#dark romance

[the-modern-typewriter]

Fantasy Arranged Marriage with a Enemy King

"We're not supposed to see each other before the wedding."

Cade didn't have to turn to know King Lucan had entered the room - he would have recognised the feel of his power anywhere. His breath fogged the window as the air edged immediately icy, blocking his view of the city gates.

"Prince Cadewynn," Lucan merely greeted. His voice was warm, honeyed velvet against the temperature drop. "You clean up well."

Cade's jaw clenched. "I'm sure that shocks you."

"Not at all," Lucan said.

Cade felt the king move closer and then he had to turn, because it wasn't in him to keep his back to the enemy. Even if that enemy was soon, disgustingly enough, to be his husband. The smallest hint of a smirk curled the corners of Lucan's cruel and handsome mouth. It made Cade want to bite him.

"This is bad luck," he said instead. "I think we have enough bad luck already being stuck with each other, without you adding to it, don't you?"

Lucan laughed softly. He stopped in front of Cade, looking up at him. He reached out and Cade recoiled back, before he could touch, hitting the cool stone behind him. Lucan raised an eyebrow.

"We're not married yet," Cade said, "so keep your cursed hands to yourself."

"Your tie is crooked. I can help."

"I thought I cleaned up well."

"It doesn't take much work to polish a gem, admittedly. You are inclined to shine."

"It also takes surprisingly little to rip a man's tongue and fingers off."

The words simply made Lucan laugh again; but then, Cade supposed, Lucan found most people laughable. The cold could kill a man so easily. His head tilted, his expression oh so indulgent as he considered the long line of tension Cade's body had suddenly become.

"So when we are married, I can touch you?" Lucan's voice was teasing. "Good to know."

Cade bristled.

"I suppose if you're feeling brave, I can't stop you."

"No," Lucan said. "You can't. Glad we agree."

Cade's eyes flashed, a snarl catching in his throat. His hands curled into fists. "You are not supposed to be here."

"My palace. I can be where I like."

"Tradition-"

"-Your tradition," Lucan said. "Are we calling it a tradition? I would consider it more of an adorable little backwater superstition, really. The idea that us seeing each other is enough to dictate our marriage is savage. Honestly."

Cade didn't think he'd ever wanted to hit anyone quite so badly in his life, and he'd decked his fair share of people. He placed his hands on the window sill behind him to ward off the temptation, nails digging in, drawing in a few steadying breaths.

He half expected Lucan to labour the point by reaching out again to fix his stupid, impractical tie, but the ice king merely softened his smirk to a sunny smile. Cade preferred the smirk, horrible and triumphant as it was. At least it was honest.

He said nothing. Maybe if he said nothing, King Lucan would simply get bored and leave. That could be a tolerable marriage; one spent in separate rooms, entirely bored with each other.

Lucan did not look bored. His gaze was far too appreciative, too propriety, as it assessed Cade's body like a battlefield map.

Despite the thick furs Cade had been given since arriving to Lucan's kingdom, he felt abruptly naked. He straightened his spine, glad for his solid foot of height advantage. Lucan didn't so much as blink at his looming. Bastard.

"No," Lucan mused, idle. "It doesn't shock me that my colours suit you. You are mine, after all. Or you will be soon enough. And I've got a proven track record of taking savage things and perfecting them, haven't I? You-"

Cade hit him.

Or, well, Cade went to hit him.

In an instant, Lucan's eyes turned an eerie blue, and ice ripped all of the way up from Cade's fingers to his shoulders, freezing him in place an inch from Lucan's nose. It was bitterly, painfully, cold. He could have launched another attack but common sense caught up with him a moment later - fear to douse the heat of his fury.

Lucan sighed. "Such a solider boy, aren't you? You just can't help it. It's weirdly hot." Lucan's gaze roamed over him again, as if those words in his mouth weren't just weird. "Maybe save the passion for the bedroom though."

"Go screw yourself on an icepick, you supercilious-"

"-I suppose I should tell your parents and your kingdom that the deal is off and the fight is on."

Cade stopped talking. He squeezed his eyes shut. Bile burned up his throat.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have tried to hit you."

That time, he felt Lucan's fingers - cold, so cold - brush his throat. Cade's eyes snapped open, heart hammering like a war drum as Lucan fixed his tie with a few neat gestures.

His arm was starting to go numb. He could imagine his fingers turning black, like he'd seen on some of the men, doomed to never ever be able to pick up a sword again. Maybe to not have a hand at all if the frostbite got bad enough.

"Lucan," he hissed. His stomach twisted.

Lucan chucked him amicably beneath the chin.

"Tell me to screw myself on you later," he said. "Tell me that's everything you want."

Cade's face burned, despite the fact that he could feel his teeth beginning to chatter.

"You don't want this fight either," he said. "If you did, you would never have agreed-"

"Cadewynn."

The honey was gone from Lucan's voice in an instant. All that was left was the cold; the monster that Cade had faced across countless fields already, as if it mattered how brilliant a warrior he was against something like him.

Cade dropped his glare.

"No," Lucan said.

Cade looked up, drawing in a shuddering breath. His free hand flexed. He felt the ice creep a little further over his skin, like a palm down his back. The parody of a lover's caress.

"You can go screw yourself on me later," Cade said, voice hoarse. "Wedding night and all."

He thought, for a moment, that Lucan would push more. He could, after all. Maybe he'd tell them that the marriage would stay, but actually he wanted the heir, not the spare. Cade couldn't allow that. How could he have been so stupid? He'd been trying to work on his temper, but Lucan was just so-

Lucan smiled again. The ice melted like spring. Cade yanked his hand back to his chest with a gasp, cradling it to the scant remainder of his body heat. He was distantly aware that he was shaking. Pathetic. Warriors didn't shake, not even in the face of monsters.

"You've gone and got the arm of your attire all wet," Lucan said. "I'll have someone come by and fix that so you don't embarrass yourself. More, I mean."

Despite himself, despite everything, Cade glared again. Unfortunately it only seemed to please the king.

Lucan dipped his head, oh so polite and oh so proper, and took Cade's hand in his to press a kiss to his knuckles.

Cade didn't flinch. He forced himself not to flinch.

"See you down there," Lucan said. "Don't be late."

[emilyscastlevania]

[dimitovva]

[storyofleftoverthoughts]

Today’s work fit feature bare face bc I was too hungover to do my makeup this morning 🥴

[lunalore13]

There's something about a feminine body carved in stone

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 18

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on @discoscoob 's concept & bot! An unlikely flirtation turns into a dark obsession... Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, eventual dubcon/nsfw/involuntary captivity. all chapters

Eighteen. 十八

Maybe because Donaka watches you streaming how-to videos over the limited access iPad he gives you, a yoga teacher starts coming every other day to the house for an hour session.  

You cannot help but think the gesture is self-serving, keeping you limber for his own gratification, but it gives you something to do while he’s gone. 

It also helps calm you, in the moments when you are sorely tempted to break every expensive antique ceramic he has in the house, starting with the extremely rare pale green Ru Ware vases.

