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queeniesblog · 6 months ago

Text

Desires of The Heart and Body

Pairing: Z x Carmi(Fem Favor!OC)

Word Count: 12.2k

Warnings: Smut

Synopsis:

Thankfully, Z grabbed Carmi's chin and forced her to look directly into his heated eyes. Oh how beautiful they were, she lovingly sighed in silence. Swirls of shimmering gold, crimson as red as rubies and a dash of violet beneath a mess of soft hair hypnotically entranced her, keeping Carmi hanging off of the demon’s every word.

“Do not,” Z growled, glaring down at the dark skinned woman as his tail began to curl around her throat. “Even think about those humans in my presence. Not your pathetic little friends, not your insignificant little ex, and definitely not that sniveling, annoying blue haired idiot.”

Carmi could feel herself trembling, but not from fear. Oh, never from fear. But she wished that it was, for fear would be a far less shameful emotion to have at this moment.

‘Jesus, sweet Jesus,’ Carmi silently prayed to a god she knew would not listen. ‘Please, please, please, do not let this man find out how attractive his voice is. I’ll never hear the end of it.’

Notes: Welcome to the first fanfic I have for planned for the VN Favor! Before the story starts, I would like to give a special shoutout to @concreteparasite for not only creating Z, but also developing this amazing VN that will NOT leave my head. I also would like to give another massive shoutout to zackvalence for absolutely killing this VA role and really bringing Z to life. And finally, I would like to give a big, big shoutout to @winged-self-indulgence for helping me, inspiring me and giving me the courage to actually publish this massive fic. Diya if it wasn't for you I wouldn't have the balls to post this. Please enjoy!

AO3 Link

“...finally I gave up and recommended some simple tips to get better rest: don’t ingest caffeine or alcohol, avoid any tech when getting ready for bed, try lowering the room temperature… You know, things like that.” Carmi’s dark eyes flickered to her drink as she remembered the conversation that took place earlier in the day with her creepy coworker at the movie theater they both worked at. It was already bad enough that Alvin just couldn’t(or wouldn’t at this point) take the hint and give up on his crush on her. A crush that was unreciprocated as Carmi had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who she had told everyone about multiple times. A boyfriend who made her happy. A boyfriend who was…

Listening to her story about her day at this very instant.

“Then I told him if all that didn’t work, then he should just hit up his GP and ask about using some zolpidem or eszopiclone.”

“Hmph.” Z’s face, which was usually a mixture of adorably cute and devilish handsome, had scrunched up in annoyance at the mention of her human co-worker. The demon made no efforts to hide his intense dislike of Alvin. But then again, it didn’t appear to be personal as Z didn’t seem to like anyone in her “friend group”. Maybe that was a red flag. Or, it would be if Carmi didn’t also start to carry an ever growing dislike of her supposed ‘friends’.

“You should have left him to suffer his fate. That would have been much more entertaining.” Z seemed to perk up at the thought of Alvin having to suffer multiple sleepless nights. Dizzy, disoriented and having to endure splitting headaches every single waking moment. As tempting as it was to ignore Alvin and leave him to suffer, Carmi was worried about him. Not because she cared about her co-worker(quite the opposite really) but more so, concerned that if his mental state deteriorated any further, there was no telling what Alvin could do. As easy as it was to simply wave off Alvin of being incapable of committing horrible actions due to his personality alone, it was better safe than sorry. Carmi would rather deal with a minor annoyance now, than a massive problem later.

“Hmm.. at least he has good tastes in candies.” Carmi rolled the strawberry bon-bon between her dark fingers. At least helping people sometimes had its perks. Even if Alvin was an annoying, creepy, incel of a stalker, at least he had a general idea of what she liked. “It's one of his few redeeming qualities.”

“Few?” Carmi could already hear Z’s unspoken question of ‘He has ANY redeeming qualities?’

“I mean, as much as I don’t personally like the guy, Alvin isn’t the worst person I’ve had to work with…” Carmi thought long and hard about the many group projects she had to endure in her younger school days. Unfortunately, being the quiet kid with the best grades often meant that her classmates were going to be as useful as a broken candy coated jizz-filled condom.

“He pulls his weight, he doesn’t do things that would get me in trouble, and when I ask him to do something, he does it.” Carmi listed off, oblivious to the demon’s growing ire. “Yeah… he’s not a bad partner at all.”

Carmi swirled the chilled brandy around, as if the sound of the liquid hitting against the glass would help calm her thoughts. Carmi had been in romantic relationships before- first with Jay and then her recent ex, Xander. Feeling sexual desires for another wasn’t new territory for her, hell, even having sex wasn’t. But she had never felt it with such intensity, such ferocity . It was as if the make-out session Carmi had shared with the fiend had unlocked some sort of floodgate. When they were together, it was bad enough, but at least Carmi could distract herself with the endless entertainment that Z provided. He was very good at distracting her from her problems after all.

When they were apart however?

The dark skinned woman knew from the moment that she looked for Z’s adorable dimple whenever he smiled, that she was done for. And unsurprisingly, her hypothesis had been one-hundred percent correct. Whenever the two could not be around each other, it was like utter agony . All she wanted to do was spend time with Z, or talk and text him to see how he was doing when they couldn’t be hanging out. It had even affected her emotionless persona at her job. If there was any time that Carmi didn’t need to use her brain on the job, she would simply sigh and mentally moan about how much better it would be if Z was with her, or she with him. In the back of her head, all Carmi could constantly think about was her boyfriend- his shit eating smile showing off his sharp teeth and split tongue, the smell of whiskey and smoke that curled around his body, his dangerously honey sweet voice, his eyes, his memorizing eyes…

Carmi mentality slapped herself aside the head. She was becoming too clingy. This way of thinking was downright creepy and had gotten to such a bad point that Carmi had bought a black silk choker with an oval shaped pendant. But not just any necklace. No, it was a gorgeous fire stone opal that shimmered beautifully, with the same colors of Z’s eyes. It had cost her a pretty penny too- but when she had first seen it while window shopping on one of her few off days, it was like the dark skinned woman had blacked out. Before Carmi could even register what was going on, the bagged and paid for necklace was already in her hand with the shopkeeper waving her goodbye. She resisted the urge to kick herself as she quickly strode her way back home. Why, why had she done that?!

Carmi's eyes flickered to the agitated demon as she once again stewed over her thoughts. No, she knew why she had bought the damn necklace. She hated to admit it but… the thought of wearing something that subtly showed just who she belonged to sent a pleasant tingling chill down her spine. God, that was so embarrassing to admit. It was even more embarrassing to admit she was wearing the dang thing! Not that Z had made the connection thankfully. Or… did she want him to notice? A non-verbal symbol of her devotion to him. Would Z like it if they had known just how badly she wanted to be marked by him…?

The small candy felt warm in her hands. Carmi didn’t feel like eating the sweet, nor answering any of the questions she had asked herself. Besides, the woman could see how annoyed her companion had gotten at the mention of her coworker.

“Uhhh, I don’t really want to eat any sweets right now.” Carmi placed the candy on the table in front of the fiend. She didn’t want to risk touching him, as any physical contact might have emboldened her to ask Z if he wanted to grope her ass or chest. “You can have it if you want-”

Z swiftly flicked the candy across the table and onto the floor. Or rather, attempted as Carmi quickly intervened, blocking the action with her hand. The strawberry bon-bon rolled pitifully onto the floor.

“Z… why would you do that?”

“It had a bug on it.” Z lied. Carmi sighed and narrowed her eyes at the demon as she pointed a finger at him.

“Listen Z. I don’t know what type of demonic mumbo jumbo you have going on where literally no one reacts to our presence,” Carmi started to lower herself to receive the abandoned candy. “But I was raised to always clean up after myself when I went out to eat. It is never okay to leave a mess!”

“Really now?” Carmi couldn’t see all of Z’s face, but she could practically hear his eyebrow raising. She thought about what she said a bit more as she hummed thoughtfully.

“Hmmm… not really, no. They were pretty abusive to the waiter staff now that I think about it.” Carmi rested her chin on the table. “Not the point though. I always clean up any mess that I make.”

“Awww, look at you being such a good girl Carmi.” Z cooed as if she was an adorable pet. A tiny shiver nearly ran through her body but she suppressed the sensation. She was getting quite good about doing that around Z now.

‘Yeah, I’ll be your good girl any day of the week.’ Carmi thought to herself.

“Haha, yeah! Right back at you, your highness!” Carmi nervously laughed as the woman practically dove underneath the table to hide the blood rushing to her face.

‘Right back at you? RIGHT BACK FUCKING AT YOU?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!’ The urge to slam her head on the wall in frustration was immense. ‘WHY THE FUCK DID I SAY THAT?!’

She wanted Z so, so incredibly badly that at this point, it was making her look fucking stupid. And even though it caused her spikes of shame to run rampant throughout Carmi’s body, it did nothing to rein in the borderline animalistic urges she felt towards the demon. The thoughts about Z couldn’t be stopped at this point.

But… would she want them to stop?

True, it had become difficult for Carmi to rein in her lustful urges. It was if every time she managed to squander one depraved thought about the demon, two more would pop up. They would whisper temptations in her mind, recounting and speculating the possibilities of what could happen if she managed to fuck Z. Each time left Carmi with goosebumps on her dark skin and her feeling like a depraved, dripping mess. But, wasn’t it natural to feel sexual attraction to a romantic partner? Maybe not to this particular degree, but many people had started relationships based on lust and lust alone(they weren’t necessarily good relationships, but that wasn’t the point).

It wasn’t that she didn’t like being in a relationship with him either. It was in fact, the very opposite. Z had been a breath of fresh air in the piss-filled diarrhea shitstorm that was Carmi’s life. A reprise from all of the worries and fears that plagued her mind. Was it sad to admit that Z had treated her better than anyone else in all of her years alive? Probably, but it wasn't like she had anyone else to tell. The demon was interesting, charming and… surprisingly sweet. He had the ability to distract her from problems she couldn’t immediately fix, or make her laugh so hard that she struggled to breathe. And even when he couldn’t help her with her problems or cheer her up with a joke… Z would just… be there for her. Listen to her worries and offer comfort. They couldn’t fix everything that was wrong in her life, nor did Carmi expect him to. It was the simple fact that he stayed, and supported her that mattered the most. It had felt so foreign and yet so good to know that no matter what, Z had her back, and that she didn’t have to be alone anymore.

It also didn’t help her that Z was extremely easy on the eyes. Carmi hadn’t even noticed her growing attraction to Z until it was too late. When she had first laid eyes upon him, Z looked… fine. His horns, tail and sharp teeth were such an oddity that it caused her to take a second glance but aside from that, there was nothing particularly notable about him. It was only when Carmi started to grow ever fonder of her demon that she began to take notice of certain features he had. How his brownish black hair curled around his face and horns. Was it always so soft looking? The way that his tail would slow down once the demon was deep in thought was downright adorable. She even took note of how Z even had a cute little dimple on the right side of his face that would appear once he smirked. It was easy to miss, but it was there. Carmi would know considering she stared at it in awe every time it showed. Sometimes, they even gave her cuteness aggression so intense that she just wanted to squeeze him(with both her arms and legs) for the rest of her days.

In other words, he was stupidly gorgeous.

So why couldn’t she bring herself to finally bang him?

Who was she kidding? Carmi was a terrible flirt and was just as responsible for the lack of intimacy in the relationship as Z. She wanted to, but everytime the opportunity came up, she would just freeze and then laugh it off. And the few times she was bold enough to tease the demon, the courage would disappear faster than her biological parents did once Z retaliated. Why was she like this? She liked Z, she really, really liked him and… Carmi didn’t want to fuck it up somehow.

Suddenly, the idea of hiding underneath the table for the rest of eternity was starting to look very appealing. What if he didn’t like how she looked naked? What if she sounded or said something weird? What if she didn’t pleasure him well enough? So many doubts and worries filled her head that when there was a chance to make a move on him, she restrained herself. But Carmi had needs and was getting desperate at this point. The woman had half a mind to just flash him her fat tits and hoped that it somehow worked out for the both of them.

‘Why won’t you claim me for your own?’ Carmi wanted to ask him. Thinking about Z like that was wrong. But she couldn't help it, and the urges were growing more and more.‘Reach out and take me for yourself? I've dreamed of it. Every single night I have dreamed.’

As her eyes scanned for the discarded candy, Carmi’s thoughts began to wander towards Z once again. She really couldn’t help it.

Even her own body had become obsessed with him.

“Fuck…!”

Carmi’s body shuttered and squirmed from the pleasure given to her by her vibrating dildo. Laying on her back, she had one hand on her large chest to play with her tits, twisting and pinching them until they were sensitive. Carmi let out a little whimper as she worked her toy deeper inside with a quiet squelch. What she really wanted to feel was Z sliding two of his fingers deep inside, jackhammering her abused hole. Wanted him to rip off her lacy panties and cram his fat cock inside her, use her like a fleshlight while he moaned about how good she felt. As Carmi got closer and closer to her climax, her brain provided her with new scenarios about Z and she thrusted the toy in deeper.

…Her shoulders on the blanketed floor and her holes pointed up, legs bent as Z furiously pounded into her practically limp body. The position would make Carmi feel vulnerable, exposed and she would love every second of it. Z felt so big and hot that it would feel like her body was melting from the numerous creampies her lover had already so graciously provided her.

Carmi would then tense up as she reached her own orgasm, the action making the overflowing cum in her twitching hole be pushed out. More and more large pearly droplets would drooled down to hit her bunched-up hem and splashed onto her panting chest with each thrust…

…Or maybe she should ‘conveniently’ forget her panties and spread her legs wide while she wore a shorter dress? That would have to get Z’s attention. Besides, Carmi would love to see the look on his face when the little fiend had an unrestricted view of her leaking entrance, relaxed and flushed with arousal at their next meetup. The alcohol provided by the bar and the thrill of the exhibition would provide her with all the courage she would need. What would Z do when they noticed? Would he fuck her right there and then on the table…?

No, she should keep the underwear. After all, the idea of Z masturbating while pointing his cock at her crotch so he could cum inside her underwear would get her so hot and bothered. She’d lift up the hem of her dress and hold them between her teeth to better expose her cunt and breasts, just for him. Carmi would love to see Z furiously stroking his cock to the sight of her exposed pussy, flushed and panting like he was a dog in heat. But the feeling of the lashings of pearly cum on her bare mound would feel so much better. Yes… Carmi would love to have something she could feel on her lips all day. Especially if it was from Z…

…Large and heated hands would slip through the spaces between Carmi's arms and firmly gripped her heavy chest at home. A hot mouth settling in the gentle slope between the back of her neck and her shoulder, beginning to leave a trail of kisses and nips in their wake. Carmi would moan and reached back to grasp the demon’s body and horns for support. She’d bet that she would be able to feel his erect cock sliding between her thighs, and grinding himself between her dripping sex as his tail curled around her waist.

Fuck, she would give anything to have Z swipe his harden shaft through her lips and bump the bottom of her clit, pace growing in intensity as they both reached their peaks. She would flex her thighs around his dick as they both came. Z would be able to feel her tremble with an orgasm of her own, her pussy spasming on top of his cock and she wanted to feel Z slamming his hips against her ass a final time as he spurted rope after rope of hot cum onto her waiting hands in turn. After all, she couldn’t allow a single drop of Z’s load be wasted…

…The two locked in a passionate embrace, Carmi on her back, ankles locked around the demon’s hips, while Z was mounting her, thrusting deeply and drinking Carmi’s ecstatic noises with a deep kiss. He’d hold her in his arms and moan lovingly in her ear about how she was made for him, nobody could take her from him and how they were meant to be-

Carmi rode out her climax with a wail of pleasure, imagining it was Z who was bringing her to completion instead of some large silicone toy. After regaining control over her labored breaths, the heated pleasure that she felt turned into an icy bath of shame that washed over Carmi. What did she just do? She had just felt so lustful and pent up in the moment that she…

The reality of what had occurred set in and she felt something well up in her flushed body. Not shame, but frustration. Even though Carmi had orgasmed, it brought her little relief from the burning well of desire within her. It didn’t seem to matter if she fucked a plethora of people or pleasured herself with the newest sex toys, the end result would be the same. The feeling of being unfulfilled as all she could think about was Z.

Z, giggly and ecstatic as her dog licked his cheek. Z, warm and relaxed under the soft light of the bar. Z, annoyed and adorable as he lost their numbers game. Carmi wanted to love Z, be loved by Z, make love with Z, Z, Z, Z -

The glint of a shiny candy wrapper caught Carmi’s gaze, pulling her away from the depths of her memories. Great. Now she was kind of horny. Again . Back to square one. Crawling towards the strawberry bon-bon as it(ironically) laid near Z’s boots, Carmi slipped it into her jacket pocket. She’d make sure to throw it away when she’d return home. Or maybe she should find a trash bin here…? Carmi really didn’t want her dog to go looking for a forbidden treat that came with a trip to the vet. Knowing him, he wouldn’t even need to smell it. He'd just assume the young woman had something on her and start searching. Carmi blamed Z for that.

‘Okay, now I just need to… to…’ Carmi’s thoughts trailed off as she realized what position she was in. She was nearly touching the demon’s knees and past his thighs was his…

‘NO!’ Carmi mentally yelled at her brain. She wanted to force it back on track and never mention this day again. ‘ Stop it! We can’t be weird!’

But it was too late as her head had heard the name ‘Z’ and lost all ability to reason with logic. Carmi couldn’t get a good sight on his bulge from where she was, but it looked like it was on the larger size. What did he sound like when he was being pleasured? Carmi already found Z’s voice to be lovely, but she knew it would sound even better if he was whimpering from overstimulation. Was his cum more watery or was it thick and creamy? Oh, she hoped he cummed buckets. Carmi would be willing to bet money that Z giving her a nice and deep creampie would feel utterly amazing . Orgasming was the best part certainly, but Carmi liked to enjoy the tension and journey of reaching her high. Would the fiend be a selfish lover? She couldn’t imagine it, considering Z had been surprisingly so attentive to her needs. The hot, weighted feeling of her lust for Z sunk down the bottom of her stomach as she squeezed her aching thighs. For a single second, Carmi even wondered how he tasted …

Suddenly, as quick as a viper, Z’s tail wrapped itself around Carmi’s dry throat, pulling her closer to him. Despite its slim appearance, the thing was just as strong as any other part of his body, and it didn’t stop until her head was practically on one of Z’s thighs. He was already man spreading, so Carmi tried really hard not to think about the position she was in.

Key word “tried.”

‘DO NOT LOOK AT HIS DICK PRINT CARMI.’ She was practically screaming in her head at this point, begging her brain to listen to her just this one time. ‘FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DO NOT FUCKING LOOK AT IT. HE WILL NEVER LET US LIVE IT DOWN IF WE GET CAUGHT STARING.’

Carmi could feel herself trembling, but not from fear. Oh, never from fear. But she wished that it was, for fear would be a far less shameful emotion to have at this moment.

Carmi was so entranced by his voice, that it took her a second to register what Z had said. Instantly, whatever spell over her had broken and her jaw nearly dropped to the floor in shock.

“I’m not, and I’m borderline offended that you think that I would be thinking about that creep!” Carmi scoffed. She also wanted to roll her eyes, but she squashed the urge down. Honestly, she was more confused than anything. What on earth would Z have gotten the idea that the one she was thinking about was Alvin?

“Demon, remember?” Z tapped their horns, silver rings shining brightly. Carmi frowned, looking up at them, confusion swirling in her head. Why was Z bringing that up now? It wasn’t like it was hard to forget that he was a fiend from the literal pits of hell. What did that have to do with situation at all-

Oh. Oh.

Carmi felt heat flushing to her face for the second time that night. Z could have probably sensed how… excited she was getting underneath the table, which was extremely embarrassing. But that still didn’t answer the question of why Z mentioned her co-worker specifically . Was it something Carmi had said? She had mentioned a few things she thought were good about him, sure, but every other single time the guy was brought up, her distaste for him was clear as day. That was even if Carmi brought up Alvin at all, which she rarely ever did.

“Z, Alvin is not the cause of this!” Carmi hissed. She could feel the blood rushing to her face as she tried to stutter out a response. “I-it’s…”

“Hmmm?”

Her face was practically on fire at this point. Why wouldn’t she just spit out the truth? Carmi thought about it, confessing about… everything she had been feeling. The insides of Carmi’s guts churned as if they were the deep, oily waters of a terrifying storm. She did want him in that way, lord knows she couldn’t stop thinking about it. So why hadn’t she? Z was kind, he was funny, he was sweet… they were practically the perfect boyfriend, even if they loved to ramble on about arson. His many odd quirks just made him all the more charming. Carmi felt her heart let out an affectionate squeeze. She loved him. And insecurities be damned, she was going to show it.

In an instant, Carmi made up her mind. She was finally going to fuck Z.

Trying to calm herself before she fell into an anxiety fueled breakdown, Carmi looked straight at Z.

Z stared at her.

She stared at Z.

The flat spade shaped tail began to lightly slap Carmi on the forehead and nose.

“Hey-wait! Z, cut it ou- will you stop?!?” She spat out, her eyes closed as Z promptly ignored what she said. Without thinking, Carmi snapped her teeth forward and caught Z’s spade shaped tail in between her fangs. Immediately, Z let out a rough, pitchy gasp that ended in a grunt from the back of the throat, as if he was fighting the urge to moan fully.

Carmi nearly dropped the tail in pure shock. The gravity of the situation dawned on the heavyset woman and a mixture of fear and arousal combining themselves as one, twisting and squirming as it resided in her stomach. Did she really just put his tail in her mouth? Z had told her(albeit it was under his breath) she could if she wanted to, and god she did. The idea of finally being able to see Z in such a state again only made her heart pound faster.

“Aww, Dove . Do you need me to fill up your mouth that badly?” Z cooed, a beautiful red blush spreading upon his face. She was amazed that such a tiny action had such a profound effect on him. “If you’re truly that desperate, I can make sure that you put that sweet little tongue to good use.”

“Yeah, I am.” Carmi bluntly replied. “Can I suck you off Z?”

It was Z’s turn to look dumbfounded once he realized that the woman was serious, clearly not expecting his teasing to work this time. It didn’t stop him from excitedly nodding his head though. Oh fuck, if a simple touch was enough to have her fighting the urge to ask the demon to feel her up with his large, warm hands, then seeing Z leap at the chance for a BJ nearly had her naked on the table with her legs spread from the entrance of the bar to the fire exit. Carmi had to fuck him. Right now.

The stem was nearly as thick as a finger, smooth like rubber, and pleasant against her tongue. Taking the feeling of Z’s hand cradling her head as a more intimate invitation to continue, Carmi lapped the tip in between her teeth. It pressed against her lips and the woman lovingly gave a very light kiss before allowing her lips to part, her tongue dragging it into her maw. Again, Z huffed out a long groan. Her mind spun into a daze. Slowly, gently, Carmi dragged the demon’s tail deeper into her hot mouth. She rubbed it against the roof of her mouth as she could feel it pulsating with Z’s quickening heartbeat.

