phenix-is-rp-trash

[phenix-is-rp-trash]

Anyone else would have been at the very least severely rattled, if not outright scared shitless by the state of the house Mal was guided into (Lucy herself aside); however, he simply raised an interested eyebrow.

That was definitely a lot of blood. A lot of blood.

He could dig it.

Mal nodded along with Lucy as she chattered, shaking his head sadly. "Such a shame. Good manners are so hard to come by these days." There was another scent in the air aside from blood (old and congealed, more fresh and slick), and it was that scent that caused his irregular heartbeat to quicken, his pupils narrowing into thin slits. He followed Lucy into the ruined kitchen, pausing at the sight of what had caught his rapt attention, threatening to override his sauve persona: a person strapped to a chair. Their body was a network of weeping lacerations and cuts, and the fear and pain and misery, sheer sweet misery simply poured off of them in waves.

Mal took a deep breath, steadying himself, and dug his fingernails into his palms. Lucy turned to stare at him intently, and after a couple of seconds he was composed enough to respond. "My apologies; that was rude of me. Malice, at your service." He ducked his head in a deferential manner, allowing his curled horns to breach his flesh and poke through his pale hair, flashing a smile marked by asymmetrical jagged teeth. "Do you wanna guess what I am, darlin'? We can make a game of it. Everytime you're wrong, your guest over there loses something else that's not gonna grow back." He looked over at her terror-stricken victim, eyes beginning to glow. "Whaddya say, sweet Lucy? Playtime's always better with a friend."

Bound in Blood

[phenix-is-rp-trash]

Does being a bloodthirsty sex demon with a split personality actually count as being yandere though 🤔🤔🤔

[phenix-is-rp-trash]

[phenix-is-rp-trash]

https://www.instagram.com/p/BqBi2s2gEeX

[phenix-is-rp-trash]

bury a friend // Billie Eilish

[phenix-is-rp-trash]

Pandemonium squealed with delight into the kiss, reveling at both the points of discomfort and the sounds of her namesake beginning to kick up around them. The pacifist parasite was dormant now, incapable of protesting or attempting to suppress anything she did, and that alone was enough to leave her reeling with glee, with the prospect of her first good meal in ages and Belial's attention to sweeten the deal further.

Her eyes glittered with unfettered excitement and anticipation, watching as her new friend seized hold of the same bartender that had greeted her upon arrival, dragging the poor sap over the bar amidst the sound of shattering glass while other screams rang out from the dancefloor. Pandemonium's grin widened into a malevolent leer of unnatural proportions, taking in the sight of people shoving each other aside, trampling others in their mad dash to escape the monsters at the bar, the sparks showering from ruined electrical equipment, the flames that had begun to lick at the columns of the room. Pathetic creatures; the moment their own lives were threatened the last thing they were concerned with was each other.

It was glorious.

This was the kind of chaos she lived for, was named for, and as her gaze met Belial's again (he'd shed his own glamour, which was a pleasant surprise - he was even cuter with that human shit tossed aside) she felt an additional surge of warmth. Her tail rose to rub its heart-shaped barb along the bartender's cheek. "Well of course, cutie. If I wasn't so hungry I'd skip dinner and get right down to dessert." She licked her lips suggestively. "Spill some blood for me, love. Helps me get in the mood, you know?"

-Ravishing. Panne had unmasked herself, her inner coil now free. Belial was riveted, and that kiss… that kiss from such a succubus had him wrapping one arm around her, threading fingers through her hair and pulling, teeth and tongues colliding in front of the bar. A few screams emitted from the crowd, but it was taken as surprise, meaning the patrons never left. Even better.-

Everything, love? Then allow me to oblige you.

-With a mere inch between them, Belial grabbed the person closest to them, not even making eye contact as the person thrashed in his wrought-iron grip. Demands of being released were shouted, but he never paid any mind. In fact, he never broke eye contact with Panne.-

Does this one suit your needs, darling? Or are you feeling a bit more… adventurous?