He’s kept his word, not letting you outside the compound since your little escape attempt. On top of the cameras, you feel his security team watching you at all times when he’s out–from a distance, but it’s still unnerving. You’re doing your best to be the goodest of girls–but it’s driving you crazy inside.

You’ve tried to write, but the words do not come easily anymore. Partly because you know he would read them later, and partly?

You feel too overwhelmed to even begin to make sense of this in the shape of words. 

You read instead, spending a great deal of your time in the library. You sprawl in the comfy chairs, but your favored pose is laying on your belly with a book on the floor like you did when you were a child. Partly because it’s comfortable and partly, it gives you the ridiculous psychological illusion of hiding. You are laying like this behind the table when you hear the door open, and recognize just by the confident footfalls who has entered your little sanctum. 

You cannot keep your heart from pounding double-time–depending on his mood, it could be good to see him back from work this early, or very bad.  

“Are my chairs not satisfactory?” he asks, the corner of his mouth pulled just slightly. “Do you require a pillow fort?”

You roll onto your side to look up at him, shrugging. “You’re home early.” It wasn’t even lunchtime yet. 

“I thought you might like to try out my new toy with me.” 

Your initial reaction to this statement is dread. 

The look on your face must tickle his funny bone. He throws back his head and laughs like a real Bond villain. “Not that kind of toy, y/n. Get up.”

You push to your feet, gingerly closing the book you’d been reading. He tilts his head to peruse the cover. “Tai Chi Theory? Forgot I even had that one.”

“It’s kind of interesting,” you play off, reluctant to tip your hand. In fact, you find it very interesting, especially after watching that young man Tiger Chen. You wonder how long you’d have to study, before you could get to pushing hands, the martial side of Tai Chi. 

You feel the weight of his gaze on you, and as usual, suspect you’re not fooling him one bit. He looks you up and down; you’re still in yoga pants and a tank top. “Go put on one of your new dresses,” he tells you. “Casual is fine.” 

His idea of casual and yours differ by vast degrees. 

This is when it sinks in for you: he is taking you out of the house? He watches your face light up like a lightbulb, and his smile widens slightly. “Tik tok, bunny,” he tells you, glancing at the Rolex upon his wrist. 

With a final glance at him you set your book on the table for later, and rocket out of the room. 

A large section of Donaka’s closet has been filled with clothes–for you. Nothing you had any hand in picking out, of course, although you hate to admit…more of them hit the mark than don’t. In your rush you settle on a sleeveless floral Carolina Herrera shirt dress with an A line skirt, and semi-sensible platform wedge sandals by Dior. It’s something you would almost select on your own–minus the three grand price tag.

Jesus H Christ on a cracker. 

Nervous, because you have no idea what he has in mind, you find yourself fidgeting in the closet mirror with a deer-in-the-headlights look. This does not improve for you, when you see him filling the doorway, his arms up on the jambs.   

“I knew that would look nice on you.”

His approval should not make you feel all warm inside, but…oh. His dark eyes in the mirror could start a fire, and you take a shaking breath. 

“Is this ok?” you ask, turning, smoothing your skirt. 

“Perfect.” 

This is when you really notice that he is wearing a khaki colored suit, with a white oxford button down, and it’s such a change from his usual grays and blacks that it almost makes your head spin. It makes him seem…less sinister, somehow, and so dapper your chest aches. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, sidling closer. 

“Nowhere, if you keep looking at me like that,” he answers with a half smile and that smoldering look that makes you weak in the knees. 

The devil shouldn’t be allowed to wear white. It’s entirely too becoming. It makes you forget too much. 

Feeling bold, maybe even a little giddy with the thought of going out, you wrap your arms around his lean torso under his jacket, tilting your head towards his. When his lips touch yours gently it feels like spring rain, like parts of you that were near death inside perk up and sigh, and you know you shouldn’t let yourself feel this way…but it’s too late. Too late by half. 

“Come on, y/n,” he says, taking your hand and tugging you to follow him.

***

You do not really know what you’re looking at, at first, when he leads you out to the circle driveway.

It’s a sports car, of course, its perfect porcelain white paint gleaming like a pearl in the sun, with brushed aluminum trim and crimson accents in the wheels. You can see hints of red leather interior peeking through the tinted windows. 

“Well?” he asks impatiently when you are quiet for too long.

“It’s gorgeous,” you admit, meaning it too.

He grins down at you in a moment of what you believe is pure, unadulterated happiness. “That’s worth 2 million dollars, I suppose.”

You almost trip, and might have bit it if he wasn’t already holding on to you. “What?”

The ‘Just kidding’ does not come. He opens the passenger side door for you with a gallant little wave. “My lady.”

You, however, pause at the door. “Donaka, I’m afraid to even touch this thing.” He was ready to spank you over just tearing a button off a shirt.

He leans on the door, smirking down at you. “Baby, do you know what the mark of true, untouchable, fuck you wealth is?”

You blink in answer. “Umm…no?”

“It’s the fact that we could destroy this thing today, and I could buy another one tomorrow just like it. And there were only 58 ever made.”

You let out a slow breath. You know he is not actually so cavalier with his expensive possessions. And the thought of having that much money to burn…it’s just obscene. Like he can read the transcript of your hesitance, he urges you further.

“Come on, bunny. Let’s have some fun.”

You look at the luxurious blood red leather inside the car. “Should I take my shoes off?”

“Honey, you can put your feet on the dash if you want.” 

It feels like…he actually means it, and it’s hard to reconcile this carefree mood of his with the forbidding man you knew before. Maybe you’re the fool…but you want to believe this side of him is real. You want to believe…that you’re safe. You bite your lip, and he can see your trepidations evaporating with the rising sun. In the end, the chance to go outside the compound is too much temptation to resist. “Okay.”

“Mmm. That’s my girl.”

Hearing those words from his lips should not cross the wires in your brain the way they do. You settle down into the sculpted seat, and he closes the door gently after you. 

You notice something sitting in the floorboard at your feet. As he’s getting in you realize it's a handbag, white leather, red lining. It’s almost cute, that it matches his car. There’s a brightly printed silk scarf inside, as well as sunglasses, hand lotion, and organic lip balm. It’s funny that you didn’t even think to bring a bag, because you have no money or identification to put in it. He’s thought of everything, it seems. 

It’s all damn near sweet, is what it is, and as ever you feel the conflict of rabid want and utmost trepidation with this man. 

He starts the car, and the deep, primal rumble of the motor is like the warning grumble of a jungle cat, low and menacing. How fitting, for the man behind the wheel. 

“You’re going to want that for your hair,” he tells you, nodding at the scarf. 

“Oh?” 

He touches a button, and what you thought was a solid tinted black top slides back with seamless precision, folding somehow into the boot. 

“Holy shit.”

He laughs at your surprise, enjoying your mystification. “They told me this car can go from 0 to 100 kilometers in 2.7 seconds. Should we try it out?”

“Uh…that sounds terrifying,” you answer glibly, folding the scarf in half. Your insides lurch a little when you see Hermès printed in the corner. Then you have a heart-stopping inkling about the bag too. Gold hardware and a decorative lock, and in small gold script, there it is. $30,000 sitting at your feet, minimum. 

