Mirror Image | By : PickledGinger Category: +S to Z > Soul Eater Views: 2130 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater and make no money from this |
AN: Wooo boy. I don’t know where to begin. Um, this started from searching a kinkmeme for inspiration for a quick one-shot to help stir up creativity for my other story. It worked, but this story then took off with a life of its own. Technically it is complete as it was meant to be a one-shot, but I’m finding myself wanting to do more and more horrible things to the scythe. So please, if you review, tell me if you want to see more of this.
So, warnings. Slight spoilers? It takes place during episode 49 ( I believe ) of the anime. Contains rape/noncon, so please read at your own risk.
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Soul had always known that the tenuous balance he had between the power and the insanity of the black blood was always going to shift and that he was going to inevitably slip into the madness. It really wasn’t possible to reap nothing but benefits from something so dangerous and every time he had bolstered his resonance with Maka with the blood’s power the scythe had held his breath and waited. Was this the time that his luck would run out? And he would let the air out with a rather shaky sense of relief when he discovered that no, it was not.
The relief was always short lived. The longer he waited for the inevitable to happen, the worse it would inevitably be…
He sat in front of the piano, fingers dancing lightly over the keys as he deftly plucked at the notes that connected him to the other weapon-meister pairs. Soul could see Black Star running, Tsubaki held tightly in his hands, while Kid aimed Patti and Liz at the grinning kishin. Asura. Just the sight of the man – if he could be called that – filled the scythe with rage and he found himself pounding down on the keys harder than necessary. The music that came out was harsh and off-tempo and Maka faltered and nearly tripped at the sudden change.
“Oops,” Soul muttered. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Just keep your mind on the battle!”
Easier said than done. The scythe nodded and closed his eyes, visualizing the way the teens were attacking the kishin. Black Star and Kid had knocked the monster off guard and now it was up to Maka to land the final blow. All they needed was one hit from her anti-evil wavelength and this would be all over. Asura would be destroyed, the world would be saved, and everything would go back to-
Something dark and black oozed up from between the white piano keys and Soul hesitated for a moment, finger hovering over the final note as it started to spread out over the rest of the instrument. He knew he should take the chance and finish the attack, but the sight of the black substance made his breath catch in his throat. This is it. This is what I was waiting for.
And there was almost a sense of relief when it rose up and washed over him. At least – at least – this meant that there would be no more waiting.
~~~~~~~~
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Something warm was dripping onto his cheek and Soul groaned as his eyes slowly fluttered open. For a moment he thought that he must have hit his head – that seemed to be the only explanation as to why he was staring at himself. It was only a second later that it clicked that maybe this wasn’t himself he was seeing, maybe this was something he should be worried about, and he tried to jerk his arms forward to push the image away. Only he couldn’t because his wrists were tied together above his head, and when the scythe tilted up he could see a red-black stain that was the source of the constant splattering against his skin.
Oh. Oh?
“So nice to see you awake Soul.” The image spat the name out but grinned crookedly as he reached out to touch the bound scythe’s cheek. His fingers splayed over his skin as they traced lazy patterns in the blood and it clicked for Soul just what was standing in front of him.
“You look a little different,” he said flatly, ignoring the feather-light touches across his cheek. “What happened, finally got tired of being a tiny little dwarf? I’d be complimented if you didn’t manage to make me look ugly.”
“It’s almost cute how you think you still matter.” The demon smirked and let his hand drop down to his side. “You refused to dance to the right song Soul and now the dance is going to continue on without you. Don’t worry, she’ll still have a partner. I knew the steps better than you anyway.”
The scythe paused for a moment as the demon’s words slowly registered. When the meaning finally hit he snarled and tried to lunge forward. The rope around his wrists held and his shoes slipped on the puddle of blood beneath him. Soul lost his balance and fell heavily, shoulders torqueing hard in their sockets as his full weight was suspended from his arms. He recovered quickly but hissed at the burn. “Don’t you, don’t you fucking dare touch her,” he spat out, glaring at the grinning demon.
“Oh Soul, poor little Soul,” the demon crooned as he reached out to cup Soul’s cheek. “You might need to worry about yourself first.” And the scythe just blinked, confusion returning as he felt the demon’s hand slide down, ghosting over his neck to stop on his chest. “You’re trapped in your own mind. Anything is possible here.”
Anything? The demon’s fingers suddenly curled in, nails digging into the weapon’s skin through the fabric of his shirt. There was a sudden ripping noise and Soul grimaced when he felt the demon’s hand on his bare skin. His meaning was being made abundantly clear as the teen frantically shook his head before lifting one foot up to kick him away. “Get the fuck away from me!”