-By sheer force of will, his smile was manic, malevolent. Lights and sounds in the entire building glitched and short-circuited, but with the amount of drunken patrons, only a few more took notice. Sparks began to emit from the speakers, then flames. Ahh, there was the reaction he was looking for. The sprinklers didn’t turn on, and the doors were now locked. No one would enter or leave until they were finished.-

Choose, my dear. Any or all, but I will have you as well. You are far too enticing to ignore. Sate yourself, love. Dinner and dessert, as it were. You can be the deciding factor on what counts as an afterglow.

-He watched her with rapt fascination. Would Panne go for the one still struggling in his grip? How he ached to rip the person’s throat out with his bare hands. His horns were protruding, as were his claws, his teeth becoming serrated and jagged.-

Come now, Pandemonium, show me that passion you’ve kept at bay for this unbearably long amount of time.

[phenix-is-rp-trash]

Even with that stutter and the oh so obvious anxiety, this kid was attempting to assert themselves. Cute. Foolish, although they couldn't have known how much.

Of additional interest was the fact that there was a slight whiff of something very intriguing in the nervous air rolling off of them in waves, something Mal couldn't quite identify yet.

Yet.

He directed his full attention to the graveyard attendant now, red eyes - fuck hiding them, or anything else, really - focused directly on them, and smirked. The place was pretty deserted by now anyway. "I suppose that's a good enough reason, although you must know that simply closing a gate isn't nearly enough to keep the devil at bay. Say, what's your name, sweetheart?"

Um,, e-excuse me s-sir. The cemetery is c-closing soon. 🌿

The cemetery was one of Mal’s favorite places.

He’d overheard other people wax poetic about soaking up rays while laid out on the beach, but when it came to what got him going the only place better than a fucking graveyard full of mourning relatives and loved ones was probably chilling in the waiting room of a hospital, particularly the emergency room.

One of these things was considerably less conspicuous than the other.

This cemetery was smaller than some of the others he’d paid a visit to, but there were still a substantial amount of mourners throughout the day, more than enough to allow him to steadily bask in the ambient feelings of sorrow, loss, pain, fear… all the essential facets of death.

He leaned against a tombstone, staring up at the sky with a satisfied smirk on his face; ordinarily he’d have attempted to blend in more, but fuck it.

A soft voice marked with a stutter sounded from behind him, and Mal glanced over his shoulder at its owner; a wiry cutie with mousy brown hair that he didn’t quite tower over. Mal flashed them a faint smile, raising a pale eyebrow. “Closing time, for a cemetery? Quite the interesting concept considering its inhabitants are already at rest.”

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Panne awakened with a start, nearly tumbling off of the soft material she was lying on. Given the circumstances she’d been in just before losing consciousness, the panic was justified.

She sat up, wincing at the pounding headache that seemed to intensify after opening her eyes to daylight and the full-body soreness that she quickly became aware of. “Where...” Her red eyes scanned her surroundings; she was in a bed, a soft, cozy one. The room around her was neatly kept yet unfamiliar (then again, it wasn't as she really had a home to return to, in that sense, so everything was unfamiliar). She wasn't chained or anything, that was reassuring, and whoever had brought her here had seemingly tended to her wounds to some extent.

She considered putting her glamour back up, but then again considering she'd definitely had it all hanging out when she'd passed out (horns, wings, tail, the works) it might be jarring for whoever's house this was to find her missing those attributes. In any other circumstances, she would have attempted to just slip out of the window for fear of coming face to face with another human with bad intentions, but she was too weak to even consider it - and, whether it ended in her needing to run or not, she did owe whoever had found her a thank you for not just leaving her out there in the woods.

Gritting her teeth against the pain that ensued, Panne slipped out of bed, bare feet landing on a soft rug covering a hardwood floor, then made her way over to the door. After crossing the threshold, she found a stairwell leading to a lower floor and began to head down it, bracing herself to avoid toppling down the stairs altogether. "Hello?" She called out ahead of her, hesitantly.

(Starter for Wyetta / @wandering-mist from Pandemonium)

She’d done it again.

Panne’s heart was beating out of control, her chest heaving as she ran; it would have been much simpler and quicker to just planewalk or cloak herself until the danger had passed, but she’d used up enough energy fighting her way out of the city alone - far more than she’d actually managed to acquire.