Don’t panic. Stay calm.

You can’t help but think that if you had that kind of money to throw around, you would give it to Mei for her sister, and not spend it on a Birkin, or a special edition supercar, or a designer dress that you were pretty sure you could find a lookalike of at Target.

He’s watching these thoughts play across your face with a small smile. You’re sure he knows the gist of them, if not the exact translation. You realize he was right, when he told you so unfalteringly that he knows you better than anyone. 

Fine, you think, trying to put some steel in your spine. Bitching about the price of these gifts to indulge your guilt will get you nothing in the end. You decide that you are going to enjoy your day, so that he enjoys his day, and then you are going to ask him again about Mei tomorrow. Honey over vinegar. 

Flow bitch flow.  

As if on cue, the wound on the inside of your thigh aches as you shift in your seat. It’s not infected, but it’s taking a long time to heal. He lets you wash it, but no ointment is allowed. He wants it to scar–and he’s going to get his wish, the manipulative bastard. 

You look around the interior of the car, admiring the undulating white leather dragon detail sewn into the upholstery between your seats. “This is way cooler than the Lamborghini,” you affirm, winning the smug pleasure you sought. 

“I thought it might appeal to you.”

“Um…what is it?” You don't recognize the stylized logo on the dash. 

He smirks at you, as though for some reason it pleases him that you don’t know. 

“This is a Bugatti Veyron, sweetheart.”

You think you’ve heard of that…in a Lana del Rey song.

Then, like he can’t help himself, he adds, “Year of the Dragon edition.” He lifts his eyebrows as he says this, and it hits you like a shovel–he’s being cute. He seems to get so much enjoyment out of giving you the specs–it’s ridiculously endearing, even if he is mansplaining.

“I see. Well…I shouldn’t like it, but I’m afraid I do,” you begrudgingly admit.

This admission makes him laugh out loud. “I don’t think you realize it yet, but you have expensive taste.” 

You shrug, even while it eats at you inside. “I think you mean I have good taste,” you counter, tracing his long fingers lightly where his hand rests on the console between you. He opens his paw in invitation, and you lace your fingers with his. As his grasp closes upon your smaller hand you can’t help but feel like you have sealed something between the two of you. His heavy gaze upon you only reinforces this impression. 

The corner of his mouth ticks up, as though he senses your trepidation deep down. He doesn’t taunt you though, simply stepping on the gas. The car roars, and you are racing off into the warm embrace of a beautiful South China day.

***

As you drive the winding roads of Hong Kong island, the lush landscape on either side and the glittering blue sea stretching off into the distance, you think you finally understand Donaka Mark’s predilection for high-performing sports cars. These roads are made for such machines, or vice versa, the low slung car hugging the curves with ease. Donaka is a good driver, despite the speed, and you strangely find yourself relaxing for the first time in you don’t know how long, enjoying the ride. This man doesn’t have a death wish. He’s not going to do anything stupid, so you sit back and revel in the breeze, riding the wind with your hand out the window like you used to when you were a child. 

Out the corner of your eye you realize he’s watching you with a small smile, and for once he doesn’t look sinister or conniving. He looks content, and you didn’t have to sacrifice any of your mental or physical wellbeing to get him there.

Miracles happen every day.  

He also looks unfairly handsome behind the wheel of this speed machine, and you can’t help but sigh to yourself. You suppose you could certainly be doing worse with your time. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, curious, but in no hurry. 

“On a little adventure. Have you seen the south end of Tai Tam Road yet?” 

You shake your head. Anytime you took the bus to the Central district from Shek O you just went north. “I haven’t seen any of that part of the island,” you admit. You’d wanted to check out the beaches, but just never got around to it. There was a lot in Hong Kong you had wanted to do, before the necessity arose to try to get the hell out of Dodge. 

“Then today’s your lucky day.” 

You think that might be true in more ways than one. At the juncture he turns left, heading south, and you are happily quiet as you take in the views of the lush mountains along the winding road. You roar over the narrow two lane of the dam of the reservoir, and you close your eyes for a moment, enjoying the cooler air. It’s all so stunning, and over-the-top as it is, this is a pretty epic way to take it all in. 

Donaka catches you smiling to yourself, and squeezes your hand in his. 

“Was it difficult, getting used to driving on the left?” you ask. 

“Who says I had to get used to it?” he counters with a little smile. 

“I guess I just assumed you’re American,” you admit, mostly from the way he talks. “You’re too evil to be Canadian.” 

This makes him laugh out loud, delighted. “You might be surprised, darling.” 

He gives you nothing, and you wonder if he encourages the mystery because he left a life behind as a wanted man, or simply because he enjoys the cloak and dagger of it. You realize that you’ve kind of invented this persona of wickedness for him from gut instinct and what little clues you’ve gathered, but you know nothing for certain. Donaka might be a perfectly upstanding businessman–as upstanding as any multi-millionaire ever can be. Mightn’t he???

You just can’t bring yourself to believe it.

“So…how did you come to live in China?”

He tilts his head, looking over at you with amusement. “Are we playing twenty-questions today?” 

“Just trying to get to know you better.” 

“Why?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s not like we’re living together now or anything…” It’s the most politic way you can think of, to describe kidnapping, forced cohabitation, and temporary insanity brought on by the most thrilling quasi-consentual sex of your life.

His lips twist as you think he’s trying to suppress a grin. Instead he presses a surprisingly tender kiss to your fingers, and drives in silence for at least a kilometer before answering, “I came to China a long time ago, to find my father.” 

Sensing the weight of this admission, you hesitate to go forward. But there is that burning curiosity in the back of your brain; you so badly want to know. “Did you find him?”  

“Eventually.” You wait for elaboration, but the silence stretches on. You realize this is not a happy subject for him, and you congratulate yourself on your talent for always pinpointing the exact wrong thing to say to ruin a beautiful day. This is why you prefer writing conversations down to having them in real time. You always, inevitably, unfailingly, fuck up. 

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, sinking into your seat, looking out over the stunning landscape rolling before you and feeling incredibly stupid. Once again, it seems, you’ve forgotten your place. Mistresses don’t ask these things, do they? You’re supposed to be pretty and fuckable and entertaining, and don’t forget your role on the odd days when it feels like you might mean more than that to him. 

“Don’t be,” he forgives you with a grace that absolutely surprises you. “I appreciate that you want to know me, y/n. But there are things you don’t want to know. Do you understand?”

“Yes and no,” you admit cautiously. “Are these things I don’t want to know, or things you don’t want me to know?” 

He smiles ruefully at that. “Both.”

Maybe you already knew that, deep down. You try to tell yourself that it doesn’t matter. That you’re not staying any longer than you have to, no matter what he says to scare you, or beguile you, and no matter how it seems that he’s being sweet because it has to be a manipulative lie. That someday you’re going to get your opportunity, and you’re going to bounce. And most important of all: you are not falling in love with this man. You’re telling yourself all of this…but the foremost part of your brain, whatever is responsible for what you are doing now, in this moment–isn’t paying one bit of attention. It likes this handsome monster of a man beside you, in his beautiful suit, with his wicked fast car. It likes where you are right now, and it’s telling your longterm survival instincts to fuck the fuck off. 

