vtheobscurial
Queen Veve
11 posts
Sexual | 31 | NY | Aspiring Filmmaker/Screenwriter - And I'm usually too busy crying over fictional characters to live my own life | Happy to take requests
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vtheobscurial · 5 years ago
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Not Ready To Die
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Figured I would contribute to the Billy Hargrove fandom <3
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vtheobscurial · 5 years ago
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vtheobscurial · 5 years ago
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Or crying like a little bitch because I cannot accept that reality so I go on a tangent on how to bring them back to life.
Fight me.
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vtheobscurial · 5 years ago
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@vehementhate
Rain immediately hating me for tagging you in the last post BECAUSE HE’S THINKING OF ALL THE PAIN BEFORE KITKAT
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Opie Winston, requested by: ermahgerddragons
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vtheobscurial · 5 years ago
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Panty dropper
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STRANGER THINGS 2 — 2x9 The Gate
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vtheobscurial · 5 years ago
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I’m so tired of living my life through my characters, I want to live life through my own experiences because this is depressing as fuck.
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vtheobscurial · 5 years ago
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STRANGER THINGS 3 SPOILER
My Netflix plea because how the fuck can they redeem him and then tell me that my feelings don’t mean shit by killing him off?! I’ve been distraught before with character deaths, 2 to be exact, but watching Billy switch made my heart full AND THAN RIPPED APART!
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vtheobscurial · 5 years ago
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Don’t You Worry
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“He doesn’t love you, my young fire witch,” whispered the very Devil by her ear with the saddest of expressions, yet, the most sinister of eyes as he watched her from behind. Vallmon was not one to keep truths to himself, not when it came down to those that he had gained an inch of care for and as unfortunate as that may have been for Esme, she was in his inner circle. “But don’t you worry about a damn thing,” he spoke again in a low whisper that was only meant for Esme to hear in a room filled with life. The music was loud, the cheering was overwhelming as it stung her eardrums. Every which way she settled were only met with the happiness around, a feeling she had long forgotten and as much as she tried to gain it back, the further it dissipated and turned only to wishful thinking. She’d always known that happiness was not something to grow attached to, she had been cursed from the moment she took her first breath. She knew now that it wasn’t her former Supreme title, it was her and no one was to blame but life itself as it played Russian Roulette and it just happened to have been her getting shot.
“Tell me, my dear Dark Lord, do you get your jollies off by being the literal Devil on the shoulder?” Esme asked as her piercing hazels Vallmon’s constant ever swirling hues – a lively brown to golden yellow with the only times that it stopped was when he grew angry and they turned pitch black with fury like no other. He didn’t keep Esme around just because of her pretty looks, no, he kept her alive and well kept for because she challenged him at every turn, and it made him feel…alive but it also angered him as he filled with such misery. Slowly, he rounded her figure, with each breath he took, his eyes never leaving her lithe figure with a mild of arousal at everything she had to offer the man. It was no surprise that he desired the young witch, she was a sight and a well-won trophy. “Maybe,” he replied with a teasing tone as he practically purred the very words out, finally meeting her gaze as he now stood tall in front of her. “But there’s truth in all in which I dare speak.” He made a damn good point and even Esme couldn’t deny it even if his words were used as salt to an already opened wound. She both hated and loved this, the taunting realism that only the Dark Lord could provide her emanated a silent need in her. It wasn’t because Esme enjoyed it, but it was the only way she knew that she was still very much alive – the pain his words caused in her was a reminder that she was still standing and there was time to pick up any of her shattered pieces and glue them together, but only sometimes. This evening, however, was not one of those moments. Everyone knew that she was broken, the damage caused by her first death was irreparable despite how hard she had tried when she first came back. Dying, going to Hell, coming back, it was one Hell of a story for those she told but every time she had forgotten to mention the emptiness she felt inside to avoid the pity party they were sure to throw her way. The physical Hell was nothing compared to the new Hell she had been subjected to. She would happily take the old Hell over this one any day because at least there, she knew exactly what she was dealing with when she was truly alone and not surrounded but feeling lonely. But here? Back on earth with the people, she thought she loved and loved her back? No. That was hard. Even harder watching as each of them began to turn their back on her which only made that hauntingly void grow with every day she awoke. Nothing felt right anymore, nothing felt real. It was as if she were looking through a hazy glass more than half of the time and the more she tried to break that damn glass, nothing happened. While everyone looked at her, they couldn’t really see her, not anymore anyway. They all promised that things would change, that everything would be okay if she just kept going but it was just a lie the others told her to make themselves feel as if they were helping, but they weren’t. They