She could hear the pounding of hooves along the road, voices calling out threats and insults to her kind into the cool night air; the road was too exposed but the brush along the side of it was no easy going, and more than once she lost her balance, further tearing her clothing. She was *exhausted*, but the ache in her sides was better than the alternative.

She’d seen what others had done to demons too weakened to defend themselves upon apprehending them, and she had no intention of suffering the same fate.

The treeline of what looked to be a thick stand of woods loomed ahead, and Panne put on an extra burst of speed, brambles slicing at her skin as she barreled past them and into the cover of the woods. Behind her, the sounds of the few approaching townspeople that were still on her trail died out, amidst audible expressions of dismay, but Panne kept running, occasionally flapping her wings for the speed boost. With the circumstances leading her to be fleeing now she didn’t expect them to give up so easily.

It wasn’t until the only sounds that remained were the soft, ambient sounds of forest creatures that she slowed, stumbling yet again - and this time finding herself unable to drag herself to her feet once more. Every breath she took was another pang in her chest; it occurred to her that she’d sustained some additional injuries, as well - various cuts and lacerations from projectiles, a couple of clear burn marks from a more magically-based offensive. Panne lowered her head onto the soft grass beneath her, too tired to tuck her wings or tail or even the curled horns poking through her hair out of sight. The world around her was rapidly growing dimmer as the exhaustion and effort caught up with her, and the last thought that crossed her mind before they ceased altogether for some time was that of the impending guilt setting in.

She’d never intended to hurt anyone.

With a final sigh of resignation, Panne’s eyes slipped shut, and she knew no more.

[phenix-is-rp-trash]

Mal was intrigued.

Very much intrigued.

Topside of home, he encountered other entities that were either distinctly not human or vaguely less than such on a regular basis; vampires, faeries, Shifters, any number of other beings carving out their own space in the world, whatever that entailed. He was younger than his sisters by a couple of thousand years, but he'd been around long enough to be able to identify energy signatures for what they were.

...this was different.

He'd picked up the scent (of sorts) in passing, and followed it to a house that was sort of a fixer-upper; whatever it was, it appeared to be coming from in *there*. Anyone else would have been apprehensive about entering a potentially haunted house containing a potentially malevolent supernatural being without their permission, but Mal was there for a good time and sating his curiosity (even if it resulted in a fight) was definitely his idea of a good time.

He was approaching the door when it opened before him, revealing... a girl.

...maybe.

A girl?

She looked for all of the world like a broken ceramic doll that had been haphazardly glued back together with an amateur hand, red eyes staring back at him above a cheerful, luminous smile.

Mal raised an eyebrow. *Interesting.*

He flicked on his charm, flashing her a grin as he moved forward to take hold of her cold hand before leaning to press a gentle kiss to her fingers. "Well then, it's nice to meet you, Miss Lucy, and I must say you are an absolute *vision*. Thank you for your kind offer," he said with a wink, then moved to enter the house. Sure, a fight was always fun, but he wasn't about to disregard such an enthusiastic invitation.

Bound in Blood

What’s this? A visitor? Now who could be here at this- oh. Well, hello mister. 

-Lucy shambled to the window on the second floor of her house, her ‘dollhouse’, as she liked to put it. She sensed the presence of someone, or was it something? Never you mind that for now, dear. Right! Right! But my, he is rather adorable, isn’t he? Cocoa skin, white hair, and eyes that were the same color as hers! Pretty! Pretty red!-

-Her cracked skin, plastic and ceramic rather, ground against each other, leaving dust to filter through the air. Pushing the curtain aside, Lucy’s head tilted in curious fascination at the creature below. Yes, creature. A screaming meanie is what he is! But he’s so… so cute! She wanted to play, almost desperately, wanting to shriek with outright joy at the prospect of a new friend.-

Ahh, gracious. Where are my manners? I should be presentable! Yes! Presentable for my new friend, the not human screaming meanie! I wanna play!

