#hellscourges

[lordsrot]

It was suffocating, that aura of need, bloody justice and revenge served raw. He feed into it, sensing potential in her relentlessness. This warrior could be lead. So the Lord encouraged her, offering the very palms of his dark hands for her to dine from. And she did. Fervently so. And it took so little effort.

@hellscourges ❝your true face… what kind of face is it? i wonder… the face under the mask… is that your true face?❞

"One thou shall not lay eyes upon." He is swift to snuff out Nevyrine's curiosity with a curt response. Such a day was unlikely to come to pass. The Lord of Rot was unsightly. In his own wicked gaze and the frightful gaze of others, the fear of unknowing. Thus he will remain the looming figure of mystery and renown draped in robes and jewels that pool 'pon the floor at his feet. Left as an deathly idol that shouldn't be unmasked, unhelmed.

Gently clawed finger tips close about her face, holding her gaze to stare into the dance of flames in his own. His tone softens, "Thou shall be left to wonder, Nevyrine. Doth my true image affect the manner in which you serve?"

[lifesver]

ana was always pretty good at it. not making him feel stupid. leland tries to smile back at her. it wobbles with the unsteadiness coiled up in his chest.

❝ that's okay, really, ana. thank you. ❞ he doesn't want her to feel like she has to take care of him, or anything. like that's the only reason he'd come here. that he didn’t think about knocking on her door, other days. just to see her. to talk.

to be friends, like they were. or used to be.

but inevitably, she asks him what had happened. which he owes her an answer for. and inevitably, he wants to retreat into himself. wants to disappear. expression goes blank, stony. something sickeningly ashamed burning at the back of his neck. he doesn't mean to, but he flinches back slightly.

❝ nothing— ❞ it comes out defensively, jagged. leland catches himself right away, and guilt pangs across his face. ❝ it was — my fault, ❞ he tries again, dodging her serious look as she carefully turns his face to look him over. he lets her, this time.

it's not fair to her. she knows him better than this; lying won't work. ❝ i'm sorry. i'm okay, ❞ he reassures her, quietly. clears his throat as he gently pulls away to stand again. he palms at his eyes quickly, and ana politely doesn't acknowledge it. leland lets her guide him away from the dogs, and sits down on her couch. registers how tired he feels, through his entire body.

wonders, suddenly — would mom worry? he still feels guilty for leaving without a word. he'd call her later, let her know he would be home in the morning. she would probably understand. and then he'd figure out how to pull himself together enough to get out of ana's hair. yeah, that’d work.

( — then you might consider quittin’ bein' such a goddamn waste of space around here, leland— )

leland blinks fast, dispels his thoughts. watches ana cross back into the room, armed with a pack of frozen vegetables wrapped in a dishtowel, and a mug of something. steam drifts off into the air from the top.

ana parks herself in front of him again, and he winces as the freezing cold touches his cheek, but it soothes the ache into something more manageable. he croaks a little 'thank you' to her, and moves his hand to hold the frozen veggie pack in place himself.

he bites back the impulse to apologize, again — as ana frets over him. like a fucking broken record. sorry for bothering you. sorry for taking up space, i guess. he hates it. it seems like all that wants to come out of his mouth, some days.

her question hangs in the air between them, and there's a sting to the reality of it, isn’t there? the rest of their friend group had fallen apart and scattered to the wind. she's wondering if he's come to her, because there's no one else. he knows her, too.

yes, he thinks — we’re the only ones left. no — that doesn’t change that it probably would have still been you, even if we weren’t.

❝ i don't know, ❞ he admits, gently. his brows furrow down; ❝ i didn’t… really think about it. ❞ maybe that wasn’t the right answer, either. he lowers the makeshift ice pack. lowers his gaze, too. ❝ thanks — for opening the door, though. ❞ a soft laugh, like it's meant to be lighthearted. leland tries to give her something more convincing in the way of a smile. he doesn’t want her to feel sorry for him. or angry for him. like she still has to protect him. get mad when doesn't have the spine to do it for himself.

she has enough bullshit to deal with.

and he wants to talk about something else.

❝ so — what are you, um, reading? ❞ he ventures, after a moment. eyes landing on the book she’d set aside.

the heavy rain raged on outside, as ana pulled leland into the warmth of her home and offering him her previous spot on the sofa. quickly, she busied herself with getting him some tea.

