#something something the marks you obtain in the pursuit of power | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cherrybombwritesstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Infiltration

My Piece for the Citrus Dome Collab featuring Villain!Hawks :D

Rating: Explicit

Characters: Hawks/ Keigo Takami

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: Kidnapping, Light Bondage, Sub/Dom Dynamics

The night was hot as hell. Strands of hair stuck to your forehead and sweat tickled your cheeks. Summer humidity was bad enough and it was near unbearable to stand while you were stuffed inside a ventilation shaft. Despite its dilapidated state, the old hospital had been locked down tighter than Tartarus. Iron bars at every window, thick, new padlocks with hefty chains strewn across every door. It had taken a while to map out the internal workings of the building and even now with every precaution you had taken, you still prayed your target was blissfully unaware that the entry to the airways could indeed be silently pried open and, were actually big enough for you to fit; as long as you remained stealthy enough. At some points the rusted metal had groaned under your weight, forcing your heart into your throat as you froze and waited. Your target wasn’t due here just yet, in fact he wasn’t due for another hour or so. Patience would reward you on this job, since Hawks was damn near impossible to sneak up on. You would wait as long as it took. Arriving later would run the risk of being seen either by him or some other lackey at his disposal. You would wait, no matter how damned uncomfortable it was or how much you craved a cleansing shower when all of this was said and done.

Minutes ticked by like hours. The only thing worse than the thick air was the encompassing darkness. Well that, or the fuzzy layer of dust that coated the surface of the shaft as well as your clothes. At least it wasn’t your hero outfit, that would have been too recognisable. Every movement through the air ducts had been measured, care taken not to disturb the dirt and knock it into your nose. It was strenuous and your muscles were already aching, but if you managed to obtain the intel you needed, all of this nonsense would be so very worth it. Slowly, gently you adjusted your legs to ease the dull ache forming in them. It would all be worth it, it had to be. A few months back your agency had been informed that Hawks had gone rogue. His double agent activities had been completely hidden from the public, as well as most of the heroes working in the area. Higher ups stuffed in expensive suits were mopping their brows as they revealed the situation. Keigo’s abilities we’re too good, he was the number two hero and they refused to believe he had been captured. The only other reason he would stop all communication was defection. It seemed far fetched to you, but not impossible.

Your breath caught in your throat as your vision suddenly flooded with dull light. Through the thin grating before you, slots of sickly yellow illuminated the cramped space, revealing just how grimy it was and you didn’t wanna think about the metres of muck you’d just crawled through. Heavy double doors swung open in the room beneath you. After all your tracking, shaking down informants and crappy civilian disguises to map out Hawk’s movements, the bastard had deviated his schedule and arrived much earlier than anticipated. That flush of crimson feathers was a dead giveaway as he sauntered over to a desk and took a seat at his leisure. Strangely, he was alone. Adrenaline was rushing through your veins as you peered through the grating from your hidden perch. Tailing this man had been near impossible. Everybody was tightlipped about the whole affair, either through fear or loyalty. Thankfully, the application of alcohol in a seedy, underground bar finally loosened the tongue of a low ranking villain , that and your favourite little black dress. All he gave you was a slurred complaint of his newest colleague and how the “young featherbrained upstart” didn’t know his place.

Hawks breathed out a languid sigh, propping his booted feet onto the desk as he stretched his arms above his head as though he’d just come home from his daily nine to five job. After following the movements of the loudmouth villain, you’d been able to tail the number two hero after a brief meeting. He hadn’t been an easy mark, but at the very least you had a feasible time table for a few evenings out of the week. He always came to this abandoned hospital as a sort of base of operations and up until now, he hadn’t been alone. Your muscles tensed as you continued to watch him, waiting for others to show up, for something tangible to happen that you could record and report back with. After moments of sweet nothing, he pushed himself away from the desk, chair legs screeching across the cracked floor as he gave himself enough room to stand. His wings spread in another stretch with an impressive span that almost hit wall to wall. They shuddered, feathers bristling before he tucked them close to his back once again and started removing his jacket.

At this point you couldn’t blame him, the heat was intolerable regardless of what tiny space you just so happened to be crammed in. That black shirt beneath clung to his skin, tight and form fitted to every curve and bump of his lean muscle. There was no avoiding it; the man was damned beautiful, though you internally kicked yourself for such a thought while you were on a mission. Bringing your focus back to your target proved difficult however when he took hold of the bottom of his shirt and started to lift. Your mouth was cotton dry, even at this angle you could see his firm abdominals as they were slowly revealed. You almost forgot to swallow, biting your lip hard enough to bruise it. Heat was rising, threatening to make you boil beneath your skin. Your stomach felt like it was twisting your guts and you had to grit your teeth to keep your body from twitching. Was this really ok? Granted you were here to spy on the hero but this seemed to take it a step too far. For a second you shut your eyes, carefully wiping your brow before forcing your attention back to Hawks who was now shirtless.

Just as you resigned yourself to your fate, a light tingle fluttered against the back of your neck. You ignored it, brushing off the feeling to remain still. Hawks spread his wings, flapping them as he stood to create a light pulse of air to rush through the grate you were looking through. Dust curled upwards and you felt your nose tickle and your eyes itch. He couldn’t have done that on purpose, he couldn’t have detected you in here just yet. Nose pinched and eyelids fluttering the tears away, you kept quiet and still, until that crawling sensation returned to the back of your neck. It was too firm to be sweat and it couldn’t have been your hair. Nausea swirled in your stomach at the thought of an insect exploring your skin. Gently you reached behind you, especially careful not to shift your weight as you reached for the offending creature. Your eyes bulged in their sockets as your fingertips brushed against a row of soft fronds. Fear swelled in your throat too thick to swallow. Instinctively you snatched and the second your fist curled around the object, you recognised the shape. Still you brought it to the light, dread clawing at your skin as you confirmed the crimson red feather between your fingers.

“Enjoying the show?”

The cocky drawl of his voice had you clenching your jaw. He knew you were here, he knew exactly where you were thanks to that blasted feather. The mission was over; now you were the target. There was no time to reason or bargain, you were dealing with a traitor who just so happened to be one of the strongest heroes in Japan. Golden eyes were now fully focused in your direction, though he couldn’t see you through the metal. His wings shuddered, opening fully before dozens of feathers released around him and pointed straight up. Time to run. Employing your quirk, you lashed yourself to the side of the vent behind you. You moved quickly, drawn to the surface like a magnet until you hit it with both feet. Feathers ripped through the airway and followed your lead, giving you no time to waste. Adjusting your position, you lashed yourself to the next side, effectively reversing back out of the shafts at a frantic speed. Finally you were able to point your feet up and bust back out onto the roof. The weaving vents helped in slowing down the feathers, but you had no doubt they were still following behind. Landing with a clumsy roll, you righted yourself and sprinted to the edge of the hospital.

The breeze was a relief as you focused on the side of another building, the force of your quirk pulling your body towards it as though you’d been thrown. Your quirk had been difficult to master, often it would send you hurtling across a room with no control. Now you could switch it off and on at will, using it to lash yourself to an object as long as it was enough to support your weight. It allowed you to clear impossible distances in one jump, hopefully tonight it would allow you to shake off your pursuer. The city flashed by you in a blur as you picked up speed, rocketing from building to building. You twisted your body, chancing a look behind you. Hawks was following your movements quickly, beating his powerful wings to close the distance. The cocky bastard even had time to put his jacket back on before he gave chase. He would catch you if you continued like this, if not him then the horde of feathers that were also headed your way. It was obvious from his recent activity that Hawks didn’t want to be seen, so you had to bring this pursuit within the view of the public.

Midway through your leap, you cancelled out your quirk and allowed yourself to freefall. Turning your head slightly, you couldn’t resist but throw a mock salute at the winged hero. Though he was a fair distance away, you could have sworn you could see a smirk splitting his face. You dropped between vast blocks of concrete. Before you fell too low, you reached out with your quirk once again and shot your way to the side of an office building. The chase was far from over and despite the stakes, a part of you was enjoying the thrill. You zipped through the city, lashing yourself from structure to structure. Hawks likely wouldn’t follow you himself, but there was a chance his feathers would. Charging through the twists and turns of the city at full speed was rapidly draining your energy. Limbs burned with promises of aches and pain for days to come after this. It didn’t matter though, all you had to do was retreat far enough in one burst then report back to your agency. Your lungs were burning by the time you made it to a dark corner of the city, a quiet area you seldom came to. You let yourself drop, utilising a weak pull of your quirk to drop yourself down and continue on foot.

After rushing into an alley, you finally stopped to check your surroundings. No sign of feathers, no sign of Hawks. For a precaution you gave it a few moments before you allowed yourself to breathe a sigh of relief. Your body ached, covered in a sheen of sticky sweat and who knows what else from the dusty air ducts. As you stripped your kevlar, you tapped your communicator and waited for a reply.

“Hey, I uh hit a snag.” you panted, leaning against the wall for support.

“So I can see, why the sudden escape?” Command had been tracking your movements, though you had to wonder if that had compromised you somehow.

Strictly for rescue they said, you had no reason to argue against it.

“He knew I was there. More than that, he knew I was going to be there ahead of time. The second he arrived he was searching for me.” you explained, sweeping hair from your forehead.

“I see. Are you safe?”

At this point you could only make the assumption that you were. You didn’t think Hawks would risk being seen, not after he’d tried so hard to stay off the radar.

“I’m pretty sure I lost him. Populated area, he won’t want to be seen here. He’s too easily recognised.” you replied, scoping out the buildings nearby.

“He saw my quirk though, probably knows who I am…”

Silence fell from the other line before you heard an exasperated sigh.

“Then we’ll secure your home. I’ll send an escort to pick you up from this hotel, check in and get some rest while you’re waiting.”

You expected as much. Though the thought of Villain lackeys invading your personal space made you sick to your stomach.

“Thanks… I’ll head over there now.”

After the adrenaline filtered out of your system you were left with a lead weight in your gut. The hotel location fed through on your watch and you trudged in it’s direction, limbs tingling and heavy from fatigue. The mission had failed and you had been revealed to the enemy, what a night…

The hotel was pretty basic, not that it mattered. After checking in you had only one thing on your mind, a hot, soothing shower. Even stripping off your clothes was a chore, peeling them from your wet skin, they were left to fall into a heap, kevlar and all. Cooling water hit your flesh like a cleansing wash over your body. A low moan escaped you as you stood beneath the flow, gently covering the entirety of your tired form. Muscled relaxed, your tense shoulders finally dropped and you were finally at a comfortable temperature after enduring that damned humidity. Mulling over the events of the day however, had you rubbing your temples in frustration. How did he know? That wolfish grin stuck in your mind like a splinter. Followed by the image of Hawks casually stripping before your eyes. Maybe you could at least take that as a consolation prize, it was a damned pleasing sight after all. You were almost disappointed that he hadn’t carried the charade on a little longer, given himself enough time to drop those trousers as well.

Mentally you shook yourself, attempting to push the thought out of your head but the more you tried, the deeper it was planted. Your hands roamed your body as you rinsed away the last of the shower gel. The thought of those gold, piercing eyes staring straight into yours sent pleasant tingles beneath your skin. You bit your lip before releasing a breath you didn’t even know you were holding before parting your legs. The mission failed, there was no harm in cheering yourself up a little, was there? The instant your fingers slipped between your thighs you began to feel relief from the building ache. Your breath hitched as you allowed your fingertips to roam the length of your folds before gently circling your already swollen clit. There was no stifling the mewl that drifted from your open mouth. His chiseled face, that cocky smile and that sculpted body were all you could see. You yearned to touch him, flutter your fingertips against his chest, along the ridges of his abs and further still. You wanted to see him above you, caging you in with those powerful arms. Fingers slipped between your slick petals, easily sliding inside you and you sighed in pleasure. Doing this to yourself over a suspected villain no less, was different. The danger, the rush you associated with him only made your body increase in sensitivity and you just couldn’t keep yourself quiet.

“Fuck…” you breathed, leaning against the cool tiling of the shower.

You released a shaky breath, your fingers pulsing faster and faster at the thought of that beautiful man fucking you into next week.

“H-Hawks…”

Whispering his name only heightened the rush. With your free hand you reached for your breast, teasing and rolling your swollen nipple between your fingers.

“Hawks… fuck me Hawks…” you whimpered a little louder for your own benefit.

“Maybe if you ask nicely…”

The world stopped. Your body froze in place. That voice was unmistakable. That outline of a winged man waiting beyond the translucent shower curtain could only belong to one person.

“Oh...shit.” was all you could muster as you pulled your fingers out.

The bathroom became silent once you turned off the water, aside from a few nervous drips that seemed to emulate your pounding heartbeat.

“I’ll save you some face, little bird.” he told you and you could hear the insufferable grin in his voice.

“You can put this on before we have a little...chat.”

He stepped towards the shower, slipping the bathrobe provided by the hotel past the curtain while the rest of him remained respectfully hidden. What choice did you have but to take it? Gingerly you accepted the robe, slipping it over your naked form and gaining back at least a little dignity. Once the belt was tied securely, the curtain was pulled back to reveal your target, free hand settled on his hips.

“Pardon the phrase but, if you come quietly it’ll make it easier on the both of us.”

His tone was almost sickeningly pleasant and you could feel heat rushing to your cheeks. He offered his hand to you, which understandably you were very hesitant to take. His smile faded, golden eyes flashing dangerously every second that lurched by.

“I don’t have time for this.” he said bluntly.

Some of his larger feathers detached, floating to his sides to point directly at your throat. You lifted your head and backed away, knowing just how deadly these crimson blades could be.

“If you’re gonna be stubborn about it, you can take a nap.”

Before you could react, Hawks pulled a small capsule from his pocket and flicked it straight at you. Before it made impact, it split in two and it’s contents and burst into a small cloud of fine powder. You flinched and turned your head but it made no difference. The powder hit your nostrils and the effect was almost instant. Your head felt heavy as it swayed, your legs buckling as you were overwhelmed by a sickening dizziness. Darkness enveloped the corners of your vision as you fell forward, caught by a pair of strong arms before everything faded to black.

The ground was cold beneath your bare feet. Your head lolled back in your sleepy haze. A firm grip bruised your wrist until your arms were locked into place above your head. Once the hold was released, you slumped to your knees and landed clumsily on a floor of concrete. Slowly your senses sharpened. A musty, damp scent filled your nose. The sticky humidity of the night air was chased away by the chill of your wet hair. Your limbs were still weak, bones as useful as jelly as your eyelids fluttered open. The light was dim and it took a while for your eyes to adjust. Warm fingertips slid against your jaw, gently lifting your head as a bottle of water was placed against your parted lips.

“Drink up little bird, don’t want you getting sick on me now…”

His voice could have been soothing in the right setting. But Hawks wasn’t playing the part of a hero anymore.

“How considerate…” you mumbled, blurred vision slowly climbing back to normalcy.

He chuckled, dragging a steel chair to sit across backwards.

“Still got that smart mouth even now... does that make you gutsy, or stupid?”

Tugging at your wrists proved worthless. The rope was secured tight, fastened neatly around both arms yet surprisingly it wasn’t uncomfortable.

“Which one gets me outta here alive?” you replied back, a weak smile forming on your lips.

He clicked his teeth, wings folding neatly behind him as he rest his chin on his forearms.

“Oh does it have to be so final? I just wanted to ask you some questions…”

He sounded eerily calm, as though he hadn’t just kidnapped a pro hero and tied them up in a grungy warehouse. You shifted your weight, the drowsy feeling now dissolved into irritating tingles throughout your arms and legs.

“My name is (y/n), I like long walks on the beach if you wanna know my star sign is-”

A bark of laughter cut you off.

“Funny little bird, aren’t you?” he said between giggling, “But the sooner you comply, the quicker we can get outta here… so let’s get serious…”

His tone lowered, his gaze fixed with those dangerous golden orbs locked with yours. Casually he plucked out a feather, idly twirling between his fingers.

“I already know your agency, figured that much out when I saw your quirk.”

Your lips pressed together in a tight line. If Hawks was working with the Villains now, did that mean he could focus their attention on you? A shudder danced up your spine and you weren’t sure if it was due to the cold, or the way Hawks was looking you up and down, like a predator cornering it’s wounded prey.

“But I wanna know who put you on this mission, which suit gave the order to spy on me?”

It was a simple enough question, too bad you didn’t have a decent answer for him. Averting your gaze, you chewed your bottom lip as you tried to access the situation. Part of you wanted to believe Hawks hadn’t quite crossed over to the other side, that he wouldn’t harm you even if you didn’t obey him. He clicked his teeth and released the feather.

“C’mon now little bird, don’t force my hand here…” he grunted.

You watched as the scarlet blade floated closer, inching it’s way nearer to your face. In a split second more had joined of various sizes, all pointed at your prone body.

“I’m sure you know these feathers aren’t gonna tickle, so how about you tell me what I need to know…”

His face had darkened, his grip on the back of the chair tightened making it creak.

“I… I don’t know. I wasn’t there for the meeting, I was just asked to take this on by my usual team…” you meekly replied, gauging his face for some sort of reaction.

He simply stared for a moment before exhaling a breath he’d apparently been holding. Yet the feathers remained pointed at you.

“Fine. Then what were your orders?”

He sighed out that last question. In the low light you could just about see dark circles resting beneath both eyes. His hair was in it’s usual shaggy style, flopping over his brow in strands that you wanted to smooth back in spite of yourself. Yet there were more than a few fly aways, something a little more unkempt to what you were used to seeing.

“Uh, you want me to recount the entire briefing?” you bit back with a raised eyebrow.

The chair screeched as he shoved it away, stepping clear of it to close the gap between you and crouch down to your level. At this proximity you could smell his cologne, along with another scent reminiscent of baked goods. Even now, tied up with feather blades inches away from cutting your flesh, you could feel the heat at your core returning. He said nothing, instead letting his deadpan expression make the threats for him.

“L-look I… I don’t have any details. You stopped contact with the Heroes, they sent somebody to check on you.”

It was true to a point. You weren’t entirely sure what else he needed to hear, but you stopped searching for extras when that smile slowly reappeared on his handsome face.

“They sent you. A fresh faced new hero to catch me in the act. They sent you after the number two hero expecting a job well done?”

His feathers drooped, turning away from you before they fit back into his wings as he stretched them out to accommodate. His head dropped, fingers pinching his brow in frustration. His words stung. It was true you were a relatively new hero, but you had still made it into a prestigious agency. Hawks rubbed his eyes before raising his gaze back up to meet yours.

“Oh little bird don’t give me that face, you’ll break my heart.”

He reached out, tucking wayward hair back behind your ear. His fingertips barely grazed your skin, yet the effect was powerful. Gooseflesh erupted down your arms and a tingling shiver rattled your limbs.

“Honestly I was impressed. You’re scarily good at covering your tracks. The only problem is when you find a mark with a big mouth, the information goes both ways.” he grinned.

You flashed back to your nights at the bar. The suited man you had flirted relentlessly with for just a hint of a trail must have mentioned you to his colleagues. As careful as you had been in your line of questioning, it stood to reason that Hawks would have been overly cautious about who had his name in their mouth. Your head dropped a little, a defeated smile on your face.

“I guess the gamble didn’t quite pay off…” you lamented, shifting your legs and pressing your thighs together.

He was still close, close enough to feel the warmth of his skin even when he wasn’t directly touching you.

“That’s the way it goes sometimes… Though I have to say I’m disappointed I didn’t get to see the short, black number he described… what was it he said exactly? That it left nothing to the imagination?”

Oh now he looked damned pleased with himself. That wolfish grin urged you to shuffle back against the wall as much as you could, not that you could go any further. Blood rushed to your cheeks and your eyes were wide and unblinking. THis cocky bastard was flirting.

“W-well I don’t see how you can complain given you caught me in my birthday suit!”

The words came out of your mouth before your brain could catch up and stop you. He caught you alright, he caught you two fingers deep and calling out his damned name and you just reminded him of that. He held up his hand, eyes sparkling in amusement.

