With a groan Shura rolled over to face him, taking note his clothes and hair were now dry. "I think you owe me more than one drink," she joked, wincing at her aching joints and lungs. They sat there in silence, staring at each other for what seemed like hours. Even from this distance he looked tired, well more than usual. There always seemed to be a reason to hate him, whether it be his attitude or what he did, but in this moment after everything he's done, she just couldn't find that reason.
Though that familiar devious look returned as her words sank in. "I think you'd regret that decision," he replied, eyes silently challenging her.
"Oh that's how it is?"
The demon chuckled, "That's how it is~"
Sitting upright she laughed, a confident smirk growing on her lips. "You two done? Police are coming," interrupted Viktor as he walked up from the river. With a quick glance across the water she stood up and followed after the duo while adding, "Also I think you owe me new clothes as well. "He merely smirked.
They were almost home when a fire truck whizzed past, sirens making her ears ring. A black plume of smoke rose above several buildings, only a block from the house. Glancing at each other all three took off, coming to an abrupt stop.
"Mephisto!"
They looked up to see a black raven diving off a nearby building.
"What's going on Jasper?" Mephisto asked, his gaze focused on the burning building.
There before them was the house next to their's, burning brightly in the dusk of the late afternoon. "I don't entirely know, but that house has been vacated for at least two weeks now…. Something doesn't feel right," responded the dark bird while is landed on Viktor's shoulder. Without another word the demon king vanished in a plume of smoke.
"I hate it when he does that." Shura said, rushing over to the burning building. Only to be stopped as firefighters yelled out to her in French. "What are you doing?" Viktor asked, stepping up next to her. Before she could answer a cry for help shouted from the burning building, firefighters unable to get inside. The knight was about to run in but the bear of a man grabbed her arm. "Stop, we don't even know what's in there," he warned, but the determined woman yanked her arm away. "I can get to whoever's inside quicker than them. Give me five minutes and if I'm not back then ya can worry," she replied while backing up. His grayish blue eyes closed with a phrase in Russian, "Five Minutes. Otherwise I'm coming to get you."
Without another word she turned and ran past the firefighters, they're words falling deaf as an explosion rocked the house. It was hard to breathe as she walked further in, the fire growing stronger by the minute. Ducking under a fallen beam she called out, "Hello? Can ya hear me?" A weak, "Yes," was all that greeted her. It sounded to be coming from the basement door. Quickly she kicked it open, the fire seeming to have not been down there yet. Without thinking she rushed down the stairs, only to have the door behind slam shut. The once cry for help turned into a sickly laughter.
"I didn't think luring you down here would be so easy," the voice replied. "Who the hell are you?!" she barked, summoning her sword quickly. "The question is who are you?" it replied, a ruffled sound whizzing past her ear.
"That's none of yer business," she retorted, straining her eyes to see if she could make something out. "Oh but it is! My superiors only mentioned three men, including my target. The job seemed pretty easy in fact, what with one of you already indisposed. But it seems he lied, oh well."
"What do ya mean only two? There's four of us!" she declared, taking a step back. The voice grew silent and then replied with a sinister laugh, "Come now! You really think the Lt. made it back? So naïve~"
Before she could answer a figure stepped from the shadows. Shock filled her as she was greeted with a familiar face. "Mason?" she whispered, almost believing it was him till she noticed the red eyes and twisted grin. "That's impossible!" she barked, chills running down her spine. "Nothing is impossible for me," the imposter replied, his abnormal eyes looking over her like a piece of meat. "Ah, yess! Your face will do splendidly!" it cooed, something in the shadows moving while it spoke.
The knight raised her sword, "Try and take it ya creepy asshole!" Something hissed and in record speed the creature lunged at her, showing its true color's as a long body emerged from behind the imposter. A dark tendrille tried to reach her but with one swing she cut the damn thing off, making the creature cry out in pain. "Stay still human! I'd hate to ruin such a pretty face," it screeched, lunging at her again.
This time she dodged, the exit blocked by the monster's long body. She was surrounded, in a sense, and this time there was no one to help her. Perhaps she could lure him up top with more room, but down here there wasn't enough room to maneuver. "Any last words?" it hissed, it's scaly body shifting, and like a mirror they showed her reflection. Like a snake it raised its ugly head, red eyes glowing in the dark room.
