IROÍDA

R☆ckstar☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆: Lestat halts to look over his shoulder in consideration of the walls again. Amid the horrible wallpaper, there is a sight of one thing for certain: this ugly, terrible thing called Art. The framed pieces are smudges of unintelligible inspirations that hardly could match surrealism. Strokes, strikes, illnesses, and perhaps someone's accidental paint spill; all of this depicts one thing: a mistake. Lestat groans, resuming his march.

"I don't care how much money it takes to rebook this. This is ridiculous. The photos look nothing like it, I am going to find my room and call Christine. When she finds out the conditions I am stuck into, she is going to have this entire building leveled tomorrow." Lestat announces with a defiant shake of his finger, scolding everything from walls to the padded, patterned flooring underneath his feet. It makes him sick just by looking at it.

"You've got your key? They put us in a suite. I asked for Presidential, but noooo, someone else got all the money in the world, huh?" Complaining, the rockstar approaches the closest elevator shafts, slamming the Upward button several times until it finally lights up, announcing the gradual descend of the metal cabin attached by pulleys and ropes. Leaning his shoulder against the frame of the elevator entrance, Lestat glares at their smudged reflection atop the reflective doors. He expects them to open any minute, and yet it drags and drags, until the vampire grinds his teeth, contemplating the stairs or flight, when push comes to shove.

She recognizes him, which only makes this all the more fascinating.

The demon knows why she's in a horrifically ugly, tacky hotel... but his presence here seems like more of a mystery.

"See, I wish I had someone to call who'd get shit done for me like that. I'll probably have to settle for setting the polyester curtains on fire myself and seeing how it goes, y'know?"

She snags her keycard from where it had been handily tucked in her bra, twirling it between her fingers with a flourish.

The elevator groans and stutters as it begins its descent, the time it takes seeming to get longer, and longer.

"Oh, fuck no... I need another cig already as it is." She rasps, glaring at the smudged, mirrored doors. Tacky art and migraine inducing patterns are bad enough, broken elevators feel like the biggest fuck you a multistoried hotel room is capable of.

"Stairs? Or, are we calling Christine to secure demolition early?" She tucks a chocolate cherry flavoured cigarette between her teeth, despite the no smoking signs, before holding out the carton to the other in offering.

DIALOGUE

come here, i just want you closer.

don't rush. i want to feel this.

you feel so good inside me.

i've been thinking about this all day.

tell me what you want.

you drive me absolutely insane.

i love it when you look at me like that.

don't stop, please.

i need you right here.

you're doing that on purpose, aren't you?

i can't stop touching you.

you feel perfect like this.

stay with me tonight.

i want all of you.

you make it hard to think straight.

look at me. keep your eyes on me.

i love the sounds you make.

you're being dangerous right now.

i missed you.. missed this part of you, too.

let me take my time with you.

you're warm. you're real.

i don't want this to end yet.

come closer. closer than that.

you feel like home.

don't tease me unless you mean it.

i like it when you lose control like this.

you're everything i want right now.

you're breathtaking when you're like this.

stay still, let me.

i love how responsive you are.

you're making this very difficult for me.

you don't know what you do to me.

say my name again.

can i come inside? please..

you feel even better than i imagined.

i want to hear you.

you're intoxicating.

i could touch you forever.

don't hide from me.

you're mine tonight.

you look incredible like this.

i love being this close to you.

you're shaking, i've got you.

you taste amazing.

i want you exactly like this.

i'm not letting you go yet.

you're taking me so well.

tell me if this feels good.

i love how soft you are.

breathe, you're doing so well.

i can feel your heartbeat.

i want to make you melt.

you're so beautiful it hurts.

stay right there.

i love when you get needy.

you don't have to be quiet with me.

you feel incredible under my hands.

i've wanted this longer than i'll admit.

you're all i can think about.

i want to savor you.

let me show you how much i want you.

you're making me weak.

i love being tangled up with you.

don't pull away.

i could get addicted to this.

you feel even better pressed against me.

you're driving me absolutely feral.

stay. just like that.

i love how you react to me.

i want to make you feel good.

you're mine in this moment.

you feel so right.

let me kiss you again.

you're intoxicating this close.

i love your hands on me.

you're impossible to resist.

don't stop touching me.

i love when you pull me closer.

you make me feel wanted.

i could stay like this forever.