Flicking and lapping circles around the piece of flesh, Carmi made a show of sucking on it. The more the woman lavished the fiend’s tail with attention from her tongue, the more Z would let out delicious sounds that started to drive her insane as he thrusted his tail deeper until it hit the back of her throat. Hearing their breathy moans, no doubt enjoying the affection she was giving him, had caused Carmi to become bold enough to feel up his cock.

Instantly, the woman could feel him harden underneath her touch, could see the swell of his cock straining against the fabric of his pants from her presence. Hot excitement flooded her stomach and she could feel drool pool into her mouth. Swallowing thickly, Carmi’s dark hand quickly unbuttoned his black jeans and once again she felt him stir beneath her touch. Feeling bolder by the second, Carmi’s mouth leaned forward to Z’s pants and slowly, carefully, began to unzip his pants with her mouth.

Finally, Z’s cock sprung free as he was already half-hard, nearly hitting her in the face. A circumcised penis that was much like his fingers, long, thick, and turned black with a red crown. Dribbling precum in her soft hands, Carmi noted that it curved up slightly, in a way that was designed to attack that sensitive spot.

Carmi also noted that it was stupidly fucking massive.

‘What the FUCK?’ Why the hell is he so damn BIG?!’ Carmi asked herself, an incredulous tone weaving itself in her internal dialogue. It wasn’t just the length, but the thickness of it too. Though she felt a spike of panic bolt through her body, Carmi’s outward expression did not visibly change. Could she really take Z’s cock…? Carmi thought back to the many, many toys of differing sizes and shapes hidden in her apartment. If she was horny enough with some good prepping… eh. She probably could. But in the mouth was a different ball game entirely. It wasn’t as if Carmi had been practicing how to take a massive cock down her throat just in case she had the opportunity to suck Z off.

Well.

Maybe she had… but that wasn’t the point! Blowing a dildo was much different than giving one to a person made of flesh and blood. How the fuck was she going to fit this thing in her mouth? She really wanted him to feel good too… Maybe if she had a few more weeks of training her throat underneath her belt, Carmi would be less hesitant.

‘Well… I’ve got to see this through. I’m not backing down now.’ Carmi thought to herself. She was NOT going to go another day without dick. ‘I wanted to fuck Z, so I’m gonna fuck Z.’

Using just one hand and a whole bunch of lust filled courage, Carmi started to stroke him and palmed the demon’s cock as pre-cum dripped out, running in sticky ribbons alongside the veins of his shaft. Her cameo patterned off-shoulder dress had exposed her large chest, and the bottom of it had begun to ride up her thighs, revealing her wet panties. Even though the thought of Z shooting a nice and large load of hot cum onto her heated flesh made her hornier than she’d like to admit, Carmi did mean what she had said earlier.

She always cleaned up any mess that she made.

Carmi slowly let her half-lidded eyes fall shut as she parted her plump lips so that she could kiss the head of Z’s hardening cock.

Hearing the demon take a sharp intake of breath, she began to lovingly pepper small kisses all around the tip. Her steady wanting had quickly evolved into a lustful ache. Carmi wanted to take his hardened shaft in her mouth and feel him slide down her throat. How would it feel to have Z make her jaw ache and her dark eyes water? To feel the shake of his thighs, to hear his moans when he filled her mouth? The heavyset woman was very eager to find out.

Once Carmi was sure that she had smooched every single bit of the fiend that she could see, she opened her mouth a little wider and sucked on his leaking tip. Rubbing her tongue across his sensitive head, Carmi could hear a stuttering gasp once again catch in Z’s throat. Her tongue licked a hot stripe over their slit as her dark hands began to pump his cock.

“Thaaaat’s it Dove.” Z rasped out. The larger woman could feel the hand cradling her head tense tightly, sharp nails touching her scalp. “Go on, open up your throat for me.”

Resuming her task with renewed vigor, the eager woman began to run her hot tongue all over his throbbing shaft, licking and slurping at his cock. Then she began to sweep with long moist strokes as she sped up her hands. Lavishing his dick with eager attention, the more effort Carmi put into her blowjob, the hungrier she became. While she was excited for the demon to shoot cum in her mouth, Carmi was in no real hurry as she was pleasantly enjoying the experience of sucking Z off underneath the table.

“Aww, look at you go.” Z practically cooed through the breathless groans of pleasure. ”Such a good human. My good human.”

The excitement from having Z praise her had her body shivering from the anticipation, and her mouth felt just as hot as her clit. She focused on the heat of his stomach, the faint taste of his skin. The scent of smoke and whiskey to spur her on. Pressing her lips against the hairy base of his shaft, the woman could feel his cock oozing precum all the way down her hungry throat and Carmi moaned, the vibrations of her muffled cries had Z becoming louder, groaning in pleasure. His warm hands reached out to her face and stroked it tenderly, lovingly , as Carmi looked up at him, tears welling up from her dark eyes.

“Fuck…! Your mouth feels so damn good sweetheart.” Z was practically panting at this point. “You’re trying so hard to get me all the way down…”

At this point, Z had taken a more… active role. Grabbing her head to guide her mouth on his cock, Carmi simply followed the demon’s lead, licking and sucking as they tangled their claws in her muti-colored hair. Slowly and steadily, Z began to guide her head up and down until he was gently face fucking her, using Carmi’s mouth as nothing more than a glorified fleshlight.

And something about that turned her the hell on.

Carmi wanted Z to use her to reach his own orgasm. She wanted him to throw his head back and shamelessly moan as he emptied himself in her mouth. But most of all, Carmi wanted Z to stroke her face in the same loving manner he had done so before, all while staring down at her with the loveliest pair of heated eyes she had ever seen.

Carmi shuttered, waves of pure lust raced through her heated body as Z began to speed up his pace. His thrusting became more erratic and wild, body tensing up and the woman trembled in anticipation as much as the demon did. Z’s release was rapidly approaching and she couldn’t wait to finally taste him. Following his lead, Carmi began to pump and suck to match his tempo, her soft lips were slick with his pre-cum, making it easy for her to glide them up and down his shaft.

Z suddenly let out a choked curse as ropes of hot cum hit the back of her throat, Carmi stiffened and pushed down the urge to gag. As her lover continued to thrust his dick into her mouth, Carmi kept sucking voraciously as she gulped down everything their body provided. There was so much more than the woman expected, almost too much. But when the spurting seemed to slowly die down, Carmi practically nursed on the demon’s cock, milking out every last drop of their cum as used her hands to stroke his shaft.

She pulled her mouth away and his black and red cockhead bobbed up and down before her face. Carmi licked her lips and opened her mouth. She wanted to show him how she had drunk every single drop.

“Did I do a good job?” Carmi asked with a slur in her voice, drunk on the taste of him. Of Z.

The demon was practically caressing her face. She leaned into his loving touch as Z pulled her up. Carmi had become entranced by the way their bodies moved so smoothly in sync. Placing one knee on each side of his legs, the woman slid on top of Z and sat herself snuggly onto his lap, right where she belonged. Through dark, half-lidded eyes, Carmi spread her thighs to encourage Z to have access. Her body was filled with both shame and arousal, and eager for more of his touch.

But Z had never felt shameful and wasn’t going to now, especially with how his human was practically moaning in his lap. Z grabbed her ass and guided Carmi flush against them, her chest to their and her legs parted just enough to straddle their hips. Pulling her in close, their slick tongues slid against each other, hot and insistent, before disappearing into the other’s mouth in a heated french kiss. Z bucked upward against her covered entrance, grinding their throbbing cock against the spot that was dripping wet.

Carmi moaned into the kiss as she felt a rippling thrill run down through her belly and swirled in waves in her crotch. She could feel her engorged clit. The woman pitifully writhed her body in sync with Z’s, their hips moving against each other, allowing her to relish in the delicious friction. The persistent wet sounds of lips and tongues had left her pussy throbbing with desire and brain a scrambled mess. But she wanted more, no, she needed more.

“Z, I need you… Please?” Carmi tried to whimper as softly as she could. Squeezing Z’s hand before she intertwined with her own(or tried to anyway. She loved how small she felt when her body was near his), Carmi guided it between her breasts where the demon could feel her pulsating heart, slid it down below her quivering belly, and didn’t stop until his hot, black tipped hand was cupping her already dripping slit.

“After all this, of course you're soaked.” Z retorted. The demon didn't hesitate for a second as he pressed two fingers against Carmi’s swollen clit. “Nothing gets you off like being my personal little cum dump, hmmm?”

A jolt of pleasure shot through her body as the demon rubbed her heated mound with their fingers and restless movements, bringing forth a delicious, pulsing warmth into existence. Her body felt empty, as if she wanted something to plunge deep inside her core. As if the demon could read her mind, Carmi could feel Z’s hot fingers sliding down from her clit to the entrance of her hole, rubbing and teasing it before sinking two thin but long fingers in. Her juices were so plentiful that Z’s fingers slid in with ease. The palm of his hand slammed against her pussy, with juices dripping down onto his palm with each thrust.

Soft, pliant, and imbued with a sense of lust and desperation, the two kissed the other over and over with growing wetness and force. Breaking one of their heated kiss left Carmi whining at the loss of contact. Z kept one large and heated hand on her thick waist with the other fingerbanging her. The demon, forward as ever, left an open mouthed kiss to her collarbone and began to suck, most likely intending to leave a bruise. Carmi let out another breathy sigh.

“Z… Can we go back to your place…?” Carmi whispered in his ear, praying that she wouldn’t have to have their first time together on a bar table. Not because she was embarrassed, but more so the thing looked uncomfortable to get fucked on. “I don’t want anyone else to see me like this except you.” She trailed her lips on the edge of his helix before biting it for good measure.

Z muttered a “c’mere” underneath their breath as they grabbed her thighs and picked her up like she weighed nothing, holding her in a way that kept her legs spread wide. Despite not wanting to have a full-blown fucking session in the bar, Carmi couldn’t help herself and squeezed her legs, grinding her clit onto him. She could hear Z grunt in her ear. And for a single moment Carmi felt like she was completely weightless, clinging tightly onto her boyfriend for support as there was an inky blackness that surrounded them-

The pair of lovers landed softly onto Z’s bed.

There was unmistakable lust in every movement, every flinch, every twitch to their bodies. She moaned and pressed into him more. No matter how close the demon was, would it ever be enough? Carmi wanted to not only hold Z, but to have him bind himself to her soul. The woman wanted to have them intertwine themselves so intensely that they could not ever part, not without losing something integral.

When it was clear he was going to kiss her once more, Carmi didn’t resist. Kissing him back just as passionately, Carmi could barely remember the two throwing their clothes off. Every time they broke apart so Carmi could intake air, another piece of clothing would haphazardly be thrown to the side. She did spot the demon pocketing her thoroughly soaked panties which drove her wild. She’d have to remember to see which ones Z liked the best.

It didn’t take long for the lovers to be completely naked. A tantalizing combination of excitement and arousal pumped through her body. It was really happening, was she really about to have sex with her boyfriend? Carmi didn’t know and for once in her life, she didn’t care either. All Z had to do was lovingly stroke her face and whisper her name with that honey sweet voice of his, and she would fold in an instant. Carmi wanted to feel him, to taste him. To experience the dizzying rollercoaster that was Z with all of his ups and downs.

Carmi’s world shrank to just Z’s embrace as once again, their lips found each other, soft, pliant, and imbued with a sense of lust and desperation. Z eagerly ran his tongue over Carmi’s mouth and vice versa as the two lovers melted into a puddle of needy lust. Moving purely on instinct, Carmi allowed the demon to wrap his warm arms around her soft body and guide her down into the mattress, deepening the kiss while his hand roamed down her arching back. She hooked her thick legs around his hips and locked her ankles, pushing and grinding her crotch against his. He was already rock hard. Carmi could feel it.

‘More.’ Carmi wanted to beg him, her own mind clouded by a sexual fog. Months of pent-up lust had caught flame and was now threatening to boil over. ‘Give me more…!’

But Carmi couldn’t talk. Z was tasting her tongue, licking her lips, and drinking in all of the tiny sounds of pleasure she mewled out. Carmi’s long, black nails dug into his muscular shoulders, threatening to draw blood. They were in their own world and Carmi never wanted to leave it.

Z began to move from her plump lips to her exposed neck, alternating between kisses and nips all the way down until he reached her breasts. He rolled his tongue around them, teasing and sucking the tip of her nipples. They hardened inside his mouth and Z pinched the other one with his finger as Carmi cried out his name again in excitement. Sinking lower, the demon left a trail of kisses and sharp nips down her stomach until he left one directly above her smoldering mound. As Z parted her pillowy thighs, they lowered their head and hungrily gazed down at her leaking slit. Carmi could feel the air as it was sucked in by Z.

Was he… was he smelling her?

He groaned and kept his nose buried against her soaping entrance for a few more moments before he apparently found what he was looking for. Pulling at her dripping folds, the demon spread her pussy wide open with his black tipped fingers, revealing the vulnerable flesh of her throbbing clit. Carmi was amazed at how soft the demon’s lips were as she received a tender kiss to her overheated flesh and then a rough lick with the flat of his tongue that had left her whining for more.

She was starting to really squirm at this point. Trying her best to keep her eyes on the demon feasting between her legs, Carmi involuntarily throwed her head back in pure, cardinal bliss with a full-throated moan when Z gave her throbbing bud a nice, rough lick. Just like Carmi had suspected, Z felt much better than most of the toys she owned. If this was how good sex felt when they were just using his tongue, Carmi couldn’t wait for the main course.

“S-Shit…! Oh God, Z, your tongue …” She panted out.

Carmi thighs clamped around his head as Z continued their assault.

She grinded herself against his face, shamelessly thrusting into his hot mouth. Z switched between giving Carmi fast attention to her engorged bud, and then slowly fucking her with his dexterous tongue in her clenching hole. The demon fervently drunk up any juices Carmi’s body provided, greedily slurping up every single drop like it was the most exquisite thing he had ever tasted. The sounds were lewd and filthy, and did nothing but bring her closer to the edge.

‘Fuck.’ Carmi cursed at Z in her head. The fiend’s oral was making her release noises that no one had made her cry out before. ‘Stupid demon, with his stupid good-looks and his stupidly long tongue-’

“Ahhha-AH!” Carmi’s body curled at the sudden onslaught of pleasure. It seemed that Z’s tongue had found that oh-so-sensitive spot that resided deep within her cunt. She wrapped one hand around one of his red tipped horns and fisted a handful of the demon’s soft locks with the other, as if to gain a sense of control she knew she didn’t have. As she clung onto his horns with her fingers roughly tangled in his wild locks, her hips began to pump. The young woman was quivering and drenching her lover’s maw, grinding her crotch against Z’s hot mouth.

“Z-Z ! Sl-Ah, AH! Slow down! PLEASE!” Carmi finally managed to let out a high-pitched panting wheeze, but Z made no move to listen to her request. In fact, the demon began to eat her out even faster, devouring her with a vigor unmatched from any of her previous lovers. The woman began to wither and buck to escape the unrelenting pleasure but Z firmly held her in place no matter how hard she tried to escape his grasp. He held on to her hips as she bucked against him, back arching uncontrollably. She continued to let out a mixture of whimpers, moans and pleads that ended in tear-streaked crying as Carmi struggled to keep her head raised enough to watch Z practically make out with her sopping wet mound. Carmi could feel his hot, forked tongue abusing her g-spot, thrusting his tongue in and out of his tight slit, making her clench and tremble in Z’s mouth. She could feel her orgasm approaching closer and closer until the demon suddenly stopped the oral assault on her body.

“Hu-wha..?”

“You want to tell me who was the one who had you so flustered, Dove?” Z asked with a smirk, but there was no mirth within his eyes. Carmi nearly hit the roof. Was he really asking this now? Couldn’t he have at least finished eating his plate before giving her a random interrogation?

“I already told you Z, I-I wasn’t thinking about anyone!” Carmi tried to protest, attempting to close her legs. Z forced her dark thighs apart with ease, as they were much stronger than a human could ever hope to be. Carmi hated to admit to herself how hot it was that he could manhandle her like that.

“It’s no use lying to me Dove.” He replied in a singsong voice. Carmi did NOT feel like explaining how Z’s voice nearly made her bust a nut in the bar. The fiend already had so much power over her, they didn't need anymore ammo to bully her with. Besides, what if he found it more creepy than flattering?

“I-I wasn’t thinking about anyone you s-should worry a-about..!” It was technically the truth. But Carmi could see that her vague answer did nothing to placate her lover.

“Fine Dove. If it’s a game you want, it’s a game you’ll get.” Z said, their smirk turned into a downright sadistic grin, their smile showing off his dangerously sharp teeth. Carmi didn’t think she liked where this was going. “Let’s see how long you can last until you’re begging me to let you cum.”

And he was true to his word. Twice more did Z bring her close to the edge, and twice more did Z deny Carmi release. By the end of his third denial, Carmi had been reduced to a teary, sweaty mess. This was no longer a dream. This was a nightmare.

“Do you want to be a good girl and give me an answer?” Z smugly asked like the little fucking shit he was. This was the guy who had a claim of her mind, body and soul?

“Not. Happening.” Carmi gritted out through clenched teeth.

Seemingly deciding to change tactics, Z began to push Carmi’s legs closer to her chest, bending her in-half until she felt like a pretzel.

“I could devour you whole,” Z says gently, and Carmi could feel the heat of his words sinking into her bending body. “And I'd make it so good for you. Won't you let me, sweetheart? You just need to tell me the truth.”

Carmi cursed underneath her breath as she shook her head, hips involuntarily jerking into his touch. Fuck, should she just tell them? She wanted to, but the fear of rejection wrapped their hands around her throat and slicened her. It’d be fine right? Z had to give in at some point.

His fat tip drooled pre-cum and he took it one hand to slap it against Carmi’s already sensitive mound. She flinched at the feeling. The fiend nudged his cock against her throbbing clit once, twice, gathering her leaking juices before dragging it down to the very spot where he could have sunken himself into her warmth.

“Fuck, you're so wet.” Z groaned as they lined themselves up against her entrance. Carmi could feel him using the head of his shaft to part her labia. “When I rub the head of my cock along your slit, it's completely drenched. I bet I could just slide it right in-”

Carmi could feel the stretch, she could feel every throb, every vein, all his thickness filling her. Even her cunt started to squeeze his cock’s head like it was made for this and this alone. But before Z could penetrate her too deep, give her something that she could clench down on, Z would pull himself out.

“Why did you pull out?” Carmi breathlessly whined. “You felt so good …” Even though Z’s hardened cock was resting on her throbbing mound, She could swear she felt it twitch as a response to the question. The heat of their combined lust made her head spin. Holy shit, she was so sensitive that Carmi couldn’t tell if she was going to pass out or cum so hard that she would see heaven. She was leaning towards the former. Z must have sensed that, as he delivered a sharp bite to the back of her leg, determined to keep his human’s attention on them. The nip wasn’t necessarily painful. No, all it did was bring forth a different type of feeling within her body.

Z wasn’t far enough inside to be able to properly fuck Carmi yet, he’d start to move his hips, giving shallow thrusts as he pulled out slightly and sank himself right back in. The demon was only using his thick cockhead to stimulate her for now, giving her a taste of what she could have if Carmi gave into their demands. And much like receiving a sip of water while abandoned in a desert, the feeling had only been a brief moment of pleasure that, once passed, only left the woman craving more for more. However, with the combination of the fiend’s wandering hands, Carmi was sure that this was the closest she’d been to Hell. Z’s hands, large enough to greedily grab at her breast, pinching and twisting them. The woman wanted to break down in tears, everything felt simultaneously too much and not enough. Z gave her pleasure but never enough to satisfy her, to give her release from the torture of being denied another toe-curling orgasm. Z continued their teasing assault for what felt like hours , until Carmi finally cried out in defeat.

“It was you!”

Immediately, the woman could feel Z’s hands freeze up. She could feel the blood rushing to her face as Carmi tried to remember how to use her mouth and hurriedly spit out an explanation.

“It’s just that your voice sounds so nice and sometimes when I hear it, I start to think about you saying certain things and I know it’s weird, but sometimes you sound territorial and it, you, sound so good and I…” Her voice got smaller and smaller with each word when she realized what she had confessed to the demon who’s cock was still inside her. “I really… like… hearing it…”

Silence. That was all Carmi heard.

Instantly, she felt a freezing pit drop into her stomach. Holy hell, she fucked up. Oh, she fucked up bad. Why did she say that? Shit. Shit. Shit . Oh, this was it. Z was gonna call her a creepy weirdo, they would never talk to her again and she be left alone-

“You… like my voice…?” Z asked incredulously.

Carmi hesitantly removed her dark hands from her face, peaking at them to see the fiend with his jaw dropped. Z had looked completely gob smacked, as if he would have never in a million years guessed that it was his voice that got her hot and heavy back in the bar. Carmi nodded.

“Yeah… But that’s not it. Every single time you flirt, or when you show that I can trust you , or e-even when you smile…” Carmi practically murmured. This felt too intense, too intimate , confessing her feelings like this. “Every single part of you drives me insane, Z. Is that really so hard to believe…?”

“I could feel you getting anxious every time I tried to initiate things, so I assumed that you were too scared of me. Besides,” Z shrugged as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Who would ever trust a demon? You’d have to be insane.”

“I don’t trust other demons. I trust you Z.” She confessed. She had finally spilled everything out and Carmi could feel her face grow hot from not only being exposed physically, but emotionally as well. Oh God, she was rambling again. “And like you. Like, a lot. A concerning amount even-”

Z cut her off with a deep kiss. Immediately, whatever thoughts plagued her mind dissipated when their lips touched. Carmi looked at him with a dazed, lovesick expression as Z pushed her onto her back. How was he always able to calm her down so easily…? Was this what it was like to be in love?

“Hmm…? Is that right? My voice alone is all it takes for my human to get all worked up…” Once again, Carmi could feel the heat behind his words, the feeling running down her spine and making her walls twitch.

“Ugh, stop!” Carmi threw a pillow over her head. She wasn’t in love anymore. She was going to strangle him with her bare hands instead. “I knew you were gonna be like this!”

“Stop? How can I?” Z once again grabbed her, their lips meeting once again. She practically moaned as her lover slid his tongue against hers, feeling a rush of pleasure pump throughout her body. There were so many things Carmi wanted Z to do to her, and she to him . “Especially with the way your body is reacting .”

“Z…” The intimate kisses had riled her up all over again. She couldn’t and wouldn’t deny anymore. She was willing to beg for it at this point, shame and insecurities be damned. “Please…!”

“Go on,” Z purred as his tail swissed. His voice had switched from that of a lover to one of a predator that has caught its prey, playing with it to indulge their own sick desires. The cock inside her responded immediately with another pulse. Carmi could feel it. Was Z… was he fucking getting excited about hearing her beg for it? For him? “All you have to do is ask. Nicely. ”

Her pussy was like a smoldering ember between her pillowy thighs and Carmi nearly let out a sob, tears practically streaming down her face. “Please, please, please fuck me Z. I need to feel you.”

