Nina, like the truly unhinged woman she was, smirked. She had gotten under his skin so badly, hadn't she? Really wedged herself in there and refused to let go - and gods, this was going to hurt but it felt so good knowing that he hated her just as much as she hated him.
She has gotten deep, deep under his skin. He does hate her with a burning rage. She's bested him, humiliated him, and now has the gall to smirk in his face. His pride is very threatened by her, and he needs to assert his dominance, get his revenge.
Without another word, he moves swiftly behind her chair, grabs her wrist, and bends her right arm in the wrong direction until it breaks. It's easy; he's strong and she's built like a toothpick. A sickening snap cracks through the air, and he grins.
Nina expected something... different from a man so inclined toward bloodlust. A slow, torturous session of cutting and bleeding and agonizing, drawn out pain.
Instead, she got this. A broken arm within seconds, the sharp pain as the bone snapped and her head spun. Death Knight almost earned himself the scream he probably wanted, but Nina bit her lip and stifled it, offering only a faint moan of pain.
Edited (WRONG ALTER ) Date: 2024-06-24 12:34 am (UTC)
A scream would be nice, but isn't required for his sadistic satisfaction. He knows how much a broken bone hurts, and just the knowledge that she's in that kind of pain is enough for him. He drops her arm abruptly, and it falls down by her side, the movement no doubt flaring that pain.
"Oh, dear. It won't be quite so easy to jerk off your little boyfriend now."
He circles back around to look at her face, drawing his dagger once again.
Nina had broken bones plenty before, but it was so much different when she fell off something and landed wrong, as opposed to someone literally snapping the fucking bone with their bare hands. She was panting as her arm dropped, the pain pulsing through her entire body.
She said she wouldn't put up a fight, and she wouldn't, but she would absolutely spit in his face in response - aimed right for his mouth, too, like she was trying to prove a point.
His mouth twists downward slightly in disgust and his eyes narrow as he uses his sleeve to wipe the spit off his lips and chin.
A wave of rage compels him to force his thumb into her mouth and yank her jaw open. He grabs the tip of her tongue between finger and thumb, grip firm, and pulls it out of her mouth, holding his dagger against it. He growls, an edge of manic insanity in his tone.
"Perhaps I'll cut out your tongue, then, hm? You won't be able to yammer on like an imbecile, or suck his cock, or spit in my damn face."
It took everything in her not to bite down the second his thumb pressed against her tongue, her jaw clicking once with the force in which he pulled her mouth open. There was the briefest flash of panic in her eyes- there was a lot she could suffer through for this, but not being able to speak would make things far more difficult in the long run.
"Ca... can't scream - either." She struggled, the sound distorted and strange while he held her tongue. "Or beg-" both things she assumed he wanted at some point.
She also couldn't articulate the shit she went through to a fucking healer later which, hilariously, was her major concern. Nevermind the lancing pain from her broken arm and the fact that he was holding a knife near her face.
That was all assuming she got out of this alive. Nina was holding onto the vague hope that the Knight would be suitably satiated before it came to that.
"Ah-" a faint grunt of pain. Fuck. "Haven't even said shit to you-" if he even understood that one at all. In Nina's defense, she really could be a lot worse.
As she attempts to speak again, her tongue moves against the blade and it draws a little blood, which oozes onto her tongue. He watches it, his pupils dilating. He imagines it pouring out of her mouth, dripping down her chin, imagines her choking on it. While it's a delicious thought, she would probably die either from asphyxiation or blood loss, and that would cut their fun short just when he'd gotten to the good part.
"And you won't, if you want to keep this intact."
He pulls his dagger away, but as he does, swipes the blade along the surface of her tongue, leaving enough of a cut to bleed and hurt for a while, but not enough to cause any kind of major blood loss. He lets go of her tongue, but continues to hold her mouth slightly open with his thumb, watching the blood ooze between her teeth and onto her lips.
The familiar tang of her own blood made her nearly feral with her own brand of rage. It had been so long since she felt this kind of pain - and she couldn't even fight back against it. Not if she wanted to keep Jeritza and the majority of the city safe.
Can't even talk. What bullshit.
Blood pooled in her mouth as her wounded tongue retracted, drooled down her chin and splattered on her chest. Nina glared at him with an unbridled hatred, almost impressed by how easily she could discern between him and Jeritza now. Amazing how his very existence could make him look so wretched.
