indie?

she’s a shell as she follows the other with little complaint . juliet’s mind is elsewhere , over analyzing her actions and considering the consequences that she was sure to follow . juliet knew she didn’t deserve the help she was receiving , but she wasn’t one to run away from it either . 

the fabric is suffocating against her face , and for a second she contemplates telling eira to stop . yet she doesn’t , heels stomping along the pavement until juliet finds the strength to speak once again . “ where are we going ? “ she breathes out slightly planting her feet for them to stop . “ why are you helping me ? “

it’s just when they get to the border of the forest that juliet asks her to stop. sharp eyes whip behind, and eira meets the woman’s gaze when she feels herself being stopped in her tracks. her breath is shallow, but it is quick to steady.

“we’re going to my home.” eira says softly. it’s a place she almost never brings people to in an effort to maintain a semblance of privacy. juliet, it seems, is an exception. fingers carefully thread themselves through the woman’s hand, urging her to continue walking.

“i’m helping you because you’re my friend.” though it is, on the surface, a simple statement, it is one that eira means with every fiber of her being. ever since meeting juliet, eira has found solidarity in yet another solitary person. cold edges have seemed to melt around someone she has grown to care for.

“Quite so… Mortals still surprise me to this day in the way they either do or don’t accept such things.” She looked over at the god when he turned to her. They both were often associated with death, despite neither being the actual god or goddess of death itself. It was almost amusing in that regard.

“I’m doing quite well actually… how have you been, Hades?” She gave a nod of her head, not a bow or anything quite so grandiose, but a gentle nod of respect to the other.

“you are lucky then - to still be surprised.” hades smiles faintly, gesturing for lachesis to take a seat alongside him. he has long since been jaded to a point that there is little to nothing of death that will surprise him.

“your sister has been a pain; but that is nothing new.” he raises a brow. “tighten the leash, lachesis.”

Iris, unfortunately, wasn’t in much of a position to argue. If she was half as good as she claimed to be, then she wouldn’t have even been in her current situation and wouldn’t have found herself requesting Eros’ services. She was better than that. Better than all of them, and one slight misstep meant nothing, not in the face of all the other successes that she had.

But if none of her past accomplishments meant nothing to Eros, than she had nothing else to barter. “You’re…you’re horrible at making deals,” Her face soured. Eros, it seemed, had everything to gain and nothing to lose, the opposite of Iris. She’d already lost her home, her position, and now she risked losing a friend along with it.

“How do I know anything you have to say has it’s truth?” She asked. Eros, after all, wasn’t known was the god of honesty…though, the same could be said of Iris. “I’m risking a lot more here than you are. I want…I need some sort of assurance.”

“no, you just don’t like the deals i give.” eros raises a brow, examining the skin of his knuckles before slowly meeting her eyes. “considering the thorn you’ve been in my side in the past, you should be grateful i am even willing to offer my services in the first place.”

“i am a god of my word.” a half-truth, he supposes, but when it comes to agreements, eros considers himself fair at the very least. “but clearly that isn’t enough for you. what is the assurance you seek? i am sure i can give it.”

The differences between the man she’d loved and the one before her were frightening. Psyche didn’t know him well enough anymore. And from the sound of his voice and the way he spat at the idea of any sort of peace between them, maternal instincts kicked in. The sound of Hedone’s name and the truth of her existence would remain trapped behind her lips where it wouldn’t reach him; where she wouldn’t risk Eros doing something to take her away or to hurt her in the future. But even after everything she’d heard from Apollo and others about who Eros had become, Psyche could not truly bring herself to believe he would ever endanger her or a child. Logic wanted to protest. Logic wanted to scream at Psyche that she couldn’t know and that it was hubris to believe that she could read and predict Eros the way she once did.

This was a new man before her, just as there was a new woman before him.

“Is everything that Apollo said true?” She asked darkly. “Is there nothing left of  the man I knew? The one who cared about more than himself; who was more than the child of his mother. Because all I see right now is her. And I can’t-” … bring Hedone anywhere near that. Psyche faltered, stumbling past those words instead of saying them out loud. She shook her head and begun anew. “… We were family, Eros. We still are. Eons from now, I will still feel that way. But if there’s no hope that you can offer even the slightest peace… If all you want is for me to be gone, then I will be. I can’t fight you - it’s not in me to do that.” Her temper started to rise, as did her voice. “I made a choice and I had to live with it, I still have to live with it. But this- this is your choice.”

