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(A/n: Sorry for the extended wait 😅 people were dropping dead left and right. My grandmother died of cancer at 3:20 a.m. on a Sunday, October 4th in 2020. My brother wrecked into a tree at a 100 mph almost dying and needing me to care for him for 7 months in January of 2021. My father's body was found the following February - found mummified after he shot himself 3 months later and barely 2 months after his mother died. In February of 2022, my great grandmother, a staple of my life, passed away at the age of 94. She's been there as long as I can remember, making homemade biscuits with a container of flour and a sifter. All of this was tragic, but losing my grandmother in December of 2022 nearly did me in. She had been my rock, my confidante, my mother in every way my own could not. In March of 2023 my brother moved back in with us and we had to help him with Fentanyl withdrawal among other things, some of which we're still dealing with. His withdrawal gave me PTSD I believe - seeing your sibling in so much pain their eyes are rolling back in their head and you're afraid to sleep in case they die, will do that do you.
That same month we found out my aunt, who'd lost her mother in December, has breast cancer. She's still fighting as of now. Two days after my birthday, on the 23rd of June, my great aunt passed away. I hadn't known her my entire life but she'd been a dear friend and confidant of mine these past 2 years. Now here I am at the end of this chaos, and lost. You can understand then how my writing slipped through my fingers and how I could believe our family is cursed. Tragedy is a part of life, but this is abnormal.)
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Growing up, I was afraid. I was afraid of the dark. I was afraid of being alone forever. I was afraid of people as they so often turned away from me. Even my friends didn't look deeper than the surface. People terrify me. They terrify me because I can never quite synchronize with them just as they can't with me. My frequencies travel through the clouds, far, far away from the ground, whereas everyone else's travels through the designated lines from pole to pole.
Fakir, Judas, Indigo, Corvus, Christian - they don't scare me. Maybe they should. Maybe I should be more worried staying under the roof of monsters, but I've never felt more secure. They make the darkness less terrifying, less consuming.
How strange am I to curl up with monsters and cower from humans? How odd must I be to be crying for them now in this place of nothingness - this dark void that's taken the breath from my lungs?
This place.
This dark place, it holds nothing. There's no warmth and no chill. There's nothing to smell or taste or feel. There is no light to guide me out. Am I floating, or am I laying down? Am I upright or longways?
I can't tell.
My eyes open, tears pooling as I gaze above into the never-ending abyss. This, this, feels like my worst fears come to life. Here I am alone, and no one can save me. I'm forsaken to the dark, lost forever in my greatest fears and insecurities. I'm disconnected from reality, and there's no tether to guide my hand back to steady ground.
How did I end up here?
My brow furrows through my tears as I try to piece together the moments leading up to my ultimate circumstance. I can hear music and crickets, laughter and intimate noises. I can feel the blush burning my cheeks and the earth pulling at my knees as I scuffle backwards. A grumpy chortle and a raspy wise crack.
Then screams.
A pulsation erupts from me, eyes widening with a gasp. The screaming! God, the screaming!
I can't think over the screaming. It's everywhere now, echoing wildly alongside the cutting edge of a blade covered in golden fairy wings and blood.
"Run, Giantess Delilah! Run!"
I cover my ears, squeezing my eyes shut and curl into a ball in the dark.
"Go away," I whisper to them. They grow louder, pushing past my hands until I'm screaming with them.
"Be quiet!" I order them in a plea, just wanting it to all stop. I want to go back to the way things were before, where my life was predictable, where things stayed the same. I don't want to be here in the nothingness, with the screams of the dead slowly driving me insane.
Abruptly, the screams stop.
I'm hesitant to open my eyes, sure it's a trick. Sure it's a lie.
And then soft lips like warm sunlight press against my own. I gasp, eyes blowing open. Mischievous yellow eyes twinkle as his lips pull away just enough to smirk at me. His tongue lazily snakes out of his mouth and licks from my lower to my upper lip. I jerk back, face turning so red my eyes water. He chuckles and kisses me again, his dissonant voice echoing around us, "Calm your heart, Delilah. Calm it and kiss me."
