#because his surface-born wife can't stand the dark and he can't stand the light

[invinciblerodent]

why do I always wind up with AUs in my head where the primary love interest of my character dies a tragic death

I might need to unpack that in myself a little bit, kind of

[song-of-kalinaw]

BASIC INFORMATION

Human Host

Name: Lilith Selene Lair

DOB: October 16, 1996

Ethnicity: Korean-American

Eye color: Dark Brown

Hair: Black, waist length

Occupation: Socialite, Empire Heiress

Current Location: Seoul, South Korea

Demoness

Name: Lilith

DOB: [information redacted]

Origin: Garden of Eden

Entity type: Original Succubus

Eye Color: Black Onyx

Hair: Black, waist length; morphs to preference

Current Location: Seoul, South Korea; Interuniverse travel

PERSONALITY

Human Host

Lilith Selene Lair, the mute heiress to the Lair Group of Companies, has her life planned out for her even before she was conceived. But after being born with a heart problem and spending most of her childhood in the hospital with only her brother as company-- she was known in their circle as the quiet princess, not just because of her mysterious mutism but because of the timid personality she adapted after her stay in the hospital.

She can be seen mostly keeping to herself but come forums or parties organized by her family or their friends, Lilith can play quite the host with her handy tablet always ready with a funny retort or an interesting inquiry. The heiress is also fond of kids and pets, which is why on warm afternoons or in the early mornings, she'll visit the park in their gated community to watch the toddlers play or pet a dog or two.

In her free time, she mostly stays indoors in the estate library poring over books or in her sunroom, just painting landscapes or abstract art she wishes to share with her brother in the slim chance he'd remember her.

Demoness

Lilith, the mother of demons and Adam's first wife, has learned to love partying. She would internally roll her eyes and offer snide remarks at her human host whenever the latter would attend functions and formal dinners-- the elegance wasn't lost on her, but after centuries of holding court at Pandemonium, the formal parties has simply grown to bore her.

On the chance that her host would slip and unleash her, the demoness always finds her way to bars and clubs, just taking her fill of alcohol and sex; creating an underground image for the heiress. Reckless and determined to have her moments of fun, Lilith would sometimes even alter her host's appearance so she can disappear to some random country or hop in a lover's yacht and not show up for days or weeks at a time, feigning sickness with the help of her human doctor friend.

BACKSTORY

trigger warning: description of rape, cursing, violence, death disclaimer: this story was written in the point of view of lilith (the human host) and lilith (the first woman, mother of demons). God and adam was depicted here as what the writer assumes is how lilith (the first woman) saw them. please don't take offense in the story Her first memory came in a flash of light before her eyes, mere moments before she heard the beeping of machines and the antiseptic in the air fills her nostrils. She's back on her hospital bedㅡ and it feels wrong, like she shouldn't be there. Wearily, Lilith opened her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of her hospital room. The familiar surrounding easing her worries, which if she takes time to think about is actually sad on her part. She's spent more time in this ward than on her wing in their estate. A depressing thought considering it's not something any teenager can normally stay. Unfortunately for her, normal has never been part of her upbringing, which also could be the reason why its her brother, Lucien, standing by her bedside with... wait, is that blood? She reached out, earning herself a smile from her beloved brother, but when she tried to speakㅡ panic came over her body, her lips were forming words but only incoherent sounds seem to slip out. I can't speak. What's happening to me? Her panicked gaze find Lucien's, frantic tears already rolling down her cheeks. Brother, help! was what she wanted to scream but no words escaped her mouth. And amidst her confusion and panic, a voice at the back of her mind demands her to shut up. Whose subconscious tells them to shut up? Her confusion at this new development was enough to abate her tears and panic. But instead of getting an answer, not that she was expecting one, a wave of new memories washed over her. In quick succession, flashes of memories flooded her mind resulting to a terrible headache coupled with the erratic beeping of her heart monitor. It felt wrong, as if they are a memory of someone ancient and yet she's looking at them from their perspective. She saw a blazing warm light together with the sound of birds chirping and the smell of crisp summer air. There was a man with her, holding her a hand... and another, who felt like he could be their Father. Came the next memory, it was of her and their Father. Somehow they were talking about Adam and how he wanted to sleep with her. She came to their father because it felt wrong somehow. She was happy just helping around, caring for the animals and plants. But now... The memory faded into black but the unsettling feeling at the pit of her stomach remains. Who owns these memories? The next memory filled her with dread. It was her Adam on top of her, forcing her to submit, telling her it was their father's wishes. They needed to reproduce, he said. The Garden needs more caretakers and it is their duty to care for all that was created by the Father. Lilith was sobbing now, feeling her skull about to crack open from the sudden tsunami of memories. Is this a dream? She couldn't quite tell. Next came another memory, this time it was of her refusing Adam's advances. It felt as if some time has passed and she's now known how to stand for herself. And there on her periphery, children. The sight of them makes her heart full right before the memory fades. Lilith's feeling all the emotions associated with the memories even when they are not her own, but she somehow feels a connection with whoever is projecting them on her. Keep watching. You'll understand. Now she's hearing voices on top of the dreams but the sense of doom in the pit of her stomach and her growing hatred for the man she knows as Adam has kept her sobbing silently on her bed. She feels Lucien give her hand a squeeze, grounding her as another wave pulls her under. This time it was Adam pushing her down and forcing her legs open with his knees. She spat at him in disgust, mustering enough force to push him off their bed while she stands over him, foot pressing on the inside of the man's thighs. "Lilith,

