#it was as if death had touched it but hadn't claimed it fully

[fantasybabygirlslutsworld]

The Realm's Light - 3

Part one

Part two

Safe to say, the celebration of Princess

Mariana's birth would be far grander than her own parents's wedding. King Jaehaerys I of his name had announced that a grand feast with hunting and tourneys would commence for a month inviting all the lords and ladies of the seven kingdoms and free cities to honor the birth of his great granddaughter.

While preparing for the grand feast for their immediate family, Queen Alysanne had questioned her eldest son about the whereabouts of her other grandson.

" Baelon, where is Daemon? It's been more than 6 hours after the babe was born but he hadn't come to see his niece till now." Prince Viserys had already sent a guard to inform his brother about Princess Aemma's labour.

" You know about Daemon, mother. When informed about Aemma's labour, he immediately flew on Caraxes to Dragonstone to fetch a dragon egg for his little niece or nephew ." Crown Prince Baelon replied to his mother." We should soon find a match for that boy so that he can embrace his responsibilities." Queen Alysaane gruffly said.

"Mother, did you invite Vaegon and Maegelle to the feast." Prince Baelon asked his mother. Ever since Vaegon Targaryen became an archmaester in Citadel and Maegelle as a Septa to the faithful seven,their visits to king's landing had been limited.

" Vaegon informed that he will not be able to attend today's gathering but he will come during the tourney next month to see his grandniece and sweet Maegelle had gone to a village near the riverlands to se fellow followers." Queen Alysanne said to her son .

After the death of her two daughters, Princesses Alyssa and Viserra, Septa Maegelle had became the only comfort for the old queen. "I hope that the birth of the little Princess may unite our family,Baelon." The old queen said to the spring Princ.

The crown Prince agreed with his mother as the house of the dragon was slowly starting to break away after the death of Prince Aemon soon followed by Prince Baelon given the title of Prince of Dragonstone instead of  giving it to Princess Rhaenys,Prince Aemon's only daughter.

If the problem was not solved then, there would be a future filled with destruction for House Targaryen.

As the news of the birth of his niece soon reached him , Prince Daemon closed his eyes and did nothing but smile for a minute. The gods had granted his prayers. Now,it is time for him to fulfill his part in the plan . But first,he needed to find a suitable dragon egg for his darling niece.

Words are that the people in the village near Dragonstone saw a dragon flew to an isolated cave a moon ago. Prince Daemon went alone to look for the dragon and see if there is any egg with it. As he went near the cave a familiar pungent smell of blood hit him. Someone must have died here recently.

When he went inside the cave,a dragon was seen lying motionlessly with no external injuries with it's silver scales glittering in the darkcave. 'It must have died from childbirth ' Prince Daemon thought . However,Something had caught his eye before he could fully examine the dragon. In the corner lays an egg so white that it brightens the whole cave.

Prince Daemon took the egg in his hands and decided that it would be perfect for his Issa dōna hāedar. He then went outside the cave and called Caraxes. The Blood Wyrm roared and landed near his rider. Prince Daemon touched it's about and said " Are you excited to see īlva tolie half, Caraxes?". After saying that, he claimed on his dragon to attend the family gathering tonight and meet a special someone.

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The preparations for the celebration had kept every servants on their toes . Lord Corlys Velaryon and his children had arrived to king's landing and was now sitting with King Jaehaerys, Queen Alysanne,Prince Baelon and Princess Rhaenys in the royal dining hall prepared for the occasion while the Velaryon siblings were taken to their chamber to sleep by heir wet nurses .

" Uncle Baelon,do you know where is Daemon ? He was not present here during Aemma's labour " Princess Rhaenys questioned . Before the spring Prince could reply, " I told you,Baelon. That son of yours doesn't care about his duties and was only interested in jousting and riding his dragon. Yesterday, I had gotten a velry good proposal from Lord Roland Royce of the Vale to make a betrothal with his only daughter to Daemon." Queen Alysanne angrily said to her son.

" I know about Daemon, mother. Even if he doesn't seem to care about the royal court, he is loyal to our family. Even now, he had gone to Dragonstone to fetch an egg for his niece. He should be coming now at anytime. And about Lord Royce's proposal, let Daemon decide about it, mother." Prince Baelon softly said to his mother. Before the Queen can reply, a piercing roar of a dragon echoed through

the walls. a knight had entered the hall and said " My King, Prnce Daemon had arrived at the dragon pit with his dragon".

" Well,  Daemon had chosen to come at the perfect timing with us speaking about him,  grandmother." Princess Rhaenys slyly replied. " Inform Prince Daemon to  come here soon." King Jaehaerys ordered. " Yes, y King " the royal gaurd replied and went away.

Meanwhile, Prince Viserys and Princess Aemma were getting ready for the celebration in their own bedchambers while their newborn daughter lied in the baby cot in her parents hared chamber.

Suddenly, the footsteps of a person echoed through the palace halls and the person stopped at the chamber where the young Princess was present.

The door of the chamber was opened by the royal gaurd to let the person in and the first thing that caught his eye was the

Cot made of mahogany wood.He then made his way and stopped right infront of the babycot.

In the moonlight,it can be seen that the person stnding there was the rogue Prince himself in a red tunic and black breaches. He was intensely gazing at the small figure lying on the cot in a white gown made of fine silks,her platinum blonde hair symbolising her as a Targaryen. That the same hot dragon blood coursing through his body is also in hers made him wondered.

As if sensing his presence, the littlest Princess opened her eyes to see the intruder.A gasp left Prince Daemon upon seeing her eyes.One emerald green and another Targaryen violet just like how his mother, Princess Alyssa, once had.

Now seeing the same eyes on his niece made his heart warm and a smile tugged in his face. " Welcome naejot īlva lentor, issa dōna darling . " Prince Daemon said to his now wiggling niece.

" I see my daughter had met her kepus already. " Prince Viserys had said while walking into the chamber. " Well, you all had been here from her. She must have yearned to see someone younger while surrounded by older people, brother "

Prince Daemon snarkily replied.

" I am only 20 summers old, Daemon. Besides who are you calling old when you yourself was going to be an adult?"

Prince Viserys retorted. " Oh Please! Don't start your verbal brawl in the presence of my daughter. I don't want her to bicker like you both." Princess Aemma intervened and said.

" Please,I had no wish to start a brawl with my brother after flying for hours on Caraxes to and from the Dragonstone. But it was so much worth it doing for my darling niece." Prince Daemon said while looking at the new addition of his family who was holded by his brother .

" Do you want to hold her, brother?" Prince Viserys asked his brother. " What if she might break in my hold?" Prince Daemon whispered. " She is not a glass,Daemon. She will not break" princess Aemma chuckled and said.

Carefully,the rogue Prince took his niece from his brother and held her in his arms. The young Princess looked at his hair and face and showed her toothless smile. The rogue Prince smiled back. " So, my daughter likes her uncle very much that she smiled for the first time." Princess Aemma said with amusement.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door and a kingsguard entered the chamber to inform that everyone of House Targaryen was present and now waiting for them. " Let's attend the family gathering, brother. Word of warning, I heard that grandmother was working on your betrothal to Lord Royce's only daughter." Prince Viserys said to his brother before walking towards the dining room with his wife.

" She can try but I won't marry anyone of her choosing " Prince Daemon muttered while following his brother while holding his niece.

" Stop talking, you both and Daemon, I knew Rhea Royce from childhood and she is an excellent leader and skilled in hunting." Princess Aemma whispered to them . Soon they reached the entrance of the royal dining hall while the guard outside announced their presence.

" Prince Viserys and his Princess consort Aemma of House Targaryen had arrived to the hall.Prince Daemon Targaryen, wielder of dark sister had arrived to the chamber."

As soon as he announced, They had entered the hall and sat on their respective seats in the table . King Jaehaerys had sat on the head of the table with Lord Corlys on the other end of the table while the old queen sat beside her husband and across her older son with Princess Rhaenys beside her husband and Pricess Aemma on her other side and across Prince Daemon.

Prince Viserys sat beside his brother and father.Prince Daemon can be seen holding his niece who was staring at the huge chandelier hanging above .

" I am glad that most of our family had  gathered here for celebrating the birth of my great granddaughter today. In her honour, let's toast for her good health and hope she brings glory to our house. Hear,hear." King Jaehaerys announced.

" Hear, hear " Everyone drank the wine in their glasses except Prince Daemon as he was only 15 summers old and still a child in their eyes. "Prince Viserys, I congratulate you for the birth of your daughter and may she grow with beauty and happiness." Lord Corlys said.

" Thank you,Lord Corlys,we are happy to see you here after sailing for a day from Dreamfort . " Prince Viserys replied back.

" Cousin,my husband and I have prepared a gift for our niece. I hope she likes it in the future " Princess Rhaenys said while signalling someone to present the gift." Oh my goodness! These are the rare type of pearls which possess different colours when shown in the sunlight " Queen Alysanne exclaimed looking at the chest of pearls in various colours. " We have imported them from the Braavos which took almost a week of sailing" Lord Corlys proudly said. " We express our gratitude for your wonderful gift, Lord Corlys " Princess Aemma said to them.

" Son , I too have prepared a gift for my granddaughter. I have named her as the Lady of the spring manor which is in the north where your mother liked to spend time " The crown Prince said to his son with mirth in his eyes." Thank you, father " Prince Viserys replied.

" Now, if you all have finished,can we start the dinner?" Queen Alysanne playfully questioned them. " Wait, grandmother .what is a Targaryen family gathering without dragons?. I too have gift for my darling niece. The one which will be the most precious to her than jewels and manors." Prince Daemon said. Everyone except Prince Baelon was puzzled at what his gift was . One of the guards came forward and kept a Iron container in the middle of the table. Prince Daemon handed his niece to her mother and opened the container took out an object.

In his hand,lays a dragon egg so white, that it shined brighter than those pearls. Everyone was perplexed at the sight of the egg ." I had never in my life saw a dragon egg of this colour. Where did you obtained this egg ,boy" King Jaehaerys questioned his grandson. " I had retrieved it from a dead dragon in a cave near Dragonstone, grandfather. It must have recently died from childbirth." Prince Daemon replied.

" Thank you, brother. It would be the most precious gift to my daughter anyone can give to her. " Prince Viserys thanked his brother. " And Aemma and I have decided a name for our child " he said to everyone present there . " And the name of my daughter will be Mariana Targaryen ,the first of her name , the Realm's Light. " Prince Viserys proudly announced."

Everyone was overjoyed about learning her name and toasted for another time but both Prince Baelon and Prince Daemon got emotional upon hearing her name. Princess Alyssa had always wished to name her daughter that but never gotten chance. Prince Baelon smiled at his eldest son for gratitude while Prince Daemon looked at his niece with a strange gaze.

The celebration continued as everyone shared shared some of the interesting incidents and ate dinner with whole heart . As wished upon, this gathering had made House Targaryen stronger than ever and hope it will remain stronger at difficult times.

Only future holds the answer to the questions.

Part four Part five Part six

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Author's Note: I hope you like the chapter done by my amateur writer self.

Do vote for my story if you like it.

@snowtargaryen @sadmonke @girl-of-multi-fandoms @cwallace02sblog

@bitchycollectorvoid @immyowndefender @kpopstanforlife2007 @hc-geralt-23 @beebeechaos

@ayamenimthiriel

[happynowyo]

Stubbornness

Fandom: Six of Crows

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader

Warnings: mentions of traumas and touch aversion, Reader being a Healer

A/n: so here's the thing I wanted something angsty and smutty but could come up only with the first part tonight so I'll do another hot part in a few days to finish this completely.

Word count: 2,1k

Part 2

— I don't need that, — the confident tone cut through the silence like a sharp knife, sending shivers down your spine for a second.

You might have believed it if you hadn't personally witnessed a couple of Dime Lions beating Kaz with such zeal that the crunch of his broken ribs was clearly audible in the empty valley.

So you continued to worry about him without listening to what was said. You paid far more attention to the quiet sighs Kaz let out with each step, leaning harder and harder on his bad leg, as you noticed the pained expression flickering in his eyes, though you had to hand it to him that he was using all his acting skills to pretend to be fine and make you leave.

— Stop being so stubborn! Even Matthias isn't afraid of my abilities anymore after I healed that bullet wound in his shoulder.

You determinedly followed Kaz into his room, letting the door slam menacingly. As a sign to Kaz that you wouldn't just give up and leave him to be alone with the pain. As a sign to everyone else in the Slat that no one was allowed to bother him anymore in the next couple of hours.

There was no relationship between the two of you. At least, that's what you both claimed when Jesper and Nina cast too many meaningful glances at you, and Inej carefully kept in a secret all those times she saw you leaving Kaz's bedroom before breakfast, knowing that you had spent the night with him. Saints, sometimes even you convinced yourself that you had nothing in common, even though certain details made it clear that your relationship had long gone beyond the professional.

If you didn't know Kaz personally, you'd think he was giving you conflicting signals. He was withdrawn and aloof, preferring to talk only about business. Even if he insisted and you spent the entire evening around him, he went about his deals as if he didn't notice your presence. His stern tone was used toward you as often as it was toward everyone else.

If you didn't know him, you'd be sure that Kaz Brekker was a cold, indifferent bastard who was only interested in kruge and the future death of Pekka Rollins. Calculating and cruel and completely incapable of basic affections. But in reality it was very different. The trick was not to take Kaz for an ordinary guy and not to see him as such. His difficult past had made him wear such armor that it had time to blend into his skin over the years.

In those moments when anyone else would have approached you with caring questions and a warm hug if you were suddenly hurt during the heist, Kaz would limit himself to a brief worried look, though later he would definitely comb down the person you were paired with. You once accused him of being incapable of showing any emotions, but you later realized that the Barrel had hardened him to show it in the most inconspicuous way possible, so as not to put you in any danger. Only the Saints know what Pekka or anyone else would have done to you if they had known about the secret feelings Kaz had for you.

When Wylan revealed that he knew a Healer, everyone took it with great enthusiasm. Even Kaz saw it as a good sign, and it made everyone feel a little more at ease about the tasks ahead, though you remembered to remind Crows to be careful. You could heal a lot, but it wasn't always instantaneous and serious wounds could take a couple of weeks to fully heal. The bigger problem was someone else's stubbornness - Jesper would drag himself to you almost every day with any simple cut, while Matthias or Kaz would literally have to be persuaded.

— I want to help. Let me, please.

Despite the soft shell, the authoritative tone was no deception to Kaz. He sighed heavily and, after a little hesitation, pulled off his jacket, ignoring the flash of pain around his shoulder. Who would have thought that Pekka's secretary was so good with knives?

— You're not supposed to be here, Y/n. He'll be looking for you. Did Pim let you in? — the curt speech was the proof of how much effort Brekker was making to hold back a painful groan and, God forbid, admit that he really needed some help.

You were bound to Anderson with an indenture and officially worked at one of his clubs along with the other Grishas. He was a part of the Merchant Council and was involved in key decisions regarding politics and trade in Ketterdam, which, however, did not stop him from accepting bribes, being under the wing of Pekka and running a real brothel in his club. Many men were really interested in spending the night with Grisha, though more often they ended up asking the girls to demonstrate their skills.

— Anderson is having a party tonight, along with a bunch of other great merchants. And you obviously knew that, since you'd snuck into Pekka's club, counting on the fact that he'd be among the other guests and his office would be empty. Why didn't Nina feel the heartbeat of the guards? — you were tired of the distance between you, so you approached first, gently helping to undo the buttons on Kaz's blood-soaked shirt. Your eyes tried desperately to catch his, but Brekker stubbornly looked away, trying to control the panic that was building up. Close bodily contact was still difficult for him, though his was making definite progress with your help.

— The Fabricator. Someone had worked on the office door, turning it into a veritable safe, through which it is impossible for Grisha to feel or hear anything. Someone from Dregs had told Pekka about our future attack.

Kaz looked angry, but you understood that he had already passed the stage of frustration with his subordinates and so was calculating his options as to who might had done it. His sharp mind was constantly at work, and it was clearly to his advantage now, since it distracted him from realizing how close your fingers were to his body. Phantom heat could already be felt, but it was nothing compared to what he was going to feel later.

You had tried some things before. Intimacy might have been expressed in different ways, but gradually you raised the degree higher and higher. Kaz was getting used to your presence more and more and it allowed him to push his boundaries a little further. Recently you were even able to spend the night in the same bed, separated only by the thin fabric of your pajamas. Before his trauma Kaz was a particularly tactile child, and you hoped to bring him back to that at least a little, showing him that physical touch didn't always have to be accompanied by pain and panic.

You remembered perfectly your first kiss. How timid and cautious it was at first. How desperate and greedy it became later, until a wave of anxiety swept over Kaz and made him pull away first. He focused on avoiding you for a whole week after that and was pretty sure that you were disappointed in his ability to control himself or that you were angry because of his attitude toward touching and the fact that he couldn't give you something normal. However, you managed to change his mind and you continued to take steps toward each other, guided by your growing feelings.

— None of that matters now. You took the papers you wanted, and I'll heal your wounds. We'll deal with everything else in the morning, okay? — you smiled encouragingly, and then you gently stepped closer, your fingers caressing Kaz's bare left side, trying to bind the broken ribs together. Your attentive gaze was fixed on Kaz's face the whole time, assessing and comparing, so that you could instantly catch the moment when the panic of too close contact would occupy his mind again.

— Will you stay? — Kaz finally stopped pretending that his brave solitude on that night was more appealing to him than your support.

— If you behave yourself, sweetheart.

You pulled his shirt aside and examined more closely many bruises and cuts that studded Kaz's torso. The open wound on his right shoulder demanded your attention first, so you gently nudged Kaz toward the bed so that he could sit on it and give you more space. As you worked, you couldn't stop gazing at him, admiring him openly, and your free palm lightly touched his hair, brushing back the strands that had fallen to his forehead. Tenderness filled your heart, and a wandering smile appeared on your lips that didn't escape Kaz's attention.

He liked these moments of comfort with you, and he expressed it in his own way, deciding to take the initiative and slowly run his fingertips from your knee up your thigh. You were standing almost between his legs and the height difference you created gave him an advantageous opportunity. Touching you was still new to Kaz, but the mind-fogging desire was too great and, at certain moments, overpowered any panic. And that's why he gently wrapped his arm around your wrist and pulled you toward him to make you sit on his lap, facing each other even closer.

— It's good you weren't there in his office. If Pekka finds out you're working with me, he'll definitely tell Anderson. They're great friends, it wouldn't cost him anything to get your indenture to himself, — Kaz' eyes were filled with pure hatred, and some part of you was glad it wasn't meant for you.

— You could buy me out. That way I would belong only to you.

— You already belong only to me, Y/n, — Kaz said confidently, in a wave of ghostly jealousy, not even paying attention to the fact that your palm moved to his face, healing his cheekbones from the horrible bruises.

— Only at night. You only claim me here, among these confined four walls, when no one can see or hear us, — you shrugged briefly, getting rid of the sadness in your voice. It would be foolish to expect a man like Kaz to drop everything and leave for a peaceful life. Ketterdam, power and the pursuit of money was everything to him. — Sometimes it takes an effort to remind myself of that during the day, when I don't know if I can see you again because people on streets are about to break the news of your death after another fight or because Anderson will sell me out to someone else.

