#creatriix

EVERYONE LOOK OVER HERE LARI IS ACKNOWLEDGING MIKEKO EXISTS

               “ clary. “          the word is a drawl as he leans across the DOORFRAME of the weapons room, eyes flickering over the countless OBJECTS within them. it’s a treasure trove to a warrior, though he can’t imagine most people have any idea what can be done with most of it’s SPLENDOR. a pause, a faint spark of AMUSEMENT flickering behind his eyes before it comes to be tempered by a FORCED patience.         “ do you even know how to USE that ? “

            he lay on his bed injeans and a black t-shirt, not making a home under the covers, but listening silently as moonlight washed over his pale skin, reflected in his white hair. he was waiting, and he wasn’t sure what for, so it required all of his focus, and absolute silence. it was easier for sebastian to hear because he was a shadowhunter, but his father always told him his skills would be best with practice and absolute focus. his muscles did not relax, his body remaining alert, eyes trained on the part of hallway he could see through his open door when suddenly         a shadow. he’d heard something the night before, but befor ehe could investigate it had been gone. now, it was outside his room and his mind ran rampant with possibilities of what it could be.

             he slipped off of his mattress, booted feet gracing the floor soundlessly as the footsteps that followed, nearing himself towards his door. he grabbed down one of his swords from their display, holding it in a drawing position near where a sheath would rest at his hips. deftly, he drew, placing the blade to the throat of the intruder, cool metal resting on ivory skin. his eyes met his sister’s and narrowed in confusion, but he let his arm fall to his side. ‘ what are you doing out of bed, clarissa? father wouldn’t like it. ’

                      “ you would think they’d be a bit HARDER PRESSED to let me out of the infirmary now, seeing as these BEDSHEETS are flammable. “               as it is, the silent brothers are still holding to their MANDATE of bedrest, the unspoken truth passing between them              ;             if he cannot learn to control this thing inside him, there’s no TELLING what might happen. still, it’s been rather dull while he’s been healing up, body already SCREAMING at him for the idleness, a sort of stir crazy sensation crawling just  u n d e r  his skin. he was not made to sit still while a war brews, when his HAND itches to be covered in treacherous blood. he’s tried everything to DISTRACT from it, fingers idly flicking through the pages of BOOKS he’s read a thousand times over, but there’s only so much he can do in such confines. the SIGHT of clary is welcome to him, && he leans back against the mountain of pillows with a rather lazy grin, eyes flickering with delight as they TRACE the curves of her face.        “ do tell me you’ve something INTERESTING to tell me. tidings of the outside world, maybe, or NEWS that i’m finally being allowed to kill things again. “

          BEAUTY. what a joke. his ichor stained face would never incite adoration, not even in the most insane of lovers. even to the seelie queen, he was only necessity, she was smart enough to see his impending win and wanted him on her side. there’d been others, lost with him in pleasure and control, but that was as deep as it ever went, and it was never beautiful. there was only clarissa, whose first glance at him had been tainted with hatred. true, he did not even know if she loved him yet, or some twisted form of torture had placed her in his hands only to TEAR her away later in his happiness. 

          no one would look into his black eyes with sympathy or endearment, as their irises glowed in attraction: this he knew. for this simple fact had been drilled into him from childhood. no one will ever love the MONSTER he is, not truly, not totally.

         ‘ you MOCK me. ’ he says angrily, seeing no other reason for her kindness and love ( perhaps he  just can not accept he is deserving of it ). it is far easier to hate, he has found, than it is to love and anger is a quicker emotion than compassion. so before he can think that maybe she means it, he’s gripping her arm, leaving indents in her bicep as he pulls her brutally down the corridor. his rage is burning inside of him now, wondering how she can still manage to  H U R T  him, though he is invincible. how she can incite feelings in him he’d barely known existed and he hates it - HATES it, but he loves it. there is no other beauty in him than what she places there, and he’s sure she just loves that.

          he’s not dragging her towards her room or even his, which scares her, but when he stops and slams her against the wall, the destruction in his dark irises is far more TERRIFYING. he’s looking over her with a mixture of emotions, soaring in and out of his ichor orbs like jet planes. anger, desire, FEAR, love, hatred. how can he think anything of her if she is as changing as the tides? how can he hate her today if she will make him love her tomorrow. ‘ there is no beauty in demons, you KNOW that, you kill them. you can’t mean that, so why have you said it - WHY DID YOU SAY IT? ’

          one hand has found his way to her throat now and squeezing her air passage has just the effect she wishes as she breathes out an answer with difficulty. ‘ i MEANT it. ’ but he doesn’t believe her, and his grip only tightens. ‘ you are.. a demon, ’ she admits, through gasps for air. and he’s not sure if she thought that would satisfy him, but it doesn’t. he’s pulling her down the long corridor again, and they burst into the throne room where he throws her too the floor, sobbing and trying to EXPLAIN. but it is only when he grabs the infernal cup that she get desperate. ‘ you are a demon, ’ she repeats, ‘ but you are also an ANGEL. ’ and those words make sebastian stop in his tracks as he bears down on her with the key to her final and complete submission.

but lets all take a moment to appreciate sebastian muttering to himself in other languages, sebastian cursing in other languages and most important, sebastian moaning in other languages 8)