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#and suddenly SHE'S being punished by the gods?? she's lost a core part of herself due to the selfishness of her elders??

cosmoscourge-a · 3 years

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[This headcanon has been altered.]

Wilhelmine did NOT win over Eternalux by strength. Despite being a natural-born Vessel of Arceus, she would never have been able to take such deep control over Eternalux’s mind and body without the aid of emotional manipulation.

What actually happened was that after Friedrike’s defeat by Arceus, Eternalux fell into a deep despair. At times, she raged that Friedrike had “allowed” her to have been defeated so easily (though thankfully for their relationship it was a rage she got over by the time Friedrike revived). At times, she fell to sadness, thinking that even with all her power, her false father Arceus could never be defeated. But there was another part of her, drawn from the part of her that lost all hope, that led her once again down a dark and twisted path. Essentially, it was the part of her that told her “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em”--in the worst possible way. And Wilhelmine, when she went to approach and assimilate an Eternalux core for the first time, gave her that promise. Ally with me, she said, and we can oust the regime of the killers of Arceus. Ally with me, and you will suffer in pain no more.

And oh, did Eternalux want to regain everything she had lost. First she had everything taken away from her by her own sibling--ripped into pieces down to the cellular level by her own brother, Eternatus. Then when she dared to hope for a better future, she was bitterly disappointed by yet another crushing defeat; she was also punished by Arceus, most likely with the revocation of her godhood, for failing in her revolution against him--so she lost that as well. Nobody could save her. The Heart of Eternalux Luise chose the wrong path; instead of restoring Eternalux’s full godhood, she wanted her foolish peace. Eternatus was the only one other than her who could, and he was still sealed away by Arceus for having defeated her all those eons ago--something she had once rejoiced over, but something which she now so bitterly cursed. Having formerly been undefeated by invading gods of other universes for billions of years, it was more than a shock that now all she seemed to be doing was losing. This desperation drove her to want to do anything just to have SOMEthing again--and if she couldn’t fill the void of her life with happiness, she would fill it with RAGE.

So it was that Eternalux allied willingly with Wilhelmine’s regime. She reforged her ties with Arceus and regained her full power, with only two things on her mind: REVENGE against the world that had treated her so cruelly, and an END to all of the suffering she had endured. If she could not have the peaceful, merciful world that she wanted, she would aid Wilhelmine in a world-destroying suicide: wiping out the whole universe through the Brightest Day (except for Arceus), and dying in her own inferno. This was not the Eternalux who had dared to dream with Friedrike. This was an Eternalux who’d had the only good thing she’d experienced in eons taken away from her--who had decided that since there was nothing left for herself, that she would take the whole world down with her.

When she was defeated yet again by Tobias Mendelssohn, she expected to be killed. Tossed about by defeat this way and that, with every choice she made ending in disaster, this final nihilistic act of joining forces with a tyrant and being beaten yet again would surely be the most pathetic end to this lamentably pitiable life. But Tobias planned no end for her. He saw through to her broken heart, destroyed over and over again by the cruelty of fate--and he gave her a chance to rebuild. Arceus could not be defeated, he said, without BOTH EternaTwins leading the fight against the one who dared call himself their father. Besides, the universe would be terribly unbalanced if one of its creator gods were suddenly killed, and was he going to spend the rest of his life trying to fill the gap? Of course not; the world had enough problems already. And so, promising no punishment for her, he reunited her with Friedrike Skyherald. And so, finally, she could continue to heal.

#headcanon. || WILHELMINE VON HOHENLOHE #as the tragedy unfolds. || WORLDBUILDING #headcanon. || ETERNALUX #headcanon. || TOBIAS MENDELSSOHN

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yandere-romanticaa · 5 years

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Hello, if you're open! (If not ignore this) but I see your a fellow Hakuryuu lover as well! If you do scenarios, (if not, headcanons are fine) can you do one with yandere!Hakuryuu who's s/o escapes him during the kou civil war (to both escape his madness but also because she was pregnant with his child) and Hakuryuu is pissed and devastated and never stops looking for her. After the timeskip he finally finds her hiding in Kina with his baby son when he, Aladdin, stay there? Thanks!

Anon, I had this EXACT same idea for a while now! So thank you for requesting this, it made me so happy! Also, spoilers for the Magi manga, Kou Civil War arc. And sorry if this wasn't very good, I really tried lmao.

♡ Ren Hakuryuu ♡

It was a full moon tonight, and the 4th Emperor of the Kou Empire, Ren Hakuryuu, was looking out one of the many windows, lost deep within his enraged thoughts. A part of him knew that it was bound to happen, a part of his knew that (y/n) would try to escape. Only Judal and a couple of others knew of (y/n)'s disappearance but other then that it was all carefully hidden. The people of the empire simply could not know that the Empress had ran off to God knows where, the morale was already so low. Oh how Hakuryuu missed her, words could not express that feeling. How he longed for the warmth of her embrace and the sweetness of her voice was maddening, so much so that he could bearly concentrate on anything. It didn't help that his beloved wife was feeling rather ill before dissapearing, and the thought of her being pregnant only gave him more determination to find her. Yes, he missed her dearly but she needed to be punished. She needs to know that she cannot act like this, that Hakuryuu is just doing this to protect her! He sent countless scouts and soldiers out all over the empire and beyond, but his efforts always turned out to be fruitless. (y/n) was almost like a ghost, not a single trace was left of her. It greatly angered him but, Hakuryuu had to give her the credit of cleaning up her tracks like this. He can only imagine how stressful it felt and just how catious she had to be. I mean, almost anyone would be able to recoginse the Empress herself, no?

Whatever the case may be, Hakuryuu never gave up, he couldn't give up. He was going to find (y/n) no matter the cost. He was willing to bend this cursed world upside down if it meant that she would be his once again.

Alas, Hakuryuu had no idea just how many diffirent surprises the future had in store for him.

♡♡♡

Months have passed, and thanks to Sinbad, Hakuryuu was now one of the worlds top three most wanted terrorists. The other two were Nerva Julius, the former heir of the Reim Empire and the current king of the kingdom of Kina, Takeruhiko Yamato. All three of them had refused to give up their metal vessels to Sinbad and the Seven Seas Alliance and because of that they were branded by many as dangerous criminals. All three of them though took refuge somewhere else, and their whereabouts were unknown to the world.

It was strange how the kingdom of Kina dissapeared so suddenly. It was a small island country in the middle of the great ocean but now it was just gone. No one knew that kingdom was now hidden in the Dark continent, in one piece and with two of the "terrorists" residing there. Hakuryuu trained with Yamato every single day, in a vain attempt to keep his mind occupied. Ever since he defected from the throne his search for his wife came to a halt and this devistated Hakuryuu to no end. He would often dream her and what would their future look like if they were still together. Her sweet scent and soft skin plauged his mind for hours on end, and whenever Hakuryuu opened his eyes he was always reminded by the cold wind that he was indeed alone.

Alone...

God he hated this feeling. This constant feeling of sadness, shame, regret, emptiness fury. It was getting to him, he was just at a complete loss.

"...(y/n) my darling, just.... Where are you..."

Leaving the warmth of his bed, Hakuryuu exited the castle for a little late night stroll. The only thing that could be heard was the soft stream of a nearby river and a few smal animals here and there. He tilted his head towards the sky and was met with a sight that should have been bautiful, that should have brought him joy, if not a little wonder even. But Hakuryuu felt nothing. The glimmering stars were like another reminder of how much he had lost in such a short time. It felt as though the world was mocking him, reminding him of his past mistakes and failures. For a short while he had it all, he truly did. He had his empire, he had Judal, he had (y/n)... But now?

He had nothing.

Should he even contiune on with his life? What even is the point of living if the world has made its point crystal clear, that there is no place for him in it? Truth be told, the only reason he was alive right now was to just spite the world. Deep down he was still clinging to that small ray of hope that one day he could see (y/n) once again. Just to see her smile, to hear her voice, anything!

He stood on the dirt path, so lost in his own dark mind that he failed to see a little boy running up towards him. Hearing the soft footsteps, Hakuryuu turned around and was met with a sight that shook him to the core. Looking down he saw a little boy, no older then three, but he was almost identical as Hakuryuu. It was like staring in to a small mirror! They had the same face and hair, but what Hakuryuu took special note of were his (e/c) eyes. They were so familliar-!!! Furrowing his brow, Hakuryuu violently shook his head. He... He really was going crazy wasn't he...? He was just imagining things, he had to be! His blue eyes were glued to the little boy and all sorts of thoughts ran through his broken mind. Hope was slowly bubbling up in his chest once he finally realized that he could speak once again. But before he could, he heard someone yell.

"Daiju, there you are! Sweetie, you can't just run off in-!!"

Time itself felt as though it came to a halt the moment those (e/c) eyes locked in to Hakuryuu's. Hakuryuu was almost shaking, not fully realizing that this was real. Slowly, he tilted his head and looked at the boy once more. The little boy, Daiju, seemed to be confused but he still smiled none the less. Hakuryuu put the two and two together and the thought came to him.

This was his son.

(y/n) was right in front of him.

Was this real? Was any of this real?! Did he somehow die in his sleep?! Or was this a dream!!? Without even thinking, Hakuryuu quickly took ahold of (y/n)'s arm. It was just like how he remembered it, so soft and delicate... His breathing was ragged and uneven, his his grip far thighter then it ever was. How badly (y/n) wanted to scream at that moment. She needed to get out of here, she needed to hide her son, his son-!

She trembled and whimpered as Hakuryuu lightly twisted her wrist. He pushed her on to the ground and covered her mouth with one of his hands. Daiju shouted in the background, wanting Hakuryuu to just "get off his mommy!" His gaze was intense, angry, loving... Salty tears escaped those (e/c) that he loved so much as he dipped his head near her neck. He lightly sniffed her neck, fully englufing (y/n)'s intoxicating smell. He had no clue just how much he craved her, just how badly he would lose control once her found her. Nothing prepared Hakuryuu for this, but he sure as Hell wasn't going to let her go. Daiju's face was covered in tears as he lightly punched Hakuryuu's back in a desparate attempt to help his mother. Hakuryuu turned his gaze towards his son, his eyes slightly softening in the process. A small smile framed his face as he stared at the little boy, his boy, who in return was terrified beyond belief. (y/n) trashed beneath Hakuryuu but no matter what she did it was no good. He was strong, much more strong then he was the last time they were together.

Hakuryuu once again turned his attention towards (y/n), only this time with a look that could kill. His slim fingers lightly traced her neck, almost like a warning. She dared not to move as she now knew just how screwed she was. She thought that she was finally free, and even though the pregnancy caught her off guard, she still deeply cared for her son, even if he still was this monsters son.

Even so, his eyes shined with such determination that (y/n) shook with complete and utter fear. The air around her became thick as she felt as though she could no longer breathe. And with Hakuryuu right on top of her, she really could not. She prayed and prayed for mercy but no one heard her, and no one was ever going to hear her. They were finally back together and Hakuryuu had never felt so happy in his entire life.

#yaaay #i finally have magi requests in my inbox!!#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #magi #magi imagine #magi x reader #magi the labrynth of magic #magi the kingdom of magic #yandere magi #yandere magi x reader #ren hakuryuu #hakuryuu ren #yandere hakuryuu ren x reader #yandere hakuryuu ren #yandere ren hakuryuu

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mcgrillzdumpinc · 4 years

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Further Ahead - a Madame Lan fic

Summary: Lan Chunhua became wife to Qingheng-jun through no will of her own. She bore his children and held her own against the strict Lan sect. In her time spent in the Gentian House, she planned an escape that would allow her to leave with her sons. Little did she know that she would find herself thirty years into the future.

Word count: 5517

Rating: T

ao3 link

Inspired by an idea from fallenwithstyle!

She wakes up with a gasp. Ripples of energy pulse through her body, unyielding and nauseating. She nearly falls over, catches herself with her hands, resists the urge to empty her stomach as she breathes and calculates and settles herself.

Did it work?

She looks around the room. It is almost the same as the one she started in. Spacious, barely decorated, every bit a Lan house. Except the flowers are different. Instead of spring annuals, there are winter flowers in the vases. A light coat of dust covers every surface. Her working desk is empty of any of her documents.

