divine veins

          wow, holy shit, it’s been a long semester.   but it’s almost over now, and i don’t plan on taking any summer classes.   so, i decided to come back to tumblr over at @shackledangels!   it’s a multi-muse blog, with all of the muses being connected to the lore my wife, and i came up with here.   anyway, if you want to write with me again, you can find me there. c:

          the fox made a face at the subtle joke;  an expression of amusement that probably remained hidden to the angel, and so, he accompanied it with a light chuckle and a playful shove of his shoulder.  the brush in the spirit’s hand was long since forgotten on the floor, leaving the canvas unfinished.

     ❝ A’ got people in Kyoto.  people who don’t exactly want to see me again.  A’m afraid A’d end up being witch-hunted.  ‘lready burying my mama there was stressful, ❞  the explanation was given in a low, fragile voice, almost as if thinking admitting this made him look weak.

                                                                 weak.  he hated that feeling.

          a moment of silence followd, one that Daisuke had decided to break with with a much upbeat tone  —  he didn’t want to scare the other away from the idea of moving.  he welcomed it, in fact.  neither of them were safe here.

     ❝ ——  but any other place is fine, really.  A’d just prefer to stay away from Kyoto. ❞

     kaede gives a mock groan at the gentle shove; the good mood dissipates with the careful words spoken by his mate. eventually, the angel pulls away from daisuke to instead scoot into the small space between him, and his canvas. the paintbrush rolls away, leaving behind a trail of paint. a cold hand takes up residence atop a warm cheek, and his thumb offers a gentle caress along the other’s cheekbone.

     “ okay . . .   but maybe somewhere close? ”   the smaller man murmurs into the silence of the makeshift studio. a faint smile crawls along his lips; there’s a glimmer of hope for something new in his unholy eyes as he peers upwards into daisuke’s mismatched eyes. the explanation given feels vague, and unfinished, but he chooses not to pry anymore.

          the spirit stopped in his endeavor upon hearing those words.  he wouldn’t even stagger if the angel were to run into him with the sudden stop in his movements.  he sighed, but with the cold wind he probably remained unheard to the other.

          there was so much Daisuke could tell him;  explain.  unbeknownst to him, Kaede somehow seemed to be quite out of the picture with the whole angel scene around Japan.  but neither of them ever asked about what the other knew, each for their own reasons, the fox believed.  in the end, he decided that maybe, just maybe, the ravenette should see and search for the answers himself, if he desires them.

     ❝ come with me…?  you’ll understand better that way, ❞  it didn’t matter if Kaede approached the facility that kept the demon prisoner anymore  —  not when he intended to destroy it, as well as killing anyone inside.  it didn’t matter, because in the end, they wouldn’t get their hands on him.  ❝ and— ❞

          he turned around, to catch the other’s wrists to bring his hands out of the shelter of the hoodie’s pockets, to have his fingers twin with Kaede’s.  it allowed him to cross the already small gap between them, while still keeping some distance given the newfound tension between them.

     ❝ Ah ain’t mad.  well, Ah am, but not at you, ❞  Daisuke paused to release one of his hands to crawl upon to the cold freckled cheek.  ❝ Ah could never. ❞

     as uncoordinated as kaede is, it’s no surprise when he does indeed bump into the demon at the sudden halt. he backs away by only a step, leaving the distance between them short enough that he can still feel the warmth radiating from his boyfriend’s larger frame. eyes travel upward at the question; confusion stains his features as he tries to decipher what it is that daisuke plans to do. clearly, he no longer intends to take him there as a prisoner ------

     more importantly, what is it that he fails to understand  ( besides everything, apparently )? the angel’s lips part to once more question the fox, but the contact of hot flesh against his cold wrists pull his attention, and his eyes away. he glances down at their hands as daisuke’s heat chases away the constant chill in his fingers. the return of feeling is as uncomfortable as it is welcomed, and he finds himself leaning a little closer without meaning to.

