forum Toxic As Hell (Closed)

Started January 13, 2023 by @emilyevewrites group

tune

Saul paid the man he’d struck hardly any attention once he had struck true. He didn’t notice the sped up death and decay of the man as the body bled out with incredible speed and rotted within seconds.

Quain’s hand brushing, caressing his shoulder so gently distracted him from the wild savagery occurring to the rest of the club. Though the true solider he was, he never did turn his back on the fray, or the man he’d already marked to die. The leader. Saul definitely kept him in the corner of his eye.

He felt the fog swirling around their ankles still, but the little touch from Quain was almost like a reassurance. Saul trusted her, and whatever this mysterious fog was, he wouldn’t let it bother him. She was the only thing that mattered. He was utterly helpless to her now, devoted and obsessed.

He grinned at her words and touch. Damn him if it wasn’t turning him on. Saul’s eyes stayed on hers, but he tracked the motion of her fingers down his arm. He was about to respond when a flicker of motion caught his attention.

The leader. Saul didn’t see what exactly he was aiming at them with, but he would have bet that it was nothing good. His instincts kicked in, and he pulled Quain closely against his body and jumped out of the way. Coincidentally, they ended up right beside a wall. Instinctively, Saul pressed Quain back against it while looking over his shoulder. His eyes caught the leader’s crossbow, and Saul’s eyes narrowed. That attempt had sealed his fate in Saul’s eyes.

“Are you hurt?” he asked Quain, not taking his eyes off of Evaen now.

Quain noted Saul’s continued awareness of the battle around, and couldn’t help appreciating that. She could always use a good warrior. Maybe… maybe… she might consider asking her beloved god if she could keep this man. An enforcer devoted to her would be perfect in keeping some of her subordinates in line. But, that depended on how things in the club ended.

His thoughts and grin pleased her immensely, and her idea became even more appealing. A warrior slave… and one wholly devoted to her, maybe even in several ways… It would be a shame to miss such an opportunity.

Unfortunately, they were still in a fight. Which was proven by the flash of a tiny crossbow bolt heading their way. Quain started to whisper a quick spell, but Saul reacted quicker.

He pulled her close and jumped. She hadn’t even realized they were near a wall until Saul pushed her back against it. A soft gasp escaped her and her heart immediately raced. For one, she was in a lovely vulnerable position. Two, Saul had potentially saved her life. Quain wasn’t too sure who Evaen had been aiming at, but it didn’t matter. It was the thought that mattered. He was devoted. And, he was indeed vindictive when someone threatened those he cared for. Wonderful!

“No. Are you?”she asked. She knew the bolt had missed, but it was still good to act concerned.

Her eyes turned to Evaen as well, and she grinned evilly at him. That seemed to piss off the man beside Evaen and he darted toward them, ignoring the feral folk still killing each other. He appeared to have only a knife, but Quain knew better. True assassins never had just one weapon.

---

Evaen wasn’t too surprised that Saul had dodged his attack. Saul was a good fighter, and Quain… he had no words to describe the treacherous witch.

But, as he watched the pair, he saw the way they looked at each other, the way they acted. Were they flirting while still in battle? By the gods, what sort of crazy bitch was Quain? Evaen was glad now that he never got romantically involved with her. A few one-night stands every now and then had been the extent of their former relationship. Evaen had regretted that once. Now, such regret was a stupid thought.

As Saul stared at him, Evaen stared right back, studying the man. Up until he saw Quain’s grin. That made him stiffen. Though, it also enraged his lieutenant. Before Evaen could react, the man was rushing into the crowd. The woman nearly followed, concerned for her brother, but Evaen caught her by the wrist.

“We can’t let him fight alone!”she hissed at Evaen.

“We must think before we act. We’re fighting three people here, not two. We must get her. She’s a cultist, and has brought him here. He’s the fog,”Evaen hissed back.

Her eyes widened for a moment, then she composed herself and nodded. She knew what she had to do.

By now, Saul’s consistent monitoring of the battle around them was instinctual. He’d been trained in swordplay since he was big enough to hold one of his father’s swords. And when his father was killed by a Burned One, Saul coped by throwing himself into massive amounts of training and working out.

He was trying to distract himself from getting turned on by every little thing Quain did. And what better way to distract than nearly be killed with a crossbow bolt?

