#so yeah!

The office starts to quiet down, a steady hum of printers and keyboards thinning into silence as employees pack their bags and slip out for the evening. You remain at your desk, the glow of the monitor reflecting across your tired eyes. Your reports are neat and organized, like everything you’ve worked hard to prove since you first started here. It’s late, but you don’t mind. Staying late has become a habit, a way to show your dedication. And maybe, if you admit it to yourself, it’s also a way to keep yourself within her line of sight.

Billie Eilish. CEO.

Her attention, when it lingers on you, is dangerous. You’ve noticed it, at least you think you have. When she stops by to review a file on your desk, she doesn’t just glance at your work. Her eyes drag slowly over the paper, then over you the same way, as though committing every detail to memory. When you stammer in response to her sharp and low voice, offering her criticism, you notice her mouth curves up, giving you a cocky smirk.

It’s impossible to hide the way you look at her. You know it. Everyone probably knows it. You’ve caught yourself staring when you should be working, multiple times. A crush doesn’t even begin to describe it, it’s an ache, a longing. You know she is your boss, but she feels like something more taboo than that.

You blink back at the computer in front of you, forgetting what you were even doing in the first place, and you think about packing up for the day when the sound of heels cuts through the silence. You stiffen before you even turn towards the unmistakable sound. She’s here still? Your eyes meet hers as you look up towards the direction of the sound, her dark suit tailored close to her frame, blouse just unbuttoned enough to show a sliver of her fair skin. Her hair frames her face in a loose, intentional mess. Her pale blue eyes lock on you through her glasses, taking in your exhausted expression.

“You’re still here.” Her voice is smooth and low, carrying the weight of unspoken expectation, but it’s not really a question.

“I… I was just finishing up,” you answer, too quickly and slightly breathless. The flush on your cheeks betrays you, as always.

She tilts her head, assessing you silently, making the seconds drag on as you hold your breath. She’s reading you, dissecting you, and your heart pounds harder in your chest. Then her lips curve, just slightly.

“Come to my office.”

There’s no room for refusal, no hesitation in her tone. It’s a command. She turns, not bothering to check if you’ll follow, because of course you will. You rise from your chair, legs unsteady and heart hammering.

Billie leans against the edge of her desk as you step inside, closing the door behind you with a quiet click. Her gaze stays on you, pinning you in place, like she’s already decided what comes next.

“Sit,” she says.

You sit down in the chair opposite of her desk, trying to look calm when every nerve in your body feels wired and hot. The leather is cool under your palms and on your thighs, but it doesn’t ground you. Not when Billie is standing right there, perched casually against her desk, arms folded like she has all the time in the world.

Her eyes drag over you, steady and unhurried. You’ve never been so aware of the silence between words, or the way her presence seems to fill the entire room.

“You’ve been working late a lot,” she says finally, her voice smooth and soft, more so an observation than small talk. “Most people can’t wait to get out the door at five.”

“I… I just want to make sure I’m keeping up,” you say quickly, fingers twisting together in your lap. “There’s still a lot I don’t know, and I don’t want to—”

“You don’t want to disappoint me.” The corner of her mouth twitches. “Is that it?”

Your breath stumbles, caught in your throat. You blink at her, flustered, and then nod. “Well, yes, I… I guess so.”

Billie leans forward slightly, and you swear the air shifts, suddenly feeling heavier somehow. “You’ve done more than enough already. I notice things, even when people think I don’t.”

The admission makes your chest tighten. Your pulse beats like a drum in your ears, and you try to answer with something polished, something professional, but all you manage is a clumsy, “That means a lot. Thank you.”

Her eyes narrow, amused. “You’re easy to read, you know.”

Your stomach flips. “What do you mean?”

She tilts her head, studying you again with a slowness that makes heat climb up your neck, the pink shade apparent on your cheeks. “Most of this office keeps their faces blank, emotionless, just going through the motions of work. But you?” She lets the pause linger, savoring it as you hold your breath. “You wear your thoughts right here.” She taps her own cheekbone lightly.

