#AND took a deep soak in a cursed soul-crushing blood bath

[karlyboyyy]

Can’t escape the nightmares

[innaminitus]

Bloody roses

Pairing: Loki x reader

Request:  Hey. Could you create something of a mortal young woman who is lost in the forest and finds a castle abandoned (a bit like the beauty and the beast style) but it is loki who lives in it, very dark in his shadow before stairs, very alone, but he meets this light crossing this door and his heart is warming, he falls in love... (from @lokihiddleston)

Warnings: dark, Crimson Peak, the-last-season-of-the-borgias-ish romance with a dash or gore

Word count: 2489

A/N: once I’ve reread it it reminded me a lot of Romantic period, especially Mickiewicz, about how people in that era began to see life as something more spiritual than the classicists (is that a word in english?) and I just liked that. I hope you’ll like it as well. 

You’ve never felt such cold. Such bone-crushing, tears freezing cold.

You were marching through the forest for what felt like hours, your feet frozen from the snow, the tips of your fingers, even if hidden inside the leather gloves, so cold you couldn’t feel or move them anymore.

You were going to die. Alone, in this frozen, dead forest, bathed in the darkness of the starless light. Having pale moonlight as your only companion you forced your sore muscles to move forward, to lead you into hope of finding the end of the woods. You heard no sound but the squeaking of the snow under your feet and twigs breaking under your heels, followed by the heavy breath that was the harder to make the longer you walked.

You wrapped the remaining of your coat tighter around you, but it was just as frozen as your body, giving you no more than a weak, fake assurance of safety. Last bit holding you together from completely breaking apart.

Your legs hurt, thin ankle boots weren’t made for long walks and deep snow, and you soon felt them soaking, ripping apart even, letting the ice through the small holes in the material. There was no hope for you.

Hunger was also taking over your body, and the overwhelming frost assured you that you wouldn’t find any berries. If the cold wouldn’t kill you, hunger would. And if they both would fail, tiredness would finish the rest.

Tears flowing down your cheeks were unbearably warm, and yet even they froze in the middle of your cheeks or on the edge of your jaw. You couldn’t speak, your tongue was stiff and you were sure it could fall off anytime, and get lost in the snow somewhere near your fingers.

To pray was all you could do.

And someone, and it didn’t matter whether God or the Devil

heard your prayers.

*

He felt the soul in his forest long before shy knocking could be heard in the empty castle. He hoped, even if just a little bit, that the soul would die in the freezing winter ruling now in the cursed kingdom, that his peace will not be disturbed. Nevertheless, the closer it got to his castle, the more eager his heart was beating. He didn’t have any company for so long, after all.

You knocked, because that would seem polite. Even if the castle seemed abandoned, it was still much better than the forest. The garden leading to the main entrance must’ve been beautiful once, you recognized bushes of roses and lilacs, long dead from the harsh winter. Stone pavement was ruined, you kept tripping over broken pieces of it, wrecking your boots completely.

The door opened after the third knock and you murmured thanks, surprised that your vocal chords weren’t as frozen as the rest of your body. You looked around, searching for the person who opened the door for you, but didn’t find anyone in the dark entrance hall, only a beam of moonlight boldly entering through the massive window lightened the room you found yourself in. Just as quiet as they opened, the door closed, making you jump slightly, leaving you at the mercy of the shadow you saw hiding before the stairs.

“Good– good evening…” You struggled to say. “I’m– sorry to interrupt, but I was robbed while travelling back home, I got lost in the forest and– I’m freezing.” You didn’t quite understand why you kept talking to the frightening shadow under the stairs, all you knew was that the inside of the castle was delightfully warm and you would do anything to warm yourself up.

He didn’t say anything, just listened to the delicate voice of the girl he so hoped would die in the forest, eaten by the wolves and fear and that he suddenly felt the unreasonable need to protect. You took a step closer to him, the moonlight shone on your hair, glistening from melted snow. Another step and he could see your face, pale and frightened, and so beautiful.

You stood there, shaking, with pain and fear holding your heart, clenching onto your coat as if it was the only thing keeping you alive.

“Forgive me,” the shadow spoke suddenly and a man walked closer to you. His voice was calm and soothing. Once his face wasn’t hidden by the shadow you weren’t that frightened anymore. “I am not used to guests, as you may suspect.” He waved his hand and all of the sudden the castle was lightened by countless candles, warming the appearance of it, showing expensive furniture and carpets. You took the chance to examine your host. His clothing was clean and black, made of heavy, exclusive materials, his skin was clear of any blemishes and pale just as the moon you left behind. His beauty was somehow raw, but it was beauty nevertheless. “Please, if you’d kindly follow me, miss, I’d gladly help you.” He reached to you, and, perhaps enchanted by his charm you took the arm he offered and followed him to the room adjacent to the hall, which was immediately lit by the candles as well.

“Are you a sorcerer, sir?” You risked asking, somehow unbothered by the odd happenings at all.

He chuckled and you thought that the sound of it was pleasant.

“Yes, I think we might say so.”

The room was sumptuous, full of paintings and big windows, with sofas and armchairs looking like they were the most comfortable in the world. The fireplace was enormous, with a large mirror above it and an already lit fire inside. The man led you to one of the sofas and you almost heard your muscles screaming from pleasure when you sunk into the cushions.

“Thank you,” you sighed, sneezing almost immediately after. “I’m sorry…”

He just laughed politely and reached to your hands, taking the gloves off. Your fingers hurt and you didn’t want to look at the frostbitten skin, surely incurable. You would be lucky if you kept your fingers at all.

