#seraphine screams into the void

[faiyamon]

I miss my dad.

I wish he was still here.

I'm already 19 years old and still I want to scream for him like a 5 year old would for their mom.

I wish he was the one who lived.

because I know he would be there for me if he did. as he always was.

he would know how to guide me through this misery I am in because he himself went through it years and years ago.

but I know that he can't get me out of it as much as we both want to.

[feyhunter78]

Hold My Heart (Between Your Teeth) 12/?

Description: The dinner scene takes place and Sera fears her plans are falling apart.

Previous chapter, Next chapter

Seraphine clings to Aegon as they walk into the dining room, Aemond and Alyra trailing behind them.

“Did you have a pleasant time with your nephews?” She asked, looking up at him.

“It was fine, I am glad to be back with you though, the Strongs talk too much.” He said, escorting her to her seat before taking his.

“Seraphine, fancy seeing you here.” Alyra jested, as she sat in the seat beside her. Then she leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Truly, though, I am happy you are finally able to eat at the table with us.”

Seraphine thanked her, and they all watched as King Viserys lumbered in, leaning heavily on his gold tipped cane.

He gave a short speech begging his family to reconcile, followed by a few toasts from the others that she found quite heartwarming. Especially Helaena’s, directed towards her and Aegon, wishing them as much happiness as she had found.

Seraphine noticed that Aegon was drinking quite heavily, his eyes darting to the door. “Is everything alright, my love?” She whispered.

“I thought I saw something odd when I went to visit Sunfyre, but I think it was just my imagination.”

A suckling pig was set down on the table, and Seraphine felt Alyra go tense beside her.

“Aemond.” Alyra whispered, her hand finding his.

Aemond sat in silence, and Seraphine could see Lucerys quietly laughing.

Aemond suddenly stood, holding his drink aloft. “Final tribute.”

“Please no.” Alyra groaned, drowning out some of Aemond’s words in Seraphine’s ears.

“So let us raise a glass to these three Strong boys, and give thanks to the Seven that our dear Jacaerys has suffered no health complications, considering he was born…what was it three or four months early?”

Jacaerys stood, his eyes blazing. “What are you implying.”

“Only that your parents must have wished for you greatly, hopefully to soothe the void left by our dear Uncle Laenor.” Aemond drawled.

Aegon lifted his cup as well, and Alicent shot him a look.

Jacaerys looked ready to lunge at Aemond and Alyra stood suddenly. “We are with child.” She said loudly, taking Aemond’s cup from him. “The maesters informed me this morning, they say it is healthy and there is a good chance we may have twins as Helaena and Jacaerys did.”

The table bursts with excitement and well-wishes, dispersing the tension.

Alyra sits and yanks Aemond with her.

They speak in harsh whispers before Aemond kisses her gently, a small smile on his lips.

“Congratulations, Alyra, that’s wonderful news.” Seraphine said, smiling brightly at her friend.

“Thank you, I am very excited.”

A dessert course is brought out and everyone chatters happily, with Alyra trying to push off the dozens of bites Aemond attempts to push on her.

“You must eat, especially if we are having twins, they will need your strength.” He said, as she rejected another bite of a strawberry tart.

“Aemond, it is not sweets that will give them strength.” She laughed, finally taking a bite to pacify him.

Seraphine relaxed resting her head on Aegon’s shoulder, this wasn’t as terrible as she had feared, in fact it was quite pleasant.

Her eyes landed on Helaena who suddenly froze and began mumbling under her breath.

“Aegon, I think something is wrong with—” She was cut off by a sharp thud and frightened screams.

Lord Harwin was up in a flash and tackling someone, as Alicent and Rhaenyra held King Viserys up, a gaping stab wound in his chest.

Alyra rushed to her feet, struggling to get to the king as servant and guards swarmed in.

“It was him.” Helaena said, suddenly, standing up and pointing a finger at Otto. “I saw it, in my dreams. He hired an assassin.”

Seraphine clutched Aegon’s hand, as she stared in horror. Everyone was running, shouting, fighting, and the king was bleeding out before her very eyes.

