#` ✞ fires & pages. ⁞ love you best when you are savage and bitter‚ dress undone‚ you’re still my favorite taboo.

[sunlessea]

“ you don't understand the grave nature of what's happening to us. ” - fires, to pages

dune : part one / @londonfallen

oh, if it could screech any louder, one would assume mr pages capable of waking the permanently rested, or worse yet, leading candles calcified corpse straight to their doorstep even outside the confines of masters' waking nightmares! fires should have kept its mouth shut : something it is so very incapable of, but would benefit from a great deal! the resulting crashes and almost animalistic wailing as it rounds on its poorly-postured colleague and all but bodies it into the ground ensures that anyone who may have been hovering its office in hopes of an artistic review for pages yet unpublished in their papers or novels must decide right then and there that this is perhaps not the best time to bother their tempestuous boss.

all for the best, of course, when the beautificous mr pages has found its claws wrapped around fires' throat with one hand, the other all but fighting against the grip it'd gotten on the malkavian's wrist before it could calm its raging heart by gouging the bat's eyes out!

"WE DON'T UNDERSTAND?! US? ME? YOU INCREDUDACIOUS, UGLY, PATHETICENT, HEARTGOURGED, FASCICRETIN, BOORIDESCENT—" its raving is loud, screeched at the top of its lung until its voice breaks : and were it that fires did not need to breathe, with how violently its claws tear into its throat in attempt to squeeze the false air out of its lungs! "AND WHO IS IT THAT CREATED THIS SYSTEM WHICH PUT US IN THIS POSITION?! WHOM AMONG THE MASTERS LIKE YOU AND YOURS ARE AT FAULT FOR OUR MISERY!!!!" tearing its opposing hand from the others grasp hurts, the marks it leaves behind on its own skin, but the moment their hand is free, they throw it down into fires' face, and hit it with the full force of its claws. wail on it, even! over and over, until its hits aren't even landing because fires has scrambled to grab its arms again — as it oft does, the altercation devolves.

it leaves them writhing, its adversary trying to grab it and flip their positions, but pages stubbornly refusing with a knee slammed into fires' hip, and then its side. leave it injured, bruised, beaten!

it hates mr fires!!!! IT HATES IT!!!!

"I DO NOT DESERVE BEING TRAPPED WITH YOU HORRIBLE, INCORRIGURSED, EVIL BEASTS! IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU! WE SHOULD HAVE CLEANED YOUR BONES!! LIKE THE NAME YOU BEAR, YOU DESERVE TO BURN, YOU MISBEGOTTEN MONGREL—!!!!"

[sunlessea]

' grind into me just like that. ' - firespages

FIRESPAGES BE NORMAL CHALLENGE / @londonfallen

fires is shockingly pathetic, despite how often it would lie with their own coalition. one would think it virgin pure and untouched, as if it had been the one to take up the reigns of chastity against all those it despised in their company. but in comparison, even it holds itself with more dignity than the master beneath it, red to the very tips of its ears and mouth agape in moan as mr pages presses its heel down hard on the bulge in its pants. it's objectively torture, what it does to itself at this point : shirking its own work to drag itself ragged and short of breath into the publishing offices, hoping for their master's brutal touch. it may be a terrible boss, but it's a much worse business partner ... mr irons, at present, is waiting for the two of them, and here mr fires is, short of breath, thighs spread, panting where it sits leaning back beneath its desk.

"do you revor that, mr fires?" the flat of its stiletto grinds over its slacks a little more pointedly, working along the length of its dick as it noticeably grows harder in its pants. "you're already so libidiscent, soaking through your clothes like that. i bet you wanted to come in here and bury yourself inside me before we had to go to our convenion, didn't you? have your way with me?"

it doesn't make it hard to guess. if pages hadn't half dragged it down by its ears, it suspects fires would've thrown it over its desk and ripped its lingerie off to get inside of it. not that it wouldn't have let it fuck its pussy to the brink of exhaustion before they left. but this is funnier.

"mm. no." suddenly, it lifts its heel from fires' erection and lays back in its seat, nose wrinkled as it regards it. they have, what, maybe a thirty minute grace period before irons comes barreling into their offices, fuming in search of them for wasting its time? an hour, if it happens to check caminus first. that's enough time.

it lays back in its seat, reaching up to push the hood of its cloak back. even neath the layers of all the fabric, it's easy to tell when it shifts position, legs parting underneath the cloak in expectation. "put that filtecent mouth of yours to pleasurable use for once, neculai. i'll endift you use of my pussy, if you can swallow every drop of my cum before our colleague shows up. you better be abruditious about it, though, if you want time to cum inside me, too. you do remember how to suck cock like a good boy, don't you?"