you're everything i need right now.

i want to hear you come.

you're so warm.

let me take care of you.

i love when you relax into me.

you feel incredible against me.

i'm not done with you yet.

you're making this very tempting.

open up for me..

you're perfect right here.

i want you to remember this.

you're all mine tonight.

i love when you lean into me.

you make me ache.

don't hold back with me.

you feel amazing when you're like this.

i want to feel every part of you.

you're driving me crazy.

i love how close we are.

i don't want to stop touching you.

you're exactly where you belong.

let me feel you breathe.

you're making me lose focus.

stay with me a little longer.

you're everything i want right now.

i want you slow.

you feel incredible wrapped around me.

you're so responsive.

don't rush this.

i love when you look at me like that.

you make this feel so easy.

i want you close when you fall asleep.

you're intoxicating like this.

i love your warmth.

stay right here with me.

you make me feel wanted.

i want you to feel how much i want you.

don't go yet.

you're making me want more.

i love being like this with you.

you're everything in this moment.

let me hold you.

you feel so good against me.

i want to remember this.

you're breathtaking this close.

stay tangled up with me.

i love how you fit with me.

you're making me soft.

i want to stay right here.

don't stop touching me like that.

you're incredible.

i love how needy you get.

you feel perfect right now.

let me keep you here.

you're everything i want.

i want to make this last.

you're making me melt.

stay close.

i love your closeness.

you're intoxicating.

don't move.

i want you exactly like this.

you make me feel alive.

i love being wrapped up with you.

you're so easy to love like this.

you're everything to me right now.

i don't want to rush this moment.

you feel so right.

i want to fall asleep like this.

you're mine tonight.

ACTIONS

( fingers ) : for SENDER to lace their fingers with RECEIVER'S.

( lean ) : for SENDER to lean in until their breaths mingle.

( trail ) : for SENDER to trail their fingertips along RECEIVER'S arm.

( slow ) : for SENDER to press a slow kiss to RECEIVER'S mouth.

( waist ) : for SENDER to pull RECEIVER closer by the waist.

( body ) : for SENDER to press their body against RECEIVER'S.

( neck ) : for SENDER to nuzzle into RECEIVER'S neck.

( murmur ) : for SENDER to murmur softly against RECEIVER'S skin.

( cradle ) : for SENDER to cradle RECEIVER'S face in their hands.

( linger ) : for SENDER to linger close without speaking.

( back ) : for SENDER to stroke RECEIVER'S back slowly.

( firmly ) : for SENDER to hold RECEIVER'S firmly in their arms.

( guide ) : for SENDER to guide RECEIVER'S to their lap by the hips.

( forehead ) : for SENDER to rest their forehead against RECEIVER'S.

( sigh ) : for SENDER to sigh softly against RECEIVER'S mouth.

( cup ) : for SENDER to cup RECEIVER'S cheek gently.

( jaw ) : for SENDER to trail kisses along RECEIVER'S jawline.

( arms ) : for SENDER to wrap their arms around RECEIVER.

( tug ) : for SENDER to tug RECEIVER closer by their clothing.

( temple ) : for SENDER to press a kiss to RECEIVER'S temple.

( skin ) : for SENDER to linger with their lips against RECEIVER'S skin.

( chest ) : for SENDER to hold RECEIVER close against their chest.

( thumb ) : for SENDER to brush their thumb over RECEIVER'S lips.

( deep ) : for SENDER to kiss RECEIVER slowly and deeply.

( nudge ) : for SENDER to nudge RECEIVER closer with their knee.

( curl ) : for SENDER to curl around RECEIVER protectively.

( rest ) : for SENDER to rest their hand at RECEIVER'S lower back.

( lap ) : for SENDER to pull RECEIVER into their lap.

( collar ) : for SENDER to kiss along RECEIVER'S collarbone.

( hips ) : for SENDER to hold RECEIVER'S hips firmly.

( hair ) : for SENDER to brush hair away from RECEIVER'S face.

( press ) : for SENDER to press slow kisses along RECEIVER'S neck.

( nuzzle ) : for SENDER to nuzzle closer, seeking warmth.

( stroke ) : for SENDER to stroke RECEIVER'S thigh absently.

( still ) : for SENDER to hold RECEIVER still beneath their hands.

( kiss ) : for SENDER to kiss RECEIVER'S until they both breathless.

