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tamingthemuseTitle: Quite Time
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Apathy
Warnings: May contain traces of m/m.
Rating: PG
Summary: New idea that just may make it into an actual story. What is one supposed to do when the one you’ve always desired has all but dropped into your lap? You hold on as tight as you can, even if he’s given up on life.
Ixzili had always been odd.
Sarlic frowned at the spirit’s back. His hair had drifted from over his shoulder and down his back. It was as black as Sar’s shadows, but shimmered in the weak winter light. He looked healthy enough, but, as he had thought before, Ixzili had always been odd.
Sarlic reached out and laid a hand on the spirit’s shoulder and wasn’t surprised when he didn’t react. “What’s the matter with you, spirit?”
His shoulders lifted in a shrug. He opened his mouth to speak, but changed his mind and sighed instead. Sarlic nearly growled in frustration. When his brother had been alive, Sar was sure that the spirit hadn’t been so listless. In fact, he vividly remembered their first meeting, on the field of battle. He’d stood up to him then, fear clouding his eyes, but holding his weapon in steady hands. He had fought with certainty and near passion.
He hadn’t liked fighting, but he was willing to defend himself to the utmost degree.
Ixzili hadn’t landed any blows on Sarlic, and had fled their bout after receiving a wayward arrow through his arm.
Sarlic still thought that that had been a ploy by the higher ups on the spirits’ side to get their shinning prince out of battle. Sarlic had been impressed with the spirit then, as young as they both were. He had never forgotten him, and was dumbfounded when his younger brother returned home from a year long voyage with Ixzili as his lover. He’d never felt such jealously before.
And now, this is what he got. Finally, Ixzili was his, and the spirit was overcome with apathy.
He had lost weight since the last time Sar had seen him, his naturally thin body even more so, his smile nonexistent. It was almost scary, would be scary if Sar hadn’t known that Ixzili was a spirit, not human or demon, like himself.
Spirits didn’t die, or feel the sufferings of hunger and thirst. Something demons and humans would always resent them for. But that was a thought for war, not here in the silence of the late day. Ixzili slowly got to his feet, only swaying slightly on his feet, one hand held out to the chair to catch him if he fell.
“I’ll go to bed, I think.”
“It’s early yet.”
He shrugged again, more of his hair dropping from over his shoulder and swinging against his back. Sar watched it, confusion clenching his heart. He too stood and followed Ixzili out of the room and down the hall. Ixzili cast him those looks that always got on his nerves. The looks that said he was an unwanted companion, an annoyance, hated. He growled and Ixzili frowned, a line forming between his brows. But he didn’t say anything, nor did he hasten his steps.
He stopped at the door to the room Sar had given him, one hand on the hard wood, looking up at the demon with eyes that were soulless.
Sar tried to read anything in them. Any sign of the passion and personality that had once filled those vivid green eyes with life. He looked tired.
Sarlic really couldn’t blame him. Their generation had been through so much, it was any wonder that any of them were sane. But war hadn’t done this to him. After the first war, Ixzili had still had his vibrancy, his joy in life, as odd as that was for a spirit, a creature of the afterlife and death.
It had to have been his brother’s death that had done this to Ixzili, Sar finally settled on. They had been together for a long time. Far longer than anybody had ever thought possible. Spirits and demons didn’t mix well. Sometimes they would partner up with a human, but a human was caught in between life and death. Spirits and demons were just too opposite.
Then he snorted. Ixzili’s eyes shot to his face, confusion once again clouding over the apathy. Sar smiled. “I’m just like my brother, aren’t I?”
Ixzili shook his head. “Not at all.”
“Ah, but I am.” He leaned forward and caught his lips in a quick, chaste kiss that had Ixzili pulling away, something akin to horror filling his eyes. He brought the back of his hand to his mouth to wipe away the touch. Sar laughed.
“I am. I’ve fallen for you, after all. Good night, spirit.”
Ixzili watched him walk away, and Sar had to smile. That look had such passion. True, it was hatred, but he was still there. He just needed time. If Sar could wait that long.