“hi, honey.” her tone inquisitive and worried but a comforting smile cracked on her face seeing him there. if only it was on better terms. “it's alright, really, i wasn't sleeping anyway. i was just reading to the dogs. they like it.” it was always for her own comfort, just as she used to read to leland. it felt like a lifetime ago that they'd spend hours laying in her backyard under a tree, reading and rereading books. ana always overanalyzing them and annotating them. all of her favorite books scribbled in and highlighted, chicken scratch in the margins.

down the hall, into a spare room, rummaging through drawers for some clothes left here from years prior... ana frowned, only a baggy brown t-shirt she couldn't even tell which of the boys it once belonged to anymore.

“i'm sorry, i don't really have any dry clothes for you, i did a bit of spring cleaning a few months back and i must've tossed most—” her sentence fell off as she looked down at him, knelt by maverick with a shining bruise decorating his redden face. eyes softened, a look only leland and maria had ever seen from her. maria reflected on her face in those moments of gentleness, the walls ana had spent years building crumbling down any time lee looked at her.

“oh, cariño.” she set down the shirt and reached out for him, crouching down to look him straight on. “no, no, why are you sorry? what happened?”

leland had never been a burden to her, and despite her attempts at isolation, his company was always appreciated. scarred fingers grazed his face, hovering over the fresh wound while her other rested on his jaw, turning his face to look at the bruise better.

her own jaw went taut, eyes darkened and narrow, but she bit her tongue. it had to have been his father she knew leland didn't need to hear her start snapping about her years-long distaste for cecil mckinney, having rarely heard a tolerable thing about him. it wasn't like she had a great view on her own father. or danny's... or connie's... a general distrust in most fathers was deeply rooted in her chest and this only solidified every hateful thing she'd neglected to shout to lee about his dad. it wouldn't be fair of her to go on a tangent, but someone needed to be angry. ana was angry for leland, she'd always felt a pang of lividness when it came to anyone hurting her friends, felt anger for them, sadness, fear, courage. every emotion they couldn't bear to feel, or were too scared to, she shouldered and carried it for them.

a heavy sigh followed by pursed lips and averted eyes. “sit.” she instructed firmly, but with the compassion he needed. ana stood and disappeared into her kitchen, returning with the hot mug of tea and a bag of frozen green beans wrapped in a dishrag.

“you can stay here until you're ready to go home, however long that is. you know where everything is, make yourself at home.” ana fussed with his face some more, tilting his jaw in her fingers and examining him closer. she rested the bag of veggies on his cheek and met his downturned gaze.

“why me?” she questioned softly, wondering why he'd chosen to come to her, why when he left his house was ana the person he thought to go to. maybe it was just that she was all that was left.

[chaosprinceundivided]

The Silverspined Ballat

Their laughter was a song in the wind of battle. Their every movement a capture of the weak-willed and passionate. Their sword a keen baton that conducted the symphony. The curvaceous giant danced on dainty feet, crushing bodies and claws disembowled in their spiralling acrobatics.

Jaz'mahnn Silverspine was the eye of the wild storm. Intestines flung and arches of fluids were abnormal in their flight and twists. Yet none of it touched beautiful hide nor armour. Long fleshed whiskers were serpents in water, glowing with the spots of the bioluminscous adoration fit of the deepal abyssal beasts below the seas. The warriors of Khorne hollered and screamed as he stamped and bounded.

The parade of seekers and hellstriders on their steeds were shimmering of many colors from their armour and hide, chitinous spears and lances of beautiful making impaled hearts and swept limbs free.

O Mother of mine

I dance in your glory

Sweet of ichor and thundrous of voice

I hear you call onto me

The storm of souls scream o so sweet

Listen

The rhythmic crashes of their own hooves crashing with the landing of screaming hellcannon munitions.

Listen

Earth becoming scarred of blood-filling craters.

Listen~!

Hellscourges crack their heinous tendrils, carving into flesh, coiling throats and tearing sanguine free with spine-quivering screams of agony and rage.

O Mother, I give onto you my tribute

Of the Pain of Wrath and Excess of Their Souls Aplenty

The chorus of his armour-clad maidens danced and dueled with their blood-hide cousins, claws of gleaming keen blades and swords of envy-ensuring malice against burning swords of hell. Death of the body meant nothing, all dedicated to the art of battle between the two. Even their final breathes were of art.