After making sure Quain was alright, Saul seemed to realize exactly what position they’d ended up in. “Sorry,” he muttered, but he wasn’t really. Especially because he didn’t remove his hands from Quain’s waist. Her gasp… the things it was doing to him. He couldn’t help but fantasize for a moment. Imagining that gasp as he kissed his way all over her beautiful body. Her gasp as he devoted his mouth to pleasing her. The gasp as he straddled her and slipped his—

He quickly shook his head to focus. Damn… rarely did he loose focus in combat. Thankfully, no one had seemed to take advantage of that. “No,” he answered shortly. “I’m not hurt.”

Immediately, his eyes locked on the man charging down through the crowd at him. “Stay back here,” Saul ordered, gripping his blade tightly once more. “Can’t let you get hurt.”

With both Quain and his lost fairy on his mind, Saul stepped toward the edge of the crowd, waiting for the man to break through the mob. He wielded his sword, brandishing it in his tight grip in a way that would intimidate nearly anyone. And most people would run screaming from him before he had a chance to advance on them.

Quain shook her head at his apology, unable to find words as she felt the way his hands lingered on her bare waist. She knew he wasn’t sorry, could see it in his eyes. She could even see the fantasies in his head, and they only added to her own. She was practically breathless in an instant.

Quain was barely paying attention to the fight now, even as Saul regained his senses. Though, at his answer, Quain nodded and forced herself to catch her breath. She then watched Saul focus on the charging man, and a cruel smirk grew on her lips.

“Alright,”she replied softly to Saul’s order.

He didn’t need to worry about her safety, but it was touching nonetheless. Her devoted slave…

She was so caught up in admiring her newest pet that she didn’t see a woman assassin sneaking around the edge of the crowd toward her.

---

The man continued to rush through the crowd, slicing the throats of any that got in his way. Then, he burst out from the thinning crowd at all full run at Saul. The warrior’s stance didn’t faze the assassin, especially as he lunged with a dagger that had turned into a sword with a tap of his finger.

---

Evaen continued to watch from his perch, noting the crowd was starting to get terribly thin. So many dead now, and so quickly. Death didn’t scare him, but this whole scenario wasn’t right. Half of the people in the club were just patrons, wanting to drink and laugh and gamble. The other half were trained assassins, now reduced to mere beasts.

His lieutenant was a great soldier, possibly a match to Quain’s warrior in a fair fight. But, this was no fair fight. And, the assassin’s sister, soon to be a lieutenant herself, if they all survived, was just as good as her brother, but milder in temperament. She wasn’t a fighter, though she was still a killer. But, even with all of that, the odds were still stacked against them in a way that was just so wrong.

His eyes moved back to Quain, seeing her attention solely on Saul for the moment. He started reloading his hand crossbow, determined to take, at least, one more shot before he was forced into battle.

Saul was bewitched as she shook her head. Dismissal, but not a bad kind. Like she knew what he was thinking and that he was the furthest thing from sorry for putting his hands on her. If only he had the time to savor the feel of her sweet, supple body under his fingertips. Soon, though. He would have that chance soon.

He heard her affirmation, and it only set him more firmly in his stance. No one would harm her. They would have to go through him first.

Though the man was sprinting at him, Saul didn't waver. Instead, he gritted his teeth and waited for the first strike. It would inevitably come from his attacker. The man was running too fast and had pure fury in his eyes. His rage and momentum would carry him, and it did.

Saul was ready for the lunge, and he brought his sword up to accept the blow. Once he absorbed the initial impact, he kicked out and up hard into the man's gut. The move was enough to knock the wind out of almost anyone, especially the way Saul had executed it. He was a flawless fighter. Years of rigid and brutal training were beginning to show again.

Quain knew exactly what Saul was thinking, and she was already impatient for it. Her interest in the battle was steadily waning, her need to claim Saul as her slave growing in its place. She would have him, and soon.

A small smile lifted her lips as she saw how her simple reply boosted Saul. She would definitely use that little detail to her advantage.

Quain watched as Saul and the male assassin started to fight, a cruel grin growing as she saw the experience in Saul’s movements. But, only a few moments later, the fog gave her a warning tap on the foot. Quain whirled around to her left, and saw the female assassin about to pounce on her.

Quain immediately ducked the woman’s first lunge, then reached under her own skirts, pulling out a wicked dagger from a sheath on her thigh. With a feral shriek, Quain slashed at the woman’s belly. The woman’s quick reflexes was all that spared her from getting disemboweled. But, Quain immediately closed on her, not letting her get a moment to reorient herself. The woman, using two daggers of her own, went on the defensive, trying desperately to get her footing back as the crazed belly dancer attacked her.

