lilorphanmaggie: (crimson shirt slight smile)
[personal profile] lilorphanmaggie
They have shared many Yules together, Justin and Margaret, but this is the very first and a very special Yule this year.  This is the first Yule for Junior, the boy who is growing faster than Margaret can keep up with.  She sort of blames that with being away a lot of the time.  Sure, there are days when she is nine to five, some days even less, but then there are those long weekends fighting off ghouls or escaped something or others, and when she returns her little boy is just totally different from when she left.

It's not easy to see time passing in startling chunks.

He's so big, and walking now, and those blue eyes have faded into the dark eyes of his mother and father, but that doesn't stop him from still looking like a spitting image of his sire.  Sometimes though, when he smiles or laughs and shows off the few teeth he has, he looks like his mother, and she likes that, a lot.

This year will be a white Yule for certain.  There is never not snow in the ground as soon as December hits, which makes decorating the DuMorne home problematic, but stunning in the end.  The house just seems to fit this kind of weather, and the green of the live tree and the garland with the holly just makes the whole place smell magical and ancient; this season is it's time to shine.  Despite the fact that the boy probably won't remember his first Christmas, that doesn't mean they aren't going to go all out.

Tis the season, to spoil the little prince even more than is usual.

Which is just what Margaret wants to do.  She has time off, and as long as all remains quiet, she will be spending the season with her family doing things like playing out in the snow and enjoying delicious food.  Nothing could be better.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-20 03:35 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] childhood-vader.livejournal.com
Despite it being quite a cold and dark winter (and a house without electric lights, no less), the day break of this particular morning is a sunny one. Sunbeams stream through the windows and bathe the Lord and Lady of the DuMorne estate.

So many Yule Justin and Margaret had started with an outdoor run. Early. No matter what the elements threw at them. It was good for her and he liked it, though as more and more years went by, the more he felt guilty for waking her up. Margaret hated mornings

This Yule he'll let her sleep in and even wrap his arms around her, to keep her in bed with him.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-20 03:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lilorphanmaggie.livejournal.com
Margaret hates mornings, she probably hates them more than vampires, which is saying something - especially since mornings haven't ever really tried to kill her. Sometimes, mornings are easy, not so easy, but easy enough for her not to be a grumpy bear. Other mornings are rough for her and the people around her, she tries not be like that, but, well - mornings are hard.

In the warm cocoon of their bed and their sheets, Margaret sleeps, pretty heavily, pretty deeply. However, the more the sun shines she starts to wake, slowly, easily which goes a long way to not turning her into a grump. By the time her husband wraps her arm around her she is sort of awake, but not enough so to open her eyes. Instead she just turns in his arms and snuggles close up to his chest. He is so warm, so nice to wrap around, she feels automatically better when she is wrapped up in him.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-20 12:23 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] childhood-vader.livejournal.com
Gradually is the key. The key to what, you ask? Softening the blow of 'morning' to Margaret. He wonders why she hates them so. Her personality? The vampire side of her? The longer that Justin had been a warden the more he loved mornings. Often the worst creatures he came in contact with we're nocturnal. Most spells were broken by the light of dawn.

Morning came to adopt this meaning for him - 'Congratulations, you've made it through what the night has brought you.' Even now, years removed from his duties, fortified in his powerful, ancestral home ... he still finds relief in the dawn. Maybe someday she would too.

Or should wouldn't and that's fine. Though he would always be her master their roles have evolved with time. He is no longer trying to instill discipline on her or grooming her into a warden of the next generation, his role is more to offer her council when he can. If he can. And to be her loving husband who at this point is not only happy to see another morning, but happy to have his wife at his side. It is his subtle show of respect to her that he no longer drags her ass out of bed at first light for a run anymore.

Justin kisses her brow so very lightly and rubs over her back with the faintest pressure from his fingertips.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-20 12:37 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lilorphanmaggie.livejournal.com
She'll probably drop the utter hatred of mornings the older she gets and the more she sees days that end and begin without her in bed with her husband. That's why she hates mornings, because the sun means they have to get out of bed and she can't be in his arms any more. That's pretty rough, not being in a warm bed with the softest blankets in the world and the sexiest, most loving husband. It's really hard to leave that, even worse when the boy joins them for morning cuddles.

She has no idea why, but he always smells like pancakes. Justin the younger, not Justin the elder. The elder smells, well, of a whole bunch of good things that she could pick out in a crowded room no problem. She takes a deep breath of him now and then yawns, slowly stretching out her long legs, body shuddering against his.

