Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
So when the thought for this prompt hit me, all I could think of was ballroom.
Then I thought Beauty and the Beast.
And then I thought corrupt muses. And now here I am, serving this for anyone who wishes to enjoy it.
Wishing you all have a safe and fun October, my dear customers! â
âThe first time I saw you, I thought you were a princess out of a fairy tale.â
Renâs voice flows into your mind as you look up into a face that, to you, looks like God took a hammer and a chisel to a slab of stone, and produced his face as a result of His handiwork. Itâs a face you recognize, a face youâve become so terribly and deeply well-acquainted with.
Itâs his face; Renâs visage is staring back at you. A soft smile curls his lips; thereâs a flash of white as he bares his perfect teeth to you in a small, fiendish grin. Itâs his face, Renâs face, down to the masculine curve of his jaw, to each frizzy lock of his hair thatâs as dark as the night sky, and itâs him, him, him whoâs staring at you.
Or at least it would have been him had it not been for a few tiny details: his eyes and his clothes. You recognize that hue of blue that possesses Renâs eyes when heâs happy, but for a moment and only a moment, thereâs a flash of gold shimmering in his gaze. Gone is the leather clad âselfâ of Ren youâve come to know as Joker while heâs in the Metaverse; gone are the crimson gloves youâve come to be so terribly, wonderfully familiar with; gone is the white and black domino, bird-like mask; gone is the telltale smirk that once possessed his mouth, a pair of lips that you long to feel against yours once again.
In place of RenâsâJokerâsâleather tailcoat is a uniform that vaguely gives you vibes of a general in the military meeting, strangely, a cross between a general and a fictional prince charming. Midnight blue and gold embroidery, in the form of a snake, winding around the sleeve is in your peripheral vision; a black silk tie, a folded collar, and a wolf mask greets you when you look up, staring into his face.
Again, your eyes linger a few moments longer on RenâsâSatanaelâsâmouth than you mean to, and you donât miss the corner of his lips quirking up, clearly amused. If only to relive memories that are like a passing dream to you now⌠If only to remind yourself of simpler times, of happier days⌠You watch as his back curves, dipping as he bows to you while having a hand is held out. A silent offer for you to take; a quiet offer he is willing to take, with or without your say-so.
âMay I have this dance?â Your eyes peer out from the slits in the mask youâre wearing. You blink slowly; your lips purse as you frown. He sees it and you know that he can see it, but you canât bring yourself to care about that right now.
Begrudgingly, you raise your hand, noting with a listless glare how the corner of his mouth tilts up a bit, showing off a bit more of his pearly whites. Heâs amused; heâs pleased. Heâs watching, watching as your hand continues to rise until, finally, your palm, your fingers are resting in his hand. And now you return the favour: you watch as the hand heâs holding, your hand, is raised to his lips. A slow kiss thatâs so faint, so light that you shouldnât be able to feel it but you do, is pressed to your knuckles.
âThen shall weâŚ?â
It takes you all but a second to realize what heâs talking about. Your suspicions are confirmed when his free hand is raised, taking your other one in his possession. You follow suit by raising a hand, resting it on RenâsâSatanaelâsâshoulder and, once more, youâre graced with an obvious but teasing hint of a smile from him. A hum tickles at the back of his throat, and thereâs a gentle shimmer in his gaze as he looks down at you.
For a moment and only a moment, your mind paints you a picture of a caged lion, the king of beastsâ ire soothed only by the calming strokes of the watching over him through the glass window that is his safe place, but also his prison. It suits the corrupt demon lord surprisingly well. You remember his grand entrance all too well: you remember how he descended from the skies with a grace that wasnât of this world; you remember the way the barrel of his gun, and Renâs gun, shone as they both pointed at a false god; you remember thinking how beautiful the pair looked as that very fake deity was toppled off of its throne, a throne carved from foolâs gold.