     daisuke only encourages this more when his hand finds his cheek. he sighs a little, and unknown tension falls away as he unconsciously leans his cheek against his boyfriend’s hand. kaede looks up once more, and answers weakly,   “ okay . . .   okay. uhm, i’ll go with you. of course i’ll go with you . . .   wasn’t that the plan from the start? ”

     his fingers tighten minutely in their hold of the fox’s hand in a silent plea to not be let go. fear still lingers in his frame, despite his trust in his boyfriend. the idea of going to the very place he’s worked so hard to avoid leaves a knot of anxiety in his chest heavy enough that he struggles to breathe properly.

     the young girl looks confused at first; then, as she reads the signs her father makes, realization brightens crimson eyes. she must have worried her other dad when she arrived home from school, and didn’t want to talk. lips purse into a gentle line at the promise to take care of her bullies, and it takes chou a long moment to decide what to say. finally, she starts to sign back,   { there are some . . .   but dad says to ignore them. }

     she pauses, and her hands fall back to her lap. her lips part, almost as if she wants to vocalize her thoughts instead, yet they eventually close, and her cold hands rise instead,   { could you teach me to fight, daddy? i want to be strong like you! }

     ❝ yeah. ❞

          his answer was simple  —  to both of those questions  —  accompanied by a small nod and a smile, while his right hand dropped to catch the mortal’s hand.  it looked uncomfortable, being twisted like this, but he’d rather let the angel feel his flesh than the metal that currently took place of his left arm.

     ❝ d’you remember me now? ❞

          without asking for consent, the fox’s stance shifted a little, both legs dropping down to hang from over the container’s edge, and he slouched his back a little to reach down for the pendant dangling from the angel’s hand.  he took it, and placed it back to its rightful place  —  around Kaede’s neck, but not before taking the ring from the necklace.  after the pendant was resting againist the angel’s chest again, the band found its place on his left ring finger aswell.

          the demon’s prosthetic claws seemed to fidget a little, as if restless for something;  his whole body was, in fact  —  the want to hold the cool body of the angel once more, to kiss the chilled lips.  but it all felt so fragile, this moment, leaving the fox unsure of if he should really act upon these desires so rashly.  still, there was one thing he couldn’t ignore  —  so, with a soft voice, he asked;

     ❝ …  d’you believe my promise of forever now? ❞

     faint awe lines the angel’s expression as he looks at the fox - turned - human . . .    except that isn’t quite right, is it? the thought of being overwhelmed passes through his mind, especially as he feels the  ( familiar )  weight of the pendant settling around his neck. the ring on his left finger brings both warmth, and bewilderment. 

                i’ve never even kissed someone before, so how can i be married?                                except --- i’ve kissed him, haven’t i? right? right . . .

     questions invade, and drag him from his thoughts. his gaze leaves the ring to return to shinzou’s face. kaede can almost feel the way his mind stutters to a halt in its attempt to find an answer. the first comes easily, and he says with the breathless eagerness of a child knowing the right answer,   “ yes, i remember you. not . . .   everything, but i definitely remember you. ”

     kaede’s fingers curl around the bandaged hand of his . . .   his what? husband, mate, or both?  --- mate, he remembers. the word carries more weight, more significance, even if he doesn’t remember why yet. the second question of the demon’s brings forth an answer with less ease than the first. promise of forever? the words sting without any reason as to why. he still stares up at the other with a forgotten affection.

     “ yes . . .   i do, ”   the angel smiles a little then. how could he not believe that after shinzou waited for him?  ( how long has he waited? )  his voice drops to almost a murmur, something quiet and heartfelt,   “ thank you. thank you for waiting. ”

     kaede’s soul aches for more, though; after feeling lost  ( abandoned )  for so long, he wants to be held by the fox. his free hand wanders up until his fingers glide along the warm flesh of the other’s pale jaw. finally, in a burst of boldness, he finds shinzou’s shirt collar, and drags him down. at the same time, he rises to his toes --- and his lips press against his mate’s. the kiss starts awkward; he’s never kissed anyone before, thanks to a certain fox scaring away all the girls he brought home.

          he listened intently, trying to find something  —  anything  —  that’d give him a valid excuse to agree to the angel’s wishes without his own ideals being threatened.  and he found it, eventually, in the words that nothing had to change.