His thumb strokes yours gently on the center console between you, back and forth as he thinks. “I haven’t had an easy life, y/n,” he finally admits. “I learned early on that if you want anything worth having, you have to take it, because no one will hand it to you.” It’s possible that you hold your breath at hearing this, thinking about the way he up and took you. “Not that he meant to, but the one good thing my father taught me, was the lengths the rich will go to, to protect their wealth. I’ve made a career capitalizing on that, and it’s gone well for me.” 

You suppose you can’t argue with that. 

Vague as his admission was, it does explain certain things about Donaka Mark to you. It almost startles you, when he flashes that smile that is so much like a tiger showing its fangs. “And now I know you will pick apart every little syllable I’ve just said, trying to get the most information you can out of it.” 

It’s so spot on that you look away, embarrassed by how ridiculous you are, and how well he knows it too. But he squeezes your hand, calling your attention back to him. He doesn’t say anything more, but the warm way he looks at you…it should be illegal. You’re not sure you’ll ever be free, when he turns the full power of that smoldering gaze upon you. 

Inexplicably flushed, you look at the road ahead. There’s a straight away coming up, the azure sea beyond glittering like a blanket of brilliant cut diamonds. “I thought you said this car was fast?” you challenge, and even though you know he knows you’re changing the subject, he rises to your challenge with a smirk, and a roar of the engine as the Bugatti rockets forward down the highway. 

You laugh with unfettered joy as he passes a slower car, slicing back into your lane with a foot to spare in front of an oncoming truck, and you decide that maybe the both of you have gone a little mad amidst this thing that has grown between you, taken hold of your sanity like a strangler vine. 

all chapters.

____________________

*the car is a Bugatti Veyron, Wei Long Grand Sport 2012 Year of the Dragon edition. You can google it if you want more specs. I’m not big into cars or anything but I thought it was pretty frickin’ cool. 😂

The route they take on Hong Kong island: (I love maps I'm sorry 😆)

[devotedlypinkpeanut]

An Eternal Cycle: Fire, Blood and Venom — masterlist

SUMMARY: In a world where fate seems cruel, you are condemned to relive an existence marked by suffering and the repetition of tragic encounters with your lovers who, although loving you deeply, always abandon you in the end. This curse binds you to them through several reincarnations, where, in each life, they forget your past ties, just like you. However, despite this collective amnesia, an intense passion is born with each encounter. But this flame of love is doomed to failure. In each cycle, your love for them is forbidden, a transgression of an ancient order, and the punishment is inevitable: they kill you at the end of each life. This is the price you must pay for defying fate, for succumbing to a love deemed impious. In this endless cycle, you are caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions: the hope that you can change the course of things and the terror of knowing that there is no escape from this curse. Love, no matter how beautiful, is doomed to destroy you again and again, until any possible redemption, or liberation, seems like nothing more than a mirage.

PAIRING : non!idols enha hyung line x fem!reader

GENRE : Dark romance, obsession, drama, slow burn, psychological tension, historical romance, reincarnation, fantasy, reverse harem, 18+(MDNI).

A/N : I haven't started writing yet, so it will probably take a while before the story sees the light of day, especially with exams coming up 📚. However, I already have a clear vision of the main ideas and plots: intense themes like obsession, curse, and a love that is both passionate and destructive ❤️‍🔥🖤. The chapters will be long and detailed, to really dive into this dark and captivating universe ✨. I can't wait to share it with you!

[Part 0] — Curse

[Part 1] — The Good King

[Part 2] — The Bad Wolf

[Part 3] — Alone in the world

[Part 4] — The Wildling

[Part 5] — Bloodied

[Part 6] — Forgive us

[more to come??]

Visual Fragments : Heeseung — Jongseong — Jake — Sunghoon

Taglist : @strxwbloody

[emilyscastlevania]

Winona Ryder on the set of Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

[xavisylu]

— Enemies-to-lovers trope; dark romance moodboard ᯓ★

(My MC with Sylus; other photos aren’t mine, found on pinterest)

[cutieeva]

Smile

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫

Female Reader

Warnings : Murders. Violence. Kidnapping. Confinement. Dubious consent. Sexual assault.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

❛ 人食い ❜

It was not (Y/N)'s intention to ensnare the gaze of a demon when she ventured into the hallowed temple however the only person she can blame is herself along her salvation.

"Useless". Her (E/C) eyes watching the fire burn her parent's body seem useless. After all it's a waste of fire if it's used to burn worthless humans. Those humans should rot to stink and even undeserving to be eaten by insects and animals. It deserve to rot only.

A yawn slip her lips that caught the attention of her male bulter Ryujin. He, stand beside her glare displeasingly of her lack of respect and boredom yet could one blame her if it's a waste of time ? Those parents' of her were bound to die sooner or later and to god's gracefulness they died little early. Unexpected too if she add, both perish in slumber together, sleeping beside one another. What a painless death even (Y/N) envy's because it's known to none how her death will be of.

Painful ? Plainless alike her parents ? Or perhaps a murder ? Now, that's an uninteresting way to die because she will not consent to die and if someone does tries, she prays to god her future killer must live in misery their entire life, filled with diseases and sadness yet beg to die or even better by suicide which will show how much was her killer tormented, then that's an happy ending.

Oh, god forbid her to dream of such filthy futures. Now she is alive and young at her prime and free of her parent's strict grip with endless of their wealth. Now, that what she loves about her parents save for their powerful surname beside her name.

"Bless their heart for leaving such wealth". She pray to heaven if it's exist and wipe the tear from her yawn to leave, following her butler and few personal maids. "The will is in my name, is it not ?" After all she is the sole heir and indeed the butler nod. An smile almost bloom that she manage to refrain and pursed her lips to think.

"What should I do ? What should I do ?" It is dawn at this moment how she recalls clearly her lines of tutors strangle her by the meaningless books of education and advise of how to be a good bride, following the usual routine of eating in silence, dressing, learning painting, sleep and the next day like an wooden clock the circle continuous each day. Never in her life from the childhood was she grant with such free time thus having it is, seem unnatural, discomfort within her skin.

Only with the free time, not with the lack of her parent's presence because she could be in luck if she was even granted the glimpse of their faces from their busy live. A wife too busy to serve her husband who, he had busy in counting the papers of yen despite drowning in it.

Funny how they never cared what should had been important, she. (Y/N), their flesh and blood who could have at least cried if not aside from pity she felt for her parents, unfortunately. Nevertheless she spring to the front door. "Let me enjoy the markets of street to my heart's content". Announcing her decision she walk tailing her maids and butler who quite worked like a male nanny to her too. Seeing her from a little baby to this young beautiful woman his heart grew fond of the lonely child unaware she never felt lonely only annoyance.

The market are lit with lights in jolly and the people mingle like bees attracted to shops like flowers for honey. All talking to one another, enjoying themselves and buying things and the shop owners giggling at the yens in their hands.

