Chapter Text
You don't know how much time has passed. Minutes, hours, days perhaps? Time has lost all meaning as you find yourself floating in a haze of memories, impressions, and thoughts that threaten to overwhelm your mind at any moment. They have already overwhelmed your senses, it seems, for you are unaware of any sounds, and your eyes are unfocused, unseeing as you try to make sense of it all.
Some of the things you can clearly place. Like the now much more present and much more vivid memories of a city in flames, of fire falling from the sky, and screams echoing through the streets. The memories of the final days are much more intense, much more personal than the scenery you had seen down in the recreated Amaurot. If you concentrate, you could almost swear you can taste the hints of ashes on your tongue.
There are memories of people, faces, and names that go with them, impressions that linger, and more - an understanding of magicks nearly too complex to grasp. If you think too much about it, it feels like you are going mad, but it leaves you with the distinct feeling that you could do a lot more things now as long as you would manage not to get lost in the confusing details.
And then there are memories of yourself.
They seem odd.
You see yourself, and there is nothing but love accompanying those images. Genuine, heartfelt emotions and you blink, trying to clear your head.
"It's not enough, isn't it, my dear?" comes Emet-Selch's slightly resigned voice, pushing slowly through the fog that surrounds you.
When you turn your head a bit, you manage to focus on him, on the sound of his voice and the touch of his arms still around you. You try once more to make sense of the memories, but something feels off about them as your find yourself wondering just why you would see yourself like that.
"I know things I didn't know before, but these memories, they don't feel like they are mine," you finally manage to put these thoughts into words, and when you blink again, you can see his face clearly.
"That's because they are not," Emet-Selch tells you with a look filled with regret. "You left, my dear. Or rather, who you used to be left. When I made this crystal for you, you were already gone, far out of reach. You weren't there to imbue it with your thoughts."
And suddenly, you understand. These memories, they are his own. The things he could recall about your duties, your abilities, and your life. They do feel familiar, but at the same time, it's like you are watching a stranger's life through a looking glass. There is a strange sense of comfort in them nonetheless, and you wonder if it stems from his feelings for the person you used to be. They had clearly been strong, and from how he has made sure that you would end up right where you are, you can only guess they still are. It leaves you with one glaring question, though.
"Why am I here?"
Emet-Selch's brow furrows.
"Because you belong here, with me, of course," he says with a frown. "What kind of question is this, after all we have been through together, my dear?"
His tone leaves no room for doubt, and yet you can't entirely dismiss the sense of dread rising within.
"Is it me though that belongs here, or her? The woman you remember?"
"Does it matter?"
A simple question, but the answer is not simple at all.
"It does to me," you whisper quietly, and when he sees the worry in your eyes, he cups your cheek, caressing it gently as he cradles you against him.
"You are the same, memories of your own or not," Emet-Selch vows, and his fingers trail over your face before his lips close over yours. The kiss is soft but unrelenting at the same time, drawing you in until you find yourself pressing closer against his chest, holding on to him with a shaky grip until he draws back enough to speak again. "I did not imbue you with these memories to return someone I lost millennia ago, my dear. Believe me, I am quite aware of the impossibility of such a feat."
He lets one hand wander across your back, his touch soothing and warm as he holds you in his arms.
"The color of your soul is the same, but you are no one but yourself, and the magic and the knowledge you gained from the crystal will not change that. I never expected them to."
He sounds completely honest, and for once, there is no impish or threatening look in his eyes as he holds your gaze.
That is until not just his tone but also his words sink in.
"So what is going to happen now?" you ask quietly, biting your lower lip as you wonder about his plans. "Why would you give me all this if it doesn't return me to the person I once was?"
"You still don't believe me, do you?"
Emet-Selch lets out a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, he tilts your head for another kiss. It's soft, with no frustration lingering behind his touch, only endless patience, it seems.
"You are enough, my dear girl," he whispers softly against your lips. "But that doesn't mean I won't teach you what you need to survive."
"To survive?" you ask with a confused frown, and when he draws back, Emet-Selch smiles once more.
"I said I was going to keep you, did I not? There are certain things you will need when staying at my side. But don't fret about it too much; we have all the time in the world now."
"We do?" you ask, a frown on your face deepening. "Wait, I do?"
He caresses your face again, watching you closely as his smile widens.
"Of course, memories or not, your soul has been raised back to its rightful place, with all the upsides that come with it," he explains with a slight shrug like his explanation is a mundane matter and not something utterly mind-blowing and life-changing for you.