-Moving in her haphazard, unsettling way, Lucy rummaged around, finding her nice blue dolly dress and brushed her pretty black hair until it shined, fixing it up in a ponytail high at the back of her head. Time to say hello!-

-In just the same way she’d moved anywhere else, Lucy was downstairs in a flash, ignoring the blood spatter on the walls as if it were only decoration, not the macabre workings of her trying to become human. Again, she told herself. To be human again. With an exasperated sigh and a shake of her head, she opened the door, smiling that cracked, dolly smile at the newcomer.-

Golly jeepers, mister! You’re really swell, and a cutie to boot! You wouldn’t mind being my friend, would ya? Whaddya say? I’m Lucy. Lucy Alcott. Come in! Come in! Don’t stand there like a bump on a log!

@phenix-is-rp-trash

[phenix-is-rp-trash]

Um,, e-excuse me s-sir. The cemetery is c-closing soon. 🌿

The cemetery was one of Mal’s favorite places.

He’d overheard other people wax poetic about soaking up rays while laid out on the beach, but when it came to what got him going the only place better than a fucking graveyard full of mourning relatives and loved ones was probably chilling in the waiting room of a hospital, particularly the emergency room.

One of these things was considerably less conspicuous than the other.

This cemetery was smaller than some of the others he’d paid a visit to, but there were still a substantial amount of mourners throughout the day, more than enough to allow him to steadily bask in the ambient feelings of sorrow, loss, pain, fear… all the essential facets of death.

He leaned against a tombstone, staring up at the sky with a satisfied smirk on his face; ordinarily he’d have attempted to blend in more, but fuck it.

A soft voice marked with a stutter sounded from behind him, and Mal glanced over his shoulder at its owner; a wiry cutie with mousy brown hair that he didn’t quite tower over. Mal flashed them a faint smile, raising a pale eyebrow. “Closing time, for a cemetery? Quite the interesting concept considering its inhabitants are already at rest.”

[phenix-is-rp-trash]

[phenix-is-rp-trash]

『 ᴋ/ᴅᴀ ┇ ᴇᴠᴇʟʏɴɴ 』

【 ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀʀᴛ 】

〚 ɪ’ᴍ ᴀ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ 〛

⇣ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛꜱ ⇣

[phenix-is-rp-trash]

drabble: blooming

Gift drabble for @velasdiscourse with Willow ( @wanderingenchantment ) and anti-Tama (@such-big-teeth ). Je t'aime toujours! ❤

🌱

Willow surveyed the vegetable pots with dismay clearly displayed on her face; the poor things didn't stand a chance under her decidedly not very green thumb.

Although life with the twins that were the exact opposites of the Tama and Rowan she'd known prior to that fateful day in the park had settled into bearable, if not outright comfortable cohabitation, technically she was still Rowan's assistant and expected to pull her weight around the house.

How it had gotten into his head that tending to the garden setup out back should fall to her was both confusing and troubling, because this Rowan had a wicked temper and Willow had no doubt he would not be pleased with the results of her efforts.

"They're just veggies, Red, they don't bite." The familiar voice that rang out from behind her would have, at some point, sent her into near hysterics; now she merely glanced over her shoulder at Tama, lips quirking up into a faint smile. He grinned back, moving to stand next to her. "Not gonna lie though, the cilantro can be more temperamental than God Complex on a late coffee day."

His presence was a small comfort, and Willow rested her head against his shoulder. "I-I'm terrible at this, and your b-brother is gonna kill me."

Tama raised an eyebrow. "You mean to tell me you're not the green goddess of the harvest you appear to be? I have been deceived." He placed a hand over his heart dramatically, and Willow couldn't help but giggle.

"I-in my defense, I n-never said I was."

"Yeah, Rowan's tripping with that," Tama admitted, scratching his head. "I dunno if he's just assuming because you look like you'd be at home in a garden or something or if he's too out of touch with living things to understand that plants need an experienced touch. Shit, maybe it's both."

Willow mirrored Tama's gesture from earlier, raising an eyebrow of her own. "You s-sound like you know a l-lot about this."