However all grasp in awe and stare, halting their actions just to see a young lady behind her train of attendant maidens struggled beneath the weight of numerous portmanteaus, boxes, and resplendent trinkets, bespeaking an unparalleled affluence and her in aglow of gold and that lady is (Y/N), smiling in arrogance at the green envy from women and lust from men dripping. How animalistic she laughs, the people can not even hold their facades correct.

No wonder they are beneath her and she above. From today will she be the queen of her own life and none would point finger at her, how could they if they won't even have fingers to point as she will cut it.

Walking to the next store, the owner salivating at her wealth and she smiles.

☯

"Boring". The word made the jewelry owner gulp and sweat hard. "Boring". (Y/N) repeated, touching the edges of the same old glossy gold. "Boring". Rolling her eyes finally her feet walk away, tuning out the female owner's pleads, and boring choices of words.

The radiant sun cast its golden light upon her, illuminating her refined features as she walk from the roof, behind her, the maidens holding few bags of shops and Ryujin hold a parasol above her. "Does after one week, the shops of these streets lose out to sell ?" She question, looking at the mid-aged man.

"Usually not, Miss". He answered and she sigh.

"Pitiful". Only sixty shopping was made today. Not more, a yawn slip her lips, drowning in boring the area she lives in. Covering her yawning mouth by her hand.

"Miss, could you please spare few money ?" Whisper voice of a boy caught her to look down, his foul face with dust and ink along the teared and clearly man's cloth on his tiny body would have melt an heart and pity one's eyes however (Y/N) only stare then at the distorted metal bowl fill with some coins and she look at him again, directed her words to her servant.

"Fifty boxes of food from the restaurant". At once a pair of maiden obeyed her order, within small span of time they hold boxes of food. "Here, your food". In those tiny hands, her servants gave all the food and some put on the dusty ground. "Eat it".

The boy who's eyes watered and lips smile like lit candle in a birthday, staring at so many food while (Y/N) tilt her head, observing. How honest he is. "Thank you". In pure gratitude he said, bowing to the ground and he flinch at her loud laughter.

She scoff then, bend a little, her clear (E/C) eyes stare not at him as if at his soul directly and said. "Thank you ? What do you think I am ? A saint ? Of course not. I do not gave you the loads of food out of the pure heart of kindness. No ! Never". She laughs louder like it's idiotic. "You foolish, foolish boy, it's a debt. I want to see if I gave you this food and you survive then I want you to remember each waking time that the reason of your existence is because of only me. And the debt shall be collected in the future". Harshly she said and the butler did not flinch, the boy did. "Nothing more and nothing less". Her words came to end and she stood straight gracefully, walking glancing back not once.

"What shall I do now, Uncle Ryujin, advise me by your wise vision". The said man sigh.

"Honest or lie". She smiles.

"Lie please. Honests are boring, lies are interesting to unfold". The man cleared his throat.

"Then I recommend some more shopping to other areas—".

"Thus, in honesty you desire me to no more torment my maiden servants feet by roaming the ground and pour money mindlessly ?" She cut him off, wanting to be proven right of her envision.

"True". (Y/N) chuckle. It was easy. That's when her sight caught at an interesting manor. Not big enough to be someone's home nor small enough to be a expensive shop.

"An what ?" She point her finger to the manor and Ryujin glance at it.

"An temple, Miss". He answer.

"An temple ?" He nod at her scepticism and she chuckles. "What temple is it ? Buddhist ? Or ?" The man shake his head to confuse her further.

"The temple is called Eternal Paradise Faith". She moves her hand to continue his explanation of something unheard of. "It's a place where the leader listens to all his followers' troubles and gives them advices from the god's words he hears and a chance to visit the paradise once they die". A mocking smile spread across her lips.

"What an pitiful place. I wonder". She could not even laugh at the thought of such place gathering outside the manor just to see a human as their leader and find peace within the man ? Are they not afraid to be used, fed lies and all ? Is it not like offering one's life to another's hand ? And she can not at all imagine someone offering the control of their lives. It sounds unreal and foolish.

"We should go inside". Ryujin surprise her, a man not tied by any reglious is encouraging peak her curiosity yet she does not desire.

"No". She declines. The suffocating thought of reglious people surround her with good and God seem like an illusion. Good and kind people exist in few numbers thus people pure helping others in name of reglious appear even rare, it's simply impossible.

"However Miss, I reccomend it. For the own good for my old mind peace sake ?" The old man never tour inside the temple as he was so busy at his late master's orders however he wishes to now.

"No". Plainly she decline because what his wish has to do with her. "You may go by yourself". She gave the permission with no reluctant, ignoring the curiosity to at least peek how the temple works. Something belongs to no god.

She turn her heels and about to walk away however merely imagining her boring day of returned to home only to sit in silence at the huge mansion by herself seem very distasteful thus she turn around and "Let us grace your leader with my presence". The aged man's surprise melt to happiness and her gaze hardened, verging on disgust, as she observed the undue influence this temple leader wielded over her normally steadfast butler.

It was few feet walks and they cut the line thus after the person inside would come outside will be their turn. (Y/N) roll her eyes at the silent glares of pleasants. Bad for them, if she has wealth how could she not take advantage of it.

Suddenly a young man with rimmed teary eyes come out and Ryujin nod at his master indicating it's their turn indeed. They were about to enter when she raise her hand in front of Ryujin. "You, will stay outside". The man furrow.

"Why, miss ?"

"Servants do not ask questions to their master's order". And the man silence his thoughts yet the betray of emotions were convey from his eyes. Foolish man, (Y/N) thought, she smile enjoying his discomfort because if she indulge in letting him get more closer to the leader he did not even met before, perhaps the leader will own the power of her butler, not (Y/N).

"You three, come with me". The maidens quietly followed their mistress and she went inside, observing inch of the wealth spent on this temple and finally her sight met rather an unseen pair of iridescent eyes, the owner is sitting on his throne as the leader of the temple she assumes.

With fluid elegance, she knelt to sit alongside her maidens who bowed to him in respect, she care not enough to show and the leader smile upon noticing.

"He is unexpectedly young and handsome". Bit odd to her as leaders usually must been aged or at least appear to be.

"Thus, please express your sorrows for me to help". His smile tender and her eyes soften before her lips quiver.

"My parents vanished from this mortal realm, leaving me, a tender orphan, to navigate the cruel world alone, burdened with their vast fortune. Without a husband's protective guidance, I find myself beset by insolent servants, who dare question my authority. Yet, the true anguish lies not in their impertinence, but in the desolate solitude of my manor, where only my shadow provides constant companionship." Her gaze cast down, voice barely above whisper. "Thus, revered leader, I implore you, guide me toward the haven I so desperately seek, my paradise." She finished sniffing and the maidens' countenances, normally schooled in discretion, betrayed telltale signs of astonishment.

Dōma, the leader notice the difference of expression and smile. "Fear not, for the heavens above—". His act of assure was cut by her loud laughter behind her hand. Growing louder and unladylike. His smile crease a little.

