#''ablaze with unspoken thirst''

[headlesssamurai]

“Hers was an elegant savagery.”

[arminsfavoritepookie]

PERVERSE by @arminsfavoritepookie PT.2 / PT.1

○ Pairing: MIKASA ACKERMAN x FEM READER

Contains: Gay stuff, smut, nasty, idk, pervert mikasa stealing yo panties and shoving them up her—Mentions of manipulation, SLOW BURN PEOPLE, intoxication, smoking blah, no because she deadass a pervert, oc mikasa don’t shit your pant

○ Synopsis: Your neighbor really really wants to fuck you and you’re foaming at the mouth for a taste

Request if you would like a pt.3

She sat there in silence, fingers dancing delicately around the rim of her wine glass. The sound echoed through the quiet of the room, a sweet symphony that entranced and captured your attention entirely. It was as though she was speaking a language only the two of you could understand, her every tap and flick of her fingers setting your heart racing. The crimson wine glistened with each passing movement of her glass, an unspoken allure drawing you closer.

You watched her in silence, eyes tracing over the lines of her face, trying to decipher the thoughts and emotions that swirled behind those deep, dark eyes. Her lips, stained and eager, parted with each sip, as though each drop of wine that crossed them was a kiss from an adoring lover. She savored the taste, allowing it to fill her with a warmth that sent ripples through her being.

The world outside faded into the background as you both sat there in silence, wrapped up in a bubble of intimacy and understanding. Her gaze never faltered, piercing into your very being, seeking out the secrets that you thought were safely locked away.

The connection between the two of you was electric, an unspoken intensity simmering just beneath the surface. As she probed deeper into your soul, you felt the walls around your heart beginning to crumble, allowing her in to see the real you. "I want to know everything," she murmured, the soft timbre of her voice setting your heart ablaze. "Every inch of you." Her words left you both shaken and enthralled, your eyes locked in a dance of need.

She continued to toy with the rim of her glass, each touch more delicate than the last. With each stroke, it was as though she was painting a picture of passion, using nothing but her fingers and a simple wine glass. The intensity built until it was almost unbearable, your heart racing with every touch. But when you finally dared to speak, your words revealed the depths of how badly you want her. "You have a way with words, Ms. Ackerman. You always put me at ease." you whispered, unable to control the throbbing in between your legs.

She looked up at you, dark eyes twinkling with a seductive energy that sent shivers down your spine. "And how is that, pretty?" she purred, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You can barely look me in the eye."

Mikasa was lost in a thirst for you that was hard to explain. She wanted to explore every inch of you, taking things slow and steady before diving in headfirst. As she traced small, delicate circles around your thigh, she felt your body instinctively tense up. She could hear your breath quicken and feel your heart racing beneath her fingertips. A devilish grin played on Mikasa's lips as she noticed the effect she was having on you.

"You're not going to stop me now, are you?" she teased, letting her filthy fingers glide up your thigh with slow and steady precision. Her touch sent chills through your body, and you found yourself gasping for air. As she made her way up to your chest, Mikasa couldn't resist teasing your sensitive nipples. She traced small circles around them, feeling them harden and become more sensitive beneath her touch. She smiled as she heard your breathing deepen, knowing that she was having the desired effect.

As she traced her nails down your chest, you let out a deep moan from within. Your breathing became harder, and your eyes locked onto hers as she traced her fingers along your neck. Every inch of your skin was alive with sensation, and you found yourself wanting more. With a wicked grin, Mikasa leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. "I'm just getting started," she whispered, sending shivers down your spine. You knew that you were powerless against her, lost in a sea of pleasure and desire.

You found yourself gasping for air as you struggled to control the waves of need that were coursing through your body. You had never experienced anything like this before—the intensity, the passion, the all-consuming craving that had engulfed you ever since Mikasa had walked through that door.

She scooted closer to you now, her sultry gaze locked onto yours, and her fingers coiled tightly around your throat. Every movement, every touch, was like a jolt of energy, driving you closer and closer to the edge. "Mikasa..." you moaned, your eyes fluttering shut as her lips drew ever closer to yours. Her grip on your throat tightened, and you could feel your heart racing in your chest as she pulled you even closer to her.

Her breath was hot on your skin, and the smell of her was intoxicating, making you crave her even more. And then she spoke, her voice sultry and needy, her words a challenge that left you breathless. "You think I won't hurt you?" Her gaze never wavered, and her grip on your throat only grew tighter as she awaited your response.  

You struggled to speak, to form the words that would satisfy her, but your body was betraying you, writhing and bucking as she exerted her power over you. But then, with all the strength you could muster, you met her gaze and spoke your truth.

"I don't believe you could ever truly hurt me, even if you wanted to." The words spilled out of you, tumbling from your lips in a desperate rush as Mikasa's nails dug into your skin, and her gaze burned into yours. You felt a sudden rush of fear, knowing that you had pushed her to her limit.

But instead of anger, Mikasa's face twisted into a dangerous grin, her lips curving upwards in a wicked smile that made your pulse race even faster. "You would let me have my way with you?" she asked, her voice dripping with temptation. The thought of Mikasa taking complete control was almost too much to bear, and you knew that you would do anything to satisfy her.

"I would let you do anything you wanted," you whispered, barely able to get the words out before Mikasa shoved you away, her own need for you warring with her need for control. The sudden loss of her touch left you feeling bereft, and you could feel yourself trembling with anticipation, waiting for whatever she had planned next.

For a moment, she sat there, her eyes closed, her breath coming in short gasps as she fought to regain control. And then, with a fierce determination in her eyes, she lunged forward once more, her lips capturing yours in a passionate, fiery kiss that left you breathless.

A heavy weight settled in the pit of your stomach. The mixed emotions of confusion, excitement, and fear took over, leaving you feeling both overwhelmed and powerless. The raw passion that emanated from her was like a tidal wave crashing down on you, making it difficult to think straight. "I know what you want," she repeated, her voice low and husky. Her gaze was intense, holding you captive with every word she uttered. You could feel your heartbeat racing, the heat of desire slowly spreading through your veins. But you also felt a nagging doubt, a sense of uncertainty that made you hesitate.

Despite that, you couldn't deny the pull that this woman had on you. There was something about her that made you crave her touch, yearn for her in ways you never thought possible. Her chuckle was like a siren's call, luring you in deeper and deeper until you were drowning in her allure. But then she spoke those words, warning you of the danger that lurked beneath the surface. "You're not ready," she said, her voice tinged with regret. "You don't know what you're asking for." It was as if she knew you better than you knew yourself, sensing the naivete and inexperience that you tried so hard to conceal.

But despite that, she couldn't help but admit her own hunger for you. "I crave you," she murmured, leaning in closer until you could feel the warmth of her breath on your skin. "I need you." In that moment, it felt as if the whole world had shrunk down to just the two of you. The air was thick with anticipation, the electricity of attraction buzzing between you like an invisible force. You knew what you wanted, what your body and heart were crying out for. And yet, you also knew that there was a price to be paid for such intense passion. "Why toy with me like this?" you asked, feeling a flicker of frustration ignite within you. "What's the point if you won't give me what I want?"

Her response was swift, her grip on your face almost painful in its intensity. "Don't back away from me when I'm talking to you," she growled, her eyes flashing with a dangerous edge. But despite that, you refused to back down. "I won't be a plaything for your amusement," you said firmly, your own anger starting to simmer beneath the surface. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then why bother teasing me?"

The woman's expression shifted, her features twisting into a mixture of agony and desire. You could sense the conflict within her, the need to hold back versus the urge to let go. And yet, you couldn't let yourself be swayed by that. "I just want you to fuck me," you pleaded, feeling the slickness between your thighs become too much to bear.

The room was spinning and the walls felt like they were closing in. You knew the cause—it was the mix of alcohol and suppressed feelings that had set your emotions ablaze. The fire within you raged, hot and unforgiving, threatening to engulf you. Mikasa had gone through great lengths to make this evening perfect for the both of you. Her desire to forge a deeper and more meaningful bond between the two of you was evident in the way she had arranged everything with care and thoughtfulness.

Mikasa was a woman who had given you everything since the moment you met. Her love, affection and her very soul was offered up to you like an altar sacrifice. But it was all in vain, for you acted as if she was just a mere physical indulgence. Your negligence was crystal clear, and it had become quite apparent that something needed to change - that change had to come from Mikasa.

She knew that getting you to comprehend the intensity of her feelings was no easy feat. But she was determined to do whatever it took to ensure you never doubted her love for you again. In your state of inebriation, it was difficult to realize how wrong you were. How your carelessness had the potential to destroy everything she had built.

The passion within her had intensified and burned hot, and as she stood up, you could feel the air crackle around her. Her movements were jagged, raw, like those of a wounded animal, struggling for survival. She was the embodiment of true passion, and you could sense her rising intensity and determination.

"I see now that you're not ready for me, for us," her voice was as cold as steel, distant and uncaring. "But I'll let your disrespect slide this time. Next time, I won't be this easy on you." She looked at you for a moment before turning on her heels and leaving the room. Her figure disappeared into the darkness, fading into the shadows, leaving you behind, to face the consequences of your actions.

But you knew that this storm was far from over, and that the hunger inside you would only continue to grow until it finally gets what it's want.

[elysiumania]

title: fragile reflections pairing(s): blade, reader characters: blade, kafka, silver wolf, elio word count: 6.4k synopsis: as the moment unfolds, you believed victory was within your grasp, only to be met with an unexpected twist of fate. blade emerges as the ultimate victor, proving that when it comes to skill and long-lasting life, he surpasses you. this realization instills a profound understanding that there are depths to blade's abilities that outshine your own.

Within the expansive confines of the Stellaron Hunters' concealed headquarters, the training ground resonated with the thunderous clash and rhythmic swish of a finely honed blade slicing through forged metal. Overlooking the spectacle, nestled within the confines of the state-of-the-art modular training room, stood Silver Wolf. Her piercing gaze surveyed the scene below, attentively observing the unfolding exhibition of martial prowess.

Amidst the orchestrated chaos, a man emerged as the focal point, his dark blue-hued tresses swirling through the air with an untamed grace. Embodied by an aura of controlled ferocity, he stood resolute amidst the whirlwind of activity, embarking on an unyielding encounter with the meticulously crafted training machines. These automatons, a testament to the ingenuity of the hunters’ skilled hacker, were no match for his formidable abilities.

The man's eyes, ablaze with an otherworldly crimson radiance, mirrored his innermost desires—a primal longing for the thrill of battle and the exhilaration of spilt blood. Yet, his movements betrayed a grace and finesse that belied the raw intensity burning within. With each step and strike, he danced effortlessly amidst the mechanical foes, his lithesome form evading their onslaught with a combination of instinct and honed skill.

As the clash of steel echoed through the training grounds, the air hummed with an electric energy, captivating all who bore witness to this display of martial artistry. The man's proficiency with the blade was unparalleled, his strikes executed with a precision that showcased years of disciplined training. It was as if he had transcended mere mortal limitations, his every motion a testament to the consummate fusion of mind, body and spirit.

For the past half-hour, Silver Wolf had maintained a silent vigil, her unwavering focus fixated on the unfolding spectacle before her. The training ground had become an arena of chaos, a maelstrom of clashing blades and rending metal that assaulted her senses. Each swing and strike from Blade echoed with a thunderous noise that reverberated through the cavernous space.

In any other circumstance, Silver Wolf would have sought solace in the virtual worlds or reveled in a rare day of reprieve from their demanding mission. But today was different. She had chosen to remain, to bear witness to the sheer might and skill emanating from her comrade. The resounding clash of metal, though deafening, was a testament to Blade's unrivaled prowess and the inherent dangers they faced as Stellaron Hunters.

The vision of Silver Wolf partaking in a well-deserved respite, following the successful completion of their latest mission under the watchful guidance of Elio, now felt like a fleeting dream. Her companion, an insufferable and insatiable man, wasted no time in asserting his insatiable appetite for training, demanding a veritable army of automatons upon their return to the headquarters.

Silver Wolf's eyes flickered with a blend of disbelief and exasperation as she cast a skeptical glance on Blade. The audacity of his request, to acquire a multitude of automatons at this critical juncture, bordered on the absurd. Yet, as her gaze locked onto the fiery intensity burning within Blade's eyes, brimming with an insatiable thirst for combat, she found herself with little choice but to yield to his demand. It wasn't a matter of feeling inferior to him; rather, it served as an unspoken recompense for his timely intervention, saving her from the relentless assault of their adversaries during their pursuit of the elusive stellaron.

The notion of indebtedness was an unwelcome concept in Silver Wolf's mind. She harbored an intense aversion to the notion of owing favors, and her unyielding resolve demanded immediate action to settle any debts that may have accrued. She refused to bear the weight of obligations and burdens, even if Blade himself never entertained such thoughts.

Thus, despite her yearning for respite and the solace of her personal quarters, Silver Wolf felt compelled by her sense of duty to discharge the debt owed to Blade. She comprehended that the conception of reciprocation scarcely traversed his mind, but she remained steadfast in her commitment to uphold her principles and ensure a clean slate, devoid of any lingering sense of obligation.