The realization lands heavy, and your words come out rushed, your blush impossibly deepening. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

Billie cuts you off with a low knowing chuckle. “Relax. I like it.”

Your throat feels too dry to answer to her. You shift in your seat, caught between embarrassment and something far sharper you’re afraid to name. Billie pushes off her desk slowly, walking behind her chair, her movements unhurried but deliberate. She lowers herself into the seat, resting her elbow on the armrest, chin against her hand, eyes never leaving yours.

“You make this place… interesting,” she says. The words are casual, but her tone implies more.

You blink, your mouth opening before you even think. “I—really? I didn’t think you even—”

“Noticed?” she cuts in smoothly. “You underestimate yourself.”

The room feels too warm, your pulse skipping out of rhythm. She’s looking at you with that same deliberate intensity she always has, but now there’s nothing between you, no coworkers, and no distractions. Her attention is sharp and unwavering, and your own clumsy crush laid bare in every nervous shift and every glance you can’t hold long enough.

Billie’s lips curl again, like she knows exactly what effect she has on you. “Tell me something,” she says softly. “Do you always stay this late… or only when I’m around?”

Her question hangs heavy in the air, and you open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Heat crawls up your throat, panic and some weird need all tangled together.

Billie doesn’t give you the mercy of time to scramble for an answer. She leans forward across the desk, one hand resting on its polished surface, and the other resting on the arm of her chair. Her eyes hold yours, unblinking.

“I’ll make it easy for you,” she says, her voice low. “I know you like me.”

Your entire body stiffens at her accusation. “I—what? I—”

She laughs quietly at your reaction. “Don’t bother denying it. You’re not exactly subtle.” Her gaze flicks to your lips, then back to your eyes, making your stomach flip. “And honestly? I don’t want you to be.”

The breath you suck in is sharp and shaky. “I didn’t mean for it to be so… obvious.”

Billie rises from her chair, moving around the desk, every step measured. She stops in front of you, close enough that you can smell her perfume, dark, expensive, and something intoxicating. She rests one hand on the back of your chair, boxing you in without touching you.

“You think I don’t notice who stares at me when they think I’m not looking?” Her voice drops, husky now. “You think I don’t see you freeze up every time I walk past your desk?”

Your pulse is pounding wildly as your voice falters. “I just… I didn’t want to cross a line.”

Her smirk deepens, sharp but not cruel. “I know… that’s my job.”

One of her hands on the chair slides down slowly, brushing against your shoulder as she leans in, her lips inches from your ear. Her words come out soft and litter your skin with goosebumps, “If I wanted you to stay later tonight… would you?”

It takes every ounce of your self control not to melt into her. You nod before you can even think, your voice breaking on a whisper. “Yes.”

Billie pulls back just enough to look at you, her blue eyes bright and satisfied. “Good answer.”

She studies you for a moment longer, her expression unreadable, before her thumb grazes your jaw in a touch so light it almost doesn’t feel real. “You’re not nearly as oblivious as you pretend to be,” she murmurs, though her tone suggests she enjoys watching you fluster yourself.

Before you can stammer a reply, Billie tilts your chin up and closes the distance, her mouth pressing against yours in a kiss thats pure need. It’s slow for only a moment, then deepens with sudden hunger. You gasp against her lips, and she seizes the opening, her tongue sliding against yours.

Your hands instinctively reach for her shoulders, clutching at the crisp fabric of her blouse, and you melt under her. Billie tastes like power and something sweet you can’t name. When she pulls back, just enough to breathe, her eyes catch yours, sharp and burning with lust.

“See?” she whispers, her breath hot against your lips. “You were never going to say no anyways.”

You don’t even try to deny it. You can’t. Instead, your eyes flutter shut and you chase her mouth again. She lets you, briefly, before she takes hold of your wrists, pulling you up and off the chair.