Filthy Cousins Ours

Mud-eating Brutes

Monotonous callers of Throne-settled Bore

Gluttons of Bloods

Hoarders of Skulls

Each height of their vocals matched by their ferocity. The armies of garnished violet and pinks crashing and waltzing with scarlet and brass.

Mortal warriors smashing, their individualism becoming a heinous tide of true chaos into a sickening crash of rival seas meeting and melding with their blood becoming the paint that Jazmahnn stroked. The Exalted Keeper of Secrets danced in the mists of freed souls, inhaling it all while lifting a Chaos Lord in a hand. Their eyes looking as tender as a love and voice a woman's confession.

Deep, O Mother. Do we love them.

Deep we desire, Deep down...we desire their everything.

We shall take them...till there is nothing~

Her voice so beautiful, full bottom lip coming to kiss on the Lord of Khorne's warbands while her long clawed fingers splayed him out despite all of that musclebound struggle. A mere toy to her desire. The struggle weakening. A sigh before one opening of fingers crushing the lord like a canned perserve. The hellplate buckled and crumbled, puncturing and rupturing the muscles and iron bones, the sweet essence falling into the opening maw unhinging to reveal the twinned sets of teeth and the yawning gullet, flexing into each loud gulp.

The hate-burning fire of blessed blood glowing into his breast. The slide of violin strings and heightening vocals harmonizing to the sweet bliss as Jaz'mahnn leaned back to enjoy every drop, more of the chaos lord's essence being draining by the mere hold.

Then a great force slammed into the battlefield, throwing a torrent of earth and fire at Jaz'mahnn. Only to be parted by the daemon, eyes slowly blinking and greeting the inevitable.

A great being musclebound, clad in armour of war's truth. Wings screwed with plating and hanging with countless skulls and heads. A horned head thrusting forward, billowing a roar that shook the earth and resolve of lesser creatures, stirring its followers as true as the great axe in its popping fist.

Jaz'mahnn smiled sultrily with a slow lick of his flayed tongue.

O Mother of Ours,

I love you for your gift onto us

Give me your blood, O Hateful Cousin of Mine

The Bloodthirster howled, charging with the earth scorching under hoof. Man and daemon crushed under. Jaz'mahnn waved his hand and the body in his grip lengthening like melting wax, armour becoming coiling motif. Sword swaying in salute and claws splaying out in mating invitation.

Give me your Hatred So Pure!

The axe swung and Jaz'mahnn bowed without breaking his regality, arms swung out in a graceful flow outward whilst swaying from downward arc to cleave him from spine to nap. His own blade caressed gauntlet to summon beautiful sparks and sprayed it in the Bloodthirster's eyes. The snarl of frustration as a hand reached to rub the shards from his gaze, only to find a spiked knee crashing into snout.

Give me your Rage Unbound!

Deftly twisting and leaping into the air like an acrobatic elf, ribbons of ichor trailing after as the Bloodthirster howled with magmatic blood spewing from his pierced snout, already healing wound.

Why must we hate one another, O Crimson Cousin Mine?

Jaz'mahnn righted himself as the Thirster beated his wings to chase after the spindly rival, only for the impossibly light creature land on his shoulders and back. The morphed corpse-turned-whip snapped and coiled around the red devil's weapon-arm. Blade slipping between cuirass and pauldron, piercing tendons and joints. A great claw snapped around a horn, yanking the Bloodthirster around as he bucked and flung around like a wild bull.

Why don't you bow before your better, Dog of Khorne!?

You whom so obedient to your Master! Do you know when you are before Perfection Manifest!?

The Bloodthirster yanked, trying to dislodge the Keeper but Jaz'mahnn had him coiled to the point it started to climb the skies.

Do you love that collar on your neck so? Do you feel his chain yanking for you~?

Higher and higher, beholding the eternally stretching landscape of the realm chosen for this battle. Until the daemon twisted and two fell...fell...spiralling.

Do you love him or do you obey like a Good Dog, Slave of Khorne?

They were becoming engulfed into a twin-tailed comet of vibrant floral colours and roaring black flame.

We are the same, you and I ~

O Cousin, so passionate, how I love you sooo-

When the comet was about to tear the earth asunder, it suddenly twisted and tore through ranks of daemons and men before crashing into the mountain of reaching cavader of a god long dead.

I love the taste of your blood on my tongue.

