#icari

MY SON... IS FINISHED

his name is icari and he's stupid I lov him

i spent... so long on this n im very proud!!

random angel design i saw because i couldn't sleep last night lol

They’d both been gone for a while now.

Uri had his own matters to attend back in Aurea, and Icarus, well... he was still himself, never able to stay at the same place for too long. It was only natural that they’d be separated for some time, and Uri knew that. He knew, and still, it bothered him.

Every time he had to let Icarus go, it felt like a part of himself went with him. Everything seemed colder, drearier, unwelcoming without him around. The first days were the toughest. Uri found himself laying down, sprawled over his bed, missing the presence of the man that often laid next to him, asleep, safe and sound. 

This wasn’t one of the first days. No, in fact, they hadn’t been able to see eachother in months. Uri had just gotten back home, mind occupied with a million things as he took off his shoes and laid on the couch for a few moments. That was what he intended to do at first, at least, if he hadn’t been rather startled by a loud thud in the kitchen.

Uri hurried to look, and to his surprise, what he found was Icarus, near a quite clearly broken window. 

“Hello there, soldier boy.”

“What happened?!” 

Icarus laughed, and by god, Uri missed hearing him laugh. Even if it was as simple as this. “I see you haven’t changed in the last months. It’s good to see you again.”

“W-well, yes, I am glad to see you, but why are you in my kitchen, and why is the window broken?” He stuttered, a bit too surprised over everything to make much sense. Uri sighed lightly, and crouched to help the man stand. 

“I heard someone come in, and I didn’t know who it could be.” Icarus shrugged his shoulders, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. Before Uri had the chance to say a word, however, he pulled him in for a kiss.

In the intention, it should have been a quick peck, but by now, Icarus knew Uri wouldn’t let that happen, as he took no time before cupping the man’s cheek and pulling him closer and closer. The older Iskandar felt his heart race, and his grip on Uri’s hair tighten, their lips missing the warmth of eachother so much.

“I missed you.” Uri murmured, still so close he felt as if he were whispering into the man’s lips. Icarus grinned, eyes still closed. 

“I missed you, too.” He sighed, thumb brushing over the soldier’s cheek. His skin felt warm, as it always did. He pressed another kiss to the Aurean’s lips, who gladly returned that.

“I love you.” A hoarse whisper escaped from Uri’s kiss reddened lips. In any other situation, the words may have caught Icarus off guard, or made him hesitate. 

But this time, for once, he knew with absolute certainty what to say in return.

@internetremix I was originally gonna make a scene or landscape with tiles but everything looked too blocky so my courage broke and I made a sprite instead. Obviously disregard the canon below if it wasn’t what you were going for, Jojo:

The West wind was created last, and the only one created by Highwind priest Borias 25 years before war would break out, rather than his predecessor, for the other winds had either died and neglected their duties to garner foreign techniques and knowledge belonging to the other elemental peoples, and, if possible, the most treasured prize of all, one that none of the other three had ever gotten: foreign magical techniques.

The west wind in stories and myth was an entity known for trickery and misdirection, being weaker than it’s siblings, and to that end, the human who dared take that mythical thing’s name for itself mimics that trait strongly.

Icarus turned slowly when he heard the door of his cell open with a groan. He was mildly surprised by the short fiery red hair and flaming golden eyes that greet him. He hadn't expected Uri to hear about his imprisonment, much less to come visit him.

"What the hell?!"

The questions, though, he had expected them. The roughness of Uri's tone, between anger and distress, he had expected it too. He wondered idly how conflicted Uri "Justice and Honor" Elrich might feel about one of his lover being a criminal.

"Castor couldn't tell me more than that you had been arrested, and you know I don't trust rumors." He said. "What did you do? Some say you killed someone." He let out an awkward sort of laugh, and glanced at Icarus, as if waiting for him to laugh with him and deny the rumor.

But Icarus remained stoically silent. Uri's face crumbled.

"I don't believe it." He shook his head firmly. "I refuse to believe it. You told me yourself that you could never kill anyone!" He exclaimed.

"You'd believe a criminal telling you they didn't commit a felony they were accused of? Weirdly trusting of you, soldier boy." Icarus smirked.

"Don't make fun of this situation." Uri almost pulled at his own hair in frustration. "You're being put on trial for murder, Icarus!"

Icarus barked out a sort of laugh, short lived, disbelieving, and bitter.

"On trial? Oh Uri, there is no such thing as trials, here. I was suspected of murder, declared guilty, and sentenced to death."

Uri's mouth fell open, speechless. Death? His lips opened and closed without a sound, completely at a loss for words. "Death?" He repeated when he finally found his voice again. "But- but what about... what about- there's got to be something we can do to save you!"

