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veiledallegory2011-05-19 01:13 am
eternity_dreams) wrote in veiledallegory2011-05-19 01:13 am
Entry tags:
Damned/Xenosaga: re:FML -of why wishes are never good.
Title: re:FML -of why wishes are never good.
Fandom: Damned/Xenosaga.
Warnings: R. Sex, S&M, etc. General WRONGNESS. N for NO. =D
Word Count: 1922.
Characters: Martin Landel. Dmitri Kane. Nigredo. Kyubey.
Notes: Sorta this's sequel? And reasoning for this torture: I was bored. I wanted to practice writing sex. And Nigredo should be a magical girl. That is all.
Summary: A new patient at Landel's Institute? How exciting!
“Any wish, you say?” the man mused curiously as he looked over the file in front of him. He flipped a page, squinting at the smaller annotation at the bottom.
“So it seems,” the woman in front of him replied in a monotone, hands folded delicately in front of her.
Landel hummed part of a song he had heard earlier--none of the words could be remembered but an incessant “na-na-na-na-na” from the beginning. Still, it was a bit catchy, something the kids these days were probably into. He chucked, leaning back into the leather desk chair. “Though from the dossier, I don’t see any results over the age of seventeen. Restricted to children again.” He tossed the file on his desk, sighing. “I don’t see the reason for that repeating theme.”
The woman in front of him said nothing, staring blandly. He smiled widely. “Still. Interesting, I say.”
“As you say, sir.”
---
The albino boy was sitting on the top of the wall, red eyes reflecting moonlight. Nigredo looked up at him suspiciously. The boy just swung his legs languidly, and Nigredo was reminded of his brother’s mannerisms. And instantly trusted this boy less. “What’s the catch?”
“I told you,” the other said in something close to a whine. The tone had a constant smile in it, and the URTV thought that no one was that cheerful all the time. And it was… less happy, and more condescending, even if the other had never been anything but friendly. Overly interested to a creepy degree, but friendly. “You give up your life to fight witches.”
Nigredo sighed. “And I told you. There’s no monsters like that here.”
“Well,” the other replied, smiling at him for a beat. “The process would be the same. You can still help me out here, just by making a contract with me. You become a Puella Magi, and I’ll be able to continue as I am. With no contracts, I’m not fulfilling any purpose here.” His lips twisted like an actor’s, or someone unused to expressing emotions. “Do you understand that, Nigredo?”
Any expression died on the Variant’s face. “…I’ll think about it.” He looked at the boy, then turned to leave, arms tight at his side.
The boy raised an arm to wave. “You know where to find me when you decide.”
---
Saturday came and went with nothing to speak of. Sunday was a bit more of a bustle, nurses cheerily directing visitors to and from rooms. To add to that, there was a board meeting in the morning, and Martin had spent the high hours of the morning cleaning the entirety of his office just to find out that it was rescheduled for the director’s (fat bastard) convenience. As if he didn’t have things to work around either. He wasn’t here all the time, after all, and now he had nothing to do for half the day, no paperwork, and--
Lydia’s voice called out the shift change over the intercom, and a smile slid over Landel’s face. Fingers reached for the stamped pile of approved visitors, and flipped to “K.” Then the man grinned further. When in doubt, after all. Compare notes.
---
If paperwork reminded him of another, comparing details would be attributed to Kane. It was too easy to coax the man into his office again, despite the disgust the bloomed on the blond’s face as soon as Martin swung into view, smiling cheerily and welcoming Dmitri here once again. Of course, the man hadn’t seen any problem in engaging in a fierce debate on the newest gene therapy growths, or had any hesitance in slamming Martin (once again) against the man’s hardwood desk. He would need a new one if this kept up.
“My, my,” the head doctor gave, pleased. “And here I thought you hated me.”
The position gave more to that deduction, one of Kane’s hands wrapped tight around Landel’s neck, weighing downward. Dmitri’s lips curled in a smirk, more aptly seen on a younger member of the family. “Hmph.”