As Blade's onslaught continued, the metallic chorus reached its zenith, rising to an overwhelming crescendo that permeated the air with a symphony of strife. Each strike from Blade's sword, an extension of his very being, carried a ferocity that shattered the training machines like fragile porcelain, leaving behind a trail of broken fragments strewn across the field of the training ground. The scattered remains, akin to fallen soldiers on a hard-fought battlefield, bore witness to the magnitude of his prowess and the unyielding force that coursed through his veins.

Silver Wolf, deeply engrossed in her tenth endeavor to activate an array of diverse automatons, was abruptly startled from her task by the distinct sound of the glass door being swung open. Swiftly swiveling her chair, she found herself confronted by the unexpected sight of Kafka and yourself entering the room.

Kafka, her characteristic mischievous smile gracing her features, strode in with an air of familiarity, while you accompanied her with an enigmatic expression that concealed your immediate intentions. With a friendly flourish of your hand, you greeted Silver Wolf, offering a warm acknowledgement of her presence within the room.

"Oh, so here you both are," Kafka exclaimed, her voice brimming with a delightful blend of inquisitiveness and amusement. "I've been searching for you and Bladie since some of the crew informed me that you've returned from your mission and ventured off to the training grounds."

Silver Wolf nodded in response, her attention momentarily diverted from Blade's fierce swordplay outside the glass, as Kafka continued to observe the intense spectacle. 

"Yes, once we arrived, Blade wasted no time in requesting the use of my machines for his training," she replied wearily, a hint of exhaustion lacing her voice. "Perhaps he needed an outlet to release some pent-up tension."

Letting out a weary sigh, Silver Wolf turned her gaze towards you, seeking to understand your presence in the room. "And what about you, (Name)?" she inquired, her eyes reflecting both curiosity and a touch of fatigue. "What brings you here?"

You cast Kafka a sidelong glance, a mixture of amusement and exasperation gleaming in your eyes, as she posed her question. "Kafka practically dragged me away just as I was en route to the cafeteria for some nourishment."

Kafka, undeterred by your response, tilts her head and playfully queries, "Aren't you eager to offer a warm welcome to our esteemed hunters, freshly returned from their mission?" Her smirk reflects a mischievous glint in her eyes.

In response to her playful inquiry about welcoming the returning hunters, you and Silver Wolf exchange furtive glances, silently sharing an unspoken understanding. Finally, you turn your attention back to Kafka, and in a casual tone, you confess, "I suppose... my inclination does not lean particularly in that direction."

Kafka's laughter resounded through the room, a vibrant eruption, carrying a sense of carefree exuberance that seemed to emanate from the depths of her very being. As her laughter subsided, she addressed you, her voice tinged with amusement and a mischievous undertone that laced her words with playful teasing. 

"(Name)," she remarked, her tone a delicate balance between jest and genuine curiosity, "You truly possess an air of rigidity. Perhaps it's time to unwind and embrace a lighter approach? Or perchance the allure of embarking on another mission has been gnawing at you during this month of dormancy within the confines of our headquarters?"

Your response was involuntary, a subtle scrunching of the nose and the formation of a deep crease upon your forehead betraying the truth behind Kafka's astute observation. You could not deny it—the restlessness had taken root within you, a persistent itch that fueled an insatiable yearning for the thrill of a fresh mission. The boundaries of the headquarters, once a bastion of purpose and strength, had gradually become stifling and confining. They now dulled your finely honed skills and eroded your sense of self, leaving you yearning for the exhilaration and purpose that only a new endeavor could provide.

Elio's firm determination to keep you on the sidelines remained a confounding enigma, a perplexing puzzle that teased at the corners of your mind. Initially, it was easy to attribute it to the critical mission undertaken by Kafka and Silver Wolf as they infiltrated Herta's impregnable space station. Yet, as the days stretched into weeks, and missions were deftly assigned to other members, the absence of targeted orders directed specifically to you left you adrift in a sea of bewilderment, seething with an all-consuming anger that threatened to consume you whole.

The sheer absurdity of the situation only served to exacerbate your mounting frustrations. The knowledge of your capabilities, honed through countless trials and triumphs, echoed relentlessly in your mind, a reminder of your worth and the contributions you could offer to the cause. It was as if the very essence of your purpose had been cast aside, relegated to the shadows while others took center stage. The tempest of emotions churned within, a potent blend of indignation, resentment, and a simmering sense of injustice that surged through your being.

In the depths of your mind, a maze of questions twisted and turned, their answers elusive like phantoms in the mist. Doubts, like shadows, crept insidiously into your thoughts, their insidious tendrils probing the very core of your existence. 

Did Elio harbor reservations about your capabilities? Was there a seed of doubt that had taken root, deeming you unfit to face the arduous challenges that the missions entailed? Perhaps, in his eyes, your presence posed a lurking liability, casting a shroud of uncertainty upon the success of the team's endeavors. The lack of clarity, like a gust of wind, fanned the flames of speculation and self-doubt, igniting a tempestuous storm within your consciousness.

Yet, amidst the tumultuous sea of uncertainty and frustration, there remained a steadfast trust in Elio, an unfaltering belief that he held intricate plans concealed beneath his enigmatic demeanor. His clairvoyant abilities, whispered in hushed reverence, carried an aura of mystique and substance. Elio possessed a talent for speaking in riddles, weaving his messages with an intricate tapestry of words that masked the full extent of his intentions. 

His every utterance, like ancient prophecies, cast a tantalizing veil of intrigue over his actions. And while this ambiguity often left you grappling in the dark, struggling to decipher his enigmatic clues, you understood the weight and significance of such abilities. You never wavered in acknowledging the gravity of his visions.

But the absence of any inkling, any morsel of guidance regarding your current state of uncertainty, left you adrift, much like a solitary vessel lost amidst the boundless sea. Each step forward felt like stumbling through an enigmatic labyrinth, where the path ahead remained concealed within a dense fog of ambiguity, teasing your senses and confounding your every decision.

Even Kafka, Elio's most trusted confidante, seemed devoid of insight into your predicament. As she and the other stellaron hunters departed for their daring missions, a bittersweet envy flickered in your eyes—a longing to be part of their adventures, to embrace the thrill of the unknown. Sensing your yearning, Kafka became a beacon of solace, assuring you with words of encouragement that your turn would come, that destiny would soon unveil its plans for you. In an effort to offer further solace and a tangible connection to their journeys, she promised to return with souvenirs from the exotic worlds they traversed—a gesture brimming with thoughtfulness and consideration.

In those moments, a profound sense of gratitude swelled within you, radiating warmth amidst the desolation of your stagnant existence. Kafka's kindness, though seemingly small in the grand scheme of things, became a lifeline—a fragile thread of connection that alleviated the monotony of your prison-like days. Each trinket or token she brought back became a cherished treasure, a fleeting glimpse into the worlds beyond, a portal through which you could briefly escape the confines of your confinement.

Returning back to your senses, you regard Kafka's question again. "Yes, I am. I want to go on a mission after getting stuck here like a prisoner. I feel useless when I'm the only one being left here while the four of you are going on a hunt."

As the weight of your words settles in the air, Kafka's keen eyes scan your face with an understanding born out of years spent in companionship and shared experiences. She recognizes the subtle nuances, the minute shifts in your countenance, that reveal the emotions you struggle to conceal—the bitterness, the sense of unfairness that tugs at the corners of your lips, threatening to spill forth.

In the beginning, when you first joined the ranks of the stellaron hunters, you wore a cloak of mystery, distancing yourself from the others and erecting walls that shielded your true self from prying eyes. But over time, a gradual transformation occurred, and the fortress of stoicism you once donned began to crumble, revealing glimpses of vulnerability and authenticity. The layers peeled away, revealing new facets of your being, and Kafka, ever perceptive, observed this change with a mixture of satisfaction and contentment. It was evident to the growing trust between you, a sign that the bonds of fellow hunters had woven themselves deep within your heart.

Kafka's gaze lingers on your face, her own expression a mirror of understanding. She acknowledges the frustration that simmers within you, the yearning to break free from the confines of your confinement, to once again venture on missions that test your skills and ignite your spirit. Her voice, when it comes, carries a gentle reassurance.

"I understand," she says, her words a soothing balm to the restlessness that churns within your soul. "It is natural to feel that way, to crave the thrill of the hunt when you are left behind. But trust that Elio has his reasons, hidden though they may be. We are Destiny's Slaves and each role we play is integral to our collective success. Your time will come, (Name), and when it does, you are free to do as you wish."

Her words, spoken with the weight of sincerity, convey a profound understanding and an unyielding faith in the tapestry of destiny that intertwines your fates. In her eyes, there is no doubt, no hesitation even if Kafka's a known mischievous and enigmatic woman. 

But for you, you are aware that the temporary reprieve that enveloped you in its gentle embrace couldn't mask the underlying truth that gnawed at your core. As the moments of ease slipped through your fingers like sand, you were acutely aware that the specter of frustration loomed just beyond the horizon. Tomorrow, or another day when clarity continued to elude you, the weight of unanswered questions and unfulfilled purpose would resurface, seeping back into your consciousness like a relentless tide.

You knew all too well that the calm facade you wore today would eventually crumble, giving way to the storm of emotions that swirled within. It was a cycle, a rhythm that played out time and again, leaving you caught in the perpetual dance of anticipation and disappointment. The weight of confusion pressed upon your shoulders, reminding you that the unwarranted luxury of relaxation could never truly drown out the echoes of unfulfilled aspirations.

With a languid tone, Kafka muses, her index finger thoughtfully placed upon her chin. "Were I in your shoes," she begins, "I would readily savor this moment of respite. It is undeniably a luxury to indulge in relaxation, considering the demanding nature of our profession. So, I intend to seize the opportunity and start on my own personal vacation, unburdened by responsibilities or concerns."

As Kafka's words flowed from her lips, a discernible undercurrent of longing wove through her tone, resonating with the weight of her unspoken desires. You, intimately acquainted with her journey as a stellaron hunter, recognized the deep-seated yearning that permeated her speech. Countless missions, each one demanding and arduous, had been entrusted to her capable hands by Elio himself. The weight of responsibility she carried, shouldering the expectations and trust placed upon her, was immense.

You understood the toll that her consecutive missions had taken on Kafka, the toll that went beyond physical exertion and delved into the field of emotional and mental fatigue. The constant vigilance, the endless pursuit of dangerous prey, had become a relentless cycle that left her yearning for a respite, a momentary escape from the burdensome load she carried.

In her role as Elio's confidante, Kafka bore the heavy weight of his trust like a skilled conductor, orchestrating and executing missions with unwavering dedication. The weight of her responsibilities was akin to an intricately woven tapestry, each thread representing a mission, a life entrusted to her capable hands. With each passing day, the tapestry grew denser, the threads multiplying, until it threatened to engulf her entirely. The need for a vacation, a respite from the constant whirlwind, had become an urgent necessity.

In that fleeting moment, a vivid tableau painted itself before your mind's eye, depicting Kafka liberating herself from the binding chains of responsibility. It was her very essence yearned to break free from the constraints of their esteemed profession, to venture forth into a realm where her worries and obligations held no sway. The palpable longing in her eyes spoke volumes, revealing an ardent desire to partake in the unadulterated joys of unfettered freedom and self-gratification. 

Hence, you understand the reason why she said those words. You have no say.

As if a thunderous clap resounded through the training grounds, seizing your collective attention, you and the two others turned to witness Blade's final strike cleaving through the last vestige of Silver Wolf's intricate machine. In an instant, the room fell silent, save for the lingering echoes of destruction. And with an abrupt motion, Blade's gaze darted at the modular training room where the three of you are settled.

Silver Wolf, weariness etched upon her visage, heaved a weary sigh, as she already sensed the message conveyed by Blade's piercing gaze alone. No words were necessary, as he stood amidst the remnants of conquered contraptions strewn across the field, his silent proclamation resounding through the air.

Through the telecoms of the training ground, Silver's voice resounds as she addresses Blade, "Blade, there are no automatons remaining. You have successfully eradicated them all with your own hands. However, please be aware that my machines require a week's time before they can be utilized once again."

If Silver Wolf remembers it correctly,  her role did not encompass the creation of machines solely for Blade's destructive pleasure. She was not a mere servant to fulfill his whims, nor was she bound by duty to tirelessly churn out automatons to cater to his insatiable desires. The incessant demands placed upon her by her relentless fellow hunter had taken a toll, leaving her exhausted and irritable.

Each time Blade laid waste to her meticulously crafted machines in the training grounds, Silver Wolf couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration. The weariness etched upon her features betrayed the burdens she bore, both physical and emotional. While she harbored a deep desire to repay her debts to Blade, the situation had become an unfair and one-sided exchange, tilting the scales heavily in his favor.