“Temper, temper, temper.” The demon smirked as he stepped back, keeping well out of Soul’s range. The scythe ground his teeth as he tracked his movements and was caught completely off guard when his arms were suddenly jerked up higher. Whatever slack there had been in the rope quickly disappeared and he found himself balancing on the balls of his feet. The blood on the ground beneath him made that far more difficult than it should have been and the weapon found himself struggling to keep balanced and keep still. “Trust me when I say that mouthing off is only going to end up hurting you and not me.” There was a short pause before the demon laughed. “Regardless this is going to hurt you so I suppose it’s really a moot point.”
“Fuck you-“ Soul had started to spit out when something soft was balled up and shoved into his mouth. The cloth would have been spat out too if something sticky hadn’t been shoved over his lips. It took him only a second to realize that it was duct tape, or the closest approximation that one would find in his soul room. Because there’s nothing you can’t fix without duct tape, he thought and the idea almost made him laugh.
Almost.
“You know she’ll come looking for you-“ And Soul did know that, of course Maka would. “-and I can’t have you shouting out for her when she does. You just need to stay nice and quiet until this is all over.” The demon stepped back in front of him and Soul could do little more than glare hatefully at the creature that now wore his face. “But of course, until she does…” And the scythe’s red eyes widened as his mirror image leaned in to kiss him rather firmly over the tape. He felt nothing but hot breath blowing across his cheek and then the demon leaned in farther, nipping at his ear as he chuckled darkly. “I’m sure we can find a way to pass the time.”
And then the demon slipped out of his view, though Soul could feel the hand running over his chest. He pressed up behind him, hand teasing at the hole in the scythe’s shirt while his other hand started to creep down over his stomach. The weapon shuddered, feeling cold air blowing over the back of his neck, and he tried to shift away. There was no where he could go, though, and even that small movement made the muscles in his legs cramp. He made one more vain attempt to kick back at the demon, but the angle was poor and there was no strength behind the action, causing the monster to just laugh.
“Poor Soul.” Warm lips pressed against his neck, followed by a wet tongue and sharp, sharp teeth. Soul hissed as he felt the demon drag his fangs over his skin and he stiffened when he felt him biting down, the serrated edges puncturing his skin. “Don’t worry.” And the one hand continued to trail lower until the scythe heard a small ‘pop’ followed by a zip. His jeans slid down to his knees and the demon rested his hand on Soul’s hip.
No! The weapon shook his head frantically as he jerked back from the touch. All the action did, though, was cause him to rub back against the demon and Soul felt something hard start to press against his back. He jerked forward and into the demon’s waiting hand, groaning when he felt the palm rubbing against his crotch. It was just a bodily reaction, that was it, and the scythe was able to still his body as he continued to glare balefully into the darkness.
Just a bodily reaction. That was it.
“Are you enjoying this?” The demon whispered the words against his ear and Soul responded by trying to step back onto his foot. He couldn’t, of course, and it was a wasted act of defiance, but at least he tried. The demon snorted and the scythe felt him step back. He couldn’t crane his head far enough to see what was happening behind him, his arms prevented his head from turning, but the weapon heard the sound of clothes rustling and falling to the ground follow by the unmistakable sound of a zipper.
No. No. No no no nononono-
“Just let yourself go Soul.” The words that came from the demon’s mouth sounded so, so much like the scythe and it was hard not to think that maybe, maybe he really was telling himself to do this. He had always known that the madness would overtake him so maybe there really was no point in fighting. Maybe this was just the inevitability that he always knew would come. Maybe, maybe-
Nails dug into his hips before grabbing at his boxers and tugging them down. Soul’s eyes went wide as he felt equally naked flesh press up behind him and the hardness he had felt before was still there, pressing up between his legs. The demon must have been smirking as he reached out and grasped the scythe’s cock, fingers trailing over his length as Soul felt a sudden uncomfortable jolt twist his stomach. The heat and pressure that was starting to pool in his abdomen was familiar and in practically any other situation would have been welcomed, but now it was the last thing he wanted.
Just a reaction, just a reaction, doesn’t mean I like this. I don’t like this, I don’t want him touching me, I don’t!
“You know you want to Soul. You know you’re enjoying this.” And the demon continued to play his fingers over the weapon’s quickly hardening shaft. It was starting to feel good, way too good, and Soul moaned as his eyes slowly drifted shut. If he couldn’t see then it somehow wasn’t really happening and if it wasn’t happening then he didn’t have to worry about it, right? His hips started to buck forward and he felt a hot blush spread over his cheeks as the demon laughed, his own voice mocking him. Not real. It doesn’t count it’s not real.
He was breathing heavily as the demon’s hand curled around his cock and started to pump. Despite his efforts Soul’s hips were now rocking, not much and not far but very definitely in rhythm with the unwanted touch. A small part of the scythe’s mind tried to claim that maybe if he went along and got it over with the demon would leave him alone but there was no justification for this. “Such a little-“ The hand squeezed a little tighter as it pumped up and down his length. “Horny.” Fingernails trailed around the base of the head and the weapon whimpered, finding it hard to get any air. “Slut.” A thumb dragged over the head and now he moaned, so close so close-
The hand abruptly pulled away, leaving Soul panting and wanting. His hips rocked forward in a vain attempt to find the missing hand before the weapon flushed as the realization of just what he was doing hit him. The demon had tied him up and stripped him and here he was, acting like he wanted it. Slut slut slut. The monster with his face chuckled again. “Don’t worry Soul. I don’t plan on leaving you hanging.”
