Kamen Rider W - Beautiful Nightmare (PG-13)
Title: Beautiful Nightmare
Fandom: Kamen Rider W
Warnings: "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but whips and chains excite me~! ...People being tied up, whips and leather are mentioned.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Shoutarou wakes up to what should be a sweet dream. Instead, it's a beautiful nightmare.
Notes: This isn't what I'd call my best piece, but I kinda made a promise to myself that not everything I wrote would be Shoutarou/Phillip-centric. And while it isn't, it also is? If that makes sense? I personally needed to write this as a mental transition for my writing. I have two more planned after this. By that time, I'll hopefully have enough to work with post-ep18 to be able to write more awesomeness.
Btw, this is spoiler-free (aka it keeps with the TV Nihon sub releases)
In some parts, I feel it's kinda rushed and doesn't feel quiet fluid... But dreams never are. So reading back, it wasn't an intentional thing, but I wouldn't change it completely.
I don't often use suffixes, but in this fic, they felt kinda necessary to get the tone right. What do you think of stories using things like -san, -chan or -kun? I'm of the opinion that, unless it's fundamental to the character (like Dan Taichi's desus), then it's ridiculous to put them in because it just doesn't exist in English. Opinions?
As always, comments=♥
”My head hurts.”
“And I'm cold.”
Those were two things Shoutarou almost never thought of when he woke up. His blankets were wonderfully warm, and he was never the type to toss and turn and kick his blankets off. He was also not much of a drinker, and so there was no reason for his head to feel like a herd of elephants had trampled over him. It took a while for Shoutarou to realize that the only reason his head hurt was because that was simply the thing that seemed to be functioning first. The more he awoke, his eyes still refusing to open, the more he realized he was stiff and achy all over. His shoulders were tense as if he'd been sitting or standing uncomfortably for ages. There was a crick in his neck that made him want to chop his own head off if it would stop the pain. His legs ached, yearning for some kind of rest, like he'd been running a marathon over and over again.
Shoutarou still couldn't understand why he was so cold though.
One eye slowly opened,just a crack, but that was enough to suddenly send the detective mind reeling with the disorienting feeling of waking up in a place that you very clearly did not fall asleep in the night before.
Shoutarou would have remembered falling asleep in the back room. He was sure about that.
He also would have remembered how he managed to fall asleep standing. A quick attempt to move numbed Shoutarou's mind with the realization that he couldn't.
He was tied up.
Shoutarou panicked, trying to move, get away, or something, but it was no use, he was tied up, spread out across the back of the car, held there like some girl tied to a wheel in a knife throwing circus trick. Catching his breath, Shoutarou yelled out the first thing that came to mind. “PHILLIP!!” Where was he? What was going on? Oh god, had he been kidnapped? Where was Fang? Was Phillip alright? His own well being flew out of mind as he worried about his young partner. “PHILLIP!!!!”
A small, familiar giggle replied to Shoutarou's cry instead. “Shoutarou, don't worry about Phillip, he's fine.”
Shoutarou knew that voice too well. But never sounding quite like this. Never so... mischievous, and yet strong at the same time. This could not bode well. He could hear Akiko enter before he could see her, though it wasn't a sound he was use to hearing when thinking of the young looking girl walking. This was the sound of heels clicking against the cement floor, the sound bringing back a floor of memories of angry teachers making their way to and from the office, of course always to tell him off.
The woman that stepped out of the shadows was not the girl that Shoutarou expected to see. And he was being very clear with the difference of saying girl and woman. Akiko was a girl. She wore ponytails and short shorts, she was immature and childish. But this... woman, for lack of a better word, was definitely Akiko. Except... Well... She definitely did not look childish then. Or immature. Instead of her regular sneakers, she had on leather boots that came right up over the knee, skin tight over her tiny legs, some how managing to balance on towering heels. She had her short shorts on still, but they weren't the cute denim type she wore before, but once again leather, the shorts just long enough that they couldn't be considered underwear. But only just. Instead of her regular teeshirts and jackets, she had a vest that couldn't possibly be comfortable on, it was far too tight, and didn't seem to leave much to the imagination.
Had Shoutarou been in any other position, he would have laughed, because there really was nothing there to imagine about Akiko, she still had the cleavage of a first year middle school student. But before he could laugh, he realized that the handle of a short whip replaced the place where her green slipper would be in her hand. And suddenly he was terrified.