Emet-Selch draws you closer against him. One of his hands is in the back of your neck, tilting your head so he can leave a trail of kisses along your throat while the other trails over your hip. For a moment, he is all gentle touches and soft caresses, and you find yourself relaxing in his arms. Your mind is still in turmoil, unsure what to make of all this. Slowly but surely, you realize that his softness no longer completely terrifies you. There is still a lingering bit of fear there, but it quickly gets drowned out by the way he touches you. Especially when he suddenly holds you firmer and moves you with him.
Emet-Selch rolls onto his back, drawing you on top of him as if you weigh nothing at all. Your hands fly to steady yourself on his chest so you can keep your balance. His cock is hard between your legs, and when he grabs your hips, you don't hesitate to follow his lead, raising yourself a bit and reaching for him. With one slight shift, you feel the tip of his cock rubbing through your folds once, and after everything that happened earlier, it takes you no effort at all to sink down onto his cock until he is all the way inside you in one move.
"Besides," he murmurs, as he moves his hip up once, and you shudder when his lips graze over your cheek. "Who knows what memories of yours will return once you’re no longer burdened by certain things. There is really only one thing left to do."
"And that is?" you ask with bated breath.
You let out a sigh of pleasure when he reaches for you once more, pulling you closer. He doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he kisses his way along your jaw until his lips close around your earlobe with a playful pull.
"Rid you of that pesky vessel that stifles you," he finally says, and a shiver runs down your back as you try to make sense of his words.
"You mean-" you start asking, tilting your head to find his eyes. They brim with eerie desire, and you swallow heavily before you add, "Sometimes, I can't tell if you want me to love you or fear you."
You are shivering against him, clinging to the warmth of his chest like a lifeline as he lazily shifts his hips, moving you along just a bit.
"Why, both, of course, my dear."
He laughs softly, his hand gently cupping your cheek and cradling you against him before he whispers in your ear, "I want you to shiver in fear of what I might do to you each time I so much as look at you, and I want you to love me so desperately, that you could never even imagine yourself denying me."
One of his hands is firmly on your hips, keeping you moving ever so slightly as something ice-cold runs down your back at his words, both at their directness and at the burning knowledge that he will get exactly what he wants from you. There is no doubt about that left anymore. The game had never been fair in the first place, not with you being oblivious and him knowing every intimate detail about you. He had won from the moment he first laid eyes on you, known from the very beginning that you would fulfill his every twisted desire.
"You are so broken," you murmur softly as you lean further into his warm touch, grinding your hips against him.
"Perhaps," Emet-Selch agrees, "But so are you, I've seen to that. And everything is much more bearable with the right company." His demeanor suddenly changes, something in his eyes shifts, and he looks a bit more distant, even though his voice sounds pleasantly warm. "Don't worry. The first time leaving your flesh behind is always difficult. But I am here to help. It will get rid of some of your more pesky memories as well. The ones that might hold you back. "
His words do little to assure you, especially not when his eyes seem to look almost through you, as if he is searching for something.
"What if I don't want you to?" you murmur quietly, and something about it is enough to have him focus back on you.
Emet-Selch's hand sneaks up your back, burying itself in your hair before he twists it harshly. He snaps his hips up into you at the exact moment, causing you to gasp in both pleasure and pain.
"Have you already forgotten that what you want doesn't matter?" he taunts, giving your hair a tug until you are forced to bend your head further back.
"But-"
"Shh, not another word," he interrupts you with a click of his tongue. "This is the part where I want you to fear me, dear. You can love me later, but for now, your terror will make this a lot more interesting."
You have the feeling he is deadly serious about this, and everything in you is suddenly on high alert. Panic surges through you. What's left of your sense of normalcy is screaming at you to get away from him and run with every fiber of your being.
"No, you don't have to do this, not this," you beg, trying to scramble away, but his hands on you are like steel, trapping you against his body. "I'm already yours," you try to appeal to him. "You know I'll do whatever you want, and-"
"I think it is time for you to stop talking, my dear," he murmurs before one hand wraps around your throat, and you barely have enough time to draw in a shocked gasp before he clamps down, choking off your air. Your hands fly up, closing around his wrists and trying to pry him off, but he doesn't move even an ilm. Instead, his fingers twitch against your throat as he shakes you once before simply pushing you back onto his cock.
"There are very few things more arousing than you struggling with all your might and failing," He smiles as he snaps his hips harshly, burying himself as deep inside you as he can. "But the most enjoyable part is when I keep this up long enough until your body starts to shut down. Until I have you shaking and clenching around my cock from the struggle."