"Who else do you think was tending to these little guys all this time?" Tama winked at her, then moved forward to stand near the stands of pots, lightly brushing his fingertips over new growth in one of the pots. It was difficult to reconcile the gentle touch applied to the pale green, fragile young leaves with the brutality Willow was a firsthand witness to. She'd seen those same fingers topped with wicked tapered claws, ripping through flesh and hide with little to no resistance. She had felt them upon her cheek long before they meant something to each other, a scar that had yet to fully fade despite having healed completely by now.

They were also the same fingertips that she'd felt tracing lightly over her skin, tilting her chin upwards so that he could stare into her eyes, licking his lips before moving in to capture hers, surprisingly soft hands that wiped away her tears while smoothing over her hair when the anxiety rose to a breaking point.

Willow was glad his back was turned; it allowed the furious, deep red flush tinting her face to lessen somewhat, unnoticed. Once she'd regained her composure, she moved forward to stand beside Tama. "T-tama?"

He looked up from where he'd taken to brushing aside soil in one of the pots to allow the new growth to breathe. "What's up? Don't worry about this, by the way. I've been taking care of them since God Complex decided having a garden would cut down on supply runs. I don't mind keeping up with that."

Be brave. Willow's hand shook as she reached over to place hers atop the hand cradling a small clump of buds. "I-I... I w-want to help," she managed, the words spilling out past her chest having tightened. "I-I'm really bad with plants, b-but... if you can show me what I n-need to do, then..."

Before she could go any further, Tama's other hand came to rest atop hers, gently moving it to another clump of raised soil in the pot. The usual mischievous gleam remained his eye, but the wolfish grin was absent, momentarily replaced by a soft smile that reminded her of the other Tama, the Tama that she used to know.

And for once, that thought was not accompanied by twin pangs of guilt and loss.

"We'll start off small then, Red. You can help me clear space for the babies. Just be careful when you're moving the soil around, it's real easy to damage the roots when they're this new."

Willow listened carefully, allowing him to guide her hand at first before letting her take over, a soft smile of her own creeping onto her face as the two of them worked side by side in the warm, early afternoon sunshine.

[phenix-is-rp-trash]

(Starter for Wyetta / @wandering-mist from Pandemonium)

She'd done it again.

Panne's heart was beating out of control, her chest heaving as she ran; it would have been much simpler and quicker to just planewalk or cloak herself until the danger had passed, but she'd used up enough energy fighting her way out of the city alone - far more than she'd actually managed to acquire.

She could hear the pounding of hooves along the road, voices calling out threats and insults to her kind into the cool night air; the road was too exposed but the brush along the side of it was no easy going, and more than once she lost her balance, further tearing her clothing. She was *exhausted*, but the ache in her sides was better than the alternative.

She'd seen what others had done to demons too weakened to defend themselves upon apprehending them, and she had no intention of suffering the same fate.

The treeline of what looked to be a thick stand of woods loomed ahead, and Panne put on an extra burst of speed, brambles slicing at her skin as she barreled past them and into the cover of the woods. Behind her, the sounds of the few approaching townspeople that were still on her trail died out, amidst audible expressions of dismay, but Panne kept running, occasionally flapping her wings for the speed boost. With the circumstances leading her to be fleeing now she didn't expect them to give up so easily.

It wasn't until the only sounds that remained were the soft, ambient sounds of forest creatures that she slowed, stumbling yet again - and this time finding herself unable to drag herself to her feet once more. Every breath she took was another pang in her chest; it occurred to her that she'd sustained some additional injuries, as well - various cuts and lacerations from projectiles, a couple of clear burn marks from a more magically-based offensive. Panne lowered her head onto the soft grass beneath her, too tired to tuck her wings or tail or even the curled horns poking through her hair out of sight. The world around her was rapidly growing dimmer as the exhaustion and effort caught up with her, and the last thought that crossed her mind before they ceased altogether for some time was that of the impending guilt setting in.

She'd never intended to hurt anyone.

With a final sigh of resignation, Panne's eyes slipped shut, and she knew no more.

