Asmodaeus



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    Kon laughs, but it sounds like a sob. “Can you believe it? He programmed me to make me—make me his—”

    “Stop!” Tim’s voice cuts in, loud. The Red Robin voice. Kon knows it well, and he responds to it even better. He loves when Tim sounds like that, most of the time. He likes to make jokes about Tim using it on him in bed, but not like this.

    “‘M sorry,” Kon sobs. This is mortifying. This is a mistake. He thought he’d moved past this, thought he could handle how humiliating it is to admit that he is— “I’m a sex doll,” he cries, swiping at the tears on his face.

    Lex’s intentions for Kon had extended far beyond his use as a weapon.

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    19 Jun 2026

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    “Never?” Tim asks, regretting it the moment that Kon stills, the relaxed, peaceful look that had been on his face morphing into an intentionally casual confidence.

    “Never,” Kon confirms, raising an eyebrow in a way that looks like a challenge.

    Tim can’t help it, he stares at Kon in bewilderment.

    Kon has never touched himself. Never masturbated. Never—

    “So— You’ve—” Tim stumbles his way through words.

    “Take your time, Rob,” Kon drawls.

    First times and last loves.

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    19 Jun 2026