From the burning ruin, Jaz'mahnn rose with a stumble of broken limb popping itself back right.

The Hatred distilled for my perfume.

The Bloodthirster, with his throat wide open and chest wide open by his own axe. Panting in the sensation of mortal exortion, a lie of sensation haunting his failing presence. Foot on its heft, pushing deeper. Claw holding horn and its twin snapping its glowing bladed ends open.

I will sing of this ballad, O Cousin Sweet.

Drawing back.

Deep in the Void, Remember Me O Cousin Mine.

Rage in the Blackness, Be my Tribute and Choke on Defeat.

[meatriarch]

        𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕠𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕕 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦

MARIA.

the lovers the bounty of your heart is abundant. warmth extends from your fingertips, and your smile has the power to light the darkest of rooms. your presence is a comfort– a gift– it is something to be cherished. just beware of stretching yourself too thin; a heart cannot be full if it is constantly emptying itself for the benefit of others. extend that mercy to your own heart, so you may continue to love and let yourself be loved. your chest is not an empty cavity. NUMBER: 6 UPRIGHT: love, harmony, relationships, values alignment, choices REVERSED: self-love, disharmony, imbalance, misalignment of values

DANILO.

the moon the world has not been kind to you. it has come for you with gnashing teeth, swiping claws, and you have barely escaped time and time again with your tail between your legs. but you are made of tougher stuff; far more resilient than you give yourself credit for! allow yourself this moment, yield yourself some clemency, and be prepared to face this stalking monster with a renewed sense of purpose. the moon will guide your well deserved reprieve. NUMBER: 18 UPRIGHT: illusion, fear, anxiety, subconscious, intuition REVERSED: release of fear, repressed emotion, inner confusion

PEPPER.

the fool there is an endless road ahead of you. long and winding, it is impossible to imagine every fork, every path you could take. like looking down from a high place, the sheer magnitude is dizzying. but it is freeing. god, it is freeding. you have all the time in the world to explore– endless choices to make; take time to appreciate it all. just be careful not to lose yourself to the recklessness that comes with such wondrous freedom. NUMBER: 0 UPRIGHT: beginnings, innocence, spontaneity, a free spirit REVERSED: holding back, recklessness, risk-taking

JUNE.

the star there is something wonderful stirring in the depths of your being. something within you– something latent– is sleeping there, in the cradle of your mind. creativity comes naturally to you, just as breathing or blinking. you have the capability to extend yourself through art. but are you afraid of it? creating something– terribly afraid that it will never be as good as you hope? it will never be made unless you use your own hands. NUMBER: 17 UPRIGHT: hope, faith, purpose, renewal, spirituality REVERSED: lack of faith, despair, self-trust, disconnection

tagged by: @lifesver kisses to the sky always <3

tagging: @johnnysslaughter & @hellscourges if you'd like to <3

[adankurono]

Chelas domingueras en casa! #hellscourge #hellmaisroz #crust #punk #blackmetal #deathmetal https://www.instagram.com/p/Bs3bHGfgjmF/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=pgilnhsrph28

[rawtotherapinee]

Hellscourge / Brazil

[lordsrot]

Lord Agravaine's path had been carved out and pathed since before his very birth. His life was never going to be lived the way he wished it. His life was hardly even his own. The fates would forever be tangled about his unholy body, the invisible strings the seamstresses knotted at his limbs pulled in every direction but his very own, puppeting him to what he was always destined for. Their wicked riddles more than a taunt on words--- but the future. One merely unseen.

Already such rhymes they sung have come to pass. The butterfly has batted it's wings and a storm has begun to brew elsewhere, changing the course of his history. The course of his future. He welcomed it. No matter how dark, how plagued, how sanguine stained it would be.

@hellscourges ❝  you can change your path. it’s not too late.  ❞

Flaming gaze snaps to the woman as she spoke. Shinning brightly down through the cracks of his iron helm. Tongue is held as he encroaches upon her. What a curious thing to say. Did she see him for what he truly was? What sight was she granted to gaze upon him? Studying her like a predator hunted his prey. But he does not pounce. Merely a long and slender hand out stretches, claws nicking the edges of armor, before he draws back. Scoffing loudly as he turned away. "What doth thou know of thine path? What did thou see?" He inquired in a murmur, "Did it frighten thee?"