Kafka's sudden suggestion catches both your and Silver Wolf's attention, prompting a moment of consideration. "Why not have (Name) and Bladie engage in a sparring match?" Kafka proposes, her idea arising unexpectedly. "Such an arrangement would prove mutually beneficial. (Name) would satisfy their longing for action, while Bladie would find the increased engagement they desire. It appears to be a win-win situation for both parties involved."

Kafka's mischievous eyes sparkled with a glint of amusement as her voice danced through the training ground, intentionally allowing Blade to overhear her suggestion. Her gaze fixed upon him, her smirk conveying a challenge, as she eagerly anticipated his response. Yet, Blade remained stoically unmoved, his back turned to her, his sword dismissed with a graceful and masterful flourish by his side.

Kafka's lips stretched into a satisfied smile, her keen perception allowing her to discern the unspoken affirmation within Blade's deliberate actions. Understanding his silent agreement, she shifted her attention towards you, her gaze beckoning for your input on the matter.

A brief pause enveloped the space, as silence settled and anticipation hung in the air. You released a defeated sigh, the weight of confinement and monotony lingering within you. With a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders, you conceded, realizing that Kafka's proposal would at least provide some thrill from the mundane.

Kafka's smile broadened, a sense of satisfaction emanating from her as both parties seemed to lack any objections to her proposition. It was a small victory, a chance to break free from the confines that had threatened to stifle you and Blade.

Blade stood motionless in his place, his gaze scanning the remnants of destruction that sprawled across the training ground. However, his attention was swiftly seized by the resonant sound of the training ground's doors swinging open. As you strode purposefully through the wide expanse, skillfully navigating your way through the scattered debris he had left in his wake, your eyes remained fixated upon his form, an enigmatic gaze he could never decipher, characterized by a nonchalant and constant composure.

His gaze mirrored yours, displaying a seemingly relaxed countenance that belied the overflowing bloodlust teeming from within him. Though his intention was shrouded in silence, it seeped through your senses, an undeniable presence.

As the distance between you and Blade dwindled, you held your gaze steadfast, meeting his own undaunted stare, devoid of any discernible emotion.

"As ceaseless in your hunger as ever, Blade," you greet him, your words ringing out into the air. However, his silence in response carries no weight or significance for you. It is a familiar sight, one reminiscent of your initial encounter with him.

Blade, unmoving and stoic, continues to watch you with his penetrating gaze. His scrutiny holds no sway over you, a gaze you have grown accustomed to his presence. Undeterred, you take a deliberate step forward, drawing your sword from its sheath with a fluid motion, the glimmering steel catching the light. The air hums with anticipation as you dismiss your weapon with an echoing swish, slicing through the atmosphere.

Blade, unflinching and immobile by your display, remains rooted in his stance. But, a flicker of something unfamiliar dances in his eyes—a glimmer of intrigue and amusement. He witnesses the burning thirst for thrill and the desire to spar that radiates from your very being. The intensity in your eyes, flickering with resolve, is a novel sensation for Blade. It sparks a response within him, a twisted desire to challenge and crush the confidence that brims so palpably within you that both intrigued and repulsed him.

In a suspended moment, pregnant with anticipation, you launched yourself towards Blade with an almost ethereal swiftness, the weight of your sword firmly gripped in your hands. The clash of steel ringing through the air as your sword descended upon him, driven by precise movements and burning hunger. Yet, Blade's reflexes, honed to an unparalleled degree, proved to be a formidable match for your assault. With a seamless display of skill, he skillfully blocked each of your rapid strikes, his own weapon bearing the marks of wear and tear, cracks tracing intricate patterns along its surface.

The resounding clash of your weapons sent tremors through the vicinity, accompanied by fleeting sparks that illuminated the battlefield in transient bursts. As Blade caught a glimpse of your dauntless gaze, brimming with determination and purpose, his smirk deepened, a silent acknowledgement of the intensity mirrored within you. He recognized the fire that burned in your soul, a flame that drove you forward in relentless pursuit of your ambitions.

Blade, however, held no interest in venturing beyond the realm of fellow hunters, his attention solely devoted to the field of skills and accomplishments. Delving into the depths of personal connections held no allure for him, save for the exceptional regard he reserved for Kafka and Elio. Driven by a dedicated desire to achieve the goals that coursed through his veins, he remained focused on his own path, unfazed by the currents that surged within the hearts of others.

Throughout the course of your shared missions, you and Blade maintained a professional distance, seldom engaging in more than the necessary interactions. Under the guidance of Elio, you would receive your instructions and embark on your respective tasks, reconvening only upon completion to report back.

Formerly, Blade held a dismissive perception of you—a figure he regarded as weak and lost, shrouded in the barriers you had erected around yourself. It was an impression born out of his keen ability to read others, to discern their strengths and weaknesses. But, his perception underwent a remarkable shift during your first mission alongside Kafka.

Witnessing the fluidity and finesse with which you wielded your sword, Blade's insight went through a profound metamorphosis. The elegant ballet of steel that exuded from your movements transcended any experience he had hitherto encountered, stirring within him a voracious curiosity about the depths of your mastery. From that moment forward, a new chapter unfurled as Blade assumed the role of an astute observer, his gaze etching every detail of your technique upon the canvas of his memory. He painstakingly absorbed the intricacies of your attack patterns and unraveled the enigma of your abilities, seeking to fathom the unfathomable depths of your prowess.

With each passing day, his respect for you as a formidable swordsman grew.

In Blade's vantage point, the encounter with you held a level of intrigue and stimulation far surpassing any battle against Silver Wolf's machines. While facing off against the onslaught of thousands of automatons showcased his prowess and efficiency, this live duel against you offered something more—a truly worthy challenge that ignited his senses.

As the clash of your blades echoed through the training ground, Blade's eyes gleamed with a hunger that surpassed mere bloodlust. It was an insatiable craving for the exhilarating dance of steel, for the unpredictable nature of combat, and for the opportunity to test his skills against a formidable opponent. In this battle, he found a worthy adversary, one whose abilities and strategy pushed him to his limits.

With each decisive strike, you threw yourself into the battle, channeling the very essence of your skill and resolve. Every movement was executed with precision, a testament to your unfaltering focus. Your eyes blazed with a fiery intensity, reflecting the sheer force of your will as you sought to assert your dominance over Blade.

But Blade, in all his arcane prowess, met your assault with a calm and calculated grace. His responses were swift and deliberate, a proof to his mastery of the sword. Like a dance of shadows, he effortlessly parried your attacks, his sword and arms forming an impenetrable fortress against your relentless onslaught. It was as if he possessed an innate understanding of your every move, countering each strike with a calculated precision that left no room for error.

As the clash persists, a silent exchange of energy passes between you. Blade, ever perceptive, keenly sensed the depth of your thirst for battle. He recognized the hunger that emanated from you, a longing to once again immerse yourself in the chaotic embrace of combat. The frustration and pent-up energy that had accumulated during your days of confinement now surged forth, propelling you to unleash your skills with an intensity that bordered on desperation.

In the face of your unleashed power, Blade couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. It was a rare sight to witness someone so driven, so resolute in their pursuit of victory. As he deftly countered each of your strikes, a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, an acknowledgment of your ferocity. In that moment, he found a profound sense of amusement, knowing that he not only matched your skills but surpassed them.

The battle between you and Blade became a spectacle, an exhibition of skill and strength. Each strike of swords painted a vivid picture of your excellence and his mastery. It was a dance of swords, a symphony of movement and strategy, woven with the threads of anticipation and calculated aggression. As the battle intensified, the air crackled with an electric energy, a testament to the sheer force of your wills colliding in this epic encounter.

Blade's relentless assault continued, his sword slashing through the air with an almost supernatural speed and rigor. You found yourself on the defensive, struggling to block and dodge his relentless attacks. The weight and speed of his strikes pushed you further into a corner, forcing you to rely on every ounce of skill and reflexes you possessed.

Amidst the tumultuous fray of battle, Blade seized an opportunity and struck you with a powerful blow to the gut, leaving you momentarily winded and gasping for breath. Stepping back to regain your composure, you felt the sting of the strike reverberate through your body. Yet, you refused to let it break your spirit. Your senses remained sharp, your determination unyielding, as you knew that conceding defeat was not an option.

Blade, ever persistent, cared little for your momentary falter. His intention was clear: to continue his interminable assault until you either met his level or conceded defeat. With each impact of his strikes, a devilish grin stretched across his face, a telltale sign of the satisfaction derived from engaging in a worthy contest.

Like a bolt of lightning, Blade hurled himself towards you once again, his attacks unrelenting and fierce. He craved the thrill of a true challenge, and in your resilience, you provided him with the fulfillment he sought. The storm of your swords echoed about, a demonstration  of your determination to match his relentless onslaught.

Amidst the chaos of the battle, Blade's keen perception caught a subtle transformation in your demeanor. The flicker of surprise and fleeting perturbation that had briefly graced your countenance dissipated, giving way to the familiar mask of impassivity that often cloaked your features. It was as if a switch had been flipped within you, triggering a shift in your disposition.

In that fleeting moment, the veneer of indifference that settled upon your expression hinted at a potent force lying dormant within, waiting to be unleashed upon your foes. 

This revelation served only to stoke Blade's already burgeoning excitement, evident in the widening smirk that etched itself across his face. His eyes sparkled with a sinister gleam, for this was the very reaction he sought from his foes—a complete abandonment of mercy, a resolute absence of reservations, and an unyielding determination to unleash havoc upon the battlefield.

He wants more. More of it.

In the heat of the battle, Kafka and Silver Wolf stood as ardent witnesses to the captivating spectacle that unfolded before them. Their eyes remained transfixed upon the clash of wills between you and Blade, their hearts pounding in fervent anticipation with every strike and parry that reverberated through the air. The atmosphere crackled with a heated charge, resonating with the tangible intensity that filled the space.

Amidst the ceaseless exchange of blows, you delved deep into the reservoir of your vast experience and honed skill. Every fiber of your being became singularly attuned to the intricacies of Blade's movements, a masterful analysis seeking out the faintest glimmer of vulnerability to exploit. The passage of time seemed to elongate, granting you a heightened perception of Blade's lightning-swift strikes within a mere fraction of their usual cadence. With augmented senses and a razor-sharp mind, you deftly navigated the elegant dance of blades, executing each move with calculated precision.

Taking a moment to draw a deep, fortifying breath, your firm gaze locked onto a concealed weakness, a blindspot inadvertently revealed by Blade in his relentless assault. It was a fleeting instant of lucidity amidst the swirling chaos—a moment of clarity that held the potential to alter the course of the battle. Fueled by an indomitable will power, you readied yourself to unleash a calculated counterattack, seizing the opportune moment that lay before you.

With a steady grasp upon the hilt of your sword, a swift and deliberate strike was unleashed, finding its mark upon Blade's right chest with unparalleled precision. The steel pierced through the tender flesh, a testimony to the accuracy and skill imbued within your every movement.

From the depths of the inflicted wound, a single rivulet of crimson emerged, staining the air with its presence. Yet, the sight of blood failed to elicit any flicker of perturbation within your steadfast demeanor. Your gaze, stripped of discernible emotion, ascended to meet Blade's own pair of crimson orbs, forging an intense gaze between you two. In that impermanent episode, a tinge of perplexity flitted across your visage as you delved into the mystifying depths of his eyes, cloaked in a mixture of amusement and intrigue. Unrelenting, Blade's devilish smirk persisted, mirroring the unshakable will power etched upon your own countenance.

The once vibrant training grounds now lay in silence, an eerie stillness permeating the air as the residue of the fierce battle hung in the atmosphere. The clash of swords had subsided, replaced by a charged tension that seemed to linger between you and Blade. In this quiet aftermath, Blade's voice cuts through the void, dripping with condescension that only serves to provoke you.

"Though you may inflict upon me an abundance of stabs, those wounds shall simply mend, allowing my existence to persist," he asserts, his words laced with disdain. Yet, your gaze remains fixed upon him, devoid of interest but brimming with a resolve that refuses to waver.

"Indeed, I am well aware of the transience of your wounds. That is precisely why I took it upon myself to pierce through your flesh with my own sword, Blade," you retort, a hint of purposive satisfaction coloring your voice.

A sinister smirk stretches across Blade's face, his features contorted with a blend of amusement and an insatiable desire to shatter your spirit with his own hands. He recognizes the cunning behind your calculated strike, acknowledging the depth of your strategic aptitude.

"How cunning you prove to be," he remarks, his voice dripping with pleasure, before swiftly transitioning to a more resolute tone. "Yet, such craftiness holds no significance in the face of true power."

Blade relinquishes his hold on his weapon, the sound of its impact against the ground ringing through the air, an echoing thud that resounds in the silence. Your gaze remains fixed upon him, your senses sharpened, attuned to every nuance of his demeanor, as you brace yourself for his next move.

However, to your utmost astonishment, he clings steadfastly to the body of your own sword, resolutely refusing to let it slip from his grasp. Despite your fervent and desperate attempts to wrest it away, his hold remains unyielding, as though bound to the weapon by an unseen force. Engaged in a relentless struggle against his strength, you strain every sinew in an effort to reclaim what is rightfully yours, but your endeavors prove naught but futile. As the moments stretch languidly into an interminable eternity, your eyes bear witness to rivulets of crimson, gently cascading from his clenched hand, a solemn indication to the toll his compacted grip exacts upon his own being.