In one fluid motion, Billie spins you toward her desk, the cool edge pressing against your thighs as she bends you forward. You let out a startled breath, half-moan, half-shock, and her hand presses lightly but firmly between your shoulder blades to keep you in place.

The sound of leather sliding through belt loops fills the air between you. She pulls her belt free from her slacks, the faint metallic clink of the buckle echoing through the empty office.

“Hands,” she orders, her voice low and controlled.

Your fingers tremble as you obey, offering them behind your back. She wraps the leather around your wrists in a firm, unyielding loop, her movements skilled and practiced. The restraint isn’t painful, just tight enough to remind you who’s in control.

“There,” Billie says, satisfied, tugging the belt once more to test the knot. “Now you’ll stay exactly where I want you.”

Her hand slides along your hip, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath stutter as she continues. “Not that it was ever hard for you to begin with, huh?” She leans over, her body flush against your back, her lips brushing your ear.

“You’ve been driving me crazy with those looks of yours,” she whispers hotly against the shell of your ear. “All that sweet dedication… all those late nights… Don’t act surprised this is where it led.”

Her words sink into you like fire, every syllable hitting deep and tightening the coil inside you. The office is silent except for your uneven breathing, the soft drag of her hands down your body, and the faint creak of the desk under your weight.

The leather belt around your wrists digs in just enough to remind you of where you are, bent over against her desk, nothing to cling to as you try to crane your neck back. Your heart races, your breath unsteady, and behind you Billie still moves with a calm precision.

You hear the low metallic clink of her pant button again, then the sound of fabric shifting. A moment later, something hard presses against the curve of your ass, the unmistakable outline of her strap beneath her slacks, firm and heavy.

Billie’s hand slides up your spine slowly, almost tender, before fisting in your hair and tugging your head back. Your lips part as you let out a sharp gasp. She leans in closer, her strap pressing against you, her mouth at your ear.

“You feel that baby?” Her tone is soft but laced with dominance. “I’ve been wearing it all day, thinking about you. Thinking about bending you over like this.”

The words send a shiver down your spine. You nod, breathless, and she tugs your hair harder until you whimper.

“Use your words.”

“Yes,” you gasp. “I feel it.”

Her low laugh vibrates against your skin, making you shiver in anticipation. “Good girl.”

She shoves your skirt up with one hand, dragging it over your hips, then hooks her fingers into your panties and pulls them down in one swift, unceremonious motion. The cool air hits you for a second, then the warm, heavy press of her body replaces it. She grinds against you, letting the thick ridge and head of her strap drag along your soaked folds, slow and taunting.

“Already wet for me,” she murmurs, her voice thick with satisfaction. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

Your reply comes out choked. “Yes, please—”

Billie doesn’t let you finish. With a single sharp thrust of her hips, she pushes inside you, her length filling you fast, stretching you until your breath breaks into a moan. She groans low against your ear, pulling your hair tighter as she drives deeper, setting a ruthless rhythm.

The desk creaks beneath the force of her movements, your body jolting forward with every thrust. The leather around your wrists digs harder as you struggle against it, not to escape but because you want more, need more.

“You take me so fucking well,” she growls, hips slamming into you with perfect control. “Look at you, bent over my desk, tied up, begging for me. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Yes!” The word tears from your throat, high pitched and desperate. “Yes, I wanted this—”

Her hand releases your hair only to slap your ass, sharp and stinging, before gripping your hip to yank you back onto her strap harder. She fucks you deeper and rougher, each thrust angled to hit exactly where it makes your legs shake.

“Good girl,” she purrs again, her tone almost mocking with how sweet it sounds against the brutal pace of her hips. “So eager. So obedient. You’ll stay late every night if I tell you to, won’t you?”

