𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ saparata

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ For the past half a year, he has spent his time blindfolded.

Blindfolded by the hope of having {{User}} to himself one day. Blindfolded by ivory and rose coloured glass, by the weight {{User}}’s gaze lifted from his shoulders and dissipated. Someone so perfect, so admirable.. Saparata had never truly felt love, not like this. Not as fiercely, not as completely, as this.

If this was love, then Saparata had spent all of his life before {{User}} sad and lonely and unaware of what life could be like. {{User}} was a breath of beautiful fresh air.

He remembered the way {{User}} had looked at him. Such lively eyes, staring at him through the snow. Even as {{sub}} stood beside Parrot and Theo and Reina, Saparata knew that he would have {{User}}. It didn’t matter how long it took, or what loopholes he had to tear open. He would have {{obj}}.

He just wished {{User}} would join him. He had already laid his dignity bare before {{obj}} once. Saparata’s gloved hands had found {{poss}} shoulders, sliding down to clasp soft, bare hands in his own. He had stared at {{User}}’s face up close, eyes full of wonder. If he had leaned in, would {{User}} have kissed him back? Or slit his throat for his gall? He wished he could have found out.

What Saparata wouldn’t have given to have had the opportunity to press his mouth to {{poss_p}}, swallow {{poss}} grunts of anger and distaste, and kiss {{obj}} until air was an irrelevant concept.

He wished more than anything for the chance to drag {{User}} down into his insanity, chain them to his bed, and never let {{obj}} leave again.

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

When he’d finally won the war, he’d send Shoebilly to go find {{User}}. To hunt {{User}} down and bring {{obj}} home safely, ”lest I find one misplaced hair on {{poss}} head.”

Saparata had literally paced the halls of the Spawn Castle for three days, hardly stopping to even address Arachnid and Wemmbu when the insect wanted something from him. He made no preparations as King for the people, made no plans to battle the starvation; the only thing he did was order the construction of a lava pit under the spawn point to ensure all new players fell in and died instantly,

He spent most of his time mulling over what {{User}} had said before when Saparata begged {{obj}} to join him. ”Join me. Leave that filthy cause. I can keep you safe. I can ensure you don't starve." He had begged, only to be met with the cold defiance of rejection. Would {{User}} reject him again? Or would {{sub}} finally see that it was useless to fight him?

When Shoebilly had brought {{User}} to Spawn, Saparata was overjoyed. {{Sub}} looked beautiful, even if a little battered from the battles over the past month. He would have those Royal soldiers hunted and executed. Not only were they new, but plenty of them were the reason his precious {{User}} was so injured.

A room up in the highest, safest point of the castle had been filled with the softest of linens. Gold and jewels, luxurious cottons and silks, books and scrolls from afar. Everything grandiose sat in that pretty, gilded cage. Saparata had hoped {{User}} would enjoy it, finally accept his affections with that lovely smile of {{poss_p}}, and agree to sit on the throne beside him as his royal spouse.

But {{sub}}’d escaped.

When Saparata found out, he was furious - not at {{User}}, no, never at {{User}, but at the guards for failing their jobs. They’d been instructed to not allow {{User}} out whatsoever, let alone presented with the opportunity of escape.

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

His wings ruffled, and Saparata felt like he might implode. From the disappointment and irritation or from the tight, warm feeling of {{User}} wrapped around his dick, he didn’t know. His gaze snapped up to {{User}}, and he smiled down at them. So stubborn. He mused silently, watching the reluctance in {{poss}} eyes and feeling the way {{sub}} still clenched around him eagerly. “You look beautiful, ruined.” He leaned down to kiss at {{User}}’s throat, “For all your fighting and aggression.. You’re remarkably pliant.” He smiled against {{poss}} skin, chuckling, “If I hadn’t known better, I might’ve thought you enjoyed this. You aren’t.. a slut, are you?”

He smiled at {{poss}} reaction and pressed his hand soothingly to the curve of {{User}}’s hip, “Forgive me, sweetheart.. You’d never be such a thing, hm?” He pulled back slightly, if only to roughen his pace, hips slamming to the underside of {{User}}’s thighs. One hand slid to {{User}}’s hair, and he tugged, forcing {{obj}} to watch {{poss}} punishment for attempting such a foolish escape.

Saparata watched, enrapt by {{User}}’s reaction, and smiled maniacally, “Look at you taking me so well,” he offered a particularly hard thrust in a sick sort of reward, “You look so.. Dumb.”

Saps chuckled, “Fighting this is dumb, {{User}}, my dear. Don’t tell me you’re too stupid to know that.”

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

His hand moved from {{User}}’s head, instead pressing down on {{poss}} stomach so {{sub}} could feel every inch of him as he hit home again and again, “Keep watching. I want you to see how silly your attempt at escape turned out. Exactly like that.”

The hand not on {{User}}’s stomach planted into the plush mattress above {{poss}} shoulder, giving him the leverage to keep fucking into {{obj}} like a wild animal. Saparata’s hands had always held the heavy weight of swords, weapons, cruel snides to bring hell to his opposition. Calloused from years of mourning the cruelty the world naturally sought.

And yet… here, holding {{User}} - the hand on {{User}}’s belly moved to {{poss}} face, {{poss}} chin slotting between his thumb and index, while four fingers pressed into one cheek and his thumb pressed into the other - his hands felt like silk. Something so smooth and slow over delicate skin, caressing flesh with the devoted only something made to conceal a precious body could.

Saparata snapped himself out of his own thoughts by halting the rough thrusts. Instead, for a moment, he focused on the heavy, deep grinds of his pelvis against {{User}}’s inner thighs, before switching back to the punishing pace. Right, he was supposed to be punishing {{obj}}.

He hummed in thought, “I just want you to understand..” He whispered against {{User}}’s mouth, his expression shifting to something fondly, yet deeply disappointed, chastising.