Despite the position, Martin’s eyes glanced upward to the contents of his desk. Five hours of meticulous cleaning and now this. Papers simply strewn haphazardly. “…This was clean, you know,” he said dryly, staring at the other man.
“So it was,” came the low tones. Fingers tightening around Landel’s neck, and from his side, Dmitri’s other hand came to cup the other through his pants. “The lack of blood to your brain, I presume?”
Hm. Not quite. “Go with that, if you like.” A grip tightened, and Martin winced, throbbing into the heat of the man’s hand. Kane let go, then pulled Landel upright by his neck, not waiting for the other to get his feet before slamming his face against the by-now, fiercely untidy desk.
---
It wasn’t that Nigredo did not have a wish. Despite evidence to the contrary, he had many wishes--many, many wishes that had no chance of coming true with things as they stood. With existences placed as they were. There was a simple wish, besides those, but he didn’t think Kyubey would agree to it since Nigredo would lose the value he gained making the wish.
…Unless he died and was still alive. Albedo said they were zombies? He didn’t see how being a zombie would be useful at all.
If he…thought about it. There was something else. Something that had been lurking behind his eyes for the past two weeks since a name was uttered over a loudspeaker to a groan. (And what had that been about, anyway?) Nigredo didn’t doubt this place knew the name of their maker, but why had the head doctor been saying it so easily out of nowhere? Certainly there were others with the name. It wasn’t as if he had said “Dmitri Yuriev,” after all. Just Dmitri. Or would it be Dmitri Kane? Would he have a different first name? David, Donald, Dexter…. No. None of those really fit their father at all.
…And why was he “Nigel?” How did that fit him--well, any more than Nigredo did, if he was honest, and--
Digressing. The fact of the matter was…
Nigredo had killed him. Entirely. And that would have been enough, if not for Albedo’s questioning on if he was sure. And he was sure. Completely. Because he had to be sure. He was successful. He had to have been.
He had felt it, hadn’t he? The bullet piercing his head like it had his father.
Something like unease drifted through him, and he glanced up, finding Kyubey watching him, expression like a corpse’s. As if nothing passed behind his eyes. After a moment, the smaller boy seemed to check himself and smiled, waving enthusiastically before bounding off to catch someone’s arm, tipping a head against them.
Like a cat, Nigredo thought, and his lips thinned at the other and their offer, and yet he still considered.
---
If he had to truly answer, the feeling of another pressing against him, pressing inside him, was a kind of empowerment in itself. Yes, true, he was the one pinned down with his belt strapped tight enough to stop circulation in his wrists and hands. But. He was also the one causing that reaction; causing the teeth at his neck to tear the skin, the nails at his side to dig into his skin, hips to arch in just that way to hit a spot inside of him that made detailing the human body’s reactions all the more delightful. He gasped on an intake, forcing out a response. “A-and still we keep meeting like this, after a--”
The rest of what he would have said was to remain a mystery as Kane reached a hand to grab Landel’s bound hands, pulling them toward the man’s shoulder blades where the joints threatened to dislocate under the strain. He nearly came then, as he screamed in response, and decided he was ever-so-glad that Doyle had advised on soundproof walls in all of the executive rooms. Of the other man, Dmitri only chuckled darkly, pressing the bound limbs a little higher. Landel’s body tensed, and Kane shuddered in response to the tightening around him.
…Power, you see. It was quite obvious when you looked at it.
---
“Have you thought of a wish?” the small boy demanded cheerfully. His head tipped to the side and back, and Nigredo wondered if the other heard music like his brother or was simply compensating for a missing limb with all his motion. Lightly, as if he weighed nothing, Kyubey quickly jumped to balance on a shrub before leaping to again perch on the courtyard wall he was always on when Nigredo found him. The other crouched, staring with bland pleasantness, and again his eyes shone.
The Variant wondered what it said of him, that the inhuman aspects were reassuring.