were making everything worse. Nobody knew how she truly felt. They didn’t know everything she had gone through. They couldn’t feel the emptiness. It had been her story for so long that now it was just a script, something others would nod through and tell her how brave she had been and how much they admired her. It was funny to her, it was, and it wasn’t. Just a mixture of confusion that seeped through her every essence because she didn’t know how to handle it and move on. “You want to know what I think about your truth?” Though she spoke in calm, something she’d only recently acquired though not completely calm but as there was a hint of dread to her tone that would take the joy out of everything she ever spoke. The witch had grown bored, with everything and everyone around her and nobody was trying to do anything about it but simply watch her and deal. “I am a firm believer that you can shove it up ass and go torment some other sad bitch,” cold and bitter as it was, it hadn’t been the first time she had said this to him. Anyone else that ever spoke to the Dark Lord as Esme did would be facing serious consequences, but it only seemed to excite the man, an exhilarating wave went through him as his lips parted in a crooked smile. “Unnnnnf,” his pitch low with a growl of approval as it rolled through his throat. “If my heartbeat and my emotions allowed me, I think I would be experiencing not only a broken heart but rejection,” there was no doubt about it, Vallmon was not like any other Demon she’d ever met. He was sarcastic and bulletproof to the max which caused a roll of her eyes as she watched him sway back-and-forth in his overly expensive white suit. Most would believe that the Devil would be wearing some dark and gloomy colors, but this bastard liked to wear white just to shit on big Daddy up in the sky. “Rejection would take effort, I just don’t care,” Esme flashed a half-dead smile his way in a mocking form as she shifted in her standing position. “Out of a room filled with so many dying fans, you come to the one that just doesn’t care. Why?” A room filled with people she easily tuned out, she was tired of attending these party’s and she thought she was done with them when she stopped being Supreme. From the corner of her eyes however, she could see Eira dancing away with her werewolf boy and at least one of the twins were having fun. “Because I want to dance,” Vallmon offered his hand with a smile, though the genuineness of it could be questioned. “No.” “Now you’re not going to be leaving poor ol’ me with my hand hanging, are you?” If she had felt the need to look at him at this very moment, she may have caught the fleeting frown across his face. “Because I don’t want to,” she replied as her eyes caught the eyes of his wife, Lilith who was now staring at Esme with a look of disapproval. It wasn’t because she was the jealous type but more so for Esme disrespecting her husband at such an event. As much as Esme wanted to ignore that and walk out of this dance, she knew it wouldn’t go over too well. “Fine,” she spoke again with a defeated sigh as she reached to take his hand, giving him a quick bow. Dancing hadn’t always been something Esme enjoyed doing, least not sober though she had been told that she was good at it. Dancing to her, was the same as exposing vulnerability while lowering her guard down and she pretended that she was as normal as they came. She remembered being the little girl that would step on her father’s feet and staring up at him as if he were the greatest man alive as he moved both to the sway of the music playing. So many years looking up and admiring the man and yet, she couldn’t help him when he needed it the most. Her mother would be in the kitchen cooking one of her inventions as she peeked around the corner and smiled to herself. Eira would be somewhere in the home and then come running out of nowhere and jump on Esme, causing their tumble and as much as Esme wanted to cry for ruining her father-daughter dance, she would wrap her arms around her younger twin and laugh it off. It only reminded her of a time when things were perfect and she hadn’t yet been touched by the cruelty of the world around her when her parents shielded her from it all because it was their duty. But they were long dead and couldn’t shield her away from life anymore. Vallmon took Esme in his arms, one around her small waist and the other lacing fingers through hers as he led with each step. It had seemed as if the entire room had gone silent for a moment, a new audience that Esme was not fond of, but it wasn’t often that the Dark Lord took someone in his arms for a dance. It was evident in her shifting eyes with each turn and whirl they took. “Keep your eyes on me, focus on me, not them,” suggested the male Devil but it did hold a demand behind it. Esme obliged, eyes settled back on him to avoid the rest of the crowd to witness their banter. Though after some time, they all went back to their positions and the party continued. It felt as if they had been on the dance floor for hours, songs would change, and they would be doing the same dance over and over without so much as a breather. The air had grown softer, lighter in density and just as it had settled, she took her first real breath only to have noticed that Vallmon had some due in the matter. Everyone had vanished, the music felt distant and she could feel the warmth of his body entering hers. “Why are you doing this?” Esme finally broke the silence when she found her voice once more. She was a bit taken back from this gesture, she was only another of his slaves tricked into believing that she had her free will. She had learned a long time ago that it wasn’t the case but there wasn’t much to do about it, she had already contracted her soul away. “Because I like you,” he said simply and for once, he meant the weight behind his words. It wasn’t often the Dark Lord did anything without something for him at the end. In the end, he would get something out of this, but it wasn’t just for him, it was for the Dark Conclave as a whole. He knew Esme was a ticking bomb, a volcano waiting to erupt and take out everything and everyone in her path, it was only a matter of time and he needed to stop that before she ruined his plan for Soteria. Esme raised a brow to his answer, skeptical as always from all the things she had been told before, nothing was ever what it seemed. People just didn’t do kind things for others, people were full of hate, anger, and envy. “I’m serious. The Great Dark Lord doesn’t help someone else just because he likes you. What is in it for you?” “Company.” He said after a few seconds of thought as he twirled her around. “You’re hung up on a guy that took off on you and you could use some company.” Esme broke out in laughter, an involuntary action on her part. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you but I don’t.” There was a hint of annoyance in his eyes, in the way his lips wavered, and his eyes roamed her face. It was no secret in the sadness in them, he could see the dying spark in them and as selfish as he was, he couldn’t allow for that burn to disappear. “You got your heartbroken, and as much as that sucks, it happens but time to suck it up,” there was no point in sugarcoating the fact, better he said it than someone else. “Oh, because the Dark Lord knows a thing or two about heartbreak?” She didn’t want to hear it, she knew, after all, it was her going through it for the hundredth time. She tried to break their touch, to end this dance and their conversation but he held on tighter. “You’re going to listen to me now,” his eyes narrowing down on her like a dart seeking its bullseye, let it not go unheard that he tried a nice way. “It wasn’t the first time and it sure as Hell won’t be the last time. People are fickle and don’t realize when they have something good in front of them until it’s too late.” Despite what others may think, Vallmon knew of the pains of heartbreak, of believing he had it all and then watching it slip through his hands. Being subjected to absolutely nothing, to feel worthless and mocked for it. Of being called the bad guy for wanting to be different, free. His Father breaking his heart when he banished him to earth and that was the most pain he’d ever been in. Knowing that he would never feel that amount of love no matter how hard he sought it from everyone else. Esme fell silent, choking back a creeping sorrow from the back of her throat. For the first time, someone had finally said it and didn’t pity her. Her eyes stung from unshed warm tears which she refused to allow loose, crying was one thing but crying in front of your master was an absolute no. You just don’t show weakness in that variety when it came down to this man or he would give you something to really cry about. Vallmon could tell that his words struck her, and this was a good thing, for him anyway. “You still have a mission to complete and if your emotions ruin this for me,” their dancing took pause, still holding her close and he reached the hand that had been entwined with hers, softly caressing her cheek. “I will personally check you and everyone you love back into Hell and rip you apart myself, for eternity.” The threat was real, and Esme knew this as her head held high, her own eyes narrowing on Vallmon with the weight of the threat on her, but she knew better than to test him. He wouldn’t just take her, those she still loved would fall prey to this predator and it wouldn’t have been the smartest move on her part, at least not yet. “So my dear fire witch, don’t ever let me catch you moping about because the next time, it won’t be a talk you’ll get from me,” a wide smile took hold of his lips, showing the malicious in his features and for once, Esme felt his coldness directed towards her as she nodded her head in acknowledgement all while her breathing had taken a pause. “Good girl.” With that, reality struck once more. They were back in the same room as the crowd, the music playing loudly in the background as Vallmon kissed her forehead and walked back in the swarm of followers, a much chipper Devil.
Story between 2 of my characters. Obviously, Vallmon being my portrayal of the Devil and Esme, my favorite bean ever.
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vtheobscurial · 6 years ago
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Imprinted
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Rain, The Alpha
“Another round for us dogs!” Rain yelled to the bartender across the room with a thundering liveliness to the demand as he took his final shot of whiskey and downed it faster than the bartender could nod, the loud collide of the glass meeting the wooden table causing heads to turn and look. Across the table were the first few members of his pack, his MC and his family – Milo, Steph and their baby sister, Gal though she wasn't part of the pact, least not yet. They were out celebrating a victorious and quite dangerous gamble, their first legitimate theft gone right. Away they’ve walked with over $50,000 cash and that wasn’t including any jewelry that may have made its way out the door. It was a good night to celebrate it and what better way than to get shitfaced and create more of a ruckus than initially planned. After all, they were a pack of dogs with the inability to be civil.
Drinks after drinks, song after song, the pack managed to calm down. The town folk in the bar were starting to scatter as the night continued its extensive growth in darkness and coldness, a feeling that Rain had anticipated and quite didn’t give a shit. It was their night even as it winded down, yet, there was an odd feeling starting to creep through Rain’s spine, over his head and even at times, out his throat but he knew that the amount of alcohol he so willingly consumed had nothing to do with it. No, something was coming, and he couldn’t put his finger to it, at least not yet as it had not arrived. His nose was to the air, sniffing the very particles in which surrounded them all as the sweetness and tangy smell came closer with each inhale. His ears were listening beyond the confined walls of the musty old bar and the loudness vibrating from all the beating hearts inside, but none were of any interest to the Alpha. Every hair in his body stood at its tallest, skin prickling, and it mattered not how many times he ran his palm over his arm, the hairs remained on edge just as much as all the senses he owned were as now he set in full alert and a dragging feeling of anxiety beginning to take rise and settle at the pit of his stomach.
