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Raizel was a simple man. He could watch paint dry for hours and find endless entertainment. However, whilst being among humans, he'd learned that that type of behaviour drew unwanted attention. Frankenstein had also warned him about the consequences of inhaling chemicals so he'd left it at that - there being no need to argue with him on the subject since Frankenstein insisted on taking care of him to the best of his ability (irrelevant of how trivial this seemed at times). Despite, or moreso consequently, him being the most powerful being known to exist, Raizel often found joy in the mundane things life had to offer. Moments where he'd be alone sipping tea or watching a television program, he frequently replayed the memory of his first encounter with Frankenstein - both to reminisce and ponder. The man had been attacked by Ragar and Gejutel whilst crossing the border to Lukedonia and although the rumours portrayed him otherwise, he had been stunning, absolutely blinding in soul and in wit. Had Frankenstein not sought to hide in his mansion, Raizel would have payed him a visit regardless. Not just to intervene but also to bear witness to a man who like him, was akin to legend. His conclusion hadn't come solely based on Frankenstein's looks (to which he still believes there is no parallel), the air around him had had an electric sort of intensity that demanded attention. Although that could be credited to the Dark Spear, to this day, Raizel felt that deep within him, Frankenstein had called him. To put it in human terms, as they're ever so lovely and generous with phrases, he had felt "drawn in". Amidst facing betrayal and misfortune, Frankenstein had remained true to himself all the while, something that Raizel had sensed upon meeting him. His initial assessment had led him to conclude that the blonde-haired male was courageous and cunning and positively brimming with life. There stood before him a specimen like no other he'd come across during his exile away. Nobles and werewolves aplenty but Frankenstein had shed light on what lay outside the dark walls of his dreary abode. Already burdened since birth with his title, Raizel had never sought to abuse it or have it be his obsession, a notion that only further cemented itself death after death he laid upon so many. But after putting his own brother to sleep, even the nobles had expressed concern when he'd locked himself inside his room and in his heart. The only thing he was allowed was a view - a view of the land to serve as a reminder of what he was created for. When experiencing isolation and pain like no other, it's too easy to lose oneself. Raizel had had to work through all that to realise that he really was made to protect the world. Not in a high and mighty sense, but in a sobering and bittersweet moment of clarity. Even his most precious friend - he'd had to hurt in the end. That was what he took with him into his coffin. Peace and quiet after thinking for so long and regretting, and yearning to feel something aside from suffocation had been what he had wanted. And perhaps the centuries it took for him to awaken once more had covered it until only a little hole was left in his spirit - small yet overwhelming. Seeing Frankenstein in the flesh after darkness had felt so familiar walking into that office of his. The warmth he'd craved had been and still is abundant in the figure he called his own. Many had questioned why Raizel had taken Frankenstein in and shielded the apparent rogue back then, Gejutel included. But with the lack of opposition from the lord, the real reason was never brought to the surface. The only detail those who had been very curious figured out was the blood contract they drew. They did not think to reason that while Raizel may have saved Frankenstein's life, Frankenstein had coincidentally done the same for him in return, giving him reason not to submit to the loneliness that plagued him. Being surrounded by others with problematic intentions was tiring and Raizel could only detach himself to an extent before it got personal. Frankenstein had filled his vast mansion with his pleasant character and remained there, slowly illuminating the dull and musty confines. Such rendezvous between polar opposites had forever kept Raizel humble and grateful because he knew that even if the whole world were against him, Frankenstein would be by his side, radiant and god-like in his loyalty and devotion. Their bond kept them both safe. It made Frankenstein stronger and sealed the Dark Spear's power so that it did not consume him entirely. Raizel needed that reassurance - if Frankenstein ever found himself in a difficult situation, he had resources to call upon. What had he been thinking exactly? Accepting a contract with a human, a being so fragile that they were considered as one of the weakest species being known to the nobles - this being the very reason why the nobles protected them. Raizel had accepted it too quickly. If Frankenstein had wanted to betray him, he would have without so much as a strained breath and perhaps Raizel would have let