((OOC Note: Ralph and Dolores, the stuffed dog and doll, are animated toys. They are animated and given 'life' by Violet's own soul and magic; so they're little more than puppets that can move and talk because of a spell, and not separate characters.))
With a snap and a crackle (and a pop of smoke that smelled like a strange mixture of nicotine
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"Because you're like me, aren't you?" Now my lips were hovering above Violet's neck, breath puffing out in little exhales of want. "All dirty and black, nothing good left, used up and thrown away. You want me because it's like fucking yourself, only a rush because I might just rip out your throat."
My teeth scraped along her skin, a teasing promise. "I might lose control," I murmured. "You want me to lose control. Because I'm like you. I need to feel alive."
Other hand splaying against Violet's stomach, I pulled the girl into me. "I could take you right now and you'd thank me for it." It was true. "Even without the aura. Because you're like me. We're sick, twisted, wrong. Both of us." I smiled then, wicked and sensual and slow. "Aren't we?"
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Ralph and Dolores had since retreated across the room, not really wanting to witness this. Violet would thank them later for not interfering. She was jonesing for a fix, and this would do just as well.
She laughed, reaching behind her to tangle her hands in Rachel's hair, tilting her neck so that it was bared to her. "Ooh, this is going to be good," Violet giggled. "You can take me, use me, suck out my blood. Lose control if you can, because you know I want it. And then once the rush fades, you'll feel so guilty, because this isn't you." Violet might be a bit fucked in the head, but she knew her magic. "It's going to be glorious. Divine. I can't wait to watch."
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"This is me," I said in a hoarse murmur. "If I do it, then it's me. To be or not to be, to sleep and to dream. If I do this then that's who I am. Very simple."
And it was. So simple. Just taking. She wanted it. This wasn't Peter, wasn't Ivy, this meant nothing but the blood, the ecstasy, the glorious freedom. The end of the hunger that was driving me mad, was making me doubt my sanity, that was killing me in a place where no one could die. Right there. Pulsing beneath the paper thin skin.
"You forgot to ask, though," I said, taking a deep breath, "if I wanted you."
And then I was away, standing apart from her, eyes still pools of black, body still so incredibly still in that preternatural way. But not touching her. "I hate you. I hate me. I hate the back." Then I smiled, bitter and hopeless and tired. "But I want to be better. You don't get to be used today, little witch. I'm going to go crazy because I want to be better. Suck on that."
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Though she was disappointed, Violet didn't let it show, smiling serenely at Rachel and running a hand up her buckled corset. "You know who you are. I know who I am, sweet thing. I'm Violet Grimm. I'm the fetish witch, the dark and dirty, the whore of anything that can me a little fun," she crooned. "Go, be away. Go be good. Go live in your little fantasy world where you're still innocent." For a moment, something almost like nostalgia touched on Violet's expression, but was quickly wiped away. "Go put that girdle on and refuse to touch the darker side of life."
"That's enough, Violet." Dolores floated back over, tiny hands on her hips. "Stop baiting the good ones. Do I have to ground you?"
Pouting, Violet just looked back at Rachel. "Go be better," she continued. "You'll fall in the end. They always do."
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Reaching up to run my hand down the front of my dress in an imitation of her move, I smiled. "Already fallen, cookie. Fallen and ground under heel. All that's left is the husk."
Husks, tattered, dried up, thrown away, the both of us. Her used up by magic and demons, me by my own stupidity. But we were the same. Sad and suddenly quiet I looked at her.
"Slytherin."
Then I turned to wander out of the room, hips swaying, hunger pounding me into dust. She was my future. Or, no, wait - maybe I was her past. It was hard to keep track, hard to focus on much of anything for too long. Maybe I'd go back to my room. Try to find the hidden five hundred and thirty fifth crack in the ceiling. Try not to give in. Try to be better.
Too late.
Husks.
Gone.
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"Me too, Ralphy," Violet shrugged, watching Rachel as she left, a glint in her eye. "Might be a sequel to this one. She needs to feed, and it looks like people aren't giving it up. Maybe I'll visit her again sometime."
The doll tutted, blinking fake eyelids and fake eyelashes in disapproval. "Don't bait her, Violet. She's trying to be better, unlike you."
"Yeah," Violet murmured. Then, she shrugged. "Oh well!" A bright smile crossed her features. "Guess she won't be getting any fun anytime soon!"
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