     ❝ no…? ❞  he repeated,  ❝ jus’ the rings? ❞  he spoke slowly, thoughtfully.  this kind of proposal  —  it didn’t sound that unpleasant anymore.  if it was symbolic jewelry that his mate wanted, he could do that for him.  his free hand moved to get a better hold of the angel’s, and drag him down for a kiss.

     ❝ okay.  yes. ❞

     the tentative questions bring his wandering eyes back to shinzou’s face. hopeful curiosity lingers in his chest, making his breathing a little difficult. when kaede feels the gentle yank at his hand to pull him down, a small gasp breaks free of his lips. he nearly falls in his unpreparedness, but the hand not captured by the other’s warmer one catches him.

     still, the angel finds himself back in his mate’s lap. he settles into the warmth gingerly, and only pulls away when he hears his mate’s consent. eyes once dull with his disappointment, brighten considerably with his sudden burst of excitement.

     “ r - really? ”   kaede’s smile feels more genuine than it has since the incident with inari, and he wonders if there’s relief in his excitement ---    ‘ he really does want to stay. ’          the younger male leans into another kiss, stealing the demon’s lips with every intention of giving him something more passionate than the earlier kiss.

[ txt  /  blondie ]  he tells me things, y’know [ txt  /  blondie ]  he tries not to worry, but it’s eating him [ txt  /  blondie ]  maybe u should make sure he feels safe                          instead of acting slutty with me? [ txt  /  blondie ]  do u guys talk at all or just hope sex                          will save everything??

[ txt  /  blondie ]  man.  and they say i’m the fuckboy [ txt  /  blondie ]  i mean, sure.  if u want me to break u in                          the bedroom, i will.   it doesn’t really                          matter where ur spine snaps [ txt  /  blondie ]  but rly, u touch my mate and ur dead [ txt  /  blondie ]  jou wouldn’t like u very much either                          after that

( @divineveined​  /  continued! )

[ txt  /  blondie ]  wtf.  i’m two centuries old [ txt  /  blondie ]  u can tell me [ txt  /  blondie ]  u gotta, even.  or else i’ll break u

          the rain poured hard, enough for it to create mist that slowly crawled upwards from the ground into the air.  the mafian, uncaring to put on the hood of his jacket, let the raindrops fall on his tall frame;  though the cold was unpleasant to his already-cool flesh and the cursed blood coursing through it, and the leather he was wearing doing little to actually protect him from it.

          he forced his hands not to tremble;  fingers crushing the already-fragile lotus flowers in between them, as he slowly made his way to a faraway grove where he laid his father remains to rest.  he was alone, for once  —  without the company of two advisors.  if given a chance to think about this, it almost felt liberating  —  like he could breathe finally.  upon reaching the grave, he gave a heavy sigh.

     ❝ ——— hey, dad, ❞  the words were muffled  —  not by the rain, but rather by the way his teeth idly gnawed at his lips, as if the greeting was too difficult for him to vocalize.     ❝ can y’hear me?  see me?  —— are y’proud a’ me? ❞

          no answer  —  of course.  Shinjou gave another sigh and kneeled in front of the gravestone, laying the flowers he brought in front of it.

     ❝ A’m working really hard… ❞

     he knows better than to follow without permission. the chain around his neck gives him the freedom to wander the group’s headquarters undeterred, yet it becomes a restraint in how he can act. no longer can he show his pride, and no longer can he say no to shinjou without the fear of punishment.       --- --- and yet, today, when told to quietly wait for the demon’s return, he finds himself wanting to defy him.

     it’s the expression he wore as he commanded his pet to stay behind. he can’t ignore it; it eats at his broken heart until he can’t take the ache any longer. shinjou’s a monster. he doesn’t deserve his sympathy. he tell himself these things as he pulls on a jacket, and wraps a scarf around his neck  ( to hide the chain as much as it is to keep warm ). 

     ciro finds tracking the demon down to be a simple enough task. he guesses it’s because shinjou doesn’t believe anyone will follow when he says not to. his pace slows, and the distance between them kept with almost nervous care. still, curiosity gets the better of him, and the angel edges close enough to hear the words spoken. bewilderment traces a line across his expression. 

          a light chuckle of a matching malicious nature escaped him, and while normally he might’ve corrected the angel  ( you are one, now )  he let it slide this one time.  it made him curious if next time the blonde would be so lucky?