"Yeah what happened to Mason?" she asked, a hand reaching for the kunai hidden away. "I didn't kill him, they needed more information out of him. So I let him be, though I can't say the same fo-"stopping mid-sentence the creature hissed, retracting its head back. "That sword! HOW DO YOU HAVE THAT SWORD!" it shrieked the once sinister eyes now filled with a mix of fear and anger.
Dark memories threatened to resurface at the question, "Last words remember?" In a shrill cry the beast roared, obviously ticked off by the exorcist's response. Fangs dripping with a black ooze the monster struck.
In a flash she threw the kunai in its face, jumping straight up as the serpent crashed into itself. Shura had managed to get closer to the stairs as a low growl emitted from the beast. The demon hat bitten itself and was now glaring at her with a rage unmatched. Well that was one way to piss it off. With wide eyes she ran up the stairs, the monster striking again. "Forget my collection! I think I'll just kill you!"
Swinging her sword she cut down the door, the flames surging in. With a quick glance behind she bolted through, the giant serpent gaining on her.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" she thought, trying to find an exit.
"Get back here you thief!"
Suddenly a roar erupted from outside followed by several screams, drawing both her attention and the demon's. Before either of them could comprehend what was going on something big came crashing through the wall next to her. Shock and surprise filled her eyes as she looked upon the newcomer. Big with pitch black fur, standing before her, was a werebear. Crisp yellow eyes gave her a soft glance before pouncing on the fanged serpent, its poison fangs inches away from her head. Huge white claws sunk deep into its scaly neck, yanking the beast away just in time.
Yet before she could realize what was happening an arm wrapped around her waist. "You really don't know how to stay out of things," scolded Mephisto, pulling her closer just as the building started crumbling down. As they were about to get away the snakes head got loose, lunging straight at her. In the blink of an eye the demon king had switched places with her, and now they were in a dimly lit room. "Well where the hell did you run off too?" barked the knight, her tone falling as the demon fell against her. "What the he-" she started, till she noticed the puncture wound in his back.
"We both got careless," he replied, his body already fighting the toxin. For the second time in her life Shura didn't know what to do. "Whoa there," she warned as his weight started to fall on her. If this were any other moment she'd gladly let his demonic ass face plant the floor, but this time she owed him.
"Mephisto?" she asked, pulling him over to a Victorian styled sofa. "I'm not dead," he groaned, wincing slightly as her hand touched the wound.
"Well damn, I thought I finally got rid of ya," she replied half heartily, glancing up only to be met by dark green hues. It wasn't pain in his eyes but rather more of an annoyance, like whenever he saw Arthur. "Sorry to disappoint you," he replied, a small smirk playing on his face. Magenta orbs looked long and hard into the green abyss, trying to find an answer to her re-occurring question. "Why did you do it?" she whispered, searching for any hint she could find within his expression.
"I believe I already told you," he muttered, trying to ignore the question. Firmly she grabbed him by his shirt collar, "Don't give me that bullshit! I know ya!"
He merely chuckled at her outburst and said, "Do you? Can you tell me with a straight face that you truly know me?"
Words wanted to come out but even she couldn't bring herself to lie, especially to herself. So she sat there, unable to say anything and it gave him her answer regardless.
"I figured," he replied, pausing for a moment and then wincing when she pressed a cloth against his skin with alcohol she had gotten from a storage cabinet next to the sofa. "Easy with the liquor," he warned, patience wearing thin while she roughly handled his wound. "Suck it up ya big baby," she retorted, glancing up briefly. "Besides, I've seen demon's take worse hits and heal twice as fast as you."
Even he had to admit she was right, this time. "I won't die if that's what you're thinking. No, the poison will only slow the healing process. Trust me, I've had to deal with him many times," he mumbled, watching her every move. "Well HE left a souvenie- wait how many times have you dealt with him?" she asked, pulling out a kunai to get the small tip of the fang out. "Wait, if you're going to get it out then I don't want you ruining my clothes," Mephisto replied, and before she could protest to where this was leading he had snapped his fingers. Involuntarily she had looked away but a chuckle from him had returned her gaze. She wanted to smack him for making her think he had gotten completely undressed. No, instead it was just his shirt, jacket, and tie that were missing
"Disappointed?" he teased, loving every single one of the many expressions that flashed across her face.
