#i couldnt look at this for too long i wanted to stop using dull colors so i challenged myself to go crazy and uhhh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bloodycassian · 3 years

Text

Hellish part 3 - reader x cassian -

reader reports back to the Queens that she has failed her task of killing Rhysand.

"Stop acting like such a child." Amren scolded. Cassian's death glare towards her was enough to make Rhys tense. "Amren, dont you have a book to read?" Rhys asked. She smiled in a way that showed too many teeth, and would have sent a chill down the high lord's spine if he wasn't so focused on keeping everyone safe. Before she could start a fight, she left. Carrying her wine glass laced with blood with her. Cassian relaxed, finally. "I know you're not likely to forgive me for this. But I sent Azriel to watch over her on the journey back." And Cass' relaxation was gone. His rage lashed out at Rhys. "What the fuck do you mean 'watch over her'? Shes my mate." His words practically rattled the dishes on the table. The townhome seemed too cramped, like Cass' body was too tight, too hot. "And you'll kill yourself if you follow her back to the Queens." Rhys said simply, pity there in his eyes. He knew his brother well enough to know that logic would be how to win over this fight. He wondered if that mating bond ran so deep that it would counteract Cassian's strategist mind, though. Cassian snarled, but did not protest. He knew he would in fact give himself over to the Queens if it meant you being safe. He'd do anything to be by your side. He'd barely met you and he thought to sacrifice himself. He couldn't wrap his head around the insanity of it. And on top of it all, you were out to kill his brother. How cruel could the cauldron be? "Cassian, I need you here. There's powers in play that want to see us fall." Rhys spoke gently to his brother. He squeezed Cassians shoulder and finally brought that tense stare to a stop. His jaw clenched, and Rhys saw the war roiling inside him. The urge to protect, to save, to keep you at his side was eating him alive. "I'll be in the training ring." Cassian gritted out before leaving. + Your journey back to your masters was long and full of harsh sun that beat down on your skin. After two months of adjusting to Prythian's cooler weather, the abrupt change back to heat felt suffocating. Or maybe the hot feeling inside you was from the fact you'd not only failed your mission, but your mate had been one to help defend your target. You had tried to shove the thought of the male away your entire ride, but it was always there. That tantalizing golden light he radiated in the back of your mind. "Kill the high lord and as many others as you can." The spell rang through your mind as a way of distraction. And shame. The dread that filled you each hour as you pressed closer was not a welcome distraction from the heat that the bond seared through you. You didn't know the consequences of coming back unsuccessful, but you hoped to the Mother that they would give you another chance. That they were merciful because of the information you brought back. The Queens were not known for their mercy, though. Especially the Crone, queen of them all. The one that held your bargain spell in her bony fingers. The memory of the old crone cursing you made you sweat in a different way than the heat or the bond did. Nerves bundled deep inside you tingled more and more as you grew closer to the sandstone castle they resided in. The ride took a day just to get past their inner defenses. No guard dared approach you, marked with the black banner of the Queens court. Your horse was struggling by the end of the journey, refusing to gallop any longer. The shadows around you darkened when you dismounted. The sun was beginning to set along the desert and clay hills in the distance. Your heart did not sing of happiness at this reunion. The bond in the back of your mind you tried so hard to ignore seemed to flare with your stress. + The wrinkled face of the old crone reminded you of the old man that had traded you for a few gold marks when you were young. The rest of the queens stood by anxiously, watching. Waiting to see what the punishment would be. The spell compelled you to remain utterly helpless against the guards that shoved you to the floor before her. She tisked in disapproval. "Bring the cauldron, and let us unmake this one. Perhaps we will see what it gives us in return for this sacrifice." Her shrewd voice called. The other queens looked to each other with excitement, their shiny hair bouncing as they hurried to summon guards with the cauldron. You whimpered at the crushing feeling around you. Impending doom being delivered straight to you. She approached the guards that pointed their spears and swords at you. "The spell acted as a bond, hold her down as soon as she touches the water." she instructed as you were lowered to the Cauldron's edge by three guards. Your mind screamed at you to fight, to tear and thrash and kill the ones that were ready to drown you in the depths of the damned cauldron. Even if your hands weren't bound, you couldnt fight back. The terror settled deep and full in the pit of your stomach. But the spell, the bond that insured your protection against the Queens now served as a leash keeping you from fighting back against them. "A life for a life. Let this death motivate the next contender to kill Rhysand of the Night Court." she made a motion with her hands and turned, going back to the other queens. The guards lowered you, and just as she promised, the magic snapped and you began fighting for your life. They struggled to contain you, but the blade through your thigh speared you down, forcing your legs into the water. Cold like you'd never experienced seeped into your bones through the wound. Your blood did not marr the dark water, it only swallowed the lifeblood that surged from you. You grew faint, and the water reached your knees. You knew it was going to be the end of you. The water swirled and pulled, tugging you deeper. Then, a flash of darkness erupted from you. You though they'd pushed you under. But it was an explosion of shadows that had blinded the entire room. You were ripped from the icy water, something cool grasping you under your arms. Then, swirling darkness took you, panting from behind you indicated you were not alone when you landed in the dark forest. + Cassian's wings ached for the feeling of air beneath him. He guarded Rhys at the meeting with Kier though, keeping a straight face even as he sensed the panic from you. His mind raced with the possiblities of what had happened. If you were safe, if you were even alive. Surely you were alive with the thrills going through the bond. Electrifying, and utterly terrifying. Rhys then snapped, ending the terse conversation with Kier abruptly. "We must be leaving now. We will continue this later." He gave Kier a wave of his hand and began winnowing. "Stay with me, dont panic." Rhys spoke into Cassians mind. His heart dropped to the floor, face leeched of color at the words. With the first glimpse of the vision the high lord sent Cassian, he began roaring with rage. As soon as they winnowed a few feet from Azriel, he was ordering both his brothers to winnow you again, to Madja. His speaking was dull, but you could feel it in every part of your being. The low rumble of that voice that spoke to your soul. A small smile spread across your face. "Hey Cass-" You choked, trying to make yourself sound strong. For his sake. You knew he could feel it though, feel that iciness that burned your legs. You shook, unable to move yourself. The cold felt like it was creeping up your entire body. He pulled that bond in his mind to him, close. As if he was wrapping you around his mind for warmth. Then you saw all the beauty there. The beauty that the spell had refused to let you see. And the urge to kill the high lord was no longer present. It was like a weight lifted from you. You let the tears spill over, grateful that in your last moments you were able to experience this kind of relief. "No." Cassian growled, yanking on that bond again as you felt darkness creeping in on you like a fog. "You are not dying." Rhys' darkness pulled all of you into the healer's apothecary in the center of Velaris along the coastline. The dark waves outside offered no comfort to any of them. Especially Rhys as he watched his brother lose himself over you. "Azriel, keep an eye on them." Rhys ordered, noting the way his shadow covered brother seemed to be more pale than usual. The plain exhaustion on his face from winnowing so far was hard to look at. Cassian shushed and cradled you, not daring to look at your leg or the black splotches that dotted your hands from your fight. He nodded a quick thank you to Azriel when their eyes met. Azriel couldn't spare the energy back, and instead propped himself on a rigid couch in against the far wall. Cassian gently laid you down on the exam table, and waited for his brother to return. + "We can let her die, or we can heal her with the Cauldron's poison still there. We dont know what it will do, but it has infected too far to be reversible." Madja concluded with a heavy sigh. Rhys cursed under his breath. Cassian's moan of terror wracked his brother's hearts. Madja continued stroking up and down your body with expertise. Cassian pulled at his hair. He wanted you to make the choice. He wanted you here to be able to tell him how the hell this all happened. He needed you, he needed to know everything about you. The tethering force he felt pulling back slightly seemed to tug, and he laughed hysterically. "The entry wound will heal, but the sickness may kill her eventually." Madja's glowing palms were the only light in the room. "Fix it. Heal her. Now." Cassian said the words in a low growl. Azriel stared at him, astonished even in his state. "Cass, if she dies-" Rhys began, concern for his brother's fallout after the potential death. "She wont." the icy glare he gave Rhys made him shut his mouth. He hated seeing his brother so ruined over someone he just met. His mate. He tried to remind himself it wasn't just some female. It was his Feyre. He nodded to Madja, giving her the approval. "Fix her Madja." The high lord's words were final. + It burned. Your entire body ached and burned and at the same time felt totally cool. The cold chill was eating you alive. You tried to scream, tried to push it away. Tried to run from what consumed you. But it only crept further and further up, until it encapsulated you completely. Your back ached more than anything. You begged for the end of it. for anything to kill you. You didnt care if it was the Queens or the high lord you were sent to kill. Death would be the only relief from this kind of pain. "The curse...mixed with Madja's healing created.... it made you... new." Cassian said tentatively. He had practiced it so much, he just didnt know how to tell you when you actually woke. The long nights of rippling pain shared with you suddenly became worth it to him. You tried to push yourself up, but a heavy weight held you down. "Easy..." He said, a small grim smile gracing his lips. His eyes looked bruised, and swollen. the whites around his eyes were completely red, and his hair was a mess. The room was quiet, and cool. The house was completely open to the elements you realised, and it must have been freezing from the cold wind breezing in. He wore a coat over his tunic and hid his hands inside his pockets. His breath clouded in front of him. "What happened?" You demanded, searching for the bond he clutched so tightly to himself. "Do you want to see?" He held a hand out to you for support and stabilization. It felt as if you were being pulled, dragged down by something. He pulled the dark wooden framed mirror from the corner and adjusted it slowly, showing you what lay behind you. You felt your mind leave your body, dizziness overcame you. He caught you before you could fall to your knees before the mirror. He avoided the things.... the gargantuan counterweight on your back. The wings that pulled you down. The dark inky feathers that would have killed you if you were a part of Dawn court still. They shimmered under the faelight like raven's wings. Purple and blue mixing in a perfect darkness, even darker than the Illyrian's. "Madja thinks it's the curse... mixed with healing. She thinks the cauldron intended to turn you into a beast cursed to follow someone forever in the form of a bird. Like Vassa." The words he spoke were just a faint hum after that. Your mind seemed to float further and further from you the more you stared to the mirror. He helped you up, but you could not be led away from the mirror. You stared and stared at the black wings that your body strained to hold up. "I can help, if you'd like..." He said softly, knocking you out of your stupor. "If you want to learn, I mean." He nodded to the wings and took a breath, trying to ignore the oily scent the new wings perfumed the air with. It was intoxicating. You turned slowly, going back to the bed. "Leave me." You muttered, trying to situate yourself comfortably on the pillowy softness. Cassian's heart sunk. "Let me know if you need anything." He said softly, staring at your unresponsive body for far too long before exiting. You cried. You let the sobs wrack your body the entire night, not caring how stained the pillows became with the salty tears. You cried until your body had nothing left to give, and at last your mind lulled you into a deep sleep. + Cassian's head ached with the strain of trying to comfort the bond. He was astonished at how you'd kept your shields up even from him throughout the healing. He guessed that the training you possessed was the reason the Queens had made you the perfect assassin for Rhys. "She'll be okay. She can train with the Illy-" Azriel stopped himself mid sentence when he felt the fury rippling from Cassian. He hated the territorial mood swings he was having, but with the situation at hand he figured it was warranted. Rhys tapped his fingers on the long table, and picked up a small pawn in the other hand. "Why would they make such a direct attack? And without a bargain? Why use a spell?" He let his questions flow out. It did not soothe Cassian to hear his mate being talked about like just some assassin. "She wont know. She was under the spell the entire time. I can feel her more now, maybe I can-" Rhys interrupted his brother "Cassian I dont want you anywhere near her more than you have to. We dont know what she's capable of now." Cassian stood so quickly his chair fell, clattering against the stone floor. Azriel tensed, ready to break his brothers up from a fight. "She is my mate, Rhys. if I die by her hands then so be it." His voice was low, and dangerous. Azriel's shadows circled around both of them. Rhys' tired eyes did not leave Cassians. The challenge of two males ready to defend what they believed in. "Dare to order me and see what happens." Cassian said with a snarl, then took a plate of rolls and left the two Illyians. Azriel sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. His shadows dissipated, following the cracks in the stone house. He knew how bad the fight could have gotten and was relieved the building was still standing. Centuries of disagreements and he'd seen the two level a battlefield for less. He only intervened twice in all of those years. He didn't like to remember either occurrence. "You will keep watch over them?" "I already am." Azriel grumbled, making his way to his room. + The smell of warm buttered rolls was a welcome scent to wake up to. You didn't miss the lingering scent of him there too. You could hardly crack your eyes open, the swelling from the night before was getting better though. You reached back and touched the wings that had kept you burningly warm all night. The sensation was... incredibly sensitive. And when you pulled your hand away, it left your fingertips coated in oil. "It'll go away after a few months." His voice startled you, but you were too tired to care much about him seeing you in such a messy state. He was supposed to love no matter what, right? That's what a mate was meant to be? Your mate. Mate. You body ached with the longing of needing him close by. "You should eat." He said around a mouthful of food. "Are you always so pushy?" Your voice was rough, raw from the night of sobbing. He smiled, and brought over the plate he was picking grapes from. "Only when necessary." He laid the plate on your lap and nodded to the rolls on your side table. "And drink, too." He sauntered back over to his seat at the other side of the room, a healthy distance apart. You followed his orders though, picking little bites at the fruit and easily having three rolls. Something eased inside you, like a fracture becoming whole again. "How do you manage... with those? How-" You took a sip from your water and tried not to look at him. "How do you just... deal with these?" You unconsciously flared the wings when you thought of them. It was a strange feeling, like flexing a sore muscle. "You'll learn eventually. It will take time to get used to it." He eyed you wearily, trying not to show his confusion. You felt it anyway. "These are...upsetting." You admitted, "They are just like my fathers. Before he sold me for food for my mother. He was convinced she was carrying a winged male." You shook your head at the memory of the wrinkled man that had bought you. He included some spoiled corn in the deal. Your father handed you over without another glance back. Your mother didnt have much of a say. "He sounds like a conflicted male." You glared at him, wishing you had the strength to throw one of the rolls at him. He held his hands up at the stare, defending himself. "Not the selling you part, but doing anything for your mother... I understand that, now." He said slowly, testing the waters. "I have no family. I ally with no one. Working with the Queens was a risk I was willing to take, they didn't mention the part about killing a high lord." You picked at the blanket folded over your lap. The room was much colder than you remembered it being before. He considered the words, and stayed silent. Waiting for you to say more. "When will he kill me?" You asked plainly, trying to not show your nerves.His face blanched. The bond came roaring to the forefront of your mind, burning with anger and guilt. "No one will lay a hand on you. By my life I swear it." He knelt on the floor by your bed and looked you in the eye. The honesty there, the full integrity of his being was flowing from him. You didn't know what exactly made you want to trust him, but it was irresistible. You nodded and took his hand, letting that connection flow through touch. You felt alight with hope soaring. Like a drug, he called to you. His eyes seemed to reflect the same back. The shame burned further until - a spark. An idea that you could almost feel out. "We can hunt him, together. Your father, if that's what you want. Then we can kill the Wueens. I will go with you." "You mean you'd die with me?" You laughed, the dark humor not scaring him a bit. The finality of the words stung deep in your gut when he didn't flinch. He dared not confirm how many times over he would, in fact, die for you. "They call me the lord of bloodshed. We might have a fighting chance once you figure out those wings." He winked, and you smiled for the first time in a long while.

#hellish #reader x cassian #acotar #acotar fic

46 notes · View notes

underthestarlitsky · 3 years

Note

I would love to hear your thoughts on YJS3

sure! fair warning, though, I'm a ranty person by nature so this might end up being a bit long. sorry in advance ♡

anyway! things I liked:

the humor: s3 was pretty funny lmao, theres that whole collection of outta pocket scenes from throughout the season that I find hilarious each time + the humor was a little more dirty which is nice bc the audience has also grown up from the kids they might've been when they watched it on CN

dickbabs!: I'm not a huge fan of dickbabs, I prefer dickkory (no hate to dickbabs stans btw I just vibe more with dickkory) but this dynamic between the two of them was so sweet and well-balanced I couldnt help but squeal everytime they were on-screen

Clark and Conner getting along: them calling each other brothers was so CUTE I canttt

FORAGER: an absolute legend 10/10 freaking love him

That Episode With The Hallucination: mmmmmmm I miss wally. SO MUCH. and the og 6 I was Super Mad about the first timeskip so it was nice to see them all together again🥰

yeah that's about it for things I liked lmao. now time for the Much Longer list of Things I Hated:

HALO: young justice the bar was so fucking low how are you still successfully doing the limbo what the fuck. you take a muslim immigrant in what is VERY CLEARLY a hijab and 1. infantilize her to an exceptionally uncomfortable degree (I KNOW SHE WAS THE MOTHERBOX, I DONT CARE) to the point where she resembles a five-year-old with every sentence she speaks or action she takes 2. you made a visibly muslim girl claim that she's actually no longer muslim, she's just wearing the hijab as some kind of security blanket???? I'm sorry??? what the fuck were you aiming for here exactly 3. why did you have to name her violet harper. what. 4. really?? the immediate romance with brion? What the shit was up with that...you make her Muslim in some aspects like victor not seeing her hair when she brushes it but her LITERALLY making out with brion like I'm sorry what the fuck are you doing??? you had one muslim character and you fucked up so bad holy shit...like...it could've been simple as hell, man, but no...Big Yikes.

M'gann: I've said this before but I really feel like once they introduced artemis m'gann immediately became a side character whose only job is to be villainised again and again even though it doesn't really vibe with her character. Secret teams?? Lying to Conner??? This isn't s3 but that whole thing with their breakup in s2...what the shit are they doing to M'gann, man. I loved her so much in s1, she's literally trying her best after having gone through so much and it's never fully explored...like we get half explanations every season but we're never shown half the shit that we were given for artemis. And by making her the Uncool Girlfriend at points it just looks like they're trying make her easy to hate like what the fuck. no. stop it

The Plot: too overcomplicated, too many characters. It's only season three, why are you introducing Apokolips already. Why are there so many characters?? what's with all the subplots yall were switching location cards every five minutes. And it's so convoluted...like...what was going on with Beast Boy and the monkey-god-doom-patrol-exposition stuff? I can't even remember if there were two granny goodnesses or just the one. All of those meta kids left over from the last season are a cute cast but like...I was so bored??? we know you can do well-written self-contained storylines a la s1, so hop to it, yeah?

THE ANIMATION: ok ok ok so. season 1 and two (one especially) had a very distinct feeling to them and that feeling was very late-2000s Cartoon Network Action Show - the base model for the males and females is the same (like Ben 10 Alien Force) the colors were not dynamic (stayed the same no matter the lighting, lots of cel shading, and generally were realistically colored in the sense that suspension of disbelief was not entirely necessary) CHEEKBONES, gritty textures and purple skies (Batman the Brave and the Bold). overall theres a certain Tone to the earlier seasons that spoke a lot to the animation capabilities of the studios at the time, as well as the general feel of the show. however, season three was a MAJOR downgrade in terms of animation. they made it both simpler and more complicated - they started using their DCAMU animation style which while it does give muscles to the women, adds too many unneeded shadows and a strange stiffness and dullness to every character. There are now extra lines and uncessesary shadows on the face of every character, and their eyes and facial features are almost identical. There's also less highlights, and the hairstyles are way too overcomplicated now to be appealing (see mgann and dick) - the hair is unspeakably dull and and the skin tones and hair colors are painful on the eyes. This isn't even taking into account the shitty backgrounds they've started using (AHEM AHEM ARTEMIS'S KITCHEN) because while the earlier seasons may have had unappealing, mostly empty settings, the characters still fit in to the scene, unlike now.

the lack of sisterhood????: apparently, only artemis goes to see zatanna for her Dr. Fate appointments. Apparently, M'gann barely talks to Artemis after the very tragic apparent death of Wally. the two of them, dare I say even the THREE of them, should be close as hell considering they spent their early years super-heroing together on a team full of boys. M'gann LITERALLY called Artemis her sister in the SAME EPISODE she was introduced, and neither of them had any real girlfriends other than each other at this point. M'gann who fell apart so hard Artemis died in her head that she almost killed them all in her grief. Like. You're telling me, you're SHOWING me that these two aren't each other's support system? Where is the sisterhood, bitch????

Lastly: the costume design. I understand that they're constrained by the need to make it simple enough to animate, but COME ON. if you're going to borrow Diana's DCAMU/JL: War costume, at least keep the metal silver. What the fuck is that green-gold. And Tigress? god DAMN that mask is ugly. Cassie looks like she robbed a goddamn supermarket discount clothing aisle for her outfit. Why is bart's outfit Like That it's so ugly it makes me want to cry. @ young justice costume designers Please Rethink Your Decisions

that's about all I can think of right now. it got REALLY negative whoops, but theres just so much I didn't like about this season :/ hopefully the next one will better ;-;

#thanks for the ask!#dc #dawn rants #young justice #mgann morzz #artemis crock #violet harper #opinions

30 notes · View notes

starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

HASO, “Field of Spears.”

Hope you guys enjoy the story for today :)

They sky above was dark with rain clouds, they were thick, streaking the sky with great black streaks like someone had wiped their hand over a permanent marker while it was still wet.

It was just the forefront of the storm, so the rain hadn’t yet come, and the wind had died down mostly. The clouds overhead moved quickly, and caused rolling waves of shadow over the land below.

That’s how she saw it at first, coming up over the rise as a wave of iridescent light spilled down from the clouds, and onto a glittering field of spears. There were hundreds of them, certainly thousands, and they stretched off in each direction as far as the eye could see. Some, those at the front, shone with the bright silver of highly polished metal, while those at the back were darkened with age and ash.

From this height, it looked like a forest, or a sea, and when the wind did decide to blow, the valley below her was whipped into great rippling waves of color, bright at the front with thousands of colorful moss-woven capes, and gradually fading black to a dull brown or even black with the other spears and their tarnished metal were the capes had been stained black with age.

The wind died, and the capes fell, like a bird’s feathers puffed up only to fall.

Sunny followed the track slowly, down into the valley, doing her best to keep her feet on the rocky terrain, and loose volcanic stone that made up the path before her. She wasn’t alone of course, a slow trickle of other Drev made their way into the valley their way slow and their heads bowed just like her.

She followed her way down onto the path and turned to where a the field of spears sat like a dense forest before her.