---

The man growled furiously as his strike was blocked by Saul’s sword. He moved to lunge again, but Saul kicked him before he could even start the movement. He stumbled back a few steps, curling and gasping, but he recovered quickly and slashed low, cutting at Saul’s ankles. As he did so, his free hand pulled out a hidden knife, one that he moved to stab straight into Saul’s groin.

---

Evaen winced as he saw Quain viciously going after the woman assassin. Unless she steadied, she was doomed for sure, and that was just simple observation. He had never seen Quain fight, had never even realized that she kept a dagger on her, but he had clearly underestimated her fighting skills.

The battle between Saul and the man was a little more evenly matched, it seemed. That would buy Evaen a minute or two, at least. Long enough to get a proper aim at Quain.

The crowd was quickly becoming small pockets of people. Each group still brutally fought, but the implication that soon no one would be left bothered Evaen. But, it did allow him a clearer sight of Quain.

He quickly finished loading his little crossbow and held it up. He watched Quain’s movements carefully, timing his shot. Then, when he felt it was right, he fired. Ion and Korsakrūna willing, his aim would be true.

Saul was completely unfazed by the man's growl. If anything, he gritted his teeth and sneered back at him. In his mind, this man had been in the alley with the leader when Farah had been attacked. He had been the first to attack her. Regardless of whether that was true or not, Saul swore the man's death by his blade to whatever god might have been listening to him. Normally it was the Otherworld's gods, but he wasn't sure if they existed here. Better pray to some god rather than none at all.

His kick landed solidly, and arrogance briefly flickered across Saul's face. But it was gone in an instant. He refused to let himself get absorbed in one good maneuver when he still had the man's throat to slit.

Somewhere in the chaos, Saul heard an unbridled shriek. He didn't care to look and see who it was, though, because one false move in front of this man, and the vengeful Specialist would find himself slaughtered by the blade of his enemy. Perhaps the same blade that took the life of his fairy.

The thought made Saul roar with anger, and when the man slashed low at his ankles, he jumped over the attack and then stepped on the blade. It was a miracle as the sword wedged under his boot, but then the dagger was coming. Saul slashed it away with his sword before striking for the man's throat. He wanted blood for Farah. Now.

The man heard the shriek as well, but ignored it just like Saul did. His mind was solely focused on gutting the foreign warrior in front of him. Then, he would be going after the bitch he was with.

But, Saul’s sudden roar confused him, and his movements slowed just barely. However, it was enough that he was caught unprepared by Saul’s jump. His sword fell out of his hand as Saul stepped on it, but he managed to hold onto the dagger as Saul knocked it aside. Out of sheer luck, the dagger cut a shallow gash in Saul’s thigh, but that was all. Then, the man was choking as Saul’s sword slashed his throat, nearly taking his head off in the process.

He gurgled for a moment, the dagger falling from his fingers to the floor, then his body followed.

---

The man’s sister, who was still desperately fighting Quain, saw her brother fall. She screamed in denial, and moved to rush away, to help her brother. Unfortunately for her, Quain didn’t relent, and she slashed at the woman’s gut as she turned.

Pain overtook greif, and she stumbled away, holding her belly. She tried to defend herself from Quain, but her balance and momentum were broken. She knew she was dead. And, she was right.

With another shriek, Quain cut her throat ear to ear. The woman dropped her weapons, her hands shooting to her neck, where she discovered something far worse than blood. Her flesh was rapidly rotting away too. And, within seconds, the magic in Quain’s dagger had turned her entire neck into a chasm of putrid tissue and bone.

She let out a croaking gasp and collapsed to the ground, dying in agony as the decay spread as quickly as her blood pooled around her.

The last thing she saw was the sadistic grin on Quain’s face, her dagger glowing a faint sickly green.

---

Evaen saw the man’s death just as he fired. He flinched without realizing it, but that little motion threw off his aim. The bolt thudded into the wall behind Quain as she stared down at the woman.

Quain heard the thud and turned to see the bolt. Immediately, she locked a glare on Evaen. Then, she threw her dagger at him.

Evaen’s eyes widened and he tried to dodge the throw without toppling his chair. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out as intended. The dagger struck him hard in the shoulder, and Evaen overbalanced, him and the chair falling back to the floor.

With a groan, Evaen quickly pulled the dagger from his shoulder, but its magic was already working. Evaen suppressed a whimper of pain and instead climbed to his feet.

