The Saints Have Fallen

The Saints Have Fallen

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Apr 30, 2025
After being stripped of his title as a God and turned into a demon in the presence of his brother, Yuri was banished to earth to live amongst the humans whom he hates. 200 years later, a young girl shows up at his doorstep holding both his life and death in her hands whilst not having any idea of the power in which she possesses. __________________________________________ An exiled God, seeking revenge on the Gods. A human girl, devoted to the Gods. And their "accidental" marriage. Put Adrian Vandermir of 'Fatal Alliances' and Vitaly Rostov of 'Damned' together, with a dash of unearthliness and what do you get? Excerpt. The scent of smoke tickled through my nostrils. I coughed and twisted, feeling cold and damp. My heavy eyelids peeled itself open tiredly. My heart stopped at the image before me. The snow haired man sat before me, observing me in my sleep, while smoking a pipe nonchalantly. A flush of blushed panic shocked through my body. "You creep!" I shrieked, threw a pillow at him, and missed in reflex. I was mortified. Did he really sit there watching me sleep while my clothing thinned upon my body due to the rain? What a perv. Unbothered, he exhaled a cloud of smoke. "What is a perv and why are you screaming?" I blinked. How did he...? "You are quite an ugly creature, I must admit." He continued. Did he just call me ugly? My eye twitched. The nerve of this guy. "Oh, says the one who's trying to observe and take advantage of the poor helplessly soaked sleeping lady on your sofa." He frowned in confusion, "I do not see any lady, only a filthy little rug rat perched with drool from her mouth staining my sofa." He stood and turned, "However, if it makes you feel any better, you do not have much for me to observe in order to 'take advantage' of." ...
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My palm cracked against his cheek before I even realised I'd raised it. He froze, then smiled-slow, cruel, like he saw something ugly inside me I tried so hard to hide. And then his hand shot up, fingers sliding into my hair.... enough to make me meet his eyes. Enough to remind me how easily he could close the distance between anger and something darker. "You think this makes you brave?" "No," I said. "It makes me done being scared." "Do that again," his breath touch my cheek, "and I'll make sure you never forget how I'll ruin you." I laughed breathlessly. "You already did. You've been ruining me since the day I stepped into this place." He smirked. "If that's what you call ruined, Sunshine, you haven't seen anything yet." "Obsessed. Psychotic. You can't stand not being in control, can you?" He leaned in, voice cutting. "Control? No. I just hate losing. And I hate you more than anyone I've ever met." "Leave me alone... demon," I managed, "stay out of my life." hating the tremor in my tone. He stared at me. "Demons never let go of their prey." his thumb brushes on my lower lip. "Until you do what I say." He stepped back and took off his jacket and held the jacket out between us. "You want me to leave you alone?" He said slowly like a challenge disguised as mercy. I crossed my arms. "What are you doing?" "Making it official." "Official?" He stepped closer, so close I could feel the faint heat still clinging to the leather. "You'll wear this," his grey eyes locked on mine. "You'll wear my jacket. Every time you feel it, every time someone looks at you, you'll remember who made you take it. You'll remember me and I'll stay away." For a heartbeat, I stared at him, hated him for how much I understood his madness. How he twists me, questioning my own sanity, using every crack in me as a weapon. Would Elara choose peace over him? Tale of vengeance, obsession and defiance. Dark academia aesthetic. Morally heroes, slow-burning romance. Enemies-to-lovers.

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