[phenix-is-rp-trash]

[phenix-is-rp-trash]

Panne suppressed the urge to wince, unsure of the wisdom of further demonstrating her current state of weakness... as if nearly keeling over wasn't indicative enough. She could already feel her grip on her self-control beginning to weaken as the gnawing hunger and the manifestation of such grew even louder, crowding out logic and her sense of morality in favor of not just sating that particular need but completely indulging. Her other self had a bad habit of going just a little overboard. She gritted her teeth behind a strained smile, her flush visible despite her complexion; Belial's propositions were not making shutting that little voice up any easier, and every time she opened her mouth she risked completely outing herself. He was older than she was; surely he had to be familiar with how succubi worked - although, granted, she was a fairly unorthodox example of one. Claire never had this problem, feeding regularly with no qualms about it whatsoever, and it had been such a long time since she'd interacted with one of her own kind aside from her sister that Panne couldn't really say that her own experience was typical. It occurred to her that just maybe Belial was curious, and just maybe he was actively attempting to draw her other side out. ❤️ For such a high ranker you're a little on the dense side, you know? There was a smugness in the voice's tone, and Panne felt her fangs lengthen just slightly as she growled, "Shut up," in her native tongue, flushing further as she realized she'd spoken out loud. "Sorry! I'm sorry, I... I get a little... um... weird, when I've gone too long. But I can... I appreciate the help, but I'm sure I..." ❤️ Oh, fuck that. You are not turning this down.  Let me out, you sentimental bitch. Gimme the wheel. Now. Gods, her head hurt. Panne pressed the hand that Belial wasn't holding to her forehead; she needed to extricate herself and go take care of things before they got any worse, but her body wasn't cooperating. She opened her mouth to try to explain that she could handle things on her own once more, then paused at his next line of questioning, one that shot straight through to her own insecurities. That moment of doubt was the final straw on the back of a camel that had been trudging along for far too long without reprieve. Despite the innumerable times that it had happened, Panne never quite grew used to the sensation of being shoved and pushed at the same time, her last words a truncated yelp of dismay before the world around her seemed to gain another dimension of sensation; she was keenly aware of the surface of the seat beneath her bottom, the scent of alcohol and sweat and desperation and illicit substances permeating the air, the heat beneath the skin of the hand still clutching hers. Pandemonium threw back her head and laughed, overcome with how wonderful it felt to be free again. Appearances were the last thing she gave a damn about, and she gave a full body wiggle as her tail unfurled, snaking it along through the minimal amount of space that remained between their bodies and running the heart-shaped barb over his cheek before looping it around his neck and tugging him into a frenzied kiss that was mostly sharp, sharp teeth, nipping a couple of times amidst that constant bubble of manic laughter. Once she let him up for air Pandemonium licked her lips, perched on the stool nearly trembling with excitement and anticipation; she wasn't sure when her other features had made their appearance, but they were cute, so who cared? Her eyes glittered with mischief as she leaned forward, grinning. "I want everything, sweets. Dinner, dessert, and the afterglow."

-A sentimental one, hm? This could be fun. But Panne seemed hungry, and the hungrier a succubus became, the more fun it could be to witness. Belial was completely intent on witnessing just that. Hunger. Destruction. Utter godlike control and mayhem, just at the simple brush of a hand.-

Come now, love. Surely there’s something just burning in you, begging to be released? The only responsibility you truly have is to yourself. However, if you’re truly certain on the preservation of those mortal souls, then perhaps you should take solace in those who commit atrocities of their own. The rapists, the philanderers, those who proceed to take the lives of themselves or others. 

-Her dizziness. She hadn’t fed for some time, he could just see the evil begging to be released. To feed. To sate. Running his tongue along the edge of his teeth, Belial leaned forward, their faces inches apart as his crimson eyes glimmered in fascination. He took her hand, running the pad of this thumb along her palm. Oh, she was definitely famished.-

Let me help you, Panne. Let me help you find the release you seek. You said so yourself, their lives are short, fleeting. And demonic energies just don’t satisfy like a human’s does to one such as yourself. Even the incubi are aware of this fact. Would you prefer to make your own selection? Or would you like me to make a decision? Either way, you must feed, love. Do not deny yourself both the pleasure and the sustainment.

[phenix-is-rp-trash]

they always are💕