It was a rather sudden incident ── one that proceeded the attack on the institute by only a few days. Set up in his own room, Kris laid there motionless, unconscious; subdued into a coma due to the shock his body received && from blood loss. So far, there’d been zero signs of any problems in the slow process of the shadowhunter’s recovery ── which is most likely why what happened that night was all the more shocking, upsetting && frightening to those that were involved.
Kris sat against the windowsill in his room, glaring out through the glass panes as if the world had wronged him. In his own opinion, it had; his proof reflected in the window. Hades─ a shadow of his former self─ sat beside the bed that Kris’s body lied in; knuckles stained white from the tight grip that the warlock kept on his lover’s hand.
Oh, how Kris wished that Hades could see him─ how he wished that his boyfriend would stop grieving over something he couldn’t have helped.
His wish wasn’t granted.
People say that when you desire something enough, then you’ll get it, but Kris didn’t really believe that─ or he hadn’t until he witnessed his beloved warlock summon what was supposedly his father. That’s that moment that Kris wanted-- no, he NEEDED-- to will himself to wake up; he knew that he was the only one who could stop Hades in this situation.
Kris stood between Hades and his father, only a foot away from the warlock’s face, his body facing towards him. “Hades..” Kris whispered, a fond smile twitching onto his face. “You’re such an idiot.” Despite knowing that Hades wouldn’t hear him, or even know he was there in the first place, the blond could feel his body beginning to rouse in response to his inner turmoil.
Taking that final step closed, as he felt his body calling him, Kris raised his hands and cupped the back of Hades’s neck. Pulling himself up onto his tip-toes, the shadowhunter pressed his lips against Hades’, knowing that there’d be no response.
By the time he pulled away, the young nephilim was fading back into consciousness, his soul drawn back to his body by pure will power. With one last whispered sentence, Kris disappeared from the room Hades was standing in, only to open his eyes and stare at the ceiling of the room he resided in.
❝ How dare you—
How dare you brush your fingers across my sides, feather-light and cautious-
How dare you let your eyes hold mine, drowning me in their sincerity-
How dare you slip your hand into mine, slotting them together like perfect puzzle pieces-
How dare you smile at me as if we were the only people in the room-
How dare you kiss me until my head swam from the lack of oxygen- ❞
AMARANTH , GLOBE — UNCHANGEABLE ; MARK TUAN is KRIS GLORYFELL , a NINETEEN year old SHADOWHUNTER . He is said to be EXCEPTIONALLY GIFTED but ALOOF as well . Let us welcome THE PRODIGY into the Institute with open arms . (( ooc : Blue - 17 - EST - she / her ))
Hello, my name is Blue &&. this is my blog for Kris Gloryfell. I’m 18, and I’m currently working on all the shit I need to do to, so if you’re interested in becoming friends with this pretty boy, you guys should be awesome mutuals and kick my ass into gear whenever I start to slack off, ye??
Kris is exceptionally gifted at using Shadowhunter Runes, at fighting, at mostly anything you give him as a task. He despises this part of himself, but he will never admit it because of his pride.A good example is when he finds something interesting, only to end up it within a short amount of time─ which in turn irritates him. Why? Because not only an inconvenience to be able to do anything he puts his mind into doing without much dedication, but also because he knows that it’s not FAIR to anyone else who tries their hardest just to get to the startling line of their dream/goal in life.
Kris loves music, and since a young age, he has mastered how to play the piano, guitar, violin, and harmonica. However; that doesn’t mean that he’ll play any of them willingly, let alone play for someone else. He prefers to listen to others make music, while refusing as many ivitations to join in or try any other instrument as he possibly can.
Kris’s mother was of Korean blood, but his father was of English blood. Not only is he mixed, he is a demon-blooded Shadowhunter, with no true recollection of how or why. His childhood is a blur, and everytime he tries to think about it, his head feels like it's trying to split in half.
His first real distinct memory amongst his blurry childhood is of what he thinks is his mother, begging him to never give up on life, to always stand back up, and to protect those who cannot protect themselves.
He joined the London Institution at a young age, though it was a surprise to everyone that he seemed to already know Runes and how to fight. He was a quiet child, avoiding everyone and keeping to himself as much as possible. He only just recently started to open up, and it's because it seems that he piqued a certain warlock's interest.
❝ How dare you—
How dare you brush your fingers across my sides, feather-light and cautious-
How dare you let your eyes hold mine, drowning me in their sincerity-
How dare you slip your hand into mine, slotting them together like perfect puzzle pieces-
How dare you smile at me as if we were the only people in the room-
How dare you kiss me until my head swam from the lack of oxygen- ❞
Kris mastered the ability to not let his emotions influence his decisions at a very young age. He’d been trained to do so ever since he took his first step. So, how’d he allow himself to get into this predicament? Well, no matter how much he wracked his brain for an answer that seemed logical, he always found himself at the same ridiculous conclusion over && over again ─── He was completely && utterly heartbroken.
WHY DID I CARE FOR YOU?