“What the hell are you doing?” Shoutarou did not like this situation. At all. Akiko was perhaps the last person on earth to be holding something like that. She'd be to eager to use it, and probably would use it wrong, and would probably hit herself in the process. Either way, it was all too painful to think about.
Striking a pose like some kind of tramped up gravure model, Akiko twirled the whip about in her hands, grinning. “How am I suppose to know? It's your dream.”
“Dream?”
“Ooooh, Shoutarou is dreaming about me in leather~~” Akiko squealed in her annoying way. “He's secretly some submissive pervert!”
Even in his dreams, Akiko was annoying as all hell. “I AM NOT SUBMISSIVE! AND I' SURE AS HELL AM NOT CHOOSING TO DREAM ABOUT YOU!” The disgust at the thought was visible on his face.
“You didn't deny being a pervert,” Akiko continued to tease the detective. With Shoutarou tied up, she wasn't afraid of walking right up to him, poking him under the ribs. “Iyaaa, Shoutarou's a pervert~!”
“I am not!” Shoutarou blinked, a moment of realization apparent on his face. “This has nothing to do with you at all! It's because Phillip had me tied up earlier, and then went off to look up what BDSM means!” It all sounded so innocent to Shoutarou.
“...What the hell do you two get up to when I'm not there?” Shoutarou opened his mouth to speak, but stopped, not even able to give a response to that. “Whatever, so you're a big gay pervert.”
“I AM NOT!”
Akiko laughed, that stupid annoying giggle of hers. “Not what? Gay? Or a pervert? Because you're lying about both.” Before Shoutarou could even waste the deep breath he took to argue back, Akiko interrupted. “Remember Shou-chan, this is all just a dream. I'm just in your subconscious!” She waved her arms around like a ghost, ruining any glimmer of looking like an adult in her costume. “I know everything that's going through your head.” She leaned in closer, simply because he couldn't fight back, and whispered against his ear. “Everything.”
Shoutarou stopped fighting and stopped struggling at that whisper, horrified. Akiko wasn't real, none of this was. But she was right. What she was saying was everything running through his head since... Far too long.
“Don't be so ridiculous,” Shoutarou finally answered back. “Dreams aren't always what we're thinking. It's just a reaction to the things that have happened throughout the past day, and puts familiar faces on things we might have been thinking about.” Shoutarou was quite proud of his quick way out of this one. “So of course, Phillip was testing some stuff for Kamen Rider, and left me tied up when I made a joke about BDSM. Now I'm tied up, and you look like a little girl dressed in leather.”
Tch.
The loud sound of disgust seemed to echo through the room. Both Shoutarou and Akiko turned to look to see they weren't alone in Shoutarou's dream. The princess Wakana herself was standing at the other side of the room. Everything about her right then was frills and lace, but not much of either. She was balanced on a pair of black stilettos that seemed to be made for her, making her already long legs look like they could go on for days. A cute pink bow and frills lined the edge of the shoes. This matched the corset and panties she was wearing, all black with pink frills here and there, covering just enough to tease, but showing enough to make clear she was not some middle school student. Since this was Shoutarou's dream, he felt no shame in letting his jaw drop, a quite happy smile on his face. He liked where this was going! “See? Not gay, no gay guy would ever be able to dream about that! Though, if this makes me perverted... Ahh, perhaps I can deal with that.”
Shoutarou was so distracted by his own fantasies at that moment, he didn't even notice what was in Wakana's hand. The loud crack of leather snapping in the air and hitting the cold cement woke him from his dream. “Don't be so disgusting!” Shoutarou couldn't understand what Phillip saw in her. Sure, she was charming and cute and looked really good right then, but he couldn't understand how such a beautiful girl could be such a bitch! And it only seemed to be with him, she magically turned on the charm with everyone else. But when she started walking towards him, that slow, careful way of stepping seductively, even Shoutarou forgot that he was suppose to think she was anything but the hottest thing ever. “Ne, Shoutarou-kun...” Wakana's voice was so sickeningly sweet then, some how able to melt all of the dislike Shoutarou had for the self-proclaimed princess for the moment. “Why are you and Phillip-kun so secretive all the time?” She found herself looking right into Shoutarou's eyes, close enough to run her finger under the detective's chin. Shoutarou could feel his knees wobble and nearly give out under his weight at the contact. “So mysterious... What's your secret?”
