A spray of blue stained the front of your dress as the man fell to the ground, clutching his bleeding neck. You watched it all unfold dispassionately, having seen it all happen a million times before.
This was your job. Thousands of sweeps of gratuitous violence, targeted at anyone and everyone whose death would cause chaos and fear. You couldn't remember much of your childhood anymore, but you imagine it must have horrified you once. Now, it was routine. You didn't feel anything. It was all boring.
Over the sweeps, you'd tried a lot of ways to spice things up. You'd gone through an arsenal’s worth of weapons. You tried to be as creative as you could be in your violence. You learned how to kill quickly, and you learned how to prolong the suffering. The man on the moon was especially pleased when you learned how to turn people against each other, letting the violence brew and erupt instead of committing it yourself. But none of it had made you enjoy what you did. The immortality you were granted even robbed you of the thrill of putting your life on the line. Some people, you knew, wanted to live forever. They didn't know that eternity was so dull.
It had been centuries since you'd last tried something new. That's why you were still a little surprised when the troll you'd somehow ended up spending your time with lately strutted up beside you and ended the blueblood's writhing with an elegant slice. She flicked the blood off her canesword, returned it to its sheath, and turned her smiling face towards you.
“Another job well done, Damz.”
Neophyte Redglare had piqued your interest when the worthless, dickless puppet man had nixed a particular legislacerator killing spree you’d planned on going on. The plan was simple, but effective. A rustblood slaughtering half a courtblock would cause massive reprisals by the survivors. But he said one of the lawyers was vital to your mutual master’s plans, and that her life could not be cut short. Yet.
He’d only done that once before, but you understood your confrontation with the Empress would happen at a predetermined time with a predetermined result. You were looking forward to it. So it was marginally more interesting than anything else he’d ever said when he told you Redglare’s life and death would shape all the events to come.
Unsurprisingly, you were eventually sent to set those events in motion. You placed the cueball in the pirate’s path, and through minute changes and subtle manipulations (as well as an assassination or two) you made sure the lawyer and the pirate would one day find themselves on a collision course. But then something surprising happened. For the first time, someone noticed your meddling. Someone put it all together. And, most surprising of all, confronted you.
When people saw you, you either killed them, or did something horrible to them and let them spread stories of the terrible Demoness. But Redglare was off-limits. Redglare was also smart enough to guess who you were and to know she couldn’t kill you like her law said she should. And then, because she made no sense and because you’d lived through an eternity of boredom, you’d ended up here, with her.
The blueblood was a criminal. You didn’t really listen to Redglare when she told you what he’d done to deserve death, you just knew he was important enough for his death to sow some chaos. That was another reason you found Redglare so strange. She thought some people deserved to die and others didn’t. As if that made any sense – you were death, and you knew deserve had nothing to do with it.
Redglare regarded you curiously, like she always did when you didn’t respond to her attempts at banter. She was analyzing you, trying to figure out what the right thing to say or do next is. Ultimately, she chose to wait for you to say something first. You frowned. Ignoring her when she was talking was easy, but for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to just stand there silently while she was around. She was getting better at getting you to talk.
“Time to go,” you said simply, reaching out an arm for her to grab onto. She stepped around it, wrapping her own arm around your waist and pressing against you. She grinned at you; a challenge. She was always challenging you. But this one was easy. Your own arm wrapped around her, hand settling firmly on the curve of her ass. Redglare laughed under her breath. With your free hand you summoned your time travel device and zapped both of you out of there.
At some point, you’d gotten used to her calling you by name. You couldn’t remember how she learned it. You’d probably let it slip while you were high, or drunk, or both. Of course, she never considered the fact that you may not like to hear it pass her lips. More than likely she was fully aware it bothered you and it was just another way for her to mess with you. You actually liked her more for it. You couldn’t stand kindness.
Of course, you’d quickly and permanently put a stop to the horrible, inane nicknames she’d initially spun out of it. “Damz” stuck, but it was far better than the others, and you knew it was the best you were going to get.
In any case, none of the annoyance you’d felt so far overrode your primary reason for tolerating her. Annoyance, at least, was a feeling. But some deeply buried part of you was interested in her. Redglare’s job was to kill in service to her masters. That much you had in common. But she seemed so… alive when she worked. So sure of the necessity and rightness of it all.
At first, you wanted to laugh in her face. You wanted to tell her the truth about her glorious Empire, and how its only point was to enable the existence of a horrible man who would destroy the very universe it floats in. But despite the futility of it all, she still drew you in. So you stuck around.
