sincreator

[sincreator]

❤️🙏🏻

[sincreator]

the empress of ayodhaya

[sincreator]

closed starter for @serxssa location: Hell's Bells

Ever since the war much of what she'd taken for granted pushed itself to the forefront of her mind. Family, just like Serissa, had to be cherished and taken care of. Despite spending fifteen years with her and Adatiel, the last bit of family if one also excluded the Pluto vampires and Prometheus, Atarniel still had a lot of catching up to do, a lot to explain. So, as they sat within Hayliel's Hell's Bells, the Fallen didn't even attempt to deceive the other, but be as truthful as she could possibly be. "I was thinking about us. All of us. The Seraphim, Nephilim, our family. If we ignore the Archfiends for too long, your other uncles and aunts, we might be in great danger. I know, you might be scared, as am I." She didn't avert her gaze or tried to sugarcoat the truth, "some say they cannot be persuaded to aim for peace, but we can at least try."

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[sincreator]

None of them ever had a chance in the matter. Once the war had started everybody had to either fight and hope for the best or perish instantly. The Old Gods clearly didn't care for mercy, didn't care about one's age or species background. All what mattered was the complete destruction and the (almost) inevitable end to all. The Rebels had managed to revert this terror, to undo what had been done, but Zeke remained gone. Adatiel, Marisol, Gabriel, Kaan and Titania, too. They'd all sacrificed themselves for the greater good. Atarniel finally understood the importance of utilizing every day like it's your last. Even as a Seraphim, fallen or not, life could be over in no time. The End was always an option and she couldn't bear the fact of not having done enough, of not living when it truly mattered. She took her relationships for granted at times, her work, herself. Atarniel desired to be at peace with herself, to, for once, truly live and not be forced to constantly run away from those that wanted to harm her or her kind. If things ended badly, the next time around, in a week, in a year, in a decade, she'd have nothing to regret. Ever again.

Atarniel snapped out of her rigidity, with her eyes quickly moving to examine his face, his expression. Somewhat riddled with disbelief and a darkness she couldn't quite explain. Immortal or not, she didn't want to waste another day hiding who or what she wanted. "I've spent 15 years recalling the day we met, the way we danced and joked around, playing our lawless games, I lost everything, everyone. I only had your brother and all other rebels to lean against for so long, I finally opened my heart to the idea of what I truly want." Atarniel tensed her jaw, her heartbeat only increasing as the tension between them increased, "Do you think you're not worthy of love? Are you scared this might be too real?" she raised one eyebrow, almost to challenge him, "Do you not realize you represent everything I've ever wanted? A partner, with a similar mentality, an appreciation for the finer things in life, someone I can be myself with? Well, maybe you're just too weak to take us to the next level. I should've known you were just joking with your stupid play house talk." the Fallen sighed before turning around.

Salvador burned quietly, a match that had been lit but would not erupt; through everything the Lush had to figure that Hakan had turned him for his resolve alone. Perhaps it was one of the few, very few, things they had in common; one of the others only being a staple within vampires considering it revolved around blood. Jealousy seemed to teem within the Lush, how Zeke so effortlessly taught Hakan to step out of his rigid [coffin] box whereas Salvador had always been met with steely indifference. The Lush understood there was care there, Hakan had once killed his own to prove a point of cruelty; but Salvador, much like the lush bounties of blood he had in reserve, would constantly seek more. The guilt bled forward at the mere thought, to be jealous of someone who Death had claimed, an ultimate sacrifice which wrought Hakan's grueling grief and a damned statue in the midst of Rome to show of it. All of this was wrong; Zeke was the optimism amidst the war, sure he'd become frustrated as many treated him like broken glass, but he'd unintentionally become this beacon to protect; the vitality of youth. How foolish they'd all been to devise him as untouchable, under his unassuming youth came unyielding strength and perhaps that was what inspired Salvador's scorn the most; how Zeke had made the most difficult choice for a motley of strangers, for all the loved ones he'd lost. An ignorant and mortal mind could not come to terms with such decision and yet Zeke, having only been a vampire for such a short spurt of time, had done so effortlessly.

