|
Post by Dr. Frank-N-Furter on Apr 11, 2011 12:56:15 GMT -5
*____* I am so addicted to this fanfic now, it's not even funny. Awesome work!!!
|
|
|
Post by The Warden on Apr 11, 2011 12:58:24 GMT -5
Hehe, thanks! xD "He's Ready" was just a one-shot based on another rp.
|
|
|
Post by The Puck on Apr 11, 2011 13:09:12 GMT -5
Ah, I see. Well, it was still really good. ;D
|
|
|
Post by The Warden on Apr 11, 2011 13:10:28 GMT -5
Glad you think so. :3
|
|
|
Post by The Warden on Apr 25, 2011 11:50:33 GMT -5
Lol here is a short fic I'm writing for peeps on 4chan. They asked for some Future Warden/Warden slash and things will get dirty later so I won't be posting it here...but this is a teaser, I guess.
-----
Warden had been stuck in the future for weeks, probably months now. His future self kept refusing to help him get back to his own time. It probably didn't help that he kept saying he would run the place better or that he swore to change some things when he got back.
But really, was it so hard to fix a measly time travel bracelet…thing? If the Good Doctor made it then it couldn't be too hard to fix. Yet his future self refused to cooperate, claiming he fired the doctor some time ago…and he refused to let Warden use his scientists. Why on earth did he not trust himself of all people?
Warden was beyond frustrated and was very close to hating himself. Trying one last time, he approached his future self in his office, slamming his fists loudly on the desk to take the dictator's mind off of his work. "When are we getting this fixed? I can't stay here forever! I have a jail to run!" He was pouting, probably not helping his case at all, but he frankly didn't care.
His future self stopped looking at the report, lowering it slowly on his desk after being interrupted. He gave Warden a very unimpressed glance through his darker lenses. "I thought I told you not to disturb me. Ever," he said, his tone unpleasant and darker than it used to be.
Warden swallowed, nervous, but he kept his ground. Sort of. "Well, this is important and you never listen!"
"Warden," his future self began, folding his hands together and leaning forward. "Tell me a little more about that bracelet you have." Warden stared, confused. What was his future self trying to start?
"Uh, other than the fact it should let me travel back to my time period?"
His future self looked frustrated for a moment before he forced a smile. "Actually, I want to know why it is that when we're in contact, we don't rupture time and space…and the fact I don't remember this encounter at all."
Warden scratched his head. The doctor had explained it to him in detail before he experimented with it- but he couldn't remember it all. "I think it pretty much blocks all possibilities of time paradoxes?"
"So anything that happens to you won't affect anything here," his future self mused, rubbing his chin.
"I…guess…but what does that have to do with anything?" Warden frowned, crossing his arms. Why couldn't his future self just help him fix this?
The future warden sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Oh, Warden, you really weren't so bright back then, were you?" Warden's lip twitched. God, his future self was an ass. He watched the other stand up from his chair and walk around it, approaching him.
"I want to try something out," his older self said calmly, a little too close to Warden's comfort zone now.
"Like what?" Warden asked, hoping his nervousness wasn't obvious in his voice. His future self formed a sly smile, taking a hold of the other's wrist, thumb brushing across the strange device.
"You'll see."
This was weird. This was really weird. What was his future self up to? The way he was looking at him didn't exactly reassure him in any way. "I should probably go-" Warden started, but his older self had, at this point, managed to corner him against the wall. The future warden still had a hold on the other's wrist, studying it carefully before looking back at Warden.
"Why would you want to leave when I'm actually interested in you now?"
Warden frowned, suspicious. "You mean the device." He didn't get an answer. "Right?" He had no idea where this was going anymore.
"Well, when you say 'device', it's such a vague term," his future self replied, stroking his chin and letting a wily smile spread across his face. "It could be the device you're thinking of...or perhaps..." As he left a hidden trail appending his speech, he smiled again with his own smug cleverness.
Warden was staring at him, confused. He was missing something. Perhaps he wanted to ignore the suggestiveness, but it eventually clicked. Warden laughed uneasily at first, figuring his future self was just messing with him. "Uh...yeah...what?"
With a horrendous leer of a smile, his future self leaned in. "Perhaps -you- are the little device I had in mind."
Warden's eyes widened and he swore he felt a bead of sweat run down his forehead. "Really now..?" he swallowed, forcing a smile. "Never been referred to as a device before."
"Oh, but that's all we are in the end, isn't it? Just little...devices, good for doing one thing or another. There are two kinds of people in this world..." The devious expression only became all the more pronounced all of a sudden. "The inflictor...and the inflicted."
"Exactly where are you going with this because I'm not sure I'm following..." Warden was more than intimidated at this point, his future self's face far too close for comfort.
