ᴮⁱʳᵈ օƒ ` ILL ` ᵒᵐᵉⁿ, ✶

CONT.    /    @ofsoul    🤍

‘ perhaps we should go,    ’ she doesn’t shift at all with eliza’s touch,    if only a slight tension and a solemn and severe gaze that oscillates between scolding and tender.    ‘ you seem to have surpassed your limit tonight.    ’ better this,    than she stays loose and finds trouble,    besides,    if spending time with raven is her goal,    the demon is certain a night would be more nourishing for the both of them.  it's now just the manner of convincing her without artifice.  ‘ i will say it does seem you made new friends,    even if unintentioned.    you should say your goodbyes if you wish to stay by me.    ’

“ I was young when they did this to me. ” He says, barely above a whisper — a soft whimper accompanies it as he can feel the seal fighting back. He tries to ground himself, gripping the forehead protector he keeps in his lap. The hair against his neck is damp and he trembles, eyes squeezing shut as he feels each and every movement she makes inside, and each and every movement made inside of him from those in the seal. His immediate answer to her question is the latter — his father dead, his uncle cruel and cousin naïve. The void left behind by the actions of his clan head warped how he saw everything and everyone, left to be forcibly filled by someone he now considered a friend. The healing process was awkward and painful, but not complete. It couldn’t, until this happened. Until this was complete. In his mind, as if it were summoned by the seal in his soul, came that painful memory — being held down, crying as his own uncle branded his forehead with the very thing causing him pain. Make it stop, he silently pleads, starting to breathe slowly in an attempt to regulate the hurt that started to consume his body.

‘ think of the garden,    think of the trees,    ’ all perfectly shaped,    like any well - positioned family would,    there’s cruel dignity in all important families and their greenery. the way their leaves can only see the sun where their masters permit it,    in the unnatural constraint of their roots:    denied bloom the monopoly of power has no place in nature.    the space illuminates,    the cries of the past can only be heard in the distance.    ‘ what do you want to be    ? who are you ?    ’

it cuts through his throat, merciless.  still, he has to ask.   '' what happens if i don't get better? ''   if he finally shatters to pieces in the middle of their precious rebellion and the red in his profile ends up drowning out the rest. what then?

a knot weaves snakelike on her throat:   there are no pleasant conversations to have,   her lighthearted inquisition dies as soon as it threatens to leave her tongue.   she turns to face him now.    ‘ i am not told,   ’ like a bird,   she’s always perched to listen,   i am not told,   but i know,   she ought say.   ‘ they would not let you do much,   separate you if you are a liability,   ’ he’s meant to be an example,   a living martyr,   a golden paragon to guide soldiers:   optics than fury,   the stable omen of their survival.   ‘ we do not cast away our sick,   but war is coming.   ’ a sudden thought escapes her,   ‘ did you all not live together    ?   at the village    ?   i mean.   ’

'' i ask my due. ''   he bestows @ofsoul with a glare, eyes flashing a somber silver, not at all enticed by the prospect of having an intruder in his very own dream.  yet, the lord of the underworld is secretly impressed. only loathe to make such an admission.  '' you are trespassing, little dyad. ''

at least she's cautious, when she pries upon the dream of the god,    by changing nothing, only appearing as what she is, exposing herself to judgement.    as expected,    he gives her no time to asses the damage on his soul.    it would take her years anyway, the forbidden thing it is.   ‘ i am sorry, but i am not,    ’ her face is visible through her cloak,    she cannot hide in his domain,    or at least,    she isn't as foolish to try.    ‘ i would not be here if you had not permitted it.    ’ or his preservation skills are lacking,    but she's glad her well - intentioned healing palms are called for it, if only he lets her ( restraint, however, in leaving his pain untasted, will be a challenge ).    ‘  why does a king suffer    ?    ’

'' why don't you tell me about that dream of yours? ''   she nods towards the nearby park, eager to leave the busy shop's entrance, before adding (belatedly, but honest).   '' just a confidential chat. ''

