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angeliclovely69 · 2 months

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Soul Ties - 1

Pairing: Lute x Fem!Reader

AU: Soulmate(You are born with matching tattoos)

Warnings: Angst, Fighting, Spoilers?, Adam being Adam, Gay, kinda similar to ACOSF, implied drinking problem

Summary: A relatively young Seraphim is forced to train with the Exorcists after breaking the rules. However, when she realises just who will be training her, she doesn’t mind. She enjoys the view.

Note: I have never read A Court of Silver Flames, but my friend said this is pretty similar. In what ways, I’m not sure, but I can assure you it is not intentional. Also, it wasn’t supposed to end in smut, but I couldn’t deny myself.

—

Stars. You fucking hate them. Pretty as they are, you have never seen anybody else with them marked into their skin. The black signature ran down your back, four stars in a line imprinted on the skin of your spine. They burn as you walk into the training ring.

She is waiting there as you were told, talking to who you know to be Adam, the first man. You only catch the last part of their conversation, the woman’s words. “Yes sir.” Adam’s eyes meet yours, “I forgot you were hot, little Seraphim.” He laughs at his words, you don’t, and neither does the lieutenant.

You are the second youngest Seraphim, only older then Emily by a hundred years. Not young in the grand scheme of things, but young for a high ranking angel. Everyone knows your age is why Sera allowed you to get away with your disobedience for so long. She figured you grow out of it, but when you came to work hungover, she had no other option. She had to punish you, if only for the sake of her reputation. She gave you two terrible choices.

Fall or train.

Simply no choice at all, really. Falling means admitting you failed. You can’t, that would mean everyone was right. Training isn’t going to be easy, you have never worked any muscles besides your wings, and even that was just from flying.

“Lute, this is who you’ll be training.” Thank god goodness he said her name because when Sera mentioned it you’d still been hungover. “Pleasure.” The white haired woman met your eyes now, her own sharp, determined. She doesn’t answer your statement, simply blinks as if thinking too hard to process.

“Do I have to?” She directs her attention to Adam, who just flips her off and flys away. “Fuck.” She mutters. Her eyes close for a moment, then she directs her full attention back to you. “Can you do a sit-up?”

“Can you actually try?” She is getting frustrated. Terribly so. You are making her job harder. You have been sitting watching her do her workouts for about an hour. You don’t answer, just look around the room. You trained for about 20 minutes with Lute before the space began to fill with other Exorcists.

You are embarrassed, to put it simply. How are you supposed to want to train when literal warriors surrounded you. You are stubborn, and she is mean. She doesn’t care if you fall. Why should she put in all the effort when you don’t even bother to do anything?

“I will not train here.” You really aren’t trying to be difficult. Sure you don’t want to train at all, but you aren’t the type of angel that would ever make someone’s life harder, well…ignoring Sera.

You want her to understand. She doesn’t. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Your words go unanswered as the white haired lieutenant leaves, angry and confused. She understands this wasn’t your choice, but why the fuck can’t you do anything?

Lute asked Sera how you usually act when she originally told about the arrangement. According to Sera you could be stubborn, a little headstrong, but you would behave to the best of your abilities. Not only so that you wouldn’t be punished, but also because you hate making people angry. Any time you did, you ended up crying. Even Sera.

Sera had assured Lute that you’d try, but she couldn’t be sure how you’d react to the training, or Lute herself. Lute doesn’t know what the last part meant, but it doesn’t matter. She is going to end this arrangement. If you don’t care, she doesn’t either.

“How’d it go?” Sera asks, voice almost cracking. She is scared, Lute notices. “She didn’t do anything.” Bluntness laces her tone. Sera frowns. “Really? Nothing?” Lute wants to nod, but hesitates. “She did train at first, but then other exorcists came in, and she stopped. She just stared at me while I trained.” Lute rants.

The seraphim’s face seems to lighten, as if realising something Lute hasn’t. “What?” Lute doesn’t understand why you are the way you are. Doesn’t really care. Sera does understand, though.

You grew up as almost a younger sister to Sera. You aren’t related, but something about you draws Sera in. Draws everyone in, to be completely honest. You are, in a way no one could place, different. Not in the conceited way. No. Your soul just doesn’t belong where it is. You were almost too kind. Too gentle. Sera hates that she has to punish you, but you’ve been going through something she can’t handle.

