ouroborous

indie, private lord derosso by lumi

[foreverfated]

“Who can ever know what path to walk on when all of them are either crooked or broken? One just has to walk.”

#foreverfated ✦ ────  independent, private and mutuals only ✦ ────  a portrayal of lord derosso from square enix's 'bravely default' series.

✦ ──── a study in defying a doomed fate, of the peace achieved through violence, overcoming grief and forging a new life when everything has been lost. ✦ ────

──── ✦ beloved by lumi | 32 she/they | pst timezone est 2017, revived 2025 ──── minors + personals dni ──── ✦

carrd | memes | promo blogroll: aamaranthiine | skyscng

credits: graphics by cosmicresource & hyruleshop

[eritvita]

Scents of clove weep with the wafts of sage and amber, that golden drip what clings to the bark of these numerous trees, and that concoction gleans Roland onto a blessed familiarity: of course wouldst he stalk his ancient Friend, his inhuman companion of many tales and laughing riots.

"A 'mop'?" yet dost he squawk, dropping from a canopy so above as if so appropriately summoned.

He drops heavily, yet lithely, a shower of leaves and gentle acorns dropping down to shimmer around Roland's stoutly Forme; a shocked look upon his handsome face, e'en if grass-stained and unshaved. "As if am I naught the most Proud, the most magnificent, finely coiffed and shaped onto pure Beauty!"

And he guffaws sharply at himself, crouching within the brush as a Greene gremlin nearby. He beams gloriously. "Hello, Lazarus. How goes with thee?"

[foreverfated]

Lazarus stops as the trees rustle and leaves dance from the canopy with Roland's descent, nimble and spry as any creature of the forest. His expression is impassive in the wake of the other's apparent shock but the way his eyes crinkle at the corners hint to good humor from the somber man. "Oh yes, that is why the nymphs flee at the sight of you." Voice toneless even as he playfully mocked Roland more.

Idle hands fixed the cuffs of his jacket, bundled warm against the creeping autumn chill murmuring through the boughs. Whether or not he could even feel the cold is up for debate, given the point of his ears and the slight hint of fangs beneath full lips. "Good day to you too, Roland," always polite even when far from high society, where he seemed to belong at a glance.

"I am ever wandering, as you know. Unfortunately the last town's magistrate and I did not agree on the merits of hospitality." An almost coy tilt of his head, eyes glinting, "And I may have set his house ablaze for it. I am some hours ahead of any pursuit, so I would caution you of keeping to this road."

[foreverfated]

yells into the abyss abt how much lazarus loves perospero its giving me cavities and in this essay i will

[luvccubus]

 ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ʚ𖦹ɞ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Lazarus' hand against his arm was like a shock to his system, making him flinch against the brush of fingers against his skin. The candy once crawling up his limbs paused, his lover's voice partially bringing him back from the hole he had dug himself into. Anxiety still swam in his stomach, numbed the back of his head, but Lazarus' close proximity to him brought at least a bit of comfort. But...he still felt wrong needing said comfort. Perospero was a grown-ass man, what sort of person needed kind words && touches like they were some depressed teenager?

❝ It's not about you being upset with me, perorin, ❞ Perospero sighed, slumping in his chair, clay && candy covered hands limp at his sides, ❝ It is rude of me to not pay attention && all I can do when I realize that I've been staring again is make myself feel selfish. I should really be able to deal with this sort of thing at my age. ❞

Perospero doesn't vocalize how much of a chore he felt it was to take care of him. Mama had always made it clear that she cared little for taking care of her own children, one of the many reasons Perospero had such a big hand in caring for some of his younger siblings. Lazarus never said it, but surely at his much larger age he found mortals emotions to be tiring. It wouldn't have surprised him to find out that, despite his seemingly endless love for him, Lazarus was holding his tongue for Perospero's sake.

❝ You're far too kind, ❞ he said, arms raising to wrap gently around his partner, not caring if he dirtied any clothes, ❝ I'm very happy that you chose me to settle down with, even after centuries of being alive. I just wish I had the confidence I had when Mama was still alive... ❞

When had Perospero become so...depressing? Was it when Mama died on his watch? When Cacao Island had been frozen over && Pudding kidnapped? Or had there always been something there, waiting for the dam to finally crack?