What looked to be the skulls of Drev, but were really just long disused helmets sat atop each one of the spears, all that remained of a thousand fallen warriors. Sunny followed her feet knowing where she was going even despite the years that had passed since she had visited this pace.

The Valley of the Fallen.

She stopped, in a spot that seemed indistinguishable from the rest, though somehow she knew it was right, pausing to approach two spears stood side by side, buried deep in the ground and welded upright by the glue of falling ash and rain.

She reached out, brushing the ash from one helmet and onto the ground before turning to bat as much of the ash as she could from the cloak. It had been many years and the fabric was well on its way to being saturated, so there wasn’t much left from the warm golden color that had once been, same with the other and the pearl white cloth that had once existed there.

She bowed her head kneeling on the ground before the last memory of her father.

In Drev belief, spirits were always recycled back into the wide spiritual world. Everything had a spirit, which meant thatcher father’s spirit was likely still around. Despite her upbringing, and despite everything that had happened to change the world of the Drev since she was a child, she still believed in the spiritual traditions and religion of her ancestors. That part of her had never been shaken.

So, she knelt to the ground slowly before the last memory of her father, raising her head to the helmet, which she could almost imagine as having him in it if she tried hard enough.

“I miss you.” She said softly, “Perhaps if you were here you would know how to help me, though perhaps that is only a wish of mine. Perhaps you would not understand like so many others, I like to think you would have tried though. “She sighed, “I am…. Alone. Perhaps I should have seen this coming, you don’t give the strength of your spear to someone who cannot lift it. But…. I suppose that is the way with humans. While they are like us in so many ways, there are things about them that are so alien. I Always assumed battle pairs fought together through the hard and the easy, but Humans see it a bit different. He says when you love something you have to let it go, and I don’t understand what that means. If you love something would you not want it to stay as close to you as possible…. Either way.” She turned her head to look down at the small round helmet and folded green cape that sat just below it, “As is the custom of our species…. I will never love again. I hope this is not seen as breaking the sanctity of this hollowed place for he is neither dead nor dying, but… A part of me has died….”

The wind picked up just then, and all around her a rainbow of colors rose up to flapped against the wind.

Lightning flashed over the mountains, and the field of spars glowed white for a single moment. She knew she should probably move, but didn't have the energy to care about the impending danger.

She hummed softly to herself as she stood, and turning her head to the sky, she Reached upwards, and Drove the but of the short metal spear into the soil with a loud crack. Lightning flashed overhead again.

WIth the spear firmly planted in the ground, she stepped back, and then softly reached up to pull the green cape over the tip. The fabric ripped on the point before catching and she slowly reached up placing the helmet on the point of the spear in a tradition that went back thousands of years. The right of the widow had been complete.

She stood staring at the Green cape as it billowed softly in the wind, illuminated by one more flash of lightning before she turned and made her way from that palace and the graveyard of memories.

It began to rain as she made her way from the last line of spears, and a loud crack of thunder illuminated the ground before her. It had likely caught one of the spears as it was so prone to doing during electrical storms, so she made her way hurriedly towards the rock overhang and a patch of tea moss, safe and away from the driving rain.

She sat herself on a ledge cross legged and with her blue cape wrapped tight around her shoulders as the wind blew little droplets towards her from the mouth of the overhang.

After a few moments a shape appeared out of the driving rain, and a figure broke through, shaking water from her pale peach carapace.

Sunny Stood slowly, and the other Drev froze, spear in hand.

“I didn't realize this outcrop was taken.” They stood against each other, “What clan are you from?”

“The wandering tribe.”

The other Drev stood straighter in surprise ‘The wandering tribe…. With the humans/”

Sunny nodded.

The other drev lowered her spear, “Might I share the dry with you/”

Sunny slowly seated herself and nodded motioning to the moss, “This land is not mine, so sit and be warm.”

And other Drev thankedher and took a seat.

She was a pretty little thing Sunny observed, still taller than her of course, by almost a foot, not particularly tall by Drev standards though however the color of her carapace was pleasant enough.

“You are here to observe the rights of the widowed?”

Sunny nodded, “I am.”

“I am sorry for your loss… I too am here for that. My battle partner died in glorious battle not more than a night ago. A spear to the throat, and a mound of corpses piled around him. She lifted her head in something that was almost like pride, “And yours?”

Sunny sighed.

“His past caught up with him.”

The other Drev tilted her head, “An old foe.”

She looked ou at the driving rain and the waterfalls that fell from above, “Yes, an old foe come back to haunt him.”

“I am sorry about that.”

They sat in silence for a moment before sunny lifted her head, “What is your name.”

The peach Drev Shifted to a more comfortable position, “Ralata and yours.”

“Chalan.” Sunny paused for a moment, “Perhaps it is none of my business but, how long were the two of you together.”

Ralata shrugged, “Couldn’t have been more than a year or two.”

Sunny nodded, ‘An how…. How do you cope with the idea of being alone for the rest of your life…. I know it is something that can be done, but it does seem daunting…. And lonely, I was just wondering if perhaps you could shed some light for me.”

Ralata raised her hands, ‘We are never alone when the spirits are with us. Life is fleeting when the universe is so old.”

Sunny couldnt help but be amused at the singularly Drev-like thought process it took to meet that conclusion, though she found it oddly comforting.

“I suppose you are right.”

“There is more to life than a battle partner, there is the sky and the ground and the wind, and there is always glorious combat. If we cannot find solace in these things then we have lost the battle that is life.”

Sunny nodded slowly.

“Take comfort in your own solitude.”

“Your words have been helpful, thank you for bringing my thoughts back to the truth.”

She and Ralata spoke long into the night as the rain fell, mostly about combat, and about the past and about the wars they had fought in. Sunny told tales of her adventures on strange worlds and the odd creatures that she had met. Ralata seemed fascinated by the stories, though she had no inclination to go and see them for herself.

Sunny found Ralata’s presence to be refreshing. In a way she reminded Sunny of Adam before his inner demons had taken away the spark, she was bubbly, happy, and talkative for a Drev, which was nice to fill the silence.

“Are you going to return home after this?” Ralata asked, “To your ship in the stars?”

Sunny shook her head, “Not at first, no, but eventually, yes.”

“What will you do in the meantime.”

Sunny paused not sure if she should tell this other drev what her plans were, having not entirely decided if she was going to do it or not. Once she verbalized it, it would be set in stone and she would have to do it. Not because this oher Drev new, she doubted she would ever see Ralata again, but because i she said it out loud she would feel obligated to do it.

After a long silence she finally spoke.

“I am making a pilgrimage to observe the Sacred ritual of Creation.”

Ralata pulled back in shock, “Creation, but that hasn’t been done for a thousand years, no one even knows if the monk on the mountain still exists to guide that ritual.”

“Well I suppose I will find out.”

Ralata sat in silence for a long moment staring at Sunny with wide, Orange eyes, “You are brave I suppose, no one knows how long that ritual could take.”

Sunny tilted her head back to look up at the stars, “It doesn't matter how long it takes, hopefully there will be a place for me when I return

194 notes · View notes

angelicmichael · 3 years

Text

Hoax - Prologue

Michael Langdon x Mallory

Summary: After failing to kill murder house Michael; Mallory must travel back in time to Sojourn era to try again. However; she finds to her horrific discovery that jumping through time repeatedly does not come without its consequences.

Words: 3.0k+

Warnings: Death, They both almost die (or do die) so.. a lot of describing wounds and nearly dying and that jazz ✌🏻, major wounds, lowkey a dark fic, Mallory discusses wanting to kill Michael and finds celebrates it??, angst, Mallory goes and sees his dead body, blood

A/N: this takes place right after Mallory drives away from Michael in the finale btw!! I literally didnt intend on making it this dark but it just happened LOL. I feel like most of the dark stuff is vague so.. it should still be chill. This is the first time ive written millory/character x character so please go easy on me!! I also tried to follow canon and stay accurate to details the best I could but knowing me I probably fucked up somehow LMAO but enjoy 💖💖 major plot twist is coming in the next chapter btw! Also Mallorys thots are italicized.

As soon as Mallory drove away; she knew nearly immeadietly that it was too good to be true. Things could never be this fucking easy.

She felt a pit in her stomach almost instantaneously once she was in the year 2015; Even though she couldnt decipher if the anxiety was a warning or something else.. She continued on with the dark destiny she was put on this earth to fulfull.. to kill the antichrist.

Even though she was fully aware of this; and had come to terms with what she had to do - she learned the hard way that it didnt seem to make things easier at all; like how she dreamed it would. Although, even now as she continued to speed away from the infamous 'murder house', the drop in her stomach seemed to only grow; along with her self doubt.

Was he really dead??

Did I really do it??

She knew that the answer to both of those questions should be yes; but the longer she remained driving in her car, getting farther and farther away from where the incident had occured.. she knew something was wrong.

Mallory suddenly jolted the steering wheel into a sharp left; continuing to turn it until she was doing U-Turn.. She couldnt help but to feel completly bewildered at her own actions - never doing something so impulsive, like going back to a crime scene let alone commit murder, in her life.

Although Mallory felt a bit disgusted with her recent previous actions; she couldnt help but imagine how disgusted she would feel with herself if she didnt pull this off. She mulled over the previous thoughts she had had about this moment and how dreamed it would feel; she thought she would feel joy, elated, and at peace but.. instead she still felt as if she was being suffocated by his presence.

He wasnt gone. Not yet.

She pressed her foot down on the gas, she knew she hadn't gone too far away from Michael's residence yet it seemed as if it was a millenia away. The task she was supposed to complete was starting to seem more and more increasingly impossible the less distance was put between them.

If running him over with a car three times wasnt enough to kill him, whose to say anything else would? What if Constance had brought him inside?? What if she was still out there with him?? Mourning?

Mallory wasnt a monster; she wasnt going to tear away a dying boy from his grandmother in his (hopefully) final moments, even if he was the antichrist.

She felt as if she was a total loss for what to do; which made her grow sick to her stomach because she knew that was a cruel form of denial. She was destined for this moment; every moment thus far had led up to this.. so why did she feel like such a failure? Her thoughts grew more foggy and distant with panic; her throat became entirely dry as she slowed the car down. The murder house now in view; the first thing she noticed.

The red bricks and stained glass windows shined brightly in the sun. The house, which Mallory was sure typically looked beautiful, radiated a terrifying aura.. even more so this time versus when she was here only a mere minutes ago. The expanse and exterior of the house was intimidating; it held a certain danger to it that she couldnt pinpoint her finger on where the source came from.. it certainly was not Michael. Mallory knew that even if he wasnt dead; his powers would fade out for atleast a few minutes from being so wounded.

Mallory stopped the car once she saw Michael's dead body; which still resided in the middle of the road. Her feelings of panic and nausea only amplified once she saw his body - her gaze lingering upon it. She approached him with no hesitation; she could nearly feel that he was gone.. his spirit momentarily missing.. somewhere else.

She studied him carefully and nearly pitifully as she crouched down to kneel next to his body. His body was littered and splattered with bright red wounds. His pants looked as if they were dip dyed in red paint; His once pale skin along with the majority of his clothes was covered in a bright red splatter. Long, dark red lacerations decorated his face. His mouth was still agape; his once white teeth were coated in the same shade of red his clothes were.

Even though he looked absolutely horrible; Mallory still felt absolutely no remorse for the antichrist. Knowing what he would become, and his sick ways of manipulation deserved no mercy. However, knowing only seconds ago he was nothing but a mere bloody, suffering child.. she couldnt help but to not fight the tears she felt budding at her eyes; letting one slide down her cheek before quickly wiping it away - she knew it was naive to assume she wasnt being watched.

Mallory wasnt stupid - she knew her powers and what she was capable of, like the back of her hand by now. The past few months practically consisted of her testing and expanding on her limits... She knew that healing Michael in this exact moment wasnt out of the question. In fact, it almost seemed to be more difficult to restrain herself from healing him.. but she knew better.

He deserves to fucking suffer. He deserved to rot in his personal hell; wherever that may be.

She couldnt help but to nearly laugh at the thought that he finally got what was fucking coming to him.

Mallory could feel herself shaking with how close she was to Michael now. She couldnt stand how he made her feel when they were this close - almost touching.

She now was kneeling next to his body on the concrete, her knees aching from the rough surface but she couldnt go just yet. Not when she still had no fucking clue where to go from here.

The world seemed as if it came to stand still; nothing seemed like it existed outside of the small bubble that Mallory felt her and Michael were suddenly trapped in.. The birds stopped singing, no cars happened to drive by.. everything just stopped.

All the spirits and souls that Mallory could feel that were trapped within the grounds of the house, didnt bother to make a appearance either. But she knew they were still there... she could still feel their eyes on her. Watching; waiting.

The sun's warmth, which normally Mallory chose to bask in, was starting to make her itch. She could feel her skin start to moisten with sweat.. Instinctively she knew that her sudden newfound state of being uncomfortable was her cue to leave... To go where though? She wasnt sure.

Why am I still here? If everything had happened correctly; if I really killed him.. then why havent I woken up yet??

Mallory continued to stare at him grimly; not quite brave enough to speak but still managing to maintain the courage to sit by him and look at the damage she caused. The most jarring feature of Michael's current appearance would be his eyes. Mallory couldnt help but to stare at them; and it certainly wasnt because they were beautiful.

His once vibrant, sky blue, irises were now starting to look oddly dull. A faint, milky white color looked as if it were painted over them instead.

His skin was now a bruised white; Mallory shakily extended out her hand - pressing the back of her knuckles softly to his forearm. She wanted to see how cold his body was; and when she made contact - she pulled her hand back so fast as if it had been burned. She hissed, the coolness of his skin stunned her. She stared at his body intensely - shocked that she even dared to touch him, let alone even stick around for this long.

The sounds Michael started to make is what finally drove Mallory to wake up out her near trance she found herself amidst in and to realize the reality of the situation. After minutes of silence and stillness, and sure death, Michael's chest finally started to move. The amount at which his chest moved was nearly minuscule at first; but he was recovering rather quickly.. too fucking quickly for Mallorys liking.

It was almost sickly ironic how Mallorys chest started to move faster and faster as soon as Michael's did; she couldn't help but to feel entirely panicked. The rest of her emotions; her thoughts; her feelings; everything that used to make up her was now fleeting.. rapidly leaving until as she could focus on was the oxygen briskly escaping her.

She watched the color from his skin start to return; the off putting stark whiteness leaving and a very subtle pink gracing his skin tone. More noticeably; she observed how the color in his lips and eyes returned back.. almost appearing normal.

She unconsciously found herself rising; panic still occupying all of her senses. She quickly unfolded her legs and steadied herself as she stood up.. One thought and one thought only rang through her mind like a sick mantra..

I need to get the fuck out of here.

Mallory tried to gasp as she suddenly felt her throat grow incredibly dry; she let out a desperate dry cough. Her eyes started to tear up unwillingly as she felt a enormous amount of self doubt suddenly surge into the core of her being - the feeling slipping momentarily into her soul.

The world around her began to spin and melt away simultaneously; until she felt her physical body melt away from Michael and the Murder House incredibly rapidly before she could even fully process what was happening.

She felt the harsh coldness of the bath tub water for a split second before she emerged; the black water engulfing her as she stayed partially concealed within the water. Immeadietly she found herself gasping and gagging on her tongue from not being able to breath possibly fast enough... The next thing she felt was otherworldly pain. She felt so much fucking pain.

Mallory gripped the edge of the bathtub until her fingertips turned white and her nails threatened to split. She stayed like that for a moment; spitting and gasping, trying to find a way to consume as much oxygen as possible while managing the nearly unimaginable pain. Her entire body throbbed but her eyes felt a different pain; a sickly stinging.

Keeping her posture and preventing herself from slipping entirely back into the black water was a fucking mission in itself, she quickly learned. She didnt even bother to pretend to be quiet.. Her breaths and groans were far too loud to even begin to ignore.

Is Michael still alive? Where is Myrtle?

Mallorys lungs seemed to return to normal capacity after a while, her gasping decreased until she was utterly and completely quiet. She arose from the water as quietly as she possibly could, biting her lip to prevent making any additional noise from the sudden cold air she felt against her body.. stinging and torturous..

Her eyes still ached, bringing her hands instinctively to her eyes to stop the pain - she realized ones of her hands was still balled into a fist.. holding onto something.

Was that.. is that MICHAELS hair??

Mallory stared at the once curly, perfectly golden strands of hair that lie in her balled up fist in complete horror - it was now a dark red from the blood that had washed off her skin and into the water.

There was no way this was HIS hair. It had to be someone elses; anyone elses! She refused to believe that she was holding onto anything that belonged or had to do with Michael... complete disgust and delirium rendered her from thinking that.

Her first instinct was to drop the hair; but something told her to keep holding onto the lock, it would only serve her well in the future.

Her vision was inky with blood; dark red clouding her vision and making her feel even more impaired and utterly hopeless then she already felt.. even with the large wound still gaping and bleeding from her stomach. Her stomach wound made her entire body ache, trying to stay conscious was a fight within itself.

It happened again. I failed.

She wasnt sure if she was just being cynical or if her thoughts were even to be trusted anymore when she was in this state.. she only knew she wanted this horrible nightmare to be fucking over with already. She wanted to wake up in Robichauxs and see her sisters; Misty, Madison, Queenie, Zoe and more than anyone.. Cordelia... Oh fuck.

Cordelia... She was still dead.. because of me.

Mallory blinked slowly a few times; taking her free hand and wiping as much blood away from her face and eyes as she could - just enough so she could fully take in her surroundings.

If she could feel her stomach; she was sure she would feel it drop because as much as she looked, she saw no one. Absolutely no one. Tears slipped down her cheeks but they werent bloody anymore. She knew she was completely fucked; he had her cornered.

Well not literally anyways. He still managed to lurk somewhere within the vast empty walls of Outpost Three; most likely looking for her.. but he had to know she was fatally wounded.. right?

That's when out of the thick silenceness, she heard the first sign of life. Loud; but distant heavy footsteps.

Michael.

She knew she was fucked right away. She could almost feel his spirit itself within Hawthorne; the feeling slowly flowing to her until it forced her to be frozen. Petrified, still sopping wet and with some left over blood dripping off her chin - she knew what she had to do.. and she only had seconds to do it. Mallory knew he was approaching closer and closer the longer she stood docile in the bathtub.. like a idiot.

She took deep, heavy breaths. Fully; for the first time, cherishing the feeling of oxygen in her lungs - knowing that she very well might not make it out alive. Preforming time travel once alone was a enormous feat; but she had already done it twice.. but three times?

The thought simultaneously scared and excited her; she continued take deep breaths before relaxing. Closing her eyes and focusing; searching for a moment in Michael's history to go back too.

There had to be another time Michael was weak besides when he was with Constance at the murder house.. Another time that he felt abandoned.. lost.. confused..

She swallowed as she felt and focused on the soft strands of hair that she held onto; trying to search desperately for the answer that she needed as she took the next step and plunged herself under the water, first barely managing to weakly whisper, "tempus infinituum".

The water tore at her skin as she felt herself letting go from the past reality... slowly yet rapidly her senses seemed to all melt away at once before she was floating- until nothing.

Suddenly Mallory opened her eyes, blinking as she kept calm as she adjusted to her new surroundings.. an open, nearly empty forest was what welcomed her as she slowly spun around.

The smell of pine leaves and the heavy scent of the forest consumed her senses. She first felt calm and at peace; the forest was beautiful. She almost felt tempted to forget about what she came here to do and to lose herself within the sea of greenery but.. something was terribly wrong.

More so; someone was here.

Mallory first stood still; puzzled as to why she was now standing in a vacant forest with pine needles at her feet.

She didnt dare say a word out loud, just in case, but she knew she was waiting for something before she dared to take a step.. she was waiting for a sign. She didnt bat a eye when she felt a soft, warm breeze tousle her hair forward. She felt it continue to crash against her body - almost like soft waves crashing upon rocks. She felt it on her warm skin; her skin getting goosebumps as she knew what this meant. She was getting her sign.

This is it. Is he here?

Mallory giggled at the mere thought; the anticipation and glee of imagining how this nightmare perhaps could be over in the near future was making her experience true euphoria.

She began to walk through the forest; passing several trees as she searched for what she was yearning for. The breeze was far gone by now but she knew to keep going; to keep looking. She looked at the forest landscape that lie ahead of her; a sea of moss and blended greens and blues. The forest didnt have the same magic it typically held though; something was missing.

It was because she was getting closer to him.

Mallory had to suppress a scream as she suddenly felt herself step on something that wasnt the forest floor. She felt a painful shiver run directly down her spine, almost as if someone was running a blade down her back. She was becoming consumed with panic once more; and with the sudden realization what was happening.. What this meant.

It was pure reflex which caused her to take a step back; even before she had the opportunity to look down and confirm her suspicions, she knew exactly what she had stepped on. A body.

She quickly looked down at what she had stepped on - not able to take the anonymity of the individual any longer.. and of course..

I fucking knew it.

She recognized who it was immeadietly, curly blonde hair that was mangled with dirt and a typical black outfit.. it was too easy to guess the identity of the body. He was face down, his body sprawled out unnaturally and in a uncomfortable manner..

It was once again; Michael Langdon.

