Ivory Thrones

my veins become starlight they draw a path through my arm they scream of ancient theories of fallen stars in our eyes maybe we lost our home and our skin has turned to paper but we still have the night and our mouths are singing the eternal song of the skies.

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

Snowy || Tara & Mathys

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

the-tower-reversed:

No, he definitely wasn’t one of Tara’s retail customers. From his dirty clothes to his old, broken down car, suffice to say there was nothing high-end about him. However, he hadn’t started the day in such dire straits. That morning his car had been running, and the clothes he’d donned weren’t new but they were clean. It was the weather that had killed his battery and caked the bottom of his jeans in muddy slush as he’d been forced to go it on foot. Unfortunately, unless this girl had a miracle up her puffy sleeve, he still didn’t have any better option. 

He tried to remain attentive, giving her the benefit of a doubt. If nothing else, he appreciated her apparent concern. No one else had stopped to ask if he was alright, and it wasn’t till she revealed her face that the penny finally dropped. For a moment, Mathys just stared, dumbstruck. “Tara…" 

Nearly two months of shared memories flashed before his eyes, and as amazed as he was to see her again, he wasn’t sure she shared the sentiment. For that reason, he just straightened up slowly instead of immediately going for a hug, listening to what she had to say before deciding how to proceed.

Chewing his bottom lip, he looked between her and his car, tucked his chin in a small nod, and then just closed the door. He understood what she was saying and honestly, she’d always had a way of finding the silver lining. Granted, in this case, she was the silver lining, but now more than ever, he was inclined to accept the aid, "It’d be good to dry out and warm up some, before heading back out in this…” Looking up and down the street, all he could see was snow piling up. Four miles had never seemed so far, but frowning, Mathys asked, “You’re sure your your friend won’t mind..?”

It had been years ago. In all honesty, it felt like a lifetime ago. She had been a completely different person in her teens and long since shed that image of herself. She wasn’t particularly bothered by the fact that he was there. That had no bearing on her life or her outlook on things, though part of her wanted to know where he had run off to. Part of her wanted to know why he had gone. 

Logically, she knew it didn’t matter, though, so she didn’t bother to ask. The answer served pretty much no purpose other than to transport them both back to the past. The past was something that should remain where it was. Dwelling on events that could no longer be changed was a useless function of far too many people. She had no desire to be one of them. “Yeah,” she said with a nod, “it’s me.” At least he recognized her too. They hadn’t changed that much from their mid-teens to now. He still had the same unruly hair and sharp blue eyes. She was still the same sharp-tongued girl with the Kamdyn blonde hair.

She watched him for a moment, likely trying to decide if she was being serious or if this was all a ploy to push him in a snow drift and leave him to freeze to death. If she were another type of woman she might be willing to do just that. Her control of water would make it so easy in this weather, but it wasn’t even remotely where her mind was. She unzipped her outer layer and shrugged the coat off, the elements already chilling her a bit more. “Here, take this,” she said handing him the puffy rose pink jacket with the fluff lined hood. “And this,” The sparkly black scarf was warm from her body heat and would likely help warm him up a bit. 

“No, Connor won’t mind. He’ll love you.” 

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

Mirror Mirror || Tara + Romy

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

the-tower-reversed:

For a second, Roman thought he’d managed to recover from tripping all over his words. No, that hadn’t come out quite right, but he’d hastily corrected himself, which was where most took pity on him enough to just let it slide. Unfortunately, Tara seemed amused by his eloquence (or lack thereof), and opted to have a bit more fun at his expense, making his eyes widen and his cheeks flush with her giggled response. “That’s not-” He was cut off by a veritable howl of laughter from across the room, and shot his boss a murderous look - not that it deterred Connor’s cackling in the slightest. Romy scowled, but, slowly, warily, he returned his attention to the little blonde.

By then, she’d released the hem of the dress from her hand and allowed it to fall back down, nearly to the floor. It was a covering and perfectly decent ensemble, yet something about the way the dark fabric rippled and flowed over her body made it difficult to pull his eyes up. Every time he tried, he kept fixating on the spot he knew her new ink was. It wasn’t till she complimented him that his eyes finally shot up to her face, his initial expression a mixture of hostility and skepticism hat was fast whittled away by his abject confusion. He thought she’d still been teasing him. Realizing that wasn’t the case, he seemed at a loss once again.

Thankfully, Connor gave him a mission - something else to focus on instead of this minefield of an impromptu social interaction. Acknowledging his employer with a soft grunt, Roman shifted from the doorway and moved towards the check-out counter at the front of the store, giving ‘Taraglen’ a wide berth as he circled behind her. He was trying not to let her distract him, lest he do or say something stupid again, but her name struck a chord. It was an unusual moniker, for starters - one that he’d only heard once before, within the confines of the Tower, no less.