His warm hands on my cheeks pull me out of my head, and I find my eyes closing again to relish the feel of him against me. In all the chaos, I never considered they might like me in this way. I'm just a young human girl with really strange sleeping arrangements. All of them are old and powerful, both whimsical and insidious in nature if the folk tales are to be trusted. I'd been so sure they saw me more as a pet than someone to kiss or love. I adore them, I look up to them, I trust them, but our relationship has been rather shallow.
With Fakir pulling away, both of us open our eyes half mast and stare at one another. It's as his fingers trace my cheek that I make the decision to try to get to know them better. All they've done is save me over and over again, constantly shouldering my problems. I don't just want to be a guest in their home, I want to be their friend. I want to be more.
"Fakir...why...," I whisper in puzzlement. His yellow eyes literally glow with gleaming mischief. Then they turn sultry, and his hold languid. Those pretty lips part with a lewd smirk that taunts me as he leans in dangerously close. He only answers me when his lips graze mine, head moving just enough to seductively drag them back and forth over my own, "Because I wanted to."
I blush again. A stuttering mess, I blurt out, "Y-you want to k-kiss me?!"
His whole face brightens with humor, eyes squeezing close as he chuckles like a schoolboy enjoying his day very much. He's still grinning when he opens one eye, making me feel like I have a devil cradling me to its body instead of a princely fairy, "Oh, very much. It's nearly all I think about lately. But I especially want to kiss you when you look at me like this."
"Like what?" I watch him as he trails his fingers over my nose, gaze turning reverent, "All vulnerable and pitiful, like a little puppy."
The mood is gone, that alluring spell he'd cast on me dissipating. I even forget the nothingness surrounding us. With a huff, I bite out, " I'm not a puppy!"
So he really does see me as a sort of pet...
He blinks at me like he can't figure out what he said wrong, "But you are like one. You have big eyes and pout so adorably I just want to squeeze you to death."
That's not terrifying at all...
"Don't call me a puppy. It makes it sound like I'm the family pet," I grumble, officially insulted. I think it's then that he realizes where he went wrong, "Oh shit. NO. No. Absolutely not."
I stare at him like I think he's lost it, which I totally do. Maybe immortality doesn't impede brain aging and he's getting senile in his old age. Fakir grows more and more grumpy the longer he studies my face, "Damn it."
Before I can ask him about his outburst, he's slamming his lips back to my own. This isn't slow and sensual like the last one. It's rough, brutal, and positively all consuming.
I can only take whatever he gives me when he kisses me this way. His hands roam all along my sides, gripping at my flesh like he might just tear it off. It's possessive and claiming, branding my soul with the heat of his. I gasp as his fingers dig into my lower back, my body arching up into his. A rumble starts in his chest, vibrating lightly against my skin.
He presses against me, melding us together, until I forget about being called a puppy and about the dark place. I forget about everything outside of us. Tentatively, I touch his arms, unsure where to put them exactly. I want to sink into him. I want to embrace this new upgrade to our relationship. I don't truly understand what this means for us, nor what it means for the others and me. With Fakir it's hard to tell. He can be so warm and gentle, only to turn around and play one of his mean tricks.
It's like he knows my thoughts are wandering, because the pleased rumbles turn into an irritated huff. He practically puts all of his weight down on me until my legs have to fall open. The tear inducing blush is back when he pulls away to hold himself over me and sinks his hips against mine. The way he's looking at me as I squirm with desire, is ravenous. His teeth bare and he grinds into me harder. My head falls back as the pleasure rolls through me.
I'm panting, chest heaving, helpless against the waves of pleasure rolling through me. He doesn't care. In fact, he seems to revel in how he's making me feel. Grabbing my hips to hold me in place, he grinds right into a very sensitive spot that has me quivering from the electric shock. I immediately whimper, overwhelmed by it all.
A wild creature stares back at me through Fakir's eyes - an inhuman beast, a beautiful monster. I can't look away. I can barely verbalize my pleasure. I'm his thrall and unable to break the spell he's lulled me under.
Delilah, Fakir murmurs in my thoughts. My beautiful Delilah.