     ❝ nothing you have t’ worry your pretty lil’ head about, ❞  mockery,  ❝ jus’ a formality to keep the business runnin’ yanno? ❞

          Shinjou led the other into a room on the opposite end of the compound;  one where such dirt like the angels weren’t allowed to enter  —  along with most of the place, really.  he directed Ciro into one of the leather chairs behind the desk;  ❝ sit, ❞  still wearing a twisted expression;  something far too innocent of a smile to be fitting for the situation at hand.  ❝ they’ll arrive shortly.  go fetch them, ❞  the albino turned to one of the men that constantly seemed to follow him wherever he went, while he seated himself in the captive’s lap.

          the fox’s arms wound loosely around the man’s neck, one claw trailing an idle path along his jawline to lead him closer to the mafian’s own face, and he spoke in a whisper;  ❝ relax.  you cain’t appear scared in front of people like these. ❞  a soft chuckle loosened itself from his throat then, and his lips stretched into a vile smile.

          once the people in question arrived  —  just two of them;  an older looking man with a younger, more tough-looking companion  —  the yakuza head barely bothered with proper welcomes.  only a portion of his attention strayed from Ciro to these two;  it was hard to decipher whether he did it just to further fluster the angel or if he really didn’t have all that much respect towards the people that were supposed to finance him  —  or perhaps both?

          more than anything, it would be Ciro’s first real opportunity to see what exactly the demon’s group does for a living.  what they discussed was the price of one of the prisoners that seemed to be showing some unusual potential  —  and Shinjou demanded quite a lot of money for him.  oddly enough, his hands never really left the blonde’s body  —  and in general, he seemed much more calmer than at any other point in time.

          and whenever one of the others had the audacity to ask about the Head’s new escort, all the spirit would ever answer with was a variety of vague answers;                ❝ A’ figured A’ needed some fresh blood alongside me. ❞                ❝ cute, ain’t he? ❞                ❝ not for sale.  not yet, unless A’ change my mind. ❞  accompanied by suggestive little touches and smiles, and occassional grinding againist the angel’s hips, as well as encouraging tugs at the his collar to reciprocate this sick affection.

          in the end, the male angel had been sold to the unknown man  —  Shinjou not once asking what they were planning to do with him, all that interested him was getting the biggest amount of sum for his head.  the youkai gave a mindless wave of his hand towards one of his advisors;   ❝ he’ll escort you, gentlemen, to your new property, and out.  ❞  his goodbyes were given in the form of an arrogant smile, and a hand gesture to leave.

     ciro does little to hide his grimace at the attitude of the other. embarrassment lingers in the unhappy expression; the chain feels heavy around his neck, and tempts him to duck his head, and slouch his shoulders -- but he doesn’t. his pride won’t allow him to look like a beaten dog, so he stands tall, with his back straight, and his gaze on the back of the shorter male. he follows in silence, and it’s only after they reach areas he’s never been allowed that his eyes start to wander.

     there’s more than simple curiosity in the way he glances into rooms. he’s examining, and memorizing. once led into the conference room, and commanded to sit, his reluctance returns. the reminder that shinjou hasn’t yet decided his worth eventually encourages him into the chair. surprise flutters across resignation, and meandering thoughts return at once to the one in his lap. the warning barely registers in his mind as he stares into the malicious gaze of his ‘master.’

     who? who is shinjou meeting? bright eyes dance from the demon to the men he’s supposed to be doing business with. his role in the meeting becomes apparent as he feels cold hands wander carelessly. his focus becomes torn between the sale -- so that’s why angels just disappear so suddenly -- and shinjou. ciro feels the tug at the collar, and fights the urge to resist the other’s insistence again.

     his hands find the demon’s hips, before one of them climbs beneath the shirt entirely. despite his own embarrassment at the dirty way shinjou treats him in front of strangers  ( he sees the way the men look at him as if he’s a toy ),  a low noise reverberates from his lips at the demon grinds against him. the moan is part act, part truth --   and relief comes when the men finally leave.