"I'm gonna dig /something/ out of ya with this, and if ya don't roll over right now it's gonna be yer eye", the knight smiled and wiggled the kunai between her fingers - a casual, playful motion, but made with fingers confident about their ability. "Or yer tongue if ya keep bein' mouthy."
"Disappointed", he concluded with a content snicker as he rolled over on his belly.
…Shura would cut out her own tongue before admitting that he looked… good. For a demon, at least. His body was wiry and malnourished, but that also meant that his skin clung directly to the contours of his muscles. Now that he couldn't catch her doing it, her eyes smoothed over his shoulders, over the long slope of his spine and the muscles that flanked it, down to the angle of his hips where the root of a sleek, black tail emerged just before disappearing into his trousers to hide.
-/superiordimwits edited version/-
"Distracted~?" He tossed a cheeky smile over his shoulder.
"You wish." She straddled his back brusquely for that comment and smiled at the wince that passed through him. She flicked open a lighter (Shura had never smoked, but you never knew when you might need to purify the remains of a rot demon infestation) and burnt the tip of her kunai slowly, back and forth over the flame on both sides. "Be a good boy an' lie still~"
Shura did have a meister in Doctor, but since her patient was one that regenerated she didn't see any need to be as gentle as she would have been with a human. The fang tip was out in a wink, and the discoloration of the wound improved almost immediately.
"All done", she announced, getting herself off his back after she had wiped the weapon on her shirt. There was no saving that garment anyway, it would always have the stink of burning oil no matter how you washed it.
"You're quite the rough woman."
Shura couldn't decipher if it was a joke or a reprimand, the way he said it, but shot a smirk his way for good measure.
"Ya can thank me anytime, my prince."
"Then I will~"
And with that, he leaned in and kissed her.
Shura would have smacked him in the face with a leering comeback. Shura would have speared through his jaw with the kunai. The Shura of the present would have done that, to the Mephisto of the present. But this Shura… This Shura had come to know the Mephisto of the past, had come to… like the Mephisto of the past.
Like him in ways she had never considered possible.
"Oi, what do ya think ye're doing?" she said when the kiss broke.
"Why, I'm thanking y-"
"Then thank me properly", she breathed and pressed her lips onto his, her body against his, and let all regards for Order policy fly. Catholics, what did they know about passion? What did they know about demons and those who were raised by them?
She could feel him smile against her lips, feel his hands roam up under her ruined shirt, embrace her, /claim/ her. His touch was electric, burning, wanting.
"And how does one thank you… properly?" he murmured, lips shaping the last word slowly, hungrily; eating her with his eyes and starving for more.
"I can think of a few ways…" She swung her leg over his, slowly, letting him appreciate the muscles that curved her thigh and calf, and seated herself on his lap, hips flush against his. "I'm sure ye can, too", she smiled, eyes hooded with desire, and let her hands slide down his back, down to the base of his tail.
Catholics, what did they know of demons? How to kill them. Those who were raised by demons? They know other things. Useful things.
"Nnh as a matter of fact, I don't think I can", he breathed heavily, hips rocking with the motion of her fingers rubbing against the base of his tail. "You might have to… inspire me a bit", he smiled devilishly and made short work of the buttons on her shirt.
The lace bra underneath it inspired him more than a bit, Shura could feel it; a bulge pressing harder and harder between her spread legs. She moved her arms back to let the garment slide off completely, allowing the motion to lean her chest out towards him. His hands followed on cue, tracing her sides, undoing the bra from behind and letting it follow the shirt.
"Beautiful…" He pulled her close, kissed her n*** tenderly, then her other, teasing them harder with his tongue while his hands were busy with their next obstacle: her trousers.
Shura closed her eyes, zoning out everything except the building heat in her b*** and gut, and her own quivering breath rushing past her lips. Oh, he was good. She threaded her fingers into his hair, held his head in place, encouraged him to continue.