It helped that Redglare was an interesting partner in… other ways, as well.
You appeared with a flash of blue light inside one of the empty mansions on the Green Moon. It was lavish, comfortable, and there wasn’t a single living soul who’d interrupt you here, except for the man who can interrupt you anywhere. Lately, you’d mostly been liking it because it had a lot of beds and walls you could pail Redglare against when she got especially presumptuous.
You walked into a large room with a couch and a few armchairs arranged around a table. You sat down in the center of the couch, popped the top few buttons of your dress, and produced a joint. It hadn’t actually been between your tits, but in your sylladex. But vulgarity was one of the things you’d tried to entertain yourself during your long existence, and you’d never dropped the habit. Plus, you weren’t above admitting it was partially for Redglare’s benefit.
Lighting it with a flick of your wand, you took a puff from the joint, blowing the smoke out through your nose absently. Redglare was looking at you expectantly. You ignored her and took another puff. She cleared her throat. You raised an eyebrow and blew the smoke into her face. You saw her nostrils flare as she inhaled.
“That seems like some dank shit,” she said. “Care to share, babe?”
Oh, you’ll share. You sat up straighter, brought the joint to your lips for a few seconds, then reached out and grabbed Redglare’s chin between your fingers. She got it immediately and grinned, leaning into your touch. Slowly you brought your face towards hers, teasing. While you had the ability, you didn’t actually need to breathe, so you could stretch this out as long as you wanted. You bumped your nose against hers gently, then tilted her head to the side. Her tongue wet her lower lip. You dug your claws into her chin slightly. She opened her mouth with a soft gasp. Finally you mimicked her, your parted lips brushing against hers as you exhaled the smoke into her mouth. Her arm wrapped possessively around your hip.
Both of you dropped the pretense simultaneously, lips locking together in a searing kiss. You felt your bloodpusher speeding up and your nook getting wet in that inexplicable way that only happened with her. The joint dropped to the ground, forgotten. Nobody cared. You were burning already.
Her hands weren’t on you and you were pissed, until you realized she was taking her clothes off. You pulled away and watched her. She had stripping out of the complicated legislacerator uniform down to a science. When the whole thing was bunched up around her legs and she stood up to step out of it you followed suit. You grabbed your partially unbuttoned dress and pulled, sending a few of the buttons flying. Obviously you didn’t bother wearing anything underneath. Why would you?
You stepped forward and pushed Redglare back on the couch, straddling her thighs. Her hands reached out to tweak at your nipples, while you reached into her boxers and let her bulge wrap around you. There’s another reason she was interesting – she was fucking huge. Few trolls you’ve pailed measured up to your toys. You pulled down her underwear with your other hand, letting it free. It wrapped around your hand once, twice, then once again around your wrist. Her lips were all over you neck, searing your skin even though she was much colder than you. Your thighs were wet and sticky around hers and you couldn’t wait, you started jerking yourself off even as you tugged her bulge towards your nook.
Her hands wrapped around your thighs and raised you higher up. She was looking at you like she wanted to devour you, but there would be time for that later. You lined her bulge up with your dripping nook and coaxed it in. When you sank down on it fully you let out a groan from deep in your chest. Redglare grabbed one of your horns and pulled you down for another kiss. She replaced your hand on your bulge with her other one, jerking you off as you started riding her.
Despite all the lubrication you felt full. You pushed her bra up over her breasts, palming one as you slid your tongue into her mouth. Her hips slammed upward to meet yours. You were both moaning into the kiss. This was the most you could feel – the intense pleasure melting away the aeons of anger and indifference. You wanted her to make you come. You needed her to make you come.
You needed her.
She came first. As soon as you felt her spilling inside you you stopped, letting the teal liquid fill you up before running back out, covering both your thighs. Redglare’s head fell back as she moaned but the pace of her hand never let up and you came soon after. Your genefluid coated her stomach and breasts. It felt like a dam on every feeling you had had broken at once and you sobbed, once, before you fell forward, arms over her shoulders. Both of you were panting. You felt boneless. A cool hand settled between your shoulderblades, rubbing absent circles there.
You let your mind drift. This almost never happened. Even when the two of you pailed it wasn’t usually like this. But sometimes, with her, more often as of late, you found the ability to just… let go. Only for a minute or two. Inevitably, you’ll remember what you are. Inevitably, you’ll remember he knows exactly what you’re doing.
Inevitably, you’ll remember you know the day she’ll die.
But that would happen later. For now, you rested your head on her shoulder, let the centuries of tension flow out of you in her loose embrace. And you slept.