Death Knight hums with a smile as he watches the dark red, viscous liquid drip all over her. It's obscenely enjoyable, to the point where certain strange feelings happen in his body, a heat spreading. He ignores it.
There is only rage in her eyes; if she feels fear, it must be all immediately converted to anger, the way all of his emotions are.
"You and I may not be as different as you think," he murmurs, more thoughtful than anything. With how much she hates him, that comment will probably worsen her rage, and he prepares to have blood spat at him. No matter- he's used to being covered in blood.
If looks could kill, the Knight would be dead. There was nothing but pure hatred in her gaze, brown eyes all but burning red with it. Nina would admit she was all of those things- but she was not like him. She had a heart; she did not pray on innocents for her own sick sadistic pleasure. She wasn't a monster.
The only reason he didn't get blood spit on him was thanks to the way he held her mouth open. Instead, she growled - the sound primal and rising from her chest, the fingers on her still useful hand twitching.
Her growl gurgles in her throat. She looks like a tiny angry cat, cornered and about to unleash a flurry of scratches. He chuckles, low and dark, and removes his thumb from her mouth. He keeps his hand near her mouth, though, and then uses it to smear the blood down her neck and onto her chest, painting her red with his palm and fingers.
"You look like you want to tear my head from my shoulders. Might I remind you that you are the one who came here to me. Not that I could fathom why. Give in to the pain. The more you fight it, the more I will have to do to you."
If she were to cry and grovel, it would be more satisfying. But the way things are going, he will have to do more extreme things to break her.
Nina absolutely despised the way her body shuddered when he touched her; her own lust for violence apparent in the faintest arch of her back. Her offer to assuage his desires by more carnal means hadn't been a ploy - she would have happily done it once Jeritza had first been allowed the chance. Alas.
"You know exactly why I'm doing it." She said, spitting blood off to the side instead of directly into his face just to get it out of her mouth. "I'm not fighting you. Just do it." And, for whatever it was worth, there were tears already in the dips of her eyes, the ones she could not control as pain lanced through her with every move she made.
"Ah, yes, because you want to be a hero. A martyr. Save the city and poor Jeritza from my influence. Well, there is one thing he and I agree on. You are a fool."
There are tears gathering. That is encouraging. More pain, then. He doesn't often torture without the intent to kill. It is a different way of thinking. Maximum pain without enough blood loss for death... He figures the most bang for his buck will be the vial of corrosive acid he has. He moves to the counter to open it, then back to her to grab her good wrist. He holds it tightly as he pours the acid on the back of her hand, which begins to burn it almost immediately. He watches as the skin turns red and the liquid begins to eat at her flesh.
Speaking of evil pieces of shit - only someone that fucking evil would have a vial of acid on fucking tap. Nina watched him, eyes shifting from the vial to her hand, confused until it hit her skin. The pain was immediate and intense - more so than the broken bone because she knew what those felt like, knew what to expect. But this? Holy shit. "You fucking prick-!" she screeched, a volley of colorful words suddenly spouted in his direction, her head turned away so she didn't have to watch the acid eat away at her flesh, tears streaming down her cheeks despite every attempt to quell them.
"It is amusing that you think such words can hurt me."
As she starts shouting and swearing, he begins to laugh, low and quiet in the back of his throat. Finally, a reaction. He grins as his eyes glance from her wet, bloody face to the festering wound forming on the back of her hand. A strange smell fills the air, one of the acid and the breaking-down flesh. He still holds her wrist tightly. He knows how to neutralize this acid, but he isn't going to, not unless he starts to see muscle and bone.
There's resistance this time; instinctive and primal, her weight shifting to try and yank her arm away even if she knows she cannot. More swears spew from her lips, nonsensical and full of fury because she wants to hit him so fucking bad. Just lay into him with all she has.
But that would hurt Jeritza, and she's doing it for him. For the sake of everyone else so the fucking lunatic doesn't kill someone. Nina breathes like she's run a marathon, sweat beading her brow and dripping down her face to meld with the tears that will not cease. Blood and sweat and tears all splattering onto her bloodied chest, right atop the print left by his hand.
He laughs softly again, though the sound is still awful and sinister.
"Much better."