“Ah no, I saw your silhouette. I wouldn’t peek on a lady taking a shower, I’m not some sort of pervert…”

Something about his crooked smile sparked rebellion. You pulled at your ropes and moved closer to him.

“Oh? Then what was with that mini strip show at the hospital?”

Your voice wavered a little more than you wanted it to. Hawks’s wings twitched and he turned his head to the side.

“Did you enjoy the view, little bird?”

His voice spilled from him like liquid velvet. Your breath hitched, heart drumming obnoxiously against your chest and he was getting closer.

“Is this how I’ll get my answers from you? With honey instead of vinegar…”

He was an inch away. If your hands weren’t bound you could have touched him so easily. He rocked onto his knees, his fingers curled beneath your chin to keep you still.

“Why don’t we recreate that little fantasy you were having at the hotel…”

His voice was a whisper before his lips pressed against yours. His mouth was hot, demanding and suffocating, everything you imagined it would be. You whimpered against him, wide eyes shutting as you dropped your defenses and fell into his movements.

“What a pretty sound…” he growled, breaking the kiss with a bite on your bottom lip. “I wanna hear more…”

You gasped as he trailed a path of kisses along your jawline, locks of hair tickling your face as he closed in on your sensitive neck. Teeth grazing your skin left you breathless and wanting. Fingertips trailed up your exposed thigh, giving it a firm squeeze as his lips and tongue continued to toy with you.

“Ah-Hawks…” you breathed, voice shamelessly laden with lust.

He hummed as he sucked your flesh, biting down softly.

“D-did you betray the heroes? Are you… are you really working with the Villains?”

His mouth stilled, leaving a soft kiss behind before he pulled back to meet your gaze.

“If I say yes, will you want me to stop?” he asked simply, hand resting on your leg.

The hero side of you screamed internally. You couldn’t sleep with a goddamned traitor, you were supposed to be part of the solution. A role model, a shining light in the dark. Yet for weeks on end this man had occupied your thoughts. You had gone to extreme lengths to find him, reading up about every little detail you could to get to know him. It had become something of an obsession, the drive to succeed and impress your agency transformed into figuring out the mystery that was Keigo. And now he had you captured and the only feeling that was clear in the confusion was the heat thrumming from your core.

“..No, I don’t want you to stop…” you admitted, falling further into the pit.

His feathers bristled, audibly rustling before they settled once again. His shoulders dropped, as though tension had been released.

“Good… cause I really didn’t want to.”

He captured your mouth again, kissing you without restraint. His hands slipped beneath your thighs and suddenly you were lifted as he stood. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively. The rope binding you was slack yet you were still restrained, pushed up against the wall and trapped between it and the muscular body pressing your front. He took your arms and looped them around his neck, ensuring you were both trapped with each other.

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” he growled as he bit your neck, sucking and bruising it, marking you as his.

“You’re not the only one who’s been spying little bird…”

You wanted to respond, hell you would have if your head wasn’t swimming in lust as though it was the only thing that mattered. One arm was all he needed to hold you steady, while the other slipped between you and untied the belt to your gown.

“Once I knew you were tailing me, I had to know more.”

The robe fell open, exposing you completely to him. He took his sweet time, fingertips trailing a line between your breasts.

“You’re a hardworking hero… throwing yourself at danger whenever you can…”

Your mouth fell open in a needy mewl as he took hold of your breast and ran his thumb over your nipple.

“Y-you… you were watching me?” you moaned.

He closed his lips over the swollen bud, tongue circling and flicking and teasing. Your hips rolled against him and he groaned against your skin as you pressed against his painfully hard cock that was still trapped in his clothes. He released your nipple with a gentle bite.

“A little… but it was enough.”

He drifted lower, drawing a light pattern on your tummy, looping your hip bone before finally slipping between your wide open legs. He sucked his teeth as he gently slid a finger tip over your clit and down to your swollen, silken petals.

“Fffffuck… you’re so wet for me little bird.”

He growled at your ear, slowly toying with your slick flesh. You threw your head back and moaned without restraint, shifting your hips in an attempt for more much needed friction.

“E-enough f-for what?” you managed to ask, lips trembling as you spoke.

His hand stilled and he gave you a soft kiss before he plunged two of his long fingers inside you.

“Enough for me to know I fucking wanted you…”

You practically squealed, your soaking wet hole welcoming him with ease. He pressed upwards, curling his finger against that soft, spongy flesh he knew would drive you crazy.

“Damn… this pussy feels good little bird, so fuckin’ tight…”

He added a second finger and fucked you with them, pumping in and out of you vigorously. You barely noticed when he let you go with his other arm given how hard you were clinging to him. He unzipped his fly and popped the button, his belt jingling as he let it fall with the waistband of his pants. Your breath came in short, sharp gasps as you moved with his rhythm, desperate for more, needing to be filled.

“Fuck! H-Hawks… please!”

So ready for him it hurt, a tingling ache that could only be sated by him. He shoved his mouth against yours, muffling your desperate mewls.

“You know what I’m waiting for baby… say it again for me, I need to hear it…”

He was just as breathless as you, his cheeks and ears tinged a bright pink.

“Fuck me, Hawks… please? Oh god fuck me Hawks!”

He cursed like a sailor, snarling as he grabbed your hips squeezing hard enough to leave bruises.

“Good girl…” was all he could manage before fully sheathing himself within your tight entrance.

He took a second to adjust, groaning against your neck as though he felt the same sense of relief that you did. Locked together, holding on tight as you could and your toes curled when he shifted his hips and finally started to thrust.

“Oh fuck… little bird you feel better than I imagined… fuuuuck…”

Your cries echoed throughout the warehouse. The huge space filled with the noise of your clashing flesh. He filled you so well, hitting every sensitive spot inside you and you could feel your core tighten with pleasure, building up to that explosive release you so desperately needed.

“Yeah baby, keep makin’ those sounds… I fuckin’ live for them…”

His hair was splayed in locks over his face and his forehead was shiny with sweat. He grit his teeth, face contorted with animalistic pleasure and you couldn’t help but think that he was more beautiful than ever. With your arms still clasped around his neck, you pulled him into a kiss, tongue hungrily invading his mouth as he continued to fuck you up against the wall.

“K-Keigo… oh god…”

He grunted against you, pushing himself deeper inside. Your thighs trembled as they gripped his slim waist.

“What is it little bird… you wanna cum for me?”

His teeth raked along the shell of your ear, his voice vibrating against it.

“Then start fucking begging…”

Your voice collapsed into a needy whine. His demands simultaneously frustrated and exhilarated you, enhancing every touch, every thrust of his hips and lick of his tongue. He owned you in this moment and god you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“P-please… Keigo please I need it!”

Your eyes brimmed with unshed tears as the build slowed along with his pace. He filled you to the hilt, only to slowly retract, making you jerk your hips for more friction.

“Please make me cum… Please make me cum Keigo!”

He groaned low in his chest, kissing your ear before he adjusted his position.

“Ooohh that’s it, good girl… such a fucking good girl.”

His arm slipped between you, his thumb gently pressing against that swollen pearl of nerves. He circled it, moving it in rhythm with his powerful trusts. Heat spread from your core, like flames licking at your skin. Your limbs were trembling as he pulled you to the brink, you couldn’t think and you could barely breathe as he fucked you closer and closer to that freeing release you were both craving.

“Fuck little bird… fuck I’m gonna…”

You cried out his name, morals thoroughly abandoned as you thanked him for every touch, every thrust he gave to you. Darkness teased at the corners of your vision, threatening to pull you under as waves of white, hot pleasure rocked through your body. Your grip around him tightened, as did his around you and he continued to fuck you hard through your climax. It didn’t take much for him to reach his own, mouth hanging open as he moaned your name, painting the walls of your cunt with thick, streams of cum. His forearm crashed against the wall, ensuring he didn’t crush you when he slumped forward, his forehead resting gently against yours as you both panted for air. He let loose a breathy chuckle as he carefully pulled himself out.

“That did it for you huh? You wanted to get nasty and fuck a Villain?” he breathed, unhooking your tired arms from around his neck.

Carefully he lowered your legs, allowing you to stand with his assistance.

“No… just you.”

Your answer seemed to catch him off guard. Arrogance drained from his features and was replaced by a genuine, almost shy smile. Using the wall for support, you wrapped yourself back up in the robe. But still your legs were bare and your feet were pressed against a relentlessly cold floor, sending an unwelcome shiver up your spine. Hawks’ mouth pressed into a tight line as he buckled himself back up again.

“Come here little bird…”

This time you took his hand, letting him turn you around and hold you from behind. His wings spread, wrapping around the both of you in a welcomingly soft cocoon. You hummed as you felt their warmth, snuggling a little closer in his arms.

“You know… the Heroes Association sent you as bait.” he began, his mouth moving against your scalp.

“They got no proof I’ve done anything wrong, not yet. So they sent a naive little hero after me… hoping I would be pushed into doing something desperate to cover my tracks…”

You turned your head, catching his tired eyes with yours.

“Are you doing something wrong Hawks?”

The wings around you shivered and a breeze of air ruffled your hair as he sighed above you.

“There’s… there’s something I have to do and… the Villains can help me do that.”

His hands seemed to tense up against you as he waited for your response.

“And the heroes can’t?”

His hands met your waist and he turned you to face him, keeping his wings in place.

“The heroes are the problem little bird.”

His knuckles grazed your cheekbone and for once you saw no trace of that trademark confidence in his face.

“I’m tired of those untouchable bastards pulling the strings and watching us puppets dance.”

Something about him was so sincere, so vulnerable that you couldn’t find it in yourself to call him a liar. There had been rumors and whisperings since you started getting scouted, corruption at the top of the chain. Maybe that’s what he was referring to.

“Then… does that mean you won’t accept help from a hero anymore?”

He huffed a stifled laugh, kissing you softly on your nose.

“That depends on the hero. Maybe I could be persuaded…”

#bnha hawks #bnha fanfiction #bnha #mha #villain!hawks #keigo takami

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decennia · 3 years ago

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Okay I’ve tried to restrain myself but I must know….tell me all about your Grishaverse OCs!!!!!

OMFG WAIT WAIT WAIT THIS IS MY MOMENT MY WHOLE LIFE HAS BEEN LEADING UP TO THIS–

I have some who are introduced, and some who aren't yet. They are as follows:

First, there's Katya Starkov, Alina's long lost older sister. She's known as the Shadowbane, and makes her fortune in volcra corpses. Their family attempted to cross the Fold, but were attacked by volcra, resulting in the death of their parents. Alina's abilities instinctively came out and saved them, but irreperably blinded Katya. Alina gets taken back to the East, while Katya made her way out to the West. She returns to the Fold to retrieve her family for a funeral, but when she cannot find Alina, she assumes the worst. Profiting off what others perceive as a disability, Katya masters the Unsea, perpetually living in darkness. When she discovers Alina is alive, she joins the Crows to retrieve her.

Next we have the Ander sisters, Sigrid and Ida.

Sigrid is the Drüskelle Helgen of Fjerda – a Saint. She isn't Grisha, but is impervious to Grishaflame. She's engaged to Eirik Helvar, Matthias' older brother.

Ida is a Fjerdan scholar, specializing in the study of Grisha artifacts and Ravkan lore. She obtains a Grisha tome from one of General Kirigan's hunting parties that wandered into Fjerdan territory, and discovers his intention of locating Morozova's Stag. When she goes to her sister with this information, knowing that the Drüskelle would listen to their saint, Sigrid ignores her pleas, instead focusing her attentions on locating Matthias.

Ida decides to find the stag herself, and escapes in the night. Sigrid goes in pursuit, knowing how precarious her title truly is, how easy it would he to name her a witch and have her hanged if she loses the favour of Fjerda. What kind of Saint is she if she cannot protect her sister and brother to be?

Ida eventually encounters the wounded Mal, and nurses him back to health. They part ways, only to run into each other again at the Fete.

And lastly , of the semi-introduced, we have Neyar Kir-Kasem. Also known as Silvertongue, she is the daughter of a Shu tailor (an actual tailor, not a Grisha). In spite of residing in the Barrel, her father comes highly recommended and is favored by even noblemen, and especially one Kaz Brekker. She shares her father's gift of the craft, and his ability to know someone's exact measurements from a mere glance – making them equally invaluable to the touch averse criminal mastermind that is Mr Brekker. Neyar, however, fancies herself an actress, and is quite a word smith. She isn't Grisha, but she is believed to be, as she can sell you any story, all while stripping your pockets of all its contents, save for the lining – and you wouldn't even notice.

The first of my unintroduced Grishaverse OCs: Vasilisa Ustrashkin. She is a Darkling OC, and, up until recently with the trickery of Kaz Brekker, the sole survivor of the Darkling's Cut. She's an Inferni, powered by a Morozova amplifier, granting her long life. She was a maid at the Grand Palace, and when Aleksander was brought into the King's employ, they became allies, and later, close friends. She fell in love with a Zemeni diplomat, but when Aleksander suspected him of being a threat to Grisha, he made an attempt on his life – one which Vasilisa foiled. Or at least tried to; she survived the Cut, permanently disfiguring her face, but the second found its mark. Atop the corpse of her love, she vowed that one day, when he least expected it, when she was nothing more than a bad memory, when he was happy, when he had something to lose – someone to lose – she would return, and she would take everything from him, like he did her. Years came and went, and although Aleksander never forgot, he had hoped Vasilisa had. And then he found his Sun Summoner, and he knew it was not Fjerdan witchhunters nor Shu assassins that were deserving of his agitation. No, it was the vengeful Vasilisa Ustrashkin, who had come to collect what she was owed.

And the second literally came to me today when I saw the slightest resemblance between Harrison Gilbertson and Freddy Carter, and decided "hey, let's make a Kaz Brekker brother OC." So I know nothing about him, other than his face. I have no name, no plot, nothing. But he's a possibility!

I've mentioned Eirik Helvar, but he's more of a side character. He's a Mattias' older brother, and a total Fjerdan golden boy. He drinks his Respect Women juice (though he does still have traces of the Fjerdan misogyny in him), and he's just... himbo supremacy.

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valorxdrive · 3 years ago

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Do you think you're a Keyblade Master?

♕ - Somehow this topic finds itself always meshed in the inbetweens of his thoughts and feelings. An unknown significance on one hand, yet, another carries a feeling that to become a Keyblade Master means to arm himself with essentials inside and out for what’s to come in the future.

He’s gained a good bit of time of being away from the concept. Of how those frustrations were fought off with furious training afterwards, selfishly clawing back lost power, to times where disheartened, far from social sit downs were made in order to just reflect. To become a Master in his head current is a self-satisfying pursuit for something bigger. Sora is no longer ignorant that it’s a particular plateau that requires something he may be missing still. After all, his initial step into the Mark of Mastery hadn’t been with the vested interest of a more selfish candle.

Obtain the Power of Waking. Discover and help any and all along that said path.

“I’m.. not really sure.” Sora admits, a touch relieved he could be honest on the matter. He wasn’t going to pretend he’s in the know of subjects he isn’t. “You don’t fight a bunch to become a master, even if holding strength is a part. At other times I wonder if being a Keyblade Master means like you become some kinda guardian over everything.. but then again, I do that much as I am now. So I feel like above anything else, I’m kind of lost on what it is you embrace to really become one. I don’t think it’s really a bad thing either.”

”And personally? I want to step into my next Mark of Mastery by my own volition. We were under emergency times to be fair. I’d like to know what I’m actually getting into by getting the Mark. I want it for all means to be a test for myself and not anyone else.” Does he feel as if he’s ready? That again truly is hard to tell, the more the keybearer ponders on it, the more it feels like there’s no true designated time to make that leap.

What he does recognize is the very important instilled within his grip, whenever the Kingdom Key answers his call.

#Anon #| Bottle Mail #Ah. The age old question #Fighting his self doubts recently I think #Would widen his perceptions on the matter.#He's not bitter as more as he'd like to learn about himself #and the relationship to this matter

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ka-za-ri · 4 years ago

Text

Descent Pt. 7

Hi! I spent the last three days writing this chapter by smashing my head against the keyboard! I hope you enjoy! Also, SURPRISE! Lucifer!

Chapter Index and Obey Me! Masterlist: here Ao3 Mirror: Here Part [1] Part [2] Part [3] Part 4: [4] Part [5] Part [6] Part [7] Part [8] Part [9] Part [10]

Pairing: Simeon x Lucifer x Reader Genre: Smut Wordcount: 6,200 ish Tags: Angst, Self harm/Self Mutilation, threesome F/M/M, Voyeurism, spitroasting Summary: Simeon asks for forgiveness and for a helping hand to finish his book.

Drip

He could ask for your forgiveness all he wanted, but you were under no obligation to give it to him. It was to be expected that you would pull away from him as soon as you awoke. It didn’t surprise him at all when you couldn’t bear to stand his touches. He deserved it for pushing too far.

He could ask for forgiveness, but God had long forsaken him.

Distance made the pain more tolerable. As long as he turned his mind off from everything else, he could imagine that it had all been a terrible dream that fueled his writing. If he focused everything he had to the sound of fingers on the keyboard, he wouldn’t have to think about the way you choked out his pen name, the despair in your eyes or the tears streaming down your face when you begged for mercy. He didn’t want to think about how shameful it was for him to be elated to see those desperate expressions from you.

He didn’t ask if your cuts and wounds were healing well. He knew they would. The inperceivable amount of magic he had used on you while you were passed out in his arms would ensure that. The only thing he wasn’t sure about anymore was his relationship with you and how you felt about him after what he put you through.

You managed to somehow keep things cordial. Despite what happened, you were both professionals in your field. Deadlines didn’t change just because of a botched session. You still had to read through his words and relive everything he did to you. It was mandatory to stay objective and help him create the most immaculate product possible. In the end, it was all about business and you had learned long ago to separate work from your personal life. It was just unfortunate that your personal life had also become your work with your current project.

The distraction of work didn’t stop the pain though. It didn’t stop you from waking up covered in a cold sweat every other night having dreamed of those dangerous dark eyes. You hadn’t gone to see him ever since that day, not like you really could. You weren’t sure if you really wanted to see him again. Work was piling up, the world around you kept spinning even if yours had stopped momentarily. Regardless of what your feelings were, you needed to run to keep up with the world and didn’t have time to think of yourself.

The scars he left behind healed well, they left no marks except for the invisible ones he carved into your heart that day. You could still feel the cold steel of the knife being dragged slowly across your skin, right at your ribs as he spelled his name, made you his and owned you for a brief moment in time. The cuts to the corners of your mouth and tongue healed remarkably quickly without leaving any blemishes. But the ghosting feeling of something cold and sharp never seemed to disappear along with the scabs.

Days melded into one another. You were able to bury yourself into work, wrecking whatever sleep schedule you normally had to distract yourself from reality. Piles upon piles of manuscripts all melted into one another and you slowly lost track of who wrote what along with the remnants of your sanity. The crinkle of paper as you turned pages was the last physical reminder that your reality was intimately tied to Simeon regardless of how much you wanted to get away from him.

Distance made things easier to bear. The need to stay separated was mutual. Simeon had a lot to reflect on and a lot to do. For the most part, his manuscript was done. The only thing he had left was the concluding chapter. He couldn’t bring himself to write it. Every time he put his fingers on the keyboard, he thought of you and everything you had done for him along with everything you did with him. His book had became an oddly intimate look at his desires and the inevitable end that he needed to write.

His eyes ached from staring at the screen for so long. The blinking cursor on the document taunted him. No matter how many times he wrote and rewrote, the ending wouldn’t come out right. He needed you the most, yet he could not rely on you when you were so far away. Toys had gotten him so far, but describing the intimacy of affection between two humans felt like an insurmountable task. There had to be away around it. The heavy burden of sin weighed on his shoulders as he warred with himself. His name, his reputation, all for the fall? It was impossible.

He had to see a way through it.

Until he could figure it out; he deserved every little bit of scorn you threw at him. Every passing day, hour, minute, and second that went without being in contact with you drained him. The color in his world slowly disappeared until there was nothing but the black text on white paper.