But in his warm hands the pain gradually stopped, to be replaced by the delicate shivers and finally the cold was beaten and you could move your fingers again. He took his soft skin from yours and you could see that your hands were untouched and healthy.

“Thank you, sir,” you murmured again, feeling that your eyelids became heavier and heavier with each moment. “Can I ask… What’s your name?” You held down a yawn, but the world around you seemed to be falling asleep as well.

You could only see his smile when he said:

“My name is Loki. Of Asgard.”

It must’ve been the Devil

who heard your prayer.

*

Delicate sunrays woke you up, and you felt surrounded with clouds and warmth, as if the rays were kissing your whole body, leaving you in bliss. You opened your eyes, fluttering your eyelashes, surprised to be well rested.

When you saw the black silk bedsheets, every memory of what happened to you came back with a force of a storm.

You were travelling back home from your old aunt’s mansion in the countryside near Cheshire, your carriage warm and filled with your belongings, when suddenly you stopped in the dark forest. You heard ungodly noises before, shaking, you forced yourself to move. The thieves were faster; they opened the door, ripped your dress when dragging you out, pulled your hair and laughed obscenely at your cries. The carter lay dead in the puddle of snow and blood, the horses run away, scared. The thieves turned away from you for a moment, to take your trunks out of the carriage, and you knew it was the only moment you could use to run away. So you did – you run until your legs were cramping, and run even after that, stopping only when you couldn’t see anything from the darkness of the night.

You were now in this odd castle, lying in a bed you didn’t fall asleep in, in a nightgown that wasn’t yours, with this strange, lonely man that filled you with the same sense of peace you felt on the graveyard. Dead, hopeless peace.

You slowly got up, amazed by how none of your muscles hurt, and wondered if he changed your clothes or used the unsettling magic on you.

He heard the delicate footsteps on the wooden staircase and closed the book he wasn’t really reading. Your presence in his silent home somehow made him feel slightly more alive, the lonely emptiness in his soul was being filled. He didn’t like the impact your short company had on him. He didn’t speak to anyone in what felt like ages, and you moved his heart way more than he’d want you to.

And yet here he was, waiting impatiently for you to wake up, just to see your rosy cheeks again and hear your voice fill the room. He conjured the food, probably way too much than you could eat in a week, but he just wasn’t sure what would you fancy for breakfast.

You walked through the door insecurely, your arms wrapped around your waist, the red nightgown contrasting with your paleness. You might’ve been the most beautiful mortal he’s ever laid his eyes on.

“Good morning,” he greeted you when he found his voice hidden deep in his throat.

“Good morning.” You almost smiled. “I couldn’t find any clothes…”

“I shall take care of that.” He wondered if the warmth he felt in his cheeks was shown on the outside. “But please, eat first. You must be hungry.” You nodded and sat on the other side of the table. He waved his hand and the food flew from the dishes and settled on your plate. He watched you take the first bite. “When you’re finished, I have a gift for you, Y/N.”

“How do you–“ You started to ask, but silenced when he raised his eyebrow. It was obvious how he knew your name. He was a sorcerer, as you called him.

You emptied your plate in no time, your eyes wandering around the room, around his face and hands, but not like a doe, afraid, searching for danger. No, your sight reminded him of a predator.

He got up when you cleaned your lips with a napkin and walked to you to offer you his hand. He longed for your touch like a starved man, as if your soft skin was the cure for all his sorrows.

You took his arm, your bare feet touched his polished shoe. He led you to the room next door, slightly nervous. Will you like his gift?

You froze when you saw what he’s done, your feet were wet as you stepped into something sticky, still slightly warm.

“I trust these are the men responsible for your misery?” You heard his voice somewhere next to you, but it sounded as if you were under water.

Yes, these were indeed the men that robbed you. With their throats slashed and guts spilling on the marble floor. You looked down, at the blood pooling at your feet.

You should be screaming. Running away from this castle, from this man as far as you could, and yet you didn’t feel scared. You felt odd sense of justice. You could die because of them. You could be frozen in the forest, eaten by the wolves you’ve heard. Your carter was, after all.

“Thank you,” you said silently, turning your gaze to the handsome stranger next to you. “This is truly thoughtful gift.”

He nodded once with a gentle smile that could melt the snow outside the castle.

“You are… welcome to stay for however long you please.”

He placed a hand on the small of your back, just because he couldn’t resist himself. Your eyes were locked on him, and he was more than delighted to know that you liked his present. He spent half of the night hunting down these blasphemers who dared to raise a hand on your perfect form. They didn’t deserve to breathe any longer.

“In fact,” he dared to say, “you can never leave. If you wish.” You titled your head. “This castle is… empty.”

He was nervous. Despite all he’s done and his power he was nervous about how would you react.

You let your mind wander. You didn’t really have where to go back to, your mother was dead and your father hated you for not being a boy. Staying in this strange place that filled you with unspeakable peace seemed as a way out of your problems.

“I’ll stay,” you said calmly, looking at the drying blood on the floor. “I’ll stay.”

*

Months went by and the castle seemed to be more alive once you took care of it. The winter passed and spring came, bringing fresh air filled with the scent of roses Loki brought to life for you.

You enjoyed his company. He treated you with your favourite dishes, little gifts and magic tricks you adored. You read poetry to him before you went to bed, took care of the garden and filled the castle with flowers you picked. You were content with your life, but the longer you spent time with him, the lonelier you became. Longing for little touches, long sights, soft whispers.

You were picking up the roses after they bloomed in marvellous shades of red, happy to finally enjoy the sight of them. Loki was sitting on a bench next to you, reading out loud a book about old kings and their wars, blood and love in uncertain times. You liked his voice, so deep and calming, you liked how his tongue formed syllables, how his lips moved after he licked them before reading.

