#fem!tarmiel

[venuscxre]

— 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐃 ; 𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐋

summary ; at the height of the holy war, the goddess clan suffers a great loss, but ludociel’s loss is greater.

pairing ; ludociel / black fem!reader

wc ; 2.0k

tags ; set during the first holy war, angst, death, themes of war, descriptions of dead body, slight body worship, hurt/no comfort, ludociel actually showing emotion.

𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠

something bad is ‘bout to happen to me.

ludociel stares at the scene laid out in front of him, his eyes actually open for a change, but within their pearly pools is something unreadable, something dark and grief filled. and he’s spiralling, terribly so, as beads of sweat drip down his forehead; his breathing out of its normal pace.

he watches on in silence as one of the medics remorsefully drapes a white cloth over the dead body of his younger brother, a stone cold expression on his face. his blood that was once boiling over had now run cold at the realization that he’s lost mael, his baby brother. he’s lost his pride and joy.

the medic looks up at him, then averts her gaze back to the fallen goddess. a strong man was he, tis’ a shame that his soul has departed. as tradition, she mutters a small prayer before standing up straight and clearing her throat. 

“i’m very sorry for your loss, sir ludociel,” she offers a sympathetic look, but he doesn’t respond to her. it’s obvious that he’s dissociating, memories flashing through his head, all going far too quickly for his liking. the world begins to fade out the longer he stares at the corpse. he feels sick.

i don’t know it, but i feel it coming.

the medic steps out to give him some privacy and goes off to tend to more injured soldiers, seeing as healers in this war are short on hands. people are always flocking to be a part of the war and die in glory but nobody ever wants to help keep the injured alive, that’s why soldiers in the goddess clan never last long. them and their damn pride.

as she walks, the distinct sounds of wails and yells for a medic could be heard. she speeds up her pace. “what ever is the matter? what is–“ 

“no, this has to be a joke! wake up, your highness, please! you have to wake up!”

the medic pauses as she watches the scene in front of her unfold. the loud sobs of lilian, who she recognizes as the second daughter of the earl of the azure region, and the lady-in-waiting of the realm’s first princess. to have her sobbing like this could only mean…

“out of the way! coming through!” she pushes past the less experienced healers to assess the situation and the sight that greets her, makes her spine shiver. “o-oh… oh, stars… this is...”

meanwhile, ludociel is still standing over his brother’s corpse, his mind muddled with thoughts of how he’d failed as an older brother. but, the increasingly loud wails of your lady-in-waiting, jolts the archangel back to reality. her heart wrenching wails and desperate pleas for you to open your eyes makes his heart drop to the pits of his stomach. an uneasy feeling immediately settles over him.

outside the room, chaos had erupted. the medic that had been tending to his brother’s body was desperately trying to heal you, to no avail.  

the archangel hadn’t the slightest clue as to what was happening, but with the way that lilian was sobbing, he needn’t a soothsayer to tell him that something had just happened. With brisk steps, ludociel exits the room to see what the commotion was all about, muttering a small prayer in the hopes that the worst hadn’t happened. not to you, he couldn’t bear that. not now, not in this moment. not ever.

however, it seems that the creator had surely ignored his prayer, or rather, he might have offered that prayer far too late. the first thing ludociel sees when he steps out is lilian sobbing on the floor in front of tarmiel who was trying to hold her back and coax her into a more calm state while the medical staff taht were present all gathered around something, or someone. everyone seemed to be in disarray. 

might be so sad, might leave my nose running.

“your highness, please…”

“in the name of the stars, what is happening over here? tarmiel, escort lady lilian to someplace more quiet,” ludociel speaks, stepping closer. he peers down at the medical staff who are all huddled together on the floor. 

“move.”

there’s an awkward silence; he’s ticked off and his patience is stretched thin. “i said, move. i won’t repeat myself a third time.”

begrudgingly, the staff move away from whatever it is that they're hiding from his sight, and ludociel actually regrets ordering them to do so. if his world hadn’t already crashed when he’d seen mael’s corpse, it definitely did now. 

there’s a long pause as he stares down at the ground, his forehead creased as if unable to comprehend what he was seeing. his gaze shifts over to sariel who had been quietly observing the scene, however the latter couldn’t bring himself to look his comrade in the eye. 

ludociel feels his mouth run dry, and his throat is closing up. his ashen eyes flit down to the mangled corpse on the floor, he feels his heart drop down to his feet; the gruesome sight of the woman he’s dedicated himself to serving — loving, laying limply and lifelessly served to be his final straw.