“Yeah…” he’d absently mumbled, before realizing his response could either be him taken as him confirming his name or agreeing that she should pay and get out. The palm of his right hand thumped against his forehead. This was a disaster. He hadn’t managed to say a single intelligent thing yet to this girl, and even though she had called him out when he wasn’t expecting it, he was more annoyed at his apparent inability to string two coherent thoughts together. The wolf heaved a frustrated sigh, then let it all out all at once: “My name’s Roman, yes. Some call me Romy. Connor is just being an ass. Take as long as you like.”

She was a terrible person for torturing the poor piercer, but she couldn’t help it. He was so tall and muscled and inked and completely flustered by her. It was a little bit of a power trip if she was being honest, but she really just liked the fact that he was checking her out. She’d already done her cursory check out when she’d come in hours ago and found that she seriously wanted to know more about the newest employee at Ink Therapy. 

She could have asked Connor, while she was laying on the chair suffering five hours of stinging pain and cold flesh, but Tara had always liked the act of exploration herself. It was easy to ask Connor about the pretty tattooed boy with the needles, but where was the actual fun in that? No, this was so much better. Instead, she got to interact with him and learn from his cues. Which, was more telling than anything Connor could have given her. 

Tara smiled brightly at... Romy and followed him to the front desk. She was still glaring slightly at Connor for his idiocy, but it was internal. The wolf was too busy dancing to his music and laughing at the apparent trainwreck of an interaction that Tara had stepped into with the piercer. She wasn’t put off at all, though. In fact, she found it to be adorable. She didn’t particularly want to pay and leave, not now that she’d found this interesting creature with the sharp eyes and intricate ink, but it was late and Connor was pushing her out. 

Grabbing her purse was an afterthought, her mind focused more on the man than on the actual need to pay and she excused herself for a moment, allowing the man to berate himself without her sharp eyes to catch it. Which was perhaps good because he really didn’t need Tara to draw attention to his literal facepalm, as cute as she would have found it. His confirmation wasn’t taken as fact that she should get out, she had not though, given the way he said it, that he was looking for her to leave, though possibly he was agreeing that Connor was growing senile in his old age. 

“No it’s fine, Conner’s always,” she was going to say ‘an ass’ but the sentence died as she put together the first half of his sentence.  It was a long moment before her mind forced her to stop completely while she looked through her bag for her wallet. She looked up at him, eyes wide like saucers. “Roman?” She asked. The name was not overly common, but it was common enough to give her pause and make her wonder if maybe this man was not the Roman she had once known. The eyes, though... “Is your last name Ainsley?” She was not someone that typically shied away from questions so asking what his last name was, was never an option. It would explain why he looked familiar without actually being familiar. She hadn’t seen Roman Ainsley in years. 

[twilightdarkandlovely]

A Face from the Past || Julian & Orianna

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

twilightdarkandlovely:

She stared him down, not about to back away. She refused to be scared of the man in front of her, even as his hand tightened on her neck. He might have become some person that she barely recognized, but he was still her mate. She just needed to bring it out. And apparently her presence was all that was needed for that. 

She felt the instant that his intention shifted, rushing forward to meet his lips with her own. A more logical person might say that they should speak—he’d thought she was dead? Honestly? She wasn’t sure how he’d come to that conclusion, though it certainly explained a few things—but Orianna had never been one to talk when there were other, far more intimate ways to communicate. 

Especially not when he was kissing her like this. He clearly wasn’t displeased with her sudden presence. Her plan was falling into place perfectly. Her own hands wound their way into his soft curls, tugging as she pulled herself into him even more. 

There would never be enough of this. She’d been in withdrawal from him, for years, and now… she couldn’t do it again. Even if she thought it was what he wanted, she couldn’t give him space. She deepened the kiss, glad to see that they fit together just as perfectly as they always had. 

It felt like a dream, like some elaborate rouse his mind had made up. He knew it wasn’t, he was conscious of his life and his surroundings. He was conscious of the fact that he had actually gotten up, experienced a whole day and had been on his way home when she appeared to him. His angel of death, beautiful and merciless as always. She looked no different than the last time he had seen her, save for the wardrobe. She was a modern beauty in her leather skirt and boots.

The hand not wound tightly in her hair traveled up her thigh and slipped under her skirt. He didn’t bother to break the kiss, instead, he simply deepened it. His tongue pressed against her lips, forcing her mouth open, though the act was not met with much, if any, resistance. She wanted his kisses as much as he wanted to give them to her. 