You remember thinking that perhaps, the world would be okay, so long as Ren and your friends, your fellow Phantom Thieves and their confidants, were there to make sure that your sacrifice wouldnât be in vain. You remember feeling glad to leave the world, feeling pride pricking at you as you remember taking a hit meant for Joker. You remember your vision fading to black. You remember your allies calling out to you, but no voice was more clear than Renâs.
And then you woke up.
Naturally, logic was quick to smack upside the head right then and there, when your eyes fluttered open and you were staring up at the ceiling of your room. You werenât staring up into the worried faces of your friends; you werenât staring up into a sky of pure black. You werenât succumbing to your injuries; you werenât dying.
You wereâand areâvery much alive. As if what had happened hadnât taken place. But your memories, they mock you. Your recollection of the past year is laughing at you as you continue staring up into a visage looking back at you, forever sneering at you with its awful, wonderful familiarity.
âYou are myâourâmost treasured darling. You are ours, whether you wish to be or not.â
Thereâs no escape for you now.
There never was a way out.
Kare had little idea of what sort of fate befallen Conrad ever since their last time seeing each other. It was known that the vampire had secluded himself in some kind of research at a point, it was only then that it seemed as if any contact had dropped off the map entirely.
This was the last situation that Kare probably would have expected to see him...nor would he ever expected to see Conrad like this most of all. Before Conrad's feet laid the corpse of what was once a human hunter, the blood that covered them both made it apparent that not only was there a small fight between them, but the corrupted vampire managed to also make more than a meal out of the other.
Though in the same notion, he was a bit disappointed that he couldn't keep the hunter alive to use for a possible experiment later. But at least he got rid of one pest that was trying to kill him at the time.
That was until someone seemed to have spotted him, taking a look to see a rather familiar individual before him.
"Nothing, I simply had to defend myself from another threat." He stated coldly, not finding this to be of any concern at all as who was once his friend stood before him. "You would have done the same thing if you were hunted."
Seth sighed. This was starting to become frustrating to him, but he wouldn't stop. He had already read on the method of disposal for Corrupted, but he wanted to find a cure. He had to find one. This latest test he came up with was a potion. Something that brings memories back. "Alright Isabelle, are you ready for today's testing?"
{ @vulcan-and-the-mighty-muses }â
Isabelle sat curtly on the seat provided for her, her hands clasped on her lap, one long glove going up her left arm while she wore a rather plain dark blue dress. Her coal-black eyes looked up towards Seth when he came back, holding what seemed to be a potion this time. She disregarded the thought of how she once was a potion apprentice and gave a polite smile. It was a slow process, but she seemed to be making headway in the subtle manipulation tactics she had been implementing, as was evident by how tired he seemed to be. âI am ready, yes, but you seem a bit tired. Is everything alright?â she feigned concern.Â
  Hunk glared at his companion. As he intimidated the prisoner before them, âYou need to stop now.â He clasped his hands on Lanceâs shoulders; yanking him back. Clearly annoyed with him, âWeâre already in trouble for NOT bringing this prisoner in one piece! What is wrong with you?!â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
So over a month ago, I did a poll on twitter on which character people liked the most in the fashion pics, and these were the winners! Maybe I'll draw the others another time~
Drake harshly propelled a rock that had been in his way flying into the air, letting out his frustration by punting said stone. He lets out an angry gruff and shoves his hands into his pockets. He was in an extremely irritable mood; getting into a fight with anyone always put him in such a mood if he wasnât the one who blatantly asked for one, but getting into quite a nasty fight with Fiona made it 10x worse. Disagreements always came due to their two conflicting personalities and beliefs, but this fight had been quite nasty.
It only started by an innocent question that was asked by Fiona: âWhatever happened to your family?â Of course, she had asked this multiple times before that one, and Drake always politely declined to talk about it. He wasnât ready to talk about the disappearance of his father and how he yearns to see him again yet wishes he was dead, and the passing away of his mother and how he wishes he could have done more for her was a sore topic...
...the death of his brother and how much it was his fault was the worst one, though.
