Johnstone, Johnstone, my darling boy Johnstone. "Pleading" on the BTHB card for him?
ID: Bad Things Happen Bingo Card
BTHB 1C - Pleading
BTHB Masterpost
Sorry about the wait, but I don't like rushing UwU Johnnybastard is certainly tough to make plead, but I think I have a way of forcing him :)
CONTENT AND WARNINGS: Dehumanisation, it/its as dehumanising pronouns, whumper turned whumpee, this episode, on 'How Homoerotic Could This Conceivably Get?' (even though Dathrir's gender is unfathomable, the spirit is there, (it's sfw tho dw)), wait, how the FUCK did I write hand whump (sliced thumb, EW), noncon turning (not a vampire thing, but a demon thing... even though vampires are a type of demon in these realms... idfk but Johnstone gets the worse deal) it's not transformation /yet/, forced blood drinking
wc: ~1k
“On your knees.”
Dathrir grabbed the restrained human’s throat, and with their free hand, their fingers wandered through its hair, and the clawed tips scraped over its scalp. The threat sent a chill down the human’s spine despite the snarl that stayed fixed on its face.
It took nothing to force it down, despite its viciously growled protests.
Compared to when he stood tall as a House Master, the human in front of them was small. It was probably the ragged clothes, and grimy, bloodied face that gave that impression.
Fallen from humanity’s grace.
A traitor.
A smile crept onto their features. “What a fun game…” they purred.
Fury burnt in those strange, odd coloured eyes. Dathrir recalled that eyes of odd colours were unusual in humans. It’d make a striking demon…
The human gnashed at the cloth gag, as if sensing the malice Dathrir exuded. The way it tried to cling desperately to any power or authority it previously had was amusing, but did not excuse its insubordination and crimes.
“You stole that belunae from me, you know. By getting greedy, sloppy. By getting stupid. I thought you were one of the more intelligent ones. If you had simply followed protocol, well... perhaps even... made a special request...” Dathrir drawled, “we wouldn’t be in this little mess now, would we?”
Their wandering fingers snapped shut and gripped a fistful of ratty blond hair, tearing scalp. The human let out a muffled roar that was as angry as it was pained. Blood seeped through its hair and a thin trail slid down its forehead.
“Hm, let me think… You failed to appoint another Head Hunter, lied in reports on multiple occasions, knowingly appointed a belunae in your Squad—one that you should have passed up—and you kept another as a pet in your little power fantasy. I must say, I admire your ingenuity… but not your stupidity.”
The human glared.
“Sorrel Johnstone, wasn’t it?” they asked. A shadowy smirk darkened their features as they tugged the gag from the human’s mouth. They spoke again, “You broke the House Order. Beg for forgiveness you pathetic fucking dog—give me one good reason not to execute you for treason, and I just might let you live.”
“Ever the fool… That’s okay though, I’ll enjoy spilling your blood.”
In a flash, a blade spun in their hand, the tip finding the snarling human’s throat.
The human inhaled sharply and froze, eyes going wide with an entertaining mixture of fury and fear.
Dathrir hummed a giggle, “Cat got your tongue…?”
The spark of defiance in the human’s eyes brightened to flames at the taunt. Its body quivered. Dathrir could hear the way the human’s hands worked in their bindings, itching to break loose and unleash the rage that so clearly roiled within. In the face of Dathrir, the bravery was almost admirable—it was willing to start a fight it surely knew it would lose. Then again, bravery was just a term to comfort the foolhardy.
Dathrir released the human, but not after a light swipe that left a fine, weeping mark across its throat. Perhaps now it would consider the command.
“This can go on as long as you’d like, but I’m sure you’d like to get back to business and rebuild your House,” they said with a quirked eyebrow. “So, why don’t you make it quick. Beg sweetly for me, and I will let you go.”
This got the human’s attention.
Clearly, it had expected to die here, but a change in tactic seemed to yield the results Dathrir desired. The rage still burned beneath its skin, its heavy breathing was a sure tell.
“Let me go,” Johnstone started in a low tone.
“Tsk tsk, the magic word...?”
“Please. Let me go please.”
“Oh I’m sure you can do better,” Dathrir quipped, “after all, you’ve heard it plenty of times, haven’t you?”
Even if only a mockery, the human’s next attempt was at least a fraction more believable, “Please let me go—I’ll do anything...!”
They would make them beg.
Dathrir stroked its hair. “Good boy... That wasn’t so hard now was it? There’s just one more thing before you go,” they drawled with an odd smile, unlocking the cuffs that bound the human.
“And what’s that?” it said, strangling its harsh tone.
Perhaps there was hope, it knew its unspoken boundaries and attempted to adhere, if only as a means to an end.
“This—” Dathrir sliced their thumb on the knife. Thick, dark blood immediately pooled at the tip and dribbled down in a fast stream. Dathrir lunged at the human faster that, it could blink, and shoved their thumb between its lips.
The human recoiled instantly at the taste of Dathrir’s foul blood and tried vainly to spit it out. Dathrir sealed its mouth, but it bit down hard through its clear disgust, tearing at their skin with blunt teeth, clearly trying to dismantle their hand one digit at a time. Had Dathrir been human, they would have screamed.
Instead, what they called pain was a warmth that blossomed and spread up their thumb and through their hand. The tears in their skin simply released more of their blood, prompting a muffled, frustrated scream from the human at their mercy. It struggled harder. It gave up causing them pain, instead trying to quell the sickening burning in their mouth and remove the substance that caused it.
Dathrir smiled, satisfied when the human had swallowed enough. They released it suddenly, letting it hurl itself across the floor. Blood glistened on its lips and the corners of its mouth, and more, mixed with saliva dribbled out of its mouth as it coughed and gagged, groaning lowly.
“What the fuck was that,” the human spat in a raspy voice.
Dathrir smiled, revealing fangs. “Oh,” they purred, “you’ll see.” It won’t be human for much longer, they thought, to be hunted by one’s own people is the most fitting punishment for a traitor.
“Guards, get rid of it. Take it to an alley near here, and then leave me,” they said, “I’d like to watch the show.”
“What the fuck—do you mean, you demon piece of shit?!” the human seethed between coughs.
Before Dathrir deigned to give another vague answer, the human twisted suddenly with a scream, no doubt caused by the corruption that flooded its body.
“Make it stop—! ARGH!” it yelled, agony cracking its strained voice. “Let me go and I’ll—consider letting—you live! If the other houses found out—”
“They won’t,” Dathrir said, “they haven’t for almost a thousand years~ Besides, no one would ever listen to a demon.”
“Let me FUCKING GO!” it screeched, leaping up and lunging toward Dathrir.
The guards caught it and held it back a mere inch from the unflinching Dathrir’s throat. It scrabbled in their hold, the bout of corruption seemingly over. The first ones they endured, Dathrir noted, always seemed less severe, and were shorter. For now, the pathetic creature that struggled restrained before them, murder in their eyes, would be fine. Perhaps it wouldn’t even notice what was happening until it was too late.
It was always captivating to see what a hunter would do when stripped of their humanity. Perhaps this one would be especially interesting, given its ego.
Dathrir hummed lowly, an ominously victorious, jovial sound, “As you wish.”
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