Take You To Hell

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In the depths of her realm, Raven, now reigned as the Queen. She had immersed herself in the task of rebuilding the kingdom she had claimed, but that had not been easy. The demonic inhabitants of her realm posed a constant challenge, their volatile nature requiring her constant vigilance to keep them in check. It was a never-ending battle. Her days were spent studying the arcane arts, delving deep into ancient tomes, and unraveling the secrets of her realm. The pursuit of knowledge was her refuge, a sanctuary where she could find solace amidst the chaos.

Amidst the grim and somber backdrop of her existence, Raven's sarcastic wit remained a constant companion. People's antics and feeble attempts at humor often garnered a dry and biting remark from her. Her seemingly emotionless facade served as a shield, allowing her to navigate the trials of her realm without fully revealing the turmoil within. When confronted with the frivolity of others, she would offer a quip or a piercing observation, a reminder of the depths of her intellect and the sharpness of her tongue. Though she rarely showcased her emotions openly, her sarcasm became a way to assert her presence and assert her dominance in a realm teetering between darkness and order.

"Ah, yes," Raven would mutter, her voice laced with a touch of disdain. "Because nothing says, 'I'm in charge' like a sarcastic remark in the face of utter foolishness."

Right now, she was seated upon her dark and foreboding throne. Raven's thoughts wandered, burdened by the weight of her choices and the sacrifices she had made. In the depths of her introspection, her mind drifted to her beloveds, Damian, and William, who remained on Earth while she bore the mantle of her realm. She couldn't help but feel a sense of unworthiness, a gnawing belief that she was undeserving of their angelic presence in her life. Her heart ached with a bittersweet longing, a conflicted mix of love and self-doubt.

"I know that they wrong for me," she whispered quietly, her voice tinged with a touch of melancholy. "That they are gonna wish we never met on the day I leave."

The warmth of their love, the light they brought into her darkness, was both a source of solace and a reminder of her own flaws. In their presence, she felt the weight of her own inadequacies, her tendency to bring destruction to all she touched. It wasn't their fault, she acknowledged. It was her burden to bear. "And it's not your fault I ruin everything," Raven murmured, her voice barely a whisper. "And it's not your fault I can't be what you need. Baby, angels like you can't fly down hell with me."

The dichotomy between their angelic natures and her own darkness gnawed at her soul. She couldn't escape the nagging feeling that she would only bring them pain, that her own demons would taint their lives. Yet, her love for them remained unwavering, an unyielding force amidst her doubts. "I'm everything they said I would be," she mused, her voice laced with resignation. "A creature of darkness, a bringer of despair. How could I expect angels like you to withstand the depths of my own abyss?"

And so, Raven sat upon her throne, caught between the love she held for Damian and William and the belief that they deserved better than her. It was a struggle she faced within the recesses of her troubled soul, a battle she fought in silence. But even as she contemplated her worthiness, a flicker of determination ignited within her. She would continue to fulfill her duties, to protect her realm, and to navigate the treacherous path of her own existence. For in the end, her love for them, tainted as it may be, was a flame that refused to be extinguished.

With a heavy heart and an unwavering resolve, Raven vowed to find a balance between her own darkness and the light she held dear. For her beloveds deserved more than she believed she could give, and yet, their presence in her life was a testament to the transformative power of love. In the depths of her introspection, Raven sought solace in the knowledge that even amidst her flaws, her beloveds remained steadfast. And perhaps, just perhaps, they were the wings that would allow her to soar beyond the confines of her own self-doubt.

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