She is beginning to give into the pain, beginning to break. He lets go of her hand; it will continue to burn no matter what she does with it. The only relief will come from neutralizing it with a basic solution. He then pulls out his dagger again and places a hand on her shoulder, leaning over it to look more closely. He sinks the sharp tip of his knife into her deltoid muscle and drags it down, then takes it out. Sinks it in again, draws a curved line that connects to the other. It's deep enough to hurt terribly, bleed profusely, and to scar.
It's a brand. A "D".
A point of pride. Physical proof of his domination over her, in his mind. Something that would surely piss her and Jeritza off to no end, that he'd laid claim to her body, that he is always here and they can't get rid of him. And fuck them for trying to. He has just as much a right to live in this body as Jeritza does, with all he did to protect their mother and sister, and protect themselves from any threat. He has a right to exist.
"You will never be rid of me, Nina. So long as you are near Jeritza, you will be near me, too. I cannot be permanently killed, and I am not going anywhere. So you best get used to this."
Nina was gritting her teeth so hard it hurt - but not nearly as much as the rest of her hurt. Broken arm hanging at her side, a dull ache now in comparison to the pulsing, continuous pain of the acid burning into her flesh. All the knife did was make the pain ricochet back and forth between her shoulder and hand, head tipped back to stare up at the ceiling instead of anywhere on her absolutely fucked body. Or at him.
So bold of him to assume she wouldn't mutilate herself just to be rid of that brand - carve over it enough times to strike it out. She had scars enough already. What were a few more? But he had the satisfaction now. Had the satisfaction of making Nina Ironfist, the Ogreslayer, legend of Valsheria, weep and bleed and her only solace was in knowing it was only because she let him.
"And you - aha..." she gasped as pain surged through her, speech slurred with agony and blood loss. "You say I talk too much."
It doesn't matter what she says, anymore. Nothing can piss him off now. He's riding on the thrilling high of someone else's pain, and it's only made better by how much he hates her, how proud she always is. He steps back to examine his handiwork, just watching and listening. What is more delicious? The sight- blood painting her tight little body red, arm hanging limply at her side, bent and mangled strangely? Or the sound- the heaving breath, the stifled sobs, the moans of pain? It's all a beautiful show for him to drink in, to bask in.
His whole body feels warm and wonderful. His... Dick is twitching. Waking up. He ignores it. Pushes any sexual thoughts away aggressively. But it's not even thoughts, it's an automatic response from his body. It begins to disturb him, irritate him. No. Not for this girl. Disgusting. Revolting.
"Well. I suppose it's time for your boyfriend to clean up my mess. He'll have such fun with that. Until next time."
With that, he begins to disassociate, his face and eyes going blank. It seems to take a long time, him just standing there, swaying slightly.
"No-" fuck. Nina almost didn't want Jeritza to see the state she was in, knowing that his hands were the cause of it, at least in the physical sense. That hurt more than the broken bones and cuts and burning acid and fuck she didn't think that part through enough. The aftermath will be awful.
Nina stood from the chair, blood rushing, spilling onto the floor already soaked with it. She stumbled, still half sobbing as she tried to move away from him.
But she fell instead, slipped and toppled, twisting at the last second to brace herself on her unbroken arm, the feeling of her burned hand hitting the floor making her whimper. That was it. That is what truly broke her, her head bowed to rest against her forearm, the sizzling of her own skin right beside her ear, and she just... cried. Don't look at her. Please god don't look at her.
Jeritza has been buried deep in his inner world. Lost, frankly. He'd given up on trying to control his alter, given up on trying to manage his mental state or life. Without any chance at happiness or love, without Nina or anyone else to care for, what was the point? He no longer cared what happened to him.
He'd only become buried deeper as Death Knight tortured Nina and enjoyed himself too much to even think about giving up control of the body. So when he finally does disappear, Jeritza isn't right there to take his place. He's not even aware he's supposed to switch in.
This is the cause of the radio static in his mind, the vacant way he stands in the middle of the kitchen, like a video game avatar with no one holding the controller.
But faintly, Jeritza hears crying. A woman crying. It sounds like... It might be Nina. Slowly, he begins to move out of the dense fog he's in, toward the crying. He feels dread. Does he want to see this?