“I knew you were a damn cultist, you bitch of a whore!”Evaen shouted.

Quain didn’t move, simply glaring at him. Then, she looked at Saul.

“He is leader here. I’m almost certain he helped kill your dear friend, even if all he did was say the command,”Quain said, her voice laced with magic. Magic that Evaen knew would influence the foreign warrior, and the poor man was likely too mesmerized by her to notice her foul spell.

With a shake of his head, Evaen reached down and pulled a sword out from a hidden scabbard in his chair. He would go for the second sword he’d hidden in his seat, but his poisoned arm was useless. The rot was already almost at his elbow, while also taking up most of his chest. It would kill him soon, but Evaen was determined to die fighting, instead of cowering.

Saul grunted as the man's dagger cut him, but his motions remained fluid. The shallow wound wasn't enough to hinder him. Not in comparison to the wounds he'd suffered in the past. If anything, the adrenaline rush only fueled him until the man was dead on the floor in front of him.

It was a different feeling, killing another person. Mostly Burned Ones had fallen to Saul's sword. But now the weapon was covered in warm blood. And Saul wasn't done yet. He looked over just in time to see another woman fall. It took him a second to put the pieces together, but he realized she'd been fighting Quain.

Saul watched Quain effortlessly pitch her dagger at the leader, striking him in the shoulder. Just that motion made him a hundred times more attracted to her. Without thinking, he strode over to Quain, slid his arm around her waist to pull her close, and kissed her.

He immediately drew back and pointed his blade at the man. "Don't you dare speak of her that way," he snarled, even going so much as to pull Quain closer to his body. Saul's glare on Evaen didn't falter as Quain spoke to him. He knew it. This man was responsible for Farah's death. His sweet, beautiful fairy had done nothing to deserve the cruel death she'd been given. Saul would amend that now.

As much as he wanted Evaen's death to be long and slow and brutally painful, there was something else tugging at his mind. Quain. The wonder that was the woman beside him. He wanted to lay claim to her, if she would let him. As soon as this man was dead, he would. Caution be damned.

So with one final kiss to Quain's temple, he released her and stalked across the room. The piles of bodies on the floor did nothing to dissuade him from what he was about to do. As he grew closer, he saw that one of the man's arms hung completely limp at his side. It was rotting and decaying with every breath he made. Saul grinned wickedly. He might not be able to make it last, but he could make it hurt. His blade was up and readying, taunting Evaen to make the first strike at him.

Quain was so focused on Evaen that she didn’t notice Saul approaching until his arm was around her and his lips on hers. A small gasp escaped her, but her surprise quickly melted away as she sensed his drastically increased attraction. She then eagerly kissed Saul back, her entire body already craving more.

However, the kiss was cut off as Saul turned to snarl at Evaen. Quain smiled at Saul, pleased by his reaction, and even more so as he pulled her even closer. Quain then turned back to Evaen, her smile turning cruel.

She let a soft moan slip out as Saul kissed her temple. Quain was so eager to take him. She was impatient for it. She was even tempted of letting Evaen watch, just to torture him, but he was an assassin. It was too great a risk to let him live, so she just watched as Saul moved to finish him off.

---

Evaen shook his head at the sight of Saul kissing Quain. The casual affection was so wrong. Everything about the entire situation was just so wrong. From the battle to the flirtations to the Dreaded One himself coming to observe. This had been no battle. It had been a slaughter. He and his fellows were just cattle. Tools to cement Quain’s control over the poor man flirting with her.

“If you knew the truth of her, you’d agree with me. But, I doubt you ever will,”Evaen huffed.

Evaen held up his sword in a practiced pose, but his grip was quickly weakening. The pain from the rot was growing exponentially with each breath, and, even with his decades of discipline, he could barely concentrate on anything except fighting back a scream of agony.

But, he was determined to focus anyway. He wouldn’t die like a wounded goat. Sure, he knew this foreign warrior was baiting him, but at least he was allowing Evaen to die with some kind of dignity, whether he realized it or not.

“You’re just a willing slave now. A weapon to be used and discarded. I’d pity you, but I just don’t care,”Evaen hissed.

He then lunged forward, going for Saul’s throat with all of his remaining strength.

Oh, this woman. She would be his undoing.

Saul only wanted to kiss her deeper after hearing her soft little gasp. How could she be so sweet and soft, yet also brutal — if the precision of her dagger throw was anything to go by. And how eagerly she returned the kiss had his body reacting readily. He wanted to claim her. Wanted to let her claim him. But it was steadily growing into more than a want, if the straining against his pants was anything to go by.