Your head spins at her words, your voice breaking. “Yes, anything—”

Billie leans forward, her chest pressed to your back, her hand sliding under your blouse to palm your breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple. Her thrusts don’t slow, if anything, they grow sharper, each one dragging a helpless cry from your lips as your back arches almost painfully.

“Remember this,” she murmurs against your skin, her words broken by the rhythm of her hips. “Remember who fucks you like this. Who owns you at the end of the day.”

Her thrusts slam into you, sharp and relentless, your body pinned against the desk with no chance of escape. The leather belt digs tight around your wrists, a constant reminder that you’re at her mercy. Every snap of her hips knocks the air from your lungs, and every drag of her strap inside you makes you cry out as your orgasm approaches.

Billie fists your hair again, yanking your head back so your mouth falls open in a strangled cry. “So fucking needy,” she growls into your ear, her tone laced with dark amusement. “I bet you’ve been sitting at your desk, daydreaming about this. About me bending you over and using you like this.”

Your whimper is broken, but you nod, the admission spilling out. “Yes, yes— I did!”

Her laugh is sharp, satisfied. “Pathetic little crush. Couldn’t even hide it.” Her hand slides down your stomach, between your thighs, and her fingers circle your clit roughly. “And now look at you, tied up, dripping all over my strap. Fucking perfect.”

“Yes!” you cry, the word ripped from your throat.

“Good girl.” Her voice drops, darker now, each word punctuated by another brutal thrust. “Good, obedient girl. Taking me so well. Letting me fuck you dumb on my desk.”

The shame and the praise tangle together until your head spins. Every stroke of her strap hits that perfect spot inside of you, her fingers merciless on your clit, your body teetering on the edge.

“You’re going to come for me,” Billie commands, her tone final, leaving no room for disobedience as she speeds up her thrusts for a final time. “Right here, right now. Be a good girl and make a mess for me.”

Her words tip you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you, violent and consuming. You cry out, your body convulsing against her as you push your hips back against hers, legs trembling, wrists straining against the belt. She fucks you through it, dragging it out, not letting up until you’re shaking and drenched, soaking the strap and the desk beneath you.

When you collapse forward, panting and dazed, she finally slows. Her thrusts ease into a grind before finally pulling out, the absence leaving you clenching around nothing. The belt loosens around your wrists with a quick tug, leather slipping free. Your hands fall to the desk beside you, tingling and trembling.

Billie stays with you, pressing her palm between your shoulder blades, grounding you as you struggle to catch your breath. Her other hand sweeps your hair away from your face, fingers brushing lightly along your cheek, steadying you as you come down.

“Breathe,” she murmurs, softer now as you start to slow your breathing, relaxing against the desk. “There you go.”

She helps you straighten, guiding you gently back against her chest, before turning you around to face her, one arm anchoring you close while the other strokes up and down your arm.

“You did so well for me,” she murmurs warmly, no longer the intense woman she was minutes before. “So beautiful when you let go like that.”

Her hand lingers at the back of your neck, gently brushing along your hairline. It’s a subtle, grounding touch. For a few seconds, neither of you speak, the only sound being the low hum of the city filtering through the office windows and your breaths mix together.

“You okay?” she asks quietly, almost casually, though the question lands with genuine weight.

You nod, still catching your breath. “Yeah. I’m… yeah.”

Billie studies your face for a beat, then gives a small nod of her own. “Good.” She straightens, her voice cooling back into its usual tone as she pulls her slacks up, looping her belt around her hips again, clicking the buckle into place with finality. “That’s enough for tonight.”

You start to move, pulling up your panties shakily, but her hand hovers over yours almost immediately, pushing it away gently before doing it herself. Billie smooths down your blouse, buttoning it with care as her eyes stay locked on yours. “Go home. Get some rest.” Her tone is calm, even, but it carries that same authority that always makes you obey without question. Her gaze lingers on you, a faint smirk tugging at her mouth before her demeanor shifts.