Apparently, he did it because he didn’t want to have to put up with the game of cat && mouse he’d been subjected to ever since he met a certain someone. He did it so he’d be able to continue on as if nothing had happened. He had done it, because upon weighing his options, the blond found he preferred a wound that he knew without a doubt, that it would heal on it’s own.
WHY COULDN’T YOU SEE HOW I FELT ABOUT YOU?
Kris couldn’t help himself; he laughed. He laughed at himself. He laughed at his heart. He laughed at his predicament. He laughed at the irony of the situation. He laughed at his stupidity. He laughed at the dead, headless demon that laid across from him on the floor somewhere in the London Institution. He laughed at the wound caused by said demon. He laughed at his blood as it seeped out of him && onto the floor. He laughed at his carelessness. He laughed at the idea of happiness. He laughed && laughed at all of these things, but not an actual sound was made.
WHY COULDN’T YOU LET ME FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU?
With his strength near gone, Kris willed himself to smile, despite the tears that flowed out of his eyes && down his cheeks. He smiled, but only because as his consciousness faded, the last thing he saw was a familiar head of platinum blond hair turn the corner, eyes wide in recognizable fear. He smiled, because the last thing he heard was himself sighing out a certain someone’s name.
“shut up you idiot,” the words are softly whispered, more affectionate than annoyed, and hades barely managed to get the words out before kris kisses him.
hands grasp at kris’ waist, clutching at him with desperate handfuls. the blonde kisses him with everything he has, unleashing all the frustration and anger and desire along with feelings he would never be able to form into words to into the kiss.
hades thinks he feels something click inside him, like a puzzle piece slotting into place, and he swears he hears a small voice chime ‘finally’ in the absence of his thoughts.
he thinks he knows what people mean now, when they describe kissing someone as coming home.
and hades finds himself suddenly unable to think of himself as someone separate to kris. he is his. his to kiss, to consume, to find comfort in when a storm rattles against the window panes or when his heart rattles against his ribcage.
hades’ hands shift, fingertips tracing blazing paths on the smaller boy’s skin, slipping beneath the shadowhunter’s shirt to explore the new expanse of skin. the warlock isn’t hesitant anymore, in fact he’s forgotten all meaning of the word. instead his lips turn greedy and seeking— devouring the taste of cherries and honey as if it was his lifeline, the oxygen he needed to breathe, the food he needed to consume to live.
FINALLY. The word filtered throughout his brain on repeat as his lips conformed to Hades’, his body slotted perfectly against the others as if he was meant to be held like this && by these hands ── The same hands that left the skin they trailed across feeling as if it’d been set ablaze.
Fingers tugged lightly on silky locks, giving the warlock a sign to pay attention for a second once Kris found that the position they were in strained his muscles more than he appreciated. Hesitantly, the blond shadowhunter pulled back from the kiss. “Hades, wait.”
He waited for when Hades looked at him, before giving the warlock a cheeky grin. With barely any effort on his part, Kris jumped up && immediately wrapped his legs around Hades’ waist, also wrapping his arms around the others’ neck. “There,” He purred, flipping his hair out of his face with a snicker. “I like this position a little bit more than the other, don’t you agree?”
if this was anyone else he’d be annoyed with how hot and cold the boy was- pulling him closer one minute only to push him away the next.
but this wasn’t anyone else. this was kris. and hades couldn’t bring himself to feel even the slightest tinge of annoyance.
the pale blond watched kris’ hands warily before allowing his gaze to flit back to the other boy’s face. he’s silent for a moment, and hades considers leaving kris there. walking away without giving him what both of them want. giving him a taste of his own medicine. but that’s not much of an option. he’s been waiting too long already.
”you didn’t even say please,” he teases in a soft murmur as he tugs kris until they’re pressed against each other. hades ducks his head, lips brushing just barely against the shadowhunter’s, the touch soft and cautious. there’s the strong urge to do something- something more than just a shy brush of lips. the urge to kiss him until he’s breathless, kiss him until his lips are red and swollen, to drag his lips down the slender column of the shadowhunter’s throat and leave his mark, a purple bruise amongst pale skin claiming kris as his own, to grind against him until he’s gasping, eyes full of want and lust and need-- but he can’t lest he scares kris away again.
The tug brought the blush back to Kris’ cheeks, pale pink lips curling into something akin to an amused grin as dark hues scanned the face of the other blond. Sheepishly, Kris tilted his head to the side, pushing himself up onto his tip toes slightly to meet Hades half way ── frustration boiling in his veins as the warlock meekly brushed their lips together.
He was annoyed, pissed even, at the fact that Hades had convinced him into going along with this ── only to act shy && meek about it. Out of irritation, Kris threw caution to the wind. His hands cupped around the back of Hades’s neck, fingers intertwining through the soft locks of platinum blond hair once again.
“Kiss me already, you damn asshole.” Kris hissed, his nails digging ever so slightly into the other’s scalp while he used his body to tug Hades into an actual kiss ── one that sent every nerve on his body awry. It produced goosebumps across his skin because of the passion, lust && desire he portrayed through each movement of his lips against Hades’, && Kris couldn’t extinguish the small flame of hope that the warlock would understand.
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