( trace ) : for SENDER to trace small circles on RECEIVER'S skin.

( heart ) : for SENDER to rest their hand over RECEIVER'S heart.

( brush ) : for SENDER to brush their nose against RECEIVER'S.

( wrap ) : for SENDER to wrap their legs around RECEIVER.

( hold ) : for SENDER to hold RECEIVER after climaxing.

( savor ) : for SENDER to kiss RECEIVER slowly, savoring it.

( cuddle ) : for SENDER to pull RECEIVER into a tight cuddle.

( cheek ) : for SENDER to rest their cheek against RECEIVER'S shoulder.

The appearance of character files gave him pause, just for a few beats. He slid his gaze back to Meg, an arched brow saying all he needed to say. Oh, she was cheeky. ❝ Just in case I did, hm? I see. ❞

Clark carded through the files, spread them out onto the table with the tips of his fingers. ❝ Are you thinking it's going to be a team fully comprised of our kind? Or do you have any humans mixed in? None that are... unaware, I would hope. That'd be quite the shock to them and quite the hurdle for us to juggle. ❞

But overall, they looked good. ❝ I don't see any that immediately jump out to me as a bad idea. I think it's just a matter of who you pair with who. Team comp is going to be the thing to consider here it looks like, less so the individuals. ❞ Meg had done well at gathering potential heisters.

In truth, while Meg is under no illusion that she can make Clark do anything, she had felt reasonably sure that at least some part of her plan would appeal to him.

Maybe she'd been manifesting, or whatever they're saying these days.

"Ehh, I'm not opposed to humans. I know a few who're in the know and relatively... open minded. But, most of 'em are like us. Figured it might be easier that way."

She huffs out another laugh at the idea of some poor, unassuming human thief getting dragged in to heaven and hell's drama. "Poor fucker would be in for a nasty surprise if so, hey?"

Admittedly, she's a little relieved to receive Clark's approval, here. She'd tried to think very practically about her selections, even if that wasn't always a natural instinct of hers.

The sudden pressure of Meg's fingers on her bicep sent a jolt through Azrael's being, sending ripples through her Light. Her body, which had been relaxed into the antique armchair, went rigid in an instant.

If she were capable of it, she would have been blushing, a deep, mortifying crimson that would have betrayed a complete loss of composure. Meg knew. She knew exactly which strings to pull, which buttons to press, to unravel the General of the Eighth Legion with nothing more than a touch and a promise.

Azrael was still so unused to this. To being touched without intent to harm. To being desired. To being loved. Sex was a terrifying, thrilling new world, one she was only just beginning to navigate, and Meg was her expert guide. The opium haze helped. It softened the sharp edges of her mind, quieted the constant screams of the dead, and lowered the formidable walls of her inhibitions. Her pupils, blown wide by the drug, swallowed the silver of her irises, making her eyes appear darker, softer, almost human.

She tilted her head, a slow, languid movement, and regarded Meg with half-lidded eyes that were heavy with lethargy.

She was so strong... and yet, she yielded so beautifully. Meg wasn't the kind of gal to take that for granted. Sweet, raw submission.

It came with a lot of trust, especially after all she knew that the Archangel had been through. Being vulnerable was likely unnatural to both of them.

Still, here they were.

"Mm... it's like you know exactly what I want to hear." The demon crooned, as she climbed on to the armchair, straddling her lover's lap firmly.

"Almost like you want to be mine..." Her voice grew hoarser with her own desire, her composure faltering. She couldn't resist kissing Azrael then, messy and sharp, as her hands moved to cradle her face.

Nothing outside of this space mattered right now. Nothing outside the two of them mattered.

Her vessel—slender, pale, phantom-like—betrayed no tension, because they were nothing. But she was already unravelling them, one by one. Looking beyond skin and sound and time. An easy thing to do. Their minds were facile, inebriated by years of substance abuse. The leader spoke again. A threat? A joke? It didn’t matter. She didn’t blink.

First: the one with the knife still tucked under his belt, the blade dull with old blood. Five women. Three dead. Two broken beyond words. He called it business.

Second: the one with the twitchy hands. Likes girls who scream. Pays extra to keep them locked up longer.

His soul was marked. All of them were. They thought they were men. They thought they were predators. Azrael had watched suns be born and burn out before their species had learned to walk upright. She had slain kings, entire armies and cities. She had fought the Morningstar himself. And these… these things… they thought their violence was impressive?