“Brother, you okay?” Asked the grizzly blonde with blue eyes staring back at Rain’s emerald orbs with a tint of concern, Milo, still very much awake and remaining strong by his side. Milo was the first one that Rain hadn’t needed to bribe in one form or another for company and there were probably times when Rain tried to shake him off and couldn’t. His best friend even if they couldn’t say it aloud.
“Yeah, must have drank to much,” responded Rain with a sigh, his eyes scanning through the crowd to see if anything had changed. It was a lie, Rain could outdrink just about any of his pack mates and being Alpha had nothing to do with it. He had spent many nights devouring through hours of liquor and not a hint of tipsy running through his thick veins, not even a stumble, blurred vision or even slurred speech. Something was still very off as he sniffed the contents in his glass but that wasn’t it.
It was the moment that Rain decided to march over to the bartender and demand answers, perhaps there was something in his drink and it was now taking affect or even the top of the bottle in which he’d tasted just moments before the feeling took residence within him. He pushed his stool with full intent to cause some trouble when the door opened. Usually he wouldn’t had given a shit as to who had walked in, it was a bar and people were in and out throughout the entirety of the night, but the scent drew his eyes towards the new person. Every single of his senses was on a heat wave when his eyes met the brunette with silky porcelain-like skin.
His eyes were glued on her figure and as much as he wanted to look away, he couldn’t, afraid that if he looked away or even blinked for that matter, she would disappear into the crowd despite the burning of his eyes from the dryness caused by the lack of lubrication. He’d never felt this damn compelled to watch someone unless they were a target in one of his heists. But this stranger, the woman, he’d never even seen her, never came across her in his many years of traveling and to be frank, wasn’t the kind of woman he would find interest in. Not because she wasn’t good looking – matter of fact, she was a beauty amid many, but she was young, he could sense it in her. Too young. Among the many things he could smell on her, she was like him, like his pack, a werewolf but also not like them, she was broken, and it didn’t take a genius to see it in her eyes as her eyes met with Rain even if it were just for a second. The curiosity only seemed to grow within him as he began to wonder what it had been that had tainted her, that hurt her and just as his thoughts raced, he could feel himself growing protective over her and it shook him back into semi-reality with a confused expression clear on his features as he muttered something inaudible, even to Milo whom had just a good hearing as Rain did. He didn’t even know this girl!
Rain’s heart began to speed faster than he’d ever felt it, a loud pounding that he could feel vibrate to the top of his skull and cause a deafening thump in his very brain with a frantic outburst of need, causing the scar at the back of his head feel as if it were reopening in which, Rain took his hand and felt around to make sure that it wasn’t the case. It was not but it was also producing just as much heat and pulse as he had felt the night, he’d been given it.
His palms were sweaty as he looked down upon them, quickly taking them and rubbing it against his pant leg but only seeming to produce more, the more he wiped away. His throat was on pure fire as he tugged at his shirt to allow for more air to make its way down his chest. He wanted to roar it all out, but the choking made its way slowly consuming just his throat and then taking a hold on the entirety of his body. Then the shaking started from the bones in his leg and then his arms all the meanwhile, he couldn’t describe what the Hell was going on with him as he’d never felt this awful and terrifying sensation before. The very beast crawling inside of him was beginning to claw its way out from him, wanting to leap over to the dark-haired woman and make her, his. Was he dying? Had his time finally come, here, in the bar as he watched some girl take her seat in the corner of the building?
“I hate to be the one saying this, Rain, but I think you’re officially cut off drinking for the night,” spoke his friend with a chuckle as his eyes followed Rain’ and landed on the same girl. Rain however, had blocked everything out and hadn’t realized that Milo had spoken to him. Milo raised an eyebrow at the situation, he to could smell the familiarity in the young woman but nothing more than just that, they’d come across rogue wolves before, it wasn’t anything new or out of the ordinary but Rain’s reaction to her was a definite new, something he’d never witnessed before. Taking his very hand and waving it in front of Rain to see if he could snap the bastard out of whatever trance he’d lost himself in.
Finally, a movement other than the very, obvious staring on Rain’s behalf seemed to erupt from him as he caught Milo’s hand in mid-air. Followed by his light shade of green hues meeting with Milo’s blues. “I’m good, brother,” were his only words as he released the younger wolf’s hand. Rain wasn’t intending to come out so aggressive and was thankful to his Beta for snapping that shitty feeling away.