It started just at the corner of his vision. In his dark office, it was easy to ignore when his focus was on the words in front of him. It was easy to pretend nothing was wrong when he went to get a cup of tea. But, the change was definite and true. Soon enough, he wondered just when did he own so many mugs in various shades of gray.

Ah, so this is what it’s come to. I suppose it’s fitting.

He could feel his senses slowly seeping away from him, ashamed of everything he did. He held the facade of an upright and chivalrous angel, but internally he was a husk of himself. Somehow, he had managed to become a demon without falling from grace. He supposed it should have been considered a miracle. It meant that not all hope was lost. If he applied himself, then surely he could claw his way out of the hole he created.

If.

If only he cared enough to do such a thing. Living as a shell seemed to be so much easier than pretending he was immune to human temptation. In pursuit of a perfect craft, he lost himself to all the allure the human realm had to offer. Two steps away from the gates of Hell, there seemed to be no turning back. Sacrifices had to be made in order to obtain perfection. Perhaps selling his soul to the devil was the last option he had to achieve it. It would be a worthy price to pay.

Pain made it easier to bear the weight of sin. It wasn’t a modern method by any means, but it brought him closer to the light once more. He repented with every crack of the whip upon his back, every scar he inflicted on himself. For every drop of blood he shed, he returned to the good he dedicated so much of his life to. The injuries would heal within a day, but the lingering ache would linger across his skin. The pain made him forget you and remember who he was. He was good. He was good.

He was good.

The most poignant thing he learned in the world of humans was the emotion of fear. That deep terror within him stirred as he thought of losing everything he had with change. After centuries of living, Simeon never doubted his powers or his wisdom until he had his finger hovering over your contact number to call and beg you for help. His hand shook while he stared blankly at the screen in front of him. He was so close to the end, yet so far away from the one person who would get him there. He was better than this, but he didn’t want anything greater than what he had created with you.

His simmering desires for you convinced him to call while the last vestiges of his goodness prevented him from making the call. He lost track of just how many hours he berated himself mentally all the while staring at numbers on his phone screen taunting him to take those last few steps to Hell.

And then. A light in his darkness.

[SMS: Do you need help?]

You knew exactly why he had been ignoring all your emails and your attempts at contacting him. You had needed your own time to heal and process everything that happened. Nearly a month had passed without a peep from him and you sincerely started to wonder if Simeon was alright. He canceled an unprecedented number of appearances and interviews. The PR mess that followed from that was enough to make you lose a full week of sleep. You didn’t blame him though, after you left his home that night when the storm finally passed, he seemed so tired.

You didn’t want to push the issue if you could help it. The book was almost complete. You had read it so many times over in your editing you swore you had a majority of it memorized. With only the final chapter missing, you could predict where his story was going, and the man rarely ever strayed from his outlines. An intimate and loving scene with his protagonist and her love interest who saved her from the clutches of evil was in order.

With the nature of the subject and were your relationship had just taken a turn to, you weren’t surprised at all he hadn’t submitted anything to you. Three days before your final deadlines and he still hadn’t contacted you. It was so uncharacteristic of him to turn in his work late; you had to take the initiative to get him to finish on time. So, it was a fair amount of despair that you sent that text, asking him if he needed help. Even if you skin crawled just thinking about being touched by him, you needed to do your job.

You clenched your phone, waiting for the screen to light up, your knuckles turning white from the force of your grip. You didn’t want to do this, but you had to. Someone had to be the adult and take one for the team. With Simeon’s name being so revered, it was clear to you that the minor sacrifice of your comfort for one more session with him would be worth it in the end.

So why couldn’t you stop yourself from crying?

The way he lilted his voice when he chased you still haunted your dreams at night. No matter how many blankets you wrapped around you could save you from the chill of that dreaded cold knife he dragged across your skin. There was no point in distancing yourself from him. Despite what happened, he was good. Having spent years working with him, you were sure you had a firm grasp of who he was as a person.

“Do you trust me?”

“I do...”

[SMS: come see me when you can]

You let out an earth shattering sigh. Whether it was from relief or from fear, you didn’t know. What you did know that it would all be over soon. The stress of the book, the anxiety you felt about Simeon, the pain that spread across your chest every time you thought about him, all of it would be over as soon as you got to see him again and figure it all out in person.

There was a terrible little part of you that was so curious about how he was going to solve the last piece of the puzzle to his book. The only way to find out was to go see him.

“What a surprise. A call from the great Christopher Peugeot himself.”

“Listen.”

“I am. Go on.”

Simeon sighed, already regretting the call he was making. After receiving your text, he wracked his brain for a solution to the ending of his book. He was so close, he could feel it; but the guilt he felt towards you prevented him from taking what he craved. It was after much agonizing and staring blankly at a wall that the idea struck him. He’d have to take matters in his own hands and direct the ending himself.

For that, he needed an extra helping hand.

Which is what landed him in the situation he was in at the current moment. Bargaining with the devil to help him. He didn’t think he’d stoop so low to pull on old connections. Yet, there he was, on the phone with someone he hadn’t spoken to in decades.

“I need your help…” Simeon admitted, still struggling with voicing his needs.

“Well, I assumed as much if you’re making the effort to talk on a personal line. How long has it been since I gave you this number? Twenty? Thirty years, now?”

“Twenty-seven, but that’s besides the point.” Simeon could feel the inkling of frustration creeping into his voice. His old friend always had the ability to pull out the worst in him. Spending over half a century in the human realm, they managed to stay out of each other’s hair for the most part.

His friend chuckled on the other side of the line. “Alright, what can I do for you?”

“Are you free this weekend? I uhm… I need some help with the last scene of my book.”

“Oh? The great Christopher Peugeot himself needs assistance from me? I’m flattered you’d consider me.”

“Just call me Simeon, Lucifer. Stop playing around.”

“I’ll clear up my schedule. I wouldn’t miss the chance to help you.”

Simeon sighed. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or terrified that Lucifer agreed to help him out. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

“Oh, I know.” Lucifer was practically singing on the other end with smug excitement. “Should I prepare for anything in particular?”

“I… Uhm… I can explain when you get here.”

“Always the mysterious one...” Lucifer chided, chuckling softly. He didn’t push the subject any further and Simeon was glad for it. “From what I’ve seen from the press releases of your upcoming title, I can only assume I’ll need to wear my best underwear.”

“Do whatever you want. I’ll see you this weekend.” Simeon grumbled before ending the call. His face felt like it was on fire. He didn’t think he had hit rock bottom until he made an agreement with the devil.

It was truly unfortunate that the devil was the only person he could trust with this task.

“Oh, welcome! Come on in. We’ve been waiting.” The actual CEO of Akuzon was the last person you expected to see when you arrived at Simeon’s home that weekend. To say you were stunned was an understatement. You were stuck standing at the doorway, mouth agape and eyes wide, looking like a fool. It took a surprising amount of prying to get you to move past the door and into the home.

Simeon was already hard at work in the living room, typing frantically while Lucifer ushered you in. The grin on his face was full of mirth and amusement. It was clear he knew exactly the effect he had on people and he wasn’t pulling any punches when it came to throwing the weight of his power around.

“Simeon and I go way back.” Lucifer explained, taking a seat once he was sure you weren’t going to faint from shock. “When he asked me to help him out, there was no way I could deny him.”

Your words needed to catch up with your brain as the pieces started to clicked together. All you could manage was a lame “Ah.” You nodded slowly, looking back and forth between the two men, waiting for someone to confirm your suspicions.

Simeon finished typing and finally looked up. It seemed like he wanted to approach you, but he stayed put, unable to bring himself to get closer to you without your permission. “I cannot ask for you to trust me again. Not after what I put you through. I… I still need help with the last chapter of this book. So, I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but would you be comfortable with putting your trust in him?”

You blinked rapidly digesting what Simeon was proposing. You slowly turned your head to look at Lucifer who was casually lounging in his seat, his head resting on his propped up arm. A knowing smirk on his face while he waited for your answer. He practically exuded endless charisma and carried himself as every bit of the CEO he was. It was hard to deny his charm and you felt yourself nod before you could really process the gravity of your situation.

You hadn’t realized the anxious pressure in your chest relieve itself when your brain finally grasped the fact that you wouldn’t be at risk with seeing that side of Simeon again this time. This was a new partner, a new experience, a new touch, a good touch. You could do this.

There was still the hurdle of getting over being intimate with a man you had only seen in headlines. You expected that to be a rather difficult hindrance to the authenticity of the scene Simeon wanted to write. After all, it was supposed to be a soft and loving scene, nothing like what you had last gone through. Managing that with a stranger seemed to be a rather tall task.

Lucifer didn’t seem bothered by what he needed to do at all. Having been filled in with the gist of the situation, it was easy to slip just a hint of charm magic into his words to coax you out of your shell. He smiled, taking off the casual blazer he had on to reveal a perfectly fitted dress shirt hugged his frame in all the right places. Well, he doesn’t spare any expenses when it comes to looking good, no matter what the circumstances. Duly noted…

“Come here.” He beckoned, tilting his head and calling you over with just that motion.

Your body moved on its own, drawn to his aura, entranced by his name and his looks as well as his natural allure. When you locked eyes with him, it was as if Simeon wasn’t even in the room with you two anymore. The world faded away and you felt a warmth spread across your chest where the anxiety once was. He effortlessly made you feel safe somehow and you found yourself sitting in his lap without being asked to. He placed his arms loosely around you and the air between the two of you was absolutely electric.

You only noticed Simeon again when he walked over and adjusted his friend’s arms. He mumbled to himself as if possessed. He was present in the moment, but his mind was clearly elsewhere, writing his book while he posed the two of you in the ideal scenario. You could hear him come up with dialog on the fly, guiding Lucifer’s hands to your lower back to cradle you gently in his lap. With a little more direction Simeon had Lucifer rest his head at the crook of your neck. “I need you two to pretend to like each other… Please...”

You could feel Lucifer smirk against your skin, his lips just brushing against your pulse point when he spoke. “Oh, I won’t need to pretend to like her.”

You suppressed a shiver. Lucifer’s breath was so warm and his cologne was so cloying it made you feel rather lightheaded. There was an element of unspoken shame between the three of you. Allowing a stranger into what you had already established with Simeon felt so wrong. To do this with an old friend of his no less, there was distinct sense of sin about it the scene that felt rather right given the circumstances that lead up to it.

It was a blessing that Lucifer was so naturally handsome and mesmerizing. You were sure if it had been anyone else, it wouldn’t have been so easy to feel at home in his lap. His long fingers playing at the hem of your blouse while he pressed soft kisses at your neck. If you remembered the sequence of events of the book correctly, the main character had just been saved by her ‘husband’ who happened to be an assassin given the same target at she had been. You needed to put yourself in the protagonist’s mind, pretend that the man in front of you was as precious as a spouse and as marvelous as a savior.

Lucifer fell into his role seamlessly, kissing your skin as if he had almost lost his most treasured possession. His embrace tightened just enough to draw you closer to him. It was easy to tilt your head to give him more access to your neck. The way his lips played across your skin was so tender and soft, you sighed in satisfaction just from his kisses. Instinctively, your hands went to his shoulders, pulling him towards you, encouraging him to keep going further.

You could hear Simeon typing on the other side of the room; the usually distracting sound of the keyboard was negligible compared to the sound of Lucifer’s breathing so close to you. His teeth nipped the shell of your ear and you shied away out of habit. He chuckled softly, licking your skin and humming in approval at your reactions.

You weren’t sure how someone so suave was allowed to exist. He was barely doing anything and you were absolute putty in his hands within an hour of meeting him. He had been completely correct, there was no need to pretend you liked one another. The innate attraction was there, all you needed to do was react to his lead. “Lucifer...” you breathed, testing how it felt to have his name fall from your lips.

The verdict? It felt right.

Lucifer glanced over to where Simeon sat, catching the heated glare that was fixed on him. He couldn’t help but beam in self-satisfaction, knowing that the angel very much wished to be the one in the scene and not him. He turned his attention back to you, eliciting more breathy moans out of you. He said he was going to help with the scene; he never said anything about being mindful of relationship between you and Simeon.

“I like those noises you make. Make some more.” He demanded, slipping his hand under your blouse to finally get a handful of your skin. His touch left a trail of fire across your nerves. It felt like it had been years since you were last this close to anyone; it only made you more receptive of anything he did to you.

Lucifer was meticulous in his ministrations. He made sure to take his time exploring you with his hands and lips before moving onto the next step. It was almost torture how slow he was taking it. By the time he worked the first button off of your blouse, you were ready to rip his shirt off him.

“Kiss...” Simeon said from his seat. His voice curt and short as if he was directing a scene from a movie. “Kiss her before you do anything else.”

Lucifer was quick to comply. He had been hesitant in claiming your lips with his own, but with the approval of Simeon, he lost no time in taking your breath away. With one hand at the back of your head to keep you steady, his lips brushed against your own, seeking tentative permission before he went further. The warmth of his body enveloping you so gently made you melt and accept his kisses eagerly. His tongue traced your lips before delving into your mouth, tasting you for the time.

You moaned, breathing deeply through your nose as he overwhelmed all your senses with just his lips and tongue. While one hand held your head firmly in place for him, his free hand caressed your cheeks, your neck and your collarbone. While he swallowed all the pretty little noises that came from the back of your throat, he continued to work off the buttons of your blouse. Your clutched onto his shirt, unable to break the kiss even if you felt your head spin from lack of oxygen.

By the time all the buttons of your blouse had come undone, you were a breathless, whimpering wreck for him. He pulled away and admired just how swollen your lips had become from all the kisses. “Beautiful.” he praised, making your whole body heat up from the simple compliment. “Think you can help me out of these clothes? It’s gotten pretty warm in here.”

He didn’t have to ask you twice to help him. As much as you wanted to savor the moment and really draw out the intimacy between the two of you; you were also desperate to see what he looked like under that dress shirt. You licked your lips at every inch of skin you exposed, your eyes glittered with glee as you uncovered his chest and abs.

As soon as his shirt was completely open, he went back to exploring your body with his lips. His kisses trailed down your neck, to your chest and right to the outline of your bra. “Ah, silly undergarments… They always get in the way of fun.” In one swift motion, he slid his hands under your bra, freeing your breasts and also divesting you of your top along with it as it went over your head and arms. For a second, you felt distinctly vulnerable under his gaze and moved to cover yourself, but his hands kept your arms at your side.

You squirmed under his touch, your brain completely blank as he lavished you with attention. Lucifer noticed the freshly healed cuts on your skin and made sure to give them extra affection. He did it partially to stay in character, but mostly to spite Simeon who was definitely fixated on the scene he orchestrated. He was getting too much enjoyment out of pulling the most lewd sounds from you all the while the angel watched, unable to participate. The control he had over the both of you was absolutely exhilarating and turned him on more than the kisses and fondling.

Lucifer pushed you to lay on the couch, settling himself between your legs and hovering over you. The opened ends of his shirt tickling your sides briefly before he leaned in and took your nipple into his mouth. His tongue laved at the sensitive skin, coaxing it into a perky little bud before moving onto your other breast and doing the same. By the time he was done with that task, you were sure that the knee he had pressed up against your crotch could feel just how wet you had gotten.

Looking down between the two of you, you were grateful to see he wasn’t completely immune to the scenario. The impressive bulge in his pants at least proved to you he was enjoying this as much as you were. Pulling him into another searing hot kiss, you tugged at his hair, rolling your hips against him. You didn’t care that Simeon was watching, with Lucifer, you could get what he would never give you. “Fuck me.” you whispered, barely believing you were making such a demand.

“With pleasure.”

The rest of your clothes came off in record time. The need for a release was almost unbearable. Just seeing Lucifer’s cock spring out of his boxers made your mouth water. You were more than happy to spread your legs for him, giving him all the access in the world to seat himself in you.

But, it seemed he had a different idea for you. Turning you to face Simeon on the other side of the room, he pulled you up to your knees and slid into you from behind, groaning as your cunt greedily accepted every inch of him with no resistance. “Let’s give him something to write about.” he suggested right before making you see stars with his cock.

Being filled with an actual dick and not a toy was an experience you had missed so much. There was nothing better than the warmth and the feel of a real cock sliding in and out of you. Toys could only simulate so much, nothing could compare to what Lucifer was giving you. “Oh… fuck.” You gasped, leaning against his chest for support.

His hand grabbed your hair, pulling you flush against him as he rammed his whole length into you over and over again. His breathing hitching every time you squeezed around his cock. “Oh yeah, that’s a good girl.” he praised. “Look at how hot and bothered he is.” Lucifer brought your attention to the author across the room. His fingers frozen across the screen as his eyes were glued to the scene you were creating with his friend.

You didn’t want to look, but everything Lucifer said was a command you could not disobey. Glancing over, you were blessed with the image of Simeon, blankly staring at what you were doing. His expression completely unreadable, but his eyes were dark from just how blown out his irises were. His hands that were supposed to be on the keyboard stroked his clothed cock in time with every one of Lucifer’s strokes.

The feeling of shame washed over you as you saw just how pitiful Simeon seemed so distant from the two of you. His heated gaze was fixated on the spot where Lucifer and you were so intimately joined. Lucifer continued on railing into you, his hand wrapped around your waist and teased your clit, drawing you closer and closer to your climax. You couldn’t even think about the guilt you felt in your gut as Simeon was forced to observe you. All you could focus on was just how good Lucifer was with his cock and how close you were to coming undone.

“Think we should let him join us?” Lucifer’s voice was like the devil on your shoulder, voicing all the things you couldn’t say out of embarrassment. “He’s always been bad at saying what he wants.”

You didn’t have time to respond as all the pleasure came to a screeching halt. Just as you felt like you were going to cum, Lucifer pulled out of you, making you whine and whimper in need. “I… what… I...”

The smile he gave you was soft, but the emotion didn’t reach his eyes. There was a devious glint in them while he waited for you to compose yourself.

“What? Why did you stop? What happened?” Simeon busied himself with sitting up straight again, hunching over his computer as if he hadn’t just been stroking himself to what was in front of him.

“I got bored.” Lucifer stated plainly, getting up and leading you over to the author who was furiously typing away, trying to the capture the scene he just witnessed. “I thought you might like to join in the fun...”

“That… that wasn’t the agreement.”

“I’m bending the rules a little.” Lucifer shrugged and gently pushed you down on your knees in front of Simeon. You crawled under the folding table he set up as a makeshift desk. It was a snug fit, but not entirely too uncomfortable. “I’m sure we can all benefit from a little more fun, right?” He laced his hand into your hair and gently, but firmly pushed you towards Simeon’s bulge.

You didn’t even need any encouragement to start working on freeing Simeon’s cock from the confines of his pants. The man above you couldn’t protest, the need to feel you and the need for release overriding his scruples he had worked so hard to maintain. “I… You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to.” You said firmly, licking your lips when you got your hands around his length and pulled it out, giving it an experimental pump. With just that simple touch, Simeon hissed and rolled his hips up to meet your hand. “And it looks like you want to, as well.”

“Let’s see what that pretty mouth of yours can do.” Lucifer encouraged from behind you. “If you do a good job, I’ll make sure to finish what I started.”

You were more than eager to wrap your lips around the tip of Simeon’s cock, licking and swirling your tongue around the tip. Your hand pumping the length of his cock you couldn’t fit in your mouth just yet. Simeon’s moan encouraged you to keep going, taking more of him into you until he hit the back of your throat. Lucifer’s hand in your hair was soon replaced with Simeon’s as he held onto you, setting the pace as your head bobbed up and down his cock.

You moaned into his dick, sending vibrations down his length and making him shiver. His grip in your hair tightened and he pushed your head further down his cock, wanting you to take all of him. With a bit of an initial struggle to suppress your gag reflex, you relaxed enough to take every inch of him with just a little coaxing. Soon enough, your nose brushed against his coarse pubic hairs every time he made a full pass down your throat.