you witch!", he grunted as she pressed the heel of her foot harder on his thighs. Who gave this man the idea that he can control everything? They were made from the same soil, the Father gave them life as equals and yet... Another memory surfaced, this one felt heavier than all the other that came before it. She's barely aware of Lucien shaking her awake, his voice laced with worry as her heart monitor gives a series of beeps. She heard a booming voice ordering the archangels after her as she fled through the dessert, towards the only salvation she's heard of: The Red Sea. No angel of the Father will dare cross the shallow waters without fear of falling from His grace. Adam has been using her children to keep her in The Garden and do his bidding, forcing himself upon her and expecting her to just bite her tongue and part her legs like a mindless whore. But she's grown tired of protecting his ego and the children she so dearly loved. Enough is enough. She'll come back for her children just as soon as she finds them a safe place to live, away from the judging eyes of the Father and the self-centered ways of Adam. But luck was really not on her side. As soon as her feet landed on the wet loam bordering her promised salvation, three archangels loomed over her-- all of them pointed spears of heavenly fire at her tired body, ordering her to go back and serve her husband. All will be forgiven, they said. But she's no fool to believe any of their words especially when its the Father that sent them after her. The same Father that she first ran to when Adam suggested they sleep together. The same Father she expected would protect her. No. She will not turn back now and have Adam control her life for the rest of their days in The Garden. She would rather die than serve an egomaniac who sees her not as an equal but as an object created for his own wanton needs. "We'll ask one last time. Come back with us to The Garden or the Father will kill a hundred of your children for each day you spend out of Adam's sights." At this, Lilith choked on a sob. She spent years taking all she could of Adam's and the Father's demands... would it be so wrong to choose herself this one time? With a heavy heart, she turned towards the cold and calculating gaze of the archangels. If she goes back, she will suffer by Adam's side and with him as role model, it won't be long until their children start to follow him by example- and that's the last thing Lilith would want for her children. "Tell your Father that I will never take a single step inside The Garden again, nor would I like to set my eyes on Adam. My children would be better off dead than be raised by someone more obnoxious than filth.", and with this, she felt her heart broke knowing the Father heard. The memory faded into darkness but the heaviness in Lilith's heart stayed, leaving her sobbing on the bed with that sense of impending doom. She knows that wasn't the end, for whoever was showing her the memories has only grown more aggrieved. Feel my pain, pet. That voice- filled with resentment and hate. She knows she should be familiar with the story unfolding in her head but somehow she can't recall who it was about. She finds herself gasping for air in between her sobs. Lucien cradling her in his arms. "You'll be okay, Lili." But somehow she can't find comfort in his words. Not this time. With these thoughts ringing in her mind, she was once again pulled under- a crushing feeling of hatred and need for revenge pressing in around her. She was standing on the same wet loam, The Read Sea a sprawling landscape before her. But this time no angels can be seen on the horizon. It has been years since her heart broke for her children, and she mourned their deaths. She still does. But no amount of mourning can ever get the pain of a mother losing her child off her chest. She will not rest until both Adam and the Father suffer from the things they've put her through. One thing she learned from denouncing the Father was that her original protection is gone. And that The Red Sea