He becomes vaguely aware of a kitchen around him. The crying is coming from below. He looks down. As soon as he does, he is snapped into focus, violently jolted into his body with a small gasp.
Nina... Crying and crumpled in a pool of her own blood. He falls to his knees beside her.
"Nina?! Nina. What happened?!" A far cry from his usual monotone, his voice sounds conpletely horrified. His throat feels tight, his heart pounds fast in his chest. He puts a hand on her back and looks around for evidence of what's occurred. Blood, a chair, tools on the counter, a vial of liquid.
Torture.
He looks down at her again, afraid to touch her and hurt her more.
Nina's breath came hard, the air in her lungs like fire as panic set in. It was so easy to be prideful and arrogant in the face of a monster. But knowing Jeritza would not enjoy the sight of her broken body, would hate knowing how and why it happened, made her feel like she was the monster for what she was about to make him suffer through.
It was agony, hearing him shout like that - too used to the monotone. Maybe she should have been pleased he sounded like a person, for once, instead of some dead, emotionless machine, but the price wasn't worth it.
"No." She murmured, and it was stupid to even try and hide it. She had nowhere to go. She needed help, even if the help came at the hands of the man who had inflicted the wounds. Sort of. "Just call for help and go. You don't need to be here." She lifted her head so he could hear her speak, revealing the acid burning her hand, the blood on her lips and chin, and hints of the wounds on her chest. The broken arm was, well, fairly obvious and difficult to hide in any position, hanging lamely at her side against the tile. "I'm sorry."
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sforzinda
no subject
Date: 2024-06-22 10:35 pm (UTC)"Get on with it already."
cw violence
Date: 2024-06-23 11:31 pm (UTC)Without another word, he moves swiftly behind her chair, grabs her wrist, and bends her right arm in the wrong direction until it breaks. It's easy; he's strong and she's built like a toothpick. A sickening snap cracks through the air, and he grins.
no subject
Date: 2024-06-23 11:53 pm (UTC)Instead, she got this. A broken arm within seconds, the sharp pain as the bone snapped and her head spun. Death Knight almost earned himself the scream he probably wanted, but Nina bit her lip and stifled it, offering only a faint moan of pain.
no subject
Date: 2024-06-24 01:48 am (UTC)"Oh, dear. It won't be quite so easy to jerk off your little boyfriend now."
He circles back around to look at her face, drawing his dagger once again.
"You'll have to use that filthy mouth of yours."
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Date: 2024-06-24 01:54 am (UTC)She said she wouldn't put up a fight, and she wouldn't, but she would absolutely spit in his face in response - aimed right for his mouth, too, like she was trying to prove a point.
no subject
Date: 2024-06-24 02:11 am (UTC)A wave of rage compels him to force his thumb into her mouth and yank her jaw open. He grabs the tip of her tongue between finger and thumb, grip firm, and pulls it out of her mouth, holding his dagger against it. He growls, an edge of manic insanity in his tone.
"Perhaps I'll cut out your tongue, then, hm? You won't be able to yammer on like an imbecile, or suck his cock, or spit in my damn face."
no subject
Date: 2024-06-24 02:16 am (UTC)"Ca... can't scream - either." She struggled, the sound distorted and strange while he held her tongue. "Or beg-" both things she assumed he wanted at some point.
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Date: 2024-06-24 02:26 am (UTC)He yanks on her tongue hard, his blade pressing in harder, but not breaking skin quite yet.
"You can scream without a tongue. Your vocal chords will be in tact, you just won't be able to articulate all your awful thoughts for me to endure."
And begging tended to irritate him more than anything. He'd much rather see someone cry and tremble than whine at him to let up.
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Date: 2024-06-24 02:31 am (UTC)That was all assuming she got out of this alive. Nina was holding onto the vague hope that the Knight would be suitably satiated before it came to that.
"Ah-" a faint grunt of pain. Fuck. "Haven't even said shit to you-" if he even understood that one at all. In Nina's defense, she really could be a lot worse.
no subject
Date: 2024-06-24 03:31 am (UTC)"And you won't, if you want to keep this intact."
He pulls his dagger away, but as he does, swipes the blade along the surface of her tongue, leaving enough of a cut to bleed and hurt for a while, but not enough to cause any kind of major blood loss. He lets go of her tongue, but continues to hold her mouth slightly open with his thumb, watching the blood ooze between her teeth and onto her lips.
no subject
Date: 2024-06-24 03:43 am (UTC)Can't even talk. What bullshit.
