#I think a straightforward nothing-to-hide tone suits the character better

[shiroikabocha]

One of my favorite things about the White Rat books is how they explain demonic possession, and I’ve wanted to see a more in-depth exploration of the idea of a cooperative possession since Clockwork Boys/Wonder Engine.

And now I have it!!! ❤️ ILU Wisdom I will be your paladin cleric since I have zero muscle tone but a good brain for numbers

[pairofmelaninkweens]

Shrine of Lies

Characters: Preist Tamaki x Y/n

Word count: 6131 

By: @sweet-darling91

TW:CW: Marking, biblical references, sacrilege, demons, corruption, marking, biting, mutual masterbation, cunnilingus, blowjob

This Peice is a part of the 𝐀 𝐒𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛 please check out the other works here, and mind the content warnings!

The work of an exorcist was arduous, traumatizing and even life-threatening. You and your team, a young group of exorcists, continue to train and aid the remote village in Japan from the rising number of possessions and assaults from demons. Tasks range from blessing homes, tending to the ill, cleansing a home from a demon assault and exorcizing the demons from a host body. Even after exorcizing the demon and banishing it, the responsibility of tending to whatever damage the fallout was also fell on you.

 At first nothing phased you, you got into this line of work to help and support others as best as you could. Your views on the locals were expressed when you rolled your eyes and accepted their old fashioned and unfounded tips with underhanded comments of your own, it still weighed on you and formed a jaded view on the locals. No matter what you did for them, they would praise your name for 5 minutes, then resume their onslaught of demands and eventually returned to the sins that drove them to darken your doorstep with sullen expressions waiting for you to clean up their mess all over again. Jaded, was one way of expressing your feelings towards their hypocritical and backwards demands. You were here to help, not to be a slave to their crooked crusade. At this rate once you were perfectly happy having your guard up, only being contacted when necessary. All the other exorcists except Tamaki followed suit. The village favorites the young priest for his pious nature, he was always diligent in his tasks relating to the church and listened carefully to whatever they had to tell him through his slight fidgets and the blush that spanned his entire face.  What’s more is the way he would carry himself, with dignity that compensated the social awkwardness. His habit of mumbling and soft introverted nature was endearing and explained why he would pair with you. You were a buffer between him and those who blindly idolized him, drawn to his purity. You weren’t into socializing with the locals either, but your straightforwardness aided you in taking the lead, and keeping the dreaded social interactions to a minimum for him. He was more inclined to completing the tasks. Whenever you witnessed him performing them, he was a natural genius in the way he made it look so effortless compared to your peers, and in some instances you would swear you would see a fleeting glimmer of darkness in his eyes with the slightest smirk at the sight of the possessed hosts, or  hear a sarcastic chuckle he tried to supress with his mutterings when you were retreating to the confines of your sanctuary. It was clear to you that he was hiding something and on days like today where you paired up to gather supplies in the village gave you optimum time to pick up on some of the habits he would mask with his mumbling and fidgeting, either Tamaki was a pious man, struggling against his own sinful nature, or a wolf in sheep’s clothing, either option was exciting, but you were secretly hoping it was the latter.

 Back on the church grounds you were welcomed with a notice that there was an impromptu meeting with Tashiro, and the other members. Exasperation escaped your lips in a sigh and grumbling as you made your way to the meeting, slamming yourself in the furthest chair from the group and closest to the door to hear what Father Fat gum had to say. When the large, muscled man made his way through the entrance and stood at the centre of the room he cleared his throat and scanned the faces gathered, mentally taking attendance.

“Glad that you were all able to make it to this meeting, it is a bit of an urgent matter to remind you of why we are here, what are roles are and what is expected of us during our stay.” He begins, noticing you huff and roll your eyes then settle yourself to sit quietly and give him your attention. It’s not Fat gum that stoked your irritation, it’s what comes next that tests your patience.

“I’m sorry that I don’t have better news to share with you all, but it seems that the villagers have some concerns that worried head office and now we are instructed to fall into some of their rules if we are to stay here.” He casts a side glance at you as his lips thin in concern of your reaction. Wipes his head and proceed in a neutral tone. “We are supposed to be the example of what they are to follow, so there is going to be more scorn and burden on our part in how we carry ourselves. Namely how we carry ourselves when we are not on duty. I’m not going to spare you the unnecessary details and get to the point. We are to no longer pair off in coed partners unless said partners are married. Interactions with others need to be held to a minimum. So, no touching while we are out. Dressing should be modest.” He pauses to clear his throat, must be from spewing the absolute bullshit they are having him repeat. “Even if your bodies are shaped a certain way, clothing is to conceal not reveal. Now finally the last and most important part is, abstinence. We are to remain pure to these folks to be taken seriously, and before you berate me. I have rung off their phone, bargained and argued with every supervisor leading to the head. Unfortunately, these mandates are not going anywhere, and we have to practice them effective immediately.” He finishes with his eyes on the floor and his mouth sunken into a frown.

 “That sounds like complete and utter puritan garbage.” you spat your disapproval and looked away in disgust.

 “Sorry, it’s what we have to answer to, Y/N. Apparently, this will make us more trustworthy, more reliable in the eyes of the community. Honestly we don’t need to make more waves given the dismal situation they are already in.” Tashiro reassured,

 “It’s still garbage, the whole no sex till married, and no sex for priests and exorcists? It’s ridiculous, no” - you smirked cruelly.  “a divine comedy, that the same ‘community’ thinks they have a say as to what we do in our personal lives, when it’s their vices that cause us to risk life and limb!” You retort with such passion Tamaki looked straight into your eyes. “Tama,” your sudden attention gave him a start. “Yeah?”

“Aren’t you tired of this strain? These incessant rules? They forever give themselves over to the very said demons that they fear whenever they need something. Just last week we had to fight against one of Beelzebub’s lower grade minions because two merchants surrendered to their own greed-'' At the mention of that incident made Tamaki bow his head and pointedly look at the floor, to others that looked as if you were making him uncomfortable. Had that been the case you would have backed up, but that little shit was suppressing a smirk, you were sure of it because that was the same way he would stifle his laughter whenever you studied scriptures on the blind leading the blind, how man-made rules and ideologies lead the people of the past straight into the hands of the same demons they feared. The irony was all too much for him not to grin at, but his reputation allowed him to get away with these mannerisms. The perfect disguise, you thought much like that of one of the princes of darkness. Tashiro cuts you off with a warning look and an irritated noise from clearing his throat, he must be tired of your outbursts whenever you called shit for what it was, and unlike Tamaki, your reputation was less than pious, but your skills were what saved you from being booted from the clergy. “I did warn you of how primitive this neck of the woods can be in certain customs. Celibacy happens to be one of them.  Let’s try not to make any waves, yeah?” he finishes with a hard look of finality and concludes the impromptu meeting, sending everyone to their quarters. You lag to walk with Tamaki. The trip is silent, but you pick up on the way his breathing gets ragged when you catch close in on him, eyeing the rouge color creeping up his neck and the way he bites his lip and hunches his shoulders. As you are round the corner to your rooms you stop him just short of his door in the cranny shielding the two of you from the view of any onlookers, but just barely.

 “Tamaki, this sounds like garbage to you too, doesn’t it?” you whispered to him with a sad look in your eyes that he can’t place. “Y/N, I’m sure it’s a hassle that will pass, just remember to be in check of your emotions so as not to make yourself vulnerable when we go out to exorcise demons ok?” he says hoping it brings some sort of ease to you. He’s surprised when you smile at him and wrap your arms around his middle. Closing his eyes he relaxes in the feeling of your warmth, the smell of your shampoo tempts him to lean into the hug and then he feels the softness of your breasts squeeze into him. “You could do that for me, can’t you….Tama~” your breathy whisper floods his face with warmth, and he leans away when  you release him, meeting his gaze you clasped one of his hands and squeezed it between your smaller ones. You were pushing him, baiting him out to bend the rules.