The ritual worked.

~~~

Fu Chunhua was just past seventeen years of age when she decided to visit Caiyi Town. She had heard many things about Gusu, about the canals and the resplendent beauty of the Lan sect. As a rogue cultivator from a border town far north, she carried little care for a monastic order turned cultivation sect. Her interests lay purely in travel, in the ways she could help as a singular woman, values that had been passed to her by her late parents. So she joined a caravan of merchants on the promise of pay for her protection of them.

In some stories, she would have felt dread upon entering Caiyi. Something would have told her to turn away. But this is no such story. Nothing was amiss during her few days stay. She rested, stocked up on her supplies, and was about to leave for another destination when she collided with a young man.

He was a fine young thing, even when disheveled upon the ground. He truly appeared like a being made out of finest of jade, ethereal like falling snow and more beautiful than the rising sun. Like the moon had blessed him and his stark white robes.

“Are you hurt?” he immediately asked, scrambling to his feet to help her up.

“I am uninjured,” she replied as she took his hands.

“I apologize for not seeing you sooner,” the stranger said, releasing her hands to bow to her. “And…forgive me for asking so soon, but what is your name, young madame?” he asked her. There were stars forming in his dark brown eyes.

Fu Chunhua knew this dance. A young man, struck by her loveliness, jumping to conclusions within seconds of knowing her. It had happened so many times before, and she expected it would happen so many times again. She introduced herself, and he introduced himself in turn. Qingheng-jun, they called him. Lan Guoliang, sect leader of the Gusu Lan.

“I didn’t expect I would be meeting an esteemed sect leader on this day,” Fu Chunhua said, even though she was ready to leave. She couldn’t be rude to someone of such high status, especially in his own territory.

“It must be an auspicious day,” Lan Guoliang replied, “since I am meeting a beauty such as yourself.”

“Ah… I am not so beautiful, Qingheng-jun. I am certain there are much more resplendent beauties within your sect.”

“But none who can match you.”

“…Thank you. If you’ll forgive my absence, I must hurry to my next location.”

Then she tried to leave. She was successful, for a time. She managed to reach the city gates, was about to mount her sword, was about to escape yet another hopeless romantic, when suddenly Qingheng-jun grabbed her by her arm.

“I am so sorry, Fu-xiaojie. I am stubborn to a fault. Please offer me a chance to prove myself.”

The persistent type, then. Well, nothing she hadn’t handled before. She offered for him to join her on a night hunt. So many had lost interest once they saw her fighting style—barbaric, they called it. In truth, they could not imagine a woman stronger than them, one who could hold her own against a hundred beasts and not care for the blood spilt on her robes. She doubted this Lan Guoliang would be any different.

Except, he would. After the monster was vanquished, she found herself stone still before the bowing young man, who begged for her hand. ‘Love at first sight,’ he called it. ‘A love made for the gods,’ he claimed. He called her the perfect wife for him, without once asking if she cared a drop for him.

She refused. Of course she did. Without a thought towards his heartbroken tears, Fu Chunhua mounted her sword and left him behind. That should have been the last of it. Nobody in their right mind would chase such a harsh woman.

She should have known, though. She really should have known.

He found her less than a month later. Another town, not far from Gusu but closer to Yunmeng territory. She could easily chalk it up to coincidence. There was significant ghost activity, enough to warrant the attention of a major cultivation sect. But she still kept her distance, best she could, even though he would search her out in crowds and kept close during night hunts. She could tolerate it. Just until the all ghosts were vanquished. Then maybe she would visit lands outside of imperial bounds. For a year, at the very least. Surely he would lose interest by then.

But she would not get the chance to escape. One night, the cultivators that had gathered agreed to split up, take up investigation on their own terms and then reconvene by dawn. They all had signal flares on hand in case they ran into trouble. Fu Chunhua took her own route, as she was wont to do. The silence of the woods was a welcome respite. So welcome, in fact, that she failed to notice her company.

The man who had followed her was a Lan, but was not Qingheng-jun. He was one of Lan Guoliang’s teachers, apparently. Lan Lijun. A much older fellow, not nearly as strong as his pupil or even Fu Chunhua. But he was gentler than a spring breeze in the way he spoke. Sweeter than a plum in the way he carried himself. So all her walls were down when he drew his sword on her.

He called her a curse. A temptation that drew Qingheng-jun from his studies, from his duties as a righteous sect leader. As the old man shouted and slashed, he made it blindingly clear that nothing short of her death would serve to save Qingheng-jun from the plight of her mere existence.

Fu Chunhua fought back. Fu Chunhua killed the old man. Fu Chunhua did the right thing and turned herself in.

Then she became Lan Chunhua. Married to protect her life. Kept captive in a scenic prison. When her husband came to her, she surrendered. She allowed him her body, however long or often he wanted. Despite how much she cried, or how much she ached for any form of freedom, she did not kill the spawn of their union. Not the first, nor the second. She did not fight when they took the children from her. She did not argue for the right to see them more often. She mothered from a distance, paid her wifely dues, and planned her escape in secret.

There was a maid. A young, bright thing. Lan Meilin. Besides Xichen and Wangji, Lan Meilin was the brightest part of Lan Chunhua’s poor excuse for a life. She was not like most Lans—her voice was always an octave too loud, her posture slacked when no one was looking, she actually talked to Lan Chunhua for more than necessity. When she could get permission, they would talk about everything and nothing for hours into the night. She was a wonder. And she was more than willing to help Lan Chunhua. In fact, the escape plan was hers and hers alone.

“You’re quite a skilled cultivator, aren’t you, Lan-furen?”

“My older brother gained access to the secret rooms in the Library Pavilion! There are all sorts of techniques stashed there! Shhh, but don’t tell anyone I told you, okay? He only told me because I wouldn’t stop pestering him!”

“Lan-furen… my brother found research on time travel. I don’t know how to tell him not to think too much into it. It’s impossible, right?”

“Lan-furen. This may not be for me to speak of… But I heard of a story, recently. A captive woman who found freedom. They say a dragon saved her. Others say she rescued herself. Would you like to hear the story?”

“Lan-furen… I’m sorry to scare you, I know it’s late. But I’m sure it won’t be long until they find out. I snuck into the Library Pavilion. I copied down everything I could about transportation, even those studies on time travel. Please, use them. It is the last thing this young fool will be able to do for you.”

Lan Chunhua did not hear a thing about Lan Meilin after that night. Any questions were met with silence and avoidance. Dead, alive, punished—she would never know her maid’s fate. But there was one truth she could know, and that was how to leave her cage.

But she couldn’t leave without her sons. Regardless of their parentage, Xichen and Wangji were her little treasures. Xichen with his unrelenting kindness and emotional insight. Wangji with his hilariously withdrawn nature and stubborn loyalty. She couldn’t leave them behind, not for the world and all its riches.

But there was no transportation talisman that would allow her to transport all three of them, not without giving up her whole golden core and perhaps even her life. And there was no guarantee they would go with her, or that they wouldn’t be caught. The only way was forward. The only way was forward.

So she took the way forward. She studied and experimented and improved. And then, one night, it wasn’t a flower or a vial that was put in the middle of the array. It was her, and she was ready.

~~~

Now the only trouble is moving. Much as Lan Chunhua tries, she cannot find her footing, let alone sit up. The best she can do is drag herself by her arms. But that will not get her anywhere quick, least of all surreptitiously.

So focused she is on gathering her strength at least enough to hide herself, she does not notice that company has arrived on her doorstep. She’s a far distance from the closest adjoining room when the door to her cottage opens. Her guest is a young man, much to her surprise. Has so much time passed that the Lan sect has done away with separation of sexes? She doubts it—an entire century could pass before a single elder would consider altering a single rule. What’s more, despite the blue and white Lan robes the young man wears, he isn’t wearing a headband. The only decoration to his hair is a bright red ribbon. A guest cultivator, then. One that is doubtlessly trespassing.

Well, if she needed someone who wouldn’t dare to cause a ruckus and would have good reason to be furtive, she certainly wouldn’t be able to find someone better than him.

“You!” she exclaims, pointing at him.

He furrows his brows, pointing at himself. His back bends with the motion. “Me…?”

“You will help me!” she commands, dragging herself however lamely in his direction.

He raises his hands and takes a step back. “I don’t know how much help I could be. Who are you, anyway? What are you doing in Lan-furen’s quarters?”

“I can ask you the same thing.”

A quip is on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it and reconsiders. A tilt of his head to the left, then the right, then he says, “That’s fair. Here, let’s start with introductions, then! My name is Wei Wuxian, husband to the standing sect leader, Lan Wangji.”

Lan Wangi! Her stoic, warm, darling Wangji, married? To a man who carries himself like he has the sun at his back! Lan Chunhua must restrain the tears that prick at her eyes. She has so many questions and just as many felicitations to wish, but there is time yet for those. Surely, the appearance of her Wangji’s husband as her savior must be the will of the heavens.

“And you are?” Wei Wuxian asks with a welcoming, close-lipped smile.

“…Lan Chunhua,” she answers truthfully. “Your husband’s mother. Please, if you can—” Before she can finish her sentence, an implication catches her. And it settles in her like a tiger’s maw on her heart. “You said standing sect leader… What happened to Lan Huan? Lan Xichen? What has happened to my son, nuzu?”

He blinks at her, face and shoulders and arms falling like weights are attached to his skin. “You…? Lan Zhan’s mother? That’s not possible!”

She resists the urge to roll her eyes. There’s much more pressing matters at hand. “You do not have to believe me when I say I traveled through time. But I assure you, I am very much A-Zhan’s mother. Do you need me to prove it? Check all you like, but you must bring me to my children.”

“I—” He looks around, finger pointed upwards at nothing in particular. “Hold on!”

He runs rather fast, she has to say. If worry for her Xichen wasn’t weighing on her so heavily, she might just laugh at the character her Wangji decided to marry. He must be so terribly happy, she realizes with a wistful sigh.

~~~

“Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan!”

Normally, Wei Wuxian wouldn’t interrupt training, least of all when his wonderful husband is the teacher of the day. Lan Wangi has more than enough troubles on his mind, as Wei Wuxian often has to remind him when sect leader duties leave him weary to the bone. As his husband (and as part of proving that he’s ‘rehabilitated’, as Nie Huaisang likes to call it), Wei Wuxian does what he can to keep the Cloud Recesses running. Repairs and construction jobs, maintaining some trade negotiations, entertaining the more restless of the disciples—Wei Wuxian does what he can to lighten the load.

That’s why, today, he snuck into the late Lan-furen’s quarters. He was hoping to find something to brighten Lan Wangji’s mood, which has been truly dismal ever since Lan Xichen started turning away his own brother. What he found instead, well, he can only hope it will turn out for the better.

He jumps towards Lan Wangji. Without even looking away from the disciples, Lan Wangji catches him with one arm. “Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian repeats, circling his arms around his husband’s neck, “I have something important to show you! It can’t wait!”

Lan Wangi glances at him with the slightest hint of a smile. He calls over a nearby senior disciple to take over then walks the same direction Wei Wuxian came. Wei Wuxian has to kick his legs to convince Lan Wangji to let him down, but he keeps a hand against his husband’s back as they walk together.

“So,” Wei Wuxian starts, “I came across a big surprise today.”

“What is it?” Lan Wangji asks, smiling down at him indulgently.

“Guess!” Wei Wuxian replies with doe eyes.

Lan Wangji considers for a long time. They’re already nearing the Gentian House when he replies, “You found a mate for Lil’ Apple?”

Wei Wuxian snorts. “Is that the best you could come up with?! So unimaginative, Lan-er-gege.”

A familiar hunger ignites in Lan Wangji’s eyes. Before he can be pulled aside for some truly ancestor-shaming activities, Wei Wuxian grabs his husband’s wrist and pulls him to their destination. “No, it’s something much more dramatic.” They reach the steps and Lan Wangji’s posture shifts immediately—shoulders tense, eyes focused. Wei Wuxian slides his hand down to intertwine his fingers with Lan Wangji’s. “I know I’m not allowed here, but I wanted to find a present for you. But I found something else. There’s a woman in there, she claims to be your mother.”

Immediately, Lan Wangji’s eyes widen. He looks between Wei Wuxian, then to the entrance door. Back to Wei Wuxian, then he very nearly runs inside.

~~~

The doors open with force. Lan Chunhua looks up. There’s another man standing in the entryway and he looks so much like Qingheng-jun that she nearly throws a vase at him. But quickly she realizes his eyes match hers—golden. He is slimmer than his father, his face more delicate in features, and she recognizes those heavy set of brows that pull his expressions into stone.

“A-Zhan!” she cries. She reaches out her arms, begging, desperate, joyful. “Mama,” he replies as he sinks into her embrace. His voice is so much deeper now, his arms can wrap around her entire torso now, he’s so much stronger now. But there is gentleness and anxiety in his hug, like when he was a child and feared the second he would be taken from her. She holds him all the tighter for it.

“I’m so sorry, my darling. Please forgive your Mama for disappearing from you.”

There is a wetness pooling on her shoulder. She cards her fingers through his hair, lets him cry without acknowledgment, as she looks up at her savior, Wei Wuxian. ‘Thank you’, she mouths to him, and he smiles and bows in return.

“Why did you go…?” she hears her son mutter.

She shushes him and begins to rock side to side, just as he liked as a child. “I had to leave, baobei. A bird cannot survive for long in a cage.”

He seems to take that for a satisfactory answer. Wei Wuxian closes the doors and settles to Wangji’s right. His eyes are trained entirely on Wangji, a loving warmth in his smile, and Lan Chunhua once again finds herself thankful that her son found such a perfect husband.

Lan Chunhua does not realize she fell asleep in her Wangji’s hold until she comes to in his lap. The sunlight filtering through the windows is a deep orange—the afternoon has come and gone and the dusk is nearly upon them.

“It seems I must apologize to you again, A-Zhan. I was more tired than I realized.”

“Mn,” is his reply. Lan Chunhua nearly laughs at the familiarity. “You were low on spiritual power. Wei Ying is working on getting you food now.”

She looks down at where Wangji’s fingers are pressed to her wrist pulse. “You must have cultivated a truly strong golden core to feed me for so long. Thank you, baobei.”

The tips of his ears turn pink. This time, she does laugh.

“Oh, don’t be so shy!” She reaches up and pats his cheek twice. “So many years, and you’re still the same.”

“…I am not the same,” he argues, somewhat lamely.

Lan Chunhua laughs again. “I guess you are right. I certainly could not imagine my little A-Zhan marrying such a lively man.” She sits up and catches his smile. “Tell me, A-Zhan, how did you meet him?”

“We met during the yearly lessons. He was a nuisance.”

“That’s what drew you to him, isn’t it? You always loved the brightest things. What sect did he belong to?”

Something unpleasant crosses Wangji’s expression, but it quickly dissipates. “The Yunmeng Jiang. He was their head disciple.”

Lan Chunhua’s memories of the Yunmeng Jiang are few. She never lingered anywhere long enough to meet most of the cultivation world’s sect leaders, so the majority of her memories from Yunmeng are of the territory itself and not the sect that called it home. But she can recall seeing Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan on a few night hunts. One was too placid, the other too fiery. She cannot imagine their head disciple would have lived in a pleasant environment.

“Is he happy here?” she asks as she takes her son’s hand. “This sect does not stifle him?”

“Nobody can stifle him,” Wangji answers, threading his long fingers with hers. “I would not let them. He can only be happy.”

So her son has become the type who would sooner break the world than let his loved one suffer. “I am proud of you. I left you so early but still you became such a good man.”

He smiles. “I am glad you have returned. I have missed you.”

The door opens. Wei Wuxian has arrived with dinner for all three of them. She dare not think of how he must have wheedled so much food from the chefs, let alone managed to transport all of it to her house without being noticed. She can only be thankful for his incredible sense of timing, for she’s certain she would have fallen asleep again if he had taken another minute.

They eat steadily and quietly. Shamelessly, Wangji and Wei Wuxian sit glued to each other’s side. Lan Chunhua decides to not comment and waits until they finish dinner to answer their questions about how she traveled. Then, she asks something that has been buzzing persistently at the back of her mind.

“A-Zhan, tell me about A-Huan. Wuxian called you the standing sect leader… What happened to A-Huan? Shouldn’t he be the sect leader? Or…” She steels herself for this thought, “is your father still breathing, while A-Huan is not?”

A chill sweeps through the room. Before her nerves can jump to the worst conclusion, Wei Wuxian answers. “Qingheng-jun passed away many years ago. Your son, Lan Xichen, became sect leader. He was very capable and truly an exemplary sect leader, but…”

“Tragedy struck him,” Wangji continues. He does not meet Lan Chunhua’s eyes as he says, “A friend betrayed him and killed someone he cared deeply for. Brother has gone into seclusion while I handle the sect in his stead.”

The irony does not go unnoticed. The story is so similar to her own circumstances, at least in summary. She knows well that Lan Qiren ran the sect while his brother secluded himself. She knows well that her first son might be following in his father’s footsteps despite her best wishes.