“Amazing...” Lucifer breathed, lining himself behind you to enter you again. Just watching Simeon fuck your mouth had heightened the sexual tension in the room into something palpable. He timed himself to enter you at the same time Simeon was at his deepest down your throat. “Time for your reward.”

Your screams of pleasure were muffled by Simeon’s cock being stuffed into your mouth. Lucifer taking your cunt again made you nearly lose consciousness for a second. Simeon’s grip in your hair became almost painful as the two of them worked in tandem to fuck you senseless.

It felt like there was an unsaid agreement the moment the two of them started to move. As soon as Lucifer pulled out of you until just the tip of his cock remained in your pussy, Simeon would be fully seated down your throat. The moment Simeon’s dick slid out of your mouth just enough to give you a chance to breathe, Lucifer would ram his whole length back into you, making you forget to take a full breath before the cycle continued once again.

It was a dizzying experience and the orgasm that had been abated for the time being built itself back up to be something explosive. The two of them played your body like a toy meant for their pleasure. All your holes were meant to please them; and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Lucifer’s fingers once again found your clit, bringing you right up to the edge within a few passes of his digits across the sensitive nub.

“Cum for me, beautiful...”

His voice was magical, pushing you right across the threshold into your climax. You moaned into Simeon’s cock, causing him to also unload his cum down your throat. Even if it was hard to breathe, the lack of oxygen only seemed to enhance the high you had been brought to. Lucifer only needed to thrust into you a few more times before his own pace stuttered and he came, releasing his hot seed into you and completing the euphoric feeling of climaxing.

Simeon was the first to regain his senses, carefully pulling out his spent cock from your mouth. Even if you did your best to swallow all of him, some of his cum mixed with your saliva and dribbled down the corner of your mouth to your chin. He carefully wiped away what he could with his thumb before pulling you in for a kiss.

“I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry… Please forgive me…” He begged in between kisses. He could taste himself on your lips, something he didn’t expect to enjoy as much as he did. With every kiss, the color returned to his world, the grays that permeated his every existence faded the more time he spent with you. Without you, he wasn’t himself anymore; that much he learned.

Ah. So this is what forgiveness feels like...

Lucifer pulled out of you once he softened enough to do so. He was about to say something rather snide, but he also didn’t want to ruin the moment of reconciliation between the two of you. So, he decided to save it for later. He waited patiently for you to reassure him everything was going to be all right before speaking up.

“So, you think you got the scene?”

“Yeah… I think we got it. Do you think we can make the deadline?”

You looked up at him, feeling satisfied and elated in a way you hadn’t felt in so long. “Do you trust me?”

“I do.”

#Obey me #Obey Me Simeon #Obey Me Lucifer #Simeon x reader #Lucifer x reader #Simeon x Lucifer x Reader #Obey me Smut #Obey me Fanfiction #My writing #i'm trash you're trash we're all trash #we're finally getting to the super fun bullshit!#Shall we date obey me

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aaluminiumas · 4 years ago

Text

Be the First

Kalifa vividly recalled her first days at CP9: to be accepted, she had to go through a huge number of entrance tests and to obtain a pile of various certificates to become a rookie among other elite combat troops under the notorious Rob Lucci. Oddly enough, her relation to one of the leading assassins of the organization didn’t play a significant part in the whole process: obviously, the World Government was aware of the fact, but she could be certain that her father never petitioned for her. Kalifa was appointed to the post of undercover agent by means of her own strength, stamina, knowledge and skills.

She worked with Lucci from the very beginning. Despite a small difference in age, he seemed significantly older and more mature comparing to nearly anyone she was acquainted with. Although the woman knew what she would be dealing with and what her duties would include, the man nonetheless caused a slight spark of repulsion in her, he gave her an unpleasant impression. Appearance-wise, Lucci did not look like an assassin at all but something about his manners seemed so vaguely intimidating that Kalifa had to admit – this man breathed danger. He was peril incarnate.

She learned about her father’s occupation late enough to be able to compare the two: while Laskey managed to hide his real attitude, Lucci barely disguised his bloodthirst. Unbearably handsome, atrocious and completely aloof, the man stared at people with clear disdain as if the only thing he saw was, in fact, a stink fish that didn’t even deserve his attention. In addition, his movements, swift and economic, immediately exposed his perfect body-control. He already knew the victim’s weak spots – and would hit there without a heads-up – he wasn’t particularly coy not to harness the skill.

That was the first time Kalifa faced his unbiased attitude. Normally, she was surrounded by a group of persistent suitors attempting to touch her or to make a superfluously eloquent compliment – in all honesty, even the indifferent carpenters of Water 7 let themselves whistle in her wake, but Lucci, unlike many others, barely paid any heed to her: even a vase in the headquarters got a bigger scrape of it. His calm grey eyes hardly passed across her – he absolutely did not care whether he was training a confident woman or a garishly painted kabuki actor.

Evidently, for that reason exclusively she recollected her first training. She had already been considered as an equal to those men, and she did not beg for mercy, no matter how hard it was to prepare herself for the future trials. In all honesty, Lucci made no endeavor to offer it to her; while all the erstwhile supervisors before him spilled ribald comments over the woman, this one kept counting the attendees, undisturbed. To tell the truth, the woman was curious: the scuttlebutt fueled by witnesses mentioning a peculiar amalgamation of beauty, devious mind and excessive brutality outmatching the vilest pirates didn’t scare her off but confirmed the statement that this man was unique. He appeared to control even those who didn’t serve under his command – at any rate, Lucci needed a glance to shut a talker up. There’s little wonder how he got his place in the sun – he had become one of the few whose authority remained unscathed even after the destruction of Enies Lobby.

“I will not detain anyone,” Lucci’s cold, quiet voice came. “One whimper, and rest assured… we will never meet again.”

His opening address before the training turned out extremely terse and laconic – and did contain an obscure threat. Kalifa became the first who dared step forward for a sparring round. Kaku, Kumadori, Jabra, Blueno and Fukuro preferred to stay clear and watch: albeit they got an opaque understanding of what was prepared for them, they found solace in being last.

It was the first time when Lucci beat her up.

Kalifa failed to dodge, and despite her outstanding kami-e and soru skills, she hadn’t managed to show the level Lucci would consider satisfactory. Tired of the boring and stultifying pursuit, he effortlessly broke through her tekkai and kept mauling her after his initial powerful blow. Impassive and unaffected, he kept lambasting and clawing her fiercely, not a single emotion contorted the fine features of his visage. Seeing her staggering, he used his shigan against her – and the woman, bleeding enormously, fell on the ground.

However, she did not emit a single sound.

Out of the corner of her eyes she noticed Kaku growing paler. He wasn’t exactly spineless, but he for sure came short of stamina comparing to her… What’s happened, actually? Looks like no one managed to demonstrate sufficient knowledge of such techniques as kami-e and soru, let alone tekkai: they barely maintained it for a second, and it turned out useless as Lucci breached the invisible shield easily with the attack Kalifa calmly repelled. Though, she wasn’t quite positive of it, to be honest: the last memory faded away as she focused on standing up to walk to her room.

Late at night, the woman clenched her teeth trying to tear off the bloodied rags of her clothes – they stuck to the gashes, and stripped off with the skin. Kalifa had to clean out the grazes she could reach, but as the ugly marks covered almost her entire back which was in tatters after the rampant onslaught – it was nearly impossible to swathe every wound. Moreover, the slightest touch caused searing pain in every cell of her body, and she couldn’t move wondering whether she was about to faint or could stay conscious. In fact, she did have the right to go to the hospital juxtaposed between the headquarters and the training site in order to get professional help, but it was obvious what consequences it could entail. Every assassin worked in “field” conditions, and Lucci, maybe unaware, was preparing them for the upcoming trials and impediments. Only a few succeeded, but those who were attested, became the best and later morphed into a legend within the confines of the organization.

Next morning, she stepped forward again. The man eyed her from head to toe with the similar concealed disdain and contempt she had noticed previously – and lambasted her in the same fashion though did not use his shigan for his own reasons: he either thought her to be unworthy of it, or failed to see an equal adversary in her as she knelt after several stabs. Albeit she surrendered shortly, her tekkai seemed to improve and got thicker – though moving much slower, Kalifa managed to resist for a while longer.

“There’s no point in your staying here if you cannot evade a blow.”

The gossip she’d heard were not untrue, Lucci turned out a real monster… As a human being, as a man, as a leader – but to her surprise, his brutality never baffled her: it failed to arouse any emotion inside of her as silent humiliation and battering became a part of the routine. Day by day taciturn insults reduced, Kalifa sensed that she was gradually approaching the ideal she had conjured in her head but the imperturbable pale face remained aloof as ever. In Lucci’s eyes she still remained a pathetic loser, even though she had made a long way to establish herself as one of the few female agents of CP9.

The man had eliminated almost all emotions except for perverse delight at the sight of the power he wielded: spoiled by his own abilities and skills, the intimidating Rob Lucci relished the consternation he inculcated in others, and when he saw her naked back painted in crimson red stripes, he simply grinned under his breath. His fingers lingered across the scarcely healed wounds and pressed on the freshest cut while indifferently muttering that she got off cheaply. He could’ve killed her during that training by aiming an inch higher.

He offered her a chance to be the best.

He improved her skills and knowledge through lambasting her so brutally and ingeniously as he did to no one. She learnt to avoid the most devious attacks; she escaped and hid behind him; she grew stronger: she was no longer Laskey the assassin’s daughter – she got her own name, she was the Kalifa everybody feared.

What about the cost?.. Thanks to an ointment, all the scars got healed pretty well. Actually, no one else needed it just as much: Jabra wiped blood off under his nose and spitted off chunks directly into the sink; Kumadori howled as the most lugubrious and woeful yurei complaining that “his hair were pulled with too much force”… Kaku may be the only to catch his breath after trainings, and Kalifa once took notice of his trembling fingers hovering over a fresh bite on his shoulder. But she was much better. She stood out.

She couldn’t be compared to Rob Lucci but at least she impelled him to respect her – if he ever respected anyone. After the humiliating defeat of CP9 he intended to do her in, just as any top-notch undercover agent would do, but wasn’t it the very same desire she used to read in those lackluster grey eyes all along? Wasn’t it exactly the thought that crossed his mind – didn’t he want to reciprocate in response to his personal setbacks and those of his own department?.. He definitely had a reason to track her down, and he assigned Kaku to be his lapdog in accordance with his ulterior motives. Rob Lucci always had plans – she comprehended it immediately.

The woman approached the mirror and stared into the reflection of the violet eyes. They darkened around the pupil but eventually grew lighter dispersing in the miscellaneous, minuscule streaks. The woman took her red lipstick and slightly tapped it on the lips.

Kalifa was no longer afraid. She had become the best.

And she will keep going.

#one piece #kalifa #lucci #rob lucci #kumadori #jabra #kaku #kaku one piece #kalifa one piece #lucci one piece #cp9 #one piece cp9 #fanfiction #fanfic

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thelordstears · 3 years ago

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Writing totally isn’t a passion of mine *Wink, wink*

"Fools, always think they're the smartest one in the room, as is the same with saints, it would seem." - Moores Thomas

"The crow must have a very watchful eye; for even his flock is called a murder." - Valkronin Sambridge

"Sometimes what others do to obtain peace leaves you in pieces." - Bentley Harlem

"He is the enemy screams my ragged bone mind; again and again the shouts of my father echo in the night of my darkness, and again and again I let the lie envelop like blood in my chest." - Alastair Sambridge

"This wicked heart doth not beat lovely." - Valkronin Sambridge

"We're pawns in a game that doesn't fucking care; the King and Queen have left the brooks and knights bleeding on the edge of the board. All that's left of us is the way we move across a checkered board, wondering why black, white and red is the only color we can see through these loyalty blinded eyes." - Flitz Haktoll

"We're all lookin' for glory at the end of a faded bullet; grins echoing in the decaying lights of justice and heroism." - Benjamin Scotsfire

"Glory is not found in the pursuit of death. It's often found in the pursuit of something greater." - Henry Onlark

”Lies fall slick from the tongue of the foolish.” - Cross Smykens

"I left the war; but it never left me." - Jay Foster

"Ya know; a man once told me to turn my rage inta power. Let it be the kick of my bloodied rifle, but as I turned that rage to power, as I let that bloodied rifle bruise my shoulder; I learned that power's name was corruption all along." - Maximus Bates

"When everything is ripped decadent from your veins you find a substitute for that abyss in your heart; and I've filled it with cracks of who I'm not." - Terminus Hydra

"People like us don't get third chances. We just get ta live the rest of our lives in this flat circle, we're doomed ta try and run on these hand me down shoes; but we'll just get right back where we started. Standin' stagnant in our cruelty." - Scottenmire Travol

"You haunt many a folk 'round here and you don't even know the names of the graves carved into the stone of your heart; everyone's nameless too ya. But everyone's got a name and a couple thousand stories to tell, what merry little tale do you think I plan on orchestrating tonight?" - Monte Pelamo

"I thought I was raising a rifle to fate; but then I bled as my finger curled around the trigger." - Alastair Sambridge

"Glory and death often go hand in hand; interlocking bloodstained fingers within one another's as to best watch humanity flitter and fade away into dust and ashes. Have you ever noticed how cruel people get when life fucks 'em over? How evil seeps through the good man's heart all because he had a bad fucking day? I'm the seed of evil planted into the good man's ribcage, blossoming like a black rose of thorns and shadow in the heart of kindness." - Diablo Bohnsello

"I already walked that path brother. I already have a coffin fitted for a man that ain't me; it's why I'm so fucking dangerous." - Hectorvallo Bloodwain

"If you can't fucking get something out of doing what's right, than what's the point of being the good guy?" - Trent Aval

"Oi'm just a stumblin' deer, wonderin' where these breadcrumbs will lead me." - McKady Cornwall

"Some men call me a mad man. But I imagine you'll call me a monster, or karma, in some wicked sense. Who I am is usually defined differently for every man I come across. They all have their own little tale. Some weep as they read the poetry scribed like scars in their heart, some rejoice in the wicked man's tale. But you, little one shall die, in some strange and peculiar way. Not in the sense that I'll bury you, but in the sense that I'll wipe your slate clean and scribe little pieces of my darkness onto your blackened pages." - Westell Gramstein

"Crazy and misunderstood is a very thin line many walk." - Westell Gramstein

"I was stuck in a shadow like trance, dancing with the light of my very own moon. It was under the decadent and decaying lights of that pale light cast from the sky that I was stricken by a very sudden madness. A very quiet, madness." - Shackelstan Puppeteer

"Any man can become a shadow wisped secret of himself. How do ya think the darkest of creatures are made, brother? They start off as good people doin' good things. But sumthin' comes along the line and rips them from their shadow, leavin' them defenseless against the dark." - Valterren

"In all madness, my friend, there is what created it. Dare you tread in the black waters of my mind?" - Westell Gramstein

"When it's your life or mine I tend to get a little selfish, a little cowardly. And these days, the bullet is my only saving grace." - Kyro Bellford

"I stand stagnant in a pool of others blood, wishing it was my own." - Alwine Hickory

"I looked for who I am in all the wrong places. Like the way a boys hurt tasted on my heart, or the way a cigarette burnt my tongue. It's as if I never really found me. As if I never will. Because in all honesty, I feel as though I was never someone that could truthfully be called Inazo Lizomann." - Inazo Liomann

"I'm licking fate off of the barrel of temptation's revolver, my heart splintered and weary. Once you get a taste of the things that damn you, like the way cruelty tastes on your tongue, you begin to fall away from yourself. I swore up and down I'd survive. But I didn't. I never had." - Huntsdale Klizollo

"Unity with control is like putting a cat in water. You think it won't resist, you'll think that peace can be found within the feral animal you've dropped into the waters of unified revolution. But eventually, claws start to fly and the once unified civilization becomes nothing but the ashes it once started as." - Hex Sweeney

"I'm cursing you with the thought of life in the midst of the death of those you called friend." - Sevelsworth Hickory

"They always say, oh go ahead, open up. Let those scars bleed so you can reach the light everyone's always preaching about. And then you let your emotions come running from your lip like a river, and they put a dam in your mind and tell ya no one gives a fuck about the kid of trouble and bone. So you pick up a few bad habits, you throw another fist against a kid in your same situation and make due with what ya've fucking got. As if the dam built in your mind keeps all but the rage in." - Flizo Thompson

"I'm old bones buried beneath the rubble of identity. Don't matter how much I struggle, how much I try to survive. Because I'm already dead, and at this point, bein' a walking grave don't sound so appealing. So I burn up my lungs and pray I drift away with the smoke." - Ramo Bonewitz

"No one cares about you Ramo, you're already a ghost. All I have to do is give that little extra push into the unknown." - Quentin Satchel

"You won't make it out of this alive. You'll try. You'll walk mile after mile. But you're just a tombstone with legs." - Quentin Satchel

"My thirst for blood started young. The first day I saw the driblets of crimson drop to the tile floor was when a kid brought a razor blade to school and drew blood against his bully. An act of defense. And gradually my thirst for this kind of behavior grew. It started with rooster fights, watching the little fuckers claw at each other with those sharp nailed talons of theirs. But that gets boring quick. So I moved onto dogs. And that evolved into watching wolves fight in my father's barnyard. But eventually you get sick and tired of fur and fangs, so you settle for something more dangerous. Something more rewarding. My father taught me the game of gladiatorial fighting. Civil. Just. Merciful. And as I watched that man cut his brother down in the blink of an eye, oh I knew I could never go back. And I never would. I became a master of the arena, sitting on my throne of gladiator and gladiatrix's corpses." - Sevelsworth Hickory

"The blood of my father's victims sits on my hands, as if it was me pullin' the trigger. As if all along, I were pullin' the strings. Sometimes, when all ya can do is watch tragedy unravel, you get this funny lil idea that it's all your fault." - Alwine Hickory

"I was raised on the Devil's backbone of sin, standin' like the snarl of a rifle. Don't you come ta wonder what makes monsters like me? Brother, life has always been what makes monsters outta human men." - Cavowit Hickory

"We're all just thieves and bastards lickin' up the pieces 'a fate we got left. So why you gon' go damnin' me for preventin' the crooked bitch from comin' for me sooner? Son, I'm just doin' what it takes ta survive this Devil's country." - Stalkman Hickory

"I got a tattoo runnin' below my eye that tells the truth, as if the grim reaper has put her eternal mark on me." - Henio Bonstook

"You'll become a reflection, of sorts. You won't exactly, look like me. You won't exactly, look like my gunmetal stained past. But it'll be there, lurking in the corners of the mirror. Waitin'. Watchin'. Readyin' itself to pounce on the little gunslinger who thought he could, and that my friend. Is the day you'll die." - Ulfrich Diggory

"It's not about, who you are in the now. It's about who you're gonna be after I start carving little pieces of you off with the edge of my gunslinger malice." - Ulfrich Diggory

"Truthfully, I killed someone for that woman. I carved little pieces from off my heart, begging her to love them, but she was a Devil wrapped in gossamer, silk and roses, telling me that our little secret was nothing more then a flickering streetlight, providing little protection to the darkness of the night. And I suppose, my streetlight flickered out, leaving me with nothing but the sparks of a cigarette and the warmth of a revolver." - Grant Filepen

"Where once faith swung like curtains behind my ribcage, now it feels more like a couple of nooses, whispering my fate into the winds of my feeble, decaying sense of self." - Amaziah Bokenmay

"To the circus you shall go, to lose your mind and find a darker soul." - Moores Thomas

"Truthfully we're all heroes in some capacity. But some cast that away, they tear it screaming from their heart, our heroism often begs when faced with greedy fingers, but the cruel don't care. And to all the heroes who invited the kindness in, I hope it didn't take too many pieces away from you, to let the fact that cruelty exists despite the bravery in you break you." - Kirsten Hezofrein

"The cruel call peace a revolution just so they have an excuse to kill the protestors." - Sebastian Dovens

"The blood ran black from my wrist, dripping down like candle wax damnation." - Joey Alderson