(Y/N) withdrew her hand, and a radiant smile, one that illuminated the very sanctum of his temple, unfolded upon her face—the brightest, most resplendent he had ever beheld within these hallowed walls.

"Are you indeed a divine emissary? Did the heavens not resound you with the Lord's words, 'Foolish mortal! She who sheds tears is the most fortunate and affluent of all'? And still, you dared to dupe me with deceitful words. You false man" She laughed some more and Dōma, who could not help yet smile wider in interest after finding the only woman to see though his lies.

"Why ? Do you not believe in heaven and hell ?" An amusing question he ask and he truly hoped she won't bore him with the same old answer.

"They do—". He sigh. "—in us. Within us and our mind. If believing in something gives us the power to live then why not ? Heaven and hell do exist" He raise his eyebrows, quite not understood her twisted speech.

"Pray tell, what do you imply ?" An eager lace his voice. She tried not to find it distaste.

"I am saying. I do not believe such things I have not seen them yet if people suggest they exist then why not. They exist in us". Simple truth for him yet bitter truth of the human. First time one acknowledge such universal honesty he thought in his decades remain elusive in his lifetime. Good grace, he lived on as a demon, granting him the privilege to see this entertaining lady.

"Moreover, your eyes—". His ears perk at the mention of his treasurous features. "—it's disgusting to see, when the pity is plainly in sight". She rose from her seat, her words tinged with disdain. "Amend your appearance, if you truly wish to fool people". He let out a cherry chuckle.

"Why did you seek me out, knowing full well my deceitful nature ?" So entertaining. He finds difficult to let her slip, her distaste, arrogance, act, all compailing to him. So many amusing changing expression with honest mind. Delicious to taste. His gaze roamed freely over her form, assessing the vitality she possessed.

She observed the action and, curtailing her response, replied "Well, one is aware that a circus features a clown, yet patrons still flock to witness the spectacle. why ? Because it's entertaining watching the clown made a fool of himself". Her accusenery speech did not went past him and his laughter grew errier louder.

"I am a clown in your eyes ?" the word seem distasteful to him for some reason yet his smile remain.

"Well, in one's speech could be distorted in other's view thus, decide yourself". Again, that twisted ridicule of words now becoming irritated. Dōma does not really enjoy becoming the laughter, he likes to laugh not be laughed. A subtle difference.

(Y/N) satisfied with her conversation, walk towards the exit with her maidens.

THUD ! she flinch and look behind and her lips part.

In sight is the wall bore the ghastly image of a maiden's corpse, her once-pure form now a gruesome canvas of blood and suffering, the splatter patterns echoing the grotesque, inky trails of alike a insect's violent demise. And the other maiden, her lips parted to shriek for rescue, was mercilessly struck against the wall, her slender body shattered by the impact, her final breath escaping in a faint whisper.

All by the false man (Y/N) claim. It seems she misjudged that he is not only a false messager of god however also not a human. Her body stay at her roots, watching Dōma's bloodied body knelt near the limp bodies and slowly like an creature his sharp nails snap the head away which she flinch harshly and close her eyes only hearing the crunching, licking noise of eating human flesh.

Silent tears fell down and breath halt alltogether and his eating felt centuries to her when his footsteps come near her, the stink of blood overwhelm her as for the first time she ever smell it. She could feel his body close to her yet not touching and the shadow cast upon her.

"Open your eyes". Tender his voice was and she obey, his smile menacingly wide smeared in the hue of fresh blood and his pair of Iridescent are devoid of any emotion. His beauty unsettling and uncanny.

Tears slide down and for some reason he came closer to lick it. The greasy tongue brush her cheek send shivers her spine and Dōma savour the taste. "Hmm ? Why does tears taste salty ?" Alike a innocent child his nose scrunch and (Y/N) could hardly slip her facade underneath pure disgust.

Dōma chort at the woman's still fiery nature and a overwhelming twist to play game controlled him. "Shall we play a game ?" Because he does not want to kill the toy he got. He tilt his head to closer to her ear and whisper.

"Run and I will see you tonight". As if free of trance she ran outside where her alive butler and maidens standing.

"Let's go". She commanded, not wasting a time to walk fast confusing her servants.

"Why so sudden ? And where are the three maidens ?" (Y/N) close her eyes to erase their death from her memory and a trinkle of guilt chew her inside.

"They decided to dedicate their lives to the leader". Lying is easier than face the truth she caused herself to spiral however she can't change the past thus all she can do is survive against that man-eater.

Upon the first step inside her mansion. She issued a sudden decree "Gather all essential belongings forthwith! We depart immediately to our secondary residence in the countryside". Her voice echoed through the halls as she exclaimed, "Do you comprehend my instructions ?" In perfect synchrony, her servants responded with a unified affirmation, their voices rising in obedient harmony before retrieving to the order.

Ryujin, who stay beside her further confuse at her sudden change of behavior. "Mistress, what change your—". His pause of words came when his eyes met her fearful ones. As said before he watched her grow to a adult and when he swears few of the emotions she ever shown was fear then something extreme occur to that temple. Something that plant fear in her. "I shall also join to hurry". He said, walk away and (Y/N) curl her fingers, determine to live until she dies of natural causes never murder that she did not consent. At least not so young.

☯

(Y/N) watch her mansion, the home she grew up turn smaller and smaller the far her carriage drive away and she drawn the curtains, digging crescent dents on her skin. A mistake she made and the price was to cowardly run away. She shouldn't have step a foot at all, however too late and now, she is the prey of a monster heard in tales to scare children.

"Is there no way to kill the man ?" As in every tale of monster has a weakness, he must have too. Does piercing in his heart kills him ? Or his brain ? She inhale deeply, unsure to solve a puzzle no one taught her to and Ryujin watch it all, choose silence.

☯

Once night prevail the sky. Her butler advise to not further travel in case a accident occur and they are much far from the town they lived and (Y/N) agreed, unsure whether it was the right choice, well she will soon come to know because after resting at a inn, changing dress and sleeping in different rooms.

(Y/N) toss and turn at the vomiting images that seem to not leave her mind at all. Sweat glisten at the moonlight peeking through the curtains when shuffling and slicking noise pass her ears.

In fear her body froze and her eyes close however the noise only grew and grew until.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Mocking knocks quiver her body before the door slide open, that stink of death whiff her nose and few drips on ground startle behind her. The gap of weight got closer and closer until she felt a shadow tower over her head, wet drops fall on her skin yet she remained at the pretense of her sleep.

"Wake up, I can hear your heartbeat faster". In his childish giggle she dare open her eyes, directly meeting death. That monster tower her and few inches away from her face, nose touching and the wet drips are the fresh blood from his mouth. Her heart almost stop. "Aww, looking so cute". His cooing voice provide her no comfort as he laughed more.

She stare at him only and he waits for her beg, cry or pled.

She doesn't. If she is bound to die, she will with dignity.

He likes it thus he remove the blanket from her body and slide beside her, each muscle tense in (Y/N)'s body and his corpse numbness embrace her like a pair of couple sharing one bed.