Taglist: @mina672 @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakewaterxx @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @beyond-repentance @lizzy-claire-fandom

46 notes · View notes

oc-and-art-review-reblog · 3 years

Text

name: wildheart specise: fire element draco-morphiad (explained below) pronouns: she/her

specise info: draco-morphiads are, basically, a specise of sexless magic cat furries. each one of them controls one of twelve elements (although two of them are special); fire (fire elements are also able to control one type of igneous rock, differing depending on the individual), water, earth, air, plant, plague, void (this void being concentrated everythingness and named for its pitch black color, there may only be one void element at a time and only two have ever been recorded), quantum strings (this has been proven to be possible, but never recorded), gemstone, metal, sound and light. draco-morphiads have a unique internal anatomy, their body cavity is filled entirely with liquid magic. this magic contains their consiousness and, when needed, forms organs to keep the draco-morphiad alive. draco-morphiads also have whats known as elemental bits, an extra part of their body made from their element or regular body part modified by it. draco eye color is also generally dictated by their element. just a draco-morphiad generation (they live tens of thousands of years) ago, they had an expansive interdimensional (this takes place in a multiverse) empire. but for reasons now lost to time, it fell. the specise took heavy casualties, although it was nowhere close to extinction. theyre rarer now, and... scattered, to say the least. their natural ability to create interdimensional portals doesnt help that. given that draco-morphiads are sexless, their native language's pronouns were dependant on element, but wildheart was raised by a sexed specise tens of thousands of years after the near extinction of the language (plus draco-morphiads were invented to explain her so i think she should get to keep her pronouns).

apperance: wildheart has brown fur, which turns abruptly black (like, theres a straight, non-gradiant divide between the back and brown) at the waist, so approximately half of her is black and half is brown . she has blood red eyes. fire element eyes are usually orange, but this is explained. she has a pair of half-crescent obsidian wings coming out of her shoulderblades, each one flanked by three floating obsidian triangles. embedded in her chest is a peice of obsidian shaped like a broken heart, and her claws are obsidian as well. she has a couple notches in each ear and a scar over her eye.

story: wildheart is born on a remote planet in a remote universe. save for her and her littermate, their parents and their older sibling squirreltail. soon after the two's birth, their parents die of reasons. unprepared to take care of them, squirreltail opens two portals to random inhabited parts of the multiverse and sends them through, hoping each will be picked up by someone responsible and more able than him.wildheart ends up being adopted by a family of goatlike skeleton monsters, where she stays for the first 13 years of her life (draco-mophiads age like humans up until about their 20th birthday). during this time she becomes incredibly close with her adopted brother, [edit with name later, i forgot it]. shortly after her 13th birthday, wildheart discovered her ability to make portals. with their parents permission, she and her brother went out to explore the multiverse a little.on their little jaunt, the two encountered a creature totally alien to them, and wildheart dared her brother to go poke it with a stick. unfortunately, the creature turned out to be a bear-esque superpreadator and ripped wildheart's brother to shreds while she watched.wildheart opened a portal to nowhere in particular, landing her at a market in the interdimensional void (my imagining of the multiverse is, like space, mostly empty. universes take the shape of enormous white orbs with the texture of frosted lightbulbs. their glow is soft, yet can be seen from light centuries away). scared to go back home, she wandered.and wildheart never stopped wandering. she quickly exanded her scope to universe hopping, trying her best to repress the memories and emotions from her brother's death.during the next eleven years, wildheart developed a routine. explore and universe hop, break gear, plunder something ancient for rare stuff, sell it at the interdimensional market, get new gear, repeat. in ancient tombs and temples, wildheart saw one thing over and over again. carvings of things that looked like her, had the same powers as her. naturally, she assumed she was the last.on the eve of her 24th birthday, wildheart was traveling through the market, looking for something special to get herself. wherever she went, the vendors all talked about one thing. the nearby combat arena had a new champion, a catlike (cats are p much a multiversal constant) calling herself reaper. knowing wildheart, many suggested she challenge her.wildheart was confident in her abilities, both physical and magical, so she decided that a championship would be the perfect gift to herself.

she actually proved a pretty even match for reaper, but in the end the champion won. though wildheart's energy seemed boundless, reapers patience and tactical skill were ultimately able to exhaust her.

after the fight, the two met by chance somewhere in/around the market. they got to talking, reaper asking what wildheart does for a living. finding the prospect of universe-hopping more interesting than beating the shit out of people, reaper asked to join wildheart.

reaper was a tall (for a draco) draco-morphiad with black fur, white patterns outlining the shape of her skeleton (or what it would be if draco-morphiads had those). she wore a grey hoodie. her wings, skeletal things composed entirely of ice, marked her as a water element, though her eyes seemed to contradict that (although wildheart didnt really know that). instead of the slightly desaturated off-teal you would expect from a water element, reapers eyes were pich black with pupils colored a deep, beautiful blue.

anyway, after a few weeks of traveling the multiverse together, the two encountered something strange. a universe with no glow, just a dull grey orb.

portaling inside (and quickly leaving), the two found that the universe was empty. it had experienced a heat death, something totally unnatural in this setting.

wildheart and reaper agreed that they had to find and kill whoever did this.

idk how, exactly, they found him, but that person turned out to be a being calling himself entropy, the incarnation of the void, the nothingness that came before the multiverse. while he was monolouging about a pair of beings called 'chaos' and 'order', wildheart and reaper tried to jump entropy. entropy did not like this. he used some sort of attack that sent the pair into a strange voidspace.

sat in this voidspace was a pair of beings. a scribbled dragon, with eyes of wildheart's blood red, and a hyperrealistic marble statue of a woman with a buzzcut in a dress, with gemstone eyes of reapers deep, beautiful blue. the two were enormous, the tip of the dragons talon bigger than wildheart's entire body. they were playing chess on a table of equal proportions.

"you're back early." remarked the dragon "did something happen?"

after a bit of confusion, it became understood that wildheart and reaper had no idea who these people were or where they were.

the two giants explained that they were chaos (the scribbled dragon) and order, demiurges of the multiverse.

many googols (a number with a hundred zeroes) of googols of eons ago, there was nothing. out of that nothing arose chaos, pure unbridled creation. but without filter, chaos could not create or take any definite form. and so, it (chaos is they/it) sat as a sort of existance soup for not even they know how long. until, at some point, order arose from the void. order was filter, what chaos needed to truly create. she (order is she/it) could not create by itself either, each dependant on the other to do something they instinctually longed for. order's form was also much different from her current day form, either a ball of quantum strings or a colorless cube of indeterminate material (i havent decided). so, the two came together and created. one of the first things the two created was a pair of souls, one blood red and the other a deep, beautiful blue. each one carved their true name into the corresponding soul in the first language, marking them as the incarnations of chaos and order.t hey were to be sent out into the multiverse together every once in a while, when the multiverse needed saving or just spicing up. of course the current incarnations were wildheart, incarnation of chaos and reaper, incarnation of order. they had been sent out this time for the purpose of killing entropy, whose trail of destruction included countless universes. but for reasons i dont know yet but were probably a mistake on chaos and orders part, they couldnt do it by themselves. they needed two more of their kind (chaos was vague about what 'their kind' was because i want it to be revealed in the narrative later). idk if its the two specific dracos they meet later or just any.

theyre currently in the place behind existance, chaos and order's personal voidspace.

chaos also reveals when talking to order that wildheart and reaper are siblings, before promptly sending them back out into the multiverse. entropy has long moved on, assuming he killed the two siblings.

the story isnt too well planned from here but

after some freaking out/contemplating/whatever over the fact that theyre siblings, wildheart and reaper continue on.

eventually, they encounter Six Of Spades, child of the last draco-morphiad monarch. saen (six of spades uses saen/trah pronouns, the traditional draco neutral/no-element pronouns) is a no-element, a semi-rare mutant with, you guessed it, no element. six of spades percives this as a fault of some sort, and overcompensates for it by playing up the ‘last heir to the draco-morphiad throne’ thing. Technically, saens cousin would have inherited the throne, but saen has no cousins saens aware of. six of spades would actually make a good monarch, if not for saens general neurosis and feeling of being (mostly) superior to those around trah.

six of spades watched saens parent die in front of saen to poachers, who wanted monarch eris (six of spades's parent)'s teeth. the teeth are the only part of a draco-morphiads pure magic core that doesnt simply dissipate after death. theyre an extremely potent source of magic, thus why draco-morphiads were killed for them shortly after the fall of the empire.

apperance wise, six of spades is an average sized (about 4 feet tall) grey draco-morphiad. saen has medium-grey fur down to saens waist, where its abruptly replaced by light grey scales. saen has ear fins like a dragon, and spikes going down saens back that may or may not start with the scales. six of spades has a lizard like tail and long, angular talons. save for color scheme (monarch eris was green), the spitting image of saens parent. six of spades also wears a worn gold crown and carries a worn gold staff with a magic gemstone orb, both posessions of monarch eris

wldheart and reaper convince six of spades to come with them.

eventually, they encounter a young (about 13 year old)

0 notes

ask-the-clergy-bc · 4 years

Note

I couldnt find it when I checked so I don't know if it's been done before, but the papas/cardinal with an s/o with ADHD?

Wrote this in the direction of the reader is showing different symptoms or behaviors typical of an adult with ADHD- so I hope this is what you were looking for! Also, since no two people experience ADHD exactly the same I wrote for a mix of all types and different symptom focuses. Please enjoy!

Aaaaaand HUGE shout out to @atricksterproblem, who inspired me a long time ago with her wonderful head canons of Papa III having ADHD himself! I’ve been incorporating that into my works and she was kind enough to give me permission to expand in my own writing! Thanks Trickster! <3

And here is also a mild trigger warning, since I’m going to be talking about some distressing symptoms!

Papa Nihil: Admittedly, doesn’t really know a lot about ADHD simply because he grew up in a time where there wasn’t a whole lot of knowledge about the subject. Back in his day, there weren’t a whole lot of labels or even help for people. Far different from the wonders of today’s psychological understanding! All he knows is sometimes you show VERY similar behaviors and habits to his youngest son. Except, unlike with his son, the Grand Papa has been far more supportive and helpful with you. Nihil took a lot of notice during days you seemed far more restless and easily frustrated with tasks you tried to accomplished. He kept finding unfinished projects littered over your work area and you nearly in tears as you could just not will yourself to sit and focus, even though you desperately wanted to.

Nihil sat with you and tried to help you work through it little by little until you broke down and admitted that your ADHD was acting up worse than normal. When he gave you a blank look, you almost thought he was judging you.... until he dead panned asked what that meant. It took a little time for him to fully understand what the disorder was as you felt more comfortable to explain. Nihil is honestly a bit ashamed he didn’t know sooner or offer you better support- he tends to be blind to other’s distress or needs. Nihil knows he wasn’t the most patient with his children in the past and now tries to do better by you. He takes the time to do more reading and ask what he can do to help keep you more on focus or even motivated. He’s no doctor but he’s not heartless and loves you. If offering help and support is what you need, he will give it to you!

Papa I: Knew from the get go you probably had some form of ADHD or were nuerodivergent- which is not at all a bad thing. He, being nuerodivergent himself, knows that there is nothing shameful or ‘broken’ about you (an unfortunate feeling many siblings have felt about themselves and confided to him about.) So it doesn’t even occur to him to give your ADHD any mind unless your symptoms were bothering you. It wasn’t as often, but he always sat with you during small anxiety attacks or days you were feeling down. But the worse was the time where you were feeling extremely upset and couldn’t calm yourself down. When Papa sat with you asked what was wrong you nearly cried when you explained the situation.

That someone said something hurtful the other day, that it REALLY hurt your feelings to the point where you couldn’t get it out of your head, and how you nearly had a panic attack over how you thought people were thinking poorly of you and judging you for being stuck on something for DAYS that wasn’t EVEN that important! That now you felt like you were a giant baby and no one was going to want to talk to you cause you cried about everything! Papa only tutted and put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. There’s nothing wrong with being upset and you aren’t foolish for feeling so strongly about it. Your reaction doesn’t make you ‘overly sensitive’ and it’s ok to slowly get it out of your system. Papa knows that you emotions tend to be way stronger than his are, but he’s always there through the good and bad days! All he wants you to know is that he will never invalidate how you feel and he’d rather you feel strongly than try to bottle everything.

Papa II: Despite being a quiet and seemingly emotionless, Papa does pay attention to those around him. Especially you, his significant other. He was very keen and picked up almost immediately when he could tell you seemed to struggle to understand what he was saying. Normally, incompetence bothers him- he’s met many stupid people who couldn’t tell their ass from a hole in the ground. But he was also quick to know that you absolutely were not stupid- not in the slightest. Papa could tell the way your brows crinkled in frustration when you were trying to understand an order from your boss, only to ask them to repeat it several times. Or when you both had a conversation with someone and your eyes seemed to look far away until you were brought back to Earth.

Papa is not heartless, and has never made an attempt to shame you or put you down for it. He’s a smart man and can tell right away the difference between simply not paying attention and struggling to keep attention. He’s Papa after all- what kind of leader would he be if he didn’t understand all the different types of people in his flock? His suspicions are only confirmed when you feel comfortable telling him that you had ADHD- when you broke down and felt self conscious. You begged him not to think you were incompetent and that you really WERE trying your best to listen. He merely put up a hand to stop you and answered with a gentle, “I know, no need to apologize.” Papa has only asked you be open on days you need support... and he’s none too happy if anyone ever gives you trouble for needing time to listen and ask questions. He never wants you to apologize.

Papa III: Papa has always been known for many things, both good and bad. Ever since he was a child he’s been hard to make sit still for very long and always seemed to want to get his hands on any and everything. Even as a young priest his mind always seemed to be far away and never at the task at hand. To this day Papa is still the same and was very delighted to know you shared his energy! He always pegged you as someone who would rather be putting their efforts into something FUN or MEANINGFUL, and not the dull boringness of responsibility. That is, until you confided in him that you and your therapist were making plans to help with some cognitive behaviors. You were excited to tell him the ideas you both had since you recently found your lack of concentration worse than normal and were eager to set up a better routine!

Whatever do you mean, darling? ‘Hyperactivity’? ‘Inattentive Type’? What does that even mean?? You were shocked that he didn’t know that you had ADHD. When you two sat down you were happy to just share some of your experiences with him, as he was incredibly curious. Recently, you felt that you were drifting off into space more than normal and felt like you weren’t processing what people were telling you as easily. Papa was confused and posed the question, isn’t that normal for everyone? When you explained that it wasn’t you both started to compare experiences. How you both couldn’t sit still, or focus when it wasn’t interesting... or focus too hard when you LOVED something. You didn’t think of it at the time, but your conversation is how you both realized maybe HE had the same thing! At the end of the day, it has made you both closer and given you a mutual support system.

Cardinal Copia/Papa IV: Copia is honestly not as phased when you opened up to him about your ADHD the first time. You were used to some people not really understanding what it was like to be an adult with some of these issues, and sometimes being incredibly rude about it. But Copia acted so casually, like you only just told him your shoe size or favorite color. It takes him a minute to understand why you were so confused and he apologizes profusely. He’s quick to explain that being a Cardinal, in his experience, is very hands on with Siblings of Sin. He’s worked with so many abbeys and so many children of sin, that he’s met people from all walks of life. So he’s had a lot of Siblings he’s helped with ADHD and other similar conditions!

Copia has never one to really see a person’s diagnosis as something to be ‘shocked’ or ‘weary’ about. That doesn’t define you as a person, nor does it make you any less to anyone deemed ‘typical’ or ‘normal.’ The only time these are a problem are when symptoms are keeping you from living your best life. Copia admits that he already knew you had ADHD long before you became a couple- simply because he’s worked with many siblings who have sought comfort and advice from him and noticed a lot of your telling habits. Copia doesn’t like asking about it or making you admit it if you aren’t ready- so he never did. Copia wanted you to be comfortable enough to talk to him about it if and when you needed to. When you feel ready he just wants to let you know he’s always there for support to help on days it feels bad. He knows how it feels to be overwhelmed easily, and wants you to always come to him if you need to!

#the band ghost #ghost bc #Ghost headcanon #reader insert #minor trigger warning #mental disorder #anxiety #symptoms #adhd #papa nihil #papa emeritus i #Papa Emeritus II #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia

59 notes · View notes

modharlow · 5 years

Text

Today was one of those days again. The sky looked stormy yet shed no rain, the sun barely peeking out for a second before sheltering itself away. People were bustling about to do their everyday work, all seeming to enjoy themselves. Oh, how you wish that were you, but alas it was not. No, you were out here, passing through Valentine, because some sorry excuse of a father left the camp again. “Probably drunk off his ass again.” You lowly hissed out.

When Charles came up to Dutch and reported the missing man, the leaders eyes happened to fall on you to retrieve him. Fortunately he also sent Arthur with you. “I trust you kid,” Dutch started off as he lead you to your horse, “but not enough to believe you won’t kick Mr. Swanson’s ass.”

Well… at least he was cautious because he was right. If it had been just you, you would’ve beat the man black and blue—mostly out of anger but if you happen to fix whatever the hell was going on in that mans brain then that’d work fine too.

It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve lied hands on him, though you never want “too far”. Given everything he’d done, or hasn’t done for better words, you going easy on him was a mercy.

”Aw, now now, little birdy,” Arthur’s voice cut through your thoughts, “I know that face. Don’t tell me you plannin’ on killin’ him this time?” His tone was joking but you couldn’t help the silent “and if I do?” that came out.

Letting out a whistle, the outlaw adjusted his hat. “You ever gonna tell me what’s the bad blood between you two?”

”On my deathbed, maybe.”

”Don’t be like that.” He replied, his tone growing soft. “He’s still your father. Doesn’t help that he’s always drunk, I know, but he’s tryin’.”

You swore you’ve never felt such hot rage boil deep inside your veins. Your knuckles turned white from your grip in the horses’ reins and your teeth clenched down to prevent you from shouting at your friend. “Arthur,” your voice was tense, just like your body, “don’t be defendin’ that man when you’ve no reason.”

The ride was silent now, save for the goodhearted people that said hello to either of you as you passed, until you both made it out of town.

Arthur let out a long sigh before taking lead and changing the direction you both were going. “C’mon, we’re gonna talk this out, you ‘nd me.”

”Arthur-”

”We’ll find him, trust me. We always do. Right now you just need to explain to me why the hell you hate his guts so much when neither of you even look at each other.”

You took note at the new destination. It was somewhere away from the roads, perfect for a private talk.

Now it was your turn to let out a long sigh. You didn’t say anything until you both ended up by some trees. From there Arthur got off his horse and motioned for you to do the same. When you did he sat both you down at the foot of a tree, perfectly protected from prying ears and the possible rain if it were to happen.

Leaning his head against the tree, Arthur spoke. “When you joined our camp you were so happy, so giddy. You didn’t have a care in the world. It was… nice. A nice change of pace.”

”I was young then. I didn’t understand anythin’.”

”What makes you think you understand now?”

Scoffing, you turned away from him brought your knees to your chest. Silently, you said, “I understand enough to know he’s a dead-beat dad.”

”Feel like elaboratin’?”

It became silent again. The horses were eating grass as the tree swayed itself side-to-side, birds flying overhead in a mixture of dull colors. All were unaware of the grief and burning hatred you held inside.

Taking in a deep breath, in through your nose and out through your mouth, you started to pick at the dirt and rocks in the ground. “I was four when mama died.” You breathed out. “I didn’t know that’s what it was. Just thought she was nappin’, y’know? She’d always seemed so… tired.” You faintly turned to face Arthur. “Was like she lost her light.” A soft chuckle filled the moment. “Guess in the end… she did, huh?”

”I’m… Listen, I-”

”You wanna know how she died, Arthur?” You were facing him now, your face calm yet the grip you had on a spare rock from the ground said otherwise. “She used the exact mechanisms my father’s usin’ right now.” You turned your attention to the rock in your hands, fingers nimbly toying with it. “Turns out, you know, that she didn’t want a child. She wanted to be free… but was tied down because of me—and dad? Oh, well, he had his teachings to do. No, he could never come home on time or spend some moments with his only kid.” You tossed the rock away from you, your eyes narrowing to keep yourself at bay. “Don’t think he wanted a child either.”

”Now that ain’t true.” Arthur interjected before flinching slightly at your glare yet not faltering. “I dunno about your mama but Reverend loves you.”

”If he loved me then why the hell are we out here having to look for his sorry ass?!” You yelled, getting up from your spot and walking away a few steps. “If he loved me then why was he never there for me? When men would be lookin’ at me weirdly, or when kids would hurt me ‘cause I only had one parent? What about when I was almost kidnapped ‘cause his dumbass had a damn “meeting” to go too, huh?”

Arthur got up too with his hands held up in surrender as he took careful steps towards you. “Easy now. It’s okay. You’re okay.” But his words fell on deaf ears as you let your pent up emotions explode inside you.

”I was six when I learned what death was. I tried killin’ myself, then tried again a few months later. I was eight when I tried to talk to him only for him to push me away. I was nine when I ran away before comin’ back. It’s funny, you know, ‘cause it was like he didn’t notice I was gone.” You swallowed down the sob that desparely wanted to come out, instead letting whimpers leave your mouth. “I was fourteen when I realized he didn’t care for me. He never did, he only worries about himself—if you can even call whatever he’s doin’, “worrying”.”

You furiously wiped at your eyes, teeth eating away at your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying more. “Arthur. Arthur, I’m bein’ honest when I say this,” you took in a shaky breath, “I’ve dreamt of killin’ him. I’ve always felt free when I did it, too. It felt so refreshin’ to me. Was like chains were melted off and I could finally run again. It’s a feelin’ I chase after every time we have to look for him.”

When you looked up at Arthur with those vulnerable eyes, he was at a loss for words. He thinks back to his own memories of you being that happy-go-lucky kid he grew up with and felt his chest tighten. So was that all a facade so you could hide away your pain? How had he not noticed to sooner? Did anyone else know? Dutch? Hosea? You were close to those two but… did you ever really let them in?

”I’m… I’m sorry, I…” Those were not the words he wanted to say. Truly, he didn’t know what to say. He knew Swanson was not an ideal father but this—this is how you were treated? How you lived your life? “I don’t… know what to say.”

”No one ever does.”

After a short pause, Arthur felt his own anger begin to form when your died down. “Why the hell do we still keep him ‘round then? If he’s like this to you, then why don’t we just get rid of him? You’re the only one we really need. You hunt, fish, and you can even haggle someone almost as well as Hosea! He doesn’t do shit-”

”Arthur, I thank you for feelin’ my anger for me but it’s… I hate him, I do, but it’s more complex than that.” Now you felt bad for pulling your friend along with your emotions. You should’ve kept your mouth shut like you always had, only showing anger when it was just you and your dad alone.

Huffing, Arthur let his hands hold onto his belt as he leaned on his foot. “Well… we got all the time in the world for you to talk.”

While you dried off your wet face with your sleeve, you tried to formulate the correct words. “It’s… hard to explain. If he’s gone then… I’ll have no more blood-family. ‘Nd despite everythin’, well, he still let me go with him to join Dutch when he could’ve left me.” You voice trailed off, your eyes straying from the looks Arthur was giving you. “I-I know, okay? It’s idiotic for me to feel like this even after all that’s happened but I just—I can’t leave him to fend for himself. He lost his wife, ‘nd now I’m all that he has. Even if we don’t talk…”

”I don’t think I’ll ever understand you.” Arthur muttered as he took steps towards you. “I ain’t ever been in your boots so I guess I can’t say much but,” cautiously, he put his arms around you, “if you ever want his ass gone, just say so. Or if you… if you wanna leave ‘nd let him stay with the gang then… that’s alright. Just tell me beforehand, okay? I’d be mighty down if you up and left without a goodbye.”