Your eyes are tearing up, and your nails dig into his skin, but it's all in vain as he keeps fucking you with rough thrusts while not letting up. His other hand cups your cheek, though, and his touch is deceptively soft as he lets his thumb brush over your lower lip. Your mouth is open in a desperate bid for air, but whatever you can hope to still draw in through his painfully tight grasp gets cut off as his lips seal over yours in a kiss that seems to demand everything from you. His tongue is hot as it sweeps through your mouth as he kisses you once more like he owns you.
"Even in this, you are perfect, my dear," he murmurs against your lips. "Ruined, broken, and most of all, mine. You are all of that so beautifully, even when you resist." Briefly, he catches your lower lip between his teeth and bites down. You are unable to yell at the pain, but you twitch under it all the same.
"I think you will enjoy this in the end. You like it when your will doesn't matter, after all."
With the way you thrash on top of him, not ceasing your struggle, it's getting harder for him to keep you in check, and with a low growl, he grabs you, and the room seemingly shifts as he flips you over and presses you deeply into the mattress. He's back inside you right away, his grip on your throat never letting up once. From the way he smiles at you through all that, you aren't sure he even feels a difference between you fighting for your life and writhing in pleasure under his touch. Your lungs burn, hot tears spill down your face from exhaustion, and your grip on his wrists gets weaker. In the corners of your eyes, darkness creeps up on you. But Emet-Selch is not about to let you go gently; that much is sure. Briefly, he loosens his hold enough so you can wheeze for air once. The sudden draw of breath filling your lungs hurts, but your scream of pain is cut off with your ability to breathe once more. And all through it, he keeps thrusting into you harshly. All you can hear over the thundering rush of your own heartbeat are the sounds of skin slapping against skin and the treacherous noises telling how soaking wet you still are for him despite all this. The humiliation alone is almost enough to send you over the edge, leaving you mortified in your pointless struggle.
And then Emet-Selch lets go of your face, and his hand slides down to your thighs. At his first touch, you thrash in his hold. Your hands tingle and the feeling of a thousand needles rushes through your arms as you twist helplessly in his arms, desperate for air he isn't granting you. Instead, he finds that bundle of nerves between your legs. His smile is both expectant and terribly cruel as he pinches hardly, and it is enough to make you come almost instantly, your lips parted in a voiceless scream.
Violent pleasure runs through you, even as you can no longer keep your eyes open. You are important to him, but what you want truly isn't, you know that know, you finally fully understand as you give in to the darkness pulling you under in the full knowledge that he isn't done with you yet - but you can't do a thing about it. Under his might, you are truly free.
The next time you awaken, you are disoriented. The air tastes strange on your tongue, the sound of blood rushing through your ears is there in the background with a low hum. Everything is slightly surreal. You're not sure the room around you is solid. For the briefest of moments, you think you see yourself like in those memories. Only you are not radiant and graceful, but lying in front of you.
Unmoving.
Twisted.
And then you blink, and your perspective shifts.
You look up at him with wide eyes as he smiles and comforts you, drawing a strand of your hair out of your face.
"This is where you belong, my dear," Emet-Selch whispers. "This is the only place where you can truly feel at ease."
You briefly remember that you were worried about something. Afraid even? But you shiver under the knowledge that he is right, that you don't want to be anywhere else, but something lingers on your mind.
"There was something, did I have a duty?"
The words are barely audible as they fall from your lips, but he clearly hears them if his frown is any indication.
"Ah, yes, that…"
His disgruntled voice is rough before his hand twitches, and even though you can't think clearly enough to make sense of all this, you know instinctively that something terrible is about to happen again.
"Don't-" you start, but there is no more air left to finish your plea.
"Don’t you worry, sometimes these things can’t be rushed," Emet-Selch smiles, and it's the last thing you see before darkness claims you again.
Another moment of vague impressions. You are unsure if anything you see is genuine. Memories, his or yours? Who can tell? They are unclear, muddled, and more and more distant. Like they aren’t important at all. You stand and watch like you're not really there, and yet you are, before you find yourself underneath him once more, lost in his golden gaze.
"Tell me, my dear, would you want this to last forever?" he asks, sounding like he is perfectly fine to hold idle conversation all while you are frowning and trying to understand what he means.
What would you want to last forever? Being with him? This strange, dream-like state? You're not even sure if you are still moving or if you are lying perfectly still.