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” she says, clearing her throat, turning back toward her desk to stack a few stray papers into neat order. Then, without looking up, she adds, “And when everyone’s gone… come to my office again.”

You pause in the doorway, heart still thudding. She finally looks up then, meeting your eyes. The expression she wears is unreadable, but with the faintest glint of something more.

“Don’t be late.”

my masterlist

Dust frowns as he looks up at the door again. It is still closed and locked. Just as Nightmare left it about three hours ago, Dust glances at the small clock on his laptop, three and a half hours actually.

Things had been... weird. Well weirder. Dust had honestly thought his life had already hit the limit of weird shit but than he aparently freed a god.

Which. Is a thing he can do?! Somehow? Dust isn't even sure how he did that. Sure he knows his magic is... explosive but he never thought it was strong enough to affect divine magic!

The type of magic that is usually only affected by other divine magic.

Dust sighs as he looks up from the forums he had been stalking. Still no changes.

Ever since the kidnaping the guys had been very tense about Dust leaving his home. And Dust will admit, at first it was nice. He had wanted to lay in bed rolled up in blankets and not do anything. After that was the whole thing with Error and making a small altar for him. It had been nice to just not worry about going out or doing things for a bit.

Now it is mostly annoying.

He wants to go out and get his own things, wants to go out and scout some haunted places and do some jobs. Not have to discuss with four different people about the risks and if he can handle it.

Dust groans as he closes the laptop before stretching out.

"Is something wrong?" Horror sounds calm from where he floats.

Dust sighs "They have been gone for a while."

Horror hums as he glances at the door "True. Unlike Killer to want to stay out so long."

Which is putting it mildly. Killer had been... clingier than usual since the whole cult thing. Dust... can't really find it in himself to mind too much.

Dust crosses his legs "It is weird."

A snort from the kitchen "They are all weird."

Horror shoots Error a disapproving glance while Dust frowns at him "Yeah... but this is weird for them. They don't stay out longer than they need to." None of them had liked the idea of staying out a lot. Nightmare had even started talking to him about looking for better houses and more space. Dust had just reminded Nightmare that he did not have the money for that and if they wanted to move Dust would have to work a whole lot more.

Error tilts his skull at him, turning it just a tat too far for it to look normal, "Well. If it is so strange why not go look for them?"

Ash gasps "No! Dust is remaining home and safe!"

Error continues to tilt his skull, going much futher than is possible "Wasn't he kidnaped from his home? Or the basement at that?"

Ash glares as Dust groans "Okay. Enough." he rises from the couch and grabs his shoes. He hops on one foot as he puts one on and does the same for the other.

"Dust?!" Ash sounds panicked.

Dust walks towards the door "I am going to look for them-"

"Finally some action!" Error pushes himself off the table and floats over to his side.

Ash glares at the god before looking at Dust with big eyes "Dust. Please. Lets just wait."

Dsut shakes his skull as he frowns. He can't explain it, but something is wrong. He is sure. He looks back at his brother "I need to check." Ash frowns before unhappily moving aside.

Dust unlocks his apartment and leads the small group out before locking it again.

They make their way down quickly and follow the sidewalk. It is fine. They just went to get groceries. That is only a fifteen minute walk away. Dust will just go there, probably meet them on the way, and then they will yell at him and rush him back home.

It is fine...

His soul spins uneasily and he rushes his steps.

It is fine.

They make it all the way to the store without seeing anyone of the shopping crew. Dust frowns as he looks around and Horror offers that they are maybe still inside.

Dust doubts it but still searches the store, after finding no one he goes to the little help area and asks if they saw his friends. Two skeletons.

The clerk mentions they saw someone like that a while ago.

Dust leaves the store as he glances around. Officially uneasy.

Error hums as he stands with his hands in his pockets "Seems like your instincts were right priest. Something is amiss."