You nodded your head while you returned the hug. Your eyelids stung and your body felt heavy from your outbursts of emotions, though you couldn’t deny how safe you felt right at this moment.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself get lost in the feeling of being openly loved by someone you held dear to you.

Arthur had been your first since you were first welcomed to the gang and a side of you berated yourself for keeping silent from him for so long. Still, within these moments, you felt alright. You felt… free. “I won’t leave. Not when I have someone like you lookin’ out for me.” You tried to bury yourself deep into his chest, wanting to stay with this comfort for much longer. Softly, you whispered out, “Thank you.”

56 notes · View notes

comeondowntosouthparkrpg-blog · 5 years

Text

Lola Thomas

Will she friend us on Facebook yet? Lola has been accepted! Send in your blog and faceclaim!

out of character info

Name/Alias: lexi (yeah im gonna try this again because looks like the negativity is GONE. BLESS.)

Pronouns: she/her

Age: 18

Join Our Discord: Yeaaaah

Timezone: central

Activity: 7 ( i do work so activity will prolly bump before 2pm and after 8pm lmao )

Triggers: nada

Password: jimmy can fast pass my ass ;))

Character that you’re applying for: Lola Thomas

Favourite ships for your character: going in this with a clean slate so try and give me a favorite ship? ’,:)

in character info

Full name: Lola Diane Thomas

Birthday: May 20th.

Sexuality, gender, pronouns: pansexual, female, she/her

Age and grade: 16 (almost 17) && senior.

Faceclaim: Taylor Hill

Appearance:

Head: Lola is what you call a tall glass of water. She’s refreshingly attractive. Her eyes are neither blue or green but a weird combination of the two colors, making them pop against her naturally darkened complexion. Her hair is soft and wavy and like to tangle near the ends by the time Lola is out of school and on the way to work. It’s color likes to change with the rare sunlight, meaning if she is outside in the sun all day every day natural highlights will appear in her honey chestnut tresses. Her nose is like a little button that deserves to be booped constantly. Her lips are full and plump- to that she owes genetics. Lola believes it is her only good trait.

Body: A natural looker. She stands at about 5'8, so be prepared if you’re tiny. She will tower you with her legs for DAYS. She doesn’t have particularly large assets but they are there. And it’s a nice handful on either side of the equator. You just gotta look for them behind her non-stop barrage of sweaters. She likes to say she has a white girl booty- its cute && snooty. Her shoulders and cheeks are very, very, lightly dusted in freckles you can only see in the winter. Despiter her tall figure, Lola is NOT a bean pole, she’s slim thicccc weighing about 145 pounds and it’s not in her face.

Style: Lola dresses like she lives in Goodwill, trendy and thrifty. She would kill for knee socks and button up blouses. She aims to look like ‘The classic look of a teenager in the 90’s’. Her shoes will never don a heel for she believes she is 'too tall’ for them. She likes to keep a mellow color scheme for all her clothing items. Tan, green, white. Sometimes she looks like the first instagram post you see tagged * v i n t a g e. *

Personality:

First off let’s get this straight, with Lola it’s not a personality but more of how she adopts a personality to fit each social clique she is suckered into that day. If you dig deeep deeeeeep down pass the meme references and pop culture shout outs- she’s awfully shy and hates making the first move in ANY kind of situation. She is sympathetic to most of the problems she hears- other than relationship ones. What’s a feeling for someone else other than your cat? She doesn’t get it. Skittish doesn’t even cover how much of a fraidy cat she is.. One little boo when she’s not expecting it is enough to get Lola to shriek and jump three feet into the air. She does have a nuturing instinct, finding it rather difficult to see anyone lonely or upset.

Once you get to know Lola, she is a sweetheart with a soul of gold. She would freeze in the frigid temperatures to keep her friend warm. She’s the girl who will sneak you into her house so you dont have to go home if you’re scared too or can’t. She is quite snarky however- as if a dam broke and every witty thought ever spun in her head rushes out. Once you get her talking about something she is personally interested in, good luck shutting her up. Lola is also a very superstitious person. Never one too step on a crack or split a pole. Her biggest quirk would have to be her need for reassurance that her jokes are funny. She thinks of herself as a comedian but is already sure everyone thinks she is trying too hard. She is a rather dull girl on the outside, moody and solemn. But if you can crack into her cold shell there’s an ooey gooey sweetness inside. Lola is often easily upset- movies to road kill make her tear up. Anytime she even gets mad the salry reminders if her lameness well up in her eyes. And that only pisses her off more.

Despite having a cool exterior she can and will snap- just push the right buttons.

History:

Lola wouldnt deem herself an outcast yet she would always feel that way. Whether she was cheering with the girls or writing lists with Jenny, her feelings were uncontrollable. Her anxiety makes it impossible to determine if someone is being nice to her or if they have a plot to harm her. In middle school, Lola secretly dreamt of becoming a goth kid- going as far as painting her nails black for two years. But her fears never made her set out to do it. Plus everyone was a little then so isn’t that technically confirming? Her school work was the only thing Lola was ever certain in. Work was easy, you couldn’t fuck it up by being a complete oddball. It was practically memorization. After starting high school, Lola was practically a wallflower. Hell she was the wall and the flower all wrapped in one. She dropped every friendship and dedicated herself to her studies and her pets. After she got a job she was allowed to have them finally and her fur babies were the only things she cared about truly and deeply. For they could never hate their mother.

Things were always tough for Lola, socially or economically, but that didn’t mean her childhood sucked. It just meant instead of a Barbie dreamhouse for Christmas she got the summer edition Barbie. Not a house. Just the doll. Jealousy is an emotion often clouding her anxieties and judgement on people. It caused her to lose her best friend since.. Well, as long as she could remember. Lola grew jealous and almost possessive over Jenny. She probably didn’t mean too but when she saw Jenny getting along with people when she couldnt caused a burning rage to settle in her chest. It got so bad Lola didnt even speak to anyone for a week before blowing up and ruining her only real friendship.

Just because she looks innocent doesn’t mean the brunette is. There are probably a few flat tires and keyed cars residing in South Park that are Lola’s own doing. Not to mention she is a total bystander. You wanna skip school? Cool, yeah I’ll watch for a teacher. You wanna smoke pot in the bathroom? It’s all good as long as she gets a hit. These are all childish 'bad behaviors’ but as Lola sees it, there’s no point in trying that hard to be bad. After all the one time she tried it, the poor thing almost died from hypothermia after blindly listening to a slumber party dare.

You aren’t supposed to sneak out in slumber parties. Or streak in Wal-Mart. Or jump of a bridge into negative temp waters. But these are all things Lola did too prove she was cool. And it ended up with her grounded, being hospitalised for pneumonia, and gaining a large fear of heights. And a hatred for party games.

Sample paragraph:

Of course, it was another cold blustery day. Chestnut tresses fluttered in front of her sight along the whole way home, it didn’t matter how many times she forcefully blew the bangs out of her face- they always flopped back down. Numbing fingers clutched tighter to the soft cloth lining of her jacket pockets. The index fingers and thumbs of both hands pinching at the materiel. Gosh- why is it always freezing? Dull orbs flittered around the blank scenery of the all too familiar path from her house to the school. The only sounds Lola could hear were the crunching of her flats against the snow and the wind whipping furiously around her. Boring. It was all white and boring. Lola was tired of being bored. She imagined that would be the only feeling she could muster for the rest of her life and it made the corners of her glossed lips tug down.

She shook her head as if to clear the thoughts instantly, humming a tune to distract herself as she continued on her trek.

One step, two step, three step…

…Sixteenth step-

Lola really needed a friend. A small sigh lifted her chest and as it billowed past her mouth she noticed movement in her peripherals. Was she really looking down this whole time like an idiot? How embarrassing! She clenched her hands into fists, further rumpling the jacket from its own pockets. Avoiding any kind of eye contact she swayed over to the side near the street and hurried her steps along. Too fast to count now. She passed the figure and her hands slowly unfurled. The blood rushing to her digits made them quite warm and her face flushed as well. God she was awkard.

Just as she thought she was in the clear, Lola felt a tap on her shoulder and her heart stuttered in its cavity as she stumbled to a stop. Fuck.

Headcanons:

🌟 owns a bike but rarely rides it.

🌟 has one cat- a black kitten named sparrow.

🌟 also two rats- yin and yang which are little chocolate colored sisters.

🌟 3.8 GPA

🌟 wants to learn french

🌟 owns a polaroid camera kinda girl

🌟 gardens in her free time

Anything else:

Im really insecure so if it takes me time to reply its cuz im demeaning myself and my baby and my words.

#accepted #submission

4 notes · View notes

moonwaif · 5 years

Text

Snow Over Insomnia: ch. 1

Pairings: Gladnis, promptis

Theme: snowed in

Summary:

Once a year, Shiva blesses Insomnia with snowfall. This year's snow day finds four friends in transition. There's Noctis, who's trying his best to enjoy freshman year. With his best friend Prompto enrolled at a different college, it hasn't been easy. When a particularly controversial lecture puts Noctis on the spot, he says some things he regrets. Can he make amends before their friendship freezes over?

Meanwhile, there's Gladiolus, who's finding it increasingly difficult to deny his feelings for coworker and friend Ignis Scientia. The appearance of a mysterious figure from Ignis's past might just be the sign that it's time to come clean. Will Gladio make a move, or will he let the opportunity melt away?

PT. I: 10:12 hours

It was a good thing Noctis had remembered to mute his laptop before class started, because he received his first message from Prompto just twelve minutes into the lecture.

Prompto: brrrr! Freezing my a$$ off this morning

A selfie instantly followed: Prompto in a warm jacket and white beanie, grimacing up at the camera with a steaming coffee cup clutched in his gloved hand.

Noctis: heh. nice pic. whatcha drinking?

Prompto: mocha moogle latte. Yummm ;P

Noctis: all that sugar is gonna give you a headache

Prompto: hahaha yeah, probably. but i need some caffeine. i couldnt sleep all night thinking about that presentation!!!! ｡゜(｀Д´)゜｡

Prompto: so we still getting snowed in tonight?

Noct's smile widened. It wasn’t often that Shiva graced the arid landscape of Lucis with her affections, but at least once a year, snow fell on the city of Insomnia. Sometimes it was a few flakes, sometime just sleet. On rare occasions, such as the one predicted by Insomnian weather channels on this particular day, it was a blizzard.

Noctis: heck yeah! hope you're ready to binge some King’s Knight.

Prompto: ugh am i ever. so ready to chill after getting this presentation out of the way…

Noctis leaned back in his chair, brow furrowing. He cast a quick glance at projector screen down at the front of the hall: a slide about the Lucian civil war.

Noctis: y? U nervous?’

Prompto: yeah

Prompto: stomach hurts

Prompto: p sure im gonna throw up

Noctis: relax, prom

Noctis: you've been practicing a lot, right?

Noctis: you're gonna be great

Prompto: dude you have no idea what id give to hear you say that rn

Prompto: i wish we still went to the same school

Prompto: ｡゜(｀Д´)゜｡

A dull, tight ache formed in the center of Noct's chest. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the reply coming slower this time.

Noctis: me too.

Prompto: yeah...

Prompto: too bad my best friend has to go to a fancy schmancy ivy league school for geniuses (¬‿¬)

Noctis rolled his eyes.

Noctis: im not here cuz im a genius, prom

Prompto: his majesty is sooooo modest ;)

Noctis: srlsy

Noctis: im like most of the ppl here. average.

Noctis: the only genius ive met so far is specs

Prompto: lol youre just saying that to make me feel better

Noctis: nah. youre way cooler than like half of the people here

Prompto: ♥‿♥

Prompto: too bad i cant afford the tuition lol. id kill to have iggy as my teacher

Noctis glanced up from his computer. From his own seat in the center of the hall, Ignis was just a small figure behind an even smaller podium. Still, Noctis had to admit that Specs was definitely in his element at the front of a classroom. His fitted grey sweater, crisp collar and perfectly coiffed hair were every bit the image of the up-and-coming academian. The freshmen in the front row hung dreamily on every elegant gesture of his gloved hands as his voice rang out through the hall, crisp and clear as water. He said something that sent a murmur of laughter through the rows of desks. Noctis smiled.

Noctis: yeah its not bad

Prompto: duh!! hes probably way cooler than all of my professors combined

Prompto: anyway, g2g. Gonna try to run through my presentation one more time before class starts

Prompto: (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`)

Noctis: dont worry prom. Youre gonna kick this presentation in the ass.

Prompto: thanks dude

Prompto: catch ya later

Noctis let his gaze linger on the final message, Iggy’s melodic tones lilting in the background. He tuned in long enough just to get the gist of the topic (ugh - still on the Lucian civil war). He turned his attention back to his laptop and clicked on an open tab, which took him directly to Prompto’s ChocoGram feed. There weren’t any new updates, but that didn’t stop him from smiling as he reviewed some of the earlier posts: Prompto getting ready to dig into a steaming, greasy pizza; a #tbt selfie featuring the baby chocobo they’d helped rescue during their summer road trip to Lestallum; a prank-selfie with a drooling, sleeping Gladio. Noctis chuckled. He’d been there when Prompto had taken that one. Even Gladio had agreed that the shot was just too good not to share.

He continued scrolling. A bunch of people Noctis didn't know, probably at a party; a filtered, black-and-white shot of a glistening, neon lit alley; a selfie with some guy Noctis had never seen before; a picture of the school’s mascot, tagged #gocactuars; Prompto wearing glasses…

Wait a second.

Noctis scrolled back to the photo of Prompto and the stranger. “Hanging with the coolest TA around,” read the caption. Tagged: #whenyourfriendhasthesamemajor, #collegelife #insomniaboys.

Friend, huh?

Noct’s eyes narrowed. He silently listed off any names he’d heard Prompto mention over the past semester as he analyzed the man’s features: platinum hair; a strong chin; sharp, intelligent eyes whose color he couldn’t quite discern through the ChocoGram filter. He let the cursor hover over the smug, obnoxious grin. A tagged username appeared: “Ghiranzenator.”

Before Noctis could really stop to self-reflect, he was scrolling through Ghiranzenator’s feed. It was the kind of content you’d expect from a twenty-something with a pompadour and generic good looks. Gym selfies tagged #fitnesslifestyle; poses in scenic, well-known locations captioned with thought-provoking yet totally irrelevant quotes (ugh, so pretentious). He wondered how Prompto even knew this guy. Was he the TA for one of Prompto’s classes? Did they have mutual friends? If so, why hadn’t Prompto mentioned him before? But now that Noctis thought about it, like really thought about it, he hadn’t really heard Prompto say a whole lot about any of the new friends he was making at school.

Wasn't that kind of weird?

A crumpled wad of paper plummeted through his thoughts, ricocheting off his forehead. Noct's head snapped in the direction it had come from. His eyes were met by a vision of Gladio, squeezed into a desk barely large enough to accommodate his lanky frame.

“Pay. Attention,” he mouthed, cocking his head in Iggy’s direction.

Noctis scowled. That was the one downside of having his bodyguard disguised as a classmate. Gladio was just all too ready to make sure Noct behaved like a good little student. The plus side was that Noct had at least one friend who could commiserate with his suffering.

Like now, for instance. A fan club member from the front row was monologuing, earning exasperated looks from his classmates. Noctis and Gladio exchanged a few muffled snickers.

“Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us, Cleetus,” Ignis cut in, his voice laced with a strain so barely audible that Noct and Gladio were probably the only ones who even picked up on it. “As you have noted for us, it is quite interesting that most rebel demands would be considered centrist by modern standards. However, we should recognize one deconstructionist philosopher whose theories remain polarizing even to this day.”

Ignis went to the next slide. A portrait of a wide-jawed man with a face only a mother garula could love brooded down from the display screen.

“Oh great,” Noctis muttered, drawing a confused look from Gladio. “Not this guy…”

"Regulus Invicta," Ignis continued, "is remembered as one of the strongest advocates for freedom of speech throughout the history of Lucis. However, what is less commonly remembered are his persistent demands for the de-establishment of the monarchy in favor of what we would now refer to as a democratic socialist republic. Even during the Lucian civil war, Invicta was a controversial figure. At first his philosophies were embraced by the deconstructionists, who sought to overthrow the Lucis Caelums in favor of a fragmented nation-states ruled by regional noblemen. They were less in favor of his leanings toward a democratic socialist republic. Despite this difference of opinion, Invicta was one of the few intellectuals of his time that insisted on the right of deconstructionists to espouse their ideals without punishment or censorship. Unfortunately, this insistence, combined with his involvement with radical circles, led to his eventual imprisonment. He would die of consumption shortly thereafter.”

A hand shot up - the same wind-bag from before.

“Yes, Cleetus?” Ignis’s smile was tight.

“Professor Scientia, as you were speaking I couldn’t help but remember an essay I came across in the Lucian History Journal the other day. The article was about the evolution of Lucian collective memory of the civil war.”

Gladio chuckled. “Oh boy. Here he goes again. This guy really can’t stop himself, can he?”

Noctis wasn’t laughing. He wanted Ignis to get back on topic and finish explaining why Invicta and the deconstructionists were wrong.

“According to the arguments propounded throughout the essay” - Gladio actually snorted at this point - “collective opinion regarding Invicta and the deconstructionists split after Lucis became a constitutional monarchy. Invicta was distanced from the deconstructionists and by means of propaganda -”

Bells went off in Noct’s head. Propaganda? What was this guy trying to get at?

“ - and state sanctioned school curriculum -”

Noctis gripped the arms of his desk, knuckles whitening.

“ - Invicta gradually became celebrated as one of the fathers of free speech. Meanwhile, his links to deconstructionists were covered up, preventing further instability to Lucian society while conveniently appropriating the parts that aligned with contemporary values.”

He paused for a breath. Ignis stepped out from behind the podium, quick to seize back control of the conversation.

“Your statements indicate a very post-modern interpretation of the historical records, Cleetus,” he remarked politely. “It’s interesting that you bring up social instability. Although not as commonly espoused today, there are ideologues who from time to time self-identify as deconstructionists. However, they are often ridiculed by both leftists and conservatives, rarely gaining any political legitimacy. In this way, the general public remains largely unexposed to contemporary deconstructionism outside of the occasional satirical representation on late night TV shows or the funnies.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

There was a rustle as heads turned in Noct's direction. Ignis adjusted his glasses.

“Is there something you would like to share, Prince Noctis?”

Shit. Gladio slid down low in his seat, muttering something that sounded a lot like, “Smooth move, Noct.”

Noctis cleared his throat. His cheeks felt like two flames. “N- not particularly.”

“Very well.” Ignis returned his attention to the slides. Noctis averted his eyes, only to be met by the expectant gazes coming his way from the next row down. His gaze happened to fall on Cleetus, he shot him a particularly snide smirk from over his shoulder.

Something in Noctis snapped.

“It’s just that, you said ‘satirical.’”

Ignis stopped mid-sentence. Scandalized whispers rippled throughout the hall. Gladio was actually facepalming. Meanwhile, Noctis’s cheeks somehow managed to get even hotter. He felt the need to continue.

“I just thought - well, it sounds like you think those depictions are kind of inaccurate, or something.”

Gods, he was sounding extremely upset and defensive right now, wasn’t he? What had happened to all that training in diplomacy and public speaking? Embarrassing.

“Satire is merely a genre, your highness," Ignis demured. "One that hyperbolizes a real-life topic or theme with intent to criticize, ridicule or expose. We may identify this genre from a neutral standpoint without either validating or condemning the arguments contained within the work itself.”

Noctis schooled his expression so it’d look like he’d understood this last bit.

“But you said the satirical representation is the only representation people see. Doesn’t that imply that there’s another representation that most people don’t get to see?”

“There normally is more than one side to every story,” Ignis said lightly, and his lips curved in such a smug, handsome grin that Noctis could have chucked his laptop at him.

“Yeah, but sometimes one side has better evidence than the other one. Shouldn’t that also be part of the discussion?”

He was pressuring Ignis to agree with him, to say that the deconstructionists were “wrong” and the monarchy was “right” and therefore Noctis was right, too. That the deconstructionists were just radical, terrorist nutjobs whose hogwash theories did more harm than good, so why even bother discussing them at all? Noctis knew it. Gladio knew it. Most of all, Ignis probably knew it.

So why were they still disagreeing?

“Indeed. However, the objective of today’s lecture is merely to review the deconstructionism as an historical movement. I will leave the evaluation of the ideas espoused by said movement to all of you in your term papers.”

A smattering of chuckles. Oh yes, how adorable, how clever. Noctis opened his mouth to let loose another retort when Gladio nudged his foot.

"Let it go," he mouthed with a slight shake of his head. Noctis grit his teeth with an audible “tch,” nails biting into the surface of his palms. He deliberately avoided Gladio’s gaze, instead fixing his attention on his laptop. The Ghiranzenator taunted him from the other side of the screen, all chiseled jawline and knowing smile.

Noctis closed the laptop with a ‘snap.’

PT. II: 13:00 hours

“I was too hard on him, wasn’t I?”

The words were out of Ignis’s mouth before Gladio had even stepped through the door. The office was tiny - more like a closet, really. Gladio tossed a small paper bag onto the desk and pulled up a seat, careful not to spill the coffee in his other hand.

“What’s this?” Ignis asked, peering owlishly from behind his computer. Gladio handed over the coffee.

“Thought you could use a pick-me up," he replied. "And nah; Noct is tough. He gets worse from me during an average training session.”

“You’re just saying that,” Ignis mumbled, raising the cup to his lips and taking a sip. “Mmm, Gladio, this is delicious. Thank you.”

Gladio crossed his legs, leaning back with a pleased smile. “Heh. Thought you’d like that. And no, I’m not just saying that. Noct is pissed off, but he’ll live. Try some of the scone.”

Ignis reached into the paper bag obediently. “I should have waited until after class,” he muttered. “Or warned him about the topic before hand.”

“Yeah, that probably would’ve helped.”

“I just don’t want to allow him more special privileges than I already have! How am I supposed to prepare him for his future responsibilities if I keep treating him differently from the other students? Can you imagine, just last night he actually asked me to check his homework!”

“Did you?”

“What do you think?” Ignis snapped. “We live together for Eos’s sake, of course I did!"

“Yikes. How’s the scone?”