It was harder to hear about it than to just know it and keep it in the back of his mind. You were the fairest and most beautiful girl for Kaz, the person he truly wanted to protect from everything and care about, and he was sickened by the thought that someone could take you away or hurt you somehow. The words swirled on his tongue, burning with its despair, and he needed to do something to hold on to that moment and cling to you, to prove that the only thing real now was you, your caressing touches erasing the painful sensation from his skin, and the heat of life itself that emanated from you.

The few times before all your kisses had come from you. Kaz had found it easier to accept touch than to touch himself, but now the need to be with you made him go with his urges, so his palm gripped your waist, pulling you closer, and his lips covered yours so hastily, as if he feared it was the last thing he would ever have time and ability to do in his life. But kissing him was still extremely satisfying.

So much that the desire instantly settled in your blood and made you more pliable. Your tongue slid playfully along his, and a convulsive, loud exhalation became yours in common. You unconsciously buried your fingers in his hair and pulled stronger, causing Kaz to moan briefly right into the kiss before he slowly pulled away with a completely shaken look and a bright smile and a glint in his eyes. And in that moment he looked a hell of a lot like his usual self, just a guy spending time with the girl he loved, and their only problem was not the prospect of death at the hands of rival gangs, but the question of whether they'd locked the door.

Although Kaz Brekker had another question stashed away — would you agree to wear that ring he bought for you so you could remember him and his feelings at all times?

Part 2

[americasass81]

Basement Lovers

Warnings 18+ for the following:- Dubious Consent, Spooky Halloween Vibes, Mention of A Loved One’s Death, Implied Witchcraft, Implied Murder / Human Sacrifice, Loss of Virginity, Oral (Female receiving), Fingering, P in V Sex, Multiple Orgasms.  Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Author’s Note 1:- Flowing from my muse as part of this spooky season, it seemed by the time I was finished this fic lent itself to a totally unspecified male character so I simply went with it.  Hope anyone that reads it envisions their own character and likes the result.  A special thank you also has to go to the fabulous @caplanbuckybarnes whose Titles For Caplan Writing Challenge makes a very welcome appearance here too.

Author’s Note 2:- Flashback scenes in color.

Synopsis:- Coming across a strange body in the basement of an old abandoned mansion you quickly discover that not all myths belong to the past.

Pairings:- Unspecified Male Character x Female Reader

Total Word Count:- 4,052

Leaving home and setting out on your walk as you normally did, the autumn evening and the cooling breeze welcomed you always like a well known lover and eased away the tensions the daily grind of that work and life had left behind.  And the children running to and fro in all the various costumes of the Halloween season only added to the magic.  A magic you yourself would soon come to experience.

Smiling and waving at the passing parents who acknowledged your presence with the same cordial greeting before taking a left turn off the main road and heading towards the older part of the neighborhood, a whisper on the breeze caught your attention and sent an eerie feeling creeping down your spine, but as usual looking around you, you saw nothing and simply shrugged it off as part of the holiday atmosphere before heading off on your walk once more.  Except you didn't get very far and there was definitely something to see after all.

Standing outside the old McHenry house now on Blackthorn Lane, the eerie feeling seemed stronger here but it was nothing compared to the compulsion that now moved you up the driveway towards the entrance.  A path no one in living memory had ever walked before.  Placing one foot in front of the other now, while looking around curiously as the very air seemed to shimmer and sway all around you, your hand coming up to rest upon the doorknob fully expected to find the thing locked.  But that was not the case however.

Turning at your touch and opening now of its own volition, you turned your head back towards the road, fully intending to walk away from this unnatural occurrence, but it seemed the house had different plans.  Calling out to you in a way no other place ever had, your curiosity now overpowered every sense of self preservation that had been drilled into you by those that had gone before you and so stepping inside you really should have been freaked out when the door slammed shut behind you, but your attention was focused elsewhere.

Gazing around the foyer now at an inside that looked far better maintained than the grounds outside, the beauty and grandeur once present here was still evident for all to see ... even beneath the layer of dust coating everything like a protective lover.  Hell, even on closer inspection, you could see that the years hadn't really claimed this place at all.  Walking now from room to room as a feeling you couldn't explain compelled you forwards, the windows were all still somehow intact and the floorboards showed not one sign of wear or decay.  It was remarkable actually.  What would have proved even more remarkable you imagined, had you ventured upwards, would be the fact that the roof overhead was still as pristine as the day the first slate had been placed upon it, but fate it seemed was calling you in a totally different direction.

Having made your way throughout the ground floor and right back to where you had started, a door now visible on the wall beneath the double staircase that definitely wasn't there before completely held your attention in a way that should have told any sane person to get the hell out of there.  But then it was the failure of that very instinct earlier that already led you here and found you now opening this door too to see what lay inside.  Which would end up being a most terrible mistake.

Walking forward now and ignoring this door closing too as if in a trance, the stone steps appearing before you didn't seem to register the danger you were in.  For the house seemed to have you now.  Continuing downwards now, one foot at a time, your eyes widened in both shock and surprise as the scene before you tapped into an old memory your grandmother had shared with you as a child and confirmed all that you now saw before you.  The legend was true.

Seated in the middle of this basement type room on a throne cast in the most elaborate of materials, the man chained to its armrests however had to be none other than the last known occupant of this opulent manor.  And the last known sorcerer from centuries ago if the stories were to be believed.  Reaching back through your memory now to the week before your grandmother had died, the girl you were then recalled in vivid detail the tale she had spun that you had simply chalked up to an old woman's fanciful imagination.  But that it seemed was no longer the case.

Speaking in hushed tones then that only came about with age, the woman you loved so dearly had painted a picture of a vibrant town that prospered far beyond the other towns and times around it until one day the truth of its success was finally laid bare and the decline which reaches all at last took hold there too.

Explaining how the story went of a neighborhood seamstress stumbling upon some strange ritual taking place within the bowels of McHenry Manor, your grandmother continued to explain that a group of skilled local women supposedly versed in the arts of witchcraft entered the Manor after hearing her report, performed some type of ritual of their own and were never heard from again as the Manor's grounds somehow sealed themselves shut to all who tried to enter.

At least, that was the official version.

Watching your grandmother's eyes light up now as so many kids did when they knew something no one else did, your grandmother beckoned you closer now so she could impart to you one last secret it seemed before time finally claimed her.  What she had never told you before, what no one in your life or surrounding neighborhood had ever told you before it seemed, was that the mansion was far older than you had ever known and it was an ancestor of yours that had not only been one of the women responsible for its current condition, she was also the only one to walk free from that cursed place.

A place you had now entered.

Coming back to the present now and looking back on the story in a different light, you still couldn't understand what all this meant and what it had to do with you.  But it seemed there were still mysteries here to unravel.  Walking around the room now while blatantly ignoring the figure obviously trapped in its center, your hands coming in contact with an invisible barrier as you reached out to pick up something off a nearby table told you there was definitely more to your grandmother's story than just the creative ramblings of an old woman.  For one, not a speck of dust lingered here as it did in the rooms above you.

Trying various other spots now along the table, cabinets and bookshelves still as pristinely preserved as every other part of this odd building, the invisible barrier still halting your progress might have triggered your frustration if a burst of inspiration didn't suddenly occur to you however ... the man on the throne?  Was it possible somehow that he could be the one thing in this whole room that you could actually touch?

Holding onto this thought now while silencing every other thought and instinct that screamed at you not to follow through with your idiotic intentions, your feet brought you closer and closer to the center of the room and the vision now waiting there.  For there was no other way to describe him.

Not one for putting much stock in looks if you were honest and wholly unskilled in the art of dating, sex and all that came with it, you would of course have to be both blind and stupid not to admit that the man now seated before you, untouched by time, was nothing short of stunning.  Tall in life, if his seated posture was any indication, his dark hair, striking cheekbones and all round muscular frame offered a rare insight into the man he must have been in life and the presence he no doubt commanded in every room he must have entered.  But what of him now?

Walking in a circle around the throne now while taking in the chains that ran from his wrist to the chair he occupied in death as he had in life, your mind still couldn't comprehend that this was the same man.  How could it be?  The story had seemed weird and fanciful enough when your grandmother had shared it with you.  And now, here you stood before someone supposedly far, far older than you and yet ... he could so easily be someone with whom you could see yourself sharing a life.

Which probably explained why your hand now rested against his cheek as your fingers caressed the startlingly soft skin beneath them.  But perhaps the most startling thing of all was the result this action brought forth as the stranger's eyes now opened and locked with yours as if trying to reach out and connect with your very soul.  And perhaps that might have happened if his actions that followed didn't pull you from your musings.

"Witch, I can smell your magic," the stranger croaked out suddenly before continuing, "dormant as the ashes of ancient times, but no matter.  Wherever the spark is present, I still have the power to reach out and harness it."  Rising from his throne then as the chains still held him to it, your mind screamed at you again to run, but your legs didn't seem to want to cooperate to that extent.  Taking one step back instead for every one he took towards you, the snapping of the iron as they reached their maximum length seemed to be just the catalyst you needed to fire you into action.  However, your handsome stranger it seemed had other ideas.

Murmuring words you had never heard before, words in fact no other human had now heard in centuries, the barrier that previously kept you from his possessions now somehow extended to keep you from the door, but it wasn't this occurrence that frightened you at this moment.  No, instead it was the niggling force working its way throughout your body that somehow now caused you to not only turn around and face your captor, but take you right back towards him.

Screaming at yourself now to fight whatever was happening, though no words were ever heard, your legs finally halting your movements just within his reach told you somehow that this was his doing.  And that was even before the man spoke again.  "Ah yes," he still croaked as his slender fingers now came up to caress your cheek in the very same manner yours had done to him earlier, "I can see her in you.  Your ancestor.  Can feel her in you too," he continued with a smirk and if nothing else had scared you thus far then this action definitely did.

Evil in a way you couldn't describe, the smirk, coupled with those same fingers roaming over any part of your immobile body his reach could now access, it was his next words that wormed their way into your heart and froze it solid.  "She was with child.  Did you know that?" he asked as he still caressed your skin before revealing the final details of the story your dear departed grandmother was never privy to.  Standing her ground and refusing his advances and promises as each of her sisters fell before him, your ancestor it seemed had given the last of her power to bind him forever to this place, but not before he had cast one last spell himself.  A terrifying one he now took pride in revealing to you.

Reaching for her stomach as her own hands closed around his wrists and forged the chains that kept him rooted to this spot, his words invoked an ancient and powerful curse that in turn bound him to her bloodline.  Promised in time would come a child, ignorant in the ways of magic, but destined to be his forever by the mark that sealed her fate.  A mark he now revealed to you as his hand formed a fist below your throat and tore your top clean in half.  There above your belly button now, as it had been your whole life, his fingers tracing the crescent moon birthmark brought you back to yourself and the shocking implications of all that he had just revealed.

You were meant to be his.  But how was such a thing even possible?

No one in your family that you knew of possessed any magical ability and the birthmark he so reverently spoke of had never so much as raised an eyebrow among anyone that had seen it.  Surely if such a curse had been laid upon your ancestor someone in the family would have known about it.  Been watching and waiting for it.  Surely to simply ignore it would have been the height of foolishness.  After all, if your ancestor was as powerful as this man and your grandmother had seemingly believed surely she would have left a warning for those that came after her that such a grave threat hung over every one of her female descendants.

Unless!  What was it he had said about her giving the last of her power to bind him to this place?  Could it be she had thought that no longer having magic would save her descendants from whatever he had done?  The laugh you let escape your lips at this little insight now told both you and the stranger how foolish that miscalculation had proven to be however, for it seemed the stranger had won, your ancestor had lost and you would be expected to pay the ultimate price.  But what was that price exactly?

Raising your head to look at the stranger now, though his fingers never left your mark, your voice caught in your throat at your first attempt at speaking, but a quick cough soon found his full focus back on your face as you now began to question exactly what lay ahead.  And his answer made you wonder if the curse itself hadn't invisibly dictated aspects of your life you had never even considered.  For it seemed your lack of experience could be laid at his feet.

Explaining now that you had the power to free him, while he had the power to awaken gifts you never even knew you possessed, it seemed a kiss was the key to this whole thing ... your first kiss.  Bound through spells older than the oldest of gods, you giving yourself to him, body and soul, would complete the ritual and meld your souls together in a way that made both of you stronger than the parts that time had currently separated.  But you had to agree.  A choice your ancestor had refused time and time again it seemed, leaving you now having to choose to walk your own path like her or embrace the one she had unknowingly thrust upon you.  Which didn't seem like much of a choice really given that you couldn't seem to leave this place.

Grasping onto this particular thought now and shocking the stranger as you turned around and walked away from him, your hand reaching out for the door once more and still finding it blocked from the same invisible barrier you suspected still held you here, you now returned to the stranger and asked the only question that truly seemed to matter.  "If I refuse to help free you this barrier will keep me trapped here forever, right?" and the smirking nod he sent your way was the only confirmation you needed that your life as you knew it was well and truly forfeit.  Which now left only one course of action available to you.

Moving forward now and placing your lips against his, what had started out as something weird and clumsy soon changed to something completely different however as the man before you took control and deepened the kiss into something you knew you could never have initiated on your own.  Biting your lips gently before his tongue sought entry and began to twirl itself with yours, his hands now pulling your body flush against his made you suddenly aware of everything your young life had so far been missing out on.  And it seemed this revelation only made you yearn for more.

Twenty-four years old now and already past the age that most of your friends had begun to experiment with all the hidden activities their bodies had been designed to experience, it seemed your earlier conclusion had been correct ... the spell invoked all those centuries ago had somehow suppressed your natural urges if the sounds emanating from your body now were any indication.  Panting, moaning, whimpering and sighing as his kisses grew harsher and your bodies now began to grind against each other, you were about to push him away in a much needed attempt to suck some oxygen into your over exerted lungs when his weight suddenly pushing you down to the floor brought a whole different thought bubbling to your mind ... the chains that held him were no more.

Free to ravage you now in whatever depraved manner his years of captivity saw fit, it still seemed that he alone was in full control of the situation unfolding all around you as the concrete floor below you and his weight above you didn't quite seem to crush you in the manner you would have expected.  But that still didn't bring you the relief it should have, for now there was nothing between you and the man that meant to claim you.  And that's exactly what he set about doing.

Removing your clothes as he did his own, his lips, tongue and teeth now began the same manipulation of your body as they had with your mouth and the experience was one you knew you would never be able to recreate on your own or with any other.  Sucking here.  Licking there.  Biting, pulling and squeezing with just the right amount of pressure to make you question whether the experience was pleasurable or painful, the moisture leaking now from between your legs left no doubt at least as to how your body felt.  It was coming alive in a way it never had before.

Reaching out towards his own body now as you tried to find something to ground you while his skillful ministrations continued to pull you apart, his hips now grinding against your intimate area brought what he had planned into stark focus however and you suddenly found the strength to push him from you at least enough that you could now see the face of the man who was determined to make you his own.  But were you ready for that?  It seemed you would either have to get ready pretty fast or convince him of your fears and doubts however if the rod now glistening beneath his legs was any indication.  For it seemed he was well on his way to getting things started.  But it also seemed he wasn't totally ignorant of what the intricacies of the spell had entailed however, as his eyes now followed yours to his dangling member and the implications its growing size meant for you.  

"Don't worry darling, I'm well versed in using this tool and preparing all equipment properly.  It may hurt slightly at first," he cautioned as his fingers now rested against your cheek in a gesture meant to reassure, "but I promise the pleasure and power on offer will soon obliterate all memory of any discomfort our coupling creates," he continued and this time as his lips connected with your nether region instead of your mouth all concerns your mind had previously conjured seemed to disappear as it now tried desperately to keep your lungs working while also trying to find the words to express the feelings assaulting every nerve in your body from the sensations working their way from his mouth to your flower.  But it seemed you couldn't really describe what was happening.

Holding down your hips with one hand as his tongue and teeth manipulated a particularly sensitive spot between your legs, you could now only pant out shallow breaths while murmuring the word yes over and over and over again as first one finger and then another entered your private field and connected with parts of you you never knew existed or were even capable of creating the reaction this man was now pulling from you.  But you knew you never wanted him to stop.

Reaching towards his head now and locking it in place with your hands and thighs, he somehow took your participation as consent and doubling his efforts, the scream that ripped forth from your throat at the same time your body spasmed and liquid gushed from your garden into his waiting mouth told you that this must be what a full body orgasm felt like ... and you didn't think you could survive another.  But it seemed your companion couldn't give a rat's ass what you thought.

Continuing to stimulate your flower as wave after wave of orgasmic bliss radiated through you from head to toe, you were too far gone it seemed to notice his manhood replace his mouth, but not too far gone apparently to remember the words his lips had spoken earlier as he thrust it home in one fluid motion and a scream tore your soul apart when a white hot pain traveled along every nerve ending you possessed and threatened to rip all conscious thought from you, leaving nothing behind but an empty husk dedicated now to nothing but his pleasure.  But it seemed that was a mild exaggeration.

Remaining still within you and shushing your pain with soothing words that sounded vaguely like those one lover might speak to another, your bodies remained connected as one until suddenly the fullness within you became more than both of you seemed able to handle and your hips began to nudge his own all by themselves.  Taking this as a sign now that you wanted more of what he had to offer, your shallow breaths and whimpered sobs soon gave way to slapping skin and ancient words as the man above you ratcheted his member in and out of your pussy while a magical glow spread forth from your birthmark and ignited a fire within far more penetrating than the one that triggered your meltdown when his erection had torn through your maidenhead.

Continuing to pound into you now over and over and over again as one orgasm ended and another one began, his words eventually died on the air at the same time his balls and cock tightened like a coil before releasing burst after burst of warm cum against your now well used walls.  Swearing and groaning out above you now as those same walls clamped down hard around his shaft and milked him dry of every bit of his essence he had to give, his body now collapsing atop yours was indication enough that the man was spent.  But you however still seemed to have some wits about you.  Rolling him off of you onto his side now, though he still somehow managed to remain inside you and as a result brought you with him, you would have asked him what the future now held, but something told you the answer to that was pretty obvious.

Gazing at him now as the haze which held him earlier had somehow slipped away as a result of what both of you had just shared, the feeling between your legs, the memory of what both of you had just done and the sparks now lighting up your fingertips told you one thing loud and clear ... you were not your ancestor.  Giving into your desires and the knowledge that had been kept from you your whole life, you had chosen your own path and for better or worse you would walk it now beside this man for however long forever lasted.

[shadowynn]

| in love and lore | eight |

pairing: ateez x fem reader

genre: fantasy/daemon/soulmate au

warnings: some cursing, mentions of death and violence

summary: the daemon king and his seven black generals. names and faces of these eight had changed over the years as each new king was crowned, but their reputation as the most powerful daemons always remained the same. upon hearing the rumors one of the seven led the charge of the nearby battle, you should have stayed close to the encampment. you should have never wandered out on your own. but you did, and your life would never be the same again. good or bad, you would just have to wait to find out.

“There’s no need to be afraid, angel.” His words were a breath against the side of your neck. “You’ve done so much for us, let your king now return the favor.”

wordcount: 14.5k

| seven | eight | nine |

a/n: ahhh, it's finally here and so much longer than i originally planned. when i first started this chapter, i planned on it covering the entirety of their travels back to the daemons' kingdom, but here we are, and you'll come to see that journey will be for the next chapter and we're still outside maehwa by the end of it. oops. but i am super happy with how this came out. don't really know how it did or what possessed me, but it did and it's here. so i hope you all enjoy. :)

also, taglists will be moving to reblogs as i think you guys are so awesome and cool, a singular post can't contain you all so those will be following here in a few moments after this posts.