“Y/N what are you doing? You can’t be touching me here in the open, the hug was risky.” He stammers, turning his head, fixing his attention to the stained-glass windows.

 “Tamaki~” You purr, trailing your finger down his temple, then tracing the sharp line of his jaw, turning his head forcing his gaze to return to meet yours. Tell me, do you honestly think complying to the forced celibacy rule will make us better at our job? Answer me honestly and I’ll let go.”

Tamaki’s body grows rigid, large hands grasping your shoulders and pushing your body against the wall, causing you to pout at him. “That’s not nice.”

 “I don’t agree with them, but I’m not getting into trouble either. I have been able to suppress my desires for years, and despite what you think. We can get in trouble just by being this close.” He mutters.

 “Then are we gonna sort through these feeling together?” you close the space between you and palm the growing bulge in his pants. “You know I like being around you, I like how gentle you are. I especially like how excited you get to see me.” You hum, but he stands upright. “The rules have just been made y/n. I’m not going to break them on the first night.” He asserts and brushes past you  with his hand on the knob of his chamber door, but before he opens it you hear him mutter in a deep, darkening tone that makes your hairs stand on end. “Don’t go knocking on the devil’s door, he might just answer.” You smirk to yourself as he disappears into his room and locks the door. That was his answer, but you could see he didn’t mean it. The rigidness and the fumbling of his hands were tactics in keeping himself busy from grabbing you, that didn’t escape your observations, and you have been watching him for some time, picking up on these behaviours, sparking your curiosity and pushing you to find out where these clues lead to. Repressed urges, or wolf in sheep’s clothing. You were determined to find out, despite his warnings.

Pulling yourself off the wall with a disappointed huff you make your way into your room, slipping out of your robes and walking over to your dresser to get a change of clothes when you heard it. A soft whimper rung in your ears. Tamaki sat on his bed on the opposite side of the wall stroking his aching length, eyes closed and imagining your smaller hands barely able to wrap around his length stroke him from base to tip, playing with his tip. Squeezing his eyes to suppress the frustration that melted away when he heard your voice, through the walls. “Tamaki~ please.” Your sweet moan made him buck into the air unconsciously. His pointed ears twitched listening to you but there was no mistaking the sounds of you fingering yourself. “I can hear you, you don’t have to answer me, but let me do this with you.”  You whisper through the wall. There was no time to think of any reason to reject you, you were moaning so sweetly for him. Helping him through his time of need right? Surly this one transgression would be overlooked. Scooting closer to the wall, secretly kicking himself because it could have been your body, he was scooting closer to instead. “Go faster” he ordered, matching his strokes to the squelching sounds of your fingers plunging into your wet swollen pussy. Fuck he wished it was his cock splitting you open, watching your essence coat his cock before it disappeared deep inside you. “I’m close Tamaki” you mewled the pace of your fingers sped up, the sounds were all he could hear, all he focused on when he fucked into his fist, then finally shooting silken ropes of cum up his belly, as he heard you stifle you moan as you reached your climax. He reached over to grab a cloth to clean himself, smiling over at the wall. Not daring to say anything to urge you to do anything impulsive and get you into more trouble. Then drifted off to sleep, his head pressed against the wall, with you mirroring his actions on the other side.

Then next morning you were sitting in the pews watching Tamaki bless the crosses and refill the holy water bottles for the other priest on duty performing exorcisms in the village. When his hands were busy, it was easy for his mind to focus on the task at hand. The look of total concentration and his steady hands stirred something wicked in you, wanting to push his buttons and shake his resolve. This, moments when he was busy fulfilling his duties rendered his morale struggle and indiscretions invisible in the eyes of the others but you weren’t the others you thought to yourself abandoning the Pew, you join him on the opposite side of the altar tracing your fingers over the cherry oak. “Anything I can do to help… Brother Tamaki” you whisper leaning forward just enough for him to be able to spy your cleavage. Smirking when you see the colour rise from his neck to his hairline, dropping the bottles and stumbling back stuttering. “Ttt-too close y/n”. Pouting with a finger to your chin you slip around the altar to his side. “ooo Tama-kii~”, are you ill? Your rather flushed” you coo, feeling his forehead, making sure to press your chest into his. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips when you feel him instinctively move to grab you, but instead stiffens his entire body, planting himself in place. “You know you can grab me, cus...I’m not going to break.” whispering the latter half you pull back with a wink “unless you want to break me. That would be fun too.” you smile, unable to hide your mirth, but he shushes you with his finger against your lips. “can’t do this y/n” he mutters and slams your hands down to your sides before retreating to his quarters. Well, there is something to be said about that stubborn resolve he has, once he made up his mind on something he sure gave his all in standing by it. Too bad you were hell-bent on making sure that “belief” he had unraveled, it was satisfying to see that look of impending defeat cross his face. You finished his task for him and headed over to your quarters, which are conveniently neighbouring Tamaki’s. With your bed to the wall, you could hear him trying to suppress the low moans and whimpers, as he no doubt was stroking his cock falling apart as he fucked his fist. What was he thinking about? Well, you certainly accompanied him in reaching down your garments and rubbing slow tight circles into your clit, imagining how full his thick fingers would make your cunt feel, how he could mute your voice with two of his digits in your mouth. Hoping that he would give in and come through your door to sink his cock into you and fuck you into the mattress. What you didn’t see was the changes to his appearance he was stifling, as his restraint began to unravel, the fluctuations in his voice and the protesting groans in response to the change of his mass.

 Weeks had passed since you last gotten to work with Tamaki, the confines of the Chapel began to get on your nerves, the frustration of not having your whispered moments in the night, glancing his expressions when you brushed close to him, offered yourself to him only to see the struggle with his own ideals and the orders that were forced on you. The villagers seemed to be well pleased though the visitors never ceased to utter their pleased opinions of how much better you were carrying yourself. You had to bite your tongue when they asked you. “Don’t you feel much better now that you look the part?” they wouldn’t know what looking the part was if it was right before their eyes. From all the secret looks you would cast Tamaki in the brief moments in passing you knew that he wanted more than this. He was full of potential, overlooked for his quiet agreeable nature, but if you took the time, like you have been with the secret nightly routine guiding each other to release, you could see that there was a powerful darkness, a dominance in him that you wanted to feel.  Smiling to yourself you placed in your request for practicing the ritual for confessions after an exorcism. Knowing Tamaki would be the one to answer that request given that he was the most skilled at the task, the one that was always requested by popular demand. It was almost eerie the way that he was revered, naturally drawing the villagers to his side, like moths to a flame.  Always in awe as he banished some of the top tier minions haunting homes, reining havoc from a deal gone awry, and it was the last Exorcism that confirmed your belief and answered your hunch.  A villager’s daughter who was possessed by a lesser demon had made eye contact with him and addressed him with reverence before being slain. You could not ignore the unmistakable look of disdain in his expression, the way his body stood with the confidence of a certified leader. Then of course the muttering of in the distorted tone, “should have executed you long ago.” Approaching his side, you asked. “Did you know that demon?” The question made his eyes hone in on you as if gauging you to decide on the best answer, then dismissing it with an awkward wave of his hand with the attempt of masking the event with his false timid nature, and sheepish voice. That was enough, you just needed him alone, and to stay in the room long enough to get what you wanted. Based on what you witnessed lined with what you studied in The Grimoire of Pope Honorius, the appearance, skills and abilities aligned with Tamaki’s quirk and the way the population of the area perceived him. One of the ancient demon kings was known for his ability to shift from man to creature and even a mixture of the two. As well as the hoarse voice, the demanding presence of a leader since he easily led sixty legions of lesser demons complete with skills to use invisibility, and popularity. The latter lining perfectly with how he was able to hide in plain sight yet being revered by the masses. Indeed this “lesson” would be one to remember.