“Ah!” You shook your hand rapidly, your finger pricked by the traitorous thorn.

“Are you alright?” Loki looked at you over the book and placed it aside when he saw the blood. “Let me see.” He got up and walked to you, taking your hand in his with his usual gentleness, examining the wound.

Slowly, very slowly, as if not wanting to scare you away he brought the finger to his lips, parting them just enough to lick the blood off your skin, the feeling of his tongue on you making you shiver.

He didn’t let your hand go and you didn’t want him to. His eyes travelled from your palm to your eyes, then settled on your lips, slightly plumped from the chill evening air.

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?” His voice no more than a whisper, the air dense suddenly, pushing you into his arms.

You let it push you, let it settle you in his warmth, to join your lips together and sunk in the taste of the words he just read, the blood and unspoken promises.

For it was, after all, the God who listened to your prayer.  

 ___

TAGS (let me know if your tags aren’t working, because they seem alright when I do them on my computer and then I look on my phone and they are broken):

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[rhotdornn]

[The Echo] Our Catastrophes

“Out of the greatest Storms doth spring strength for tomorrow.” – The Raven

A good deal of years back.

[Music theme]

“Sharlayan! Come, stay mine hand... Succumb, and speak to me o’ scriptures and their whereabouts. The throat o’ yours will thank you direly, once no blade lingers by, chillin’ it.”

Debris now dots this waning mercenary’s struggling gaze. Discs of silver fend and tremble in the aftermath of an eardrum-snapping cannon barrage—from one floating plank to another does his sight bounce, finding naught but dismay and rubble, hounding after the din and desolation had settled. After each plank, a waft of smoke trailed—their paths, tailed by a line o’ ashen dust littering the sloshing waves behind them as they ferried on. Flames still flickered atop some—this was a batch freshly ripped from the belly of a frigate, no doubt about it.

However did this come to pass...? We were but a simple force—not strapped for engaging in naval combat, but on drier shores. The Old World strayed not from the paths o’ the Northern Empty out of convenience—no, a firm route betwixt Eorzea and the Forum had been established, and no lucrative reason would draw one to a detour around the bloody North... A mere straight line from one mainland to another... And this carnage would’ve been wholly avoided. Brutes did not roam these wastes in mere legends, for a curse.

Our larger, mercantile vessel stormed the seas in the company of seven smaller divisions—mercenaries stocked to aid our cause of championing the seas to northern Eorzea. For a wonder, we never caught glimpse of our contractor... Word had it that he ne’er boarded deck, either.

Then, in the closing of one and the opening of another blink, hearty, clear skies saw ebony venom spill across their folds, and a massive pillar of fuming smoke drove in roves from the downed companies. All seven divisions now disposed of their contents within the bowels of the sea.

First came a blade o’ wind... Sharp and frigid as a flurry o’ snow. Through the blanket of smog it sliced, and through this window blood punctured... But not that of mine comrades, no—a colossal mast peered through the engorging flames and billowing smoke, bathed in crimson, and crowned with an orange leaf, born at its breast.

The tell-tale of this lot was not lost on me. Chance was it that either the King or Princeling sat ‘hind that steerin’ wheel. The tale of Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn... He who stormed’ in the wake o’ his sire Hyrtfyr Syhrachtynsyn—the Sunderin’ Shark, an’ supposedly late grand-sire, Etarellion. For a mercy... One had been rumoured t’ be kinder than the other when dealin’ out his hand o’ mercy.

As the ilms betwixt our ships had been bridged, I’d find such mercy... And such mercy, in turn, would find its blade fitted against my neck.

Paralysis, however, saw all my labours drink deep of futility. My cheek now married to the splinters of the deck as my head was pressed underfoot—the Captain himself deigned to entertain my misfortune.

“What’s the bloody use of tellin’, anyroads... If dey ain’t on the upper deck, y’can take a whopping guess where’ey might linger...” I sense myself growing weary of this charade—no sense for courtesy in the face of death, I think to myself. Even less so do my thoughts sympathize with his request—not after losin’ half o’ me mates to rampant cannon-fire.

“I... Must admit,” A smoky, drawn-out voice chirps against my good ear—I find my eyes to widen, recognizing it as feminine, growling with a low, rolling ‘R’.

“I can scarcely recognize the need for some scriptures, Dornn. Granted, they might sport use on southern markets, but Aerslaent... Will see little and less demand for them.”

At the very least now I sported a figment of an idea as to whose boot was certain to crush my lobe in, under the promise of cruelty.

“When was any mention o’ a price tag e’er made, sister-dearest?” From the exchange, bits and bobbles began to fall into place—siblings, if not in one form of the sentiment, then in another.

“Now, Rallyrwyda, entertain our guest. I’ve words with the Cap’n o’ this sorry-arse fishin’ boat.”

“What, then pray tell, is the point of amassing deckhands in the first place?”

The Captain spared her no quarter... And I felt the boot lift soon thereafter from its vantage point atop my head’s flank. Of course... A pack of Sea Wolves swarming the deck would tear any and all flesh from limb in their trigger-happy frenzy—a single person would chance upon more fortune interrogating a captive, rather than the eager lot storming the deck.

Suddenly, the cold kiss of the blade against my throat is severed—and replaced by cold, pale digits, half-gloved in ink-bloated black leather, gripping at my collar. His clutch was fast and unforgiving to pardon; his palm the size of my noggin, and his leather jacket perfumed by a stale cannon-powder scent.