One hundred years had passed since the last time he had tasted her. Since his hands had felt her. None of it had changed, even in this alleyway, hidden from view and in a completely different part of the world, it all felt exactly the same as it had. He longed for more, needed it. Needed her. 

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

Escape || Avery + Bastian

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

twilightdarkandlovely:

He sighed. “Apparently, yes. That’s exactly where they put me.” Perhaps that thought his lineage would be an asset, but it hadn’t exactly helped. She was a full-fledged goddess. And he was a demigod turned demon, which meant he was stronger than the majority of other demons, but he was still not at the level of a full-blooded god. 

“I do rather like the idea of royally fucking them over, as you put it. They didn’t seem to hesitate to put me in such a situation.” He steepled his fingers, thinking. “I suppose I could appeal to the goddess. See if she’ll listen. Though I’ve made that offer before, she just didn’t fully trust me.” She’d thought he’d turn tail and run as soon as his feet hit the realm. To be fair, that had been his plan entirely, brought up in anger right after she’d stranded him here. He’d later considered it more and thought it through. 

“But Avery…” he sighed. “You’re my wife. This could lock you out, as well.” She had a life there. He knew she valued her position. “I didn’t want to make this decision unilaterally without considering the impact it would have on you, Especially considering that I didn’t even have a way to consult you about it.” 

Her hand slid down the fabric of his tie, releasing the wrinkles she had put there and she sighed. “So you figured that staying up here where I have no hope of finding you was a better idea?” She asked. Her hands moved from the tie and over the fabric of his shirt. She smoothed out the minute wrinkles that his use of the shirt had caused and looked up at him. “That seems like a rather stupid idea, don’t you think?” She was not admonishing or angry. Simply stating a fact. His choice to not make that decision because she needed to be involved was hindered by the fact that she had no way of contacting him. 

She let her hands rest on his waist. He felt so much taller when she wasn’t wearing her heels. “I appreciate the concern, my love,” she really did. It was a level of caring that most in their realm wouldn’t give a thought to. Hell, even she would have likely acted in her own best interest were she in his position and hoped like hell that he would be understanding. “But it was not needed. I don’t want to be down there if you’re not there.” Eight decades top side felt like eight centuries in hell. At least, when he was around it did. 

“So,” she put her hand on his cheek, her thumb caressing his warm skin. “Give the goddess back her soul and tell the big boys downstairs to fuck off. This was the option they gave you. It’s time for them to learn their lesson.” She couldn’t possibly begin to guess as to why they had turned on him, nor did she really care, but it was time he returned the favor. 

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

Winter Wonderland || Liam & Miranda

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

twilightdarkandlovely:

She laughed a little. “I’m sure the humans would take notice of that. Though they do seem to miss quite a large swath of things.” She was a fae, and tended to deal in truths and wordsmithing, but there was nothing more fun than telling a mortal exactly what she could do and watching them laugh as though she’d made a particularly funny joke. “The majority of them seem desperate to think the world is exactly as large as they think it is and no larger. Nothing scares them more than the fact that things are out of their control.” 

“My gain, is it?” she asked, grinning. “What are you planning that’s going to be so gainful, then? Are you saying that our fun would interrupt others, should there be others around?” She was teasing him, her hand working down to slip under his shirt and run cool fingers over the hot skin under the fabric. 

Gods was she right about that. The mortal faction in this world was painfully oblivious and fucking happy to keep it that way. He could probably shift right in front of someone and they’d chalk it up to them having lost their mind and not believe for one second that supernatural creatures were real. “They’re a bit of a useless bunch,” he said with a shrug. He had once been one of them. He wore his badge of ignorance proudly and spewed the work of false promises. He had once been a pastor and happy to guide people into their believed lies. That title was shed, though, the day he lost his family. 

He stopped walking, her cold fingers sending a chill up his spin as heat burned in his eyes. He turned slowly so that he was standing in front of her and smirked. She always loved challenging him and he was all too happy to rise to the occasion. His fingers traced the line of her jaw before he hooked a finger under her chin and tilted her face up so that she was looking at him. He leaned forward, his lips skimming her, just a hint of a kiss before his lips moved, brushing against the shell of her ear. “You’re wearing far too much and it's too cold out here to change that. You’ll have to wait and see.”

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

Bruised and bloodied || Marc + Phaedra

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

twilightdarkandlovely:

She shook her head as she finished soothing away the rest of the bruises on his ribs. “You don’t owe me anything.” She didn’t heal people so that they’d owe her anything. Yes, it was her job, both her and at the Medical Center, but it was also a gift that she had. It let her make a living, but beyond that she liked helping people. When she could ease their pain, she would. It just felt… right. “I’m glad to help. Also it’s what I’m here for.” 