Carmi winced as her lover licked the falling tears from her cheeks as if they were droplets of an expensive spiced wine. Satisfied with her desperate pleads, her lover crawled back on top of her, their combined body weight sinking her into the mattress. The woman could feel her lover kissing her face and neck, sucking on the bite marks they'd left earlier. While they would disappear by the morning, Z would not. Sharp nails sunk into his arms as her boyfriend pushed himself deeper and they let out a moan, and grunt mixed into one. Her heated walls tightened around him reflexively, and she waited for the rest of that delicious stretch.

“Look at you, taking me like you were born for it.” His thrusts were still somewhat shallow, Carmi knew she wasn't taking him all the way, not yet. But her twitching hole was starting to adjust itself to accommodate the great bulk of his shaft as Z pushed himself in again and managed to slowly fuck in and out of her eager entrance. “And to think you’ve wanted this the entire time. You little tease.”

Z’s cock was much thicker than his tongue, less flexible but it filled her up so much better, a sturdy hardness that she could finally clench around so nicely. Carmi almost sobbed as Z withdrew, pulling his long, delicious cock almost completely out. He returned immediately when she whined from the loss. Z felt so good , so warm and so, so big … he was fulfilling her entirely, every bit of Carmi that was empty, every little space that needed his heat was now his and stuffed to the brim.

“I'm not some- I wasn’t-!" Carmi’s already weak argument ended in a loud gasp as Z reminded her who she belonged to with another good, deep thrust.

“Fuck… I can feel you tightening up, you’re- oh hells, trying to suck me in deeper-”

“Z-Z… ohgod oh fuck–!” Carmi shut her eyes from the intense pleasure, but Z was having none of it. He sunk his dagger like fangs into her leg once again, making sure she was watching his every move.

“Don't you dare look away sweetheart. Keep your eyes on me, just like that…” Carmi shuttered from a mixture of the pleasure of finally being fucked. Z’s honey sweet voice as he mumbled obscenities into her ears, reveling in her tightness, and the way her body fit so perfectly against his. Carmi gasped and cried out from his sudden depth as his cock rutted against a spot that left her absolutely writhing . “I want to see your face when I make you cum.”

Her body felt so weak, twitching, vulnerable and at the mercy to whatever the fiend desired. She tried in vain to hold back her whimpers, but they slipped out of her throat anyway, in a long and constant stream of cries that grew louder and more desperate as Z continued to fuck her. Carmi had tried to pull away from the demon, but she was in no position to do so. She could sense his hungry gaze as Z leaned in close, grinding his hips against hers. Fuck, Carmi could feel every single inch of his throbbing cock inside her spasming walls.

“Z-Z, I c-can’t…!”

“Oh, no, no Dove. You can. I barely even need to grab your hips, your body wouldn't let me go if I tried…” His tail began to rub on her engorged clit and Carmi gave another frantic series of moans from the stimulation. She was practically drowning in pleasure. “Look how badly you want this, sweetheart. Go on, squeeze me tighter. Thaaat’s it Carmi. Good girl.”

Carmi, for her part, could scarcely formulate a coherent thought aside from ‘yes, yes, yes…!’ . She'd put up so many walls, and having them all crumble at once was more than she could really process. She'd been terrified of ruining her relationship with Z, but now, she wanted to kick herself for not giving in and confessing how she felt sooner. Her lover rocked her back to the edge once more. Now Z was fucking his whole massive cock into her pussy with every lunge, burying the shaft so deep that his balls were slapping on her ass. Letting out high pitched whimpers as Z slid his painfully hard cock against a dangerously tender spot, Carmi genuinely couldn’t tell if his loud moaning made the experience better or worse. Z didn’t even try to be quiet, and it was nearly driving her to insanity.

Carmi squealed, breaking away from the kiss, as Z started to fuck Carmi with a frenzy that he’d held back until that moment, spurred on by her cries. The pressure was increasing, more and more.

“Oh Z-FUCK! I’m, I’m…!”

Carmi didn’t even have the chance to prepare herself before her orgasm hit her, juices gushing from her soaked pussy, coating Z in her arousal. Her back arched as her body spasmed while Z continued to fuck Carmi through her high for as long as it lasted. Her pulsating cunt slowly eased itself, leaving behind an overwhelming sensation that was strong enough to cause her legs to twitch. Z could feel her velvety walls clench around him as Carmi’s orgasm left her cunt drooling and pulsing with desire.

Even though she was sensitive from cumming, Z still rutted his fat cock in the whimpering woman. The feeling made her repeatedly squeal with every thrust with desire, surprise, even a little sting of pain. Carmi let out a particularly loud gasping wail when she felt for the first time a rush of hot, thick cum deep inside her. The pleasure was intense and overwhelming as the demon continued thrusted with spurt after spurt of hot cum, moaning as he practically emptied himself in her cunt. Once he was finished, she could see how the demon’s body trembled with the aftershocks of his release, still feeling the remnants of pleasure that washed over them.

Carmi wiggled her shaking legs from under Z and wrapped them around his chest. Maybe it was due to the orgasm he had just had, or maybe he was simply curious on what Carmi planned to do. Either way of thinking led to the same result. With Carmi straddling the demon underneath her. An excitement began to grow in her and she shifted her position so that the growing bulge pressed into her leaking entrance.

“Do you really not know what you do to me…?” Carmi grabbed hold of the length of his cock and rubbed her freshly filled pussy, teasing him. The cock had already become hard again, the head of it entering her. Z was panting at this point, more precum oozing from the tip to lubricate her already wet hole as Carmi began to slowly drop her full weight into his lap, enjoying the sensation of grinding his cock inside her. Taking in a deep breath, the woman fully sank onto him, feeling Z’s pulsating cock inside her once more. She planted her soft hands firmly on his toned torso to help steady her as she huffed and moaned.

“W-why would I even think about anyone else?” She raised herself up until only his sensitive, hard tip rubbed against her heat and then slammed herself down hard once more.

“Ah! Ahn! Ahh-mphf!” Carmi gasped and huffed delightedly each time she slammed her wide hips down. She could feel her pussy clamp down on Z, trying to keep the demon inside her as all she could do was moan, pant, and cry. The emotions that weld up inside of Carmi were so intense, that it was dizzying. She felt almost lightheaded, with nothing but the feeling of Z’s pulsating cock keeping her grounded. Fuck, why had she been holding back all this time?

“How can I-ngh! Even think of fucking any-Ah… Ah! One else?” Carmi could barely whine out her question. She was going to pound Z into the mattress and milk him for all he was worth, even if it was the last thing she was going to do. “All I think about is you , Z!”

Carmi’s hips began to ride Z’s cock in a frantic, almost frenzied pace and she could hear the absolutely filthy noises their bodies made together, a reminder of just how much Carmi desperately wanted to feel Z’s cum inside her body once more. The sounds of her pleasure reverberating through the room as she was riding him so hard that the bed bounced alongside her. From her plump lips began to spill every single lustful and downright depraved thought she had about the demon in the past few weeks. She professed how handsome he was, how much she desired him, and how much she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She couldn’t help nor even stop herself. It was as if her body had a mind of its own and decided that a confession of her sinful desires while bouncing on Z’s cock was the best course of action.

“When we were in that bar,” Carmi dragged her sharp nail on his chest, tracing the tattooed sigil and giving Z a devious smile. She really wanted to savor the feeling of the demon’s twitching cock inside her. Her cunt was aching and sensitive, but she didn’t care as Carmi was overcome by the freedom of her giving into her lust. She could cry out Z’s name, could whimper for his cock, could thrash and moan and sob and Carmi wanted to. God, she fucking wanted to. “All I could think about was how I wanted you to fuck me properly until I was stretched out, aching, and sore.”

Before Carmi would spill out anymore of her desires, bare anymore of her soul to him, Z had stuffed his neglected tail in her rambling mouth. She had bitten down on it. Hard.

Carmi immediately wanted to stop and check on the demon to make sure he wasn’t seriously hurt once she realized what she had done. Z may have been an immortal demon that could barely register pain, but Carmi could never forgive herself if she had harmed her lover, accident or not.

She would have done that, had Z not given out the most vocal and sluttiest moan Carmi had ever heard in her life, as he arched his back in pure, cardinal ecstasy.

“Ngh, that feels so good! Do that again, Dove! Harder! ”

Z began to loudly beg and whimper for her, stuttering Carmi’s name in an incoherent babble as they furiously pumped their hips to meet her own brutal pace. His shaft glided in and out of her sweet cunt easily due to the thick load he’d already flooded her with. The louder and more desperate Z got, the more times she would simply stop and squeeze his throbbing cock with her velvety walls, denying him release as the demon had done to her. She wanted to see him weak and whimpering. That would be a lovely sight to behold.

“Ahh f-fuck Dove! Keep riding me like that! ”

“I c-can’t stop, oh fuck, you feel so–!” Carmi felt the tingling sensation in her lower stomach. Z’s thick, creamy load once again flooded her cunt, and Carmi let out a pitiful, full body keen at the feeling of being so full, pumped so completely. Perverted sounds of pleasure filled the room as the two lovers rode out their collective orgasms together in a scene that was as passionate as it was deprived. Finally, when the last spasm from his cock died out, Z let out a low moan and went into a full body shudder.

By the time she was done riding him, Carmi was unable to do anything but lay upon his warm chest, feeling limp and satisfied as she listened to his racing heartbeat. Her mound still tingled in the aftermath of her climax. She could feel Z’s cum drip sluggishly out of her abused hole and down her thigh. Carmi was exhausted, but also happy and confusingly, dizzyingly in love.

‘I could stay like this forever.’ She thought to herself as she nuzzled the crook of Z’s neck. She breathed in his scent. ‘I wouldn’t mind it. Not one bit.’ The steady beating of Z’s heart, the feel of his caring embrace and snuggling into the warmth the demon’s body provided… Yes, Carmi could stay like this forever and she wouldn’t have blinked an eye.

But unfortunately, the world had never been kind to Carmi and wasn’t going to start now.

The dark-skinned woman let out an embarrassingly loud and weird sounding yelp as she suddenly found herself on her back. Before Carmi even had a chance to make sense of what was happening, Z was already climbing on top of her body, spreading her legs and looking down at her sweating and flustered form. Though she could not see his eyes, Carmi could feel the heat of their gaze trail hungerly across her body.

“Uhh… Z?” She nervously giggled, wondering what was going on. “What are you…?”

“Oh, I’m going to make sure that I fulfill every single one of your fantasies tonight to make up for lost time.” Carmi stared up at the demonic entity between her thighs. She could already tell based upon his excited, almost manic smile and unhinged personality, that Z was not kidding.

“Don’t worry Dove,” They practically purred, a toothy grin spreading across their face. Z settled themselves right in between Carmi’s legs, hiking her warm, soft thighs around his waist. “I’ll fuck you until you can’t remember how to speak, and I’ll keep fucking you until you pass out. Even then, I won't stop. I’m not one to get tired easily , after all,”

Z pressed such a gentle and deceptively innocent kiss on her mouth, that it made Carmi instantly relax and nearly forget the position she was(and going to be) in.

“Oh, me and my big, stupid, horny mouth.’ Carmi thought, already resigning herself to her fate. ‘Well, it was nice being able to walk when I could...’

#favor vn #🗡️z #favor fic #male yandere #z x oc #favor vn oc #Z x Carmi #Can you believe that this thing was only suppose to be around 5-6k #whoopies!#can you really blame me #Z is so fine #Concrete really cooked with that one

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zebrabaker · 5 years ago

Text

The Mermaid, A MLB Oneshot

THIS IS A ONESHOT, DO NOT ASK FOR MORE!

Adrien was bored. He was in yet another lesson, and his father was expecting him to spend time with Princess Chloe later. Better her than Princess Lila, at least. Finally, Madame Mendelieve closed her book, and headed for the door. Adrien sat still until she was gone, before jumping up out of his seat. He stretched his back and ran for the door that lead to the servant’s passages. He ran along the narrow, winding paths, before reaching the small courtyard where his best friend, Nino, was practicing his guitar.

“Hey man! How were lessons?” Nino adjusted his hat and looked up at him, smiling. This was why Adrien liked Nino. He didn’t treat him like a prince, but like a friend. It was refreshing.

“Boring as ever.” Adrien huffed, and joined his friend in the bench.

“Well I have some good news! Captain Theo has brought back something awesome from his latest trip! You’ll never guess what it is.” Nino smirked and plucked a string.

“What? Another treasure chest?” Adrien scoffed.

“Nope. An actual mermaid!” Adrien froze. A mermaid? No way.

“Be realistic, Nino. Mermaids are just myths.”

“No! I saw this one myself! We can go see it tomorrow morning, I’ll set it up. It’s gonna be so cool!” Nino bounced, excited.

“Alright, alright. For now, let’s head in; it’s almost time for lunch.” Adrien gave Nino a hand up, and the two reentered the palace

X0X0X

Marinette swam back, assessing the glass that held her. She flicked her tail as she thought, before nodding. She angled her shoulders, braced her arms, and slashed her tail down. Her body jetted through the water, and she rammed against the glass and bounced off. With a growl, she watched the glass. Nothing. She had rammed the glass dozens of times and nothing had happened! A weak chuckle came from the outside of her tank, and she glared at the human leaning against the wall across from her enclosure.

“That won’t work, little fish. The glass is bulletproof. No matter how many times you ram into it, it won’t even crack. You may as well rest. The prince will be here to see you in the morning.” He smirked at her before strolling away. She had to get home. She couldn’t stay here! Without her, the sea would die! She swam back, assessed the glass, and readied herself again.

X0X0X

Adrien followed Nino deep into the basement of the palace. They weren’t near the old dungeons, but he still felt uneasy.

“How much further?” He hissed to Nino.

“Just through here. C’mon!” Nino grabbed his wrist and pulled him through the doorway into a dark room. Nino flipped the lights on, and Adrien glanced around. One wall was glass, and looked like an aquarium. The bottom of the tank was coated in sand, with pearls of various sizes and colors scattered about. There were a few strands of seaweed swaying in the water, and the largest clam shell he had ever seen was sitting open in the center. It looked like it could host a mermaid, but that was just it. There was no mermaid. Adrien turned to Nino and sighed.

“I told you, Nino, mermai- “Adrien was cut off when he heard a large thunk from the other side of the glass. He wheeled about, and felt his jaw drop.

Floating on the other side of the glass was an honest to god mermaid. Her hair was black, and her tail a vivid pink, almost red. Her eyes, which glared hatefully at him, were a shimmering blue. Her skin was paler than a pearl, and she had a splattering of freckles. She pounded a fist against the glass, and he realized she had been making odd sounds at them.

“Whoa. She’s…” Adrien trailed off, unsure of what to say. Lovely did not fit, nor did beautiful. She was flawless.

“Creepy? Yeah. I mean, it’s pretty and all that, but something about it just sets me on edge.” Nino shuddered. Adrien glanced at his friend, confused. She was not creepy! She was the most perfect thing he had ever seen. He glanced back at her and sighed. She was swimming away now, tail slashing through the water.

“Where is she going?” He asked Nino.

“It keeps trying to break the glass. It won’t work, though. The glass is bullet proof.” Nino knocked against the glass, smirking. “Just think, the kingdom of Agreste has it’s own personal mermaid. I hear that their singing can convince men to throw themselves overboard. Wanna see if it’ll sing for us?” Nino pulled his guitar from his back, and strummed a cord. Suddenly, the mermaid was there, face and hands pressed up against the glass. She was staring at Nino with her pupils blown wide. He continued to play, a small shanty he had learned from the sailors down by the docks, and the mermaid began to hum.

X0X0X

Marinette would never admit, but she loved human music. They could not sing, not like her people, so they had made things to do it for them. The darker human was using one right now, pulling at strings and watching her. She began to hum, wanting him to play more. When he did not stop, when she began to sing in her mother tongue.

“Oh, the waves roll low

And the waves roll high,

And so, it goes,

Under a bright blue endless sky.

Waves try to measure,

The days that we treasure,

Wave hello and wave goodbye.”

It was an ancient lullaby, one that every merfolk heard from their parents at some point as a baby. The humans were staring at her, wide eyed. The pale one hit the darker one on the arm, and said something she could not hear. The darker one gulped and began to play again. Marinette beamed and quickly thought of another lullaby, one Queen Anarka had taught her the last time she and her children had come to visit.

“Hush now, mo stoirin,

Close your eyes and sleep.

Waltzing the waves,

Diving the deep.

Stars are shining bright,

The wind is on the rise.

Whispering words, of long-lost lullabies.

Oh, won’t you come with me?

Where the moon is made of gold.

And in the morning sun,

We’ll be sailing.

Oh, won’t you come with me?

Where the ocean meets the sky.

And as the clouds roll by,

We’ll sing the song of the sea.”

Marinette held the last note, and sighed when it was done. She loved that song. It sounded better when her friends acted as her chorus, but it was okay on her own. The door opened behind the two humans, and let in the one who had caught her. He was tall and had dark hair, wearing a great deal of dark fabric. The two smaller humans spoke with him, before leaving with him. Marinette sighed. She hated being alone. Merfolk were social creatures, almost always together. Worst of all was that the small space she was kept in was dark, with no lava pockets or glow fish to give her heat and light. She shivered, and swam into the seaweed patch. Her family would get her out of here soon.

X0X0X

They returned the next day, the pale one and the dark one. This, time, neither carried an instrument. Instead, the sat and stared at her. The pale one began to sing, and the dark one reluctantly joined him. Marinette recognized the song. It was a love song! How dare this puny human try to woo her! She glared and sat down inside the large clam shell, turning her back. She was engaged, as any merfolk with eyes could tell. Of course, human’s might not be able to, but she still would not sing with them. She sat with her back turned until they left. She would be out of here soon enough.

X0X0X

Adrien burst into Nino’s room, beaming.

“Whoa, Adrien! Is everything okay, dude?” Nino stood from his bed, setting aside his headphones.

“I just had the best idea, Nino! A festival! We call for the most talented musicians in the land, and we have them perform with her! We can move her cage into the square! It’ll be great!” Adrien was bouncing in place.

“That’s a great idea, dude! We’ll have to ask Captain Theo, since he’s the one who caught it though.” Nino grabbed his headphones and headed for the door. “Let’s go ask!”

X0X0X

He had said yes, and preparations began at once. Adrien commissioned a large tank, big enough that she could swim around. Nino began sending invites to the best musicians in all of Agreste. Soon, the big day came. The tank was placed in the square, and the mermaid had been moved while she slept. She had woken up dazed and confused, swimming about and looking out at the square. She had caught sight of the water on the other end of the square, and had been staring at it ever since.

X0X0X

She knew humans were foolish, but this was extreme. She was within just a few yards of the ocean; she could hear it calling out for her! She hummed, low in the back of her throat, and waited. After just a few minutes, she heard the reply.

“We cannot reach you, princess! You are too far! Try to move closer!” It was Sir Pierre, head of the guard. She looked around, frantic. She was so close! She just had to move this tank! She rammed her shoulder against the side, and growled when nothing happened. She tried, again and again, to move closer, but all she did was slosh water over the edge of her tank.

“I can’t! The cage I am in is too heavy! I will distract the humans while you look for a way to get me out!” Marinette swept around the cage, looking at all the humans staring at her. She saw several in a line, each holding an instrument. The pale one who visited her was standing on a platform, facing the crowd. He began to speak, and one of the humans in line stepped forward. Two others came over and quickly assembled a device next to her tank. Once the machine was all together, he smirked at the crowd before pushing several buttons. The machine began to emit horrible sounds, but the humans seemed to enjoy it. She slammed her hands over her ears, and shook her head, trying to block out the noise. It sounded like the machine was trying to make music, but was failing. Horribly. It was dull and lifeless, lacking soul. After a few seconds of this torture, the pale one spoke again. The one controlling the machine yelled at him, before stomping off. The two humans form before disassembled the machine, and another human stepped forward. This one had vivid hair and dramatic clothes. It strummed at it’s guitar, and began to sing.

“Record scratch; Steve Miller Band, Tattooed necks and tattooed hands. Oh, how don’t you drown in a rain storm? Fresh regrets, vodka sweats, the sun is down and we’re bound to get exhausted and so far from the shore.” Marinette trilled when the human began the song. She knew this one from a few fishing boats playing it while they were working! She gladly joined in, shimmying her tail to the beat.

“You’re never gonna get it, I’m a hazard to myself, I’ll break it to you easy This is hell, this is hell! You’re looking and whispering; you think I’m someone else. This is hell, yes. Literal hell!” She struggled to form the words, as she did not speak the human tongue. “We don’t have to talk, we don’t have to dance, we don’t have to smile, we don’t have to make friends. It’s so nice to meet you, let’s never meet again! We don’t have to talk; we don’t have to dance; we don’t have to dance!” By the end of the song, Marinette was panting, and had almost been distracted from why she was doing this. A few other artists tried to get her to sing, but only one succeeded, a small girl with a violin. After her refusal of another artist, she saw a flash of teal out of the corner of her eye. She twirled in her tank, pretending to be jubilant, but really trying to make sure she hadn’t just imagined what she saw. There he was, hiding in a corner! He winked at her and she couldn’t help but trill.

The pale one was smiling at her, like she was a sea-lion who had just done some cute trick. How ridiculous. Another human came up to him, with long hair the same color as the pale ones. She wore a dress that trailed behind her, and sneered at Marinette. The pale one smiled at her, and the female said something to him. He nodded, and she approached the tank. She snapped her fingers, and a red-haired human approached, carrying a stool. The blonde sat, and began to sing. Marinette slammed her hands over her ear frills and whined. The girl couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket! The blonde snarled, and slammed a hand against the tank, causing ripples in the water that disoriented Marinette. She shook her head, trying to think clearly. The blonde stormed off, and the pale one addressed the crowd before chasing after her.

X0X0X

This was not going how he had planned! The mermaid was supposed to sing with all of the best musicians Agreste had to offer. Instead, she had sung with Jagged Stone and no-one else. He had finally decided to let the commoners try, but only a small girl with a violin managed to get the mermaid to perform. He had panicked, and turned it into a contest. Chloe had then decreed that she could easily make the creature perform, and had begun singing a song from her homeland. The mermaid acted as if she was in physical pain, and Chloe had thrown a fit before storming off. He had told the audience they were going to give the mermaid a break, and chased after her. It had taken half an hour to calm her down and drag her back. By the time he had gotten back onstage, most of the crowd had left, with only a few bored teens still gathered around the tank.

“Your Highness, may I try?” A tall boy with hair that faded to teal at the tips was standing by the stage, gazing up at Adrien hopefully.

“You can try, but there’s no guarantee she’ll respond.” Adrien shrugged. This boy didn’t even have an instrument that he could tell, but it couldn’t hurt. The boy nodded, and headed for the tank, where the mermaid was watching him approach. The boy sat on the stool Chloe had abandoned and smiled at the mermaid.