Ignis scowled. “You really must stop bringing me sugar. This is why my skin is breaking out.”

“One bite won’t hurt, prince charming.”

Ignis broke a off a tiny piece and popped it into his mouth, but not before shooting Gladio a glare.

“Relax, Iggy. Just give Noct a little time to cool down, think things through. He’ll come around.”

Ignis gave him a doubtful look. He took another bite.

“At least this scone is palatable.”

Gladio flashed him a cheeky smile. “Does that mean you’ll raise my grade professor?”

“I’ll consider it. After all, for an auditing student you do have unusually consistent attendance.”

“Someone’s gotta show up and keep the crown prince in line. Who better than his protector and professional babysitter, the royal shield?”

“Pity you have to sit through my lectures. I imagine it’s dull.”

“Nah. You’re way more interesting than the profs I had during my undergrad.”

‘A lot easier on the eyes, too,’ he thought. His gaze lingered on Ignis’s full, rosy lips before silently flickering away.

“There’s no need for flattery, Gladio. It’s not like I can actually give you credit for the course.”

“Sorry. Guess your little front row fan club is wearing off on me.”

Ignis reddened. He took a hurried sip of coffee, obviously stalling. Gladio grinned, letting himself indulge in the rare sight of a flustered Ignis.

“If the students show enthusiasm,” Ignis began, once he’d finished composing himself, “it is merely due to the engaging nature of the subject.”

“Oh, right. Lucian history makes me blush and squeal, too.”

“Did you come here for the sole purpose of force feeding me scones and distracting me from my work?”

“Why, is it working? Just kidding,” he added quickly at the stern look he received. “Actually, I thought we should touch base on our lovely royal charge’s training schedule over the Solstice. Iris has been bugging me about plans. She wants to invite the entire Amicitia clan over for a get-together.”

“Let me pull up my calendar.” Ignis swiveled in his chair, facing the computer monitor. Gladio contemplated his profile, thrown into sharp relief by the glow of the LED back-light. A million potential lines ran through his head. ‘It should be illegal to be so gorgeous.’ ‘You ever seen an angel up close? Because those cheekbones are high enough to graze the heavens.’

“Got any plans for the Solstice, Iggy?”

“I’m hoping to finish drafting my thesis proposal,” Ignis answered, with a light click of the mouse. “I’d also like to try my hand at a leiden sweet potato casserole. See if I can get Prince Noctis to eat something other than meat for a change.”

Gladio snickered. “Good luck with that last one. By the way, what’s your thesis about again? Food politics - “

“ - with Duscae as a case study for increased multifunctionality in agricultural policy making, yes.” Ignis spared him a brief glance, eyes crinkled with amusement. “I’m impressed you remember.”

‘Course I do,’ Gladio thought dismally. ‘I’ve Moogle searched every article you’ve ever published.’

Fortunately, he was spared the need to reply. One more click of the mouse, and Ignis was tilting the monitor in his direction.

“There we are. So, which dates does Iris have in mind?”

“She’s really got her eyes set on the day of the Solstice, as well the day right before and after. She needs me to help cook, put out decorations…”

‘Basically all the stuff we used to do when mom was around,’ he thought.

“I see. Why don’t I just make a note on my calendar for now? We can continue meeting as planned for the next two weeks. When it comes time, we'll evaluate how Noct is doing. Perhaps it won’t even be necessary for us to meet over the week of the Solstice.”

“Thanks Iggy. I appreciate it.”

“Certainly. It’s imperative that you spend quality time with your family over the holidays, uninterrupted.”

His smile was sad. Of course; Ignis didn't really have any family around to celebrate with. Gladio jiggled his knee, hesitating.

“H-hey, Iggy,” he began cautiously. “Y’know, if you don’t have any plans for the Solstice, you’re always welcome to - “

“Ah, Ignis! Just the man I was looking for.”

Ignis stood as two people Gladiolus had never seen before entered the office. The first was an attractive, bespectacled woman with golden hair swept back in an elegantly casual updo. Gladio, always the gentleman, rose instantly to his feet, pushing in his chair and squeezing back against the bookshelf in an effort to free up some space for her in the tiny room. She was followed by a pale young man who stood shoulder to shoulder with Gladiolus, which was a rare enough occurrence. What was really odd was Ignis's reaction. He blanched as the man entered. Then he was turning away to face the woman, almost as if he'd never even noticed the other visitor at all.

“Dr. Trepe! To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Her lips curved in a perfect cupid’s bow. “Ignis, dear, how many times must I remind you? Call me Quistis. Anyway, I was just giving Prince Ravus a tour of the department.” She gestured toward the man beside her.

Oh - so that’s why he looked familiar. Gladio had often seen the royal Nox Fleuret duo on magazine covers or on TV. Ravus cut a striking figure in person, with his wintry complexion and dual colored eyes. He seemed to resent being watched, interrupting Gladio’s examination with a peculiarly frigid glare.

“Prince Ravus will be joining our department as a research scholar next semester,” Quistis explained. “Your majesty, Ignis is a grad student and TA in our department. As you may be aware, he also serves as the royal advisor to Crown Prince Noctis. He’s quite the feather in the department’s cap.”

Gladio beamed, eyeing Ignis with pride. What he saw surprised him. Iggy’s shoulders were tense, his face frozen in a mask of false politeness.

Something was wrong.

“Thank you, Dr. Trepe. As it stands, I’ve already had the good fortune of making Mr. Scientia’s acquaintance.”

Gladio’s eyes snapped in Ravus’s direction. His expression was unreadable, but his tone of voice suggested that whatever fortune had been at play was anything but “good.”

“Indeed.” Ignis mustered a weak smile. “I’m honored his highness remembers me.”

Ravus flinched, the movement so quick it was barely perceptible. Gladio glanced between them. Whatever vibe was going on here, he didn't like it one bit. He asked the question before he could stop himself.

“How do you two know each other?”

Ignis gasped. “Oh, by the six - where are my manners? Dr. Trepe - “

“Quistis.”

“Quistis” - Ignis blushed - “and Prince Ravus, please allow me to introduce Gladiolus Amicitia, Prince Noctis’s sworn shield, as well as one of my dearest friends.”

Gladio’s chest swelled until it threatened to burst. He crossed his arms, lip quirking up into a satisfied smirk.

'Dearest friend, huh?'

“I see,” Quistis murmured, tapping her chin. Her eyes ran up and down Gladio’s frame with an openly appraising look. “I apologize for interrupting your discussion, Gladiolus. I doubt we made a very good impression.”

“Meeting a colleague of Iggy’s is never an imposition,” Gladio assured her. “Especially not when that colleague is as elegant and beautiful as yourself.”

Quistis blushed, blue eyes sparkling behind her spectacles. “I never imagined the royal shield was such a charmer. You’ll have to bring him around more often, Ignis.”

There was a momentary, infinitesimal fracture in Ignis’s facade. “Yes, well, I daren’t keep his majesty any longer," he said quickly. "I’m sure you’re both quite eager to continue the tour. Prince Ravus, it truly was a pleasure seeing you again. I look forward to our collaboration in the coming semester.”

“As do I,” Ravus snapped, his words laced with such venom that even Quistis sent him a mildly startled look. “Dr. Trepe, shall we?”

“C-certainly. Gladiolus, it was a pleasure. And Ignis, we’ll be seeing you tonight at the reception, won’t we?”

“Of course. The Grand Hotel Insomnia at six o’ clock, correct?”

“Not exactly ideal weather for an event, is it?” Gladio interjected, frowning. “The roads are supposed to freeze after seven.”

Ignis dismissed him with a breezy laugh. “Yes, well, you know what they say Gladio - the show must go on! Until tonight then, Dr. Trepe...Prince Ravus.”

He bowed at the waist. Gladio rushed to follow suit, but not before glimpsing the pain that flashed across the prince’s strange, distant eyes. Then he was gone, sweeping off down the hall without a word of acknowledgement. Quistis rushed after him. Gladio waited until he no longer heard the clicking of her high heels before he spoke.

“What was that all about?”

Ignis began fussing with the papers on his desk. “Dr. Trepe was introducing the newest addition to our department.”

“Who you just happen to already know.”

“Is that so odd? You and I often cross paths with royalty in our line of work.”

“Uh-huh.” Gladio approached the desk, leaning over and splaying both hands across the surface. “So, you gonna tell me how you two actually know each other?”

“I don’t see that it’s any concern of yours,” Ignis replied, voice unusually clipped. Gladio ignored the sting.

“I’m just curious - y’know, as a dear friend and colleague. Why so defensive?”

Ignis slammed down a folder, nostrils flaring. “Fine. Spring 752. I did a semester in Tenebrae. Prince Ravus was a student at the university. We made acquaintance.”

“And?”

“And what?”

Gladio shrugged. “Dunno. Just thought I sensed some hostility between you two.”

“Enough, Gladio!”

The outburst stunned them both. Gladio took a step back. He ran a hand through his hair, trying fiercely not to look as hurt as he felt. After a long moment of silence, Ignis heaved a sigh.

“Forgive me, Gladio. It’s just a rather...unpleasant story, if I’m being honest. I wasn’t expecting to meet him like this, and...I’d rather not talk about it all just yet.”

Gladio chuckled harshly. “Why are you apologizing? I’m the one being the asshole here. Sticking my nose in your business. But if you ever do feel like talking about it, or there’s any way I can help...just let me know.”

“Thank you, Gladio,” he said softly, and the smile he turned on him was so full of warmth and relief that it hurt to look at.

Gladio hurried to change the subject.

“You sure you’re good to go to this reception thing? Ravus will probably be there, too.”

“I’ll be fine. I merely need a moment to compose myself. I do apologize I won’t be able to join you at the gym today. I was quite looking forward to showing off my new gains.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. Gladio snorted.

“Save it for next time, hot shot. But seriously, Iggy - the roads are supposed to get pretty bad tonight. Call me if you need a ride.”

“Certainly; I’m sure Dr. Trepe would just love it if you popped by.”

“Iggy.”

“Don’t worry; I promise I’ll behave myself.”

“You better. Don’t wanna go setting a bed example for Noct.”

Ignis’s smile fell. Gladio rolled his eyes, reaching for the half-eaten pastry on the desk.

“Talk to ‘im,” he said through a mouthful of scone. “Better yet, feed him and then talk. He’s always in a better mood when his stomach’s full.”

“Oh Gladio.” Ignis shook his head. “If only I could be as certain as you are.”

‘But I’m not certain,’ Gladio thought to himself. The uncertainty followed him as he took his leave, wandering through the empty halls of the department alone. Noct could be stubborn, and Ignis had a tendency to cave in. Hopefully they'd be able to come to terms without too much of a fuss.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didnt see the figure rounding the corner, hurtling straight at him. He barely managed to come to a stop before they collided.

“Whoa there!” he exclaimed, stumbling backward. “My bad, are you - ?”

The charity in his voice withered and died as he looked up into the face of the passerby.

Ravus Nox Fleuret.

“Ahem. Pardon me, your majesty.” He stepped aside, the polite gesture a reflex after so many years as a retainer. Ravus, however, stood quite still, eyes fixed on Gladio intently - almost as if he were measuring him up.

Gladio’s jaw clenched.

“There a problem, highness?”

Ravus looked away, making a soft, dismissive noise in the back of his throat. He strode past Gladio with his nose held high, sharp footsteps echoing off the walls like a hailstorm. Gladio’s eyes narrowed, gaze following him over his shoulder. The uneasy feeling was back, creeping up from the pit of his stomach like clutching vines.

Whatever history Ravus and Iggy had together, Gladio had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t the good kind.

He tore himself away with a sigh.

“Forget about it,” he muttered firmly. “Iggy can handle himself. It’s not like you have any say in the matter, anyway.”

Still, it was a good thing he kept a spare set of clothes locked up at the campus rec facility. He was gonna need an extra challenging workout today.

TBC...

#gladnis #promptis #prompto argentum #noctis lucis caelum #ffx #gladiolus amicitia #ignis stupeo scientia #fanfic

17 notes · View notes

the-marvel-imagines-blog · 6 years

Text

Madness | Chpt. 5

Requests are Open

Chapter Title: “Thunder in the Rain”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Word Count: 7,968

Warnings: angst (I mean, when is it not angsty?), new character alert, also some kissing :*

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar�� | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

A/N: Y’all are my favorite people in the universe. Thank you so much for reading and enjoying what I’m writing. Even if not every chapter is you cup of tea, it means a lot to see that people are leaving likes, messaging me, reblogging, etc. I love you all so much! Also, please note that I have taken and will be taking a lot of creative liberties pertaining to these characters. This will be shown in excess during the upcoming chapters, so I just wanted to give a bit of a warning.

Tagged: @teddyboobear @alledeglyfunny (anyone who wants to be tagged can message me and ask. It’s not a problem at all)

As I walked away from him, a part of me hoped to hear some kind of regret in his voice or anything at all, even. Instead, I heard nothing. He was silent. Maybe I had to do what everyone had been telling me to do all along: let him go. In my heart, I knew what would have been best for me. I knew that I would have been safer and filled with less grief if I let him go and went to Midgard to be with the Avengers and her. I knew that she would undoubtedly fill the void in my heart that Loki left there, as she had been the one to fill it ever since he fell. Still, I felt responsible for him as well as the Nine Realms. I saw the damage he had done to the world we knew as our second home. His suit was black (the absence of light), gold (what had once been my favorite color), and green (his favorite color-the color of my eyes). He attacked the part of Midgard we had last been to together. It was a night of laughter and happiness for both of us and a memory that was now clouded with pain and darkness. He still used the daggers I had given to him before he left for a battle with Thor-a battle Thor talked the Allfather into keeping me out of, as I was still recovering from the last one.

A piece of me wondered if he had a reason. Maybe he truly didn’t care for me anymore, maybe he lied to me all those years, but for what? What did he have to gain from an orphan girl? He was a God, and I was just another Asgardian. There was nothing extraordinary about me. If he wanted to manipulate someone for so long, why wouldn’t he choose someone with more power? I had to believe that it was more than that. I had to believe that there was something else that I just wasn’t seeing clearly. He was still in there. The man I knew was still holding on and fighting back this new version of himself. I didn’t know what happened or what made him turn on me so quickly, but I had a few theories of my own. Perhaps he found out about my secret from Odin that day, but I still didn’t even know how Odin would know in the first place. Maybe he fell out of love with me quicker than I had ever anticipated he could. I didn’t understand, but it wasn’t for me to try to figure out in the middle of the night when I was still sick from the ale that evening.

I made my way up to the training grounds, casting the illusion just long enough to make it past the guards. Once my eyes were dried, I dropped the illusion, finally visible again. I lifted a dulled sword from the rack and walked over to one of the training dummies before taking out every ounce of anger, frustration, and pain on it. I didn’t need to build my skills with the sword anymore. However, I knew to practice regularly to stay nimble. Tonight, however, was simply to hit the dummy as hard as possible to make my muscles sore. I just wanted to make myself tired enough that I could fall asleep for the rest of my life, and if I couldn’t achieve that, I at least wanted to be tired enough that when I laid down in bed, I could fall asleep immediately. I didn’t want to think of his harsh words or the way he glared at me like it was my fault he fell in the first place. I didn’t want to think of the mistakes I had made or the grief I felt over the loss of a man who meant so much to me.

Listening to the loud crack as my sword hit the dummy over and over again helped drown out the sorrow in my heart and the voices in my head that were even more cruel than Loki could ever even hope to be. As I growled, I thought of every moment in my life that I felt anger, every moment I felt alone, every moment I felt weak. I thought of the night he told me he hated me, the fall, when I saw him on Midgard, when I left her, when Tony Stark shed a tear for me, when she cried. There were so many moments, but they all came rushing back as the wall I had built up to keep them away finally broke down and crumbled into nothing. Suddenly, I heard a loud crack and opened my eyes to see that my last swing of the sword had been too successful, as the blade lay broken on the ground.

“For a woman as peaceful as yourself, you sure like breaking swords when you’re angry,” Thor’s voice rang out from behind me.

I whipped around, surprised by his presence. I hadn’t heard him coming, and I certainly didn’t feel him because of my clouded thoughts. As soon as I looked at him, my mind quieted once more. He was a peaceful soul with eyes as deep as the oceans. He leaned against one of the pillars with his arms crossed over his chest. His robes cascaded over his broad shoulders, and he wore a slight grin upon his lips. I shook my head, dropping the handle of the sword, which would be of no more use, “I apologize if I woke you,” I murmured, attempting to walk past him. I was in no mood for speaking as my frustration had not been washed away completely.

He caught my arm before I could pass him, and as my chest continued to heave, he spoke, “you did not wake me, Lady Eva. I figured that after you visited Loki, you would come here,” he said, hinting at the fact that he already knew what I had been up to that night. My mouth gaped open as I searched for any possible explanation other than the one he proposed. Before I could lie, he continued, “my brother has been playing tricks on me since we were children. Do you not think I can tell? Plus, I’ve known you since we were children, and I knew you would go down to see him at some point,” he shrugged.

“I had to. You can be mad, you can tell the Allfather, you can do whatever you need to do, and I won’t be upset. All I ask is that you continue fighting for him the way I have,” I said, straightening my shoulders, “I will accept whatever punishment my King sees fit.”

“Your King will never know,” Thor replied in a hushed but stern voice, “I will not be speaking a word of this to my father. You did what needed to be done, something he doesn’t believe is worth the time or energy. You’ve looked out for my brother since we were kids, and I would’ve been ignorant to believe that you would just stop because of what happened on Midgard. You still see the good in him, and I admire that because I still love him just as much as you do,” he added, “how was he?”

I stepped back over to him, and he released my arm from his grasp. I motioned around the training grounds, “well, I’m out here, so it didn’t go as well as I had anticipated. He’s still hurting, and it continues to break my heart every time I see him. I can feel his pain just as I could before, but it’s amplified.I just don’t know if I can keep doing this to myself, Thor. I don’t know if I can keep trying to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. It would kill me to abandon him like this. His mind is chaos. He needs a moment of clarity, of peace, but...maybe I can’t give that to him,” I answered the best way I could.

“Who better to show him that moment of clarity than you?” he asked, gazing down at me with eyes that shined like the sun on my darkest day. While every other love I felt paled in comparison to that which I shared with Loki, Thor brought something else into my life, something more beautiful than life itself. He reminded me that life was not about power or status, it was about living. He had a love for all living things that matched my own, and I loved him all the more for it. Thor never pushed me away, “you have done so much for him, Eva. You may not think you’ve done enough, but you’ve done more than everyone else put together. You have sacrificed more than anyone else. All I know is that you need to take fate into your own hands sometimes. Maybe you find that you don’t want to wait for cooperation from Loki or the Allfather. All I know is that you have allowed others to control your destiny for too long, and it’s time for you to take your control back,” he added, “and if you need to talk or cry or scream, you know that I’m always here.”

My eyes filled up with tears, and I pushed them back, having cried more than enough over the situation. It felt like I couldn’t stop since the fall. It was that moment that I made the promise to myself: I would be weak no longer. I would weep over my situation no longer. I could mourn for the man Loki once was or give him no other option other than to accept my help. As my chest continued to heave due to the unchecked frustration, I grabbed the back of Thor’s neck and attacked his lips with my own. It was the only thing that felt right. It only lasted for a second before the shock forced him away from me, and he held me at a short distance. He cleared his throat, color filling his cheeks, “why did-what are you...we can’t do this when you’re still a bit drunk, Eva. I don’t know if this is you or the ale from earlier, but...you aren’t in the right state of mind for this right now,” he noted, chuckling to lighten the mood.

“Does that really matter anymore?” I asked, closing the space between us once more, and he allowed me, “I want this. Do you want this?” I asked, gazing up into his eyes.

He sighed, “you know I do, and you know I’ve wanted this for a long time. There’s a reason I haven’t done anything since we were young, though, Eva. You belong with Loki, and I don’t want to get in the way of that. I love both of you too much to ruin what you have,” he whispered, his arm snaking around my waist, telling a very different story than the one spilling from his lips.

“What do you think you would be ruining? The rubble of our love? Do you think you can shatter heart we shared anymore? Could you kill a flower that was already dead?” I asked, realizing that, while I loved Loki more than life itself, he loved me no longer, “I will love your brother until the day I die, but he has hurt me so much, I think I deserve a moment of happiness. I deserve to remember the sweetness of love, which is something I have forgotten the taste of for so long. Remind me...please,” I begged, grasping onto his robes in a desperate attempt to let him know that I would not hold anything against him.

He searched my eyes for any hesitation that could have been lingering there, but he found none. He found only loneliness and grief. Perhaps he felt sorry for me, or perhaps he was giving into urges that had lain dormant since our childhood. Either way, he kissed me. I threw my arms around his neck as he lifted me off the ground. I wrapped my legs around his waist, grunting lightly when he pressed me against the pillar he had been leaning on only moments ago. His lips were smoother than I had remembered them, and I could feel the areas he bit when he was nervous. As his left hand grasped my thigh, offering me an extra level of support aside from the pillar, his right hand steadied my face as he kissed me with more passion than I’d ever anticipated.

To my disapproval, his lips departed from mine, and he began to sprinkle kisses along my jaw and down to my neck, a place Loki always loved. As I squeezed my eyes shut, I forced the thought of him from my mind and focused on Thor. When he grazed his teeth against my neck, I arched my body into his, feeling a shiver run through me. As I arched into him, his arms wrapped around my body, squeezing me against him hard enough for me to feel every muscle and every crease even through the clothes. For the first time in such a long time, I felt small in someone’s arms. Aaldir, Hjalmar, and Loki always made me feel that way, like I never needed to worry when they were around. However, she had the opposite effect on me. I was the one to make her feel small, the one to protect her. Ever since her, I had not felt like the small one until now.

With one arm still draped over his shoulder, balancing myself, I grabbed his face with my other hand and turned his head so that he was looking into my eyes. I saw joy and desire and so much anticipation. I pressed my lips to his once more before pulling away and trailing kisses along his defined jaw and down to his neck. His hold on me tightened as I ran my lips along a sensitive spot. As I kissed him, he walked us down the hallway toward his chambers. He opened the doors with his back and shut them with his foot. When we were finally in the comfort of his room, he peeled me off of him and pushed me down onto the bed. I chewed on my bottom lip and laughed as his eyes scanned over my body.