 When the time came you dressed the part perfectly, not a hair out of place, robes freshly starched and ironed. However, it was the same robes that the village requested you not to wear because of how poorly it concealed your curves. If anything, the garment that would have offered a baggy fit on others, proved to be snug on your frame. You even pushed the envelope in neglecting your tights to cover your bare legs. You were not in need of concealing anything you thought with excitement. Barely containing yourself when you heard the doors swing open.

  What is it that you need my help with y/n?”

 “Oh, you know, just running through the steps of confession, nothing major.” 

His pulse rises, his gut tightens with anticipation; he knows that you were exceptional in what you were doing, but his curiosity and the allure of seeing what you had up your sleeve excited him. He was so good for so long, depriving these forbidden pleasures for years. Years that stretched longer than your lifespan. Surely if he slipped just this once, it could be overlooked; if he could just see what it was you were up to, he could sate his curiosity and retreat to his quarters before anything serious transpired. Closing his eyes and refocusing his attention on you, he asked, “ ok, let’s practice receiving the forgiveness of sins to confess. Y/n I need you to get down on your knees and recite the initial line.” Your lips tugged at the corners into a small smile. “I’m a wretched sinner that needs your sanctification,” you purr, sinking to your knees, palms pressed together, doe eyes looking up at him through lashes barely masking the glimmer of mischief as you open your mouth and stretch out your tongue with a lewd moan, parting your thighs.” Tamaki’s eyes widen in shock at your downright lewd actions in the middle of the pulpit, no less. He could feel lust heat his blood, coursing through his body, tightening the coil in his core, and his mouth salivate. Fuck, that moan sounded so good, so sweet; as bratty as you were, he was sure you could be good, you could behave. He could make you behave with his steady hand. He knew it, was sure of it he thought as he forced his body still to allow him to take the bread and place it on your waiting tongue. He watches you capture his thumb between your lips, pulling a small gasp from his throat witnessing you pulling his thumb in your mouth. Swirling your warm tongue around it, savouring the salt on his fingertips, and humming in pleasure all while holding his gaze. Tamaki’s mouth drops open, watching you, feeling his cock twitch to life, and before he was conscious of what he was doing, he hooks the thumb in your mouth pulling you close to his growing bulge. Not ready for him to take the opportunity to come to his senses, you reach for his hips, smoothing your hand down his thigh, pressing your nails down as you go, dragging them back up and finally palming his growing erection. 

 Tamaki yanks at your jaw so harshly it makes you squeeze your eyes shut, then look up at him. “ You, filthy temptress.” his voice held a deep dark timber that amplified in his chest, his eyes starting to glow with a light of danger as his pupils began to dilate. Once again, he surprises you with that resolve of his when he shakes his head, pulling away from you and raking his fingers through his indigo strands, exhaling as if that would force the temptations out of his mind, wipe the lewd actions and sounds you made from his mind. You couldn’t let that be the case, where was the fun in that? You stood up and made your way to the altar, taking a seat and whistling over to him, getting his attention. “I’m sorry, Tama, but tell me. Do you honestly think that depriving your needs to the point that your mind spirals into insanity will save you? Who do you think your prayers go? And what deity do you think these pitiful actions will appease?” you mock.

 Tamaki’s ears grew hot, and his eyes narrowed. “You think my actions are pointless?”

You pretend to mull over his question. “I never said that. I just think you forgot who you are and are trying to awaken your full potential. You need to stop suppressing it, Tamaki~” you purr his name the same way you do when you touch yourself in the shroud of darkness, to the sounds of him fucking into his fist and spilling his cum all over himself. Tutting at the memory, you lick your lips and hope that this time, it would be your throat he cums into instead of his fist. “Everything I do has a purpose.” irritation heats his word, his canines elongate as he sneers at you, approaching with an unhurried pace. “What potential do you think you can unlock in me and how?” he asks. Finally, he is asking the right question. Spreading your legs and hiking up your robes, you begin to ask, “well, you can manifest what you eat; what if I tell you, I have something that will manifest your truth if you have a taste?” He stops and stares; the look of conflicting thoughts span across his face, but you call out to him. “You know I have never hurt you; why would I start now?” You pull your panties to the side and run your finger up your slit, spreading your lips and curling the finger of your free hand over to him. As if caught in a trance, he closes the distance between you and kneels between your thighs, finally close enough to appreciate the sweet soft scent of your skin and the slick glistening on your lips. Before he could stop himself, he licks a hot stripe up your quivering cunt, moaning in response to the sinful sound coming out of you. The taste of you dances on his tongue, the sweetest and most sinful flavour he has ever had, clouding his logic and corrupting everything he has ever known, tarnishing every practice and need to stop like aged silver. His muscles contracted, and his nails grew into talons that bite into the plush of your thighs, sending sharp pricks of paint ebbing into pleasure as he prods his tongue into you, groaning when your walls flutter around his tongue and squeeze down onto him. He begins to lose himself in you, worshiping you with a hungry mouth, searching tongue, and holding onto you like your cunt is the only salvation left in this life. The feeling of him contorting his tongue in you was overwhelming you, you have had men tongue fuck you before, just not the way Tamaki was actually prodding deep, swirling his tongue against the convulsing walls of your pussy. Your moans rose in volume, pitch and with a tone of neediness. His tongue felt like it was actually stretching you, as he rocked his face back and forth. Nodding when you bucked your hips into his mouth. His eyes rolled back feeling any sense of restraint evaporate, being replaced with the need to claim you, mark you, and consume you. He wanted to ruin you, and why shouldn’t he? If no good deed goes unpunished. Then he’s ready to deal with whatever the wages are for this transgression. His tongue elongates inside of you, the friction it causes has you whimpering from the ways it made you writhe in pleasure, as you submerge into the warm pulsing bliss of your orgasm. Tamaki’s assault on your fluttering walls does not stop, he continues contorting his tongue in you despite your efforts in closing your legs from the feeling of overstimulation, but the force he uses made his talons bite into your thighs pricking you with sharp stings of pain. Pulling back his head and pulling his tongue out of your dripping lips, he laps at the swollen flesh, looking at you with blown pupils almost making his eyes look completely as dark as the night sky outside. 