"I had a dream last night," she murmurs against his skin. "I had a dream that you were Superman and I was The Green Arrow and we were having drinks up on the top level of skyscraper with bad guys I guess. The deck was open and the building swayed and there was a breeze, and I was scared out of my mind, all I wanted to do was get down." It was a mildly awful dream.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-20 01:29 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] childhood-vader.livejournal.com
Justin tends to smell of myrrh, ironwood and coriander by his preferred cologne and soaps. He likes natural smells over synthetic 'modern' smells. Depending on the time of day or what he's in the middle of, he may have picked up the sent of his Turkish tobacco or the faint sweetness of the red grape on him. It's a handsome smell and fairly unique to Margaret's husband.

As for comic book heroes, Superman is so famous that even Justin knows of him. If he thinks back he can remember her father had an interest in them, the picture books. As far a superheroes go there are few more powerful and famous. Plus he's called 'superman'. Justin assumes that this is complimentary, but he's not really sure. Despite the fact that Green Arrow is an awfully old character, Justin has no idea who that is. He wasn't picking up any 'More Fun Comics' back in the day.

"We were comic heroes drinking with villains and you were scared of the height of the building?" Does he have that right?

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-20 01:40 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lilorphanmaggie.livejournal.com
She smells it now, pressed up against him, her nose against his chest and their sheets. There are such strong memories tied to smell and this is no different, good memories, not always easy memories but always good, always something to train her, strengthen her, turning her into the fine weapon she is now.

Her husband loves her, even when he wasn't her husband he loved her enough to train her correctly, thoroughly, and she adores him for that. Her hand smoothes over his scarred chest and she starts putting slow, sleepy kisses on it.

"Yes," she nods and arches her back to crack it before settling down against him. "Spot on, I kept thinking I was going to fall and I couldn't use my legs."

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-20 02:29 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] childhood-vader.livejournal.com
"Do you want to see an interpreter?" Not that reading dreams was ever a specialty for old Justin, but when it comes to a cocktail party of comic characters on the deck of a sky scraper ... he's got nothing.

"You're with me now." He says after a moment of trying to figure out what to say to her. "And I am here to keep you safe."

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-20 02:35 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lilorphanmaggie.livejournal.com
"No," she laughs lightly, a sleepy laugh that turns into a yawn. "I'm blaming it on too much spiced apple cider last night." That shit is delicious, and it's probably the one time a year Margaret gets drunk, because it is just so good and it makes her feel all warm and Yule...ish.

She lifts her head to look up at her husband before giving him a big smile and a gentle kiss to his mouth. "My hero, you'll always protect me. I'm always safe with you, you won't let me fall."

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-20 03:43 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] childhood-vader.livejournal.com
The cider is extraordinarily good in upstate New York. Some of the best orchards in the whole world are within a few miles of them. Chef takes advantage of the locally grown flavors of the region in his cooking, but more recently he's been experimenting (and fermenting) with cider. The results have been fantastic. Although side effects apparently include weird dreams of superheroes.

"Not that there are many moments that you don't have the strength to handle for yourself." He answers when their lips break from a comfortable kiss.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-20 03:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lilorphanmaggie.livejournal.com
"Perhaps, but you're the one that gave me that strength." Her hand moves over the line of his face, thumb moving over his chin, stroking tenderly as she looks him over.

"Such a handsome man, my husband. So strong and loving." Her teacher, her husband, oh, she only has eyes for him and when she is with him the whole world falls away. Margaret climbs up on to him and lays down on him, straddling him and covering him like a great big Maggie blanket.

"Happy Yule, love of my life."

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-20 05:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] childhood-vader.livejournal.com
She probably knows that her man, for as long as she's shared a bed with him, is an early riser in more ways than one. She knows that. It's just that this early in the morning maybe she doesn't remember or process it fully. Depending on how exactly this blanket!Maggie is positioned, she might be getting a poke of reminder from his flesh and metal member.

And she might very well not, if she's straddling around his abdomen. Either way, he's not obtrusively rubbing up against her or anything. He's happy to share in her warmth and company.

"Happy Yule to you."

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-20 05:34 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lilorphanmaggie.livejournal.com
Oh, Margaret remembers, boy does she ever. She loves his first hardon of the day, it's usually so impossibly hard and wonderful, she enjoys taking advantage of him when they are still warm from sleep. Her hips press down against his and she idly rubs up against all that flesh and metal.