is where all the lascivious beings gather- a vast majority of them giving her what she needs and satiating her hunger for the pleasures of the flesh. She'd have to thank the Father for her gift to procreate as more of her children grew from the seeds these monsters produce every time they bed her. It was on one of those nights, hundreds of her children sprung out from the seed her lovers released on the earth, that he came. She heard news of his fall- the brightest angel stripped of his rank: Lucifer Morningstar. Fate has brought them together, it seems. They spent nights creating more Children of the Lilim, hushed promises exchanged in the heat of passion. He promised her revenge and delivered, getting Adam and his new wife out of The Garden after one too many tricks to go against the Father. She enjoyed her time with him, even spent millennia ruling the pits by his side. But she got bored. Thinking of new ways to punish the damned has started to grow stale. And that's when Lucien has made a summoning. Her brother summoned a demon. But why? She felt chills run through her body. She wasn't sure she wanted to hear an answer. But of course, the entity responsible for the memories have other ideas. She's suddenly aware of herself instantly stopping from sobbing, an amused smile spreading over her lips as she pushes Lucien off her. She's aware of the motions but couldn't control any of them. Hush now, pet. I'll play nice with you, just don't do anything stupid. Without meaning to, she suddenly became aware that she's now a prisoner in her own mind. Or what used to be her mind. "Hello, Lucien." The voice that came out of her mouth was melodic, lilting in a way that makes it sound like she's about to sing a lullaby- and this made her brother smile. But I couldn't speak when I woke up. "That's right, pet. You can't. But I can." Her brother's eyes widened, "Lili... who are you talking to? Are you feeling alright?" He attempted to take her hand. "Should I call your doctor?" She wanted to scream yes- do anything to let him know of her presence. "Oh stop with your acting, boy. Don't pretend you're really concerned now when you've thought about her death countless times before." A childish giggle escapes her lips while she pulls his shirt open, displaying the pattern of blood on his pale skin. She finds his gaze then, understanding of the situation finally dawning on him. "What were you thinking summoning someone you have no idea of containing? Creative choice using your sister as host. I kind of like this youthful body." Lucien, what is she saying? You wouldn't... "Oh but he did, pet. That's why I'm here." Lucien's shoulders slumped, silent sobs wracking his body as the gravity of what he's done caught up to him. "Now, where were we? Oh right. The price for your stupidity." She claps her hands, like a child getting ready to unwrap her presents on Christmas morning. "First, your sister's voice. I'm not as heartless as you think so I'd let her play once in awhile but without her voice." She adjusts her body on the bed, mindlessly pulling at the tubes connecting her to the machines. "No soul shall hear her voice again, unless of course when it's my time to have fun with her body. A good deal, don't you think?" "Next Lucien, is the memory of something or someone you most treasure. We both know who that is." She means me. Lucien began to protest but was met with nothing bad a dismissive wave of her hand, "Now boy, who said this was a negotiation?" "You will lose her. But you will forever have the feeling of losing something you hold dear- that empty feeling in your chest that will only grow as time passes. It will consume you, dear boy. And the pits will be there once it does." And it was with these words and Lucien's pleading and guilt-stricken face, did her gaze start to darken- her consciousness getting lulled once again into slumber. You'll always look for him. And she knows she will. The worst kind of mourning after all, is when the one you lost is still alive but will never be back in your life again

no matter how much you wish for them to be.

[oneeyedmask]

The capital of the Jötunn Empire, Dämmerung, had an excited buzz that early morning. The sun had not yet risen when the news spread from person to person, door to door, tower to tower, and far beyond the gates of Dämmerung; a new prince was to be born that morning.