[sunlessea]

“ The stars are the only thing that makes sense. ” - adrifires OR firespages

it doesn't hear the stars, or even see them. not like itself. mr pages dances to the sounds of things that only it can hear, whether instrumentals or a symphony of melodious voices, who can say. but it thinks it scares the other masters, although they'd never admit it : the horrors they would all have to face, if its malkavian visions were more than just madness, and instead bore much truth. the stars hate mr fires, and mr veils, and mr irons — all of them, too many to go through one by one. most are sensible enough to stay away from it, 'cept for matters of business. not like the londoners who watch it with much curiosity.

its sleeves sling ink 'cross the walls, when it lifts them high enough as it dances. it had rejected fires once, twice, three times, before its cohort had given up trying to dance alongside it, however awkward the attempt had been. its left to mull in its own heartbreak now, watch someone it could never have, the consequences to its actions. they whisper all kinds of nasty things in pages ears, those stars. and its ears twitch as it listens, humming with the tune that fires cannot hear.

"not for you." it drives the knife in deeper, because mr pages is far beyond caring for the tar dark feelings of beasts like mr fires. there's not poison on its tongue, only honesty, and maybe that is why its blood is so scary. malkavians seem mad outwardly, but they are so sure of themselves and the things they know, and in pages case, the futures it sees. it's hard not to believe them, when they seem to know things with such confidence. "you only think they make sense. falscitious. the stars abandoned you 'pon the third city. every single one of you. what you think you know are just delucinations."

the sky is an empty void of black. endless darkness, occupied only by twinkling stars. it tilts its head up as it dances, and ink runs down its arms like blood, spread in thin rivers 'cross bare, pale skin.

"the stars fell," it murmurs, and it raises its hand above to snap its claws, "their hearts, broken, because of us, godless monstures."

[sunlessea]

❛  do  you  deserve  it ?   ❜ + mirror + beg - firespages :)

the enormity of my desire / @londonfallen

it would claw out fires' eyes if only it could reach the bastard! instead, its left equal parts growling and whimpering where it's held down by the throat 'gainst the cold floor of its office, claws twisted 'round its back in the other bat's grasp. its wrists had been near rubbed raw with how viciously it's tried to twist itself free, but there is only so much even it can do when its teeth, still stained with blood from having torn at its vicious paramour's neck leading up to this, cannot catch the hand that has itself wrapped around its own injured neck. it feels like it should be gasping for air, or trying to kick its legs to free itself from the position it's been forced into, rather than letting its knees bruise against the ground's harsh surface. but even if it needed to breathe, it'd barely be able to, only managing to gasp out the most strangled cries each time the full length of fires' cock slams into it from behind.

the sheer silk of its blouse still clings to it, never fully ripped off : likewise, the only real protection it has from outright scraping its knees are the remaining tatters of its slacks never entirely pulled away before it'd had its hips slammed flush back against fires' own. it's a brutal affair, one that's left it near breathlessly goading its colleague onward with what short quips it can manage. where its voice doesn't encourage with insult and barbed tongue, its body makes up for, wet and cum alike trailing not only from its pussy where each thrust deeper inside it causes fires' own to spill out of it, but along its ass where it had previously finished inside before—

"a—aah...!" its legs are shaking, for all pages spoke so highly of its prudish decorum. it doesn't care about volume past the mask of innocence it pretends to wear, not when there isn't a soul dead or alive who could hope to contest its reputation or person the moment it left this office. it knows its employees can hear them if they linger near too long, but who would risk it? no londoner seeks out the business of a master with their right mind, and so it moans where it's able, when fires palm squeezing its throat loosens just enough for it to get a sound out. it hates it! a reprehensible beast, a savage, a barbarian, through and through—!

"d—die," it wheezes out, with a healthy snap still in its tone of voice where it tries what little it is able to shove its leg back and kick it. it can't manage, of course, but it feels good to try, both for a sense of its pride and because the offense leaves fires brazen enough to stop choking it in order to spank it instead— "f—fuc—" it catches itself by shoving its fangs down on its tongue, even though blood floods its mouth again as a result. it stops from cursing, its voice trailing off into a suppressed cry.