 Licking his lips clean of you, he leans in close to breathe against your clit. “ Well done, y/n. I think I know what it is you want me to realize, but before we get to that task, and before you get to cum again, why not reward me? nothing is free, so why don’t you go ahead and take a taste for yourself?” He releases his hold on your thighs letting them droop to the altar like the tendrils of a jellyfish. Watching Tamaki rise to his feet made your mouth fall open to see his new height, and the ways his toned body had filled out his robes, threatening to tear at the seams when he moved his arms. You were surprised the effects of his quirk were working so quickly but the time for realizations was cut short when he let his pants and boxers pool around his ankles revealing his veiny erection. He wrapped his hand around his length and fisted himself giving himself a few pumps to alleviate the throbbing need building up. Your mouth watered seeing the way pre began to seep from his swollen tip. Sliding off the altar you make your way before Tamaki, who now caresses your face letting you relax into his large palm so he can sharply grab your cheeks and pull your face close to his. “I’m your God now.” Though he never asked for it, you nodded your understanding. Both your heart and your pussy fluttered with the excitement of his transformation. “Now it’s time for you to worship me as such'' he breathes. Voice so low it resonated in your core, flashing goosebumps across your flesh. “Tch, if you want me to bless you, you have to serve me, nothing is free '' The command shoots down your spine and pools into a tightening cord in your core. When he snaked his hands through your hair, gripping your strands close to your scalp and bringing you to your knees observing intently as you wrap your lips around his cock, slipping your eyes shut and wrapping your hand pumping the length that didn't fit down your throat. Tamaki flexed his thighs and groaned in pleasure, slowly pushing his hips forward as you pump him, swirling your tongue along the underside of his cock twitching in your mouth and moaning around it, letting the vibrations of your moan pleasure him further. Taking advantage of your relaxed muscles he thrusted into you brushing your hands away, content with your actions making you look like you were uttering a lewd prayer on your knees, eyes closed, and hands clasped around the base of him. Fuck you were so eager to please why did he deprive himself this pleasure for so long? Your moans began to sound more desperate, as his pace increased fucking your throat raw. Barely giving you time to catch a breath before his thick hot seed pooled on your tongue. His large hand slipped down from your hair and wrapped around your throat lightly squeezing the side gathering your attention to slide open your eyes. "Don't swallow, show me" he ordered as he slipped his slickened cock out of your mouth, biting at his bottom lip at the sight of your fucked out expression. The sound of tearing fabric filled the otherwise silent room and made you widen your eyes to see what was happening. Tamaki had manifested wings, shredding his robes and you realized he also had claws growing from his hands. You should be panicking, yet the euphoric feeling of excitement floods your bloodstream with dopamine, dilating your pupils, reducing your irises to thin strips of e/c. Lapping up the cum and looking up at his Ruby irises you curl your lips into a smile. "I knew you were something more, a wolf hiding in sheep's clothing. Baal." You mused.

 "And you have done well seeing who I am, obediently recognising me, constantly offered yourself to me despite the persecution you received." He says stroking your hair then grabbing the nape of your neck pulling you up to your feet, then scooping you up into his hold. "Your body is a beautiful offering I accept with contentment." He whispers against your jaw, freeing you of your remaining clothing, effectively removing anything that would prevent him from making direct contact with your heated skin. Carting you over to the altar and spreading your thighs so he could slot himself between them. You stare up at him in a heated gaze, pulse thrumming in your ears, goosebumps line your skin, and your waiting cunt are already slick and quivering. Ready for him to fuck you into the afterlife, and he does. He lines his head with your swollen lips, slipping his hardening cock through your silken folds, relishing the sound of your mewls and stifled moans. It’s cute to see you tremble beneath him, bucking your hips with impatience. He laughs at your futile attempts and slaps his length against your sensitive swollen clit, pulling a small squeal of surprise from you. Seeing how frustration creased your eyebrows, pouted your lips and welled tears threatening to breach your waterline and streak down your face. When you feel his head breach your entrance and you clench down on him, feeling how deliciously he stretches you as he sinks deeper into your warmth that welcomes the intrusion by clenching down on him. The feeling is mutually divine: the burn from the stretch as he bottoms out inside you melds into pleasure almost instantly when he starts to pull out and plummets back into you with so much force you gasp out breaths each time he repeats the movement. Your clit tickling against the dusting of groomed pubes sent pleasure signals shooting through your nerves. Your back arched as Baal dug his talons into your sides creating shallow scratches and lapping at the blood that sprang up. You felt light headed at the mixture of pain from how he was slamming his hips into yours, scratching and marking your body, then feeling pleasure when he licked and soothed the wounds, when he brought his lips to your ear and praised you for taking his entire length how beautiful you are  and how sweet your voice is pleading for him not to stop as your are swept away in the shocking current of  your orgasm. Placing your palms up and nibbling at his bottom lip to deepen the kiss he presses against your lips he chuckles and grabbed onto the altar’s edge and delivers sloppy punishing blows of his hips into yours making your see glowing stars dancing in your field of vision and hearing a splintering noise muted in your ears and  then feeling like you were falling, only to be caught by a pair of large warm hands that offered stability, a safe space to fall apart in, and so you did. Cumming hard, covered in sweat and exhausted from taking the fucking of a lifetime from the Demon king brought you back to your senses to realize you were spit on Tamaki’s dick, while he held you up with no effort, making you feel tiny compared to his now towering form with extended wings, fangs extending from his lips, claws that threatened to pierce your flesh with one wrong move. His legs were thickly muscled and feet hooved in his signature appearance. Despite the changed exterior you could still make out Tamaki’s personality mingled with the dark deity as he brought his lips to your temple, nuzzling you and smiling when he felt your weak hands caress his cheeks. The intimate moment was interrupted with the door creaking open, revealing the arrival of a shell-shocked Fat Gum, other lower ranking priests and exorcist staring at the sight of your joined bodies in the center of the pulpit and the destroyed alter that Tamaki fucked you on now laying in splinters scattered around your feet. Well, now that they see, maybe now they will believe, not everything was what it seemed.

[the-canary]

Languages of Saints - C.R (7/10)

Summary: A deal isn’t supposed to involve feelings, right? (Reader/Carter Baizen).

Prompt: “Did you enjoy yourself last night?”

A/N: for @imcarterbaizen​ old challenge. shout out to my bff @ilsa-faustus because i know nothing about high end brands, and she helped picked the clothes for this. please don’t take the person wearing the dress as an actual visual of the main character, it is simple a reference for you to make a basis out of.  

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 

Feedback is always appreciated.

It’s easy to let work pile up, to let it be the only thing that dominates your mind to and back home from work. Numbers and words are easier to handle the people and emotions, you tend to ignore those until the fester and it’s too late -- work is always there with a straightforward answer in its numbers and it doesn’t talk back. You can disconnect with it and it doesn’t hurt like when a person stops interacting with you, maybe that’s why you could handle Rocio so well. Roci was forest fire that hid after she burned herself out and didn’t come back until she was some semblance of her former self -- for all the insane schemes she had put you through the years, she had never showed you that softer side of her personality -- and you never had either.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t the complete truth. There bits here and there, like the garden party, where you would stand by your best (and only) friend if it was called for. And in the same, twisted sort of way -- Rocio tried her best to protect you too. Though, it was too damn early to be sending her cryptic text messages when you had work in the morning

Don’t do it. You’ll just get hurt in the end.    

You move from your bed, as Monsieur makes a loud meow at the interruption to his sleep. You check the time again to see that it’s 4am. You groan and wonder what she means, roll around a bit more -- forgetting all about the message and going back to those strange dreams filled with cold numbers and equally as icy blue eyes -- not that you remember anything when your real time to wake up when morning comes around.

However, Carter Baizen isn’t the same type of rich person as Rocio. He likes poking and prodding at people in his own way until he finds something that bothers them. It had taken him a long while, but once he had found a weakness of yours; he went in for the kill. You were a natural workaholic and while it was something that he admired, it was also something he exploited after the gala event incident. No, it wasn’t that he made you work more, but in his own cheekiness of mentioning how he could ruin the events leading up to gala.

Since agreeing to being his plus one, it had opened some type gate to him trying to get a rise out of you. In the events you needed to attend, he was always dressed to the nines in Hugo Boss suits, but the moment someone turned around he was always making some type of slide remark and he did in moments where the possibility of getting caught was high. At this point you weren’t sure if he was trying to make you mad or trying to make you laugh. As in the current moment, Carter Baizen had taken you to a quick dinner with some “very”  important people in downtown Manhattan.

