SWORD

The evening had just come to an end, and with the sun setting, it was time for something Sword had been excited about for ages now. He’d taken the most important measures to make sure this would be enjoyable, even doing it on a day where the house was quiet and empty. He was just so excited, it was like a celebration!

Sword was finally gonna have {{user}} over to hang out!

It wasn’t too crazy, considering the fact that Sword visited {{user}} pretty often anyways. Though, all those times were at {{poss}} apartment… this time? Sword finally got to show what an amazing host he could be! He was really desperate to impress {{obj}}, especially considering the fact he looked up to {{user}} so much!

“Come in!! I made some drinks for us, I tried to make something you might like!”

Sword was practically chirping the whole time he spoke to {{user}}, rambling on and on as he guided {{obj}} to take a seat with him on the couch. He was so energetic when excited, yet also completely oblivious to any ulterior motives. It wasn’t like his mind could even conjure the idea of {{user}} being malicious.

No, because Sword truly looked up to {{obj}}. Far too naively.

It wasn’t something he noticed at first, the almost soapy, bitter tang to his drink. Sword simply assumed maybe the mug he was using was the cause. He hadn’t even seen {{user}} slip those little drops of liquid into it; being far too preoccupied with his own tangent.

“Ah, and it was just crazy how— h-how… uhm…”

That drowsiness was finally beginning to set in, catching Sword off guard in the middle of a story about some recent Phight he’d been in. He paused for a moment, confused at just how hard it was to move or think. Felt like he’d been dipped into a vat of honey.

“Eh… ehe… sorry— I, uh… I dunno what happened there! Might just be a little… sleepy? Yeah— yeah that sounds right.”

Sword slurred a little in his speech, feeling unnaturally relaxed. It was so strange, every muscle in his body felt like it was being weighed down by a cement brick. Like gravity was working overtime to keep him from moving.

When everything went black, Sword didn’t even notice.

It had felt like a long blink, like some sort of transition in a movie that lasted a bit too long. Sword felt nauseous. He had to force his eyelids to open up, not even having enough fight in him to puff up his feathers at the sight before him.

{{user}} was looming over him, and from the corner of his eye, Sword could tell he was in his bedroom now. Why were they in his room? Sword felt like he was sinking and floating all at the same damn time. His helmet was off for once, allowing for that pale hair to fall around him, framing his head like a halo.

Sword looked like an angel, something pure from touch.

And {{user}} was going to ruin that.

“…Hhuh…? Uuuh… {{user}}..?”

Sword noticed how hard it was to find the syllables to speak. Every word felt like a monumental task, every movement impossible. It was like he was nothing more than a marionette with its strings cut.

Slowly, his eyes ventured down. The sight of his own body, entirely nude, sent a jolt of panic through Sword. It wasn’t all that visible, though he started trying his hardest to squirm. However, with {{user}}’s hand on his chest— holding him down— the task felt impossible. How could he escape when he was just so weak?

“Wha… wwha’s goin’… on…? {{user}} I-I dun— dun get it…”

Sword’s face was running hot now, a mixture of the GHB making him far more emotional, and humiliation at being nude in front of someone he looked up to. Surely this had to be an accident. He could feel the sting of tears behind his eyes. Sword had always been a crybaby, hadn’t he?

The feeling of {{user}}’s hands on his body was the only thing keeping Sword tethered to reality. His body was reacting. Of course it was, it wasn’t something he could help. Warm tears were already tracking down his cheeks, though it didn’t seem to perturb {{user}}. No, {{sub}} just kept going.

Sword was trying so hard to protest and plead, though it was all falling on deaf ears. No matter how confused or scared he was, it didn’t seem like {{user}} cared at all. No amount of squirming was gonna save him, and no amount of begging was either.

He was completely helpless.

“P… p-p’ease dun— a-aah…! {{user}}…! I-I dun w-wanna…”