#avagrantsoul

[lastdxnce]

「 avagrantsoul」 

     "Ah," Inigo let out, and his dark eyes blinked briefly at the young man, seeming to  materialize out of thin air beside him. It was odd, to say the least, to consider the boy a son, yet the silvery locks and certain features made it... almost believable.

     Still, Inigo and all the other children at camp were proof that time-travel was a very real possibility, so the young dancer figured he'd get used to it; only he wondered what secrets the other might let slip about the mercenary.

     "Say, erm... Morgan. How old are you, anyway?"

[woshixia]

    "..."

[grim-perdition-archive]

[Happy birthday, Yuan!]

//- Thank you dearie! :D

[loveanddisarray]

@Kaitlyn I am still working on saving some money for the dream catchers.... so many things have come up but I want them! :(

[flourpicker-blog]

Meme: Kill Me, a smile given at the end.

Leave a “Kill Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character killing yours.

     "Don’t be stupid, son. Of course I won’t… killing another is already something I consider to be such horrible thing.“ Inigo ventured to stare right into his child’s eyes, still holding onto the disbelief that he was real. Was he really? “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you stupid.” He hadn’t realized his mistake until he saw the muted expression on Morgan’s face.

     "It’s okay, father… I understand! I lack common sense, I know, but… don’t you know where I get it from?“ He challenged, incidentally evoking a laugh out of his father.

     "That’s true– no one can argue with that! Never change, kiddo.” The mercenary mussed up his son’s hair, playfully winking at him, “By the way, you’re grounded.”

      “W-What? Why?”

      “Just kidding. Go to bed– also, don’t think too hard, okay? Or you’ll end up like Ottis.”

       Strands of white hair whipped around in the air, blood tinting the very tips of it. A noticeable frown twitched on his features, as he observed the enemy’s blood on his hands. Killing. Death. Murdering. Every battle was like this, a bloody massacre. Maybe he shouldn’t have joined the final battle against Grima. Visibly, he twitched– his own sword faltering in his grasp. Where was his mother? Where was his father? She… she should be giving out the orders, right? Why wasn’t she saying anything?

       "Mother? Father?“ Morgan screamed, his voice blending in with the war cries of the Risen. He blanched. Where were they? He didn’t want to be alone. Was any of his allies nearby– he should at least find one of the Shepherds here. Tightening his hold on his blade, he scurried past hordes of Risen threatening to take his life.

       "Boohoo, mommy and daddy are dead. What are you going to do now?” A voice boomed, a shrill giggle followed immediately. “I killed them– who else would? And you’re going to be just like them. How merciful am I to give you some special treatment? You won’t be killed, dearie, just… out of control. Sounds fun, huh~?♥" The voice revealed to be a hooded woman donning the very same robes he wore, alongside the very dragon they stood and fought on. She yanked her hood off, revealing her features.

       "M-Mother?” That can’t be right. The woman said that his mother was did… possibly she was lying? Did… did Grima take over his mother instead? “Why… I thought we were going to win. I thought we were going to get rid of Grima! But the worst has ensued… Mother, Naga, Father… I don’t know what to do!”

        “Ah, there’s a reaaaaaaaaaaaaally simple solution to your dilemma, Morgan." A smirk appeared on Grima’s features, ”S̤̫͡ͅu͉͈̳̤̖b̗̺͔̪͇m̷̨̮̗̖̖̣͙̬̜í̵̪͖͈̪̀ṭ̹͙̦͖͈̦͢ ̶̧̤̣̥̤͎t͍͈̕͠o̵͙̝̱͙͇̮̬̕͡ ̞̜̜̤̥͖̲̹ͅm̸̛̖̻͖̙̩̺̣̗ͅe̻͎̱͇̭.“

         "N-Never! Never in my life!” Morgan screamed, as he raised his sword in the air. Even if she looked just like his mother, he had to do this. Otherwise, he would die. He would let her win and take over his body. “I’d die before becoming your servant!”

       “You would? What a shame! I was looking forward to utilizing your potential, Morgan." She managed to stifle her snickers upon one thing coming to fruition. It would just be cruel if she didn’t reveal her thoughts to the poor, innocent boy. "But why won’t you take my offer? It’s not like there’s anything left for you, you know. No parents to impress with your ‘outstanding achievements’– there’s no point! Why try when they’re not gonna see it? They’re dead!”

“Haha, that’s right, isn’t it… they’re dead…” The tactician laughed bitterly, his tone not at all elated. “Maybe you’re lying, and they’re actually alive! Wouldn’t that be great…” He droned on, with a bleak expression plastered onto his face.

         “So, Morgan, do you want to try to kill me? I’ll tell you if you best me… or better yet, submit to me.”