“how curious of you to go to apollo to ask just who your husband is, when you know the kind of picture he paints of me.” eros hisses, fingers curling into hot palms. the temptation to shut down mixes dangerously with the need to lash out at psyche. the accusations of being his mother make his teeth grind out of anger, even though he knows he is hypocritical for being upset over an image he himself has created. 

“there’s no peace to offer when you can’t fucking give it to me.” eros spits, only raising his voice to match psyche’s. “you did this to me. so live with it.” it’s a low blow, he thinks, but he has done worse things than accuse his wife of being a main reason behind who he is now. 

“i’ve spent years with you gone. i can deal with you being gone a little longer.” there’s finality in a cracked tone, and eros tightens his jaw before he says anything more that he will be sure to regret later.

Rosebud petals would swirl her senses for a moment as eyes peered back at his. The flower fit perfectly at her ear as it contrasted with the curls which fell at her shoulders. The touch, his touch, felt wrong, yet it was welcomed as if he’d done it before.

“Of course I do. I love him. Many are skeptical of the girl who fell in love at first sight. Sometimes, even I question such a fate. I was only looking to attend a ball– not fall in love– especially not with a king.” 

“Sometimes I ask myself what’s so special about me?” 

She was told she was lucky, but that future husband of hers would attribute it to her beauty and character. “I’m not really sure what type of person I am anymore, as sad as that sounds…” Eyes would flutter away at the personal inquiry, the image of her on her knees would color her cheeks a pretty pink shade. “But I’d love to spend the rest of my life with him. He is my home. I’m certain–” Her mouth would twitch slyly, “If one of us is on our knees, the other would surely reciprocate sooner rather than later–” 

“fate is a funny thing then, isn’t it?” he muses, allowing his fingers to fall from the soft locks that frame her face. “you look for one thing, and end with another. question it, or don’t - either way, you create your own fate.”

to an extent of course. an amused smirk graces eros’ lips at the thought of the fellow fates, the younger one being so easy to torment. “no one has to be special to be a victim of love.” he says simply.

“you should always know the type of person you are.” but even as he says it, eros believes her, and continues to wonder how a person such as her will survive a marriage when she is so unsure of herself - and perhaps, the love she harbors. eros chuckles quietly. “if you are certain there is reciprocation, then there is no issue, hm?”

❛  I  DON’T  WANT  someone  gorgeous .  .  .    ❜  the  gifted  sighs  ,  crossing  her  arms  as  she  continued  after  him  .  ❛  i  want  someone  powerful  .  but  i  feel  like  gods  don’t  look  for  mortals  anymore  —-  has  the  trend  died  or  something  ?  ❜

pandora  smiles  ,  looking  down  as  their  fingers  intertwine  .  ❛  perhaps  .  it  would  be  nicer  if  you  shot  an  arrow  at  me  .  maybe   then  ,  i  can  finally  be  satisfied  with  some  pretty  human  .  ❜

“who said they couldn’t be mutually exclusive?” eros asked, cocking his head. eyes shift to the side at the mention of a god and a mortal, an image of psyche blossoming in a dark head. the smile, however, doesn’t disappear. “nothing is stopping you from pursuing a god. when it comes to love, anything is possible.”

the soft smile is now a grin, and an arrow is quick to notch itself upon a bow. eros points it at pandora, only for a moment, toying with the suggestion, before he says “you don’t want me to - but if you did, i would.”

“why is that?“

“you should stay for the second half.“ chernabog offers her his arm. “things always pick up then, and nobody will even notice you– except me, of course.”

“for the sole reason that everyone and their mother has decided to attend.” eira glances down at his arm with a careful wariness. it is only after a moment of hesitation, and the consideration that he has once saved her that she places delicate fingertips into the crook of his elbow. 

“to have captured anyone’s attention, even yours, defeats my purpose of being here.” there’s a hint of amusement in an otherwise cold tone.

willhelm silently nodded, understanding the sentiment albeit, he imagined, for different reasons. it wasn’t just the often invasive questions from curious mouths that bothered him. danger had followed closely wherever he goes since that night – on some days, it would come for him, and other times it would come from within him. either, they were still a threat to those around him. it was only safe to distance himself from others and not run the risk of hurting innocent people again.

still, as he took another sip of the drink, her previous comment lingered. i can’t imagine why. he finally glanced at the woman next to her for the first time. the sense of familiarity was tugging harder in the back of his mind, but it was too dark for him to fully make out her features to recognize her. he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol he’d consumed or just her presence, but the words spilled out of his mouth softly before he could even stop them. “i’ve done things i shouldn’t have – and there was a price to those mistakes.”