[lordsrot]

@hellscourges ♡ ft samyria Send ♡ to see what my muse thinks of yours

●●●○○ | ATTRACTION ○○○○○ | AFFECTION ●●●○○ | INTEREST ●○○○○ | LOYALTY ●○○○○ | TRUST

LOW | ●●●●● | HIGH

[lordsrot]

@hellscourges has done not but answer to him. Time and time against showing her utter devotion to whatever cause he pursues. No matter how tame, wicked, nor bloody it would turn out to be. She fought viciously. Yet remained ever loyal. Agravaine admired such character. It was a rarity--- one he would cherish. He has shown his appreciation in varying manners. Physical touch, an uttering of praise beneath his breath, invaluable things such as gold and tokens. Though there was more he could do. So he did. Crafting a most exquisite piece.

"Nevyrine." The looming figure beckoned. Clawed fingers curling to call the warrior over to his side within his personal study. "I've something for thee."

It's wrapped in cloth. Small in his own large hands. There was little concealing what his gift was. And upon unraveling prickly stings and fabric would reveal a marvelous sword. Blade obsidian black, a deep crimson shine when the light hit it just right, as though it was forged of blood. The hilt and guard a pale gold, forged in a unique manner of design. Inlayed with precious stones from his lands. Much like the ones found in his own jews. "With this blade, thou can wield me."

[moonstalk]

ireena could feel the weight of the catacombs pressing down on her. the shadows seemed to dance around their every step, and the scent of ancient death lingered in the labyrinthine passages, coating them in its sacred darkness. she was no stranger to death. it marked every inch of her former home, swallowing the land in its gloom, infecting the people, and invading them with longing and despair. she had been lucky to escape with the aid of her brother, who was still imprisoned within its borders, forever haunted by the tyrannical lord who longed to possess her.

the thought prodded at her like an exposed nerve. but here in cyralduin, where she had sought refuge with the paladin she would follow anywhere like a lamb with purpose, she was finally free. as ana extended her hand, splaying it across her belly, the weight of it could be felt metal to metal; ireena heeded her request, pausing in place.

she watched ana carefully, her movements deliberate. the rock grew weak beneath her boots, and with another step forward, it crumbled just so; a faint glow, ethereal in nature, emanated from the depths, casting an otherworldly light on ana's face; her triumphant grin was infectious, and for a moment, ireena believed they would finally succeed.

at the question, ireena met her gaze, taking in the face she had come to know so well. she wondered if, despite her princess' resolve, the question was also one of reassurance between friends.

a hand was placed into ana's, and she squeezed it firmly without hesitation. ❛ always, my queen. i would follow you anywhere. ❜

— @moonstalk asked : a sprawling network of underground catacombs .

unladylike was rare a term used in cyralduin, as many of the women were no strangers to bloodshed, dank caverns, dark dungeons and ruins of the gods of old. gods who once walked the earth alongside them. catacombs beneath mountains with stone statues erected in their name to signify their entrance.

a queen would not find herself, though, in the darkness of the burial grounds. would that she were the queen— not yet did the crown weigh on her, but instead a helm of black and red grandeur, and she pulled it off to tuck it under her arm.

“stop,” anastasia held out her hand to the woman beside her, palm splayed out over her companions belly. the paladin toed forward and the caverns grumbled in protest. the floor grew weak beneath their boots. “where the earth grows weak with age and the gods' path is faded.” she recited softly under her breath. if she was right, her and ireena would come upon a talisman that could aide them and sway the undetermined holds to ally themselves with ana for the coming war. a war against her own kin. proof of her father's betrayal and deceit.

another step forward and the rock crumbled underfoot, a hole gaping below them, but it wasn't dark. a faint glow of blue and white emanated with the catacomb's secrets. ana's mouth parted in a victorious grin and she looked to ireena with a flash of hope that hadn't crossed the elven princess' face in quite some time.

“this is it.” she crouched closer to the hole and deliberated whether it was too deep to simply jump. ana shrugged and held out her hand, looking up to ireena. “do you trust your queen?” she inquired, a queen without a crown. this talisman would be her salvation.

[lordsrot]

SEVEN DEADLY SINS : CHARACTERISTICS . BOLD whatever applies | ITALICS what sometimes applies | STRIKETHROUGH what doesn't apply &&. tag people. REPOST ; don’t reblog!

