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tsunael · 7 months ago

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wip wednesday wthursday

tagged by: myreia!! my friend!! with the tag again!!! thank you 😭 tagging: please take it from me if you're a writer and even if you're not. all I got is an excerpt from my cursed fic that is never-ending and a few random gposes to go along with it lmao. I'm still working on them because they involve a lot of custom poses. This is also. Extremely embarrassing to post lmao.

cw: for badly written drunks + violence.

“As if you didn’t come here for the same reason,” he chuffed, kicking at her bag on the floor with a clumsy foot for emphasis. “Why you would deign to drink with me instead of warming the Lord Commander’s lap, though I can hardly–”

The rest of his words were silenced by a flurry of cards, and the harsh sound of scraping chair legs. Tsuna’s glass burst suddenly upon the floor– the remaining contents of which splashed over his leg and boot. Her bag lay soaked.

Thancred didn’t flinch, he merely set his own glass down long enough to cooly lean upon the table, better to take in her seething posture. He licked his teeth at her with an infuriating leer.

“Apologies,” he fronted, for his tone was positively smug. “Was that a nerve?”

“Bite your tongue,” she snapped.

“Bite it yourself,” he purred.

“You– You absolute pissant. You know nothing about me.”

“I know enough,” he answered briskly. "Such an incredible lot of loose tongues, these Ishgardians. You would not believe the things one can learn over afternoon tea.”

Tsuna stepped away from the table to put further distance between them. In meeting the fogged window, she pressed herself against its sill in vain effort to merge through the glass. His voice with her own growing anger set her palms to sweat.

He spun her a yarn of a horned, Hyuran woman with scales white enough to rival Hraesvelgr’s own– a true progeny of man and dragon, unlike Iceheart's army– who had somehow whored her way into the upper echelons. Their Lord Commander’s heart was swayed enough to pit him against their fair nation, turning him into both heretic and kinslayer.

Tsuna’s hands squeezed upon her own shoulders, scratching at the scales beneath her clothes as she glared upon the floor. She had heard the whispers, certainly, but never in full.

Fanciful though it was, belief of the Au Ra being half-breeds preceded her– an abomination of a theory borne freely from ignorance and Elezen grief.

“Ridiculous,” she hissed a short breath. “I never– You don’t… believe them, do you?”

Why would it matter if he did, well, she did not care to explore.

Thancred let out a guffaw that held not an onze of mirth. “They say there is a grain of truth in every rumour–” Tsuna stiffened. “However, your bedmates are none of my concern.”

“You believe an Ishgardian would deign to… to lay with me? You really are drunk,” she scoffed, incredulous.

“Please. Ser Aymeric would go to his knees for you if you asked nicely.” He did not spare her a further look. “... If he hasn’t already had a taste,” he added, sly.

Tsuna stood, appalled. “Aymeric and I are not involved.”

He scoffed again as if he knew something she didn’t.

“You’re cross with me,” she observed through a shuddering exhale. Why else would he hoist such hurt upon her? “... You truly cannot stand me, can you?” She watched him shift uncomfortably under the question as the words he wished to say burned upon his tongue.

“Twelve have mercy.” He slurred an impatient curse under his breath, heavily rubbing out the line deepening between his brow.

Surely, there was much and more he could speak on after everything they’d been through, however, all merely filtered into a frustrated shrug on his end. “Just thought the great Warrior of Light might need humbling after bringing yet another nation to heel.” Every word dripped with a disdain she had never known of him.

“Don’t– Do not call me that,” she spoke with a voice much too small for the lofty title. “I did not ask for any of this–”

He broke into more hollow laughter that was not in her favour.

“The gall,” he laughed through hysterics. Her words continued to spark his ill-kept temper. “As if we… we forced your hand. You asked for it the moment you stole into the Solar that day. And– And even so, Minfilia saw something in you– she…” his voice trailed off until he lost it completely. “She…”

Tsuna snapped to face him, and watched him slowly founder before her. He searched desperately for the words as they dissolved on his tongue. Such a powerful woman– Minfilia Warde– able to halt a man even in death. Merely her name was enough to chew his lip red in tortuous misery.

Several bottles of ale had been drained before her arrival, and between the two of them, her contribution had also been emptied– Ishgard’s best proved just shy of being able to erase a memory for a night.

He drew a shuddering breath, growing further incensed.

“‘Hells with you.” He pointed tersely, flashing the grit of his teeth as he pushed off from the table on unsteady feet.

Tsuna moved from her spot on the wall, feeling the effects herself as the room deemed to shift.

“To Hells with me!?” she baulked, stalking over to him, grabbing at his arm.

