#krovidym

     her last memories ( ---- don’t think about erik ) are of her shallow breathing, slipping in and out of consciousness. the scent of her blood sluggishly mixing with the dusty floor. the struggle to keep hold of her shift, because ... because? because he told her to, because she couldn’t slip up, because she had to stay hidden. the pain lancing down her side, her legs, with every inhalation that made her just want to stop. the sound of footsteps, coming closer and closer and closer --

     there is cotton under her hands. the feel of a mattress pressing against her back. raven has no idea where she is. she can barely see but swings immediately out of the bed, snarling, arms reaching out. her hands, searching for a weapon, for a face to hit, anything, sweep something off a bedside table. it crashes to the ground and the sound echoes in her skull, makes it pound.

     there’s a sinking feeling in her gut when she realizes that her shift is down, her skin blue and bright and scaled in daylight. the feeling sharpens itself into fear and panic. she has no idea where she is. raven tries to walk and her knee almost gives up on her. something catches her by the elbow and she hits back, hard, instinctively, blindly, she can’t see, she can’t see ----

bone spurs and wrapped hands. cracked pottery melded back together with molten gold. the ragged emptiness of a dusty basement. a slender, backlit silhouette weaving through a flashing, neon-lit nightclub. blood running down an outstretched, pale arm. steady, heavy footfalls down an old hallway during rain.

describe my muse’s aesthetic.

Alex is used to Raven being blue, and actually kind of prefers Hank blue, and at this point has stopped being shocked by much, but it’s always a little bit of a jolt to see somebody walking around who looks like a drawing of the devil.  Even though he’s not religious.

As far as he knows, this isn’t a regular thing, although he’s occasionally seen flashes of red around corners, usually near one of Magneto’s---group---but he’s never actually seen the guy walking around.  And it’s hard to forget the whole plummeting through the air thing.

He looks around for Raven.  Doesn’t see her.  Magneto’s not hanging around, either.  Angel, maybe?  Also no.

It’s a little late to be subtle about beating a retreat, though.

Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship 

1. erik is jealous of his physical mutation

2. azazel has probs seen erik in a more vulnerable position than most ppl bcause at the start of a panic attack or the usual overwhelming sense of dread and claustrophobia erik goes and finds azazel and is V Unromantically like ‘take me someone’ and they poof off and chill on a roof in czechoslovakia for a few hours

3. azazel is very high up on his list of trusted brotherhood lieutenants

she’s lazing around, a rarity in itself, but lazing around him, even more so. he has just finished, and pads over to her, tail flicking in the air.

her gold eyes, extremely unaffected, match the honeyed tone of her voice, loose-limbed, relaxed, at ease with herself like she so rarely is these days.

it’s been a while since she’s been on a mission with him -- for months, now, it’s just been her or her and erik. the mission is almost over; all they have left to do is pounce on their mark tomorrow, raven will shift and take what they need. they’ll cause alarm -- but they mean to, and between her and azazel, they’re equipped to handle most situations.

all in all, it seems like a good mission to her.

she steps out of the bathroom, braiding her damp, fiery hair, rolling a shoulder to get the kinks out.

technically speaking, this place is stolen; it seems only karmic that it’s got no hot water. the cold makes the scar on her abdomen ache, though it’s slowly fading, and she runs the edge of her thumb along the end.

she doesn’t really know what to say to azazel; she’s much more comfortable with watching him. the play of light on his red skin, where hers is blue, his scars, where hers is scaled. his long absences don’t make it easy to fall into a pattern, to get to know him.

raven sits herself across him and studies him, not entirely caring if he’s uncomfortable. then, her voice, a surprise to even herself --