Lust: desire for connection, pursuit of pleasure, emotional intelligence, obsessive, lovesick, one-night stand, seductive encounter, flirtatious conversation, erotic party, seductive attire, revealing clothing, passionate gaze, provocative makeup, sensual expressions, suggestive gestures, flirtatious smiles, lingerie, love letters, perfumes, provocative behavior, love poems, erotic art

Gluttony: indulgence in experiences, savoring moments, hospitality, generosity, hedonism, culinary expertise, wine tasting, excessive snacking, overloaded plates, excessive portions, bloated stomachs, messy eating, greasy fingers, full tables, indulgent spreads, overflowing cups, satisfied expressions, wine bottles, can't get enough, fast food wrappers

Envy: motivation, competitive spirit, strategic planning, observational skills, bitter, rivalry contest, envious gossip, resentment-filled argument, social media jealousy, furrowed brows, clenched jaws, side-eye looks, pursed lips, tense posture, whispering behind backs, crossed arms, gossip magazines, keeping up with the Joneses, the grass is always greener, feeling inadequate

Greed: resourcefulness, entrepreneurial spirit, negotiation, materialistic, aggressive investment, lavish spending spree, resource hoarding, get-rich-quick scheme, auction bidding war, property acquisition, piles of money, overflowing wallets, luxury items, locked safes, penny-pinching, rare collectibles, selfishness, unwillingness to share

Sloth: calmness, stress management, nonchalance, relaxation techniques, lethargic, apathetic, inactive, lazy weekend, binge-watching marathon, neglected chores, skipped workout, long nap, lounging on the couch, missed deadline, unkempt appearance, messy hair, pajamas, blankets, slippers, procrastination station, self-care routines

Pride: confidence, self-assurance, self-respect, dignity, public speaking, self-promotion, arrogant, conceited, egotistical, self-important, vain, boastful speech, puffed chest, raised chin, smug smiles, spotlight, tooting your own horn, showing off, refusing to admit mistakes, feeling entitled, personal branding, leadership development

Wrath: assertiveness, decisiveness, strength, intensity, boundary setting, courage, indignant, heated argument, road rage incident, physical altercation, angry outburst, clenched fists, glaring eyes, tense muscles, raised voices, reddened faces, aggressive gestures, stormy demeanor, intense frowns, destructive actions, broken objects, punching bag, out for blood, fists, simmering anger

tagged by: no one i stole it tagging: @deathlace ( messmer blinks ) , @hellscourges ( nev? ), @wavebreak, and YOU!

[chaosprinceundivided]

Regiments of Rulek's Legion

The Godslayer’s Own (Chaos Knights on Bears)

The Knights-Claimed (Chaos Knights of Tzeentch)

Warriors of Kvelligs (Chaos Warriors of Khorne)

The Sadist Defenders (Chaos Warriors of Slaanesh - Hellscourges)

The Forsaken Company (Chaos Knights of Nurgle - Lancer)

The Skull-Bridge’s Regiment (Bloodletters of Khorne)

The Gnawers of Deserters (Fleshhounds of Khorne)

The Burners of Fate (Flamers of Tzeentch)

Hope’s Seekers (Screamers of Tzeentch)

The Defilers of Vladimir (Seekers of Slaanesh)

The Pleasuring Devourers (Daemonetters of Slaanesh)

The Corrosive Tallyband (Plaguebearers of Nurgle)

Woe’s Litter (Beast of Nurgle)

[adankurono]

#hellscourge #hellswrathbattalion #blackmetal #thrashmetal

[lordsrot]

To see the entirety of his grandeur. A desire he would have to deny her longer. The Lord of Rot would let her mind conjure up an image. Mortals were talented in doing such. Making up for that which they could not see. "I am for no mortal eyes to see. I shall remain a faceless visage before them."

Truth rung heavy in her words. Oh loyalty, it could be a fruitless endeavor, stringing those along with hopes of divine promise. It kept those who followed lapping at his heels, taking to their knees, and bowing their heads. Not out of fear. But out of devotion. Admiration. A believer of his power and rule. He would ensure those who proclaimed themselves to his unholiness did not go starved and wanting. Agravaine held Nevyrine's face tenderly, an act to reassure her she was heard.

"And I see the blood upon thy blade, the sweat that pours from thy brow, thou is my very own harled. Not a lie uttered past thine lips in my name. Not a traitor left unpunished." He praises, hand falling from the warrior's cheek to rest loosely about her neck. Long digits wrapping easily around her throat, his claws clicking together as they met in the back. Like a chain setting heavy about a tamed animal's neck. She was effortless to lead. "My flame burns brighter because of thee. The smoke smells ever sweet."