"You are warm" He savor the feeling and inhale her smell of living flesh. She stopped trembling and he likes that— likes ? Likes ? What does it mean like ? Does he not like killing all ? So why does this passionate him ?

What does it mean he likes it ? Likes what ? And what is like ? To like and be liked ?

Confusion like group of ants crawl in his brain, for the first time he feels like. Not think like or create like. He feels the like of her body in his. Blending into one another.

Dōma buried his face in her side of neck and she close her eyes in disgust. He inhale deeply. He likes it. He likes it. He enjoys it. 

His first feeling.

His first emotion ! Dōma's grin spread ear to ear and turn her around and cage her in his hands, looking from above. She is forced to watch his animalistic smile and— pleasure ?

Was not before he devoid of emotions ? Like a doll mimicking human expressions ? Wait a moment, does he unable to—

"You are feeling pleasure from all this ?" Her distasteful clear and he laughs.

"Yes ! Very much. Very, very much". Giggling sound alike screeching noise he stare at her.

"You are inhumane. You are a mistake of nature". Spiteful she said, closing her eyes to appear to die yet her mind is racing with the possibilities of how to survive.

"I am not ! I am what I desired". The smile uneven and eyes fill with bloodlust she did not care open thinking back to their first encounter.

"Would you kill me ?"

"Yes".

"Why ?"

"Because eating you will offer me have emotions". She snap her eyes open, emotions, emotions ! Right, what lack in him was feelings, emotions.

"What made you think I can give you that ?" Dōma tilts his head, watching her unchanged face, more like her lips shaping words.

"I like it when touching you". She inhale at that, almost impulse to push him and ran away however she can not, not far away from the speed she witness yesterday morning.

"Then you do not have to kill me. I can give you that by living more easily". It perk his attention. She can give him emotions ? A being weaker than nature itself is suggesting to give him something nature could not ? What a pitiful sight.

"Believe me. I can". Dōma nod.

"Give me one now". (Y/N) stare into those blank iridescent eyes and lean upward to plant a kiss on his smeared blood lips where he narrowed his eyes in doubt before her tongue part his lips to invade and passionately kiss him, tingle the metallic taste.

Dōma who never had kissed an woman, only ate them for the first time feel pleasure. The sweetness of her tongue circling around his flesh and her hands hold his face so tenderly. It made him feel unutterable emotions.

Giggy slit his stomach and in hunger for more he grasped her fragile form, pulling her closer, their chests entwined, skin grazing skin, as Dōma savored the intoxicating kiss. His mind mushing and ears ringing. Did humans touch one another to feel this ? Is this what they call love ?

The rushing blood of vein, ears ringing and intoxicating mind ? If this is love then he would gladly keep her alive.

(Y/N) in need of air, pushing his unmovable chest and muffled grasp tries to earn his attention which she did finally. "Oh ! Oh ! I forget humans needs to breath". Snickering he about to kiss, she turn her head away.

"I can't give you all at once. However at promise I did give you a feeling did I not ?" He nod his head and (Y/N) bite inside her flesh, relive how she succeed in her gamble. The reason she thought kissing him would make him keep her alive because at his own words.

"I like it when touching you".

It's lust. Simple and plain. A lust from a man for woman's body he finds desirable and he felt just that.

"I will keep you alive then". Dōma smiles wide and (Y/N) slide tears.

☯

She sat alone in the corner of the vast, echoing chamber that Dōma had claimed as their home. Her body lean on the wall, her eyes draft to the inn room they crossed to leave and it took some time for her to discover the shade of the walls were grey not ruby along the bodies of innocent servants among them must be her butler too, the only person she knew. Dōma snatch that away. From her wealth, her life, her butler and the control she had.

The thud of door slamming rip her from the thoughts and his suffocating embrace from the side, his body caging her lungs to breath. Smiling ear to ear like a lover to his love. "Ah, the blissful ignorance of those insignificant mortals, basking in the fleeting solace of pleasure." For someone who does not feel emotions, he have strong opinions on humans and nature.

He indulge in her soft sheltered body with his huge one and spend the time using her like a rag doll than an human.

☯

Each day was the same. Dōma return from his either temple or a place he calls sacred and bask at her presence to his heart's content.

He learnt new emotions. Solace. Pleasure. Warmth.

However she languished in the corner of his chamber, her body a lifeless, listless shell, he began to feel an growing sense of ennui. Her once-enthralling submissiveness had devolved into a dull, soulless existence. She rarely even requested sustenance as if her soul died in that room with those worthless humans.

Dōma's fascination waned, replaced by an urge to discard her, to snuff out the faint flicker of life remaining. Yet, he hesitated, stayed by the doubt : would he ever find another plaything as exquisite, as perfectly broken ?

"Great leader, I beg of you, guide me on the path to paradise, for the sake of my beloved wife's eternal happiness." The human man's who voice he tune out, look to find him tearing as his words dissolving into sorrowful wails. Beside him, his wife sit still, her gentle hand reaching out to pat his shoulder, offering what comfort she could in her final moments.

"She is dying ?" The couple wince and the man nod as if wanting to do the complete opposite : deny. Oh, (Y/N) will also die of aging, if not young by sorrows. He must do something to retrieve the witty self before she dies for him eat her.

While (Y/N) is confined on someone else's power, watch the sun glide to the sky, roaring it's highest power of untouchable from the little crack she discover one day as strangely he never let her out in sun. Suddenly the door opened and she close her eyes to not see the monstrous entity close the distance and hold her tightly. Taking her to his lap and place her chin on his shoulder.

"What do you like the most ?" She open her eyes and turn her head unaware how near their faces was. His eyes study her.

"Flowers". She said. "Jewels, wealth—". Avert her gaze. "—and control".

"So shiny things ?" She furrow, wondering how he come to that conclusion when the differences were stark from one another then again, she glance at him through her lashes, he is unable to understand simple things.

"Yes". Look away to forget the past and believe an illusion she is alive and that's enough for her greedy heart. Uncaring to the man-eater smile, grasping her tighter.

☯

"You are letting me out ?" None to her for how long was she trapped and suddenly when he urge her to be outside at night did her heart got frighten. Was he wants to kill her ? Or trade her to other monsters like him ?

"Yes". Biting back the blooming smile on his lip, he grip her wrist. "A gift for you". Sliding into the bodies of other, they walk where he was leading her when her eyes caught the sight of Ryujin. Alive Ryujin and without a second thought, she bite his hand and run to the opposite direction of her butler's. Her only family.

Closer and closer. Her heart racing, eyes sparkling and smile breaking her facade. Never did one day she thought one person would give her taste of happiness and just as her fingers were about to graze his skin, a sudden yelp escaped her lips. A swift grasp dragged her back, plunging her into the chilling familiarity of his cold embrace. Dōma caught her.

She look back to find Ryujin who she mistook as an other aged man who's expression look nothing alike making her heart drop and face shatter in realization of what a fool she is spiraling into. Was the loneliness snatching her sanity ?

Her heart pounding and mind reeling.