"What about justice, Commander Elrich? You'd let a man accused of murder roam free, unpunished?"

"Icarus please." Uri said, approaching him slowly. "I know you're innocent, please let me help you prove that." Icarus stayed quiet. "Please." Uri pleaded one more time, his tone quiet and his eyes showing a distress he wasn't used to feeling anymore. "I don't think I could live alone again." He whispered.

Icarus looked at him, silver eyes in golden irises. "You won't be alone, Uri." He said quietly.

"You know what I mean."

"I don't think I could live without you again." was what Uri meant. But as true as it was, he wouldn't say it. And how true it was... Somehow, he had gotten used to Icarus' challenging personality, to his teasing, to his thoughtful compliments, to the place he took in his home, in his heart... Losing Icarus... it would feel like losing a part of himself, a piece of him he came to hold dear. But saying it, now of all time, it would be selfish, wouldn't it? Icarus deserved to know how Uri felt about him, but now as he was running towards his death, they had more pressing matters to attend to, something more important than Uri's feelings for a walking corpse.

"What about Lux?" Uri asked when the thought of the youngest Iskandar sibling hit him. "They can do something to help you, can't they?"

Icarus' face darkened at the name of his sibling. His grey eyes flamed with the first emotions Uri had seen of all their conversation: anger, and sadness. Uri wasn't sure who they were directed at.

Icarus is not sure what made him show himself that night. He was only supposed to be in passing; get what he needed, and then leave immediately. Instead, he is still there, hidden under the docks of Vesuvia. He should have left when the man had appeared. Mingling with a Lander’s private business isn’t always a good idea, especially with men. But this one, who is standing on the edge of the pier and looking out the sea… Icarus doesn’t like what he senses from him. Melancholia, nostalgia, fear… And so he stays, in case the Lander tries to do something terrible, like jump and drown himself.

The man sighs, steels his shoulders, and takes a step forward, inching closer to the edge of the jetty, and Icarus kicks out of his hiding place with a strong swerve of his tail. The man jumps away with a cry of surprise, startled.

“How long have you been here?” he yelps, a hand over his heart, which Icarus can hear beating rapidly, and another at his waist, where a weapon is resting.

“Long enough to wonder when you’d start monologuing.” Icarus replies, a bored tone to his voice.

He eyes the Lander’s weapon and clothes while the Lander observes him. Icarus feels golden eyes rake over his bare torso, the scales of his tail underwater, and do a double-take at the spines on his back. He raises his own eyes to the Lander’s, which he finds wide and staring, unblinking, or blinking too rapidly to see it.

“Do I scare you?” Icarus hears himself ask.

“Huh? No- no I’m not scared.” The Lander huffs, red blooming on his cheeks. He shuffles nervously on his feet, glancing away from Icarus, but his eyes are inevitably drawn again to Icarus’ spines. “Are you poisonous?”

Icarus nearly makes a show of rolling his eyes and yawning. He was expecting that question. He is always asked that question.

“Do you want to find out?” he drawls instead of answering.

The Lander squints at him, like he’s trying to determine whether Icarus is serious or not. In the end he shakes his head and extends his hand.

“I’m Commander Uri Elrich.” he introduces himself, something solennel, hilariously so, in his voice.

Icarus doesn’t even look at the offered hand. “Good to know. You’re mine, now.” he purrs, looking up at the man through his eyelashes.

The Lander’s – Uri – eyes widen comically and his mouth falls open. The colour on his cheeks darken at an alarmingly fast pace.

“Wh-what?”

Icarus grins. “Oh, haven’t you heard? Mers work like Faes. Give me your name, and you belong to me.”

Uri’s expression cedes to shock, regret, panic, in a matter of seconds. He flails around, mouth opening and closing, stutters around words of excuse and denial, while Icarus slowly, discreetly, swims closer to the pier.

“You Landers have no sense of humor.” Icarus sighs, shaking his head.

The dock is a little too high for him to reach from underwater. He gathers his magic into a pedestal under him and raises it to rest his arms on the wooden planks. Uri takes a few steps back, his face a mixture of weariness and wonder.

“You were... messing with me?” he asks, brows joined in confusion. “The Fae thing... it’s not real?”

“Well it could be. I could do it, if I wanted to.” Icarus answers, head tilted to the side, observing the man. “But you seem like you already have that around your neck.”

Uri unconsciously reaches a hand up to his neck.

“How did you- How did you know?” he whispers breathlessly.

“I observed you, just a minute ago. It seems rather obvious that you are here, in Vesuvia, against your will. But you are a soldier, a highly graded and trained one. You could have escaped, fled this city easily. Unless someone was holding you on a leash.”

Uri’s eyes flash with anger. “I’m not held on a leash!” he snarls.