One of her favorite parts of him.

A few soft kisses to his mouth and she pulls back. "I have to go to the wash room, when I get back I will take full advantage of my Yule present." Meaning, of course, his prick. Grinning, she will start to move off of him so she can pee, she has to pee really bad actually.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-20 05:54 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] childhood-vader.livejournal.com
"I have no plans to go anywhere."

He murmurs, offering a playful swat at her ass as she pulls away from him. The view almost makes up for the fact that she's traveling away from him, but he consoles himself with the knowledge that she'll be back.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-20 05:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lilorphanmaggie.livejournal.com
Margaret is a big fan of his hands on her ass, a big fan of those little swats he gives her. When his hand meets her ass she jumps and laughs, reaching behind to swat at his hand. She always does that, always misses, but its part of her act. If she really hated it, she wouldn't miss, wouldn't laugh either.

She uses the facilities and washes up, giving her mouth a good rinse with mouthwash before returning to the bed. The views of her coming and going are nice, really, really nice. She might not always do those early morning runs but she keeps up her training diligently, he taught her that. "Show me my present..."

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-20 06:55 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] childhood-vader.livejournal.com
"You want a present already?"

Justin is more of a gifts in the evening than a gifts in the morning type guy, which makes sense, given his personality. Though he knows what she means by 'her present' he actually does have a gift stashed for her under a stack of his pillows.

He offers her a small wooden box, it is intricately carved, by him of all people (he has carved enough rods and staffs in his day to be proficient in the skill). She may or may not have seen him working on it in the cellar. He didn't try to hide it from her when he was making it, but he didn't identify it as something for her either. Anyway, the box is smooth and finished with a translucent lacquer. There are carvings of ancient symbols of love and companionship on the box. The inside of the box is lined with red velvet.

It's a nice box, but that isn't the important part of it. What is on the inside is the more important, though perhaps less personal, part of the gift. She will find a knife on the inside. It is very sharp and very light. The handle is made from a yellow gem. As if someone had to take a stone the size of a fist; then cut it down and polished it to form the handle of the blade.

As she looks over everything Justin supplies the following information, "the handle is natural citrine." Natural citrine being very rare and expensive. Some cultures believe the stone brings wealth, luck, protection and healing.
Edited Date: 2014-01-20 06:57 pm (UTC)

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-20 07:05 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lilorphanmaggie.livejournal.com
She meant his cock, that's what she was wanting, really wanting actually but then again she always does.

Margaret is about to clarify when he reaches under his pillow for something. Climbing up into the bed she kneels on it and lifts her eyebrows. "I was hoping for your cock," she says as she takes the box, "but this will do," and she gives him a wink. That's the end of the fooling, she turns rather serious as she holds the box and runs her fingers over it. It's beautiful, and she can tell that it's hand made, there is a sort of roughness to it that means it's homemade which she loves, which she cherishes most of all.

Her eyes get a little misty and she blinks them quickly as she opens the box. "Oh, Justin..." The knife sort of blows her away, and she carefully pulls it from the box and holds it the flat of her hand - perfectly balanced, beautiful.

"These are beautiful!" She tucks the knife in the box and leans over to kiss him, hard.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-20 07:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] childhood-vader.livejournal.com
She can still have it - his cock. He still plans to give it to her as a matter of fact. Just a few moments after she was expecting it. Margaret, now that she's his wife and she wants for nothing, has become more and more difficult to gift for.

That said, a warden can never have enough knives.

Between touches of their lips together her prompts her. "I thought you might have a few sips before receiving your other 'gift'." A knife to pierce her lover's skin. Another taste of his blood.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-20 07:29 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lilorphanmaggie.livejournal.com
He'll have to wait for his other gifts, she has wrapped them and put them under the tree for him. She didn't know they were going to do an early gift exchange, but her husband has always been the planner, as demonstrated here.

She would just be happy with his cock for an early morning gifting but the box is beautiful, and will become one of her closely guarded treasurers. Speaking of gifts... When he mentions his second gift she goes still, that inhumanly still that The Red Court gets. It actually takes her a moment or two for her eyes to get black though, something she is pretty proud of.

"Yes," she whispers breathlessly. The next moves are automatic, she straddles his lap and reaches for the knife in the box. "You will feed me from your palm, master?" That's usually how they do it, so it drips down into her mouth and her saliva doesn't touch him. That would be a bad Yule for Justin if she dosed him.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-20 08:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] childhood-vader.livejournal.com
"Yes."

