An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Summary:
“Ah, so the Angel’s precious little warrior has found us at last…A shame you are too late” But no, that’s not quite right is it? Their eyes keep flashing back to the usual blue for just a moment before returning to that dull soulless purple. The shifts are in perfect time with the inconsistent pulsing of the crying obsidian. Or: Chayanne goes to find his dad and ends up finding a little more than he bargained for. Luckily he gets a little help dealing with the issue.
I had so many thoughts about Friday's lore stream that I couldn't draw them all out properly.
So instead I dusted off my Fic writing skills for the first time in (checks calandar) about 8 years to get it all out.