“It is best you hear the story from him,” Wangji finishes. “Will you meet with him tonight?”

~~~

As usual, the Cloud Recesses falls into an almost complete slumber at nine that night. They wait an extra thirty minutes before leaving the cabin and hurrying to Lan Huan’s quarters.

Before going in, however, Wangji pulls Lan Chunhua aside while Wei Wuxian keeps a lookout. “He is not well, mother. He has begun to turn everyone away. Please do not judge him if he is harsh to you.”

Lan Chunhua cups her youngest son’s cheek, rubbing away his worry with her thumb. “I could never judge him, A-Zhan. He is my firstborn.”

Wangji nods, minutely, before hugging her. He lets go before she can return the embrace. Then he hurries inside to wake his brother. She gives Wei Wuxian a squeeze to the arm as thanks before following Wangji inside.

Xichen’s quarters are spacious, much more than her own. It occurs to her that these must have been his father’s, but she does not see a touch of Qingheng-jun anywhere. All of Xichen’s favorite things—instruments, books of poetry, scrolls of art, among other things—dot the walls. She sees his work desk, where a xiao she recognizes as Liebing sits. Worryingly, on the desk as well are several unclean dishes, as though he had failed to bring them to his door to be taken away by the servants. Or, worse, has refused to let anyone move for him. Before she can follow the instinct to clean them up, she hears Wangji wake his brother farther into the room. She moves towards her youngest son’s voice into a partitioned-off part of the room, behind which lays a bed.

The area here is in a much worse state than the rest of his quarters. Where everything else was mostly clean, here paper is strewn across the floor. Even in the dim light, she can see sword slashes on the mat. The bed is in equal disarray and the man who sits upon it has lost any light in his eyes.

Lan Chunhua’s stomach sinks. Her son did not become his father. Rather, he became her.

“Brother,” Wangji begins, “I am sorry for waking you, but someone important has come to see us.”

Xichen rubs at his eyes, chasing away the last of his sleep with a yawn. “Who is it, Wangji?”

Lan Chunhua holds her breath when her firstborn looks up and meets her eyes. Silence engulfs the room, suffocating in its stillness. She is thankful when he speaks.

“…Mother?” he whispers. He leaves the bed, stumbles just slightly, and creeps towards her. He reaches out his hand, stops himself just short of her face.

“I am real, A-Huan,” she promises. “I am real.”

He cups her cheek. His hand is large enough to cover her entire face. She holds his arm with both her hands, leans into the touch. “Why are you here? You are supposed to be dead.”

“She traveled,” Wangji explains in her stead. He walks over to her left side and stares, quite intensely, at her. Deliberating, Lan Chunhua realizes after a second. “She never died.”

“How?” Xichen immediately asks without breaking eye contact with her. Then, as though a string finally broke, tears begin to fall from his eyes, quickly and without any restraint as his face scrunches up. He curls into himself, curls over her, and Lan Chunhua is quick to pull him to her, hugging her son who is now twice her size. “Why weren’t you here?” he asks through a broken voice.

“I couldn’t stay,” she answers again. She traces the tips of her fingernails up and down his back, creating patterns for his nerves to follow. “A tiger belongs in the wild.”

Xichen grips her, tight, almost enough to hurt. Wangji, apparently done deliberating, pulls them both into a hug.

“Why weren’t you here sooner?” Xichen asks. “You should have been here sooner.”

“I know,” Lan Chunhua replies. She holds him tighter. “I wish I had come back sooner.” She sighs, threads her fingers into his hair to cup the back of his head. “You both grew up without me. I am ashamed to call myself your mother when I failed to raise you.”

“Do not,” Wangji interrupts. He rests his cheek on top of her head. “You are here now. That is what matters most.”

That statement alone fills her chest with warmth. “Thank you, my son. I am here now, and I have no intention of leaving you again.”

Xichen breaks into a wail. He begins to fall, and both she and Wangji steadily sink to the ground with him. Xichen shifts his grip so he has a hand on Wangji’s waist while the other is pressed against Lan Chunhua’s back. “I have made so many mistakes. I am ashamed to call myself your son!”

Lan Chunhua shushes him. “Breathe first, A-Huan. Breathe first, then think.”

He follows her instructions. It takes several starts and stops and more than one instance of pulling him back when he tries to pull away. But he gets there, eventually. By then, Wangji has had to take a break outside, only to return some minutes later with Wei Wuxian in tow.

Now the four of them are sitting at Xichen’s working desk. Wei Wuxian has prepared tea while Wangji works on cleaning up his elder brother’s face. Xichen sits opposite Lan Chunhua, cradling his cup of tea and leaning into the warmth.

“…I must apologize for my earlier state,” Xichen starts. “I should have greeted you with more composure.”

Lan Chunhua clicks her tongue. “There is no such thing as composure around your mother,” she scolds. “You could have come to me with the air of a god and I would still see my little A-Huan.”

He smiles, just slightly, at that. She hears Wei Wuxian snicker. Wangji starts to undo his brother’s sleeping braid as Xichen continues speaking. “Even still…” He pauses, putting his words in order. “Despite my earlier discomposure, I must admit there was some truth to my words.” He meets Lan Chunhua’s eyes with intensity. “Why are you here now, mother?”

“I do not know,” she admits easily. “The array I used was purely experimental. I had hoped I would skip to when you and A-Zhan were at least ten years old, just old enough to escape with me. You were too young when I put the array to use. I did not expect I would return when you were adults.”

Xichen tightens his grip on his teacup. Wangji starts to comb his brother’s hair. “So it was an escape plan, then.” There are more words on his tongue, Lan Chunhua can tell, by the way he swallows and carefully puts his teacup down. He hasn’t taken a sip of tea.

“I do not plan to leave now,” she tells him. “You both have your places here—”

“So you will leave us behind again?” Xichen interrupts.

“Brother,” Wangji gently scolds. He stops combing in order to rub a hand up and down Xichen’s back. Wei Wuxian shifts so that he is sitting closer to his husband.

“I know,” Xichen responds. “I know…” A deep breath, and he crumples into himself again.

“…You’ve been hurt,” Lan Chunhua observes. “Quite deeply, it seems.”

“I have,” Xichen says. “There… There were two men I cared deeply for.” He grabs the teacup again, quickly empties it. Wei Wuxian immediately refills it. Xichen bends over the heat. “They held my heart in equal amounts. But I did not believe one, while I blindly believed the other. It cost many, many lives, including both of their own. In your absence, I have failed so many.”

She realizes something in the hunch of his shoulders. “Do you expect me to scold you? Hate you?”

His silence is all the answer she needs.

“A-Huan,” she reproaches. “I could never hate you. Look at me.”

With much reluctance, he complies. Wangji begins to redo his sleeping braid.

“You were my firstborn. There were many before you who did not make it. To me, you are a precious existence. You could fall into the deepest depths of sin and still I would love you. That is my duty and my joy as your mother. And never again shall I abandon you and your brother. I am here to stay.”

“Mother…” Xichen whispers. He and his brother share the same teary eyes.

With no more time she is willing to waste, Lan Chunhua stands up and crosses to the other side of the table. She pulls her sons of blood and marriage into a hug, holding them all as tight as her small arms will allow.

“I will stay here,” she promises. “For as long as the heavens allow.”

~~~

It takes another year for Xichen to leave seclusion. Time, Lan Chunhua must remind Wangji and Wuxian, he needs to take his time. But on the meritorious day he announces his seclusion done, Xichen looks ten times stronger than the night of their reunion. Lan Chunhua is there to greet her son and sect leader with a smile.

The period of her readjustment and reintroduction is not an easy one. The elders still remember her, still scream for her banishment just as strongly as the day Qingheng-jun brought her here. But her sons protect her and vouch for her. To her great surprise, Lan Qiren eventually, though reluctantly, takes her side as well. “The boys have suffered enough,” he tells her in private. “I would not take their happiness from them again.”

What comes as the biggest surprise is meeting Wangji and Wuxian’s son. Lan Sizhui is a perfect angel with a backbone to rival his fathers’. He comes a set pair, as well, apparently. Lan Chunhua rarely sees him without his friend, Lan Jingyi, who is truly the loudest and most boisterous boy the Lans could have possibly produced. Lan Chunhua loves them both instantly. And it comes as little surprise to her, in the end, when she finally learns who Jingyi’s mother is.

(“Lan-furen, it is a pleasure to see you again. No words can describe the joy of knowing our plan worked.”)

Lan Chunhua learns in time of Wuxian’s past transgressions. Through that, she learns of the men who broke Xichen’s heart in three. She aches relentlessly for them both. And when finally she meets Wen Ning, she is sure to gift him with robes she crafted herself.

There are days still when her bones ache for her to run. Escape the Lans, escape Gusu, escape to the border town she once called home. Sometimes she catches glares that make her wish to scream. But she settles herself in her new home, far from the gentians, attended upon by those Wangji ensured would not hurt her. She will travel again one day, she is sure. A dragon must soar, unbidden by earthly needs. But, for now, this is enough. Seeing her sons smile again is more than enough.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #lan xichen #lan wangji #wei wuxian #madame lan #wwx #lwj #lxc #sometimes i write

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cakesunflower · 5 years

Text

Made of Gold [Angel/Demon!Luke AU] One Shot

A/N: so this is my take on angel/demon!Luke, as in he’s half of both! i hope y’all enjoy this djknfjdn it’s over 11k words & 30 pages hehe so yeah pls let me know what you think!

NOW

He never stopped keeping track of her. She was ingrained in his mind, meant to be kept there for as long as he was alive; he’d never forget the fire her touch ignited, hotter than the depths of Hell he resided in, or the soft glow of her brown eyes when she looked at him, or the way her prominent cheekbones pushed up when she stunned him with her gorgeous smile. It had taken a while for her to look at him like that, after finding out who—what—he was, and the first time she’d smiled at him, Luke remembered feeling the heart of the body he’d taken over centuries ago beginning to race, a sensation he’d never felt before, one only she could elicit from him.

Tameera was everything Luke wasn’t. A bright, welcoming aura around her that made people fall in love with her effortlessly; with her smile and eyes and heart, and she didn’t even have to try. Luke couldn’t believe, at one point, he thought he’d been too good for that. Well, good wasn’t the appropriate term; he just thought he was better than her, better than to take one look at her smiling face and fall to his knees in front of her. That was the demon in him deciding; the part of him he inherited from his father—dark and uncaring with the occasional attitude of seeing humans as pathetic scum that couldn’t fend for themselves.

But then he thought of his mother, long gone and one of heaven’s angels, who always believed humans were meant to be protected as one of God’s finest creations. Luke often wondered how someone like his mother could fall in love with his father, one of the most powerful demons and the King of Hell, a ruler in his own right with Lucifer being dead for centuries before Luke ever came to be. For so long, Luke struggled with who he was; being half demon and half angel, not entirely bad but not entirely good, either. He’d gone so long without his mother’s words that he found himself often molding into the attitude his father possessed, darkened by the loss of Luke’s mother and damn near ruthless in his rulings.

And while he was the Prince of Hell with a father as unbending as his, it wasn’t until he met Tameera that Luke finally understood what his mother had been talking about all those years ago. How humans were needed to be protected and guided and cherished—Luke only took it one step further by falling in love with one.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t forget who his father was. He couldn’t forgive his father, either. Not for what he had done.

*****

THEN

Luke wasn’t sure if he kept picking at his chipped black nails because he was dreading it or if he was impatient to get it over with. It’s not like he’s never done this before—tracking down and taking care of demons who went against his father’s commands was something he’s been doing for years now. Just a quick stab with his serrated knife and it was done, punishment for extracting human souls long before their time. Truthfully, Luke never understood why he always felt so jittery before doing something like this; it was only a demon he was getting rid of. Sure, he was half demon himself, but ridding of a human soul sucker that ran around causing havoc wasn’t the worst thing.

Maybe it was the actual act of killing. Angels were warriors as well, soldiers of heaven just like demons were soldiers of hell. All in all, Luke was meant to be a warrior down to his very core. Maybe it was because he knew every time he killed a demon, he was killing the human host it had taken over. Knew that there was no chance for the soul that had once been the person the demon took over to ever recover, that it was gone. It was the angel in him that felt for the lost soul, but the demon in him that got the job done.

He was sitting on a bench on the sidewalk that faced the street, the bar behind him bustling with life as a line of people stood outside, ready to go in. Luke sat with his back against the metal armrest, digging into his lower back through the material of his button down and leather jacket, right foot on the ground and left foot propped up on the bench. The guy he was after was inside, Luke knew, but he wasn’t about to storm inside. While most demons liked things messy, it was the angel in him that wanted this to be done as quietly as possible.

The music playing in the bar was suddenly no longer muffled as he heard a woman’s voice call, “Goodnight, Pete.”

Luke glanced up in time to see a brunette walk out of the bar, waving at the bouncer and walking down the sidewalk he was facing. His eyes trailed after her, unable to see her face yet could hear the clicking of her heels on the pavement. But then suddenly someone was walking behind her, and Luke’s blue eyes caught sight of a familiar spiderweb tattoo on the man’s wrist and knew instantly that it was who he was after.

His tall figure moved quietly in the night, the only source of lights coming from the street lamps and the bar behind them, the hour of night having everything else closed. Luke’s blue eyes narrowed, the guy, Jakob, only a few strides ahead of him, taking note of the slouch of his shoulders and his quick steps. For a moment, Luke figured Jakob realized he was right behind him.

But then Luke watched as Jakob’s arms shot out and grabbed the woman that had been just a few steps ahead of him, unaware of him behind her, and watched in a moment of incredulity as Jakob pulled the struggling girl, her shouts muffled by his hand covering her mouth, into a dark alley to the left.

Oh, fuck no.

Luke had never been one to deal with human affairs. After his mother’s death, his father forbid it, said if Luke was to get involved with humans it would be to take their souls for reaping. So Luke accepted the occasional job of hunting down disobeying demons and his father left him alone, having bigger things in hell to deal with.

But this—Luke wasn’t capable of standing by and letting it happen.

It was empty on the streets and Luke swiftly slid into the dark alley just in time to see Jakob grasp the girl’s shoulders and slam her into the brick wall behind her, the scream she tried to release cut off into a choked gasp at the force of the action. Jakob, taller and stronger than her, pressed his knife to her throat, hissing out a fierce, “Shut up. Fucking filthy human.”

As soon as he saw the glint of the knife, Luke sprung into action. He didn’t miss a moment, long legs taking him to where Jakob had the girl, pulling his own knife out of the band of his pants from his lower back as his tall figure made his way over. Maybe it was too dark, or maybe Jakob was too focused on the girl in front of him, but he didn’t notice Luke make his way over. From over Jakob’s shoulder, he caught sight of the girl, dark brown eyes wide with paralyzing fear and dread as they met Luke’s ocean blue for a brief moment.

He didn’t look at her. Instead, grabbing Jakob’s shoulder with his free hand and slammed him against the very wall he had the girl, who let out a startled gasp as she fell to her knees once she was let go, Jakob’s knife clattering to the floor beside her. Part of Luke wanted to make sure she was okay, but he was too focused on Jakob, too busy feeling the adrenaline pumping his veins and the tightness in his jaw as he pressed the tip of his knife under Jakob’s chin, other hand fisting the front of his shirt as he made sure the wall was digging into Jakob’s back.

The lower level demon looked up at the tall prince, and for a moment Luke felt a rush of arrogance at the fear he saw in Jakob’s expression, all black eyes lowering to look away from Luke’s own blackened eyes. “Y-Your Highness, I was just—”

“Going against the King’s orders? I can see that,” Luke interrupted, voice smooth like velvet with words sharp like the knife he held. “You know the rules, Jakob; we don’t take souls that aren’t ready. Did you expect to get rewarded for your actions?” When Jakob didn’t answer, adam’s apple bobbing, Luke’s lips twitched. “Or did you think you could keep the souls for yourself? Find a way to make demons who’d follow your orders?”

The dark haired man’s head snapped up, black eyes blinking quickly and Luke knew he’d been right. That what a number of rogue demons tried to do. All failed. His father was the King for a reason; the only one who could hope to match his power was Luke himself, with the added juice of angel grace that ran through him. “N-No, I swear it, I wasn’t—”

“Sure you weren’t,” Luke rolled his eyes, dissolving back into his oceanic blue, no longer feeling the initial spot of dread he had been earlier. Not when he saw what Jakob was about to do to the girl, who Luke knew was still on the ground, too stunned in her fear and shock to move. Clicking his tongue, Luke gave an uncaring shrug of his shoulders. “You know the rules for disobedience.”