Alyra finally got to the king and pressed her hands to the wound before recoiling with a pained hiss. “There’s poison, I—it’s not working.” She cried, fear in her eyes as she went to press her hands to his wound once more.

Aemond pulled her back, and she fought against him. “No, Alyra, I will not let you risk yourself and our children.” He said, firmly, pressing his lips to the side of her head as tears streamed down her face.

“Remember…Aegon…throne.” Viserys choked out, before he went limp.

Seraphine turned to look at Aegon.

His face was white, his eyes wide, and his hand trembling. “No, no, no.” He mumbled.

Seraphine scanned the room for Sir Erryk. He nodded at her, making his way towards them, and she relaxed slightly.

“Aegon, it will be alright, perhaps he meant he did not want you on the throne.” She soothed, pulling his head to her chest, and resting her chin upon it.

“You heard him.” Otto shouted as he was dragged away. “Aegon will be king.”

Alyra went limp in Aemond’s arms, her sobs clear as he scooped her up and held her close.

Jacaerys had his arms around Helaena as she hid her face in his neck, and Rhaenyra was clasping Alicent’s hand tightly.

Harwin and the guards had wrangled the assassin and were speaking quickly about where in the dungeons to put him.

“He was a traitor to the crown, surely we will not take his words at face value.” Seraphine said, nervously, praying that somehow, she had heard the king wrong.

“I—I do not know.” Alicent said, leaning against Sir Criston as he came up to comfort her.

“He did not mean this, Aegon, I know it.” Rhaenyra said, her voice trembling, her hands covered in her father’s blood.

“Well why not? He is the only Aegon here.” Aemond said, pausing in his exit, Alyra still curled up in his arms.

Rhaenyra shook her head. “It is only for the current ruler and their heir to know.”

Alicent shook her head. “Everyone please leave, return to your chambers, Aegon, Seraphine, I am sorry, but we will have to postpone your wedding until the after the king’s funeral.”

Seraphine stood, pulling Aegon with her. “That is more than understandable, my queen, we will leave you now.”

Alicent nodded numbly, and they all shuffled out, leaving her, Rhaenyra, Criston, Harwin and the king’s body at the table.

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[kopivie]

I’m no therapist or anything, so take this all with a big dunking of salt, but from the sound of things, you probably should share how you feel with somebody. Possibly a friend you feel comfortable disclosing it with, even if you think they won’t care (and they probably will, because if they’re your friend chances are they care about your well-being). Maybe even just mention it slightly if you don’t feel comfortable going into detail, but it won’t do much good keeping everything to yourself. Of course, keep taking medication and keep taking care of yourself, but you don’t have to take care of yourself totally by yourself, if that makes sense—everyone goes through loss and grief at some point in their lives, so you’re bound to find somebody who can relate to how you feel (without being connected to that specific loss) which’ll make it easier to talk about. And if you don’t, it’s still probably worth sharing with somebody.

-🎻 anon

y'know, i had told my best friend last night that i hated unloading my problems onto him. i hate it with every fiber of my being. but he took time off to attend the funeral and wake with me when everything happened, so he knows full well just how hard i've worked to suppress all of this over the past year.

i dunno, i feel more comfortable just yelling here because who really cares that much? this is me screaming into the void. i'm no longer kazewhara or awlumii's zuzu, i'm back to just being me.

(side note: lately, i've been referred to as seraphine. i'm trying to get into streaming and becoming a splatoon youtuber for the sake of my competitive team.)

all that to say that nobody legitimately gives a fuck what i say here. so it feels... better, in a way. idk. just me being silly and sad.

[first-frost-fallen-snow]

⚠️ This exerpt has triggering scenes in it, including: mention and description of blood, depictions of violence, mention of death, heavy dissociation. Read with caution ⚠️

Zeno.

Seraphine.

Names, people.

These people were people he’d love. These were people he’d hurt.

Frost felt as if he was floating.

No.

He was in water, drowning. Struggling to breathe.

The void, darkness.

Everything was different. He had no control over his own body. He saw through a distant window, his eyes. Through desperation, he frantically tried moving his body free from the crushing weight around him. The echoes of reality resonated in his body, wracking him with senses he couldn't place.

