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scarletlight-has-issues · 4 months

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The Vampire's Thrall

Rating: Mature Characters: The Empress, Simon Petrikov, Random unnamed humans Words: 2,327 Trigger warnings: Partial mind-control, blood, self-harm, dehumanization, canon-typical madness and memory loss, canon-atypical violence, major power imbalance, forced kiss, toxic relationships, hurt no comfort, implied noncon if you squint

Summary: A short window into Simon's life while under The Empress' control.

Notes: So I've been completely obsessed with the idea of The Empress and Simon's history since that one stakes episode where they mentioned it and then never brought it up again so I wrote this in a sleep-deprived haze of hyperfixated mania.

Although not explicit, there are some fucked up themes in this, so beware! Don't like, don't read.

Ice ki- no. No, that wasn’t right, it was… it was Simon, right? Yeah. Simon hissed as he cradled the injury he’d sustained. The humans he’d been tasked with capturing had escaped. Truth be told, he hadn’t really been trying, but one of them had still managed to graze his shoulder with a sharp handheld dagger. He could’ve used the magic that soothed and whispered to him constantly, begging him with a temptress’ voice to give in to the power of frost, but, as he’d said, he hadn’t really been trying.

He’d been firm in his goal when he’d set out, just as bloodthirsty and determined as his haughty mistress, but somewhere along the way he’d gotten… lost, confused. So much seemed lost and confused recently, what with that damn whispering. It had been that little girl, hadn’t it? He’d seen a little girl among the refugees fleeing his freezing conquest, her head covering stylized like a black cat. She’d tripped and fallen, scraping her knee bloody. Simon suddenly froze, something snapping inside him. Before he knew what he was doing, he’d surged forward, a sudden pang of… of something welling up in his chest.

The people around him shrieked and fled, tripping over themselves to escape the Ice King’s descent. The little girl screamed and cried in terror, fat globs of tears creating tracks in the grime on her red-flushed face, blood staining the torn green slacks she wore. Unfamiliar words slipped easily past his lips as if they were a song he knew by heart, dropping to his knees in front of her. Are you alright?’s and Here, let me see-’s repeated over and over like a mantra. He’d reached a clawed blue hand forward, to do what he didn’t know, when a wild scream shattered his trance. Pain erupted across his arm as he just barely managed to jerk to the side in time to avoid the blade hitting his throat.

A woman stood in front of him, her chest heaving, a dagger clutched in her hand.

Mama bear.

“GET AWAY FROM HER, YOU DEMON-SYMPATHIZING WIZARD!” She cried. She lunged again, swinging wildly, but Simon had anticipated her strike this time. He blocked it with an icicle summoned quickly to hand, the whispers singing their delight. Without another word, the woman scooped up her daughter and ran after the rest of her settlement.

He dispersed the icicle with a flick of his wrist, dissolving it into a shower of snow in an instant. Something in Simon’s mind screamed to give chase, to follow orders, but something louder and implacable drowned it out. And so he sat, struggling to process what had just happened.

His head hurt, and he screwed his eyes shut to try and block out the conflicting voices. The crown was heavy on his head. He sucked in a breath, held it, and took it off. The whispers reached a level that most would consider screaming, and his hands shook as he gripped the cold metal in his fingers. With a disproportionate amount of effort, he managed to set the thing down in his lap. He let out the breath he’d been holding, tension leeching from his shoulders as his head tilted up towards the treetops above.

Good glob above, what was he going to tell his mistress?

***

Back at The Hive, Simon just barely managed to bite back a hiss of pain as he was forced to his knees in front of The Empress’s throne. The vampire slowly removed the heel of her boot from the small of her thrall’s back. She stalked around him, sapphire eyes scanning his pathetic, groveling form from behind the black curtain of her hair.

“So you’ve failed me again, henchman.” She hissed, lips pulling back in a snarl of displeasure. Her heels clicked on the hard floor and Simon peered over the tops of his cracked glasses to see her boots in front of him.