"At my side." He beckoned the warrior to follow. "Thou hath wielded her blade enough for a day."

the warrior knelt at the foot of her deity. forest green curiously searching for some sense of the beast beneath the helm. she'd seen the faces of horrific creatures before and they did not frighten her. her stubbornness had convinced her, agravaine was no different. her lord would not frighten her, she would not waver.

nevyrine locked eyes with the flaming vision towering over her. devotion flooded her gaze and she gently shook her head, bowing it for him. “of course not, my lord, i only wished to see the entirety of your grandeur.”

loyalty was in her blood, a guard dog and vicious at that. she had long desired something to follow, a god or lord to devote herself unto and agravaine had been more than pleased to take her beneath his wing so that she might thrive. bloodlust and fury roiled in her core, begging to be unleashed in his name. though she saw herself a fearless leader, nevyrine was little more than a lamb to slaughter, willing to lay her sword and life down for anything that so much as treated her with the slightest fondness. agra seemed to be pleased with her devotion, and so she doted on him.

“i am your sword and your shield. a harbinger. yours to do with as you please, without question, my lord. my only purpose is to feed the flames of your ambitions.”

her eyes fluttered closed and she turned her head to his clawed palm, pressing battered and dry lips to the center, relishing in her deity's caress. she accepted his declination, without argue, and stood. nevyrine bowed deep and sheathed her broadsword over her shoulder.

“where might you want me, my darkness?” she cooed fondly, the deep rasp in her voice low and sincere.

[lifesver]

he’s already a few backwards steps toward his car, when he hears movement on the other side of the door. the methodical unlatching of locks. leland holds a breath, until ana appears in the doorway, haloed in the warm backlight of her front hall. he opens his mouth to speak — but he's almost afraid it's going to come out too raw. that his voice will crack down the middle — and that would be embarrassing.

❝ hi, ❞ he rasps meekly, immediately dropping eye contact — away from her worried look. his voice feels like glass. what the hell was he thinking — showing up in the middle of the night? he watches her set aside the baseball bat, and guilt pangs across his expression.

he tries again, shifting on his heels and clearing his throat; ❝ … sorry, i — i shouldn’t have — it's late. ❞ everything comes out stilted, struggling out of his slightly chattering teeth. not that he has it in him to argue with her. leland follows her easily; steps into the warmth of her house in a half-trance state. eyes settle on ana's two guard dogs, standing on alert and prepared to investigate him. understandable. if they make her feel safer, living alone, leland’s glad she has them.

letting the familiarity blanket him, leland’s shoulders finally sink, tension releasing in a shaky sigh. ❝ i um. i can't be home, right now, is all. thought maybe going for a drive would clear my head. then i ended up here. i guess, ❞ it felt like kind of a shitty excuse, for bothering her at this time of night. one look at ana’s eyes, and he wants to backtrack a million steps, say it's alright — he just got a little lost while he was driving. say he's fine, he's alright. he didn't mean to cause her any trouble. if he was a little less selfish, he wouldn’t have shown up at all. he wouldn’t be standing here, awkwardly, red-eyed and half rain-drenched in her doorway.

but he's fragile, just now. feels paper-thin. ana's already helping him out of his coat, and he's on autopilot, letting her guide him into the space like a skittish animal. leland blinks at the press of a fresh sting behind his eyes, swipes at them stubbornly with the back of his hand. it’s a nervous habit to laugh, self-conscious — because he knows what he looks like, right now. what exactly he had said, to earn the glaring bruise on his cheek. he catches himself in the reflection of ana’s window; the red has faded darker, and the fresh bruise only pulses dully, now. it looked kind of bad — but the only thing he can really bring himself to regret about the whole thing, was getting into it in front of his mother, and his sisters.

crazy. dad hadn’t gotten that angry with him in years. crazy, that there was a time not so long ago, when leland wouldn’t have dared step out of line with cecil mckinney. when his worst fear was disappointing the man he now tuned out entirely most days. anyway — his old man had looked almost sorry for it, right away. but whatever had come out of his mouth after that, leland hadn’t been listening — head full of white noise pitch. and he'd vaguely heard his mother reaming cecil the hell out, while leland had slipped out the door with his car keys. but he wasn't looking back. and he didn’t really care, just then, if the man was sorry or not. if they were all lucky, maybe mom would kick him out for good, this time.

he doesn’t think ana needs to hear any of that, anyway. tired eyes re-acquaint himself with ana’s living space. it’s been a while since he’s been here. leland pauses a few steps from ana’s two dogs, and slowly lowers himself to a crouch. he holds out his hand across the distance for them to sniff — an attempt at offering a peaceful greeting. it was a good momentary distraction, at least.