“Who commands this ship?” His burning orbs drill into my soul—one visible scarred by the imprint of a blade, healed some time ago. His rain-soaked, sharp hair matching in texture of his iris, flitting across the mounting wind rampaging from the south.

“Through wind and brine, swept ‘cross the gyre of time... We are come, to meet at long last.” The cabin door never unsealed, nor unearthed a figure—all of a sudden, the ebony drift of a coat stood within the midst, quelling the chaos about. A black plumage fitted his longcloak, hooded with a raven’s beak looming over his forehead.

“A... Poet? I am coming to see why you suffered no difficulty claiming this ship, if it was commanded by him, Dornn.” The female chimed in anew, her hair promoting the same brand as their ship’s banner had. A deep crimson with orange highlights—and a pale, ghastly complexion.

“Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn and Rallyrwyda Hyrtfyrwyn...” From the darkened brink of his hood, the shadowy figure exposed naught—but the single flicker of twin emerald eyes, keenly addressing the siblings.

“Your time of meddling has come to a... Beginning.” The figure concluded, much to the befuddlement of the siblings.“Your time of meddling has come to a... Beginning.” The figure concluded, much to the befuddlement of the siblings.

“Right. We’ve no interest in petty prose. Hand over the scrolls. Accept your fate with the remainder of the ship.” The larger Roegadyn retaliated back, his sabre withdrawn from its scabbard—and my own frame finding a broken rib upon his hand’s release, and subsequent fall onto the deck.

“Passion... Pride... By thy hand many’ve been stripped of their life. Your first lesson shall begin anon.”

An oddity suddenly hooked atop my eye—I could feel it with my breath, spot it with my eyes, feel it filtering through my bloodied nostrils... The aether of the battlefield was stripping rightly from the downed carcasses... Yet, it returned not unto the Slipstream.

“I’ve hardly time to waste on deluded poetry. Stand yer ground.” The Sea Wolf barked back, hands fast with their grip atop his blade’s hilt.

“Speak of fate as seen fit—but these transgressions... I cannot permit. Ravenflock and Ebonshade, unto me!” The mysterious Raven drew his arms apart, beckoning to the heavens above. Through the dreadful wind a flurry of dark feathers began to stray—the aether of the dead suddenly began to clump together. To concentrate. To course into a single locus.

The siblings were at a loss for words—I could catch the hints from the corner of my eyes.

“What in the...”                                                                                      

“Rallyrwyda, with me. Dhem still suffers his afflictions, so we’ll spearhead this.

“...Right, right.” The female herself hinted at a more sophisticated weapon—a rapier, kissed by the sheen of moonlight.

The twin ravens suddenly shot through the rising tempest behind the ship, and from its bed—water began to swirl and ascend. A great pull began to draw the ship gradually in, conceived by a mounting pillar of water roaring in a dreadful sight—a hurricane.

“Even odds, then.” The Raven humoured the duo, calling to one of the approaching cloudkin. As it perched atop his extended palm, its plumage began to betray it—and from such a scatter, a blade was withdrawn. From the bird’s beak came the razor, and from its wings the hilt crowned the blade. A gorgeous specimen garmented by two emeralds serving as eyes to the face of the raven atop the blade’s hilt.

The Roegadyn seemed to heed his warnings little—into battle with hearts aflame they championed, the male taking offensive with his broad blade, and his partner following swiftly in tow. Behind the hooded figure she swept, thus pushing for an abrupt lunge—whilst her brother took the avenue of a more brutal approach—hurling his blade dead-on from above.

The mysterious duelist, however, spared no quarter, either—his waist motioned to a sharp left, pardoning the maiden’s blade by mere ilms—and his blade struck against the male Roegadyn’s sword, employing swiftness over brute force to redirect it—against his own sister’s weapon with a hasty thrust to the side.

“Wh-“ She had not expected that.

“...Hrmph.” He proved a notch more experienced in the art of dueling.

That didn’t satisfy their cravings, as it had seemed. All the while, the tumultuous hurricane sowed the seeds of destruction in the background—seeds, which it would very soon reap.

This did not evade the duelist. One large leap soon took hold of his step, settling him on a greater altitude—on top of the quarterdeck, whilst the twin Wolves still tarried upon the gangway.

[Theme transition]

“I trust that was enough of show-and-tell, fated Hyrtfyrdyn. Be that as it may, time runneth out on us. Time... Which we can ill afford to spare. Embershade, I summon thee!”

The second raven now dominated the skyline—but not for long. In a swift swoop it cascaded onto its owner’s shoulder, its own body surrendered to the cause—a longstaff began to extend from its form, curved and bent, beaten yet never broken. Of wood was its make, with neither gem nor trinket to adorn it in decor.

It was then that I finally could dwell on my thoughts—and doubtlessly, all those present, too.

The locus of all aether was hosted within his breast. All those who perished in the naval encounter... Every droplet of blood—none returned to the Lifestream yet.

“Get back down and show me your mettle...” The male Wolf seethed in a lowly growl, glaring at the cloaked figure from below.

“Sacrifice...”

“Dornn, hold—the storm! We cannot turn back, nor press onward... Its pull is too great—we need to rout back!” The female cried with her thoughts submerged in horror as she gazed upon the hurricane—a colossal tower of circling water, now capable of sundering an entire island with its brute assertion.

“Bravado...”

“Blast it... I’ve ne’er seen anythin’ alike it in all my seafarin’ years...” The male Roegadyn felt his palm betray him—his blade panged with a low clamor against the ground in awe, as his gaze climbed the monumental storm.

“Salvation...”

The chant dried out at a sudden notice. The raven-doffed figure gravely glared onto all those of attendance. For once, his voice thundered louder than the eviscerating storm towering behind him, and the content of his decibels carried powerfully ‘cross all ropes of wind.