"Skinny and starvin' I died, sittin' on the edge of my frozen over revolver. I shivered, I shook. And mate, I didn't make it ta the end of the tunnel, I was caught by the traffic of beasts, but 'ow peculiar is it, that they stared at me with eyes I recognized? As if pe'raps, friends can become enemies within the span of a god damn blink." - Arv Harknizia

"Darkness has to blot out the sun for light to shine later on." - Gustave X. Van Velk

"Those in power are often the weakest man kind's got to offer." - Garth Yeager

"I saw life flash before my eyes in the banging of a rifle, sins sitting cruel on a masked man's sleeve. It was in that moment of death that I cut humanity from out my heart, becoming something unfamiliar. But these cackles of insanity start to feel beautiful." - Tahasha Moonlight

"Life keeps forcing me down, these shadows start to whisper into my mind that the light is just outta reach. And those damned shadows rip at the threads of the sun's golden rays, ripping into the warmth of Summer forevermore. I'm telling you man, you think Summer memories will always be goofing off under the hot sun, playing videogames with your best friend as your mom brings you cookies and lemonade. But all I can hear now is the gunfire melody of the hunt, sickening cackles ringing in my ears like poppers goin' off to damn early." - Scottie Bloodvallo

"Death is something we can not avoid. It catches all souls who live, it lingers in the cold mountains and in the hot springs, hiding in the shadows and the light. Wherever we go it is hiding, always hiding. But I find it so, innately cruel that sometimes, death catches up to men and women who still have miles to walk. People who from then on out have to walk mile by begrudged mile in death's wicked boots." - Caesar Cagelstan

"Men like me, men of the mountains and cold harsh winds of Antarctica don't really fuckin' live. Sure, we breathe. But as an old friend said there's such an ugly difference in that, cause as I puff another hazed, stale old cigarette, smoke drifting towards the Heavens, I come ta realize these angels wear smoke wings and ember halos, praying that this warmth is enough ta melt the ice in their hearts." - Daryl Fate

"People think that because they've walked comfortable miles, they know what it means, to truly be alive. But breathing and living are a very thin line many cling too, as if it was the lit fuse of a pact of dynamite, praying that it doesn't cover them in shrapnel truths and war bound horrors. I no longer live. I breathe. And there is such an ugly difference in that." - Mankar Hagmallio

"You don't know this city like I do kid. There's sharks swimmin' in the waters of these secrets, boy, and you're starting to smell a helluva lot like blood." - Roman Ustolgio

"I'm a Diablo, friend, and you're here for a handshake." - Abundio Garciel

"They called me a fucking misfit, as if who I am wasn't enough for society. And so as I washed myself in the blood of my innocence, draped in the crimson shawl of my identity, I came to realize no one, and I mean no one at fucking all, can add up to the expectations of a civilization ruled under the boot of the Heavens. And so we call ourselves angels, as if that made us holy in any sense of the fucking word." - Nicolla Bravajin

“ These skyscrapers stand like dead goliaths of faith and virtue, reminding us that New York city is where identities go to die and justice comes to wither and writhe underneath the heat of another darkened day. “ - Bartley Exodus

“ There comes a time when every man must choose who he wishes to be. He can walk the road seldom traveled or walk amongst the villains, slipping a mask of fangs over his face as to hide the bravery flickering in them golden eyes of his.” - Bartley Exodus

“ I pick up my old, rusted revolver and carve a couple dead men's names into the bullets and shove 'em into this chamber. Did I say dead men? Sorry. I've got a tendency to talk future tense." - Bartley Exodus

“ There's a locked room in my head where all the thoughts used to go.” - Bardem Lazolla

“ You know, all my life I've had to be tough, had to be just a bit stronger than the last guy; but I'm tired of the act. This mask is beginning to slip and I fear who I'll be once it falls. I've been someone else for so long that I don't know who I'll be once I'm me. “ - Bardem Lazolla

“ Isn't it strange how some people choose to be stuck in a nightmare while everyone else is living the dream? They can say we're all crazy, nutcases who belong in the looney bin. But in the end I'd rather be crazy than normal. I'd rather be me than someone I never was.” - Axelo Hayware

“ We've gotta be accepting, because humanity is built on love; but some people think power and hate is what gets you a name remembered. Yeah sure, names like Adolf Hitler and Julius Caesar are prevalent in the history books; but who do you look up to? Martin Luther King Jr or the fool who let power get to his head?” - Axelo Hayware

“ Humanity isn't doomed, we're just a little stuck is all." - Axelo Hayware

“ You know how when you're just a kid you dream of one day changing the world? Well look at you! Look! You did it; I promise. We're all changing the world daily with our actions, wondering if we ever meant a damn thing in the end; and I'll admit, I stumbled a few times. This path had a couple of roots along the way that felt like a noose wrapping around my dreams, forcing me to sputter and choke on nightmares.” - Tom Hanson

“ I refuse to let the gunshot melody become my song. “ - Tom Hanson

“ Look, there's a time and place to be a hero. And that's everywhere and all across the clock.” - Spencer Vokeswagon

“ I'm just the civilian who watched in wonder as the sky burned with glory bound promises, smelling the way they broke in the air.” - Spencer Vokeswagon

“ I'm falling inch by inch; wondering why the fall is such a slow descent, it has taken years for me to reach the atmosphere, and I have been burning ever since I first touched a broken star with human fingers that never should've found those old secrets dusted in the corner of a shelf in her son's bedroom.” - Valentine Valks

“ I shall never discover for I fear taking a step forward.” - Valentine Valks

“ Was that taut leather in his eyes or love?” - Valentine Valks

“ He is cruel and unjust, claiming himself an angel as he rips the wings from other's backs if only to stitch them onto his own. Is it such a sin to give life to the devil whom would steal it? I didn't know, I plead to the Heavens. But in my skull I hear the booming voice of God fracturing my pieces, and he tells me, "It matters not. He is your blood; and so you shall bleed in his place." And like a fool I accept my punishment as Jesus once did. I am bleeding on a crucifix of my son's sins, crown of thorns wrapped around my head as all the color bleeds from me. Black and white blend to a warped sense of grey; and all I know becomes fogged and misty. “ - Valentine Valks

“ I was raised a warrior, fighting battles of mind and blade, because in a world where evil lurks in every corner; everyone needs to be a hero or have the capability to be one. “ - Kadlin Paulson

“ The true warrior fights for what she loves and what she knows to be true.” - Kadlin Paulson

“ I'm an old tree trunk covered in the scars of the hatchet; and I know they dare not remember my name. For if the hatchet were to remember the name of every tree it cut its handle would begin to rot. Because to cut and cut and cut; the hatchet must have slain a couple of once sturdy trees. But I will stand sturdy forevermore. “ - Kadlin Paulson

“ I was young when I learned to keep a watchful eye on all that one loves; for everything has a darkness waiting inside of them, prowling in the depths of all saint's bones, waiting to pounce on the weary hearted followers of God. Dare not let this darkness prevent you from stepping into the light; for this is how the shadows in your ribcage win, how the demons start cackling with a strength they didn't once possess. “ - Nial Moorannan

“ My hands are stained with the blood of every man I've ever been.” - Nial Moorannan

“ I have watched the sun set one too many times; aiming the scope of this fox hound's rifle a thousand and three times, always me in my sights. Always me I watch go down in a howling scream of blood lit confessions and regret cackling at the midnight sky ever burning.” - Nial Moorannan

“A serpent followed us into our perfect little garden of Eden and stood watchful at our forbidden trees; eyes beady and forever burning with an emptiness that was never quite human. And he stripped the roses from Heaven; he tore the angels from a once clear sky and cackled as fire erupted through the clouds. And so all the angels of Eden fell; forever fell. On that day I died a death like no other, dreaming of beauty as I fell from Heaven, grasping the burning clouds wondering why death tasted like a memory on its way." - Nial Moorannan

“ There's a black serpent slitherin' in me ribcage; darin' me ta take a step forward in this dance with me shadow, and I dance, and I dance, and I bloody dance. A pirouette in the soddin' dark of me own bloody moon. “ - Arnold Schull

“ First time I died was when I were covered in da blood of boys sent howlin' ta an early grave, dagger drippin' crimson wif' regret. Second time I died was when I shook da hand of a masked devil, anarchy and violence howlin' just behind me. And mate; I've died many more times. “ - Arnold Schull

“ I've neva' seen 'is face. But those eyes dance wif' somethin' sinister. “ - Arnold Schull

“ Sometimes we hit the clouds before we make it to Heaven.” - Armellos Crescendo

“ Feather by feather who you are will be restored. “ - Armellos Crescendo

“ Rejoice, my friend; the sun of humanity has yet to sink. “ - Armellos Crescendo

“ I got fight left in my old bones and people to protect with all I got, so I roll up my sleeves and stick a cigarette between my teeth, letting the smoke be a warning of the fire that roars inside of me. “ - Armellos Crescendo

“ My father once told me that we have a choice when faced with the edge of a bullet; we either run from it or let it dig into our hearts. We're either the shield or the one that's behind it. And my mother once said that the world is a sorrowed plain of darkness; we're just the stars living in the blanket of shadow. And these words echo in my mind as I try to push back against the life I've been living, the sorrow ached life I've been given. “ - Ariel

"There's a storm in me heart. It rumbles and cackles with lightning and thunder; red rain pouring down on me cracked and broken ribcage, and as I try ta rest I feel the storm brew like death in this weary little fool. “ - Annabelle Courtney

“ I didn't pull the trigger, but I din'it stop anyone from lettin' the bullet soar neither. “ - Annabelle Courtney

“ I was a good woman once. But ever since I met that woman underneath the streetlights, I knew that I was a goner; she wore her nails red as blood, leather jacket draped over her shoulders as she snarled at the sky and all who made her the way she is. And as I fell through the ever lit skies of her rage I became something much less than who I am. She once dug sharp nails into my cheeks and snarled at me to paint the walls the color of my namesake, and with mournful regret I watched the white walls become a ruby red. “ - Ruby Vollstale

“ She's just a wild dog that doesn't know how to calm herself down.” - Ruby Vollstale

“ I once told myself that the fall is a long way down; but as I started to trip, the fall felt like only a few begrudged seconds. “ - Ruby Vollstale

“ Before one can fall head first into death he must go through the echo of life.” - Zecheriah Holyton

“ We are dropping like flies swatted by the electric swatter; dying as flashes of light in the nebula abyss of earth.” - Zecheriah Holyton

“ I was born curious, my friend. So I dug into the truths of philosophy and secrets, tearing my measly little claws into the greatest poets man kind ever knew trying to find the purpose of a life so obsolete. And I discovered that in truth; life is what we make it. But it also happens to be heavily influenced by our surroundings. “ - Zecheriah Holyton

“ I look into the stars of Heaven and often wonder if it's angels or graves in the sky or if that perhaps the sun is a culmination of all the burning wings set ablaze to give humanity warmth on event the harshest of winters. “ - Zecheriah Holyton

“ We are dualities of what we've done; wondering if what we didn't do condemns us in the end. “ - Zecheriah Holyton

“ Humanity is a vessel; of what I can never tell. All I know is that we're Babushka dolls." - Zecheriah Holyton

“ It's funny, how people will look at the unwell man with such fucking disgust; they say, "Look at the battered whore of a man! Sipping on the delusion that he is something other then his madness!" But don't they understand I'm trying to stuff myself so full of placebos that this fucked up thing I've become finally passes me by? “ - Arthur Wellburn

“ These emotions whir around my mind like cannons and gunfire, always hitting me down to rock bottom. But then I soar! Oh how I fucking soar. But I'm always falling within a month; laughing at the thought of splatting bloodied against rock bottom once again. “ - Arthur Wellburn

“ They always say you're strong for fighting the mental illness, but if they could see my heart they'd recoil and ask me to be put in a mental ward for all the thoughts that swim like death in this black watered river of my fucked up mind. “ - Arthur Wellburn

“ I'm just a nobody looking at the world through the eyes of Arthur Wellburn, wondering why I can never see a reflection of my mania. I'm stuck in this little corner nowadays, as if I'm just this little monster in a cage of his mind; and I'm always thinking the cure to my disease is a revolver shoved in my mouth and a wildly loud BANG! BANG! BANG! It'd be so much easier to die than to live, you know? So much easier to let the weight of my burdens fall onto my families shoulder like a ghost that lingers on the other side of death. But I never do it, I never do! And I get to wondering, "Why?" Because as life guns me down; I cackle in the red rain." - Arthur Wellburn

“ Look, I was just a kid hiding his truths behind dorky smiles and girls I didn't even have a crush on. But my brother, my sister, they were always gonna accept me as I am; there were never strings attached to our bonds; never scissors waiting to slice. “ - Tony Ikelfur

“ I am nothing more then a messiah of the broken and condemned; come one come all, safety is found in the comforting embrace of the shadow mistress. “ - Antonio Sharp

“ I walk within the light if only to watch it fade; striding beneath the sun if only to watch it sink one last time. “ - Antonio Sharp

“ I was born under the shadows of pinewood trees and howling wolves.” - Antonio Sharp

“ As the world comes to a grueling close who do you think will walk into paradise? The holy; or the heretics of life? Who do you think will be praised by the oh so holy creator of darkness but they who embraced it? We are beasts and bastards in these shadows my brother; so become one with the edging blade of destiny. Let it cut pieces of your identity from off your skin, let it call to you with the silver shadow of a soon to be crimson soaked dagger. We are children of the shadows; messiahs of the night. Dare the hero walk into the night with his rifle and bravery he will be shown as an example as to why the darkness is superior. “ - Antonio Sharp

“ I'm cheap smoke rising from the New York sky.” - Ambrose Walsh

“ Ever since the day I dug a grave I ain't been who I am. The lantern shed a pale yellow light across my face, cigarette stuck between my gritted teeth as I huffed and puffed, shovel working hard as the soil dug up beneath me. The moon was cast sorrowful on this broken man's soul, the reflection of a wolf dancing in the stream right by the old cemetery that knows too many forgotten names. You really don't wanna meet who I became that cold, Sundeh night. Because not even I can face the bastard in the reflection. “ - Ambrose Walsh

“ You can't trust the dogs who kept on a diggin' despite the way the soil reeked of death.” - Ambrose Walsh

“ You know how you try and be who you are after tragedy? You cling to the memory of the smile in your mirror and convince yourself that you're still that person? Because I tried real damn hard to be that person after the fire. But I know that boy is gone; buried underneath the secrets he found in a town he thought knew peace. “ - Alex Devonwood

“ I hate to break it to ya, but angels don't fucking exist. We're all just people living our sorrowful little lives selling ourselves to the dream that it gets better one day. But it doesn't, it really doesn't. I've been trying to find that happily ever after for a long time, but the man that haunts my memory? He sits in the recesses of darkness like a leather draped beast always waiting to drag the hopeful into his devious maw. Truth is life wasn't made to be lived. Life's only purpose is to serve us to death on a silver platter and I don't wanna stand for that. I wanna live but know it's impossible. “ - Alex Devonwood

“ I tried to tell my story; but no one roots for the underdog who never bit back, the dog who never barked his truths to the sky. People prefer tales of perseverance over the tale of the boy who never won. It gives them false hope, that they can be like the boy who won. But the boy who lost eats their dust." - Alex Devonwood

“ I used to be full of this joy that you couldn't really kill; but that man, he tore it from me. Sorrow leeched at the edges of his eyes; a dogs bark snarling somewhere in his throat, and he told me that we all live our lives confined in a locked room. And that the wrong person had found my key. And into my locked room he walked, ripping my heart from out the walls, digging into the wallpaper to discover the secrets I hid like confessions in my chest. And it was on that day that I was left as barebones of who I was. “ - Alec Bonehoff

“ I was just a fucking kid, man, I shouldn't have had to bare the weight of my brother's unguilted conscience. “ - Desmondo Dreadful

“ Sometimes ve chase our dreams. Sometimes zey chase us. “ - Luka Schiefer

“ People are always gonna hate even though it don't get no one anywhere, so when faced with this rage, when faced with this hatred ever seething. Take a few deep breaths and remember emotions often lie; and given the chance they'll shoot ya down with pellets of doubt and fear.” - Gary Heartlock

“ I was just a kid enjoying the company of himself, always told he just weren't a good influence. “ - Gary Heartlock

“ When you let the armor of lies shed from off your skin you start to grow a tougher skin of truth; don't you know that's why Icarus laughed as he fell? “ - Gary Heartlock

“ Be so authentically you that the hateful use you as an example of what's wrong with humanity; be so yourself that you set the bricks for the next man's path. “ - Gary Heartlock

“ You know how it is, right? You try and do the right thing but get caught up in all the bad of this world, wishing you had just stayed the fuck put.” - Dominiqua Claytor

“ Somedays I look back at the bridges I burned; memory of my eyes watering stinging my mind, the idea that I once smelled the smoke killing me from the inside. But I learn my lesson and move on. “ - Dominiqua Claytor

“ My brother and I are just two cold cases no one cares to look into; because who the hell cares about the death of identity? Who cares about the cigarette that never sparked up? “ - Adella Furrow

“ With my tattered boots and old leather jacket I walked into the unknown, and from whence I never returned. “ - Abel Romiro

“ Everyone stared me down, blaming me for the way fate unraveled, and I started to wonder if that town was home or just another house of too many damn walls. “ - Abel Romiro

“ That town was just too filled with devils for a single angel to do a damn thing.” - Abel Romiro

“ I've been both Cain and Abel truthfully; both Judas and the apostles who followed faithfully. But in the end I betrayed my own namesake, blood of a brother staining my once pure hands; and on that day I killed the hero inside of me. On that day the vultures flocked around my heart; pecking at what was soon to be dead. “ - Abel Romiro

“ That man locked me in a cage of the mind and told me to flay these pieces of identity from off my skin layer by layer. I bled for hours on the meat hook. A starving and skinny crow I became; yearning for a day where death didn't seem like a dream. And I found it in the hearts of my shield sisters. “ - Aadab Zivell

“ They say good fortune comes to he who raises a pistol in the name of peace; but often the man who slings bullets and sins ain't the man who finds the stairway to Heaven. “ - Aristead Solace

“ I've spent my life huntin' the cruel, finding them in different states and dead end alleyways. But still that one case sends shivers like death up my spine. Think of a lion; blood covered maw snarling inside of a cage it called the world, now take this lion and put him in a field full of gazelle. What will you get but a slaughter? That's what that man was to the world. Just a lion in a field of waiting gazelle. “ - Aristead Solace

“ Sometimes the heroes, they think their villains because ya gotta break a few commandments to stop the sinnin' man, and we call ourselves regretful devils. But we're just human, huh? And that's what made all the difference." - Aristead Solace

"Humanity. Kind one moment. Cruel the next. “ - Varkens Willowbrook

“ I have come to learn that there is an evil plaguing this world, it's wrapped in barbed wire and gunfire violence, the rage within sitting heavy in the open chest. And it goes by the wicked name of humanity. But simply because humanity is wicked does not mean that all of humanity is wicked. You'll find the kind ones somewhere waiting for you; but you are sure to find the wicked man often in a world that operates on kill or be killed. “ - Varkens Willowbrook

“ I believe that this world is kind despite the bad apples in the barrel; though those few bad apples started to rot the rest of the seeds within; the water roaring with the infection that came with the sin. Unfortunately just one bad apple effects the whole barrel. So one bad man effects the whole population. “ - Varkens Willowbrook

“ Somedays, the wolf; he wins. He trots around my ribcage victorious as can be, but that's when he gets cocky, when he begins to get careless. So the half-winged angels in me swoop down like a reaper's scythe and banishes the wolf to the locked door in my mind; where all the horrors go to starve. “ - Salvatore Graham

“ Ever since my father first laid a fist against my mother's cheek justice breathed through me as if I were a vessel in which it could see. And I told justice that I would dare not go blind. “ - Salvatore Graham

“ I pick up this blade; knowing one day I must turn it on thyself. “ - Salvatore Graham

“ Oh you know me; just a child of the old night sky, singing the blues as sorrow passes me by with a mournful sort of smile, knowing I'll come back around to her place in a day or two. “ - Franco Jonwitz

