RELEASE THE EVIL
Kink Meme 2.0
Same rules as last time.
post a request anonymously with the pairing of your choice and a prompt/kink/what have you, fill requests that catch your eye!
- one request per comment!
- if you make a request, please try and fill one too!
- have fun!
- chat is full of terrible people!
Same rules as last time.
post a request anonymously with the pairing of your choice and a prompt/kink/what have you, fill requests that catch your eye!
- one request per comment!
- if you make a request, please try and fill one too!
- have fun!
- chat is full of terrible people!
It wasn’t just destiny, anymore. It was revenge.
“It’s time!” And the crackle of energy in the room made every hair stand on end. Without someone to stop him, he clashed with the virus again as Arjia was torn apart, grimly listening to the monster’s taunts in that harmonic ugly corrupted tone. “What chance does a glitch like you have against me? I am beyond what you can comprehend!” He had enough of a chance, and he knew enough. He’d dragged every scrap of data he could from the shards of the virus’s shattered disc. He knew and he still couldn’t care because the virus made him destroy his friend. “I will infect you slowly, make you feel every iota spreading through your body, make you enjoy every excruciating sensation!”
Didn’t make good on that promise, did he?
They fought once more, not long after. He couldn’t remember it; it was a chunk of data missing because he wasn’t him, just a… backup copy. Replacement Him. But the virus never resurfaced, and he assumed it was really gone. Something had been disappointing about it, though. Never really being able to finish the fight. Not being able to see the virus derezz with his own eyes, crumble into glittering bits of destroyed coding. Feel something like real triumph.
But then there was the falling, and the station, and the virus was waiting for him. His programming - automatic concern for the station, need to eliminate the threat quicky - conflicted with his own feelings, the longing to leap into another protracted battle, hurt the virus the way he’d hurt for so many cycles. Because even if he lied to himself, he still remembered everything with unbelievable clarity. And they’d make each other suffer again, just like those decicycles he remembered so well. Part of him was terrified, but mostly he was ready. This was how it was supposed to be.
And now the virus’s hand was around his neck and he’s been hoisted off the ground, kicking uselessly at the air and clawing at the virus’s big forearm. He’d been caught unawares, grabbed from a street in Banks and hauled into an alleyway. He snarled in rage, but it was cut off as his back slammed into the wall behind him, once, twice. He heard the bricks cracking under the assault through his daze. When he finally stopped seeing double, there was a yellow-lit helmet very close to his, half-shrouded by a too-familiar cloak. “Little Monitor. You have failed again.”
A touch to the back of his neck sent him into another frenzy, though panicked, as his helmet started decompiling. His face-! The next chuckle from the virus was more amused than anything, and he was suddenly startled by the virus decompiling his own helmet. It only made it halfway up the bridge of the virus’s nose before he crushed their lips together harshly. His processors raced to catch up with this turn of events, but he was far beyond it, biting at the virus’s lip harshly as his throat was squeezed more tightly. He swatted at the virus, knocking the hood of the cloak down in time to have a body pressed against his and throb of agony raced through his circuits. Corruption.
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