Work Text:
Lust, or lechery (Latin: luxuria (carnal)), is intense longing and can mean unbridled desire in general; like for money, power, and other things. (Wikipedia, Seven deadly sins)
There was an electrical humming in the air, machinery purring around him, lulling him as he slept on the cold hard steel of his cage. He was dreaming of feathers and soft fabric on his pale translucent skin, like what a tender caress would feel like. It was a comforting, pleasing, thought, a welcome numbness to his dark surroundings.
He liked those dreams. He felt good and nice and so... so warm... and safe in those imaginary touches.
He was vaguely aware of his thin parent in the room, the regular clicking of a keyboard occasionally disrupted by the soft sound of pencils on graph paper could be heard somewhere in front of him, past the rigid bars. He was almost lost to the world when he heard… it.
A small happy laugh, made of warmth and smiles, a bit high pitch too.
He opened his tired red eyes, searching for the incongruous little sound in the dark laboratory.
“Na dad, hihi, staaap”
There. Right there. Where there were usually only numbers and letters, there were moving pictures with sounds playing on the portable computer device.
« A movie » a baritone voice completed in the back of his mind.
He could see his parent's face all bluish by the brightness of the screen, eyes hidden by the small glasses on his long nose, smiling foundly, all soft and tender as he watched, mesmerized by what was playing.
“I’m gonna catch ya lil dumplin’ !” said the nasal voice of his parent to a small human looking a bit like him. More laughter could be heard and then, his parent took the small human and... snugged his noodly arms around him ?
It looked so so nice. He wondered how it felt?
“I… I really want to know” he thought to himself.
But, his parent wasn’t fond of him, he barely spoke to him and almost never touched him, especially in such a nice purposeful way.
A thought occurred, maybe if his form was more pleasing ? Maybe then his parent would desire touching him?
He concentrated on the moving picture, let his vocal cord transform to sounds just like the mini human, then the rest of his body, compacting his mass too, sculpting his features until he was satisfied in his imitation.
The doctor would be proud of his work, no doubt about it. He always told him how good he was when mimicking something with accuracy.
“Daddy ?” he tried.
His parent position stiffed, his breath stopping for an instant.
“Daddy, please can you touch me too?” he insisted.
His parent turned toward him oh so so slowly. Eyes big and wild. He was so surprised by how good he was, wasn’t he?
“Please daddy…” he continued.
There was a silence.
A moment.
A beat.
Then his parent screamed.
Fell to the ground, retreating toward the door while facing him.
“Silly daddy, that’s not the right direction” he tried again, uncertainty now tainting his voice. Wasn’t he being good?
His parent, stood at the door.
“No, wait! Daddy!”
The door was opened.
“Please dad! Please I want your arms too!”
He was alone in the room.
“Daddy!!” He screamed.
“Daddy!!! please touch me!”
“I need you! I need you to touch me” his voice started to hurt.
“I need you!” he yelled again.
The door slammed shut.