“ I'm just cigarette smoke chasing trouble.” - Franco Jonwitz

“ I take this old hat from off my head and read the poems that've been scribed in my ribcage, sadness following the words and prose I speak to the empty night sky. I've been a boy of sorrow ever since ma and pa became graves, moving along to an old orphanage with the scent of sadness wafting from off my papa's old, white suit jacket, hands and tears hiding somewhere in the fabric of that coat. I hold pieces of him inside of my heart, pieces of my mother hidden inside of my smile; and I guess there's sumthin' beautiful about that, huh? “ - Franco Jonwitz

“ I must confess, I've named a few of the stars after the ghosts that follow me, praying that they can fly up to the sky and find Heaven. But here they remain in my mind; reminding me that with sorrow comes trouble, and with Franco Jonwitz comes the inevitable idea that death kills before ya die." - Franco Jonwitz

“ War rains heavy over the weary soldiers who didn't make it past the gunfire; the ones who survived selling themselves to this ideology that their sins were for some greater good. But trouble etches its way into the bones of all whom pulled a trigger in the name of glory, sin or their own self gain. “ - Terminus Hydra

“ I lost everything, my friend, so a sin I became. “ - Terminus Hydra

“ Random acts of violence are often the ones that drive a man halfway to insanity, and the acts of violence he chooses to commit are the ones that drive him the full mile. “ - Terminus Hydra

“ I am a bad man. Dare not let my past tell you otherwise. If the people I knew where to speak of who I was they'd say he was a loving man who didn't let his tragedy define him; but speak to my enemies and they'll spit my name like venom on their breath. Two men tell two very different stories. My father would say I am a man of honor, but an old friend would call me the serpent to his corrupted and decaying garden of Eden." - Terminus Hydra

“ These scars on my legs tell the tale of a girl who lost herself too early; and it seems I can't hide my history from peering and bloodshot eyes. “ - Mayell Da Ville

“ My son tells me that one day, when I realize that who I am is beautiful despite the scars I'll find the wings had always been in my mind rather then on my back. But these scars, these horrific scars; they prevent the wings from growing ever again. “ - Mayell Da Ville

“ Here lies Mayell Da Ville; the ghost who found life too late. “ - Mayell Da Ville

“ There's a wolf on my shoulder; snarlin' at the frontlines and tellin' me ta stain my rifle in the blood of the innocent, and with a grin dancin' with moonlight I head inta the shadows and play myself a little game of huntsman and the lion. “ - Dekiah Doorvenstail

“ My father raised me ta be a killer. You should expect nothing but the bang of my rifle. “ - Dekiah Doorvenstail

“ Once you get blood on your hands it begins ta grow like a garden in your chest. But there's sumthin' different about this haunted little flowerbed. You begin ta realize that your ribcage was once Eden, but slowly, as the blood trickled down your fingers, Adam and Eve started fleein', the angel of flamin' blade nothing more then your heart that slowly faded ta black and grey. And as the serpent slithers onta your shoulder, you begin ta realize temptation lives in the hearts of all man kind. And only a special few accept their primal urges ta become nuthin' but a slaughterhouse on a cold Sunday afternoon. “ - Dekiah Doorvenstail

“ We were never wolves, my friend. But fragile people with hearts that can break and minds that can scar easy, but dare not turn to the shadows for comfort. They hold a dagger in one hand; and they hide it in the crevices of their darkness.” - Sabu Thorn

“ I think that if one is to find peace within themselves, they must first find peace within their scars. “ - Sabu Thorn

“ Eons ago I lost my mind.” - God

“ They say that dead men tell no tales; so who will whisper the tale of humanity once I'm done with it? “ - God

“ Everyone's always saying God's not dead. He's with us he's with us! But as I come down from my heavenly throne; the blood of humanity staining my shawl of lies and secrets; you'll pray that I am. But all your prayers have fallen on listening ears friend; and yet they never come to fruition, do they? “ - God

“ In the face of evil; silence is compliance.” - Gustave X. Van Velk

“ They don't tell you that the fall is so easy. They don't tell ya that we're all one crooked grin away from violence; so I take a steady step forward and throw a fist or two towards the evil that sits violent in this town of unwelcome shadows. “ - Gustave X. Van Velk

“ I've always tried to understand the enemy; walk a mile or two in their shoes, but Milos' boots are just too damn heavy and stuck in the muck of his powerful identity. “ - Gustave X. Van Velk

“ My sanity peels away in whispers and shadows.” - Cartniza Harvester

“ The word safe is such a fucking lie; no one ever is. “ - Cartniza Harvester

“ I don't know why this heart beats like a slowly rotting flower.” - Mackton Stoneshire

“ They say this Queen of madness is a revolver's shadow standing above peace; and she is. Because as she walks down these halls my bones shiver with shadows and things you could never dream of. Because she's a nightmare in the head of the weary; grinning deviously before she sins another deadly sin. And as my eyes shift to the checkered floors of this old mental ward; I know she can sense my fear. “ - Mackton Stoneshire

“ I'm still stuck under these shadows that fog my mind; heart roaring empty in the ribcage of a coffin. “ - Rupen Schello

“ I can still remember the night flames erupted inside my home; they now flash like colored lights in my memory, my parents' smiles becoming nothing but a shadow I can no longer follow. “ - Rupen Schello

“ A man with a memory can never be free of his torment.” - Rupen Schello

“ Every choice I ever made led to the death of who I am.” - Mervin Gavinwood

“ I never meant to fall; but I was born with the belief that I had wings, and so I leapt from blinding heights expecting to soar. “ - Mervin Gavinwood

“ The day I killed a man is the day I died. As his skull cracked against the bar stool; groaning and dying in the most grotesque way who I am started bleeding from the corners of my eyes as those two devils beside me laughed and laughed and laughed. “ - Mervin Gavinwood

“ He sits in the edges of my memory like a crow just waiting for his murder to come on along.” - Mervin Gavinwood

“ I've just been trying to cope with this loss of who I am for a long time; clinging to memories of him like a blanket that keeps me warm. But there's holes in this wool blanket; letting the cold settle into my bones. “ - Carol Corin

“ I weep for a life never lived; a death already fated. “ - Hexi Moorenfowl

“ Every detective has got her case, right? The one that drives her halfway to insanity because things just aren't adding up. I tried so hard to find those girls, I tried so hard to find that man's wife. But in the end it was a cold case that never went warm. “ - Maryland Fainrick

“ Mysteries often end in tragedy.” - Maryland Fainrick

“ I woke up in a foreign bed wondering why a stranger looked at me in the mirror; that was when I died an unfamiliar death. Falling from the heights of a Heaven I never deserved. “ - Kiddy Wendellburn

“ I choked on who I am a long time ago. And I don't think I can ever swallow my truths; because they taste so fucking vile. “ - Kiddy Wendellburn

“ "When you realize who you are, it's your job to become that person. “ - Adrella Soderit

“ We're all dreamers trying to find our happily ever after despite the nightmares that find us in the light; but don't you think it's the way we react to this darkness that defines who we are? “ - Adrella Soderit

“ So do me a favor and accept yourself won'tcha? Even when everyone around you condemns who you are. Even if you gotta keep that acceptance a secret in a little jar until one day, you can let those torch bugs fly into the open air." - Adrella Soderit

“ I don't know what one would call him. But he feasts on the sacrilege of identity and flesh, sinking his teeth into innocence as if it were a divine, juicy, blood dripping steak. I'm just the remnants of the girl I used to be, and as I remember his parched tongue against my skin a shive runs cold down my spine and my fighting instincts kick in. As if my mind is a clock forever running backwards. Minutes and hours mixed into a relived past. “ - Marlia Ferotosia

“ I remember his smile. Filled with teeth and unkempt flesh. “ - Marlia Ferotosia

“ I listened to her sorrows. Her troubles. Her secrets and confessions. But she was torn from this world much too early. And that is a sin a man like me can never forgive. “ - Zack Mordell

“ The old soul is supposed to fade before the young one. But fate is a very cruel mistress; dancing with those who don't know the rules to the deadly tango. “ - Zack Mordell

“ I'm a fading symphony wondering when my last notes will play out into the wind, but I keep singing. “ - Zack Mordell

“ Healing will come after the scars stop bleeding, so a little word of advice, don't stab those dagger like thoughts into your skin. “ - Cordemlia Munstwain

“ Some people say they aren't themselves, and I get that; sometimes it's difficult to admit that we're changing. Difficult to admit growth feels uncomfortable in the hurting mind. But eventually you'll grow into this new you. You'll find that it's often like a scab. It only forms to protect ya from the infection a wound leaves. “ - Cordemlia Munstwain

“ Some people say love at first sight don'it exist. And, I don't fink' it were love at first sight. But love at first spoken word. Love developed inside da poetry we spoke underneath da dyin' lights of the street. He's a broken man, but I built 'im new pieces and told 'im ta shimmer and shine like a star in the night sky; and it feels as though when I put a lovin' finger on 'is cheek dat he's started ta feel more human. As if 'e's no longer a whiskey stained ghost. “ - Daubellia O’Snair

“ Fate twists in some awfully strange ways, huh? You could be a normal, everyday girl, fighting hardly noticeable battles and then in the blink of an eye tragedy rips through the air like a bullet in your fucking teeth. “ - Alexia Hathorn

“ Sometimes you gotta make a choice. Live or die. And sometimes you'll do both.” - Alexia Hathorn

“ We're the scar ridden angels of Heaven, soaring on wings stitched with different pieces; like a quilt of many colors. We're not heroes, just people who got caught in the crossfire of a world roaring with evil. “ - Alexia Hathorn

“ Often people in pain's mind is fogged up from the hurt, and so they don't really know what they're doing, ya know? “ - Hispania Hopva

“ Death I've learned, stalks the living. “ - Hannisada Gravewit

“ You can't really cure addiction. It walks beside he or she who used. Like a ghost that doesn't know when or how to move on. Is it really that much to ask for a halfway decent mind? One that doesn't taunt me with the idea of one more fucking high? But I suppose it was my choice to accept that little baggie at a party, right? It was my idea to get addicted, right? That's what they always tell ya. They call the junkies and ghosts monsters of society, but damn it man, we've been victims all along. “ - Hannisada Gravewit

“ I tried to hide my scars under thick coats and heavy blankets, but I bled and soaked through those. So now here I stand. Naked and awfully vulnerable to my demons and ghosts." - Hannisada Gravewit

“ His insanity ripped me from my backbone when I was only a child. I can still remember the violence shattered between his knuckles, the anger on his cigarette snarl. I still remember the screams. The God awful screams. I've been trying to dream for a long time man, but these nightmares always plague the boy who never lived. The boy who never had the chance, to live. “ - Jonathan Enders

“ I just, I don't know how to escape these nightmares, man. Because that man's cruelty echoes in my mind; his smoke whispered anger booming through my thoughts. I was just a kid, man. But he stole that option from me when he put a bloodied finger to my lip and whispered that he was never here. Or when that old, boney skeleton beside him clasped two hands around my shoulder and whispered in a low, harsh voice that they were the boogeymen. And I believe that. Because the boogeyman is what goes bump in the night, right? And if there's anything that could be considered monster, I'd give the definition to them.” - Jonathan Enders

“ I take a fragile breath, hoping it doesn't rip through my throat like a bullet. “ - Jonathan Enders

“ I fought myself for such a long time only to realize the reflection had always been a friend. “ - Baila Von Cascia

“ Ya know how fate works, right? Ya meet one or two people and your whole world unravels. Sure. They're good people. You learn that they've become family somewhere along the road. But the villains you met alongside them just isn't worth it. “ - Joshua Houstella

“ I have fallen down this rabbit hole of oneself, gripping the roots of madness.” - Ingretta Shazowlla

“ I am nothing short of a sin. Nothing short of a monster masquerading as a woman. “ - Ingretta Shazowlla

“ This heart of mine has whispered in sin and death ever since my mother told me all of her secrets, the closet looking like a welcoming home where Narnia and all the lions would protect me. But fantasy has never been as cruel, and unpredictable as reality. For reality hides until the right moment. Waiting. Forever waiting. And one day it snatches you so unaware and drags you through the nightmares. Oh you may kick. You may scream. But you'll most certainly succumb. “ - Ingretta Shazowlla

“ Forever my friend, can last only a second as the white rabbit once said. And forever, has lasted too long for my angel." - Ingretta Shazowlla

“ I speak my truths in barely audible whispers, screaming my lies at glass shattered levels. “ - Molly Chain

“ My lonely little mind is slathered in grey and blue paint, memories glossed over with thick layers of dark color. I've tried to peal away that wallpaper. But there's endless layers in this house, and I just don't know how much strength I've got left. “ - Molly Chain

“ There's blisters on my strength, and I fear I'm about to slip. “ - Molly Chain

“ All my life I've been afraid. Of myself. Of my father. Of the shadows that hid like monsters in my closet. And as I come to the realization that I will never escape my mind, I know that this is who I am. And she's such a broken girl. A wisped shadow of something great. “ - Clarice Sanchez

“ I honestly believe God started typing me up, but he left to work on something greater and left me an unfinished piece of poetry, as if my prose bleed into the way fate unravels and twists. “ - Clarice Sanchez

“ My peace of mind bleeds from the holes in my heart. “ - Clarice Sanchez

“ From what I know cruelty is the last guillotine, and we're just whittlin' down the rope, wonderin' when it'll snap and fall down on humanities head. “ - Leone Kassophic

“ God's voice is echoed through violence.” - Leone Kassophic

“ If my sins were tangible, would I bleed upon contact? “ - Darkin Vagabond

“ Truthfully I am not me. Just a graveyard symphony ringing like the funeral bell, revolver held in one hand, regrets held feebly in the other.” - Darkin Vagabond

“ I look to the star painted sky and wonder what prayers he's been answering, which whispers screamed the loudest. “ - Zelene Clifforde

“ I am a lover at heart, wishing poetry and words spoken could heal the damage of war. And truthfully, that is the only way to stop a war. You speak to the enemy with a certain understanding. You try to discover who they are past the violence shattered between their bruised and bloodstained knuckles." - Zelene Clifforde

“ I am a gentle soul at heart, but alas, I sharpen my claws and go to war like a sinner who doesn't know when to quit, like an old, tattered wolf who wishes to quit all the bloodshed. “ - Yngvir Alvisson

“ Often I wonder if this heart should just quit feeling. Quit letting the blood stain it like a memory that shalt not be forgotten. But I pick up my heart, and I shove it fragile and broken back inside my ribcage. For to become a beast, my friend, is the loneliest achievement of all. “ - Yngvir Alvisson

“ Way I see it. Hate is a revolver. These men and women fill their chamber with all the good pieces of themselves, firing off for a cause that never mattered, something that shouldn't even exist. “ - Jaspello Crosshair

“ In every sense of the word I'm the hero I needed when I was a kid. “ - Jaspello Crosshair

“ Take life one step at a time, second by second, minute by minute. Eventually the storm will pass you by. Sometimes it feels as though you're not gonna make it, but that's the kind of thing tragedy whispers, it tells you lies in an attempt to weaken your resolve. “ - Chris Shaw

“ Debby and I treat life like a workout. We breathe in. We breathe out. We face it head on and don't let the idea of pain stop us. “ - Chris Shaw

“ I was just a farm girl lookin' for a happily ever after, but that wicked and damned man stole the light from me layer by layer. It's as if he carved pieces 'a me off 'a my skin, whisper by whisper, sin by unnatural sin. “ - Ellen Duster

“ There's so many pieces 'a me missin' nowadays. “ - Ellen Duster

“ Redemption is a sunset, and it jus' don' ever rise." - Ellen Duster

“ I tried to build a paper boat and drift away from my prison cell, but the storm started howling in my mind and I fell off the side, clutching the paper rafts and oars, wondering why this is how life drowned me. Some men drown in whiskey. Others drown in sorrow. But all I ever drowned in was the tragedy of being someone I'm not. “ - Isaac Abernathy

“ If a lie fits the powerful man's agenda, he'll do anything he can to make that lie a truth, or at least make it appear as such. “ - Jacob Abernathy

“ I can still remember how that man told me that we'd save the world together, that as the bombs started going off, we'd be the men history looked at and said, "Well done, heroes, you did it." But as I watched the world fall asunder, my heroes heart fading into a broken one, I knew that all the man did was lie to my good nature, and it was on that day, unaware, I bit into the sacrilege of false revolution. “ - Jacob Abernathy

“ I was just a girl without shadows in her mind until I stumbled into a rabbit hole of Godhood and the way blood spills on the arena floor. And as I fell, little pieces of me being carved off by the blade of a malicious God, I knew that I must have more of this undying pleasure. “ - Sonata Vickowinter

“ I'm just a broken bottle angel who forgot his wings on the downward descent.” - Ash Caesar

“ Often I say I'm better off dead, because this man I am is hardly worth a damn, let alone two cents and a nickel, so I glug down another bottle of whiskey and let my little sister down one more fucking time. “ - Ash Caesar

“ I always say I'll change, but everyone else is running a marathon, and here I am, standing stagnant at the starting line. I dare not cross that line in the sand. Because I'm scared of the regret, the shadows, the way my mother's words echo in the ones I scream. “ - Ash Caesar

“ Truth is, I can still remember the way my mother's open palm felt against my cheek, or how her wine glass felt shattered against my noggin. But those glass pieces of her addiction bleed into me. “ - Ash Caesar

“ All I see in the mirror is a man who fell so cruelly away from himself, and as my sister reached for my hand, I let it slip. And all she could do was watch as this regretful Icarus laughed in the flames." - Ash Caesar

“ I have found, that I am the single black rose in the garden, sitting idle like a warning of what will come if you step towards this black petaled beast, this decaying flower of cruelty. “ - Madam Stephanie Rose

“ I am a tired beast. “ - Madam Stephanie Rose

“ I was once in an empty room. Love knocked, oh how she knocked gently, so softly. As if it were a song that whispered into my ear. But hate drove her away. He knocked, he knocked, oh how rage filled his fist boomed against the door. With tears rolling down my cheeks I let him in. He stole the blankets from off the bed and wrapped them around my throat, choking me with the violence inside of my heart. And ever so cruelly, I became a black, withered, and deadly rose." - Madam Stephanie Rose

“ I sink ever familiar into this garden of decay, praying that someone will save me from the blood on my hands I speak of like darkened poetry. But death, was never a story. Only a harsh sin ridden reality I've given to so many others. How strange is it, that death is the end of reality, but also one in of itself? “ - Mike Duster

“ I'm a man of many sins. “ - Mike Duster

“ I slowly flay myself from my own skin, screaming, forever screaming. I carve another layer of me from off my skin. I subject myself to the meat hook and try so desperately to bleed all the darkness from the crevices of me, but alas, to bleed myself from the darkness would be to bleed all of me away. For all that runs through me is dark, twisted and unfamiliar. “ - Mike Duster

“ The truth, does not whisper, my friend. It screams.” - Ava Callenwillow

“ Secrets stick to me, and more often than not they take over my identity, pulling me into the depths of another shadow, another mystery with my name written all over it. I've been running from fate for a long time, finding ways to avoid this noose around my neck for years, but one day the stable ground beneath me will collapse. And I'll be nothing but history. “ - Ava Callenwillow

“ Wherever I go, death tends to follow like a loyal wolf whom sits at my bedside, howling to the blood red moon that is my wicked and decaying heart. “ - Tezilda Vaxweed

#writer #author #characterwriting #dialogue #characterdevelopment

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captainkurosolaire · 4 years ago

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Reverie of Winning

“She has a name, you bastard!”