"I… can't," you get out through parched lips as you remember one thing. "I have to do something else, something important."
Emet-Selch gives you an indulging, almost benevolent-looking smile.
"And you will," he assures you. "All in good time."
And this time, you are sure he moves, but with it, the darkness swallows you once more, and you swim in a sea of blissful nothingness. Everything around you is so pleasantly warm, you don't think you have ever felt this safe before, this loved. And when the strange sensation of looking at yourself from further away comes by again, you ignore it, choosing to focus on the warmth around you instead.
When you open your eyes, he is right above, caging you in with his arms left and right of you.
"Now, my dear, isn't this perfection?" he asks, and you gasp as you feel his naked skin pressed against your own as he slowly rocks into you.
"It is," you murmur, licking your lips as your eyes fall down to his, and you yearn for him to kiss you. But instead, he speaks to you once more.
"Don't you want to stay right here with me, forever?"
It should be such an easy answer. The yes is already on your tongue when something else rears its head, and you falter.
"There was something…"
Emet-Selch lets out a dark chuckle.
"If you want me to stop, you need only to say your word."
He makes it sound so easy, but you blink in confusion before you look at him blankly.
"My word?"
"The one that ends all this," he explains with a generous smile. "Just say it, and we are done…"
Dimly you remember that you had an agreement once. How long ago, you cannot say. How much time has passed since you first met him? How much since you lost your battle? All these things seem like they were not long ago, and somehow they are also a lifetime away.
"I… don't remember my word," you murmur, searching his eyes for answers. "What was it?"
"Ah, but that is not how this works," he says as his smile widens. "You say the word, my dear, and I let you go. You don't say it, and I get to keep you and do whatever I want with you."
Something about that logic seems flawed, but the result sounds right. Sounds like it leaves you exactly where you want to be. In his arms, away from everything that could ever come between you.
He loves you.
Of that, there can be no doubt. In every way possible, perhaps. He loves you with an obsession that borders on madness. All-encompassing, never-faltering love. He loves you with an unending supply of affection. There is kindness within him that he gladly bestows on you for as long as you can bear it. But when it gets too much, and you feel like it breaks you apart, he always changes. For you. He loves you with a possessive rage that sometimes gets the better of him but that soothes the fear in you like nothing else. He loves you with a cruel spark of blinding anger in other moments when the frustration about just how difficult you make it for him to be gentle gets too much. He loves you with a sadistic sense of pleasure in instances when every soft touch is lost on you. He changes over and over again, always to what you need the most.
Except for some moments.
Sometimes he hurts you, and not because you want him to. Full of intent, he drags you to the ground, and when his eyes have a particular shine to them, you know what he wants from you, know what he needs from you. In those moments, Emet-Selch needs you to suffer. For him. For something he has lost that even all you can give him can't fully replace. When his heart threatens to burst, he brings you low before him, belittles you with cutting words, and slowly takes you apart at the seams. He punishes you for sins you have no memory of committing until your tears, and your cries of anguish drown out his own.
And you revel in the violence of his affection for you. From gentle caresses to the gravest of pains, you come alive under his hands.
His world has no need for heroes, but there is room for you in it. You're not a hero to him, after all. You never were. You were the villain that he felled and to whom he is offering redemption.
He loves you, he sees you, he owns you - but do you love him?
You must. There is no alternative. If what binds you to him isn't unquestioning, unadulterated love, then this would be a tragedy, and you would be its victim. If you wouldn't love him with all your heart, then everything he has done to you would be one terrible crime. A grievous mistake. You have memories of times long past. They are not yours, but they are true nonetheless. Memories that show you a different man. Prideful but kind, difficult but caring. A helpful, gentle soul spending his life helping others. Helping you.
Hades…
Emet-Selch is still that man. And he is not. Filled with cruelty and bitterness that wasn't there before but has only grown over time. Yet he still helps you, still leaves everything behind at a call of his name falling from your lips. He hasn't changed in that regard. And you haven't either. You need him. Without each other, you are both lost.
Yet sometimes, when you wake up at night, bathed in sweat, the lingering echo of a forgotten nightmare still on your mind, your eyes fall shut as you try to steady yourself. In and out, counting down slowly with each breath drawn in to find some semblance of calm. You count down your breaths, ten, nine, eight… when you reach one, you feel steady again. It's an old ingrained habit, though by now you no longer remember why you are doing this.
Another deep breath as you embrace the calm. There is no need for fear, you are fine, and everything is as it is supposed to be.