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Apathy
Warnings: May contain traces of m/m.
Rating: PG
Summary: New idea that just may make it into an actual story. What is one supposed to do when the one you’ve always desired has all but dropped into your lap? You hold on as tight as you can, even if he’s given up on life.
Ixzili had always been odd.
Sarlic frowned at the spirit’s back. His hair had drifted from over his shoulder and down his back. It was as black as Sar’s shadows, but shimmered in the weak winter light. He looked healthy enough, but, as he had thought before, Ixzili had always been odd.
Sarlic reached out and laid a hand on the spirit’s shoulder and wasn’t surprised when he didn’t react. “What’s the matter with you, spirit?”
His shoulders lifted in a shrug. He opened his mouth to speak, but changed his mind and sighed instead. Sarlic nearly growled in frustration. When his brother had been alive, Sar was sure that the spirit hadn’t been so listless. In fact, he vividly remembered their first meeting, on the field of battle. He’d stood up to him then, fear clouding his eyes, but holding his weapon in steady hands. He had fought with certainty and near passion.
He hadn’t liked fighting, but he was willing to defend himself to the utmost degree.
Ixzili hadn’t landed any blows on Sarlic, and had fled their bout after receiving a wayward arrow through his arm.
Sarlic still thought that that had been a ploy by the higher ups on the spirits’ side to get their shinning prince out of battle. Sarlic had been impressed with the spirit then, as young as they both were. He had never forgotten him, and was dumbfounded when his younger brother returned home from a year long voyage with Ixzili as his lover. He’d never felt such jealously before.
And now, this is what he got. Finally, Ixzili was his, and the spirit was overcome with apathy.
He had lost weight since the last time Sar had seen him, his naturally thin body even more so, his smile nonexistent. It was almost scary, would be scary if Sar hadn’t known that Ixzili was a spirit, not human or demon, like himself.
Spirits didn’t die, or feel the sufferings of hunger and thirst. Something demons and humans would always resent them for. But that was a thought for war, not here in the silence of the late day. Ixzili slowly got to his feet, only swaying slightly on his feet, one hand held out to the chair to catch him if he fell.
“I’ll go to bed, I think.”
“It’s early yet.”
He shrugged again, more of his hair dropping from over his shoulder and swinging against his back. Sar watched it, confusion clenching his heart. He too stood and followed Ixzili out of the room and down the hall. Ixzili cast him those looks that always got on his nerves. The looks that said he was an unwanted companion, an annoyance, hated. He growled and Ixzili frowned, a line forming between his brows. But he didn’t say anything, nor did he hasten his steps.
He stopped at the door to the room Sar had given him, one hand on the hard wood, looking up at the demon with eyes that were soulless.
Sar tried to read anything in them. Any sign of the passion and personality that had once filled those vivid green eyes with life. He looked tired.
Sarlic really couldn’t blame him. Their generation had been through so much, it was any wonder that any of them were sane. But war hadn’t done this to him. After the first war, Ixzili had still had his vibrancy, his joy in life, as odd as that was for a spirit, a creature of the afterlife and death.
It had to have been his brother’s death that had done this to Ixzili, Sar finally settled on. They had been together for a long time. Far longer than anybody had ever thought possible. Spirits and demons didn’t mix well. Sometimes they would partner up with a human, but a human was caught in between life and death. Spirits and demons were just too opposite.
Then he snorted. Ixzili’s eyes shot to his face, confusion once again clouding over the apathy. Sar smiled. “I’m just like my brother, aren’t I?”
Ixzili shook his head. “Not at all.”
“Ah, but I am.” He leaned forward and caught his lips in a quick, chaste kiss that had Ixzili pulling away, something akin to horror filling his eyes. He brought the back of his hand to his mouth to wipe away the touch. Sar laughed.
“I am. I’ve fallen for you, after all. Good night, spirit.”
Ixzili watched him walk away, and Sar had to smile. That look had such passion. True, it was hatred, but he was still there. He just needed time. If Sar could wait that long.