him. He was no stranger to betrayal on every scale. He'd learned to be cautious and expect the unexpected from everyone. So maybe when he saw the sincerity in Frankenstein's actions no matter how small, he let himself appreciate. It wasn't until he realised that Frankenstein stood in his shoes, that he finally understood the connection they had. The humans had betrayed Frankenstein yet he protected them nonetheless. Countless nobles and werewolves had betrayed Raizel and yet he protected them too. He'd found it charming to think that a human wanted to reciprocate and did not make the mistake of underestimating Frankenstein unlike so many before him. There was understanding in that as well. Just the name itself led to skewed perceptions of the Noblesse. Raizel had never made it a point to make himself known as his job wasn't a pretty one and the tall tales only grew. An entity like no other, a force to be reckoned with, to fear and cower and quake in its presence. Some did, recognising his power immediately while others found it amusing and pathetic that a puny young thing would hold such a title. Death awaited both these types of individuals no matter how Raizel tried to prevent such a turn of events. Raizel was going to hold onto Frankenstein for as long as he could until either one of them met their end, as morbid as that was. Frankenstein would be able to manage as he'd proven for the last 820 years. Could that apply to Raizel? He doubted it. Thinking like this helped to ground him so that he wouldn’t stray too far, wouldn’t delude himself at least. Humans always made a point in showing that life was too short and even after living for centuries, this concept was unwavering. His phone buzzed. [Frankenstein 18:05PM]I'm terribly sorry, master. I have a staff dinner to attend tonight. Please don't wait up for me and have your meal with the others as usual. A soft sigh left him. "How cumbersome." [Master 18:06PM]Alright. See you later then. [Frankenstein 18:06PM]I won't be long. "Rai, seriously! If we don't hurry we'll miss out on the sale!" Shinwoo waved madly for him to come into the grocery store, adamant on balancing the boxes he was carrying. Raizel wondered if this meant he could stock up on ramen. Better to be safe than sorry. Apparently it was a trend now to prepare for the worst. What did they call it? The apocalypse? “Phew, thank goodness you were here Seira. And you too Regis. We managed to get the last few pieces!” Yuna smiled at the two until she caught something in her peripheral. M-21 and Takeo were carrying stacks of ramen, oddly reminiscent of stone columns that had been popular during the Greek and Roman times. Tao was furiously clapping away, pausing only for a second to snap a quick photo, presumably to send to the boss. Raizel wasn’t going to stop him. After all, Frankenstein hadn’t bothered to mention this “staff dinner” before today. Served him right for assuming that he wouldn’t do anything in the meanwhile. He was probably too busy playing chairman. As they checked out, Raizel took a peek at what Frankenstein was having to deal with. In a semi-crowded restaurant, amidst tables of drunk men and women alike, Frankenstein was grilling meat, eyes hidden by the reflection of his glasses. An air of impatience surrounded him, unbeknownst to those in his company. Just as they’d finished ordering, he’d taken a glance at his phone when it vibrated in his pocket. The sight that had greeted him had been one of his master and his servants, holding what looked like an offering to some modern god whose preference was that of “original, unbeatable, hot and spicy”. Frankenstein let out a soft sigh, not that he needed to be careful. His colleagues could keep quite the conversation going and what with the added noise of background music and sizzling pork belly, he was safe. It didn’t go unnoticed however when he picked up the pair of scissors they’d provided and continued to cut the cooked meat with utmost precision. As soon as he was done with the first batch, greedy hands and hungry stomachs grabbed at the opportunity to indulge. “Hey, wow, would you look at that everyone. Not only is our chairman an exceptional board member, he’s also a lean, mean, grilling machine!” A particularly loud co-worker of his had managed to spit those words out whilst shovelling more rice into his mouth. He had clearly been spoiled by his master who had the elegance of a hundred nobles. To his horror, the table erupted into laughter and Frankenstein had to avert his eyes as every speck, drop and piece of food in their mouths reared their ugly faces at him. He managed a smile. Fortunately, because they’d ordered so much, Frankenstein was kept by the grill, thankful for the fact that this meant he was somewhat excused for the remainder of the discussion. Whenever his obsessive-compulsiveness decided to kick in, he’d always revert to seeking comfort from his master. Merely watching him sip his tea so daintily put him at ease. However, to his dismay, his master wasn’t here right now. Or so he thought.
Are you sure you want to use those oil-covered scissors to gouge their eyes out?