At no chance would that sufficiently hit Shiro who was calculated always and right now as he began returning to his evil ways, mental tormenting drew satisfaction. All forms had thresholds he felt compelling and screaming other demon’s floating inside him screaming the gap of their power was tremendously in his favor. The indifference's were believed absurdly countless to count. An aetherial icy hand began molding and attempting to seal in his block. More ice surrounded Shiro’s entire frame that often was always around him in a transparent bubble. He had a certain radius that kept him clean and secure from filth and pollution. A protective aura of sorts or defined as his safe-zone. The ice that spawned forth was rapid and not in any sense logically gathered as his corruption defied his normal limits. The Captain predicted a counter only under the many battles they contested his better instincts and judgments kicked in. He followed up in his motion high-kick while allowing them to remain linked to trace behind his spine and unstrap his revolver charged with high dense explosive hollow rounds. Taking a point of aim. Shiro laughed between the true portion of this fight began shaping full-on something associated with likeness of a Voidal presence alarming around the stage of this contest. Horns and demonic runes began burning his flesh and replacing his birthed markings. “Did I hit a nerve?” Before Kuro could hit the trigger Shiro ran his finger into the barrel jamming and stuffing it with a diamond icicle shard perfectly sculpted. Causing a clogged discharge and a catastrophic boom. At the same time releasing Kuro’s leg letting the forced impact entirely boom him ever comically over to the other side of the Ruins from a discharged recoil. He ate it up. Shiro manically became more unstable like a misperformance tune on a violin string. So this is what he sacrificed and sold his every remaining piece of humane for..? Good riddance. This power activated only in unmatched hatred and only festered parasitical growth. Captain’s entire frame clashed into a heap of old rubble as many additional falling slid onto his downed canvas in a burial pile. Shiro began a hymn step in casualty coolness while seeking to lecture and berate his cringe of a foe. “I uncovered recently in my travels all your memories of your loved one have stripped from you too, ironic, opposing my rightful claim in trying to get mine returned. However, I’d ask what you were doing coming here for this Treasured Relic was your intentions really any far from my own? Do you really believe yourself better than me, somehow, at all? That you could forgive yourself for letting that part of you freed. Yes… You threw all the other Stars to fall, those other so-called gems you go on about, everything and cast them aside for her sake, even abandoning the seas pledges in the pursuit of straying to whatever pact once that made you somewhat mildly amusing as a character. Though what makes your bond more important than mine? My sake is just as valued as yours! Losses of glory are always painful no matter so tell me your differences, fiend!” Long absence and pause happened on Captain’s side as he had to work much harder to catch his breathing from a hit like that. Suddenly softer pieces of rubble over-top began rolling down the pile. His hand breaking forth before shoveling himself into the landslide. Scratches, bruises, and blood already began dripping from him in disarray his eyebrow on his skin peeled back. His rigid lungs forced him to cough out the dust and debris.

As he slowly began to reclaim his posture. “Who said anything about mine is more important in comparison? I legitimately and full-hardheartedly messed up. It’s not my first-voyage or time, probably won’t be the last. I’ve been on the verge of being n’ the whole happily ever after sunset many times and I screwed them all up. There’s no blame outside my own. Look at me. I get n’ these types of injuries and situations all the time. This isn’t anything unusual, I’m a handful in every sense, sometimes, there’s more pain in that than the actual intended pleasure. Even to other Voidsents on my crew formerly, or mythical creature’s beyond mind, I can be an exhausting nightmare to even them. Ye think that’s healthy or stable or somehow certified sane? Doesn’t matter even if you’re eternal or everlasting or blessed by some creator that’s bound to taint and soil any waters. She cast me out and extended mercy on me and freed me even as I turned to the epitome of fright, a prediction she foresaw, even when I wanted to fog from reality.”

“T’ sow these rifts like this one I can’t make my departure soured without learning. No one deserves more happiness than what Ayla gave and should have gotten or any of the recognition I lacked in providing… I’ll always have a part of me that love’s her and owe every fortune I obtain here on and out as her claim too. But In order for that to transpire reassuringly all that I formerly had in the light and was known for my fame and all my signs of openly living must forever be the shadows ownership for now. Nightmares were meant to end when eyes are opened! So... WITH THAT BEING SAID. I’ll show you who I’m fighting for in this!” He took on a charge once again reinvigorated even knowing in every sense this was futile, outclassed and outmatched. Last time he came close to defeating Shiro first-time it took him preparing and actually expecting the battle. Using Grade 2 - Wyvern-Obsidian to carve through the Diamond Ice. He didn’t have that courtesy in this encounter. The pirate wasn’t selfishly throwing these in some self-made vault or intending to use any of the trophies acquired in usage. He wanted to secure and put them into a slumber further away from the worst in his sector corner. To let them be with either their people of origins or to reside with researchers in museums or artistic wonders if they didn’t forebode troublesome damnation. Regardless to Shiro’s belief the Captain had no plans or intentions to encounter his bettered-rival here in this map and next adventure and when he did stumble across and saw with his first sight. It broke a cord inside him with a sign of sympathy and regret. Shiro believes there was no such thing as a pirate of compassion. He was wrong alongside with that whole illusion of wishing-well when someone was in a compromised and fallen mood was a ruse. It was understandable coming from the upper echelon in society, people always swindled and played the same card to merely keep a connection or contact with status closely to them. There wasn’t an entire flaw in Shiro’s jaded thoughts though there was more depth he refused. Realms were led by statistics. It’s why categorization and separation hierarchies had to exist. There was realism and there was idealism. Those that weren’t taught the exact same ways as others those so-called privileged weren’t known by the same eld textbooks or hand-me-down spew from fossilized oaks. Those that had nothing but a scrap of their own knowledge and perception crafted their own past droid teachings. Eventually, there was one part of a group line that coherently believed in all formed free. Fears of free often were doubled-sided, naturally, as one part of the definition of free could simply just mean pure anarchy and chaos an excuse for lawlessness. While another believed that any and all forms of corrupt and foul could exist no matter the origins it was all individual influenced and decided. And shouldn’t be determined until active clarity was known but over time this became a worthless fight. It was easier just to knuckle up for these arguments and drive home their value. (Previous) — /References/ — ♫ ‘Black Holes’ — (Next Page)

#I don't care if it takes everything #So be it #Rivalry off the hinge #I'll melt #White Wolf #Black Lion #The Fated #Final Fantasy XIV #FFXIV #Shiro Elune #My First Cage #reader discretion advised #creative writing

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rosemaidenvixen · 4 years ago

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In the Fullness of Time

Chapter 1: Today

When a fight leads to unintentional magical consequences, Douxie has a painful secret exposed. Prompting him to share part of his past to his friends.

Or, the tale of how Merlin and Douxie first met.

Ao3

Halfway through watching Wizards for the first time, I came up with an idea for how Merlin and Douxie met. I liked it so much that it stuck with me even after I saw their canon meeting, so here we are. For the sake of this story Merlin didn't die, and they were able to defeat Bellroc and Skrael by locking them in the Darklands (and while I'm at it Draal is alive and is spending his honeymoon with Nomura wrestling alligators in the New Jersey sewers).

Shout out to @yellowmagicalgirl for giving me the kick in the pants to get this story off the ground and @archaeopter-ace for the title.

Douxie ducked to the side to avoid the fireblast “Jim, on your right!”

Jim nimbly doged another fireblast and used Excalibur to vault over a fallen tree, continuing pursuit of their quarry without missing a beat.

The Warlock swore and tried to turn and retreat. Only to come face to face with Toby, Steve, and Claire. The boys wielding their hammer and axe while shadows flickered at Claire’s fingertips.

“Going somewhere Buttsnack?”

The Warlock made a mad dash in the opposite direction, but was instantly blocked by Krel’s serrator.

They all closed the gap on the increasingly anxious looking Warlock. Douxie summoning his staff as they moved in “It’s over, there’s nowhere for you to run. Surrender and we’ll go easy on you,”

The Warlock narrowed his eyes and growled “I will not yield my power to that blasted coward Merlin. Not in this life, or the next,”

Douxie’s eyes widened as he realized what the Warlock was about to do.

“ Everyone get back! ”

He slammed the end of his staff on the ground, forming a shield around the Warlock just as he started to chant.

Less than a second later the Warlock was consumed in a ball of white fire, the shield around him swelling and straining as Douxie struggled to contain the blaze.

Thinking quickly, Claire summoned a portal on the ground inside Douxie’s shield, siphoning some of the white hot energy away.

Their combined efforts had an impressive effect but it wasn’t enough.

Douxie’s shield shattered, the Warlock erupted with a blinding flash of light and a concussive wave. Blasting them all into the trees like leaves in a gale.

Head swimming, Douxie blinked to clear his vision, slowly managing to detangle himself from the roots and shrubbery. It didn’t feel like he’d been injured too badly, but something felt...off. At first he thought he was just recovering from the blast, but upon standing he immediately knew something was seriously wrong. And when he raised a hand to pull a loose twig out of his hair, Douxie froze when he saw that his shirt was practically falling off his arm. A quick glance up and down revealed the rest of his clothes now fit in the same baggy manner.

But it wasn’t so much that his clothes had gone from small to extra large, more like Douxie himself had gone from nine hundred and nineteen to four or five.

“Oh fuzzbuckets,”

Even as he spoke he cringed at his higher, lisping voice. From around the clearing he saw everyone else groan and get to their feet. It soon became apparent that Douxie wasn’t alone in his predicament.

“Guys, guys! The Warlock dude made everything bigger!” a much smaller Steve wailed, trying and failing to lift his axe.

Rather than bother to try and move his now oversized hammer, Toby opted for the simpler option of shrinking it down and tucking it into his pocket “Actually I think we got smaller,”

Krel sat on the ground, blinking at his four stubby, childish limbs “Kleb,”

Douxie had never heard the Akiridion word before, but based on the context he could give a pretty good guess as to its meaning.

Once she finished helping Jim up, Claire turned towards Douxie “What happened, why are we all fun-sized now?”

“Our friend here,” Douxie gestured to the smoking crater in the ground, all that was left of the Warlock “Rather than get taken to Merlin and have their contraband magic stripped away, chose to unleash it all at once and try to take us all out,”

He picked up his staff from where it had fallen “We were able to dampen it, which is why we’re not ash right now, but I have no idea what they were juicing themselves with, or how to undo it,”

The blue stone in the head of his staff flickered as he tried to summon his magic, only to have it elude him. With a sigh he lowered it “And being tiny like this, I don’t have much power,”

“What! Are we stuck like this?! I can’t win Spring King again if I’m all shrimpy, they won’t even let me be a duke!”

“For once I agree with the oaf. I will not be small again, and I refuse to let Aja see me like this,”

“Calm down guys,” Douxie knitted his brows and tried to tuck his staff away, a normally easy task made monumentally difficult by his lack of size and power “We just need to get back to Merlin and he can help us figure this out,”

He allowed himself a small grin as the staff finally reduced back into his cuff, with no small amount of effort on his part, only to swear when the cuff nearly slipped off his arm. Douxie glanced at both wrists before sighing and slipped both the cuff and bracelets off, stuffing them into his pocket. Better to take them off now than to have them fall off later and get lost. But still he almost felt naked without them.

Jim tugged at Excalibur’s hilt with a frown “But what about our weapons? We can’t carry them back like this, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave them out here,”

“I’ll do it,” Claire’s sclera darkened as two small portals formed beneath Excalibur and Toothache, ferrying them away. Less than a second after the weapons vanished Claire’s eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed to the ground.

“That...that took a lot out of me,” she panted as Toby and Jim helped her to her feet.

Douxie hurried up to check on her. Much to his relief while she was sweating with exhaustion, her eyes were focused and clear and her nose wasn’t bleeding “Ok, no more magic. Our bodies just aren’t up to it right now,”

“Wait, does that mean we have to go back on foot?” Steve said incredulously.

“Unfortunately yes,”

“Aww man,”

“Double kleb,”

“C’mon guys,” Jim said while heading to the front of the group with Douxie “The sooner we start the sooner we get back, and the sooner we get back the sooner we get back to normal,”

With only minimal grumbling, the group set out through the woods. Jim and Douxie in the lead.

They stumbled their way home through the roots and undergrowth, struggling with shorter, weaker limbs. As they went, Douxie tried to come up with a likely explanation for their condition. It couldn’t be a de-aging spell, greater Wizards than that Warlock had tried and failed to obtain eternal youth. What if it was a spell intended to do something else entirely but had gone wrong? Maybe the Warlock had tried to cast a spell to strip them of all their abilities but it went haywire when--

“Hey Doux,” Claire spoke up, shattering his train of thought “What’s that, on your wrists?”

Douxie stopped in his tracks, hands unconsciously going to cover his wrists; his heart plummeting like a stone down into the bottom of his stomach.

How could he have been so careless? He didn’t have the bracelets or cuff to cover them any more, and he’d forgotten that they’d been a lot more noticeable at this age.

The rest of the group stopped to, perturbed by his reaction.

Krel squinted “Are those...scars?”

Douxie bit his lip, tightening the grip on his wrists.

Jim’s expression went from curious to soft “Hey it’s cool, you don’t have to tell us,”

“Yeah,” Steve piped up “If you say it’s none of our business, it’s none of our business,”

Claire’s face flushed “Sorry, forget I asked,”

Krel and Toby chimed in with similar reassurances.

Hearing them all try to comfort him, the subject of the marks on his wrists willing to be dropped as quickly as it was brought up; heavy, not unpleasant, emotion settled in Douxie’s chest.

These were his comrades, more than that his friends. They’d fought side by side and he trusted them with his life.

He could trust them with this to.

“No….it’s...it’s ok,” he pried his fingers away from his wrists, wincing as the marks underneath were exposed “It’s just….a hard story to tell,”

Empathy washed over Jim’s face “You don’t have to tell us if you--”

“It’s ok,” Douxie cut him off “I want to tell you,”

He took a deep breath as they all looked at him, expectantly but patiently.

“I got these,” Douxie started slowly “I got these when I was the age I appear to be now…..”

Notes: (Content warning for mentions of cannibalism)

For the magic system I'm setting up in this story there are functional differences between a Wizard and a Warlock. A Witch/Wizard is someone with innate magical abilities, whether they came naturally, like Douxie, or developed after contact with the magical world, like Claire. A person without magic of their own that still uses magical tools and objects would be referred to as an Alchemist.

Warlocks occupy a dark middle ground between the two. Warlocks are those that lack intrinsic magical abilities of their own, but consume or inject themselves with the essence of other magical creatures in order to gain their powers. These artificially gained magical abilities fade over time, so Warlocks constantly need to replenish themselves with outside magical sources. There are literally thousands of ways for a Warlock to accomplish this, but the most common method is by directly cannibalizing a Witch or Wizard. So while the words Warlock and Cannibal are not synonymous within magical communities, they share all of the same negative connotations.

The main point is that while being a Warlock doesn't make one inherently 'evil', the steps and ethical choices a person has to make to become a Warlock and to maintain that status informs a lot about their willingness to harm others for their own gain.

This won't come up in the rest of the story, I just wanted to elaborate on some of the worldbuilding.

#tales of arcadia #toawizards #douxie #hisirdoux casperan #jim lake jr #steve palchuk #toby domzalski #claire nuñez #krel tarron #rmvwrites #fanfic #in the fullness of time

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albertfinch · 1 year ago

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PRESSING ON TO MORE OF THE LORD

"And a woman who had a hemorrhage (KJV "an issue") for twelve years, and could not be healed by anyone, came up behind Him, and touched the fringe of His cloak; and immediately her hemorrhage stopped. And Jesus said, 'Who is the one who touched Me?' And while they were all denying it, Peter said, 'Master, the multitudes are crowding and pressing upon You.' But Jesus said, 'Someone did touch Me, for I was aware that power had gone out of Me.'

And when the woman saw that she had not escaped notice, she came trembling and fell down before Him, and declared in the presence of all the people the reason why she had touched Him, and how she had been immediately healed. And He said to her, 'Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.'" (Luke 8:43-48)

PRESSING INTO HIS HEM

Personal desperation and pursuit are demonstrated by “pressing into the Hem Of His Garment” (His Word). Revelation doesn't come from hands being laid on us or sitting under someone else's anointing. Revelation comes from pressing through into God ourselves.BY AFFIRMING AND MEDITATING ON His Word – making it real to our spirit. This is the fountainhead of the revelation you will be receiving to progress in moving forward in His purpose for your life leading to your destiny

"And wherever He entered villages, or cities, or countryside, they were laying the sick in the market places, and entreating Him that they might just TOUCH THE FRINGE OF HIS CLOAK; and as many as touched it were being cured." (Mark 6:56)

Many never fully complete the Christ calling God has for them, for they never come to understand their Christ identity and remain ineffective in bearing fruit that remains for God’s Kingdom.

We shut the door on all the distractions of this life, and anything else that would keep us from pressing into God.

Spiritual discontentment is the nature of a truly Holy Spirit-governed life. It will always be pressing on to something more of the Lord.

"Not that I have obtained, or am already made perfect...but one thing I do, forgetting the things which are behind... I press on toward the goal unto the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." - Philippians 3:12-14

RECEIVING FRESH VISION

We learn how to move and flow in the power and anointing by walking in the Spirit -- ascending to new levels with Him -- entering into a deeper level of PRESSING into Him.

God has further places for us to go, places unknown to us now, which are only found by taking the action step of carrying out His purpose for our life as we advance and bear fruit that remains for His Kingdom..

We "turn aside into the flame" of God's PRESENCE and receive fresh encouragement, fresh vision, fresh energy, and fresh oil. It is there that the issues of our hearts are healed, restored, resolved, and undone!

ALBERT FINCH MINISTRY

#jesus #calling #destiny #purpose #bible #devotional #daily word #revelation #inspiration #holy spirit

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gothicfury · 4 years ago

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Maouju de oyasumi

Sleepless Princess in the Demon Castle.

Episode 1 Sleepless Princess of the Castle 眠れぬ城の姫

Nemurenu Shiro no Hime

review and spoilers

Genres: Comedy, Fantasy, Magic, Shounen, Slice of Life, Supernatural

Disclaimer: There will be a lot of Lol.

Lol. Let's start with that, this has to be one of the funniest and cutest anime that I've seen for a while aside from Overlord.

It's a tale about Princess Aurora being abducted by a Demon and placed in a Demon Castle where it's incredibly boring so there is nothing to do but sleep, but she can't doze off because she finds many obstacles along the way, It is after all a Demon Castle.

So the focus of the story is the Princess's quests in trying to find a good night's rest.

When she first tries to snooze she finds out that she cannot doze off because of her cheap pillow, it then becomes a mission for her to find things to aid her in her sleep.

This is where the teddy demons come in to bring her food, she sees the knife and fork from the platter that they brought, and akin to a murder movie she menacingly races her knife, ready to stab these cute teddy demons.

The teddies get scared but luckily right beside them lay a cute little green hairbrush, ergo instead of opening them up for their stuffing, she just brushed off their teddy fur, which the teddy Demons thoroughly enjoys, and for this reason, they become her minions who give her the dungeon keys to escape when she needs to, in exchange of forever being groomed. lol.

Her next undertaking was to collect things to make the pillowcase, she starts running around the palace stealing things leaving the demons hilariously worried and confused, making them think that she had escaped.

At first, she steals a furry-looking hedgehog's hair which they call a Quilladillo, then she rips off the cloth from the curtains and uses them as a disguise, tricking a headless knight into giving her rare herbs from the treasure room, which she mysteriously pulls off. She laughs while leaving the knight farcically bewildered.

She goes back to her room with her obtained materials to construct what she desired. She made some soft yarn from the teddy's fur by spinning them by hand, then she sews the herb-dyed curtains with the hedgehog's hair as a needle to make a pillowcase then she filled it up with her fluffy stuffing. Alas! her Soft Princess Deluxe pillow is complete. A game-like frame jauntily appears saying her Quest is complete making us, viewers, proud and giggling at the same time.

She hugs it and immediately feels the difference, she starts to feel lethargic from all the running around that she made, and finally she is able to fall asleep.

Next, is The Demon King finds out that the Princess had escaped. He appeared frightening at first but he actually turns out to be a funny guy and decides to have a talk with the Princess about her actions.