“Hear me, Hyrtfyrdyn! This life of thine is forfeit. Weigh the feather, for it mustn’t be so—and to such end... Both of thee shall see the dawn of morrow. Rallyrwyda—ne’er forget thine love for those thy heart lost... Will lose. Guide thy brother when I cannot. Rhotdornn... Through this life ye shan’t walk alone—in the company o’ Her wilst thou abide, and with the companionship o’ the Lady of the Golden Leaf wilst thou both grow. Calamities may come, new, blank pages shall follow—but now both of thee must cling to thine gifts. Keep thy grandfather close to heart.”

His eyes bore a unique radiance, resolute and stalwart in the eye of the storm. Both weapons he suddenly set aside, bending both knees—and pressing his palms together as he knelt.

“What gifts—Dornn, what is happening?” Rallyrwyda clearly took no fancy to this type of development.

“...Would that I could tell you.” Rhotdornn took a single step backwards, every nerve in his body chilled to the marrow of his bones. “Hold... That...” Suddenly, a possible answer presented itself—and possibly, what the figure meant by the word ‘gift.”

“Sister, brace yourself—we need t’—confound it! I need to tell you somethin’—“

The Raven sliced through the storm with a harsh word of command—and all of the aetherial reserve welled up within him ignited—beginning to burn. His gaze shot skywards, and a solitary cry echoed through the heavens.

“Words o’ healing, words of woe—chants of safekeeping my command now make.”

Briefly he knelt in pause, eyes gaining focus within the vault of the swirling clouds.

“Limit Break—Final Prayer!”

Clouds began to wax around the raging torrents—the crown of the storm beset by gloom and smog as the murky sky churned. The eye of the storm took centre stage.

From the focus point of his glare, a pillar of light ripped through the heavens. Guided by his very presence, it soared—through the heavens it punctured, and through the throat of the hurricane it fended. The gut of the storm ruptured with light from within—through the dense coat of welling water reflected a layer of light—a proper pillar within the belly of the calamity. The beam then began to spread, swallowing the entirety of the scene in a brilliant setting...

The Raven’s head sank the droplet of a single tear suddenly shattering against the drywood beneath. The sliver of a whisper chanced upon the ear of none, for all of present consciousness dared not pry their eyes off of the rampage before them.

“Undying is mine regret... Unending, this lament. From thy slumber you must wake anew, to grant Light unto where darkness hath drawn forth.”

 Threads of golden brilliance began to fade away—stripped of luminous, honeyed texture, in an exchange for a radiant, silver grace. Where he may’ve been robbed of it—hope returned to the Raven’s emerald blink.

“...Thank you. Forgive me.”

A second presence began to strut across the relentless, lulling sea blanket. Aetherial in manifestation, it demonstrated unfathomable ease in plucking away the accumulated aether—and spilling it across the tempestuous, watery grave.

The prism of silver light erupted at once from within—needles of raw brilliance collapsing through the hurricane’s walls.

In heaps it roamed across the sea—swallowing any and all it chanced upon by whim of fortune.

...And whatever followed in its aftermath, is history.

History...

...And the hint of a feminine phantom within the heart of the storm, her aether beating with unquenchable scorn.

[Involved & mentioned]: @ladyrivienne | @werfollow | @rallyrwyda

[angelguk]

azrael - yuta scenario

Nakamoto Yuta - NCT

words - 4222

genre - angel!au, action

warnings - demons, violence, sehun + taemin cameos 

soundtrack - imagines dragons believer (x)

Water slide over your clothes, soaking into the material and causes it to cling to you like a second skin. You cursed softly, leaping over miniature oceans that covered the streets, keeping one hand above your head to prevent it from being drenched too. Tragically your fingers didn't provide enough protection and you could feel the droplets slinking their way down to your skull. Running down the road wasn't a great idea either. Yet the shadows of the sidewalks seemed like abysses in the dark of the night and no cars would dare drive now anyways. Not with the downpour of rain erupting from the heavens; even your vision was blurred by the droplets falling. It was as if Niagara Falls had relocated itself to the sky.

Your shoes were sodden too but you didn't mind; they weren't new and running home was the only option you had at the moment. Your car had refused to start and all the familiar places you knew had closed down for the night - which was reasonable considering it was past midnight - perhaps staying late the finish the file for Sehun was actually a terrible idea.

A cackle emitted from the dark stormy skies causing your heart to lurch in your throat. You ran faster now, not looking being to check if someone was following you. Footsteps couldn’t be heard over the vociferous, chaotic orchestra the rain conducted but your heart pounded in your ears. Every splash you made against tarmac sounded like drums going off in your head.

But you ran anyways, envisioning the bathe you'd take when you got home. How nice it would be in immerse yourself in warm water and how it would thaw your frozen body back to life again.

Then you curved round the corner, your feet crushed straight into stray slivers of glass and your eyes settled on a wreckage from hell. You halted, every muscle in your body taut as your bag dropped to the earth.

The car was sliver and its wheels sat staring at the grey sky while the roof lay beneath, crumpled like a delicate petal in the hands of a child. Glass strewn like fall autumn leaves catching the waifs of light falling from the streets lamps. They glowed like scattered diamonds, as if someone had abandoned their treasure. But then your eyes caught something else. Claret liquid oozed over everything, converting the road into a deep red sea and casing the glass in crimson speckles.

An arm lay abandoned out of the driver’s window, covered in scars and deep gashes, blood spilling from the wounds like water.

Fear prickled against your skin and descended into your heart like a boulder. You glanced around, searching for a living soul but none appeared. The roads was desolate and each shop on the sidewalk emitted no light. No one was around. No one at all.