“Lavender’s blue, dilly, dilly, lavender’s green. When I am King dilly, dilly, you shall be queen.” The mermaid beamed and twisted about as if twirling.

“Who told you so, dilly, dilly, who told you so?” The mermaid sung back, not in the stilted words of before, but flowing and smooth. There was a challenging look in her eye, one that was matched by that in the boys.

“T’was my own heart, dilly, dilly, that told me so.” He shot back, smiling. The two began to sing in unison, and it entrapped Adrien, making him unable to look away.

“Call up your men, dilly, dilly, set them to work. Some to the plow, dilly, dilly, some to the fork. Some to make hay, dilly, dilly, some to cut corn, while you and I, dilly, dilly, keep our selves warm. Lavender’s green, dilly, dilly, lavender’s blue, if you love me, dilly, dilly, I will love you.”

“Let the birds sing, dilly, dilly, and the lambs play. We shall be safe, dilly, dilly, out of harm’s way.” The mermaid took over, placing one of her hands flat against the glass, while the other was fisted over her heart. “I like to dance, dilly, dilly, I like to sing. When I am queen, dilly, dilly, you’ll be my king. Who told me so, dilly, dilly, who told me so? I told myself so, dilly, dilly, I told me so.” She pulled out the last note, and Adrien was shocked to see the usually hateful mermaid, smile tenderly at the blue-haired boy. Then, there was a crash from behind him. Adrien wheeled around, trying to find the source, only to see a broken vase laying in the road.

By the time he turned back around, the blue-haired boy had thrown something into the tank. The mermaid grabbed it, and leapt out of the tank, flinging it about her shoulders. She landed not as a girl with the tail of a fish, but a seal. The boy scooped the seal into his arms, and ran for the water. He tossed the animal in, before turning to face Adrien.

“Take her again and we will sink your nation like we did Atlantis!” He bellowed, before diving into the water. Adrien ran to the edge of the dock, and waited, frantic. The boy was human, he would need to breathe eventually. He stood, frantically searching the water, before he saw them. The two were holding each other tight, wrapped in each-others arms. She was back to being a mermaid, her tail flicking just below the surface. When the young prince finally dragged his gaze to the boy, he was shocked. He now had a tail, longer than hers, that shimmered green and teal. The two were speaking in a language he did not understand, but from the way his hands cupped her cheeks it was a private moment. The mermaid flashed him a furious glare, before diving into the ocean.

“What just happened?” He asked.

“Dude.” Nino muttered. “I think your pet just ran away.

#mermaid Marinette #mermaid au #lukanette #one sided adrinette #please like this #my writing

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zdbztumble · 5 years ago

Text

“Jewel of the Seven Pokemon!” Chapter III

As a huge fan of both Tim Burton and Sir Christopher Lee, writing from the POV of characters who weren’t impressed with their Pokeverse equivalents was quite the challenge.

Chapter I Chapter II

FF.Net

AO3

---

The drawing room set was perfect. Everything Misty had ever imagined while reading Jewel of the Seven Pokémon was here. The dark aquamarine walls with white molding and filigree, the silver-plated gaslights, the deep crimson velvet of the chairs and sofa, a fireplace so big it could fit a Blastoise; even the prop for the professor’s custom phonograph had the Aerodactyl teeth lining two sides. And with all the light and sound equipment gone, there was hardly anything that gave away this was a set; except for one camera in the corner, it seemed so real.

It all would have looked even more beautiful under the proper lighting, of course, instead of the harsh florescent work lights, but Misty loved it all the same. The one costume left on set – the heroine’s dressing gown, with colors and patterns inspired by Milotic – was so wonderful that the only way Misty could keep herself from trying it on was to link arms with Ash and make him look at everything too.

“We’re here to help save this movie, y’know,” he muttered; apparently, the fineness and shimmer of the gown’s silk didn’t mean anything to him. “And Cilan’s doing his interviews right now.”

“I’m listening!” Misty hissed. Was it so hard to believe a girl could multi-task? “Besides, that director’s not gonna have anything useful to say anyway.”

Will Hampton wasn’t what Misty expected of a film director. He was a short, spindly man, with black curly hair, black scraggly beard, black baggy suit, black-rimmed blue shades, and a sickly pallor. A real weirdo – that’s what he was. He also didn’t same capable of forming a complete sentence.

“But you really have no idea where the Cofagrigus were brought from?” Cilan asked him.

“Nah,” said Hampton. His hands never stopped moving when he talked. “The producers…from what their…I think they…wasn’t important.”

Cilan looked stumped by that answer, and Misty couldn’t make any sense of it either. But Hampton apparently knew what he was doing with movies; Sir Bela called him his favorite director. “Knows exactly what he wants,” he’d said, and he could somehow make out what exactly that was; he was the only one nodding along.

“Hmm…” Cilan started to pace, his magnifying glass held to his chin. “And you had no signs of trouble from them until the jewel appeared on set? They weren’t hostile to direction, in other words?”

Hampton shook his head. “Nah. They were…did the thing…yeah.”

“And what about Bisharp?” Cilan asked Sir Bela. “Was there any sign he might be under a definite influence – Hypnosis, perhaps, or Psychic? Or even an indication he might have had a problem with the production?”

“No, but it’s funny you should say that,” said Sir Bela. “Because Bisharp is quite attentive to my feelings on our films. And he has heard me, many times, say about the Blasko series – well, they made far too many of them, of course. And they did not use Hunter’s lines, they did not portray Hunter’s character, and –”

“Who’s Hunter?” asked Ash.

“Saul Hunter, Ash,” Misty groaned. “The author of Blasko – The Un-dead and Jewel of the Seven Pokémon.” Honestly, why did she have to go and like such an uncultured boy? It was exasperating.

Sir Bela went on without any mind to the interruption. “I do seem to recall saying to Bisharp on the plane that having a prince’s jewel instead of a princess’s worried me, that it was a sign of another poor script from Hunter’s work. All in jest, of course. Naturally, I’d already read the script – it’s superb. Superb. And given over to one of the great directors of our age.” He swept a hand to indicate Hampton, who giggled nervously and tugged at his hair. Misty shared a skeptical look with Ash.

“And you said that to Bisharp too?” asked Cilan.

“Of course.”

“Do you remember your exact words?”

“…I do, and now that you mention it – I never did say explicitly that I was joking on the plane. And between takes on the first day of filming, I may have said ‘I’ve never seen a director like this.’ Meant as a compliment, of course, but…”

“Are we getting somewhere with this?” Iris moaned. She was hanging upside-down from an empty line set by her legs, rocking impatiently. What a kid, Misty thought. Of course, from what Ash had said about Iris, Misty guessed she was thinking the same thing. What was it that made some people their age act so much more mature than they really were? And they never realize it, either…

“I think I know where you’re going with this, Cilan,” Misty said, drawing herself up tall. “Bisharp got the wrong idea from what Sir Bela said, and thought he wasn’t happy with this movie. And that’s why he’s disappeared – he didn’t want to be in a film he thought his Trainer didn’t like!”

“You think so?” said Ash, sounding impressed.

“Pika?” concurred Pikachu, still on Misty’s shoulder.

“Osha!” Oshawott, still in Misty’s right arm, clapped approvingly and nuzzled her shoulder with his cheeks.

Cilan, however, shook his head. “That doesn’t explain what’s happened here.”

“Huh? Why not?” Misty frowned. What else could he have been driving at, with those questions?

“Elementary, my dear Misty.” It was a standard line of the Mycroft Abode character; Misty suspected Cilan had been itching for an excuse to say it. “The unusual behavior started with the Cofagrigus, not Bisharp. And any misgivings Bisharp may have had about the production shouldn’t have mattered to the other Pokémon in the cast and crew. They may have made him more susceptible to whatever’s causing this mystery, but they don’t explain it.”

“Hmm…he’s right,” said Ash. Misty tightened her grip on his arm until he winced. “Whose side are you on anyway?” she hissed.

“That wouldn’t account for the missing equipment either,” said Cilan.

“Or the missing producers,” added Sir Bela. “They left for the front office after informing us about the suspension. I expected them back by now.”

“Well, that’s…I bet they…executives…lunch meeting…all day.” Hampton shrugged.

“…Yes. Er – are there any Pokémon left at all?” Cilan asked. “If so, they could have some insight. Ash’s Pikachu could question them and report – Ash is quite gifted at divining what Pikachu means.”

“Hey – yeah!” Ash said, with a snap of his fingers. It did seem like a good idea – not that Misty was about to admit it, after hers was shot down like that.

“There are no Pokémon left that were directly involved in the production, I’m afraid,” said Sir Bela. “None that I’m aware of, anyway. But I do have two more on me – they never took to filmmaking, but they travel with Bisharp and I and know him well. They haven’t been out since we’ve arrived here, but they may know something about his state of mind.” He reached into his jacket and drew out a Dusk Ball and a Luxury Ball. The Dusk Ball went out first, flashing as it opened to reveal –

“SHEDINJA!” Pikachu and Oshawott went flying. Iris and Cilan winced at the scream. Misty sprang onto Ash’s back, wrapped her arms and legs around him, and pulled and twisted until he was a complete shield between her and that horrible buggy ghost.

“Is there something wrong?” Sir Bela asked.

“Misty’s got – ack! – problems with Bug-types,” Ash wheezed. Pikachu moaned in agreement; he and Oshawott had landed in a pile on one of the chairs. Misty was about to apologize when the Shedinja floated closer. She tightened her grip and buried her head into Ash’s shoulder instead.

“Really now,” Cilan said crossly. “There’s no time for this. We have a mystery to solve, and there’s no need to be upset by a friendly Pokémon that means us no harm and –”

POP! Misty dared a look up to see what came out of the Luxury Ball. It wasn’t another bug, thankfully; it was actually kind of cute. A feline Pokémon, with a violet and cream coat and sleepy green eyes –

“PURRLOIN!” she heard Cilan shriek, and saw the green blur of his mad dash for cover behind the sofa.

***

This movie can’t be worth it, Iris thought. She ran her hands down her face and bit back a groan as the clock made one tick closer to a full hour since they’d come into this set. The time would be easier to take if anything were actually happening, but…

The first hang-up was that this Bela Christopher guy’s Purrloin was really offended by Cilan freaking out around it, and it took forever to convince it to help out. Then Purrloin and Shedinja had to go in the corner with Ash and Pikachu, a “safe” distance from Cilan and Misty. Cilan would shout his questions across the set, Pikachu would give them to the Pokémon, they would answer, and Ash would try and figure out from Pikachu what the answers were before shouting them back to Cilan. A process that had told them nothing so far, because Shedinja and Purrloin didn’t seem to know anything about why Bisharp would disappear. Not that we need it anyway, Iris thought. My sixth sense is going off like crazy in this place, but of course the Detective Connoisseur wouldn’t trust that…

Meanwhile, Iris was stuck with creepy Christopher and his fan club. The director just sat in his chair doodling, but Misty and Cilan were gathered around Mr. Christopher as he told story after story after story. Apparently, he remembered every second of his long film career, and had no problem talking about all of it.

“…I had no idea what it was going to look like. Had no idea! And of course, the effects were very primitive in those days. We had Scorbunnies casting Flamethrower at odd angles to create the animation of the shadows…”

They just went on and on, and he never let any interruptions get in the way. And Cilan and Misty were eating it all up! Sure, Cilan gave Ash a new question every few minutes, and Misty gushed over Oshawott now and then, but for the most part, they were completely under the guy’s spell.

“…nearly severed my finger clean off. It’s still bent out – you see, here. But that was the first sword fight I had in a film. There were many, many more. I think the most difficult one was…”

It was a weird combination of boring stories and creepy storyteller. Iris liked scary movies, but a guy who was in them all the time sent out bad vibes. And those eyes…Cilan told her once that red eyes were “fetching,” but to Iris, they were nothing but bad news.

“…and he finally said to me, ‘you’re too tall to ever be an actor.’ A ridiculous thing to say to somebody. Of course, this was near the end of the war, when I was stationed in Azure Bay. I’d been seconded to the Dragon Squad as a liaison, and –”

“‘Dragon Squad?’” Iris inched closer to Mr. Christopher’s chair. “What ‘Dragon Squad?’”

It was Cilan who answered. “It’s a famous unit of the Galar Air Force, Iris. They ride Dragon-types instead of planes and serve as a special attack squadron.”

“And you…you were in that?” Iris asked Mr. Christopher. And these two were asking you about movies!?

“Well, I was an officer in the GAF. I was attached to the Dragon Squad from time to time –”

“Axew! Axew!”

“Huh? What is it, Axew?” Iris asked. Axew’s head and arms were poking out of her hair. He pointed up towards the catwalks above them. With the work lights on, it was hard to make much out, but Iris saw it too – a big, boxy shadow in an open doorway.

“What is it?” Misty asked, but Iris didn’t answer. Instead, she ran over to the fly system, shimmied up one of the ropes, jumped onto a high line rail, and swung herself up onto the catwalk. Axew gave a little cheer, and Iris gave him a little pat on the head. Now about that shadow…

Shadows seemed to be all that was up here. The work lights were all hung below the catwalks, so only a little of their light came up from below. Everything was painted or plated black. But the doorway Iris and Axew saw was filled with a dim blue glow. Inside the room, a small square closet, was light after light after light – all turned off, along with microphones and boom poles and cables.

“Hey, guys!” Iris called over her shoulder. “I found the missing film equipment! It’s all – um, Axew? Do you hear that too?” Axew nodded and slunk down into Iris’s hair. It was a faint, muffled whirring sound, hard to place. There was something mechanical to it, and it seemed to be coming from more than one spot. It’s like it’s in the walls or something. I wonder if –

The boxy shadow reappeared on the wall; a few seconds later, its source materialized. Its four arms spread wide, its red eyes lit up below the mask on its forehead, and its gold and jade body took on a horrible shine in the blue light.

“AUGH! I found a Cofagrigus too!” Iris yelled. “And I don’t think it’s friendly!” As if to confirm that, the Cofagrigus reached out with two of its hands, blue and violet flames surrounding the long fingers. From the set below, Iris heard a crash, a shout, and a menacing cry of “Cofa!”

And there’s supposed to be seven of these things…great. Battling them would be much easier with help, if only she could get away. “Axew, Dragon Rage!” Her Pokémon popped out of her hair just long enough to fire the blast, which struck the Cofagrigus right between the eyes. As soon as it reeled back, Iris dashed for the exit. She jumped over the catwalk railing, grabbed at the closest rope, and slid all the way down to the set, just in time to see Purrloin, Shedinja, and Pikachu chasing another Cofagrigus out the open side door to the stage. Ash was sprawled out on the ground with his head and shoulders on Misty’s knees, inches away from the ruins of the sofa; it looked as though it had been flung at the ground, and Misty had pulled Ash out of the way. Mr. Christopher was leaning heavily on his cane, with Cilan at his elbow for support. And the director was still doodling, as if nothing had happened at all.

“Iris, what’s going on up there?” asked Cilan.

“It’s a Cofagrigus!” Iris pointed up toward the catwalk. “There! It – it just passed through the walls! I don’t know where it’s going, but it was guarding a closet with all the film equipment that’s gone missing.”

“The one down here just jumped us,” said Ash, with a slight tremor to his voice. “There was this sound – whhhrrrr – all over, and then – boo! – and – crash!”

“So you heard that noise too.” At least it had gone; the only sound left in the room was the director’s pen scratching on paper. Strange noises before ghost attacks…strange behavior and disappearances with no explanation…yep, my sixth sense doesn’t lie about things like this. Iris put a hand to her chin. “Well, you know what I think?”

Cilan scowled. “Iris, please. This is no time for superstitious –”

“I think there’s a curse going on here!” cried Misty. She stood up so fast that she knocked Ash off to the side.

“You what!?” Cilan and Iris gasped together – Cilan in horror, Iris in delight.

“Think about it,” said Misty. “This only started when those Cofagrigus saw that authentic jewel. Jewel of the Seven Pokémon was based on real legends; maybe jewels from that ancient civilization really can hold lost souls, and the one in the jewel Sir Bela brought is possessing the Cofagrigus and the other Pokémon on the set!”

“Exactly what I was thinking!” Iris hopped over to stand side by side with Misty. “I’ve had a premonition of something like this ever since we came in here! You know –” she leaned in closer to Misty – “you might just be alright, kid.”

“Well, I’m surprised at you, Misty,” Cilan tutted. “Any supernatural occurrence has a scientific explanation, and this is no exception. Surely you recall The Houndoom of Harkershire, where the haunted moor turns out to be just a thief and his Pokémon?” He nudged Mr. Christopher with his elbow and winked at him; it must have been another of his movies.

Misty scowled and put her hands on her hips. “Well, what about The Night Train to Snowpoint, when all the clues turned out to be wrong, and it really was a ghost channeling the Froslass?” She advanced on Cilan; Iris stayed back and slapped a hand over her face. Not another one of these…

“But you recall Mark of the Golbat, where the supernatural events were a tool of the investigation to wrest a confession from the murderer?” said Cilan, not backing down.

“And Kiss of the Golbat has the vampires use a ‘rational’ explanation to fool the heroes until it’s too late! I wish you could have played the head vampire in that film, Sir Bela…”

“Bah! You’re forgetting Galar after Midnight, where –”

“ENOUGH!” Iris shouted. “No more movie talk! We have two Cofagrigus to worry about, and one of them might still be in here!”

Pikachu and Mr. Christopher’s Pokémon came back over from the door. Pikachu hopped onto Ash’s knee and gave a few chirps and gestures. “The other one went to the stage next door,” Ash reported.

“The cave sets are in that stage,” said Mr. Christopher.

“Then it looks like we need to split up,” Iris declared. It was about time someone took charge. “Half of us will stay in here to try and find that Cofagrigus, and the other half will go next door. And I’m going with Ash and Mr. Christopher.”

“What?” Cilan and Misty looked like they’d both been slapped, but they were just going to have to deal with it.

“I told you,” Iris said, “I’m done with the movie talk! And I’m sure you’re driving Ash and this poor old guy nuts.”

“Now, really!” Mr. Christopher snapped.

“I don’t care, Iris…” Ash started; Iris silenced him with a wave. She linked arms with him, then with Mr. Christopher, and marched toward the side door.

“We’ll take the cave,” she said over Cilan and Misty’s sputtering. “You two and the director check out the rest of this place.” Of course, Iris was the one who had seen the Cofagrigus in this set, but she just wanted to get out for a while. It was hard to do, though, when her companions were resisting.

“I really must protest –”

“Iris, our Pokémon!” Ash dragged his feet so that Pikachu could catch up and jump onto his shoulder, and Mr. Christopher recalled his two Pokémon. But when Ash drew out Oshawott’s ball, the Water-type shook his head frantically and waddled over to Misty, latching onto her leg as hearts lit up his eyes again.

“…Fine,” Ash sighed. “But if she needs you to battle, you’d better do it.”

“Wait, what’s that supposed to mean?” said Misty.

“You’ll find out,” Iris snapped. “Now meet us outside in an hour!” She pushed her two partners ahead and started shoving them from the back to get them to the door faster.

“Young lady,” grumbled Mr. Christopher. “I do not need shielding from fan inquiries.”

“You don’t need to be nice about it, sir,” said Iris. “It’s got to be annoying, all those silly movie questions. Now – about that Dragon Squad…”

#z's fics #pokeshipping #halloween #cilan #iris #ash ketchum #misty waterflower #pokemon: black and white #fan fiction

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vincent-frankenstein · 5 years ago

Text

To My Heart and Soul

[ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | you are here | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | read on AO3 ]

Warnings: major character death, villain/abusive deceit, blood, fighting, panic attacks, creepy imagery

Pairings: logince, hints of moxiety, a tiny smidge of remile and past abusive anxceit

They stood at the end of a long, round table, with twelve others staring back at them with varying expressions of confusion. Each place at the table was marked with a gemstone-encrusted constellation, sparkling celestial approximations set deep into the wood. Patton sat before the constellation Cygnus, his hands folded in his lap. Logan didn’t dare sit.

“Patton, I hope you have a good reason for this,” said the man at the head of the table. His place was marked with the constellation Lyra. Concern lined his kind face. Patton nodded eagerly, hair flopping up and down.

“I do!” he said.

“You’d better,” said another man. He sat before the constellation Aquila, with one leg thrown casually over the arm of his chair. He was dressed in travelling clothes, a suitcase leaned up against his chair. “I’m gonna miss my train.”

“I know, Nate,” Patton said, with an apologetic grimace. “I wouldn’t bring you guys here unless it was super important —”

“And who’s that?” said the person sitting at Ursa Major, pointing at Logan. Tufts of dark hair stuck out from beneath a bright orange beanie, framing their round face. Patton smiled, a nervous hum building in the back of his throat.

“This is, uh, Logan!” He held his arms out wide, presenting Logan with a flourish. Logan inclined his head by way of greeting. “He’s, um. He’s mortal. He has some information —”

“Mortal?” the man at Lyra gasped. “Pat, you know you’re not allowed to bring mortals here!”

“I know, Thomas!” Patton said, a bit louder than he’d intended. He winced, running a hand through his hair. “Gosh, this isn’t going how I wanted it to go, uh — okay. Logan was attacked by shadow-beasts a couple days ago, and Remy attacked him and his therapist just earlier today.”

“How does that warrant bringing a mortal to our world?” Thomas asked. “I mean, obviously it’s awful that you were attacked, but — well, you shouldn’t be here because of it.”

Logan watched Patton splutter, his eyebrows furrowing. His voice was drowned out by the others, and he was too nice to interrupt, far too nice for such a political role. He simply couldn’t break in.

But Logan wasn’t so nice. “I have information about Dorian,” he said sharply, loud enough that his voice echoed through the grand hall. The conversation jerked to a stop, and suddenly all eyes were back on him, twelve identical expressions of shock.

No, scratch that, thirteen. Patton blinked at him, eyes wide. He took a moment to recover, foot tapping nervously against the floor. “Not much,” he continued for Logan, “but enough to say that he’s still alive.”

“And Roman might be as well,” Logan said, standing as tall as he could. He did not enjoy being referred to only as a ‘mortal,’ as a problem rather than part of the solution. He was going to be a part of this, whether these high-and-mighty wizards liked it or not.

“There’s… there’s no way,” said a person sitting beside Thomas, their beautifully colored hair dimming to a soft blue. The gemstones marking their constellation — Draco, the dragon — shifted their color to match. “I saw him die, we all did.”

“C’mon, Talyn, we all knew Dorian. You couldn’t trust anything he did.” Nate shifted in his seat, throwing his other leg over the side. He had a very slow way of talking, a honeyed drawl. “Couldn’t even trust that asshole to die.”

“Shush, Nate,” Thomas said. “What information? Tell us everything, Logan.”

So he did. Starting with the graveyard and ending with Remy, Logan put every ounce of information he had on the table and could only hope to get some back in return. Out in the open air, it didn’t really seem like that much — but he couldn’t lose his nerve now. It had to be enough.