She glanced around the room, shaking her head. “And I don’t think anyone’s waiting for me.” It had been a quiet night. There were a few people still resting in the cots, but they were all people she’d previously seen. That was a blessing. Some nights she could barely keep up with it, rushing from one person to another, though she rarely overextended herself. She’d gotten better at rationing out her powers as shed’ gotten older, instead of pouring them out to the point of exhaustion. 

His chest was all healed, and she sat back, looking up at him. Even sitting the man towered over her, which she was pretty used to, but even for someone surrounded by tall people he was giant. “Oh, you’ve got…” she reached up, her thumb moving gently over the split on his lip, knitting the skin back together in an instant. “There. Fixed.” 

He knew he didn’t actually owe her anything, that wasn’t the point of the service she was offering, but that also didn’t mean that Marc didn’t feel like he should return at least some of the kindness. It wasn’t like healing people that willingly allowed themselves to be hit was a useful way to spend her time and practice her craft. Most of the people in this place deserved the injuries they got. They asked for them, were paid for them. 

She was right about one thing, though. The back area was shockingly void of needed help. It was calm and quiet, which was strange. Marc was far more used to the frenzy of the ring. He was used to the scent of blood and the sound of cracking bone. Tonight had been light, but then, middle of the week fights always seemed to be a bit calmer. “I guess that’s good, then,” he said letting himself sink into the cot, his eyes traveling around the makeshift infirmary. He was all patched up, really he should grab his shit and get home. A shower and perhaps a bit of grub sounded like it was in order. 

She called his attention back to her the moment she spoke but she moved to fast for him to even be able to expect her next actions. Her thumb, delicate and soft slid over his bottom lip and if that wasn’t some kind of distraction Marc didn’t know what was. He didn’t draw attention to his thoughts, simply pulled his lip into his mouth, his tongue instinctively checking to see that the cut was gone. “Thanks,” he said slowly. “I appreciate it.” 

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

Dinner Plans || Branwen + Rowan

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

twilightdarkandlovely:

I thought it was because you were beginning to be threatened by my baking skills,” he responded with an easy grin. Their gentle teasing had never changed over the years. “The desserts were just getting too good, and you can’t have me outpacing you.” She was the one who’d taught him, just as she was the one who’d taught him many things about the world when he’d first traveled from his home forest. She’d always be better at this than he was, but he could needle her a little about it, get a smile out of his goddess. 

“And, well.” He frowned. “I know he’s on surprisingly good terms with Owen McMann.” The fact that those two got along so well probably raised troubling concerns about Owen himself. He’d been perfectly content to hire on a demon as his VP, from what Rowan could tell. If anything the vampire was amused with the prince’s more sadistic tendencies, and apparently he was good enough at his job to satisfy the CEO.

The idea that this mysterious new blonde could be Bastian’s wife was concerning. “You think it might be his wife?” He sighed. “That can’t possibly be good for us.” He couldn’t imagine that Bastian had married some sweet, kind creature who would bring out his better nature. This was likely going to only complicate things for them, and with Branwen’s brother’s soul hanging in the balance, he knew she couldn’t afford much more complication. 

She leaned forward, a smirk on her lips. “Oh it was related to a set of skills you have, but baking wasn’t one of them.” Her voice was light and happy, a small giggle attached to her words. His teasing did nothing but make her love him even more. It was a side of him that no one else really saw. He was always so proper and controlled in the public setting, but with her, he had life. She loved him so much. 

What she didn’t love was the possibility of this blonde in Bastian’s company. Never had she seen him in the company of anyone other than herself and on rare occasion, Rowan. To say the two men didn’t get along would likely be an incredible understatement. Even Owen wasn’t seen with Bastian outside of a work capacity. “I’m not worried about Owen, he’s a harmless vampire. They’re bred for sadistic purposes but they can be defeated.” Owen was easy to kill, even Bastian himself could do it, should he desire. It wouldn’t even require the use of any powers. Simple strength and a stake to the heart. 

“I think...,” she sighed. “I think it might be time to come up with a new plan to get Bran out.” Bastian wasn’t willing to help. She’d held him here for eight decades in the hopes that he would come around to her way of thinking, but force might just be the only way to do this. “If his wife is here, all our training... It’ll be gone in days. He’ll chew his leash off and lash out. It might be time to rethink things.” 

[twilightdarkandlovely]

A Face from the Past || Julian & Orianna

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

twilightdarkandlovely:

She hadn’t expected him to attack her, necessarily, but she’d known it was on the list of possibilities. Her teeth bared in a wild grin as he threw her back against the wall. He was on the edge of a shift, she could tell from his eyes. At least her fear that he might not even respond to her was immensely unfounded. 