Usually, the fairy would just groan and ask again with a bit of persuasion, but eventually, understand and leave it. Yet, this time, she didnât drop it. She continued persisting, and it irked the dragon no matter how much he tried to suppress his annoyance. Why couldnât she just drop it? He had already told her why he couldnât answer; he just wasnât comfortable nor emotionally able to, and she would always understand, so why didnât she this time?Â
He knew there was a sort of glint in her eyes, a shine that he felt himself wanting to describe as desperation, but why would that be the case? What had happened? He found himself wanting to ask, but for some reason, he couldnât bring himself to. Instead, he continued to refuse her begging, which, for some reason, frustrated her.
She started yelling, and Drake immediately frowned when she did, feeling frustration start to build in himself due to her raised voice. One thing led to another, and the two had started screaming towards each other. Harsh words were exchanged:
âWHY CANâT YOU JUST TELL ME?!â
âWHY THE FUCK DO YOU WANT TO KNOW?!â
âBECAUSE I JUST WANNA KNOW ABOUT YOUR BROTHER AND WHAT YOU THINK OF HIM!â
During the argument, she had started shifting her question from family in general to specifically his brother, and that only made emotions well up in his chest until he exploded.
âWELL HEâS DEAD OKAY?!? I FUCKING KILLED HIM AND HEâS DEAD!! IS THAT THE ANSWER YOU WANT?!?â
And that was it. Silence. He had said it, and boy did he fucking regret it when he did.
He couldnât remember what her reaction had been, what kind of horrified, disgusted face she must have made when she finally learned the truth. He had immediately bolted out the house when he did, not even looking back as tears of frustration, guilt, grief, and anger welled up in the corner of his eyes. His chest hurt with the amount of these mixed feelings he kept in his heart, and though it had considerably faded away now, he still could feel traces of grief, guilt, and frustration still lingering in him.
It did take quite a bit of time for the pent-up emotions he had suddenly released to finally cease lingering in his chest. Drake lets out a rather loud sigh and finally stops trudging his feet through the foliage to give him some time to actually register where the fuck he was. His eyes scanned his forest surroundings, butâŚhe couldnât find any inch of it familiar. He had taken walks here and there in the forest that encompassed the circle of land that had been left out from the four kingdoms, but never this deep (plus he hadnât really registered in his head where he actually headed).
So, letting out yet another tired sigh, he wandered around the forest for some kind of familiarity, his hand clamping around the red jewel pendant around his neck every now and then.Â
He probably wandered for quite a number of hours as the next time he looked up at the sky, it was littered with faintly shining stars with the moon being overcast by gray clouds. He had stormed out of the house when the sun was still high up in the sky, surrounded by shades of blue rather than the dark violet-black that enveloped the night sky now. The dragon lets out another sigh and runs a hand through his hair, feelings of regret now bubbling up from the bottom of his chest as his fingers brushed against his two draconic horns. He probably shouldnât have run so far away from their home like that. He wondered if Fiona or Isabelle or Neville were looking for him, if they actually cared that he hadnât been back yetâŚ
Drake rustles through his pockets before pulling out the communication device that Neville had handbuilt for him. He tried to tap the screen a couple times, but it didnât even show a flicker of life. The dragon groaned at his luck; the communicator was dead; out of battery, to be exact, though to be fair, he didn't think he would be able to reach anyone with how thick the foliage around him was. He vaguely remembered Neville talking about invisible waves that could be interfered through thick foliage or some shit like that.
He grumbled curses under his breath before shoving the device back into his pocket. Welp, he really was on his own now. How was he going to get back??
He felt frustration well up from the bottom of his heart as he realized that his surroundings all looked the goddamn same; how was he supposed to find a familiar path? Was he ever gonna get back home? âFuck!â He suddenly shouts, sloppily picking up a rock and throwing it as hard as he could in his forward direction. It flew with an incredible speed , disappearing between two trees, and Drakeâs eyes widen when he could see just a speck of sunlight flicker when the stone goes between the two trees. Confused but carrying a small spark of hope, he cautiously walked towards the trees and made his way between them.