Crowds gathered outside the palace, wrapped in cloaks and blankets, huddled together for warmth in that cold, spring night. Their gazes were up at the palace's terrace where they awaited the confirmation of the news. They whispered amongst each other as the time dragged on, all smiles and excitement. Vendors and merchants began setting up shop around the crowd, expecting a grand harvest.

The stars that spangled above faded as the black night declined into a cerulean heaven from the arising light of the sun over the valleys. Finally, as the sun peaked its head across Dämmerung, a blonde Jötunn Knight in golden armor walked out and pumped his fist, beaming at the crowd. The crowd cheered in elation and the bells of Pagan churches rang throughout the city.

Inside the palace and the bedroom chamber where the news had been born from, the Jötunn Empire's knights, warlords, princes and princesses had gathered to witness one of their newest High Princes. They stood around a large bed, some weeping as they looked on at their Queen cradling a miracle before their eyes.

Frigga held her newborn child closely to her, now sitting upright on the bed. She was sweating and dark circles clung beneath her eyes, but she was smiling with a mother's warmth.

The baby's golden eyes looked on curiously from beneath its white blankets at its mother, then at the crowd, and then at its blue-haired father who was kneeling beside the bed with tears in his eyes. Osmund came off his knees and kissed his son on his blonde head and then Frigga on her forehead.

"He did not cry," said Frigga, her voice shaky.

A titan of a man with burning red hair let out a hearty laugh, slapping him in the back, "But this one did!"

"Cut me some slack, Logan," Osmund chuckled, stretching his back. "I know you wept when Thoros was born, I was there."

"Like a maiden!" Logan barked, beaming. "What will be the child's name?"

"Arthurius," Frigga declared, brushing her baby's cheeks with her thumb.

"I'll tell the crowd. They're gonna love it!" said the blonde knight with golden armor. He walked back out into the terrace and shouted, "HIS NAME IS ARTHURIUS!" The crowd responded with a chorus of cheers and he strutted back into the room, grinning.

"You seem to love doing that, Edward," Osmund remarked to the blonde knight.

"I was born to please crowds, it's in my nature! Let them be excited! It's the first time royalty has been born in the empire in a time of peace."

Frigga nodded thoughtfully, then looked up.

"Ymir, let the kids in, they'll want to greet their new brother."

A young man with long, white hair braided back nodded and walked towards the door. He opened it and three children immediately swept past his legs in a blur, sprinting towards the bed. Another taller child with short, sea blue hair walked behind, greeting Ymir politely at the door.

The three children huddled together, looking at their baby brother with a hint of awe in their eyes.

"I thought you said it was a boy, father!" blurted the shortest child. His hair was dark, a faint hint of blue on the edges only visible from the faint morning light.

"Why don't you check, Wulf?" Osmund grinned.

Wulf peeled back Arthur's blanket and promptly pushed it back over him.

"It's a boy!"

"It really was a baby brother then," the second child said bitterly, a girl with long, sea blue hair. "I was hoping for a baby sister! Papa, make a baby sister with Mama now!"

Osmund choked back a cough, sensing Frigga staring exhausted daggers at his neck as the others around him laughed. He patted the little girl's head with an awkward smile.

"Now, Lyanna, papa can't do that. The family's getting too big! Arthur is going to be the last one."

"Then you owe me, Papa!" Lyanna whined.

"How about this. I'll give you Lobera instead of a baby sister, is that okay with you?"

"YOU'RE GIVING HER LOBERA?!" cried the two boys indignantly as Lyanna nodded happily with bright eyes.

"Why are you giving her a sword when she uses spears?!" pressed the third boy, the tallest of the trio and with short, blonde hair.

"She can learn to use a sword like you then, Valerius. I'll teach you both together. It'll be easier!"

"Easier on you!"

"Okay then, make another bastard, old man!" Wulf ordered.

"WHAT? Where the hell did you learn that word?" Osmund fumed. In the corner by the door, Ymir, who had not participated in any of the laughter up to that point, was looking away and trembling with a grin on his face.