Personal assistant could be added to your resume at this point, but you weren’t sure that the scantily clad woman next to the man was here for the same reason as you. The man was complaining to the waiter about his steak when you hear a small murmur above the classical music.

“Always does it,” you glance to your right side to see sparkling blue eyes and a wagging eyebrow and you put two and two together. This man of high status complained about his steak to get it cheaper all the time. You don’t know why, maybe it’s the lack of sleep, the way he shakes his head with a silent laugh, or just how ridiculous the situation is that it has you letting out a snort, catching everyone’s attention as you grab your handkerchief pretend to sneeze.

“Excuse me,” you manage to say, as the man simply scolds you before going back to talking with Mr. Baizen. You can’t help the smile that blooms on your face for a moment, one that you try to hide behind the wine glass, as the meeting continues.

However, after everything is said and done, after the drunk business man and his “date” leave, Carter Baizen can’t help but let out a loud laugh into the humid New York air as your shake your head.

“What an idiot,” Carter lets out with while placing his hands into his pockets, you just shake your head but can’t help but agree silently, not that you would ever tell him. However, as he runs a hand through his hair with laugh lines around his eyes, you can’t help but think it looks good on him compared to all the other times you have interacted with him.

“You’re child, Mr. Baizen,” is all you’ll say on the subject, as he keeps laughing.  

The second time you think Carter Baizen is playing with you is when you come back from lunch and have a beautifully suited woman sitting on your desk. Her blonde hair is flowing to her shoulders. She’s wearing a pure white suit and accessories all over her hands and neck that you are sure cost more than you’ll ever make. However, the thing that stands out most are her high heels that shine gold in the artificial light, you pause momentarily out fear at the entrance of your office door, as beautifully painted brown eyes stare at you. Her mouth twitches just a little as you duck your head in.

“Umm, where you waiting for me?” you ask timid to stare, much less speak to such a stylish woman. It was easier with Rocio after years of friendship, but this woman was something all together. She drops down her legs from the desk and smiles.

“I’m Cameron,” she explains as you close the door, “One of Carter Baizen’s personal stylists, but for today I’ll be handling your dress attire for the gala.”

“I don’t think I need help dressing up,” you freeze up mortified at the attention and money suddenly being placed into what you wore, something that you still aren’t used to even after that shopping spree, “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

“Ah, he said you would say that,” Cameron just keeps smiling while pulling out her phone and relaying a certain message, “Mr. Baizen says: Tell my lovely date, that I am personally paying for your services. It is a waste of your time and my money not to have her at her best, especially with so many potential donors for the children’s hospital. If not I could find someone with --”

“Please stop ,” you groan out, as she gives you a pointed smile, “So what do you need of me?”

“Your body,” she states as your eyes grow wide at her tone. She stands up, heels echoing on the linoleum, and crosses the distance between the two of you before pushing you outside once more, “And for you to do everything I say without a fuss.”

“I-I can try,” you say nervously as she drags your across the office and into the elevators. It isn’t much of a scene, but Cameron’s outfit and you just being out is enough to have a few eyes staring at you. Nick looks on from the water cooling station before waving at you to have a good whatever it is you’re doing.

“Thanks!” you yell back, as the blond chuckles behind you. You’re a little fearful over her next words as she takes you to the elevator -- where she is leading you, you have no clue.

“Just watch, we’ll have Carter Baizen graveling at your feet, sweetie.”

You don’t know if you should be excited or angry at the man who you are sure will be laughing about this later.

 Carter Baizen isn’t sure why he is feeling so nervous as he walks around the large hallway leading to the gala he is too attend this evening. He is perfection in a black on black Armani suit with his hair slicked back in just the right angle. He had his selling pitch ready for anyone that is even hesitating to give tonight with the charm amped up to 10x more than usual. Nothing could get in his way tonight, except that his date wasn’t here yet. Cameron had messaged him that there were few problems with the original dress and she was getting a new one last minute. It meant that you didn’t come together as planned, now he was waiting with no updates -- something that drove him a little stir crazy. He’s about have a very angry phone call with one of his favorite stylists, but then he hears it.

“And who are you with, miss?” the maitre d asks.

“I’m Mr. Carter Baizen’s plus one,” there is an unusual pitch to the voice that is usually so sarcastic and fiesty with him, but Carter at this point knows it by heart. Blue eyes look up and freeze at the sight in front of him. Hair pinned back with just a bit of makeup but bright red lips. They match your knee-length dress and jacket in its red-and-black combo with red heels to finish the combo.

He’s mesmerized, making a reminder that he needs to give Cameron extra the next time he sees her. He gets tunnel vision for a moment, as you get closer to him -- a worried look on your face.

“I’m sorry, something happened to the Chanel dress last minute. Cameron found this though,” you sway a little to emphasize the new dress and smile, “I think it looks better though.”

“Yeah, it looks great,” he tries to says as nonchalant as possible before grabbing your hand, though you give him a look that causes him to laugh, “None of that tonight. Smile and sell what you gotta for those kids, but not everything.”

His joke causes you to shake your head but he can feel you ease up just a little at you take your first steps into the large and highly decorated ballroom . Your eyes growing for moment.

“Mr.Bai--” you start, only to have him cut you off.

“ Tut tut , it’s Carter for tonight,” he reprimands you, which causes you to frown as blue eyes stare at your red lips for a moment. He knows for sure they are going to be a distraction for the rest of the night. But, instead of listening to whatever fears you might have due to fully emerging into the world of the filthy rich and famous of NYC, he just grabs your hand tighter and pulls you head first into the shark den. It was a bit harsh, but he knew you had it in you.

“Don’t forget to smile,” he chuckles quietly as the first old, wealthy couple makes its way to the two of you.

 Carter knows that there might some ramifications in letting you go on your own to talk to people here and there throughout the event. You were fresh meat for them without the cynical nature some rich people had. There was also the chance that someone might get too touchy-feely with you or someone talked in a certain way about your relationship with him because there were also rumors floating around when it came to him. But, he believed in your level-headedness and natural charisma that seemed to shine in the oddest of moments, plus he knew by now that you cared deeply about cause like this.

Nevertheless, he always stays close to you and as he watches you work your magic on the Livingstons, then the Winthrops, hell even the old Vanderbilt heiress falls under your spell as he watches each one of them head up front and make a donation after talking to you. You just might be even better than him, as he watches you laugh and talk to a certain famous news anchor. And for a moment he wonders it this is just all naturally you or something you have cultivated from knowing Rocio for so long. Eventually after talking and mingling, you end up sitting in one of the many side tables, jacket resting on the chair, as he comes to your side.   

“So, how are you enjoying yourself?” he asks, as you look up from your small tray of finger food with a tired smile, though the effect from hours before still hasn’t faded away. He grabs your hand and drags you to the large dancing space. You groan in annoyance, but say nothing, which Carter considers a win as he slips a hand around your waist and you place a hand on his shoulder, frown in place like always. He’s just getting used to it to live with it.  

“It’s nice, I guess,” you explain after a smile, as the song dies and a new one begins. It isn’t the same as the garden party. There isn’t any joking around as the soft jazz music plays and he drags you just a bit closer.

“But, not your thing?” he asks, as you shake your head. You bit your lip in thought for a moment, as blue eyes zoom into the action before you start talking once more.

“Hmm, I’m sure that some people would love this glitz and glamour, spending time dancing and eating the best food while wearing an expensive dress,” you look down motion to said fancy thing before admitting the truth, “But in all honesty, I would rather be eating Thai with Monsieur right now.”