Yet, in a stunning twist of fate, Blade's other hand swiftly ensnares your throat, catching you off guard with its merciless grip. The sudden constriction tightens around your windpipe, robbing you of precious breath and leaving you gasping for the elusive oxygen that now eludes you. As your vision blurs and your body weakens, you involuntarily relinquish your hold on your own sword, its resonating clatter filling the vastness of the room. Desperation surges through your veins, compelling your hands to claw desperately at the imprisoning arm, their futile attempts to break free revealing the depths of your plight.

Despite your valiant struggle, the vice-like grip around your neck remains unyielding, leaving you utterly at Blade's mercy. Suspended in mid-air, you find yourself helplessly suspended between life and death. 

Blade's eyes, ablaze with a chilling indifference and an unrelenting malevolence, lock onto yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. In that dreaded gaze, you catch a glimpse of his namesake, for within their depths resides a cold-heartedness devoid of any mercy, a mercilessness that threatens to snuff out your very existence.

"Let us bear witness to the endurance of your tenacity," he proclaims, his grip around your throat tightening with each syllable, unwavering in its intensity. "I will persist, undeterred by the ravages inflicted upon my body. It shall regenerate, as it has time and time again," he asserts, his voice resolute,

"But you, fragile beings of humanity, are far more vulnerable. A single piercing strike, your life is extinguished. One misstep, and your fate is irrevocably sealed. Therefore, tread cautiously upon the paths you choose, even if you boast confidence in your skills. Be mindful of the formidable capabilities others possess, ready to snuff out your precious existence. So, I offer you a word of advice: if you wish to continue your fragile existence, know your place."

Blade's warning hangs in the air, his words filled with a chilling reality that sends shivers down your spine. The weight of his grip presses against your neck, a stark reminder of his strength and the vulnerability of your mortal form.

After moments of scrutiny, Blade finally relinquishes his iron grip, allowing you to plummet gracelessly to the unforgiving floor below. As you lay there, wracked by fits of coughing, desperately gasping for the precious breath that eluded you moments ago, a wave of relief washes over you like a long-awaited reprieve. With every rasping inhalation, you slowly begin to restore the delicate equilibrium of your being.

As the tremors of the ordeal still course through your weakened body, you summon the remnants of your courage to meet Blade's piercing gaze. With an air of detached indifference, he retrieves his sword, his movements fluid and controlled. 

Without a word or a hint of emotion, Blade turns his back on you, his retreating figure a stark silhouette against the dimly lit surroundings. The weight of his presence lingers in the space between you, a testament to the enigmatic nature of his being. You watch as he fades into the shadows, his footsteps fading away like whispers in the night.

[rottencherrypie]

R-18+; On Display (Vampire!Thranduil x Human!Fem!Reader)

Summary - An "innocent" attempt to feed your thirst for attention leaves you on display for all of Mirkwood to see, it appears that y ou were not the only one thirsting for some attention...& possibly something more.

Warnings - Smut, language, female reader, afab reader, vampire!Thranduil (heavily implied), slight dark!Thranduil, possessive!Thranduil, brat!Reader. female genitalia (reader), male genitalia (Thranduil & Guard OC, brief), flirting (reader), Guard fancying Reader (heavily implied), name calling, pet names, praise kink, implied mind-control, voyeurism, fingering/masturbation, sex toys (pretend they exist in middle-earth), bondage, magical restraints(?), impact play (slapping), sensation play (Thranduil being physically cold), blind-folding (reader).

Pronouns & POV - She/Her, third-person-ish

Word Count - 6,000+

A/N - This is a chaotic mess, I apologize for it & the endless warnings for the first part…the next part may be a bit worse. I apologize if there is any grammar or anatomy errors, I use an online checker so it does miss a few things & I am genuinely awful at anatomy!

Read on AO3

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

The tips of your fingers delicately glid across each indentation upon the carvings within the chilled marbled pillars; the sight of small animals to massive dragons accompanied the smooth chill you felt beneath your fingertips. A sensation you had grown accustomed to during your stay with the peculiar elven king.

Though you often spent your days strolling through the twisted halls of Mirkwood, the sensation you had gotten accustomed to came from something far more exquisite than any art piece that adorned these very halls. The elven king himself,  Thranduil .

His hair shone as bright as molten gold, eyes as watchful and bright as the morning sky, overseeing all of the beings under his reign, and his skin as pale and cold as snow. His Majesty, Thranduil, was a sight for all to behold.

The first time you had witnessed his beauty, you believed it was all but a dream or rather a ghost. His beauty haunted your mind from the burning morning sky to the darkness of night. 

Though the sight of his beauty was nothing but a faint memory, it was utterly addictive. A wordless siren's call that sent every fiber of your being ablaze. 

The inextinguishable fire burned rampant within your heart as every waking hour became more tiresome with the sleepless nights refusing to end, the only cure to your mysterious illness far from where you stood.

A pull not only noticeable to you but to the elven king himself as well, what began as faint thoughts of you spiraled into an uncontrollable thirst for your return.

A thirst soon to be quenched the moment you stepped foot onto Mirkwood soil, your body under the unspoken pull's control as it puppeteered you into his majesty's sturdy arms.

The same arms that now tossed you aside each time you sought comfort within them, the elven king proclaimed that the endless amounts of work he sought out held the utmost importance over you. You, the one he once so desperately sought after but now cruelly ignored.

Thoughts on the unspoken pull the king had upon you came to a halt at the sound of a throat clearing, the tips of your fingers hovering over the delicate carvings while your head turned towards the direction of the faint sound.

"My lady." The fiery-haired elf lowered his head towards you, the title still feeling bizarre to you despite the endless amounts of times you had heard it.

" Please ," You began, nodding your head in his direction. "call me Y/N." The guard's eyes widened at the lack of formality. The king had so heavily enforced the title to the point few knew your name.

"My lady -erm , Y/N," The guard began, his eyes adverting from yours and onto the creaking floor beneath him. Shifting his weight from one covered foot to another. "his highness requests your presence in the dining hall." He continued, his eyes refusing to meet yours. The hue of his fiery hair spreading across his cheeks up to the tips of his pointed ears, odd.

"I see..." You began, your words trailing off due to the sudden shift in the guard's actions. The air grew tense as your eyes burned into the top of his lowered skull. "His highness  can wait . I have other matters I wish to attend to." The elf's eyes widened in shock as you began to step towards him.

"I apologize for the interruption. I shall let you be." The once sturdy husky voice began to waver as you moved closer towards him, the flesh of his cheeks burning brighter than any ruby bore from the earth as his gaze stayed glued onto the floor.

The wood beneath his feet creaked as he began to distance himself from you, the tips of his ears burning hot as you rushed after him. " Wait! " The boom of your voice ringing throughout the silent kingdom stalling the flustered guard in his place, his eyes quickly adverting from the cold floor beneath him and locking into your softened gaze.

"I mean,  erm, " The words momentarily stalled in the back of your throat as the light beneath your eyes began to dim. Though the elven guard did disrupt your mindless stream of thoughts, he could be a solution to your sudden problem. "Stay,  please . It is rather lonesome without his majesty to keep me company."

The pair of emerald eyes growing as large as dinner plates, the fire beneath the flesh of his cheeks running rampant as his eyes scanned over the rouge fabric that clung onto your heavenly form.

" My lady ," The guard began nervously; the faint clearing of his throat echoed throughout the silent halls as he momentarily stalled his words. "though I would be  honored  to be within your presence, I am required to report back to his majesty."

"Oh,  fuck his majesty ." The boom of your words echoing throughout the silent halls and quickly catching within a specific pair of sensitive ears. 

His mouth opened and closed as if he was a fish pulled fresh from the sea, the faint heat within the air growing tense as the sweet harmony of your words echoed throughout his empty skull. 

"His Majesty wishes for my happiness,  does he not? " An eyebrow arched in the direction of the stunned guard as you began to approach him, the loose golden embroidered fabric swaying with your hips with each step you took.

The blur of fiery hues caught your eye just as the faint clicks of covered feet rang within your ear.  Exactly as planned . "And right now, what would make me happy..." The sultry words stalled upon your plump lips as you finally stood before the man who once towered over you, the tips of your fingers delicately tracing the armor that shielded his toned chest from your view. "is  you . " 

The faint autumn hue of candlelight delicately caressed your features as your soft lips began to part, your gaze softening up at the stunned elf.

" I believe it would be best if you were to discuss this matter with his majesty. " The guard interjected, his voice wavering in fear as his eyes darted around the twisted halls. Fear of his emotions, fear of how he adored your actions, and fear of the elven king's wrath if he were to find out about this.

A scoff raised from the back of your throat as your eyes looped around your skull at the guard's innocent and fear-ridden suggestion. "I am afraid it is too late for that." Your lips pursing at the final word, the glide of your fingers shifted onto the smooth skin of his jaw.

"His Majesty would give me yet another poor explanation. It is far too late for explanations now" You continued to trace his defined features, the heat of your breath ghosting upon his face as you shifted your weight onto your forefeet. " especially when you are right here. " The tips of your fingers continued their trail upon the carved features, the guard lingering in silence as the waging war of his duties and desires rang throughout his empty mind.

Never in his lifetime had he ever dreamt of another's touch yet feared it so deeply, though he had once spent sleepless nights yearning from the warmth of your gentle touch; it now appeared to burn him the longer it lingered upon his features.

"And if I am correct, I believe you would be  happy  with that arrangement as well." The low purr of your words ringing throughout the silent kingdom, the corners of your plump lips curving upwards as the guard's face further matched the deep hue of your dress.

The warmth of a palm against his smooth skin sent a mindless shiver down his spine; the knot of words that had formed in the back of his throat from your previous actions swallowed down with an audible gulp while his shining emerald eyes bore into your burning gemstone pair.

The sight of lust and fear continuing to fight each other behind the light of the guard's eyes was almost enough to distract you from the rushed clicking sound of a familiar pair of covered feet approaching you.  Almost . 

"Be a dear and walk me back to my chambers?" The heat of your breath ghosted over his soft lips as he eased further into your touch, the spark within his eyes fading into the darkness of  lust  as your lips ghosted over each other,  only a breath apart .

" Y/N! " The hoarse boom caused the pair of you to knock the tops of your skulls into one another, the once steady pounding beneath your ribs going a flutter as a cold palm encased your shoulder. " Your majesty. " The soothing purr of his title escaping your pursed lips earned a snarl from the enraged king.

" What do you think you are doing?! " His grip upon your exposed shoulder tightening, the opposite hand quick to encase your chin with a tight squeeze. The ice-cold fingers dug into your cheeks, sending a familiar heat throughout your body and forcing a whimper out from the back of your throat.

The remaining light within his eyes evaporated at the pathetic sound, a sound he had yearned to hear again from the last moment it left your heavenly lips. 

" I -" The first syllable came out a high-pitched squeak as the chill of his hand lowered and now rested snuggly upon the smooth stones that laid upon your neck, the stones  he  gifted you. "I was simply holding a conversation before returning to my chambers,  your majesty ." 

" A conversation? " His voice dripped with amusement as the corners of his lips curved upwards into a knowing grin, the pressure against your neck easing for a moment. 

"The one where you said  fuck his majesty ?!" The thump of your heavy furs falling onto the wood floor accompanied his booming rage throughout the silent halls, the chill of the same marble you once admired embracing your back as his grip tightened around your throat.

A soft chuckle escaped the back of his throat as he felt your pulse quicken within his grasp, a faint glimmer of fear that flashed in the back of your eyes as your own words rang within your skull.  

"You would like that, wouldn't you,  you  pathetic slut ? " He breathed into your neck. The sweet metallic scent of what lingered beneath your soft skin, taunting him more than your foolish actions towards the pathetic guard. "To be stuffed full of cock, on display for anyone to watch what a  pathetic  slut you are." The hiss of his words made your eyes mindlessly loop around your skull,  another empty threat, or  was it?

The pressure upon your neck tightened, the cold backings of the gems pressing further into your neck, the air within your lungs emptying with an audible gasp. "Wouldn't you,  slut ?" The blurred hue of your head was a quick reply to the snarl that echoed throughout his kingdom.

Though the pressure upon your neck was close to overwhelming, the faint pressure upon your shoulder eased as his cold fingers began to trail down the exposed flesh of your arms onto the silk that shielded your heavenly frame from the hungry eyes before you.

"Either you answer now,  pet , or it will be your screams answering for you.  Your choice. " Your plump lips barely had the chance to part before you felt the soft glide of your skirts shifting. Any hope of speaking a single word died upon your tongue the moment you felt the chilling glide of slender fingers caressing your dampened inner thighs.

The ice-cold tips of his fingers a breath away from the aching heat of your cunt, any breath that could reach your lungs halting within the back of your throat as you waited for that heavenly stretch and pressure to enter you.  And it  finally  did .