“And here I thought you’d gone soft,” she hissed, pushing back a little, leaning forward to feel the hand that he’d placed at her throat. For better or worse, he was her mate, and they’d had no contact for over a century. She was reveling in the edge that he was showing. This was a man she recognized, even if he rarely directed this side at her. “Glad to see that I was at least a little mistaken. Good to know that you’re still you, under that domesticated surface.” 

She wasn’t sure how to take the comment that he’d thought her dead. He was the one who’d almost died. She’d just been forced back, unable to get to him, and by the time she got back there he was gone. “Sorry to disappoint, darling, but no. I’m not dead at all.” 

His hand tightened around her throat, even as she voluntarily pressed against his hold. He was not so far into the shift that he could not register her actions. It was so completely Orianna, that it forced his mind back a bit. “I am many things, soft isn’t one of them.” He’s become complacent in his life, accepting of the second chance he had been given and grateful for the pack that had saved his life a century ago. That was not soft, not exactly. 

He had lived many lives in his nearly three and half centuries, a domestic one was never one of them. She was right though, at least in part, the world he lived in now was domestic. He had a daughter and a family and none of it included her. None of it included her...

He pulled back slightly, the gold in his eyes fading back to blue. He was not disappointed that she was alive, how could he be? She was his mate. He had mourned her passing and vowed to never take another. A century had passed without her and he could remember the day he lost her as though no time had passed at all. He was not disappointed. Not even close. 

His hand slid from her throat up into her hair and he pulled her in close, his lips pressed hard to hers. He was not disappointed to find that she was alive, she needed to know that. He would have never left had he known... He would have looked for her. 

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

[twilightdarkandlovely]

A Face from the Past || Julian & Orianna

She’d been watching him now for weeks. Ever since her resolve had finally worn down and she’d stopped keeping her distance. He had carved out a neat little life for himself here. A place in Liam Ainsley’s pack, a job as some bleeding-heart social worker, even a little daughter—though she was starting to suspect that the daughter wasn’t as young as she’d thought at first, just small. And a witch. So clearly there was a story there. A story that she was starting to get more and more curious to hear from Julian himself. 

Because this was nothing like the man she’d once known. For the longest time she’d stayed away, thinking that he’d been done with the life they’d lead. He’d joined a pacifist pack, after all. And he hadn’t ever looked for her. She’d taken that as a message, clear as day. 

But a few centuries tended to dull her discipline and made her miss the man who’d been by her side for years. The man who’d been her partner, her mate, the one person in the world who knew her as more than some phantom legend that heralded death. 

She’d situated herself in one of the small side streets that he tended to use as a shortcut, and waited for him to appear. He was predictable now. She’d find it amusing if it was also so deeply troubling. 

She was leaning up against the wall, one boot-clad foot resting against the exposed bricks. It was a nice wall. Good cover from the street. No one would be able to see her until they got up close. 

Footsteps approached and she saw her wayward mate come into view. “Well hello there darling,” she said, her voice carrying enough that he could hear her. “Fancy finding you here after all these long years.” 

@shadowed-dawn

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

The snow from the blizzard had cleared in many spots but it was still piled high in many of the allies and parking lots. Julian didn’t always drive, nor did he feel the need to so instead he’d taken to walking to and from work. It was easier than dealing with the traffic and fighting with the plows and deicers. He was happy for the exercise. It afforded him a moment to himself without the stress of being in the car. 

His day had gone according to plan. The few kids that he’d placed in homes had been checked up on and were doing great. One of them had even been adopted. That was possibly one of the only good things about this particular job. There was never a dull moment and often times, walking into an unknown situation had danger written all over. He didn’t find himself fearful in those situations, though. Contrary to what many thought about him and his sage act, he rather liked the adrenaline rush that went with his job. 

He wasn’t the type of social worker that checked on trivial complaints. He was the last line of defense, he was the one they called when things went wrong. He was the one they called for all-out extraction. Today, though, he got to oversee an adoption and that was actually a pretty good feeling. A little kid for a forever home as they called it. He wasn’t stuck in the system, worrying that he might suffer at the hands of an adult he had foolishly trusted. Julian had found he was proud of that part of his job. 

He was cutting through one of the allies on his way back to the tower, his jacket synched tight around him and his hands in his pocket. It was only a moment in the ally when he stopped. The scent, while completely new to the area was not new to him. His nostrils flared, his hackles raised in a moment, that was until he spotted her. 

All thoughts in his head vanished as he rushed forward, teeth bared. His dark blue eyes shifting to light gold, threatening a full shift into the grey wolf he hid under the surface. His hand wrapped around the woman’s throat and he pinned her to the wall, her head cracking against it. “You’re dead,” he growled. She was dead. They’d both been caught in the explosion. There was no way she made it out. He had barely survived and she... “You’re supposed to be dead.” 