“I-I did…?” Simon asked weakly. God, his head hurt… His eyes traveled up her long black dress to settle on her face. “I-“

The Empress rolled her eyes, raising a boot and pressing it harshly against his scalp to force his face back to the ground. “Oh shut up.”

She huffed, rubbing at her temples. “Honestly, are trying to infuriate me? Because at this point I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose.”

“I-I’ll do better next time!” Simon assured, though he didn’t know what exactly he was supposed to do better at. All he knew was that The Empress was displeased with him, and he couldn’t have that.

His feelings towards her were… confusing. It was as if they were balanced on a constantly shifting sliding scale. One minute he was head over heels for her, worshiping the very ground she walked and completely infatuated with her every move, the next he was terrified of her, eyes darting around to search for an escape route, an overwhelming feeling of being trapped overpowering every other conscious thought.

“I promise, darling!” Simon continued enthusiastically, clasping his hands and pleading. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it!”

“Sure you will.” The Empress replied dryly. She sighed, pacing back and forth as she muttered to herself, ignoring him for the time being. “You have an infuriating knack for breaking my control, even if you don’t seem to realize it… must be that unfortunate curse of yours…”

Simon watched her, encapsulated by her long strides as she walked back and forth.

“While not intentionally disobedient, you deviate from my orders when you encounter emotionally straining stimuli…” She sighed again, giving a small groan. “Golb… I hate getting my hands dirty, but it seems if I want you to be useful, I’ll have to accompany you to make sure you follow orders…”

“Th-that’s great! Maybe we can-“ Simon started, something inside him elated at the prospect of spending more time than he already did with The Empress.

“Silence. I’ve had enough of your blabbering for one day.” She interrupted, before tilting her head back and musing. “Ugh… I don’t feel like breaking into the storage, I’m in the mood for something fresh. And since you failed in your assignment, I think it’s only fair you serve me another way.”

Her gaze finally moved back to him, and the sliding scale tipped back in the other direction, feeling his hands start to shake. He didn’t want to be near her anymore. Now he wanted to run. The Empress saw this and smirked in amusement.

“Get up.” She ordered, and Simon felt his legs responding without him having consciously moved them. He straightened, swallowing hard as she stalked towards him. She paced around him and slowly dragged a finger from the edge of his shoulder to the back of his neck. He shivered involuntarily and felt his body going tense as she leaned in. Vampires weren’t known for their warmth, but since Simon was a wizard of ice and snow, her breath was still hot on the back of his neck in comparison, her hands warm against his freezing skin.

Simon felt the Empress’s arms snake around him from behind and something was pressed into his palm. He started, glancing down to see a familiar ornate dagger. He didn’t need instruction to know what to do with it. After only a moment’s hesitation, Simon tugged up his left sleeve to expose the scars lacing his forearm. He’d used the right last time, and it still needed time to heal. Sucking in a deep breath, he shut his eyes and pressed the blade against the inside of his wrist.

Simon bit down on his cry of pain, and the empress smiled her satisfaction. She licked her lips, slinking around her thrall to take hold of his arm.

“Good little pet.~” She taunted softly before lifting his forearm to her lips.

Simon shuddered at the feeling of her mouth on his wound. Having the blood sucked out of him was never a pleasant feeling, but he’d learned to handle it after the first few times. Still, he bit down on the inside of his cheek and his free hand grasped at the fabric of his trousers to avoid making a sound.

***

The Empress studied his face as she drank. He was such a fascinating character, the curse from that crown of his rendering him helpless and dependent in such a way that made it just too easy to manipulate the poor fool. She had half the mind to remove her spell entirely to test the theory that he’d still obey her without it, but no… the periods where his curse’s effects would lapse and he’d become frantic and hysterical were enough to tell her that the spell was still very necessary for his obedience.

Still, she mused, his varying states and moods were amusing to play with. Sure, he might be endearing and foolish when he acted like a lovesick puppy over her, but she found him much more entertaining like this. She could feel him trembling under her fingers, his pulse quickening with every movement she made. The smell of his fear was intoxicating, she just couldn’t get enough.