As if by command, his master’s voice filled his ears and Frankenstein had to keep himself from sniggering. Yes, he really was spoilt. “Chairman Lee, here, let me take over for you. You should eat while the soup is still hot.” The little woman in charge of the English department stood up and took the tongs from him, gesturing for him to sit down. So he did, unsure of whether that had been a coincidence or of his master’s doing. He realised that it was going to be his first meal of the day considering he’d had to review the up-coming semester’s outline during lunch.
Naughty. You heard her, take a bite.
Almost instinctively, Frankenstein brought his spoon up to his mouth, fascinated by the flavours that hit him. It reminded him of Seira’s cooking.
Master?
I remember you telling me that you weren’t one to go out of his way for meals cooked by strangers. Something along those lines.
“Ah, I forgot to ask you earlier, Chairman Lee. Are we still going to be expecting visits from those lovely assessors?” Annoyed at his private time being interrupted, Frankenstein was quick to clip back. “What assessors?” “Oh you know! The handsome man and pretty woman who filled in as substitutes - I think for P.E. and something else.” “You’re not still on about them are you, Minsoo? That was ages ago.”
I suppose then that Seira made soup for dinner, master.
Yes. Why don’t you have some more?
Frankenstein obliged, happier now that the Dark Spear wasn’t pressing in on him either. It tended to get wilder on days he was tired. Or hungry. Or generally in a weakened state. He prided himself on taking care but also tended to get carried away since he was a workaholic. While most men his age (in human years of course, calculated by some obscure ratio) liked to get plastered and sing their sorrows to anyone who would listen, Frankenstein preferred to stick to his routine. It made it easier for him to stay in control. Place all the variables and know them inside out — that was his motto.
Frankenstein, how much longer are you going to be here?
Snapped out of his daze, he cleared his throat, making haste to finish the bowl in front of him. Looking around the table, he noticed that some people were already slurring their words. To think that the rest of the world thought of South Korea as the nation with exceptional alcohol tolerance, misleading in a way.
Another hour at most. I’ll be sure to wrap this up quickly.
Glancing at his watch, Frankenstein’s eyes widened as the little hand stared back, opting to the number 10. No wonder he’d felt like the time had flown, because it had. His master came to mind but he dismissed it. They were going to have to have another talk at home. Quickly wiping his mouth, Frankenstein stood up and went to pay for the meal, amused when he saw Minsoo hovering over a shot glass, focused, as if possessed by the supernatural. This was a good indication if any that this meeting was adjourned. “Shall I call a cab?” Fast-forward to a group of otherwise fairly reserved and respectable citizens stumbling out of the restaurant, Frankenstein had been left to deal with Minsoo on his own. He’d heard about her drinking habits but it hadn’t occurred to him that he’d be dealing with them so soon. She wasn’t going to answer him. Not in this state. Hesitating, Frankenstein made sure that his master wasn’t watching as he picked up the frail-looking girl. Who knew where she’d been before this or what her clothes had touched. And what clothes they were, old and wrinkled, who allowed her to leave the house like that? He was irritated but he wasn’t going to leave her by herself. Yet regrettably, walking out with the crumpled and daresay unconscious mess in his arms, Frankenstein again thought of his master. The last time he’d done something like this wasn’t a good memory. Then again, as if this was any better. He took his phone out to call Tao and have M-21, or any of them really, escort Minsoo home. He walked to their drop off point, barely managing to keep her standing and Takeo came by post-haste to take her much to his relief. The drive home was quiet. Normally Frankenstein liked to have the radio on but he couldn’t shake the weight he still felt in his hands. If he’d been more careful, he could’ve avoided that trigger, found someone to take her with them out of the restaurant. During the late nights and early mornings, when he was particularly vulnerable, the Dark Spear satiated itself on his worst fears. Sickeningly gruesome depictions of each and every one of his children dying at the hands of pure evil. Those images he could move past, albeit with a swift visit to their rooms. His master on the other hand, would disappear into thin air. What had driven him for eternity on his fruitless search for his master had been the need to know. No matter what fate Frankenstein had thought his master had met while they were apart, he could handle. At least that way he wouldn’t be left grappling blindly. And the Dark Spear knowing this, used it to break him, little by little. Suspended in a hell-like limbo of struggling, not knowing, and of dying never knowing. As intangible as fine mist, his master would be gone and Frankenstein would only blame himself till his last