“That’s… not much to go on,” said the woman sitting at Andromeda.

“But it implies Dorian is still alive,” Patton said, standing. “And if he is…”

He trailed off. Logan hadn’t been able to get many specifics from Patton on what Dorian had done, but… obviously, it hadn’t been good. Silence fell across the table, each wizard lost in thought.

“If he is, we’re in deep shit,” someone finally said, a man sitting at the constellation Perseus. He wore a clashing kaleidoscope of magenta and black that gave Logan a headache just to look at. His statement earned several annoyed noises and a whack on the arm. “What? It’s what we’re all thinking!”

“Not all of us think as crudely as you, Henry,” said a man dressed all in black, his seat marked with the constellation Corvus.

“I do,” the person in the beanie said, raising a hand.

“We know, Joan.”

The woman at Andromeda held up her hands, glaring at her counterparts. “We don’t have time for this,” she said. “If Dorian really is out there, we have to find him. Now.”

“Valerie’s right,” Thomas said. “We barely beat him last time, and the damage he caused… We can’t let that happen again. We need to get the upper hand. Logan, do you have anything else?”

“No,” he said, wishing he did. “What about Roman? Anxiety said that Dorian was going to use me to get to him. That implies that he is still alive as well.”

“That doesn’t make sense either,” Valerie said. “We investigated his death. Everything checked out, it was just… a normal, mortal death. He didn’t survive.”

Logan gripped the back of Patton’s chair so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Nate continued where Valerie left off. “Why would Dorian use you, anyway?”

“Oh, shoot! I forgot to mention,” Patton said quickly, shooting Logan an apologetic glance. “Logan is —”

“Roman was my husband,” Logan said, voice stronger than he’d expected. A hush fell over the room, quieter, sadder than before. Everyone’s gaze turned horribly sympathetic, and Logan burned beneath their searching eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” Thomas said. “I can see why you’re so invested in this.”

Logan stood up straighter. “If there is any chance to get Roman back, however infinitesimal, I will take it. If Dorian has him, I will do whatever I can to assist you in defeating him.”

The members of the council shared a look. “We… we can’t let you do that,” said the man sitting at the constellation Delphinus. He was dressed like a ray of sunshine, shimmering golden fabrics from head to toe. “It’s far too dangerous.”

The darkly-dressed man at Corvus nodded, his face shadowed and dark. “We have to wipe your memory and send you home,” he said, and Logan jerked back as though he’d been slapped. “If we find anything, we’ll —”

“No,” Logan said, so firmly that Corvus’ mouth snapped shut. “You will do no such thing. If Dorian is planning on using me to get to Roman, my life is in danger. Wiping my memory will leave me back at square one and give him an opportunity to strike. He has already found me once. Don’t play into his hands.”

More silence. Another shared look. “He has a point,” Joan said, raising an eyebrow at Logan. “Dorian obviously knows how to find him. Letting him go probably isn’t the best idea.”

Nate groaned, drawing out the noise as he stretched lazily in his seat. “Stop using logic against us, you assholes.”

“But that’s what I’m best at,” Logan and Joan said in unison. Joan grinned at him, and Logan found himself smiling back. They seemed to be a kindred spirit; Logan liked them.

“Great, he stays!” said the person sitting at the constellation Dorado, their silver hair falling in their face. “That doesn’t solve our Dorian problem.”

“I have a lead,” said the man sitting at Corvus, leaning back in his chair. He let a moment pass, anticipation building, and then he leaned forward, relishing in the tension he caused. He quirked a brow. “A lead on Roman’s secret weapon.”

It was like he said he’d found Atlantis. The table erupted in cries of shock, confusion, and excitement, and it was a good five minutes before they’d calmed down enough to speak. Logan’s eyebrows furrowed. His secret weapon? Why did that sound so… familiar?

“Toby! How long have you had this?” Henry asked. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Calm down, H.P. I’ve only had it for a few days. I was planning to go check the credulity before this whole mess blew up.”

Logan took a step back, lost in thought, the conversation fading around him. He’d heard of this before. Something was tugging at the corner of his mind, a memory he’d forgotten, something dark and hazy and almost gone. He closed his eyes and pulled at the memory. His secret weapon…

“... Is in the dragon’s keep,” he finished out loud, his voice barely above a whisper. The memory snapped back into focus and he cursed himself for having forgotten it in the first place. A rushed conversation, late at night, one Logan had only half heard and then lost to the throes of sleep. Roman had been panicked, tense, as though he was delivering the most important information in the world.

Maybe he had been.

“What?” Toby asked.

“The secret weapon is in the dragon’s keep,” he said again, louder, stronger. Toby’s eyes widened.

“How the hell did you know that?”

“Roman told me,” Logan said, eyes wide, heart pounding. “He told me. It’s in the dragon’s keep, isn’t it?”

“Bullshit,” Nate drawled. “Princey never told anyone about his secret weapon. It’s a wonder we even know it exists.”

“He… he never even told me,” Patton said softly. He blinked, shaking his head. “But this can’t be a coincidence. If Logan’s memory matches Toby’s lead…”

“It does,” Toby said, eyes narrowed. “My lead pinpoints the weapon in a dragon’s keep at Sleepy Hollow. Patton’s right, that can’t be a coincidence. I found it.”

“That changes things,” Talyn said, their eyes sparkling. “We can beat Dorian with that. We just have to get it.”

“Right. I’ll put together a team and we can go —”

“No,” Toby cut Thomas off. “I work alone.”

“Not this time,” Logan said sharply, stepping forward. “I am coming with you.”

“Me too,” Patton said. “I have to be there. Roman was my brother.”

“And my husband. You are not leaving me behind.” He stood as tall as he could, looking down at Toby, whose face was growing steadily darker.

“I am not taking a mortal to a dragon’s keep,” he growled, eyes narrowed behind a curtain of brown hair. “You stay.”

“Actually, I think he should go,” Joan said. “If Roman trusted him enough to tell him where the weapon is, who knows what else he told him? Maybe he’ll come in handy.”

“I think so too,” Thomas said, offering Logan a smile. “Besides, I’m not gonna let you go alone. With Dorian out there again… we’ve gotta be careful.”

Toby growled and shoved himself to his feet, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Fine,” he snapped. “We leave at —”

And the hall began to shake. Logan yelped and grabbed the back of Patton’s chair as the ground rumbled beneath him, nearly sending him tumbling to the floor — yellow smoke began to seep from beneath the closed doors and in through the high windows, coalescing, gathering into a shape vaguely like a person, undulating and horrible —

And then the figure had a face, snake-slit eyes and a smile like venom. He fixed his horrible gaze on Logan and he knew, knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, who he was looking at. Dorian.

“You’re so right, Thomas,” Dorian purred, in a voice like Roman’s doused in burning poison. “You must be careful.”

#to my heart and soul #celeste's portfolio #logince #logan sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders #ts october #joan #talyn #ts nate #ts printer #ts sun #ts moon #ts deceit #deceit sanders #villain deceit #abusive deceit

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ikesenhell · 6 years ago

Text

Summoning Circle XVII

This is a continuation of Summoning Circle. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTE: Tagging @katriniac at her request.

This part of Purgatory was bitterly cold. Dark smoke pushed in around them, obscuring their path. Plumes of their breath splayed in front of them like the creeping hands of frost. Sasuke snapped a photo of it.

“It doesn’t go up,” he noted to himself, cranking the camera wheel. “Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating.”

She pushed her hand through the dense fog and watched it writhe through her fingers. How was it that the demons made their pathway appear? On a thought, she glanced down at the shimmering road beneath their feet and spied a thousand other pathways shining in all different directions. Oh. It wasn’t so simple as a single street, was it? Of course not. Where to even begin? There was no going back now, but--and the thought ran cold through her--what if they were trapped? What if she’d just lead her best friend into an unending nightmare?

“Are you alright?” He asked, rubbing her shoulders. She jolted out of her thoughts. “You looked cold.”

“I am.” Well, there was no direction but forward. Nodding resolutely at Sasuke, she pressed on with him into the mist.

Mitsuhide tried again.

Frankly, he wasn’t the most practiced at finding the correct dreams. He usually went for whatever looked the most terrifying. Finding someone specific was Mitsunari’s forte. But he didn’t want to alarm his partner, so he kept on at it.

But it was no use.

“How goes it?” Mitsunari’s cheery voice interrupted him. Hell. Well, maybe he was doing it wrong. Mitsuhide retracted his arm from the flow of unconscious thoughts, shaking his hand free of lingering tendrils.

“I’m not nearly as good at poking through this as you are.”

“Oh, can’t find it?” The silver-haired demon looked oddly perturbed. “That’s strange.”

“How so?”

“Well...” Mitsunari paused, his brows furrowing. “Hold on. Let me check myself.”

Rolling up his sleeves, Mitsunari dipped both his arms into the current and sorted through the strands, teasing them apart a bit at a time. Soon enough a pattern emerged, and from there, he filed them this way and that. “It’s just a bit odd, is all.”

“What’s odd?” A heavy weight settled in Mitsuhide’s stomach. “What’s going on?”

“Well... She’s an active dreamer.” Mitsunari frowned. “And It’s like clockwork. But for the last three or so days, I haven’t been able to find anything.”

“You either? I’ve not been able to locate her myself.”

The demons stared at each other, puzzling over the change.

“Why do I have a very bad feeling about this?” Mitsunari asked.

“Don’t know, Han Solo,” Mitsuhide answered, but his eyes were dark and moody. ��But I do, too.”

Somewhere in the deep, a creature howled.

She halted, tugging on Sasuke’s arm and motioning for silence. The pressing mist swirled tellingly, heavy footfalls padding around their location. As slowly as he could, Sasuke produced a kitchen knife and she nearly laughed. If it was one of those vampires again, what good would a bread knife do?

A moment. A hot, heavy breath huffed from the darkness.

“What are you?”

The fog recoiled as the thing transformed, a man stepping out of the shadows. No, not a man--another demon. This one had intense brows and red robes, serious eyes on a youthful face, and shorter horns curved tight back against his head. For a moment she felt safe. Then he brandished a spear at them.

“Answer me.”

Sasuke put his hands up. “We Earthlings come in peace.”

Apparently this put the demon off just enough. His posture slacked. “What?”

“We mean you no harm.”

The demon stared at Sasuke as if he were the weird one. “Of course you don’t. You’ve got a pathetic knife and I’ve got a spear. You don’t even have any horns.”

“In fairness, even if we meant harm, I don’t think we’d be any good at it.” She tried for levity, adding, “I mean, maybe we could like, chuck our single can of beans at you.”

Sasuke flushed. “I was very tired when I said that, alright? I brought more than one can.”

After a moment of silence the demon sighed, straightening up. “Alright. You two don’t have enough of an act together to be a threat. What are you and where are you from?”

“Sasuke Sarutobi, from Earth.” He extended his hand. “Me and the Princess here are on a mission.”

“A... mission. Okay.” The demon eyed Sasuke’s hand warily. “Yukimura Sanada.”

Something rang in her mind. “Yukimura? Demon of Persistence Yukimura?”

Yukimura’s eyes widened. “Where did you learn that?”

One step closer! The surge of elation burned bright in her chest, so bright that she grinned and he took a step backward.

“Okay, okay. Don’t grin like a lunatic at me. That’s creepy.”

“Hey!” Well, that dampened it, but his rudeness didn’t deflate her spirits. “I--I heard about you! I know someone who knows you! We’re looking for--”

“Ah, this proved to be less exciting than I hoped.”

A fourth person emerged from the mist. A set of mismatched eyes cut through the dark haze, the eerie blue and green a winter’s echo. On instinct, she huddled closer to Sasuke. The newest demon was beautiful--that wasn’t in contest--but something about those icy eyes was as frightening as arresting. He surveyed them and clicked his tongue.

“They don’t seem to be any kind of a threat.”

“No, my lord,” Yukimura answered, though he sounded sullen. “They’re armed with a bread knife and a can of beans.”

“I packed more than one,” Sasuke muttered again, but the demons ignored him. Instead the blonde just waved a hand.

“Lock them up. I’ll handle it later.”

What? “Wait!” She surged around Sasuke’s arm, meaning to reassure him, to protest, to explain herself, but the second she advanced on him, the man lifted a hand and the whole world dipped into soft blackness.

Four days, and no dreams.

“We should check on her,” Mitsunari worried aloud. “We really should check. What if something broke through anyway?”

Mitsuhide said nothing, just swirled a lazy hand over a small disc in his room. The other demon didn’t expect an answer. He paced a rut into the carpet.

“Do we really have no back up? We didn’t leave any contact circles there. Why didn’t we do that?”

“Because we both know we would’ve been tempted to return,” he answered with a sigh.

“We still can. She’s wearing the seal on her neck.”

“That’s true.”

Mitsunari stared at Mitsuhide, the unspoken question dangling between them. At long last, the taller man sighed, throwing the disc down. “Alright.”

“Yes?” Mitsunari brightened.

“Yes. I can’t just let something happen to her. Like hell I’ll sit around and wait for more dreams to crop up. I suppose we’ll have to chance it.” With that, Mitsuhide traced the seal in the air, drawing out the pathway to her house--

And nothing happened.

“Let me try.” Mitsunari traced it himself, making small alterations here and there, focusing intently on his work. Nothing. Lowering his glasses onto his nose, he adjusted the symbols ever so slightly. Still nothing.

“Fuck.” Mitsuhide dashed to the couch and snapped up the disc again, waving his hand over it. “Fuck.”

“This is not good.” Mitsunari traced a seal of his own in the air, opening a pathway to down the street. “Why does this one work and that one doesn’t?”

“Because the damn necklace isn’t there.” A map of Purgatory swirled into life. Mitsuhide repeated the seal over it, and--boop! It emerged on the map, sparking and disappearing once more. “It’s here.”

She woke in a cell. Well--it didn’t look like a cell. For all intents and purposes, it was a simple room. Couch, bed, small furnishings. Sasuke draped over the rug on the floor, also unconscious. Confused, she darted for the closed door and opened it, only to find her way blocked with an impenetrable wall of purple fog. In vain she thrust her body against it, only to collide with something solid.

“Fuck!” She snapped, beating her fists against it. “Let me out!”

Much to her shock, it parted. Charging forward, she just slammed against something new.

“I’ve not had a beautiful woman fling herself at me in some time. What a lovely day for me.”

She blinked rapidly, staring up from the sculpted chest and into a pair of glimmering, amused eyes. As hastily as she could manage, she backed up. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

But then he was on her again, clutching her hands and kissing them one at a time. “No, no. Pardon me. I didn’t even bother knocking. We’ve been nothing but awfully inhospitable since you arrived. Do you need water? Perhaps something to eat?”

Her mind swirled. “Um--I--okay, so--you all kidnapped me, I didn’t arrive--”

“Oh, that.” The demon--for that was what this man was, undoubtedly, with his thin, arching horns--waved that off. “I wasn’t involved in all that. My name is Shingen. I’m honored to make the acquaintance .”

“Thanks, Shingen, but seriously. What the hell is going on?”

Behind her, Sasuke roused, sitting up blearily from the carpet. Shingen cast him an amused smile. “I think we were hoping you two could explain that.”

“Well, damn, cause I could have explained that without being fucking kidnapped!” This was a terrible, no good, very bad plan. All of it, from the very start, was horribly thought out. Hadn’t she been warned? From the second she was handed the book, she’d been warned--demons will trip you up. She’d gotten lucky with Mitsunari and Mitsuhide, and now here she was--about to get herself and Sasuke killed. “What do you want with us?”

The other demon emerged in the doorway, casting a leery blue eye at Shingen. He was even more intimidating in the light. It wasn’t that he was intimidating physically, exactly. Somehow, he radiated something like agony. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing, Kenshin.” Shingen smiled mildly at his--friend? Partner? She wasn’t sure. “Simply speaking with our new associates, that’s all.”

“Your name is Kenshin?” Well, there was nothing else left to lose. She rounded on him. “Let us go!”

“And why should I do that?” All at once her willpower fled. His gaze was lightning in an snowy mountain, the whole of the skies cracking open and heaven’s judgement in one. “We’ve seen humans here before. You aren’t unique, though you are, perhaps, the least prepared ones we’ve ever encountered.”

“I brought more than one can,” Sasuke protested groggily, getting to his feet.

Ignoring that, Kenshin continued. “We will be sending you back. Whatever you thought you could garner from here--money, fame, power--it matters little to me. You will gather none of it, and you will forget all you’ve seen here.”

“Wait.” She staggered over the thought. “Wait! We didn’t come to like, gain something.”

Shingen smiled politely. “Of course you didn’t.”

“Seriously! Sasuke--” He was barely coherent, so she turned back to them, struggling in vain to convey her point. “No, seriously! I didn’t come for money or whatever. I can prove it!” Struggling through her shirt, she ripped out the necklace Mitsuhide had given her so fiercely that it destroyed the cord. “Here!”

That silenced them. Shingen reached out and took it, turning it over in his hands. “And where did you get this?”

“Mitsuhide Akechi,” she breathed desperately. “And Mitsunari Ishida. Please. I’m telling the truth.”

Kenshin’s stare turned to a sour frown. “Those two? Whatever did they give you this for?”

“To--to summon them.” Taking a deep breath, she hammered out, “But not like, for power! I summoned them for help with math, and then it turned into just hanging out, and then I--I--”

“You what?” And Kenshin didn’t sound sharp anymore. All at once she remembered what Mitsuhide had told her: Despair. It was there in all the fine lines of his beautiful, winter’s-breath features, in the turbulent tides of those ocean eyes. He wasn’t terrifying anymore. No. Now he seemed sad and fragile.

Barely whispering, she managed, “I fell in love with them. And they fell in love with me. And then things started coming through, and--and they left.”

Silence. Kenshin shut his eyes tight. Shingen just turned and appraised his partner, waiting silently for any motion.

“They were wise to leave.” That strong voice was so small now. “You only ran into harm’s way in a fruitless pursuit.”

“But it isn’t fruitless!”

“You are human. Perhaps you don’t understand that.”

“But I do.”

Kenshin tilted his head ever so slightly, eyes still shut. “No. You don’t. You are small and mortal, fragile and transient. Their very presence endangers you. If they hadn’t left, you would have died. If not now--then later.”

For a moment she wanted to ask why it sounded so personal. A single glance toward Shingen, and he shook his head imperceptibly. She tried a different approach. “Look, Kenshin. I know. I know all that. But if I weren’t willing to accept that, I wouldn’t have come here.”

“They can’t accept you dying.”

“They don’t have to.” She planted her feet. “Sasuke and I were going to seal this side so that creatures can’t barge in. We are going to change this.”

Kenshin laughed, the chill sound echoing through the room, and reopened his eyes. “Do you think no one has ever tried that?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged, feeling very lame and small. “I mean, there’ve been hundreds of thousands of years before me. But I’m not willing to give up without a fight. I... I love them. Is that so much a crime?”

For a long, long time, the two demons just stared at her. Sasuke staggered to her side, clapping a hand on her shoulder in a silent cosign. After what felt like an eternity Kenshin sighed.

“Fine.”

Her heart surged. “Yes? You’ll let us try?”

“It’s no secret that the holes between our planes are a problem.” He answered as icily as possible. “If you manage to figure out a way to solve it, then that wouldn’t be unwelcome, but you must remain here while you attempt it.”

Oh. Her mood crashed again. “But I have to--”

“Find the other two? Not if you’re going to be wheeling like drunkards around Purgatory.” Kenshin huffed, stalking toward the door. “You will rest and research here. Once we’re certain you won’t fling yourself idly into the open maws of a basilisk, I’ll consider it.”

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skywailer · 7 years ago

Note

PINK + Dramione (for the Colour Prompts) 💝

The sky is blue, carnivals are lame, and he bumps into her three times.

“The pole up your ass could use some tweaking,” his friends tease him as they tug him past the daunting starting line- under the garishly pink, screaming CARNIVAL sign and lagging behind running, racing, equally screaming children. He feels like they’re the only teens stupid enough to appear at such a ridiculous event- but his friends are just one of a few older, taller clusters sprinkled atop the shorter, more naive crowd of families. Everyone, adolescently “old” or young, seems to have never had a pole even touch the entrance to their asses.

Except one.

When he bumps into her for the first time, it’s with guns in their hands and a pink cat on the line.

He thinks his friends are idiots for playing a game where the objective is to shoot water at a tiny red dot until their fingers go numb on the trigger, while a cardboard horse gallops an endless race, all in the name of getting a fifty cent toy that no one actually ever gets. He also thinks his friends are morons for assuming this of all things will get the pole out his ass. When the girl next to him, all tight-wire curls and lazer focus, has a pole a mile long sticking out hers.

“Stupid piece of junk,” she mutters, almost saying a less pg-friendly version before remembering the kid playing next to her. She’s glaring at her water gun and shaking it, apparently incapable of making it work. Hastily, she whips it back up and aims it at the target, yanking the trigger back. The water comes out, but it’s obviously having some… Issues performing.

He grins, aims his gun, and shoots it at her target.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Comes the run-of-the-mill protest. Yet, the girl doesn’t stop shooting her own gun at the target. Her horse is getting very close to the finishing line.

A buzzer goes off, the horses do a horrible slide right back to the start, and the girl looks at him. Her eyes express as much conflict as color- brown irises reflecting shimmers of gold and yellow and even some of the harsh fluorescent lighting. They’re bold, beautiful, befitting.

“What the hell?” She asks, as an intrusive arm jerks out between them, holding a hot pink, sneering cat.

“I think you mean to say: thank you,” he corrects, trying not to smile; the cat has him a bit self-conscious about what his smile actually looks like. He hopes he never, ever looks like that freaking cat.

When the girl continues to look at him, dumbfounded, and the cat keeps grinning at him, he blabs on: “I helped you win.”

“You helped me cheat. That was cheating.”

“Can someone please take the cat,” the intrusive arm speaks. It belongs to the exasperated worker who obviously doesn’t care how the cat was won. Just that it disappears from sight. He can understand the desire.

He grins, and points the gun he still has in hand towards the cat. “Hey, game is rigged. So you rig the rigged game.”

The girl’s hair is apparently stress-triggered. It grows three finger-widths higher, frizzier. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Take the cat.”

“No. I didn’t win it.”

He fights the urge to call his friends over, to measure and compare the pain of her ass to his. Instead, he balls up that energy and makes it into a fist around the cat’s creepy head.

“Fine. I’ll take it. I won it.”

“What? No! Give it to the kid.”

“He was shooting the horse! I should give him over to the police. He’s a serial killer in the making.”

The serial killer’s mom glares at him before ushering her son away. Meanwhile, the girl’s head is practically exploding, a burst of red and pink in the cheeks. He’s enjoying the display. It gets cut off by the laughter of familiar voices- her friends.

She turns to find them, and her smile- He can’t figure out whether he’s envious of it, the cause of it, or just desperate for it to be aimed at him.

It’s gone, she’s gone, before he can figure any of it out.