Panic set in as Jakob tried to push away and beg and plead, but Luke was too broad and strong to even budge. “No, no, no, please, sire. It won’t—”

His words were cut off by Luke piercing the tip of the knife through the bottom of his face without another moment’s hesitation, the death too quick for Jakob to even let out a scream as his body jerked with the electric heat of his demonic soul being burned under the skin. Luke watched blankly, letting go of Jakob before pulling out his knife, the silver tainted crimson as Jakob’s limp body fell to the ground with the heavy thud of a dead body, and Luke didn’t look at him after that. Not when he knew he’d be reminded of the previous human that no longer was present anymore.

“Oh, my God.”

The delicate, stunned whimper pulled Luke away from what just happened, blue eyes casting over to the girl who was slowly pushing herself to her feet, palming at the brick wall behind her to keep herself steady. Luke took a look at her, at her long brown hair and dark eyes that were glassy and widened with terror, gazing at the dead body. He could see the panic and fear and disbelief fighting on her pretty face, lower lip trembling as her hands did.

“You—you killed him,” she gasped out, voice shaking with whatever emotions she was struggling with, unable to make sense of what had just happened. “You just—you killed him.”

Luke wondered if she was seconds away from having a panic attack, wouldn’t be surprised if she did. “I did,” he cautiously answered, his blue eyes meeting her brown ones. Luke crouched down, rubbing the blade of his knife on Jakob’s shirt to wipe the blood off of it before getting to his feet and tucking it back into the waistband of his pants. He looked at the girl, her lips parted and chest heaving as she breathed heavily, blinking as if she couldn’t believe what had just happened. It wasn’t appropriate, by any means, but Luke couldn’t help but admire how gorgeous she was—even with fear written all over her face. He knew if he was a whole demon, like his father, he’d be smug in the terror she was expressing. But the grace he inherited from his mother had him also be slightly worried for this girl. “Are you okay?”

He asked that while taking a step towards her, and she sucked in a sharp breath and took a step back, stumbling on her unsteady feet although the wall saved her. “What just happened?” she asked, her voice not holding any sharpness or edge, instead coated with confused fright as she continued breathlessly, “Why—why were his eyes black? Why were yours?”

Luke pursed his lips, shaking his head to push back some golden curls brushing across his forehead. “Don’t think you’re ready to hear the answer to that, sweetheart.” She was shaking against the wall. “Go home.”

Truthfully, he wanted to truly make sure she was okay, if she’d be able to get home safely from here. But Luke had to report to his father as soon as got rid of Jakob, didn’t want to be late and use the excuse that he was checking up on a human to be thrown back in his face in contempt. Still, he gave himself a moment to admire the girl; wide doe eyes and long lashes and small compared to him. Beautiful, no doubt about it, but terrified.

Luke let out a breath as her eyes met his and then, with a blink of an eye, he was gone.

*****

NOW

“We shouldn’t be here, mate.”

Luke ignored Calum’s words, letting them get drowned out in the music of bar. Instead, he took sips of his beer, blue eyes glued to the girl behind the bar on the opposite side. His chest felt tight, like he couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t dare let it show on his face. Demon blood and angel grace ran through him but Luke felt empty; he’d had a taste of what it was like to feel complete, to have the unconditional love of someone no matter who or what he was. It was no longer there, not anymore, and it had been nearly a year and Luke still didn’t know how to live with himself.

Every day he fought the urge to turn into his father; to let his rage and heartbreak consume him and live up to the Prince of Hell title he held. And every day, he was reminded of his mother, of her, and fought to keep any semblance of the angelic part of his soul he possessed. Because he knew the only two important women that had existed in his life wouldn’t want that. And love was so much greater than vengeance.

He knew love to be beautiful, had experienced it. But right now, it was felt more twisted than any demon soul he’s seen.

Because he was watching the love of his life, smiling and talking to those around her as she served them drinks, the sound of her melodic laugh that spread a warmth across Luke’s skin drowned out by the music playing throughout the place. Even from where he sat, he could catch the way her dark eyes were glimmering against the colorful lights of the bar, but nothing was brighter than the breathtaking smile on her face.

Luke pushed himself into a proper seating position, watching with familiarity as Tameera bid goodbye to the two other bartenders behind the bar as she picked up her purse and tips for the night. She waved, walking around, and Luke watched with a shattering grip on the glass he held as she smiled up at the dirty blonde haired bloke who wrapped an arm around her neck to pull her close and press a kiss to her lips.

The fire was burning in his veins, a heart wrenching and nauseating twist in his guts at the sight of his girl kissing some pathetic human—Luke wasn’t sure if that thought was concocted through pained jealousy or because his father’s influence was shining through. Luke was well aware there’d be a good chance of seeing Tameera with her boyfriend, but opted to come to her place of work anyway. Maybe the demonic part of him had potential to be a torturer, after all.

His fiery blue eyes trailed after them through the thin crowd of people, unable to look away as they approached the door, and just before they stepped out, Luke caught sight of something falling out of Tameera’s bag. Her lucky bag, with rips sewn together yet things still managed to fall through.

Slamming his empty glass on the table, Luke shot up to his feet. “Where the hell are you going?” Calum demanded, watching as his friend began walking away.

Luke grunted a noncommittal, “Be right back,” before going towards the door Tameera had just walked out of, bending down to pick up the tube of chapstick that had fallen. Luke held it between his fingers for a moment, throat tightening as he could practically taste the sweet strawberry flavor he loved kissing off.

With a clench of his jaw, Luke stepped out of the bar without sparing a glance to the bouncer, looking down the sidewalk to catch sight of Tameera walking away, her left arm looped around the waist of the guy, Luke’s muscles tensing at the sight of his arm around her shoulders. Fuck, he felt like he was on fire and he couldn’t do anything about it.

He knew that he shouldn’t; knew that if he was found out he was risking both his and Tameera’s lives. But even Luke had to admit that he was selfish, that the desire of his blue eyes finally looking into her brown ones after almost a year was aching his bones.

“Excuse me!” Luke felt his breath stall as Tameera stopped, his eyes blind to anyone but her as she looked over her shoulder and her eyes, for the first time in too long, met his. The air rushed out of his lungs as she looked at him, the twist in his chest only tightening when there was no ounce of recognition that flashed through her pretty brown eyes. She gazed at him curiously as he took the few steps closer to her, his leather jacket protecting him from the cool breeze as his curls danced in the wind. He held his hand out. “I think you dropped this.”

Tameera’s eyes flickered to Luke’s hand, eyebrows shooting up at the sight of her beloved chapstick in his grasp. Luke’s heart thundered as she slowly took it from him. “Oh God, thank you,” she instantly sounded, lips quirking into the smile that swept Luke off his feet. “I didn’t even realize I dropped it.”

Her fingers brushed Luke’s as she took the chapstick from him, and he swallowed the spark of electricity he felt ignite in his skin at the slightest of touches. Luke quickly shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket as the guy next to Tameera chuckled slightly. “You’ve no idea how much you just saved her life. She can’t live without it.”

Luke’s jaw clenched, lips pursing as he stopped himself from telling the guy that he knew exactly how much Tameera loved that chapstick, that he’s kissed it off her lips just for her to reapply it. He also fought the animalistic urge to pull out his knife and rip through the guy’s skin, squaring and tensing his shoulders to keep himself from doing anything he’d regret. No doubt if there was no angel grace running through him, traits that were made to protect humans, Luke would have no trouble in just killing the man right then and there.

But the first time he met Tameera, he’d killed someone. Luke didn’t want to have the same first impression again.

“It’s no problem,” Luke forced out through a tight lipped smile, blue eyes flickering to meet Tameera’s brown once more.

Suddenly he noticed the way her eyebrows furrowed together slightly, eyes narrowing a bit as she tilted her head, gazing at him as if she was trying to figure something out. Luke looked at her, feeling his throat dry as she carefully asked, “Have we met before? You look familiar.”

Fuck, how badly did he want to tell her that he was the one she loved, not the bloke her arm was around. It physically ached to not tell her the truth, to watch her look at him like she has no clue who he is. And she doesn’t, and that’s not her fault. It’s on him, and it made his eyes burn with the tears this body possessed but an angel and demon were incapable of shedding. Still, he had to fight to keep the utter heartbreak off his face.

So Luke fisted his hands in his pockets, forcing his lips to quirk in a dismissing smile as he shrugged his broad shoulders. “Probably seen me ’round your bar, ‘s all.”

Lies, lies, lies.

But she seemed to buy it, because why wouldn’t she? She saw loads of faces working the bar, couldn’t really remember all of them but always had a sense of familiarity. So Tameera smiled, nodding as she said, “Yeah, probably.” Then she waved her chapstick around. “Thanks for this. Your next drink will be on me,” she added with a light giggle that had Luke’s stomach dropping.

All he could do was nod. All he could do was watch as she turned around and walked down the sidewalk, arm once again around the guy she was leaning into. All he could do was feel the fire burning his veins and making him flush, and mourn over the fact that the only woman he’s ever loved had no idea who he was.

*****

THEN

“Your finest bourbon, please.”

He watched, feeling both smug and amused, as startled recognition flashed across the girl’s brown eyes when she caught a look at the new arrival on the other side of the bar, sitting at the end of it. She gaped at him, full pink lips parting after her throat worked to swallow down the lump that had formed. Luke wondered what was racing through her mind as she stared at him, no doubt thinking of the first time she had seen him; black eyes after killing someone right in front of her and disappearing before her eyes. Wondered if she told anyone, wondered if she’d made sense of any of it.

“You’re—you—” she stammered, the shock, disbelief, fright and nervousness all together quite clear on her face and stuttering voice.

“I’m Luke,” he introduced himself smoothly, although he knew she hadn’t asked for his name. He crossed his arms on the bar top, leaning forward as his bright blue eyes took her in. “Nice to meet you—” His eyes flashed to the nametag she wore before his lips curled upwards, a hint of a dimple in view. “—Tameera.”

He wanted to laugh, biting the inside of his cheek. Of course her name meant angel in Arabic. Of course someone with a name as pretty to match her face would be the one to catch Luke’s attention. How fucking fitting.

“I’ll just—I’ll get your drink,” she finally said, obviously flustered as she went to make his drink.

Luke knew she could feel his eyes on her, watching her every move from pulling out a glass to grabbing a bottle and pouring the drink before placing it in front of him as he paid for it. He kept his gaze on her, picking up the glass and taking a sip of it, peering at her over the rim of the glass, lips curling as she looked right back. His presence was making her nervous and scared but she was still so achingly curious.

“What’s up, sweetheart?” Luke hummed, lowering the glass and tilting his head up. “Never believed in angels and demons?”

And, oh, how in six words did he open her life to so much more.

*****

NOW

“You’re making this way harder for you than it already is.”

Luke’s jaw clenched, feeling the familiar burn in his eyes and nose that always presented as a prologue to human tears. He always thought he was stronger than this, but being with Tameera had changed him. She’d humanized him in the year they spent together, made him see the beauty in earth and in humans just like his mum always had. Every time the darker, angrier part of him wanted to use the knife he always kept on the next person who laid eyes on him, the part of him that was made entirely up of his mother reminded him to keep himself in check. And the entirety of him that was in love with Tameera agreed.

Shit, he missed the lightness he felt when he was with Tameera. He wanted it back.

“You think I don’t know that?” Luke responded, his voice quiet. “It’s been a year. I haven’t seen her and I miss her.”

Ashton, an angel and one of Luke’s closest and oldest friends, let out a sigh. When everything happened, Luke had asked Ashton to keep an eye on Tameera, to make sure she was okay, and Ashton didn’t hesitate on agreeing. He’d never seen Luke so wrapped up in someone before, knew that his friend had been in indescribable pain for the past year and the least he could do was make sure no harm came to the woman Luke loved. But seeing him hurt sat heavily on Ashton, wishing he could do more than what he was.

“If you father finds out—”

“I know,” Luke cut in, voice sharp. But his gaze never wavered. It remained on the restaurant across the street, looking through the window where Tameera sat with her boyfriend—Noah, he’d learned his name from Ashton—as they enjoyed a date night. The sight was disgusting and wrong. “If he finds out, I’ll take care of him.” Luke’s expression darkened, lips curling into a sneer. “Like I should’ve in the first fuckin’ place.”

Ashton let out a breath, looking at Luke in mild incredulity. “What’re you gonna do—kill the King of Hell? Easier said than done, man.”

Luke was well aware he was talking about killing his own father, but he’d accepted a long time ago that his dad was a king first and father second. Any trace of humanity he could’ve possibly had left was gone with the death of Luke’s mother, and any respect and love Luke had for him had disappeared from existence when he took Tameera from him.

He was just grateful he hadn’t killed her.

“I hate that you’re hurting yourself watching her be happy with someone else.”

Luke swallowed, eyes on the smile on Tameera’s face as she laughed at something Noah said, all the way across the street in a romantic restaurant with someone that wasn’t him. His muscles ached, as if he was being crushed, watching her look at someone else with a look that had been reserved for him for so long. Watching her smile at someone else, so lovingly like he hung the fucking moon and stars felt as though strikes were being thrown at his very soul.

He knew this was better than her being dead, because that had definitely been the alternative. He much fucking rather her be alive and breathing than her body six feet underground and soul above the clouds. But how was he supposed to live with her living her life and not knowing who he was anymore? Every moment and memory they shared was constantly playing through Luke’s head like a movie, forever living through the life he had with her for a year. And out of the hundreds of years he’d been alive, that one year was everything. Nothing could fucking compare. Tameera had been, and still was, everything to him, and he had been the same for her.

It wasn’t fair he could remember every single second and still be a stranger in her eyes.

In the quiet of the night where they sat on the bench, Luke took a breath. He watched the girl he knew to be the love of his life, and allowed himself to give into the darker side that existed for a moment as he breathed, “I hate that she’s happy with someone else.”

*****

THEN

When he appeared on her couch right as she entered her living room, Luke was almost proud that Tameera didn’t jump at the sight of him anymore. She hadn’t for a few months now, used to him appearing and disappearing without warning, but Luke saw the way her expression dropped when she looked at the state he was in.

“Are you okay?” she asked, brown eyes widened with worry as she approached him quickly, crouching in front him with her hands on his knees. She took in the cut on his right cheekbone, right below his eyes, gaze also dropping to the red rawness on his knuckles. He didn’t seemed to be anymore injured than that, fortunately, but that didn’t mean Tameera wasn’t still worried. “Did you get him?”

Luke’s lips quirked upwards in a soft smirk as he gazed down at her, feeling relaxed just by being in her apartment, in her presence. It smelled like apples, courtesy of the wax melt she put on, the scent familiar and, truthfully, homelike. “Yeah, I got him,” Luke confirmed, referring to yet another rogue demon he had to get rid of. After reporting to his father and being dismissed, Luke headed straight to Tameera. “Had some fight in him, but nothin’ I can’t handle.”

The concern was still present in her warm eyes, but Tameera smiled nonetheless before her finger grazed his black button down. “Your shirt’s ripped.”