Before I could react or speak, he joined me on the bed, nestling his body between my legs and proceeding to kiss me once more. As soon as I felt his warmth, Loki’s face flashed behind my closed eyes. I tried to blink away the tears in my eyes, but it was like he could feel my hesitance. He pulled away from the kisses and pushed himself off of me in an attempt to figure out where he had gone wrong. I shook my head, trying to collect myself, but I was failing miserably. The promise I made to myself such a short time ago was already being broken as I began to cry, “I’m sorry, Thor. I’m sorry,” I broke down, hiding my face in my hands. I felt so much guilt in that moment, so much anger at myself for being so stupid as to believe that I could just replace the love I received from Loki.

As soon as I began to cry, Thor crawled over to me and wrapped me up in his strong arms, “I know that you don’t want to hear this right now, but as your friend, I need to say it,” he stated as my body quivered and trembled in the arms of the man I wished I was meant to be with. If I was destined to be with Thor, my life would have been so much easier because he would have loved me from the very beginning until the very end. I wouldn’t have felt this pain. Maybe I was just cursed, though. Maybe it was my fault that Loki was hurt the way he was. Maybe I was at the center of his pain. Before my mind could continue down the darkened trail any further, Thor spoke, “I love you, Eva. I have loved you since before I can remember, and I’ve never stopped loving you. For a long time, I wished that you chose me instead of Loki. I wished that you would find happiness with me, but I always knew that you two were meant for each other. Even though it kills me to say it, you and I don’t belong together. You belong with Loki. You always have. And I can’t let my love for you ruin your relationship anymore than it already has,” he said, grief clear in his deep voice.

I shook my head, wiping my tears away as I found the strength to gaze up at him, “you didn’t ruin our relationship, Thor. You had nothing to do with this,” I murmured.

He sighed, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

*Thor’s POV*

I had been more surprised that she stayed after I told her the story of that day, more surprised than I was that she didn’t try to hit me. Instead, we shed tears together, and I sat with her until she fell asleep. After I told her what happened and apologized profusely, she lessened my guilt by being adamant about how it wasn’t my fault. Still, I could see the pain the truth brought her. She was heartbroken, and she went to sleep that way. A piece of me wished I had kept it from her, but it had been two years of her questioning why Loki turned his back on her, and I knew the truth.

Unable to sleep, I found myself with Heimdall in the Bifrost. Though even looking at the Bifrost brought Eva a sense of misery, she spent much time in the very spot I was standing, and I knew that it was because the her fear and sadness over that fateful day paled in comparison to love she had for the Midgardians and...her. She asked about them often, and Heimdall would always fill her in on the health and well-being of each of them. She was always the most concerned about Tony, the two of them having a special connection that I could not understand. Steve also held a special place in her heart, which I could understand much more. He was a soldier and always put the needs of everyone else above his own. He didn’t like to fight, but he did so that others could know peace. Eva did the same.

As I stood next to Heimdall, staring out at the stars, I felt his gaze shift over to me for a fraction of a second, “you told her,” he noted, clearly having cast his gaze upon us when he felt her distress. The two of them were connected the same way her and I were connected. It paled in comparison to Loki’s connection to her, but we could feel when something wasn’t quite right.

I nodded my head, “I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t keep it from her any longer. She deserved to know the truth,” I insisted, feeling guilty that I brought her to an even deeper level of grief but feeling hopeful that it would help her see the truth, that she had done nothing wrong, “she’s become far more destructive since Hjalmar’s death, and I sensed that she was spiraling. She’s lost so much. She blames herself for Hjalmar’s death, and she blames herself for Aaldir’s sorrow. She blames herself for Loki’s turn and believed it to have been her fault, like she could’ve stopped him from wreaking havoc on Midgard. She had every right to know the truth,” I added

“You are not wrong,” he stated, gazing back out at the stars, “she sacrificed so much for Loki, but I fear that she will now try even harder to free him, even if it means committing treason. She has no reason to show the Allfather anymore respect, for she now knows that he played a pivotal role in pushing your brother over the edge,” he added, and I gazed over at his solemn expression. He lowered his grief-stricken eyes, “I fear for her safety if she tries to disobey the orders of the King.”

“You have my word that I will do everything in my power to keep her from doing anything reckless, but she has never listened to me the way she listened to Hjalmar,” I said, thinking of one of my dearest friends, “how is he?” I asked, hoping for some words of comfort about Hjalmar’s new home in Valhalla.

Heimdall sighed, “I...cannot see him,” he confessed, hesitant to speak the words to me. I furrowed my eyebrows, confused as to how the gatekeeper and the guardian of the Nine Realms could lose track of someone. Before I could ask any questions, he turned his haunting gaze upon me, “I have searched for him, hoping to regale Eva with some stories of him when she came; however, I have not found him. I have searched every realm, every planet, every moon. I have searched the entirety of Valhalla, and I even looked for him in the Realm of the Dead. Still, I have found nothing,” he said, turning back to the stars, “I suggest keeping this between us for the time being. There is no need to put her through anymore pain right now,” he stated, strongly.

I nodded my head, “but what if she comes to you and asks about him?”

He frowned, the mere thought of it bringing a sour taste to his mouth, “then I will be forced to break the heart of a princess.”

*1 week later*

After another night spent watching over Eva and getting barely any sleep, I found myself standing beside my father, the man who was the cause of so much of her grief. She knew it now. She knew what he had done, and while I was surprised that she didn’t hate me for the role I had to play in Loki’s downfall, I was unsure of how generous she would be with my father. The two of us watched her as she practically danced around the training grounds with Sif and Ephinea. She hated fighting, but there was a side of her that came out when she fought that I had never seen before. She was skilled in battle the way no other man or woman could ever even hope to be. She blocked the attacks from each of the goddesses, and the two of them pulled no punches. Sif and Ephinea never went easy on Eva, so for Eva to hold her own against the Goddess of War and the Goddess of Strength, respectively, said so much about her skills.

As gracefully as she blocked what would have been a “finishing blow” from Ephinea, she began to take the offensive, swinging the dulled swords and moving like the ocean. I had gotten the chance to see her on the battlefield so many times throughout my life, and it always left me in awe. She had a plethora of her own weapons, many of which Aaldir had crafted for her or helped in the crafting process. He had given her two short swords that she used on occasion, and he also gave her the greatsword she used most of the time. Loki had gifted her a set of daggers, which were delicately crafted but stronger than anyone could anticipate due to their beauty. She danced around Sif and Ephinea, fighting both of them and successfully knocking them down and finishing them. After her success, she helped them back up onto their feet before starting again. I glanced over at my father, “she has grown far more skilled in the art of battle than even you could have anticipated,” I smiled, gesturing to her.

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips underneath his beard, “if this is how you plan to sway my mind on the matters she has brought up time and again, it will not work,” he reminded me.

I shrugged my shoulders, “it wasn’t my intention, but it would’ve been nice,” I stated, gazing upon the girl who was so strong but so broken, “she has a point, you know...about Loki,” I murmured, wanting my words to be between us. I watched as his eyebrows raised in shock, which was understandable as I had always been fairly quiet on the matter, never explicitly taking anyone’s side, “I don’t believe you to be delusional, which is why I think you know-as well as she does-that Loki doesn’t belong in the dungeons. He is far more dangerous around people who think like him. His mind was corrupted far more after he fell. Even if we could get him back to the way he was before, when he was only trying to take over the throne, instead of killing hundreds of innocent people on Midgard, it would be better than leaving him down there,” I explained, hoping that he would listen to me with an open heart and open mind, unlike when he listened to Eva make the same case about Loki.

He gazed over at me, the icy blue eye as solemn as ever, “so, you are proposing the same thing? I release Loki into Eva’s care, knowing that he is a weakness for her? Knowing that she could never do what needed to be done if it came to it?” he asked, “I simply implore you to think through every scenario,” he added, sensing that he had offended me.

I narrowed my eyes at him, knowing that he was not completely sincere, “no, you are asking me to doubt her. You are asking me to trust her less, but you don’t know her the way I do. You didn’t see her on Midgard the way I saw her. You have no idea what she has done-the sacrifices she has made-for the good of the Nine Realms, for the good of Asgard. You don’t see what she has given up, but I have,” I growled under my breath, angry that he would try to plant the seed of doubt in my mind.

He shook his head, “I do not wish for you to doubt her, but I do wish for you to look at this from a place of objectivity. If you did, you would have the same doubts I do,” he replied, a voice as calm as the breeze that morning.

“I can look at this objectively, and that’s why I believe she could take on this task. While we cannot go back and rewrite the past, she can turn the tides in our favor. If she were somehow able to turn Loki back to our side, think of what our strength could be with an ally like him! We would be much stronger with him as our ally than with him as our enemy,” I exclaimed, gesturing out at her, “look at her, Father! Truly see her for what she is! She’s no goddess, but she possesses the same skills as one. I don’t think this is coincidence. I truly believe that she is meant to be much more than another Asgardian woman.”

“You have much to learn about her, my son,” he frowned, trying to force a smile and failing. I watched as the look in his eye became distant, like he was revisiting a memory that brought him pain. He tried to push it away, but it lingered there.

I shook my head, “I know all there is to know about her. I know her better than I know myself most of the time,” I chuckled, gazing out at the woman I was in love with. For a long time, I fancied Ephinea and Sif. The two women were stronger than anyone gave them credit for, but I couldn’t talk to them the same way I could talk to Eva. Eva was just...special. I knew every little thing about her, even though I was sure my brother knew far more, things I couldn’t even imagine. I glanced back up at my father, “there’s nothing I don’t know,” I assured him, thinking of the many secrets she had hidden from him, secrets he would never even know.

“There is so much you don’t know about her, so much that you need to know,” he said, a sad smile spreading across his lips as he gazed out at her once more before stepping away from the railing and turning to face down the hallway, “walk with me and learn,” he motioned, and I obeyed, falling in step with him and casting one final glance back at Eva. Once we were far enough away from the prying eyes and ears of everyone else, he began speaking, slowing his pace, “before you or I, before my father and his father before him, Asgard was created. Where once there had been nothing, we received a land of beauty, peace, and salvation. This was the place where the Asgardians could call home, a place that was more beautiful and rich with life than any other, and we took it all for granted,” he explained.

“The land began to dry up. Where there had once been lush forests and beautiful mountains in the distance, it was barren. The Asgardians who lived her long ago took from the world but never thought to give back. They built this city upon her natural beauty, hiding the plentiful gifts she bore to them. The creeks and streams began to dry up. People believed that it was the world’s way of grieving. She had always provided for them, always gave more of herself than they could possibly take, but they did not rejoice as their ancestors once did. They took the gift of life for granted, and they took this realm for granted. They did not thank the world for her blessings, and they did not live their lives the way we were meant to,” he continued.

“The drought of the world continued. Food was more difficult to come by, and we were running out of fresh water. We began sending people to various realms to acquire what we needed and bring it back here. We had already stripped our world of all she had to offer, and we were doing the same with as many others as possible. Life was dwindling, and we were unsure about the future of Asgard,” he said before letting out a long sigh. When I cast my eyes over to his face, I saw that he was reliving a memory that haunted him, and a sadness came over him that I hadn’t seen before, “I had an older brother growing up, a man I’ve never spoken about, a man no one speaks of anymore,” he confessed.

I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering how it could be that an entire piece of Asgard’s history was lost to me, “I forbid his name to be spoken, and there are not many who remember him, not the way I do,” he frowned, “Cul was older, stronger, and much more capable than I was. He believed himself to be the rightful King of Asgard, and when my father-your grandfather-died, Cul took the throne for himself. My father had groomed me to take his place after he died, but my brothers and I allowed Cul to rule because of his promise to keep us as his close advisors, a promise he broke shortly after his coronation. He picked from a group of his loyal followers to be his advisors. It wasn’t until he took the throne that we saw just how twisted he was, how his desire to rule festered into a madness we had never seen before.”

As we walked into the throne room, he stopped and stared up at the golden throne for a long moment, “he ordered that we strip the other planets of their resources, and if we were met with hesitation, we were to take the resources by force. He wanted to make it clear that no one would stand in his way. A part of me wants to believe that he had good intentions, that he wanted to show the Nine Realms that Asgard was still a powerful seat. However, the more he took from other planets, the faster ours was dying, so my brothers and I did what needed to be done. We stopped him,” he said, frowning at the memory. I could tell that it brought him so much pain even recalling it, so I couldn’t imagine the pain he went through when he lived it so long ago, “there was a bloodbath in this throne room. My younger brothers fell that day along with so many others, and it came down to just Cul and I. He had sent his followers away to spare their lives because he knew I wouldn’t kill him, that I would spare his life because of the ancient rules, rules he never followed but rules I couldn’t break,” he explained, glancing back over at me.

I furrowed my eyebrows, “but you broke them on that day?” I guessed, hoping it to be true.

He shook his head, a few strands of white hair falling out of place, “I couldn’t, and it wasn’t because of the ancient rules. I couldn’t kill him because he was my brother, he wasn’t the King of Asgard, not to me. I couldn’t kill him because I could still remember running around the palace with him and getting in trouble for fooling around for too long when I should have been studying battle techniques. Instead, I banished him to the Realm of Death, hoping that Death would be able to do to him what I could not bring myself to do. It was where he belonged. He delivered so many souls to Death that day alone that he deserved to face them all once more,” he said, glancing back over at the throne and narrowing his eyes, “but if I could go back with the knowledge I have now, I would have killed him when I had the chance because-”

Before he could explain his reasoning, a booming voice caused the entirety of Asgard to quake beneath our feet. It was the first time in my life I saw pure fear in my father’s eyes, “Odin!”

*Eva’s POV*

I stood in the courtyard that overlooked the Rainbow Bridge. Thor and Odin stood side-by-side in front of Sif, Ephinea, Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg, and I. Behind us were members of Odin’s kingsguard. While I had not wished to even wake up at all that week-let alone see the Allfather-I stood there out of the love I had for Asgard and my willingness to protect the people from any intruder, including the one that stood before us with his battleaxe strapped to his back. He stood the same height as Hjalmar once did, only slightly taller than the God of Thunder himself. The man before us all held himself like a King with his shoulder straightened and his head held high. He looked massive, like he was a force to be reckoned with. I had never met him, but he looked so oddly familiar to me, like a face I had seen only once before.

Dark brown hair that matched his short beard fell in waves nearly as long as mine, but he pulled the strands from his face and fastened them behind his head to see clearly. Even from our distance, I could see myself clearly in his piercing green eyes. Those eyes were filled with so much anger, so much hatred, but they were still so beautiful and pure...a green that matched the colors of spring. My breath hitched in my throat, and it felt like I was going to suffocate. I knew those eyes. I knew them from somewhere, and when he spoke, I began trembling with unchecked fear, “I am Ezra, son of Cul, and I have been sent here by my father, Cul, son of Bor, the rightful heir to the throne of Asgard. I have been instructed to deliver a message to the usurper, your false king,” he spat out, grimacing at Odin. I was shocked by his words, unsure whether or not they were truthful. I had never heard of Odin having any brothers aside from Vili and Ve, and neither of them had any children of their own. It was clear by the looks on the faces of my comrades that I was not the only one who was confused by his claims.

Even if he did, Odin was our King, and for an outsider to show up in Asgard and insult the throne, it was unacceptable. While I was angry at Odin for justifiable reasons, I did not hate him, and I would still fight to protect Asgard and her people. As I made a motion to step forward, Ephinea put out her hand to hold me back. When I tried to pass her still, she grabbed my arm, making her movements as small and unnoticeable as possible to keep from gaining the attention of the the outsider. She gave my wrist a gentle squeeze, trying to remind me without words that this wasn’t the right time. The small motions still pulled the attention of Ezra, and he glanced over at me in particular. His green eyes scanned over my body, and he smirked, “you’re just itching to kill me, aren’t you?” he asked before glancing back at Odin, “I see why you keep some of your best warriors chained up in the dungeons-like your son. It must be terrifying to have this one roaming around,” he said, gesturing to me.

A fury erupted in my chest as he mentioned Loki. I gritted my teeth, my chest continuing to rise and fall at an alarming rate. Still, I remained silent, not wishing to escalate the situation. Odin spoke up, “did you come here to discuss the population of Asgard’s dungeons, or do you have another motive?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow with a mischievous grin. He was pulling a page out of Loki’s book, smiling in the face of danger. It was one of the things that made me love Loki even more, and it made me see Odin as so much more than I had been willing to in the past. In that moment, he became so much more three-dimensional than ever before. While he had forsaken Loki in the past and made his own mistakes, there was a piece of him that still loved the young trickster. When I saw him find his confidence the way Loki did, it made me think of the impact Loki’s actions must’ve had on the Allfather. While I wished to speak with Odin about it, I knew that this was neither the time nor the place for such discussions.

Ezra cast one more glance over at me with a smirk that made me sick to my stomach, but he turned his attention back to Odin when I grimaced at him, “my father sent me with his demands. In his exile, he has been building allegiances with many people within the Nine Realms and beyond, and I can assure you that none of them are particularly fond of Asgard. They would be willing and able to tear Asgard apart at my father’s command, but he is willing to go about this peacefully,” Ezra stated in a menacing tone.

“And what does Cul want in return for his promise of peace?” Odin inquired.

Ezra chuckled, stepping forward, “he wants the throne back, the throne you stole from him,” he growled, pointing a finger at the Allfather, “he demands you hand over the throne of Asgard, and in return, you will be exiled to the Realm of Death just like you did to him. As I see it, you have two options: you can surrender and meet his demands, which will lead to a peaceful life for your people; or, you can resist, which will lead to our return and the subsequent bloodbath that will take place. Either way, we will take the throne of Asgard, but your decision could save thousands,” Ezra said, offering Odin the ultimatum as if he was in any position to do that. He came to Asgard with no supporters behind him and threatened a King with the entire Asgardian army at his disposal.

Odin smiled at the man in front of him, and I saw the condescending undertones, causing me to smile as well. While I harbored some ill will toward him upon recent news, I could not bring myself to hate him or declare that he was a poor king. He held himself with strength and dignity, which was something that would not work in the strangers favor, “you forget the third option,” he smirked, and Ezra cocked his head, clenching his fists, “it’s where I let your armies come, and I defeat Cul just like I did all those years ago. I had no problem doing it then, and I won’t fail now. You do not look for peace, but I pity you if you try to fight us. We know much about what must be sacrificed to maintain peace, and I do not wish for a war. However, I will do what needs to be done should your father attempt to wage a war against Asgard and her allies,” he explained, “so, you can tell my brother that his proposition was met with resistance.”

Ezra chuckled, stepping even closer to Odin. As soon as he was too close, the entire army behind us drew their weapons, but Odin raised a hand, wishing to entertain the boy for even longer. I listened to the warriors lower their weapons, but they did not put them back in the sheathe. I glanced down at Thor’s hands that were balled up in fists. Ezra leaned in close to Odin and spoke, “well, I came here for your surrender, and I’m not about to leave empty-handed,” he murmured before stepping away from the two of them and pointing at me. Once more, his eyes trailed along every piece of my body before locking eyes with me, “I’ll take that one,” he dictated, closing the space between the two of us.

Before he could stand directly in front of me, Ephinea stepped between the two of us, “try to take her, and I will rip you in half with my bare hands,” she threatened, rage clear in her voice. She had always been like an older sister to me, so it didn’t surprise me that she would react like that to someone who was threatening my safety.

Ezra glanced over at her but then back at me, “call off your dog, pet,” he instructed, cocking his head to the side with a smile filled with false admiration.

I scowled at the nickname he decided to give me, and I felt a chill run down my spine at the thought that I could be traded off to ensure peace, even if that peace would be short-lived. Odin’s stunned silence was not helping ease my troubled thoughts, but I had to act with strength and grace just as I always tried to, just as my father taught me all my life. I raised my hand and rested it upon Ephinea’s shoulder as I stepped out from behind her. She gazed over at me, horrified and flustered because of my actions. She had no idea what I was planning to do or why I was planning to do it, but I offered her a short glance that I hoped would set her mind at ease. When I stepped between her and Ezra, he didn’t break eye contact with me. He smirked, one of his eyes twitching ever so slightly as he narrowed them at me.

He searched my eyes-for what, I didn’t know-and when he didn’t find what he was looking for, he grabbed my chin and brought his face impossibly closer to mine, “tell me, what is it you want, pet? Do you wish for acceptance? Strength? Power? A real family? A place where you belong?” he asked, “I’m sorry to break your heart, but you won’t find any of that here, not with the current ruler. And, what about Loki? I’m sure you want him back, too, don’t you?” he asked, causing my breath to hitch in my throat. How did Ezra know about Loki? How did he know about my deepest desires? As I stared up at him with wide eyes, terrified that he was able to pick me apart so easily. He raised his eyebrows, sympathy crossing over his face, “you have so much to learn, beautiful, and if you cooperate, we’ll give you the answers you seek and the opportunity to live out the rest of your life with Loki,” he murmured before grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling me even closer to him, “but should you fail, I will find your girl on Midgard and tear her apart in front of you just for fun!” he growled, my heart twisting and shattering into a million pieces before he pushed me down onto the ground.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Thor’s loud voice boomed, almost like thunder itself. I could barely think of anything aside from Ezra’s threat. I was paralyzed with fear at the very idea that enemies of Asgard knew about her, that they could use her against me. Thor spoke as I tried to collect myself, “you are sorely mistaken if you think we’ll just hand her over to you. Now, we have entertained this madness for long enough. If you try to take her, you will not live to see another sunrise,” Thor promised, glancing down at me and nodding his head. I knew that I would have nothing to fear with Thor by my side. Even if Odin, for some reason, wanted to send me away, Thor would betray his father just to keep me safe.

Ezra chuckled again, laughing in the face of the God of Thunder, “I haven’t seen a sunrise in nearly 300 years,” he confessed, and a piece of my heart broke for him. I couldn’t help but see small pieces of Loki in him, the anger, the pain, the hate. I had nothing to compare Ezra to, though. I knew the man Loki used to be, so I knew that pieces of him were still alive. Still, everyone could be saved, and that included the enemies of Asgard. Ezra continued, “no matter! I’m used to taking what I want by any means necessary, and I don’t lose,” he said before unsheathing his axe in one swift motion and swinging it down toward Thor.