"Smile". The whispered word caressed her ear, prompting her to lift her gaze. The sight that met her eyes would forever be etched in her memory. His usual blank iridescent eyes now shone with a fiery intensity, like stars ignited within their depths. His pale skin was set aflame with a gentle blush, imbuing his features with a tender vulnerability. Her breath halted. He looks like a man in love.

"Smile". He pleads. She notice. "Smile like that again". His voice weaker. "Smile". His finger touch the corner of her lips and tries to stretch that smile that lit his world by pounding his heart. The pure happiness of a emotion he saw craft heat under his skin that he is unable to understand. She looked the most beautiful creature chasing her loved things he ever laid eyes on he believes. He wishes to see her smile.

(Y/N) however does not share the same sentimental and wishes to scream, attracting heads and escape from the man's grip. Yes, she does not care if the humans died in process.

As if read her mind, he mutter. "Do you wish to kill them all ?"

"Would you do it ?"

"Yes". He breath.

"Why ? because you are hungry ?"

"No". He answer, his eyes never wavering. "For you I will do it". And the way he said those craft a feeling in her he would.

"Do not". She does not desire to carry more guilt in her than she has and she turn away to walk when a candle had fallen onto Dōma's arm, its flame burning his skin turning the pale skin to eerie black. Yet, to her astonishment, the wound began to regenerate, healing before her very eyes. He is immortal ? She look away and walk fast. Heart pounding refusing to believe she has to spent her entire life with a monster until her last breath. Controlled, suffocated.

☯

Jewels.

A sea of glittering jewels stretched before her, an dazzling tapestry of gold, diamonds, and emeralds. The room was awash in unimaginable wealth, every inch of floor hidden beneath the staggering array and she felt nothing aside from agitation.

"A gift". Dōma's voice from behind ring her head. Her body sore from the same sitting on his lap and her eyes roll back. "Smile".

"My life has been a tapestry of abundance, every desire fulfilled. There is nothing you can offer me to make me happy". Honestly she said. "Even not jewels". Dōma's smile crease and he hug her stomach tighter to melt within. Oh, how he wish for them to mold together. Always together however that smile is something he can never erase. The shimmer and the breath of laugh took his breath away.

☯

Solid gold bars. Pure gold layed on the ground along dresses she is yet to see. All in line like an real royalty. (Y/N)'s mind ponder how much wealth this monster owns or steal them ?

"A gift to be happy ?" His almost childlike question infuriates him. Disgusting man, how dare he question when he stole her life, ate her people, kept her alive for pleasure and doing at his whim to earn an emotion from her. He had no right to.

"As I have said before. No amount of wealth will have me happy when I had seen all. There is nothing I lack for you you to offer me". Dōma shake his head, the smile wider.

"There must be". She look at him.

"Could you afford to give me ?" He nod hastily.

"Yes, anything". (Y/N) tilts her head, snarling.

"Freedom. Let me go". The demon sank her want in his mind and almost his own head shake his head.

And words flee. "No". He could not do that. He can give anything she desires apart from freeing her life. He owns her life and is being too generous for his own good. He march to her and hold her shoulder in dreadful tight. "You are mine thus you won't be free from me". Each word he clearly utters like imprinting on her skin.

"Yes". Glaring she said. "Then offer me your weakness". Dōma halted, never in imagine did such question invade his mind. She draw closer, closer until their chest touching and hand on his shoulders.

"If you do—". Those (E/C) eyes bore into his. "—then I will laugh". Finished she plead. "Smile as you wish". Dōma's heart that hold no life pound at the image of her beauty.

And confess. "Sunlight. My weakness lies in sunlight". Like a foolish man he said out loud, as men in love are, foolish.

The corner of her lips lift in blooming smile and her eyes twinkle like diamonds against the dark glow, exuding vitality and joy. The breathtaking sight stole his breath, captivating him anew.

And the next moment was him pressed their lips together and hands roam on her body with want. (Y/N) breath cautiously, unable to rip her breath away from him and her stomach turn churn, because she truly do not wish to give him her first, her body. She despite being controlled yet here she is pushed to the door and kissed and touched in her entire body, her tears swell in sorrow.

Finally she turn her head away, to breath air in her lungs and Dōma's thirsty lips ravished her skin, tracing a fiery path from cheek to chin, neck, and collarbone. His hand grasp her breast, fondling it as he please and she wince.

Sweet, all she taste is the sweetest he was ever have privilege to, no flesh could be compared to the pleasure and taste she is bestowning him and the hunger is tearing him apart, wanting more and more. His another hand circle her waist, pulling her inexorably closer, primary urge to claim her his and his finger shifted her kimono off her shoulder, exposing tender skin, with a deep, shaking breath, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, his lips searing her skin in a passionate, all-consuming kiss deeply shaking her from her core.

While the sun outside, oblivious to the passionate affair raising little by little that her sight took note of and she clasp her hand on his shoulder, pushing his face into her skin and tried to engulf his entirety. Dōma returns the passion. Wanting to be one with the woman he loves and have her his, for eternal. He decided at the moment she smiled for him. She sealed her life. The golden rays of sun spread far and wide and (Y/N) let his hands rip her kimono, falling with silence on the floor and she stood nude and empty before his eyes that stare at her like staring for the first time, as if falling in love and embedded in his core mmeory.

She inhale breath, for a moment even catch a glimpse of his hand painted in fresh blood following the stench of death however when she blink, the pale hands with neat sharp nails return and his face, curved smile out of happiness, wide and delirious.

Perhaps he went mad, hugging her, feeling her nude to his cloth body and savoring the warmth of her lush skin belong only to him. "I love you". He confess and she met his heated gaze, avert before the grim surface and pull his face to kiss him by her hands on his shoulder and roll their bodies to push him on the door, this time.

The sun has lit the world up to greet morning to earthly creatures and (Y/N) lift her toes and cover his eyes, tilt her head to deepen the kiss and other hand slip past his body and open the door wide to push him with her entire strength she had outside, under the scoring sun.

Dōma, who was astonished, used his speed to escape came too late, the ray has touched his rotton skin, free of shield. It's too late. His countenance twisted in a rictus of pain and stare at the woman he loves betray him, for her freedom.

"This is my gift for you". Her weak legs sink down, watching his demise alike her own people. "Called pain". She utter above a whisper and tears roll down, utter lose and shallow her heart feel, she has no one spared in the world to call her own anyone.

Then her eyes in daze stare at those golds "Well, I can take these and my wealth back". Covering her nude by her cloth, she look away after he turned into nothing and stood to leave.

Language of love she heard the term. Very endearing to hear and yes, his love was nothing less than an unsettling intensity, a suffocating desire to possess. She still however assume he bears the gift offering one.

"Perhaps I bear too". As she did bestowed him her last gift, a emotion called pain wrapped in his death and betray by the one he desired the most.

FIN 

𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐨𝐟 ◜◺ 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 ◞◿

[traumszenario]

[darktraumabomba2]

The light in the dark.

[manincaffeine]

Actually sleeping with someone is so nice like waking up in the middle of the night and snuggling closer or lazily giving them a kiss or just feeling their arms around you squeeze slightly even though they're in a deep sleep or handholding while you both are asleep.

[twistedlilangel]

[contessalarue]