It's almost routine at this point. Every three or four months, Margaret gets a taste of his blood. It seems to clear her a bit. Refresh her. Make her act less erratically. Curbs the need. And it's so routine that he almost forgets how dangerous the situation is, until he looks into those eyes that are so dark it doesn't seem as if the light can reach them.

His poor wife. How his heart aches for her. He holds up his palm, and readies a death curse on his mind... if the situation should somehow get out of hand ... he has their son to think of. Routine as letting her take his blood has become.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-20 08:25 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lilorphanmaggie.livejournal.com
It is odd how used to this feeding she has become, even the demon seems used to it. Seems to know that this is the time to behave, it's not ever happy to be submission but a taste is better than starving. They could deny it even a taste and it would have to try and make due with watery animal blood which is literally the worse.

The blade is steady in her hand a she carefully reopens the thin scar on his palm. It's the part of him she always drinks from, except for that time she got to feast from his collar, and his tongue, oh that was nice, so nice. The demon loves that memory, loves to replay it for her when the hunger is really bad, an attempt to test her will even more.

Opening up the skin she then sets the blade aside and tips his hand, using both hands to hold it, as if she was drinking from a holy chalice. It's divine, the taste of him, the heat and the scent of his life is so perfect, so strong and arousing. Her hips rock against his as she laps at the falling blood, careful not to get her saliva on him.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-21 01:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] childhood-vader.livejournal.com
He likes the rocking of her hips, but he's too busy making sure she's behaving within the range of expectations for him to really enjoy it. Margaret is his wife and he loves her with all of his heart, but she is dangerous at times. Especially when there is blood around.

It won't be until he sees her eyes again, her real eyes, until he relaxes ...

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-21 01:55 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lilorphanmaggie.livejournal.com
She doesn't drink for that long, she doesn't want him light headed, too weak to enjoy Yule with their child. That's what she has in the back of her mind as she laps at the air with an inhuman thirst. There are perks to having a demon inside of her, she knows, she just knows when enough is enough, and when that approaches she tips his hand away from her and as her tongue flicks across her gore covered mouth she picks up one of her night shirts and presses it to his palm.

Her fingers curl around his fingers so he can hold the fabric tight against his wound. "That's enough, that's good, that's enough, Master." Her chest rises and falls quickly, eyes flicking around as everything becomes sharp and loud, coming at her from everywhere.

"Thank you, Master."

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-21 02:08 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] childhood-vader.livejournal.com
"You're welcome." He says very softly, but he knows that she can hear him.

Justin is not aware that her senses are coming painfully into a clarity that he could never appreciate himself, but he knows something goes on after she feeds. He sees her breathing quicken. Her eyes dart around the room. He doesn't want to startle or upset her while she's in this state. His fingers tighten around the cloth of her shirt and her hand if she hasn't pulled away yet.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-21 02:13 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lilorphanmaggie.livejournal.com
Everything is fine. The sweep of the room, the glance to the shadows, everything is fine. She can even hear faint noises coming from the baby's room, just the nanny talking to junior. A sigh. She feels so good, so amazing, like she could walk upon air, and yet, she feels relaxed, sated, like a shot of heroin.

Looking back at the love of her life is a little hard though. When she looks at him she sees the wrinkles, the gray, and while they are there normally, she usually passes them over - but all she can think in this state is how old and fragile he is. How much she doesn't want that to be the case. He could live forever. How lovely he would be as her King, she would be his Queen, they could have each other forever.

Closing her eyes she brings his wounded hand to her lips and she kisses across his knuckles. She would be completely lost without him, what would happen to her if he were to leave?

(no subject)

Date: 2014-01-21 09:32 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] childhood-vader.livejournal.com
If he knew Margaret was looking at him and seeing wrinkles and grey hairs. Seeing weakness. Seeing age. He would feel angry, sad and ashamed. Her husband is a proud man. Too proud, maybe. And a century older than his pretty young wife.

That doesn't mean he wants to be a vampire king, but ... it would hurt him to the very core if she told him that when she looked at him - she saw frailty.

"Do you feel any better?" He's looking in her eyes again. Justin never truly let's his guard back down until her eyes look human again.

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I'm cool with it, bb.

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lilorphanmaggie: (Default)
Margaret Angelica Mendoza-Rodriguez-Carpenter-Dres

February 2018

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