The weapon shook his head, face burning as he heard the demon mocking him. Soul squeezed his eyes shut as he felt lips on his ear again and the hand swirling around the head of his cock. Before he could lose control the hand disappeared. “I’m being nice and making sure you’re ready. Aren’t you going to thank me?”
Ready? The scythe had no idea what the demon meant until he felt a finger press up against his entrance. His eyes immediately snapped open and he tried to shift away, but there was nowhere for him to go. The finger teased around the muscle before pushing in, slick from the weapon’s own precum. Soul inhaled sharply and shook his head, feeling tiny pin-pricks at the corner of his eyes. “What? You think you’re ready now?” And another finger was suddenly roughly shoved in. “Well, you’re the boss here. Whatever you say.”
No. No! The demon pulled his fingers apart and Soul groaned from pain, the pin-pricks starting to burn as his eyesight started to waver. Something warm and wet slid along his neck followed by a sharp pain and the weapon realized the demon was licking and biting him as he pulled and thrust his fingers in and out of the bound teen. The fingers inside of him curled and the scythe found himself moaning at the sudden, oh god, what the hell was he feeling?
And then suddenly the fingers were gone and he felt the demon wiping them clean on his hip. The flush across his cheeks might as well have been permanent at this point and he let his eyes close. Something warm dripped down his skin and Soul couldn’t tell if it was the blood again or if he had started crying, but at the moment it hardly mattered.
“Ready?” the demon whispered. The only warning Soul had was feeling the tip of the monster’s erection against his entrance, and then-
“Mmmm!” His eyes snapped open and his entire body tensed at the sudden pain. Soul curled his fingers around the rope that was holding him up as another pained sob tore itself from his throat, muffled by the gag and tape that covered his mouth. He heard himself – because it wasn’t really the demon, it was just him – murmur something about how hard he was and how hot and good this felt and how they really should have done this sooner. The scythe could only groan again as he stared up at the red-black ceiling. Fingers gripped his hips and nails dug into his skin as he felt the demon pull out before slamming back in.
The monster’s movements were fast and ragged and Soul could feel his breath on his neck as the demon started to reach his peak. He dug his nails into the knot of rope above his head and tried to focus on the feeling of the rope rubbing against his skin, the course strands rubbing his wrists raw. It’ll be over, just let it be over… And as the demon inhaled sharply he thought that, maybe, it was and he could start trying to forget everything like a bad nightmare.
Even as he was thinking that a hand pressed flat on his stomach before crawling down to Soul’s forgotten hardness. The pleasure had disappeared during the demon’s rough thrusting into the scythe but it didn’t take long for the skillful fingers to bring it back. It wasn’t enough to override the pain but it was enough to make the weapon whimper and moan, hips moving in tempo with the monster’s thrusting as his hand started to slowly pump Soul’s cock. It wasn’t moving fast enough and wasn’t gripping tight enough to push the weapon far enough and he found himself starting to become desperate for relief.
Just- a little- more-
The hand pulled away from his erection as the demon gripped Soul’s shoulders tightly. The weapon heard his own voice moaning in pleasure as something warm started to fill inside of him. When the demon pulled back he could feel it running down his leg and dripping onto his underwear and jeans, but all he was focused on was his aching erection and the release that the demon kept on denying him. The monster chuckled darkly again and wiped his hands clean on the front of Soul’s shirt.
“What’s wrong?” he practically purred. “Is there something that you need?” One hand was placed on his shoulder, fingers dancing along the fabric of the jacket as the demon stepped around to stand before Soul. The weapon could only stare back at him, utter helplessness evident in his expression. “Is that something that you want me to do?” And he leaned in to brush his lips over the duct tape. “Something that you need?”
Soul groaned as he felt the demon reach down to run his thumb over the tip of his cock. It jerked and he whined, eyes rolling back as he tried to will the monster to just finish him off. He had gotten him this close and brought him down this far, the least he could do was-
“Soul?”
The weapon froze and the demon smirked. “Looks like the final player is finally here,” he said, drawing back. Soul just shook his head, eyes pleading, but there was nothing he could do as his mirror image started to dress. Pants, shirt, jacket, tie, and within moments he was a picture-perfect replication of the weapon. He smirked as he reached up, straightening his tie. “Don’t worry. I promise I’ll take good care of your darling partner.” And the demon leaned in one final time, kissing him hotly over the tape while Soul just moaned.
There was nothing he could do and nothing he could say to stop the demon from leaving, and when he was gone Soul was left in the dark. He looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes, tears now running freely down his cheeks as he was left suspended in need and in shame.
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