The monster hides away within him, the gold melting beneath heavy lids. Fakir's face loses that manic urgency it'd just had, becoming tender and awed. His body coaxes itself on me, heating me to the bone as if I'm laying in the sunlight. The hardened convexity between his legs rolls into me just right just as his lips dive down to devour my mouth. I gasp into his mouth when it opens to swallow the sound.
One moment I'm slowly building up to something tantalizing but managable, the next I'm lost in a hurricane of sensation. My face tingles from the force of escatasy Fakir urges out of my body. My lips go numb, making me realize I hadn't been breathing.
Althewhile, Fakir thrusts in hard punctuated movements that make it too much to bear. My dearest Delilah. Forget the nothingness around us and focus on me. I can free you from this place.
You can, I ask back while still quivering and pushing closer into his embrace. He stops grinding into me and simply wraps me tightly in his arms, wordlessly encouraging me to hide my face in his tunic.
I can hear the smile in his voice as he soothingly replies while nuzzling his cheek against the top of my head, I can.
How?
Do you trust me?
I pull my head back, fluttering my lashes as I peer up. He's already looking back at me. I nod.
Smiling, he leans in and presses his lips to mine again. This time it isn't romantic. This kiss has a purpose. Light blooms from between our entangled bodies, battling away the nothing within The Dark Place. We trickle away, ascending like dandelion burs floating to the clouds.
Just before we fade away to safety, our eyes crack open at the same time and we stare back. You never need to be afraid. We will always come for you. We will never leave you to fend for yourself. You are ours and we are yours.
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Birdsong tells me I'm back home safely before anything else does. Lashes fluttering, I moan quietly and let my head fall to the left so that I'm facing the window. My body feels sore and tender, raw even. My little misadventure into the wood and my stint in The Dark Place both feel surreal and dreamlike as I try to recall the details.
Head falling to the side my eyes land on Fakir who's already staring back at me. He's laying alongside me, gold eyes alight with curiosity and wariness. His delicate features are relaxed and his lock of hair falls over his cheek to end on the covers of my bed.
He's so beautiful.
Not wanting to shatter the peaceful bubble I've woken up in, I whisper to him, "Was that real?"
Did I dream up The Dark Place and all that happened between the two of us?
Fakir tilts his chin down once in aknowledgement.
My cheeks warm as I replay our kiss and how he made me come just by his wandering touch and rolling hips.
"Oh," I squeak out, blinking rapidly.
His lips twitch up in the corner, undoubtedly amused. Lifting a hand to my face, Fakir pets my cheek. His eyes leave mine to follow the path his thumb makes along the bone there. Swallowing down the feelings his touch is giving me, I softly ask, "Fakir....what was that place?"
When he stops everything, I tense up, fearing I made a mistake by asking that. Fakir's face becomes solemn, his eyes more serious than I've ver seen them despite him not looking directly at me anymore. "We still have much to tell you," Fakir starts, voice as soft as mine has been.
"The Knights of Nevermore nicked your side with one of their weapons. Their weapons are toxic and eventually lethal if the wound isn't treated."
His words bring back memories I'd rather forget - screams, black creaking metal on the ground as a foot lands in front of our hiding place, the huffing humid breath of their steeds as there chase us, the abysmal inhuman helmets that leak black residue.
"As soon as I got you home I removed the toxin and healed you, but that's only half the battle. Their blades are meant for one thing and one thing alone - to cause suffering. Your body had been healed, but your heart was caged by the darkest part of you. All doubts, fears, and hatred live there. I went in and pulled you out."
Apprehension coils in my tummy. So that dark place was a physical manifestation of my fears and doubts?
"And...I'm better," I ask hesitantly, almost afraid he'd tell me I'd have lifelong side effects from my injury.
Fakir finally looks me in the eye again and nods, "You'll feel a bit frail and weary for a few days, but today won't leave any lasting mark."
I melt fully into the mattress and exhale in relief, "Thank you."
He smiles, "Never thank me, silly girl. Never thank any fae."
I wrinkle my nose, "Why?"
Chuckling, he leans in to kiss the tip of my nose, "Never mind that. Just obey and know that you can always know two things to be true and absolute - stars never cease in the sky and I will always come for you."