❝ sorry. ❞ leland repeats, softly. still unable to look up, and meet ana’s gaze. but he tries for honesty, anyway; ❝ i … i didn’t really know where else to go. ❞ as weak and bruised as he sounds. finally, he risks a glance upward, risks all that ugly vulnerability laid bare. maybe he wouldn’t have, it was anyone but ana.

@lifesver

most nights weren’t easy for ana, they were restless and filled with anxious pacing, endless cups of coffee and ultimately more pacing and fidgeting but this time it was due to the amount of caffeine in her body.

she’d been informed by her psychiatrist to stop drinking coffee so late and to try taking some sedatives he prescribed but ana had all but flushed them down the toilet to avoid taking them. they didn’t help her sleep, well— they did… but not restfully. instead they just forced her to relive her nightmares over and over again. at least if she didn’t take them she had a choice to stay awake.

tonight was a night like any other, her near empty mug sat on her side table, and she curled up on the old ratty couch in her living room, feet tucked under her rear with a book in her lap. she’d tried desperately to get back into her old hobbies, to have a sense of normalcy in her life after getting out of the hospital. she’d had very little luck in the years since. the first year was the hardest, and the time where she felt the most alone, barely bringing herself to get out of bed.

now, she was coping a little better, not much, but enough to try her hand at reading again and picking up her art and even trying to learn embroidery.

❛ i had forgotten how much light there is in the world, till you gave it back to me. ❜ she read outloud, the words delicate on her tongue, her brown eyes looking down at the english mastiff drooling on her couch.

❝ yeah, i’m talking to you. ❞ she cooed with a gentle smile, django lifted his head and shifted closer, tucking his large body up against hers.

maverick’s head popped over the edge of the couch, curious of what ana was saying to django. he too joined her and django on the couch.

ana patted her two dogs fondly, grateful for their protection and company. she looked back at her book, a novel by ursula k. le guin, granted it was considered children’s literature ana enjoyed that it was light reading, nothing too harsh on her head or something she really had to dissect like she used to with books.

after a while of reading while a fire crackled in her hearth and the sound of rain pattered on the metal awning of her porch, ana heard the crunch of gravel under tires and quickly placed her book down, eyes shooting to the closed curtains.

the headlights stayed on for a while and both dogs perched themselves near the window on alert as ana had taught them, eventually she heard a knock at the door and django barked loudly, a deep rumbling bark followed by a menacing growl.

another more hesitant knock.

ana peeked through the curtains and squinted through the rain to see leland’s car out front.

oh…

she shooed the dogs back to their spots on the couch, but they stayed on defense with their heads up and pointed at the door as ana unlocked each of the three locks and opened it to a very wet and sad looking leland.

❝ lee? ❞ she frowned, looking past him at his car to make sure it was just him before opened the door more, leaning the baseball bat she had in her hand against the wall beside the door frame. “its two in the morning, what are you doing out here?”

out here being nearly three hours from home, out here being at her house… they’d spoken only a little in the past few years, stark in contrast to how close they used to be, which was entirely ana’s fault. she’d made the long drive to his parent’s home to drop off food a few times and leave before he could stop her to talk, and she’d invited him to a diner in austin a year after— ana swallowed dryly at the memory. the day they’d met at the diner was practically the anniversary of maria’s disappearance and leland’s birthday. she’d done better to be less of a stranger to him, calls every few weeks, occasionally sending him letters or making the drive to visit him when she had the energy to leave home.

it still didn’t explain why he’d come all the way out to uvalde in the middle of the night.

ana tilted her head up at him, she couldn’t tell in the dim fire light flooding her porch if he’d been crying or just standing in the rain.

❝ come inside before you get any more soaking wet. ❞ she urged, stepping aside for him to enter, and she reached up to remove his coat for him. he looked like a kicked puppy.