Luke glanced down, catching sight of the torn through material which had gotten caught by the fucker’s blade, though he didn’t cut Luke. “Yeah,” he sighed before leaning forward and pressing his lips to Tameera’s forehead. “I’m gonna change real quick.”

He entered Tameera’s bedroom, making his way to the dresser and opening the drawer that held his clothes. Luke changed into a pair of sweats, deciding to forgo a shirt as the necklaces he wore felt cool against his bare chest, making his way out of the room and smiling briefly at the framed picture at Tameera’s bedside. It was a picture of the two of them, taken last month as they smiled like a pair of lovesick idiots at the camera. Because that’s what they were and Luke was okay with it. The only other person he’d ever loved was his mother, and he knew she’d be happy to know that he found something deep and honest and pure with Tameera.

“Come here,” he sighed once he neared her, pulling her towards him and pressing his lips to hers.

Luke felt her melt in his grasp, her lips responding immediately as her arms looped around his neck, pulling him close while also standing on her toes to meet his above average height. He smirked against her lips, feeling the familiar electric waves rush through his body whenever she was this close, using his hands to pick her up by her bare thighs and effortlessly lay her down on the couch behind her.

His tall, broad body hovered over Tameera’s, resting between her legs as he deepened the kiss, tongue exploring every inch of her inviting mouth as his golden curls brushed against her face. Her hands cupped Luke’s jaw, the scruff he sported tickling her skin wonderfully and the pendants of his dangling necklaces resting on her chest. The way Tameera’s lips moved, her kisses, were dizzying as Luke kept the pace slow; lazy and passionate all at the same time as his fingers trailed up the sides of her legs, biting down on her lower lip when he realized she decided to go completely bare under one of his black tees she’d stolen. Luke loved the way it hung off her frame, his body much taller and broader than hers, worn like a dress. But he also loved taking it off.

“Nothin’ on under, huh?” Luke breathed against her neck, hands sliding up to grip her sides, thumbs brushing her ribs under breasts as his lips and teeth and scruff worked their magic on her skin. She felt so wonderfully warm under him. “My angel’s makin’ things easy for me.”

Luke felt Tameera thread her fingers through his curls, her grip tight and needy and delicious. He could nearly feel her heart pounding beneath him, felt himself harden under his loose sweatpants as she tilted her head to give him more access to her skin. “You’re the angel here, Lu.”

He let out a quiet laugh, kissing her skin after making sure to leave his marks, feather light kisses trailing up her jaw before his lips found hers once more. “Only half.”

Tameera tilted her head to press her lips more into his, the kiss dizzying and fiery and desperate with want. They pulled away and she looked up at him with hooded brown eyes, her breathing heavy as he admired her lips, pinker than usual from all their kissing, wanting to just slant his lips over hers once more. One of her hands trailed down from the back of his head and Luke felt his muscles tighten at the sensation of her nails teasing down his back, blue eyes briefly flashing black as he looked down at her.

Luke saw the small smirk that pulled at her lips at the sight of his completely black eyes, brushing her lips against his as she spoke, “Show me what the other half’s capable of.”

Oh, he didn’t need to be told twice.

*****

NOW

When Luke got the message from Ashton, a simple Get to Tameera’s apartment now, Luke felt as though he was suddenly being pushed to the ground, the weight of absolutely nothing crushing him. He read the five word text over and over again before hastily shoving his phone in the pocket of his pants and running his fingers through his blonde hair before making his way to the exit.

“Back to earth so soon?”

The voice of his father stopped him in his tracks, momentarily forgetting he was still in the King of Hell’s throne room, with the King himself sitting on the chair up ahead. Luke’s jaw clenched, wanting to be out of there, but forced himself to turn and look at his father. “Yes.” No explanation, just a one word answer.

His father raised an eyebrow. “For what?” He tilted his head, blue eyes narrowing. “Are you off to see that human of yours?”

Warm brown eyes and a breathtaking smile flashed across Luke’s mind, but he didn’t dare let himself falter, holding his hands in front of him. “I haven’t seen her in a year,” he lied smoothly, aware the truth wouldn’t bode well for both him and Tameera. “Was just gonna go keep Cal some company.”

Luke didn’t waver as his father peered at him, trying to find any hints of lies or deceit that Luke expertly kept covered. Then the King nodded, speaking with a wave of his hand, “You’re dismissed.”

Luke made sure he didn’t just run out of there, keeping his pace casual. But once he was out of his father’s sight, Luke disappeared from the area, only to reappear a second later in Tameera’s living room.

His chest clenched as he stood in the familiar room, a place he hadn’t been in a year. Everything looked the same, save for a few plants on the windowsill and more books filling up the bookshelf. Luke breathed in, eyes closing briefly at the scent of apples wafting through his nose, a nostalgic pang resonating throughout his body. He hadn’t been here for a year, but it still felt like home. Still felt like a place where he belonged.

There were so many memories here; nights they spent watching whatever show Tameera was in the mood for, eating food that Luke couldn’t necessarily taste or needed to stay satiated like humans did, and spending even more time kissing, hugging, holding, and loving on each other. Times they spent in content bliss before everything went to shit. The last time he was here was a bitter, heart wrenching memory he hated, but Luke tried to push the prevalent thoughts away.

“Thank God you’re here.”

Luke turned to see Ashton appear from the hallway that led to Tameera’s room, a frown appearing on the blue eyed man’s face as he automatically said, “God had nothin’ to do with it. What’s going on? Why’d you call me here?”

It was dangerous for him to be near Tameera, much less her apartment, and Luke knew Ashton knew that. But his text had rattled Luke which is why he showed up without much of a thought, unsure of what the issue was. “There’s a problem which, I mean, can be solved fairly easily but I thought you’d want to know before I did anything else,” Ashton quickly rushed out, words jumbled together that it took Luke a moment to figure out what he was saying.

“A problem?” His skin flushed, hot and angry and, honestly, a bit scared. “What kind of problem?”

“Tameera was in an accident.” Luke’s breath stilled, blue eyes fierce and wide as everything seemed to come to a stop around him. An accident? She’d gotten hurt? Luke felt his tight throat dry up, chest aching painfully at the thought of her being taken from him, a fear he’s had for too long. He couldn’t breathe. That is, until Ashton spoke up again. “But she’s okay. I got to her, brought her here and healed her. She’s fine.”

Luke’s head was spinning, gaping at Ashton. “Then what the fuck’s the problem?” he demanded, voice harsh and impatient.

Ashton didn’t seem to fazed. “In the process of healing her injuries, I accidentally, uh, undid what your dad did to her.” Luke’s lips parted, blue eyes taking in the apologetic expression of the hazel eyed angel, whose eyebrows were drawn together in conflict. Luke could feel every drop of blood and grace running through his veins as Ashton let out an apologetic breath. “Luke, she remembers everything.”

There was a physical force behind Ashton’s words, pushing Luke back a few stumbling steps, eyes growing wide and lips parting in disbelief. Because that’s all he felt. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved, or nervous, or scared, or dreading the fact that the love of his life remembered every single moment the two of them shared, after a year of being the only one living through those times over and over again.

A slow, deep breath escaped Luke as he looked away from Ashton’s gaze and settled to peering at the floor, eyes unfocused as he processed this information. Luke was aware that he had the power of undoing his father’s work on Tameera, but he just couldn’t risk her life on going behind the King’s back and getting her memories back. The thought of losing her permanently haunted him. He was never one to sleep, but his eyes had always comfortably closed when he was in bed with Tameera, and after everything, Luke didn’t even remember what it was like laying on a bed.

But she remembered. Every single thing, she was made aware of. How was he supposed to—

“Luke.”

He hadn’t even finished processing everything when the sound of her voice snapped his head up, blue eyes zeroing in on the girl at the end of the hall. Their eyes met, and Luke instantly saw every ounce of recognition swirling in them; saw it behind the glassy tears that gathered. Saw the joy and relief and love that warmed those brown eyes he was so taken with.

Suddenly, it was like it was just the two of them in the room. Suddenly, everything was out the window because all Luke could focus on was her; this brown haired, dark eyed beauty who was looking at him like she knew exactly who he was, because she did. It was overwhelming, breathtaking, to see her finally look at him the way she once used to, no longer suppressed by the King of Hell’s magic that had been forced upon her. She was there. She remembered. And she was making her way towards him.

Ashton stepped to the side, rubbing a hand down his face, as Luke stared ahead, stunned and unmoving and completely lost in the woman approaching him. Tameera’s dark eyes were wide, scared and confused and filled with recognition as she gasped out a choked, “Luke.”

Her arms were around him in the next second, looping around his neck like they used to all the time as she pulled him down, and it was the first touch that had him snapping back into action, pulling him into reality. A shuddering breath escaped him, eyes clenching shut as his own arms hugged her waist, keeping her as close to him as possible, inhaling her familiar scent and feeling how her body perfectly fit with his.

He hugged her tightly, closely, head spinning as he was finally able to touch her, to feel her against him. Luke had gone so long without her, the past year stretching to be an eternity when he’s already liked hundreds of years, that being in her embrace felt like coming home.

“Oh, my God, I remember,” Tameera breathed, her voice shaking as her body shook in his hold, hands pressing into his back to keep him against her, as if she was afraid of letting go. Luke understood. “I remember you. I remember everything.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” Luke murmured, voice thick as he spoke through a throat too tight with overwhelmed emotions. Love and relief, that’s all he could feel, that’s all he wanted to feel in this moment. Fuck everything else. He had her in his arms once more, and feeling her against him was everything. “I missed you,” he whispered, burying his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her sweet scent. “You’ve no idea how much I missed you.”

She let out a small sob, the sound tightening Luke’s chest painfully as it was muffled against his shoulder. “I missed you, too.” Tameera pulled away, and Luke’s hands instantly went to cup her cheeks, thumbs brushing at the tears freely escaping her dark eyes. Her face was flushed with her cries, lips trembling as her hands grasped his wrists. “I—I know I didn’t remember you but I just—I missed you. So much.”

“I know, baby, I know,” Luke assured quietly, pressing his forehead to hers, hands still on her face. His blue eyes melted into her brown ones, eyebrows drawing together apologetically as his lips parted to take a breath. “I love you, Meera. I love you, and I’m so fucking sorry about everything. I should’ve tried harder to protect you. Should’ve fought to keep your memories—”

“No, stop,” Tameera shook her head, closing her eyes before she looked at him. Her gaze trailed over Luke’s face, angelic in every aspect with his bright blue eyes and golden hair that reminded her of a halo. She committed him to memory in that moment, finally seeing and recognizing him after so long leaving her heart a thundering mess. It hurt how much she missed him. How much she loved him. “You have nothing to apologize for, okay?” She squeezed his wrists, breathing deeply. “Just—please don’t take my memories away again. Please. I can’t lose you again.”

The desperation that cracked her voice had Luke’s throat working, a heaviness settling on his shoulders as he peered at the woman he held. This beautiful, wonderful woman who didn’t deserve to live a year of a lie, who deserved someone so much better than his half angel, half demon self. Someone who wouldn’t put her life in danger.

All of these realizations were coming from the angelic, moral part of his soul. The demonized, selfish part pushed them all away, the notion that Tameera was his to love and cherish setting itself in stone. “I won’t, darling, I promise you,” Luke reassured her, hands still cupping her face. He saw some of the relief soften her dark eyes. He meant his words. He would be damned if he let someone erase her memories again, if they had to go through losing each other like that once more. This time, Luke was determined to protect her from his father, to make sure the two of them, especially her, would safe from getting killed or getting their memories erased.

Both of them had long forgotten about the angel in the room as Tameera tilted her head to capture Luke’s lips in a desperate, much awaited kiss that sent shocks through their veins. Her hands familiarly got lost in his blonde curls, and Luke couldn’t help but sigh against her as he returned the kiss just as eagerly.

He was home, and he was determined to protect it.

*****

THEN

His lips trailed the smooth skin of her neck, feeling his mouth quirk into a smile as she let out a melodic giggle at the feel of his scruff tickling her. Luke peeked up, catching sight of the two of them in the reflection in the mirror in front of them. They stood at her bathroom sink, a towel covering her up while another was wrapped around Luke’s hips, their skin damp and hair wet from the steamy shower they just shared.

He stood behind Tameera, but the sight of her was damn near ethereal; dark hair falling down her back, brown skin flushed a pretty pink from the hot shower, and of course purpling marks decorating her neck, courtesy of Luke’s incapability of keeping his mouth off of her. She looked bare and beautiful, a sight Luke considered himself to be blessed with, constantly in awe of how gorgeous she was and how she was all his.

A whole year of her did he get to experience. A whole year of her accepting him for who and what he is, for loving him all the same. And he wanted endless more.

“What’re you thinking about?” Tameera’s soft, lilting voice pulled him out of his thoughts, her left hand reaching up to brush her knuckles against his cheek.

Luke’s chin remained resting on her shoulder, their gazes meeting through the reflection. “You,” he answered truthfully, quietly. Then he smirked fondly. “And how you’re the best creation God ever came up with.”

The flush on her face darkened at his words, the apples of her cheeks prominent as she pressed her lips together to suppress the smile threatening to widen, which only made Luke grin. Fuck, she was adorable. “Can I be stupidly cheesy for a second?” Tameera murmured, gaze shyly meeting his in the mirror.

Luke chuckled shortly, pressing a kiss to her skin. “Of course, love.”

He watched the way her throat worked as she considered her words for a moment, before finally uttering them. “I never really, like, believed in soulmates or anything. But then you showed up, and along with everything else told me that souls are real. And it made me realize. . .” Luke waited, his blue eyes welcoming and kind and everything they weren’t for anyone else. Tameera’s finger brushed along his cheek, smiling shyly. “Made me realize that the existence of soulmates could be true. And that if they are, then I think you’re definitely mine.”

Luke’s lips parted at her words, at the sheepish blush on her cheeks and smile on her face, and if Luke was capable of it he was embarrassed to admit that he would’ve cried at the pure honesty in Tameera’s words. Here she was, gazing at him with a look of unadulterated love he’s never experience before, admitting to him that she believed the two of them belonged together. That of the hundreds of years Luke’s been around, the two of them meeting hadn’t happened by chance—that it was meant to be.

Telling him that she loved him, for everything that he was, but also because he was just Luke. Not an angel, or a demon, or the Prince of Hell—just Luke. And that was his favorite person to be.

Turning her around in his arms, Luke tucked a damp strand of her dark hair behind her ear, finger grazing her cheek as she looked up at him. He damn near melted on the spot at the sight of her, especially when she smiled and murmured, “I love you.”

Luke pressed his lips to hers, soft and slow. “I love you more.”

After changing into comfortable clothes, Tameera went to the kitchen to make herself some dinner while Luke pulled on his own clothes. But it wasn’t until he was pulling on his T-shirt did he hear the crash of what sounded like a plate shattering, freezing in the middle of Tameera’s room before his feet were moving without a thought.

He frowned, bare feet padding on the hardwood floor as he left the room and walked down the hallway. “Meera, babe, are you o—”

Luke froze, feeling every cell in his body come to a startling halt at the sight in front of him. He was well aware the utter horror was loud and clear in his expression, eyes wide and lips parted and muscles painfully tense. How could he not be, with Tameera standing there with a terrified look on her face, his father standing right behind her, one arm across her collarbones and the other hand holding the blade of his knife to her throat.