~

"May I sit with you?"

You glanced up from the pen and paper in hand at the voice that spoke above you, though it was done more out of habit than to see who it was. You already had that piece of information, having felt his gaze on you for the past half hour.

You had done all you could to avoid Hongjoong and his generals over the past few days, but any success you had found hadn't been on your part, but their own attempt in giving you the space you desperately craved. While you had woke up early and spent the past hour curled up next to the barrier to watch the sunrise by yourself, you had been well aware of Yeosang's nearby presence and wondered if he would ever make a move.

You met his eyes briefly before turning back down to the paper before you, simply shrugging your shoulders instead of bothering to verbally answer his question. You didn't quite have it in your heart to refuse him, but you did hope the defensive stance your body had taken at his presence would have been enough to deter him. It didn't, not that you had really expected it to, and he simply took your silent response as an excuse to sit down on the ground next to you. Not quite close enough to be touching, but close enough for you to shift your stance a bit before busying yourself with the paper you had been doodling on in an attempt to clear your mind. It had worked well enough up to this point, but his new proximity to you caused your anxiety to spike once more.

He had to have wanted something. While your attempts at completely avoiding them had been futile, none of them had approached you in the manner Yeosang now did. Any interactions with them had been brief and awkward. There was much they wanted to say. Either to apologize or convince you in some manner, but they held their tongues, fully knowing you didn't want to talk about it at this point.

The constant guard from before had been dropped from that night, and though you had more time to yourself than you had ever had since they had brought you here, you found little relief in the matter. Not with the barrier you had run across that first night remaining up and present. They had claimed it was simply an added precaution to keep you safe after the incident at the masquerade, but you weren't an idiot. You knew they had simply exchanged one guard for another. The thought of running had crossed your mind more than once since that first night, though not in the way they were worried of. Part of you did want to run and escape this fate that had been placed on you, but you knew it wasn't something you could or would succeed in. And even if you did, where would you go? You had nowhere to go or anyone to run to. But the fleeting thoughts you had made of it must have slipped over in their minds as well, and the barrier was the needed precaution they had taken to keep it from happening.

Honjoong had claimed they could only read the thoughts you outwardly projected, and only then when you were within a certain proximity of them, but without any other explanation of the process, you struggled to understand what exactly he had meant by it or how you could control it yourself. Based on your past experiences, you were certain things had slipped through, but without knowing which thoughts had or hadn't, it was impossible to tell just how much they had gleaned from you in the meantime. And with the way you struggled to control the panic that took root in your stomach each time you saw one of them, you had the sinking suspicion they knew more than they let on. The glances they sent to each other when they thought you weren't looking was all the evidence you needed of that fact.

"Hongjoong has informed us that the treaty talks have come to a conclusion."

You tensed at the mention of him, shifting your position against the barrier you had been using as a backrest. And though your eyes stayed focused on the sketch in your lap, you caught the way Yeosang's body extended past the barrier out of the corner of your eye, a fact that had your grip tightening its grip on the pencil in hand.

You hadn't seen Hongjoong since that night.

Wanting nothing more than to be alone, you had strayed near the edge of the camp long into the night, contemplating over everything he had told you. You had run through everything he had said over and over, and yet, you still struggled to make sense of it all to this day. No matter which way you wrapped your head around it, parts of it would still not make sense. You couldn't have been his mate. Not when you weren't a daemon. Not when you were someone who should have never been born. And then, if it was true, and you truly were his mate, then he shouldn't have been fine with the fact as much as he seemed to, not with the giant gap between statuses. Not when he was a king.

As much as you knew you should, you had yet to divulge the information to Soomin or Hyunwoo. You were well aware telling them could perhaps give you some much needed advice or reassurance, but the courage always left you the moment you opened your mouth. You didn't know how they would react or whether or not they would hate you for it. And you could already hear the teasing statements Hyunwoo would make from it, only serving to fuel the flustered state the knowledge left you in already.

The two of them had taken the occupancy of a nearby tent after the masquerade, Jongho's statement of them being brought back with you proving true when he had allowed you a brief visit before your talk with Hongjoong. It was there that you had returned to that night once your tears had finally dried up, unable to go back to your own tent at the prospect of being forced to see him again. Neither one of them had been asleep when you had slipped inside and had been quietly conversing on the edge of one of the cots when you had appeared.

Your sudden presence had surprised them, as well as the state you were in, but they hadn't tried to press for anything more than whether or not you were safe for the time being. They were curious as to what had happened and the meaning behind their behavior, that much was obvious, but you hadn't had the courage to tell them. So when Hyunwoo offered up his bed instead of pressing you further, you had nodded your appreciation and curled up inside it without another word.

But as much as you had wanted to hide inside that tent forever, it was impossible. Despite never telling them where you had gone off to, Mingi had still been waiting for you outside the tent when you had woken up the following afternoon, chatting idly with Hyunwoo. Though he had made no mention of anything that had occurred the night before or why you had retreated into your siblings' tent, you had felt the concern he extended towards you all the same, and it had been impossible for him to completely hide the care that had laced his tone each time he had spoken.

You had never been entirely comfortable with any of them before, but this... This threw away any sort of progress you had made towards it since you had met them. You didn't know where you stood with them anymore - not that you really had before - let alone how to act around them now. The revelation of your newfound relation to them hung heavy in the air each time you were forced to interact, leaving you feeling more vulnerable than ever. It was impossible to look them in the eye, let alone stop the blush that came creeping up the back of your neck whenever they referred to you by those damned nicknames of theirs. Each use of 'angel' or 'pretty' only now served as a sharp reminder of how you were now stuck here with them, sealed to a fate you had no control over.

You had been right when you had told Seonghwa how harsh reality could be at times that night so long ago, and though you had hated how clueless you had been before, you almost wished you could have your ignorance back, almost preferring the anxiety it had brought over the anxiety the truth brought with it.

"We'll remain here for a few more days to ensure everything is properly instated, but preparations for the journey back to Taeyang have already begun." If he noticed your discomfort, he didn't show it, continuing on with his previous train of thought as he gazed upwards at the city's walls. "If you wish, I can escort you back to the city and help you gather anything you might wish to take with you."

"How generous of you," you murmured, "allowing me the time to grab a few comforts of home before stealing me away."

Up to this point, no one had explicitly mentioned what was to happen now, and if Hongjoong had been going to, you had left before he got around to it. You weren't completely clueless, however, and were able to read between the lines. If Hongjoong really had told you the truth, and you really were their mate, and they really intended to act upon this fact, you knew you wouldn't be staying here. You knew you would be left with no choice but to go down south with them, and the casual mentions the others had made of this had all but secured this fact for you. And yet, despite fully aware of what was coming, it did little to lessen the blow upon finally hearing it.

"Would you prefer to stay here with the humans, then, and continue the life you had led before? A life where you were overworked, insulted, and hated?"

"No," your body tensed, "but that doesn't mean I wish to go with you either."

"Then where do you wish to go? What is it that you wish to do if it's neither staying here and continuing the life you had before nor a new one with us?"

"I don't know," you shrugged, "somewhere..."

"Somewhere you could open up your own shop? A place where you could do whatever you wanted on your own terms and no one else's?" he answered for you, the corner of his lip tilting up. "We could give you that you know? Perhaps not in the exact way you always imagined, but we could give you anything you needed to grow and brew whatever it was you desired."

His words were a reference to a time that now felt like a different lifetime altogether, a time where you had been clueless to his true identity and in awe of the attention and kindness he had extended your way. A time where you had thought him nothing more than a concerned human who had truly seen you for who you were and not for the blood running through your veins.

Upon first discovering he was a daemon, you had originally thought it had been nothing more than an act. Something to get you to drop your guard and pin the murder of Hak Seongmin on you. But now that you knew exactly what was going on, the weight of his actions hit in a different way. And the implication he had made when he had mentioned what it was he yearned for if things had been different hit you hard in this moment.

You had thought his wish had been odd at the time. The idea that someone like him could never settle down and find someone to marry had seemed impossible with his attractive features and suave personality, but now you understood. For the majority of his life, he had been told a mate and family was something he would never have. That he had been born with the sole purpose of serving and protecting his king. And yet, everything had changed when Hongjoong had been crowned and the bond between them had snapped in place. Unlike you, the life he had craved was now at the tip of fingers.

"Was anything you said that day true?"

With all motivation to draw thrown out the window, you dropped the pencil you had been fiddling with into your lap and exchanged it for a loose strand at the edge of your sleeve.

"I know how it might seem from your view, but let me assure you everything I told you that day was true." His gaze was trained on you, but you refused to meet it. "The only thing I hid from you that day was the fact I wasn't human."

"And what if," you found it hard to speak, afraid of the answer to the question that had been burning in your head for days now, "what if I wasn't your mate? Would you have treated me with the same kindness you had shown me that day? Or would you have turned the other way like everyone else and simply let me die?"

Ever since you had gotten over your shock and come to accept everything Hongjoong had told you was very well true, the question had haunted your thoughts. What if you hadn't been their mate? What would have happened then? Would they have treated you with the same kindness they had shown you by your deeds as the Black Angel and the people you had saved, or would they have killed you where you stood when Seonghwa had revealed your identity? Was the only reason they were kind to you and treated you like everyone else simply because you were their mate and nothing more? And if things had been different, would you even still be alive?

Yeosang was silent for a moment, brows furrowing as he mulled over his answer to your question. Each moment that ticked by only serving to further fuel your insecurities, telling you what you had known all along. That things would have been different.

"You're right on the account that things would have been different, but not in the way you're assuming."

This time you did look up at him, eyes narrowing at the way his reply ended up being a response to your thoughts and not the question you had verbally asked him.

"Sorry." He had the decency to look ashamed for a moment, fingers digging into the ground beside him as he frowned. "It's just, without any proper training, you're akin to an open book. The heightened emotions from the past few days has made your thoughts and emotions overflow to the rest of us whether you mean them to or not, and sadly, we have very little means to block them out."

His apology felt sincere, but it didn't stop you from pulling your legs in closer, feeling more embarrassed than you had before now that you knew just how much they must have gathered from you. The pitiful looks they had sent you the past few days now worse than before.

"It won't always be this way though. We can teach you to control them, if you'd let us. Though you would probably excel the most with Mingi. Out of us all, he's always been the best at maintaining his thoughts."

"You said things would have been different," you replied, returning the conversation back to the question Yeosang had avoided earlier. "Different how?"

"Well, you did save Seonghwa's and the others' lives, so we would have happily followed through with our promise to repay you for your deeds and ensured your safety through the war's end. After that, well, it's a bit hard to say what Hongjoong would decide, but I imagine he would have extended an invitation for you to come back to Taeyang with us and hired you as a healer based on your natural talent and daemon ability."

"Forgive me when I say I have a hard time believing that." He might have said he had yet to lie to you, but that didn't mean he hadn't hidden things from you before, and you had a hard time believing he wasn't hiding something now when his claims of truth seemed so far-fetched. Perhaps they would have extended an offer your way, but you doubted you would have been given a choice in the matter, and would have only landed yourself in a similar position to the one you had before with the humans. Only this time with daemons calling you names instead of the humans. "And even if you are telling the truth, and you would have kept me alive to the end, would you have still done it if I had no healing capabilities? Or would it have just been a way for you to get a hold of my blood and use me as the humans have?"

"I understand how it might all appear from your view and I'll be the first of us to admit your worries do not come completely unwarranted. The daemons have not always been kind to those without a pure lineage and hundreds, if not thousands, of people have suffered and died under this obsession they've had. For it was the daemons who hunted down and killed the half-daemons when the war began and not the humans. And it would be easy to blame that occurrence and any similar one on the former king and his growing paranoia, but it was from centuries of prejudice that carried those acts to fruition and nothing I say or do will ever make up for it."

"You hunted them down?" It was hard to keep your voice level at the wave of disgust that coursed through you. You had known the daemons often killed your kind for no other reason than their hatred for your existence, but hearing how they had actively been hunted down for something they had no control over was something else altogether. "Why?"

"Hongjoong's father was not a nice man, and he craved power more than anything else. And the more time went by, the more his lust for it increased, and with it, came paranoia. He was afraid of anything and everything that could challenge him for it, including Hongjoong who he kept under a strict watch. He knew Hongjoong had the power to overthrow him, just as his father had overthrown his grandfather, so he did everything he could to ensure that would never come to pass." Yeosang's body had become tense as he spoke, his previous relaxed state hardening. "So, when the war began and he heard the humans had decided to gather up as many half-daemons as they could for the war efforts, the order to hunt and exterminate any and all half-daemons was given. It's the reason why the war hit the borders so hard in the beginning; the daemon troops under orders to burn them all to the ground, no matter whose side they were on."

"And you wonder why I was thankful to have been born among the humans," you retorted, voice full of bitterness.

"Things are changing though. Hongjoong is not the man his father was. When he heard what his father was doing, he recruited us to do everything we could to save as many of his people as he could, but there was only so much we could do before it was too late. There were only so many people we could save."

"And why's that? Why did he care? Why did any of you care?"

"Now that is a question that requires a long and rather complicated answer, one that I am unable to fully answer myself, but I will do my best to explain to you what I can." His head tilted, black eyes catching yours, and for the first time since he had appeared you didn't look away. "Has anyone explained to you or mentioned what my ability is?"

You shook your head, wondering what that had to do with the topic you were just discussing, but you knew better than to question him on it. After all, you did hold some curiosity to what his and the others' daemon abilities were.

"I can create illusions, making those around me see, feel, and hear whatever it is that I wish them to. Take this butterfly for example." A hint of a smile reappeared on his face as he reached his hand out for the insect, allowing it to take rest on his finger. "It's not real; simply an image I'm projecting inside each of our heads at the moment." To prove his point, he raised his opposite hand to swipe at the bug. To your surprise, his fingers ran through it as though it was only air, causing the image to ripple for a few seconds. "Believe it or not, it took years of training for me to pull off tricks like this one. Tasks such as changing my appearance or disappearing from view entirely took little more than innate talent, but mimicking another living being to where it was believable was something much harder altogether."

The butterfly's wings extended, taking off from Yeosang's hand to make the short trek over to your knee. You eyed it closely, in utter disbelief to discover it wasn't real. That it was nothing more than an illusion the man next to you had created for you to see. Everything about it felt real, down to the way its wings fluttered in the breeze to the way its feet tickled your skin as it moved along the back of your left hand.

"It's the same guard ability your father had."

"You knew my father?" Your lips twisted, teeth pulling at the bottom corner of your lip, unsure of just how this revelation made you feel. On one hand, you had no desire to learn about the man who had destroyed your family when he had killed your mother, especially not that you now knew just what sort of man he had served, but another part of you was curious. Curious to know if he really did match the rumors or if perhaps there might have been a chance there was some truth behind Soomin's hazy memories of the man.

Yeosang nooded. "When the new members of the guard pop up, the current members devote quite a bit of time training them up and teaching them how best to utilize their abilities. Since I shared the ability of you father, we spent quite a bit of time together in my youth and we were quite close before he was sent to Maehwa." He paused for a second, and you could feel the way his eyes had traveled back to you. "Did you know your brother looks just like him? So much so, it took me by surprise the first time I saw him, and for a second, I thought it might have actually been him until I saw his eyes." The butterfly on your hand vanished then, causing your eyes to lock on his for a split second. "But I see now that you were the one to inherit them instead."

You struggled to control the way your stomach twisted at his words and were quick to divert your eyes. The light expression on his face showed he hadn't meant anything negative by them, but that didn't stop the wave of insecurities that hit you as he commented on the one feature you had spent years wishing you could change and the reason behind them.

"You're a lot like him, you know?" Yeosang's voice softened and a hand was placed on top of your shoulder. "A little stubborn, maybe, but incredibly selfless and kind. Someone who could see beyond the status of daemon and human. He would have absolutely adored you."

"Just like he adored my mother?" you rebuked his statement, pulling back far enough to cause his hand to drop.

"It's not that simple."

"What do you mean? He killed her, didn't he? What more is there to tell"

"It's... complicated." You were quick to see the way Yeosang had tensed up again, dropping his gaze back to his lap. "And though I played a small role in an attempt to stop the events that occurred that night, it's not my story to tell. If you wish to hear what happened, you would need to speak with Hongjoong. It's his story to tell."

"No, you can't leave it at that." You shook your head, forcing him to meet your eyes. You weren't going to play that game again. You weren't going to let them keep their secrets from you and brush off your questions. "He was my father and it was my mother, so I think I have a right to know. So, tell me, did he kill her?"

"I'm sorry, angel, truly, but I shouldn't be the one to explain that night to you. Trust me when I say you need to hear it from Hongjoong. After everything he went through to get here, he deserves to be the one to tell you." And despite the way his words frustrated you, you could see the desperation in them, as though he truly believed it would be best if you heard it from Hongjoong. "But something you should know is that your father was a good man. He knew I wasn't fully daemon, and yet, he never once treated me differently for it. And it was him who helped me gain the courage to finally tell the others."

You couldn't stop the sharp inhale his words brought, eyes widening as you process what he had just said and wiping away any remaining thoughts you had about the conversation before for the time being. He had mentioned it so casually, that you had almost missed it, caught up in figuring out what it was he had hinted about.

Yeosang wasn't fully daemon.

Yeosang, one of the Seven, and one of the highest ranking daemons in this part of the world, wasn't even fully daemon.

"My father was full-blooded, but my mother was a half-daemon like yourself. Because of that, it's not something anyone would be able to know unless they tested my blood for it, but still enough to where many daemons would shun me if they knew. So, when my horns and eyes turned black on my thirteenth birthday, I was shocked to say the least. The thought of being a member of the Black Guard had never once crossed my mind due to my lineage, so I was certain a mistake had been made. Why would the maetha choose me? Someone the daemons considered impure? And I was terrified. I knew what it was like in the capital and what they thought of those like me, and I was terrified of what they would do to me if anyone found out." He shifted, pulling his right leg in towards him and wrapped his arms loosely around it. "So, when I discovered I had inherited the guards' illusion ability, I used it to hide the new color my features had taken and prevented myself from being sent away."

You struggled to wrap your head around what he had just revealed to you, barely hearing the words that followed as your brain was too busy repeating the fact Yeosang wasn't fully daemon. More daemon than you were and with enough of their blood running through him to easily pass as one, but none of that changed the fact he was just like you in some ways. Someone who didn't quite fit into the status quo of the world.

"But they found you?" You straightened up, taking in his figure next to you in a whole new light.

"No," he shook his head, "in the end, I went to them on my own accord."

"Why?"

"Out of spite and a broken heart," he huffed, but a hint of a smile once again appeared and the slope of his shoulders relaxed. "There was a girl in my village that I fell in love with when I was around sixteen, making me more motivated than ever to continue keeping my identity hidden. For if I did, I would be able to stay there and live the normal unassuming life I craved. But, you see, she had only ever been stringing me along. She thought I was sweet, but could never see beyond the fact I wasn't fully daemon and thought I was someone beneath her. She craved a life outside that little village, so when someone else came along that she thought could fulfill her needs, she broke things off with me in the cruelest of ways. At the time, it nearly broke me, and I couldn't stand to be there any longer, so I left to fulfill the destiny that I had denied for so long. Any concerns I had previously had before didn't worry me anymore. If I ended up dead because of it, then so be it. I didn't care anymore."