He swung to face her, to shake her off, and the momentum caused him to grip the table for balance as he seethed. His was a quiet sort of anger– one that pulsed and bubbled just beneath the surface, ready for the slightest provocation to be let free. That was, of course, if he still held a modicum of self-restraint, and if his frustrated growl was any indication– restraint wore thin.

“So… So, that's it, then? That’s what this all is about?”

“Don’t,” Thancred snarled. Tsuna felt her chest seize. His singular eye grew hawkish. “I’m not doing this–”

Tsuna interjected sharply. “Do you think I did not try to stop her!?”

That was enough. His mouth twitched in rage, advancing towards her like a predator did prey, and she could only back away in a vain attempt not to be caged. The crunch of glass underfoot sounded as he drew uncomfortably close; her breath hitched. She nearly stumbled over her own feet in trying to keep their distance.

“‘Tried’? You’re Hydaelyn’s beloved– the saviour of a whole Godsforsaken realm– but you could not muster the power to save one, singular woman?” His voice grew wild as he spoke all without a singular breath. “If you had never come, none of this would have ever happened.”

“I couldn’t…”

Tsuna’s eyes burned. Fear and grief filled her in equal measure as she was finally backed into the wall near his bedside with a thud. Her trepidation was ill-noted, and Thancred narrowed his eye as he pounced. His arms came down heavy on either side of her head, effectively caging her.

“It’s your fault!” His voice rose, then fell to that of a whisper only she could hear, trembling from all that had gone unexpressed. “It’s all your fault.”

The alcohol on his breath washed over her, and she turned her head to avoid him.

It was Alphinaud, she opened her mouth to voice, to shift blame of a tragedy on a boy of just ten and six summers. She quickly bit her lip, grinding her teeth at the injustice of it all. Alphinaud had lit the spark that led to the Banquet– but why hadn’t she snuffed it? Why had she subjected herself to carrying out a child's whims?

Her jaw trembled, first in regret, then in righteous anger.

Why hadn’t Thancred searched the ledgers? Too busy, perhaps, chasing Miqo’te tail to notice a cache of weapons gone missing– too busy whoring himself to care what the Crystal Braves were up to under the Scion’s very roof. Where was he– where were any of them– when the signs were clear as day?

Rage compelled her forward, pushing hard enough against his chest to stumble him back on clumsy footing. She raised her hand against him, bringing her palm to crack against his left cheek. While it bloomed a satisfying red in its wake, she felt none for herself. There was no satisfaction to be had, merely a stinging hand to nurse.

The sudden violence of it gave them pause. Tsuna pressed on.

“I did everything I could! What else could I do!?” she spat. “Where were you when we needed you!?”

He straightened, stopping to tongue his cheek where she had struck, and thumbed over his aching jaw. It was as if he were aiming to choose his next words with care, though it didn't seem to matter. The quiet calm of his voice had already snapped.

“Forgive me if I do not exude gratitude for the corpses you reap!” he bellowed. “Our path may be paved with the dead, but you dug the Godsdamned graves–”

Tsuna whimpered and swung again, and he had no hope of catching her closed fist before it found its mark against his jaw. For a moment he was stunned, staggering backward. Thancred had doubled over in pain, gripping the bedframe’s footboard to keep upright as he cupped his rapidly swelling cheek. With a pained hiss, he drew a bloodied hand away from a properly split lip. Tsuna lost her opportunity to follow-up her blow, or to escape entirely as she stood, dumbfounded, scandalised at what she had just done.

It scared her: the familiar fire burning in her gut for what she wanted– that ache for violence– for retribution.

‘Serve, save…’

She remembered a voice and golden eyes, and clutched at her head. The pain radiated sharply from her temple, excruciating and bright, and then it was gone. Slowly, her hand drifted to cover her mouth.

“I…” she croaked as he stumbled to his feet. She couldn’t stop him from grabbing the front of her chasuble and slamming her roughly to the wall. The back curve of her horns clattered painfully against the masonwork.

“You rat!” she growled in frustration. Though she struggled, his weight pushed against her until she could scarcely move. Her remaining arm flexed her aching fingers and aimed an open-palm against his nose with intent to break. She only managed a fistful of his bandana, tearing it away.

His eyes, once honey-brown, no longer matched. His dip in the Lifestream had drained one of all colour; she recognized it as matching Y’shtola’s– milky-white, and sightless. She should have known the reason for his cover, his favoring of his right side.

Tsuna gaped at him as her rebellion was put down, her arms finally pinned at her shoulders.

#oughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh embarrassing aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh #BE CRINGE BE FREE BE CRINGE BE FREE BE CRINGE BE--#wip wednesdayy #my writing (derogatory)

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