“If you say so, thought I’d finally lost you to whatever demons had taken claim of your mind just now,” Milo’s tone was lower than usual, still very full of playfulness as his mind wandered to what other things he would’ve been forced to do if the old man hadn’t come to his senses with the waving of his hands. Such opportunities now lost to him.
“Someday but not today,” replied Rain with a crooked smile only for his eyes to go back to the one that had stolen all his attention and quite possibly, his heart. Things he’d been told before from Ray were coming into mind as to their new nature the longer, he continued his stare. The aching feeling of wanting to protect, the beating heart which felt as if it were being summoned out of his chest cavity, the choking of his throat and body, the nervous feeling in which mixed with pure excitement, the yearning for nothing more than that person. <i>Imprint</i> and once it all settled in at full throttle, Rain swallowed a big gulp as his eyes sifted to the bottle on the table in front of him. He hadn’t a clue about what to do with this new situation, it wasn’t one he knew he could shrug off, not one to ignore or let go but surely one that was dangerous for all parties involved because he damn well knew that he wasn’t about to let it go over some bullshit ass stories of imprints gone wild.
“I’m so fucked,” he broke out with as he grabbed the bottle, pressing it to his lips and finishing the rest of the contents and the burning sensation of the alcohol meeting the walls in his mouth and esophagus compared nothing to what this woman had done to him. He was fucked but all he wanted to do was know this woman, anything to hear her voice, to have her eyes look back at his or even feel her touch against his skin even if just for a moment but he couldn’t quite go up to her and say “Hey, I think I’ve imprinted on you so now you’re mine and if you try to run away, I might kill ya on accident.” No, he wasn’t foolish enough, but he could damn well start with getting her name.
Balls dropping as his confidence reached an all high. “Be right back, man,” Rain spoke as he stood up at his full height and began making his journey over to the woman, each step of the way he wanted to turn back but he’d look foolish as all Hell if he did so. “I’m buying you a drink, Rain is the name.” His first words to the woman and he hadn’t a clue what the fuck it was that he did but after a few snark comments back and forth he got her name and not just that, he was gifted a smile that shot straight to the bastard’s heart and made it all worth it.
“Katara.” And thus, the story between these wolves begin...
I’m personally a sucker for how these two met and continued on their friendship. He never told her that he imprinted and even now that they married, he has yet to mention it. Maybe he will one day, but as for right now, he’s just enjoying life.
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vtheobscurial · 6 years ago
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Fallen
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The Fall of the Adrasteian Supreme
I have only slipped away into the next room
It started with a trickle. It wasn’t the kind of trickle that would leave you with a sense of relief at the end, at least not to the prying eyes that stood there as they witnessed the end of a life, a life that had been cursed with the most of unfortunate strings of events. It was never easy to reign completely a Coven of witches, witches that looked up at her with a glint of hope in their eyes as they stared back, believing wholehearted that she would be the one to change their outcome and protect them no matter the cause, leading her to make a pact with the demon from her early Supreme days. Her soul being the only thing he asked for and as awful as it sounded, Esme took the deal and sealed her own death warrant.
This was just another of those insistences. She used the remainder of her powers to protect the living members of her Adrasteian sisters. The city was in ruins, between Gatsby – the Bellona Supreme – and unspoken new threats Soteria had reached its limit, no longer fit as a haven but now served as Hell. Esmeralda watched in horror as everyone around her fell, victims to these threats and even the strongest witches and allies were no challenge. It was one of her darkest hours, unable to do anything useful. But there was hope. One trickle of hope left. Esme didn’t hesitate to muster any bit of strength she had left to cast a spell strong enough to create a powerful barrier to keep everyone that still held air in their lungs and a beating heart knowing what this meant for her own life but it didn’t matter because she knew that this was her only card left and if given the chance she would do it over again because it was just the kind of person that she was.
Rot now followed, the grim reaper slowly digging its nails deeper into her core with each morning she awoke, weaker and more disoriented though Esme always did her best to hide it from everyone, even her husband at the time who grew more distant for reasons still unknown to her but she knew it would only be a matter of time before he gave up on her just as the rest of them. There was only one person that was able to smell the death in her whom questioned it immediately, Draven. The first intense love and hate was reserved for the Hellhound that couldn’t bare the sight of her yet again slipping through his grasp, promised to yet another man that would never love her the way he loved her. He kept her company those few last days, never questioning or giving her a ‘no’ for an answer though he felt obligated to treat her with delicacy, she knew deep down that there was nothing else he would rather be doing than being there for her through it all. Never knowing just how close she was to the edge.