The  freezing  stretch within your warm cunt sent a shiver down your spine, the weight of your head falling back against the chilled marble behind you exposing more of your neck to his equally cold glare.

The lids of your gemstone-colored eyes fluttered shut as the cold burn delved further into your dampened cunt, his slender fingers hooking upwards within your walls, earning a pleased groan from his thin lips.

His frozen gaze began to thaw as the warmth of your cunt continued to heat his fingers, his eyes rapidly shifting between the glorious sight of his fingers glistening as they slid out of you and the flesh you further exposed amongst your pleasure. The sweet metallic scent filled the air alongside the squelching melody caused by his majesty's fingers roaming your aching cunt.

" Such a  good  slut ," He purred; the slow glide of his slender fingers backing out of your cunt allowed for a soft whimper to slip out of your parted lips. “and you want to be a good slut for me.  Don't you? " "Always, sir, just please- Fuck! " Any chance to plead for pleasure disappeared as the heavenly cold pressure within you returned, the once achingly slow pace replaced with the burning rush of his fingers sliding inside of you with ease. 

A pleased gasp escaped your mouth as the corners of your plump lips began to curve upwards as your elven lover continued the steady movements within your drenched core. Though the lids of your eyes remained shut, they began to tilt towards the back of your skull as the cold flesh curved upwards inside of you, softly grazing over that sensitive spot deep within you.

The thick heat within the air came to a halt as a sudden creak of covered feet shifting accompanied the squelching and stifled moans that danced within the heavy air. " Stay! " His harsh voice boomed alongside the slap of his palm against your bare cunt, his cold fingers slamming deep into  that  spot, sending a spark of electricity throughout your body. 

The worrisome pair of emerald eyes quickly darting between the heavenly sight and the enraged gaze of his king. How your hair fell upon your face, the sheen of sweat that formed upon your forehead, the way your chest rose and fell with each pleasurable thrust within you, the way your plump lips parted as if pleading for his to grace them, and the heavenly sight of your drenched cunt taking his fingers with ease. 

A view he had often dreamt of but with himself replacing the king, one he attempted to convince himself he did not enjoy as much as he did. But the growing tent within the restraints of his pants told a different tale than the one his fear-ridden gaze gave.

"You have yet to be dismissed so,  stay ," The king paused, his fingers ramming into your cunt yet again, allowing a loud moan to grace the tense air. "and enjoy the  show ." He scoffed at the guard, his nostrils flaring with rage as he curled his fingers into that incredible spot deep within you with a squelch. He had almost forgotten about  that damned  pest .

The rough pace of his hand grew sloppier as your prior actions scolded his mind. How the light within your eyes grew as you looked up at him, the way your fingers delicately traced each imperfection upon his muscular arms, and how your lips ghosted over his with  that  damned smile. 

Each action that repeated within his mind earned a mindless thrust from his frozen hand, small waves of electricity roaming throughout your body as the bitter air nipped at the flesh on display for all to see.

The harsh cold thrusts make a familiar knot form within the pit of your stomach and heat to burn within the flesh of your cheeks. An all too familiar yet strange feeling, though you had felt the sensation  many  times before, there was something  different  knowing a new set of eyes was watching you unravel due to your lover's actions.  And your lover could feel it too .

It was not just a change in you,  though you were as drenched as a bitch in heat , but a change within him as well. For too long had he dreamt of a day where he could prove you were  his  and  only his . The mindless chatter which spread throughout his subjects upon your beauty had quickly grown tiresome to the selfish king, though he adored having you worshiped;  he  was the only one that could fully  worship  you and  how he got to  prove it now .

Each rough thrust of his slender fingers earned a desperate whine slipping out of your soft lips, a familiar tingle spreading up from the very tips of your toes throughout your body as he continued to manipulate your inner walls with ease. His grip upon your neck loosened ever so slightly as his thumb began to circle upon that sensitive bundle of nerves.

"I forgot how  pretty  you look when I pleasure you." He purred into the crook of your neck. The speed within your chest began to quicken at the soft vibrations against your neck. His lips were quick to latch around an inch of flesh; his thumb quickened the sloppy pattern upon your clit as his fingers continued to delve within you.

Your toes began to curl at the familiar electric tingle that spread throughout every atom of your being, the sound of their breaths fading away into static as you firmly grasped at his wrist. The cool flesh within the heat of your palm was the only sensation that weighed you down into reality as everything began to fade away.

All seemed right within the world as you zoned in on the thrusting sensation within you: how your walls stretched around his fingers with ease, the cooling burn which caused your body to start to tremble, and the symphonic slap of the small of his flesh meeting yours until it suddenly stalled. The chilling slide of his fingers exiting your desperate cunt made you sigh with annoyance, the lids of your gemstone-colored eyes flying open when the symphonic slap returned.

Though this time, the slap was  different . The boom of his hand against your bare flesh echoed throughout the halls, each slap against your aching cunt harsher than the previous one. Your widened gemstone-colored eyes bore down into his mischievous sapphire ones, his face rising from your neck, leaving the faint bruise from his lips behind.

"Be a  good slut  and show us how pretty you look when you cum." The dark abyss of pleasure was quick to welcome you at the final slap of his chilled palm, every atom of your heavenly being vibrating as pathetic mewls slipped through your lips. Your body jolted forwards into the sudden soft graze of cold flesh against yours, the smooth flesh of his fingertips softly trailing the dampened skin of your inner thighs.

The faint pressure upon your neck eased, allowing the cool air to grace your lungs, your uneven breaths slowly growing steady as your weight leaned back into the chilled marble. 

What happened mere moments ago fuzzily replayed within your lust-stricken mind while their hungry pairs of eyes continued to roam your exposed body, a sight to be forever burnt into their skulls during the darkest of nights.

"It truly is a shame," The low voice began as he backed away from your trembling form, the faint click of his covered feet echoing throughout the silent halls. "you looked  so good  tonight as well." He tsked, the elven king slowly circling you like a wolf to its prey.

" What do you mean? " The words hovered on your lips for a moment before finally slipping through, a shiver running down your spine as you attempted to keep the enraged king within your line of sight. 

The tips of his cold fingers suddenly rested under your chin furthered the chill that roamed your body, a wolfish grin spreading upon his thin lips as his hypnotic gaze centered on you.

"It is far too late for explanations now.  Isn't it ,  pet ?" The venomous slap of your words being thrown back at you made your blood run cold. Your once glazed-over eyes widened with shock as your mouth began to open, lips flailing like a fish pulled fresh from the sea as syllables rose in the back of your throat, but nothing came out.

"Now, be a good slut and go to my chambers." He hummed, the faint sting of his palm coming into contact with your cheek forcing you to gulp down the bitter air. Despite the warning hiss of his voice, your body remained motionless, the endless chatter of static in your ears gaining more attention than your annoyed lover.

The mindless gaze that bore into his pale eyes added further fuel to the fire within his stomach. Though your lover adored the way that  desperate  look would spread across your  pathetic  little face,  him partly wishing that look would never leave your face , he knew that each moment you lingered was another moment  that  guard would take in your heavenly form. 

  How he wished he could  gouge his eyes out  for even thinking of looking at you .

"Unless you wish to give your little  friend  a longer performance, I suggest you get moving." The hypnotic gaze narrowed down on your trembling form, each fiber of your being screamed at you to move, yet you remained still. " NOW! "

His nostrils flared as the steady fire within his stomach began to burn ablaze, your unwavering stubbornness even under the depths of his spell raging war within him. Thoughts of shoving you onto the wooden floor and fucking you upon it growing all too tempting except for one fact,  he  was still there. Still gasping in glory at your exposed skin with his cock throbbing inside of his pants.

" Fine ." He snarled as he scooped you into his arms, tossing you over his shoulder with ease before making his steady descent down the halls. His stern gaze burned holes into the uneasy elf's skull, the pair of emerald eyes continued to mindlessly burn holes into the silk fabric that now barely kept your skin hidden from their lustful gaze.

The moment his actions had finally processed within your lust-drunken mind, the sound of your exasperated yelps began to bounce throughout the marble-adorned halls. 

Your gemstone-colored eyes pleading with each guard you gazed upon as the enraged king continued to carry you away, yet they knew better than the one you toyed with, though they would slyly look upon your exposed flesh,  none would act upon their mindless desires .

" Be quiet ." The king snarled slowly, his grip upon your lower back tightening as he stormed down the wooden stairs. The air grew heavier as you inched closer to his chambers, the blood within your veins pounding as a weary knot formed within your stomach.

The low clicks of his covered heels quickly became the only sound that bounced upon the massive wooden walls as he crept further down the stairs, the faint golden hue of fire burning within the background catching your gaze that darted from one wall to the other.

"I gave you the chance to be  good , but it appears you cannot even do that." He huffed, tossing you onto the luxurious bed, the mattress creaking slightly under the new weight. Your palms slid upon the sheets beneath you, the smooth silk and nervous sweat that had formed upon your palms forcing you to sink further back onto the plush bed.

" I- " " I do not want to hear it! " The king snapped, your words quickly swallowed down with a nervous gulp as you watched the enraged man pace throughout the massive room. Though he was furious beyond belief, he looked as stunning as ever.

The way his pale sapphire eyes narrowed as they darkened with rage, how his jaw tightened as he took another flared breath through his nose, and the way the cold air would grow burning hot as he walked by with each muscle in his body tensed. A sight you had only witnessed a handful of times before, each time leaving you yearning to take in the oddly alluring view once again.

" Strip. " The hypnotic word was quick to bring you back from your lustful daze. A word having far too much yet, too little power over you as every muscle within your form froze, your mind racing fast enough to beat his elk in a race, yet part of you still resisted it.  Resisted  him .

A resistance not due to lack of attraction,  your attraction to the mysterious being was far too evident to deny , but one out of  spite . The small voice inside of you screamed at the other who desperately begged you to follow the command, images of yourself under the godlike man flooding into your mind, yet the first voice stayed in control. 

Her anger towards the endless nights of being denied his presence, let alone the sweet release only he could bring you, competed with the pure rage that stormed within him.  And he knew it .

Each time he would wander inside of your emptied mind, he would run into  her . The damned  brat  within you who gave you the idiotic plan though he despised her for it,  he could never truly get enough of it .

She was the mischievous twinkle that flashed within your eyes as he told you not to do something, the giggle that would slip through your lips which taunted him to chase after you, and the intoxicating scent that would linger upon his robes; the mindless ghost that deepened his  thirst  for you.  His  need  for you .

The loud tear of your silk gown was quick to pull the pair of you out of your mutual daze, the crimson red fabric falling onto the floor with a faint thud as the cold air nipped at your exposed flesh. " I told you to strip. " His voice dripped with annoyance; each word emphasized as it momentarily hung onto his lips before the other.

The faint blur of a new hue of red had barely registered within the corner of your eye as your lover shoved you further onto the plush bed. Your arms tossed above your head before you could process what was happening, the smooth pressure of silk restraints dug into the delicate flesh of each wrist, the backs of your hands resting against the wooden frame.

Your ankles quickly followed behind as they were both strapped onto the matching ends of the frames with the sturdy silk ribbons, ribbons that dug into your flesh as you proceeded to twist and tug at the newfound restraints. 

"Struggling will get you nowhere,  pet ." He stated coldly, his palms lingering over your heavenly form for a mere moment before pulling away as if the heat of your flesh had burnt him.

"The more you squirm, the tighter the ribbons become." He hummed, the sight of his pale golden locks taking up your view as he strolled towards his massive oak bureau.

The pale painted with golden embellishments; swirls of gold danced around the edges as the handles shimmered with matching stones of the ones that laid upon your neck. Outside of the lush bed you now laid upon, it was the one piece of furniture that would cause your heart and stomach to flutter a little as you walked past it each morning. 

Not due to what you had done on it,  nearly every spot within the secure walls had a similar tale to his bed , but rather what  lingered  within it.

A familiar mechanical hum quickly brought your attention back onto his stoic face; the familiar sight of the rouge silicone vibrating inside of his grip made you gulp down a breath of air. Inside of the opposite hand, a thick strand of silk matched the toy in hue. Something that remained unknown to you as your sight focused on the squirming silicone.

"There are some matters that need to be attended to," He began, the faint click of his heels echoing throughout the tense air. The low hum of the vibrator grew louder with each step he took towards you, the flesh between your thighs dampening. "and you have proven that you cannot be trusted to be left alone."

The sudden contact of the smooth tip against your aching clit caused you to writhe against the restraints, your lower body briefly arching into the soothing sensation only to have it pulled away before any pleasure could form. The brief tingle within the tips of your toes subsided as your lower lip stuck out ever so slightly into a pout.

"I expect you to be good while I am away." The silk beneath you shifted ever so slightly underneath the slight weight of the vibrating silicone, the sound inching closer towards you yet moving away before it could wiggle its way into your grasp. "Though it appears that may be too much to expect from you." 