"i hate you!" it growls, free to speak despite the weakness in its tone of voice. "brathetic, incorrigible—" it doesn't get the opportunity to finish before fires' fist is in its hair, and it's dragged up with it pulling it. its own voice is far more erotic than its fury would have anyone else believe, but the switch in their position that it leads to is so quick it barely notices the shift in it. it's small enough for its larger peers to throw around, for better or worse : this is no exception. it hears fires' back hit its desk where it falls to sit against the side, and along with it, without its cock even slipping out of it, pages feels its claws free it to wrap underneath their legs where they fall into its lap, back against its chest. it's gasping for breath now, but it hardly gets a break before it's pounding its pussy again, fires' nails digging deep into its brutalized, marked up thighs to keep it steady each time it thrusts up, inside of it.

one would think its newfound freedom would be used to put distance 'tween them now, but instead, it reaches its hand back to wrap behind fires' head, nails digging into the back of its neck to hold it close as its moans pick up in volume. it must catch itself, too, and the falling apart of its act ... it knows why it'd changed their position, letting it watch itself get fucked by it in the reflection of the floor-length mirror it kept leaned 'gainst the bookshelves in its office. pointed right at the desk, right in front of them. it isn't subtle. "b—brute," it hisses, hateful and yet shivering against the feeling of fires' tongue lulling from its mouth, wrapping itself 'round its throat now where its hand cannot. it can feel fires' drool falling down its back in strings now, too, where it purrs the most impolite things in its ear...

pages can't look away, and even if it could, it knows fires would never let it. their eyes meet where they catch each other's gaze in the mirror, blushed red 'cross their entire bodies, pages covered in fires cum from each time it had made a show of how turned on it was along the way, even whilst pages itself refused to hit the same peak. and it'd made it so far, too, no matter how hard its own cock is now, or how desperate it looks with its own spit falling in lines from its lips. there are tears building in its eyes, so overstimulated where it'd held itself back this entire time, and yet—fires deprives it anyways. it wants the satisfaction of hearing it not just ask, but beg... it knows that.

"neculai—" and so it falters in its own pride, whore to the feeling of heat that'd been building and fading and deprived burning along its spine and pooling in its abdomen. it's at the line, about to fall over from all it can take : the pleasure that's taken hold of it is so intense that its entire body shakes pressed against fires' own, and each thrust deeper inside of it is making it gasp, and whine. it digs its nails into fires' neck until it either takes mercy on it or decides it wants more of that brutality ... it can't be sure. either way, it feels it underneath it, shifting itself so it can hasten the pace of its hips, each thrust getting more pointed, harder, until it can both see how deep it's hitting inside of it via the bulge pushing against its stomach. pages has to use its free hand to hold itself steady against the other's thigh, its head falling to the side against its, but it doesn't break eye contact with it in the mirror, even when its vision at last blurs with tears.

"please—! let me cum, please—" its voice is pathetic, broken 'tween sobs and moans. its dick, criminally untouched, throbs where precum trails along the entire length of it in strings, pooling below them in the mess of fires cum, both their juices, and blood. its frame is far smaller than fires' own, not made for this form of savagery... and yet it relishes the feeling of being ravaged, every bit the slut its colleague growls in its ear to remind it that it is. it tries to move its hips in a way that makes its pussy squeeze around fires' cock, and it's almost certain it isn't the only one who is so brutally close to shooting its cum.

if anyone deserves release, it's itself.

"fuck you!" pages snaps, and uses its hand at its neck to slap it against the head, hard enough for it to hurt. it's annoyed! "i deserve everything! you don't deserve m—aaah!" its voice cuts off in blatant, lewd scream, body tensing with a magnitude it hadn't anticipated when fires slams its cock inside of it and holds it there, filling it far deeper inside its pussy than it should, until its cum spills out in a rush. it's own body is so tense, trembling, its expression frozen in shocked eroticism. all it can do is swallow, and then whine, "i'll do anything," it whimpers, falling back against its chest, submissive, and so, so desperate. all it can do is watch it pull out of it and rub its cum-covered dick against its swollen clit in the mirror, depriving it again. "please... please, please... please... i need it, i deserve it, please..."