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

Escape || Avery + Bastian

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

twilightdarkandlovely:

“As if they wanted this. I can’t see that this was a mistake they’d make, and the fact that they never came to investigate. I don’t like this. I don’t trust it.” He sighed. He hadn’t thought he still had to play these sorts of games. This was the sort of thing he connected with the mortal world and it’s useless politics, not with Hell. Though perhaps it wasn’t that big of a shock. He knew that sort of thing went on, he just tried to stay out of it personally. He hadn’t expected it to involve him being marooned topside. 

“And it is love, it’s just not the type of love they described. Not some silly infatuation. It’s something else. She’s in love with some tree spirit, so she’d not chasing down an old boyfriend. It’s her brother, she’s said.” That was perhaps even more abiding. Familial love could be… complicated. It made people do extreme things. It had even made him do something extreme, once upon a time, as much as he never spoke of it. Beyond that… it was unlikely that those who sent him were really so ignorant of her relationship to the intended target. 

“I don’t know how to change my mind,” he said with a sigh. “She won’t let me go back to hell until she gets her soul, and I can’t get her the soul without going back to hell. And even if we reach some compromise and she does let me back to get it, I’m entertaining no notions that the higher-ups will be at all pleased with my actions. It would likely be dangerous to go back. Either way we look at this…” he shrugged. He wasn’t in an enviable position. 

Her eyes narrowed, contemplation shinning. Yes, it sounded like this had been the plan all along. Remove him from hell, lock him out. What was it they were planning that meant he needed to leave? Bastian wasn’t one to play politics, but he was formidable and he certainly had her and her minions on his side should he have needed them. 

Her eyes widened in shock, though why she was shocked, she didn’t really know. “They put you between a god’s soul and a goddess trying to get him out?” That was... That was so very over the top. They had to have known this would be the result. They had to expect that the goddess would retaliate. Her beloved had been betrayed by the powers that be. Her jaw set, anger blazing in her eyes, though this time directed not at him but at the commanders of hell. 

“So, you have a few options. Stay here, forever,” she was not a fan of this one because it meant she was stuck there too. “Tell her you’ll get her soul and trick her into letting you free, which... is unlikely to work, or and this is the option I’m inclined to go with. Get her soul for her and royally fuck over hell.” He’d already been shown just how valuable they felt he was... which was to say not. Why not take back his power and prove to them that they messed with the wrong prince of hell? 

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

Winter Wonderland || Liam & Miranda

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

twilightdarkandlovely:

A huge grin spread across her face. As much as she’d have understood if he wanted to keep their adventures between them, it was nice to know she wasn’t something he was ashamed of. Not that she’d really had doubts, but she liked to hear it nevertheless. It was something different than how she normally felt with people, given that she tended to swan off after a few rounds and move on to the next person who caught her eye. But for some reason, with him, it mattered more. 

But Miranda wasn’t the type to examine that type of thing. She just moved closer to him, wrapping her arm around him under the arm he had around her. They were walking in step, though that was probably from him altering his stride. She was significantly shorter than he was, and he was just that type of person who’d match her steps so she didn’t have to struggle to keep up. “They closed the entire district?” she asked, glancing up at him. “That sounds a bit extreme. Is this storm more severe than I think?”

It did seem like an extreme measure, but he understood the council’s choice, “They’re running on auxiliary power right now, they can’t sustain the residence in there right now so those of us outside have to make do. Though, truthfully, I think  it has more to do with the fact that its buried under snow and while they have witches that could likely remove the snow, it might look a bit suspect if they allow them to clear the way.” He didn’t really mind. He knew where his son was and he knew Phae was safe as well. The rest of his pack could take care of themselves better than anyone. Most of them were from Canada right along with him. 

“My lockout is your gain, though.” His grin was cheeky and dangerous. “We don’t have to worry about interrupting others in the packhouse with our fun.” A hotel room really was the best option for what he had in mind for her. 

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Bruised and bloodied || Marc + Phaedra

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twilightdarkandlovely:

She smiled, soft and genuine while she glanced up at him. “Thank you,” she said, taking the compliment. She might have a lot of insecurities when it came to most aspects of her life, but her healing abilities she was confident in. She knew that she was talented, and she worked hard to try and always be improving, be it in the spell-work or in her bedside manner. “That’s the hard part done, at least. Your bones are set and mostly mended. I’m just going to work on fixing the swelling and the bruising now.” 