━━━━━━━━━━━━ ʚ𖦹ɞ━━━━━━━━━━━━

[foreverfated]

It is not that Lazarus ever found himself weary of mortals but rather he was often uncertain. There were still many years ahead of slowly reworking his perceptions of the world and others that resided within it, when he had lived for centuries alone — aside from the company of his fienish servants that is. There had been Yulyana of course, his one and only friend during the final millennia he'd spent on Luxendarc. The Sage had softened him but he'd always been wary of others, which carried over into his life now in Totto Land.

Lazarus found himself falling into old habits still, with how he'd taken a fondness to Perospero and only kept less than a handful of other friends. Which was indeed a lot more than one but people still confused him here, so he often chose to be silent.

He still does not quite understand why Perospero is upset and there's a telling crease in his eyebrows for it. "I would think you are allowed to be selfish sometimes, when you have spent your whole life serving the whims of your family. Never having a genuine moment to yourself." He leans into the embrace gladly and continues, "You forget I spent centuries alone, Peros. I was a pariah to my entire world, a nightmare mothers told misbehaving children." All said in a very mild tone, stating facts about his life.

"My life here is new, I am still learning how to assimilate. I never know half of what to say when my neighbors invite me over, or when a friend just drops by for an unexpected visit. I struggle with my own confidence, you have seen it." Lazarus squeezes his lover's arms gently in emphasis, "Our lives have changed drastically in such a short time. We both need to give ourselves some grace."

He leans away then and instead takes both of Perospero's hands in his, uncaring for that they are each caked in clay, "I will admit that all the time I spend with you is because I am selfish. Horribly, unapologetically selfish, because I love you and I will always love you." His tone is somehow both somber and earnest.

[ikkaku-of-heart]

The man's calm confidence was oddly pleasing to Ikkaku. After all, she liked a decent challenge, and the way he spoke made it clear he wouldn't throw a tantrum or make a spectacle if - when - he lost this game. A graceful loser was much preferable to someone who couldn't accept he'd gotten himself into this mess in the first place.

Of course, that didn't mean the others at the table were as capable of not getting their panties in a twist when they lost. Some of them might have some chill, but she knew that the majority of pirates who played poker together had the unfortunate habit of being dumbasses who couldn't take a loss or hit to their pride.

Ah well. She'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

"Good to see a man who just enjoys having fun. That's the most important part of life, isn't it? Playing for the love of the game, even if you lose?" A few of the men at the table snorted at that, but she ignored them. She already knew their type, and they were just there to add to her winnings, even if they didn't know it yet.

Picking up the new hand, Ikkaku kept her face blank, yet her dark eyes glittered a bit. Three of a kind. Not a bad hand to start. If she could get four of a kind, that would be even better and could beat out most other hands at the table, assuming they didn't have a Royal Flush or something.

"Money is the priority of those who don't have it. Makes me think you're already a rich man, if it's not part of your dream. Either that, or you're extremely enlightened and consider yourself above the monetary needs of the common man." She flashed him another grin. "As for my luck? I've felt lucky since I woke up with perfect hair this morning. Nothing could be luckier than that."

[foreverfated]

Their fellow players are given some measure of critical consideration, given their own wagers thrown in and whatever attitudes they might have. He expects them all to lose, honestly, because with how the game had been going it was either going to be the brunette woman taking the pot or there'd be a gunfight. Maybe both, from what he'd experienced in the past when playing games of chance with money on the table. Lazarus glances back to his cards thoughtfully, "Well, winning is nice when playing but fortune cannot always favor the bold. Life would get boring that way."

Lazarus reaches for his not-yet finished drink, peering at Ikkaku from over the rim and shrugging a single shoulder at her comments. "I put more worth on experiences and my hobbies, which can be costly but I have connections." He avoided outright admitting his ties to a Yonko's crew, thinking it nobody's business unless he was in present company of the Charlotte family. Which he isnt. This was a solo trip.

Oh? Does he dare let the tiniest twitch of a smile on his lips at her remark about waking up with perfect hair? It's faint but it is there. "Careful, that might be the only luck you get today."

One man folds his hand. Another follows. There's several heartbeats but no one else backs down. "Three of a kind, fives." Lazarus offers first, laying down his cards. The remaining players reveal theirs: both have two pairs. So it really does come down to Ikkaku and him.