The kind of fear that paralyzed him in this moment—Luke had never felt it before. Never wanted to feel anything like it, and wanted to make sure Tameera never felt it either.

“So this is where you run off to,” his father’s too calm voice spoke, eyes flashing all red as opposed to a normal demon’s all black, seeing as he was the King of Hell. “Getting yourself involved with a human.”

He spat out the last word, as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth, and Luke’s throat worked. His eyes were on Tameera, whose lower lip was trembling and glassy eyes were looking at Luke, silently pleading him for help. Fuck, Luke needed to get her out of his father’s grasp, to get her away from that fucking knife. But he knew, one step forward and his father wouldn’t hesitate on using it on her.

Luke was at a loss; at a terrifying, raging loss as his mind worked overtime on figuring out what the hell to do. He was fast, but the edge of his father’s blade was right at Tameera’s throat and a single movement from him would have it splitting open, and there was no fucking way in hell Luke was risking that. He tried to ignore the tightness in his chest and how he felt his stomach drop heavily, feeling so helpless in this moment as the woman he loved looked so utterly terrified in front of him.

“Please,” Luke spoke up, his voice quiet and unsteady, adam’s apple working. “Let her go. She’s—she’s innocent.”

“She’s a distraction,” his father snapped, red eyes narrowing as he tightened his grip on Tameera, who let out a soft whimper that had Luke’s hands clenching into fists. “You’re the fucking Prince of Hell, Luke. No son of mine will be fraternizing with human filth.”

His words were accompanied by pressing the blade against Tameera’s skin, causing her to tilt her head back in an attempt to push away from it, eyes squeezing shut as she let out a pained cry. “No, stop!” Luke shouted, eyes widening as he took a step forward. He felt dizzy with anger and terror, wishing he never put Tameera in this position, never put her life in danger. He couldn’t even protect her from his own father. Luke wanted his lower lip to stop quivering, but he’d already shown how much Tameera meant to him, and that was a sign of weakness in the eyes of the king. “I’ll—I’ll do whatever you want, okay? Just don’t—don’t hurt her. Let her go and I’ll do whatever the fuck you want.”

Tameera’s eyes opened, tears wetting her cheeks as she sobbed out a soft, small, “Luke.”

Eyebrows drawn upwards and lips pressed together, Luke offered his girl a reassuring smile, wishing he appeared more convincing. Fuck, he couldn’t believe he let this happen. His damp hair sticking to his skin seemed to be sending shivers down his spine, joining in on the panic chilling him.

“The way I see it, you’ve got two options, son,” his father spoke up, still holding Tameera in his grasp, eyes still the same bloody red. He tilted his head, gazing down at the girl with a cool gaze that burned Luke with the desire to rip his eyes out. “I either kill this human of yours.” Luke’s lips curled in a sneer as Tameera inhaled sharply. “Or I rid of her memories of you and you swear to keep your distance, and if you fail I will kill her. The choice is yours.”

The air rushed out of Luke’s lungs and choked him, widened eyes gaping at his father as he made sense of the words that had just been uttered. Keeping her alive was the only option, it wasn’t even a question. But the mere thought of Tameera not remembering Luke, not remembering the moments they’ve shared together in the last year, had Luke feeling a kind of physical pain that was a thousand times worse than getting punched or kicked or stabbed.

But the thought of Tameera being dead was downright destructive. The thought of her being killed because of him actually did make Luke want to throw up like a human. It made him tremble and dizzy and flush with grief and rage he wished to take out on his father.

And as much as Luke despised this situation, hated himself for putting Tameera in this kind of danger and hated that look of complete fear on her face, he knew her being alive and having no remembrance of him was better than her being dead. Far better.

“Let me say goodbye,” Luke choked out, his blue eyes meeting Tameera’s widened brown ones, voice cracking as he continued, “Before you take her memories.”

Tameera’s jaw dropped with a gasp, stumbling when her father pushed her away from him without a word. Luke met her halfway, hands steadying her by grasping her shoulders before coming up to cup her jaw. “Luke, what’re you doing?” Tameera shook her head, brown eyes never ceasing the tears that gathered and fell. Her own hands were fisting his shirt, pulling him towards her as she looked at him with a desperation that had something shattering in his chest. “I can’t lose you, please. This isn’t—”

“It’s the only way, Meera,” Luke whispered, cutting her off with a defeated shake of his head, inhaling sharply when her grip on him tightened and a new wave of tears leaked out of her eyes. Shit, she was breaking him. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. His palms were on her cheeks, fingers tangling into her damp hair as he pressed his forehead to hers. Luke felt his eyes and nose burning, knew it was because he wanted to fucking cry; the last time he did so when his mother died. And then never again. Until now. “I love you, angel.” His blue eyes looked into her dark ones, throat tight at the fear and sadness and distraught he could see. “You make me the best version of myself and I can never thank you enough for it. You’re everything to me.”

A heartbroken sob escaped her, an emptiness in her chest as she looked at the golden, bright man in front of her, who had scars of his own but was the most beautiful person she’s ever met. And loved. “You’re everything to me, too,” she whispered brokenly, tasting the salt of her tears. “Even if I don’t remember, you need to, okay? You need to remember that I love you, Luke. So much.”

He hated this. He hated this so much, and if there was ever any trace of humanity left in his father, Luke knew for a fact that it was gone now.

He pressed his lips to Tameera’s, tasting the salt of her tears and the strawberry chapstick, the kiss desperate and loving and utterly heartbreaking. Luke had no idea how he would live without this, without her. Had no idea if he was even capable of it. He knew, before it’s even happened, that life without Tameera would go back to only consisting of doing his father’s bidding, mindlessly running around and taking care of any demon that decided to go rogue. Without Tameera, life would have no meaning. Just like the previous hundred or so years of his life.

It was a snap of his father’s fingers, and then they were gone.

The memories, as well as Luke.

*****

NOW

“I know I didn’t remember you this past year and was with someone else, but I just—I still missed you, Lu.”

He gazed up at her, lazy with a small smile on his lips. Luke’s head was tilted back on the couch, hands gently on Tameera’s hips as she straddled his lap, the tip of her finger tracing the line of his jaw, nose, and cheekbones lightly. Her left hand was at the top of his head, fingers tangling and pushing back his curls away from his face—a face she couldn’t stop gazing at, recommitting to memory. Luke watched her watch him, adam’s apple bobbing at the feel of her finger tracing his features, eyes fluttering at the sensation of her playing with his hair.

With her, he was at his calmest. With her, he wasn’t an angel or a demon or the prince of the damned. He was just Luke.

“I know, darling,” he murmured, hand raising to graze her cheeks, his rings cooling her skin. Luke looked at her, blue eyes intensely taking in every detail of her face, as if he’d ever forget them. His thumb softly grazed her lower lip, adding, “There wasn’t a single day I didn’t think about you. Just like you said, I remembered everything. Never forgot.”

The corners of Tameera’s lips twitched upwards, her own gaze dropping to his lips before a small frown scrunched at her eyebrows. In a dejected mumble, she added, “I hate that I can’t say the same thing.”

An empathetic frown drew Luke’s eyebrows together, knowing it wasn’t her fault that he never crossed her mind this last year. It was his. “D’you blame me?” Luke questioned, hands returning to her hips. “Are you angry with me for what happened?”

He wouldn’t blame her if she was. It was because of him that she was nearly killed by his father in the first place, it was because of his love for her that got them in this situation. “No, of course not,” Tameera answered with a frown and a shake of her head. Her hands rested on the sides of his neck, thumbs grazing his jaw. “You did it to protect me, Lu. How can I ever be mad at you for that?”

Luke took a breath, relief overwhelming him as a small smile tilted at his lips, hinting at his dimples. It never failed to amaze him how fucking wonderful Tameera was. In every aspect. The kindest, most stunning soul and she was all his.

“What about your father?” she questioned quietly, eyes meeting his, and Luke hated the spark of fear he noticed in her brown irises. “What if he finds out about us again?”

His jaw clenched at the thought of that. “I’ll take care of him.”

Tameera shot him a look. “I know you mean you’re gonna kill him. Are you sure? He’s your father, Luke.”

“He threatened to kill you. He erased your memories,” Luke shot back, his grip on her hips tightening as his face contorted into a glare, not exactly aimed at her rather than the topic of conversation. “As long as he’s alive, you’re going to be in danger, Meera, because if he can’t kill you himself he’ll sure as hell send others after you.” He swallowed, letting out a sharp breath. “When he dies, I become the King, and no demon will go after you. If they so much as think about it, I’ll get rid of them. There’s no fucking question about it.”

Tameera took a breath, dark eyes looking him over, catching no sight of remorse or deceit or anything of the sort. He was being completely honest, determined to make sure she was safe and determined to be rid of his father. Tameera hated that this was something Luke felt that he had to do, to kill his own father just so she was safe. She felt guilty, but she also remembered all of the things Luke’s told her about the King of Hell. He was a demon, after all; she wasn’t surprised there weren’t any good traits about him, and Tameera hated that Luke had to be around someone like that without his mother.

And yet, he still amazed her. Because he was someone so much better, carrying the traits of an angel rather than the burdens of a demon. Despite what Luke might say or think, Tameera knew that while he was the Prince of Hell, he was nowhere near as corrupt or hellish than any other demon she thought would be.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

Tameera gasped, shifting off of Luke’s lap and settling next to him, wide eyes on the men that appeared in her living room. Three of them, all tall and handsome, a brunette and two blondes, whom Tameera recognized immediately once her initial shock wore off at the surprise entrance. It was Ashton, the angel who saved her after the accident, Calum who was a demon who worked alongside Luke, and the last was Michael, another angel. Tameera had met all three of them when she and Luke got together last year, though they understandably didn’t drop by often. Ashton and Michael had been sweet, unsurprisingly, but Calum had at first intimidated the shit out of her; tall, dark and handsome with a face that just screamed not to be fucked with.

“What’s going on?” Luke questioned, frowning at the arrival of his three friends as he sat up.

“Hell is going to hell,” Calum informed factually.

Tameera frowned as Luke raised an eyebrow. “What’re you talking about?”

Ashton patted the green eyed blonde’s shoulder. “Michael, why don’t you tell Luke what happened?”

Both Tameera and Luke looked at the other angel, who pursed his lips. His expression was unreadable, but he took a breath before announcing, “Your father is dead. I killed him. I’m, uh, sorry?”

His last statement came out as more of a question, unsure if an apology was needed at all since he was aware of Luke’s relationship with his father, though feeling awkward if he didn’t say it. Both Luke and Tameera gaped at him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes widened and jaws unhinged as they processed the angel’s words.

It was silent for a moment as Tameera glanced at Luke, wondering what he was thinking as he stared at Michael, before asking, “What happened?”

There was no emotion in Luke’s voice as Tameera pulled her lower lip into her mouth. She wasn’t sure exactly how to feel; relieved that the one who was after her was gone, but conflicted because she didn’t know how Luke was feeling.

“He had a deal with some of the higher ups to return a few wrongfully collected souls,” Michael began. “I was sent to collect them, but he ambushed us with a few of his men. Ash showed up to help me out but ultimately. . . I drove the knife into him.” Michael raised his hand to scratch the back of his head, for the first time looking apologetic. “I’m sorry, man. I know he was your father and that you wanted to be the one to end it—”

“It’s fine.” Those two words took everyone off guard as they looked at Luke, every single gaze on him radiating worry and surprise as he frowned at nothing in particular. Then, Luke’s blue eyes looked at Michael. “I planned on being the one to kill him, yeah, but honestly. . . I don’t care who did it. As long as it got done.” His hand reached and grabbed Tameera’s, linking their fingers together as Luke smiled at their joined hands before his blue eyes met her dark ones, and the relief she saw on his face had her body relaxing. “Just wanted Meera to be safe.” He looked at Michael, smile widening. “Thanks to you, she will be.”

Michael’s lips parted in surprise at Luke’s words, before pressing them together in a small smile and offering a nod. As for Luke and Tameera, they both felt as though they could breathe again. The biggest threat that had been looming over their heads was gone, easily and without them having to do anything. And while Luke had, at first, wanted to be the end to his father’s story, he didn’t mind that it was Michael.

There was no remorse and sadness running through Luke’s veins. He had given up on his father long ago, had wanted nothing to do with him and only did his bidding to keep Tameera safe. But he was gone, and Luke felt nothing but relief that the love of his life was finally safe.

“You know what this means, right?” Calum spoke up, raspy voice catching everyone’s attention as he quirked a thick eyebrow at Luke. “The new king needs to make an appearance.”

Luke nodded. “I’ll be there in a minute.” Then he stood up, putting his hand out to Michael. “Thank you, Mike,” he added, tone sincere and grateful.

The angel let out a short chuckle before grasping Luke’s hand, giving it a firm shake before smirking, “Long live the King.”

A laugh escaped Luke after that, and then Michael, Ashton, and Calum were gone within a blink of an eye. Luke turned to Tameera, who was looking at him expectantly, and Luke offered her a hand. She took it and let him pull her up, pulling her close as he looked down at her. “I’m gonna be back in a few, yeah? Just gotta get everything in order and then I’m yours.”

Tameera smiled, nodding as she wrapped her arms around his waist, looking up at his pretty, angelic blue eyes. And as she looked into them, a thought crossed her mind, and Tameera wondered, “Do your eyes turn red now? Instead of black, like your father’s?”

Luke lifted his chin for a moment, before flashing his eyes. He watched as Tameera’s eyes widened, lips parting as she stared at him in wonder, fingers absently brushing against his temple near his right eye. She looked completely enthralled, not a single ounce of fear in her pretty brown eyes as he gazed at his newly red eyes. “You tell me.”

“Oh, wow,” Tameera breathed, the awe evident in her voice. The way she was looking at him, completely lost in what she was seeing, had Luke smirking smugly, especially when Tameera hummed, “Did you know red’s my favorite color?”

Luke scoffed, arms resting on her shoulders with his hands linking behind her head, eyes dissolving back into blue as he returned, “What don’t I know about you, sweetheart?”

Tameera rolled her dark eyes, knowing that he was right and cocky about it as she pressed her hands to his chest. “Whatever. Don’t you have demons to rule over?”

Luke let out a dramatic sigh that had Tameera smiling. “That, I do.” He looked down at her, at her pretty smile and kind eyes and kept her close. “But I’ll be back soon, hmm?” He felt the need to reassure her of his return, to make it clear that he was coming back and that nothing would keep them apart for too long. They’d lost a year and Luke was going to make sure they wouldn’t lose anymore.

“Okay,” Tameera nodded, understanding Luke’s desire to remind her. Then, she smiled, eyes glinting in the afternoon sun. “My boyfriend, the King of Hell. Has a nice ring to it.”

Luke laughed, airy and full of adoration for the brunette in front of him, inhaling her sweet scent as his lips curled into a smirk. “It does, doesn’t it?” Tameera giggled and Luke ducked his head to slant his lips over hers in a slow kiss, sucking on her lower lip before murmuring, “I’ll be back in a bit and you and me? We’re gonna have some fun, my queen.”

Tameera’s face flushed with heat, biting her lower lip as the smile spread across her mouth as she looked up at the tall blonde, brushing a golden curl out of Luke’s face as she murmured, “Come home soon.”