He pulls away to loom over me, a tender smile just for me as he studies every feature on my face. I smile back, "I will too."
He hums in thought, still studying me with a reverence that makes my heart flutter, "Will what?"
"Come for you."
His expression warms, eyes flitting back to look me in the eye. His lips twitch in one corner. He has this look though that's a touch condescending, as if he thinks it's cute that I could save him if he needed saving. Before I can say anything on that, his expression turns downright devious and sinful. Leaning in close to brush his lips across mine, he sucks in the air I exhale nervously. Murmuring into my lips, he purrs out, "You most certainly will."
It takes me an embarrassingly long time to get the double meaning to his words and when I do get it all I can manage is a blush. I'm not flirty or witty and have nothing to say to that that won't end up being a stuttering mess of nonsense.
Amused, Fakir chuckles at me, eyes bouncing around to take in every detail he's relishing in.
Slamming my eyes closed so I won't have to suffer anymore, I try to roll away from him so I can hide under my pillow, but he pulls me back until he's spooning me. He nuzzles his nose along the shell of my ear and breathes out, "Don't be embarrassed. I promise you'll enjoy every moment between us."
I think I'm dying...
Humming in amusement, he gives me a break and changes the subject, "Do you remember my promise to you? That I'd prove we were real?"
I nod, tilting my face to look back at him. He's already staring down at me from above. Tucking my hair behind my ear, he continues, "I have something for you."
He sits up, tugging me up with him. Keeping his eyes on me, he reaches into his tunic and pulls out a chain. He holds it up until I get the hint to look at whatever it is. Immediately I'm transfixed. Getting to my hands and knees, I lean closer until mere inches separate my nose and the pendant.
It's an unusual looking thing, but beautiful nonetheless. It's exactly the type of thing I imagine faeries to wear. It's n opalescent vial about three inches long that swirls and glimmers like liquid moonlight and fairy dust. It's held to the chain by a brass topper of swirling delicate metal embeded with sand-sized flecks of opal.
Fakir breaks the trance I'm in by pulling it away and securing it around my neck. Looking down at it as it sets between my breasts, my fingers trail alongside the chain and I memorize the surprising weight of the pendant pressing into my breastbone.
"I promised you I'd get you to realize we're real, that we weren't going anywhere. We went about everything backwards with you. That much is clear to me now. You don't understand your place with us or how dear and important you are to this odd family of ours. That's on us. We should've told you everything from the beginning."
I'm too unsure to look at him, instead focusing on the pendant though my eyes have already gotten their fill. Where I stand with them is a great source of unease for me. My inability to figure out how much of what's happened is genuine and not a fantasy has impeded any real contemplation on the matter. I like them. I enjoy their company. They make me so incredibly happy. And more than anything, they feel like home.
Fakir reaches over and taps the pendant's tip, "Kiss the vial, Delilah."
Still refusing to make eye contact, I do as he commanded me to. It's surprisingly warm, like a cold stone in the morning sun. I gasp when I pull away and see the liquid opal filled vila melt away into the topper, revealing a brass needle that's simple in design compared to the rest of the pendant.
"If you ever doubt what is real prick your finger on the needle." I finally look up at him, heart warmed to the core by how thoughtful he's being. He smiles warmly, "Then you'll know."
I stare at him for a while longer before returning to look at the needle. Without hesitating, I poke the needle's end with my pointer finger. Shock goes through me at the tinge of pain and the bead of blood that appears. Tears sting my eyes. It's real then.
This is real. They're real. I'm not dreaming after all.
...but what does that mean about the dream I'd had with The Briar King? Was that not a dream after all?
Shaking my head to brush those worries away for another day, I fall into Fakir's arms. "Thank you," I murmur into his chest. My eyes close as I nuzzle in close, enjoying the warmth of sunlight that always radiates from him. He holds me close, letting me act exactly like the puppy he accused me of being in The Dark Place, "I made a vow. Never doubt a vow I make to you."
"Never," I promise, burrowing even deeper into him. Fakir likely doesn't realize how much this means to me, all the worries he got rid of for me. He gifted me sanity, the feeling of having stable ground underfoot.