Esme never did tell anyone that her soul had been marked, always thinking that she had more time but now she found herself in the grasps of this very demon. The room was arranged just as any ordinary living room, a black sectional covered the back wall where a huge clock set in the center. A series of photographs spread evenly along the wall, photos of a family; two girls, a mother and a father and they all seemed so happy with their even smiles. The hardwood flooring still held its beauty though it carried many years of abuse with dragged marks from tiny wheels rolling on the wood and now the home was filled with laughter from the past. The red curtains draped with odd patterns, none which she could interrupt then and sure as hell not now but her mother loved them so everyone just let them continue to hang. Esme’s childhood home, where she was birthed and raised. It was the home that held many good memories. Though after the death of her family Esme couldn’t bear spending another minute in that home which had lost the coziness, the safety she held as she walked each room in bare feet had vanished so one day she locked the door behind her and never looked back. One of the hardest things she had ever had to do but torturing herself with memories of them would have been the death of her.
Milo stood with her, he had promised that everything would be okay now, that him and Davide had struck another deal and as much as she wanted to believe that it was true, something felt so very wrong. Her instincts had spiked and she couldn’t shake that feeling.
“What deal have you and Davide agreed with?” She asked Milo, there was no muse in her words as she did her best to hide the fear brewing inside of her.
“Don’t worry about that babe, he won’t be hurting you anymore.” Milo replied with confidence in his tone, never a moment where his words quivered with doubt and it was one thing that Esme absolutely loved about this man. Always optimistic and looking at the bright things in life.
Esme reached out for him, resting her weak hands on either side of his cheeks that were covered in the gruff of beautiful blonde hair. “Pl-Please tell me that you haven’t offered your soul,” her voice broke, a deep sorrow in her heart as she spoke those words. “I won’t allow that.” Her eyes held a shine, glistened from the tears that had built up, clouding her vision and the only way to make them go away was to blink and let them fall but a blink would mean that she would miss a fraction of a second as she watched Milo and it was something that she didn’t want to do.
“I promise that wasn’t the deal, he won’t be taking my soul.” He stood straighter as his eyes flickered to the side for a moment as he replied and then back at Esme. She knew him enough to know that he was hiding something because he never had it in him to look her in the eye when he couldn’t allow himself to tell her a lie, when he was holding information.
In the background Davide set on the sectional, arms spread out and making himself quite the cozy Demon. The crooked smile that curved his lips held a menace to them, eyes full of hate yet amused by the conversation that he was allowing for them to carry on. A woman stood to his left, hands entwined behind her back and watching the couple from across the room. Her eyes never blinked and her plain expression never changed, never moved except the movement of her chest as she took in breaths. Esme had never seen her but by the looks of it she knew that this woman was important to Davide otherwise he wouldn’t be conducting business with anyone by his side, perhaps he grew wary of Esme and her unstable fire? No, Davide lacked the ability to fear anyone, that much was clear.
“Enough.” Davide spoke out, his voice roared and the room felt its tremble but it took a moment for Esme to realize that it was her that trembled. Though she hated to admit it, Davide terrified her because he was the only one that held her life on the balance at this exact moment, he could completely wipe her from the face of the earth and take her soul to Hell with a snap of his fingers. Anyone that wasn’t afraid of that had no sense of death and the unknown, lucky them.
He raised to his feet and for the very first time since their arrival the brunette beauty next to him moved, now standing behind him but her expression still potently piercing. There was an odd feeling radiating from her and not the kind to make anyone curious but the kind of feeling that would make just about anyone coward in a corner. Even as weak as Esme was at this exact instant she knew the nameless woman wasn’t anyone she would want to go up against, it would be suicidal to do so.
“You’re deal has been accepted.” When he spoke he only directed to Milo, Esme at this point was completely invisible to the Demon. “Esme will be healed, completely.”
A sigh of relieve left Milo’s lips, there were no words left in Esme to know how she felt just now. Milo took Esme in his arms, wrapping her and holding her tightly against his body as his devilish smile became more angelic. He had found a way to save her even when it wasn’t his responsibility, he managed to surprise her once more and all she could do was hold him back and let those pesky tears have their way as they left a streak of wetness behind.
“I told you that I would save you babe.” He said as he kissed the top of her head.
Esme was still speechless and the only thing she could manage was sob and in-between tears whisper a ‘I love you’.
“I ask that you step away from her now.” The unknown woman finally spoke. If the feeling being around her wasn’t odd enough, her voice brought chills to Esme, the most eerie of tones but if she would be aiding Davide in the healing of her, Esme wouldn’t question what the hell she was. Davide stood in his spot, arms rested against his chest as he crossed them and gave the woman a nod to continue.