Salvador grimaced, "You don't mean that," love was difficult for a creature who lived forever and though it wasn't an outright rejection to her powerful statement, the Lush scowled. He leaned into Atarniel's silent support as though willing himself not to need it; relying on others only meant trouble and though they'd been separated by years he'd never understand, she was something solid to lean against, something that was still fresh on his mind whereas fifteen years disjointed him from hers. Fifteen years and yet still she proclaimed love for him, "You're something very special, Atarniel." And he was sorry for the cruel games they'd both played before Death had humbled them.

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For some reason losing her grace, her wings, her status as a blessed, had been less of a leap than this. This, with him, felt more like an all or nothing situation. Nothing she really had to push herself into, but it did take more courage to take that next step. Oh, how she'd starved within these 15 years, longing for him. His absence had felt like looking into a mirror and seeing no reflection, like a first glance at something immaculate and knowing it could never be hers again. While she prided herself on being independent, she slowly acknowledged the fact that she also longed to be with him at all times. Not to fully depend on him, something she'd always deny, but to stand by his side, as an equal, a kindred spirit. Biting her lip ever so slightly, the Seraphim let him examine her fully, his dark eyes looking at every inch of her face, her neck.

Quickly breathing in, the Seraphim held her breath for the duration of his kiss against her neck. With her chin tilted upward, she let him take over, to give him more space and freedom. "Look into the depths of your heart. That's where you'll find me. That's where I truly am, what I truly am." She had no problem losing herself in someone completely. She'd done so with Pelorus before, she could easily do so with Salvador. They were so alike, in the way they behaved, controlled others, lived their hedonistic, oftentimes destructive lifestyle to the extreme. Having him would mean everything and more to her. Deepening the kiss, her slender fingers moved alongside his neck, through his dark hair, to grab it tightly, with some force, as their tongues collided. The other hand remained on his shirt, carelessly dragging alongside his cold skin, downward, until the last button was opened and she reached to his pants. Leaning back once he removed himself from her, Atarniel could feel the goosebumps forming merely from his touch, the way he slowly removed the strap. "Yes, and I'll bless you in return." The Seraphim hummed, which quickly turned into a slight moan. "worship you," despite his cold lips, every kiss of his burned against her skin, let her heart race, "let this be our paradise. Our forever."

"You can have anything you want and more, so long as you have the courage to take it," a teasing candor cushioned his words, speaking less about Atarniel specifically and more about any circumstance as a whole. Being fearless in his own ambitions allowed the Lush to build his life in Rome today, climbing to the top of whatever influence being situated as a Pluto marshal allowed him. Splendor, opulence, nothing was unable to be uncharted as the Lush built and wove connections throughout the bustling supernatural beacon; and though she fell, caught off from her true divinity, Salvador understood that Atarniel was no different in her drive to succeed. For the first time since they'd sparked this, once game, between them, the Lush took a moment to really look at Atarniel, taking in the slender slope of each cheekbone on her vessel, eyes ablaze with the splintered divinity barely contained within her; she was beautiful, sure, but her attitude transcended any superficial attractions they once had. She wore the face of an old lover, one who he once so passionately indulged with, but Atarniel was her own being and Salvador was swiftly coming to appreciate that all the more as time went on.

"Maybe," a small grin, eyes finding hers, "I once thought I had you all figured out but I'm humble enough to admit when I've got it wrong." Playfully, the Lush nudged her before his lips found purchase on the crook of her jaw and then upon the untouchable vein which throbbed mercilessly in her neck. How often he craved just a taste of such lethality, his fangs ached, but Salvador was not foolish enough to fall prey to such lulling trap. Atarniel grappled with control between them, a typical dance, as she pulled Salvador's face up to hers and kissed him with unmasked intensity, the Lush not wasting a moment to reciprocate, his tongue voraciously entwined with hers. She spoke in a hushed tone between each fervent lock of lips and Salvador could simply mirror her, grinning back as her fingers nimbly undid the buttons on his shirt, "Worshiped, huh?" His hands brushed away at the strap of her shirt, the fabric falling loosely down the side of her arm as the Lush broke them apart and kissed down the sharp plane of her collarbone.

