#((whelp!))

The memory of the garden is in the back of your mind, soft blue light and glowing, dangerous flowers. Julian’s smirk and smooth words, his open wound and the sinful sound that leaked from his lips the moment you pressed your fingers to it. It had sent a thrill through you and you did a lot of reflecting the following days—if reflecting meant fantasizing about taking that moment further, hurting him more, making him bleed so beautifully. It made you feel disgusting for wanting that. Yet..

Julian certainly didn’t mind. The way he sunk into your grip and the way your name tumbled from his parted lips, coated in desperation and something so obscene.

When Julian picks a fight with the wrong person and comes to you with a handful of stab wounds already healing over, you take him in your arms and comfort him, though you don’t miss the opportunity to scold him for his behavior. He wiggled in your grip, bashful and whining and without thinking, you pressed harshly on a fresh wound and you could practically see Julian’s brain malfunction. Slack jawed and eyes glazed, you had a lot of fun with him that night.

Perhaps this was something you’d be allowed to indulge in.

And so the wide tarp is laid on the hardwood floor and Julian is buzzing in his seat while you put a silencing spell over the shop. The pirate was rather noisy and what you had planned would have him screaming bloody murder.

With a long discussion and consideration, the scene was set and your lover picked out the tools with absolute delight. Never before had someone ever fully indulged his wicked desires like this. Always too squeamish or tapped out just before it got good, Julian was grateful he’d hit the jackpot with you.

Julian takes his place on the tarp, laying back flat on the ground, fully nude and as pale as a canvas waiting to be stroked red. You set up the tools with care, laying them within reach and relishing how jumpy Julian had gotten while he watched. “What’s your word?” You ask, soft and smooth as you place your warm hand over his chest, stroking languid and light. The doctor nearly purrs. “Plague.” He answers surely.

“If you have trouble, you know the colors?” You trace your fingertips over his jawline.

“I’m all set, dear.” Julian smiles, a light flush heating his face.

“Do your worst.”

The first slice of the blade is light and teasing, without breaking the skin as you trail it down from under his ribs to his patchy pubic hair. Julian bites back his complaints on your patience. The next slice parts his flesh smoothly and a low groan bubbles from his throat as smoothly as blood. The sigil on his throat glows bright and slowly, the incision closes over. Now, that just won’t do.

Julian nods eagerly when you poise the blade over his pinkend flesh. You slide deep and crimson copper floods to the surface, spilling over his depressed stomach and you can see the peeking red tissue under his skin.

The sound that escapes him is unholy, sinful and debauched and you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Deeper.” He croaks and your chest tightens, fingers wet with sticky red as you trade your knife for a scalpel and slice clean and deep into his abdominal muscle. Julian keens, gripping the tarp below tightly, knuckles white with the force. “Color?” You ask, ripping your gaze from the brilliant ruby red of his insides.

“Green!” He gasps, eyebrows furrowed and cock already achingly hard. The glowing sigil is fainter, decidingly waiting until the torture is complete to continue to heal.

The lean fat under the thick layers of flesh is a pretty yellow and at this point you’ve cut down to the line of tissue keeping his intestine inside his abdominal cavity. “D-do it, rip it out of me.” Julian’s breath runs ragged and when you lean down to kiss him hard, he doesn’t refuse. You smear his face crimson and the copper tang drips onto his tongue, lewd and taboo. You trace your fingers over the thick tissue and you can feel the moving intestine below. Julian moans loudly into the kiss, near screaming and he bites down on your bottom lip in reflex.

You punch your fingers into his gut and Julian sees stars, mouth falling open in a warbling screech. He babbles his pleas incoherently, in every language he knows and your name slips into each one, more frantic with each stroke of your fingers.

You slice along the side of the tissue and push it aside, exposing vulnerable organs. They’re browner and deeper in color and the squelch that sounds when you grip his small intestine is no less than disturbing. Julian bucks into your touch, back arching into a perfect curve. “Fuckfuck! Like that—tear me apart, please!”

As it turns out, the small intestine doesn’t live up to its name—it's rather long. Though it’s thinner than the large intestine and its main focus is to extract nutrients from the food that passes through; but currently, it serves a purpose never intended. You unravel it from inside and Julian eggs you on when you wrap the pulsing, slick tubing around his cock.

It squished under your fingers as you fist his cock with it, coating him in his own blood and mucus. Julian’s voice has gone hoarse from his screaming, rough and grating.

“Look at that—did you ever think you’d fuck yourself?” The words tumble from your lips before you can stop them and you move your hand faster, tighter and for extra measure, you spit into his half cored abdomen. Julian mewls lewd and wanton, rocking his hips into your hand, into himself. “Answer me, love. Answer or I’ll cut your tongue out.”

“Promise?” Julian croons, his hands grabbing at his wounds, toying with the slits in his skin.

The vision alone fills you with an unbearable heat and your head is dizzy as you dive down and capture his lips in yours again. His tongue licks into your mouth and you bite down, piercing and the redhead howls in delighted agony. His warning comes with a lisp and you wonder how it’d look to see your lover cover his vulnerables in his own semen so you grant him permission.

Julian cries into your mouth, hot tears sliding down his cheeks when he spills, burning and shaking and his body convulses. You only slow when he begs you to. “Color?”

“Y-yellow, let’s take a break.” He’s panting, sweat slick and covered with his own sticky blood. You watch as the mark on his neck glows and your fascination grows when his intestine wind back into him like coils of snakes and his skin stitches together. His skin is still tender and he pulls you into another kiss when his flesh smoothes over.

It’s softer this time and you swipe the blood off his cheekbone. “Was it ok?” You ask, pushing his hair from his face. Despite his exhaustion, Julian nods quickly. “Yes, but..whew, that took a lot out of me. I’d say I’m pretty satisfied.” He flashes you a grin all too familiar and the air clears with the fall of your spell. You nuzzle your nose against his and smile wide at his giggles.

“I had fun. Let’s get you taken care of now.” You press a kiss to his nose and use a bit of lightning magic to your advantage when it comes to carrying him to the bath.

“I love you.” Julian sighs soft against your chest, cradled in your arms despite his long limbs. A sweet buzz fills your chest and your head feels light.