“sariel, what…” ludociel doesn’t finish his sentence, or rather, he couldn’t, and that’s astounding for a man who knows what to say in any situation; this one, however, has rendered him completely speechless. the silence of the other archangel makes things worse.

the medics all have their heads bowed and are silently offering their prayers. sariel watches on from the sidelines silently, his eyes downcast as well.

ludociel walks closer, and the state in which your body is in makes bile rise through his throat. it’s much, much worse than mael’s body. whoever killed you, lacked any compassion and delivered their hits mercilessly.

despite their attempts at healing you, your neck remains twisted in an irregular angle, and those beautiful eyes of yours that were once so bright and full of life, stare off soullessly. it unsettles him at how someone whose eyes sparkled so brightly, would have their light die out like this.

the rest of your body is in an even more terrible state, and he can’t even bear to look at you, feeling the urge to shut his eyes once more. your fluffy white wings which would always puff up when you were cold, were reduced to a dirty, blood soaked mess of broken bones and scarce feathers. your soft body, the one he would always worship like you were the supreme deity herself, is littered with cuts and deep gashes, not as bad as they were before, but not good either. some of them are still bleeding, the crimson liquid spilling onto the white, marble floors, effectively painting them with the essence of your life.

“…”

ludociel kneels and scoops your body into his arms, his hold on you gentle. your lover holds you close to his chest, not minding the blood and dirt that soils the white garment he wears over his armour, his only thought is to at least feel you and your warmth one last time. but, a man can only dream. you were cold, long gone. ludociel feels sick.

the longer he stares at your corpse, the more his stoic demeanour cracks. it’s like everything around him is losing colour and turning his surroundings to a dull grey. the voices, the wails, the rampages of war begin to get blocked out as he falls back into his head. ludociel is tittering on the edge of breaking down into a fit of tears as he’s painfully reminded of his words to you earlier. he wants nothing more than to hit himself. he can’t bear to face the realization that he’s lost everything he was fighting for. his little brother and his lover. oh, the tragedy.

he’d planned to propose to you once the war was over, planned to take your last name or give you his, whichever you’d like more. he’d planned to have mael as his best man and share the most special day of his life with the one family member that he actually cares about, but those filthy demons had to go and pry that wishful thinking out of his hands. his grief gives way to an underlying rage that he doesn’t allow himself to feel. ‘not yet, ludociel. not yet.’

ludociel promptly turns on his heel and walks away as silent as he came, leaving the rest of the medical staff and sariel to exchange silent glances. as intimidating of a man ludociel is, he has emotions too, and having to send off a family member and a lover in one go? that might be the hardest thing he’ll have to do, and they can’t help but pity him.

“oh, stars..”

ludociel reenters the room where his brother was officially announced dead. the archangel sets you down on the bed next to mael’s with a grim expression, his armoured hand softly stroking the skin of your cheek. 

“my darling..” he whispers, ashen eyes taking in your appearance. even though you’re nothing but a bloody corpse, you’re still as beautiful as the day he first laid his eyes on you.

ludociel takes his gauntlets off, his tanned skin tracing the skin of your face, then falls down to your neck, and continues its way down. he takes his time, his hands running down your chest, to your thighs, and occasionally slipping underneath you to drag them up your spine. his lips eventually follow suit. every touch and every kiss is accompanied by him healing your wounds, restoring your body to its former glory in an act of worship. 

somehow, he feels unworthy to touch and kiss you like this, but you’re going to be cremated, your body and soul going back into the higher heavens where they belong. he knows that this is the last time he can do touch you this way, because if he doesn’t do this now, he won’t get the chance ever again, and that thought kills him inside a little more.

before he finally comes to terms with your passing, ludociel kisses your lips. they’re cold and cracked, a stark contrast to the warm, supple and sweet-tasting lips he’s normally used to.

should he be kissing a corpse? no, that’s far from hygienic.

does that stop him? also no.

gazing at you for a moment longer, ludociel allows himself to shed a tear or two for you and mael in an act of mourning; he won’t get this chance for a while. he kisses you one last time. a kiss goodbye.

“rest well, my love.”

i just hope she don’t wanna leave me.

at 8:10 p.m on august 3rd, xxx, stigma headquarters captured and disposed of thousands of demon civilians near the fairy king’s forest, effectively ending the long standing peace treaty established by the first princess and first prince of the goddess and demon clans respectively, therefore, kickstaring and heightening the holy war. 

at 9:30 p.m, archangel mael fell victim to and died from an encounter with the ten commandments’ estarossa of benevolence. roughly half an hour later, the second princess of the goddess clan, elizabeth, and the first prince of the demon clan, meliodas, died as well; cause unknown. 

at 10:49 p.m, her highness, the first princess perished from an ambush orchestrated and executed by the ten commandments’ monspeet of reticence and derieri of purity in an act of vengeance for their fallen people. 

with the death of these four major figures, stigma and its allying clans have taken a loss and the victory of this war has fallen into the lap of the demon clan. archangel ludociel has arranged for “the sealing.” her majesty, the supreme deity and the leaders of the allying races of stigma have all consented.

this is the peak of the holy war, the decider of britannia’s fate. will the guiding hand of light prevail or will the bloodline of darkness rule the land for millennia to come? 

whatever it may be, may the creator and the stars help us all. 

© 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒𝐂𝐗𝐑𝐄; plagiarism, retranslation or reposts of my work is completely unauthorized.

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated. <33

[saki--draws--stuff]

I was thinking, since I've already drawn fem! Mael, why not continue with fem! Tarmiel? I really like how this one turned out 💚🧡💜

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