"I'm sorry." It was you who reached out for him this time, resting your hand on top of his as a wave of empathy rolled through you. You may have never had your heart broken before, but you understood exactly what it was like to be rejected and turned away based on something you had no control over.

"I'm not," he shook his head, smile widening as he looked at the hand on top of his own. "If I had stayed where I was, I would have been miserable. At the time, I didn't understand why I was chosen, and perhaps a small part of me still wonders why the maetha chose me of all people, but ever since you showed up in the picture, I think I've finally begun to understand."

"I wish I could say the same." You retracted your hand, pulling it back around your legs as his words brought you back to the reality that surrounded you, reminding you just who it was you had been comforting. "No matter which way I run through things in my head, it just doesn't make any sense. A little over a month ago I was just another half-daemon trying to survive in this crazy world, and now I'm being told I'm the mate of the daemon king and his seven generals. It's just a lot in a small amount of time, and I'm having a hard time processing it all."

You stuck your chin against the top of your knees, looking up once more at the walls that had been your home for the past twenty years. There had been a time when you had yearned to leave them behind, but not like this. Not when your path only led you to another prison. A different city, but with the same walls that had tormented you as a child.

"My whole life I've been seen by nothing more than my status as a half-daemon. It's dictated my entire life, telling me what I can and can't do because of it. And not once has anyone ever taken the time to see what lies beyond it. To see me, the real me. Not the half-daemon y/n. Not the Black Angel with the magical blood. And not your stupid mate. Just me. Just y/n. And lately," you took a deep breath, shaking in the exhale, "I've been wondering if she's even still there."

You hadn't meant to tell him any of that, but the words had fallen out before you could stop them, fueled by his earlier revelation and you could feel his gaze on you as you finished, heavy with unspoken sympathy.

"You mentioned you were here to escort me back to the city, right?" You spoke up before he had a chance to reply, not wanting to hear what his response might have been. "I don't like it, but if I'm left with no choice in the matter, then I do wish to take you up on that offer. I don't have much, but there are a few items I would rather not part with."

"Of course."

If he wanted to push you further on the matter and prod your brain for what exactly you had meant by any of your earlier thoughts, he didn't. Instead, he followed your lead and pushed himself back up to his feet, stretching out the muscles in his back. When the action caused his shirt to lift and reveal the toned surface beneath, you immediately turned your gaze unable to stop the heat that rose up inside you.

What the hell was wrong with you?

It wasn't like you hadn't ever seen a shirtless man before, let alone other more intimate areas. So, maybe, it wasn't in that specific context before, but rather in the numerous injuries you had healed in your lifetime, but never once had you felt that rush through you before and you only hoped it hadn't leaked through the bond. The last thing you needed was for them to realize a part of you was physically attracted to them and use that to their advantage. You didn't think you could survive if they did.

"Just give me a second to get the barrier down." If Yeosang noticed, he did a hell of a job hiding it, rolling out his shoulders once more before turning to the barrier behind you.

"This was you?"

He shook his head. "No, the barriers are all San's doing."

"It's his daemon ability?" you asked, head tilting as your hand brushed against the invisible wall.

It seemed so obvious now that you knew, the feel of it beneath your skin strangely familiar to the daemon you had danced with so many nights ago. The energy in which it thrummed feeling distinctly of him, and the only explanation you had for the strange phenomena was the bond that now tied you to him-

- Maybe that was also the explanation for the way you had reacted to Yeosang earlier and the reason your heart was still beating just a smidge too fast. Yes, that had to be it. Why else would you have felt that way?

"How does he maintain it? It's been up for days." And you would know, having snuck off more than once the past few days for no other purpose than to see if it was still there or not.

"Barriers of this scale and complexity require the use of his blood to create and maintain, but if you're still curious about it, you should ask him. He could explain it all better than I would be able to and says he would be more than happy to give you a demonstration as well."

"He says?" You looked back at Yeosang as your hand dropped back down to your side. "You're talking with him right now? How?"

"Through the bond," he replied. "It ultimately stems from Hongjoong's ability to speak with us at any distance, though the bond limits the rest of us to a certain distance. With a little training, though, not only can you learn to control those thoughts, but you can also learn to direct them to certain individuals instead of everyone within distance."

"Is that all it does? Just sort of link everyone's mind together?"

"No, it affects each of us in different ways, and some more than others."

With the barrier now down, Yeosang motioned for you to follow him. You paused for a second, tentatively reaching out with your hand and half-expecting him to be lying to you. But your hand wasn't stopped this time and merely slipped through the air. Whatever barrier had held you back the past few days was finally down.

"Take Seonghwa for example. His ability only allows him to teleport to places within a certain radius around him, but the bond gave him the ability to also teleport directly to anyone else he's attached to, no matter the distance," he continued, guiding you in the direction of the city's gate. "That's why it was so devastating when it was him who had been injured in Binna. If it had been any of the rest of us, Seonghwa could have gotten them back to the rest of us, but it just had to be him. And by the time we realized just how severe it was, he had already lost too much blood. If he had tried to teleport to one of us, he likely would have died. Our only chance of saving him was keeping him there on the off chance you would show up. And you did." He looked back at you, gaze softening. "I know things have been rough for you since that night and things might have happened in ways they shouldn't have, but if you only knew what it had been like for us. To not only have Seonghwa alive and safe, but to have finally found you. It was... overwhelming to say the least. Enough so, that even Mingi lost his grip on his mind for a moment."

"And now that you've found me," your arms wrapped around your body, finding it hard to control the shiver his words elicited, "what do you plan on doing with me?"

It had been a question that had plagued you since your emotions had finally settled down and you had regained a grip on your mind once more. In your initial panic, you had left Hongjoong as quickly as you could, needing time and space to process the overload of information he had just dumped on you. And it was only once you had calmed down that you realized the amount of question you had for him now that you were thinking logically once more. He had claimed you were their mate, but he had never gotten around to stating what it was they intended to do with you because of it. Did they plan on accepting you and forcing you to play the dutiful mate? Or did they plan on rejecting you for something as trivial as your mixed blood?

Hongjoong's words and actions from that night had all but confirmed acceptance, and the others' only then served to reaffirm this thought. But you felt no relief from it, instead you wished the opposite would have been true. It might have hurt to have been rejected, knowing full well it had only been because of your lineage, but it wasn't anything you hadn't been through before. It wasn't anything you couldn't have handled.

It would have hurt, yes. You may have faced enough rejection over your lifetime to have become used to it, but that didn't mean it still wouldn't have stung in some ways. But it would have made sense. He was the daemon king and you were just a halfbreed. Just a mutt. Your father might have been someone of a higher class, but you weren't. And you never would be.

That was why you were so confused as to why each of them seemed so intent on accepting it. How each of them thought it was normal for someone of their status to be with someone of yours just didn't make any sense. Not when you were someone history had dictated would never belong in their world, and just because they seemed fine with it didn't mean the others would. You hadn't been around many daemons in your life, but you knew the reaction it would pull. You knew they would never accept you as one of them. Because you weren't. The sooner they came to realize this small fact, the better.

"Well, you are our mate," Yeosang replied, and you were unable to control the shiver his words brought this time. "We were hoping you would accept it. Accept us."

"And what if I don't? What if I say I don't want any of this? That I don't want any of you?" It was hard to speak, throat tightening on you as the inevitable hit you once more. "Would you accept my refusal and let me be?"

Your answer was in the silence which followed your question. The length it took him to come up with a suitable reply all but telling you what you had already known to be true. That there was no way out of this. It didn't matter what you wanted. It didn't matter what you thought. They had decided your fate when they had bonded you to them. The only choice you had in the matter was whether to try and fight it or just give in and accept it.

"Is that what you want?" Yeosang did his best to keep his response level, but you heard the way his voice still wobbled, hinting at the emotions that wavered treacherously beneath his carefully calculated expression.

"I don't know," you sighed, "but it would be nice to be given a choice. To have time to process everything and come to my own conclusion without you all butting in and deciding it for me."

"And if we had, would you have accepted us then?"

This time it was your silence that answered his question. The uncertainty of the situation making you pause for a second as he turned the table towards you. If things had been different, and it hadn't been forced on you in the manner it had, you honestly didn't know how you would have responded, but you had an inkling it would have been similar to how it was now. While you harbored strong frustrations towards each of them for taking your choice away from you, that wasn't why you were so hesitant over it all. That wasn't why you were so terrified at the prospect of being their mate.

If you were able to put your insecurities and frustrations aside, you thought things might have been different. There was no mistaking the physical attraction you felt towards each of them, the earlier incident evidence of that, nor the inward pull that had you yearning to get in close and stop avoiding them. Whether this was because of the bond that Hongjoong had put in place, the fact you were mates, or something else, you weren't sure. After all, you had felt some sort of connection to Seonghwa before the bond had taken hold, left in awe of the man before you.

You still remembered the strange pit that had formed in your stomach when he had drank of your blood. Of all the times you had proffered it to heal another, it had never felt like such an intimate act as it had that night. At the time you had just assumed it was your nerves, terrified of the man in front of you, but what if it had been something more?

And though you didn't know them, not yet, at least, the attentiveness and kindness each of them had shown you during your time with them had been nice. You would never admit it out loud, but you had enjoyed that time with them more than you ever had with the humans. Having plenty of time to rest and recharge, being treated as a normal person, it was more than anyone had ever given you before. Never in your life had anyone ever treated you in such a way before. To have looked beyond your slit eyes or the lack of horns on your head and treated you kindly. It would have been the best week in your life if it hadn't been for the fact your life had hung in the balance.

And yet, there had been a reason they had chosen to look past what others had been unable to. They hadn't seen you as either daemon or human, but they hadn't seen you for who you truly were either. No, they had simply seen you as their mate and then treated you accordingly. And that singular fact hurt more than it would have if the opposite had been true. If they had simply treated you as the halfbreed you were.

"I'm aware that all of this is probably normal for you, that finding out your someone's mate is a more joyous occasion, but nothing about this is normal for me. It's foreign, confusing, and more than a little overwhelming. Having and finding your mate might simply be a way of life for you, but it's not the way I grew up where who we end up with is a choice rather than something decided by fate. And though it might be a bit different for you than most daemons, Hongjoong has known about me my entire life and has had two decades to think things over and make a decision. And I didn't get any of that. I had it forced upon me before I even knew what was happening, so forgive me, pleasse," you took a deep breath, hands clenching at your sides and causing the nails to dig into your skin, "if I seem to have some reservations about it all."

"Which are perfectly valid, however hard they might be to hear." As you neared the city's entrance, Yeosang reached out to you, pulling you to a stop next to him so that he had your full attention. "And though it may be wrong of me to ask this of you after everything that's happened, could you at least give us a try? Things may have started off badly, but is there nothing we can do to redeem ourselves? If it's time you need, we can give you that. All we ask, all I ask, is that you give us another chance before throwing it all away. Please, angel, I'm begging you."

The desperation in his voice caught you off guard. The way his eyes pleaded with you in that moment made your stomach twist and you were unable to hold his gaze for more than a few seconds as the feeling of vulnerability hit you once more. Here was one of the Seven, one of the most powerful beings in your world, all but begging for your forgiveness for the wrong he had done you.

You didn't know what scared you the most in that moment. The raw emotion buried within his words, the way he was looking at you as though you were the only thing that mattered, or the fact it was working.

You didn't want it too, still hurt and bitter about what they had done to you, but goddammit, he was right. As someone who had grown up helping others, you had grown up believing that everyone deserved a second chance at life, no matter what they had done. It was why you had been so willing to save the injured daemons. It was why you had been willing to save Seonghwa. Because who were you to decide whether or not they died? People made mistakes all the time and these mistakes were bound to hurt others, especially the ones closest to them. So, who were you to deny them that second chance when they seemed more than willing to change? When they were all but begging for you to let them redeem themselves?

"You said you can give me more time," you spoke slowly, trying to keep your own emotions under control. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

Yeosang straightened up, the grip in which he held you with tightening at the hopeful prospect your response elicited. "In whatever way you needed. We would ask that you still come with us to ensure your own safety and wellbeing, but we won't rush you into anything that you're not comfortable with. We can do things on your time if that's what you so wish."

"My time," you echoed his words, letting the implication of them hit. It wasn't ideal. Not since you had been forced into this whole ordeal to begin with, but it did offer you some small comfort knowing that the way things could and would proceed from here on out could be done at a pace and way you were comfortable with. "And all of you would be okay with that?"

"Of course. Anything you may need or want, we'll do. All you have to do is ask."

None of it truly changed what would happen, and you were fully aware that despite how you felt, you would still be going with them. It all just boiled down to whether you would go willingly or by force.

And yet, there was still some relief in knowing you now had time. You may have very well been in the same position you were before, having no real say in whether you got to stay or go, but there was some ease of mind knowing you could do things on your time, that you had some time to sort through your thoughts and feelings and not be forced into anything else you weren't comfortable with. There was peace in knowing you had some of the power in your hands, in knowing you still had some control over how exactly your fate would play out. It wasn't much, but it was more than you had before.

"Okay," you took another breath, doing your best to stop the blush that was creeping up the back of your neck at his words. You knew he didn't mean they would do absolutely anything for you, not if it meant losing you, but it still made your stomach flop. "I'll think about it."

~

Do you need something?

You jumped at the voice that rang out in your head, breaking the inner monologue you had been mulling over for the past twenty minutes in your attempt to decide whether it was a good time to approach him or not. Looking up, you saw Hongjoong had stopped sparring for the moment to talk with a daemon soldier, but his gaze had turned in your direction, brow raised as he awaited your response.

Can we talk?

To your surprise, he nodded. You hadn't known what exactly you were doing when it came to talking to him through the bond, but it seemed as though whatever you had done had worked and gotten through to him.

You had little time to celebrate your accomplishment, quickly noting the way he grabbed a nearby towel and wrapped up his conversation with the lesser daemon before making his way over. After talking with Yeosang the day before, you had spent the majority of that day and night thinking over everything he had said and what it had meant for you. And the more you pondered over it, the more you came to realize what your next step would have to be. Talking with Yeosang could only do so much. If you truly wanted to hash out what was to happen with you now and set the boundaries you wished to set, you were left with no choice but to speak with all of them. But first, you needed to clear a few things up with Hongjoong.

It had taken you nearly an hour to gather the courage to go through with it once you realized it was the next reasonable step for you to take, and then another once you had narrowed down his location in the camp. When you had seen what he was up to, you very nearly retreated then and there, especially since Wooyoung, San, and Jongho had also been there. This wasn't the first time you had found them here, often catching sight of one or two out in the fields on your way to some corner of the camp. And though you often diverted your eyes and hurried along, that hadn't stopped you from sneaking a few peaks as you did, especially today.

You had retreated to a nearby tree, doing your best to shroud your body in shadows as you attempted to wait him out before fully giving up. And though your eyes had done their best to focus on the sketchbook in hand, it hadn't stopped them from peaking over the cover every so often. You had told yourself it was to check and see if Hongjoong was free yet, but the excuse never covered the way your eyes lingered for a few extra seconds before returning to your lap.

You knew they were skilled, but it was still something else seeing them in action. Even if they weren't using their full potential against each other, it was still clear to you why none of them had ever been stopped before. Your eyes had struggled to keep up with their movements, not just from the speed in which they moved, but the way their muscles had rippled, eliciting a very similar feeling to the one with Yeosang before.

"C'mon, why don't we go somewhere a little more private?"

You jumped once more at his approach, quickly shutting the sketchbook in your lap and hoping he didn't take notice of the fact it was him who you had been drawing. Only once it was safely tucked away did you take the hand he extended towards you and allowed him to help pull you to your feet.

You struggled to get a read on him, taking quick note of the distance he had put between the two of you since the last time you had talked. He was guarded, more so than he had been the last time, and you were quickly reminded of the way things had ended between you. Of the last words you had said to him. And though they had been the truth, you still began to regret them in that moment, fully aware of the way they had cut him and how you would have never dared to say it if it hadn't been for your own heightened emotions.

"I'm sorry if anything I said or did that night hurt you," you started once he had led you back to the place where it had begun between you. "It's just, everything happened so fast and nothing you said or did could have prepared me for what you said and I panicked."

"You have no reason to apologize. You were right in what you had said. I never should have bonded you to us then. Not without your consent, and in doing so, I had hurt you." He leaned against the table that took up the center of the room, looking everywhere but at you. "It was just so overwhelming finally seeing you after all that time that I didn't think. I was terrified of losing you, and after everything I had been through to finally get to this point, I acted on impulse to make sure I never would. It might not feel this way from your view, but I did it for you. Everything I did was for you. To ensure your safety. To ensure your happiness. And yet, I've already failed."

You sunk down on the edge of the bed, the effect his words had on you making you unstable. The intimacy in his tone making you all the more uncomfortable, even more so since it was coming from him. Even with all the time you had spent processing everything, to not only be in his presence, but at the end of his concern, was still so strange. You weren't used to this type of attention, this care and concern they all seemed to shower onto you, and it only added to the insecurities that had plagued you since he had revealed you were their mate.

"What you did wasn't right, and I'm still struggling with my frustrations towards you all for it, but after talking with Yeosang and thinking over some things myself, I think I might be willing to give this all a chance, but," you raised your hand before he had a chance to respond, "I still need to clarify a few things with you and the others first. And then, if I'm comfortable with the answers you give me, maybe we can work something out. Or at least make me more willing to go with you."

"Of course. Please, ask away."

He did his best to contain the reaction your response gave, but you still felt a shiver of excitement roll through you in that instance. And though you didn't know exactly how you knew it, you were fully aware that emotion hadn't been your own, but the man's next to you. His emotions momentarily leaking into you through the bond that linked you.

"In a minute." You shook your head. "Not only do I think that it would be best if everyone was present for them so I can hear from you altogether, but there's still something I need to discuss with you before we can move on to that."

"Your father," Hongjoong answered for you. "Yes, Yeosang said you would probably come asking about it."

"I need to know what happened. If he was innocent, and someone else is to blame for my mother's death," your breath shook, the thought of finally discovering what had gone down that night was nearly overwhelming, "I think I deserve to know."

"I'll tell you, but," he lifted a finger to stop the rebuttal that began to claw its way out of your throat at but, "it won't be easy to hear. And I don't doubt you'll wish to be alone once the story has been told in full. If you wish to talk to us about making things work, I doubt you'll feel much like talking once we're done here."

You took a deep breath, the ominous message behind his words making you shiver. Yeosang had said things were more complicated than they seemed from the surface, but both had hinted at the truth being hard to hear. And why was that? Because they had allowed the thought of your father actually being a good man to bloom? And to hear he had still snapped and killed your mother would only serve to make it worse for you than it had been before?

"Then I guess you'll just have to wait." You set your face and nodded your confirmation. Hard to hear or not, this was something you still needed to know. Especially if the rest of them had also played a role in it all.