Your trembling fingers scrambled for the phone in your pocket, hastily dialling the 911 number but the call was interrupted by another crack slicing through the heavy air. You tried again, no signal this time. Another trembling try and once again no signal.

You tore your hands through your damp hair trying to think of what to do. You could risk it and try to pull the person out, but what if you injured them even more? What if you killed them? What if they were already gone?

You tried again, typing out the number slowly, 9-1-1. Your quivering fingers hovered over the call button as a lightning strike slashed through the sky. The silver strike danced through the clouds, violent in the heavens. The glaring light dissolved into the air as swiftly as it appeared.

You watched it fade, your heart beating faster and your fingers still hovering over the call button. Gradually your eyes lowered back to the carnage, expecting to find the carnage how you first left it but something left you in shock. You leaped back, heart bursting out of its holding as you watched the stranger, cloaked in the darkness of a void, lower his head and crunch down in front of the wreckage.

His hair was russet, shifting to a darker tone as water drenched his skull. The dark locks fell over his albicant skin, sticking to his forehand. Every feature on his face was demarcated, as if someone had taken the care to carve them there. Dark eyebrows rested above light eyes - you couldn't see their colour from here but they appeared white, almost blending in with his skin yet they glowed like the sun existed with them. His lips appear pouty but they're drawn into an unforgiving thin line. The aura that radiates off of him was taciturn, controlled - even your body responded to his presence in an abnormal manner. Every hair on your body stood to attention and goose bumps trailed across the surface of your skin. You know you're not supposed to be here. Not supposed to be anywhere near him.

But you’re frozen, every cell in you was encased in a body of ice stopping you from moving even an inch. Your heart screamed in your ears; a rapid beat that you felt itinerant from your chest to the rest of your immobile body. Your feet wanted to run but your mind stopped them. All you could do is watch.

He leans over the body, trailing his fingertips across the visible arm but blood does not catch on his hand. His lips move to form words that you can't catch. Yet the air around the wreck begins to transform, shifting into a kaleidoscopic of swirls and waves, albicant in the amber radiance of the lamps. Steadily, the words the stranger speaks grow louder and you can hear his voice, but the words he speaks make no sense.

"Tu kaa sra srisr su dmuv sra voae srae daod," His voice is honey; thick and heavy yet there's something sweet about it. He’s melodious in the way he speaks like he's singing a song. "Vraoka raod sra voae bae srvuvar uk sraa I cumiira sraa su seqa srae srisr imsu ka." It's entrancing. You can feel your eyes grow heavy and you struggle to keep them closed. You're swaying, drawn in by the sound of his voice as if he was casting a spell over you.

Your eyes fall shut, submerging you in a darkness but then you force yourself to open them not wanting to miss a thing in case the stranger did something even more abnormal.

Frozen droplets greet your gaze, suspended in the air like crystals hanging from a chandelier. It was as if time had stopped. Alarm floods throughout your body. What the hell was going on?

You glance down, eyes flickering all over the place and you find the stranger cradling a white sphere within his hands. His watches it as it swirls and shifts transforming blue in some places and yellow in others but overall the sphere maintains its pure form of white.

Your feel you skin prickle as you look at him, muscles taut ready to sprint away at any instant. What the fuck did he just do? What is he holding?

Your brain instantaneously understands the urgency of the situation now. That stranger is clearly not human because no reasonable human would be able to stop rain in the sky. Or hold whatever the hell he was holding

Moving you left leg back, you'd intended on sneaking away but your shoes come in contact with the pavement and make a scraping sound that echoes through the deserted streets.

His head shots up and his eyes discover you in an instant. You gulp down the dread that appears in your throat, taking another hesitant step backwards - away from him. Eyes wavering your try to keep you gaze anywhere but him but those glowing orbs draw you in without him even lifting a finger.

They burn into your face, engraving elaborate lines over your skin as he examines you. His eyes are grey and white and fire all in one and they makes you want to run away. They make you want to sprint from his presence. They make you afraid.

He doesn't move, just choices to watch from a distant, the car wreck behind his figure and the white sphere clasped in his hand. His eyes are ferocious though, dragging themselves over your body like a savage animal. You can tell his wondering, wondering whether your worth it. For what you’re not sure but the thought alone terrifies you.

A hush inhabits the air, weaving through the space between both of you, thick and heavy. You view him through the reflections of the dangling droplets, waiting from him to make a move, your body on edge.

Instead a thundering cackle explodes from the skies, cutting the air in half and you look up, heart leaping, only to find droplets of rain hurtling into your face. Dazed you frenziedly glance around, startled to find the world has been brought back into motion. The stranger in nowhere to be found - it's as if he dissipated into the air itself. Like he'd vanished from the earth or perhaps he never existed.

You’re petrified and the only thing on your mind is getting into the safe haven of your home. Swooping up your bag your feet carry you like the wind, past spiralling streets and empty alleyways all the way home. You've stopped caring about the rain - it was only water anyways.

The sight of your studio causes a wave of relief to hurtle into you. Your legs pump faster, stamping though puddles until the door was right before you. They only stopped when you'd locked it firmly behind you.

Panting heavily, you wrenched off your dripping jacket, dropping it on the floor. Everything felt like ice to your numb body and food was not on your mind. You just wanted to forget every single thing you'd just witnessed. Every. Single. Thing.

You blundered your way to the bathroom, slapping your hand against the light switch. The cabinet was filled with various medicine bottles but you didn't have to look up you take the one you needed.