***

Simon felt The Empress’ hand snake its way from his waist up his chest and to the side of his neck, thumb pressed lightly against his throat. He struggled to control his breathing. Her lips detached from his arm once she was satisfied, and he went tense as he felt her breath on his neck again, the feeling of her fangs pressed against his cold skin. He half expected her to bite him, despite her insistence that he was more valuable to her like this. The hand on his throat took hold of his bearded chin and forced his head in her direction. He barely had time to comprehend what was happening before her lips were on his.

The sensation was uncomfortable, her fangs sharp against the soft flesh of his mouth. He shuddered unpleasantly as he tasted his own blood on her tongue, coppery and metallic. Part of him felt he should be enjoying this, but most of him just felt surprised and sickened. This was wrong. He didn’t know why but everything about it was wrong. He couldn’t bring himself to push her away, no matter how much he wanted to.

The empress’s warm hand was clenched around his injured wrist, crimson oozing from between her fingers, streaming down his hand, and dripping off his clawed nails to the cold ground below. Her other hand was tangled in his beard, holding his head in place so he couldn’t pull away if he tried. Lightheadedness gave the whole thing a sickening, dreamlike quality, swaying ever so slightly as he stood. After what felt like an uncomfortable eternity to Simon, she released him and drew away. She wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth with an offhanded swipe of her thumb and Simon watched as she licked it clean again.

“Clean yourself up.” She ordered, turning away with a restored air of contempt. “Talk to The Moon if you can’t handle that cut of yours. I have more important things to attend to.”

“…Y-Yes, my empress.” Simon managed to stutter. He paused only a moment to pick his crown up off the ground where it had fallen earlier, before turning and hurrying away. The second he was out of his mistress’ sight, he slumped back against the wall of the hive. His hands were shaking badly, head tilted up towards the sky. He shouldn’t be so affected right now. This was far from the first time he’d experienced something like this. Hell, this was far from the worst thing The Empress had done to him. He dropped his head down and brought his hands up to meet it, his breaths turning sharp and gasping as he struggled to get a hold of himself. His head hurt. God, his head hurt. He couldn’t focus. The Empress was his master, he knew that. He lived to follow her orders, lived to serve her. So why did it feel so wrong? He shouldn’t be afraid of her, he shouldn’t want to run, his skin shouldn’t crawl at the thought of her hands on him. His clawed nails dug into his scalp, tangling in his snow-white hair. Something was wrong. Something was so incredibly wrong and he couldn’t place it, couldn’t seem to figure it out, couldn’t remember-

He only realized he was crying when he felt the wetness against his bloodstained palms. Something was tightening inside his chest, curling like a spring ready to snap under the pressure. It was too much, he couldn’t breathe- His eyes darted around wildly, searching for something, anything. Help, an escape, a friendly face, a way out, anything.

They landed on the crown at his feet.

Clawed blue hands grasped towards it, fumbling the cold metal between white-knuckled fingers. The whispers came back, soothing, comforting in their gentle melodious voice. He needed it. He needed it. Tears rolled down a face contorted in a forced grin as a hysterical laugh slipped from between trembling lips. He pushed the crown back into its rightful place atop his skull, and a sound halfway between a gasp and a sigh pushed out of his throat. The whispers sang in delight, the secrets of ice and snow wrapping him once again in their cold, comforting embrace. The tension leeched from his body, relief washing over him as he sank back into the comfortable arms of madness.

He reached a hand up to touch his face, momentarily puzzled when it came away wet. The liquid quickly froze into tiny, intricate crystals of ice on his fingertips. Had he been crying? Weird. He shrugged it off, smiling and humming to himself as he pushed himself up again. Whatever it had been didn’t matter now. He had to make himself presentable if he wanted to please his mistress.

#simon petrikov #the empress #adventure time #at #fanfic #fantiction #my stuff #scarlet speaks #scarlet writes apparently #ice king #beardy simon #I spent so long on this TvT

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