In the split second it took Ezra to begin the attack, I jumped up to my feet and drew Hellbreaker, one of the many swords my father had helped forge for me. Right before his blade could graze my prince, I stepped in front of it, catching the handle of his battleaxe with the blade of my sword and stopping him from hurting Thor. His eyes widened in clear astonishment. I was sure someone like him didn’t anticipate anything extraordinary, especially not from the person he nicknamed “pet” only moments prior. I pushed him away from the Thor and I, “you don’t lose?” I asked, grinning up at the intruder, “well, neither do I!”

37 notes · View notes

bloodycassian · 3 years

Text

Enemies and Allies - Reader + Night court. the concept:

enemies forced together in alliance to save their courts. Politics, tension, "Once we're done here I will be the one to kill you." slow burn reader x an Illyrian? Not sure who yet

Part 1 of a possibly reoccurring fic.

You never liked dealing with other courts, but Rhysand and Tamlin were possibly the two worst high lords to deal with. Helion would have been up there too if he wasn't so damn charming. And Beron didn't even count, considering he was your uncle. He was annoying automatically. And a damned fool for not showing up to the funeral. Tamlin was a brute shoved into power much too early. You could tell just from the way he carried himself. No nobility, no grace. Just the brutal beast that lurked under his skin. The way he didn't bother leaving any flowers along the coast line was further proof of his childish ways. Rhysand was the polar opposite. The epitome of arrogance, grace, poise and political power. All words and strategy, enough to make you double take every time he opened his mouth. Constantly on the lookout for hidden meaning or loopholes in his word choice. He made your heart race with stress. His spymaster and general though, were like two neutral, yet menacing gargoyles on either side of him. They were unsettling, especially with the shadows that crept over the spy. You tried not to stare at those curling around his shoulders, or the dull siphons that laid on each of their hands. Or the wings. The wings would have been the worst part if there weren't other winged generals at the funeral. Peregryns guarded their high lord, one at each side much like Rhysand. Only they radiated sunshine, and light and goodness. Still terrifyingly deadly, though. Their polished armor and ceremonial scepters glinting from the overcast skies. "A funeral should be a celebration... of the life that was. Please, join us." Tarquin said, voice thick. His mate's lip quivered. The ocean crashed against the sand, scooping up the flowers left to honor his son. Your heart squeezed at the tone change in his voice. The way he struggled to hold himself together for his court. Vivienne turned from the crowd, and Tarquin followed. Her dark hair moved like water over her thin frame. They held each other for a long moment while the Summer court guards ushered guests to the large open beach house. You hesitated, looking out towards the ocean as it roiled. The dark water churned, seagulls overhead made no sound as they passed. "Its been a long time, Autumn." The sultry voice was enough to make your skin crawl. He had kept the nickname since he'd met you. And in the two hundred years since. He did not forget such a remarkable introduction. Especially of someone who had your kind of power in an opposing court. His eyes flashed with amusement when you turned, plastering on a charming smile. "I would have preferred longer, but the Cauldron works in strange ways sometimes." You retorted, and began walking away from him, grinding your teeth when he followed with ease. He laughed and nodded. "Indeed it does, with the passing of Tarquin's only child." the not question was leading, looking to see if you knew anything of the murder. Anger spread though you at the subtle accusation. You couldnt let it show. You had to keep your calm. Or he would surely suspect something of you. You could practically see the accusation scene play out when Night court invaded Autumn on Summer's behalf. Claiming that Autumn had killed the boy. "A parent should never outlive their own child." You said mournfully. You knew from experience how it ruined families after such a loss. When you snuck a glance at his face, you could have swore you saw pain there. A longing that you didnt understand coming from him. It almost made you feel bad for him. You jolted yourself, forcing your mind to focus upon on your steps in the sand. He paused for just a second before opening the bungalow door for you, inviting you to the wake. All courts dressed in mute tones of their colors, not one dared to raise their voice above the hushed murmurs. Rhysand gave a nod to his two generals in the corner, standing like statues. "I'll be seeing you then, Autumn." His eyes met yours and you swore you saw something linger there. Before you could tell him to knock it off with the nickname, he was weaving his way across the room to the two Illyrians. Stopping every so often to give grim smiles to the families of Summer Court. His actions seemed genuine in nature. You dared not reach out a mental hand to him though, knowing you might not return with it intact. + "And what of Night court?" Beron's slurred words were familiar. The old man had been wasting away in his own filth for years. After the Lady of Autumn disappeared, he had nothing left to keep him in line. His sons - Eris namely- made the important decisions in the court, but he still acted as ruler. The figurehead for important events and nothing more. He had also become obsessed with the innate abilities of all the other high lords. Constantly comparing his own lingering power with the others. In two hundred years, his body had seemed to begin to wither. Directly after your birth, some said. And cursed you for their ruler's demise. After the shame of being one of the few courts to refuse to help win the war, Beron had given up completely. Still power hungry, but no longer driven. "Night court seems to be fine. Not shaken by the murders." You surmised as best you could after your short interaction with the High Lord. "Was it's high Lady there?" He asked with a grunt of a laugh. He was always undermining the role, laughing whenever you mentioned seeing the lady of Night. "She was not. I believe she was taking care of the babe, as the two generals were there." He shook his head, his gray hair falling in his face. "As a female should." You fought not to cringe or bite back at him. Even if he was your uncle, Beron would be a fantastic target if there was, in fact a murderer loose in Prythian. You shooed the tratirous thought away. "Tarquin and Vivienne send their regards." You said, hoping he would allow you to take your leave. You glanced around to the cavernous space that encapsulated the dark throne room. The banners on the wall seemed lacking in color. Years of dust likely growing on them. The cracked stone floor showed its age as well, moss growing in the corners. He refused to let anyone touch up the dim room after his wife had gone. Echoing steps sounded behind you. You turned on your heel calmly, but gripped your sword. Ready to defend your High Lord if needed. Your mouth fell open at the sight of The Morrigan striding down the long hall. Eris on her heels behind her. She was a beacon of light among the dull ancient stone walls. Eris had a wicked grin on, eyes locked on his father. + "The Queens have been killed." She announced, no wavering in her tone. Your stomach hit the floor. Beron said nothing, didnt show any reaction in the slightest. As if he already knew. "And they sent you so I could be assured the court of Nightmares isnt lying?" "They sent me because I saw to their end personally." Eris even glanced at her with the tone she used. She leveled a look at Beron. He waved a hand, as if the Night court commander hadn't just announced that the biggest enemies to Prythian were dead."Cut off the head of the snake and more appear." He coughed after the shrug, his breathing labored. Eris hid a pained look that you knew all too well. The denial of his father's life coming to an end in front of him. You could have balked at him for the outright insult but kept your mouth shut. "High Lord.." you began, wanting to consult him on the weight of the situation. He glared at you, that familiar piercing stare that told you to stop whatever you were doing. As a child, that stare was enough to make you behave. You didn't dare think of what more than a stare Eris had to go through during his childhood. Eris' jaw clenched before he began "Father, the Queens no longer pose a threat. This would be the perfect op-" "Enough, boy!" Beron's voice echoed in the hall. Your cousin's face went red with shame. Fear settled in your stomach. If Beron had no plan for moving forces to the continent to stablaise, there would be a power struggle. Even you knew that. "You assume I dont have a plan. We can discuss this when there are no wandering eyes or ears present." His tone was softer, but still laced with that High Lord's authority. Mor's eyes could have killed them if she had the ability. She snorted, and turned on a heel to leave. Her footsteps echoing in the long hall. "The Night Court's whore, going back to where she belongs." Beron mused to himself. She stopped dead in her tracks. Eris' face went pale when she turned. Your palms went sweaty at her eyes, like two daggers looking at him. She held up a hand. Light flashed, and suddenly there was a razor thin spear flying through the air. You ran at The Morrigan before you knew what you were doing. Your hands were a flurry of movement as you tried to keep her down. Eris just watched, unable to move as he watched death race for his father. A wet splatter, and Beron's chest was punctured by that golden spear. His mouth leaked blood, his eyes closing. Eris was rooted to the spot. Your body locked up, and Mor shoved you off of her with a grunt. She wasnt trying to win the fight, she could have obliterated you in a second if she was. You felt like you weren't in your body. She stood, wiping the blood from her face. You didnt remember hitting her that hard. Your mouth was dry, mind buzzing. Mor waved her hand again and the spear was gone. "Have all the power you want, Eris. Our deal has been struck. Send your forces to Rask by next week." She scowled at the body on the throne. The male you had just wished death upon. The reality of it made everything fuzzy. Eris was still pale, his eyes not looking away from his father. "We will see you there." He said, voice weak. Distant. You could only faintly hear Mor Winnow away. The roaring in your head was overwhelming. Your uncle dead on his throne. A hysterical laugh bubbled from Eris' chest. Only one, before you could catch his gaze and see the silent tears streaming down his cheeks. + "You killed the Queens and my father without consulting me first. I hardly think our deal was struck." Eris had been strange after his father's funeral. But for the first time since, you saw a glimpse of the old him. On the move to Rask, he had been that hollow shell he seemed like. Btu as soon as he laid eyes on Morrigan waiting at that tent, he seemed to put on more of a show. Inside the tent seemed too small. It was enormous, but with everyone inside it was too hot. Too cramped. The sun beating down did not help. The two Illyrians in the corner leering at you and Eris was not helping either. "A deal's a deal young Lord. I suggest you choose your words more carefully next time." Rhys winked. You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to hold back your tone. "You murdered him. I am being blamed for not guarding him well enough." Your reputation in the court had fallen. Several Royal court members had been rumoured of your position inside the court, if you should be banished because of the death. None of them knew what actually happened. You and Eris had agreed on a believable story though, whoever had murdered Tarquin's son also reached Beron the night of the funeral. "I did not murder him. My lovely cousin however, did." Rhys drawled with a cat-like grin. It made you see red. Azriel grinned behind him. Those creepy shadows of his seemed more transparent in the sun. Mor glanced to you, her eyes not betraying anything she felt of the kill. You were hoping she would show some remorse for the death. Heat roiled in your stomach at the lack of care. "Dont act so upset, Autumn." Rhys waved a hand, and you felt those clawd mental hands whisk across your shields. You snarled at him, reaching for your sword. You knew you couldnt win, even on your best of days. That didnt stop you though. Eris placed a hand on your arm. The two Illyrians had their siphon shields glowing in front of their high lord instantly. Rhys laughed calmly despite the tension in the room. "You did give Mor quite the cut however, and burn it seems. Call it revenge." He folded his hand on the desk, wiping away dirt that wasnt there. Azriel's siphons burned brighter. His wings tightened behind his back. Mor still showed nothing, only looking from her cousin to Eris. Tense, her shoulders and posture radiated the worry. The tension of the room. Eris' jaw locked. He pulled you, willing you to let it go. You weren't proud of the fight with Mor. You wanted Beron to have at least died in an honorable way. But in the recent years with him hardly leaving his seat at the throne or his room at the castle, it made the chance of him seeing battle again nearly impossible. "Maybe I should have done more." You muttered, sheathing your sword. The shadowsinger stepped forward, chest pushed out. His lips pulled back in a snarl, "Do not-" He began, voice a low threatening growl. "Azriel." Rhys said calmly, voice like honey. You grinned at the Shadowed one. Rhys sighed and waved his tattooed hand in the air. Wine glasses appeared on the table he sat at. "Let's begin the real discussion at hand." He said calmly, pouring a glass. You glanced to Eris. He hesitated, but strode forward, taking a glass and downing it. + Eris was nearly drunk by the time you helped him out of the tent. After the long hours of dribble and stale conversation about diving resources, you couldnt blame him for having a few extra glasses of wine. He tripped on the rug going out. You caught him, but noticed shadows lingering around his torso. "Get. Off." You hissed, Not looking back. The shadows lingered for just a moment, then skittered away. You heard something like a sigh come from one of them as you led your cousin to his tent.

#reader insert #enemies and allies #acotar #acotar fic

13 notes · View notes

vivilice · 5 years

Text

Regret (1)

No warnings

Genre: romance, Otherworldy, fantasy, LGBT+

A wind swept paper petals up towards the sky. A grand castle surrounded by a red sky lay in silence. The servants and stewards of this place all have a fabricated hearts. Only three residents carry a body of flesh and blood. A human with eyes of God and one arm. Who carries a promise with the two others. A dragon who has been around the longest and watches the other two from afar. Who carries his hobbies with vigor. A demon born from resentment which took a paper rose as his vessel. Who keeps the title of Devil and would rather spend time with the two others than those from outside.

The living room was dimly lit. Rosell sat on the windowsill one foot dangling down and with crossed arms. He looked outside at the rain. Hell was soaking with sound of roaring thunder in the distance. It was pleasant to hear. Really making the comforts of home more cozy.

“Wow, it’s thundering like crazy out there. I wonder if it’ll come closer.” A bright young woman sat down beside the Devil. Her peach skin illuminated every time a bolt of lightning lit the sky. Her long unruly blond hair fell nicely on her shoulders. Her smile warmed the Devil who she called brother everytime he looked at it.

A nice scent came sneaking in on them. It came directly from the kitchen which was placed beside the living room. A young looking man came strolling in. He wore a blue dress with a nice fluffy jacket, an apron and oven mittens while carrying stew. A long blue and white tail closed the kitchen door behind him. His slitted eyes screamed mischievous and his grin was painted a bright red.

“Food’s served.” He sang. The young woman, who was named Dina Ravenwood, who sat beside the Devil got up and darted to the dinning table. The man with the dragon’s tail, named Ikle Raveice sat down beside her and served her a portion of his cooking. He looked at his younger brother who still sat at the window. “Come eat with us already! I made your fav stew, you know.” Rosell Chartam Ibaraki, the Devil of the Fabricated Hell, stood up and sat down beside Ikle.

The little family sat and ate. Chatting about Dina’s school, about demonic affairs, about fashion and then. Dina,“Oh yeah! Today in religion I got in a heated discussion with two of the boys from the other class.” Ikle sniggered, “Wow, pro’lly ‘cause they had their own version of the Devil and such, huh? Not like anyone know the right answer right?” Ikle said, elbowing the Devil. Dina laughed and stuck her tongue out for her dragon brother. “Why are you booing me I’m right!” Ikle’s use of an old meme earned him another elbow.

“Actually,” Dina began after she had stopped laughing. “We were talking about resentment toward God and how The Devil...is driven by only that, hate.” Hearing Dina say that Rosell could only keep eating.

A shadow fell over Rosell’s features and he stared out of the window again. Ikle gulped loudly and gestured for Dina to change subject. Dina however, was quite nosy.

“Rosell? I argued against them because I know better, right.” She continued. Without hesitating Rosell answered, “Nah, they’re pretty much right. But you know that too. If it wasn’t for that god-for-nothing, i’d-“ Dina, “You’d what?” Silence feel over the room. “Isn’t that quite dumb?” Rosell turned his head, seething anger started to rise. he clenched his fists.

Dina’s face was stern and Ikle could only sigh. “Dina.” Rosell began, trying to keep his voice calm. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You know what he did.” Dina was relentless, “I know he killed them. But didn’t you kill his forces too?” Rosell became angrier, he almost said something until Dina said, “Didn’t you want to be able to be left unrestrained? Is this your anger? You didn’t know any of them! Neither the circumstances surrounding why God saw it as a necessity to... ok I won’t defend mass murder. But... you hate a guy you never really met. And for what? The resentment your predessecors formed you from?”

Silence filled the room after Dina spoke. Suddenly, a loud humm broke out. Rosell turned his head and was met with the biggest “I told you bro!” Face from Ikle.

All the anger which had been built up suddenly dissapeared as if a witch had swung her staff. It dawned on Rosell.

She was right.

Ikle looked at Dina who returned the look. Then back to Rosell who stared at his plate Suddenly, Dina couldnt take her brother’s silence anymore.

“Uhh, Rosell? Sorry, I just wanted-“ Dina didn’t get the chance to finish. “You’re right.” “Huh?” It blurted from Ikle. Rosell rested his chin in his hand and looked troubled.

Rosell, “You’re absolutely right.”

Footsteps rang out throughout the Heavens. A colorful seraph darted around God’s abode to try and find the lord. Finally, after opening the absolute last door in the whole palace the angel found God.

A big white coat, with splotches of dried paint, floated around a being with a dimmed aura. With colorless hair tied loosely by the neck, held by a huge bead. A young man rotated his body to show a patchwork of vitiligo on his skin. Big round glasses surrounded his eyes which were two differen colors, one blue one and one purple. He broke into a smile, “Miza!! What is it?” The seraph stood straight and answered, “Young lord Bell, I-I believe I found Strezia’s daughter!!!!”

Colorful eyes widened and the smile became bigger. The God jumped into his angel’s embrace and celebrated with gusto, jumping up and down. “Are you for real?! Then what are we waiting for? Hurry and let’s go already!!!”

The seraph staggered and tried to readjust themselves, “Bell,uh Bell. Remember. It’s the human realm we are going to. You need to hide your aura!” Baltazar, the God of The World of Allure smiled, “Well, I think I will need your help... you know. My art block and all.” The seraph called Miza didn’t answer. Only giving a knowing nodd and then the two were on their way.

“What do you mean you can’t tell me?!” Baltazar almost started crying. The lady behind the counter couldn’t help but fidget while Baltazar got closer and closer up in her face.

“Bell... calm down. They can’t just give out the information like that.” Baltazar turned to look at Miza, “But, but. Then how will we...” “Excuse me, sirs?” Both turned to the lady, who was in charge of the orphanage register. “Like I said.” She began. “I can’t just give out addresses at random. And since you can’t prove that you’re related to this woman, then it doesn’t look good for your search...”

Baltazar’s face turned gloom. It was like all the color around him died out and became grey.

“But there might just be a way.”

Instantly, Baltazar’s face brightened up. The woman behind the counter turned in her seat and began pressing keys on her computer and click around with her mouse.

“You see... five years ago. A woman related to miss Ravenwood came to search for her as well. She left her business card. It’s all I can give you as of now.” She reached for a file and pulled out a small dull business card.

Baltazar took the card and thanked the lady profusely. Then he darted out the door with Miza dangling behind him.

“So... huff, huff what now?” Miza inquired. Baltazar stopped on a sidewalk and turned to Miza, “Hold out your hands. I need some inspiration.” Miza held out her hands and they both closed their eyes. After minute standing like that, earning the two weird looks from pedestrians they knew where to go.

Penelope power walked down the lane in centrum. She kept looking at her watch and walked faster and faster. She had done it so many times that even her stilettos gnawing at her heels wasn’t a bother anymore. Just slap on some patches and then she would be fine! Oh well, she also had to call Dina and wish her luck on her test and then there was that new apartment opening and then. Umpf!

Penelope, “watch were you’re going!” Staggering back from the impact Penelope surveyed the person in front of her. Messy, oversized coat, bleached hair, smudged glasses, and ... heterochromia? Without noticing Penelope had begun to sneer at the jaywalker. “Uh... I’m! I’m so sorry.” The man begun to bow up and down. So much that Penelope felt nauseous just looking at the other, she asked him or was it a her? To stop.

After the person stopped Penelope made her way to leave until her wrist was grabbed.

Big mistake.

Penelope had practiced martial arts since grade school. She was quite proud of her hand palm block and wrestled the attacker’s hand backwards. A pitiful scream was released and people around the two stared in disbelief. This attacker had to be a man. In Penelope’s opinion it was always men who gave the most ear-piercing scream.

While Baltazar’s soul was about to leave his body, a new guy appeared. “Wait, ms Ravenwood!” Penelope looked at the newcomer. With disdain she said, “Who are you and why do you know my name?” The new guy straightened his back and answered with a slight tremble, “Please, we uh, we wish to speak to you. About Dina.” With those words Penelope let Baltazar go.

“You’re Dina’s father’s acquaintance?” Penelope asked and sipped her free coffee, the two others had brought for her.

The attacker was named Baltazar and the other one, who Penelope had thought to be man, Miza. Both sat opposite from her inside a coffee shop.

The two nodded and Baltazar began, “Yeah, we got your business card at the register. We really didn’t want to bother you... or maybe, just bother you about Dina.” He shrugged helplessly.

Penelope sighed, “I see. Next time don’t jolt me like that. I nearly got a heart attack, you know!”

Both bowed their head to apologize.

“Well, never mind anymore.” She said to make them stop. “I just need to know if you have any proof of your relations. You must know I just can’t send any stranger over to my niece.”

Miza had an aha moment and rummaged around in her purse. “Is the person on the right familiar in any way?” She asked, while pointing to a picture of two people she pulled out of her purse.

Penelope’s face dropped.

She asked for the photo and studied it close.

“It really... is her. Marie...” Penelope said, caressing the picture with her free hand. Her eyes got glassy.

“I see. Only two copies exist of this one. That’s what Marie told me... very well then. Tell me what you want with Dina and then I’ll tell you we’re to find her. But i warn you!” She said, pointing with a stern finger. “If i hear you tried anything fishy, i’ll find some means to drag you two through Hell! If not Dina’s brothers does it first!”

Baltazar held up his hands and broke into a big happy but nervous smile, “We! just wanted her to know about her father and maybe get closure to questions she may have...”

Penelopepaused. then she smiled and then wrote down an address. “She lives with her adoptive brothers. Get along with them and then you’ll get along with Dina.”

The building in front of God and his seraph were quite foreboding. Vines crawled up the walls and held the building in a tight embrace. The leaves were so dense it was hard to know which color the house originally held.

Baltazar started to sweat. He strolled nervously up to the entrance and was about to knock when he heard incoming footsteps.

“I’ll be back later dolls, I just need to...” a young blondie opened the door and was met by Baltazar’s stupefied look. Miza straightened her uniform and looked directly at Dina.

Baltazar, “May you be... miss Dina Ravenwood?”

Dina closed the door somewhat and hid behind it to shield her. “That depends on... What business you two may have...”

Baltazar fretted And didn’t know what to say. His divine power revealed her identity, however he couldn’t just reveal his true form to her. She may be the daughter of a seraph but she shouldn’t get scared.

“Ah! I’m so sorry. Let me introduce me and my companion. I’m Baltazar Farver and this is Miza.” Miza bowed slightly to Dina, “How do you do.” She said.

Dina opened the door some more to look better at the two oddballs on front of her.

“We! Uh, we are acquainted with you dad and we wish to tell you about him and maybe get to know...you?” Dina’s eyes lit up, then she became more apprehensive.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth.” Baltazar looked at Miza in defeat. Miza took the hint and coughed slightly, “Miss Ravenwood. We only have this picture of your mother together with your father.” She gave Dina the picture. Dina’s blue eyes shone like small stars and she looked at the two more brightly.