Her eyes snapped open again when she landed on her back, not on the wet asphalt of the street but in the soft, plush covers of a Victorian bed.
Mephisto was many things – a demon, yes, but also gentleman, a gourmand, and one who enjoyed the good things in life.
Women, oh he enjoyed them very much. He enjoyed their soft curves, their soft lips, the soft shyness in their eyes when he approached them and embarrassed them by how they felt. Soft – such were the women of this era. Soft and submissive.
Oh but the woman beneath him now was something else entirely. No more soft than the blade she fought with, no more intimidated by him than by any other demon, and it made him burn inside. She was a flame – no, a wildfire – and she was /intoxicating/. He hadn't met a woman like her in ages. He hadn't felt for anyone what he felt for her in ages – intentionally hadn't, because a flame that burns too hot can scar even one who regenerates all damage.
All physical damage, at least.
But he wanted to burn. Slowly, take his time, let her flame encase him and devour all thoughts of caution.
"I think I like this view better", he purred, loving every bit of pale skin that showed against the deep red of the bedcovers beneath him. "Except these get in the way." She drew her legs together to allow him to pull the trousers off, and spread them languidly again on either side of him, looking like a snake that stretches out its body to bask in sunlight. Her legs were lean but firm with muscle, begging for his touch where they converged under a pair of underwear in black with pink lace.
"Ye've got something in the way as well", she remarked with an inviting smirk, brushing against the outside of his thigh with one slender leg.
His hand caught the leg, hooked it over his shoulder as he leaned forward over her, bent it up against her chest. Shura's smirk grew wider and her hands found his back, found his neck and brought his face down for a kiss.
"They're still in way", she murmured against his lips.
Mephisto snapped his fingers once, and nothing was in the way anymore.
"Better?"
"Not quite." Her smile flashed mischievously, flaring up and throwing him off guard as she braced her leg and pushed against his shoulder, rolling sideways and landing him on the bedcovers with herself on top. "Now it's better." She unwrapped her leg from his shoulder and slid herself down over his hip, a victorious grin dancing on her lips.
There was a smile on the demon's lips as well. Hungry, admiring, adoring.
"I can't imagine any man able to handle you", he spoke, half unaware, eyes too absorbed by the beauty towering above him and the short, /painfully/ short distance between her heated flesh and his. His hands slid up her thighs, impatient and needy.
"They can't. But you…" She lowered herself, slowly, eyes closed and feeling every inch of him, enjoying all of him as he entered her. "I think ya could handle me", she breathed, opening her eyes again, looking down into his fevered eyes. "With a li'l practise."
A breath escaped his mouth, half a chuckle and half a moan.
"I'd more than happy to thank you for that practise, milady~"
He bucked his hips, watched her b*** jostle with the motion and loved the strangled m*** it drew from her lips. She dug her fingers into his chest and rocked her hips, rocked them as he began to thrust into her. He had intended to take his time and make love to her slowly - /she/ had intended to take it slowly, but the pace was set for them by entirely different things. Lust. Curiosity. Glances thrown in secret when the other wasn't looking. Familiarity built through shared experiences. Longing. Longing for this to happen, and all patience spent once it did. She would ride him like a thunderstorm, and he would slam into her like crashing waves against an ocean shore.
She was getting close; more and more noises slipping past the lip she bit to hold them in, her wet walls growing tighter and tighter each time he thrust into her. His pace quickened, spurred on by her lovely sounds and by the heat that pressed towards his groin. Ragged breaths rushed past his lips, ragged m*** of pleasure dragged out of his chest.
She arced, she cried out, she tightened fiercely around him and pushed him past the edge. They stilled, slowly; breathing heavily, coated in sweat, holding each other with cloudy eyes. She could still feel him throbbing inside her, still hard and still ready for more. Shura smiled, then smirked, then grinned.
"I don't think ya thanked me enough, yer highness."
"Is that so? Then I must try harder."
"I think ya must."
They had a long night ahead of them.
Haha forgive me! I've been meaning to update with the edit by SuperiorDimwit for this chapter but have only been able to do it as of now due to complications.