A frown creased his future self's features. "How fortunate I am that I lost my density eons ago. You really do shame me with your ignorance - it's a miracle that I ever evolved."
"Hey! Are you saying I'm stupid?" Warden snapped, his nervousness forgotten at that moment. "Maybe if you started speaking English I'd get what you are saying." He would be crossing his arms if his older self wasn't still holding onto his wrist.
"Maybe if you understood English, you insolent son of an ancestor, you'd gather my implications!" Wow, he was just full of it today. "Oh, well," he at last sighed, "no matter. What you don't understand..." One rough tug later, and the Warden was barely two inches from his face, "I don't have to explain."
Oh God. Ohgodohgod. He was going to kill him, wasn't he? Stupid, stupid - he shouldn't have told him about the device's other abilities. SHIT. "Can't we talk about this?" he squeaked.
"What is there to say?" His voice had dropped to a low baritone, nearly a whisper. "Only do."
Warden wished at this moment that he could vanish into the walls, but it didn't look like that was going to happen. He shouldn't have pissed his future self off. Then again, it really wasn't that hard to get him angry. "....do what...?" He was sweating again. Now he knew how Jared felt half of the time.
"Why tell someone who obviously can't be told?" More of his dark laughter ensued. "Oh, believe me, you're going to relish every bit of this...not nearly as much as me, of course."
So he wasn't going to kill him? Warden felt a tad less frightened now, but the laugh still made him uncomfortable. He wasn't going to get any coherent answers. He'd have to find out for himself by waiting. He started chewing his bottom lip, eyes searching his future self's face for anything that didn't scream "I'm a psychopath".
Of course, the search was fruitless, but not unwarrented. There was no sympathy, no humanity left behind those eyes, solid like unfeeling glass. And as soon as he'd stood long enough to examine his past self for a moment longer, he uprighted himself and gave Warden a tug. "Well, come on. We have all this to do and so much time to repeat it."
Warden followed, nearly tripping over himself at the harsh tug. "Where are we going?" He probably should have just shut up, but he was never one to keep quiet and let things be. Whatever his future self was planning, he had a right to know. At least, he thought so.
"To the heart of this great, grand operation!" The Future Warden cackled a heartless laugh. "To my sleeping quarterts!"
Warden swore he had heard wrong. Sleeping quarters? Why would he - oh. Oh. OH. Wait, what? Warden's eyes widened and he thought about skidding to a stop, but he realized that this was something he had been thinking about for a while now. What would it feel like?
Warden could feel his face heat up at the thought and he tried to clear his head. For once he was quiet, no words coming to mind to express his thoughts.
Several steps of complete silence passed as the long walk continued. "Well, well, it's the first I've not heard a word out of you. I assure you, you'll be making up for it in a minute."
Warden huffed, glaring at his future self. "We'll just have to see about that," he muttered. "Are you going to let go of me anytime soon? I'm probably going to have a mark where your hand used to be at this point."
"I personally find bruises..." Hot air wafted between them as he bent in, mouth close to his alternative self's ear. "Very...alluring. Much more than that, and, well...I hardly know what to do with myself, I'm so ill-contained!" Between the two of them, his glee was nearly overpowering as he pushed open the door as they arrived at long last, the barebones quarters especially well-prepared for an occasion such as theirs. "I'm certain I will reach that peak. In time, maybe you'll learn to...appreciate more of my methods."
Warden swallowed again, using his free hand to wipe some of the nervousness away from his brow. His face was definitely hot and he wasn't sure how he should feel about all of what was happening. His future self was obviously excited about it and it was unusual. Warden usually only saw his other self like this when there was torture going on. Again, he was at a loss for words, too worried about setting off his future self.
But really, when had the element of torture disappeared from the equation. The look upon his face was frighteningly sadistic as it was, but with the added factor of pure possibility, it was enough to engulf one's spine in chills.
He pushed a hand behind him and slammed the door shut, listening to a satisfying grind of metal nerves as their only portal of escape clamped itself shut, protecting him from interruption and his little "friend" from rescue. As a twisted sort of favor, he finally released the Warden from his grip - but not without forcefully pushing him against what could best be described as a militant's mattress. "Strip. You have two minutes while I prepare." He wandered off toward a private washroom at a smart pace.
Warden looked around the room, trying to brush off the feeling of dread he kept getting. He rubbed his wrist, glaring down at the bracelet. "This is all your fault," he scowled before he decided to start removing his jacket.
Really, though, Warden had little reason to have a problem with this. His future self wasn't planning on killing him, after all and the sex was more than likely going to be amazing.
The last thing he removed were his gloves as he awkwardly sat on the bed, waiting for his future self.