"AHA! So you can't! Now you owe ME something," Wulf ruled, crossing his arms with a huff.

"That's not how it works!"

"Oh it's because I'm a bastard now is it?"

"Wulf, you're not a bastard. I've already told you countless ti - you know what, fine! I'll give you all something."

The three children cheered as loudly as the crowd had.

"Being extorted by your own children? Fatherhood must be quite unpleasant," mused a man with long, white hair and venomous green eyes. He had been standing by the terrace, holding a staff with a glowing blue crystal at its head. His face was feminine and his voice was soft and honeyed, easily capable of being mistaken for a beautiful woman if it weren't for his skintight attire on his upper body, which showed all the features of an athletic man. "The Queen must be tired. Everyone, please bid your farewells."

They all congratulated Osmund and Frigga, laughing and patting their backs, leaving one by one. Lyanna, Valerius, and Wulf were the last to leave, trying to ask their father what they were receiving until Ymir shooed them away.

Finally, it was just Osmund, Frigga, the baby, and the strange man. The joyful, warm atmosphere was now gone, replaced by a cold silence as they stared at one another in tension. But such a frigid ambience was unnatural, too bitter to be simply because of the strange man.

"You can stop hiding yourself now, Agmund," the strange man said, looking toward the darkened corner of the room by the door.

Out stepped a towering man, becoming visible in the light as he had been completely invisible in the shadows. His hair was long and an impenetrable black, pierced by curved black horns on the sides of his head. His eyes were a spectral silver, their gaunt glow further making his sickly pale face wraith-like. He was hunched over, being too large for the room.

Agmund walked with long strides over to them, dragging behind a long, black cloak that waved like the surface of water with each movement. Most prominent of all was his aura, a constant eminence of pure dread that made even the hairs of valorous Osmund stand on end. The strange man looked uncomfortable standing next to him, subconsciously taking a step away from the deathly figure.

Agmund turned his head toward the man, speaking in a deep, hushed voice that still managed to resonate, "You've learned to sense my presence, Ancelot."

"Only an idiot would not be able to learn how to," said Ancelot, regaining his composure. "You hide yourself too often that it's easy to learn by now."

"It's rude to consider others fools despite your advantage in power, Mage...." Agmund cautioned.

"Apologies, my King. But I wish to speak about the current advantage in power our empire has in the Nine Worlds."

"What you wish to to discuss is war, Ancelot. Say it clearly." Osmund growled. He was standing at the foot of Frigga's bed, glowering at Ancelot.

Ancelot looked directly at Osmund's eyes, imperturbed by Osmund's posturing. "I understand you wish to savor your time with your wife and children in tranquility, High Prince. However peace will not last. Not with barbarians at the gates looking for an opportunity to assemble and attack."

"Your lobby can be discussed another time. You're right, I am tired." Frigga professed.

"What do you think, my King?" Ancelot looked at Agmund. But Agmund was not listening. He had been gazing at the baby in Frigga's arms, who looked back directly at him, eye to eye, both with intense interest. No hint of dread nor fear lay in that baby's golden eyes and Agmund looked back with confusion and curiosity.

"Agmund!" Frigga called. Agmund snapped out of his lull and realized Frigga had been calling his name several times. She held up the baby toward him, "Would you like to hold him?"

Agmund hesitated for a moment, looking down at the baby once more. Osmund moved in, carefully taking the baby from Frigga and cradling him in his arms. "At least not before me." He stepped toward Agmund, holding the baby to him. It reached out to him and Agmund hesitated before slowly taking the fearless baby in his sickle-like fingers.

The warmth that spread over Agmund was felt by those around him as if the baby's radiance melted the cold aura of the phantom. The sun now bathed the room in its embracing light, revealing the odd smile on Agmund's lips. Osmund and Frigga smiled radiantly at the pair.

However, it was not all smiles. Ancelot, unnoticed, took another step away from Agmund as if his current aura was more dreadful than his previous. His face was unreadable as he looked away from the sun, but his eyes hid a burning anger at the pleasant peace that had befallen the king and his empire; a spark that would fester and soon ignite tragedy.