The chilled tips of his fingers gently gliding over your burning flesh sent a shiver down your spine as your line of sight was suddenly restricted by the dimmed red hue. Your eyebrows rose in confusion as the silk glid across the upper bridge of your nose, momentarily allowing you a brief peek at the stoic king who simply tightened the shield upon your face.

The chill of his cold hand gliding down your face made you writhe further against the silk restraints, the starlight gems pressing into the flesh of your neck as his chilled fingers delicately danced upon them.

"When you  finally  accepted these gems,  my  gems," He began, his voice deepening as the memory of that day replayed within his mind. The image of your shocked face had permanently burnt into his mind. 

The way your eyes widened and sparkled with excitement as waves of sheepiness splashed within the back of your gemstone eyes and how you shyly slid them back into his cold hand while offering a small smile denying his gift. The innocent action unknowingly furthered his pull towards you, h is  need  for you .  And the king always got what he wanted, after all;  who would deny the king of his rights?

"you accepted that  you are mine,  pet ." The chill of his fingertips graced the exposed flesh upon your neck before starting their trail down your revealed figure; each inch of your flesh received a kiss of his fingers as he traced each curve your heavenly form held before gliding onto the next.

The sight of your bare flesh was a glance into heaven to the otherworldly man; the steady pace of which your chest rose and fell was a glimpse of peace, serenity, and calm before the pure corruption the damned soul caused. 

Oh, how he  loved  to bask in the sight of your  corruption . 

The mechanical hum grew louder for a moment within his cold grasp; your previous actions to grasp onto the smooth silicone appeared to be for nothing as the vibrations began to fade into the distance.  Or so you thought .

The sudden faint pressure and tingling sensation of the smooth tip against your sensitive bundle of nerves forced a loud gasp to slip through your plump lips, your toes curling at the sudden pleasure as your hands now grasped tightly onto your restraints.

"We shall discuss your punishment when I return." He paused, memories of your prior  punishments  burning within the back of his mind. Those heavenly memories he would often replay in private now haunted him as thoughts of your wrongdoings began to trickle in,  damned brat .

The once low hum of the steady silicone quickly increased alongside its speed with the gentlest of clicks from his slender fingers against the soft buttons, the once unraveled knot within your stomach began to twist and tie yet again as his pale sapphire eyes bore into your bare body.

Each slight movement of your body was simultaneously heaven and hell within his lustful eyes. The part of him which desired to throw away his anger to claim you as you both had craved almost overwhelmed his mind as your toes began to curl further, the crown of your head tossed back into the silk pillows as your mouth flew open. But he stuck to his word,  damn his stubbornness.

The faint click of his covered feet steadily became softer with each moan that slipped through your plump lips; whether that was due to the volume of your voice or the quick pace of his stride, you would never know. But you were aware he was entirely gone the moment you no longer felt the chilling caress of his stern gaze upon your heavenly flesh.

The air steadily grew heavier with each loud hum that bounced throughout the room, the melodic siren call of your moan quick to follow and dance within all the ears within the secretive kingdom.

Your mind had slowly begun to drift away from the pleasure the silicone had brought to you onto the punishments your cold lover had in mind. The corners of your agape mouth curved upwards ever so slightly as the ties within your stomach began to stir with the newfound endless possibilities.

──────

The symphony of your melodic moans danced within the sensitive pair of ears, the previous images of your lustful body still brunt freshly within his depraved mind.

His breath caught within the back of his throat as his emerald eyes began to dim, the restraints of his pants tightening further while he shifted his weight from one foot to another. The thought of him finally being released from his position accompanied another form of  release  in overwhelming his mind;  the things he would imagine doing to you when he was finally alone-

" Your majesty! " The familiar clink of covered feet against the creaking floor quickly pulled the lustful elf's mind back into reality, a twisted one he both despised and adored as you were within it but, you were not  his .

"Just the guard I was looking for," He began, his pale sapphire eyes burning holes within the head of fiery hues. The heavy air filled within your pathetic mewls and moans as the enraged predator continued to circle his prey. "I require your service."

The blur of the quick-moving king's hand barely caught within the lust-filled emerald eyes as he continued to circle the anxious guard, the harsh gaze of the hungry beast within slowly sizing up his competition.

Though the guard towered over him,  barely  might the king mind you , it was enough to throw further fuel within the belly of the enraged beast.  Out of all his idiotic subjects, you had to choose  him ,  the only one taller than him .

" My chambers ." The words hovered upon his curved lips for a moment as he stalled in front of the wavering guard, his face scrunching upwards ever so slightly at the thought of lingering within these damned restraints any further.

"Be there at once.  Do not disappoint me ." He continued backing away from him. The low hiss of the king's words barely had a chance to process within the other lust-filled mind as the blur of icy hair had made its way down the hall leaving the guard with nothing but curiosity and yearning for more of what he had witnessed mere moments before. 

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Next Part >

[aurabird]

Tainted Blood

Joel doesn’t believe in the demon, going as far as to ignore him entirely. But the Mezalean King’s defiance isn’t what draws Xornoth to him...but something dark and violent, a thirst for blood that cannot be quenched.

What use could a desire so strong be when mixed with corruption?

Tw: I think just blood/violence and corruption for this one.

Also on Ao3

-------------------

Joel struggled against the chains binding him with a frustrated growl. It was obvious that he was in a dungeon of some sort as a prisoner given the way he was being restrained; arms above his head and his legs to the floor. Who would possibly have the audacity to capture him like this?

“Very funny guys. I’m not laughing, you can come out now and free me.” he shouted to no one in particular.

That is when he heard footsteps, his attention being drawn to the sound in time to see Sausage enter the room. The Mythland king wore attire in various grey shades, a black cape fastened around his shoulders by a ruby trailed behind him as he walked with calculated strides.

The outfit change wasn’t the only new thing Joel noticed about the king, black veins webbed across the man’s visible flesh in vine-like patterns, a faint crimson glow pulsating from them. Sausage turned to look at him, piercing red eyes only made more sinister by the same black veins on his face.

“Joel, good to see you’ve finally awoken!” he said with a grin that was far too sharp and a tone of voice that was only slightly off in normalcy.

“Sausage, what is this? I don’t have time for your silly games right now!”

“Games? Joel you wound me. If anyone has been playing games it has been you taunting Lord Xornoth.”

“That’s what this is about? As far as I am concerned the demon doesn’t exist, just some big elaborate prank someone is playing on all of us that we are falling for.”

Suddenly, Sausage was directly in front of him, the sharp grin still crossing their face “Ah, that’s right, he mentioned how you have been ignoring and irritating him.” the Mythland king took a few steps back before continuing, “But that’s why you’re here, he’s going to make sure you can’t ignore him anymore.”

Joel felt a shiver go down his spine at how calm and deathly serious those words were said. “He doesn’t scare me, Sausage, and neither do you.”

“We’ll see about that, King Joel. Yes we will.” came a distorted voice from everywhere in the room at once, the speaker soon materializing before the Mezalean king in a puff of smoke. Their skin was ebony in color, veins very similar to those on Sausage’s own skin covered every inch of their body and the sinister horns growing from their head were constantly pulsating purple and crimson underneath the shadows that slithered around them. A wicked grin stretched across their face, mouth not moving despite saying words.

“Leave us, Champion.” the entity that was definitely not a demon in any way ordered, dismissing the Mythland king with a wave of a clawed hand.

“Of course my lord.” he replied with a bow before taking his leave, the sound of stone grinding against stone was heard as a door closed behind him, leaving Joel alone with the entity.

“So, Xornoth right? Sausage claims you’re going to keep me from ignoring you.” Joel began with a bored, condescending tone in his voice.

“While that is true, your defiance isn’t what perked my interest in you, there is something else...something dark inside your soul that I am quite curious about. I believe you call it bloodlust?”

“What about it?”

“I find it something worth studying further.”

The chains binding Joel unlocked with unspoken command, causing him to slump to the ground where crimson tendrils were quick to coil around his limbs, preventing any struggle or movement as they held him against the cold floor.

The sound of a sword being dragged across stone drew his attention, Xornoth holding the blade in his hand, “What triggers it I wonder? Is it the sight of blood or the lack thereof?” Joel didn’t get to reply as the demon cut into his left arm, allowing crimson to poor freely from the wound.

  He ran through the forest, the wolves at his heels howling as they bayed for the blood of their prey, Joel giving a wicked grin as the desire to kill urged him forwards. He could hear them in the distance, the King and his Hand fleeing for their lives.

“THE RED KING DIES TONIGHT FELLAS!” he cackled with sadistic glee, a look of madness in his red eyes as they entered the war-torn remains of a desert.

  The scene faded as quickly as it began, Joel’s body shaking like a leaf in fear at what he’d just seen. He’d witnessed that moment countless times over in his nightmares, but never whilst awake.

Xornoth’s smile grew at the sight of the man’s fear, “Guess you aren’t as fearless as you like to believe.” he said.

Joel snarled, “Sh-Shut up. You know nothing about me!”

“I know you deny my existence and infuriate me with your defiance. I know of your bond with the Ocean Queen and the Codfather...”

“Don’t you dare lay a hand on either of them!”

His threat was ignored as the demon chuckled “Oh, I won’t. But you will.”

Agony coursed through Joel’s body at those words, a cry tearing from his throat as his skin burned where the crimson tendrils made contact with it.

  His foot nicked the fiery liquid pouring from above, an ember quickly setting his pants ablaze and causing him to panic. He scrambled as fast as he could to get over the stone brick wall and into the swamp water he knew lay beyond it.

In his act of desperation he got caught up in a lava stream which trapped his legs in sheer agony as it wasted no time incinerating flesh, his vision going black from the pain, a mercy from one of the most painful deaths.

Green eyes bore into his brown ones as the girl glared at him with a satisfied grin, the flames licking the walls of his house out of revenge casting a shadow on her decaying body and torn clothes.

The flames danced around him as he panicked to try and put them out, but to no avail, once more his body was consumed by an inferno.

  Joel’s eyes snapped open as he was brought back to reality, his gaze quickly locking onto the black webs slowly creeping up his arms from where they came in contact with the crimson tendrils.

Everything burned as the corruption spread through him, taking control of his motor functions and causing him to cease his struggling.

The demon's maniac laughter echoed throughout the room almost taunting him. Anger flared in his chest and the sight of blood staining stone from where he’d been sliced with a sword fueled a desire to kill.

His vision turned red as a haze began to wrap around his mind, but Joel didn’t fight it, the bloodlust was familiar and welcoming to him...but why there was also something different about it this time?

He had no time to question it as soon, Joel’s thoughts were no longer his own and the pain faded. The Mezalean King’s now-red eyes burned brightly as he looked up to meet those of his master, a twisted smile curving on his lips before he spoke.

“What do you wish me to do to them, Lord Xornoth?”

[littlemisskookie]

Langour

Langour Ship: Hoseok | Reader Description: Hoseok’s got a lust-driven thirst for his step sister. Warning: Step-Siblings!AU, Incest Sorta? Impregnation Kink, Somnophilia, PWP, Dub-Con? Dirty Talk, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Oral, Fingering, Intercourse, Handjob Word Count: 3,387 A/N: I’m sooooo going to hell for this I’ve never seen anyone write this particular kink s h i t.

There's an unspoken but clear rule that everyone knows about family- and one that Hoseok seemed to have broken.

Family doesn't look at family with lust.

More precisely, Hoseok happened to look at his sister with lust. Even more precisely, his step-sister.

Sure, it wasn't incest- but considering the fact that you two lived together and shared the same parents, it was wrong nonetheless. He couldn't help it, though- it was as though you were enticing him with your mere presence.

Hoseok hadn't thought too much about when his father's girlfriend said yes to the proposal. He was happy for his father actually- the man had been lonely and sad ever since Hoseok's mother died years ago. He had never seen his old man so happy. He liked the new woman anyway- she was very liberal and down to Earth, being open-minded.

He didn't think much either when he found out she had a daughter.

"Eleanore's got a daughter about your age, you know," his father commented after a few dates with said Eleanore. Hoseok was a mere teenager at the time, at the peak of his hormones and being flooded with school work. It wasn't as though he had much time to think about the possibility of a step-sister.

But when you moved in... that's when things changed.

You were fun to be around, but he could never quite get comfortable with you. Sure, he was at ease, but it wasn't familial ease. It wasn't even quite the friend-type of ease- there seemed to always be a tension between you two, so thick it could be cut with a knife. He had a feeling you could sense it, too. It wasn't that you two weren't fond of each other- it was the opposite.

It was as though Hoseok had fallen into a trap. He was a teenager, it was natural for him to be horny and lustful over any girl his age who wasn't related to him by blood. It didn't help when you snuck out of the shower, hair slicked back and wet, water droplets rolling down your skin, and a small towel pressed daintily against your body. Or when he'd call you down for dinner only to see you prancing around in your ridiculously short shorts, and on occasion, underwear.