Home. Hell was his kingdom to rule, but Tameera was his home, and he would always come back to her.

tags: @crownedbyluke @rishlo @bitchinbabylon @ghostofcalum @dxmncalum @letsfxckindance @unsexilexi @calumthoodsyonce @irwinkitten @glitterprincelu @softforcal @hotmessmichael @astroashtonio @valentinelrh @meetashthere @roselukes @slimthicccal @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @grittyisathot @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you @soulmatecashton @babygirlcashton @biwriting @sublimehood @old-zeppelin-shirt @inlovehoodx @hereforlukescruff @poppedpins @aybbblondie @invisiblexcth @mysteriouslycali @jetblackyoungblood @5secondssofssummer @paqueretteash @kinglycalum @fucking5sos @ohhmuke @theagenderwhocriedwolf @akacalciumhood @bloodlinecal @wrappedaroundcal @heavenlyhemminqs @caelumhood @cathartichaoss @calumsmermaid @calumh-excess @xhaileyreneex @cxddlyash @emma070900 @complete-trash-101 @calntynes @lifeakaharry @empathycth @kinglyhemmings @andreabjoerg @rosecoloredash @cliffordcntrl @asht0ns-world @lipstickstainfading @sunnysidesblog @2k17muke @babyloncalm @kaxseychill @hearts-to-the-sky @cal-pal-cuddles @calistheloml @gettingjillywithit @5sos-stan4lyfe @flannelpunkcalum

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sunshineandfangs · 5 years

Note

Hey! Can you write a sequel to the one with Caroline writer and artist klaus . The one about seashell bra or something. Pls

Two part mini-sequel to قلم قدرتمندتر است second part will be a flash forward to some smut. (I wanted to put a read more but it’s broken?) Mini-sequel to Tragoudó (Deep Sea Fishing) can be found here

---

Caroline was still in awed, shock that her bat shit insane idea actually worked. And yet here she stood in front of the gallery that changed everything, several weeks after her last visit and significantly happier with her mother in full remission.

She could do without the feelings of awkward embarrassment though, knowing she had acted like a complete lunatic. Perhaps it was idiotic of her to come back and try to explain herself, well aware of just how insane her claims would sound. And even if he did believe her, what then?

Like yes, she tested her abilities extensively of course, she’s not an idiot! Some fucked up secret government experimentation or something wouldn’t be possible when she could just literally overwrite it. And thinking words in her head, even in complete sentences, wasn’t enough. She did have to write/type something so it wasn’t uncontrolled. (Thank god!)

But... Well it still all seemed so crazy. Even to her! The one living with the proof of everything! God, what was she doing? This was stupid, wasn’t it? Yeah, she should just go home and-

“You are aware you’re blocking the entrance?”

Caroline jumped and whirled around, frantic apologies dying on her lips as she processed just who was behind her. Yup, her luck was just fantastic. It was him. The person she both wanted to explain things to and avoid, never to be seen by him ever again ever.

Alas...

She tried to withhold her cringe, offering a smile that she had a feeling was more of a grimace.

“Um, could we talk? I know that you probably think I’m some sort of crazy person, and I’m so sorry that the last time I was here I all but had a meltdown-” She sucked in a breath, aware that she was starting to ramble and it definitely wasn’t helping her case. Exhaling, she started again, slower this time. “Right, sorry I realize that probably doesn’t lend credence to the idea that I’m not crazy. But yes, I would like the chance to explain. I totally understand if you’re not comfortable with that so just say the word and I’ll go.”

She felt a bit steadier as she met his gaze, the burning red blush and twitchy cringes gone from her face.

---

Klaus wasn’t sure why he said yes. By all rights he should throw the girl out, her behavior having been downright manic the last time he saw her. Perhaps it was because he still remembered the feeling he got when he first saw her, as if she was a true Muse out of legend. Regardless of reason, he did say yes, which was how he found himself sitting across from her in the gallery office, gaping at her rather unattractively.

With extreme effort, he managed to smooth his expression. “I certainly hope you have more proof then just this wild story.”

---

She considered it a win that Klaus was still talking to her, asking for proof rather than just kicking her out on the spot. Or worse.

“Well, I would be willing to write something out for you, something that you choose, so you can see if it happens. Then it just depends on how likely you are to chalk it up to coincidence.”

The man’s eyebrows were nearly in his hairline, but he seemed surprisingly willing to go along with it.

“...Alright then, sweetheart, write...”

--- SMUT Time Skip ---

Minor bondage and orgasm denial, some spanking

Caroline grinned as she offered Klaus her wrists, teasing him as he wrapped the black silk ties around them.

“We really save a fortune on our sex life, don’t we?”

He raised an eyebrow expression wry. “Quite. Although I don’t recall when unbreakable silk ties that double as orgasm control hit the market.”

She giggled, well aware it was true. Not only did they have a supernaturally fantastic collection of sex toys and gear, but also downright impossible pieces like the aforementioned silk ties. Unbreakable and inescapable except by safe word (said by either her or Klaus) that also prevent orgasm while in contact with a person’s skin.

Caroline was snapped out of her thoughts as Klaus tugged her to him, eliciting a slight moan from her as her bare nipples rubbed against the firm planes of his chest.

He nuzzled into her neck as he purred, “That’s more like it, love. For as delightful as I find your laughter, it’s not the sound I wish to hear from you right now.”

Klaus slowly walked her backward, brushing his hand teasingly against her thigh and ass, distracting her enough that she lost track of their location. He smirked when he tumbled her onto the bed, looping the loose fabric around the temporary hook in their headboard.

“Now that I have you at my mercy, whatever shall I do?”

Caroline rolled her eyes, well aware that he already knew exactly what he wanted to do.

She yelped when he suddenly pinched her nipple. “Tsk tsk, love. Only bad girls are so rude, and bad girls don’t get to come.”

“Klaus,” she groaned, arching up and trying to press her breast against his hand, but he just tsk-ed at her again.

“You really don’t learn do you?” He asked, releasing her nipple and swiftly flipping her over, the ties twisting easily. “Not only do bad girls not get to come, they also get punished.”

Caroline jolted when his hand came down on her ass, the sting as sharp as the sound. She subtly pressed back against his palm as he rubbed her heated skin.

Crack

Another slap came down on the other cheek. And he didn’t let up, giving her eight more as she tried to not squirm in her bonds, feeling heat in more than just her ass.

“Hm, this is a lovely color on you, sweetheart, but...” She moaned as he swiped a finger through her cleft, catching the obvious slick of her arousal. “Not much of a punishment, now is it?”

“Nooo,” she sighed out.

He flipped her again and she peered up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, licking her lips when they landed on his erect cock.

Klaus chuckled down at her. “Bad girls certainly don’t get to have my cock.”

Caroline fluttered her lashes at him, moving her lips into a slight pout. “Please, Klaus? I’m sorry I was rude earlier. I promise I can make it up to you.”

He bent over her, caressing her cheek and pulling at her bottom lip with his thumb. “Is that so, love? I’m afraid words alone mean nothing, but if you want to make it up to me...”

She nodded eagerly, her core clenching around nothing as a wicked expression crossed face. What was he planning?

“If you are truly sorry, then there are more useful things your mouth can be doing than offering empty promises.”

Her eyes widened as she internally cursed his deviousness. Rather than crawling closer to the headboard, Klaus turned around, maneuvering until she could easily take his cock in her mouth while his breath tickled her clit.

Fuck.

Her stomach twitched as Klaus’ hands ran slowly down her thighs, spreading them wider as his nose just barely brushed against her sensitive flesh. The sensation far more a tease than real stimulation.

“Well, sweetheart? Take me in your mouth”

He was really too good at distracting her, though Caroline was happy to obey this order. She parted her lips to take the head between them, giving a little flick of her tongue against his slit, tasting the salt of his pre-cum.

She whimpered around him as he mimicked her, wet heat swiping once through her folds. Tilting her head, she took him deeper, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked. Her efforts reward when Klaus did the same to her clit.

Pleasing her partner while being pleasured by him was rapidly tightening the coil in her belly. Chasing the sensation, Caroline put more effort into it, varying her suction, pulling back to swirl her tongue around the tip, delicately scraping her teeth against raised veins.

Her moans vibrated down his length as his own skilled tongue teased her, his attention switching between her clit and her folds. Sometimes delightful warm suction and other times wet heat lapping at her dripping arousal.

She felt him tense above her, heard his warning, and took him even deeper. Swallowing around him. Once. Twice. The third time accompanied by a groan of her name as he released his seed down her throat.

He slipped from her mouth as he re-positioned them, her own core aching with her release out of reach.

“Good girl, Caroline,” he muttered, his lips shiny from his efforts. “Good girls get rewards,” he continued before pressing a dominating kiss to her mouth. They each tasted themselves and each other as their tongues dueled, a hotter thought than it had the right to be. Especially as she still hadn’t come.

As if reading her mind, Klaus pulled back slowly, his eyes dark, pupil swallowing all but a thin ring of blue. “I had more plans for you, my love, but I’m afraid I’ve gotten impatient.”

Her legs spread in anticipation as she felt the hard press of him against her folds. He teased her a little, nudging at her clit and sending sparks up her spine, gliding through the slick of her folds, inner walls clenching in desire.

“Klaus, please,” she begged.

“Tell me what you want, Caroline,” he demanded, pressing against her entrance, refusing to penetrate her, no matter how she writhed under him.

“You!” She cried out in frustration. “I want your cock inside me! I want you to fuck me into this mattress until all I can remember is your name! KlaUS!”

Her cry of his name became a shout as he plunged into her in one smooth stroke, her arousal easily accommodating him. The stretch felt delicious and she clamped around him, wanting to feel every inch of his cock inside her.

“That’s it, love,” he cooed, before he set a brutal pace, giving her exactly what she had asked for. Each thrust shook the bed and rattled her teeth, his cock slamming with unerring accuracy against all the most sensitive places inside her. She clenched down around him, loving the friction, and she hitched her legs up to wrap them around him, trying to keep him buried within her.

“More! Harder! Klaus!”

His pubic bone impacted her clit as he obeyed her, his hand slithering up her sides to caress her breasts. She threw her head back as his mouth bit and sucked at her nipple, heat burning through her core, the slick slaps sounding obscene and still the ties kept her suspended on the precipice.

Caroline thought she heard something but her senses deserted her as she shrieked, vision going white. Her suddenly free hands dug into his shoulders as she spasmed around him. Spine arching as she pressed up against him, trying to get even closer as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.

“Klaaauusssss!”

Heat pooled within her, his own release that she hadn’t processed in her ecstasy. Slowly she came back down, the aftershocks fading. Her tense form unclenched as she slumped boneless into the sheets, panting and dazed.

“God, I think that was the best orgasm I ever had,” she mumbled. Easily rolling as Klaus pulled her into his arms, both settling on their sides, while he slipped out of her. She pressed a kiss to his neck, eyelids feeling heavy. “Give me a few moments, I totally want a turn...”

Her words trailed off as she passed out. (Though she got her demanded turn in the morning.)

---

List of current and upcoming sequels here.

#Klaroline #KlarosummerBingo #Klaroline Fanfiction #Klaroline Drabbles #My Writing #Ask #Answer #Anon

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nerdlife0612writes · 5 years

Text

‘Animals’ Part 7

The Songfic Universe ‘Animals’ By Maroon 5, Part 7 Pairing: The Shield x OC (Amber Miller) Rating: NC17 to R Word Count for actual story: 1,802

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SMMMMUUUUUUTTTT: unprotected sex (If you ain’t on BC or trust your partner, wrap it before you tap it kiddies!), spanking, choking, tease/orgasm denial/edging? I think that covers the biggies?

SEE ‘ANIMALS’ INTRODUCTION FOR DISCLAIMERS!

LAST WARNING ~~~> THIS PART FINISHES THE SMUT. UNDER 18 YEARS OF AGE? TURN THE FUCK BACK NOW.

TAG SQUAD - MOUNT UP!

@evilangel84 @gold--gucciempress @thedevilnisworld @bigpixiefoot @theneverendingthirst @kingslayers-queen @princess3733 @tacoshu @queenofthearchitect @i-am-beyoutiful @scuzmunkie

LAST TIME ON ‘ANIMALS’: Humming, feeling at peace for the first time all night, he ran a hand up and down her spine. “I didn’t mean to use you up so badly. I’m so sorry.” Roman was a little remorseful – just a little until she giggled and turned her head into his neck.

“Don’t be. A night like this has been long over due for me.”

He couldn’t help but to smile. “I suppose that’s true. But it’s not over yet.” He rolled her gently off of his chest and into his side. “Rest now, babygirl. I’ll stay until you drift off. Which,” He laughed as she yawned, “I don’t suppose will be long at all.”

She giggled sleepily, shaking her head as she felt sleep overtaking her. The final thoughts in her head were of the remaining Alpha – the ginger with the beastly eyes – and what awaited her with him.

**************** After watching her fall asleep and staying put for a little while entranced by the Omega tucked next him, Roman sighed and got up from the bed. He couldn’t help the self-satisfied grin that graced his face watching her curl up into the spot where he laid previously. Finding his sweatpants, he slid them on and made his was out to the balcony, chuckling at the grimaces that were plastered on the other Alpha’s faces.

“What?” Roman stretched and sat down on the lounge chair.

“Ain’t even gonna shower bud?” Dean cocked an eyebrow at him, swallowing hard when the wind wafted the combined scent combination of Roman’s claiming of the now blissfully unaware Omega.

Roman threw his head back and laughed heartily. “Hell. No. Not ready to let go of this scent yet.” Dean shrugged, unable to deny Roman’s strange sense of logic.

Seth snorted, “I don’t blame ya, man. Not one bit.” The trio then lapsed into a silence that for Dean grew more and more uncomfortable as the minutes ticked by – which felt like an eternity with as much as his whole being buzzed with the insanity he was holding back when it was maybe two or three hours.

Dean grunted. “Fuck this. I’ma go wait on her to wake up.” Dean stalked inside leaving a bewildered duo on the balcony. He slipped his way into Roman’s room, heart nearly jumping out of his chest at the sight of their Omega sleeping. Taking a steadying breath, he bent down to scoop Amber up. He was successful until he made his way towards the door to his room – where he slammed his elbow into the doorframe.

“Fuck!” Dean hissed thinking that whoever called it ‘the funny bone’ was a sick twisted bastard. Unfortunately for him, this caused the sleeping Omega to stir.

“Dean?” Amber asked mid-yawn, blinking several times to try and clear her vision.

Dean let go of the breath that he didn’t realize he was holding as he made his way for the master bathroom of the suite. “Sorry, doll. I’m – uh – not exactly graceful.” He shot her a look of ‘I’m sorry’ and was rewarded with a giggle.

“I get it.” She patted him on the shoulder lightly. “I’m a hardcore klutz myself.” As he neared the garden tub, he sat her down on the edge. “What…?” She arched a raven eyebrow at him. He smiled, a weird mix of softness and a predator all at once, “I figured a bath might help…” He leaned in, burying his face in her neck as he turned on the water. He inhaled deep, “God the images flashing through my mind right now….”