[foreverfated]

A commission by Mrako on discord, featuring elements from multiple suits of a tarot deck.

I love this artist, I have been a patron of hers for many years. And I love how she captured Lazarus here. Likes are permitted, please do not repost this art elsewhere.

[luvccubus]

 ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ʚ𖦹ɞ━━━━━━━━━━━━  

Perospero was silent at first, cutting away any excess clay in the tidiest fashion he could manage. He could not lie to Lazarus, his partner was far too intune to his emotions, just as he was in tune to his, but he felt guilty that he'd allow something to overcome him when Lazarus had been so ecstatic to share something with him. They had been having such a great time together until something small, something insignificant had thrown Perospero off && made him wallow in his own emotions. He felt so selfish, making himself the center of attention when their little pottery lesson was supposed to be about the both of them.

❝ Are you sure you want to marry me? ❞ Perospero was quiet, looking away from Lazarus to the various art supplies that surrounded them. With such a cruel question, he could not look Lazarus in the eyes, he couldn't bear to see Lazarus' reaction to the sort of man Perospero assumed he'd think he thought he was. There was no, there would never be, any ill will towards his partner, but he feared it be perceived in such a way.

❝ I can't even pay attention when you're trying to teach me something, ❞ he murmured, ❝ A decent partner would have been enraptured by what you had to say, but instead I was gawking at you like you're some sort of animal at a zoo, perorin. That's not the first time that's happened either. ❞

Candy, willed by its owner, began to crawl up his arms && legs, threatening to encase him in his own shame, ❝ I can't even maintain a positive mood when we're trying to do something that we should both be enjoying. Wouldn't you be better off with someone less..anxious? ❞

The last part was said in a near whisper, a shame that Perospero had never, ever wanted to admit to himself. His anxiety had always been great && he had a number of anxiety attacks before, swallowed down by his duty to his family && to his mother especially. Not once had he ever bothered to see a doctor about it, fearful of being perceived as weak by his siblings. So, he'd spent nights curled into himself, trying to will himself to stop the shaking && crying that so often plagued him as he tried to sleep. With Lazarus, those nights had become few && far between, but not once had Perospero ever felt good about putting his partner through that.

 ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ʚ𖦹ɞ━━━━━━━━━━━━  

[foreverfated]

Lazarus is content to wait for as long as necessary for Perospero to get his thoughts in order. Patience is one of the virtues he had an almost limitless supply of, as it came with the territory of having lived for a few millennia already. He could wait and wait and wait, never complain once and exist comfortably in the silence until it was broken. He can almost see the gears turning in his partner's head and tries not to speculate on what might be distressing him exactly.

So it comes as a surprise for Perospero to ask him if he was certain about marriage. The artist does not retreat but his expression is as near to dumbfounded as it might ever get. He blinks it away and abandoning his project entirely, neatly shuffles across the table to where his lover stands on the opposite side. Choosing to say nothing, sensing there was more Peros had to get off his chest.

The crawl of a candy-shell up Peros' arms is interrupted by his own hands, grasping at a place just above before the confectionery shell reaches. "Have I ever been cross with you for being distracted just looking at me?" Lazarus asked in return, "You regard me as if I am someone worth wanting, when I have spent so long thinking the opposite." Even now he still struggled accepting being worth anything more than fear or scorn. "I find myself sometimes absent minded with you as well, it happens, we can both do better about paying attention."

Lazarus coaxes his partner closer, so he could press close, ear to the other's heart. "Of course I want to marry you, I want to build a life with you. I dont expect you to be perfect, or to overcome the suffering you endured easily. It is going to take time and effort to heal." He stays like that for now, listening to Perospero's heartbeat and enjoying the closeness.

[bloodxstarved]

"I've only been alone for a decade and it is quite miserable, your company is a gift." Alucard said as he refilled the other's glass. Taking a sip of his own he walked past Lazarus to start the tour. Through the grand hall where once vampires lords would meet and down the corridor and up some stairs.

He showed the old ballroom and music room, the various labs for science, engineering, and alchemy. To another wing of the castle was the library and astrology tower, unfortunately the large telescope had collapsed and damaged a whole wall and part of the ceiling caved in. "I managed to move all of the books from this library to another area of the castle, but they were exposed to the elements. The telescope is functional but I fear if I try to move it this part of the tower might completely crumble."