Dust ignores the title as he tries to feel out with his magic. It isn't stuff he has tried in a while, usually he only uses it to pinpoint ghosts in a more secure area. Now he is looking all around him.

Horror and Ash both give pings back to him. Near him and both very active.

Error, surprisingly, also pings. It feels different than the normal spirit pings but it is there.

There are smaller pings. Traces of weak spirits all around the old city.

A larger one. One that is much stronger, even if it isn't quite the one for the presence of a spirit.

Dust doesn't say a word as he turns around and starts walking. It is away from the direction of the apartment. Why would Killer go that way? Unless... unless he didn't want to lead someone, or something, back.

They rush down the different streets when they see the first marks. Slashes with burned bricks and concrete. All around the street they just walked into.

Dust breaks out into a run as he continues after the stronger signal of a familiar energy and-

A loud groan of pain. Dust doesn't think as he turns the corner and thrusts out his hands. His magic doesn't have a shape or curse to guide it but it reacts well enough. A wave of it pushes outwards and hits the strange cloaked person.

Dust really is starting to dislike cloaked people.

"Dusty?! What are you doing here?!" Killer sounds panicked as his being flickers slightly.

Dust frowns "What am I doing here?! You guys took forever." He continues moving closer all while keeping an eye on the other person. Who just, seems to be watching them?

Creepy fucker.

Killer groans again as his form, and the bulleye soul, both flicker madly. Dust frowns as he reaches out with a bit of mana in his hand. Maybe just a quick boost over just the slow refill.

"Stop that."

Dust frowns as he glances back to the figure. He slowly raises a brow and reaches his hand closer to Killer.

"Civilian stop."

Dust manages to get right by Killer and it is just a want before it happens. A small spark and Killer's vision gets stronger and brighter. His soul becomes stable once more and he is no longer breathing heavily.

A loud sigh "Foolish mortal. Don't interfere with the punishment."

Dust frowns "What are you even talking about?"

"It is a guardian. Something that the gods of the afterlife, you mortals often call it heaven and hell, send to restore order." Error sounds downright bored as he leans against the wall.

The guardian freezes and turns to Error. Then it backs away as they just stare at Error. Dust figures it is horror but he can't see their face.

Horror floats closer to his fellow spirit "Where are Nightmare and Cross?"

Killer shrugs "No idea. We were on our way back when this magic bullshit happened. I was searching for them when mister asshole showed up and started blasting me with this white as fuck light."

Dust frowns as he glances at the other. Divine magic then?

Error sighs "You know. When I said others would come looking for me I expected. I dunno. People who actually know their shit? Who are a threat?" he sighs as he snaps his fingers and... the other person just... falls apart. There is no scream or crying. Just a silent turning to dust.

Error hums as he turns "Lets find those idiots."

Dust stares at the back of the god before giving a slow nod. Is this just because Dust is his priest? Or is this because Nightmare and him go way back?

Why... why does it bother him? To think a god who wanted to do nothing suddenly is willing to help? He should be happy and relieved...

They continue walking but Error is seemingly much more efficient at sensing where Nightmare and Cross are. Dust frowns as it feels complicated again. He should be happy, he should he relieved Error can find them quicker.

He isn't.

They turn around a corner and come across a scene where Cross slams into a wall as Nightmare uses his usually hidden tendrils to stop arrows.

Dust manages to get to Cross's side as Cross just lays out cold against the wall. Shit. Guess even Cross isn't strong enough to withstand a direct hit to the skull from a brick wall.

"You will stop resisting and come with us to answer for your crimes." one of those guardians, or maybe warriors is a better name, holds up a long spear aimed at Nightmare.

Nightmare glances back at them before glaring at the people in front of him. "Actually. I think i will resist a bit more." Nightmare uses a swipe of his tendril to disbalance quite a few people.

Dust takes the time to rush to Cross's side and put an arm over his shoulder as he tries to pull him upright. Dust groans "Fuck Cross what are you made of? Solid steel over bones?" it takes a lot of effort but he manages to stands upright and pull Cross up with him. His legs shake.