"My father was not a kind man, and he did many terrible things during his reign as king. He craved the power his position held and did everything he could to gain more, no matter the cost. He loathed the fact that I was stronger than him, that I could take everything away from him if I so wished, so he did everything in his power to ensure I kept my place beneath him." His words mirrored a similar sentiment Yeosang had held towards the the former king and you were quick to notice how they elicited a similar response from him. "And as time went on and the daemons became less happy with his rule, his paranoia became increasingly worse and only served to add to the cruelty he showed them. It was clear that someone needed to put a stop to it, and that I was one of the only daemons who was able to stop him, but I didn't know how. I was stronger, but he knew my weaknesses and played them to his strengths. He knew how close I was with my own guard and had no shame in exploiting it. He may have been no match for me, but my guard was not and they were the ones who suffered whenever I stepped out of line."

"He hurt them?"

It was just as much a statement for yourself to process just exactly he was hinting at as it was a question to him, absolutely appalled. When Yeosang had mentioned the previous king had been cruel, you had expected a cruelty akin to the rumors you had grown up hearing about daemons as a whole. You hadn't expected to hear of a man who was so jealous of his own son and the power he held, that he actively hurt others to make sure he did exactly what he wanted him to.

"My father took great pride in the ability he obtained from my grandfather, the one that allowed him to take control of another person's body so long as some of his blood had entered their system. For reasons we never did quite understand, it did not work against me, nor was I able to use it against him, so all I could do was stand and watch as he made them enact his cruelty on them, themselves." Hongjoong shuddered, and despite everything he had done to you, it didn't stop the wave of sympathy that filled you in that moment. "They always insisted it was fine. That it wasn't my fault, but how was it not? If I so much as questioned anything he did or showed the slightest ounce of disobedience, they were the ones who suffered for it."

"But they were right." You stood up from your seat on the bed, cautiously approaching him and placing your hand against the one he had braced against the table behind him. "It wasn't your fault. That blame lies on your father. Not you. And no matter what he might have said to convince you otherwise, he's wrong."

"Thank you." He seemed surprised by your presence, but he didn't push you away. Instead, he only leaned further into you, shifting his body closer towards yours. "That means a lot coming from you, even if I don't quite believe or deserve it. But, you didn't come to me to hear about my past, but what happened to your father." He paused for a second, taking a deep breath before continuing. "You see, your father may have been one of the king's guards, but he hated the man he had become. He refused to stand by and allow the cruelty to continue, so one day he approached me when my father was out of town. He told me what he had been thinking and proposed a plan to assassinate my father. It was a good plan if done perfectly, one where no one would end of being killed, but before we could follow through with it, it fell through. Despite the precautions we had put in place, my father still somehow received word of something going on. And I swear, if it wasn't for your father or Seoyun, all of us would have probably died that night."

You shook at the wave of fear that coursed through you in that moment, tightening your hold on his hand as you blinked back the tears his sorrow caused. The pain and anguish that filled him was nearly overwhelming, and it was only a fraction of what he had felt that night.

"Angel, I'm so sorry." His frown increased when he looked up to see the tears that lined your eyes, suddenly aware that he had slipped and allowed his emotions to flow over into you. "I didn't-"

"It's okay." You shook your head, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze to tell him it was fine. "I don't mind. I mean, can I really complain after the hell I've probably caused you to go through because I can't control mine yet? You don't have to worry about keeping them locked away, at least not for my sake."

He nodded, though you still felt the emotions pull back from you in the moments that followed. "Seoyun was able to settle his rage before anything got too out of hand, and to ensure something like this never happened again, he sent Minsu away to the humans. And for the next fifteen years, I didn't dare step another foot out of line; at least not until you suddenly appeared in my life."

"This Seoyun you mentioned, who is she?"

"A... childhood friend and someone who's saved our lives more times than I can count. You see, she's one of the daemons who have seemed to slip through the cracks of the spell and was born with a unique ability. Without her ability to influence others' emotions, we never would have been able to quell my father's rage when he got worked up."

You nodded, wondering why he had paused in mentioning his relation to this woman and if it meant what you thought it meant. You didn't care. Really you didn't. You knew Hongjoong was your mate, but that didn't mean that you wanted him in that way. At least not yet. And if he had past relations with other women, you didn't care.

"But, like I said," Hongjoong continued, pulling your thoughts from Seoyun and what might have occurred between the two of them before, "your father was sent to observe the humans and I didn't dare to try anything else until my first vision of you appeared. Even to this day, I can still see it clearly. Of Minsu's face staring down at you as though you were the most precious thing in the world. If the shock of you finally being born wasn't enough, it was knowing you were Minsu's daughter. And unfortunately for all of us, I wasn't able to hide my emotions well enough and it wasn't long before my father found out."

"He killed them, didn't he?"

You had known it was coming, but it did little to lighten the weight of it as the realization sunk in. You had never known either of your parents; at least not long enough for you to count knowing them, but knowing the truth still hurt because it changed everything. You had had your suspicions over the years through Soomin, but knowing that he had truly loved her, had truly loved you, sent you reeling.

"We tried to stop him. Once I recieved word he was traveling to Maehwa, Yeosang and I raced after him, but we were too late to save your mother. Fortunately, Minsu had some warning, as you and your siblings were gone by the time my father arrived. And to ensure he didn't spend the next weeks hunting you three down, Yeosang used his ability to fake your deaths."

You were silent, fighting the wave of emotions that soared through you. Hongjoong had been right when he said the truth would be hard to hear, but not in the way you had expected. Hearing your father was actually a monster would have been easy to hear compared to this. Compared to the knowledge his and your mother's deaths were all because of you.

"No," Hongjoong shook his head, hearing the direction your thoughts had taken. The hand under yours slipped out, reaching for your chin and forcing you to look up at him. "It wasn't your fault. If anyone's to blame, it's me. If I had done a better job at hiding it, he never would have found out and your parents would have never died. It's my fault, angel. Not yours. It's my fault for not standing up to my father when I should have. So if you have to put the blame somewhere, put it on me."

It was strange; mourning people you had never even known. Mourning a life that had never been yours and yet, could have if things had only played out a little different. For years, you had kept everything bottled up inside, hiding the pain behind a mask of anger. And now that the anger was gone, there was nothing to stop the sorrow that had built up all those years.

You're a lot like him, you know, Yeosang had said. He would have absolutely adored you.

At the time you had hated those words, hated him for comparing yourself to your father, but now, now they sent a wave of warmth flowing through you.

"I won't lie, a part of me wants to, but I can't and I won't." You closed your eyes, understanding now why Hongjoong had warned you about hearing the truth and why Yeosang had insisted it was him you hear it from. "Because it's not true. It's not right. Your father's sins are not your own and he's the only one we have the right to blame here, however hard it may be."

"Angel." The word was nothing more than a breath and before you knew what was happening, he had pulled you flush against him and into a tight embrace.

You tensed, fully aware of just who was holding you as though his very life depended on it. But at the soft, mumbling "Thank you," that followed, you allowed yourself to slowly sink into his touch, wrapping your own arms around him. After everything the both of you had gone through to get to this point right here, this was something you both needed.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have." Hongjoong was the first to pull back, stepping fully away. "Do you wish to be alone?"

"No," you shook your head, "You may stay if you wish. I... I might have more questions for you in a moment."

"Of course," he nodded, "whatever you need."

He guided you to back to the bed and you sank down along the edge with little resistance, giving your legs some much needed rest before they collapsed on you. He sat down beside you, far enough away that you had enough space to be comfortable, but close enough to know he was there if you were to need anything.

"You came after me. You could have just left me and the others to die, but you didn't. Why?"

"Because you were my mate. I would have done anything and everything to keep you safe."

“But I was a halfbreed.”

"Perhaps when I was younger I might have cared. I'm not proud to say that I viewed half-daemons differently then and I could blame it on the way I was raised and the community I grew up in, but I should have known better. I should have known that one's lineage or blood had nothing to do on their character." He took a deep breath, carefully gauging your reaction out of the corner of his eyes. "It was your father who helped to change my view, as well as other members of my guard who had spent their first few years of life differently than I. So, when it came to be known that Yeosang wasn't fully daemon, I realized everything my father had told me was wrong. They weren't a pest or scourge so many daemons liked to claim. They weren't any less than those pure of blood. For how could they, when one of them had helped to save myself and the other guard members from my father's wrath so may times?

"And never once did I ever think negatively of you for your lineage. In fact, I cherished it. Because I knew through you, change might finally come."

"I think," you spoke after a few moments of silence, "I think I'd like to have that talk with you and the others now."

"Are you sure, angel? You don't have to, we can-"

"No, I'm sure." You nodded. "Knowing the truth of what happened to my father might have been difficult to hear and it might be a while before I can fully take in what happened, but there is also great relief in it as well. I'll now mourn for them and the life that could have been, but knowing that my father was innocent has lifted a weight on my shoulders I didn't even know was there. And for the first time in my life, I'm... I'm proud to say he was my father." Tears pricked at your eyes, the weight that was lifted at admitting those words causing another wave of emotions to course through you. "And after everything you've just told me, about him and the others, there are other questions I wish to ask, but feel as though it would be better if everyone was here."

"If that is what you wish, then I will call them."

"Thank you," you replied, doing your best to wipe the last of the tears away and to straighten yourself up before the others arrived.

At no surprise to you, Seonghwa was the first to arrive, teleporting next to you mere seconds after Hongjoong had informed you they were on their way. You had expected him to pull such a move, wanting to beat the others to you, but you still jumped when he suddenly appeared beside you.

Mingi and Yunho were next to arrive, whispering between themselves as they entered the tent. Their words fell away when they saw you sitting in between Hongjoong and Seonghwa on the bed, and they each sent a reassuring smile in your direction alongside their greeting.

San, Wooyoung, and Jongho followed closely after, the dust scattered across their clothes and the hair that clung to the back of their necks and face showing they must have continued sparring throughout your conversation with Hongjoong.

The last to arrive was Yeosang, and his appearance quickly brought back everything Hongjoong had said about him. How he had saved your life when he used his ability to make the former king believe you to already be dead and how he had also used it to save the others from him as well.

Just what had they gone through before? Hongjoong mentioned no specifics when it came to the way his father had punished each of them, but the pain you had felt through Hongjoong was all you needed to know. The suffering they had gone through at his hands was something you could never fully understand, but it didn't stop the burst of sympathy that came through you or the sudden urge you had to comfort them. To tell you how sorry you were for the pain they had endured and how you wished you could have been there to ease it.

But that would have to wait. Now was not the time nor place for it, and if you wanted to get to that place, you would need to secure your footing with them now. You couldn't afford to let yourself get pulled into their lives when you were still wondering just what your place with them was.

"I called you all here because I've done quite a bit of thinking these past few days," you began, eyes trained at the hands fiddling in your lap, "and despite things starting off rather badly, after talking with Yeosang and Hongjoong, I think I might just be willing to give this whole thing a try. To give you all a try, but I do have some final questions for all of you before I make my final decision. The first being what exactly would it look like if I were to accept?"

"I should think it would be obvious," Hongjoong began when the responsibility of the answer fell on him. "You are my mate, and through the bond that now binds us all, you are also theirs. Each of us are in agreement to treat you as such. You'll be taken care of, given anything you may require or desire, and when the proper time comes, you'll become queen."

"And you're all okay with that?" Your voice shook, unable to ignore the fact Hongjoong had just explicitly stated he had full intention of making you his queen when the time came. But you pushed it aside for the moment, choosing to focus on the more important topic at the moment; the one that your fate balanced upon. "This whole sharing a mate thing, I mean. You're all okay with it?"

"It was a bit strange at first, sure," Mingi was the one to respond first, beating Hongjoong. "I don't think any of us were expecting it to happen when Hongjoong was crowned and the bond reached its full strength, but you have to understand the bond between mates is unlike anything else, and many consider it to be the most sacred aspects of the maetha inside us. As someone who had never experienced this feeling until a few years ago, I'll be the first to attest that it's not something you can just easily push aside. And the additional bond that ties us all together only further intensifies those feelings."

"It's not very often mates end up rejecting one another, and there's good reason for it," Yunho continued. "You might not feel it quite as strongly as us due to your human side, but I'm sure even you can feel it to some extent, especially with our other bond. A yearning that starts in the pit of your stomach, growing stronger with each passing moment you spend together and subconsciously pulling you in closer, filling you with a desire that becomes harder and harder to ignore. And then that terrible aching in your chest when you're apart from each other, growing worse the longer you're away. Not enough to kill you, but enough to drive you to near insanity."

"It's why the Black Guard are born without mates." Seonghwa added at your side, and you were quick to note the truth behind Yunho's earlier words. At some point in the conversation, Seonghwa had placed his hand down on the bed behind you and you found yourself slowly leaning back into it, nearly closing the gap between you. "To neglect them of a bond that powerful would be torture and they would never be able to fulfill their roles and put the king before any and everyone else. Hongjoong knew this, so when we discovered what had happened when we each saw the vision of you on your eighteenth birthday, he wasted little time in deciding what would happen and that we would all just share you."

"It might be strange, but we've almost spent a century together at this point. Our entire lives have been spent leaning and trusting on one another. The idea that we would now all share a mate felt more natural than any of us had expected. And as someone who's always yearned to experience a relationship such as this, it was like a dream come true." Jongho's face tinted pink at his confession, and the sincerity in which he looked at you in that moment almost caused you to blush.

It was the very same sincerity that traced each of their features, all but ensuring each of them were speaking the truth. As crazy as it was to you, none of them seemed bothered by the fact they would be sharing you, nor show any trace of jealousy, at least at the moment. Not even Hongjoong, who made no motion to rebuke any of the their statements, caring more about them and their own wellbeing than being upset by the fact he would be sharing his mate with each of them.

"I'll admit you've each put up a pretty convincing argument," you began after a few moments of silence, "but you're all skipping over a rather important piece of information, especially if you're convinced of treating me the way you claim you will. How are the other daemons going to respond to this? This bond between us and your history with my kind might have made it easier for each of you to accept me, but what about the others? What will you do when my presence causes an uproar? Because believe me, it will."

“If anyone were to speak ill of you or attempt to harm you in any way, they’ll be dealt with accordingly-”

"In which case you don't mean murdering them, right?" You quirked a brow over at San, knowing exactly what the hand of justice looked like to the daemons. Hongjoong might have not been his father, but his past actions had shown he was just as willing to kill for the right reason. "You can't just go around killing anyone and everyone who has wronged me in some way. Not only is that a terrible way to foster a better relationship between daemons and my kind, but it makes me feel terrible," you continued, stopping him or anyone else who tried to rebuke your sentiments. "And besides, if you did, then just about everyone in this world would be dead, including each of you."

"You make a valid point, but," Mingi responded, elbowing San in the side to get him to shut up before he said anything else that might have upset you further, "if anyone dared to threaten your life or safety, none of us can guarantee that we would be able to reign in our wrath the way you might want us to. We're not quite as merciful as you are, angel."

"Not that anyone would ever be able to make it that far though," Wooyoung piped up. "None of us would ever let anything happen to you. Your safety and happiness are our top priority."

"Perhaps there may be times when death is unavoidable, but I hope you would only act on it if my life was actually in danger and there was no other choice. Otherwise, I would prefer not only for you to not kill them, but to let me deal with it on my own. I may not be very capable in a fight, but I can handle a few nasty words thrown my way. I've had my whole life to practice, after all," you sighed, already fully aware of the chaos your presence was going to cause and wondering what the hell you were thinking to consider willingly subjecting yourself to it.

"Which leads me to another important note. If this is going to work, you're going to let me do things my way and on my own time. I'm still beyond frustrated at you all and the way you forced me into this. And though coming to learn your actions might have been done with a pure intent, that doesn't excuse them or change the fact they still hurt me. For weeks I was left confused and terrified for my life. I thought I was going to die, and then you dump this crazy, fucking mess on me, leaving me even more confused and terrified than I was before." You paused for just a moment, catching your breath. "My whole life I've been told I'm nothing and that I'll amount to nothing. I've been called any and all the names for a person of my status and have been rejected because of it more times than I can count. And sure, you learn to ignore it after a while, otherwise you'll drive yourself insane, but that doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt. Each and every insult and rejection slowly chipping away at me." You pulled your knees up to your chest, burying your chin in between them. "And when everyone around you holds that same sentiment towards you, it only takes so long for it to start creeping in. You can only tell yourself it's not true for so long before you start to fall for their lies. Before you start to believe it yourself. So when you tell me something completely different than what I've been led to believe my entire life, it's... hard. And it hurts. It hurts because..."

I know if I wasn’t your mate, none of you would have made a passing glance in my direction. 

You didn't dare voice it out loud, not quite ready to bare yourself that much to them, but at the way Seonghwa's arm tensed behind you, you knew you had just done it again and each one of them had heard the words that had just rang through your head.

"And believe me when I say I don't blame you for it. After all, why would you?" Your words were soft, muffled against your legs as you sunk further into yourself. "I mean, you're the fucking daemon king and his seven generals; the most powerful men in this part of the world. And I'm what? Just someone who was lucky to be born. So why would any of you have ever given me a passing thought if it wasn't for the fate that now ties us altogether?"

"Angel-"

"No," you shook your head, cutting Yunho off. "I didn't tell you any of that to gain your sympathy or pity, so please don't give it to me. It'll only make things worse for me. I only wish for you to understand why I reacted in the way I did. To understand why I hold so many reservations towards it all and why we have to do it my way for things to work. Because if we continue down this road you've started, it's not going to end well for any of us."

“Take any and all the time you need, angel,” Wooyoung responded. “We’ll be here waiting whenever you’re ready.”

“Even if it takes years?”

“We’re daemons, remember, pretty?” Seonghwa doesn’t miss a beat beside you. “Once you start nearing a century, a few years is nothing.”

“And what if it was a century?”

“I’ve waited that long already, what’s another one?” Hongjoong returned. “Especially now that I’ve finally found you.”

“If that’s what you believe, then you’re crazy,” you huffed, but a hint of a smile tugged at your lips. “No one is worth that long of a wait.”

“Then I guess we’re all just crazy,” San hummed from across the room. “Because I, for one, think you are more than worth the wait.”

At the murmur of agreement that traversed the room, you found yourself burying your head in your legs once more. No longer from an attempt to comfort yourself, but from the way their words left a blush to bloom across your face. Never in your life had anyone expressed this sort of sentiment towards you, and you struggled to control the way your stomach flipped at the thought. 

And for the first time since you had met them, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe this life wouldn’t be too bad. If maybe the fate that had tied you to them wasn’t the end of the world. That maybe, just maybe, a part of you was almost happy to be their mate. 

~

a/n: taglists will now be in a reblog :) thanks for all your love and support

[botanicallyinclinednerd]

The Umbrella Academy season 2 episode 2

Oh I KNEW I hadn't seen the last of her

I don't trust death or seemingly fatal injuries on this show to mean I stop seeing a character. I mean, look at Ben. Dude died forever ago and he's still around

Oh hey! It's the fish dude! Doesn't Five murder this Goldfish?

A fish smoking. I- sure, why not

Nah, Herb, that was a good one, you should laugh!

"I took a bullet in the head for this company!" "And we thank you for your service" this is real and hitting me in ways I can't fully articulate.

This lady is just trying to be nice! She was the same with Five, and both he and the Handler are so mean to her!