There it was, that familiar pulse behind her eyes. That weightless, humming pressure. The start of wrath. Not human rage, not anything as simple as that. Hers was bigger. Sharper. Incurable. Once, long ago, she had levelled cities when her temper broke. Oceans had boiled. Choirs had gone silent for centuries. Even the other Archangels feared her, not because she was strongest, but because when she was angry, she did not stop. She had sworn never to let it rule her again. And yet… she was trembling now.

A man stepped forward. Too close. His voice slurred: “What’s wrong with your face, sweetheart? You sick?”

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Her mouth was dry.

The heat in her chest was rising fast. Faster than it should. She turned slightly, just enough to see Meg beside her. The demon girl was glaring at the men, her lip curled in that beautiful, reckless way.

Azrael’s breath hitched. Meg. She stared at her, white hair falling limp around her face, silver eyes glassy with something deeper than exhaustion.

Focus on her. Not the men. Not the blood. Not the screams still echoing in the walls.

The demon felt her teeth sharpening to points in her mouth, her eyes threatening to flood to inhuman gold and black. For a moment, she was tempted to let herself loose. To bring her wrath down on these pathetic, sniveling men who thought themselves strong.

She'd done it before. She'd delighted in it. She would so enjoy a chance to do it again.

But then, feeling Azrael's eyes on her, she looked to her side. To the Archangel herself...

A shiver ran through her as she realized that, much like herself, Azrael was only moments away from decimating the lot of them. And they probably would've wished that they'd died by a demon's hand, instead, by the time she was through with them.

Meg moved, swiftly, to squeeze one of her partner's hands with her own.

"She's sick of the likes of you. Give her some room, if you know what's good for you."

The demon felt her teeth sharpening to points in her mouth, her eyes threatening to flood to inhuman gold and black. For a moment, she was tempted to let herself loose. To bring her wrath down on these pathetic, sniveling men who thought themselves strong.

She'd done it before. She'd delighted in it. She would so enjoy a chance to do it again.

But then, feeling Azrael's eyes on her, she looked to her side. To the Archangel herself...

A shiver ran through her as she realized that, much like herself, Azrael was only moments away from decimating the lot of them. And they probably would've wished that they'd died by a demon's hand, instead, by the time she was through with them.

Meg moved, swiftly, to squeeze one of her partner's hands with her own.

"She's sick of the likes of you. Give her some room, if you know what's good for you."

Clark liked to think he had a strong will, strong resolve. Maybe that had come with the territory of being what he was. Temptation tended to cancel temptation out, no? But then certain situations came along and he felt like a dog panting after a bone just out of reach. This had everything: danger and risk, it was intellectually stimulating, it was dramatic, and it was going to piss a bunch of people off. Who wouldn't be salivating over the idea of being involved?

But the rational little voice in him bellowed to take a minute and think. This did have danger and it had risk and the stakes were higher than they appeared. The heist itself wouldn't be the issue, stealing the dagger wouldn't be the big hurdle. It'd be the AFTER. Meg was right, the powers that be down in the depths of Hell would squabble and finger point for awhile, but then what? Eventually they'd collect their rotted brains enough to point those wretched fingers elsewhere.

❝ It's a bit cliché, don't you think? Sounds like a bad joke. An abomination and a demon with morals steal an Apocalyptic dagger...❞

Cool eyes slide to the mess of documents again. Who was he kidding? He already had a full foot in this, might as well step the whole way in and stop pretending he was still conflicted. He drew his hand up, pressed his thumb to his lower lip as he let himself have that last back and forth with himself. And then he clucked his tongue and exhaled the last of his hesitation in a defeated sigh.

❝ Alright, Rusty, I'm in. But I want to see your idea for a crew first. And remember, this is an auction heist. Not a casino, not a bank, not a museum. It's different. We need...❞ He gestured vaguely to the pile. ❝ We need controlled chaos. Or at least chaos I can control. Things are a bit more delicate than other heists. More crowd work, less explosions. ❞

No good would come of trying to beg and plead, and that felt pretty scummy anyway. She was coming to Clark as a friend, and as someone who deeply respected his skillset.

She'd meant it when she said there wasn't anyone she'd trust more than him with this. Or with most things.