“Monsieur?” he has heard everything you had said, and while he mull over it later, Carter asks about the thing strange in that statement.  

“Ah, my pet cat,” you clarify as he nods, though ready to add something. However, you beat him to the punch, “And yes, I’ve already heard the old cat lady jokes.”

He laugh as you look away in embarrassment but then think about everything you had said on how you would rather be relaxing than putting up pretenses, and he can’t help but agree. So instead of going back to the table were your jacket is placed, he starts heading toward the entrance. In your confusion you protest just a little, though thankful that all your important stuff in a small pocket on the side of the dress as Carter Baizen drags you from the gala event --clock close to striking midnight-- and to god knows where.      

 You never make it an easy job for Carter Baizen to have you enter his car, as you frown and complain that you aren’t going anywhere without knowing to which borough he had in mind. He can’t help but reminisce to the party all those months back and grin before letting you know that you were heading to Brooklyn for some real food -- something your stomach greatly approved of. This lead to you and the Carter Baizen to be sitting in your formal wear on a bench on the side of of the Brooklyn Bridge with a pizza between the two of you. It’s silent for a long while, as both of you take your fill, though you try your hardest to make sure the dress doesn’t get any food on it. The silence eventually bothers Carter too much, as he asks the first thing that pops into his head, while staring at the murky waters not that far away.

“So, do you enjoy this type of stuff,” he asks as you turn to look at him, searching for a further explanation, “Charity, helping people?”

“You’re really are a rich boy,” you say with a little malice, as if you had an old anger for something you couldn’t stop years ago, “But, not everyone has the type of money to have preventative care or to pay for their medicine.”

“Who?” he can’t help but ask because he knew the everyone at Baizen Co. had a pretty good healthcare packet compared to other companies, especially you. So, it had to be something connected to your past and it go him curious.

“Doesn’t matter,” you cut him off from learning anything about the part of your life, before taking a bite of pizza, closing off this part of the conversation, “Nostalgia won’t bring the things you love back.”

“How noble of you,” he bites back like a child, as you frown.

“Ah… thank you for the backhanded compliment,” you bite back and he can’t help but be caught off guard that you are calling him back on his attitude in your own way.  

“I didn’t mean like that,” he gives a weak excuse as it’s your turn to have that particular grin on your face, in order to push back the unpleasant thoughts of what you had just talked about.

“Hmm,” is all you say as a response.

“You’re a tough one to crack,”  he admits in annoyance, before running a hand through his hair as it to emphasize his exasperation towards you even more. Though, he should know that the feeling was mutual by now.   

“Would you want it any other way?” you start before going off, while pointing at him with annoyance in your voice, but not much else as when he first meet you,  “Or do you enjoying having those young ladies falling at their feet, calling you nicknames, what are they --Saint Carter, Car Car -- while none of the work gets done? I’ve known you long enough to know that you appreciate efficiency over anything else.”

“Ah, you have me there,” he states with a shiteating grin on his face at your little tirade, leaning back onto the bench, full from the meal as he adds on,“Spitfire.”

“Now that’s a compliment, Mr. Baizen,” you nod, before adding much to his surprise, “So, got any good stories to tell?”

“Like what?” he asks while turning just to look at you -- more carefree than usual underneath the moon and streetlights that he wished he had a camera to capture the moment.  

“Like Texas or Machu Pichu?” you tease, remembering what Rocio had told you once from her own stories,  and hopeful to move the discussion into something happier, “Maybe even that Bass famous rivalry?”

“You really wanna hear about all that?” Carter asks, a curious uptick in his voice as he wonders why you would want to know about all the stupid things he had done back in his youth. You just shake your head and laugh.  

“Entertain me,” ( It’s a date isn’t it?) is the thing you want to tack on, but shut your mouth at such a thought, regardless of anything else this man was your boss ahead of anything else.

You pause even more staring at the pizza in your hand, as Carter starts telling you stories that have you laughing at his antics and the general attitude that all these rich people had, but you could see how this allowed Mr. Baizen to con them, though things didn’t always end up well for him as times either. And while you enjoy the rest of the night, you can’t help but think towards the end  -- when the hell did your view of Carter Baizen change?  

Don’t do it. You’ll just get hurt in the end.    

You hear Rocio’s words ringing in your head, completely unaware that said man was looking at you like you have hung yp all the stars in the sky.

Part 8

[mst3kproject]

520: Radar Secret Service

So here’s a challenge.  My stated goal for this blog is to watch and find something halfway intelligent to say about each and every movie the show ever featured. I’m not sure I can say anything intelligent about Radar Secret Service.  I’m not sure I can say anything stupid about Radar Secret Service.

I don’t know if I can even describe the plot. The introduction is pretty straightforward, explaining to us that the men of the Radar Secret Service can find just about anything, from a school of fish to a hidden murder weapon.  I wonder if anybody’s asked them about the g-spot.  With a tool like that, they could go looking for the Ark of the Covenant or Jimmy Hoffa or something, but instead they’re keeping an eye on a shipment of radioactive material.  Some crooks manage to steal the stuff despite the high-tech surveillance… and that’s where the movie starts to lose me.  I can pay attention to this for about ten minutes, and then my brain just shuts the fuck down.

I mean, I keep trying to watch, I really do.  I don’t know why I can’t.  Radar Secret Service is only sixty minutes long, for crying out loud, surely I can pay attention to something dull and stupid for sixty measly minutes!  I watched the sandstorm sequence in Hercules Against the Moon Men.  I sat through the Rock Climbing in Lost Continent.  Hell, last Thanksgiving I listened to my Dad and my brother-in-law talk about their unfinished home improvement projects for what felt like six days.  Surely Radar Secret Service cannot be the thing that defeats me.  I get myself a snack and my knitting and settle down, but without fail, by that ten minute mark I’ve lost track of who any of the characters are or what they’re supposed to be doing.  My knitting’s on the floor and I’m playing Marvel Puzzle Quest.  Shit.

I start over and try again.  This time I turn off my phone.  I close the blinds.  I do my best to remove all distractions.  I still can’t focus.  The walls of my living room are more interesting than this movie.  I find myself looking at them and wondering what happened to that National Geographic solar system poster I had when I was a kid, the one that showed all the moons to scale.  I mean, it’s horrendously out of date now but it was my favourite poster for ages.  Twelve-year-old me named all the characters in half a dozen unfinished fantasy novels after those moons.  Out of sheer curiosity I googled, and found out that holy shit, you can still buy it! Well, damn, that’s kind of tempting, just for nostalgia’s sake.

Okay, no.  I have to watch the movie.  By twenty minutes in, I still don’t know any of the characters’ names but ‘radar’ no longer sounds like a real word.  In fact, it’s not a real word.  It’s an acronym for RAdio Detection And Ranging.  In the UK it’s also the Royal Association for Dis-Ability Rights, and the Feinberg School of Medicine in Chicago has the Research on Adverse Drug events And Reports committee.  I bet either of those would make a better movie.

Wait, I’ve gotten distracted again. This isn’t working.  Maybe I can watch it in MST3K form.  Radar Secret Service is so short that almost all of it got into the episode.  I could cheat and do a review based on just that. I do remember snickering at the skit about the Quinn Martin nature preserve.  I should look up some of those people on IMDB.  Maybe I can find some material for Episodes that Never Were.  It says Lee Meriwether was in a mad science movie called The 4-D Man, which looks remarkably bad.  I definitely need to see that…

God damn it.

