you were a weapon first, the chosen one second. (you never really got the chance to be a child.)
you worked, and you failed, and you worked, and you failed, over and over for years.
you knew you weren't good enough- it was hard to ignore the look in their eyes. that look said more to you than they ever did.
it said more than enough, as well.
sometimes, thinking back on those years of your life spent beaten down and hauled back up again, youre filled with rage.
indescribable, unholy anger that fills you up until you want to tear the world down and gnash your teeth.
other times, it just drowns you in oily shame, in guilt, in worthlessness that lives within you.
sometimes, you dont know who you hate more; them, for taking so much from you, or yourself, for never being able to give enough.
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🦴 bony kisses 🦴
Teeth pressing softly to your lips, hands as pale, hard, smooth but rough as unsealed porcelain cupping your face, holding you. Eyesockets impossibly drawn shut, an echo of your own fluttering eyelids as you tilt into the contact, his browbone furrowing and moving to follow, closer, deeper... Melting against him as a hand drifts to the back of your neck, phalanges carding through the hair at your scalp, making you sigh into his mouth, sweet, open...
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how do you imagine it to go? :0 - 👹
I WAS planning on saving it till I get my comic out but it'll honestly probably be a bit of a while till then soooo
BEWARE this turned out a LOT longer than I expected lmfao (and I change writing styles like 3 times)
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Basically, Hornet, Herrah and WL are in the castle gardens having a picnic. Both queens are just chatting bc, for all Herrah despises PK, she actually gets along p well with WL, while Hornet is munching on a sandwich.
Then WL feels a sudden and intense mix of despair, pain, grief from the other end of her and PK's bond. (bc I interpret it as like. A shared soul kinda thing??? They can kinda project each other's emotions n shit) She's never felt these emotions from her husband before, nevermind anything so strong, so she immediately knows something is very wrong.
She rushes out of the room with barely a word of goodbye, which is INCREDIBLY out of character since she's generally the most calm and polite person in any given situation, so Herrah figured it'd be best to follow, and on the way out she tells a retainer to keep an eye on Hornet, telling the princess that WL needs help and she can't come along bc it might be dangerous
Which then spurs Hornet to follow her mother, bc she's not a baby, she can handle herself. And what if her mum needs help and she's not there?? Obviously she HAS to go. To protect her mum. And WL. But mostly her mum.
WL and Herrah make it to PK's workshop at p much the same time, and they're greeted with the sight of PK cradling the Pure Vessel to his chest, one hand carding through their hair in a mockery of comfort. He's kinda just. Staring off into the middle distance, and the tears streaming down his face are left to drip down his chin and into the vessel's hair. It's like he doesn't even realise he's crying.
Herrah, who had initially opened her mouth to loudly demand an explanation, recognises the situation for what it is: a parent's grief. It's something she's never experienced herself (thank the gods) but she's seen that exact look on the faces of her people after another child is found dead at the hands of a nosk. It's not an expression she ever expected to see on the Pale Wyrm's face, but nevertheless, she grapples together as much compassion as she can and begins, "Wyrm..."
That seems to startle the King out of his thoughts, and he whips his head around, subconsciously cradling the vessel even closer, and staining his hands and robes even further with the ichor that's slowly seeping out of a large hole in their chest.
A hole. In their chest. Tinted orange.
"what the fuck."
The King looks between both queen's, an almost pleading look in his eyes, before seeming to steel himself, and opening his mouth to speak.
*BANG*
The doors suddenly swing open to reveal a tiny princess, waving around her wooden training nail, grinning and bouncing on the balls of her feet,
"HEY MAMA!! I know you said it might be dangerous but I swear I can help-
"..Holly??"
The little girl's eyes are fixed on the still form of the vessel, and Herrah decides in that moment that she needs to move now. Everything else can wait until later, her baby does NOT need to see this.
She crouches in front of Hornet, and gently takes her face in one hand,
“Look at me baby, c’mon let’s get-“
"They're gonna be okay, right??" Her eyes are drifting over her mother's shoulder, taking in the sight of her father, crying, holding her sibling like they'll disappear if he loosens his grip. They're still. Too still. They're never this still, even when they're pretending to be a statue, and especially not around her.
Herrah takes her face in both her hands this time, and Hornet has no other choice but to look at the forlorn look on her face, "Honey I don't think-"
"NO!!" She tears herself away from her mother and begins to run towards her fallen sibling, intending to shake them, kick them, bite them, anything that'll make them wake up because,
"THEY PROMISED!! They said they'd play hide and seek with me if I was good at dinner time today!! So they HAVE to wake up!!" But her mother grabs her by the waist and holds her to her chest before she can take more than two steps, enduring the kicking and punching and scratching that her daughter rains down upon her, anger slowly teetering off into sobs,
"They promised..."
It's all Herrah can do to cradle her child, offering empty condolences, shushing her and slowly rocking back and forth, until she eventually tires herself out enough to fall into a restless sleep.
The King and Queen look at her as she stands up,
"I'm going to put Hornet to bed, and when I return I expect you to have pulled yourself together, Wyrm, enough to tell me what the fuck has happened in here."
The doors decidedly don't slam on the way out, if only to keep her sleeping daughter from waking up.
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