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veiledallegory2010-02-22 04:39 am
eternity_dreams) wrote in veiledallegory2010-02-22 04:39 am
Entry tags:
Damned/Xenosaga: FML.
Title: FML. (FEEL MUCH LOVING OR FUCK MY LIFE)
Fandom: Damned/Xenosaga.
Warnings: R. R R R. R.
Word Count: 1248.
Characters: Martin Landel. Dimitri Kane(Dmitri Yuriev). Cameos of the URTV trio, Lydia, and Zelda(Zora).
Notes: Failed torture.
Summary: No.
"Good morning, Dr. Kane," the voice chirped cheerily. "Have you been enjoying your tour through our facilities?"
The aforementioned turned to face the other man, unamused. "Of course. Your establishment is well-run. However..." Dr. Kane raised an eyebrow slightly. "How this concerns checking on my children is beyond me."
Landel chuckled, the sound too freely given to be actual. "Oh, well. I thought I would take you on a tour while they were getting ready. You know your offspring. Such mischievous little things."
Kane suppressed a sigh. He received full, five page reports weekly on what Landel referred to as 'mischief'. "Which, then? George? Or Alan?"
Landel laughed outright. "Oh, so you do know them! Haha, well, all three if you want the truth. They seemed to have a disagreement this morning... We had to calm them down, so they've been sleeping the past few hours. Little rascals."
Kane pressed a hand to his temple. Between the children that had become suspect to mental instability and the man in front of him, Kane was nursing a growing headache. If this visit could be completed, he could return to some sense of normality; return to the two story home with the honor-school daughter. One obedient daughter was far easier to take care of than three unruly boys. Though in truth... Through their lives, only the twins had ever been trouble. Nigel suddenly....
"So it'll just be a little bit longer, Dr. Kane," Landel continued if there had been no break in conversation. "In the meantime, would you like to join me in my office? I've heard you've made some breakthroughs in the scientific community as of late, and I'd be so interested to hear them...."
It was all about control, one might say. His colleague would have said belief and the force of people's wills, but to Landel, it was always about control. Even bent backward over his desk, the other man's thick hair in his face as he savaged his neck, Landel's pressed shirt roughly wrenched from his creased pants, he would insist. It was about control. And he had it. Giving one the opportunity to believe they were in control... Oh, yes. He knew all about it, every day to every night, and this was no different. No different at all. He may have laughed, and the man over him growled, grabbing Landel's hair and yanking back.
Martin laughed louder. "You know..." he started, tone still amused despite the gasps. "Your children tell such wondrous tales." Another yank. Landel gasped, then the noise became verbal as teeth tested his neck. He shuddered, the movement continuing further down. This was acknowledged by Kane roughly grabbing him through his designer pants, the action prompting a deep groan. Landel felt the smirk against his neck and coughed, chuckling. "Experiments, for one. They say you did experiments on them."
There was nothing but anger in dragging Martin's pants down. Nothing but fury receding in the sense of superiority regained in Kane's eyes as he positioned himself. The look could be described as an arrogant neutrality, and Landel hated it. He hated it so much. But then Kane forced his way in, the pain bringing waves of blackness to his vision and euphoria to his senses, and Martin didn't care. It was about control. And he had all the time to gain it.
He could time his thrusts to the thoughts in his head. The man couldn't know. (slam.) There was no way he could know. (slam.) There was nothing Landel could know that was the truth. The rhythm continued, undaunted. The man beneath him was of no regard. His mind moved.
They would put no stock in his children's tales. They were deemed insane, after all; who would believe such ridiculous accusations? Who would think to test the words, look into his research and how he would not have gotten the results except for subjects? They were young, after all, had been younger then. They couldn't remember details. They wouldn't remember what had happened in their tender years.
Movement was becoming freely, documents underneath stained red. Kane didn't care. Blood made everything easier.
The noise had continued, sharp inhales to come out as whines. The pain had stopped some time ago, numbness rising up to become a dull warmth to spread through his being. It was slowly intensifying, each pinion gradually increasing the sensation. Martin reached up, digging fingers into the other's back, smirking half-heartedly when Kane's vacant expression turned annoyed. The thrust after that was fierce, and Martin moaned, the noise dying off as the action's repeated. Air came in gasps, and that was all that was allowed. The man above him made the slightest noise, a grunt or a groan, and Landel glanced up through half-lidded eyes. The sheen of sweat covered Kane's face, his mouth ajar, as his eyes started to close. Lost somewhere between victory and oblivion, ancient fears and unsuccessful hopes, Martin smirked, and tensed his muscles. Wrapped around the other man, the effect was obvious.