“Have you?” Kyubey prodded, and Nigredo’s attention fled backwards. Had he? Of course he had. An unknowing would do that to you, a constant prying and wondering--all “what ifs” and “maybes.” Was it worth an extended existence? Likely not, though the other boy had told him--even with the restrictions place, Nigredo might receive added abilities, and then, it might be possible to make it that his brother would not have to receive any injuries again.
“Maybe,” he said flatly, staring blatantly as the other did. Kyubey only tilted his head. “Your only purpose is to make contracts?”
Kyubey nodded. “Yep! And grant wishes to make Puella Magi. The energy that they give me is what I need for my purpose. That’s all.” Said so pleasantly as if no one had ever doubted. Nigredo eyed him warily. Kyubey leaned forward, fluffy hair waving in the light breeze. “So will you make a contract?”
---
It started as it always had. Terse derision turning into snapped arguments, then to violence, and by the time it got to that stage, Landel called it a success. Touching was the goal, after all. If the man punched him, he was likely to run his tongue along his chest all the same. The crossover was severe and complete, and Martin would not have it any other way. He had ended on his back, wrists still bound and now held above his head, Dmitri’s teeth nipping at his ribs. Landel exhaled on a groan, and Kane’s hand edged from the other’s hip to brush against Martin’s length, the feel of calluses around soft skin provoking a squirm and shifting. The movement made Kane tighten his grip and drive in harder, forcing a moan from the other. Tongue traced upward to bite at a collarbone, Kane’s hand moving in succession with his hips, intent on ending the other and leaving him more worthless than he already was.
It is at this moment, that Nigredo appears in the room, with a full view of his father’s backside pinioning away into their enemy as Landel came with a cry.
---
Let’s backtrack.
---
“So will you make a contract?”
“…Only if you can guarantee the outcome of my request.”
The smaller boy’s lips slipped apart in an overly wide grin, teeth too white to be real shining in the dark. “I can. I can grant any wish you have--though, remember; here, I can only affect your fate. No one else’s.”
Here again, there was a stumble of indecision. A plethora of choices were raised before him, positive and negative alike, and none could be affected but Nigredo, and yet still, that allowed options to him. Even if he did not default to his own demise, if he kept his promise to his sibling, there were other things he wished to know.
The last moments of the one he had called father, for one.
Fandom: Damned/Xenosaga.
Warnings: R. Sex, S&M, etc. General WRONGNESS. N for NO. =D
Word Count: 1922.
Characters: Martin Landel. Dmitri Kane. Nigredo. Kyubey.
Notes: Sorta this's sequel? And reasoning for this torture: I was bored. I wanted to practice writing sex. And Nigredo should be a magical girl. That is all.
Summary: A new patient at Landel's Institute? How exciting!
“Any wish, you say?” the man mused curiously as he looked over the file in front of him. He flipped a page, squinting at the smaller annotation at the bottom.
“So it seems,” the woman in front of him replied in a monotone, hands folded delicately in front of her.
Landel hummed part of a song he had heard earlier--none of the words could be remembered but an incessant “na-na-na-na-na” from the beginning. Still, it was a bit catchy, something the kids these days were probably into. He chucked, leaning back into the leather desk chair. “Though from the dossier, I don’t see any results over the age of seventeen. Restricted to children again.” He tossed the file on his desk, sighing. “I don’t see the reason for that repeating theme.”
The woman in front of him said nothing, staring blandly. He smiled widely. “Still. Interesting, I say.”
“As you say, sir.”
---
The albino boy was sitting on the top of the wall, red eyes reflecting moonlight. Nigredo looked up at him suspiciously. The boy just swung his legs languidly, and Nigredo was reminded of his brother’s mannerisms. And instantly trusted this boy less. “What’s the catch?”
“I told you,” the other said in something close to a whine. The tone had a constant smile in it, and the URTV thought that no one was that cheerful all the time. And it was… less happy, and more condescending, even if the other had never been anything but friendly. Overly interested to a creepy degree, but friendly. “You give up your life to fight witches.”
Nigredo sighed. “And I told you. There’s no monsters like that here.”