“When the others came in?” Sera questions, confirming a thought process Lute still hasn’t caught on to. “Yes! I said that already.” Her tone is harsh, and one look from the high seraphim, has her nodding a silent apology.

“Did you not question the reason?” The seraphim’s voice is gently coercing the answer from the lieutenant. Lute simply shakes her head, her frustration growing again. She knows the reason, you are a lazy brat.

“Tell me, have you ever been embarrassed?” Sera’s smile is light. “Yes.” Lute’s single word was harsh. The seraphim gives her yet another pointed look. “Sorry…”

Lute has never been able to tame the frustration that always bubbles underneath her skin. A type of frustration that doesn’t belong in Heaven. Rage that killed hundreds. That was her purpose. Death and retribution. Her very soul screamed anger, pure uncontrollable rage.

That’s why Adam has chosen her. Chosen her over everyone else. Made her his lieutenant. His right hand. She obeys orders and allows unnecessary demands. That’s what this arrangement is. Unnecessary.

“Then do you understand?” Sera is calm, too calm compared to Lute’s frustration. Lute shakes her head. Not trusting herself enough to not let the frustration show again. “Do I need to explain it to you?” A nod. Short, subtle.

“In the simplest of terms, she’s embarrassed. Classical trained soldiers. Heaven’s greatest. The universe’s greatest. Compared to a girl who can barely walk up stairs without losing her breath. She’s probably the most proudly stubborn person I’ve ever met. She doesn’t want to fall on her ass.” A nice- no. Lute processed the information slowly. Sera asks if she understands. Another nod.

Lute doesn’t say anything else, just leaves the room. She isn’t sure where to train you if you are uncomfortable in the public space. Unless, she let’s you use her personal space. No. That isn’t happening. She’ll just have to make do.

It doesn’t work. The next day you do the same thing. For the first 20 you are engaged, then the others fill the room, and you sit off to the side.

“Fuck this!” Lute yells in the locker room, slamming her fist into the mirror. It shatters. “Fuck!” She yells again. You left a while ago, and Lute had to stay. You aren’t her only assignment after all.

Her back is burning. Her entire body is burning. Rage is practically seeping from her skin. She takes off her shirt in an attempt to cool down. It’s late, extremely late, and for once the training area is empty. At least it should be, it was a bit ago. Now, though, she can hear panting. Distant, airy. She debates putting her shirt back on, but she shrugs the thought off. The Exorcists have seen her shirtless before.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, the woman doing sit ups in the middle of the ring isn’t an Exorcist. It’s you. Panting. Sweating. She stares for a minute. Can’t stop herself.

When she finally catches herself, she walks over to you. “Shhh. Don’t talk.” Her tone isn’t soft, but it’s no where near harsh either. Improvement. Your eyes widen in surprise. You didn’t realize she was there. Fuck. How long was she there? Was she judging you?

She catches herself liking the look in your eyes. Liking your eyes in general. It takes a moment of staring for her to blink. “Go to bed. Ah. Sh.” She cuts off your attempt at an argument. “Go to bed. For training tomorrow meet me at my private training area. This time. It will be there from now on.” She doesn’t say anything else as she walks away.

She silently thanks god for it being dark. She doesn’t need you knowing anything about her.

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queenofanime · 11 months

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Matching Tattoos

"You know I can see you, right?" The girl, who until now was strolling through the dark alleys, stopped. Her question was met with silence, with complete stillness. Y/n just wanted to get home, but she knew that as soon as her back was turned, the person walking behind her would follow.

"Just come out already. I really don't have time for this." Irritation laced her words... honesty too. She truly didn't have the time nor the patience for this. Y/n had lied before though, for she couldn't actually see the person. She could only assume it was a man. Living in the red light district had changed her perception of life, of love. She was cynical and street smart. By now, she had heard too many stories of raped women, too many horrors happening a couple of blocks away from her flat. She had experienced quite a few scares herself.

Despite her efforts, nobody answered.

At the other end, Gyutaro felt conflicted. The demon had gone out to town, trying to find a meal. His standards were never high, therefore, when he saw a bunch of middle aged hags, he was ready to devour at least two, but then he got distracted by the commotion from across the street.