In that moment, Shoutarou nearly caved. He nearly told her everything. It would have been alright, right? This was all just a dream, just a stupid dream, it wouldn't mean anything. Hell, he could yell it out and tell everyone he knew, “Hey, I'm Kamen Rider!” and then transform just to prove his point, and he'd wake up.
But even in his dreams, Shoutarou hesitated. And he didn't even need to hesitate long, because Akiko was right in there before Shoutarou could say a thing, protecting her boys. “They don't have a secret!” Akiko was a terrible liar. “They just don't want to deal with you!”
“What do you mean, they don't want to deal with me?”
Uh oh.
Shoutarou suddenly hated being tied up here even more, because he couldn't even get out of the way. Being the amazing detective he was, he could use his sleuthing skills to deduce that the claws were coming out, and a cat fight was impending. Shoutarou watched the snarls and insults go back and forth like a tennis match, hoping to all the powers above that they would restrain themselves from using their whips. He had little faith in either of their abilities with the leather in their hands.
He was so captivated by the argument, he didn't even hear the sound of heels clicking against the hard cement a third time.
“Taboo!”
It was hard to ignore that sound though. The sound of a million nightmares echoing against the walls, reverberating around in his mind as he thought of all the horrible times he'd heard that GaiaMemory be activated. There was never a good moment, a happy memory that could be associated with that memory.
The dopant flying toward them stopped the two bickering girls in their tracks. Before either one could yell a protest or scream, two glowing balls of light flew at each of them, knocking the girls to the opposite side of the room.
“AKIKO! WAKANA!” Shoutarou yelled his voice near hoarse as he watched the two girls fly away, their bodies limp and lifeless. He was too startled and terrified to even care that he could see Wakana's panties. His attention turned back to the dopant, eyes sharp and full of hate. “What do you want?!”
“Raito.” Her voice was horrible. Cold, mechanical, emotionless. Shoutarou was sure that even in her human form, she would sound just as dead to him. “I want Raito back, and I won't have some stupid Kamen Rider stay in my way.”
In the blink of an eye, the Taboo dopant had another glowing purple ball aimed at Shoutarou's bare, unprotected torso. He shut his eyes, wincing in anticipated pain. And as he could hear the ball flying toward him, Shoutarou was sure that he ended up screaming Phillip's name...
But there was no pain. No fiery demise. Shoutarou's eyes shot open, drenched in a cold sweat. He was sitting up in bed, gasping for breath as if he had been hit by something square in the chest, but it was just fear.
“Shoutarou?”
The voice was quiet an cautious, and wonderfully familiar in all the right ways at that moment. Shoutarou looked up to see Phillip sitting at the end of the bed, watching the older man with worry, a hand resting on Shoutarou's knee. “Is everything alright? You were yelling my name and sounded like you were having a nightmare.”
The next thing Phillip knew, he was enveloped in Shoutarou's arms, dragged into a tight hug. Shoutarou clung to his young partner protectively, relieved to see he was still there, still alive. It had all been a dream. “Oh thank god,” Shoutarou seemed to mutter to himself. “It was just a dream.”
Phillip's arms snaked around Shoutarou, reassuring him with his returned hug. “Of course it was just a dream. What did you dream about?”
Opening his mouth to answer, Shoutarou hesitated to tell Phillip all of the details. He didn't need to know the part with the whips and leather. “Just about that dopant from Begins Night... I hate knowing they're still out there.”
“We'll stop them,” Phillip reassured some more. “And they're not going to split us up.”
Some how, Phillip's words comforted the detective. Shoutarou sighed, relieved that it was all over and Phillip was still safe. “You better sleep here tonight,” Shoutarou said as he tugged Phillip under the blanket. “it's easier to sleep when I know you're still safe that way.”
Phillip knew better than to argue Shoutarou when he was nervous and worried. So instead, he curled up under the blankets, curling himself around Shoutarou. “Fine. G'night Shou-kun,” Phillip yawned as he let himself drift back to sleep.
Shoutarou didn't fall asleep so easily. He watched the younger boy fall asleep, brushing Phillip's hair back, a gesture he found relaxing more than anything else. “G'night Phillip.”