The pills were small, yellow, like bits of the sun dotted on the palm of your hand. You didn't count them, they were roughly five at least, just dropped them into your throat and swallowed them dry.

It took them a moment to get to work and you used this opportunity to strip the clammy clothes off your disoriented body while sauntering to your bedroom. The trail of clothes would be annoying to clean in the morning but right now the thought putting them away seemed even worse.

You collapsed into your bed, hauling the cool covers over your head and praying you wouldn't remember tonight. Praying you'd forget it all.

____

 You wake up in a haze. Your vision blurred and a pounding pain slicing through your brain. Warm rays filter in through the open windows, no curtain preventing their entry.

Confusion clouds your brain for a moment. You always close the curtains before bed, why would they be open-

It's like dunking a bucket of ice water over your head. The memory of the stranger staring into your soul was a vibrant and as vivid as the sun. Imprinted into your thoughts despite your attempt to forget it. And the blood covering everything. The hand, pale and dead.

Old feelings resurfaced within your heart, raging like a wild storm wanting to destroy everything in its path. You heart thumped into your chest as imagines flashed before your eyes. A graphic horrific movie -unwilling to stop.

Rolling over you slammed your head into the pillow below you. Forget, forget, and forget. Why was it so hard to forget?

 ___

 You used a different route to get to work that day. Since your car was still stationed at the office, you decided to take the bus. It took an extra fifteen minutes but it was better than passing that street again.

In the office, Sehun doesn't question why you were late. The files from last night were on his desk and he didn't need to ask to know you worked overtime. None of your colleagues as either, all of them occupied with their own work. Apart from Taemin.

The handsome man props himself on your cluttered desk, a probing look painted across his features.

"Y/N," He said, the gel in his hair gleaming underneath the harsh lights. "How did you get home last night?"

"I walked. Why?" You curtly replied.

"Your car was here this morning and it rained hard last night. You walked in that rain?"

"I had an umbrella in my car," You lied.

"Good, good." Taemin nodded his head, dragging in his lower lip. "But if you walked, you saw the car crash right?"

"What?" You halted, blinking repeatedly at him in hopes you’d heard incorrectly.

"The car crash? You didn't see it? It's all over the news."

The vein in your forehead throbs as he brings his laptop over to your desk, face lighting up like a child given a new toy to play with. You'd never understood Taemin's fascination with gore and bloody things. Maybe that's the reason he specialised in forensics.

Images from last night stare right back out you, the same as last night but now the rising sun can be seen in the background. You’re holding back the fear stuck in your throat as Taemin rambles on and on.

"His name was Soekjin, twenty-three years old - such a young age to die don't you think - anyways, he was driving way to fast down the street and his tire gave in on the corner. He skidded overturning the vehicle and crushing his head and rooftop of the car. He died on the scene, tragic huh."

You feel sick to your stomach but Taemin hasn't noticed the look your face has taken on. He continues rambling like a mad man about how Soekjin had tested positive for an overdose of pills and how the police were classifying it was a suicide. Mercifully, your boss, Sehun appeared and stopped him there, snatching the man by his arm and hissing into his ear.

Taemin turned purple, hastily apologizing to you while tripping over his feet to get away.

"Are you okay?" Sehun asked, concern painting on his usually strict face.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"I said I'm fine Sehun. Okay?" You insisted.

He nodded, chestnut hair moving with his motion. He lifted a hand to adjust the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. "You can leave anytime you want to Y/N. It's oka-"

"Said I was fine Sehun."

 ___

 A week passes by and everything sort of falls back into normality. No one mentions the car crash after the first day and Taemin doesn't speak to you for at least three days before cracking and taking you out to lunch. Sehun watches you carefully during the first few days, in case you had a panic attack - triggered by the news of the car crash - but after a while his gaze stops following you every time you enter the room. You were glad Sehun was a close friend of yours but he was also your boss and sometimes he forgot that.

As for you, the stranger from that night leaves your mind as more important things preoccupy it. Mostly the monthly report that you were behind in was needed in two days. At least it was before Mr. Kim Junmyeon requested it a day early. That meant you had to stay behind again to complete it.

The only light in the room came from your desk as the sun descended into the horizon leaving behind trails of fuchsia and violets waning into an infinite navy. Rubbing your eyes you squinted at the endless array of black letters scrawled across the pages, wishing you didn't have to read any of it but if wanted a pay check at the end of this month you had too.

It was well past eleven by the time you were done. The sky had lost the cool colours from before and had distorted itself into a black sea. You swung your keys in your hand as you closed up the office, glad this time you had your car working.

The trip to the basement was lonesome; the whole building was empty. Your car sat solitary in the centre of the concrete room. The clacking noise your heels made were your only company as you walked towards the vehicle.

Heaving open the driver’s door you fell into the seat and locked it behind you. Your keys slid into the ignition. You twisted it to turn on the car but nothing happened. You tried again, putting more force into your effort now.

Brum. brum, brum ,brrrrrrrrrrr.

Nothing.

"Fucking hell." You kicked open the door, leaving the key in the ignition. Your car had been fixed less than a week ago. What was wrong with it now?

You slammed your hand on the hood, popping it open to take a look inside. The mechanic had said last time that a wire had come lose. Hopefully it'd be a simple problem to fix.

You leaned into the engine, your exhausted eyes scanning for the problem. You immediately found it - a wire that'd been pulled from its fixtures. You grasped out your hand for it, quickly plugging it back into its holding.

"There. Hopefully that'll work-"

A vice from hell bound itself around you waist, hauling your body into what felt like pure steel as another hand descended on your open mouth, effectively muffling your screams. Your heart crashed into your chest, breaking through the cages that held it secure.

