#bound tw

[Korrigan Masterlist]

[CW: Blood, bound in stress position, cultist mention, biting, possible broken bones, caged]

Time seemed to slow, faced with an impossible decision, and boxed in on all sides by consequences he could not foresee, but knew would fall solely on his shoulders. Seconds stretched into hours as the paintbrush, held by a rather focused looking young lady, dipped towards his face. Black ink wet the offending bristles.

He was kneeling, head forced back and hands tied behind him, as he had been for what had to have been days now. His muscles screamed, and his throat was raw from begging into an unyielding darkness. Tear tracks were cracked and dry riverbeds now, their source run dry after hours upon hours of sobbing.

And a wrist was presenting itself ever so closely to him. He felt the cool touch of the brush against heated skin, the subtle warmth of a nearby living body. Faced with the choice to remain passive, or express his extreme displeasure with his situation...well, to say dehydration and lack of sleep had rendered him subject to his own temper would have been an understatement.

He yielded to the impulse without a second thought, and soft skin yielded easily beneath teeth springloaded with rage. He relished the copper taste of blood in his mouth. The crunch beneath his teeth. The piercing scream.

It was over in a heartbeat. No sooner than he had bitten down had the hand been ripped away from him, and the room around him exploded into a frenzy of movement. He hadn’t known there was anyone else in the room but the two of them, but it was impossible for him to see with his head tied the way it was. And he supposed it made sense, for her not to be alone.

It was the last thing he had the clarity of mind to suppose for the next several minutes, as he was suddenly inundated by a barrage of heavy handed blows. Only when his nose was surely broken, and his left eye felt painfully swollen, did the flurry of fists stop, and he saw the man standing above him. His fists were tinted red, his left stained with the little ink that had made it onto his face, and he wore a sleek suit with a green tie.

He was able to focus in on crimson, almost glowing eyes and a disdainful expression before he was slapped once more, hard, and his vision spun once more.

“If this animal has decided to be a savage beast, it can go in the kennel where feral things belong.” The man snarled, straightening his tie and giving him one last critical look over before he turned and strode from the chamber.

As soon as he heard the door close once more, he was set upon by more hands. They roughly untied the ropes binding him in place, but not those binding his arms, and forced him up. He stumbled, limbs screaming in pain at the sudden change, before being caught around the arms and drug carelessly across the stone floor.

The person violently escorting him stopped momentarily, to throw open the creaking bars of an old metal cage, and then shoved him through the small opening. The rust raked across his skin as he was forced inside. Once the hands had pulled away, the door swung shut quickly, latching with a loud snap.

Bound and cramped, he struggled to get himself on his stomach, chin resting on the floor so his eyes were tilted upwards, and he could see. This person had a mask on, unlike the girl, or the man in the suit. But exactly like his kidnappers.

Porcelain white glinted, uncaring, in the candlelight from the mounted light fixtures on the walls, and the smile seemed to laugh at him. Blood red, and dripping.

He licked his lips.

His action was greeted with a shoe slamming into the cage door, rattling the box and painfully slamming his jaw against the floor. The person behind the mask laughed, just once, and then left him alone in his kennel.

@exsspes liked your post “Starter Call”

{ ♛ } For a second she had almost worried and excited that this may be her final Despair but instead everyone threw him under the bus. He must have been in such Despair to have everyone suddenly turn their back on him. For them to throw the Luckster at her feet like a present despite knowing that was merely signing his death warrant. The way his eyes had to widen in horror and pain as none of his ‘friends’ could even dare to look at him.

     It was the excitement she LIVED for and of course she gave them exactly what they wanted. Practically having them thrown out of the building but instead of killing Makoto like she intended to -because she just loves executions- a different more sinister idea came to mind. Considering the last time she tried something happened to save him last minute. But he was finally in her full grasp no amount of good luck can save him from her grip.

     So a horrible and extraordinary idea of making him her own little Despair Project entered her thoughts. Blinded by blindfolds and tied down to a chair like a prisoner as the Queen of Despair was practically squealing. 

     “This is your lucky day, Makoto.” 

     She chirps in her sickening cutesy voice as she spun his chair with startling Zeal. As it has been so long since if she does things, personally she won't accept anything but perfection. With the Remnants of Despair and her deceased Sister as well as all her execution machines she never really needed to directly do anything. After all, when she truly puts her hands on things, well, to say the least, it must be more than perfect.

     “Originally I was going to do one Final Execution just for you, but I decided I can use you and I rarely do this. This is my mercy, after all, I'm not a Monster~" 

     What a horrible lie. Junko’s voice was a bit more calculating, the show of her personality swinging a bit like it did in the trial. A display of her eccentric and dangerous character was dripping out from her voice. Before suddenly her eyes narrow, leaning down, so her lips were next to his ear as a hand grips his hair firmly.