Our moment is gone when my bedroom door slams open violently. I jerk upright and blink at Judas who's panting and raging. "I heated Delilah! Why didn't you tell me she was awake?"
I look back at Fakir, curious as to what he's going to say. Will he tell Judas we kissed? Will Judas be mad if he finds out?
Fakir's entire demeanor changes. Gone is the prince wooing a girl and in his place is an indigent and petty faery with a droll look. "Now why would I do that when I can just keep her all to myself?"
Laughing nervously, I scoot back on the bed closer to the pillows just in case they start bickering again. It turns out to be a pointless attempt. Judas snatches me off the bed and lets me dangle in his arms. I grunt, grimacing up at the scruffy man. His red eyes look me over studiously. His lips part as if he's going to ask me something, but Fakir isn't amused by the situation and cuts him off.
"Are you going to continue manhandling her? She's human," Fakir states condescendingly. Judas holds me closer to him and leans towards Fakir with a snarl, "Says the prissy prick who keeps trying to seduce her! She isn't ready for that shit!"
"I beg to differ. She seemed oh so receptive earlier," Fakir smirks knowingly, taunting my poor Judas. He shouldn't tease him like this. Judas is just worried about me.
"You better not have touched her inappropriately, faery! We haven't told her shit."
"If you touch a woman just right, it's implied, mutt."
"You are fucked in the head!"
"Merely having a taste," Fakir croons seductively, actually tossing his hair over his shoulder. He gives me what can only be described as 'bedroom eyes'.
A growl builds up in Judas' chest, letting me know this is quickly getting out of hand. "I'll rip your fucking dick off! How dare you?"
"Easily. How can I resist having a taste when you gives me those pitiful puppy eyes? Makes me want to lick the tears off here cheeks."
"Uh, guys," I try, still dangling in Judas' hold.
Judas' eyes and tail pop out, fur standing tall, "You sick fuck!"
"If by 'sick' you mean bedridden with desire for our little human, then I suppose you'd be correct," Fakir taunts some more, playing nonchalant.
"Guys," I try again, wiggling around in hopes of Judas getting a hint. He doesn't. He just adjusts his grip around my sides, pinning my arms even more.
Fakir tosses the back of his hand over his eyes and clutches his tunic over his heart, turning to dramatics to get a rise of Judas, "Why, I'm haunted by visions of her bare beneath me and blushing to the point of tears. All because I grazed her thigh. Imagine the sight! Those big pretty eyes glistening with desire and shame in equal measure, that adorable little wrinkle between her brow because she's confused by her feelings. I just can't stand it!"
"Go to hell you sick fuck and stay away from her," Judas bites out blandly, turning slightly so that I'm more behind him.
Sighing in exasperation, I result to desperate measures and lick Judas in the armpit. He tastes like he needs a bath. He jumps in his skin and shivers, gaping down at me in equal parts revulsion and shock. "What the fuck," he gets out.
I squirm again to get my point across and whine, "Put me down. You're making my side hurt."
Cursing under his breath, Judas swiftly but gently sets me down on the bed. "Shit, I'm sorry. Are you okay? Does Fakir need to look at your wound again?"
I beam up at him, swinging my feet happily off the side of the bed, "I'm okay."
"Good," he exhales heavily in relief. Now that he's reassured that I'm fine, he makes an angry face at me that isn't his actual angry face and pokes my nose. Fakir struts over to stand just beside him, face astutely watching me.
"We need to talk about your little misadventure. Why the hell did you leave the garden?"
I blink once, not expecting this conversation to take such a turn. I hadn't really thought about it honestly. Dad has always let me do my own thing and never questions where I've been. If I wanted to go exploring, I always did so without a second thought. No one cared anyways.
"Well..." I trail off, trying to figure out what he wanted to hear. Did he want an apology? An explanation?
Raising a brow, "Well?'
Deciding to just be honest, I shrug, "I met a gnome who was stealing a potato." There. That's a good enough reason, right?
Before I can find out if Judas finds my answer satisfactory, Fakir loses his cool. Seething with rage, he says, "Oh did he now? Seems I need to put out gnome poison again."