“Well,” the other replied, smiling at him for a beat. “The process would be the same. You can still help me out here, just by making a contract with me. You become a Puella Magi, and I’ll be able to continue as I am. With no contracts, I’m not fulfilling any purpose here.” His lips twisted like an actor’s, or someone unused to expressing emotions. “Do you understand that, Nigredo?”
Any expression died on the Variant’s face. “…I’ll think about it.” He looked at the boy, then turned to leave, arms tight at his side.
The boy raised an arm to wave. “You know where to find me when you decide.”
---
Saturday came and went with nothing to speak of. Sunday was a bit more of a bustle, nurses cheerily directing visitors to and from rooms. To add to that, there was a board meeting in the morning, and Martin had spent the high hours of the morning cleaning the entirety of his office just to find out that it was rescheduled for the director’s (fat bastard) convenience. As if he didn’t have things to work around either. He wasn’t here all the time, after all, and now he had nothing to do for half the day, no paperwork, and--
Lydia’s voice called out the shift change over the intercom, and a smile slid over Landel’s face. Fingers reached for the stamped pile of approved visitors, and flipped to “K.” Then the man grinned further. When in doubt, after all. Compare notes.
---
If paperwork reminded him of another, comparing details would be attributed to Kane. It was too easy to coax the man into his office again, despite the disgust the bloomed on the blond’s face as soon as Martin swung into view, smiling cheerily and welcoming Dmitri here once again. Of course, the man hadn’t seen any problem in engaging in a fierce debate on the newest gene therapy growths, or had any hesitance in slamming Martin (once again) against the man’s hardwood desk. He would need a new one if this kept up.
“My, my,” the head doctor gave, pleased. “And here I thought you hated me.”
The position gave more to that deduction, one of Kane’s hands wrapped tight around Landel’s neck, weighing downward. Dmitri’s lips curled in a smirk, more aptly seen on a younger member of the family. “Hmph.”
Despite the position, Martin’s eyes glanced upward to the contents of his desk. Five hours of meticulous cleaning and now this. Papers simply strewn haphazardly. “…This was clean, you know,” he said dryly, staring at the other man.
“So it was,” came the low tones. Fingers tightening around Landel’s neck, and from his side, Dmitri’s other hand came to cup the other through his pants. “The lack of blood to your brain, I presume?”
Hm. Not quite. “Go with that, if you like.” A grip tightened, and Martin winced, throbbing into the heat of the man’s hand. Kane let go, then pulled Landel upright by his neck, not waiting for the other to get his feet before slamming his face against the by-now, fiercely untidy desk.
---
It wasn’t that Nigredo did not have a wish. Despite evidence to the contrary, he had many wishes--many, many wishes that had no chance of coming true with things as they stood. With existences placed as they were. There was a simple wish, besides those, but he didn’t think Kyubey would agree to it since Nigredo would lose the value he gained making the wish.
…Unless he died and was still alive. Albedo said they were zombies? He didn’t see how being a zombie would be useful at all.
If he…thought about it. There was something else. Something that had been lurking behind his eyes for the past two weeks since a name was uttered over a loudspeaker to a groan. (And what had that been about, anyway?) Nigredo didn’t doubt this place knew the name of their maker, but why had the head doctor been saying it so easily out of nowhere? Certainly there were others with the name. It wasn’t as if he had said “Dmitri Yuriev,” after all. Just Dmitri. Or would it be Dmitri Kane? Would he have a different first name? David, Donald, Dexter…. No. None of those really fit their father at all.
…And why was he “Nigel?” How did that fit him--well, any more than Nigredo did, if he was honest, and--
Digressing. The fact of the matter was…
Nigredo had killed him. Entirely. And that would have been enough, if not for Albedo’s questioning on if he was sure. And he was sure. Completely. Because he had to be sure. He was successful. He had to have been.
He had felt it, hadn’t he? The bullet piercing his head like it had his father.
Something like unease drifted through him, and he glanced up, finding Kyubey watching him, expression like a corpse’s. As if nothing passed behind his eyes. After a moment, the smaller boy seemed to check himself and smiled, waving enthusiastically before bounding off to catch someone’s arm, tipping a head against them.