Copper. He could smell it, it stung his nostrils and burned down his throat. It brought him closer to the distant window of what his body's eyes were seing.

Crimson. It was splattered everywhere, shining delicately like a bush of roses. He could see the dew on their petals, but something was wrong. Very wrong.

Thrumming in his ears he felta heartbeat. Was it his own, or someone elses? He truly hoped it was the former.

Without thinking, he opened his mouth and screamed. The dark void was so truly deafening that he felt he hadn't screamed at all. His senses pulled him to the distant window. His vision. The Semon, that's what they called them. Demons. His assignment was to stop the Demons from destroying a peaceful town. But the copper, the crimson, the heartbeat was all coming from something.

It wasn’t a Demon.

No.

It was a civilian.

He couldn’t stop hitting them. They were down, and he was still hitting them. His body aiming to kill them. He cried out, a pacifist forced to watch his own body kill someone. He wasn’t in control, he couldn’t breathe.

“Please, please stop me!" he begged, pounding his fists on the window. This time the words echoing in his head and deafening him more than the silence had.

[houserosaire]

Send a ‘🌩’ to see a nightmare

           The mask was heavy. Reaching up heran his fingers over it, taking in the curves and shapes of it without gainingany real sense of  what it was meant toportray. Metal, heavy and solid as a helm might have been, and so cold that itburned his fingers to touch. He tightened his grip despite the pain, pulleduntil the ridges beneath his fingers sharpened into blades of ice. Blood trickledwarm over the metal.

           The cold suddenly burned the skin ofhis face, ice within as well as without. Every tug drew blood from his cheeksas well as the raw ruins of his fingers. It didn't matter. He couldn't breatheinside it. The weight of the thing was so great that he fell to his kneesbeneath it. He pulled again and it tore free into his hands. Silvaineaux slowlyturned it over between them.

           The mask was a pretty thing. Ahawk's face in gold, with feathers like knives. He watched blood drip from hischeeks onto the gilded surface and wipe away the twisted remnants of hisreflection. There was nothing left beneath, but he could no more have set thatpretty metal back against the place his face had been than he could fly.

           With a roar he tossed the mask  from him, listened to it clang and ringthrough the stone of the crypt. "How did you do this?" He demanded ofthe white marble effigy on the tomb beside him.

           Seraphin did not answer. He was asstill and peaceful as that carved stone and for all that he had loved him,Silvaineaux hated that peaceful little half smile with a ferocity that burnedcolder than the ice.

           "How did you bear it? He slammedhis fist into the marble of Seraphin's breastplate and left steaming bloodprinted against the pallid stone. Pain burned through his fingers, but it wassomething. Blood was warm. It was solidity in the face of the howling void leftinside him. "Fury's name, Seraphin, tell me how to do this!" Hegripped folded stone hands and pulled himself to his feet.

           The stone rumbled under his palm andfor a single mad moment he thought the statue would rise. Instead the floorbuckled upward. The great sarcophagus tilted and fell to the side. Seraphin'seffigy shattered like ice as a single great claw slammed through the floor andcame down atop it.  

           The scent of dragon was raw andheavy in the small space, burning everything else away with the stench ofbrimstone and scale. "You cannot, little knight." The beast roared ina voice that rumbled against Silvaineaux's bones and echoed in the screamingvoid of his heart. "You lack the strength. You will end here innothing."

           The dragon pulled itself free of thefloor, one claw at a time, great wings spreading until they filled the spaceand he was crowded back against the wall. He had no sword, no shield. The greatbeast's head lowered until its nose brushed his chest and he could hear the grindingof its teeth with every word. "You will fail, Silvaineaux. Because you cando nothing else."

           There was a horrible familiarity inthat crushing voice. "No." He whispered. But his eyes liftedregardless to meet the merciless blue of the dragon's own, the same brilliantsapphire as Seraphin's.            "NO!" he screamed.

           The soundof his own voice jolted him awake. His eyes jerked open to the familiar blue ofthe bed hangings. His heart roared in his own ears. Slowly he lifted one hand,scrubbed it over his face. His fingers came away wet.            "My Lord!" Aninsistent pounding at the bedroom door accompanied the words.            Silvaineaux fought for asteady breath. "Everything is well, Alain. Pray ring for some tea." Hecalled out then scrubbed the last of that telltale moisture away with his palm.Thank you for the ask!