He still hasn’t figured it out when he bumps into her the second time. This time, it’s on a battlefield of bumper cars- his green and hers red- and he’s grinning like an absolute idiot. That lame cat, a trophy of something he has yet to win, is placed proudly between his legs- taunting her when she finally turns around and spots him. She gapes at him, eyebrows quirked in curiosity, cheeks still bright- but soft in the changing light. Her eyes drift down to the little pink toy, and her lips twitch upwards, promising a smile just for him. It’s ridiculous, but he doesn’t hear the buzzer go off.

The goal was to bump into her, to chase her and coax a curse from those smiling lips, but somehow the whole plan goes topside. Surely she never intended it, but she’s a distraction- and he ends up looking in all the wrong places: at the ends of her curls where the LED lighting drops color and dances off the waves, to the crinkle in her nose as someone - sometimes him, sometimes not - crashes into her and makes her move. His end comes at the tip of her laugh. He crashes into the barrier, his body jolting forward against the seatbelt, his lungs and ribs crushed as he slacks back with a dizzying sigh. There’s a throbbing in his chest, and it worsens when the buzzer goes off and she’s standing over him. Grinning like a criminal.

“Are you following me?” She asks. His head lulls over to the side and glances back at the familiar, red bumper car plastered to the back of his ride.

“I should be asking that question.”

She laughs again, and this time it’s up close and personal, and the throbbing in his chest is incredibly annoying.

“I’ll take that cat now. I think I won it.”

“No,” he has the audacity to say and shakes his head. Her eyebrows shoot up, disbelieving. She hasn’t heard nothing yet. He grins. “You’ll have to trade for something.”

She rolls her eyes. The throbbing is persistent, and insistent. “What?” she plays along.

“A kiss.”

She’s walking away.

“Hey!” He calls, scrambling up from the wreckage of his bumper car. “It’s a fair trade!” The cat flails in his hand, fails at being the right trading card.

“You don’t even know my name,” she shoots back, but it doesn’t sound as offended as she means it to.

“Then tell me!”

But she’s gone.

The last time he bumps into her, it’s under the stars and an obnoxious overhang that yells COTTON CANDY at anyone foolish enough to listen. He’s foolish, but this time he’s rewarded handsomely for being a cotton candy-toting dumb-ass.

“Hey,” he says, eagerly and stupidly, every clever greeting he’d thought of in the interval between their meetings shot clear over the Ferris wheel behind them. It seems she can see them all waving as they fly off into space. She laughs.

“Hey.”

They walk together, having lost their friends to fun houses and roller-coasters, and talk about having seen each other somewhere before. School, probably, but he can tell her friends and his are from completely different circles. If they met at school, it would be fleeting and fateless. He thinks meeting here, surrounded by air-head balloons, crying kids and trashed junk food is just as crappy, but at the same time… The cotton candy smells sweet, and the night shadows play nicely with the buzzing bulbs to make a soft, dreamlike portrait of her. The girl he doesn’t know, but wants to.

“What’s your name?” He asks abruptly, and she freezes around a piece of pink cotton candy. She smiles, and it melts between her lips.

“Hermione.”

“Draco,” he replies without needing the question. He’d like to pretend she wants to know just as badly as he does. The look in her eyes, light and jumping from all the colors and promises around them… Say she might just want to know more.

He swallows. “So, Hermione,” just the sound of it has him grinning, “does your cotton candy have a flavor to it or?”

“Or is it just pink sugar?”

“Yeah.”

She presses her lips together for a moment, thinking, but there’s a curve to her lips that betrays where her thoughts might be going. “I think it’s supposed to be cherry. Yours?”

His is blue, and stuck to his tongue just like his words. He swallows again, but it’s useless. He takes a piece of cotton candy and sticks it in his mouth to buy him time to think of something witty.

“Tastes blue.”

It’s pathetic, but she laughs and he melts at the sound. The cotton candy on the other hand…

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. Tastes blue.”

“Can I try?”

She’s still mid-laugh and he nods, leans the bag of sugary air to her. But then that curve in her lips is not only visible but touchable, a full-on attack on his senses. She’s kissing him.

And she was the one who lied, because there’s no cherry on her lips, nor on the tongue that drags slow and savoring across his. It’s all just air and sugar and pink, dissolving inside him and dripping into his lungs and stomach. Making him crave more, and more, and more still.

But then she’s gone, up and walking away, and the cat he’d had on his lap is in her sneaky hands.

“Hey!” He calls out, breathless and weak. He can’t even stand up to chase after her.

“What?” She challenges, walking away even with her back to the fair and her eyes locked on his, eyebrow cocked. He wants to kiss her again, on his terms. “Fair trade.”

If that’s what it takes for another kiss, “I’ll go get another prize and we can trade again.”

She laughs, again and again, and he happily eats it up. But she’s still walking away.

“It’s blueberry, by the way.”

And with that, she’s gone, and his friends find him, tease him about the girl who “stole your pole!” Among other things.

#dramione #dhr #dhr fanfiction #dramione fanfiction #Mail

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theofficiallesbianflorona-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Ballroom Dancing

(It’s sort of a working title)

Summary: Lance McClain Can’t dance. Pidge finds a room in the castle only Lance hoped to find. Lance is extremely nervous. Keith can dance, Keith is helpful.

( I am shit at summaries, my apologies )

-------

P1:

The castle was big. Of course, there were rooms we hadn't seen yet. Did Pidge have to stumble across that room, though? When I found it I hoped I was the only one who would find it, because I knew what would come next. "Hey, Princess?" started Pidge at dinner that night. Allura, who had just taken a bite of her food, turned her attention to the green paladin with a wide-eyed look that read "Yes?" Pidge set down her fork. "I was wandering the castle today on my way to training, and I found a room… I think it was a ballroom?" I held back a groan but I couldn't hide the slight look of displeasure and terror on my face. Good thing everyone was focused on Pidge now. "Why, yes! As a diplomatic family, of course my father had a ballroom. Oh I have such fond memories of dancing with my father and friends in that ballroom when I was younger!" says Allura and my look of worry grows. Oh please don't say it… "I wish we could do it again…" Allura sighs wistfully. Quiznak. "Well," Hunk began, swallowing a bite of space food. "Maybe we could? We could invite a bunch of people from the alliances! Maybe we could even have the Balmerans come; it'd be great to see Shay again…" No no no no oh god no. "Hunk, that's a great idea!" Allura exclaimed, a new glimmer in her eyes. "I don't know. Having the doors open and a lot of guests here… That didn't work out so well last time." Saved by the Keith! Also, he makes a good point. "Yeah, what if some galra show up, or some spies get in? Lotor is sneaky." I add. "Lance agrees with Keith? This is a new age," mutters Pidge and Hunk stifle a laugh. I shoot her a look and she sticks her tongue out at me. "We could have security! Shiro and I could keep a look out for any shady figures. You know, back when I was a young Altean, I had to go through a rigorous training in order to-" As Corran begins on one of his "when-I-was-younger" stories, I begin thinking of ways to avoid the ball. See, the thing is, I can't dance. I mean, of course, I can make up some moves and such, but ballroom dancing? Nope. Never been able to. I even took classes back on Earth and I still couldn't get the hang of it. I would always step on my partners' toes. They eventually kicked me out of the class after I sprained someone else's toe by accident… My mother gave up on ballroom dancing after that. I was jolted out of my thought process when Hunk tapped my shoulder and whispered, "Do you believe this?" I jumped a bit and blinked, replying, "You're actually listening?" Hunk glared at me. "Lance, we're on a completely different subject. We're talking about songs! Now that Corran got some internet, we can look up songs even from Earth,” he whispered. My stomach did a backflip just thinking about Earth. About home. “Okay. Have we decided anything?” he whispered back. “A few… mostly classical. Bach, Mozart, that kind of stuff." I smirked. "Can we sneak in some Ke$ha" Hunk rolled his eyes. I felt a kick under the table. "Lance, no!" Pidge hisspered (that means hiss-whispered. I coined the term myself). "OW Pidge! No need for violence, you little-" "Lance?" I looked up to see Shiro looking at me quizzically. "Yyyyes?" I said cautiously. I obviously had no idea what they were talking about. "What do you think about Allura's idea to have them pay something to dance with the paladins?" he asked. "I… What?" "When I was a little kid and my father held balls here, I remember them trying to raise funds by having the guests pay a small fee to dance with the paladins! I thought we could do that again, seeing as we need funds. Actually… I don't think I can recall us ever actually paying for somethi-"

"I think it's a great idea, princess," interjected Hunk. "Me too" added Pidge. "I actually wouldn't mind that," said Keith. Well, now it'd look bad if I didn't agree. "Sure, Allura. Sounds good!" Now if I could just leave the room without drawing too much attention to silently panic in my bedroom… "Princess, shouldn't we have practices first? I'm sure many of us haven't danced in a long time, or even at all," offered Shiro. Oh, come on! That makes everything so much worse. But, maybe with enough practice, I could learn by the ball? Who am I kidding? I'm never going to be good at dancing. I've just learned to accept this. "Shiro, that's a wonderful idea! We can even use the ballroom!" And so it begins.

------

P2 it’s a double feature:

"Lance." "Lance!" "Oh my god, LANCE WAKE UP" I'm violently shaken awake by small hands grasping my shoulder and hitting my face. "Ugh... What the hell, Pidge?" Lance, you've had your beauty sleep, now you have GOT to GET UP" Pidge exclaimed, jumping up and down. "Dude, what's happening?" I say, rubbing my eyes and moving to sit up. Pidge is smiling like a dork. It's a little creepy, but that's Pidge for you. "Allura has outfits. And they look amazing." She put a space between "they", "look", and "amazing" for emphasis. I immediately perked up. "Wait, seriously?" Pidge laughed, "Why would I lie about cool clothes, Lance? OF COURSE I'M SERIOUS!" We simultaneously started squealing.

When we got to the rest of the team (except Shiro and Corran, who were meeting with the Arusians about security) Allura was already showing Hunk some suits that the previous paladins had worn for dances. Hunk was eyeing the old blue paladin's suit with designs along the collar that looked like a galaxy or magic. It was beautiful. When Allura noticed us walk in, she said hello and immediately brought over an array of outfits that would fit me. She turned to Pidge, "Would you like to wear a dress or a suit? I have plenty of both that will fit you!" I saw Pidge's eyes go wide. Nobody had ever asked her that. "Thanks, Allura! Can I look at both options?" Pidge said, maybe a bit more enthusiastically than expected. "Do you just want to look at cooler alien clothes, Pidge?" I elbowed her. "Duh, Lance. Duh," she replied as she followed Allura to another corner of her enormous princess closet. I snickered as I looked through the suits Allura had given me. They were all stunning, made with a fabric like a mix of silk and cotton, but definitely nothing I'd ever felt before. There was one with shimmering holo, another with a holo-like substance, but it was truly a moving rainbow. There was another with moving stitches, depicting a battle between Voltron and a large alien beast. At the end, when Voltron was victorious, it moved and started over again. My eyes finally fell on a shimmery sky blue suit, accented with fabric that looked exactly like the ocean's surface, and moved like it too. I immediately took it and tried it on. It fit perfectly. I totally didn’t squeal and jump up and down for a solid 10 seconds…

After everyone had picked out their outfits, we all gathered in Allura's bedroom in our outfits. We all looked around. I felt so high-class like I should be holding a champagne glass or something!

Hunk had chosen a sparkly yellow suit that shimmered in the light, a perfect golden, paired with a shiny black tie. The top looked like it was made directly from the sun. He looked great. Pidge ended up going with a dress after all. She had an off-shoulder dark green dress with those little sleeves. It puffed out at the waist and flowed down, with a small train in the back. The design of beautiful alien plants looked so real, for a bit, I thought they were growing out of the bottom of the dress. She looked so happy in it, and she looked amazing. Allura had a tight light pink dress with blue accents that shimmered when she walked. She also had a tiara with jewels hanging down and into her hair, which was up, but cascading down in the sides. She looked gorgeous. Keith had a dark red suit, with accents that looked like red fire in the evening, so real I expected smoke to come off it. He had a black flower that looked like it should turn to dust, but in a good way, you know? He looked nervous in front of everyone. I kind of wanted to assure him that he didn't need to be worried… I mean, he looked crazy good. Definitely better than me. Probably the best in the room, though I hated to admit it. Maybe this ball wouldn't be that bad… Allura clapped her hands and broke the silence. "Well, you all look wonderful! I'm so glad you like the outfits, too. I had been hoping to reuse them someday," she smiled and said. "Yeah, thanks Allura! These are so cool," Hunk replied. "Dude, I love this so much," Pidge agreed, sitting on Allura's bed and playing with the ends of her dress. Allura laughed. "Well, you all should probably hang those up in your own rooms now. Wash up and rest up! Tomorrow we start dancing!" I was so hyped up with my new suit, I didn't even mind the impending doom that loomed over me in the form of dance lessons as I showered and put on my nightly Altean face mask.

Well, I didn't think about it until it was the middle of the night and I woke up in a cold sweat from a nightmare I couldn't remember. My feet felt sore. It hit me what was going to happen tomorrow and a million "what if?"s ran through my mind at a million miles per hour. What if I fell? What if the fall sprained my ankle? At least then I could embarrass myself further. But what if they made me dance anyway? What if I was so bad none of us raised money at the ball? Would Voltron die? Would Haggar and her evil druids make the galra reign over the universe once more while we were still stranded in space with no way to get home? I couldn't get back to sleep with all these horrible ideas in my head. So I went out, rubbing my eyes, not sure where I was heading. My feet took me to the kitchen. I figured a midnight (do Alteans have midnight?) snack might clear my head. As the door slid open (man I love these automatic doors in the castle) I heard movement in the kitchen. I jumped slightly, only to realize it was only Keith. "Hey, man. Couldn't sleep either?" I asked. "I guess... I'm just not that tired. What about you?" "Oh.… I.. Uh…" Did I want to tell him I had a slight panic attack about how I can't dance and now I can't get back to sleep? "Let me guess: You're nervous. Honestly, so am I. I don't think I'm a great dancer. I'm also not the most popular paladin, so at least not a lot of people will want to dance with me." "I'd want to dance with you!" I blurted, immediately regretting it. I don't like seeing my friends upset, especially when I'm already upset. Sometimes I just say whatever I think they'd want to hear without thinking about it first. Not that I wouldn't want to dance with him though, I'd just make a huge fool of myself. "Um, thanks, Lance. That's… really nice of you. Maybe I'll take you up on that offer" Alright not what I was expecting but… wait… is he… blushing? It's not much, but I'm pretty sure he is. Oh god. Now I'm blushing too. This is awkward. I'll say anything to break this silence. A small part of my head says "tell him that why you're really here". Okay, anything but that. "So, uh, what brings you to the kitchen?" I ask. Smooth, Lance. Great conversation starter. "Midnight snack. Maybe it'll help me sleep. You?" "Same thing… Hey," I begin. "You said you didn't think you were a great dancer? But you can dance, yeah?" "Yeah? I mean I guess I can. I took lessons and I didn't fall on my face, so I suppose I was good." I fell on my face. A lot. I feel my face get warm with embarrassment. "Why?" Keith asked. "Well, ugh, this is weird to say, but I can't. Dance, I mean. It's super embarrassing. I tried taking lessons and stuff, but I was never any good," I found myself pouring out all the crap I didn’t want to think about. It felt good. "Every time I would try, I would step on someone else's toes, or trip them, or trip myself, or mess up in any way possible dancing. Eventually, my mom took me out of dance. I'm still sad about it because I did really like it. Music is awesome and I just wish I could move to it well. That sounds stupid, I know, but it didn't sound as stupid when I was lying awake in bed, sweating, because I was scared my bad dancing would scare away anyone from donating to Voltron at all, then Voltron would fall and we wouldn't be able to stand up to the galra and they would regain control over the universe and we would all be enslaved to them and all of would be stranded slaves in space with no way of getting back home." I finished, tears breaking through my eyes and slowly rolling down my cheeks. "Oh, Lance…" Keith sighed, setting his cup down on the counter and opening his arms for a hug. His expression looks so genuinely concerned, which only made me feel worse. Though, if he looked mad or happy I'd still feel worse. Nevertheless, the tears started coming faster, and I leaned forward while Keith stepped towards me and wrapped me in a bear hug I didn't think possible for someone of his size. I sniffed and Keith gently let me step back. "I've never told anyone all that…" Keith smiled warmly. "I'm glad you told me. If you wanted, I could teach you how to dance?" he offered. I looked up. No one ever asked me to dance, even if it was just lessons. "I told you, I took lessons before. I'd probably end up getting your wrist sprained…" I answered. "You got someone's wrist sprained?" Keith asked incredulously. I winced. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to- Maybe it'll be easier to learn one-on-one? And with someone you already know?" Keith offered. "I… I don't know. Maybe. I think I'll tell the group tomorrow, though. It'll be easier now that I've already told you," I sighed. "I'm going to try to go back to sleep. 'Night, Keith." "'Night, Lance. Hope you get to sleep."

It took me a little while to actually fall asleep, but at least the anxiety had calmed down, more or less. I prepped myself for tomorrow. I was (not) ready.

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eledritch · 7 years ago

Note

Since you mentioned that Altea Creek slowly becomes a ghost town in one ask, which buildings are still standing for tourists and ghost hunters to snoop around in? Are there any urban legends like how people can hear the sounds of horses racing in the night, how a woman with white hair appears in the windows of the old brothel, or how people who get lost in the desert find a shack surrounded by corn stalks to stay in for the night, only to wake up in the old sherrif's office come morning?

ok fine i admit it i love the btsats universe...please send me more fun prompts for it!

ARIZONA; AUGUST 13th, 2017

She’s heard the tales they tell about this place.

She never put any stock in them, of course - at nineteen, she’s way too old to believe in old wives’ tales anymore. Her grandma Dolores, who married some cowboy up in Page after her grandpa died five years ago, always has some new yarn to spin at family reunions in Sedona. She thinks the sun is probably getting to Dolores’s husband’s head when he tells her about the huge wildcat prowling the outer reaches of his ranch at sunrise, followed by a young man on a red horse. Makes no damn sense, and that’s not even the craziest of it.

They say this town is haunted by a woman with long white hair and piercing blue eyes, by a herd of phantom mustangs no one can ever catch but a few swear they’ve seen, by a huge creature with horns and yellow eyes, and, perhaps strangest of all if only because of its comparative normalcy, by a lean boy with shaggy black hair, or sometimes white hair; no one can seem to agree.

Altea Creek, the town was called, or at least that’s what the faded wooden sign says. It’s not even big enough to warrant an actual road sign, one of those green highway signs with blocky white letters, and that makes her real nervous. It means this place is really and truly in the middle of nowhere, and therefore she is in the middle of nowhere, and it’s in the middle of desert nowhere, which makes it even worse. At least when people go missing in forests and mountains and swamps and things, people go looking for them. But she’s never heard of people braving the Sonoran to find a teenage girl who was left behind at a midnight bonfire that was supposed to be fun.

It was fun, she thinks sullenly, at least until she’d woken up hungover to the rising sun and all her so-called friends gone. Serves her right, for thinking Arizona State frat bros and sorority girls would actually look out for a scrawny NAU freshman. Then again, her NAU sisters had been there, too...ugh. Sororities are dumb, anyway. Sisters definitely aren’t supposed to accidentally leave each other passed out in the stupid cave Josh Whats-His-Face had declared was, Like, Totally The Perfect Hookup Place, C’mon, It’ll Be Sooooo Fun Oh My God Lighten Up, Will You?

“Fuck you, Josh,” she says to a passing tumbleweed, and then feels bad, because tumbleweeds are really pathetic-looking as it is; they don’t need her harsh words, too.

She stops walking. She really doesn’t want to go into that creepy little ghost town. But she also doesn’t want to get heat stroke and die. Ghosts, or horrible agonizing death? Tough choice.

Dolores and her husband have so many weird stories about this area, though. It doesn’t just stop at wildcats. Apparently random cornstalks just...grow out here, sometimes. And, well, she doesn’t know much about corn, but she does know that it’s dry as shit out here, and not much more ever grows except cacti and weird stunted trees. So corn seems pretty unlikely. But Dolores swears there’s corn. And also, rabbits. Like, tons of rabbits. Rabbits with glowing eyes. Who look at you like they know you.

Grandma Dolores is clearly off her rocker.

She resolutely does not think about the darker stories - the stories of mangled bodies showing up beside the highway, and sure, maybe they had all been probable child molesters with a plethora of witnesses testifying against them, but she still doesn’t love the idea of a violent vigilante roaming the desert with intent to kill.

Nervously, she tugs her shirt closer, not that it does much good - it’s August, and she’s only got her short shorts and a faded Stranger Things tanktop. She can feel her shoulders getting crispy already. How long has she been wandering out here? A hour, two? The sun looks way higher in the sky than it was before. Yet the town seems no closer...it shimmers in the distance, just out of reach. Mirage, she thinks, hazily. But she was so sure it was right in front of her...

She wracks her brain for what to do. Her dad gave her a bunch of weird survival books, back in the day, despite the fact that they lived in the middle of Phoenix and she wasn’t exactly in danger of getting lost in the desert. But oh, how the tables have turned.

Prickly pears...she thinks they have water in them, or maybe that’s barrel cacti. Or maybe she’s completely fucked. All she knows is that her throat has never been this dry, and her lips are so chapped they’re bleeding when she bites at them, and she’s suddenly terrified. She doesn’t want to die out here, all alone where no one will ever find her. She feels tears prickle at her eyes and blinks them back hastily - she has to conserve water, she can’t cry, even if it’s saltwater, how the hell does that work, anyway -

There’s a black cat standing in front of her.

She blinks down at it stupidly. “Hi,” she croaks. The cat is fluffy, with a white splotch on its head and a ouchie looking scar over its muzzle. It’s missing its front right paw, and she scrunches up her face in sympathy. “Guess you’re having a rough time out here too, huh?”

The cat meows and winds around her ankles, rubbing its head against her bare calf and staring up with wide grayish eyes. She smiles tiredly and kneels down to pet it, and as she kneels she’s struck with the awful realization that now she and this cat are going to die out here, and she can’t even do anything to help!

She bursts into tears and the cat looks distinctly alarmed as she hiccups out between sobs, “I’m so - I’m so sorry, kitty, you’re...you should go run off somewhere else, ‘kay, find someone with water who can take care of you ‘cause I, I can’t, I can’t watch you die, too -!”

She’s falling onto the ground; her head is swimming and she’s feverish, shaking as a firm hand presses to her brow and a shadow falls over her. The cat paws gently at her cheek and gives her sweaty, clammy skin a soft lick. “Heat exhaustion,” a woman’s voice says, floating through the air like a blessedly cool breeze. “She’s very dehydrated; another two hours and she’d be gone.”

Another voice, this one deeper, male; she feels it as if from the earth. “Hmph. City girl, huh?”

She doesn’t understand when a third, even deeper voice joins them, this one coming from the cat, which is staring sternly upward at the man she can’t see. “Keith, don’t be rude, she got lost and panicked. She’s young and afraid; can’t be much older than you were.”