Fandom: Kamen Rider W
Warnings: "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but whips and chains excite me~! ...People being tied up, whips and leather are mentioned.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Shoutarou wakes up to what should be a sweet dream. Instead, it's a beautiful nightmare.
Notes: This isn't what I'd call my best piece, but I kinda made a promise to myself that not everything I wrote would be Shoutarou/Phillip-centric. And while it isn't, it also is? If that makes sense? I personally needed to write this as a mental transition for my writing. I have two more planned after this. By that time, I'll hopefully have enough to work with post-ep18 to be able to write more awesomeness.
Btw, this is spoiler-free (aka it keeps with the TV Nihon sub releases)
In some parts, I feel it's kinda rushed and doesn't feel quiet fluid... But dreams never are. So reading back, it wasn't an intentional thing, but I wouldn't change it completely.
I don't often use suffixes, but in this fic, they felt kinda necessary to get the tone right. What do you think of stories using things like -san, -chan or -kun? I'm of the opinion that, unless it's fundamental to the character (like Dan Taichi's desus), then it's ridiculous to put them in because it just doesn't exist in English. Opinions?
As always, comments=♥
”My head hurts.”
“And I'm cold.”
Those were two things Shoutarou almost never thought of when he woke up. His blankets were wonderfully warm, and he was never the type to toss and turn and kick his blankets off. He was also not much of a drinker, and so there was no reason for his head to feel like a herd of elephants had trampled over him. It took a while for Shoutarou to realize that the only reason his head hurt was because that was simply the thing that seemed to be functioning first. The more he awoke, his eyes still refusing to open, the more he realized he was stiff and achy all over. His shoulders were tense as if he'd been sitting or standing uncomfortably for ages. There was a crick in his neck that made him want to chop his own head off if it would stop the pain. His legs ached, yearning for some kind of rest, like he'd been running a marathon over and over again.
Shoutarou still couldn't understand why he was so cold though.
One eye slowly opened,just a crack, but that was enough to suddenly send the detective mind reeling with the disorienting feeling of waking up in a place that you very clearly did not fall asleep in the night before.
Shoutarou would have remembered falling asleep in the back room. He was sure about that.
He also would have remembered how he managed to fall asleep standing. A quick attempt to move numbed Shoutarou's mind with the realization that he couldn't.
He was tied up.
Shoutarou panicked, trying to move, get away, or something, but it was no use, he was tied up, spread out across the back of the car, held there like some girl tied to a wheel in a knife throwing circus trick. Catching his breath, Shoutarou yelled out the first thing that came to mind. “PHILLIP!!” Where was he? What was going on? Oh god, had he been kidnapped? Where was Fang? Was Phillip alright? His own well being flew out of mind as he worried about his young partner. “PHILLIP!!!!”
A small, familiar giggle replied to Shoutarou's cry instead. “Shoutarou, don't worry about Phillip, he's fine.”
Shoutarou knew that voice too well. But never sounding quite like this. Never so... mischievous, and yet strong at the same time. This could not bode well. He could hear Akiko enter before he could see her, though it wasn't a sound he was use to hearing when thinking of the young looking girl walking. This was the sound of heels clicking against the cement floor, the sound bringing back a floor of memories of angry teachers making their way to and from the office, of course always to tell him off.
The woman that stepped out of the shadows was not the girl that Shoutarou expected to see. And he was being very clear with the difference of saying girl and woman. Akiko was a girl. She wore ponytails and short shorts, she was immature and childish. But this... woman, for lack of a better word, was definitely Akiko. Except... Well... She definitely did not look childish then. Or immature. Instead of her regular sneakers, she had on leather boots that came right up over the knee, skin tight over her tiny legs, some how managing to balance on towering heels. She had her short shorts on still, but they weren't the cute denim type she wore before, but once again leather, the shorts just long enough that they couldn't be considered underwear. But only just. Instead of her regular teeshirts and jackets, she had a vest that couldn't possibly be comfortable on, it was far too tight, and didn't seem to leave much to the imagination.
Had Shoutarou been in any other position, he would have laughed, because there really was nothing there to imagine about Akiko, she still had the cleavage of a first year middle school student. But before he could laugh, he realized that the handle of a short whip replaced the place where her green slipper would be in her hand. And suddenly he was terrified.