Like a cat, Nigredo thought, and his lips thinned at the other and their offer, and yet he still considered.
---
If he had to truly answer, the feeling of another pressing against him, pressing inside him, was a kind of empowerment in itself. Yes, true, he was the one pinned down with his belt strapped tight enough to stop circulation in his wrists and hands. But. He was also the one causing that reaction; causing the teeth at his neck to tear the skin, the nails at his side to dig into his skin, hips to arch in just that way to hit a spot inside of him that made detailing the human body’s reactions all the more delightful. He gasped on an intake, forcing out a response. “A-and still we keep meeting like this, after a--”
The rest of what he would have said was to remain a mystery as Kane reached a hand to grab Landel’s bound hands, pulling them toward the man’s shoulder blades where the joints threatened to dislocate under the strain. He nearly came then, as he screamed in response, and decided he was ever-so-glad that Doyle had advised on soundproof walls in all of the executive rooms. Of the other man, Dmitri only chuckled darkly, pressing the bound limbs a little higher. Landel’s body tensed, and Kane shuddered in response to the tightening around him.
…Power, you see. It was quite obvious when you looked at it.
---
“Have you thought of a wish?” the small boy demanded cheerfully. His head tipped to the side and back, and Nigredo wondered if the other heard music like his brother or was simply compensating for a missing limb with all his motion. Lightly, as if he weighed nothing, Kyubey quickly jumped to balance on a shrub before leaping to again perch on the courtyard wall he was always on when Nigredo found him. The other crouched, staring with bland pleasantness, and again his eyes shone.
The Variant wondered what it said of him, that the inhuman aspects were reassuring.
“Have you?” Kyubey prodded, and Nigredo’s attention fled backwards. Had he? Of course he had. An unknowing would do that to you, a constant prying and wondering--all “what ifs” and “maybes.” Was it worth an extended existence? Likely not, though the other boy had told him--even with the restrictions place, Nigredo might receive added abilities, and then, it might be possible to make it that his brother would not have to receive any injuries again.
“Maybe,” he said flatly, staring blatantly as the other did. Kyubey only tilted his head. “Your only purpose is to make contracts?”
Kyubey nodded. “Yep! And grant wishes to make Puella Magi. The energy that they give me is what I need for my purpose. That’s all.” Said so pleasantly as if no one had ever doubted. Nigredo eyed him warily. Kyubey leaned forward, fluffy hair waving in the light breeze. “So will you make a contract?”
---
It started as it always had. Terse derision turning into snapped arguments, then to violence, and by the time it got to that stage, Landel called it a success. Touching was the goal, after all. If the man punched him, he was likely to run his tongue along his chest all the same. The crossover was severe and complete, and Martin would not have it any other way. He had ended on his back, wrists still bound and now held above his head, Dmitri’s teeth nipping at his ribs. Landel exhaled on a groan, and Kane’s hand edged from the other’s hip to brush against Martin’s length, the feel of calluses around soft skin provoking a squirm and shifting. The movement made Kane tighten his grip and drive in harder, forcing a moan from the other. Tongue traced upward to bite at a collarbone, Kane’s hand moving in succession with his hips, intent on ending the other and leaving him more worthless than he already was.
It is at this moment, that Nigredo appears in the room, with a full view of his father’s backside pinioning away into their enemy as Landel came with a cry.
---
Let’s backtrack.
---
“So will you make a contract?”
“…Only if you can guarantee the outcome of my request.”
The smaller boy’s lips slipped apart in an overly wide grin, teeth too white to be real shining in the dark. “I can. I can grant any wish you have--though, remember; here, I can only affect your fate. No one else’s.”
Here again, there was a stumble of indecision. A plethora of choices were raised before him, positive and negative alike, and none could be affected but Nigredo, and yet still, that allowed options to him. Even if he did not default to his own demise, if he kept his promise to his sibling, there were other things he wished to know.
The last moments of the one he had called father, for one.