#im write

does anyone want to read now 202 words of kreon stomach bulge that stop abruptly bc i dont have anywhere i was going with it

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"Pray excuse my uncouth mouth," she snarls and Urianger could burn in the fury radiating off of her, would do so a thousand times just to feel it's warmth. "But what the fuck was that stunt back there?" The caring, the acknowledgement, it's enough to get drunk on. Ryne is looking between the Warrior and Urianger with mounting panic while Thancred cleans his gunblade, seemingly relaxed - were it not for the clench in his jaw. 

"'Tis a spell with which thou shouldst be familiar; rescue -" 

"I know damn well what rescue does," she's in his face, jostling his injured arm, eyes fixed on his with an intensity that tells him why she is the one slaying gods and he is the one keeping secrets. "That doesn't explain why you used it so recklessly!"

Urianger is a man starved of her attention but he cannot tell her that; when he chose to withhold the Exarchs identity he also knew he would carry the consequences. Martyrdom suits you Urianger, Y'shtola had remarked once, voice hard. 

He thought so as well - prepared to do whatever it took, lies twisting and intertwining, finding life on their own as time saw them grow. He would do what no one else could he told himself - sipping on hubris like it was a sweet wine - he would make a difference. Carve a space for his own contribution. 

But now the Warrior wouldn't look at him. 

And he found he could not stand it.

All his conviction fell apart in the face of her coldness, a selfish coward who talks big but in the low lightning of dusk would beg for her forgiveness a thousand times, again and again to bring the light in her eyes back. She is polite but far away, a goddess he is not worthy of worshipping; the neutrality hurts more than the disdain would. Hatred, love, he will take anything but the nothingness of absence.

🔪

Being grabbed by the shirt and thrown backwards is a familiar sensation, at least. Though usually Leon doesn't bounce as he lands, falling onto thin sheets rather than hard ground. A large, sturdy body crawling on top of him, crushing him beneath its weight is more familiar, but then there's a mouth pressed against his neck, already digging teeth into Leon's throat.

That part is relatively new.