i kin albedo

scaramouche has learned his lesson a long time ago — a god does not forgive that easily. especially, when that god is also your mother.

ei&scaramouche (platonic/familial)

angst (i am feeling silly)

yesterday i offered you a cute fic. today? an angsty scarei fic. tomorrow? who knows

raiden ei’s words shoot to kill when arguing. her verbal fights are the exact same as her physical ones; quick, sharp, straight to the point. able to spot her opponent’s weakness in mere seconds. hurtful. precise. aiming to kill.

more often than not, the one standing on the opposite side was her son. she had no mercy for him — son or not, whoever stood against her had to bear the wrath of her lightning.

(she was always a strict mother, after all.)

their fights are always so cruel. bringing up the past, bringing up the insecurities. recalling regrets and past mistakes, shooting insults at one another as if it were a contest. a competition. something that had to be won at any cost.

what seemed to somehow be even worse though that the fight itself was the aftermath. the silence that would follow. the eyes of his mother boring into his.

scaramouche has learned his lesson a long time ago — a god does not forgive that easily. especially, when that god is also your mother.

ei&scaramouche (platonic/familial)

angst (i am feeling silly)

yesterday i offered you a cute fic. today? an angsty scarei fic. tomorrow? who knows

raiden ei’s words shoot to kill when arguing. her verbal fights are the exact same as her physical ones; quick, sharp, straight to the point. able to spot her opponent’s weakness in mere seconds. hurtful. precise. aiming to kill.

more often than not, the one standing on the opposite side was her son. she had no mercy for him — son or not, whoever stood against her had to bear the wrath of her lightning.

(she was always a strict mother, after all.)

their fights are always so cruel. bringing up the past, bringing up the insecurities. recalling regrets and past mistakes, shooting insults at one another as if it were a contest. a competition. something that had to be won at any cost.

what seemed to somehow be even worse though that the fight itself was the aftermath. the silence that would follow. the eyes of his mother boring into his.

scaramouche has learned his lesson a long time ago — a god does not forgive that easily. especially, when that god is also your mother.

ei&scaramouche (platonic/familial)

angst (i am feeling silly)

yesterday i offered you a cute fic. today? an angsty scarei fic. tomorrow? who knows

raiden ei’s words shoot to kill when arguing. her verbal fights are the exact same as her physical ones; quick, sharp, straight to the point. able to spot her opponent’s weakness in mere seconds. hurtful. precise. aiming to kill.

more often than not, the one standing on the opposite side was her son. she had no mercy for him — son or not, whoever stood against her had to bear the wrath of her lightning.

(she was always a strict mother, after all.)

their fights are always so cruel. bringing up the past, bringing up the insecurities. recalling regrets and past mistakes, shooting insults at one another as if it were a contest. a competition. something that had to be won at any cost.

what seemed to somehow be even worse though that the fight itself was the aftermath. the silence that would follow. the eyes of his mother boring into his.

scaramouche has learned his lesson a long time ago — a god does not forgive that easily. especially, when that god is also your mother.

ei&scaramouche (platonic/familial)

angst (i am feeling silly)

yesterday i offered you a cute fic. today? an angsty scarei fic. tomorrow? who knows

raiden ei’s words shoot to kill when arguing. her verbal fights are the exact same as her physical ones; quick, sharp, straight to the point. able to spot her opponent’s weakness in mere seconds. hurtful. precise. aiming to kill.

more often than not, the one standing on the opposite side was her son. she had no mercy for him — son or not, whoever stood against her had to bear the wrath of her lightning.

(she was always a strict mother, after all.)

their fights are always so cruel. bringing up the past, bringing up the insecurities. recalling regrets and past mistakes, shooting insults at one another as if it were a contest. a competition. something that had to be won at any cost.

what seemed to somehow be even worse though that the fight itself was the aftermath. the silence that would follow. the eyes of his mother boring into his.

scaramouche has learned his lesson a long time ago — a god does not forgive that easily. especially, when that god is also your mother.

ei&scaramouche (platonic/familial)

angst (i am feeling silly)

yesterday i offered you a cute fic. today? an angsty scarei fic. tomorrow? who knows

raiden ei’s words shoot to kill when arguing. her verbal fights are the exact same as her physical ones; quick, sharp, straight to the point. able to spot her opponent’s weakness in mere seconds. heutful. precise. aiming to kill.

more often than not, the one standing on the opposite side was her son. she had no mercy for him — son or not, whoever stood against her had to bear the wrath of her lightning.

(she was always a strict mother, after all.)

their fights are always so cruel. bringing up the past, bringing up the insecurities. recalling regrets and past mistakes, shooting insults at one another as if it were a contest. a competition. something that had to be won at any cost.

what seemed to somehow be even worse though that the fight itself was the aftermath. the silence that would follow. the eyes of his mother boring into his.

raiden ei does not apologize. she is a god, after all — a god is never wrong. on the other hand, he had almost become one. something that could’ve been but never was. something that sometimes haunts him in his dreams. something that he still sees when he looks into his mother’s face. and so he puts his hands together, his eyes looking at her in a silent prayer and

he

begs.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”

the words seem to spill out of him like feom a broken glass. he can’t stop them, can’t stop the desperate sound of his voice, can’t stop the feeling of needing for her to at least look at him.

“i didn’t mean to— i didn’t mean to say that, you know it, you know i didn’t mean to!”

she extends her hand and caresses his face. he leans into her touch and for a second, all that she has done wrong seems like an illusion, a cruel trick of his mind. but in the end, she takes her hand back and her eyes become distant again.

she is a mother and

he is a son.

sadly,

she is a god before she is a mother.

sadly,

he is her son before he is anything else.

scaramouche has learned his lesson a long time ago — a god does not forgive that easily. especially, when that god is also your mother.