Luther DOES have a point, Five IS always saying that

Lutherrrr

Five is saying that HE needs you, you dumb ass

Is that Carl? Thank you subtitles

"Dad should've left him on the moon" LOL

Nah, the sentiment is there even if the words themselves are morbid

Wait I just realized something. In the newspaper article, Diego has s1 length hair. And he said he was in there for 75 days. His hair? Should not be this long

"You know the other window was open, right?" Says the man that jumped through a window instead of just checking to see if the door was locked (it wasnt)

He doesn't know she doesn't have her memories

Does her husband know about her rumor ability?

The fuck is that shit? Cause it's not milk. Is it giving them some weird ability or something? Does it keep them alive?

"Imagine batman, then aim lower" this season keeps making me laugh in delight so far, five is so funny

Five has just decided to trust this guy, seeing him as harmless. I haven't gotten any inclination from him that he's not what he appears, but he could still have a role in the apocalypse because he's not what he was supposed to be in the original time line

I mean, his father is dead. But, yeah, he has issues, no doubt

"Because he's an idiot" "who the hell are you" "Hi, I'm his loving brother" Five is a delight this season so far

Im hitting all these racist fucks with cars in my mind

So many of the sibilings are just soooo close to meeting but they arenttttt

Klaus meeting her husband! I really like Ray so far he seems like a really great guy

Oh Klaus, back them up, fight for them, discover your sister, comeon my guy

Lila fucking painting Elliots toenails while he's bound and gagged, oh my god

Luther, I swear to fucking god if you fuck this up

LUTHER DONT YOU DARE

Luther let's his fucking fear control him and I'm beating him with hammers and frying pans

SHE DOESNT EVEN KNOW WHO SHE IS SHES NOT A FUCKING THREAT YOU FUCK, SHES PLAYING HIDE AND SEEK WITH A NONVERBAL CHILD SHES HELPING TAKE CARE OF, WHAT PART OF THAT SCREAMS "DANGER"

You are right! She shouldn't be the one to apologize! She was manipulated and hurting and she doesn't know who she is and she's your SISTER, who you obviously do still love you fuck, so don't fucking do this

Im confused now. Cause the things he's saying? Good! Excellent! Yes! BUT HE HAS THE GUN AT A MOMENTS NOTICE

...okay imma rewatch this scene now while not thinking the worst of him

...alright so I may have over reacted a bit and I now feel bad about that. In my defense, he had his hand on a cocked gun ready to be fired at her for the majority of that touching little speech, and considering the last time he said gentle things like that to her he choked her out and threw her in a cage, I feel justified in being suspicious as hell

Well these guys are massive freaks

So I had a thought last night: How did Hazel know about the world ending in 10 days? He claimed the agency was gone but clearly it ISNT so what's the truth?

Leave Vanya alone you fucks (them going after her is going to re reawaken her powers isn't it)

Okay, so no, her husband doesn't know

Careful Diego

Okay but is this their shitstain of a father or is it older Five? Alright well that instantly got answered

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

[shy-urban-hobbit]

21 with Lambden from the touch list, i need more Lambert getting hugged from behind, if you want to! <3

This one went a little angstier than I intended!!!

CW for child death.

Lambert placed his last blade in its holster after checking them all over - again. Try as he might, he just couldn't get his brain to stop and he was pretty sure the infernal organ was doing it purely out of spite at this point.

His thoughts just refused to quieten down, running around his head like panicked rabbits and making him extremely irritable. It wasn't the first time - there was a reason he had a reputation for having a rather short fuse - and he was loath to admit that Eskel and Aiden might be right when they said it was because he cared too much. He got angry when one of his experiments failed, angry when his loved ones got threatened or hurt and downright furious on behalf of the little boy he'd been and all those alongside him who were long since dead. Right now they weren't the children at the forefront of his mind though. Everything was revolving around the tiny little thing who had peered up at him from behind her father's legs - her twin sister having been snatched days ago by a bruxa. Her, they'd managed to dispatch no problem, the girl however....she was gone long before they'd arrived, half turned and half mad with it. Aiden had had to be the one to deliver the killing blow after Lambert hesitated a little too long and got a bite to the arm for his trouble. Her father had wept but placed no blame on them, claiming he already knew in his soul what had befallen his daughter after so long, but even false hope had been better than none at all.

He heard the other approach him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and draping his body across Lambert's back as he knelt behind him, "I can hear you overthinking." Aiden said, hooking his chin on Lambert's shoulder.

Lambert gave a mulish hum in response.

"The girl again." Aiden sighed, tightening his grip slightly, "You can't keep torturing yourself with 'what ifs' pup, you haven't rested properly in almost a week. There's nothing we could have done differently."

"We don't know that." Lambert snapped, "Maybe if we hadn't lingered on the road we would have reached the town sooner, if we'd found where that fucking thing was hiding quicker."

"Oh, so Wolf mutagens come with clairvoyance now?" Aiden asked in the no nonsense tone he used when he wanted Lambert to listen rather than actually provide an answer, " We could have done all that and the outcome would still be the same if the bruxa had struck a week, even a day earlier than they did."

"... doesn't it ever bother you?"

"Of course it does, you think I'm not haunted by the ones I couldn't save? I can't do anything to change that, but what I can do is make sure I'm fit and ready for the next one. Something which you are not doing by letting it eat away at you."

Lambert tensed but made no move to try and pull away as Aiden gently grasped his chin, turning his face towards him.

"Lambert, you're going to be no good to the next child you can save, or me, if you go into the fight exhausted. Try and meditate for awhile at least. For them if not for me?"

Lambert threw him an unimpressed look, "Dirty trick, Aiden."

"Is it working?"

It actually was. Now that he'd been given permission he hadn't realised he'd been seeking he felt himself relaxing against the other in increments. He made a small noise of protest and grabbed at one of Aiden's hands when he felt the other shift.

"Not going anywhere, just making us more comfortable."

Lambert let Aiden manhandle him until he was sat between the others spread legs, fully reclined against Aiden's front, who had one arm wrapped around Lambert's chest as he made himself comfortable with his back against the tree Lambert had first situated himself by. He slipped further out of meditation and into true sleep as the sounds of Aiden's breathing and heartbeat - the sounds of Aiden just being alive - coupled with the Cat's free hand cradling his face to run fingers through the hair at his temple caused his thoughts to - for now at least - quieten down one by one.

[cherubchoirs]

out of curiosity, how do you think an encounter between Micheal and Gabriel would go after Micheal's botched fall? not only did Gabriel fall, but he's with a machine? surely that's gonna do a number on Micheal's mental state. (btw, i'm utterly enamoured with your archangels and gabv1el content! seeing you post about them is always a highlight of my day)

i talked about how i think gabriel would react here, so i want to go in a little more on michael's perspective as well as the WHOLE v1 issue. because the thing is....his rallying against gabriel lacks context at first, knowing only that he fell and that, as hell's warden, he is determined to restore full order beginning with gabriel. he is grieved at his loss, he feels wholly responsible for it as he has long feared that gabriel's questioning would lead to his fall, and the only way he can manage that terrible guilt is to see him bond to his proper punishment. just the same way he always handled lucifer. however, the situation becomes much more complicated upon actually meeting with gabriel and fully understanding his fall. as well as meeting v1.

michael, importantly, takes no joy in the work he forces himself to carry out - this is about his repentance, this is about maintaining god's order no matter the consequences, this is about proving that something of saint michael is left in him. he condemns gabriel, he proclaims his own righteousness, yet his voice reflects none of it in spite of how he tries to feel the rapture at carrying out god's will - no, all of his words are flat with a barely concealed grief and anger behind them. he wants detachment from this awful task, to bind gabriel and let him haunt him the way he always has been. yet this is all that can save him, it's the only action he can take in his desperation to not leave such a hideous stain on his own memory. and when gabriel begs to know what's become of him, he offers the simple, automatic response: my light was severed. nothing more needs to be said of his heinous actions.

yet a dam breaks in gabriel at the words, the frozen shock melting away into a furious indignation that demands to know who did this. who stole michael's light, who dared touch the prince of heaven and tear him away from god's people - he vows to find them and rend their heads from their shoulders just as he did the council. that admission resounds in michael's skull - is this why he fell? damned to treachery for the assassination of the council? michael laughs, the first welling of emotion he can't contain. gabriel had done what he would have - in michael's mind, the council was nothing more than a self-selected group of heretics who laid claim to god's throne and his authority. they deserved their deaths, yet he knows no exception can be made because any exception means to stray. gabriel has taken life eternal and michael's adherence to god's law is biblical - a sin is a sin, even if the sinner was right. his whole body cries out against the action as he draws his chains, telling gabriel there is no need. he tore out his own light. and seeing gabriel stricken still again, he rushes in to complete his work and be done with it. he hopes gabriel will make it easy on them both.

but while ice roots gabriel to the floor, v1 enters to fend off michael with a few solid hits that seem to do less than it hoped in deterring him (though it quickly determines the underwhelming response seems to be due to an inability in michael to feel pain) and THIS is when the encounter goes entirely off the rails because michael hadn't really registered v1's presence, let alone that it might be related to gabriel. and before he can reach any conclusion, gabriel snaps back to attention as he calls out to it and the small machine signs back to him, gestures quick, a bit irritated, and unreadable to an outsider. michael would voice his disdain for it, a low alliance that proves gabriel's deterioration, yet i think gabriel would counter it with the truth of what v1 means to him. he is far beyond caring, especially with how disoriented this encounter has already left him - and hearing v1 disparaged incenses him besides (v1 has never understood it, but gabriel is adamant about maintaining its honor).

michael is flooded with relief, the ache in his open chest releasing him as his thoughts narrow into a single objective. this is gabriel's true treachery, to love what wasn't made by god. this is so much easier, this rids him of his guilt at punishing the sin he would have committed himself, extinguishes the pride he felt in gabriel's rebellion against unlawful kings. he is a demon, like any other, and gabriel is dead. he smothers any other emotion before it can drown him, refusing to show anything to the unnatural pair before him - the assault is immediate, singular in focus as the vessel of god's holy wrath and shut down to anything else. gabriel has seen it before, michael's uncanny ability to throw a killswitch in his head and drain himself of any semblance of a personality. even with god dead, it seems he's retained that talent - gabriel had never been on the receiving end of it but thankfully v1's reflexes are as fast as ever and gabriel had always been the only one that was able to talk michael down when he couldn't seem to come back to himself. this feels just off though - gabriel thinks little of the difference given michael's state, but it's obvious he's targeting v1 specifically for dismemberment. if this is what gabriel fell for, it better prove itself worthy.

[miss-celestia13]

Mirrors on the Walls

Jake x MC Smut One Shot

Words: 3.8k

Manon treats Jake to a date night in Colville. But he has the greatest surprise. Their massive hotel bed goes to waste when Jake can’t wait to get her there. Or the one where Jake can use his skills for something fun, and not for work/survival.

Just smut, no plot whatsoever. Explicit and indulgent. Plus, lots of touching, some dirty talk and flirting. Rough, fast and dirty, they have a time limit, you see!

Manon

Manon couldn't make her smile fall as she drove deeper into Colville. Traffic had thinned while they'd been locked in that studio, dancing for what felt like their lives as their instructor judged their every move. They'd picked the song together, wanting to find something that encapsulated how they felt about each other. It had taken weeks to settle. Still, she loved it and the memories it held for them, those beautifully terrifying early days of secret garden gates and words she could only speak while he slept. Jake's confused voice cut through her dreamy thoughts of pretty songs and extraordinary dancing.

"I thought we were going home?"

"We will. Just not tonight. I thought you'd need a drink after going through that for me, so I booked us a night in a fancy hotel with an overpriced bar so we could drink. I can thank you properly for doing the lesson." She turned and winked at him, his soft smile making her heart flutter as she traversed the city streets at a snail's pace.

"You didn't have to, but thank you," He smirked, eyes aglow and simmering slow as she smiled and spied the hotel ahead.

She made sure the lessons were on Fridays so they could spend some time together afterward and escape the constant parade of their kindhearted friends for a night. Manon loved them all dearly, but she was torn in all directions as the party drew near, and she almost missed the days when someone was out for her blood. At least then she could either arrest or kill them, but their sweet friends meant well, and she loved them for it, but she was tired of sharing Jake with them all. Manon parked behind the hotel, Unbuckling her belt, and reaching for her door, but Jake was already opening it and holding out his hand. She took it and let him haul her out.

Tugged into his firm body, she made to step back and grab the bag she packed from the truck, but Jake's hands slid around her and held her captive, claiming her mouth as she looked up. His supple lips pried hers apart, tongue sliding in and owning hers, pushing her against the car to pin her between him and the metal slowly warming to her body behind her. It was sheer bliss, a sweet undoing as her hands curled into the hair at his nape, and he dragged her hips to grind into the hard length hidden under his pants. He kissed her until she was panting, heart, beating like a drum, and heat flashed through her so strongly she whined as he broke away, breathing hard himself and watching her flustered face with a sly eye.

"Thank you for not laughing every time I messed up," He murmured, leaning in to drag his lips across hers and stepping away so suddenly she nearly slid to the ground.

Her heart twisted, knowing how strongly messing up affected him. Screwing up meant his death if he had messed up while on the run and she knew it still ate at him, an instinct he hadn't fully shaken off despite saying goodbye to the past that once made him an outcast. Her voice was delicate as she replied, "Jake, love, I would never laugh at you for trying your best. I fucked it up as well. If anyone does laugh at you, tell me, and I'll make sure their last words are an apology as they bleed out over your feet," She swore with a vehemence that made him chuckle darkly and grab hold of her.

"You're a vicious little thing," He muttered, voice low and deep as he kissed her smirking mouth.

"Only for you, come on, we have a room inside with a huge bed, let's go make it ours," She teased, shimmying in his hold as he groaned and his hands at her hips fell away, she pranced off on weak knees to grab the bag from the trunk. It only contained a change of clothes for the bar and some toiletries; they would be checking out by lunch the next day, and she saw no point in bringing anything more when they could buy it in the city. Jake held the hotel door open for her and took the bag as she passed, her eyes rolling playfully as he played the gentleman and not the cocky lover who destroyed and remade her every time he got his hands on her. There were many facets to Jacob Allwood, and she adored every single one of them.

A bored young man checked them in, slid their room key across the desk, and hurried them away so he could get back to reading the comic Manon spied hiding under his guestbook. Jake took her hand as she took the key, and they were guided to the elevator by a man in a fancy uniform. The hotel was where the wealthy came to play, and she had a sneaking suspicion they would get more than they bargained for tonight. Jake wouldn't let her go and kept her close as he eyed the cameras in the elevator with a keen eye. He pushed the button for their floor, gaze skipping over anything electronic, but she was lost in thoughts of nakedness and alcohol-infused sex.

She was impatient, skin tingling, and sensitive as they came to a stop. The doors opened, and she led Jake out at a march and quickly found their door. Hovering the key over the pad on the door until it clicked, Manon grinned as she shoved it open, and they walked inside. Jake made sure it was locked before following her, finding her staring at the massive bed and plush furnishings. Everything reeked of money, from the furniture to the flooring, and even the view of the city looked like a paid advertisement for Colville as she blinked out at the darkening city. Jake's reflection in the window approached her, arms enveloping her from behind as he kissed her neck and sighed happily.

"I couldn't live here, but it's nice for a night," She whispered, the hushed quiet making her speak softly as Jake rested his chin on her shoulder.

"It's good for getting lost in and remaining hidden, but I hated living amongst so many people. Packed in like sardines, forced to pay a higher cost for the privilege." Jake bemoaned, and her throat thickened. Her lusty mood forgotten at the reminder of how he had to survive to make it to her side and learn to live.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think – we can go home if you -" She tried, twisting in his hold to search his face, but he interrupted, head shaking as she faced him and saw nothing but quiet joy in his lapis eyes.

"No, Manon. There is a difference this time. I'm not alone, afraid, and starving. I'm with you, and I haven't been afraid since." He said so sincerely her silly woman's heart wobbled in its bone cage.

"Let's replace some of those memories with something good," She nodded at him decisively, smiling as she went on, "Get changed, and you can chill while I throw my hair up and get dressed."

He let her go, and she strode to the bed where he dumped their bag and slid the zipper open, taking their clothes out and handing Jake his as she took hers into the bathroom along with her makeup bag. His eyes dilated as he eyed the black shirt and dark jeans she picked out; she knew he wouldn't want anything too fancy or restrictive. They were there for fun, not work. She practically floated as she swiped on some kiss-proof red lipstick, touched up her eyeliner, and lightly powdered any shiny spots caused by dancing and hot lights. Her crown of braids, loose and messy, she wanted Jake's hands up in the pearly strands before night's end, hid the fact she spent the last few hours sweating. She put her dress on last. The pale fabric shimmered like sunlight on snow as she slithered into it, thin straps showing off her scars, and the open back revealed some of the markings on her back.

Any self-consciousness she might've felt slipped away as she left the bathroom and caught Jake on his phone, his gaze drawn to her like she were the sun as he took her in, and the heat in it removed the chill from her pebbled skin as she slid her feet into her heels. He made to touch her as she stood before him, but she danced back.

"Not yet. I want to disgust everyone downstairs. Save it for then," She laughed as he scowled, licking his plump bottom lip as he fiddled with his phone and shoved it in his back pocket as he rose.

"You are a wicked, wicked woman, Manon. You'll pay for that." His threat sounded more like a promise to Manon, and delicious anticipation filtered through her bloodstream. Needing him never seemed to go away, and as they took the elevator downstairs, her heart thudded under her sparkly dress.

The parting of the doors revealed the opulent hotel lobby. Jake helped her out first and took another look at the cameras before she tugged him across the gleaming marble floors and into the low-lit bar. It was just a bar, yet everyone else put on their best impressions of upstanding citizens. Men in suits finer than any jewelry savored short glasses of top-shelf liquor, women wearing five-figure cocktail gowns demurely sipped crystal glasses of golden bubbly liquid, and even the bartender wore a shirt, tie, and vest. They stood out, but neither cared as they snagged a table way off in a shaded corner with plush leather sofas as chairs. She sat down, cold leather on her bare thighs stealing a hiss from her as Jake left to get them drinks.

He came back with a dry martini for her, with three olives and some bourbon for him, as well as a few shots of something bright blue that he split between them.

"Shots? What exactly do you plan to do to me?" She snickered, clinking her tiny shot-glass against his and tossing it back, the cold burn causing her face to twist, and she visibly shivered as Jake chuckled beside her.

"You'll see." He said simply, washing the taste of the shot away with a mouthful of his bourbon.

Conversations continued around them, voices competing with the woman playing piano and singing somewhere ahead of them. They sat, engrossed in each other, barely noticing as their drinks were replenished whenever they ran dry. Date nights were a priority for them, heaven-spun times of pure pleasure and delight, nights they could appreciate their love had become part of the reality they wove together. They acted like lovesick teenagers, hands touching, his branding her thigh and hers snaking anywhere she could reach as alcohol warmed them through and heightened the desire so prevalent between them. Chaste kisses turned into bruising ones, locked in an opaque bubble in that dark corner as everyone else pretended they weren't judging them.