The second groan was louder, and Landel was satisfied in the warmth that was felt. Kane slumped over him momentarily, then pulled out abruptly. Martin yelped. The other gave no notice to the sound, simply pulled up his pants and refastened them. Kane strode to the door, grabbing his coat from the chair nearby. As the man pulled it open, Landel called lazily, "Do come again. I love our little chats."
The door was slammed, Martin's erection wavering in the chill waves of air. There was endless time in which to play out this drama.
Exiting the office, Dmitri Kane straightened his jacket, unmoved by the previous encounter. He would not wait around for anything else. Following the path that was becoming familiar, Kane walked down the hall, booted clicking sternly. Within two doorways, he was at the back entrance, guarded only by an intermediary check-in room. Outside that room, he paused, sounds that he had just heard echoing. Frowning, the man opened the door wide, showing in full the head nurse pinning his assistant to the check-in counter. Both women froze, Lydia's mouth around the other's nipple.
Unperturbed, Kane stepped through the room. "Zelda. We're leaving."
There was a fumble to straight clothes and hop into shoes, and then the assistant followed the doctor out of the institution that played with his sons' lives. It was no different, really, from anything that he had done.
The three siblings found themselves in each other's company that night, despite the previous circumstances. Each considered each other warily, the methods and reasonings for their own actions strange and silent. In the silence after, the intercom crackled, the familiarity that had rose from that calming whatever had been transpiring. The doctor's voice, however, was anything but.
"Hello, all..." he gasped out in uneven beats. "I'm... sure... each and ev--" The groan was audible. The red Variant's eyes widened. "Every... one of you... had a... great day.... I, too... had an intr--" Again, the sound came. "...Interesting... day."
The eldest whipped around to the two he was previously at odds with, clamping a hand over an ear of each. The two exchanged a glance. "Cover your ears! Don't listen! Oh, man...."
Confused and wary, the two still slowly raise hands to their ears, moments too late. Another groan, longer than the rest is accompanied by a breathed, "Dmitri."
In the silence, Albedo laughs, Nigredo sobs, and Rubedo swears. This is how life continues.
Fandom: Damned/Xenosaga.
Warnings: R. R R R. R.
Word Count: 1248.
Characters: Martin Landel. Dimitri Kane(Dmitri Yuriev). Cameos of the URTV trio, Lydia, and Zelda(Zora).
Notes: Failed torture.
Summary: No.
"Good morning, Dr. Kane," the voice chirped cheerily. "Have you been enjoying your tour through our facilities?"
The aforementioned turned to face the other man, unamused. "Of course. Your establishment is well-run. However..." Dr. Kane raised an eyebrow slightly. "How this concerns checking on my children is beyond me."
Landel chuckled, the sound too freely given to be actual. "Oh, well. I thought I would take you on a tour while they were getting ready. You know your offspring. Such mischievous little things."
Kane suppressed a sigh. He received full, five page reports weekly on what Landel referred to as 'mischief'. "Which, then? George? Or Alan?"
Landel laughed outright. "Oh, so you do know them! Haha, well, all three if you want the truth. They seemed to have a disagreement this morning... We had to calm them down, so they've been sleeping the past few hours. Little rascals."
Kane pressed a hand to his temple. Between the children that had become suspect to mental instability and the man in front of him, Kane was nursing a growing headache. If this visit could be completed, he could return to some sense of normality; return to the two story home with the honor-school daughter. One obedient daughter was far easier to take care of than three unruly boys. Though in truth... Through their lives, only the twins had ever been trouble. Nigel suddenly....
"So it'll just be a little bit longer, Dr. Kane," Landel continued if there had been no break in conversation. "In the meantime, would you like to join me in my office? I've heard you've made some breakthroughs in the scientific community as of late, and I'd be so interested to hear them...."
It was all about control, one might say. His colleague would have said belief and the force of people's wills, but to Landel, it was always about control. Even bent backward over his desk, the other man's thick hair in his face as he savaged his neck, Landel's pressed shirt roughly wrenched from his creased pants, he would insist. It was about control. And he had it. Giving one the opportunity to believe they were in control... Oh, yes. He knew all about it, every day to every night, and this was no different. No different at all. He may have laughed, and the man over him growled, grabbing Landel's hair and yanking back.