The second voice makes a thoughtful sound. “I know. But look, she’s burnt bad. Allura, you still have that aloe?”

“Of course.” The cool hand on her brow sweeps back her hair; the woman’s touch is comforting, like a lullaby; it reminds her terribly of her mother. “Come now, let’s get her inside.”

She has no strength left in her body when they lift her up - the woman is carrying her, and when she looks up blearily she sees long white hair and piercing blue eyes, though there is no malice in the woman’s steady gaze. The cat is curled up warm and soft atop her chest, in her limply folded arms, and purrs when she pets it clumsily. “Good kitty,” she mumbles, and the second voice, Keith, chuckles.

“Fishing for compliments, I see,” Keith says.

“She likes cats,” the cat replies primly. “And I like being petted. It all works out nicely.”

She passes out.

When she awakes, she is in an unfamiliar little house, in a cozy bed, and there is a lean boy with shaggy black hair polishing a knife at the kitchen table. She sits up, confused, and he turns to look at her, calm and quizzical.

“Hello,” he says. “Sleep well?”

“Where am I?” she says.

“Safe,” he says, and for some reason, she absolutely believes him.

He puts down the knife. It is a strange knife, she thinks, shiny and black. Obsidian? “I like your knife,” she blurts, and flushes when he shoots her a small, lopsided smile.

“Thank you,” he says. “It was a gift.” He tilts his head. “What do you remember?”

She tells him about her friends leaving her. He frowns, and tells her to get new friends. She agrees. She cannot stop looking at him. There is something...other, about this boy. He is serene, radiant in a way she cannot quite describe, and she has never felt so at peace in her life.

Then she says, “And there was a cat.” She furrows her brow. “At least, I think there was a cat...”

“Oh, yes,” the boy says, and nods to the fluffy black heap at the end of the bed. The cat is sleeping soundly, and rolls happily onto its back when she reaches out and scratches its little chin. The boy grins, oddly amused by the exchange. “He likes you.”

“What’s his name?” she asks, enchanted. The cat sneezes and blinks sleepily up at her.

The boy hesitates, then says, “Shiro. His name is Shiro.”

“Shirooo,” she coos, and is disappointed when the cat butts its head against her palm once before hopping off the bed, padding off into the house and around the corner. “Oh. There he goes.”

“You ought to go, too,” the boy says, standing up and offering her a hand. She takes it; his hand is warm and calloused, with a faint white scar across his palm as he lets go. “I’ll take you back home.”

“Home?” she says, and shakes her head. “I don’t live around here.”

“But you live in this desert, don’t you?” he asks. She nods slowly, and he smiles. “It’s our desert,” he tells her, quietly, like a secret. “We can take you home.”

“Do you need an address?” she asks, although deep down she knows he doesn’t.

Sure enough, he shakes his head, and touches her face, carefully, the barest brush of fingertips.

“Goodbye, Katie,” he says, and in the blink of an eye the boy is gone, and she is standing in her childhood bedroom, breathless and believing.

“Goodbye,” she whispers, but she knows they will never really leave.

#ask me things #btsats #sheith #ficlet #voltron #THIS WAS SO FUN AND I HAD TO #Anonymous

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danie-dreams · 7 years ago

Text

Redux

I am sixteen years old. It’s my first day of school - though the school year started a month or two ago for everyone else here - at the American School of Kuwait.

The location is not what bothers me. The thing that makes today incredibly weird, is that yesterday I was thirty-eight and working for a living making tiny things.

There’s an old hypothetical question, “If you could go back to any time in your life, would you?”

I’ve always answered that question with a ‘no’ to be honest. There’d be so many cruddy things I’d have to go through again, and I’m sure that if I tried to change things I’d miss out on all the really good things I’ve had.

But apparently the choice has been taken from me. Of all the things I wouldn’t mind doing, high school would have been far, far down the list. Here I am, all the same.

The bus ride is over though; that would have been fun. At least, I remember it, unlike the details of my first day. Hareef picked me up by driving the wrong way down a divided highway, and then trundled off through the desert on paths that might have resembled high tech roads a couple thousand years ago. It was hilarious and startling.

From what I recall, I was really depressed and introverted the whole time I was here last; spending my recess/lunch times reading and rereading some favorite books (there had only been so much weight allowance for books after all). I kind of made some friends, but the only one I still talk to, the one I was the maid of honor for and still see once a year, won’t show up for a month or two.

My class schedule is weird. It’s a six day rotation kind of thing, so no two days in a row are the same, and no two weeks in a row are the same. Today is a “B” day. And since weekends in Kuwait are Thursday and Friday, today happens to be Saturday.

More than anything, I feel irritation. Seriously: I didn’t ask for this. There were no weird fortune teller machines, magic lamps, creepy old ladies in alleys, nothing. I just woke up standing here in the plaza, looking at the paint-chipping white and blue buildings and holding a too-full backpack.

I roll my eyes. The school has lockers, but I remember that I carried all of my crap around with me until a month or three in, when I finally got assigned one of them. It was weird starting a school year later than everyone else around me.

I don’t have time for this crap. I go to the office and ask about a locker. I’m sure that that rib that likes to pop out of joint when I’m older is from all that time I spent carrying around a backpack full of books for a couple of years. At least I’ll be doing future-me a favor. They’re out of junior lockers, so I get one in the row with the seniors, at the end of the third floor. I think it’s the same one I remember having, so if the world’s going to explode in a paradox, it probably won’t be from that.

School here starts with a homeroom class that lasts fifteen minutes or so before we go off to our first classes. Mine is with the drama teacher - an american woman who is a lot of fun and has long ginger hair like my friend Jennifer (seriously, if I’m stuck here, at least I’ll get to hang out with her again - maybe it’ll give me a chance to be a better friend). Rats: if I’d just gotten here a couple weeks earlier, I could have signed up for drama class. If you want to be an animator, you should totally take some acting classes. Something I wish someone had told me when I was younger.

Oh well. Maybe I can try out for a play this time.

I have a lot of trouble finding my first class. It’s the first indication something is wrong.

I don’t remember having trouble finding my first class.

Granted, I don’t remember much of my first day. But this seems wrong somehow.

I show up extremely late, but it’s one of my two favorite teachers. I remember how I hung out in her classroom during lunches periodically, talking books and art, and when Jennifer showed up it was the three of us. She goes with it, and I know what she’s teaching (Beowulf), so it goes fine.

But my backpack has a pile of crap in it that I don’t recognize.

I pull out a messy notebook full of doodles and pages hanging out. I don’t recognize any of these drawings, and there are pages and pages of them. The handwriting is mine, but the linework doesn’t resemble anything I’ve ever done. Many are better than anything I’ve ever done.

I don’t know why it hasn’t occurred to me until now that this is probably a dream. I mean, it doesn’t feel like one, but don’t dreams feel real when you’re in them?

I pinch myself. It hurts. I sigh. Nothing for it but to ride it out, I suppose.

In the pile of crap in my backpack, I seem to have lost my class schedule. I have no idea where to go next, and while I can remember many of the classrooms I spent time in at this school, it’s a vague guess at best where to go next.

The throng of people around me breaks around a teacher like a river around a rock, and the teacher grabs me as I try to pass. He yells at me for leaving this mess on the floor and demands I clean it up

The mess on the floor is a pile of garbage; paper with doodles on it that look like what I found in my bag and some kind of liquid substance that looks suspicious.

“I’m not cleaning that up. Are you serious? That smells like pee, which is a biohazard; there’s no way I’m touching that.”

The teacher glares at me. “You’re going to do it because I said so.”

Since I have the experience in my head at least of growing up and realizing that adults are just as fallible as I am, and I don’t necessarily have to do what they say when they’re being completely unreasonable I tell him no and walk off, and try to find my next class.

The day goes more and more wrong, in a way that suggests more that it’s a dream and I begin to wonder when I’m going to wake up. I don’t have any of the work done for one of my classes (it’s my art class, and instead of being the incredibly cool teacher I remember, she treats me like my Oceanography teacher did, which was horrible).

At the end of the day I magically miss both of the buses home, though each of them leave an hour apart and it feels as if no time has passed.

“Okay, okay, I get it!” I shout to the sky. “It’s a dream. I’m not in school any more, I don’t live in Kuwait, and I like my life the way it is, thanks, so can I wake up already?”

Instead of answering, my coworker from the future shows up. “But we’ve missed the buses; how are we going to get home?” he asks.

I quickly do the math. He would have been six when I was sixteen; there’s no way he’d appear the same age as me at this point in my life.

“What are you talking about,” he asks, “are you insane?”

“No. I’m not insane. This is some crazy dream where I go back to my school days and everything goes wrong. I’m just surprised I didn’t end up missing my clothes all of a sudden.” I roll my eyes.

He backs away, looking askance at me. “Do you WANT to end up without your clothes..?” He seems half serious.

“What?” I back away. “No! God no. Ew. Geez. We are not that kind of friends.”

He looks confused a moment. “We’re not?”

“Oh. My. Lord. No. We are not,” I say. “Who are you, because you’re not who you’re pretending to be.”

His look of confusion remains a beat and then he straightens. “Oh fine.”

My coworker’s facade shimmers and a creature stands before me. It looks vaguely humanoid, but not like anything I’ve ever seen before. “This is one of the weirder dreams I’ve had,” I say to it, unfazed.

“Hmm. Yes,” it says, regarding me. “It is. I wonder why it didn’t work this time.”

The question seems rhetorical. “Because I just watched an episode of the X-Files and this is so ridiculous it can’t be real, maybe.”

I’m not impressed. This is by far the weirdest dream I’ve had, and I’ve had some pretty memorable ones before. Aliens aren’t really new, but I wait to see if it has anything else interesting to say.

There’s a pause. I think it’s annoyed at me for answering but I can’t tell. It stares at me for a few moments longer while I wait, eyes half lidded and waiting to wake up.

It makes a few comments into what appears to be a recorder that I can’t quite hear, then takes out another device that looks like a stapler and approaches me. Before I can react with the jujitsu skills I’ve gained since I was sixteen it grabs my left arm and applies the device to my forearm. A burning sensation radiates out from where it hits me and searing pain, many times worse than the pinch I gave myself makes my eyes tear and I try to pull away. The alien’s grip is vice-like though, and I can’t pull free.

He let’s go and makes another note. “Well there you go. You’re out.”

I’m crying, and there is a two inch seal burned into the skin of my forearm. “What the hell, man, that’s not cool!” I shout, or something like it.

“Subject is no longer viable as a test subject. Removal from study pool is now complete.” It turns its face to me. My vision goes white as it continues speaking to me.

I wake up later, in my bed, in my house, with my kitten standing on my bladder as I’ve become used to having in my life so far, well past my sixteenth year.

That dream was the weirdest ever. I reach over to absently rub the cat scratch on my left forearm before actually getting a look at it.

Burned into the surface, and half healed, is a seal; a design I don’t really recognize but definitely isn’t a cat scratch, and the alien’s last words come back to me. “Dream study complete.”

————

@whiskeyandwashitape @artofstevetownsley

#short story #dreams #time travel #aliens

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ohmababypoe · 7 years ago

Text

Reverie

Words: 1265

Request: No

Pairing: Poe x Reader

It was a cold, foggy morning on the small central base of the Resistance. Even though it was very early, the base was busy. X-Wings started to land on the small parcel of land, pilots with the distinctive orange uniform of the rebels descended from the spaceships. “Recruits?” Poe Dameron, the best pilot of the galaxy asked as he stood beside the general, the woman in command look at him and with a smile on her face General Organa responded:

“That’s the silver squadron,” A single figure started to appear from the dense fog of the early morning, a woman from the distinctive curve of her hips and the soft sounds of her boots against the pavement. As the figure started to get closer, Poe could distinguish the distinctive features of the female; Y/H hair and Y/E eyes. “Commander—”

“Y/N”

Y/N looked at the man behind General Organa, Poe looked at the woman before him, he scratched the back of his neck; what could he said. It had been years since he had seen her. Y/N looked down the floor and smiled, as she looked at him her smiled diminished. Meanwhile, General Organa smiled looking between them; with a nod, she took a step back and left them alone on a cold morning.

Poe could still remember that day he had seen her, it was at the recruitment facility on Yavin 3. Another boring lunch, but there she was laughing as her friends make dramatic gestures with their hands. He groaned as Snap hit him in the ribs with his elbow. “Stop staring, it’s creepy”

“She is beautiful, why can I say?” Poe said as he took a sip of the soup but quickly regret it as the tasteless soup touched his tongue. “This thing is disgusting” Poe rolled his eyes as Snap happily poured all the soup in his mouth.

Y/N looked down at the horrible soup in front of her. “Is not that bad?” Jessika said with a smile taking a spoonful of the weird concoction. Y/N simply looked down at the other edible things on the plastic tray. Nothing seemed appetizing.

“The red puree is good” Y/N looked up from the blue plastic and saw a young man with curly brown hair smiling at her. She raised an eyebrow, “I am Dameron, Poe Dameron” his hand was extended towards her, Y/N bit her lip and rolled her eyes as Jessika squealed beside her.

“It’s really good!”

Y/N shook her head and took Poe’s hands in hers. “L/N, L/N Y/N”

Poe chuckled at the memory, he took a deep breath. “How are you?”

Y/N bit her lip, why this felt like the first time they met? “Fine and how are you?”

Y/N still remember the days back then… the way Poe waved at her across the hall just to get her attention. “YOU GOT THIS Y/N; I BELIEVE IN YOU” she merely rolled her eyes and laughed, “GO Y/N” a red tint appeared on her cheeks as the other cadets looked at her with judgment written on their faces. She just nodded and looked down at the floor walking into the small laboratory.

The days on the old cafeteria where they met, she still hated that weird concoction, but somehow Poe made it taste better. He put rice and some weird looking plants and feed it to her. “What’s on it?” Y/N had dared to asked one day; Poe smirked at her and signaled to get her closer.

“It’s a secret,” Poe whispered loud enough for her, but not for the other people around them to hear.

“Poe,” She said with a cute pout and Poe pinched her cheeks, “Poe!” she scowled rubbing her throbbing cheeks. Poe bent down to her ear like he was about to tell her a secret, he folded his hands, Y/N could feel his hot breath on her ear tickling it; she giggled.

“I LOVE YOU!” Poe shouted at her ear

How he softly kicked her leg as she fell asleep in one of the many lessons imparted on the small improvised rooms. Y/N laughed and continue to listen to the creature in front of them talking about, what was it— ah yes the ventrical cannon of the mother ships that the old Empire used before.

As the last light of the room was turned off, Poe stood up and Y/N put a hand on his arm. Poe sat down and looked at Y/N. “Is there something wrong?” Y/N shook her head and stood up from her seat.

“I got something for you” Y/N said with a smile walking at the back of the small room. Removing the small cover, “Tada” a double spherical droid beeped and rolled its head to look at Y/N than at Poe. “BB-8 meet Poe, Poe this is BB-8”

“You didn’t have to,” Poe said looking at the white and orange droid.

“I made it for you,” Poe took her head in his hands and softly kissed her.

“And I got something for you,” He said taking a black box from his pants, “It was my mother’s” Poe declared opening the box, inside was a small and simple titanium band. “My dad gave it to her”

Y/N shook her head and looked at the ground, “I am fine,” Poe responded nodding his head.

Poe cleared his throat trying to come with something to say that sounded smart. “What brings you here?”

Poe bit his lip; he remembered that day at the library…

“Come on I need an archive, a blueprint of this droid” Y/N said tugging Poe’s hand. His head hit the tall, metallic structure as Y/N pushed him against it.

“Are you trying to kidnap me?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and pulled him by the collar of his uniform, a smile formed on his face as Y/N kissed him. “I love you, Poe”

Poe looked through the small spaces between the archives, he frowned not founding Y/N. Jessika told her she had seen Y/N around here, with frustration ran a hand through his hair. “And just—”

Poe, as he rounded the corner, saw Y/N with a guy, he turned around and walked out of the old archive room.

“Wait, Poe! What’s wrong?”

Poe stopped in his tracks and scoffed. “What’s wrong?” he laughed and with incredulity looked at her. “Nothing, everything is fine. Dandy, actually” he said sarcastically.

“Poe, he just asked me a question” Y/N alleged, “Why are you so mad?”

Poe bit his lip and took her hand, “Where is the ring?”

“I repair droids, Poe. I can’t work with—”

Poe merely walked away and like that the days passed, he passed her by the hallways and ignored her. Y/N looked at his retreating back with sad eyes.

Y/N took a deep breath and remembered the last day he had seen him, Poe’s head was on another girl’s lap as she softly ran down her hands through his dark curls, he moved his head to look at Y/N and smirked turning around to look at the girl.

“I am a pilot now”

Poe looked up and his eyes widen, “Droid reverse engineering was not my thing” Y/N smiled at Poe. “He was one of a kind,” she said looking at BB-8 quickly approaching them. Something shimmered on her neck, looking closely it was the ring Poe had given to her.

“Y/N, I—”

“Love, the General is looking for us”

Poe looked at the guy walking towards them, “Who is this?” the man asked

“Poe Dameron, this is my husband. Love, this is Poe Dameron an old friend”

#Poe Dameron #Poe #Poe Dameron Imagines #Poe Dameron Imagine #Poe Dameron x Reader #Poe Dameron Fanfiction #Poe Dameron One Shot #Poe Dameron OneShot #Poe Imagine #Poe Imagines #Poe Fanfiction #Poe One Shot #Poe OneShot #Star Wars Imagine #Star Wars x Reader #Star Wars Imagines #Star Wars OneShot #Star Wars Fanfiction #Star Wars One Shot

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j-e-green-blog · 8 years ago

Text

The Demon Inheritance (2)

(This is my original story, The Demon Inheritance, second chapter... The first one if on my blog thing. :3 Please like and comment) and reblog)