Manon didn't care; she would never see these people again, and they suffered, fought, and bled to be there that night. She wouldn't waste a second worrying about some haughty looks. Jake's caution fell away as he sank his drinks, getting real handsy as she wriggled and giggled as he tickled her inner thighs with teasing touches. Two hours passed, the night in full swing as Jake rose to let her out, and she hurried to the ladies' room, ignoring the curious eyes of a redhead touching up her nude lipstick in the fancy vanity mirrors. She quickly relieved herself, washing and drying her hands as a group of older women burst through the door. She slipped out after them, making a beeline for Jake, who was typing on his phone and grinning, setting it face up on the table as she appeared at his side.

Once she was seated again, she asked, "Everything okay?" She was worried that one of their friends was bothering him because she had turned her phone off.

"Perfect. They’ve finished the last of the paperwork, is all," Jake hedged, not meeting her eye. Still, she didn't get a chance to question him as fresh drinks were brought over, and he resumed feeling her up and whispering dirty things in her ear.

If his goal was to rile her, taunt her until she dropped to her knees and begged, he was a master at work. Fingers touched any bare skin she had on display, lovingly stroking over her scars and his liquor-stained lips, tasting the skin of her neck as she encouraged him, offering more of her throat for his hungry mouth to mark. Her flimsy underwear was soon damp, and heat spiraled through her. A sumptuous weightlessness seeped into her bones, twitching and ready to mount him as she brushed her hand over the front of his jeans to draw a groan from him. It was a test of endurance, she realized, to see who would be the first to call off their farce of a date and skip to the part where he was fucking her against some wall or on the floor, too crazed to make it to their bed. Jake left to go to the bathroom when he finished his bourbon, and she downed the last of her martini, skipping on tottery heels to stand beside the gent's toilet door and wait for him to come out.

As he strode out, eyes searching for her over at their table until she fell into step with him and wound her arm through his, pressing into his side as he jumped and met her eye, head shaking as she directed them out of the bar. He slipped his arm free of hers, slinging it over her shoulder as he pulled out his phone and led her to the elevator. The well-dressed operator hit the button to close the door, and she looked at Jake's screen to see... nothing she understood as they ascended, and he put it away again after tapping a few times. She opened her mouth to ask what was so interesting, but his free arm shot out, palm punching the emergency stop and counting under his breath, "3,2,1.”

The lights went out, she gripped the railing as the lift came to a juddering stop, and the emergency battery-powered lights came on and bathed them in red light. Her heart raced, blood coursing through her veins so fast she was dizzy, and she could feel it in her ears, a thread of nerve-straining anticipation making her hands shake. He turned to her, smirking as he backed her into the mirrored corner.

His knee shoved her legs apart, hands braced on the railing on either side of her hips as he lowered his mouth to whisper on to her parted lips, "We have 10 minutes before they figure out what I've done. I want to hear you scream before the lights come back on. That sound good to you?" He ran his nose down her bared neck, inhaling her skin and tickling her with his long lashes before he lifted his head to hear her answer.

"The cameras?" She asked in a strangled voice, not truly caring as he smiled like a wolf.

"Don't worry about it. They're gone, and I cut their access to the intercom to give us time. I didn't hear a yes, Sweetheart."

Her slickness became a torrent of need at the dark confidence in his voice, body trembling as he stared into her and saw all her filthy thoughts play out live in her gaze. Knowing he planned this since their arrival, Manon shuddered as liquid heat pooled thick and fast between her legs. How in the world did she ever get so lucky? She was cornered, completely at his mercy, and she was wholly at peace with it, rejoiced in it. 

"You are – I don't even know. Yes -" Everything she planned to say disappeared as his mouth crushed to hers, and he lifted her onto the railing, standing between her parted legs as he plundered her mouth.

The last thing she saw before closing her eyes was her legs locking around his waist in the mirror and her hand wrapping around the back of his neck; scarlet light sneaking through her closed lids made it all the more exciting as her heart galloped. Fast and brutal, he wasted no time with foreplay or teasing, fingers tracing the shape of her wet folds through the lace covering her, and growled into her mouth at what he found waiting for him. His hand fell away, tongue playing with hers as he unzipped his jeans, and her blood fizzed, whimpering into his mouth as she imagined him palming his lovely cock. A fire built so hot inside her that sweat beaded her skin, and her essence flooded her underwear, tensions so thick between them she could have reached out and touched it.

Trading her whines for his groans, he possessed her mouth, his hand weaving through her braids and tongue flicking hers; she was panting and frantic before long. His fingers shoved her underwear aside, dipping in her folds, testing her readiness before he replaced his hand with the fat crown of his cock and taunted her with it. She pulled his hair, snarling into their ravenous kiss, and clung to him as he lifted her away from the railing and shoved her against the mirrored wall again. Awkward at first, he lined up with her, sliding in inch by glorious inch, so tight it hurt them both at first as her inner walls contracted. She trembled in his arms as he swallowed down her feral noises, smirking as his beard scraped her skin, and she rolled her hips to ease the pressure, making her feel out of control as he slowly worked her open.

Slow, shallow drags of his thick cock made her soften, essence sliding from her as the pain turned to pleasure so exquisite she couldn't breathe through it. Idly aware of time running away, she moved with him as his thrusts became deep, intense plunges inside her soaked cunt, and he wouldn't let her stop the kiss, wanting to taste every moan she made, she thought. His strength always thrilled her, lifting her effortlessly and fucking her higher up the wall as she opened her eyes to watch in the mirrors as he made her disintegrate. Her hands raked up his back as he snapped into her, wet and taut, dripping and shaking as flame licked through her and pleasure replaced the blood in her veins. The alcohol made everything feel incredible, so riled and ready she knew it wouldn't take much for her to fall.

He broke away from her lips, plunging his cock so deep she keened and clutched his shoulders as her legs were boneless, and she didn't trust they'd keep her upright as he ground into her, her warbling moan making his ruby light-tinged eyes glitter.

"You're close, Manon. I've barely fucked you yet," he smirked, snapping his hips and looking her in the eye as she writhed. Doing it again when she cried out.

Her voice had all the substance of smoke as she whispered, "In my mind, you've been fucking me all night."

His smile was nothing short of salacious as he hefted her up and impaled her on his rigid cock, and he was buried so deeply in her weeping cunt she tossed her head back and screamed. It seemed to please him, repeating the move to utterly destroy her, and make her babble words that made very little sense. 

"I need you to hang on tight; we don't have long," he muttered, his voice heavy with gluttony and pride. He waited for her jerky nod to kiss her again.

Every rough thrust provoked her desire, inflaming her inside and flooding her greedy cunt with essence, inner walls gripping him like she was afraid he'd slip away. Resplendent and gorgeous, his cock taunted her slick flesh as his mouth assaulted hers, it was more like fighting than fucking, and her blood was molten in her veins. Pressure and heat twined through her, coiling so tightly she whimpered as his tongue chased hers, and all she saw was crimson light despite shutting her eyes. It was impossible to watch him claiming her; it made her feel unhinged, and she would crawl through the fires of hell just to feel him make her body his own. Nails cut into his shoulders as he rattled her, cock splitting her in half as she squeezed her thighs around his hips, and the tension inside her drew too tight.

Arousal pulsed in her core, cunt fluttering around his length, cock hitting all the right places as he stretched her, and she rolled her hips to take him deeper. His merciless rhythm was erratic and savage as he felt how close she was, her hand falling between them to find her clit and give the pressure within her somewhere to go. Slippery fingers traced that bundle of nerves, hips rocking in time with his cock as he filled her again and again. Blood rushed to her cunt, cheeks, and chest flaming as she circled her clit, and the fire in her abdomen spread out and under her skin.

She lost all composure as she ignited. Like he struck a match, she went up like kindling, back arching as it overwhelmed her, and Jake smiled into their kiss as her cunt clenched around his cock. Quivering and stealing his air, she came hard and fast, her orgasm so strong even he shook with it as he followed her into bliss. Slamming into her until he was spent, she howled as the seal on her mouth broke, and he bit down on her furious pulse and tattooed her name into the fragile skin with his tongue to soothe the hurt. Her inner walls flickered in time with her pounding heart as stars wheeled across her vision and danced across her sweat-prickled skin. Delirium and drink made her clumsy and her mind devoid of anything but how good she felt.

They stayed like that until Jake breathed something in her ear that had her preening and them scrambling to right themselves and hide what they had been up to.

"Thirty seconds to spare. Good girl, well done."

And he was correct. The lights came on exactly when he said they would, a voice came over the speaker to tell them the fault was now fixed and they could press the button for their floor again, and the elevator slowly climbed to their room. She doubted she could walk, holding onto Jake and the railing as they came to a stop and the doors open. He took one smug look at her and her thighs that she clamped together and swept her up in his arms, carrying her to their room and making her cry his name many, many times before the sun came up.

~*~

Thank you for reading 🥰 I appreciate it and hope you enjoyed it. If you comment or reblog, thank you for that too! This was from chapter two of my Duskwood romantic comedy: Paper Rings & Dirty Dreams

If you’re interested;

My Masterlist of Stories can be found here.

[faithhearted]

@honorhearted {x}

‘The old times’ wasn't an efficient term to fully encapsulate the heavy meaning behind all the memories of childhood to which he’d been referring. Samuel missed the unmatched view of the town from their property, the solace of his father’s church, or the comfort of his embrace. Hell, he could hardly remember anything about his mother but her scent – like honeysuckle, and even in that faint nostalgia, he longed for it.

While his faith hadn't diminished, it was undoubtedly being tested. It was mentally strenuous to always remind himself about God’s promises and Word when he was plagued by the echoing crack of gunfire, the spray of a brother’s blood, the rot of dysentery, and the stale stench of a mixture of sea salt and death. 

When he closed his eyes, he saw the nightmarish image of Selah’s corpse beside him, how he’d watched the light leave his eyes as he'd recited scriptures to soothe his soul’s journey to an eternal place with their Lord and Savior. There had been nothing but the sound of the creaking and groaning bowels of the Jersey to haunt his ears.

All these things caused Samuel to drift into uncomfortable hazes. His skin would prickle as his body trembled with dread and his lungs ached so painfully that he was always certain he would die. 

"Our eyes are on the front of our heads for a reason," Benjamin reminded with the softest tone he could muster, "We need to keep looking forward, Sam -- not behind. No matter how deeply we may wish to."

For but a moment, Benjamin’s touch prompted Samuel to tense, only to relax once his brain was able to determine that he was in no immediate danger.

"What brought this on? Are you that eager for me to whoop your arse in a game of cards, just like 'the old times?'" 

“You always cheated, and you know it.”

It mattered little whether or not that was true anymore. All that mattered now was winning the war. After all, they'd sacrificed, they had to succeed. They just had to. 

"We can't ever go back,” Benjamin added, his expression softer, “But I wish we could –” 

With a weary sigh, he forced a smile. It was good to see Benjamin genuinely grin at something, especially nowadays, so the last thing Samuel wanted was to ruin it. They were soon to witness the hanging of a fellow Patriot soldier who had become a traitor, so it was better to claim victory where he could.

“Remember Job’s story? How despite losing everything, he fell to his knees and worshiped God? ‘The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.’...then later, he was in such agony that he cried ‘I have no peace, no quietness; I have no rest, but only turmoil.’

[hekateinhell]

NSFW prompt: Louis is sucking the tips of Armand's index and ring fingers absent-mindedly.

For the NSFW prompts: Louis/Armand, post-canon, rated M (vampire sex, finger sucking, Armand’s a top—but is he really?)

Armand rarely asks outright for what he wants.

Even in New York, Louis had to rely on his lover's subtle glances—the feel of a cool hand sliding against his and clinging just a bit tighter, a kiss that lingered a fraction of a second longer than usual—to know when something was amiss and required rectifying.

Perhaps Lestat had made a quip that touched on an old wound; it could be that Marius had flown into a temper once more. The possibilities were endless at this circus of a court.

But now they're here, together again, limbs intertwined on the blue satin sheets. Louis's hands on Armand's shoulders, less to brace himself and more so to reassure the other of his presence—to comfort him, as if Armand could not possibly be more aware of him in this moment.

His head buried into the crook of Louis's shoulder, silent except for the soft whimpers and quick breaths that escape him with every forward thrust of his hips into the welcoming body beneath him.

Make no mistake, Armand could be a vocal lover and often was. Yet, whenever he got into this state, he couldn't particularly find the conviction to articulate his need to stake his claim—to remind himself in a language he was fluent in that Louis still loved him, hadn't left him, would always desire him.

"Let me see your face, Armand." Louis keeps his voice as gentle and measured as possible, as though he were an animal tamer speaking to an easily spooked wildcat.

Feels the tremors build in Armand's frame as he shakes his head against his throat and increases his pace; feels his own undoing, his sweet little death, start to build feverishly. Each nerve ending seemingly pulsating and electrified, the passion finally beginning to overtake the more rational side of him.

"Do it for me, mon coeur. I want to see you."

Maybe it's the words themselves—the emphasis on you in the deep, soft-spoken, unassumingly seductive voice that Armand cherishes so much, a voice he'd once done anything for and still would—but it has the intended effect. He yields slightly, allowing his beloved to take him in as he is, in every sense.

Such a gentleman... Too good to me. Too beautiful, too human, too forgiving, much too kind...

The steady and reverent cadence of Armand's telepathic communications almost humorously at odds with the heavy groans spilling out of him now, as though they were being dragged out from the very core of his being. I love you so ... Please don't-

And then it's over, Armand gripping Louis's hands to intertwine their fingers over his dark hair, eyes fluttering shut with the intensity of his orgasm and the subsequent emotional come-down.

Louis isn't far behind, and the last gentle nudge of Armand's hips before he collapses forward onto his chest sends him over the edge. Long limbs locked around Armand's waist, catching the hazy, fragmented thoughts aimlessly projecting his name Louis, Louis, Louis... hearing, feeling the erratic thundering of both their heartbeats as he paints their stomachs with his release.

He's still blinking rather dazedly when Armand slips out with a quiet grunt and rolls over onto his side, an arm draped possessively over Louis's torso while he nestles against his bicep, pressing a soft kiss to the marble-white skin.

"I needed you, and you were there," A hitch to his voice; Armand still not fully recovered. "Merci, my love."

Louis pets his auburn hair, tresses wild as ever and lightly matted with blood sweat. "I'm always here, Armand, aren't I? Simply say the word, mon ange."

Picks up a hand, smaller than his. Momentarily studying the differences between his hand and Armand's; the fingers slighter, shorter, yet no less elegant, glass nails just as hard.

Armand's lips curve into a smile, his breathing slowing enough to signify he's beginning to fall into a lazy mortal sleep. One hand tucked between their bodies, the other coming to rest against Louis's angular jawline, his fingertips grazing at the generous bottom lip.

Mine too, mine too.

"Always," Louis promises, kissing each digit he can reach. Knowing that logically Armand understands this, understands the reality of the situation. Hoping that each one of their trysts now will go some way towards rebuilding his self-esteem and self-confidence back to what it was in Manhattan when it was the two of them and their little family.

Armand smiles again, his exhaustion overtaking him as his body responds to the spoken consolation and physical comfort like a kitten to a blazing fire on a frigid winter's night. My darling philosopher.

The night is still young, with plenty of time to hunt later once Armand has rested properly and is himself once more. Yet, the exertion is also starting to take its toll, manifesting differently in Louis compared to his worn-out mate. His thirst suddenly making itself known, throat aching—if he were any less of the gentleman Armand so often refers to him as, Louis would flip him onto his back this very instant and embed his teeth into that sweet, supple throat. Drink his fill.

Armand would permit him; he would welcome it, delight in it. He enjoys rough from time to time as well, craving what he considers evidence that Louis lusts for him just as much.

A quiet whimper distracts from this reverie, and emerald-green eyes flicker to Armand—awakened and clearly still in an amorous mood, plump lips parted and a light flush rising to his cheeks as he stares at Louis's mouth with the fixation of a hungry panther.

It takes a beat longer than necessary for Louis to realize why—not that that particular look from Armand is anything unusual in and of itself. Still, he had seemed so utterly drained mere minutes ago.

At some point during Armand's slumber and Louis's daydreams, two of the fingertips that had been lingering on Louis's face shifted, slipping past the fullness of his lip and into the wet crevice of his mouth.

Hadn't even realized he'd been suckling on them until he was preparing to speak, the glassy nail of an index finger touching the roof of his mouth; gazing at the fleshy side of Armand's ring finger with his fang.

“Do it,” Armand whispers, a patent command under the guise of a demure sigh. Let me nourish you tonight.

So Louis does, carefully rotating the slim wrist without ever relinquishing the fingers in his mouth; giving them a harsher, more purposeful suck before aligning the soft pad of Armand's index finger with the razor-sharp tip of his fang.

Bon appétit, mon amour.

[justsaysomethingjayj]

WIP First Lines

I truly do love a good opening, so getting to share some first lines is a real fun one for me to be tagged in. Thanks @cypanache for tagging me.

For this I opted to limit myself only to my two most recent writing docs or this list would have been ridiculously long instead of just, you know, long.

Some of these may not end up being the actual first lines, but they are what I currently got there to start with. So with that said, and without further ado… SW, Obidala:

1.

A harmless invitation goes a bit sideways.

2.

He mapped out the constellations of far away worlds against her skin, no touch of his lips on her body seemed to be without purpose. Everything held a sense of meaning.

3.

It began, almost fittingly, with a double take.

4.

“We’re allowed our lapses, Obi-Wan,” she said, as if she could sense the conflict stirring inside of him. Her hair a mess of loose curls she tried to swipe away from her eyes. “They remind us that we’re human. And there is nothing wrong with that.”

5.

He dreamed in the deepest shades of blue; of the places brushed by grief, and the shimmering hue of her long billowy dress. She was his sadness made flesh. Not real, but tangible. To be felt. Always just that. For that was all that was left of her.

6.

She pushed herself against the wall, as he pushed himself into her. Urgency and a frenzied kind of madness had overtaken him at the mere sight of her. The seductive simplicity of her in nothing more than a barely there nightgown of sapphire washed silk and an unruly tide of tousled brown curls spilling down her bare shoulders.

7.

The proposal had been completely innocent. Well-meaning in its initial intent. The idea had come to her then and she had simply thought to ask. Really, she had thought nothing of it.

OUAT, Golden Swan

1.

“It’s quite the thing,” it mused, wearing an old forgotten face, a strange but perhaps purposeful choice for the Darkness to make, “to seek out and covet death. Not the ending one would imagine for a love story.”

2.

Her eyes are full of timeless tales. Some as old as time. Fluttering back into the present. Fragmented speckles of a lifetime of broken promises and stubborn hope, shaded in a spiraling landscape of glittering greens. The subtle dark jade of envy; vibrant emerald of a rebirth; an endless evergreen of love; and just the softest hint and budding pine of corruptibility.

3.

He kills the boy and rewrites the story. Starts by making them all forgot that particularly dark deed. His sickly act of cowardice and self-preservation. Then moves on to the next chapter of the tale by claiming a powerful queen from the proverbial game board to have and to hold by his side.

4.

“There’s a deal here.” “Still so sure of yourself, Miss Swan. No matter how many times you’ve failed to play a meaningful hand against me.” He looked amused. Maybe a tad too pleased with how the cards have fallen in his favour, yet again. “There’s no version of this where you come out unscathed.”

5.

“Your hand is trembling.” The sound of his voice seemed to jerk Emma from whatever trance she had fallen into. She turned sharply to look up at him, but there's a slight glaze to her eyes that told Rumplestiltskin that she hadn't come back fully just yet. 