“we all have, haven’t we?” eira’s eyes fixate on willhelm’s, fingers folding against one another. how she wishes she could take the sadness etched in his eyes away. eira wants to reach out and touch the lines on his face in wonder of the years reflected upon his skin. 

“did you come to the wedding to escape, then?” she glances at the luxurious decorations; a sense of grandeur that was once common in eira’s life. 

r u n , it was the only word that her mind could process at the moment . run , but where ? if she waited long enough , she would become public enemy number one ; if she turned in the wrong direction she was destined for doom . she was nothing more than distant - rationality fleeing from her mind the moment she had stabbed the king . 

perhaps she’s walking too slow , perhaps she’s petrified enough that she doesn’t feel herself crushing into another body . she snaps back to reality when she sees eira in front of her . and her words ring like warning bells to juliet’s ears . 

“ no , “ juliet breathes out enough for eira to hear “ i fucked up , “

i fucked up. well, haven’t they all at one point or another? it is out of pure reflex that eira wraps fingers around juliet’s wrist, urging her to follow as she runs out of the building and into town. by now, chaos has ensued, though eira still isn’t sure what is causing the commotion - simply that it is dangerous to still be at the wedding. 

“come with me.” she speaks urgently, snatching two dark scarves from an abandoned stand, wrapping one around juliet’s face to shield her from the public. eira has no idea what she is running from, but she is no stranger to running, and that is exactly what she does with juliet in tow. 

it wasn’t really the stranger’s sudden appearance that had startled willhelm from watching the festive crowd.  it was her voice that had triggered nagging familiarity that he couldn’t quite place. but the question she uttered had staggered him the most – adding another crack on his already breaking heart, he swallowed a lump on his throat, though that didn’t quell the building longing.  “i have no one to take.”

he glanced at the drink she offered and gingerly took it, bringing it close to his mouth to sip before noting, “you’re not joining the crowd?”

to hear that such an honorable man had come here alone tugged on the princess’  heart. it is far too easy to succumb to a childish longing to trust as quickly as she used to. “i can’t imagine why.” she says quietly, offering the faintest of smiles when the glass is taken from her hands. 

“i don’t like crowds.” it is a partial lie. once upon a time, snow white thrived on the attention, always ready to entertain and befriend royalty. now, however, she has found safety in shadows, preferring to stick to the outskirts rather than the spotlight.

@otherworldkings​ (snow)

“this is the last place i’d expect to see you. have you sold out?“

“...i suppose i should have expected to see you here.”

As the night continued on, and she sat and watched other couples as she took in the whole wedding, she began feeling more and more down. However, she was determined to make it through the evening with a smile on her face, and therefore a drink in her hand. She was focusing on the couples on the dance floor (her date had left already), standing at the edge of the room, losing herself in the realizations she had hoped not to have to face when someone appeared next to her. She looked at the glass in his hand before taking it. “I prefer violins, but I’ll never say no to a flute,” she answered.

eros raises a brow, the joke only causing a small, amused smirk to appear. “is that supposed to be your definition of humor?” he asks, curiosity in his tone. white wings fold in on each other as eros looks at her with an intrigued gaze.

“did you come here alone?”

For the first time in years, Psyche’s lips twitch upwards in a smile as Eros spoke. Inhibitions and luck were on her side with him tonight; Psyche felt herself relax. She turned so her back faced the counter that she’d been standing by. As she leaned up against it, hazel eyes trailed over Eros quickly. It was like a punch in the gut to compare the last time they’d been to a party together and… this. 

“… Why shouldn’t you?” She countered calmly, watching him with a sense of ease that she did not, in fact, genuinely have. “I have never been your enemy, Eros. Whatever happens, whatever either of us do - you’re still my family… always.” She smiled a bit again and pushed off from where she leaned, restless from the truth. “Like it or not.”

eros can’t stop the painful grimace that makes him tense his jaw. with his mom being the living embodiment of chaos, his idea of “family” has always been warped, leaving psyche’s words without comfort. the pain mixes with the tenderness he feels in a worn heart at the faint sight of her smile - one that is because of him. 

white wings fold and droop, just barely touching the red folds of psyche’s dress. “because I’m still mad at you.” it’s honest, words lubricated by champagne and ambrosia. and i still love you, he bites back, instead choosing to say, “am i still your family if i’m different than before?”

“there’s no need to be glum,” the way eros lilts is cheerful. he is, admittedly, in good spirits. the god has always loved weddings and what they stood for, and has been giving blessings of love to anyone who would hear them. “nothing a little champagne won’t fix, hm?”

he offers the flute to the woman before him, nearly deciding to influence the drink pink with his powers, but deciding against it.