She went back to focusing on her magic, though this part was honestly far easier. Everything was aligned, she just had to soothe the swelling and get rid of the bruises. This was something she had an excess of experience with. She grew up with a rambunctious younger brother. She wasn’t sure which of them got more bruises when she was little, but she’d learned how to get them to melt away before she’d even started high school. 

“It should be almost gone,” she said, as she finished up with the bruises, moving on to the bruises on the other side of his body. “Tell me if it hurts anywhere else?” She didn’t think she missed anything, but she’d just been focused on his ribs so far. He could easily have other injuries that he’d like to have looked at after she got his chest back to it’s normal, unbruised state. 

With the ribs set, Marc allowed himself that deep breath before he sat back a bit farther on the cot. He was letting all the tension go from his body. The pain had made him stiff and with it easing, he found it easier to let himself just kind of puddle. He was a big man, losing his strength, letting it go was not always easy, but he let himself become more pliable and he shut his eyes. “I owe you one,” he told her, his voice soft and low. 

He could barely even feel the ribs anymore. His body was easily picking up where her magic had left off. It was nice to be able to take deep breaths and let himself relax. It certainly wasn’t the worst injury he’d had, but it was probably the worst he’d had from the ring itself. He’d only been fighting for a few months so he was still one of the newcomers. The temperamental Blonde and pint-sized vampire were still sizing him up, but he was putting on a good show for them and bringing in the money, which was ultimately what they cared about. 

“Naw,” Marc said opening his eyes. “Nothing that my natural healing abilities won’t take care of.” His lip was still split but he didn’t really care about that. It would heal by the next day. “You’ve probably got other patients to see, I shouldn’t hold you up any longer.” 

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Dinner Plans || Branwen + Rowan

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twilightdarkandlovely:

He shook his head. “My fault, was it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t recall doing anything particularly distracting. I was just standing there, attempting to make the chocolate torte for dessert, when someone suddenly had their hands all over me.” It was invigorating, that she found him as compelling as he found her. 

He watched her expression as she considered the information. She was worried, and that was concerning to him. They’d stopped being overly concerned about Bastian a while ago, when they’d realized that his idea of taking the little prince’s powers and parcelling them back out to him in small bits as a reward for good behavior was working far better than even he could have imagined. 

“I don’t think what?” he asked, his voice serious. “Bastian doesn’t go quiet, even when he’s up to his mischief.” He wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of the demon changing his patterns. The one good thing about Bastian had been that he was predictable, predictable enough that he was trainable, that they’d gotten him almost tame after all these years. Had they perhaps become too comfortable with the idea of a tame demon prince? His nature was still destructive after all. 

Her lips quirked and a tiny blush crept across her cheeks. “That is plenty distracting I’ll have you know.” His existence was distracting. It was a testament to her self-control that they were sitting there at the dinner table talking and having dinner. It was such a domestic display but she rather liked the more physical aspects of their relationship as well. Even now, after centuries together. “Why do you think I don’t let you into the kitchen anymore?” 

She sighed when her mind was forced back to Bastian. She rather liked talking about her relationship with Rowan and their exploits far better than she liked talking about the seething little demon she had on a leash. “Have you ever know him to be seen in the company of anyone, let alone a woman?” Something was poking her mind, making her think long and hard about the possibilities this help. 

“He’s married from what he’s said.” It was such a strange idea, to her. A demon married. Even she and Rowan weren’t married. It was such a strange institution, though perhaps her years of captivity had left a bitter taste in her mouth and stopped her from desiring such commitment from her beloved. “And suddenly there is a woman with him? Could it be her? Could that be his wife?”

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Escape || Avery + Bastian

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twilightdarkandlovely:

“Oh believe me, I know.” His voice was low and dangerous. “They’ve essentially abandoned me. But more than that, they completely misrepresented her to me. As if they had no idea what they were talking about at all. Or as if…” as if they were setting him up. That was the more likely possibility, as much as he didn’t want to think about it. They wouldn’t make some mistake like that. They sent him in with the wrong intel, and someone should have been sorely punished for that. Unless they’d meant the intel to be wrong. 

“She wasn’t some weak-willed goddess acting out of some silly desperate love. She’s a force. There’s nothing weak about her at all.” For a moment, he’d thought… but no. That wasn’t the case. If it was, she’d certainly be aware of it. Maybe it was a test for him, instead, though it was strange that they’d decide to do that after all of these years. But he wasn’t some young thing anymore. He’d been at this for years, and if it was a test, he was passing. Or at least he thought he was. 

“I wasn’t about to give in to her, and she wasn’t about to let me back. She still wants the soul, and keeping me here is… well, sending a message I suppose.” He had most of his powers back, at least, though she hadn’t taken those right off the bat. She’d just stranded him and then stripped him of his powers after he’d spent a few months going on murderous, rage-fueled rampages around the city. 