Saturday morning began at 4 a.m, when the dark rainbow of blurred colors clouded the rising sun. The flushed hues of pink, violet, gray, and blue wrinkled in the sky, and the last few remaining stars, fractions of a vanishing constellation, winked at me from above. I barely remembered waking up; I’d just found myself looking outside, bedroom window down, wrapping my bed sheets around my body. I was gowned in a thin fabric, so a chill still made its way to my skin where my sheets couldn’t cover. By my window was my mother’s garden, where she had successfully grown arrays of plants: an apple tree, avocados, lettuce, tomatoes, strawberries, broccoli… Beyond my mother’s garden was our driveway, and beside that, a thin creek that barely trickled sideways through our yard before gradually opening up to, what was houses away, a river. A web of roads disturbed the beauty of nature. I inhaled the scent of the night, and, as always, the fading night smelled like mist, air, and freedom. It was the greatest kind of scent. I squeezed purple earbuds into my ears, turned my mp3 on, and heard Metallica begin to play in my ears. The song was “Nothing Else Matters”, which had its own special place in my heart. The melody, the power… It all struck an emotional patch inside of me. How could it not? It was the best band ever, anyways. I think Metallica was the only band I had on my mp3 player. Hours passed, and I lost reality in the music. Before long, golden threads of fresh sunlight shimmered across the plants in the garden, and liquid gold flowed in the miniature creek, parted only by rocks. The blurred rainbow faded away, and the scents of daytime replaced the flawless ones of night. Into my nostrils flowed heat, water, and spring. Not too much time passed after I realized the sun was completely in view and levitating on the horizon, the smell of eggs tickled my nose. I paused my music, took the earbuds out, and tracked the sizzling sound of breakfast back to the kitchen. Mom was hunched over the stove, cracking eggs on the counter and plopping them into her favorite pan. Bacon was beginning to heat up beside them, and some biscuits were in the oven. I usually made breakfast for the family, but that wasn’t why I was concerned. With the amount of food she was making, she must have been ready to feed several families. Pancake batter was sitting to the side, and waffles were being toasted. “Hey, Mom,” I greeted from the doorway to the kitchen. “What’s with all the food?" My mother turned to smile at me. A lot of people said we looked alike, but my mother, I felt, was a lot more beautiful than me. When she wasn't being butchered in my sleep, that was. Our hair was similar with our stubborn, blond curls. However, my mother’s silken hair was cut short and it was peppered with brown instead of being pure blonde. Mine was crisp and golden. To top that, her eyes were a delicate shade of green, and mine were pure black orbs in a soggy ocean of white. Our body shapes were similar, but I had smaller breasts and waist, which I was actually thankful for. “You don’t want to eat this morning, Em?” Amusement flicked into her seaweed eyes. “Yeah, but there’s so much food here…” I walked over to a metal chair sitting beside the refrigerator and took a seat. “Is something special happening today? You trying to feed the whole block?” My mother dipped her head and began to work with the bacon. “As you know, a new family has moved into Millton. They are not only new here, and they are our neighbors. They were spending the week in a hotel before moving into a house.” She flipped the bacon. “You may know their boy. He’s around your age. Goes to Millton High School, just like you.” “Oliver,” I suspected. There was a nervous twinge in my stomach. Please, if she wants me to make friends with this kid, kill me. Mother dipped her head again. “Oliver has two fathers, mind you. I’m not sure how you feel about that, but of all things, be polite. I expect no less of you, Emma.” “Yes ma’am.” I tilted my head up towards the ceiling, inhaling the mouthwatering scent of bacon. Soon, food, I shall devour you! “You’ve contacted his parents to make sure they aren’t allergic to eggs or any ingredients you use, right?” Although I was dreading this confrontation with Oliver and his family, I kind of had everyone’s best interests in mind. More for my mom than anyone else. Couldn’t let her get sued. She nodded. A bubble of grease popped near her hand, and she went over to run cold water on it. Then, she checked on the biscuits. “Your father is helping them move in. You should go help, too.” Panic liquified itself to run through my blood. A slow, dragging ache pierced my heart and made me slump in my chair. Of course, I didn’t mind helping out, but Oliver was too odd, too eerie. Especially after the frighteningly real dream I had just left. I wouldn’t mind eating with him for a meal, as was planned, but I didn’t want to spend more time with him than necessary. “Mom, I’m glad to help out, but Oliver is weird, and I’m obviously going to have to spend time with him if I have to help him move into his house!” Mother shot me a glare. She knew I was more judgemental than her. The fact was, I wasn’t trying to judge Oliver, but I could sum him up in one word: creepy. I often caught the new kid staring in my direction, he stuck to my side like a tick, and he seemed to know more about me than he let on. Not to mention, after he appeared in the odd dream of the library, I hadn’t dreamed any more since then. It was not his fault, but it still added to his eeriness. “Now, Emma, you’re friends with a lot of people different from you.” That was a lie. The hell, what friends are you talking about, Mom? “However, just because they are different does not mean they are bad or weird, it just means you’re being narrow-minded. Girl, I raised you better than this.” “That’s not what I-” I was cut off by Mom crinkling her brow in disappointment. I sighed and said, “I’m going to get dressed first.” My mother was a perfect kind of woman; lovable, open-minded, friendly, outgoing, and my favorite person besides Dad and Mary. There was no use in disappointing her. Still, even if I continued attesting to hanging out with Oliver, she would still make me do it. Mom grinned. “Good girl. It’s hot this morning; you should wear some shorts.” With that, she turned back to the stove and turned the notch down, stained apron hanging off of her lanky body. I nodded numbly and went back to my room. I tossed my sheets back onto the bed, grabbed my phone, and dialed Mary. Setting the phone on speaker, I walked over to my closet to scan it for a shirt. “Geez, Sis, it’s nine in the morning!” Mary complained immediately. “I know that’s a little late, but school is really stressful and they make us wake up while it’s still freaking black outside!” She sighed, and the line crackled. “Sorry, Em. I’m just stressed… Good morning.” I unconsciously pulled out a purple spaghetti-strap shirt before going over to my pants drawer. “Good morning, Sis. What are you doing today? Got any plans?” “No. I mean, my Mom has a job interview…” “Awesome. Tell her I congratulate her, if she gets the job.” I pulled out a pair of black shorts that went down to my knees. “I have to help Oliver move in next door.” “Oh, he’s your neighbor? That’s cool.” “He’s creepy,” I furthered the bit of information. “He’s probably got a pair of binoculars he’ll use so he can watch me and stuff…” Mary gave a static-filled laugh. “Emma, you’re a pretty girl. Geez, okay, so he checks you out. So what? I know romantic attention irritates you, but you can’t ignore that you’re pretty. Maybe you’re his type. He doesn’t know how grouchy you can be towards people who check you out, but when he does, I’m sure he’ll stop.” I fished out a pair of black sandals from a pile of shoes, and slid them on. Heart thudding, I said quietly, “Remember my dreams, Mary? The dreams about my mom and the man who gives me the weapon?” Mary stayed quiet for a moment. Knowing her, she was probably recalling how horrified I was whenever they had started, and how horrible it was that I had gotten used to them. Putting on both minty antiperspirant and sunscreen, I hushed myself from saying anything until she could piece my concerns together. Let her figure it out, the connection between Oliver and my dreams. Let her figure it out, why I'm so afraid. Finally, my best friend said, “The white-haired man who always gives you the blade is Oliver, isn’t it?” The disbelief and fear in her voice made a trace of bile lift in my throat. “Yes. He is.” Certainty quivered in my voice. "I'm scared, to tell you the truth. And I can't tell my Mom that." “You started dreaming about him months ago… That’s impossible… He wasn’t even in Alabama then, as far as I know… You do know that the strangers you see in your dreams are people that you’ve seen before, because the human mind is unable to create new faces, right? You didn’t go on any trips out of Alabama, either… That’s creepy as fuck.” “Could you tag along today?” I asked. “You know, while I show Oliver around? I'm pretty sure Mom will make me.” “I’ll be there soon.” She ended the call without a ‘goodbye’; when it came to her friends, they mattered more than manners. That wasn’t how her parents saw it, but it was true. I reentered the kitchen, where the breakfast had been laid out. My mother had placed fruit on the paper plates beside the bacon, and each person’s plastic fork was driven into their cheese-smothered eggs. The scents were overpowering. In the middle of the oakwood table, a white camellia flower was placed in a clear vase. She’s chosen the Alabama state flower as the center piece. Paper towels accompanied the right sides of each plate. To the left sides, there were glasses of golden apple juice sparkling under the morning light. “Looks delish,” I commented. “You want me to go fetch Dad and the neighbors before it gets cold?” I placed my fists into the pockets of my shorts, still not keen on having to speak to Oliver. Maybe I can ignore him. “Please,” Mother said. Without another word, I saunter over into the living room, then out the the door. The day almost felt like summer, when, in fact, it was only a hot winter morning that smells like spring. Later in the year, we’d probably only have a drizzle of instantly-melting snow. I could see the waves of heat wriggling over the streets, hot enough to bake a cake on. Dad was lifting a bed, it looked like, along with one of Oliver’s parents, who looked a little young to be raising a 15-year-old, as his son was. The man had ink-black hair, as dark as my eyes, and had toned muscles that could not be hidden by his dark blue t-shirt. He seemed to be lifting the bed even easier than my father was, but stayed slow and lowered it enough so that Dad could still help, as he aspired to. His skin was a bit on the tan side, as if he was out under the sun often. I deduced that of Oliver’s two fathers, he must have been more of the stereotype male figure, because Oliver was standing with a man who was much less strong and less tanned. The guy that Oliver stood with had shaggy, dirty blonde hair, a slouch, and gray eyes void of emotion. He wore a red t-shirt stuck to him with sweat. I wonder if they'll be part of my dreams, too. I shook my head and called to them, “Mother is done with breakfast!” Almost immediately, Oliver peeked up towards me with a huge grin on his face and lights in his eyes. The black-haired man asked Father to set the bed down so that they all could leave to eat, and he did with care. The shaggy-haired one looked at me with great interest, and they fell silent. After a few seconds, Oliver rushed up towards me, and the others followed behind. “Emma, we’re neighbors!” I faked a smile. “I can see that. Come on in.” Don't let the door hit you. I wasn't only afraid because of who he resembled, but also a bit ticked off because, well, he existed. I hate people. Oliver, however, held the door open for all of our fathers. I led all of them into the kitchen, and let them seat themselves. After each individual was situated, my mother was the first to talk. “What made you decide to come to Millton, Alabama?” Mom questioned the older men. “We’re such a small town.” “We decided that it would be best for Oliver,” the gray-eyed one answered, carrying a bit of the strange accent on his his tongue. He seemed more practiced at pronouncing English words than his son. “We wanted to find a place where people are more connected, and not by social media. Do you have any concerns about this place, before we make a huge mistake?” He grinned to show he was joking. His lips twitched with amusement. Father spoke up in his husky voice, “Well, Carter, the church has a bit of power here… I feel Oliver may be bullied by some of those people who use God as an excuse to dislike different people, for what his parents are.” My father was quite religious himself, and still nearly as open-minded as Mother. I wasn’t sure how I got so openly judgemental, with them as my parents. They liked people, one thing I hated. “That’s one concern.” The black-haired man muttered to me while they went into conversation, “Hello, Emma. Oliver has spoken quite a lot about you.” Although he harboured a smile, his eyes glimmered in question. I shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sure he has. Nice to meet you, sir.” How much has he talked about me? That's what's concerning. “Call me Ace. Where I come from, formality isn’t a need.” He smiled, propping his chin up on his tanned knuckles. “Still nice to get that respect, though.” I knit my eyebrows in confusion. “Alright, Ace, I guess…” “You have all your classes with my… son?” I nodded, trying not to frown. “I do. He mostly sticks to his books.” Thank God, or else he’d probably be watching me all the time. “Has Oliver ever been to Alabama before this week started?” Maybe, just maybe, I had seen him before to be able to dream about him. Ace said, “No.” I slouched and cut off a bit of eggs before scooping it into my mouth with the prongs of my fork. Instead of truly tasting my food, my mind wandered off into the dark corners of my mind. In movies, this is how you always die. There’s strange people that move into a neighborhood… Creepy things happen… Then, they end up killing you or something. Sure, I was being paranoid, but those dreams… For all I knew, Mary was right; Oliver just thought I was pretty, and he wasn’t being a stalker. However, the dream could not be ignored. It felt so real to me when it happened, almost like a memory of something that never happened was being relived. And the way the new-ish boy played into everything when I slept was disturbing. He trained me to use the weapons in my sleep, and if I tried to use those skills in the waking world, the lessons he taught would show. Perhaps I was overthinking things. “Emma,” my mother said, snapping me out of my thoughts. I glanced down at my plate and found a half-eaten strip of greasy, crisp bacon to be the only thing left. “Did you hear what Carter here proposed?” “No, ma’am. I went off into Lala Land, sorry. Could you repeat that?” I blinked up at my mother blankly. Father sighed, exasperated. I daydreamed often. And I usually chose the wrong time to do that, too. “Carter asked if you could show Oliver around the neighborhood, since they had only been in the motel for the time they were here in Millton. What do you say?” I glanced over at said boy, who was beaming brightly at me from two seats away. He’d brushed the hair out of his face to make a bone-white fringe over his lively blue eyes. I planned to show him around anyway, didn’t I? His posture was rigid, his hands in his lap. Perhaps if I gave him a chance, I could forget about the dream. Perhaps I could even make friends with him… Or see if he really was crushing on me, in which case, he wouldn’t want to be around me after what I’d threaten to him. “Of course, but earlier, Mary said she’d help them move in with me. Instead, can she help me show him around?” Ace smiled at Mom, showing he approved. In response, Mother dipped her head. “We’ll do all the moving while you guys bond.” Bonding was a stretch, but I guess parents never know the right things to say. I just nodded in agreement and turned to the pale boy. “Come on, Oliver.” He stood up immediately, scooted his chair in, and followed me through the door leading outside. Despite the heat, Oliver was wearing a white hoodie . The attire was what probably made his skin so pale, despite being seemingly comfortable in the sun. His hair was laid over his gaze again, showing only one eye through the snow-colored curtain. His slender hands were burrowed in the pockets on the stomach of the jacket, and he followed after me with a lazy walk. I led him down as far as the trickling mini-creek snaking at the end of our driveway, past the mirages on the concrete caused by the especially hot winter morning. Then, I couldn’t decided whether I wanted to show him around the forest bit of the area, or the general stores, or the other houses. On top of not being able to decide, I was waiting for Mary, stuck with the strange teenage boy until she arrived. He smiled at me, leaning against a tree. “So, Emma, what do you like to do? I know a couple things." “Hmm?” I stood over the trickle in my driveway, crossing my arms over my chest. “Acting is my life. If I’m not doing something with acting, I’m studying or reading or something. And listening to Metallica. What about you?” Oliver shuffled his feet, smiling shyly. “I’m either reading, learning something epic, or practicing my swordsmanship. Thank you for being curious." His eyes glimmered in appreciation. I shivered at the mention of a sword, an image of my dreams flashing by all at once. Every night, it is a sword that he gives me that switches into a hammer and is placed into my hand. The eeriness of Oliver actually being able to handle a blade struck me, but I knew that, realistically, there was no way that could play into anything. A dream was something your own mind created. Although it was concerning, I had to push my superstitions aside. Besides… Nobody could ever make me hurt my mother. I forced a smile. “Something epic? Not like math and the stuff they actually teach you? What is it that you learn?” He lifted himself off of the tree and said, “New languages. New weapons. History nobody else cares to learn. All the little things that open up the universe a little better. Perhaps sometime I could help you learn other things, if you’d like.” I ignored his proposition. “What languages can you speak?” Apparently, I hadn’t come off as rude, because he answered my question without even an irritated glance. “Japanese, English, French, Enochian, Latin, Italian, Dutch, German, Chinese, Arabic, more that I don’t believe you would care for me to name.” I wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or think him a liar, so I just nodded casually. “Why are you wearing a jacket?” “I don’t take it off, save for when I need to or I am alone.” His smile quivered. "Still, I like to keep it on, even alone." “Why?” “My mother gave this jacket to me.” I tilted my head to the side, thinking of Ace and Carter. Did his birth mother leave it to him or something? Interesting… “Oh…” “Rawr!” At the following moment, a familiar hand slammed against my shoulder, right before a happy laugh sounded out. Predictably, it was Mary. She slid into view after seeing that I wasn’t startled by her jumpscare, blocking Oliver from my view. Her inky curls bounced against her head, and her green gaze drifted over me. “Oh, look, Sis, you aren’t wearing slutty clothes today!” I rolled my eyes. Mary continued, “Where are we bringing le human first?” I glanced up towards the sky and said, “Where everyone lives, then the stores, then the woods. A tour of Millton would take until the sky starts getting dark. I’m thinking, since I brought money, we can go get ice cream and pizza in the middle of the day.” “Sounds like a deal!” my friend agreed, black hair bobbing. Her eyes glimmered. “What do you say, Oliver?” “I’ve never had ice cream… or this pizza object you mentioned… But I’m all for a new experience, so I say I will follow along.” Mary gaped at him, and I knit my brow, trying to analyze if he was telling the truth or not. My best friend clasped a hand over her heart and let out a long, sad note of grief. “It sounds as if there is a case of child abuse going on!” Oliver bit his lip. “Actually, no, I am well cared for. I do not see why the subtraction of a type of food I can live without is considered abuse… I did find your laws odd when I was studying them…” Mary turned to me. “I am going to make this child high on ice cream, and I am going to feed him so much pizza he pukes.” “Now that,” I said, “sounds like abuse.” She shushed me and began to jog away from us, towards the sprouting row of houses on either side of the sizzling concrete. Oliver and I trotted after. As I moved, the only thing I could think about was my dreams, the strange boy, and all the blood that followed.

***

There, in the suffocating darkness, the air felt like fire on our skin and there was a dizzy sense where our minds couldn’t decide if we were going up or down. The place was void of light, but the strength of my demonic eyes could refract our leader’s pale soul glowing two miles ahead, so I could slightly see the glow of my companions. The place in which we crawled through, which I suspected was a tunnel miles wide, was big enough for two slim people to snake side-by-side. He pressed his flank to the side of the sodden dirt wall, inhaled deeply, and let my slip by his side. I breathed in his scent, widening my eyes enough to the the outline of his face. His smell was as precious as oxygen. I assumed he was bending the soul light, too, considering that his staring at my face directly was apparent. “We travel together, Lil.” I didn’t find it strange that he was calling me by another name. If I truly thought about it, this man was a stranger. However, here, in the capacity of my mind, I’d known him my whole life. “Thank you… For savin’ me back on the field.” I wasn’t sure where the dialogue came from, either, but it felt right. “Gary would have killed me. This wouldn’t be happening right now…” We began to crawl again. “It was the least I could do. Everyone was saving each other out on the field,” he said. “Is this confusing for you?” “A bit… when did the Dark strike? Why?” “He is Croma’s brother. They were both born alongside the universe, and Dark was made to destroy, while Croma was made to create. They didn’t go hand-in-hand, as was meant to be… Because the Dark kept murdering the test kingdoms before us, where Croma designed creatures to go in his worlds.” “What happened to the dead ones?” “They became demons, Lil. Demons like us. But we came back after death, back to Croma’s new six kingdoms, and we owe him everything.” We kept crawling beside each other in the moist darkness, being ran out of our home named after its creator, Croma. As our oxygen began to leak out and our senses fade, we fought to keep on. In the end, our fleet of seventy demons, angels, and faerie would all either die out or make it. Either of which could have been a huge mistake.

***

I was dragged out of my thoughts abruptly by the flavor of cheesecake and vanilla ice cream exploding onto my tongue, nearly making me jump. My jaw tingled. I had my knuckles propped up under my chin, mouth gaping open enough to swallow the head of the treat I held in my hand. My coalish eyes made their way over to Mary, who was busily chatting with Oliver. We sat outside the parlor, at a table with a russet umbrella propped in the middle. “I don’t understand how ice cream looks like a science experiment to you. It looks like deliciousness to me!” Mary said, biting into her half-eaten chocolate cone. “The rate it morphs from solid to liquid at such a quick rate, which is predictable, considering how heated this day is. However, it is still an apparent product of science. And even if it is not, there is a fraction of it that is actually science.” He seemed to have baffled himself. He tentatively took another lick at his fudge ice cream. “Wha? You’re confusing me, boy…” I found myself smiling at the two of them, completely worked out of the daze that I so often found myself trapped within. At times, I would get so lost in the events in my imagination that I’d lose time, and forget the day’s events. Apparently, it had already been a half-day that I had spaced out for. “Emma?” Mary said, “Can we take the ice cream to-go? It’s getting dark out, Sis.” I looked at her for a moment, wondering if I should tell her about how reality was fading for me, about how my strange dreams made more sense to me than real life. I wondered if I should trouble her with my concerns, with my petty fears. However, when I opened my mouth to speak and glanced through her emerald gaze, I didn’t see any need to complain. All I saw was an innocent child looking for answers, answers to more than what she had asked. So, instead, I clamped my mouth shut and nodded. The daydream would be something I’d bring up another time, to someone else, like my mother. Perhaps.

***

The following night, in another world, I do not wake up in the chair, as I had left off in the last dream. I am simply brought to life with no memory of it beginning, kneeling over a mound of unmoved dust. My hands pat at its soft texture, and my eyes are unafraid of a wind drifting and pressing it into my eyes. My attire is covered in a smooth, pale brown color, which is inevitably more of the loose dirt. There are some stones, all charred, but no roots. This land is so void of life. I turn around. Oliver walks up behind me, a sad expression filtering his pale face. “Nothing grows here anymore, Emma Whitestone. Not since time stopped.” He sighs, positioning himself on the ground so that he is cross-legged beside me in the dust. “Most of our dirt is rock-hard, but there are loose parts that we have stumbled across. It is frustrating… having to wait until creation can bloom things again.” I take the handful of dirt and toss it up into the air. It freezes in place as soon as I let it go. “It’s beautiful, but something everyone on earth takes for granted. Sometimes… Sometimes we destroy it, when we get bored. I guess when you care enough, you find the notion of that sick, but so many of us do it.” Oliver lets out a breath. His hand drifts through the air where the cloud of dust stands still, and he pulls down what could be a tablespoon of it. There is now a gap in the space before us. “They come in rainbows,” I said. “So many different colors, colors you’ve probably never seen before. And green! Green is on each and every flower. It’s beautiful.” “How can the humans ever get tired of that?” “It’s rare," I answered, "But some of us don’t.” I continue scratching my fingers into the dirt. I’m sure I have felt rocks softer than what had settled below me. It felt like a boring slate of rough diamond below me, dirt that has not seen the elements for countless years, save for the influence of the land’s inhabitants. Oliver dusts my purple sleeves off, looks as if he wants to say something, but leaves me to ponder. I’m not sure how, but I know he loves questions, and hates ignorance, if he ever could hate. “You’re waking up so fast,” Oliver says suddenly, with pride in his tone. “You’re a lot faster than Fango did. You seem to realize more than most people, too. I really am proud that you turned out to be my Extant… You know, Caleb didn’t believe that you were it. He told me the Kalos was probably someone we saw more of in the other prophet’s lives. But Lord Ebony suspected it was you…” He places his hand on my shoulder, a friendly gesture. “I came to your dimension looking for you. I hardly remember what the flowers were like there… I get so foggy when it comes to remembering Earth. Did you know that when we sense our prophet, their element implodes on our land?” I shake my head. “You have the wind element, for example. When I found you in that dimension, there was this huge, fantastic wind storm that came down on us. There were tornadoes, and the ground was turned to dust at the potential of your power,” Oliver says, “You are very strong…” “What is the relationship between an Apotropaic and an Extant?” “Both the Apotropaic and the Extant come from the same kingdom, but different dimensions. An Apotropaic comes from Croma, this barren land named after its creator. They have spent millions of years learning things about potential dimensions their Extant could pop up in, and have the ability to temporarily create a vessel to roam that dimension with. Same goes for anything and anyone in the original dimension.” He stands, dusts himself off, and takes my hand. After I knock the dirt off of myself, we walk towards the castle. He continues speaking as we walk. “The Extant comes from the second dimension, which I will get into at a later visit. They control one of the elements, and they are possibly some of the most important beings in the universe with thankless jobs.” Oliver opens the door to the castle, letting me enter first. “An Apotropaic has been assigned to train his Extant, and his whole existence is dedicated to them. Their relationship is strictly a student-teacher thing…” He flushes. “Well, not strictly. I’d like to make good friends with you… And... I have witnessed my brother kissing an Extant that isn’t his…” The first room to the castle isn’t the same as I remember it to be. Now, there is a great oakwood table with chairs all around it, and the chairs are made of the same material as the stairs leading to the upper floor. There are two men sitting in them already. One of them is a brown-eyed boy with short hair of the same color neatly combed over his head. The other one is Ace. Before now, I failed to realize he had been in the last dream I had about this place, and he appeared in my real life as well. Just like Oliver had. Vaguely, I wondered if Carter was here in the castle. Even in the haze of the dream, I had a bit of reasoning, it seemed. Ace looks up from a game of what looks like a stone-and-dirt version of checkers and laughs at Oliver. “Dear Croma, shut up! Nobody needs to hear about me and Nahara!” The white-haired teen beside me crinkles his brow in innocent confusion. “Love is not unheard of. I do not understand why you get to defensive when it comes to the affection you display for Nahara. Besides, I am being honest.” “Ace is your brother?” I ask. Oliver nods, smiling. “He is the best brother anyone could be cursed with. He poses as my gay father in your dimension, just until my vessel dies. As does Carter, although he is Dillan’s Apotropaic. Ace does not have his Extant, the Minium, yet. We are still on earth, looking for her.” “We know she is female,” the brown-haired guy says, moving a stone across the dirt design, “because there are three males and three females in the list of Apotropaics. My name is Caleb, by the way. You’re Emma. You awake?” “Not yet.” I shift uncomfortably. “I’m not fully awake until…” I suddenly have no clue how to end my sentence. “Um… You know…” They all nod and exchange glances. Ace says, “Is history the only thing you have taught her, man?” He flashes a lopsided grin. Oliver buries his hands into his pockets and flushes. “History is underrated! If you don’t explain why we are doing what we are doing, there is no point to it. They don’t understand things to the full extent, brother. Besides, she is not yet awake… We will work on true lessons with weapons when that moment comes. Besides, knowledge is just as important as-” “Quit acting like my mother, dear Croma!” My Apotropaic shrugs, throwing on a sorrowful face. “I’m sorry. How was I acting like Lord Jupus? Have I disgraced her somehow?” Caleb shakes his head. “Hey, Oliver…” He blinks at the other Apotropaic. “Yeah?” “What kind of shorts do clouds wear?” “Please kill me,” Ace moans. Oliver lifts his eyebrows. “I… How do they… What?” Caleb smiled. “Thunderwear. Ha!” Leaving Oliver to laugh on his own, he turns to me and says, “I know this one was confusing. But hold on, Emma…” His voice lowers. “People are dying. And trust me, we will take care of that soon.” Again, the world fades. I trust that I won’t fall to the floor, because I feel frozen in place as the room begins to spin. The dull lighting begins to twitch in the blur of my vision, and everything comes with its own blurred outline. In the next moment, my world comes back to me as my room instead. Metallica was blasting in my ears through my headphones. I was on my bed, uncovered, with the light turned on. Predictably, it stung my eyes. Sitting up in bed, I glanced around the room to find that something was unnaturally wrong. Suspended in midair, my television set, my bicycle helmet, and my trashcan were all gradually turning themselves over. As if the gravity had been partially turned off for only a few of my belongings. I backed myself against my wall, clamping the palm of my hand over my mouth to keep from crying out in shock. As soon as the fear zapped itself into me, each item fell to the floor without a sound. I looked at them for a minute, and did nothing but breath. There was nothing else I could do… Except for make the realization that I was the one that made it all float.

#the demon inheritance #croma #writing #writers #original #fiction #action #humor #funny #horror #jayisweirdedout #popular #awesome

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