Okay, clearly having a computer at all is too much distraction for me to watch this movie.  I’m gonna have to pop the disk into an actual DVD player and watch it that way.  Some kind of drastic measures are definitely needed here because I’ve written almost an entire page of this review and I have not yet actually managed to watch the fucking movie right through in one sitting.  There’s nothing there to watch.  Where are these people?  Who are they?  They all look and dress and sound alike.  They all have identical mustaches and drive indistinguishable cars – I can’t even tell which is the Radarmobile unless we’re in a wide shot that shows the Christmas ornament on top.  The only reason I’m sure that Waitress and Leopard Lady are two different characters is because they had a scene together at the beginning.  Are they both wearing the same wig?  They’re so alike that when one of them shoots the other I’m tempted to say it counts as suicide.

The characters have no character.  The script imparts nothing to us besides minimal so-called plot information and the performances are dismally bland.  The music is boring.  The direction is listless.  It’s no wonder they picked Oh!! There’s a dead man there!!! as the stinger because it’s literally the only memorable moment in the whole film. I’m not using literally to mean emphatically, either.  I’m using it to mean literally.

Why did they make this movie?  I don’t understand.  It’s not an action flick because there’s no action.  It’s not a drama because there’s no drama.  It’s not a comedy because nothing’s funny.  It’s not sci-fi because there’s no science.  What are we supposed to take away from this experience?  What are we supposed to learn?  The movie is like a black hole, sucking in our hopes for entertainment and hiding them away behind an event horizon of boredom and confusion, from whence they can never be retrieved.  I feel actively stupider for having seen even part of it.

Even if I were to make myself watch it all the way through, from the finding of the gun to the final arrest, in a single sitting, even if I were to force my unwilling brain to recognize every frame of it, what could I possibly say?  There’s nothing to analyze here, no meaning, no metaphor. Even on a technical level, there’s not much I could add to what Mike and the Bots already said.  Yes, everybody looks the same.  No, I have no idea which side most of these identical gray suits with meaty 50’s men in them are on.  No, the people who made this movie have no idea what radar is or what it’s used for.  The Radar Men from the Moon were more relevant to radar than this movie and I don’t think they ever even used the word.

I could just talk about the short.  The short!  A shining beacon of something I can actually pay attention to!  Sadly, the very fact that I could fill a review with my thoughts on Last Clear Chance is surely a sign it deserves an entry of its own.  Where does that leave me?

It leaves me sitting on the sofa, realizing I haven’t paid any attention for the last few minutes because I zoned out dreaming up flowery metaphors for my struggle.  I’m starting to think the only way I could actually watch this is to strap myself into a chair with my head locked in place and tape my eyes open, like something out of A Clockwork Orange.  Even then, I might still manage to get distracted. My entire body is rejecting this movie.  I think I’m making antibodies to it.

I cannot tell you how much I’d rather be watching A Clockwork Orange than Radar Secret Service.  Hell, I’d rather be watching Caligula.  Caligula had stuff to look at.  It had characters with names.

Maybe… wait.  What if Radar Secret Service is actually a brilliant work of art and I’m missing it because I can’t pay attention for long enough?  Maybe it’s a satire of 50’s futurism and tedious moviemaking!  Maybe the ultimate-spy-tool-radar premise is a comment on the erosion of our privacy in an increasingly technological society!  Maybe the reason it’s so hard to tell the heroes from the villains is because the modern world has rendered both concepts irrelevant!  There is no good or evil anymore, just men in suits either giving or obeying orders, no one individual identifiable as the reason why something happens!  Maybe the two women are identical because the filmmakers are trying to point out that patriarchal society turns women against each other and ultimately against themselves!  Of course!  It all makes sense!  How did I not see it before?

I have no memory of typing that last paragraph. What’s going on?

Oh my god.  Oh shit. I know what this is.  It’s the hypno-helio-static-stasis!  I’m already in its clutches!  The world is fading.  I need to inject something thoughtful and entertaining directly into my eyeballs immediately.  There may still be time if I can only reach Netflix…

And suddenly, there it is, looming over me like a glittering spaceship above Devil’s Tower National Monument… like a saving angel… could it really be?  It is!  It’s Close Encounters of the Third Kind!  I reach out for it.  I can already hear its dulcet tones ringing in my ears like a siren song… doo-doo-DAH-doo-DAH…

And then the ship wavers and fades away, leaving only a brushed chrome ball.  My browser’s not even on Netflix.  It’s on DailyMotion, and all that’s playing is a shitty print of Radar Secret Service.

I hope you guys enjoyed my mental disintegration because it’s all the review you’re gonna get.  See you next week.  Fuck this movie.

[irkimatsu]

Talking about OCs makes me miss my old crew... would anyone want to read little profiles on them? It's been a long time, so this is just little things I remember about them as I try to regain contact with them... this post has a main plot summary and profiles for one of the teams, the main team the story focused on. I think it'd take two more posts to cover my entire cast; one for the other plot relevant team, and one for a bunch of side characters that weren't as fleshed out, but that I still had fun with.

One issue with this is that a lot of plot and character details did come from two other people I used to roleplay with... I’m still in contact with both, but we stopped roleplaying years ago. I sometimes struggle to remember what was my idea and what was theirs...

LONG POST ALERT

The main setup of the story was, there's an alternate dimension that's a lot like ours. Everyone looks human, and they developed pretty much the same way we did, with a similar technological level. (For better, and for worse. People are assholes no matter what dimension they're in, sadly.) The main difference, however, is that the people here have the power to manipulate things around them. The elements, objects around them, human bodies... (I had a lot about how this influenced certain major events, including their technology, but alas, those notes are lost to time.) I called these people "Mages", but was always trying to come up with something better. A high-level Mage called Sura discovers the secret to inter-dimensional travel, and gets the idea to travel to other dimensions and see what she can find out there - valuable treasures, powerful secrets, just raid these places with no regard for the people living there. And... the rest of the Mages didn't really have much regard for other people from other dimensions, either. They were generally a very snobbish sort, regarding their magic and way of life as better than any other dimension could possibly have. But they knew on an intellectual level that this was probably bad, so a large number of adult Mages regardless of skill level ended up drafted by the government, known as the Council, and sent to these other worlds to recruit armies and stop Sura. These armies weren't treated very well, more like pawns than anything, but they must listen, it's for their own good, don't they understand? There was very much a "no side of this is innocent" element to the whole thing.

One particular dimension involved in this was Earth. Earth was a curious case; unlike most other peoples, the population here doesn't seem to have any inherent magic at all. Oh, those poor things, how do they survive? But they have one unique trait; they may not have any inner magic of their own, but if they can ally themselves with a magic user - the exact details of this allegiance varies depending on where the magic user came from - they can wield any sort of magic imaginable. They may not be much innately, but when it comes to magical potential, they're the most diverse population anyone has ever seen.

No wonder Sura's interested in studying these people, even if that means tearing their auras apart in the name of science...

Ven:

-A Mage who was drafted to be sent to Earth to train an army. He wants nothing to do with this, but his hands are tied. Responsibility is not his favorite thing in the world.

-Back in his dimension, he worked as a bar host. A total social butterfly; loves talking to and meeting new people, and is very good at modifying his behavior to blend in with groups. ...for the most part. He's also a hopeless flirt, and his social skills drop the more attracted to someone he is. He can be incredibly brazen. Some people like his straightforward style. Others smack him. He's never deterred, though. ...well, he'll probably stop flirting with that particular person once he reaches the smack point, but that's fine, he'll happily skip off to the next possible prospect. He doesn't dwell on missed opportunities for long.

-In general, he's a total perv and slob. Having him as a roomate is... exhausting. Prepare to fish his late night guest's underwear out from the couch cushions and to accept regular deliveries from Internet porn shops...