The sight that greeted him once he passed the two trees left the dragon quite speechless. Right in front of him was a huge empty circle of nothing but grass and a few flowers here and there. It felt like a natural field, but also not; it was as if someone had cut down the foliage to create a circular clearing many years ago, only letting some flowers to grow back.
However, that wasn't the only thing that made him completely speechless.
Right in the very middle of the circular field was a statue, a stone statue of a person. A...woman, he thinks? Cautiously, Drake approached the statue, curiosity getting to him but his instincts also flaring up and warning him not to be too careless. He had never seen this field before, and a statue in the middle of it seemed really suspicious, especially if it was a person.
As he approached the statue, he was able to make out more and more details about the statue; judging by the long hair that he could mistake as gray silk and the somewhat curvy physique of the statue, the dragon was fairly sure he could say this statue depicted a woman. She seemed to be wearing a flowy dress, the sleeves of the article of clothing drooping from one of her arms, which was outstretched in...a defensive position? The hairs on Drakeâs neck stood up as he felt his instincts remind him once more that something wasnât right. There was something very wrong with this place, but Drake couldnât help but feel his curiosity overtake the cautious part of him as he got closer to the statue, though he did resist the temptation to touch it when he got close enough for his fingers to brush against the smooth stone of the statue, and only then did he obey his instincts on not touching an unknown, sketchy statue.
He did, however, walk around towards the front of the statue to get a better look at it. He wanted to know why this woman had her arms outstretched with one hand looking as if it was trying to shield her face while the other was tilted slightly behind her back, as if it--she hadnât been given enough time to move towards her face before she was turned to stone.
Wait, what?? This  was a statue of a woman, not a woman turned into a statue...right? âNo, no, it couldnât possibly be--â he starts to think as he finally catches sight of the womanâs face, but just a few seconds later, his face drops its nervous, cracked grin and turns a pale shade.
He had seen this face before, he knows whose face this resembles. Okay, more accurately, he had never actually seen seen this person before, but he recognized her, from the similarity. âNo, it couldnât possibly be, thereâs no way--â he tries to somehow rationalize his realization by speaking his thoughts out loud, trying to play it down and say heâs wrong, but he knew that he wasnât wrong, not in this assumption. He knows this face, even if heâd never seen her in person.
Well, he guessed he was seeing her in person now. He turned his head back towards the thick trees. He had to go back now. He needed to tell them this, he needed to tell Isabelle--
âOh my, arenât you a good one~â Before he could do anything, however, a distorted voice with an almost echo-y sort of tone to it reverberated through the air, making Drakeâs instincts flare up almost immediately, his stance changing to a defensive one as his lips curled into a snarl. His draconic pupils turned into even thinner slits as he turned his head side to side.
âWho was that!?â he growled, eyes darting all over the place, trying to find the source of the voice. âWho the fuck are you?!â His voice slightly echoes across the clearing, but the only response he got was bone-chilling giggles, the sound dissonant and distorted. Drake found himself rather frustrated by the fact that the noise bounced off the trees and thereby made it untraceable, though that didnât stop him from frantically searching his surroundings.Â
He was searching so thoroughly, yet he was caught completely off guard when something heavy and firm suddenly clamped  around his wrists and ankles and shoved him downwards, forcing him into a kneeling position. He winced at the sudden force and struggled against them, his eyes darting behind him to see what had caught him. He frowned heavily and gritted his teeth as he saw clamp-like handcuffs dyed a pure black chaining both his wrists and his ankles together. He turned his back and wildly searched the clearing for any signs of life. âWho the fuckâs there?!? Show yourself, you bastard!â he yelled out into the forest, not only wanting to fight whoever just fucking chained him, but also, perhaps, someone might hear him and help him. Maybe Fiona and the others were looking for him and could hear him...yeah right.