“What the hell are you doing?” Shoutarou did not like this situation. At all. Akiko was perhaps the last person on earth to be holding something like that. She'd be to eager to use it, and probably would use it wrong, and would probably hit herself in the process. Either way, it was all too painful to think about.
Striking a pose like some kind of tramped up gravure model, Akiko twirled the whip about in her hands, grinning. “How am I suppose to know? It's your dream.”
“Dream?”
“Ooooh, Shoutarou is dreaming about me in leather~~” Akiko squealed in her annoying way. “He's secretly some submissive pervert!”
Even in his dreams, Akiko was annoying as all hell. “I AM NOT SUBMISSIVE! AND I' SURE AS HELL AM NOT CHOOSING TO DREAM ABOUT YOU!” The disgust at the thought was visible on his face.
“You didn't deny being a pervert,” Akiko continued to tease the detective. With Shoutarou tied up, she wasn't afraid of walking right up to him, poking him under the ribs. “Iyaaa, Shoutarou's a pervert~!”
“I am not!” Shoutarou blinked, a moment of realization apparent on his face. “This has nothing to do with you at all! It's because Phillip had me tied up earlier, and then went off to look up what BDSM means!” It all sounded so innocent to Shoutarou.
“...What the hell do you two get up to when I'm not there?” Shoutarou opened his mouth to speak, but stopped, not even able to give a response to that. “Whatever, so you're a big gay pervert.”
“I AM NOT!”
Akiko laughed, that stupid annoying giggle of hers. “Not what? Gay? Or a pervert? Because you're lying about both.” Before Shoutarou could even waste the deep breath he took to argue back, Akiko interrupted. “Remember Shou-chan, this is all just a dream. I'm just in your subconscious!” She waved her arms around like a ghost, ruining any glimmer of looking like an adult in her costume. “I know everything that's going through your head.” She leaned in closer, simply because he couldn't fight back, and whispered against his ear. “Everything.”
Shoutarou stopped fighting and stopped struggling at that whisper, horrified. Akiko wasn't real, none of this was. But she was right. What she was saying was everything running through his head since... Far too long.
“Don't be so ridiculous,” Shoutarou finally answered back. “Dreams aren't always what we're thinking. It's just a reaction to the things that have happened throughout the past day, and puts familiar faces on things we might have been thinking about.” Shoutarou was quite proud of his quick way out of this one. “So of course, Phillip was testing some stuff for Kamen Rider, and left me tied up when I made a joke about BDSM. Now I'm tied up, and you look like a little girl dressed in leather.”
Tch.
The loud sound of disgust seemed to echo through the room. Both Shoutarou and Akiko turned to look to see they weren't alone in Shoutarou's dream. The princess Wakana herself was standing at the other side of the room. Everything about her right then was frills and lace, but not much of either. She was balanced on a pair of black stilettos that seemed to be made for her, making her already long legs look like they could go on for days. A cute pink bow and frills lined the edge of the shoes. This matched the corset and panties she was wearing, all black with pink frills here and there, covering just enough to tease, but showing enough to make clear she was not some middle school student. Since this was Shoutarou's dream, he felt no shame in letting his jaw drop, a quite happy smile on his face. He liked where this was going! “See? Not gay, no gay guy would ever be able to dream about that! Though, if this makes me perverted... Ahh, perhaps I can deal with that.”
Shoutarou was so distracted by his own fantasies at that moment, he didn't even notice what was in Wakana's hand. The loud crack of leather snapping in the air and hitting the cold cement woke him from his dream. “Don't be so disgusting!” Shoutarou couldn't understand what Phillip saw in her. Sure, she was charming and cute and looked really good right then, but he couldn't understand how such a beautiful girl could be such a bitch! And it only seemed to be with him, she magically turned on the charm with everyone else. But when she started walking towards him, that slow, careful way of stepping seductively, even Shoutarou forgot that he was suppose to think she was anything but the hottest thing ever. “Ne, Shoutarou-kun...” Wakana's voice was so sickeningly sweet then, some how able to melt all of the dislike Shoutarou had for the self-proclaimed princess for the moment. “Why are you and Phillip-kun so secretive all the time?” She found herself looking right into Shoutarou's eyes, close enough to run her finger under the detective's chin. Shoutarou could feel his knees wobble and nearly give out under his weight at the contact. “So mysterious... What's your secret?”