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Atarniel's grin widened at Marco's sudden panic. She patiently waited for him to stop, collect his thoughts, as long as his mind seemed to race, as long as he'd things to say about that. "Possibly," the Seraphim huffed followed by a slight nod, "you're doing amazing, don't worry. The fact that Sariel hasn't told me about you beforehand means she's pretty serious about you." The Seraphim shrugged, "So, where did you guys meet, anyway?" The way he spoke about her only signalized Atarniel that he was one of the better choices for her. Kind, a gentleman, at first glance. "Come on, we can certainly talk over dinner, like you proposed," Atarniel chuckled, "lead the way."

"Propose?" The panic in his voice was immediate as he started stammering through the paces of how they'd really only just met and they're really only just- Marco didn't finish that thought though because he wasn't about to talk about his or their sex lives. Especially when everything was still so new. Marco felt his cheeks get hot as he tugged at his collar and actively tried not to think about the night they'd spent together before the opening of his restaurant. "No no, I definitely um, I definitely want to know about her but I'm not looking at rings that'd be crazy."

[sincreator]

The battle between the species was pointless to the Seraphim. The Discordia, thriving on such battles, should've been glad to see them fight and spread hatred, but another part of her just longed for peace after 15 years of war, even just for a short while. "I've almost always been a bystander, an instigator. The only times I've been involved were the times my siblings died," at your brother's unwilling hands. The Seraphim chuckled, "no, we weren't, you're right. Not really, anyway." Through Loukia, her vessel, yes, but for her it all felt real. "That's where you're wrong," she grinned as the Seraphim mirrored Pelorus' words. With the side of her hip pressed against the table, Atarniel just looked at the other Marshals, to really look at the different faces, to inspect them, see if she could detect hidden motives. "No need to comment on anything, Pelorus. Maybe making 'poor choices' is on brand for me," she looked back towards him, smirking and chuckling, indicating she wasn't being serious. "At least you're having fun after everything. Do you.. remember anything from the war?"

"Ah Atarniel, that's where you're wrong. This is all of our battles. You just choose not to acknowledge it." His shoulders lifted in a shrug. It didn't much matter to Pelorus where her loyalties lay. If she wanted to fuck a vampire, she could fuck a vampire. If she wanted to declare she was a lycan woman, then she could be a lycan woman. At the end of the day, it was of no concern to him and he was absolutely not going to pretend that it was. "We can't have a divorce if we were never married." He lifted his foot onto the bench he was sat upon and looked around the forum. "If you don't like what I'm saying, you know y ou don't have to listen, right?" He was sure Atarniel was incapable of not getting her two cents in though. They were alike in that way. "Commenting on your love life? I'm commenting on your poor choices. Big difference." He leaned back slightly. "I've found plenty of people to fuck though. Most of them are pretty boring though."

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"I am," she muttered, unable to deny his statement. Maybe she should've, to keep being brave despite everything. The liar and deceiver, it would've been easy to just lie, but she didn't. Atarniel absentmindedly scratched her arm, "and when the time comes I'll know I've lived under nobody's rule but my own. Graceless, but fulfilled." She looked at her sibling, peacefully, neutral, "Father's gone mad and there's no guarantee for any of us. Michael, you, who's to say Lucifer will keep their entourage like it is now?" Seraphim could be the ultimate traitors, she knew that much. "And you're a plague on this Earth. I'm sure you'll be as infectious as ever."

"You don't seem too worried." Dumah commented as he finished his drink, then tapped the bar to signify he was ready for another, "At least Uriel and I have a fighting chance." He'd have to watch Hayliel closely in the days ahead. "You though? They're going to skin you alive." A graceless seraphim who hadn't fallen alongside them but fought against them, who hadn't seen her siblings' cause worthy but was discovered to be a bad storyteller instead. "But you're slippery, I'm sure you'll figure something out."

[sincreator]

💐

[sincreator]

davika wearing blumarine 🌸

[sincreator]

"Sariel?" Oh, oh. The Fallen eventually realized what was happening and cleared her throat. Atarniel's eyes were open wide while the confusion began to subside. Luckily Marco had made his intentions clear or else Atarniel would've been none the wiser about his actual plans, awkward as he was. Real cute, definitely someone for Sariel. "Sapphire blue, so any sapphire ring will do if you do propose. You have my blessing," was she joking? Probably not. With one eyebrow raised, the Fallen smirked at the witch, "she also loves chocolate muffins, so why don't you take her out on a picnic underneath the stars? We're ancient, doesn't mean we don't love to be worshipped and courted." the Fallen shrugged, "are you... trying to collect as much information about her as possible? You found me via a locator spell."

