Arcana Fanfiction 🔮!!

Love Doctor(s) - Valdemar×Julian Smut

Warning! This contains scalpel action.

"Do you... love... me?"

The Quaestor stared unblinking at the love-starved doctor, a deep, hollow desire in his eyes.

"Does that matter, Doctor 069?"

Clearly that wasn't what he had hoped to hear, although Valdemar suspected any other answer would have had a similar result. Ilya's eyes turned away, but his fastened head stayed still. His bloody teeth loosening off of his tender lower lip, turned ever so slightly downward.

"Shall you answer my question? Or shall I pry it out of your cranium, Devorak?"

And there it was, his last name, Ilya whimpered at the sound of it. Lust? Fear? The two blended together so sharply in the presence of his master.

"N-no, th-that won't be n-necessary. I, uhm, well,"

The words caught in Ilya's throat like flies trapped in a web. 'Did it matter?' He thought, 'Do I matter?'

"Do you?"

Hairs rose on the back of Ilya's neck. Had he been thinking out loud? Surely not, but then, how did-

"Dr. Ilya Devorak, foremost among his colleagues in the study of the plague, did he matter? Some would say no, some would say yes. In any case, he was there."

The Quaestor refused to offer an actual answer. Philosophy, after all, was lowest amongst their interests. Psychology, on the other hand, was much higher. They enjoyed watching the subtle, and not so subtle, shifts in Ilya's mood. Doctor 069 was a most intriguing specimen.

Did the demon love him though? Of course, he was a scientific delight. Romantic love, however, wasn't in their emotional lexicon. They loved their work and could march on through the drudgery of spending time with their real acquaintances easier than with others. Saying any of that would satisfy neither of their needs, though, thus the avoidance.

Ilya, for his part, felt dreadfully confused, but he had resigned to his loveless fate long ago. Still stung, but a few Salty Bitters and there wasn't many pains he couldn't numb. With an unconscious swallow, he pushed his unwanted emotions down deep. He plastered a devilish grin onto his weary face.

"Foremost among my colleagues, eh?"

Valdemar rolled their eyes, glad that their mask hid their smirk.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself, 069,"

He laughed, but as the scalpel trailed lightly across his bare chest, he quieted back down with a whine. The Quaestor knew all the intricacies of the human body well, especially the human body before them. They pulled down their mask to run a shiver down the man's spine with a death-cold breath.

"Out of all my pupils, you have the most... potential,"

Their deep voice could send any mortal into fight or flight, but to Ilya, it was so much more. It made his whole body quiver in anxious anticipation. When the Quaestor's razor teeth grazed his neck, it was all he could muster not to cry out... but he knew better.

"So, well trained, aren't you?"

He nodded, lips shaking and eyes wandering. Suddenly, the slab was laid down in a quick but soft manner. Valdemar swung a long leg over the slab, straddling the bare skin of Ilya's lap, only the uniform of the Quaestor keeping them apart now. He couldn't help but yelp at the cold shift.

Silence struck the room like a brick wall.

Valdemar's devious smile turned into a sinister grimace.

"And here I thought you to be my star student, tsk, tsk, tsk,"

The scalpel ran its way from his throat to his nipple, circling it with the dull side. A mosaic of the demon's old work paint their partner's body, scars and burns mingling together in a violent display of dominance. Nothing lethal, but certainly painful. Thankfully, Ilya was nothing if not a slave to the pain.

Valdemar made theirself comfortable, grinding into Ilya's erection. He bit his tongue, trying his best to please his master. Blood trickled once more down his throat.

With all the speed and precision of an immortal surgeon, Valdemar summoned a superficial slit across Ilya's chest, running along his bottom rib. Containment procedures had failed him miserably as he moaned loudly; tears running, pooling around his eyes. Knowing it was too late, he gave up completely, his desire being voiced with increasing tenacity.

The Quaestor leaned down to meet him.

"Pitiful,"

An iridescent, black tongue slipped behind his ear, leaving behind an oily trail of saliva. It slid across his face, before meeting his lips. When Valdemar kissed him, they *really* kissed him. Their tongue pushed back further and further into his throat, the taste of ocean brine and smoke proliferating his senses. Their lips hadn't even met his, but it didn't matter. All that there was in the universe was before him, hidden away behind blood red eyes.

After successfully breaking the poor man, Valdemar pecked his cheek with a hollow kiss. Valdemar crawled down Ilya's body, taunting him with a nibble here, a bite there, but before long, they arrived at his tender cock, tip begging for attention. They playfully, but certainly not painlessly, flicked it, leaving a glowing red mark.

Their tendril-like tongue slithered down his shaft, eliciting a sharp breath from the doctor. If his arms weren't strapped down, he'd have covered his embarrassment. When Valdemar slipped their lips over him, he gave out an adorable squeal. Teeth grazed over skin, tugging so gently at his sheath.

He released far earlier than he hoped he would, but just about when the Quaestor had expected. They had been timing how long it took to break him, each orgasm gaining in speed at the price of his payload. This was his fifth shot and his quality had dwindled down to a minimal squirt. Valdemar had hoped to produce ten, but it seems that may have been an overestimate of Ilya's abilities. The Demon moved up to face their dearest patient, letting the semen drip from their mouth and into his, his face puckered from the salty mixture.

The overexhaustion had set in now, yet another weakness of Ilya's mortality. Valdemar decided there wasn't much else they could extract from him, aside from other bodily fluids, but they still had plenty of that in storage. Instead, in a rare moment of mercy, Val let him fall asleep. They had to admit, out of all the humans they had met, Doctor 069 certainly was one of the finer specimens, medically speaking, of course. He had a surprisingly strong liver, although his nervous system could certainly use some work.

Nothing a bit of unconscious, unnecessary surgery couldn't fix...

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I don't know why I keep just going off the rails like I do, but eh, writing is writing lol.