Little time was spared between the Warden sitting and his future version's return, the door to the washroom suddenly sliding open to reveal him, also bared before the rest of the world that was his bedroom. He shone like a star, and not because he was clean, but because of the pride of dominance that surrounded him in the air. "Such an obedient little...device..."
Warden couldn't help but stare. Sure, he'd seen himself naked plenty of times before, but this was different. His future self was just, well, better. He crossed his arms at the 'device' comment and tried to fight the heated coloring in his cheeks. "Whatever." He looked away.
|
|
|
Post by The Puck on Apr 25, 2011 11:53:08 GMT -5
Alright...I'll admit it. This ship is a secret one of mine. XDD Awesome writing! I like it so far!
|
|
|
Post by The Warden on Apr 25, 2011 15:22:41 GMT -5
XDD haha, it's one of mine too. I'll be updating it as I add more. I just put some more in it. xD
|
|
|
Post by The Warden on Apr 26, 2011 13:55:54 GMT -5
Lol major update. long fic is long.
And still not done.
|
|
Elman
New Member
"I'll show you crazy~"
Posts: 19
|
Post by Elman on May 14, 2011 20:06:10 GMT -5
A short introduction to the story dealing with Puppet!Elman first entering Foam Ghetto - a place where unwanted living puppets get sent to when the rest of society doesn't have to deal with them. :/ A Hopeless Introduction All he could feel was a sense of hopelessness. He supposed that was what everyone felt in a place like this. Filthy. Dark. Smelly. He couldn’t even describe whatever he just stepped in. He was confused, lost, and understandably frightened. It was like only hours ago he had been an icon for children and family alike...only to suddenly become a homeless degenerate. Oh, wait; it really had only been a few hours ago that it happened. Elman was fucked. And not in the pleasant way, not that he was familiar with that. Neither did he know anything about living on the streets. He coughed and spluttered while he walked through the grungy sidewalk, puppets littering the streets, cigarette smoke and many other unpleasant scents consuming the air. How did they live like this? He feared he was about to be sick, until he spotted a billboard not too far off with his face on it. Maybe there was some hope left after all…that his people would miss him – but that hope was short lived when he spotted tiny figures on top of it, pasting over the image of his once beloved show. The clouds were looming above, his colorful world completely overrun with darkness and gloom. The sun never shined in a place like this, did it? He needed to fix this, he needed to find a way back… Even if it would kill him. There had to be some magic left in this place and he’d do his damndest to bring it back. “Oomph-“ Elman tipped over, falling in a nearby puddle after some grungy green fellow shoved him down. “Watch wer ya goin’ fuckin’ fairy,” the puppet snarled, spitting tobacco out of his rotting mouth. Elman cringed, trying to fix the bent wire that held up his hat, to stunned to stand back up. “Sorry,” he murmured, watching the larger (by larger he meant wider – too much McDonalds maybe?) make his way by before he pushed himself back on his feet. Was everyone so unpleasant around here? He heard stories before….more like nightmarish ones his co-workers would tell him. It was a tactic they used to scare him away from asking too many work-related questions. He was lucky enough to get “paid”, they said. Other puppets couldn’t even get any real jobs. He had been lucky. Had, being the important word. Elman frowned, chewing his lip while he thought long and hard about this. “I’m gonna need to find a place to stay…s’got to be a place around here somewhere,” he said to himself while he continued walking, coughing rarely now. Was he already getting used to the toxic air? As he walked, he limped. Whatever surgery they did on him before they tossed him out really hurt. Hopefully the soreness would go away in time. They should have at least given him the common decency and handed him pain pills. He pulled out a crumbled up piece of paper and pen from his coat and began scribbling away at a new to-do list. He blinked when he noticed the ink was smearing on the paper...and it was getting soaked. Rain. Figures. He crumpled it back up and stuffed it back inside before he ran to shelter. If there was anything more worse for a lone puppet in a strange, unfriendly environment, was rain. At least some parts of him were sort-of plastic. He wasn't really quite sure. Elman curled up in a corner under the roof of a ramshackled building, hiding half of his face in his arms, watching as other puppets made their escape. He couldn't live like them, it was improbable. Maybe if he just fell asleep here, he'd wake up back in his room and this could all be some tasteless nightmare. One could dream. And he did.
|
|
|
Post by The Puck on May 15, 2011 21:05:44 GMT -5
Aww, poor Elman. But such great writing! XD You've really got some talent there...though I doubt that sounds like much coming from a 15 year old.
|
|
|
Post by The Warden on May 16, 2011 15:02:32 GMT -5
xD hey, for a 15 year old you write a lot better than I did at that age haha.
|
|