Apparently a woman had trespassed into Triple Thread territory, and was now having a hard time getting out of trouble. 'The Triple Thread' were nothing but a bunch of low-level thugs. However, over the years they had become quite the gang. Nowadays, they basically ruled part of the district and controlled more than half of the whore houses.

Three of them had corner the young girl, who he, was currently trailing. Gyutaro hadn't thought much of it at first, but when the men got their asses kicked and send to the hospital, he became intrigued.

Looking back, he should have just minded his business and try to eat someone, instead of trailing the poor girl, who seem to have an attitude and was now asking questions... questions he wasn't ready to answer.

He wasn't used to being noticed. And if he were to step into the light, she would probably faint.

Maybe he should just eat her.

"Okay, you clearly are taking your sweet time so I'm coming over." Y/n's voice and the fact that she was closing in, brought the demon back to reality. However he couldn't move, his feet were completely glued to the ground. Maybe he wanted to see the girl's reaction and entertain his sadistic side. Or maybe he simply was a full-on masochist and wanted to damage his self-esteem even further. Maybe he just wanted to hear more of the girl's voice, even if it meant hearing insults and hurtful words. Whatever the reason may be, he didn't move, he didn't hide, no... Gyutaro just waited patiently for his arm to be yanked into the light.

Yet the moment never came. Gyutaro most certainty was not yanked by the arm as he had mentally script. No, no, he was yanked from his ear. The nails from the girl painfully pinching at the tender skin, almost drawing blood.

An audible yell escaped the demon as his thoughts ran wild. 'Did this human just had the audacity to do something as stupid as this!?'

Unpleasantly, Gyutaro was thrown just below the lamp-post, the only lamp-post within 5 blocks.

Recovering from the shock and the slamming of his spine against the metal tube, Gyutaro's eyes glanced upwards in rage. "You BITCH! What the hell was th-"Kill me now, because I'm done saving myself."

The interruption of the girl quickly had the demon shutting up; his mismatched eyes staring in disbelief. In return, the girl's gaze looked back at him. Not a single hint of fear or disgust could be seen through her orbs, just boredom and completely unimpressed. As if seeing a demon was a daily occurrence. 'Just another Tuesday for this asshole', thought the male.

Somehow the night seemed darker than usual. Small droplets had started to appear, littering the street. Soon, the sound of rain was the only thing that could be heard.

Gyutaro took the moment to actually analyze the girl's features. She was quite pretty, but it was an unconventional pretty. She had a knife-cut scar gracing her left cheek. Unlike Daki, her nose wasn't a round perfect button shape. Her hair was messy, her eyebrows were bushy and edgy. And her makeup wasn't the usual pastel colors that girls loved to wear. Maybe unconventional pretty wasn't the right description. The girl was harsh pretty... warrior pretty pretty.

"Are you going to kill me?"

"I'm not sure yet."

__________________________________________

"Quit watching me."

"Did you do something different with your hair?"

"No."

To put it shortly, Gyutaro didn't kill Y/n, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he became a guardian demon angel of some sort. He knew Y/n could handle herself, as she had demonstrated weeks prior. Still, he felt useful watching over her. Both parties had come to some sort of mutual silent agreement, allowing Gyutaro to crash in Y/n's flat, as he was doing tonight.

"I really think you did something with your hair."

"I didn't! Cut it out!"

The girl decided to stop asking, as she had clearly irritated the demon, but her staring didn't weaver. Annoyed and self-conscious, Gyutaro shot Y/n a menacing glare, however she seemed unaffected by it.

"Where did you get your spots done? Which artist was it?"

"What?"

Y/n's question had genuinely confused the man. What did she mean by artist? Did Y/n actually think his ugly birthmarks were made with ink? Gyutaro hated everything about himself. He hated his face, his body-shape, he even hated his attitude. But... if there was one thing he hated above all else, were those ugly dark spots which adorned his body in the most horrible way possible. He hated them the most because they were a constant remainder of the lack of love his mother had had for him.

"Woah, you really are dumber than I thought." The words slide from his mouth harsher than ever before. For the first time Y/n was taken aback. For the first time, she actually felt cold sweat run down the back of her neck, fearing what the demon would do.

"I-I j-just- "You really think I'd litter my face like this, by choice?"

