Iska



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  1. Public Bookmark 17

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    Nico groans and rolls his eyes, his shoulders slumping. “I’m not a witch,” he says dryly, “The witch lives about half of a mile that way.”

    He points down the somewhat run-down path in front of his home. The girl’s face twists in confusion. “There was only one other cottage along this path,” she says.

    “Then you know where to go,” he sighs.

    “But… the cottage had flowers and the boy waved at me. And you…” she trails off.

    “I what? Don’t have flowers?” he snorts, crossing his arms across his chest.

    -----

    Or, Nico isn't a witch. Really, he isn't. Will, however? Well, he's not totally sure what Will is.

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    17 Oct 2021

  2. Public Bookmark 5

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    Prompto’s not entirely sure how it happens. One minute he’s helping his friends fight off some monsters in the latest craggy mountain valley they’ve trekking through, the next moment the ground gives way under his feet and he’s pitching down the side of a steep canyon.

    [Written for Day 12 of Whumptober2021, for the Alternate Prompt ‘head injury’.]

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    13 Oct 2021

  3. Public Bookmark 16

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    Prompto’s eyes widen and he chokes on nothing but dry air, his sore throat constricting into another ragged cough. He unscrews the orange juice bottle, drinks until he can’t breathe, coughs again, then changes Cor’s contact name to Mr. Sir Immortal Marshal in a panicked haze. Then, he dials Noct’s number.

    “Noct,” Prompto whispers after hearing the click, his voice low and raspy, “the Immortal is in my house.”

    Noct gives his small huff laughter, the one he gives when he genuinely finds something funny, but it's quickly cut off.

    “Well next time, answer your phone and I won’t have to sic him on you,” Prompto can hear his pout and the weight of guilt presses heavier on his chest. He presses his fist into his mouth to muffle a cough.

     

    In which Prompto is sick and it summons the Dad out of Cor. Also, everyone loves Prompto and he deserves to know it.

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    13 Oct 2021

  4. Public Bookmark 9

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    Thanatos takes out the warm vial, turning it over and over in his left hand. “Ares,” he murmurs, mouthing the name more than he says it. And almost at once, he senses a presence—one that would send many a being scuttling away, but calms him in a way he can’t explain. 

    Thanatos grapples—with his work, with mortals, and with his feelings for Lord War.

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    11 Oct 2021

  5. Public Bookmark 47

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    Theo barges his way into the afterlife to demand assistance from the Master of Death. And apparently fall deeply in love with him while he's at it.

    Something hauls him out of the sea, up onto the boat. Green eyes pin Theo fiercely to the spot, but even the simmering irritation there can’t stop Theo from pulling himself upright, smacking the hand away from his shoulder. He may look like a drowned rat, but he still has some dignity.

    “What the hell were you thinking?” the man demands. “You can’t just throw shit at my boat and then fling yourself into the damn sea.”

    “You weren’t stopping,” Theo explains primly. “I needed a lift.”

    "I'm the Master of Death," the man says, looking baffled. "I don't do lifts."

    Language:
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    03 Oct 2021