"Sorry well uh, Sariel and I have been spending a lot of time together so one of my friends helped me do a locator spell to find more of her fallen family." Marco realised he'd never really explained that part to the fallen, but he just wanted to get to know more about Sariel. She was a detective and kind of shady, but truthfully Marco liked that about her, so if he was snooping around about her behind her back? He imagined she'd find it endearing. Asking a stiff Blessed like Michael probably wasn't a good idea, but Fallen? That had to be a safe bet. "Is it weird that I want to ask you about her? You can say it's weird, it's probably um- yeah it's probably weird right but like, you know, what's her favourite colour?"

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"I know, vampires prefer to stay in their own little bubbles, with their sire, progenies and whatever Thrall they can create," Atarniel raised an eyebrow, "doesn't stop me from taking what I want," who she wants, as per usual. Atarniel sighed at that thought. No matter what the future held for them, she'd always encourage Salvador to check up on his sire as much as possible. This wasn't supposed to be goodbye, but rather her trying to make up for lost time and actually, finally, really being fully unapologetic about what she desired, to be selfish. Eyeing the vampire, the Seraphim kept her head slightly tilted to the side while trying to really decipher his facial expression. "You could say that. I had 15 years to think everything through. Wishful thinking, I thought I'd lost you forever," meaning these ideas would've never happen to begin with, but what else was there other than taking care of Haven, entertaining the others and talking to them or, eventually, fuck them? Everything about today still felt so surreal, like she was trapped in a dream of sorts. Salvador was alive, but she'd not only lost Adatiel in the process but also Ezekiel, all the others that have sacrifices themselves for the bigger picture.

Hearing him getting closer, the Seraphim sat up again, with him now being dangerously close to her. The weight of him caused the mattress to sink slightly, and, as he pulled her close, dangerously close, Atarniel could feel her own heart beating rapidly within her chest, like a drum. "And what's that, exactly? To peek behind the smoke and mirrors? To find out who I truly am?" She'd confessed her true intentions to those who'd survived, knowing the world would soon end. Her eyes frantically examined his face, taking him in completely. Reciprocating the kiss, Atarniel hummed slightly as he placed his lips against her jaw. Touch-starved, in a way, but also not, she felt terrible for what she'd done, but at the same time unapologetic, knowing it was the right thing to do, a moment of lust and passion, shared with a person she deeply cares for. Pushing those thoughts aside, Atarniel let her own hand wander. Grabbing his jaw, Atarniel pushed Salvador's head upward again, connecting their lips with the kind of passion all too familiar to both of them. "Don't leave me again. Don't ever leave me," she practically scolded him, but there was a clear indication of desire, of fear, within her voice. Unbuttoning his shirt, the Fallen just grinned into the kiss, "Guess you don't hate me after all. You," she kissed him once more, "should really make up your mind. I know all I want is to be worshipped."

"Look, vampires have their palaces for each bloodline, my sire has a damned castle for Chrissake," a weak chuckle left him, "But it's not all breaking bread and family bonds." Salvador had learned to live with the scant amounts of emotion that Hakan offered him, the faintest inflections which told of Hakan's unyielding care for the Lush. "I'll always have a place at the Pluto Palace, in Hakan's castle but, we're our own people, you know." The Lush nudged her, it was adorably innocuous of Atarniel to be surprised within his decision. "I'd like to figure I'd have much more fun here anyhow," he found it impossible not to touch her, how often he craved for his hands to merely roam over the Discordia whenever they were met with idle time. Vacating the castle didn't mean he'd become an enigma nor a distant memory, it was Salvador's duty to harass Hakan to ensure he was coping well enough to survive. Well, less about the Dracul surviving and more about him sparing others throughout his stages of grief.