“… I… fine. Nothing matters anymore! All of my hope for this world died alongside them!” He clenched his fist, before shooting an ill-mannered glower at the dragon. “I’m sorry, Ottis. I’m sorry I’m bowing out so easily. Wouldn’t you have done the same thing? You definitely would, knowing that your sister died… and then the people you loved most passed away as well. Optimism didn’t win this time. I submit to your will, Grima. Do whatever. I don’t care.”

         “Great! I’m happy that this will be beneficial to both of us." Grima’s consciousness manifested into dark mist, and he could tell that it was slowly heading into his own direction. He gulped. Did he really want to throw away his life that easily?

         "Morgan!” The voice was crisp and clear, alike to his father’s distressed tone. He… was dead, wasn’t he? His father couldn’t possibly be screaming at him right now. “Tch… this damn dragon. You know, I’m grounding you after this.”

          It was definitely Inigo, the man he admired and respected– even reflecting his father’s traits as his own. He couldn’t see through all of the dark mist that shrouded him.

         “Wow, the happy joyful father-son reunion. You know, I don’t have all day to wait on you.”

“Robin? I-Is that you?” Inigo faltered, stepping back a bit. Grima’s voice still distinctly sounded like Robin’s, albeit more twisted sounding. “Stupid Grima… trying to use my wife and my son as human shields.”

          “Well, if you wanna kill me, you gotta kill your son first!”

          “Just do it, father.” Morgan asserted, dropping his sword to the ground. “Do it quickly, before she takes control of me.”

          “No… was this what you were hinting at before when we had that chat the other day? Did you anticipate for this to happen?” Tears enveloped his eyes, as Inigo squeezed his sword, reluctant to raise it against his own flesh and blood.

         "It’s okay, father. It’s not like I’m your real son… Just end this.“ A hesitant smile appeared on Morgan’s face, tears accompanying his expression. "It’s okay. You have to, or Grima is going to kill us all. She’ll disappear and be satisfied once you kill me.”

         "Huh, you are just that confident, huh?“

         "Trust me, I’m a tactician.” Morgan couldn’t help but flash that familiar grin at his father.

          “Morgan, just remember one thing. I… we love you. Please… don’t make me do this.” Inigo sobbed, frantically swatting the tears out of his eyes. “Gods, your mother would hate to see me like this. I look so stupid right now… Covered in blood and sweat, and on the brink of killing my own son. What kind of man am I?”

          “A great one.” A pout appeared on Morgan’s face, “Look, we don’t have that much time. Just do it!”

         "No… I can’t.“

         "Hey, if you don’t do it, I will! What’s more painful– Grima’s Truth or some sword?" Slyly, Grima interrupted. She sauntered over to Inigo, and placed her hand on his sword hand, pointing it directly at Morgan. "Come on. Death is imminent, anyways. Might as well get it over with. Look on the bright side, he won’t suffer from all of those bad things when he gets older." 

       With a snort, she flicked Inigo harshly, nudging him to stab Morgan. When no response came, she pushed him instead, causing Inigo’s blade to inadvertently burrow its way into his son’s chest.

         ”… ngh.“ Morgan cringed at the pain, but still kept the smile on his face. "It’s okay, father! Didn’t I tell you?”

         "You did.“ He murmured in response. "I’m the worst.”

         "Don’t say that. You’re the… the… aha, not enough blood for me now to live.“

         "You’re just like your grandfather, it’s ridiculous.”

         "We will meet again, father. I truly believe in that.“ Light-heartedly, he smiled, which urged Inigo to smile right back at him. "Please smile for me.”

[woshixia]

"Ottis, look!" Morgan yelled suddenly, hitching up his trousers carefully for the other to get a look at his legs. He had walked the entire way to reach the raven haired male with no boots on just for this, but what his father had said had made him curious; naturally the young tactician wanted to test it out. "Father mentioned that your father had some 'weird obsession' with legs." Which got him thinking, what kind of obsession and did Ottis have it too?

      “What, you wanted me to compliment your skimpy chicken legs?” Ottis flippantly replied, his words accompanied with a snort. The tactician averted his gaze from Morgan’s… wondrous display, and attempted to dismiss him. This idiot was being… well, idiotic. His brain couldn’t think up of any intelligent words due to this kid. Assumingly, of course, Morgan’s dumb father made his son think that his friend had a leg fetish. Which he does not.

      Probably.

      “Alright, I’m going to count to ten. By the time I reach ten, you better have sprinted back as well as you can with those tiny sticks and put your stupid boots back on.” The raven slowly stated, purposefully making it so even a a little kid like him would understand. Of course, even though he hated to admit it, the little tactician wannabe was smart. “One… two… three…”