[foreverfated]

Alucard had been alone for a decade? Lazarus understood the drudgery of loneliness from his own early years in solitude. He did, however, spend that time and far longer researching and growing his strength. So it was not as if he'd been idle. The memories are so faint now though and he brushes them aside, far too accustomed to being alone than he would care to admit to his host. And so he follows Alucard dutifully through the many hallways, lingering in the music room at first because he'd seen a few familiar instruments.

"Is that piano tuned?" Asked as the tour continues, "If you have the manual for its care, I can try my hand at it." Most, if not all, the rooms are of interest to him in some way or fashion. He'd lived long enough to cultivate a wide range of knowledge, though none so vast as his learning in magic, alchemy and artistry. The shade considers the damaged area where the telescope had collapsed, "Perhaps together we could stabilize it? A few support structures around it, move the telescope and take repairs from there."

Just suggestions of course, but he'd done similar work in the past during his attempts to reconstruct his ancestral home from scratch.

[vernades]

"You'd be surprised. Dragons aren't that hard to kill if you simply freeze the brain or you can lock dragonfire in its guts and make them implode," Sypha said as they eyed the gargoyle hovering over Lazarus, already mentally calculating how it could be killed if it came to that. They weren't the sort of sadist who killed indiscriminately, but as it was, Sypha couldn't afford to hold back when it came down to it. They wouldn't deny there was some darkness in their heart, a stain that had been blackened on the night their coven had been gathered and slaughtered like cattle from a pyre that had taken almost all of them. It had created a well of hatred that hadn't gone away despite the part they'd played in destroying Dracula and so many his minions; some of them had escaped, and those demons had been responsible for the genocide of their family they'd held dear. And now, that emptiness had festered into a darkness that would take a long time to be pacified.

That darkness was merciless and was willing to fight to the end. For a pyrrhic victory, for scorched earth. None of it mattered so long as some smirking demon burned in a rage so holy that it sublimated into a kind of forgiveness for the atrocities they couldn't prevent. All the same... an igneous core could be used against this creature. If it was hewn from stone and mortar, they could use ice to wheedle through the cracks or utilize an inferno so hellish that it cracked and disintegrated into rubble.

"I'll put it bluntly: I can't trust your word. You coming here has been a recent venture, and the Church is growing restless. Compared to them, I can actually listen. Otherwise, you'll have an army of fanatics beating down your door sooner than you think." The war against Dracula had claimed the lives of thousands of faithful. Now in the wake of Dracula's demise, the ordinary people and its echelons were stirred into a rage. Sypha had seen it several times since the end of Dracula's reign of terror.

"But, all the same, I'm also more powerful than the majority of the Church. I can hunt down and destroy much more than they can. That leaves you at a bit of crossroads, doesn't it?" There was a bit of playfulness in Sypha's eye, a glint of mischief that normally wouldn't have been extant. Perhaps it was just a consequence of growing into their power that made them a warlord in their own right. "Or, I can simply decimate you both and raze this castle to the ground. I don't mind either way."

[foreverfated]

The informative comment about how to kill dragons is met with that ever present indifferent expression. He knew how to slay dragons, given he had raised an entire clutch by hand some centuries ago and familiarized himself with their physiology. The thought of his now long-dead pets did bring with it a pang of grief though. Did dragons exist in this world then? Some part of his brain was spinning with the notion of going egg-hunting. Momentarily distracted by this possible venture, Lazarus had almost forgotten Sypha entirely and almost faded into the shadow cast by his gargoyle.

Half of his legs had turned nearly incorporeal before solidifying again, reaching up to tangle his fingers into the ash-black coat of his pet and guardian. He sighs at the wizard's insistence that they could not trust him at his word. Unfortunately, the shade had to admit they had a point. As it was well within the realm of possibility to them that he was lying through his fangs. "The Church can choke on their own rosaries for all I care," were they as insufferable here as in Luxendarc? Gods, that would be his fortune, wouldnt it?

"The reality of your proposed crossroads is that I do not want conflict and you, even if you may be powerful, could not kill me. I cannot die." Lazarus tells them bluntly, his tone so flat it couldnt be boasting whatsoever. "And it would be a shame to raze such a beautiful castle to ash, I have not even finished cleaning it out." The gargoyle above him lets out a chittering sound of agreement.