âNow, now, you donât have to yell so loud~â a distorted voice giggled, and Drake snapped his head to his right, only for the voice to reappear right in front of him. âIâm right here, after all~â The dragon snapped his head towards the voice, his eyes growing wide as he looked up at the person who had him restrained. They were wearing a robe of sorts, one that Drake would assume was one of a wizardâs but...he wasnât so sure. After all, this person...their skin was a pitch black color, resembling that of coal, or ash. Their hair was an even darker shade of black, and then, their eyes...what should have been white scleras were now a soulless black, and the only thing that he could see in there were a pair of white pupils. He couldnât tell if they were a girl or a boy, and honestly that was the thing he cared about least at the moment, because this person wasâŚ
âA CorruptâŚâ he breathed. He had only heard of them in stories, tales, history books. There havenât..there shouldnât be any more Corrupts, not since The Purge 50 years ago⌠The Corrupt seemed to know what he was thinking of as a wide grin curled onto their lips, a rather...unnerving one, really.
âOh, but I donât look very dead, do I~?â they giggled before leaning closer. âNow, since youâre here and all, letâs look into that little head of yours, shall we~?â they purred before they grabbed a fistful of Drakeâs hair and pulled it up towards them, making him yelp in pain. He started to violently thrash in their grasp, yet to no avail. Whatever clamps these were that were holding him down was considerably strong, and even trying to summon his fire did nothing and melt it did nothing. Was it not made of metal? âWonât you look at me, pretty boy..?â They tugged rather harshly on his hair, and Drake had no choice but to look forward. He opened his eyes and gave them the most intimidating glare he could, his red eyes absolutely burning with a raging fire, yet that flame seemed to flicker when they caught sight of their eyes. His eyes widen as they looked into their bright white pupils, unnerved from the way both of their scleras were dyed a pitch black, yet he found himself unable to look away for a good few seconds, entranced by their almost flashing white pupils before he caught himself and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, Â thrashing in their grip once more.
âFuck-- what did you just do?!â he snapped, opening his eyes to glare at them once more, though this time he made sure not to look into their eyes again. They laugh, and it sounds quite sickening to the dragon.
âJust learning more about you, dear~!â they chirp. âAnd now that I know more about youâŚâ They leaned forward, and Drake almost immediately recoils from them, his teeth grinding together in anger and frustration. Why couldnât he get the fuck out of these restraints?!
âArenât you just tired of all these memories weighing you down? Weighing down on your potential?â they ask all of a sudden, and Drakeâs eyes widen at the words that escaped their lips, the resistance he had slipping for just a moment before he caught himself, letting out a curse under his breath before he started to squirm once more, though it was considerably less so than just a few moments ago. That question they just asked somehow caught his entire attention. It was like, he could feel their words justâŚinfecting his mind and thoughts. His brain felt like it was beginning to turn into mush, and their words started to echo throughout his mind until his surroundings dissipated and his thoughts faded away until all he could think about was their question. Was it because he looked into their eyes?!
âMy...memories..?â he mutters, his mind blanking for a quick moment before he caught himself and shook his head. âFuck, what are you doing to me?!â Drake snarled at them, baring his sharp draconic teeth.
âI'm not doing anything my dear,â the voice purrs, leaning closer to the struggling dragon, âyou're just agreeing with me, aren't you?â they whisper quietly into his ear, making Drakeâs draconic eyes widen, his head fogging up once more before he shook his head again and headbutted the person.
âStay the fuck away from me you creep!â he shouts at them, still continuing to struggle under their weird black smoke restraints. They groan and hold their head before glaring at Drake.
âAll you dragons are the same,â they spit, and for a moment Drake thought he heard the distortion in their voice grow. âAlways violence and stubbornness!â They suddenly disappear in a puff of black smoke, Drake momentarily confused before they suddenly appear right in front of him. His eyes widen and before he could react, the Corrupt suddenly kicks him right in the stomach. Drake doubles over and gasps as the air is knocked out of him, leaving him vulnerable enough for them to grab onto his black red-tipped horns. The dragonâs eyes dilate with shock and he feels a shiver of disgust run down his spine before he thrashes in their grip.