trembling breath. “Boss!” Tao saluted him, giving a little bow as Frankenstein approached. “Going on patrol?” “Ya know it. We’re taking turns since Takeo’s out. And who knows how long he’ll be.” Frankenstein offered an absent-minded nod and hurried towards the house, as was custom it seemed these days. The Dark Spear wasn’t going to get the best of him, not in front of the children. Taking a step inside, he went straight to his room to get changed and wash his hands. After staring into the mirror for a solid minute or two, Frankenstein decided on a shower. His clothes and his hair smelt of smoke and soju, neither of which were particularly appealing at the moment. The Dark Spear scorned him for being shook up so easily. He often joked that the weapon was his lover since it wasn’t too far from the truth. It knew things he wished it didn’t, it could hurt him and it could scare him. A triple threat with a wicked sense of humour. The hot water briefly soothed him and when he turned the tap to shut it off, he felt his control slowly return. Just to be certain, Frankenstein made quick work of his hair, drying it and meticulously arranging each strand. He avoided the eyes of his own reflection and tried not to wince when he sensed a spark of glee from the Dark Spear. Sometimes, he wished he’d never touched the thing in the first place. Such a thought was dreadfully followed by the disparaging realisation that he didn’t want to be alone. Even if it meant being consumed.
Frankenstein.
I have returned, master.
Could you make us some tea?
Like clockwork, Frankenstein left his room to go to the kitchen, allowing his muscle memory to take over. Within seconds, he’d made two steaming cups of tea and he carried them on a tray like he always did, longing to see his master and savour his presence. It was tragic but it did wonders for his mental stability. Following a quiet knock on the door, Frankenstein entered, bowing to his master who was seated at the coffee table. He was wearing a loose-fitting silk shirt that was far too open. Already he felt less anxious and with gratitude, he kneeled beside his master’s favourite armchair to mix in some sugar and serve his tea. Raizel took the cup and its saucer, drinking quietly. Frankenstein stayed on the ground and cradled his own cup in his hands. His voice came out low and hushed. “I’m sorry for coming home so late, master.” “Frankenstein.”
He looked up and his master’s eyes were piercing in the surrounding darkness of the room. They held so much emotion and tenderness, whilst still requiring the courtesy of attention. Red was a lovely colour. Frankenstein smiled - he was fine, perfectly fine beside his master. “Will you allow me to touch you?” His master put aside his cup and Frankenstein nodded, moving closer when his master patted his thigh. “Come.” Frankenstein shuffled as close as he could and carefully placed the side of his head down in his master’s lap. The peace and stillness was wonderful. Raizel’s hand came to rest on his forehead, instilling warmth and relief. That hand gently ran through his hair and Frankenstein closed his eyes, fixated on the comfort he could only receive from his master. It made him cry and he had to sit up in order to not ruin his master’s pants. “Why don’t you stay here tonight?” Words failed him so Frankenstein nodded once more, promptly wiping his tears with the back of his hand. He took several gulps of his tea and set his half-empty cup on the coffee table. Resistance was futile and before he knew it, he’d laid his head back down, hoping to swallow the rest of his tears as well rather than drown in them. “Frankenstein, you know I love you, don’t you?” In the distance, he could hear the sounds of traffic and noise - the nightlife. The Dark Spear wasn’t lashing out. “What you feel for me and what I feel for you are the same. I know you’re afraid. I am too. But as long as we’re together, as we are now, we don’t have to be afraid.” Raizel was stroking his hair and Frankenstein moved up to rest his hands on the arms of the chair, a knee balancing him as he kissed his master. He needed this attention, this assurance, because everything else was going to shit. His master was sick and yet he was the one being consoled. They tried to make the most out of everything they did. But what did they do exactly? Go to work and school. Come home. Eat dinner and repeat. Was this enough? Was Frankenstein enough? “Shh…” A hand came to rest on the back of his head, pulling him in and locking their lips once again. “You think too much.” “Can’t help it”, Frankenstein mumbled in response. “It never really stops. The voices. The thoughts.” “I know…” His master was giving him a doleful look so Frankenstein situated himself on his master’s lap, wrapping his legs around that thin waist. The waist that never failed to stand out in whatever clothing he wore. His master’s hand came down to his lower back where it stayed, as if urging him to shuffle forward and land on the spot that would give them both pleasure. “But you know what?” “Mm?” Frankenstein sensed the curiosity and wished that God would be kind, would freeze time for him so he could protect the person most precious to him and lock this moment