#this arises from the thought 'wow being a human would SUCK ass in demonic war erblu what are u thinking'

[igiveyouanumbrella-blog]

Faith

Pairing: Apostasia/Erbluhen Emotion

Rating: UH??? Potentially bad and incoherent writing produced by a brain deprived of good sleep. This is more of a character exploration than anything i’m sorry.

Words count: 1202

Related to x

Synopsis: They are both anxious. 

His only warning is the clinking sound of silver hitting stone, and a whispered “sorry” which sounds nothing but. Apos flutters opened his green eyes, but in truth he doesn’t need sight to confirm his quarry. The frequency of hesitant steps on grass, the intermittent chuckles and irregular heartbeats inside the other’s chest-he has registered them all in his mind more out of endearment than caution.

“Welcome back,” Apos says to fill in the silence. Time with Erblu has taught him the values in small talks, the comfort they bring. Like Erblu’s responding smile, for example.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Erblu bends down gracefully while talking, and Apos trains his eyes downward to see deft fingers picking up a silver spoon. Green eyes flicker over the other celestial’s body-taking in all the wind-tousled hair, rumpled clothes, bruised wrists, and finally, they land on the floral-printed box shape wedged under Erblu’s thin arm filled with cuts.

He doesn’t have to stare too long, because Erblu notices his concern quickly enough. He always does. “I tripped on a pile of autumn leaves while I was running to the market.” Apos’ eyes squint underneath his long bangs, a sullen feeling dawning in his guts despite the warm space created by Erblu’s carefree laughter.

“And I brought food.” Erblu smiles gently, tucking his gnawed hands in his dirt-stained pockets-a clumsy attempt in distraction which relies on Apos’ good faith to look away. Apos follows the cue-he knows Erblu dislikes being fussed over when the moment warrants it. Many things Erblu does don’t really make sense, and Apos doesn’t like to dwell on activities which bear no fruit-arguing being one. He drifts along with the motions Erblu leads.

“We can eat, after you clean up your wounds.”

At least, that’s how it would be for a long time ago.

Apos has enough self-awareness now to recognize how much he has changed, has enough humility to accept the irrationality of his own being. A progress, Erblu has declared. An eventuality, Apos has corrected.

Erblu tilts his head and chuckles dismissively at first, but stops when Apos’s cold fingers trace over the angry purplish-red on his pale skin, the thin cuts dripping tiny beads of blood. Apos knows they must have hurt despite Erblu’s pretenses-the diminutive shudders in that body cannot lie.

“Then I will use some healing potions we have on stock.” Apos’ hand grips the dirt-stained coat sleeves to halt the other from stepping away. Confused green eyes bore into his core.

“No. Heal. You need to sleep.”

“Not gonna. Who knows when we will encounter more of them again, like last night? I can’t afford to tire myself out, Apos.” Erblu whines with his head buried in Apos’ shoulders, and Apos can feel the strains in Erblu’s every muscle, hardening to prevent their owner from slumping down out of exhaustion. He cannot refute Erblu’s words due to their truths-the air of Feita has grown more poisonous by the day, and it’s not a stretch to say it has become more of a breeding ground for demons. Dealing with their abominable claws for days wear down any seasoned warriors, not just a human fledging with a bleeding heart on his sleeves.

“I will protect you.” Things come out of his tongue more naturally, now-he supposes years spent dealing with a loquacious celestial would influence him so. A stubborn gaze surfaces and meets his blank one.

“I don’t want to be a burden, Apos. I will fig-“

“You traveled to get some food for us,” more like sneaking away to town, but the irritation is as quickly swatted down as it rose when Erblu’s wide green eyes turn downcast with guilt. Familiarity only intensifies his reluctance with breaking Erblu’s open and fragile heart. “You are not useless.” He settles monotonously, cautiously. There are sticky residues in the roof of Apos’ mouth, but he cannot expel more syllables to wash them away. Many words want to overflow, but his lips stay sealed and grim, waiting for Erblu’s retort.

A silent staring match begins, but soon enough, Erblu gives him a wispy smile in resignation. “You always have your way.” Then, a yellow glow pulsating with Eid’s warm energy covers them both like a membrane, stitching up cuts and soothing the bruises. Apos brings a hand to ghost over the fading purple on Erblu’s wrist as the other settles the floral-printed box down on the ground.

“You still don’t want to go back?” He repeats the question once more, even when they have both known the full answer. It’s another routine Apos doesn’t understand the full value of. Or maybe he does, but that would be admitting something deeply unpleasant even an apostate cannot repudiate. He is above doubt, above the absurdity that implicates mortals, for Apos is not man.

And yet…

“I don’t like to break vows,” Erblu’s gaze remains calm like it has been for years, his lips bleeding red with promise-there was a small cut on it Apos hasn’t taken notice before. Something inside him flutters, then lands gently in his core. Apos lets out a sigh, leans down to land a kiss that’s deep and slow, his tongue tasting the blood and warmth.

“Next time, bring me with you when you want to travel farther away,” he whispers on the corner of Erblu’s mouth, less of a suggestion than a promise. Erblu leans into his chest, his soft hair tickling Apos’ nose.

“…Okay,” and soon, soft breathing fills the space as Erblu’s full weight presses on his frame. Apos’ arms wrap around his small waist, bringing the other closer, then carefully places him on top of a clean patch of grass.

Erblu’s heartbeat and bodily warmth are getting more consistent everyday-increasing mortality showcasing the early signs of demotion, edging Apos on with anxiety. Eating and running have become less of frivolous experiments and more of efforts of necessities, when Erblu’s stomach can begin to growl and his wings in celestial form have been shrinking. Apos wants to curse Her pride, Her reluctant on relinquishing a fragment of Herself to be engaged with a corrupted being. Her ignorance on Erblu’s obstinate love is the worst offense, because instead of scorning the mortals’ limitations and their follies, he has learnt to accept and sympathize with them. Her persistent, divine crusade to win back a lost loyalty prolongs their suffering, their doubts, their bonds. Their love.

Apos declared Erblu’s intractability a weakness when they first met, when he was still young and scared and thrilled that someone can betray their own supreme being to salvage his futile life. Erblu has smiled at him back then and labeled it an imperfection, before letting his entire essence charm a hungry heart.

Apos lies down on the grass, wraps an arm around Erblu’s frame, and breathes in all of his warmth. He lands a soft kiss on Erblu’s hair, in pardon, as there’s no divine to accompany them in a confessional, not anymore. They will learn to live with their follies, with their foolishness.

And perhaps, that is all the salvation they ever need.

....

Headcanons:

[”Ishmael actually cares (in selectivity)” AU]

Celestials’ human bodies do not have heartbeats. Nor do they breathe nor bleed red, actually (I imagined either what flows out of their wounds is clear blue crystal liquid-the essence of Ishmael, or they wouldn’t even bleed at all.) They are beings far from the essence of mortality despite taking the form of humans. Base Ain and first class Ains may use magic to try and imitate these features in order to fit in with the humans for the mission, but as time goes on, only Erblu continues keeping up the veneer out of a desire to assimilate with human society.

When Erblu turns more “human���, his vessel cannot handle the El’s magic nor the divine power granted to a celestial, even if he can chant them. His powers are not as strong, and he can easily tire himself out using these powers. I originally wanted to make the consequences more devastating but I just couldn’t bring myself to.