âLet me fucking go!!â he roars at them, their touch feeling absolutely disgusting to his sensitive horns, immediately enraging him as he thrashed against their hold. âLet me go god fucking dammit!â
âFull of colorful language, aren't we?â They chuckle and smirk, their black-skinned hands not even budging as they wrapped their fingers tightly around his horns. âMaybe that's one of the only things I like about dragons; they don't give up without a fight, and yetâŚâ They brush their nails against his hornâs smooth exterior, forcing Drake to let out a choked sound that resembled a mix of a growl and a whimper. âTheir weakness is so obvious and so effective.â Drake looks up at them and gives the angriest glare he could, his lips forming a scowl that showed his sharp teeth being ground together.
âJust relax a bit,â they coo, ignoring the harsh glare Drake was throwing their way, continuing to brush their hands up and down his horns, âit feels so good, doesn't it little dragon?â Another faint whimper/growl mix escapes his lips. Their touch was making him feel so tired, which was really odd; he knew for a fact that his horns always reacted negatively when strangers or people he didn't want touching them come into contact with them, and he definitely was not okay with this, so why were they able to induce this level of relaxation and warmth in him when they were a combo of both?
âWhat...what are you doing..to meâŚ?â he struggles to growl and say, his head feeling increasingly heavy and his consciousness waning. His surroundings were fading in and out, and he felt like he was going to black out soon. The dragon struggles to both keep his eyes open and to fight whatever spell the Corrupt was casting over him.
âJust relax,â they croon, rubbing their blackened thumbs over his horns. The dragon could feel something, something that couldnât be described but was still something flowing from their hands into his horns. He tries to struggle against them for just a few more seconds, his whole body shaking as he tried to struggle against the spell. However, after a few more moments, his body forcibly slumped in fatigue, his red eyes draining of light and becoming a dull maroon color as he felt his consciousness wane and put him in a half-awake state. âThatâs it! Good dragon,â the Corruptâs lips curl with a bright smile and they compliment the dragon. âNow, Iâll ask again, arenât you just tired of all these negative emotions you feel because of only your memories?â Their words start to slip into Drakeâs mind and settle in there, the woozy dragon slowly bobbing his head up and down to give a nod.
âYes..so tiredâŚâ he murmurs, his voice drowsy. He was truly tired of feeling all the guilt that hits him like a punch to the face whenever he sees or hears something that can merely remind him of his sins. He was tired of all the nightmares and waking up empty and wishing to die. He hadn'tâ thought of it until they pointed it out, but he was now convinced that, like this person said, he had so much potential, but he was being held back by his memories of the past.
âDonât you want to be freed from your memories? Freed from all your restraints from the past? Become whoever you want to be without any guilt from your past to hold you back?â They continue to ask, leaning more and more forward as they continue speaking. Drakeâs eyes were still dull and his body still slumped forward before he gave one slow nod.
âYesâŚâ he murmured, everything feeling fuzzy and blurry. He did want it...to not be restrained..to be free⌠Why wouldnât he want that..?
He didnât see the way their eyes lit up and their grin turn into a wide smirk. âThen I can seal them for you~ So that you can be free, young dragon, but at one costâŚâ They bring a finger to brush against the underside of Drakeâs chin, the dragon still too out of it and under their spell to react. âYou will be under my command as payment. But think about it, if you agree, youâll be free, free from your restraints, the restraints made by your memories...donât you want that, little dragon?â
âYesâŚâ Drake murmured, nodding to their question. He did, he did want it. They chuckled and couldnât hold back the malicious smirk that curled onto their lips.