[rosalia-the-guardian]

It could be considered interesting that the body could shut down the emotions for personal safety to the psyche of one that had been pushed, traumatized and scarred beyond the breaking point. Absolute numbness had settled over the Guardian for so long; there was truly no sense of time as she’d heal slowly physically from the damage done to her body. The motions had remained to allow her to function, such as eating and drinking, but food tasted like dust to her. And she hadn’t cared during the time that it was like this. 

She never slept for longer than a snatch of a nap here and there. Being on a mortal world drained what little energy remained, and even in her condition she knew better than to ignore it. Just enough to recover a bit, before waking to avoid the dam of memories that lurked just off to the sides of her thoughts. They had held back for this long.

But the mind could only hold back the tidal wave that had been looming over her for so long, growing in pressure the longer it was held back. It could have been weeks, months... hell, it could have been years for all Rosalia cared. So when it hits, at long last, of everything that had happened...

I failed.

It hits with the force of a sledgehammer; whatever she was holding idly would drop out of her hands, while a sensation closely described as a vicious clawed hand gripped at her ribs, constricting her airways slowly as the words came of their own accord. Slashing away at her numbness with each cruel deliberation, they came.

They’re all gone. Amilla shielded me. I couldn’t reach Tobias. Blood pulsed and couldn’t be stopped. Sephtis fell from above. They took Hikaru from me. Salri...

Her body was trying to gasp for breath, but her throat wouldn’t let her. Gravity pushed her to the ground, bruising her knees and hands, yet it didn’t even register. Every thought was swirling in the storm within her mind, slamming into the barrier of her mind and fracturing it more and more. Now scenes replayed despite her attempt to pull away.

Of how Eva had tried to push Amilla out of the way of a fatal blow, yet it struck them both. When she commanded Rosalia to take Amilla back to their home with her face growing paler with each shallow breath.

Amilla, who was trying to joke about finally having a foot in both the living world and dead, the weak smile freezing in her expression not even half-way to the base as she became simple dead-weight. As the weight would lighten when her body began breaking down and crumbling away, not even leaving dust behind in the flight.

Managing to reach Gale in a struggle with voidlings, pulling her to safety. The safety that would shatter around them as Zikom grappled with Salri and brought her crashing down, their roars adding to the earthquakes as Rosalia was thrown by the force. The force that crushed the recent mother of her grandchild.

<No... No..!> Vague sensation of hands pressing against her face would barely register, pressing the palms against her closed eyes as though they could stop the flow of memories and tears.

Yet they wouldn’t stop.

Of how every world had crumbled away into the rapid-growing entity just called the Void by the gods. Tightening its noose around the universe, of the realms that it held, from the mortal worlds to the afterlife planes. All beings, gods and mortals alike, devoured in its wake as it came at last to the central point that held Seraphine as well as Infernam.

Where the seal points to the dimensional prisons of the Elder Gods were kept by the rulers. They who became willing prisoners to keep Eldria safe--

Safe. No, it was never safe...! What use were we?

“What use was I?!” The words were choked out, grating her throat that had long since been unused. Her body curled in on itself, but it was no use trying to protect her from the inflicting pain when it was all within. Where she couldn’t breath, her muscles aching in the effort to hold herself together, nails digging into her skin whether arms or face.

Why couldn’t she had died with them? Why did Lady Salri invoke the Command and send her away? Why did it have to be her to survive as the void destroyed the last remnants of her home..?

A terrible scream was muffled from her hands covering her face, those nails now digging into the temples as her energy exploded. Every second of it tore at her throat, but she couldn’t hold it in anymore. Nearby rocks shattered while the plants and trees bowed outwards, as though trying to escape from the pain from her as surely as the waves of an hurricane.

She didn’t know how long her body were wretched with the pains as she screamed herself hoarse until she lost her voice. Time was meaningless to her as she couldn’t even be sure whether she was awake or asleep. And now she had an infinite amount to have.