‘  i would have not interrupted your peace otherwise,    ’ the shorter woman leads the way gracefully unconcerned.    despite the unelegant crimples in her hair and untidy violet under -eyes,     it’s as if the world around them couldn’t touch the,    the embrace of nature relaxes the hidden compression on her chest,    as if the rees absorbed the cacophony of hurt and fury lingering in every soul in the street.    she sits by a bench suspiciously left unoccupied only seconds before.    a magpie perches by the demon’s feet,    winnowing crumbs from the cobblestone.    ‘ a woman not unlike you was with me,    she took me to a park like this,    but her coffee was blood,    she couldn’t help but cry it out.    but it could have not possibly been you.    you do not seem to cry at all,    that must mean what you have to drink satisfies you.    even if it is bitter.     ’ 

{   𝕾TARTER 𝕮ALL 𓂃₊☁︎  for @ofsoul

she feels duty,    even compassion towards the ruler,    however,    the flavor of curiosity stains her tongue.    how empath cognition manifests so adversarial between them,    vim bred from the same lineage,    is a mystery she seeks to unlace.    a concealed purpose of her visits,    married to the responsibility to see kindness fall upon this soil.    she’s plagued zoya with images of godhood,    wishing to earn favor as a painter of omens,    yet she’s wary  of her own jealousy.    raven has only ever wanted to be a saint,    but there’s something rotten and undeserving within her.    her hopes stare back with the iciest of blues ‘ you are hiding behind force.    your soul will grow weak and cruel,    and i may not be able to rescue it.    ’ @dvaurga

“ But he's so adorable. ” She stands up, walking over to the TV and pointing at him. “ I do not believe he causes such levels of despair when the hat he wears is so cute. ” Koriand'r turns around, hands on her hips with an eyebrow raised at her friend. “ Why can't we watch the movie, Raven? Is that not what this — ” The Tamaranean motions to the bottle of wine, face masks, and candles, then turns her attention back to the other. “ Is for? A silly little movie cannot be so horrible that it will thrust you into despair. ”

‘ yes… ’ not looking away,    plastering her dark,    severe gaze,    something in her lips seems oo soften.    it renders her vulnerable to confess something as simple as preference.    ‘ … the hat is charming…  ’ oh,    this is mortifying.    is it soon enough to hide       ?       no,    she mustn't break her friend’s heart.    ‘ … as is their proclivity to show tenderness to horses,    ’ a deep breath,    she encourages herself.    ‘ human history is rough… perhaps… we can… perhaps you are right,    i should relax… ’ her words trail as mist,    in her melancholic disposition,    there’s some defeat.    ‘ do you believe wine would help       ?       ’

❛❛ fine. don't forgive me.   ❜❜ pulling back, they are half tangled enough that he can catch her eyes and hover, withdrawing his hands if only to unclasp the cloak from his shoulders. ❛❛ i'll be the bigger person and forgive you when you change your mind.   ❜❜

her darkness curls around his shoulders,    prodding along his neckline,    but her hands both remain on his face and hair,    her leg unable to untwist from his hip.    she feels virtuous,    the action is forbidden and unholy,    to be close,    but her feelings feel far from malignant.    selfish,    cold,    cruel sun,    she had condemned him before,    yet she’s never felt her own desires and agency be as important as they do against this eyes.    rather than a plaything to his enjoyment,    she suspects his satisfaction being dealt best when her whims are spoken in unison to his.    but is it delirium or reciprocity    ?     ‘ does it not please you    ?    to make me angry    ?    ’ her nose pressed against him.    the hold her voids have on him is feeble,    subconscious and in turn,    easy to kill by his light if he desires.     ‘ you make me feel so much, too much, not enough, i might have lead us to perdition.    ’