Milo had a puzzled expression on his face but Esme nodded at him, letting him know that it would be okay to do as she asked and so without question he moved further. The woman made her way towards Esme and when she was close enough she reached into her own black suit jacket and removed a small bag; the contents weren’t exposed and this made Esme wary.
“What is that?” Esme asked with a furrow of her brow, backing away from the woman some.
“It’s your life line, sweetheart.” Sweetheart was said with a hiss, definitely no good feeling behind it, not really meaning it. “Now stay still so that I can cure you from this rotting.”
Esme nodded, no words needed for exchange. She didn’t move when the woman got even closer to her, close enough to be able to smell the soft perfume that lingered on her skin. Close enough to smell her breath yet nothing there to actually smell. Close enough to see the wrinkles that formed at each side of the woman’s eyes; swirls of a light shade of brown but they held no true life to them. A witch forced to bid the Demon’s work, that much Esme suspected. The woman poured the contents of the bag in her hand, black powder but there was a sparkle to the dust and Esme couldn’t stop staring at it as she was further struck into curiosity. The woman brought the hand to her lips and blew, the particles reaching Esme’s nostrils and with each breath she took the sweeter and intoxicating the smell became. And before Esme knew it her back was against the wall as she felt the waves of the dust coursing through her, a euphoric sensation washing over her. Her body was gaining its strength, the strength she remembered and had before she casted the spell that condemned her. Quickly she noticed that she didn’t feel as tired as she was just a few moments ago, her skin smooth as her body gained a fuller appeal. Her body didn’t hurt anymore, all the pain had vanished and if she wasn’t so enticed on the changes happening in her body she would jump in the air from the excitement.
“There.” The woman spoke again. “You’re all healed up.”
And so, Esme was. She felt alive. And it should’ve been one of the happiest moments of her life, she was healed and it meant that she could continue her life with Milo but she wasn’t so lucky. The Adrasteian Supreme was never lucky enough to have one thing go as planned, her life was full of unpredictable outcomes and this event wasn’t any different then those in her past.
With a wave of Davide’s hand, Milo was pinned to the wall and Esme snapped her head in horror as she watched. The need to fight grew strong but her body wasn’t moving and though she was screaming on the inside her mouth made no attempt to move and vocalize her horror, her pain.
Then it was her turn to be pinned against the wall, her head hitting the wall and bouncing off. It started with a trickle. It wasn’t the kind of trickle that you would hope for, it was the trickle of her hot blood escaping through the crack in her skull. Esme felt disoriented but not enough to forget that Davide and this woman had betrayed them and as much as she wanted to fight back, she couldn’t, her body completely immobilized.
How terrible to know this would be the end of your life and literally not being able to move, not even make a fucking peep!
Would it be painless? She thought to herself.
No. That was a stupid question. The woman reached her hand into the pit of Esme’s chest, tore through flesh and bone as if it were nothing, just like reaching inside a bag as her hands began to seek something. The pain was one of the worst feelings in the world that Esme had ever endured, physical pain anyway. The hand on the clock began to slow down, the ticking of the clock loud in her ears. Her breathing loud and the beating of her heart pulsed hard enough to pound from her chest to her head and it nauseated her. She wanted to make it all stop; the pounding was making her dizzy but it wasn’t truly the pounding that was making her feel sick. It was the woman as she found what she was searching for. She held Esme’s heart in her small hands, they were cold, so very cold. Esme’s body was growing colder as the woman squeezed her heart, tighter and tighter.
The look on the woman’s face was horrifying, she was enjoying this, the killing of another being but Esme didn’t want to go out with that image in her mind. It would haunt her to the afterlife if she allowed herself to only look at her just a second longer. So, her eyes roamed, searching for Milo. When they landed on him they glued themselves to him, wanting to take in every bit of him but it wasn’t until she saw the excruciating pain in his eyes that the gravity of hit her, she would die today but he would live on hating himself knowing that he trusted a Demon that shouldn’t had been trusted to begin with. That he really believed that he was saving her only to have it snatched from him in mere seconds from achieving it. The tears in her eyes welled and stung as they escaped knowing that she wouldn’t be able to save him from this experience.
Esme’s vision was distorting, darkening as they began to make their fade. Her body colder than she ever had been. It was this moment that she came to acceptance and that perhaps dying wouldn’t be such a bad thing, maybe she would be reunited with her family.
In that split second, she heard everything. Milo’s pleas, Davide’s snarl at Milo’s begging and the beating of her heart that was no longer in her chest as it was meant to be.
3…2…1… and a gasp escaped between her lips…
Esme is one of my precious beans, she has done a lot of suffering and this was her final scene as the person who she used to be. It was an extremely emotional piece because not only do I love her, but she was the first character I ever created.