Martin laughed louder. "You know..." he started, tone still amused despite the gasps. "Your children tell such wondrous tales." Another yank. Landel gasped, then the noise became verbal as teeth tested his neck. He shuddered, the movement continuing further down. This was acknowledged by Kane roughly grabbing him through his designer pants, the action prompting a deep groan. Landel felt the smirk against his neck and coughed, chuckling. "Experiments, for one. They say you did experiments on them."
There was nothing but anger in dragging Martin's pants down. Nothing but fury receding in the sense of superiority regained in Kane's eyes as he positioned himself. The look could be described as an arrogant neutrality, and Landel hated it. He hated it so much. But then Kane forced his way in, the pain bringing waves of blackness to his vision and euphoria to his senses, and Martin didn't care. It was about control. And he had all the time to gain it.
He could time his thrusts to the thoughts in his head. The man couldn't know. (slam.) There was no way he could know. (slam.) There was nothing Landel could know that was the truth. The rhythm continued, undaunted. The man beneath him was of no regard. His mind moved.
They would put no stock in his children's tales. They were deemed insane, after all; who would believe such ridiculous accusations? Who would think to test the words, look into his research and how he would not have gotten the results except for subjects? They were young, after all, had been younger then. They couldn't remember details. They wouldn't remember what had happened in their tender years.
Movement was becoming freely, documents underneath stained red. Kane didn't care. Blood made everything easier.
The noise had continued, sharp inhales to come out as whines. The pain had stopped some time ago, numbness rising up to become a dull warmth to spread through his being. It was slowly intensifying, each pinion gradually increasing the sensation. Martin reached up, digging fingers into the other's back, smirking half-heartedly when Kane's vacant expression turned annoyed. The thrust after that was fierce, and Martin moaned, the noise dying off as the action's repeated. Air came in gasps, and that was all that was allowed. The man above him made the slightest noise, a grunt or a groan, and Landel glanced up through half-lidded eyes. The sheen of sweat covered Kane's face, his mouth ajar, as his eyes started to close. Lost somewhere between victory and oblivion, ancient fears and unsuccessful hopes, Martin smirked, and tensed his muscles. Wrapped around the other man, the effect was obvious.
The second groan was louder, and Landel was satisfied in the warmth that was felt. Kane slumped over him momentarily, then pulled out abruptly. Martin yelped. The other gave no notice to the sound, simply pulled up his pants and refastened them. Kane strode to the door, grabbing his coat from the chair nearby. As the man pulled it open, Landel called lazily, "Do come again. I love our little chats."
The door was slammed, Martin's erection wavering in the chill waves of air. There was endless time in which to play out this drama.
Exiting the office, Dmitri Kane straightened his jacket, unmoved by the previous encounter. He would not wait around for anything else. Following the path that was becoming familiar, Kane walked down the hall, booted clicking sternly. Within two doorways, he was at the back entrance, guarded only by an intermediary check-in room. Outside that room, he paused, sounds that he had just heard echoing. Frowning, the man opened the door wide, showing in full the head nurse pinning his assistant to the check-in counter. Both women froze, Lydia's mouth around the other's nipple.
Unperturbed, Kane stepped through the room. "Zelda. We're leaving."
There was a fumble to straight clothes and hop into shoes, and then the assistant followed the doctor out of the institution that played with his sons' lives. It was no different, really, from anything that he had done.
The three siblings found themselves in each other's company that night, despite the previous circumstances. Each considered each other warily, the methods and reasonings for their own actions strange and silent. In the silence after, the intercom crackled, the familiarity that had rose from that calming whatever had been transpiring. The doctor's voice, however, was anything but.
"Hello, all..." he gasped out in uneven beats. "I'm... sure... each and ev--" The groan was audible. The red Variant's eyes widened. "Every... one of you... had a... great day.... I, too... had an intr--" Again, the sound came. "...Interesting... day."
The eldest whipped around to the two he was previously at odds with, clamping a hand over an ear of each. The two exchanged a glance. "Cover your ears! Don't listen! Oh, man...."
Confused and wary, the two still slowly raise hands to their ears, moments too late. Another groan, longer than the rest is accompanied by a breathed, "Dmitri."
In the silence, Albedo laughs, Nigredo sobs, and Rubedo swears. This is how life continues.