10-12-2009, 02:46 AM
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lol. xD
Even if she commanded him to take his own life, slitting his throat with his own claws Samael would do so with absolute adoration and pleasure. Mother was never wrong, and even if she was, he loved her far too much to care. Even if she was the wickedest soul on the planet, deserving nothing save death and eternal damnation Samael would love her above all else. He himself was damned and cursed, with a ravaged mind and a torn, destroyed body. He was the whore and the sinner, selling himself for nothing more than an added scar and a drop of blood. He was a killer, taking lives for nothing more than the sheer pleasure of shredded flesh. Whatever she asked him to do, he would commit to without a second thought or contrary desire. Just being in her service and allowed to stand by her side was enough to content him for eternity and more. Though he always wanted something else, something more, he’d long come to accept his dreams would remain nothing more than that.
Razekiel had changed. It did not surprise Samael, though he was vaguely interested to see what had become of his littermate. Ahemait had long since vanished, and Raze had disappeared long before that, assumed by the tawny creature into death’s inescapable, loving embrace. He’d become nothing more than an afterthought, long forgotten save dreams and memories since faded and blurred into oblivion. There was nothing to remember from his vague sibling, so Samael could not judge too harshly when he finally did encounter his only full-blooded brother—unless the man was a stranger bearing love and daises. Yet nothing in her tone suggested so drastic a change, so he shrugged it off like nothing more than some insignificant, uninteresting thought. “If Kaena wishes it, Samael will do nothing but what she desires,” he continued, cheek leaning against her fur and reveling in the closeness of the only woman he’d ever truly loved.
He wanted nothing more than to be her shadow, commanded and ensnared by the Lykoi matron who’d birthed him and so many others. He would be her slave, waiting on her hand and foot and fulfilling anything and everything she asked of him, no matter how gruesome or distasteful. In some way, he wanted to be destroyed by her own hand, murdered by what he loved and dying with a satisfied, content smile on his lips. He wanted her to tear him apart.
Even if she commanded him to take his own life, slitting his throat with his own claws Samael would do so with absolute adoration and pleasure. Mother was never wrong, and even if she was, he loved her far too much to care. Even if she was the wickedest soul on the planet, deserving nothing save death and eternal damnation Samael would love her above all else. He himself was damned and cursed, with a ravaged mind and a torn, destroyed body. He was the whore and the sinner, selling himself for nothing more than an added scar and a drop of blood. He was a killer, taking lives for nothing more than the sheer pleasure of shredded flesh. Whatever she asked him to do, he would commit to without a second thought or contrary desire. Just being in her service and allowed to stand by her side was enough to content him for eternity and more. Though he always wanted something else, something more, he’d long come to accept his dreams would remain nothing more than that.
Razekiel had changed. It did not surprise Samael, though he was vaguely interested to see what had become of his littermate. Ahemait had long since vanished, and Raze had disappeared long before that, assumed by the tawny creature into death’s inescapable, loving embrace. He’d become nothing more than an afterthought, long forgotten save dreams and memories since faded and blurred into oblivion. There was nothing to remember from his vague sibling, so Samael could not judge too harshly when he finally did encounter his only full-blooded brother—unless the man was a stranger bearing love and daises. Yet nothing in her tone suggested so drastic a change, so he shrugged it off like nothing more than some insignificant, uninteresting thought. “If Kaena wishes it, Samael will do nothing but what she desires,” he continued, cheek leaning against her fur and reveling in the closeness of the only woman he’d ever truly loved.
He wanted nothing more than to be her shadow, commanded and ensnared by the Lykoi matron who’d birthed him and so many others. He would be her slave, waiting on her hand and foot and fulfilling anything and everything she asked of him, no matter how gruesome or distasteful. In some way, he wanted to be destroyed by her own hand, murdered by what he loved and dying with a satisfied, content smile on his lips. He wanted her to tear him apart.