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vtheobscurial · 6 years ago
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Wild Ride
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The Adventures of Er’Gak
Warnings: Very slight smut
Her hair was jet black, tresses long enough to reach her bubble shaped rear, spread out across it as if to shield it from prying eyes. It was no use, the sway to her walk caused the waving of that beautifully tamed mane and exposed the only part of her body that called out to a stranger walking behind her. Er’Gak was no exception to this rule, he was after all, a man behind the horns and the red skin. She had convinced him to follow her back to her place for what she referred to as “play time”. Though from the point of view of a stranger, he devoured her with his eyes, tongue lashing out as he licked his overly sized lips, but to him, all he had were chapped lips. He had no clue what they were walking away from the crowd for, all he wanted was a bag of nacho Doritos he saw back in a corner shop, causing a small drool to slide out from the corner of his bottom lip at the thought of sitting on some cushioned couch while he ate them.
“We’re near,” her voice was seductive as she peeked over her shoulder at him, smiling as an add-on bonus. Any man being stared at the way she stared at the demon would’ve instantly grown an erection knowing what was to come when they reached the door to her apartment. Not Er’Gak though, he was too focused on his surroundings, his eyes never seeing any other color but that of dark and gloom. The mundane world was so interesting, captivating even if he had the time to completely examine it, properly. He’d only recently arrived, let out of his cage for something other than the job he’d been assigned to do; gatekeeper of Hell. Vallmon had given him the permission to walk amongst the rest of his peers, give the world something to really be afraid of. What wasn’t expected, however, was Er’Gak attracting a daring human girl and her need to fulfill her Hentai fantasy of ‘human with demon’.
Innocently following behind her, tail wagging as he took his steps very loudly. There was a song that he hummed, not one the girl had ever heard before, but it was just a random song that he heard on the way over from the radio that was placed on the window that had been playing. He didn’t even know what it was, all he knew was that he liked the way it made his newly solid ears feel. “Mmkay,” he finally answered as they reached the door, watching her take some metal – no gold, looking instrument from her pocket and turning it in a tiny hole on the door. His enormous fingers poking at it as he heard the click, face intently on the door as it cracked open.
The girl, found it amusing as she let out an airy laughter that traveled around, bouncing against the walls and back again. “Come on in, big boy,” signaling inside, she stepped in and he did the same. Yellow glowing eyes and head moving at every direction as he took in details from the new environment. It lacked interest, he thought. Too plain for his likes.
“So what is this ‘play time’ you had in mind?” He asked as he plopped down on the couch as if it were his own. As he did so, there was a crack that erupted, it seemed the demon boy had broken the couch without meaning to. “Whoops.” Was all that he said before the girl threw on the floor her purse, kicked off her heels with a hunger painted on her expressions that made him slightly afraid. He could practically smell the lust seeping out her pores and smacking him dead in the face. In a flash, she had jumped on him and straddled on his lap. Er’Gak had no idea what it was that was happening, but her mouth was trying to eat his and he wanted out. “Wait…” his palms setting on either side of her shoulders and forcefully pushing her away from him, a weird expression given on his part, puzzled even.
“Listen big guy, just relax,” her lips went back on his and he gave no protest after. He was a gatekeeper, faced problems head on and welcomed new challenges. Though he had no idea what the fuck was happening, there was a sudden growth between his legs, and she took notice of it, brushing herself against his with a moan slipping past her lips. “That’s it,” she whispered in his ear in a breathy tone, nibbling on his earlobe as she continued to work him over. She reached down inside his pants, too large for any human man she had ever been with and worked her hand on his erection from Hell, slipping it out and exposing it to the cold air that surrounded them and guiding it between her legs while pushing to the side her lacy, skimpy underwear. Both hands were placed on his horns as her hips settled unto him and pulling him down every time she bounced on him.
Moments later, things got hot and heavy. He was on her, exploring what this woman was introducing him to. A new world of possibilities. His world, as he knew it, was exploding out of him in ways he never knew had even existed. He had never taken someone such as he took her, and even in doing so, he was at a complete loss. One thing kept him motivated, she was making sounds with each pump he gave her, encouraging him to go further and further inside of her. Losing himself in the warmth that only her slickness could offer him.
"Yoooohooo, you okay?" asked the giant red monkey as he pokes the woman laying beneath him, he noticed no movement or muffled noises coming from her infant lungs. Realization beginning to settle in his hot belly as his fingers began to trace down her porcelain, silky face. His eyes widening at the thought that crossed his mind. She was dead and he was the cause of it. "Oh shit."
* Er’Gak is a character of mine, created solely for shits and giggles while he accidentally fucks shit up. Very inspired by the Hellboy character, but definitely not him as personality and abilities vary greatly. On a very hilarious note, I’m a huge fan of the horn grabbing >.> *
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