#v: captive

[cannibalmariku]

He was proud, really. Impressed with himself he had managed to catch such an illusive and stubborn brat. He’d been working at him for so long but the poor thing simply wouldn’t crack to his will like most. Wouldn’t trust him completely or give in... fine, he thought... if he couldn’t manipulate him into playing with him the way he wanted... then he would force him. Once Mariku had his eyes set on another, that was it... and so, instead of luring the boy into his bed in a much gentler setting... he simply confiscated him from the outside world.

About three days, not very long. But long enough for the other to realize what had happened and that that smiling, friendly facade was just that. No more bright, overly helpful man down the street. 

The wooden boards creaked under his feet as he descended the steps into the basement. Florescent lights buzzing as they were flicked on. His newest little pet chained to the wall by his wrists, eyes piercing his body with disgust and betrayal. “Don’t look at me that way... this is your fault dear.” He murmured, moving past him to his work table as he searched around in the bins beneath. “Didn’t you miss me at all? it’s pretty lonely down here in the dark...” 

“Or maybe you just want to keep being a little brat...” He huffed, not at all like the man the other once knew. Like a completely different person. Cruel and cold. 

[magical-bakuras]

Starter for @florence-midknight and @ancientgoldboundspirit

Ryou was bored. 

It wasn’t the sort of boredom one could cure with video games or books, but rather an all-encompassing sort of boredom that came in waves and made him feel as if all days blended into one and sucked out his joy. Even his favorite toy was no longer entertaining him as it once had; though it had for so long said and done unpredictable things it had now fallen into a routine of moaning compliments and declarations of love. So, on a whim, he’d found himself a new toy. A toy different enough that hopefully it would temporarily sate his gruesome need for attention. 

Leaving his old, beautiful toy in the dark room he’d so generously provided for it, he’d gone out and found another same-faced object to lure in and adopt. As they headed down the stairs, hands tangled in each others’ clothes, fingers wrapped about handfuls of white hair, life became exciting once again. 

@florence-midknight

[thebubbledome]

ooc:// Headcanon Alert~

Topic: Mangetsu’s death! Note that this is the best I could come up with based on what I know/can put together of the 7 Swordsmen group. If you know any information that proves or disproves these theories, PLEASE let me know because I am going wild over trying to put together this boy’s death!

Suigetsu and Mangetsu aspire to become members of the 7 Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist, so they train tirelessly to become recognized by the group. Mangetsu is eventually welcomed into the 7 Swordsmen group, and he no longer keeps Suigetsu with him at all times. His main focus is to train his brother and master all of the 7 swords. Because he intends to protect Suigetsu at all costs, he does not take Suigetsu out into the field of battle with him.

Mystery surrounds Mangetsu’s death. He was so skilled at wielding the 7 swords that he was entrusted to carry all of the swords in a sealing scroll until they were needed for battle. Suigetsu believes that members of the 7 Swordsmen were talking about defecting from Kirigakure as a result of the shameful reign of the 4th Mizukage. These whispers must have gotten back to the Mizukage because Suigetsu believes that hunter-nin were sent out to retrieve the 7 swords in an attempt to redistribute them to shinobi who would be more loyal to their nation.

As the wielder of the scroll, Mangetsu was the main target. Seeing as Mangetsu kept the swords sealed until they were needed in battle, Suigetsu believes a sneak attack must have severely weakened his brother before Mangetsu was able to release the swords to their respective owners. In his weakened state, Mangetsu could have been killed by the hunter-nin forces if ganged up on. Suigetsu doesn’t know exactly what happened to his brother, but his theory led him to defect from Kirigakure in an attempt to find the 7 Swordsmen group.

Eventually, he learns that the group has been largely, if not entirely, disbanded and his goal becomes to retrieve each of the blades and rebuild the group in his brother’s image. He is swiftly swooped up by Orochimaru though, putting his plans on hold.

[flamme-d-or-blog]

"I would like to become Christian!" Floki giggled.

If his laugh had not been a sign of his obvious jest, his smirk would have. Unsure of if she should give a sharp reply or ignore him - the second seeming the more safe response, Gisla fought the urge to roll her eyes and curled her knees up to her chest to shift further away from the pagan. It infuriated her beyond words could describe that anyone would treat the Lord’s Word and way as a joke, but she reminded herself that they simply did not know any better.    — “You seem more amused by the thought than truly serious.”

[flamme-d-or-blog]

She is tired.         Gisla could not recall how long they had been walking for, the     princess forced to march alongside the pagans (who reeked of salt     and blood and Lord only knew what else). Never before had she     ever walked so much, and her fine legs - while shapely - were not     accustomed to the exertion.      Her only warning was her own breath leaving her in a gasp, and with     great frustration and no little amount of embarrassment, Gisla found     her legs to have given out ----

[flamme-d-or-blog]

Captive

  “Ambition will be your downfall.”           At the time, Gisla had rolled her big brown eyes at the father for his scolding,          for she knew men were told no such thing. Not her father, not her grandfather,          not her great grandfather who had founded Francia - and when the time came,          she had planned on being just as great as Charlemagne, no matter what sex           God had created her to be.                When the pagans arrived outside the walls of Paris and a battle unlike anything     since the time of her famed relative was planned, she prepared herself. All the      years of bending her father’s ear and twisting his thoughts to her will, all the time     she had spent stringing Count Odo along with the tantalizing temptation of marriage     to the clever daughter of the emperor.                        It all fell into place so perfectly -                                         and then, in the moment when she had though that it had                                         all been sure, when she had been declaring the sovereignty                                        of their God and His faith in His beloved, chosen soldiers -                She  f e l l .       A soldier who had been tangling with one of the pagans (’vikings’ she had heard       someone refer to them as) reached for a hold when an arrow pierced his heart       only for his hand to find the thick silks and rich wool of her gown, pulling Gisla        over the ramparts with him. Her fall, praise be to God, was broken by the water,       and she only just managed to extract herself from the cold, murky brown tainted       with red when she had been grabbed and hauled away.                      No longer was she princess Gisla of Francia and Normandy, no longer                      was she to be known as the stone maiden who had inspired their soldiers                      with her faith, reminiscient of the holy Virgin herself with her piety and                       bearing the passion of St. Peter -                                                                                She was a prisoner.        Her eyes were cold and angry, like that of a small animal caught in a trap as she        regarded her captors. It was clear that the battle had not gone in their favour -        something that still brought Gisla a small amount of pleasure and pride - and so        far they had seemed far too concerned with licking their wounds to consider         raping or harming her. However, it seemed none of them were able to speak her         own language and she did not speak theirs, and so the furious woman sat in         silence, watching and waiting and praying for the courage to handle whatever         was to happen next.