She rose slowly from her seat and walked over to him. The low dangerous tone of his voice pulling her from her thoughts and making her move. “As if what, my love?” She asked gently. She was no longer angry with him. The story he told, the bits of info he gave her previously with the knowledge she had now, made her wonder if this hadn’t been the plan all along. To what end, though? Bastian was a loyal prince of hell, he had served them without fail. 

“Why does she want the soul?” Love was possibly the only reason Avery could see going out of her way to break into hell and pull a soul out. She was willing to fight a goddess to get her husband back... technically still is, but she was going to listen to Bastian, perhaps they could figure this out without her needing to fight her. “If not for love, I mean. Why would she risk a trip to hell?” 

She stepped closer to him, her hand reaching out for his tie, this time to smooth down the fabric. It was still wrinkled were she had grabbed it the first time. “Have you considered changing your mind?” Thoughts swam through Avery’s mind. There were ways around this. They had to go into hell to get this could. It would be so easy to go back on his word once they were down there. She wouldn’t be able to, her word was her bound. It was a contract, but Bastian didn’t have that issue. He could easily renege on a promise without thought.

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Winter Wonderland || Liam & Miranda

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twilightdarkandlovely:

“Because we’re closer to the hotel than to your place, or because you don’t want to explain to your pack why you’re dragging back your favorite fae for a private interlude?” she asked, her fingers trailing up his arm. She honesty didn’t mind if people knew, but she could understand if maybe he didn’t want to broadcast his trysts to everyone. He had a family here, and a reputation. So she’d follow his lead on that, though she wasn’t above teasing him a little. 

“I think I know the way back,” she said, glancing around critically. She tended to have a decent sense of direction; she couldn’t tell anyone else how to get somewhere, but she could get there herself somehow. “If you don’t mind walking aways. I know that won’t be such a hardship for you of course.” He seemed like a kid in a candy shop with all of this snow swirling around him. 

Liam sided eyed Miranda and scoffed. “Do you really believe I wouldn’t be perfectly willing to take you back to my place?” Liam had no need to explain his choices to his pack, not when it came to Miranda. They all knew who she was and what her being in town meant. He wasn’t exactly shy when it came to things of that nature. He was private, yes, but not shy. “The Tower District is closed because of the snow, we couldn’t get in if we wanted to.” That was the only reason he had suggested her hotel and not his place. 

He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “Seeing as I was already out for a walk, we might as well make it one with a logical destination in mind.” He turned them around and headed in the direction of her hotel. He’d been there once before and even in the snow his sense of direction was perfectly intact. 

[shadowed-dawn-blog]

Bruised and bloodied || Marc + Phaedra

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twilightdarkandlovely:

She nodded. “Alright,” she said, her voice quiet. She was more focused on what she was doing, rather than putting him at ease. He seemed to be handling this startlingly well, but then, he was an EMT. So he likely knew a lot more about what was going on inside his body than some of the others, who ended up panicked and thrashed around and made things worse for themselves. 

She kept her eyes closed, still gently guiding the rib back into place, then encouraging it to knit together. Once it was enough to hold, she moved on, repeating the motion with the other broken rib. That one had been less of a concern, given that it wasn’t pressed up against his lung. Getting them both in place would allow her to knit the bones all at once. 

It didn’t take long before she had them aligned, and she released the hold she’d placed to keep his body from healing with the ribs misaligned. The ribs were eager to fix themselves, and she sped the process along, encouraging them to become solid and whole, reinforcing the weak area where they’d been split. “There, that should feel better. Are you still feeling any sharp pain?” she asked, opening her eyes to look at him.

Marc did his best to relax while Phaedra set to work on his ribs. He’s had worse injuries than this, he knew that, but he still understood that he needed the assist on the healing here. Ribs were a tricky business at the best of times. His quick healing actually made it worst where other injuries were often dealt with easier. He took shallow breaths, though he longed for one deep one. It was far more difficult to remind himself that he couldn’t take one than he thought it would be. 

Marc had been an EMT for decades. In Hawaii, where he’d grown up and lived for most of his life, his rig had been all over the island. He knew what he was doing and frequently went back for refresher courses. Medicine had changed so much in the last century, it was important for him to keep up to date on the practices. So he let himself relax, his focus on the woman in front of him working so gently to patch him up. 

He smiled softly rather taken by the image of her working. He knew of her, had seen her in the medical center, even dropped a few patients on her plate over the eight months he’d been in town, but he’d never actually stopped to look at her or really pay much attention. “No. No that’s good. You’re good at this,” he said when she spoke. His pain had subsided rather considerably, though when he couldn’t exactly say. She’d effectively distracted him.