âVery well~...â They bring a hand down towards his neck, their white pupils glinting as they reach for the ruby-red pendant hanging from Drakeâs necklace. âThen, with this precious necklace of yours, you shall be mine.â
Drakeâs fingers twitched slightly at their words. His...necklace? His necklace...that was given to him by... his mother⌠His eyes widened, the light suddenly returning to them before he let out a loud growl and smacked his head against theirs once more just as they tried to touch it, fire welling up in his throat. He wasnât supposed to use fire against other people, is what he was always taught, but this was self defense. Hot, bright red fire spewed from his lips onto the Corrupt, who screeched in pain as their head was burnt, recoiling from him. âDonât you fucking dare touch that, you piece of shit!â he yelled, baring his teeth as he found his resistance once more. They angrily glared at the dragon, their white pupils piercing into the dragonâs own. Their hand was over the side of their head that had been burned, which was now a tangle of eery black smoke and a black liquid that dripped down their eyes and face.
âIâM suRPRised YOu SNaPPed OUT of iT,â they growl, their voice a cacophony of echoes that hurt Drakeâs ears a bit. âIâm aFRAID yOuâRE tOO LaTE, hOweVER.â Before Drake could even respond to his words, they suddenly dashed forward in a blur of black smoke, gripping his chin harshly and forcefully jerking his head forward. The dragon let out a sharp groan of pain before his eyes blew wide open as the smoke that had surrounded them started to become absorbed into him.
He gasps and cries out in pain as he could feel the black smoke physically crawl into his skin. It hurt, it was like pure acid was crawling through his skin and attacking his insides. His mouth hung open as he gasped for air to somehow relieve him of the pain. He struggled in the black smokeâs grasp, his eyes trailing down and widening to the size of plates at the sight before him. The tips of his fingers were becoming stained with a pitch-black color. He could feel panic and panic and regret intensely grow inside of him as the blackness crept its way to his wrists and then made its way to his forearms. He tried to thrash and struggle, but he could already tell that he was losing consciousness, the edges of his vision filling with black spots. But he didnât stop struggling, he couldnât. If he didnât, heâd..heâd forget everything.
How? How could he have wanted to forget all of his memories? Sure, he definitely had traumatic memories for most of his life, but he didnât want to forget the many great ones he had recently received, especially the people whom he had made them with.
He wasnât going to remember Isabelle and how caring she was to him. He wasnât going to be able to finally tell her how much he appreciated her for being like a sister to an asshole like him, or comfort her like she did to him. She was always better than him in almost every single way, and he wasnât going to be able to tell her that.
And there was Neville; gods, he wasnât going to remember his sheer determination for things that Drake wished he had, as well as just how courageous he actually fucking was when he truly put his heart to it.
There was Seth too, he wasnât going to remember him and his innocence and just how much of a little brother he was to him.
He was even going to fucking miss Andrew and his sister/lover of all damn people, because even if he himself couldnât understand why, he found himself wanting to discover the good side to him that he thought he had in him, though he didnât know why he thought that.
Admya, gods, fucking gods, he wasnât going to remember her, he wasnât going to remember her kindness, her warmth, her smile, her laugh, her motherly side, her love, everything she meant to him and more.
And then there was Fiona.
There were so many things he could think of her that heâd miss, but the one that stood out of everything in his whirlwind of memories was just, heâd miss her. Everything she is to him, to everyone around her. Her cheerfulness, her kindness, her sincerity. Everything that made her Fiona. Everything that he grew to like about her. He was going to forget it all.
Gods, fuck fuck fuck--
--Not her. He couldnât forget her. He felt a surge of panic and regret well up inside him at the thought. There were so many things about her that he never ever wants to forget. Her hair, her eyes, her smile, her cheerfulness, her determination, her endurance, her bravery, her kindness, her sincerity--everything that she is. Everything that he grew to like about her, he couldnât, he just--
Not her.
âIâm so sorry.â
He didnât know who he was saying that to, but he probably thought it was for everyone that he knew. He was sorry for succumbing to this, for not being strong enough to fight it. Heâd take it back if he could, gods did he wish he could. But he couldnât, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Drake could hear them cackle just as he felt tears prick the corner of his eyes. he felt so weak, so vulnerable, and that only made the weak fire in his stomach spark, but it could only do that: spark. It couldnât burn into a brighter fire, nor could it help him out of this mess. He knew that, and he knew that he still had a minute piece of pride left in him, but there was something stronger and more valuable to him than his draconic sense of pride.