“Tell me?” Amber spoke right against his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. Growling, he stood up and jerked his shirt over his head.

“How about I show you, little Omega?” He lowered his hand to his belt, only for it to be batted away by Amber’s hand as she slid to the floor. “Oh, Omega have something in mind?” Amber bummed, blinking up at him in a faux-innocent way.

“You could say that…” She cupped his already hard as a rock dick through his jeans, earning a sharp hiss.

“Don’t tease me doll. It’s all yours.” Dean stared down at her, eyes hard as steel and hot as lava. Amber quickly undid his belt and zipper, tugging at his jeans and boxers. As soon as they were down around his ankles, he quickly shook them loose along with his boots and licked his lips as he watched the Omega before him wrap her hand around his cock. Amber gave the head a tentative lick before she wrapped her lips around it, sucking hard as she stroked the rest of him.

“Fuck, doll.” His hand went to the back of her head, pushing lightly down – giving her the hint of ‘more, need more’. She batted her eyes at him teasingly as she slowly took the rest of him into her mouth as far as she could go. “Teasing little wench.” He groaned lowly as he felt her free hand cup his balls and knew it wouldn’t be long before he lost his mind. Jerking her off his dick, he closed his eyes doing his best to focus.

“Awww….” “Bend over, hands on the tub.”

The confusion was evident on her face. “What….?”

“Do it, Omega.” He gritted out between his clenched teeth. Amber slowly did as she was told and yelped as his hand landed on her ass – hard enough to sting but not truly be painful. “Omega needs to be punished for teasing me so deliciously. “ Another smack and he couldn’t help but to notice how she started to pant. “Oh?” Smack. “Does my Omega like it a little rough?” Smack. Amber moaned quietly. “Answer. Your. Alpha.” Each word was punctuated with another smack.

“Zoohmygod Alpha. Yes. A little rough.” Amber gasped out, surprised at her own response. Dean rubbed his hand on soothingly on the reddened skin, leaning down to nip at her back.

“Ass on the edge of the tub. I think the honesty earns a little reward.” Dean eyeballed the tub, figuring it was almost the right level. Amber turned slowly and gingerly sat down, hissing at the cool porcelain on her tender posterior. Dean knelt in front of her, cupping her face and bringing it his. Lips met lips in a hungry kiss as his free hand slipped between her legs and lightly teased her already swollen flesh. Amber jumped at the contact but managed to fight the instinct to close her legs. “Tender doll?” Dean whispered as he kissed his way down her neck, making his destination evident. Amber whimpered. “Well, let me help with that…” His hungry mouth was soon on her core devouring it like a man possessed.

“Dean!” Amber gasped as his expert tongue went to work teasing her clit as his fingers pumped in and out at a near alarming rate. She soon felt the heat beginning to coil her stomach, moaning and gasping for breath. All too soon he pulled back, licking his lips.

“Damn doll you not only smell like heaven but taste of it too. I’ll have to do that again sometime. But for now…” He leaned up and stepped into the tub, pulling her with him, her back to his chest as he leaned against the back edge of the tub. His hands cupped her breasts, squeezing and massaging them. “You’re mine. All mine. I don’t give two shits about the claim the others have. I’m your leader. Your primary. Is that understood?”

Amber threw her head back on his shoulder. “Yes, Alpha. You’re primary. Absolutely. Take me. Claim me. Please. I –“

= But don't deny the animal, That comes alive when I'm inside you…=

Dean bit down on the back of her neck lightly. “You want it, you got it!” He reached between her legs, shifting her legs to where hers were on top of his and guided himself inside of her. Amber hissed as he groaned long and low. “Gods Omega. I’m tired of being alone.” He started moving slowly until she said something that broke everything inside of him.

“You’re not alone. Not anymore, Alpha.” Grunting, he lifted her leg up with hand as the other wrapped around her waist.

“Fuck!” He started an almost vicious pace. “You’re fucking perfect. You’re fucking mine. Do you hear me Omega? I’m never letting go of you. Fuck. So hot. So tight somehow - how are you this fucking tight?” Dean was absolutely lost in the feel of her and the fact that even though she’d been so thoroughly used through the night she was so tight around his cock.

“Al-al-alpha! Fuck! Like that!” Amber moaned, gripping the edges of the tub with everything she had. Suddenly, his hand was on her throat applying a moderate amount of pressure causing her walls to start fluttering at a maddening pace.

“Did the others make you feel like this? Huh? Did they unlock these things like your Alpha did?” Dean growled in her ears as his hand that was supporting her leg reached down to rub her clit. Amber’s eyes watered, as she shook her head ‘no’ furiously. “Good! Fucking good!” His fingers on her clit became harsh as he was barely holding back his release. Hell be damned if she didn’t get off first. “Cum for me! Cum for me doll! Your Alpha fucking demands it! God your pussy is crushing me so damn good! Cum for me! Come on!” One last harsh press of her clit sent her flying over the edge in such an intense manner but the nail in the coffin was when Dean roared his own release as he bit into the back of her neck – placing the final mark on her. Amber found herself blacking out as he released her throat, collapsing against him.

“De…dean…..” Amber’s speech slurred as she slipped further away. His grip on her tightened as he released the bite, sealing it like the others before him. Dean kissed her on the temple.

“It’s okay, doll. I got you.” With those words, Amber’s world went black as exhaustion overtook her. Scooping her up bridal style, Dean kicked the drain open and stepped out of the tub, stumbling to the bed. Jerking her back to his chest and doing his best to catch his breath, he could only marvel at the woman next to him.

“I always got you now, don’t I?” Dean whispered, content to just stay that way until she woke up.

And what a new day it would be for all of them.

= Baby, I'm preying on you tonight/ Hunt you down, eat you alive/ Just like animals, animals, like animals-mals/ Maybe you think that you can hide/ I can smell your scent from miles/ Just like animals, animals, like animals-mals = ***************

#wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwe au #paranormal #paranormal au #fanfiction #alpha/omega #alpha/omega au #the shield #the shield x oc #animals #maroon 5 #the songfic universe #nerdlife writes

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immoralrpg-blog · 7 years

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Congratulations, ANA, you have been accepted for the role of LILY EVANS, with the faceclaim of LUCA HOLLESTELLE. Your portrayal of Lily is whimsical and altruistic and not without her flaws, which helps her to stand out as a three dimensional character. You understood the importance of seeing that Lily isn’t as perfect as her sister believes, and her struggles with her own sense of morality make for an interesting arch. Nicely done! Please head along to the CHECKLIST for your next steps.

CHARACTER NAME:

lily marie evans, although her mother was incredibly keen on naming her lily kathleen, which her father wasn’t particularly happy about (as he’d had a neighbour called kathleen growing up, who wasn’t a very nice woman). after a lot of arguing, they settled on marie, as it was sweet and simple like their oldest daughter’s name: petunia jane.

lily \ lil·y \ as a girl’s name is pronounced li-lee. of old english origins, it was taken from the name of the plant having delicate, trumpet-shaped flowers regarded as a symbol of purity and perfection. while lily is most definitely a firecracker and won’t take no for an answer, i think her first name mirrors the hidden parts of her most people don’t see — there’s a childish innocence inside her, a purity that has yet to die. even as the war progresses and she sees more and more horrible things, lily still believes in the kindness and good in people; no matter how hard it is slowly becoming.

marie \ ma·rie \ as a girl’s name is pronounced mah-ree. of hebrew origin, it is a name of debated meaning. many believe it to mean “sea of bitterness” or “sea of sorrow.” however, some sources cite the alternative definitions of “rebellion,” “wished-for child,” and “mistress or lady of the sea.” the name is born in the bible by the mother of jesus, the son of god. as cliché as this might seem, i think that the fact that lily gave birth to harry is a good allusion to mary, mother of god — the woman who gave life to the savior. not to mention that marie has a sweetness to it that goes perfectly with the name lily — it’s delicate and simple, fitting my version of the character like a glove.

GENDER & PRONOUNS:

cisgender, she / her / hers.

FACECLAIM:

luca hollestelle

katie stevens

eleanor tomlinson

BIOGRAPHY:

born in the beginning of 1960, lily was welcomed into an average muggle family. the girl grew up alongside her big sister, petunia, her role-model and best friend, for the girls were truly inseparable — always walking hand-in-hand and laughing at jokes that violet, a primary school teacher, and harry, a writer, were not allowed to understand.there was never a flower without the other, they were merely an extension of the other, the year of difference they had from each other meant nothing. petunia and lily were two of a kind and they loved it.

enrolled at the school where her mother worked, lily’s life was a bed of roses — no worries or too much responsibility weighing the child down except for what she was going to play the following morning; a few worksheets worth of homework being the only thing that turned sunny days slightly grey. it was not until lily was nine years old that she learnt that, perhaps, her life was not as average as it appeared. ever since she could remember, she had done things that most children couldn’t but she hadn’t paid much attention to it — she couldn’t do a handstand like a girl in her grade, so why should she worry that other little girls did not know how to change the colour of flower petals? a dreamer, she never once questioned her abilities, often being too distracted to even bother to notice them: she’d always been different and being so didn’t scare her – lily was who she was and as long as she wasn’t deprived of her free afternoons, what was the problem is she could float right off her swing? it didn’t matter. until one day, as she was playing alone, changing a flower’s appearance, lily met a black-haired boy named severus who told her that she was a witch; that the things she could do were not simply skills — they were magic.

as any other little girl, she was ecstatic. magic. she had always believed in fairies and spells, in the tales her gran had told her about before she merrily drifted off to sleep, but being a witch had not once been something the redhead had considered and yet it made sense. severus fascinated her, taught her about a world she would someday be a part of, became a shoulder she could lean on and a friend she adored – petunia was pushed into the background, somewhat forgotten amongst afternoons of listening to the snape boy talk about spells, charms and potions, of castles and villages filled with wizards. it wasn’t her intention, lily never wanted to push her sister away, and when tuney began to grow cold and cruel, bitter even, the ginger didn’t understand nor accept her actions. a stubborn person by nature, lily too began to treat her sister as she was treated and all hell broke loose in the evans household.

the red-haired girl received her hogwarts acceptance letter mere months before her twelfth birthday and she was as excited to learn more about magic as she was to leave home — wanting to get away from tuney and her unjustified hatred. in her young mind, lily couldn’t possibly understand why her sister had so quickly grown to despise her and, stubborn as usual, she couldn’t bring herself to even ask why. so, come september 1st, the young miss evans was sorted into the house of one godric gryffindor and she soon forgot all about how great severus said that slytherin was.

in gryffindor, the girl felt at home; like she belonged but even though she made plenty of good friends, never once did she ignore sev in front of them — he knew her like no one else did. she was always loyal to the core, never wavering, never giving up, even when severus began getting involved with people she knew were no good, even when his “friends” whispered ‘mudblood’ as she walked by, it didn’t matter because it wasn’t sev – sure, she would have loved it if he hadn’t joined those aspiring death eaters, but she ignored the truth. it was unthinkable for her best friend to be one of them, to want to join voldemort in his fight for blood purity. it was hard for lily not to see the best in everyone. and that was her mistake.

fifth year proved to be a big one for the ginger. she was made prefect, something that made her as proud as anyone can be – she, a muggleborn, was granted such an honour, one she’d secretly wished for but never really voice out loud. a person fond of fairness and justice, nothing made lily happier than to be able to do what she believes is right: those who deserved to be punished, the people who insulted her under their breaths when she walked by and tormented first years, mere babies compared to their abusers, were soon given what they deserved; the people who helped the poor, scared children and respected the rules were rewarded, even if only with a warm smile and a nice conversation. order was always something the witch found most important and now she could make sure it was a constant in the halls of hogwarts. of course, she too enjoyed the power that came with it, the feeling that she was important, that she mattered. it helped her push away the emptiness that rolled over her unexpectedly— that feeling that made it hard to get up in the morning, the utter struggle that her days were more often than not. it kept her at bay, above water. it helped.

everything changed, however, when called lily a “mudblood”; showing the redhead just how much he’d changed since they were nine years old, how lost his soul had become. but more than that, it finally cracked the dam that had kept her controlled— suddenly, she was forced to hide behind a mask of perfection she couldn’t keep up straight anymore ; forced to pretend that she was fine, that she was still lily, when truly she felt like a shadow. her chest was numb, her thoughts slow and taunting, her body so heavy she wanted to cry at the sheer idea of crumbling under it. all that she’d worked for, all that she’d done suddenly was so meaningless when compared to the low buzz of the thoughts that consumed her— she was a shell, barely functioning behind closed doors when she allowed herself to feel the intensity of her new state of being.

the summer, more than anything, is bound to serve as a distraction from the loneliness that this year brought her, from the cold that’s lodged deep inside her bones. she’s trying to survive, trying not to crack, but with every day it gets harder to hide. to pretend. to smile. but she’ll do it, because lily evans does what needs to be done and she has no other choice.

QUESTIONAIRE

describe your secret in your own way.

“ it’s… ” a moment of pause, a wrinkle of brows and forehead. a breath. " it’s like… floating. you never really fall, you don’t do anything— you just float through every moment, every second of your day. nothing you do breaks your fall, nothing pushes you closer to the bottom ‘cause there’s no bottom. you kind'a wish there was, y'know? “ there was an empty, humourless chuckle that echoed in the room ; lily’s hands moved to tug at her sleeves in a poorly concealed attempt to calm her nerves. ” anything’s better than feeling like you’re floating through life. and yeah, you could hold onto someone but what if you end up draggin’ them down with you? it’s scary, so you don’t. you… float some more, until you can find a way to crash. the courage to crash, more like it. “ her shoulders shake as if she was trying to push the thoughts away, but her eyes remain solemn— dark against pale skin. ” and the really fucked up part is that when you float? you have a lot of time to think. and that’s what kills you. “

expand on one ( or more ) of your connections. tell us about them. your relationship with them.

” look, things with severus are complicated, yeah? “ the sigh that pushes past her throat is almost silent, soft in nature as if she’s done so often enough for sighs to hold no meaning. ” he’s a what if. lots of things are, i guess— you wonder what you could have done differently, what you could have changed if you’d been better, more supportive… if you could have changed anything at all. and you’ll never know, which makes what ifs the fucked up part of life— you’ll wonder until you can remember what happened. “ there’s a moment of quiet, as if the girl was bracing herself for something. wetting her lips, her grip on her sweater sleeves didn’t waver even as her voice did. ” i miss him. no—no, i miss what he means. that kind'a makes it worse, not missing him for himself. i miss what we used to be, i miss the way he made me feel— the way i was when we were kids. horrible, innit? i miss the lily that i was when things were okay. “

pick one word to describe yourself. why that word?

” brave. “ this time, the smile that tugs at the corners of pink lips is genuine and so is the spark in green eyes. it’s odd and it shouldn’t be there, not after the subjects you discussed— she knows that you know that it’s an abnormality. but it’s real. ” maybe 'cause i’m supposed to be, maybe 'cause i want to be. it’s one of those things— if you say it out loud often enough you might just make it happen. i might not be brave, i might not even know what being brave actually is but… i want to be it. weird, innit? “ her head shakes and a hand brushes red locks aside— the soft smile still sitting on her face. ” i guess brave just beats the alternative. who wants to think of themselves as weak? “

#accepted #lily evans

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