He remembered what shame he felt when he clasped his hand over his mouth, biting down on his fist as he jerked off to the memory of you pinned down by another man against the wall, his chest pressed against yours so tightly that your toes barely grazed the ground. Hoseok felt seething jealousy- though he disguised it instead as brotherly anger. He had marched himself over to the two of you, shoving the guy off of you. "Get away from my little sister" and bullshit like that. Though he's never thought of you as a sister. Not once.

What made him stop in his tracks, lungs constricted from oxygen, is when he turned around to face you, his nostrils flaring and his eyes practically bulging out of their eye sockets. Your lipstick was smeared, lips swollen and cheeks rosy. Your eyes had a blown out appearance to them, practically black with how dilated they were. Your hooded gaze had fallen onto Hoseok, and at that moment he felt as though someone had knocked all of the air out of his body.

"You should stay away from creeps like that, Y/N," Hoseok scolded, chastising you. "Hell, isn't that the guy who's been sliding into your DMs? What do you want with a jerk like that? What do you see in him, anyway?"

You simply gave him a sultry look, a smirk on your lips as you gave him that innocent shrug. "I guess I just like guys who take what they want."

God, how those words sent Hoseok ablaze. He was always the kind of guy who respected women- respected anyone, really. He didn't cross boundaries and was cautious and tenacious. He considered himself a feminist and was disgusted with some of the acts he'd hear about on the news and such.

However, he had never suspected a woman would actually like that behavior. Maybe it was the confidence of it all that had you attracted to it, but it left him hard in the middle of the night, only able to jerk off to the sight of your swollen and glossy lips along with your dangerous gaze. Fuck, and to think you were peacefully sleeping on the other side of the wall, your rooms connected to one another.

He could forgive himself for that, though. He was a teenager- it was bound to happen to a degree, especially since he never considered you a sister.

But now he was an adult.

And he still wanted to fuck your brains out.

God, if his stepmother and father knew, they'd shit a brick. He had no doubt you knew, though. You'd tease him, often, it seems. Your smile was too coy to be innocent, brushing against him as you passed by, your ass pressed against his crotch. You'd grin from ear to ear whenever you'd ask him to hold onto your waist and balance you as you tried to reach something on the top shelf, on your tiptoes as you balanced on a stool. Hoseok would always try to look down, your short and inviting skirt giving him glimpses of the black lace you wore underneath. It took a lot of self-control for him to keep himself from throwing himself at you whenever you strutted about the house in the skimpiest clothes you could find. You'd meet his glares with sharp giggles.

What a tease.

There was one night, though, when it all snapped. You two were watching a movie. Your parents have fallen asleep due to their older age. You had a habit of snuggling against him, as though for warmth, but Hoseok always felt so tense. He couldn't imagine you actually felt comfortable.

There was a certain scene in the movie where the man had snuck into the woman's room, feeling her up and kissing against her neck as she slept.

Hoseok grimaced. "Isn't that... wrong?"

What a stupid question.

You shrugged in response, your eyes trained on the glowing screen. "I dunno- I think it's kind of hot."

Hoseok tensed at that, his muscles tight. "What about that is hot? It's sexual assault."

"It's called somnophilia, Hoseok. Look it up. And I wouldn't want just anyone to do it to me- I'd kick them in the face. I think I'd be ok with it, though, if it were someone I trusted."

"To each their own, I suppose," Hoseok murmured quietly. He had never pictured you as the type to have a kink or fetish like that, but you still managed, to this day, to surprise him. As he thought about it, too, he could picture how you could get turned on from the idea. He didn't think he'd feel comfortable with putting his dick in an unconscious person, though.

Hoseok's breath hitched when he felt your hand on his knee. You were hesitant, waiting a few seconds to observe his response through the light of the people having sex onscreen. "You know I trust you, right?"

Hoseok didn't know how to respond to what you were insinuating. However, you dismissed that worry from his mind, as though knowing he wouldn't want to directly answer.

You sat up, stretching your arms as your mouth went agape. Letting out a yawn, you rubbed your sleepy eyes. "I think I'm gonna hit the sack. Night, Hobi."

Hoseok watched you walk away, his eyes trailing after you, gaze firmly planted on your rear as you sauntered out of sight. He couldn't believe what had just happened, and as his mind filled with ideas and questions, he looked down only to realize that his body had also reacted to the vixen that was you.

Shit.

Needless to day, Hoseok was restless that night. He tossed and turned in bed, unable to so much as close his eyes. Why was it you had this effect on him? Why you, of all people? Why did he have to be so goddamn attracted to his step-sister? It was driving him mad.

He debated in his head whether to do something about it and finally sleep with you, or to pretend as though it never happened.

He was starting to seriously consider the former when he heard something.

His name.

Someone from the other side of the wall was moaning his name. Your voice rang out, light and airy, and though there was no doubt your sleeping parents wouldn't be able to hear, Hoseok sure as hell did.

His name spilled from your mouth in breathy moans, small groans and whimpers tumbling out, and Hoseok strained to hear. It was as though he were possessed, getting up from his bed to open the door to your room, though it was already slightly ajar. He had suspected something like you masturbating with a vibrator or toy in hand, but instead, he found you sound asleep, your body moving reactively to whatever wet dream you were having.

You were having wet dreams about Jung fucking Hoseok.

He felt his throat get tight, and though he was undeniably aroused at the moment, he wanted to deny the temptation. He couldn't- you were asleep- he was your brother-

"I guess I just like guys who take what they want."

Hoseok felt as though he wasn't even in control of his own actions at this point. He found himself climbing into bed, slithering between your legs, and his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties.

This is wrong, this is so wrong, he thought to himself as he slid them down your legs, throwing them to the side. He was about to get up to leave when you gave another moan.

"Fuck, Hoseok, please, please touch me."

He felt his hard-on throb with need at that, and he took in a deep breath, your wetness and feminine scent clouding his train of thought. Slowly he slid down to lay on his belly, his head between your thighs as he pushed them further apart. He could see your pussy barely glistening in the dark, and he felt as though he were a starved man tempted with delicacies before him. There was no other accurate description.

Tentatively, he licked a stripe up your glistening cunt, the sweet flavor of your slick on his tastebuds making him want to devour you whole. His eyes rolled back, and despite the fact he had gotten a mere taste, he felt as though he were in heaven. This was enough jerk off material for years, no doubt about that. You tasted too goddamn sweet.

He licked you again, spreading you with two fingers as the flat of his tongue pressed against your clit. You mewled, writhing beneath him, your thighs tensing at his sides. He found himself gradually getting firmer as you coated his tongue, the greedy muscle occasionally dipping into your sopping hole. His lips pressed and kissed the folds, tongue causing wet, lewd, and sloppy sounds to fill the room. He enjoyed how your moans would get low and more groan-like at that, and when his tongue twirled around your clit you would become more breathy and whimper-like.

You began to tense more as his tongue lashed out, becoming more punishing with how loud your moans were. Chanting his name, he couldn't get enough. He slipped two fingers into your glistening heat, a come-hither motion making it easy for him to find your g-spot. You were unraveling, your thighs clamping together around his head as you felt yourself come undone, a violent orgasm wrecking throughout your body as Hoseok continued his harsh motions, the searing pain as he continued causing undeniable pleasure.

When you came down from your high, your body went limp, your skin glistening with sweat. Hoseok saw your eyes peer down at his, your chest rising and falling with each deep breath you took, your mind dazed from drowsiness and the lust-filled haze.

Hoseok kept his eyes locked with yours before pressing his tongue flat against your clit, toying with the swollen nub once more. You cringed from overstimulation, hands flying down to grasp onto his locks as your thighs instinctively locked him in. "Mmf, Hoseok."

Hoseok gave you one more strong lick, enjoying how you shuddered beneath him, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. He came up, between your legs as he caged you between his arms, the lower half of his face glistening with your juices. "Did you have a nice dream, Y/N?"

You nodded slowly, looking at him with hooded eyes. He was shirtless at the moment, wearing nothing but sweatpants. You reached out, palming the prominent bulge beneath the fabric. "Do you even have to ask?"

Hoseok grinned at that, his eyes darkening as he saw you waiting intently, eyes peering up at him as though to wonder what his next move will be. "You came pretty hard, there. What will Mom and Dad say to know I'm corrupting my little sister?"

"Why don't you corrupt me further?" you questioned, spreading your legs alluringly, your pulsating heat beckoning to him once more. "You still need to be taken care of."

"Fucking shit," Hoseok hissed as you pulled his dick out from beneath his sweatpants and briefs, stroking him slowly. You stopped for a moment to reach down, swiping your fingers through your copious arousal and twirling the little nub, moaning a bit. Your fingers dipped into your puckered hole, coating the small digits further in your arousal and the leftover result of your previous orgasm. You slid your fingers back up, swiping them through the folds and letting them graze over your clit before you wrapped the hand back around Hoseok's cock, your juices mixing along with the pearls of precum that circled the tip of Hoseok's cock.

"We could've been doing this years ago if you weren't so scared," you whispered, cocking your head to the side. "I've waited long enough. I can't wait for you to wreck me."

He moaned, shuddering as you continued to prep him, lubricating him thoroughly. He swiped your hand away quickly, however, wanting to get to the real deal. "I'm gonna fucking destroy you, baby. No other man will be able to perfectly wreck you the way I will."

"Fuck me, big brother," you said, arching your back and lifting your hips in the air so your entrance can meet with the tip of his cock. You circled your hips in the air enticingly before Hoseok grabbed onto your hips, slamming you back down into the mattress as he pushed inside of you.

Both of you moaned as your walls enveloped around him, and you hissed at the delicious burn of his cock stretching your walls further. He began to move, bucking his hips against yours as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He kept himself above you, his elbows acting as his support as he was careful not to crush you. It was good that he was caging you in, however, because the velocity of his thrusts threatened to have your head bang against the headboard. There was no doubt there'd be bruises on your pelvis by the time this was over.

Your feet reached towards the sky, heels to heaven as you arched your back beneath him. Hoseok licked against your neck, collecting the salt, as though his tongue was a paintbrush and your skin was the canvas. You grabbed onto his face to eagerly mash his mouth against yours, tongues twirling together in a sloppy kiss. You could still taste remnants of yourself on his lips.

It's odd to think that you two have gone this far, and yet this moment was actually your first kiss together. Right as he was drilling into you at a brutal pace, his sharp pelvic bone causing just enough friction and applying just enough pressure as it rubbed against your throbbing clit. You could feel your body shake, your walls clenching around him as your second orgasm approached, but you wanted him to come too.

Sensing that you were close, Hoseok hitched your legs up, your heels on his shoulders as your feet dangled beside his head. He leaned forward, the angle allowing him to penetrate you deeper, and you felt your eyes rolling back. You were beginning to convulse around him from the intense sensations of your approaching orgasm, but you kenw you wouldn't be satisfied with just that. You wanted to feel the soreness between your legs the night after, knowing each moment you moved that the cause of it was because your brother had snuck inot your room to plow into your tight cunt. More than that, though, you wanted to feel him fill you up with so much cum you were practically overflowing.

"Cum in me, Hoseok," you begged. "I'm so, so close. I want to feel you inside me from this moment to when I wake up in the morning- mark me as yours."

That seemed to do it. Hoseok's eyes rolled back as he let out a few more sloppy thrusts. Your heels dug into his ass as you pulled him close to you, his last few strokes having your orgasm spread throughout your body, intense as it bloomed from your crotch to the tips of your fingertips.

You were panting heavily, and Hoseok's arms shook as he tried to stay upright instead of falling on top of you, though he looked worn out from both the orgasm and the exercise.

You grinned at him, knowing all too well the worrisome look on his face. Instead, you helped him roll over, sitting on top of him as you planted a wet kiss against his mouth.

"You filled me up so good, baby," you whispered in his ear. "I'm going to keep this in me all night. If I weren't on birth control, you would've gotten me pregnant. You filled me up that much- it's spilling out of me already."

"God, you're dirty," Hoseok said, enjoying the way you spoke teasingly and erotically, pulling you down for another kiss. "Imagine what our parents would think if they knew what a dirty girl you were."

"They'd be horrified to know you knocked me up. I'd be so swollen and full, my breasts filled with milk, and they'd know you corrupted their precious baby girl," you smiled, feeling up your breasts as though you could already sense how tender they were. "Our kid would be so precious, huh? So pretty and handsome- just like you. All because you fucked me like an animal."

"You're the filthiest girl I've ever met. I should've fucked you sooner," he said, groping your ass, feeling the full flesh of it as he palmed you thoroughly.

"Daddy always said I should find a decent guy once in a while. I doubt he'd say his own son wasn't decent," you giggled, sliding off the bed to go to the restroom, feeling quite content despite what others would perceive as very wrong.

-

You still had that after-sex glow in the morning, despite how many hours had passed. Your family was having breakfast, and though you and Hoseok had done your best to remain inconspicuous, the passing stares and glances towards one another would be obvious to anyone who was paying attention.

Hoseok had returned to his own room after the sexual encounter, not wanting your parents ot be suspicious. The two of you had yet to talk about it in the morning, but judging from your teasing smirk and glinting eyes, you most certainly didn't regret it. In fact, you seemed content on teasing him.