âPlease,â he begs to the person before him, the tone of his voice low and pleading. a tone he had never used even once in his life, not to this extent. âLet me go, I canât...â
âYou canât what?â they ask, a wicked smirk painted on their lips. They definitely were enjoying having a dragon beg for mercy.
âI canât lose my memories of my friends,â he whispers, biting back all of his instincts that were screaming at him not to do this. His instincts made it so that he had a sense of pride, but to him, his heart had a stronger priority than his instincts. At least, thatâs what he wanted to believe right at that moment.
âHmm, let me think about it...â they tap their chin in thought for a mere second before glancing at Drake with a broad smirk. âHow about NO?â Their eyes turned a pitch black without a hint of light. They let out a malicious cackle of laughter as a spear that looked like it was made of pure shadows accumulated in their hand. The dragonâs face paled and he desperately thrashed with the shadow-like material that was binding him. âPlease, itâs USELESS,â the Corrupt laughed. They then held up their spear, the ash-black tip of the weapon aimed right at his pendant. âNow..â they purred, their wicked grin curling back on their face. A weak whimper escaped Drakeâs lips from the bottom of his throat. âSomeone, anyone, please...â he begged in his mind, his mouth too frozen with fear to actually enunciate his pleading.Â
âSay GOODBYE.â
Before Drake could even blink, the Corrupt struck their spear right through his pendant as well as his chest. He let out a voiceless gasp as he felt a sudden surge of pain before his body went cold and his vision was flooded with darkness. As his conscious quickly faded away, so did his regret, even though he tried to hold on to it in the midst of hearing their laughter.
He couldnât forget Fiona.
He couldnât forget her.
Not her.
Not her.
Not..her...
Not...
.....................
~âŚď¸âŚď¸âŚď¸âŚď¸~
A boy looked down at a nearby puddle of water with curiosity. He had woken up in an unknown forest with no memory of how he had gotten there in the first place. In fact, he didnât seem to have a recollection of anything at all. Â
He looked down at the puddle with curiosity. A face was reflected back at him, a face where the right side of it was an ashy black, the sclera of his right eye matching in color. Both eyes were a bloody red, though, and horns that protruded from his pitch-black hair was also the same shade of black with no speck of another color even peeking. It was a face that he knew was his, though he..didnât really realize immediately that it was his own. The realization that he found himself without recollection of any kind left him not scared but actuallyâŚpleased. However, when he saw something glint in the reflection of the puddle, he realized that there was one thing that he remembered, if only slightly.
His necklace, with a pendant that gleamed a charcoal-black. It was a contract now, a voice in his head told him. A contract that stated that he was to follow His Masterâs will and command, to which the boy immediately found himself complying with. He wasnât sure why, but he just felt soâŚdelighted to have no memories, to be free without any chains of guilt or grief or sadness to hold him back. This Master of his even gave him a new name, one that he could use to shed him of his former self and use in order to be thought of as a whole new person.
âFrom now on, your name is âRyuuâ. Do you accept this name?âÂ
A smirk slowly formed onto the boyâs lips. âI do, Master,â he happily agrees, standing up from his crouched position. âRyuu..I accept it.â As he gets back into a standing position, he peers back down to his reflection and clicks his tongue as he ran a hand through his jet-black hair, which did nothing to hide the half of his ash-black face and his inverted eye, which looked pretty out of place compared to the other half of his face. âIâm gonna have to change my hairstyle, huh..â He mused out loud before shrugging, laughter tinged with insanity bubbling up from his throat and flowing through his lips. âWho cares! That actually benefits me. I could make it grow as long as I want, or as short as I want! Because nowâŚâ
â...Iâve got no memories to hold me back.â
As the newly Corrupt dragon let out another hysterical laugh, a shadow watched from the distance, a wide, maniacal smirk curled onto their lips as they looked to the small, circular device in his hands, which started to light up and function.