“Thank you so much!!! Please, come in come in. I’ll be happy to know you! My brothers are not home yet but they’ll be home soon!” Miza and Baltazar breathed out in relief. They began to step into the small house.

An array of demonic aura appeared on the floor inside the hall the moment the two divine beings stepped inside. It forced God and the seraph to reveal their true selves. Baltazar looked at Miza in horror. The array and the sudden change in atmosphere revealed that they were no longer in the second realm. They had entered Hell, the third realm.

Baltazar had a look of horror spread out on his face. Slowly, he looked at Dina who had sprung back after the array had activated. It held Baltazar and Miza in an iron grip making the two unable to move.

Dina was frozen to the ground. She looked at the God and the angel for a long while. Unable to say anything.

Meanwhile, piles of questions weighed down on God’s mind. Why was a human child living in Hell? No, why i Strezia’s child living in Hell? Does her aunt know? Is she a prisoner to an evil demon? Will demons gather now that two from the first realm had appeared?

Baltazar’s train of thought stopped abruptly. He was let down along with Miza and the two looked with surprise at Dina. Dina stood still. And then she lifted a finger to her lips. She then gestured to the two to follow her.

Dina poured three cups of tea with an apologetic look. The two heavenly beings were astounded. Dina had been adopted by two demons who now acted as her guardians. She was apparently also dating another demon and was quite happy with her life.

“And that’s really it.” She finished, “Look, I don’t want to hurt you and I’ll be more than willing to hear about my father. I’ve always wondered what happened.”

Miza had on a face of grave seriousness, “Miss Dina. Our presence here... It might cause some... people. To find rather... what do you say? Complicated. We don’t wish to engage in any hostility with your brothers.”

Dina smiled with relief, “That’s good to hear. I’ll make sure you’ll get out of here safely. But please, meanwhile. Make yourself comfortable.” Baltazar quickly took her up on her words an munched on a cookie he had been offered. Miza shot him a menacing look and Baltazar realized he probably took it a little too well. being in Hell and all.

He sighed and smiled. He’d better get on with it, “You see your father-“

“WHATSUP SLUTS! BIG BRO’S BAAAA.....aaaack.” A boisterous woman kicked open the door to the living room. Her voice was as dark as a man’s. She stopped immediately when she saw the angel and the other divine who sat with Dina.

Everybody turned to look at the newcomer.

Sweat began to form on the lady’s forehead and she cleared her throat, “Haha, welcome dearies.” she had completely changed her tone to a more fairer one.

“Oh Dina, I didn’t know we would have guests. I would’ve dressed for the occasion.”

Dina abruptly stood up, “Ah! Sis! Eh, these two know about my dad!” The lady blinked, “Really?” Suddenly her demeanor changed and she slowly got over and sat beside Miza. “Well, if you have something to tell about Dina that I don’t know. Then I would like to hear as well. The names iklea.” She held up her hand for Baltazar to shake.

“Hello there, the names Baltazar.” Miza quickly shot Baltazar another look. And he retracted his hand. While giving the sister an apologetic look.

Wait. didn’t Dina only have brothers? Balthazar thought.

Iklea looked like she tried to hide her displeasure. Looking thoughtful she sat with crosses arms. “Well, anyways. Didn’t you want to talk about Dina’s dad?” She asked, quite annoyed.

Baltazar cleared his throat, “Yeah! uh, yeah. Sorry.” He then began to tell about Strezia.

“Your dad’s name was Strezia. She was one of the most creative seraphs in my court. Oh, I have a picture.” Baltazar procured a picture of a beautiful fair-skinned lady. Her body was totally covered in a white uniform, with dried paint on. Her hair was even longer than Dina’s and her eyes were piercing as if she was looking directly at the viewer. Her eyes were the same as Dina’s.

“Uhh. Mr, Baltazar?” Dina asked hesitantly. “Isn’t this a picture of a woman?”

Baltazar blinked, not once but twice before Miza shot him another glare. “Oh yeah, you father was actually a woman.”

Dina looked slightly surprised. She looked at Iklea then back at Baltazar. “My father? Was a woman? And an angel at that?” She was sounding rather sceptical. Balthazar didnt blame her. But the God did wonder. hadn’t she been living with demons!

Baltazar, “Well, its not hard to change gender when you’re an angel. Or a demon for that matter. And I know for a fact that Strezia loved to explore the nuances of existence.”

Iklea smiled and put an arm around Dina, “Reminds me of someone i know.” She winked. “Excluding the shapeshifting part.” The siblings grinned at each other.

Miza looked at the picture and sighed, “Strezia was like an elder sister to all of us.”

Balthazar looked fondly at thepicture too, “When she told me she had fallen in love with a human woman I tried to warn her.”

Dina, “Warn her? About what?”

Baltazar looked down, “Humans don’t live forever... I was afraid she would get hurt and then... Look, Strezia wasn’t aware that your mother was pregnant. If she knew...” Baltazar could feel tears forming. He quickly wiped them away.

Dina’s face was frozen, “Mr, Baltazar? Sorry I’m asking but... my father, you address him in past tense could it be that...”

Dina didn’t say anymore. Baltazar lip quivered. He tried to pull himself together. Miza put a hand on Baltazar’s back. Dina took Iklea’s hand and Iklea squeezed it back.

Shadows swept the halls of the Fabricated Castle. The light from the mosaic windows danced around and found a silhouette which appeared at the end of the stairs leading to the main hall.

Red eyes surveyed the foyer and the gaze went towards the living room.

Hearing unfamiliar voices the silhouette took on a more human appearance with a nice blazer and matching pants.

He opened the door and first saw his sister Dina and then Ikle, “I’m back.” He said, then stopped in the doorway. When the guy opposite of Dina turned around something deep inside of Rosell sank.

Voices. Voices which had been hidden away since he met Dina returned.

Kill. Kill. Revenge. Chance. Take it!

“Ross-!” Dina yelled and got up. Iklea, who really was Ikle, hurried to make Dina stop before she finished the name.

Rosell’s eyes were fixated on Baltazar.

The God he had spent centuries getting to. He now sat in his living room. Free from his court’s protection.

He had never been this close. So close yet...

Balthazar, “Hello, you must be Dina’s brother. I’m Dina’s father’s Uh... acquaintance.” The God got up from his seat, turned to Rosell and smiled.

The dread dissipated.

Rosell, “Dina’s?”

Rosell looked at Dina and Ikle who were about to burst.

He then took a looked at the seraph, who was also present in the room.

It seems like... there was some explaining to do.

Dina’s elder brother took off his coat. A small smile formed on rosell’s lips.

“Where are my manners. You can call me Ross.”

“Ross” held out a hand for God to sake. Baltazar returned the smile and shook the other man’s hand, “I’m Baltazar.”

Ross, “I know.”

Baltazar felt dread roll down his body.

Rosell, “You hurt me, my lord. I may be a common demon. as you might have guessed from the array at the entrance. Currently disguised as a human for Dina’s sake. But I know my way in this world. And the people one has to know about” He looked directly through Baltazar.

“Surely, you must have been aware that this is Hell when you arrived, right.”

Baltazar nodded. Unable to say much more.

Ross let go of Baltazar’s hand, “Now, tell me. What have I been missing?”

Ross, “I see, that explains a lot.”

Dina, “It does?”

Ross, “It explains why you got the eyes of God.”

Baltazar almost spilled his tea, “She’s got my eyes???” This statement prompted a facepalm from Miza.

Rosell shook his head, “Not yours per see. More like, what priestess in the old world prayed to be able to see through you. To see things that normal people wouldn’t.”

Miza took a sip from a teacup. “You mean she can see magic beings?”

Rosell scoffed, “No, not at all. She still believes my tail is some weird furry statement i have going. Dina turned to Ross, “Ross please!” She then turned to the divine pair and confirmed, “I’ve always been able to, since I was small.”

Miza sighed and tried not to show her disdain for the demon, “That must’ve been difficult. Your peers must have found you rather peculiar. We are terribly sorry we did not know of your existence earlier. We should’ve been able to help you.” SHe glanced at “Iklea” and “Ross”, “Much earlier.”

Ross glared at the seraph who gladly returned the gesture. It was so intense that Miza could only try to drink from an empty cup and act like she didn’t notice the cup was empty.

Dina, “Not at all! My childhood was... but then I met Ross and Iklea. Since then.. I’ve been rather content. I even decided when my business in the human world is finished. I’d actually like to stay permanently here with my boyfriend... if he still likes me in the future that is.”

Iklea broke into laughter, “HAH! He better. ‘Else I know of a few heartbreaking words to tell him.”

Nobody in the room liked the obvious wink Iklea sent towards the group.

“But back to my dad....” Dina tried.

Baltazar’s face dropped, “Yeah! Right!”

“As I said, Strezia fell in love with a woman named Marie Ravenwood. She stayed together with Marie for some human years until one day... She came home. Locked herself in her room and didn’t show her face for quite some time... Miza.” Balthazar gestured to the seraph, “Found out that ms. Ravenwood had cut ties to her. And then thirteen years ago... you mother. You probably know know what happened.”

Dina gulped and looked down. Ross sat beside her and watched her every move.

Dina’s mother had died giving birth to her. Her mother had cut all ties to her family because of improper conduct. She would rather give Dina up for adoption than let her parents know of her daughter’s existence. As Dina had been told by her aunt.

“I felt it when you mother died.” Balthazar continued when DIna confirmed she knew.

“Her connection to Strezia made all of Strezia’s closest feel it too. I knew something would happen so I... I forced myself into Strezia’s room. But she was gone. A few days later. Strezia’s light disappeared from this existence...” Dina felt cold.

“Nobody knew what had happened to her as she had thrown away her halo.”

Dina sat frozen. Her shoulders trembled. Dina got up and went out the door. Ross got up too and followed after her. Balthazar could only stare as he was at a loss at what to do. It had been twentyfive years ago and he still remembered the day as if it was today it had happened.

Iklea sighed, “Don’t worry, she... just have to swallow it. They’ll be back. After she gets it out.”

Baltazar felt her pain. A girl who had never met her parents.. and for both of them to wind up dead. Truly sad.

Baltazar closed his eyes. His empathy gave birth to an inkling of inspiration. He used it to see where the two had gone. ‘

A gentle hand calmly patted a young weeping maiden while rocking her back and forth. A good man consoling his little sister. Whispering reassuring words to her.

After a while Iklea went too and the three of them soon got back.

Baltazar got up from his seat, “I’m sorry that you and Strezia never got to meet. But I’m happy nonetheless to finally being able to meet you. I-“ “Wait a moment.” Ross said.

Baltazar stopped.

Ross, “I think I know what happened to Strezia.”

Miza got up instantly.

“You do??? What happened? What do you mean?”

Baltazar looked hopeful at Ross. However, Strezia’s soul had moved on. She wouldnt turn up alive, even if balthazar wanted it. Still, Baltazar wanted closure so he prompted Ross to tell what he knew.

“Some time back. An angel went on a rampage throughout some shopping districts in Hell’s capital. Many high demons came to stop her but her attacks were relentless. She didn’t even try to protect herself. Charging head on.”

They all listened attentively. Nobody were sitting anymore, holding their breaths.

Ross, “She stirred up such a huge incident that the Devil himself showed up.”

Baltazar felt stiffened. He always got trembling fits every time the Devil was mentioned. he tried to gulp down the unease.

“He tried to subdue her.” Ross continued. “But when he went for the killing strike she suddenly threw her sword and met the attack with open arms. He refused her the kill and stopped immediately. But, something in her eyes drove her to steal away his sword, Redwoo, and then she... ended it herself.”

The atmosphere which surrounded the room lay heavily on the people inside.

Baltazar felt weak and wanted to scream and cry. He blamed himself. His inefficiency. He was supposed to be God but he couldn’t even help one who had been so close to him.

The loss of Marie was so big that Strezia didn’t even want to be in a world where Marie wasn’t there. A tragedy befitting of such a beautiful love. If this had been a tragedy.

Baltazar flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He lifted his head to see Dina with tears in her eyes. “Thank you for coming today.” Her voice was weak and trembling. She fought hard to keep the tears at bay. Baltazar only felt worse when he saw her. He then embraced the girl. And thanked her too. Holding back tears.

She never knew them. But she wished she had. Still, she couldn’t help but feel sad for two people who had loved each other and tried to protect each other. Angels’ life span far surpasses that of a human. With a baby on the way, Miza concluded it must’ve been because Marie wanted to spare Strezia the heartbreak of outliving her child and wife. Nobody knew for sure.

“Thanks for having us!” Baltazar beamed. He stood outside of Ross, Iklea and Dina’s house. Miza and him were preparing to go back.

“I’m so happy I came to meet you Dina! And your nice elder siblings of course. Even though I thought that you had two brother to start with... but well, it’s really been fun! Though, maybe a tad bit sad.” Iklea stood and supressed a laugh. Ross only elbowed her.

Baltazar clasped Dina’s hands, “I might be God and have business other places but I would really like it if we kept in contact with each other! You’re really bright and I’m sure Strezia would’ve been so proud of you. So I hope that I can come and visit again. You know, to tell you more and stuff!”

With a returned beaming smile Dina answered, “Yes of course! I really want to know more as well. And you’re really interesting my lord. Even Ross and Ikle- I mean Iklea liked you. And I’m sure they don’t mind.” Dina looked back at her siblings they both nodded in agreement.

“I’m just... I’m just sad that my dad didn’t know about me...” Baltazar patted Dina’s head, “Yeah, it could’ve been different.”

Dina shook her head, “It could’ve. However, I’m happy as is.” She then turned to look at her siblings. Baltazar was truly happy for her.

Miza and Baltazar then said goodbye and disappeared towards the first realm.

“I’m sorry Rosell.” Dina said sheepishly. “I didn’t realize he was God until later...”

“It’s ok. I’m glad you made him stay.”

“You... are?”

“Yeah.”

#original content #writing #God and Devil #World of Alurre #Romance #Fantasy #otherworldly #lgbt #lgbtq community

2 notes · View notes

minidog · 7 years

Text

Hi i hate writing this is on ao3 too

they were kids once.

there were summers spent without a care in the world. hazy memories of when they were simply boys, dirtying their church clothes in spite of their mothers warnings from playing in the dirt. it kicked up in clouds in the air as they screamed and squealed with delight, bonding in the way only children can. no one knew one anothers names, or their parents, their favorite colors, their fears, their hopes, and somehow sparring with sticks fashioned into swords was enough to feel like theyd known each other for thousands of years.

it was a time before girls were talked about only in relation to the size of their breasts or the length of their dresses, before adults built walls with talk of sanctity and virginity. somehow, they all seemed to look happier when it wasnt dictated what constituted as a 'girl game' or a 'boy game'. theyd play pretend with the other children until the sun started to make its way down the sky and their parents called them home for dinner.

thea never liked how he played. it was a hot day, and even though the suns rays beat down relentlessly on them, she insisted they leave for the creek where the others were surely splashing about. "god forbid we become hermits, hanschen," shed said. she was the sort of young girl to have no qualms with using the lords name in vain, and the sort of young girl who enjoyed throwing words like 'hermits' to make her brother feel stupid. they were at the creek, and hanschen watched from underneath the branches of the old oak as his sister, dirt and sand caked on her chubby face, chased martha and otto into the water. she was pretending to be a great white shark, which neither of the kids wouldve known since she only referred to it by the latin name she found in an encyclopedia a week before, while the other town kids watched with mild interest before deciding to incorporate her odd shtick into their own fantasy worlds.

she spun around when martha and ottos feet hit the water, followed by heavy splashing as they sprinted through the shallows, sun-bleached blonde hair whipping across her shoulder. she stomped over to him, brown eyes the coldest glare a six year old could possibly muster. he looked up, unimpressed, crossing his arms across his chest. "what?"

"what?" she mimicked him. "do you intend to be so insipid?"

he decided against asking her what insipid meant and where on earth shed ever heard it before, instead looking up at the young girl with a thoroughly unimpressed stare. "only if it makes you mad," he told her. it was his duty as her twin.

suddenly, she hauled hanschen up to his feet with superhuman strength and pushed him so hard he stumbled into the creek. the cold water shocked his entire body as he fell backwards, soaking his clothes quickly. hed have screamed if his head didnt go under for a brief few seconds, instead coughing water hed inhaled on accident. all to the amusement of thea and the others, of course.

his arm stung from abrasions courtesy of the rocks under the water, and when he held it up for inspection, spots of bright red blood had already began to run down his forearm. even as a child, he was more annoyed than anything else.

he drew his eyes away from his scraped arm to give thea a pointed glare, but she was no where to be found, evidently disappeared once her game with martha and otto picked up again. instead he met the eyes of another boy, one hed seen around often. hed been writing something with a branch broken from a tree as hanschen could see from the dipping lines in the earth. usually he was spotted with another young boy, tugging him by the hand and always yapping a lot of variations of "moritz" and "stiefel" at the poor kid, but today hanschen noted he was alone.

his eyes sparkled green in the sunlight, narrowed as he looked at him. his coarse wavy hair was parted neatly on the left but otherwise seemed to stick up everywhere, sticking to his forehead and shaped by the wind. he wore sunday clothes, even though it was a thursday, either because he was stuck up or because he owned nothing else, hanschen couldnt tell.

hanschens arm dropped back into the water, his cuts stinging from the cold. he raised a brow. the boy on the shore waved back.

after that, they werent best friends. they didnt build forts out of sticks and mud or skip down the road hand in hand. in fact, they seemed to be at constant odds, even when their opinions were limited to the small world they knew as children. hanschen and melchior were electromagnetic. it took him a long time to realize it was attraction, not repellent, that had them clashing.

has them clashing. they continue to find their way to each other no matter how hard they try to stop it.

"youre thinking?" melchior asks.

"mm. reminiscing." he tries to avoid looking at the boy - man is a more accurate descriptor, its been a decade since he had been a kid writing words at the creek - but ultimately fails, distracted by the way the stray strands of hair shimmer in the moonlight, like silver thread.

he thinks the first time he realized he was different was in his earlier years of school. his childhood summers had ended and hed been introduced to the world of education, an unsavory thing that had him confined to a single room for hours on end, watching an adult wear chalk thin on a dusty blackboard. it was not only his first introduction to academics like math and science, but his first introduction to gym.

gym was hell in hanschens opinion. there was no studying to help him, and to be graded solely on his skill frustrated him to no end. hed spend hours out throwing around a ball, muscles screaming in agony, before being released to the locker rooms to shower in a room full of sweaty boys like himself.

the water was always hard and cold, striking his back like a whip. he thought all the other boys looked, too. he thought all the other boys dropped their eyes from faces to bodies, not to compare themselves mentally, but just to look. when he said something of that account, he quickly realized that assumption was wrong. then he told himself he was simply observant, because in order to survive he had to be sharper, didnt he?

he gathered information like this. for example, georg was the first to sprout dark, coarse hairs in a line from his navel. moritz looked at his feet and remained silent, and his awkwardness only grew when his body followed suit, and like the click of a light, hanschen started seeing the effects the regular physical activity had on his body; his stomach was no longer soft, his arms and legs no longer sticks awkwardly tacked on to his lanky body. his masculine v stirred something like envy in hanschens stomach. and ernst had the nicest cock; it was prettier than any of the other boys. he caught him staring once and hanschens face felt so hot he thought he might be burning from the inside out. he was just jealous was all. he wasnt the ideal and they were.

self-loathing and attraction always seemed to blend together for hanschen. he truly did feel insecure in his own skin surrounded by boys hed known since childhood whod suddenly become sculpted by the gods. he also definitely wanted them to pound him so hard he forgot his own name. so that made things confusing.

"when did you first realize you liked boys?" hanschen asks.

"i dont. i didnt," melchior says, shutting him up quickly. hanschens gaze darts away from the other boys face and he swallows hard. hes not a stupid boy, but somehow he allowed melchior gabor to weasel his way into his life.

he knew this is what would happen, and yet he still let melchior get to him. he still felt butterflies swarming in his stomach around him, especially whenever they were doing anything domestic. then he could pretend they were married or something, like they were a couple, a real couple, and it reduced him to an eager little boy again, curious and happy and excited, all the sorts of emotions that dulled through the years. hes allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of melchior gabor and he hates himself for it.

he feels melchiors soft hands on his face, forcing him to look at him again. his chest still rises and falls heavily, though now at regular intervals, and the post-orgasmic daze makes him look like an angel sent from heaven. he kisses him, hard, lips soft and firm against his own. hands move to the back of his head, grasping at his tousled hair, soon becoming tangled in the locks of blond. he wonders if melchior thinks about how their lips fit like pieces in a puzzle. wonders if he can taste the cum as his tongue passes over his parted lips, if he minds. wonders if he even thinks at all.

melchior pulls away first, running his hands through hanschens hair a few times before bringing his right hand and using his thumb to wipe cum from his chin, then the stray saliva on his bottom lip. "you missed a spot," he says instead of acknowledging the intimacy at all. its not surprising because its what he always does. hanschen rolls his eyes.

"ive been thinking," melchior says.

"youve been thinking..." hanschen repeats.

"about wendla. wendla bergmann. from when we were kids. from church."

"wendla bergmann. thea says she has the best hair. whatever that means."

"i think ill grow to fancy her," melchior continues, ignoring the anecdote entirely. "i think she could be something. wed definitely be something. perfect, really."

"im glad you decided on a wife while you were busy fucking me," hanschen snaps. the very real annoyance and hurt is lost on melchior, who simply laughs at him.

"shes kind. and pretty. and i think intelligent, too," he goes on.

"why are you telling me this, again?"

he gives him an odd look. "were friends, arent we? dont friends talk?"

"you have stiefel for talking, dont you?"

"do i only have to have one friend?"

"i cant imagine you could manage to score more than one." hes only half-joking.

"i like talking to you," melchior points out.

except, he doesnt. hanschen knows he doesnt, because it wouldnt hurt this much if he did. he was lonely, and melchior was there, melchior who was only horny and bored. who is still only horny and bored. hanschen swallows the poison in his mouth hard, bites his tongue because he knows he asked for it. he asked to be used. melchior is the first boy hanschen loved, and the first boy that destroys him, too. sometimes its how things are. it surely beats being alone.

"i know." hanschen kisses him again, only to make him stop talking, only to feel his skin on his before he disappears completely.

#andyfic #spring awakening #melchior gabor #hanschen rilow #helchior

5 notes · View notes