Blood pooled in her mouth as her wounded tongue retracted, drooled down her chin and splattered on her chest. Nina glared at him with an unbridled hatred, almost impressed by how easily she could discern between him and Jeritza now. Amazing how his very existence could make him look so wretched.
no subject
Date: 2024-06-24 03:56 am (UTC)There is only rage in her eyes; if she feels fear, it must be all immediately converted to anger, the way all of his emotions are.
"You and I may not be as different as you think," he murmurs, more thoughtful than anything. With how much she hates him, that comment will probably worsen her rage, and he prepares to have blood spat at him. No matter- he's used to being covered in blood.
"Prideful. Rageful. Violent."
no subject
Date: 2024-06-24 04:02 am (UTC)The only reason he didn't get blood spit on him was thanks to the way he held her mouth open. Instead, she growled - the sound primal and rising from her chest, the fingers on her still useful hand twitching.
no subject
Date: 2024-06-24 04:48 am (UTC)"You look like you want to tear my head from my shoulders. Might I remind you that you are the one who came here to me. Not that I could fathom why. Give in to the pain. The more you fight it, the more I will have to do to you."
If she were to cry and grovel, it would be more satisfying. But the way things are going, he will have to do more extreme things to break her.
no subject
Date: 2024-06-24 12:59 pm (UTC)"You know exactly why I'm doing it." She said, spitting blood off to the side instead of directly into his face just to get it out of her mouth. "I'm not fighting you. Just do it." And, for whatever it was worth, there were tears already in the dips of her eyes, the ones she could not control as pain lanced through her with every move she made.
fight club
Date: 2024-06-24 03:19 pm (UTC)There are tears gathering. That is encouraging. More pain, then. He doesn't often torture without the intent to kill. It is a different way of thinking. Maximum pain without enough blood loss for death... He figures the most bang for his buck will be the vial of corrosive acid he has. He moves to the counter to open it, then back to her to grab her good wrist. He holds it tightly as he pours the acid on the back of her hand, which begins to burn it almost immediately. He watches as the skin turns red and the liquid begins to eat at her flesh.
stop talking about it
Date: 2024-06-24 03:36 pm (UTC)Speaking of evil pieces of shit - only someone that fucking evil would have a vial of acid on fucking tap. Nina watched him, eyes shifting from the vial to her hand, confused until it hit her skin. The pain was immediate and intense - more so than the broken bone because she knew what those felt like, knew what to expect. But this? Holy shit. "You fucking prick-!" she screeched, a volley of colorful words suddenly spouted in his direction, her head turned away so she didn't have to watch the acid eat away at her flesh, tears streaming down her cheeks despite every attempt to quell them.
o shit my bad
Date: 2024-06-24 04:01 pm (UTC)As she starts shouting and swearing, he begins to laugh, low and quiet in the back of his throat. Finally, a reaction. He grins as his eyes glance from her wet, bloody face to the festering wound forming on the back of her hand. A strange smell fills the air, one of the acid and the breaking-down flesh. He still holds her wrist tightly. He knows how to neutralize this acid, but he isn't going to, not unless he starts to see muscle and bone.
no subject
Date: 2024-06-24 04:11 pm (UTC)But that would hurt Jeritza, and she's doing it for him. For the sake of everyone else so the fucking lunatic doesn't kill someone. Nina breathes like she's run a marathon, sweat beading her brow and dripping down her face to meld with the tears that will not cease. Blood and sweat and tears all splattering onto her bloodied chest, right atop the print left by his hand.
no subject
Date: 2024-06-24 05:18 pm (UTC)He laughs softly again, though the sound is still awful and sinister.
"Much better."
She is beginning to give into the pain, beginning to break. He lets go of her hand; it will continue to burn no matter what she does with it. The only relief will come from neutralizing it with a basic solution. He then pulls out his dagger again and places a hand on her shoulder, leaning over it to look more closely. He sinks the sharp tip of his knife into her deltoid muscle and drags it down, then takes it out. Sinks it in again, draws a curved line that connects to the other. It's deep enough to hurt terribly, bleed profusely, and to scar.