You tried to bit open on the palm of your attacker, but your mouth only tasted bitter ashes. Screams clawed your throat as spasms overtook your body. Every twist and turn you made only caused the grip on your waist to tauten, until the person was literally squeezing the air out of you.

"Sssshh." A breathe of death creeped its way down the side of your neck. "It'll be okay. Sssshh."

Tears streamed down your face but you keep on struggling, it was all in vain though. You could feel yourself drifting, your vision shifting and swirling before you. Abruptly the person was ripped from your being and you heard the thunderous thump as his body collided with the opposite wall.

You whirled around, gasping for air, only to find the same stranger from the car crash, still cloaked on obsidian but welding a vicious looking weapon that gleamed in the harsh lights, hungry for blood.

The stranger never spared you a glance, moving like light to the fallen body of your attacker. It looked like a mangle of bones and burnt flesh moulded into one gigantic mess.

His weapon cut through the air, slicing the man cleanly into two halves. Fire appeared from the cut, blazing azure and lapping up the man's body like a thirsty animal given water.

The pair of you watched him burn until nothing was left of his flesh. That's when his gaze flashed to you.

You didn't know sliver could burn but it did, creating holes in your face as he descended upon you. His face was even more defined up front, like God himself had been the one to carve it from stone. Without thinking you'd backed up against the bumper of your car, hands grasping on air searching for an imaginary weapon behind you.

The man's rosy lips twitched with amusement. Instantly he was stood before you, towering over your being as his eyes burned into yours.  However as soon as he appeared he was torn away by a creature that soared through the air. His weapon flew in the other direction, slamming into the concrete wall with enough force to make it crack.

Your screams filled the room as his body collided with the ground, spinning around to find that several other things like the one the man had just killed had creeped up on both of you.

They smelled like death, charcoal burnt skin covering their faces and voracious scarlet eyes watching you. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the stranger struggling with the creature that had attacked him. It clawed at his face, hissing raucously and spit dangling from its ivory fangs.

Terror swamped body and you didn't think as you sprinted to the driver’s side and banged the door firmly behind you, turning on the engine and pressing the gas hard.

The car spun into action, tires screeching against the basement floor before rocketing past the creatures that had surrounded you. Over the engines roar, hisses responded as they hurtled after your speeding vehicle. You press the gas harder, glancing back to find their figures swiftly increasing on your car.

Panting you pressed your foot down harder.

"OPEN THE GATE! OPEN THE GATE!" You voice was a siren in the night as you howled out the open window, praying the watchman would hear your voice and you wouldn't ram into the metal bars.

By the time you'd appeared in the vision of the watchman the gate was already open and the watchman's head dangled out of his shed, watching with mild shock was your flew past him and skidded onto the open road.

His eyes turned to saucers though, filled with horror, when they fell upon what was chasing you.

You didn't bother to glance behind, keeping your eyes on the road as your speed down the empty streets until the building began disappearing in your rear view mirror.

Your foot didn't ease off the gas though, you kept on driving at full speed focusing only on the streetlights you past. You heart was like a wild rabbits, slamming into your chest with every moment that passed.

And then you hit the corner.

Your wheels screeched as they skidded across the surface of the road. You smashed into the side of the driver’s door, forced down by gravity as your hands flailed at the driver's wheel trying to keep the car from turning on its head.

You grip on the steering wheel was tight enough to stop you from flipping over. The car instead spun, tires hissing as the rubber burned.

And then you stopped, facing the wrong direction but still alive. Air struggled to stay in your chest as you hung your head, gasping from each breathe that you took.

Smoke coloured the air white, carrying the acrid scent of burned rubber as you tried to recuperate. Everything seemed unreal. Seeing that man twice, those things, what he did to them. Everything.

Your body quaked, and goose bumps covered your skin despite the air not being cold. Your breath was still unstable as you lifted your head up. Eyes wide, expecting something to leap from the shadows.

Nothing, thankfully did and you let out a breath of relief, dropping your hands from the steering wheel. Your palms were sore and red; your grip hand been so tight it'd costed you a burn.

"I'm okay," You say, shaking your head to get rid of the abnormal feeling that’d descended upon your shoulders. "I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay."

Your mantra guided you the way home, calming your frantic heart. The whisper of those words lay on your lips as you pushed your key into the lock and opened the door.

You'd closed it behind you finally feeling safe.

"It took you a long time to get home." The voice crawls over your body as your whirl around, a scream floating out you throat but his hand slammed over your mouth and his eyes silenced it. "You didn't have run. I killed them all anyways."

You can't breathe.

"I am going to let go - scream and I'll hurt you." His hand slowly lifts from your mouth and the only thing you can manage to conjure up is the following.

"W-what do you want?"

His sliver eyes flash. "What I want… Hmm, it’s more of what I need, because if I don't get it, dire consequences await both of us."

"Well then what is it?" You just want him to leave. Want him to go and for you to forget everything.

"What I need Y/N," He leaned closer to your, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. His warmth engulfs you, feeling like a furnace grazing against your skin. You don't know how he knows your name but you’re terrified that he does. "What I need are your memories."

And then his lips crashed into yours, burning like hell as he pulls you close, lifting your head up to make it easier for him. His touch is fire and you want to pull away but the grip on the back of your neck keeps you there.  His lips dance over yours tasting like Hell and Heaven at once.

But then you’re been thrown into the door, your back crashing against the hard wood with a resounding thud.

A liquid as black as tar covers his pink lips and his eyes are a blaze.

"What the hell are you?"

a/n: fun fact finding a gif for this scenario was hard. anyways thank you for reading :) - fyra

(this was requested on my old account)