Horror and Killer both float nearby as they check Cross. Ash keeps glancing around nervously as more people come near.

Dust groans but starts to move away from the alleyway. This is a mess. What the fuck is even his life and-

"Halt civilian."

Dust groans "Oh for fucks sake." he glares as the cloaked figure aims a spear.

"It is unsafe. you are not meant to be here."

Dust is this close to hitting his own skull against the wall and joining Cross in time out. "Yeah. I am wokring on that. We are on our way away." He pulls Cross a bit higher.

The warrior guy aims the spear and motions towards a even further away street "That way."

Then Error shouts "Hey! hands of my priest!"

The warrior guy pauses and seems to fully focus in on him.

Oh for fucks sake Error! WHY?!

Dust gulps as he glances to the side "Not sure what he means... I will just... drag my friend away and leave you all to your jobs and get out of your way."

The spear is now aimed at him. There is a loud hiss as Killer tackles the guard from the side. Both of them falling as the warrior person groans and Killer starts stabbing the guy with his knife.

"Don't you fucking dare to aim that shit at Dusty!"

Dust sees the other take out a small knife with golden light. It happens before Dust can say a word as Killer's form gets slashed and he flickers madly again. Dust can feel the other's energy levels deplete quickly.

Horror is the one who reacts fast enough. He grabs Killer and pulls him back wtih him. Killer flickers madly but Horror gets him back to their side.

The person of before gets up and raises his spear again.

Dust curses his inability to fight. He knows how to deal with spirits but... he doesn't have a weapon. He still doesn't. Kilelr is hurt and Cross hasn't moved. Neither Horror nor Ash are strong enough to gain a physical form for long enough to do anything.

Damnit why couldn't he had been strong enough to at least drag Cross away and-

A hand grabs the other's shoulder and the guy with the spear goes flying as Nightmare stands before them. His face is unlike anything Dsut has ever seen before.

It is a snarl. Those eyes seem to be burning as he stares the others down.

Error groans as he rips more chains apart "Stop that. It isn't going to work and is annoying." he waves a hand and the chains seem to melt into liquid gold which drip to the street.

One of the cloaked figures slams his staff against the ground. A goldne light ring appears and tiny stars appear in the air around them. These sharpen and aim right towards their group.

Nightmare glances back at them, the little bolts of light are launched in their direction. Nightmare spreads out his arms for a moment before bringing them together. His tendrils move and... flatten. The ends seem to sharpen into individual points as more and more split into tiny seperate sharp sheets. the black thins out and becomes a dark grey which reflects ever little light of the bolts.

The... the newly made wings flare out for a moment before curving inwards, around Nightmare himself but forming a shield.

Ever bolt hits the wings but get pulverised at contact.

Nightmare remains standing before the wings flare out again. Spread wide and proud as he stands before the others. Then Nightmare launches himself and rushes the other quickly and- slices the other right through the middle. Into two seperate parts. The upper part slowly slides off the lower part before both just fall to the ground with a loud thud.

Nightmare lets the wing which is not marked with blood flick it off. Drops of the red liquid splash against the ground in a curious pattern.

Nightmare looks downright bored "I don't approve of those who threaten what is mine."

A darker chuckle "Have to agree with him on that." and the last two cloacked people are turned into dust which fall to the ground. Error huffs as he looks annoyed at the dirt covering his feet.

Dust blinks before looking at Nightmare "That... was awesome." it is out in the world before he can stop it.

Nightmare blinks as he looks back at him for a moment. A smile on his face "They are rather... obvious." There is a tension on his face. His smile seems forced.

Dust frowns as his eyes follow the curve of the large wings. There... there is gold on them... Gold drops that slowly drip down and...

Oh...

Nightmare groans as he grabs a shoulder and kneels on the ground.