It's a brand. A "D".
A point of pride. Physical proof of his domination over her, in his mind. Something that would surely piss her and Jeritza off to no end, that he'd laid claim to her body, that he is always here and they can't get rid of him. And fuck them for trying to. He has just as much a right to live in this body as Jeritza does, with all he did to protect their mother and sister, and protect themselves from any threat. He has a right to exist.
"You will never be rid of me, Nina. So long as you are near Jeritza, you will be near me, too. I cannot be permanently killed, and I am not going anywhere. So you best get used to this."
no subject
Date: 2024-06-24 05:27 pm (UTC)So bold of him to assume she wouldn't mutilate herself just to be rid of that brand - carve over it enough times to strike it out. She had scars enough already. What were a few more? But he had the satisfaction now. Had the satisfaction of making Nina Ironfist, the Ogreslayer, legend of Valsheria, weep and bleed and her only solace was in knowing it was only because she let him.
"And you - aha..." she gasped as pain surged through her, speech slurred with agony and blood loss. "You say I talk too much."
no subject
Date: 2024-06-24 06:06 pm (UTC)His whole body feels warm and wonderful. His... Dick is twitching. Waking up. He ignores it. Pushes any sexual thoughts away aggressively. But it's not even thoughts, it's an automatic response from his body. It begins to disturb him, irritate him. No. Not for this girl. Disgusting. Revolting.
"Well. I suppose it's time for your boyfriend to clean up my mess. He'll have such fun with that. Until next time."
With that, he begins to disassociate, his face and eyes going blank. It seems to take a long time, him just standing there, swaying slightly.
no subject
Date: 2024-06-24 06:28 pm (UTC)Nina stood from the chair, blood rushing, spilling onto the floor already soaked with it. She stumbled, still half sobbing as she tried to move away from him.
But she fell instead, slipped and toppled, twisting at the last second to brace herself on her unbroken arm, the feeling of her burned hand hitting the floor making her whimper. That was it. That is what truly broke her, her head bowed to rest against her forearm, the sizzling of her own skin right beside her ear, and she just... cried. Don't look at her. Please god don't look at her.
no subject
Date: 2024-06-24 07:38 pm (UTC)Jeritza has been buried deep in his inner world. Lost, frankly. He'd given up on trying to control his alter, given up on trying to manage his mental state or life. Without any chance at happiness or love, without Nina or anyone else to care for, what was the point? He no longer cared what happened to him.
He'd only become buried deeper as Death Knight tortured Nina and enjoyed himself too much to even think about giving up control of the body. So when he finally does disappear, Jeritza isn't right there to take his place. He's not even aware he's supposed to switch in.
This is the cause of the radio static in his mind, the vacant way he stands in the middle of the kitchen, like a video game avatar with no one holding the controller.
But faintly, Jeritza hears crying. A woman crying. It sounds like... It might be Nina. Slowly, he begins to move out of the dense fog he's in, toward the crying. He feels dread. Does he want to see this?
He becomes vaguely aware of a kitchen around him. The crying is coming from below. He looks down. As soon as he does, he is snapped into focus, violently jolted into his body with a small gasp.
Nina... Crying and crumpled in a pool of her own blood. He falls to his knees beside her.
"Nina?! Nina. What happened?!" A far cry from his usual monotone, his voice sounds conpletely horrified. His throat feels tight, his heart pounds fast in his chest. He puts a hand on her back and looks around for evidence of what's occurred. Blood, a chair, tools on the counter, a vial of liquid.
Torture.
He looks down at her again, afraid to touch her and hurt her more.
"Show me where you're hurt."
no subject
Date: 2024-06-24 07:49 pm (UTC)It was agony, hearing him shout like that - too used to the monotone. Maybe she should have been pleased he sounded like a person, for once, instead of some dead, emotionless machine, but the price wasn't worth it.
"No." She murmured, and it was stupid to even try and hide it. She had nowhere to go. She needed help, even if the help came at the hands of the man who had inflicted the wounds. Sort of. "Just call for help and go. You don't need to be here." She lifted her head so he could hear her speak, revealing the acid burning her hand, the blood on her lips and chin, and hints of the wounds on her chest. The broken arm was, well, fairly obvious and difficult to hide in any position, hanging lamely at her side against the tile. "I'm sorry."
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