as   expected   ,   raven   meets   his   concern   with   reassurance   &   her   own   worries.   ever   the   empathetic   soul   ,   always   caring   for   others   ━━   another   reason   why   the   creature   can   resist   his   growing   feelings.   upon   her   suggestion   over   a   warm   drink   back   at   home   ,   he   smiles   &   offers   her   a   nod in agreement   ,   greatly   enjoying   the   idea.   he's   always   been   one   to   drink   tea   every   morning   during   the   cold   winter   nights during his original time period   ,   but   he   has   become   quite fond   of   hot   chocolate recently   ,   particularly   the   delicious   cream   that   is   placed   on   top   from   a   loud   can   ,   along   with   little   colorful   sweets   that   create   an   amusing   display.   before   they   begin   their   trek   back   ,   the   creature   makes   a   grunting   noise   as   he   removes   his   coat   ,   placing   it   around   raven's   shoulders   with   gentle   precision.   ❝   .   .   .   here.   ❞   the   sound   comes   out   strained   ━━   a   croak   almost   ,   but   the   word   is   clearer   than   ever   before.   another   smile   is   offered   in   addition   to   his   arm   ,   prepared   to   walk   back   with   her   so   they   can   enjoy   warmer   temperatures   back   home.

she shifts their path by beckoning one of his hands by the wrist,    a soft thumb caressing his blood into his veins,    an innocent look shooting back at him as they walk.     ‘ you do not have to care for me,    ’ she wishes to say his name here,    humanize him,    get close in soul in ways she’s unable  by her own faux - unfeeling,    repressed doctrine.    ‘ you are still adjusting.    ’ not one to fear vulnerability,    she still tries to ease his mood.    succumbing to the dour airs of darkness and death between them make her wish to be a moon to guide him through the eternal night of sadness.    ‘ maybe we can practice reading today,    after your throat is warm,    but you have not yet told me your favorite kind of stories to read.    ’ in a cloud of darkness they appear in her apartment,    rushed by her power to spare him from the cold.   

“   you  mis——   “   sentence  cut  as  it  begins:   a  retreat  back  to  her  thoughts.   pursued  lips  take a  moment  before  offering…   what  she  thought  should  be  a  comfort.   “   you  underestimate  their  capacity…   their  goodness.   they  love  you.   i  love  you.   “   she  does  not  wish  this,   evident  in  the  way  clasped  palms  never  seize  to  stop  shifting  in  front,   self-soothing  motions  to  calm  every  emotion  that  dares  to  bubble  in.   but  this  is  not  about  her.   star  is  trying  to  understand  that.     “   i  vow  myself  to  secrecy.   i  know  that  is  what  you  wish.   i  will  honor  it  &  i  will  never  breath  anything  to  another  soul.   and  i  am…   sorry  that  this  is  something  i  have  to  keep.   “   there’s  something  haunting  about  this  that  koriand’r  can’t  quite  put  her  finger  on;   nor  does  she  wish  to.   eyes  drop  to  ask  one  more  question,     “   would  you  like  me  to  rid  you  of  my  presence  as  well ... ?   “   it  already  stings…   but  to  leave  makes  her  nauseous.   but  if  she  were  to  request  it,   that’s  another  vow  she  would  take.

still,    when the threat of abandonment comes,    she feels as if a sword will be ripped from her aching chest.    it might hurt the dyad to have the bright green perception latched onto her miserable state,    but it’s as if death will come if she leaves.     ‘ y- you do not have to go.    ’ an embarrassed look up,    then down,    a dance that craves and hides from the sun’s pyre.    raven clutches into her cloak,    remaining shadowed as she musters bravery to speak with sincerity.    ‘ i am not expecting you to understand,    koriand’r.    i am not expecting you to sacrifice your integrity for me,    i just… ’ what is she truly hoping for    ?    such is the disconnect from her heart and her brain,    her desires are inaccessible,    even if they sliver through her actions.    the tower feels colder by the seconds.    what she does instead is further sink into her despair,    a confession,    a condemnation: ‘ i am not good,    koriand’r.    i do not deserve your kindness.    ’