And her moan made him weak at the knees. Saul decided he would end the leader quickly so that they could get on with what they both truly wanted.

“You won’t be alive long enough to find out,” Saul replied sharply. He had every intention of making Evaen’s death as short but painful as possible. And as he grew closer, the glaze over Evaen’s eyes became clearer. He was masking the pain. Something Saul was more than able to spot.

He barely listened the Evaen’s words. Instead, he waited until the man lunged. All it took was one smooth motion. Saul deflected the blade and made a jab of his own, aiming right for Evaen’s chest.

His blade was true, and the weapon pierced Evaen’s chest until the Shadowfolk man was entirely run through with it. Then, with their faces near, Saul snarled, “This is for Farah.”

The Specialist effortlessly twisted the blade and jerked it upward to cut as deeply into the weakening man’s chest as he could. Once he was sure Evaen was dead, Saul yanked his blade clean out and let him fall. The weapon was covered in blood as he turned back to Quain and met her eyes.

“It’s done,” he said with a mixture of gentleness and coldness in his tone.

“No, but you will,”Evaen hissed back.

He wasn’t surprised at all when Saul easily deflected his lunge, and he quickly accepted the pain of being impaled. The rot was more painful anyway. Though, when the foreigner spoke a woman’s name, Evaen had no idea who he was talking about. Who the fuck was Farah?

“Wh…”Evaen croaked. He didn’t get to finish as Saul twisted the sword and cut a great hole in his chest.

He grunted and gurgled, going limp on Saul’s sword before collapsing to the floor. The rot’s progress slowed to a stop, as it needed living flesh to spread. Though, it had destroyed most of his arm and torso before stopping. Another minute, and the former assassin leader would’ve been dead anyway.

---

Quain watched as Saul killed Evaen, savoring the sight. Evaen had been a threat for a while, even if he hadn’t actually acted on it. It was nice to be rid of him. And, nicer still to have a willing soldier to take care of her enemies.

She softened her expression as Saul turned back to her, nodding. A quick glance around revealed that the last survivors of the feral crowd had fallen as well. It was truly done. The battle finished.

Quain turned her gaze to Saul, admiration in her eyes. She then walked toward him, admiration becoming more. She knew what he wanted, could feel it in his thoughts and see it in his posture. And, she knew what she wanted. She wouldn’t be waiting any longer.

She just had to remember to retrieve her beloved dagger before they left. Then, once they were away from the massacre, Quain would craft up a story to explain her knife-throwing skills. But, that was for later.

Saul snarled out loud at the hissed response. He missed the strangled croak and gave the dead man no dignity, merely letting his body drop to the floor.

The look on Quain’s face was far too soft for the scene that surrounded her. But with the death and carnage and rot, she was a beacon of heavenly beauty. The Specialist felt his need for her grow, evidence of it becoming more prominent by the second.

She walked toward him, and Saul immediately dropped his blade. Solely focused on her, he made his way back through the room, stepping around lifeless bodies until he got to her.

Immediately he took her hips in his calloused hands and pulled her roughly against him. He pressed himself against her leg, nearly groaning at the feel of it. To hell with dancing around what he wanted. Saul needed to let the woman in his grip know just how desperate he was for her body and the pleasure they could bring from each other.

He lowered his face beside Quain’s and spoke in her ear with a low timbre that was enough to have any submissive woman melting in his hands.

“Can you feel me, Quain?” he growled deeply. “Tell me you desire me as badly as I desire you. I need you.”

Quain watched Saul as he stared at her, sensing and seeing the multiple signs of his growing desire for her. It was quite inspiring actually, and she had to quickly suppress a moan.

Then, as she approached him, she watched his sword fall to the ground. That only fueled the burning need in her, and it continued to grow as Saul made his own way to her.

His rough grasp on her hips brought a loud gasp from Quain, and it was all she could do to keep from shoving him down and having her way with him right then. Though, his tease, his delightful tease, gave her other ideas.

A soft moan poured from Quain’s lips as he growled in her ear. If she were a submissive woman, she would’ve been begging for him in utter desperation at his tone. But, she wasn’t. Instead, she swayed her hips against him teasingly, moaning as she did.

“Oh… Oh, I feel you. I need you. I crave you. But, I can’t help asking this before we proceed… Shall I dance for you?”Quain breathed in his ear, her tone oozing with an invitation.