I lean forwards and snap at him, "Don't you dare!"
Affronted, he leans away from me, "I beg your pardon?"
"Mossy Moe's my friend. I won't let you hurt him!"
Both of them gape down at me, but I make sure to keep my face stern and my conviction clear. Jadas snaps out of it first, ignoring me entirely and blandly telling Fakir, "Fakir, I think my hearing is going bad."
"Oh," Fakir asks flippantly.
"Yeah. I could've sworn she said she befriended a sentient potato."
I turn my glare on Judas, "That's not very nice!"
Judas glowers and I find myself locked in a silent battle of wills.
Fakir breaks the tension when he smiles wryly and pushes his fingers through his hair, "Delilah, my dear, you make the oddest friends."
Not missing a beat, I turn to him, "If that's true, then what does that say about you?"
Both of them blink at me and are struck speechless until Judas turns away from us to snicker into his fist. Scoffing, Fakir says, "You're mouthier than usual."
I just stick my tongue out at him in response which gets me a smirk. He may be irritated with me but he's obviously amused above all else, "Very well. If the ugly little man means that much to you, I won't give him a slow and violent death."
Maybe it's because of how much time we've spent together, but I hear the unsaid part immediately, "You won't kill him at all!"
He turns indignant again, "Oh, I won't, will I?"
"No! Or I won't' speak to you ever again!"
Offended, he goes to retort with the same amount of fire he usually reserves for Judas or Corvus, but our little spat gets interrupted when Christian stops in the doorway. Noticing my eyes drifting that way, both of them turn around to see who it is.
All of us are silent.
Something is off about Christian. He's always made me nervous and uneasy, but there's another layer to that today. His expression is shuttered and his body - while seemingly at ease - looks coiled and tense. It's making me nervous. Especially with the way he's staring at me. His eyes are both dull and ravenous.
"I'm happy you're well, Delilah. You worried us," he tells me directly, crossing his arms. Turning bashful, I lower my chin and mumble, "Sorry. I didn't mean to."
Christian says nothing to this, just stares me down for an uncomfortable amount of time. I grow more and more worried the long the silence stretches on. My worry only gets validated when Judas suddenly asks in this faux polite way that does little to hide how his body is tensed and ready to fight, nor how Fakir steps to the side so I'm more hidden, "Have you gotten control of yourself?"
I glance at Judas then back to Christian. Is he okay? He didn't get hurt too, did he?
Christian looks at me a moment longer, before turning away and leaving without a word. Fakir mumbles, "I'll take that as a 'no'."
They don't let me stew on what happened, both putting aside their earlier spat and turning to me - though to be fair, bickering seems to be their love language. Judas takes in my expression and forces a smile, "Don't worry about him, little dreamer. He's moodier than he lets on."
Bending over, Judas takes hold of my chin. Almost crooning, he suggests, "How about I run you a bath. Once you're out, we'll rest some more. You need all you can get after what you went through."
When I look at Judas, I see my dearest friend even though he's human right now. I can't help but to trust him and let him lead the way. After nodding, I ask, "What about Indigo and Corvus?"
While Corvus and I haven't really gotten to know one another, Indigo and I have. I just hope him not visiting me doesn't mean he's angry with me.
Fakir answers me letting Judas jump on the bath, "They're handling other matters. They'll see you in the morning. Try not to worry too much about it."
Appeased, I nod.
Poor little thing. Misadventure indeed. But for now all is well. The Hawthorne cottage is quiet tonight and no danger awaits them for now. Our heroine rests between the Grim and the Faery who cradle her close.
Corvus though is restless tonight. Perched on the roof, he watches the wood far and wide, afraid to miss an inkling of danger. Though not one to admit his troubles, Delilah vanishing from under their noses near traumatized him. Her safety is at the forefront of his mind as is his worries over the Knights of Nevermore's motives.
Indigo too is having a sleepless night, tossing and turning in his bed, riddled with anxiety. Oh how close they came to losing their most precious belonging.
Most strangely however, is the ominous silhouette standing in the open doorway to Delilah's room. Watching her sleep like a foreboding omen, is a shadow with a devilish tail lashing behind him and with fists clenching tight.