In that moment, Shoutarou nearly caved. He nearly told her everything. It would have been alright, right? This was all just a dream, just a stupid dream, it wouldn't mean anything. Hell, he could yell it out and tell everyone he knew, “Hey, I'm Kamen Rider!” and then transform just to prove his point, and he'd wake up.
But even in his dreams, Shoutarou hesitated. And he didn't even need to hesitate long, because Akiko was right in there before Shoutarou could say a thing, protecting her boys. “They don't have a secret!” Akiko was a terrible liar. “They just don't want to deal with you!”
“What do you mean, they don't want to deal with me?”
Uh oh.
Shoutarou suddenly hated being tied up here even more, because he couldn't even get out of the way. Being the amazing detective he was, he could use his sleuthing skills to deduce that the claws were coming out, and a cat fight was impending. Shoutarou watched the snarls and insults go back and forth like a tennis match, hoping to all the powers above that they would restrain themselves from using their whips. He had little faith in either of their abilities with the leather in their hands.
He was so captivated by the argument, he didn't even hear the sound of heels clicking against the hard cement a third time.
“Taboo!”
It was hard to ignore that sound though. The sound of a million nightmares echoing against the walls, reverberating around in his mind as he thought of all the horrible times he'd heard that GaiaMemory be activated. There was never a good moment, a happy memory that could be associated with that memory.
The dopant flying toward them stopped the two bickering girls in their tracks. Before either one could yell a protest or scream, two glowing balls of light flew at each of them, knocking the girls to the opposite side of the room.
“AKIKO! WAKANA!” Shoutarou yelled his voice near hoarse as he watched the two girls fly away, their bodies limp and lifeless. He was too startled and terrified to even care that he could see Wakana's panties. His attention turned back to the dopant, eyes sharp and full of hate. “What do you want?!”
“Raito.” Her voice was horrible. Cold, mechanical, emotionless. Shoutarou was sure that even in her human form, she would sound just as dead to him. “I want Raito back, and I won't have some stupid Kamen Rider stay in my way.”
In the blink of an eye, the Taboo dopant had another glowing purple ball aimed at Shoutarou's bare, unprotected torso. He shut his eyes, wincing in anticipated pain. And as he could hear the ball flying toward him, Shoutarou was sure that he ended up screaming Phillip's name...
But there was no pain. No fiery demise. Shoutarou's eyes shot open, drenched in a cold sweat. He was sitting up in bed, gasping for breath as if he had been hit by something square in the chest, but it was just fear.
“Shoutarou?”
The voice was quiet an cautious, and wonderfully familiar in all the right ways at that moment. Shoutarou looked up to see Phillip sitting at the end of the bed, watching the older man with worry, a hand resting on Shoutarou's knee. “Is everything alright? You were yelling my name and sounded like you were having a nightmare.”
The next thing Phillip knew, he was enveloped in Shoutarou's arms, dragged into a tight hug. Shoutarou clung to his young partner protectively, relieved to see he was still there, still alive. It had all been a dream. “Oh thank god,” Shoutarou seemed to mutter to himself. “It was just a dream.”
Phillip's arms snaked around Shoutarou, reassuring him with his returned hug. “Of course it was just a dream. What did you dream about?”
Opening his mouth to answer, Shoutarou hesitated to tell Phillip all of the details. He didn't need to know the part with the whips and leather. “Just about that dopant from Begins Night... I hate knowing they're still out there.”
“We'll stop them,” Phillip reassured some more. “And they're not going to split us up.”
Some how, Phillip's words comforted the detective. Shoutarou sighed, relieved that it was all over and Phillip was still safe. “You better sleep here tonight,” Shoutarou said as he tugged Phillip under the blanket. “it's easier to sleep when I know you're still safe that way.”
Phillip knew better than to argue Shoutarou when he was nervous and worried. So instead, he curled up under the blankets, curling himself around Shoutarou. “Fine. G'night Shou-kun,” Phillip yawned as he let himself drift back to sleep.
Shoutarou didn't fall asleep so easily. He watched the younger boy fall asleep, brushing Phillip's hair back, a gesture he found relaxing more than anything else. “G'night Phillip.”