"So, what might I do or offer to you, to prove my sincerity then? You may take a look inside even, though it is in disarray, as I just bested a poltergeist who enjoyed throwing furniture around." And admittedly his own Clerical magic was exceptionally weak here, without any trace of the Crystals he once held reverently. "You do not strike me as the type to take monetary bribes, but I might be wrong."

[foreverfated]

@zaunite-hound ♡'d for a starter

The Lanes are perhaps too familiar to the artist by now and he thinks sourly of the blathering it would incite if the other Houses ever came to know. Another black mark against the disgraced DeRosso family - not that there are any of them left now, aside from himself. Yet it was precisely his connections here that allowed him some modicum of leverage, enough to at least claw his own reputation out from the pits.

Lazarus makes for an inconspicuous man when he wants to be, dressed plainly and without any valuable adornment. He'd loosely tied his hair back with a leather strip and it would only be when he spoke that his Piltovan accent gave him away. He'd settled himself at The Last Drop with a book, waiting for… Well, waiting for someone, that is certain.

It's a shame they do not turn up.

Half an hour past their appointed time and he moves to settle at the bar counter, putting a few coins down. "Whatever is on tap, please." And a pause before he asks the bartender, "Do you know anyone who goes by Valdi?" That was the person he'd been waiting for.

[foreverfated]

@eritvita ♡'d for a starter

For about two miles now, Lazarus is certain he's being followed. The insect-quick flicker of movement between the trees, the occasional too loud crunch of autumn leaves underfoot nearby. He isnt terribly concerned but he also does not enjoy being tailed for any length of time. And the forest itself is going to take quite some time to cross until he reached his next destination.

Whatever that was, really. He didnt know. He just walked in a direction and waited to come across something or someone of interest.

"You are not being very quiet, you know." The shade says aloud, letting his somber voice carry easily, "is that you, Roland? I saw that mop of hair a few yards back." He suspected it was the Wild-borne man, whom he is convinced is part faerie. "If it isnt, well, at least have the sense to stop failing to be stealthy."

[foreverfated]

starter call | mutuals only | multis please specify muse.

hit ♡ for a starter, will be verse appropriate per muse.

[foreverfated]

its almost bedtime for me but i did have an insane thought of retired-hashira lazarus au because the kny brainrot has me. he'd have tired dad energy lol

[foreverfated]

@tenthousandmusesmaybemore's Hikae ♡'d for a starter.

He hasnt really been paying attention to anything Hikae has been saying. Which is rude, yes, but Lazarus had only agreed to follow the other to where-ever or whatever he wanted to show him. He hadn't agreed to listening to the man prattle on and on en route. Yet he walks sedately beside the animated fellow, looking far more concerned for the sharpness of his claws than anything else.

"How much farther?" Lazarus interjects at some point, the serpentine-length of his tail coiling in an agitated manner behind him. The surrounding air is chilled by his presence and the night seems darker for it too - as though he soaked in any light and held it hostage within the cosmic shimmer of his wings.

"And what is it again you are trying to show me?"

[foreverfated]

@moonfelling's Ume hit ♡ for a starter.

"A wiser person would consider my disinterest a mercy, an opportunity to pursue something that wont result in your grisly death."

It was perhaps the kindest way for him to say 'fuck off,' to the young wind-breather that had become his apparent personal bane. Even for all his instincts screaming at him to rip her apart, savor the taste of her flesh and hear her choke on her own blood - he simply could not. And it was perhaps his greatest shame as a demon. Lazarus just wanted to be left alone from that point on.

She might yet be culled by another of the horde, he did not care by whom really.

The sound of ice splintering from the whip-crack of his long tail, scattering shards that he had frozen from the moisture in the air. The jagged pieces sharp and gleaming, eager to cut and stain themselves with blood as they rained down towards Ume. It was a downpour of death but lazily conjured, meant more as a clear message of 'stay away.'

[foreverfated]

starter call | mutuals only | multis please specify muse.

hit ♡ for a starter, will be verse appropriate per muse.

[foreverfated]

starter call | mutuals only | multis please specify muse.

hit ♡ for a starter, will be verse appropriate per muse.