6.

The Evil Queen doesn't mince her words. Takes—maybe a bit too much—pride in saying them to his face with a smirk smeared across her apple red lips. "A love like that will ruin you."

7.

He’s a fickle and jealous man, and so he makes the pirate stay dead.

Bonus OUAT, Golden Swan Queen:

1.

They are conflicted. He, by true love. She, a possible soulmate. What they wanted, what’s been saturated into their blood and bones and temperamental hearts, was now a liability to their happy endings.

------------------------------ I'm still new and very much lacking in mutuals to tag, and it seems like most of the Obidala crew I know have already been tagged by others. So what the hell, I'm just gonna tag some fav writers of mine: @thestorieswesay @lazybakerart @lemonlovely @harringroveheart @justadram @lainelannister

[memarrymilf]

When I was offered the chance to live forever, I didn't quite understand the consequences. My parents slaughtered in a senseless act of sacrifice to a God that had never answered someone's prayers before. When faced with a tearful child, she had felt pity. Gods had never felt pity before, and back then, I didn't expect her to either.

I had not known just how rare that had been, she granted me the immortality, it wouldn't start then and there, if I made it to the age of 25 in the barren land we had made home, then eternal life would be my reward. Pity didn't mean much to a God who lacked entertainment, so for 12 years she watched me fight tooth and nail to survive, my brushes with death being more certain than the light that would once again rise tomorrow.

At 25, I finally realised the curse she had bestowed upon me. Immortality was not a blessing, not to humans, at least. A God had no reason to fear living forever. They had no one to lose. The life of one who can no longer be touched by death is a life to be spent grieving everyone you meet.

It took another 20 years to fully understand grief, to understand how shattering it is to lose every person you care for, and know you will never be reunited with them in death.

In spite of this, I tried to live still, refusing to give up. Even if I did, it would change nothing. Making peace with my existence would be my only solace. I clung to the feelings of soft embracing sunlight, I danced within the rain, swimming in every body of water that I would stumble across. I took time to understand the beauty of the world before understanding the way to love without pain.

I fell into the arms of all those who would have me, dancing in the hope of tomorrow. I watch as they age, they live, they love, they do not fear death, and neither did I. I spent a lifetime with every lover, experiencing more love than I thought possible.

I remain steadfast that every love was worth the ache, even if the sun's warmth became colder with every love lost, until it stopped feeling warm at all.

My womb would remain barren, I hardly expected it to change.

Perhaps that is why when faced with a child of the streets, I could not turn the other way, I could not leave them, not as I had been left. The boy was small, smaller than I remember any child being, not that I had spent much time in the company of children.

The boy was only seven.

Seven.

In seven years of existence, he had seen more cruelty than most would see in their entire lifetime.

Seven.

Seven years seems so short to me now.

To him, it was forever.

I took him home with me. In the eternity that I spent living, I hadn't spent much time cultivating wealth. There was never any need. A small cottage in a field of flowers had been all I needed, a garden with everything I could need, everything *we* could need.

There was no spare room, a study, a bathroom, and a bedroom being the only walled rooms in the cottage. The boy had spent the evening telling me of his life, I had listened.

He had told me of his family, his home, his life. The boy had been jittery and had blatantly refused to offer his name, claiming it was not for me to know. I had only smiled in return. What freedom would one hold when the one you deem unsafe can lay claim upon your name?

I had given the boy my bed, venturing to the coach myself. Resolute that tomorrow I would strip the study and buy another bed, a smaller one for now.

I didn't sleep that night, my hands trembling with grief for the first time in nearly a decade, for a boy that I had not even known three hours earlier. That had I not been alone, I doubt I would even have caught sight of.

I dug through my linen chest, pulling old curtains and blankets and tablecloths of lives long gone. I had guessed the boy's size, resigning to the fact that it would not be perfect.

When he had awoken the next day, there had been clothes. The boy had smiled, he introduced himself to me then, sharing the last thing that had protected his freedom.

James didn't seem so afraid of me anymore.

I had baked pies and pastries with the fruit from my garden, and James had spent the day playing in the afternoon sun with the ravens that had made their home in my garden. I allowed myself to feel the warmth of the sun again, if only for a moment.

When the moon rose into the sky that evening, I had read to him until he had fallen asleep in my arms, lulled to sleep by a warmth I had not known that I possessed.

And as Hestai appeared before me for the third time in my life, she had looked upon me with pity once more.

"This will hurt." She had whispered to me with soft eyes.

I swallowed thickly. "It will be worth it." I assured. I cannot be sure who I was assuring, but she seemed to understand.

"I know." She agreed.

The abandoned child you’ve taken in sleeps on your lap as the god who gave you immortality softly warns you. “This will hurt.”

[another-forgottenkid-of-zeus]

Skyler ☁️ Jazzlyn ⚡

Name: Skyler Jazzlyn Storm

Aliases: Sky, storm cloud, Jazz, Jazzy, Lyn, Zally, child of Zeus

Birthday: January 1

Age: 16-19 years old

Gender: Non-binary

Pronouns: She/they

Sexuality: Bi-curious

Godly Parent: Zeus (Legacy of Dionysus)

Personality: Quiet, stubborn, rude, aloof, prideful, assertive, serious yet humorous, sarcastic, "clumsy", mean, introverted, temperamental

Physical description: blonde curly hair, greyish-blue eyes (let's pretend my Facelclaim has these eyes alright), light beige skin, 5'10

Weapons: dagger, sword, sais

Power: flight, aerokinesis, audiokinesis, orniokinesis, nephelpkinesis (just got these from the fanon wiki)

Likes/Interests: ballet, ice-skating, painting nails, k-dramas (secretly), snow, crochet, fencing, physical affection and touch

Dislikes: Zeus, rains and storms, the skies, anything that has got to do with Zeus, "physical affection and touch"

Hobbies: ballet dancing, ice-skating, crocheting, fencing, training, sleeping, running

Year rounder or not?: year rounder

Neurpdivergence: ADHD, Dyslexia, Dyspraxia, Autism, Bipolar

Fatal flaw(s): Hubris and Holding grudges (yes she has two fatal flaws)

Trivia

• has slight memory loss

• hates physical affection and touch but yearns for it

• has a necklace that's pendant is a storm cloud that was gifted to her by her mother but never wears it (anymore) because it's associated with Zeus, instead just keeps it in a jewelry box

• faints every so often because of a head injury

• has an allergy to all kinds of nuts

• doesn't want to be associated with Zeus in any way possible

Jazz's background (S@ MENTIONED)

Jazzlyn's (step) dad used to love her so much but when he found out she wasn't his child, he killed her mother for cheating on him (she was r@p3d by Zeus) and killed Jazzlyn by giving her a nasty head Injury which gave her slight memory loss. Jazzlyn's step dad ended up killing himself and Jazzlyn was only 5 years old. Jazzlyn was dead for a while before being resurrected by these two spirits. She could only remember her name and her necklace (that was gifted to her by her mother). Jazzlyn wasn't easily identified because when she was resurrected, some things went slightly wrong. She isn't fully alive, but isn't fully dead either so she didn't really have any DNA in her blood. She was bouncing around houses for about a year because her foster parents just wanted money till one day, she just ran away. Jazzlyn stumbled into the labyrinth and was there for a while (who knows, 3 years or more). She got out during the lightning thief and was maybe 11 to 13 years old. For the remainder of the time, she was unclaimed. Why would Zeus want to claim the child of his whose parent didn't want him? They weren't even claimed after the battle of Manhattan and was just there at the Hermes Cabin, one of the only ones whose parent hadn't claimed them. Few campers already had some speculation about who her parent was but couldn't really do much because she hadn't been claimed yet. Until then, she ran away from camp again. While Jazzlyn was gone, she was again, put into foster homes and in one of them, hypermania took over her and she was getting aggressive. She also almost killed herself and was put into a mental asylum. She was there a while before escaping and turned up again in the mark of Athena and stayed at camp again until Zeus finally claimed her, only out of some silly ego competition with Poseidon. Now, she remembers only her mother's death. She was manipulated by these random spirits and is bitter and angry.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

IC will be blue and bold

OOC will be normal

Faceclaim: Sophia Anne Caruso

General tag: do not fear for jazzy is here

[sunihayez]

name: suni hayez (bears her mother's surname).

age: thirty-three.

gender: cis female.

pronouns: she/her.

sexuality: heterosexual.

neighborhood: university heights.

occupation: owner of the floral fix.

FAMILIAL INFORMATION.

mother: aletta hayez.

father: ??? chaiyachet.

siblings: dean chaiyachet (younger half-brother), other half-siblings.

QUICK FACTS.

providence peak native. currently residing in university heights!

believed her father was dead until the age of twenty-five. she bears her mother's surname because the woman couldn't give suni the surname of the married man she had been seeing.

growing up, suni was a mix of innocence and a spitfire. she could hold her own, but often didn't have to because of her two closest friends, adrian and lincoln.

was engaged to adrian at the age of twenty-eight. they first starting officially dating at the age of seventeen. they were together up until the rock climbing accident that took adrian's life.

she was lost for nearly three years after his loss. there was the bank account that she'd found out about at the age of twenty-five, but she refused to touch it up until something cracked. she emptied the account, bought a space in university heights and opened up a flower shop called the floral fix.

BIOGRAPHY.

trigger warnings: abandonment car accident, infidelity, death, pregnancy.

Some are born with silver spoons in their mouth, others are born rich in heartbreak instead. It was the latter for Suni, a sad fact that she didn't quite understand until much later in life. According to her mother, her father passed a couple of months after discovering the pregnancy, leaving the woman to shoulder every struggle on her own. There was no one to blame for the loss of her father. Just bad weather and a car that stood no chance in the end.

Growing up, Suni and her mother lived in a small two bedroom apartment in University Heights. Her mother worked for the postal service, always claiming that the federal benefits were well worth the long hours. Despite not having much, Suni never struggled for anything, but she also didn't ask for a lot either. Little did she know, there was an entire bank account set up just for her and the future her father wanted for her. The same father that was supposed to have passed before she had even entered the world.

Unbeknownst to Suni, her mother had lied. Her father was never in a car accident, but he had left a couple of months into the pregnancy. Not that he'd ever really been there for her anyway. He'd been a married man with a family of his own and when he found out about the pregnancy, he walked away.

During her teenage years, most of her time was spent between two males that couldn't have been any more different. There was Adrian, the funny, sweet, and overly charming good looker. And then there was Joshua Lincoln, the wildcard that made every inch of her burn with excitement. At the end of the day, she trusted no one more than the two of them, even if there were complications brewing within.

Complications that were sorted by a single decision of another. What she thought was a returned feeling what not, leaving her confused. It took two years for her friendship with Adrian to cross over into something more, but a longing curiosity remained. Over the years, it dwindled, but it never fully faded away. A fact that nearly tore her apart too many times to count.

Adrian and Suni did everything together. They attended the same University, spent more time in one another's dorms than their owns, which didn't matter past their freshman year because after that, they even had an apartment together. It was picture perfect to the world and happiness aside, she still felt as if something more were missing.

At the age of twenty-five, a truth was dropped on Suni that made her question every little thing she'd ever known. Her mother's story of a father passing away had been forged out of shame and heartbreak. Her father hadn't passed, he'd just ran back to his family before inevitably running back to Thailand. Worse than that? She had a sibling and potentially more right in the heart of Providence Peak and a bank account full of funds meant to push her through college. College that she'd taken out student loans for. Books that she'd worked odd jobs to cover.

With betrayal running thick in her veins, Adrian was there every step of the way. Just like the good guy he'd always been. He'd supported her in meeting one of her siblings, a man by the name of Dean. It was a difficult point in her life, a turning point that drove a wedge between herself and her mother. She understood why the woman had shielded her from the truth. So much rejection came in knowing that her father had turned his back on her, all while lining a bank account for her on the side.

For five more years, everything flowed smoothly. At the age of twenty-eight, Adrian dropped to one knee and without hesitation, she said yes. It was only after the initial yes that she began wondering if forever was something she could lean into with him. He was safe. He was warm. He felt like home. He was everything that another man hadn't been for her, but that didn't keep her from pushing back the wedding date.

At first, she had the luxury of blaming wedding vendors. Then, she made the claim that there was no rush to perfection. In reality, she was finding it difficult to accept the other's hand in marriage. Real marriage, the legally binding kind. It was what she had always wanted and yet, the thought of being led down the aisle with a smiling Adrian on the other end wasn't how she'd imagined it.

At thirty, tragedy hit. What should have been a fun guys day out was met with a loss so heavy, she was certain the entire world felt it. The engagement ring she wore had nearly burned through her skin when she confirmed the man atop the table was in fact her fiancé. Anger burned red hot in her veins, as did guilt. When she needed a person to blame outside of herself, it was the man who'd always been a mutual part of their lives. He'd been there that day and while she wanted to plead for answers, it was silence she offered instead.

It's been three years since she lost Adrian. Three years of bouncing between jobs and struggling to keep the one bedroom apartment caught up in rent. During those three years, she struggled keeping herself afloat. The comfortable job she had worked for years cut ties when it was clear Suni could no longer perform her responsibilities. She couldn't blame them, she'd become a shell of a person. Not even the first eviction threat stirred anything within her, but she managed to make ends meet long enough for a second breath of life to be pulled into her lungs.

To her surprise, Dean stuck around in her life. Confusion still lingers, but the two have forged as much of a sibling bond as time and complications could allow. He was there through the loss of Adrian, a surprise that had warmed her as much as it could. There was no real fixing what had been done. With so much left unsaid, the only person to blame for the lingering guilt and shame was herself.

On a whim, the bank account she'd refused to touch had been emptied to purchase a building in University Heights and supplies for the flower shop she'd always joked about with Adrian, though the man had never failed to encourage her. It's been off the ground for a couple of months now, but it's not gaining traction in the way that she would have liked. With her funds running low, there's a lot to consider, but isn't keen on letting go of a dream and what she considers to be one of the last remaining parts of the man she'd never deserved.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

customers at the flower shop.

old friends.

rivals.

neighbors.

awkward run-ins.

bar companion.

failed date(s).

[opalthea]

hello! i've been so busy for so long.. what shall we do today?

i propose some brainrotting, so will you spare the time to listen to my musings? i promise it would be worthwhile, that is if you are not easy to rile.

i think love with xiao is as beautiful as it is haunting. love with xiao is akin to loving endlessly, loving with every single thing you have, and yet loving without any strings attached. infatuation is not what your love is; rather, it is comfort. it is the kind of love you find in settled, married lovers, it is relishing most in the moments that are quiet, where the butterflies that annoyingly swarm your insides begin to calm instead of twisting and turning. it's the kind of adoration you find at 3 in the morning, soothing empty words meant to love and love while you bandage the wounds inflicted on his body.

you are in love with a man — a person, perhaps, so otherworldly you'd have to find room to adjust. and you do. it would be unfair to demand him to change for you, when he'd accepted you despite the obvious barrier of mortality.

to him, you are mortal, and you are fragile. he does not think of you as weak; you amaze him with other things, if not physical combat. you are one that brings peace to the worst storms, and you are the person that grounds him when his world starts to crumble and break.

xiao loves you, as hard as you love him. he adores you, you'd find that soft look on his face when he gently allows himself to hold you close. hands made to kill suddenly became hands you so adored, and he can't find it in him to complain when you pull him closer. touch was never a thing necessary for adepti, or that's what he convinced himself for the past eons, until he finds himself wishing he could link your hands (or your pinkies) together at his lower points in life.

xiao's love is silent, yet the results are loud and they echo. for you, he'd clear the road of demonic matters, and for you, every beckoning of his name, he appears. if it's you, he'd stomach any food he can take (he thinks it's sweet you avoid food with much flavour), and should it be you who asked, he'd take as many rest as he so graciously needs (and that, he does. you find him deep in slumber one time; and you think you've never seen anything as mystical as a resting adeptus boy, not when he insistently claims that he didn't require sleep. you suppose even adepti would require mortal needs, as much as he wants to argue).

your love is just as beautiful as it is free. you don't have problems not seeing him for days, so understanding of the contract he follows (despite much protest in the past). you are well aware you're not fully capable of stopping what he wants to do, and you let him. it would be unwise to keep a feral animal in a home, trapped when they're used to the wilderness outside. the similar situation goes for him -- although, he'd berate you if you ever compare him to a meek creature.

there are times when things take a turn for the worse, like this one time where your stomach dropped upon the news the traveler had brought. they told you of his almost-to-be self-sacrifice, retold the story of what goes down in the chasm, and as much as you had faith in xiao, you think you've never felt this much anguish at how easy it was for him to consider death. the traveler says that xiao had taken a turn for the better, after receiving immediate help from this anonymous source, but you could not ignore the pit in your stomach.

xiao so easily decided then and there that his fate should come to an end, and hadn't even said his farewells.

you don't think it's right that you felt some kind of anger or anguish for his behaviour, but you were, and worried sick the whole day.

in the end, you weren't even mad. a plate of almond tofu, his hand linked with yours and a night to silently appreciate the fact that he hadn't left. a quiet understanding, bitter as it may be, that both your love were without any strings attached.

endlessly, without reason, you will love him as much as he, you.

[vyrulent]

Men did this all the time and no one had said anything. The divorce was nearly finalized. Could it really be held against her to reach out for someone that could hold her and allow her to know that she wasn't completely alone in this world? Lucifer did that without these intimate moments, but she found it was all coming so naturally.

She wanted to be "the death" of him, just as she knew he'd drive her completely bonkers. Chloe Decker wanted that story. She wanted to be driving absolutely crazy with his wild antics. It had made her boring life a touch more interesting. It had broken up the monotony of motherhood and the stark, harsh reality that her drop threw upon her shoulders.

Laying back, she waited for Lucifer to move or to follow after her. This was something that she hadn't done in so long. It felt exhilarating to be touched by someone else, to be held and wanted by someone that desired to be in her life.

"Do you have protection?"

Dark eyes still remained upon him as she settled back into the pillows, her nearly nude appearance gifted to him. One pull of her panties, one movement of nimble fingers and she'd be fully exposed to him.

And while she trusted Lucifer, she still hadn't wanted to chance a pregnancy ... or any undetected STDs between testing. He may claim to be the devil, but STDs didn't care what one called themselves.

Lucifer hadn't realized he had been staring stupidly without saying anything, until her question reached him. He blinked the focus back into his gaze and looked up to her eyes, shinning in the light of the room. "You're just...exquisite," He said, tone breathless and in total wonder of her.

At the invitation, he unglued himself from his spot and made his way back to the bed, kneeling before her on the soft mattress. He'd never hold it against her if she backed out. He'd pull his hands away without question, at whatever time. But the fact that she was inviting him back to bed, allowing him, giving him permission, it was damn-near extraordinary to him.

But here she was, wanting him. This frail, mortal human had made the Devil kneel for her.

He watched her fingers raise to his face, trailing over his skin with such tenderness that it nearly made his heart ache. When her fingers reached his lips, he kissed them gently, allowing his eyes to close when her lips replaced her fingers.

He let out a trembling sigh when her lips moved to his jaw, a shaking hand coming her to rest between her shoulder blades, holding her to him, silently encouraging her exploration of his body.

"You're going to be the death of me," He said with a breathless laugh, biting back a groan when she nipped at his ear.