Her lips twitched up in a playful smirk at his jab.

"Cliches have their time and place, Boss."

Even though she'd felt fairly confident that he would at least consider her proposition, Meg still felt relief flood her body when the cambion officially agreed.

"You won't regret this, Danny, I promise! And I'll make sure we only have the class acts. No one who's gonna blow our entire plan..." Reaching in to her purse, she snagged a small stack of papers with her claws, and set them down on the table.

"You're gonna be so proud of me. I brought some profiles with me. Y'know, in case you said yes."

On the top of the stack was a witch by the name of Magnus.

"This caster? They've been able to get me anything I need. Spells, charms, cursed items... and they operate on discretion. Which, I kinda figured would be priority number one."

It felt exciting, even with the potentially high stakes, to be planning a whole operation with a friend like this.

' So far this evening I have sampled the vodka and the scotch, both things I have learned to appreciate due to my comrades.'

And to avoid dwelling on those in particular the god requests the same from the bartender, allowing a sly raise of an eyebrow as he considers the woman intently.

Meg's head tilts a little, her smirk only growing with delight. There's something decidedly flattering about someone ordering the same drink, trusting one's example.

Her eyes flicker with interest at his assessment. He isn't concerned about pulling punches either. He sees her more accurately than many in his same position have. That is as terrifying as it is attractive.

"I'd say... you're a very quick study. Am I really that easy to read?" she teases, reaching over to trace small, playful circles over his forearm. An excuse for closer contact, really.

Kara’s smirk only widened, claws tapping on the sheath of one of her many knives. “We simply must make sure that even if he is returning, he can not escape, or regain any kind of strength. An eternity in a prison no one can open, where he is little more than a mindless chunk of flesh, being kept as close to death as can be managed… a temporary measure until we could end him permanently.”

Of course that wasn't exactly ideal, no matter how tempting. Death had fewer risks of escape. After all prisoners only had to get lucky once, whereas corpses could usually be trusted not to try and get back up.

Well, her father was certainly a plain example.

"And normally, I wouldn't say this, because you know how much I hate to lose... but I might have to let Grams win. if only because I wouldn't mind seeing him get turned in to a roman candle." Humour was where she drew her strength. Even when she felt the most afraid that she ever had, her sharp wit was there to fall back on.

though, she wasn't so afraid. Not now.

She wasn't alone anymore. She didn't have to prepare for Azazel's potential return all on her own.

She had her sister.

𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 -

01. avoids eye contact or looking at the floor. 02. wringing hands together in silence. 03. fidgeting with the hem of their shirt, unable to stay still. 04. looking at receiver in long silence before looking away. 05. silently leaves a folded note on the table in front of the other. 06. touches the others arm but pulls back out of guilt.

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 -

01. slams fist onto a table without saying a word. 02. exhaling sharply through their nose and clenching their jaw. 03. throws an object across the room. 04. crossing their arms tightly, digging fingers into their own skin. 05. pacing the room with heavy steps. 06. glares at the other with a clenched fist.

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 -

01. gently pushing stray hair behind the others ear. 02. resting their forehead against the others. 03. cups the others face with both hands. 04. pressing a kiss to the others forehead in silence. 05. lingering touches against the others face. 06. wraps their arms around the other from behind and rests their head on the others shoulder.

𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 -

01. wiping their eyes before someone can notice. 02. pressing their face into a pillow to muffle sobs. 03. pulls the other into a desperate hug and wont let go. 04. silently reaching for the others hand, needing comfort. 05. walks into the room with red-rimmed eyes and no words.

𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 -

01. spins the other around without warning in a hug. 02. links arms with the other and tugs them along happily. 03. provides the other with a handmade gift. 04. tackles the other in a sudden and joyful hug. 05. kisses the others cheek unexpectedly and grins.

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫 -

01. backing away slowly and looking for exits. 02. hiding behind the other and peeking around. 03. flinches at sudden movement from the other. 04. presses their back against the wall with eyes darting around the room. 05. jumps at a noise and instinctively grabs the others hand.

𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

01. tucks a blanket gently around the other person's shoulders. 02. applies a bandage with slow and deliberate care. 03. brings them food and water and watches to ensure they eat. 04. runs fingers through their hair in efforts to soothe. 05. rubs soothing circles on the others back while they cry. 06. stays silently by the others side in support without saying a word.

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