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@fearoverfate liked for a starter...

“It’s not like I’m running a brothel.”

{ Except he is. }

#fearoverfater #{ dominating love }#bringing back this starter because it's my fave

charmingrebels liked for a starter

Damien had heard whispers of something called The Rebel Club. A place for humans and fae alike to meet. Fae was an interesting word, something like a catch all for supernatural creatures, at least that was what he assumed it meant here. If that were what was meant by fae, he entirely fit the bill. Immortal? Check. Powers? Check. Still, his kind was rarely talked about. Personifications were extremely rare compared to, say vampires. Or maybe they had just hidden better. Kept away from the history books. As far as most of society was concerned, he didn’t exist. It was better that way, though. He only told certain people about his secret, usually those important to him. Lovers.

Though Damien mainly kept in touch with other personifications of love, he had always had an interest in immortal beings. Not that all fae were immortal. But it couldn’t hurt to surround himself with those who were. If there was anything Damien knew from his incredibly long time on the planet, it was loneliness. So many loved ones had been torn from his grasp. But immortals, they couldn’t really, could they? Though these creatures probably didn’t relate to him more than he related to humans, there were upsides of keeping in with a supernatural clan. Damien was all about connections. He kept them in his back pocket for later, in case something came up. There was never any danger for him personally, but he thought of his “family”. Raina was dying. Ever so slowly, but in ten years, perhaps she would be gone. Erased from existence like she had never been there. Damien couldn’t have that.

Was he more likely to find a lover for her within the club? Maybe not. Fae and humans were hardly different on the basic level of love. The difference? A human would be a temporary fix for Raina, something that would last sixty years if she was lucky. Sixty years like he had had with Marie. Too short. She needed something that would last, particularly with her type of love. Damien, himself could get what he needed from almost anyone. But pure love was much harder to come by.

Aneirin Taylor was the leader of the club. An incubus, Damien had heard. Well, it would appear they had a lot in common then. Damien got a lot of his “food” from sex, although that wasn’t necessarily the be all end all. Perhaps Damien was a bit curious about the man. They could perhaps engage in a mutually beneficial contract. Although, Damien hadn’t heard much about the man, and he was generally weary of men. Some of them couldn’t be tamed, especially supernatural ones. He thought of his “partner” Mike. He asserted quite a bit of dominance over Mike, and yet the younger man fought him at every turn. Mike needed money, and some weak definition of authority over humans. Damien could give him both. But would Aneirin really need Damien’s help? Probably not. As an incubus, he fed off sexual energy. Damien hadn’t spent a lot of time around them, but he was fairly certain there was an element of persuasion involved. Magic persuasion. If that were true, it would be easy for Aneirin to find lovers, to find food. Damien would be a fool ot think he was special. All he had was an interesting story and his physical appearance. That may not be enough to persuade an incubus. But Damien found he rather liked the idea of trying.

An incubus wouldn’t do for Raina, his sister. She needed something more stable, more friendly. Perhaps there would be angels at this Rebel Club. Fairies might be even better. Although Damien’s family now referred to themselves as demi-gods, Damien had always felt a particular affinity for the term fairy. Powerful, magicial, beautiful, and yet... still human. He looked at his daughters, with their clear complexion and the sparkle in their eyes, and saw fairies. Princesses. Queens. The stuff of fairy tales. But that was really more of Raina’s domain. And she deserved that fairy tale. A fairy tale he could never give her...

“I want into the club. Plus five.”

#charmingrebels #{ dominating love }

burntbreadpeeta

It was a move that was almost as old as Damien himself. He had gotten Peeta flowers. Buttercups, if he recalled correctly, but he really only was certain about the staples. He was familiar with roses, daisies, carnations, sunflowers, and that was about it. But still, he had gone and picked the yellow flowers himself. He remembered a time when you could buy nice flowers in a store, with long stems, in a bouquet. Instead he had to settle for a handful of flowers that would die in a matter of days. Funny how things came back to where they started from. Damien knocked on Peeta's door, feeling confident. He didn't think it would be hard to convince the boy, and that was really half the battle. Keeping him would be the other half. If that indeed was what Damien wanted to do. And he realized it was. It wasn't just that love was hard to come by in these troubled times. It was Peeta himself. Damien told himself that he could love anyone just the same, regardless of what they were like, but then why did Peeta hold an extra appeal that came only every once in a blue moon?

#burntbreadpeeta #{ dominating love }

ourintimationsofmortality

Damien opened the door to Oliver's place quietly, hoping to sneak in. Oliver's place. That's how he thought of it, even though technically he lived here. There was probably no use in being quiet though, Oliver would be waiting. After dropping a bombshell like "I'm a whore," on him, sleeping would be a tad bit difficult. Damien wondered why he bothered. He could get what he needed elsewhere, and with relative ease. But still somehow Oliver had convinced Damien into his home and into his heart. Frowning, Damien wondered if he should just leave. There was no way this conversation was going to end well. He might hurt Oliver. Physically. Emotionally, for sure. There was no way he could explain who he was, what he was. There wasn't even really a modern day term for it. Why the hell had he even started to admit it?

"Oliver?" he called out. "Get your ass out of bed. I need to talk to you."

#ourintimationsofmortality #{ dominating love }