But when The Demon king along with his minions tried to confront her they found her sleeping peacefully emanating the peace she feels with everyone so they ended up staring at her for a few seconds and felt as if it was just a tragedy to wake her up. The demons just suggested to just have a talk with her tomorrow instead, To which the King agreed by comically walking away.

They briefly show the Princess castle along with the residents and the hero worried for her contemplating if she is in a horrible state.

The scene ludicrously moves to the Princess waking up satisfied from her long power nap, but seconds later she finds out she has sheet marks on her face and marks on her forehead from wearing her crown since she wore it to prevent her bangs from moving.

Mortified, she now decides to make a headband from the pillow remnants but she needs tools to make something cute, emphasis on the cute.

Inadvertently a demon with scissor hands come in and she focuses on the scissors as if in a trance, paying no mind to whatever the demon is saying, coincidentally some of his scissors fell, she then proposed to exchange her crown with the scissors, to which the demon happily accepted Thus she was now able to make her soft cute crown headband, Alas! The Congratulatory Quest Complete Screen appears again. Hoorah! for the Princess!.

And now the Princess moves on to a new quest, by a stroke of luck, a Demon passed by with a soft shining cape. She then prepares her scissors for the pursuit to find Luxury Sheets. She calls her teddy demon minions by clanking the brush to her dungeon cells iron bars, with the dungeon keys at hand the small demon teddies fly to the Princess with their small demon bat wings blushing with excitement.

The castle rings of snipping scissors sound followed by screams, The Princess was hunting down cloaks. Everyone was in a panic haze.

Finally, she sees it, but she finds that it wasn't a cloak instead it was a silky ghost shroud that was alive and can talk.

This is the part where you cover your mouth because our Hime apathetically says, "But I have no need for the head and arm."

Then proceeds to cut off its head and arms, killing the ghost shroud much to his dismay. This scene will get you laughing so hard, as his friend screams his name in terror whilst he dies... "Ghost Shroud!" and to top it off she leaves the demon traumatized.

Another quest complete, she gets a Celebratory "Excellent work!", from the narrator. The Princess then Enjoys herself by diving into a sea of her sheets enjoying the silky wonderful aura of the cloth she had murdered until she falls quiet slumber.

The King angered, concludes to talk to her again, but just like the other night, they find her sound asleep again and they just didn't have the heart to wake her.

Meanwhile, The hero in the Princesses' kingdom went on an exploit to find her and talked about fighting demons near the wind fortress but it was to no avail.

The Princess was now having a hard time because there was an increase of snoring demons in consequence she still can't get some shut-eye even though she made a pillow and sheet. She summons her Teddy Bear demon minions again and is determined for a quest to find a new place to sleep in; The pursuit for a comfortable bed.

The Princess finds herself lost since the castle is huge, she now sits atop of chests for treasure loots in the noble armory. She tries her luck and opens one of the treasure chests in hopes that she can salvage things that she requires. Two items fall out of a box, a talking diamond that she accidentally trips on and a shield with tornado wind which she was supposed to tumble on yet subsequently the wind catches her. She figures out that the wind was cushioning her and is quite comfortable and cinches to take it but it's too big so she uses the talking diamond to violently bash into the shield so she can take out the important part, all while the diamond was screaming in pain and disagreement.

Meanwhile, the King has a conversation with one of the demons about the importance of the shield stating how rare and valuable that item is, all while our Hime ferociously clobbers it in the background.

She was able to take the orb where the wind came out but she passed by a lava room, and accidentally trips on a blob and falls on the pool of hot lava and dies, while demons watch frantically from afar.

She gains consciousness but without control, she found it calm and relaxing, and though she found a good place to relax, she later finds out that she was revived by a cleric, and what she was lying on was a crude casket and was mortified.

Later on because of her genius she resolves the casket was closed she would get the shut-eye that she desperately yearned for. She saw some of the parts were rigid and sorts out that it needs to be smoothened, which funnily she sees the cleric horns and looks at him mischievously.

The Princess then forcibly uses the cleric horns to sand the sides of the casket while he frenziedly argues. Realizing next that it needs to be shiny, she grabs the blob that she slipped on earlier and uses it to shine the casket. In the background, you can hear zombies and demons trying to stop her asking for mercy, begging her to not do that to the blob because the blob will, die, well because it's alive. lol.

But our Hime did not listen, instead, she finished fixing her casket and is in awe of her creation, she placed her magic sheets, soft pillow, lied down inside, covered the casket, and finally, she's able to attain a quiet stupor, triumphant she falls into dreamland.

To which the last commendatory Quest Complete appears, and the narrator says, "Achieved peach and quiet."

It ends with one of the cutest ending themes "Gimme!" by ORESAMA

And just leaves you feeling cute and happy,

In conclusion, this was a really funny anime, I highly suggest you watch it. It's reminiscent of Akazukin cha cha at least in my experience. I will tell you that it falls dangerously near the kid's genre because of how kawaii it is, but I doubt it because of all the violent murders our Princess has committed.

If I will rate it, I would have to say this is a seven out of ten bunnies.

Enjoy and Thank you,

Chotto Matte,

Mat

#Maoju de Oyasumi, #Sleepless Princess in the Demon Castle.

#Sleepless Princess in the Demon Castle.

#Nemurenu #Comedy, #Fantasy, #Magic, #Shounen, #Slice of Life, #Supernatural

#Anime Nemurenu Shiro no Hime

#Maoju de Oyasumi #Sleepless Princess in the Demon Castle.#Nemurenu #Comedy #Fantasy #Magic #Shounen #Slice of Life #Supernatural #Anime Nemurenu Shiro no Hime

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nonchalantdanger · 4 years ago

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Lost Souls Wandering

“I have a theory that all artists are lost souls wandering their way back to Paris” -- Atticus.

Heh, I think I’m clever. Arras is won by the French, and we spend a final night in Arras with our characters. This is where my and @theimpossiblescheme‘s AU canon’s diverge a bit, but PLEASE go read Yesterday, Tomorrow, and Today.

In which there is revelry, Roxane finds her way, and an unexpected ally appears:

To give credit where credit is due, the Gascony cadets do nothing by halves. They marched to war with grins, accepted death with a proud upward tilt of their chins, and now they celebrate their victory and toast their lost comrades with songs and wine and drunken dancing. De Guiche has already issued the news that they are to return to Paris in the morning, and the Spanish had retreated far enough that no fear of an ambush could worry them.

Roxane is enthralled by the raucous ongoings of the camp around her; she has been toasted as a goddess of war by nearly all of the men able to stand and walk over to her — and a few more besides — her hand kissed to tingling, and her cheeks near-cramped from smiling. Even so, none of the joy echoing around her can match the comparatively quiet delight that has brightened Cyrano’s adamantine blue eyes to the most saturated of azures. Like chips of lapis-lazuli set within his smile-creased face, Roxane finds herself admiring their gem-like glint from her place seated at his side. Occasionally, he catches her scrutiny, his grin widens, and it takes every willful bone in her body to refrain from leaning over to kiss him again.

Their fire is set a little away from the epicenter of merriment, a quieter refuge for the senior cadets — Cyrano and Le Bret — herself, and De Guiche. A singed hat marks the space in between she and the Comte, its bright peacock plumage marking it as the late Captain Castel-Jaloux’s; he would have joined their circle had he survived.

Roxane is surprised at De Guiche’s presence; by her observation, between his decision to remain with the Gascons during the Spanish assault and the valiant fighting he must have done in the battle, the Comte had discarded his haughty arrogance, replacing it with a small, warm smile and the resigned chagrin of a man who has earned — not purchased — genuine respect from those who do not give it lightly. Cyrano’s distaste for De Guiche has similarly bled into a cool detente since the end of the fighting. To Roxane it is fascinating to see the two, previously so at-odds, sitting with only the pleasant crackling of the fire between them.

Le Bret shifts in his seat, and Roxane hears the crack of his bones across the flames.

Cyrano chuckles. “You are getting old, my friend.”

“Hush.” Le Bret punches him none-too-lightly in his uninjured arm. “Your mouth threatens to be as big as your other appendage.”

Any other man who would make such an implication as Le Bret would have had his guts ribboned on Cyrano’s blade, but the older cadet — and Cyrano’s oldest friend, besides Roxane herself — seems blessed with a rare leeway. Cyrano laughs, takes the blow with remarkable good humor, and helps Le Bret to his feet when the latter announces his goal to obtain more wine before the rest of the company drinks it all. He limps away, favoring his good leg heavily. Cyrano returns to his place just out of Roxane’s reach.

De Guiche, who had stiffened upon the reference to Cyrano’s nose — no doubt remembering his unfortunate companion Valvert’s encounter with the aforementioned feature — relaxes once more, but only for a moment. Something piques his scrutiny; curiosity shifting in his dark gaze. His eyes sweep around the fire, marking the carefully maintained space between Cyrano and Roxane, and the riotous celebrations happening around them. His brows draw together and his eyes narrow further the longer he looks about. Roxane does not know what he is searching for, until De Guiche’s gaze once more returns to flicker between she and Cyrano and the empty space to her right.

Christian, after escorting her to the physician’s tent and confessing the details of his and Cyrano’s ruse, had not been beside her for even a passing moment. He had been gone, off to find the wounded and identify the dead, when Roxane and Cyrano had reentered the world following the revelation of their feelings for each other. He and Cyrano had exchanged words out of her hearing, and parted amicably, but Cyrano has not seen fit to relay the details of his sentiments yet. Roxanne knows he is safe — she had seen him moving about the camp, stumbling between a few other men nought an hour ago — but to be a man’s wife and not be beside him is strange and anomalous. Too strange. Too anomalous.

De Guiche’s slitted eyes fall on her. His look is careful, not triumphant; he is not a man who has just discovered a way to undo the woman who spurned him, nor does he look at her like she is the rack upon which he will torture Cyrano. Roxane, worryingly, does not know what to expect.

The Comte motions an idle hand to the space of their campfire. “Madame...I would have expected your husband not to leave your side...” He does not phrase it as a question, and his gaze flickers deliberately to de Bergerac.

Cyrano, while not privy to the progression of De Guiche’s earlier piecing-together, does not miss the expectant and realizing tone of the Comte’s query. He bristles from his casual slouch with such violent quickness Roxane’s immediate, half-conscious instinct is to reach out and seize his hand where it rests on the log between them to prevent him from doing anything irreparably rash in her defense. She knows she all but gives the change between them away by doing so; for all that she was affectionate with him before, there is a weight to her motion, an honesty of the love she feels for him that she is sure sounds in the air like a bell. More damningly, Cyrano stills at her touch; the enormity of his regard, to stifle his ferociousness at her silent behest, is not lost on Roxane either.

The Comte, ever one for self-preservation, recognizes Cyrano’s murderous intent for what it is. He pales and lifts his hands appeasingly despite his vastly superior tactical position;. “Peace, de Bergerac. I mean neither you nor Roxane any harm.”

Cyrano sneers like he did at the Theatre de Bourgogne. It is an unpleasant baring of teeth. The detente is shattered, and Roxane fears that he will cut himself on the pieces. “You blithely ordered us to our deaths earlier this eve. Forgive me if I am disinclined to take you at your word.”

Many a more battle-tried man has cowered in the face of Cyrano’s particularly fearsome growling; to Roxane’s surprise, De Guiche pulls his shoulders back and continues in a mild, unthreatening tone. he could ruin them both with a few words. Half a day ago, he would not have hesitated, but now he speaks reasonably. “As I said before we all nearly perished in this godforsaken mud, I shan’t leave a lady undefended.”

Cyrano bristles further; his scoff of derision is loud and rough. To Roxane, it is clear that he takes umbrage at the insinuation he would not be defense enough for her. The Comte intuits the same; pointedly, he looks to where Roxane still grips Cyrano’s hand. “It is her husband’s place to defend her, not yours, de Bergerac.”

Cyrano flinches when he hadn’t under the slap of Valvert’s glove. De Guiche’s unsubtle rejoinder strikes true, and Roxane is too slow to anchor Cyrano’s hand in hers before he pales and withdraws it.

De Guiche observes the interaction with interest, wisely tempered by caution. “Despite you both having duped me, I do still possess the power of sight; you have been exchanging glances I can only describe as love-struck since the end of the battle. Christian has avoided keeping company with either of you, his ostensible wife and his closest friend. What has transpired?”

Cyrano, unexpectedly cowed, is silent and still. Roxane, all at once, is inconsolably furious — she cannot stand seeing her love so off-kilter, cannot stand De Guiche’s presumptuous inquiry, cannot stand that Christian had not thought to maintain the ruse, and that she was such a fool. A breath; she fashions her anger into a mental blade like the one she’d carried during the siege and turns it on De Guiche.

“You have never been deserving of my secrets, monsieur. You are too bold to ask for them so soon after attempting to ruin my happiness.”

De Guiche concedes with graceful shame. “You are not wrong, I am not too proud to say. As for why I ask...” he hesitates, shifting to include Cyrano in his address, “I am also not too proud to admit my life was in your hands today, de Bergerac, and I find it returned, and myself the debtor.” He gestures aimlessly, “I wish to help the both of you.”

“You assume we need it.” The guttural notes of Cyrano’s ire have faded, but there is still an edge, and his eyes are a sharp, wary blue. Roxane nearly looks to the heavens at the impetuous nerve of him, so bold as to be brash. God, she loves him, and yet she wants to shake him by his ash-smudged collar. She feels De Guiche’s gaze fall solely on her, and she sighs her acknowledgement that his point has merit.

“You might.” The Comte mutters softly. “You cannot fight all of Parisian high society, nor stop the insidious talk with the force of your wit. Worse still, you are not the vulnerable one.”

It is Roxane’s turn to take umbrage, and this time she does not intend to give it back. “Do not presume to tell me my own weaknesses, Comte. I am all too aware of my position as a prize to be won, irrevocably tarnished the moment I capitulate. You not so long ago cajoled, begged, nearly forced your infatuation upon me. The Cadets were sent to war because of your sour vindictiveness upon falling short in your pursuit.” She nearly snarls in her fury, but she sighs it away, “Loathe as I am to admit it, you are not nearly the worst carrion gossip who would feed on the corpse of my good reputation.” She waves an airy hand at De Guiche, whose gaze had fallen to his boots at her mention of his campaign to bed her — At the same moment, Cyrano’s gaze had glinted dangerously silver — and De Guiche’s conscience-stricken features rise level with Roxane’s once more. She prompts him, “Pray tell, how you might help, Comte.”

De Guiche hesitates. He seems to take her charge with utter seriousness. Roxane’s regard for his political mind rises, barely; De Guiche, at the very least, knows that if he makes any genuine attempt to tarnish her, Cyrano will kill him, son-in-law to the Cardinal or no.

For all that he is formidable, Cyrano would be hard-pressed to reach De Guiche before Roxane cut him down herself.

“I…” De Guiche clears his throat officiously. “How many know that you and Christian wed?”

Roxane laughs lowly, “The entire camp, seeing as I kissed him in front of all of them. Called him husband. Little did I know the man who’d inspired me to cross a war zone was Cyrano.”

De Guiche winces at the bitter irony in her tone, but Roxane can see that he is intrigued. “Forgive me if I pry: I do not have the fully story. I may be better equipped to manipulate the situation in your favor if I could…know how you came to be…so utterly in love.” He says the last quietly. Roxane is surprised to register hollow longing in the words, a wistfulness she did not expect from such a shrewd man as De Guiche. For all his wooing of her, she’d never expected him to treasure tender emotions past their usefulness in manipulation. She feels a smidge of regret for misjudging yet another person in her life, at least in that small way.

She looks to Cyrano; it is primarily his tale to tell. His eyes are shocking in their cerulean shade, and there is a vulnerability in them that, if abused, could tear him apart. For all that his body and soul is steeled, his heart, Roxane realizes, has always been fragile. She wishes she had known; she would have protected it better. Maybe then he wouldn’t be looking at her now with such trepidation, such too-shy hopefulness. His resolve solidifies. He tips his head to her, then to the ground. He huffs a fortifying breath, then begins.

De Guiche listens attentively as Cyrano relays their tale. He begins at the theatre, with the burst of joy at being seen. He glosses over the despair caused by Roxane’s desires, but then moves into the part of the story she does not know herself. Cyrano’s artful words illustrate the grand scheme to woo her, the melding of two men into one, an author of divine prose and sublime turns of phrase with the face of a Grecian hero. De Guiche frowns at Cyrano like he is seeing a different man in the cloak of a de Bergerac, nonplussed at the self-consciousness, the crippling doubt that stayed his words from ever leaving the pages signed by another’s name. Roxane cannot stop tears from falling down her face. She wipes them away before Cyrano can see.

She tells her part too. It takes less time, but its importance can’t be overlooked, as she describes Christian’s honesty and Cyrano’s admittance. Their ardent revelations to each other. Their lack of foresight, in terms of their reputations. She falters as her words run up to the present; Cyrano’s hilt-calloused hand enfolds both of hers where they rest in her lap. It soothes her to feel the strength in him.

When she looks up, De Guiche’s eyes have fallen to their joined hands. He looks moved. The way he subtly swipes a knuckle under his eyes speaks to it.

After a moment, he smiles. It is a surprisingly kind expression on such a saturnine countenance. “You are both…unspeakably lucky to have found each other.” His gaze darkens, “I will not jeopardize that. I swear on my…recently reclaimed honor…” He has the wherewithal to jest lightly at his own expense, and a line of tension across Cyrano’s shoulders relaxes by a fraction.

“Nothing is yet dire. I have some…influence in certain circles that could smooth this over.”

De Guiche explains a potential plan. It involves quietly annulling the oaths Roxane and Christian made to each other, and explaining to the Cadets the truth, up until the point where they were married, and skipping to the reveal that Christian had asked Cyrano to continue writing the letters. Cyrano takes that upon himself; the Cadets respect the sanctity of the Guard House like few other places, and if he swears them to secrecy there, they will keep it on pain of a solid, inescapable pummeling.

Roxane swears to speak to Christian; they still have words that need exchanging, if only to resolve any festering hurt and misunderstanding.

Then De Guiche continues unexpectedly. “When you arrange the wedding…I should like…I would offer to cover any expenses you incur, for the ceremony.” He wrings his hands; Roxane has never seen him squirm before now. “I can also be your official witness, and speak to the sanctity of the vows in society.”

It is a gracious offer. Cyrano’s formidable nose wrinkles with suspicion for the first time in hours. He says what Roxane is thinking, “Such favors usually accrue a cost. What do you want from us?”

“Nothing, truly.” De Guiche sighs when Cyrano’s eyes narrow to chips of sapphire. “I swear it. I meant it, before, when I said I owed you my life, Cyrano. I also owe you an apology, Madame de Robin, for my uncouth behavior before.” He bows shallowly from his seat.

Roxane feels something close to relief wash cool through her chest for the first time in days. She allows herself a small smile. “You are forgiven, Comte, but I expect an extraordinarily extravagant wedding present.”

“Of course.” De Guiche, gratifyingly, is pale with relief too. She wonders at her luck — her near misfortune — of causing a Comte, a cadet, and a veritable hero to be afraid of her. She would like to get used to it.

She thinks Cyrano’s awe enough as she looks to him again. Gently, as if seeing the force of her regard in her eyes, he takes her hand in both of his and kisses her knuckles. For all that Cyrano de Bergerac is a force of nature, he tempers her.

De Guiche clears his throat. “I… think I will follow Le Bret’s example.” It is an unsubtle escape to leave them alone. Roxane cares very little.

Despite how many details they must coordinate and futures they must discuss, neither she nor Cyrano speak. He shifts close enough for her to pillow her head on his shoulder, her arms folded through the crook of his, and they regard the fire and the brightening stars on their last night in Arras.

Paris, and a life together, awaits them.

#cyrano de bergerac #cyrano #roxane #christian (mentioned)#De Guiche #Le Bret #This is a bit rushed and I APOLOGIZE #I hope you like it #It's been a long time coming #Hope it lives up to the hype #I was inspired by the shocking character development you gave De Guiche so here's so more #romance #OOF It's almost 1AM what am I doing #being a writer and being waaaaayyy behind

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