You also happened to be purposefully brushing your foot against his leg, just to tease him. It was fun seeing him so uncomfortable and riled up, it made you laugh, evidently. Hoseok gave you a passing glare at the audacity of your boldness, but you batted your eyes demurely in response, acting innocent as always.

Your mother looked between the two of you and sighed, taking a sip of her morning coffee. "I do hope you two used protection."

[eldritchsardine]

BBRae Week 2018 Day 5: In Laws

I forgot to put this here since I usually just use FF.Net. Better late than never though right?

Raven glanced at the changeling beside her nervously one last time, before steeling herself at his confident nod. She turned back to the objects before her, resigned to following through with this insane venture. In front of the pair and at the center of the half-demon's shadowed room, a large silver brazier floated in the air, suspended there by her magic. Her hands found the matchbox beside them and she struck one, lighting it. She dropped it into the brazier, igniting its contents, which consisted of many objects she would rather not dwell on. Suffice to say that a ritual this powerful and dark required more than just a few magic words and fairy dust.

An acrid scent began to fill the air as it burned, fire spreading much more rapidly than natural. Within seconds the entire brazier was ablaze, nearly singeing the empath before Beast Boy pulled her back slightly. Her nose wrinkled at the stinging, pungent smell, and another glance at her companion showed he was also affected, even more so due to his animalistic senses. She cast a quick spell to null the affects, and received a grateful smile in response.

Raven rotated back to the fire once again just in time to see it die down just as abruptly as it had started, leaving only a dark and heavy smoke curling through air.

A feeling of confusion emitted from behind her, and Beast Boy spoke up. "Did it work?"

As if in response to the changeling's query, the smoke, which had remained an indistinct mass above the embers rather than dissipating, began to roil and twist in a cloud, before settling slightly to resemble a vaguely sphere-like shape hovering before them, now tinged with crimson on its edges and waves, flashes of white barely perceptible within its innermost depths. As it did so, Raven releases her magic on the still-floating brazier, allowing it to fall to her carpet with a muted crash.

After another brief still, this one without any questions breaking the silence from her green teammate as they stared at the spectacle in trepidation. Eventually, a chill descended over the room, a breath of power seeping into the surrounding air, as well as an overwhelming sense of pure malevolence. Behind her, Beast Boy's hackles rose slightly and a quiet, yet threatening growl vibrating from his throat. Despite herself, Raven felt herself tense, and unconsciously checked the corners of her room, searching for entities prowling in the darkness.

When from within the smoke he emerged, she was almost relieved for an end to the disconcerting silence.

Almost.

'Emerge' was a bit too strong a word as well. His arrival was felt through merely an increase in the irrepressible hateful feeling, followed by four narrowed eyes emerging in the darkness of the smoke, glowing a malignant yellow. Eyes that had plagued her for nearly her entire life, and had hoped she would never see again.

"Daughter."

His voice was much as she remembered; deep, powerful, and containing a sinister, cruel undertone that spoke much of his true nature. However, it contained an additional sound as well. A grudging respect, as well as intense bitterness, no doubt a result of the last time they had come face to face. Namely, when he had brought about the apocalypse before she defeated him, banishing his essence to the pit for eternity and undoing all the damage he had done in her world. Her home.

"Hello father," she responded, keeping her face and tone impassive, placing a calming hand on Beast Boy's thigh behind her as his growl rose in volume. Now was not the time to lose control.

"Why have you called upon me? Wishing to gloat over your victory?" Trigon thundered, before adopting a honeyed tone, which did absolutely nothing to dilute the boundless evil it still contained. "Or perhaps, you've realized your true self, and are ready to embrace your destiny fully, and summon me once again to your realm?"

The changeling behind her moved forwards, taking his place beside her and stared the smokey apparition down defiantly. "How about you shut it and let her tell you why?"

The demon's deep, cruel laugh reverberated throughout the room. "Ah yes, the shifter. How could I forget your team's ever-faithful lapdog? Very well, explain yourself, girl."

An influx of anger from her side brought the empath pause, and she quickly placed a placating hand on his shoulder. It was faint, a mere brush of her fingers against his tense form, but enough to relax his limbs and lessen his temper. However, her one anger burned bright as she glared at her father's presence. "Well, this lapdog has a name. Garfield is why I've summoned you."

Trigon's guffaws insanely filled the air. "Garfield?! Oh, that is rich, girl. But very well, what is it you have to say, mortal?"

Beast Boy raised his chin in unspoken challenge. "I'm going to be your new son-in-law."

Raven tensed. This was not how they had agreed they would break the news. They had a strategically laid-out plan on how and when to reveal their relationship, and Beast Boy ruined it all in seconds, even though he was the one who had been so insistent that they tell him. He had bothered her about it unceasingly for weeks until she finally caved. And here he was now, proving the reason she had been so unwilling to follow through with the insane plan exactly true.

Well, too late to go back now, she thought to herself, waiting for her father's reaction. His eyes were shifting between the couple slowly, as if expecting one of them to jump up and shout 'Just kidding!' Finally, he spoke. "I'm torn between surprise, as I always expected you to never find anyone at all, and disappointment, as this is pathetic, even for you, girl."

Raven and the man beside her bristled, but she held her temper in check. The same couldn't be said for her fiance, however. He snarled in rage at the smokey specter, pupils dilating and growing slightly in size. She couldn't see them, but the half-demon was certain that his claws were elongating in preparation to rip apart whatever dared insult his mate.

But then, Trigon continued. His gaze turned to the changeling. "So, beast, what are you intentions with my daughter?"

Beast Boy quieted, emotions growing slightly confused by the unexpected change of conversation. He recovered quickly however, and lifted his head again before answering. "I love her, and am going to marry her."

No sooner had the words left his mouth when Trigon's amusement once again flooded the room. "Love," he echoed scornfully. "Pah! Love is for weak mortals and their foolish sentiments. What else?"

"I will give life and limb to make her happy for the rest of both our lives, and will do whatever it takes to keep her. In life and in dea-."

"Don't make me sick," her father interrupted. "What will you give her?"

Beast Boy paused, a flurry of emotions running through him too fast for Raven to keep track. "Well, I have a large inheritance from my parents, and I'll continue to make more money through work as a hero, all of which will go towards making the love of my life happy." As he finished, he cast her a small smile, which she responded to with an eye roll. The information of his inheritance was news to her, though she kept her poker face on.

Trigon's collection of eyes seemed to roll as well, though it was hard to tell, what with them being mere slivers of light and all. "Material possessions matter little.

Her fiance now was floundering in confusion, so much so that Raven was forced to struggle not to smirk as he scratched the back of his head, lost as ever. "So if you're not interested in material things or sentiments like love, then what are you asking?"

The demon let out a huff of impatience. "Raven is the daughter of Trigon the Terrible. She is a demon, and as such, has specific needs. Now, to start, will you be supplying her a steady supply of freshly slaughtered mortals to feed on, and what age will they be? The younger the better."

"Father!" Raven cried out in irritation as Beast Boy choked on his response. "How clear must I make it that I have no interest in entertaining that side of myself?!"

"Is that so?" Trigon replied, his gaze falling to her briefly before turning back to her companion. "What of your own father? I take that as a heavy indicator of the offspring's own merit. What does he do?"

Beast Boy bit his lip, hurt welling up inside him. Raven resisted the urge to comfort him, knowing it would only show weakness before her father, and the green teen would likely just interpret it as unwanted pity. "He was a doctor, but he died to save my life when I was a child. I was adopted by Mento in the Doom Patrol later though."

"A selfless sacrifice and a superhero. Disgusting," Trigon declared. "Your prospects continue to diminish, beast."

Raven snorted. Like what you think of him matters.

"Anyways, there are more traits belonging to demons than just a thirst for blood," Trigon continued. "Even from here I can sense many emotions from you. Affection, trust, caring, and many others which brings me to question my own daughters sanity at selecting you, but along with them is a heavy feeling of lust." At this, his eyes glimmered brighter. "Tell me, creature, have you fucked my daughter?"

Mortification flooded the changeling's emotions and expression immediately and he pulled off an excellent impersonation of a fish gasping for air on dry land even without the help of shifting, which Raven took as her cue to take over the conversation in his stead. As her father said, she was part demon after all, which came with a familiarity and comfort around specific topics such as this. "He has."

Beast Boy whirled to stare at the empath, eyes bulging and his face a ruddy green-brown blush. "Rae!" He choked out in horror.

"And?" Trigon pressed.

Raven allowed herself a miniature smile of contentedness. "He's a beast."

"He's big?"

"Oh, very."

"And what of his powers? Does he use them as you rut? Perhaps for greater strength or size, or a unique position? He could even add tentac-."

"Raven!" Beast Boy cries again, pleading her with his emerald eyes, bringing her a pleasant warmth in the pit of her stomach.

"Well, I suppose there's that, at the very least," Trigon muttered to himself, apparently satisfied on the topic. "However, you could do much better, Raven. Don't you know the number of beings who would kill to have the hand of the daughter of Trigon?"

"They'd want more than just my hand I would imagine," the half-demon deadpanned.

"Demons, succubi, demi-gods, even angels, daughter," her father continued, as if he hadn't heard her.

Raven sighed. It looked like there would be no easy way out of this. "Well, he's the one I fell in love with."

After she said it, Beast Boy's strained and mortified expression morphed immediately into a joy-filled grin shining back at her, just as Trigon groaned in disgust. "I have never been so ashamed to be a father."

At this, Raven turned to the smoke. "I don't care. I am in love with him, and I am going to marry him, regardless of your thoughts on the matter. I merely summoned you now because he wouldn't take no for an answer for the issue. I denounce my demonic attributes, and do this for myself, and my love."

With her impromptu speech concluded, Raven turned to her fiancé, wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him close, and pressed her lips to his passionately. As she did so, a sound that was suspiciously similar to gagging and restrained puking could be heard from before them, and the chill pervading over her room lifted. When she finally pulled away from the changeling, both flushed and breathing heavily, the smoke and glowing eyes were gone.

"Well, I think that went pretty well," Beast Boy panted, out of breath from the unexpected and heavy workout of his mouth. He then turned to the empath wit a scowl. "That was damn evil though, talking about our... stuff like that with your dad."

Raven shrugged, feigning a disinterested, bored expression. "It was an important conversation, I couldn't simply ignore it."

"I didn't ignore it either, unfortunately!" Beast Boy exclaimed, though his face quickly adopted a mischevious grin, as well as a suspicious light in his eyes that gave her a heavy sense of unease. "Although since I did hear it all, good ol' pops did give me a good idea involving... tentacles."

Raven paled.

[icybreaths]

You are no saint.

; GREED. Sour days have made you spout brittle hatred- you STEAL their smiles and make them your own, just to so it feels like the sun d r i p s on your frostbitten soul. You hoard their smiles in a duct-taped jar you never like to share.

; ENVY. You want their power! You want THEIR reputation! They see you as filthy rubble, unworthy of their gazes. It hurts-- Look at me! You bare your teeth, voiceless. I am worthy! “Don’t underestimate me!” You burst-- Give me a(nother) chance!

; WRATH. One. Two. Three. Shove them down and snuff them out. They HAD their chance and THEY crushed it between their fingers, and so you crush them between your bloody teeth. The macabre pile rises to the heavens, but-- Your God is not here for you. He never was. They don’t understand you. If they see a monster, then a monster you will show them.

; SLOTH. They are BEGGING for you-- save them! Are you not the Hero of this story?! “No,” you mumble passively. They perished violently before your eyes, toes painted red and warm. You didn’t know them so you didn’t care. I’m not a hero. I never was.

; GLUTTONY. A glutton for punishment!! A hollow hole g-a-p-s your mind and it is empty inside. 40,000 battles would never sate your hunger. No rain, blood, sweat, or tears could ever quench your thirst. One more, -- you think -- just one more hit. Tactless, you seem to mindlessly beg for another galaxy PUNCHED into your skin. One more, -- you think -- just one more supernova to get me by.

; LUST. Insatiable and unspoken. It festers in your heavy, dilated eyes and flushed cheeks. I’ve seen you around before. A breathy sigh feels like fire-- his gaze sets you ablaze! How weak you feel from the slightest touch-- how weak, how weak, how WEAK! Stop yourself, -- you think -- don’t be pulled too close, and don’t pull for it will be your suicide. Branded for war, you know your fate. You know, yet your fingers are curled into his fabrics a breath too long, gazes locked for too... you know, and he knows. Blades poised, what is your choice?

; PRIDE. Barely hanging on, you refuse to stand down. You’ve lost. You know you’ve lost, yet something keeps you from bowing your head willingly. I am not done. You have a presence so unforgettable. You’ve a name, and a voice, and they will KNOW your name, and they will HEAR your bellowing roar! I will never be done.

You are a sinner.

[headlesssamurai]

‘‘What we are is no mistake,’’ she told him. ‘‘Every part of us is true and important. The divine and the mortal. The earnest and the silly. The cerebral and the carnal. The refined and the wanton.’’