away somewhere safe. “It all goes quiet when I’m with you, master.” With a swish of a finger, Frankenstein’s pristine white shirt came undone and Raizel leaned forward to press kisses along his neck, down to his chest. There was something to be said about another person’s presence, especially that of his darling Frankenstein. This tender side of him was for his eyes only and if the divinity in charge of his existence had thought he’d deserved such kindness, he would not refute it. “The s-seal helps too, of course.” “Is it getting harder to control? Is that why you’re trying to reassure me?” In-between tongue and teeth and filthy human desire, Frankenstein felt the Dark Spear flicker, as if aware that his master had acknowledged its presence. He felt it burn within him, slowly churning beneath the surface and Frankenstein watched as the licks of purple flame surrounded him. “Do I need to teach you again?” Even like this, his master was touching him, using those delicate fingers of his to trace lines and patterns across his abdomen and Frankenstein swallowed hard. Despite his prior knowledge, he was afraid that those flames would come to harm his master. “You remember, don’t you? Our private training sessions.” He remembered it all too well frankly speaking. Seated across from his master beside the dull roar of the fire, out in the woods at twilight to blow off steam, his master’s unrelenting voice amongst it all, guiding him through the twists and turns of black matter that was so dark he’d never thought to consider it a shade of purple. The flames curled upwards, poised and ready to strike. This was what became of him when he let his emotions run wild. “Show me that you remember.” Raizel leaned back into his seat, regarding Frankenstein with a stern yet amused look about him. He must look pitiful with his clothes and hair in disarray, which were immaculate only seconds before. And there, at his point of vulnerability, the Dark Spear spoke to him.
If you can’t even handle it now, what are you going to do when I’m gone, Frankenstein?
It was his master’s voice, although distorted and much too raspy. Frankenstein’s vision became cloudy but he fought the consuming urge to let himself be taken into that dimension of despair. It was right. If God forbid the seal broke and his master wasn’t there to contain him, he could not imagine the responsibility of having to face the truth of his incapability.
Have you come to terms with your own abandonment?
Shut up.
The first thing he needed to do was to stop the power manifesting itself around him and in doing so, stifle that cockiness the Dark Spear suddenly seemed to have. Frankenstein let out a chuckle, letting his hair fall across his face as he looked down. The flames froze in motion and Frankenstein breathed a sigh of impatience. He was going to have to perform some more experiments down in the lab.
You think you’ll be able to survive without me? If you don’t have a human host, there’s no way of using your power. Face it, you’re too unstable. Enjoy it while you can.
His master quietly observed as the flames recoiled and vanished altogether. Frankenstein twitched as the Dark Spear didn’t take his insult so lightly. He flexed his arm and pushed his hair back behind his ear as he looked up at his master - an animalistic flash causing his eyes to briefly gleam. Raizel laughed, reminding Frankenstein that he was in the present. He relaxed and put his thoughts aside. His master was here so now was the perfect opportunity to let him know, even if it felt childish. “Please…warn me if you ever decide to do anything rash, master. Promise me that you will.” There it was, his real reason. Understanding flowed through their bond and Frankenstein was temporarily taken back to a time when he’d been on a path to devour everything in sight, to fill that emptiness in him at the expense of others. He did not wish to return to that sentiment. He could be wild but cruelty towards the innocent was not so deeply embedded within him. “Of course, Frankenstein. You have my word.” He felt a hand come to his side, smooth and soft yet tempting all the same. That was, in summary, a fair description of his master. He did not know whether it was because his mind had become unhinged or because it was simply in his nature, as it was that whenever his master looked at him with a sort of sweetness, he had the urge to pounce. Indeed this was probably what led him to enjoy being tamed and controlled. It was often a misconception that the supposed dominant was in charge, for if the submissive did not allow this, there would be no scene to play upon. “Master…could I ask one more thing from you?” Frankenstein kept his side of the bond closed for this so that his master didn’t surprise him. What was the use of engaging in a game if your opponent could see your cards? This was friendly after all and his master wasn’t going to get hurt. Rather, he was going to do the hurting. “What is it?” That was the only permission he needed. Frankenstein took his master’s hand and guided it up to his neck, not before pressing a kiss into the palm. The drawback to keeping quiet was that he could no longer discern his master’s thoughts either. Touché.