That lapse of surprise Atarniel often wore on his face within the Lush's presence was something he relished, a sordid need to continuously outdo himself if it meant he'd come to best her within their silent competitions. "You've really thought of everything," Salvador's dark eyes flitting around the abode, taking in each sight and all the attention to detail Atarniel focused upon. Typical of their silent competition, Atarniel did her best to recover, pulling Salvador along and up the winding stairs which led to their designed bedroom. Her hand slipped from his once they were at the entryway, the fallen letting herself fall backwards onto the neatly made bed, arms outstretched as though she were keen to take up the space entirely for herself. Salvador took another moment to peer around the room, he noted the craft of the furniture, the carefully selected wall color; each detail screamed that Atarniel was worried about his viewpoint. It allowed him to smile to himself, content that somewhere within the horrid fifteen years she had suffered through, that the Lush had still managed to weasel his way towards the forefront of her thoughts. Salvador invaded her space as Atarniel sat up, his palms splayed out on the bed to prop him face to face with her. His head canted to the side, a beaming grin adorning his features, "I've got fifteen years to make up for." Like a predator lulling their prey, the Lush had paused before one hand came up to curl around her waist and pull her even closer, their lips almost touching. "You want me here?" A soft kiss punctuated the teasing question, their lips briefly touching, "Or here?" His neck craned to the side so his lips could kiss upon the soft underbelly of her jaw.

[sincreator]

🖤 

[sincreator]

@salvadormairena

[sincreator]

Atarniel huffed, smiling at her Fallen brother, "I thought so, too. They got me on the last day, the very last day," Atarniel was still mad about that. At least she'd managed to stay alive to fulfill her tasks within the rebel squad. Still, 15 years without them had been far too long. The loss of Adatiel remained a constant reminder of what they'd lost, that the war actually happened, in another timeline. Gently squeezing Hayliel's hand, Atarniel just looked at her brother with gratitude and pride, knowing she could always rely on them, one way or another. "Who knows what would've happened if you stay on Earth? Maybe the war would've ended differently, so, absence or not, we're together again."

"Didn't Lupercal appoint a bunch of Marshals? We might have to branch out, you've got your.. Yavie," she wasn't even sure what he was to be quite honest, "I have my va-" she raised one eyebrow," various sources." The Fallen sighed, "Like, friends friends. I've met someone, actually. His name's Salvador. He's a vampire." She rolled eyes, "the sex is worth the Fall, honestly."

"And I love you, too. But I mean, I expected you guys would be alright. You were, at least." The rest of their siblings though? Astaroth. Sariel. They had met much worse fates. Atarniel had lasted until the bitter end just like he'd expected of her. He'd really expected it of all of them, but it seemed oh so interesting to him that the ones least likely to fight were the ones that had been able to save the world at the end of the day. Someone should have been patting him on the back honestly. Nevertheless, he was glad that they were all okay. Adatiel hadn't been a fallen, but her loss was the only way he had any of his siblings back now. He'd always remember that.

Hayliel only nodded his head with a slightly raised brow. "Some disrespect? I mean, I'm sure they would. They have a whole thing where they just fight each other. I'm pretty sure disrespect is always on the menu for them." Not that he ever really needed to bother caring about any of that. Hayliel raised their other brow at their sibling's words. "What exactly do you mean by 'friends'?"

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"No, I really need my own place. Look", she pointed at one of the houses in the back. It didn't look as appealing at first, the exterior definitely needed some new paint and a bit of greenery to really look appealing. "My own paradise. I've spent 15 years caged with a dozen other survivors, in a small village, I need my space." Atarniel scoffed, "I also met someone. It'll be the perfect opportunity to start a new life and I'm wishing the same for you," she leaned against Sariel, Atarniel's own head tilted against her sister's. "And who knows? Maybe we can visit Hayliel and Yavie once the time's right?"

It's almost amusing, to see the Senate bending itself over to thank them when their service. Or it would be if they hadn't lost as much as they had over the past few months. Gone, are all the siblings that could have reached their side. Gone, it's the kind Death, the sister they all loved but could not reach. There is two surviving blessed on the mortal realm, and a scattered number of fallen. A number that will likely just keep getting smaller, despite the new and so-called treaty with the Eye regarding hunting.

Still, she at least they have cool new digs, right?

She wants to scoff, but she doesn't want to ruin Atarniel's enthusiasm, when she has gone through far more than she can imagine.

"I know Hayliel is staying with Yavie, but do you really think he won't want the big room?" She asks with amusement as she moves next to her sister and leans her head against her shoulder thoughtfully. "I do like that thought. I am sure Dumah and Hayliel will agree too."