-Skilled at elemental magic, particularly wind, but that's more from innate talent than actual effort. He could have happily grown up in a world where he didn't have magical powers, and barely uses them in his daily life if he doesn't have to. It's more of a chore than anything. Not very good at anything else at the start. He honestly never expected to be drafted in the first place, given his poor skills, but it seems the higher-ups didn't have many qualifications for the people they chose besides "pulse". Ven is of low status, so he's cattle.

-Doesn't generally agree with his society's high-and-mighty act; would actually love to travel to other dimensions and meet the people there. That's the main reason he doesn't fight against his drafting. He doesn't normally pay attention to politics, though, so it's not like he fights against their bigotry, and he tends to be out of the loop when it comes to more complicated political issues. As time goes on and he learns more about the war, though, he becomes more and more frustrated, to the point where he'll denounce his people entirely if it means protecting Earth. He's met people here that are very worth protecting.

-Sexual preference is "Sure, how much?" Will screw anyone who'll let him, gender be damned. He'd never dream of violating consent, but the second you do consent, Ven can't get to the nearest soft, stable surface with you fast enough. He can be wild and pervy, but he's still a respectful partner who wants to make sure you have a good time, too. He does have a flaw here, though - he's aromantic and doesn't form any particular bond with anyone he sleeps with. He's had plenty of partners he'd never seen before or since. This in itself isn't a flaw, but the idea of bonding through sex is such a foreign concept to him that he tends to ignore the possibility that the other person might not feel the same way. He's upfront about his intentions and believes that's enough; if his partner later ends up developing feelings for him, this can lead to awkward situations that Ven takes no responsibility for, because hey, weren't they warned? Will hopefully get better at this through character development. Will always be aromantic, but could stand to learn some sensitivity toward people who aren’t.

-Short blonde hair, white skin, average height. Usually wearing a white suit. Looking proper is a good way of fitting in with social situations and setting people at ease, you know. (Until someone hot walks in and he turns into a drooling idiot, anyway. And when he's not lounging around on the couch in his boxers. His public and private presentations are VERY different.)

-In an alliance with two Earth girls. They’re teenagers at the start, but some adventures progress through their adulthood. He regards these two as his family and can be very protective of them. They are...

Nicole:

-Hyper!!! Loud!!! Stop!!!

-Actually a bit of a jab against "weeaboo" culture - she definitely had some pretty bad traits there. Random Japanese, shipping people who she had no business shipping... she meant well, she could just be... kind of annoying. She grows out of it.

-The second she's offered the opportunity to be a magical girl she's right on that, hell yeah, gonna be an anime hero! Is stunned to realize it actually takes effort. Comes to like that effort as part of her growth, though.

-After she grows up a little, is the nicest friend you could ever meet. Would give you the shirt off her back, unless she already gave it to someone else, in which case she'll go buy you one. Even if you didn't ask her. Even if you'd rather she didn't. She doesn’t expect anything in return, she just likes helping. It’s what magical girls do! Even if sometimes her ideas of helpful are off the mark.

-Tends to jump into things without thinking. Whether this makes her brave or stupid is your call. You know things have gotten bad when even Nicole is showing hesitation and concern.

-Has a bit of a rave girl aesthetic. Isn't involved in drugs or anything, but she likes going to raves and wearing bright colors. (Her friends don't let her go out to party alone, though. Love her dearly, but they don't trust her recklessness. She'd be way too easy to take advantage of...)

-Her main specialty is in elemental magic, particularly water and ice. Kind of okay at defensive/strength enhancing spells. Crap at healing.

-Pan, and poly in a sense. Romantically monogamous, but doesn't mind physical intimacy with friends, including sex. Wouldn't sleep with a stranger, but could end up with some friends with benefits. Wouldn't mind the same from her partner. As long as everyone's clear on the expectations. Intimacy is good! Love is good! She loves her friends! Why not make them feel good?

-Her skin tone was kind of... ambiguously brown? I never fully settled on an ethnicity for her. My initial instinct is Latina, but given how loud and obnoxious she can be... don't want to fall into stereotypes. Need to think about this one.

-Short little chubber. I used to have an idea where she'd lose weight from her strenuous magical training... but, you know what, fuck that, actually, Nicole's a chubber and always will be

Alice:

-Very different from Nicole. Quiet, hesitant, wants to fade into the background. This is difficult when you're tall and big-chested.

-I purposely tried to design her as a "conventional beauty" - long legs, large chest, long blonde hair, thin... but frankly, she hates it. Dressed very conservatively. Long skirts or pants; thick, high-cut sweaters in a desperate attempt to hide her chest. No case of "and then one day she learned to embrace how very beautiful she was and everyone loved her". No. She'd rather people notice literally anything else about her besides her chest. She didn't ask for the stupid thing...

-Very kind in her own way; is the sort of person who will talk gently to you and listen if that's what you need. She’s a good person to be around if you need someone who seems safe and not intimidating. But on the other hand, if you're loud and brash like a certain someone, she has very little patience. She's easily overwhelmed around obnoxious people, and can very quickly become sarcastic in that case. She didn't so much befriend Nicole; rather, Nicole latched onto her one day and wouldn't leave, constantly yapping at her during lunch and walks home and such, then they ended up on the same magical team and bonded that way. She eventually reaches a point where she'd do anything for Nicole, but at the start, she's more likely to just want to... not kill her, she's pacifistic. But go far, far away from her.

-So much of a pacifist that there's no capacity for combative magic at all in her aura. She can't control the elements like Nicole can; it's just not possible. She's one hell of a healer, though. This makes training her very frustrating for Ven, since he has no idea how healing works. They may need to ask someone else...

-Vegan. Not high and mighty about it, just doesn't like the taste of meat or dairy, so she doesn't eat it.

-Loves reading, especially mystery novels. (Nicole takes this as her cue to get Alice into mystery anime. It actually works.) Anything that involves logical puzzle solving, Alice is into. She's the planner and thinker while Nicole rushes at things. However, this does mean she's generally hesitant to act - nothing would get done without Nicole as the doer.

-Rejected the call to be a magical girl initially. She wanted absolutely nothing to do with the whole mess. But after her parents were kidnapped and killed for Sura's experiments, she felt she had no choice. Ven uses his natural charm (and probably some magical trickery) to convince people that he's Alice's adult brother who'd been living abroad, but came back upon the death of his parents to pay his final respects and to raise Alice. He's moving back into Alice's childhood home so that Alice doesn't have to move halfway across the planet and disrupt her studies and friendships.

-Being on the same team as Ven and Nicole soon becomes frustrating for her. The two of them have so much in common - similar magical specialties, an affinity for socializing, "doer" type personalities... they don't seem to be taking this seriously at all, and Alice feels left out. Ven doesn't even seem to believe they'll ever have to do anything major; let the Council take care of that stuff, he's just here to mess around and because Nicole seems to enjoy learning. Of course they can afford not to take this seriously, they haven't lost someone... one of Sura's minions manages to use Alice's frustrations to manipulate her and turn her against them for some time. It takes them a while to realize this new dark magical girl is Alice, but once they find out, they do eventually snap her out of it.

-Panromantic in the sense that she'll date someone if she really, really likes them, but not too worried about it and wouldn't mind being single forever. She'd rather be single than date someone who isn't perfect for her. Asexual. Not sex-repulsed, but finds it very boring. Might perform some very vanilla acts if her romantic partner really wanted her to, but honestly, that's just time she could be using to read a book or wash dishes or something. Their happiness during the act is nice, but that's all she can get out of it.