He’s lying…
Without hesitation, Frankenstein closed his master’s hand around his throat and savoured the pressure of having his airways restricted. It was hard to forget that his master was the Noblesse. But like this, with nothing else between them, Frankenstein loved such a simple act of dominance. The effect it had was indescribable and Raizel revelled in the sounds that he could hear - Frankenstein's heartbeat, his blood flowing, the very muscles tensing beneath his grip. He knew how conflicted Frankenstein was. Their years apart had stifled his bonded’s exuberant “tyranny” to a point where he'd almost seemed like a totally different person. As much as he preferred the new and improved edition, or so Frankenstein liked to put it, he could not fathom the lengths it must've taken for his character to diminish and harden over time.
Whatever Frankenstein wanted, he was going to give. However long he had left, he would do everything in his power to keep Frankenstein from teetering over the edge. He knew he could trust the man with his life, but to say the same for himself, that was involute. So much hesitance on his part when it came to the invaluable human in his life - it was unlike the Noblesse. If he was going to remain as protector, he had to be sure.
There were thoughts and desires and questions he could answer. Beyond that lay the future - as barren and as utterly incomprehensible as the thing they called math here on Earth. Who would he trust to take care of Frankenstein in his absence? At the rate he was going, there was no telling if he'd make it to the end of the year.
And so his grip tightened and Raizel watched Frankenstein melt, unable to keep the sense of longing from flowing across their bond. He was being a hypocrite now. What control? Frankenstein, sensing this, let go and his master felt an ocean of concupiscence and predisposition open up before him. Oh he was weak, but humans were so much weaker and Raizel would not have his bonded shoulder all responsibility.
"Take off your pants."
With his master's hand still around his neck, Frankenstein gathered enough strength to lift himself slightly. He looked down at his master who was staring right back at him, causing him to bite his lip as he slowly undid the button to his trousers and unzip them. His head pounded as a result of the lack of oxygen and he was getting increasingly aroused, barely able to hear the zipper glide. Did his master have something planned? He was dying to know.
At this point, Raizel had realised that Frankenstein liked the skin contact. He could choke him all the same without having to touch him but a part of Raizel insisted that he do it this way. It gave him a bit of a rush, playing with the idea of asphyxiation so intimately, so directly. He squeezed and felt Frankenstein moan, his lips otherwise parted and mouth unable to relay words. Glancing down, he was met with a glorious sight. Frankenstein's cock was up high and proud, glinting a familiar moistness Raizel liked to see. He pressed a finger to the tip and watched a jolt run through Frankenstein. The latter was making an effort to watch, to which his master obliged with a slap. A slap and it was something akin to sin. Frankenstein instantly shot up, as if electrocuted, only to have his master use the pad of his thumb to press on one of the main carotid arteries in his neck. Well shit, this wasn't quite what he'd had in mind since the atmosphere had been so...subdued. That was until his master had decided to undoubtedly change that. A million things came to mind but Frankenstein couldn't ignore the sensation of having his master strike him. "Again?" His cock was betraying his anticipation and his master chuckled. If it weren't for their bond, Frankenstein might've missed the delicious sounds of unabashed amusement. He needed to breathe, or at least level his breathing. The question was - would his master let him? There was no way to reply either (considering his current predicament), making it a simple matter of patience. He was beginning to feel incredibly light-headed. As always, his master was excruciatingly slow with him and when he felt a finger delicately trace the inner part of his thigh, Frankenstein trembled. He wanted to sink back into his master's lap and impale himself on his master's own arousal until he was satisfied. Raizel let his fingernails dig in as he worked his hand around Frankenstein's left thigh, observing closely at the ligaments visibly shifting under the skin. His boy seemed nervous, or perhaps apprehensive at what was to follow. "Where should I touch you next?"