Before Y/n could say something else, a giggle escaped the green-ish creature. A giggle that soon turned into a psychotic laughing fit. The girl could only watch in horror as the demon, with its nails, scratched and teard at its skin, drawing red blood lines.

The flame from the alcohol lamp flickered with the wind. Y/n prayed the only source of light wouldn't go out, leaving her defenceless.

"My mother tried to kill me several times before I was born. She ended up dying of syphilis, the hateful bitch."

In reality, Gutaro didn't know why he was sharing. His tongue was faster than his head, which was a very rare occurrence. Trauma dumping the woman in front of him was a test. Just like the night he met her, Gyutaro wanted to see what she was made of. What unexpected reaction she would come up with next.

The girl was at a loss of words, now understanding it was likely that Gyutaro suffered from congenital syphilis. She wanted to say 'sorry' but that seemed superficial. Sometimes words aren't enough, but actions were.

Without looking at the demon, Y/n's hand slowly reached out for the small nightstand. Gyutaro watched her intensely, knowing for sure a woman like her would have a blade or some kind of weapon hidden. However, Y/n had something else in mind. Seeing as the demon hadn't move from his spot and wasn't trying to stop her, Y/n pulled out a paper rice sheet, an ink pen, and a needle. That certainly got Gyutaro's attention.

The night was cold. Shadows danced across the room, casting an ethereal glow upon the worn furniture and faded walls.

Y/n approached the boy cautiously. Her steps measured and deliberate towards the skinny boy, who still looked angry and distrustful. She understood the depths of his longing, his hunger for affection, yet she knew all too well the fortress of distrust he had built around himself. But she was determined to bridge the gap, to breach the walls that confined him. Slightly gulping, Y/n closed the gap between the two of them until they were just a few inches apart.

With gentle grace, she extended her trembling hand, her fingertips craving the warmth of human connection. She closed in slowly, mindful of every fragile moment that passed. Her touch was like a whisper, delicate and tender, a beacon of solace in a world that had shown him little to no kindness.

Y/n didn't think her next action through. If she did, she would probably have never done it. She reached and delicately traced her fingers across the black spots covering his left prominent hip-bone. This time, it was Gyutaro who gulped, feeling the chill of her freezing hand.

Since he didn't move, Y/n took the opportunity to take out the sheet of paper and the ink pen. Gyutaro's yellow eyes widen, gleamed with an otherworldly glow, reflecting the untamed curiosity that coursed through his veins. The girl, with full-on concentration, covered his hipbone with the paper. And with the pen, started tracing the birthmark's shape.

Once she was done, Y/n removed the paper and set it aside.

She then proceeded to undress herself, shocking the demon (even further). And soon, Y/n was left in her undergarments, exposing her own hipbone.

Slowly but surely Gyutaro started to understand... understand her, and he couldn't help but feel a tug within his heart (if he had one).

The air was thick with a sense of determination as she prepared to embark on whatever journey this was. With trembling hands, she carefully grabbed the needle, that until now had been forgotten and started burning it with the flame. Once the tip was dark, bordering black, Y/n removed the insignificant metal item, recovered the paper, and placed it over her own skin.

Part of him wanted to stop her, wanted to tell her not to ruin her own perfectly soft skin, but Gyutaro has always been selfish. So he didn't.

Y/n had a million thoughts running though her head: 'Was it safe?' 'Should she do it?' 'Was it too late to turn back?' 'Was it going to hurt?'

No it wasn't safe. She shouldn't do it. It wasn't too late. Yes, it was going to hurt. But she had made up her mind. She wasn't going to back down from a promise, a promise of a better, honest world.

Despite knowing that this act would forever mark her skin, Y/n took the needle and grazed her flesh. It burned. A searing pain jolted through the girl's body. Pain the demon could see through her eyes. The smell was probably the worse.

Wherever the needle grazed, splatters of blood followed. Instinctively Y/n wanted to pull away, but the logic within her wanted to get this over done quickly.

Y/n spent over an hour carefully filling in the area while Gyutaro just watched, mesmerised.

When she was finally done, the burned birthmark took and ugly red-brown color. The angry blood lines starting to dry up.

Despite the painful experience, Y/n was satisfied with herself.

Finally she looked up towards the demon, acknowledging him with a cheerful smile.

"See, now we match..."

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(image taken from Pinterest by Jenn)

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