#dc comics#batman#dc#batfam#tim drake#bruce wayne#dick grayson#dc universe#batfamily#dc fanart
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six sentence sunday
my body has been in SO MUCH PAIN the past few weeks but I am RECOVERED and I am BACK in the saddle
~
“There were… times… a lot of times, that it felt like we couldn’t walk into a town without you striking someone’s fancy… Still does, a bit.” Nova admitted. “People would line up to get a piece of you, if you let ‘em. Which, I know you never would, but—look, I don’t know who you ran into before me, I’m just—all I’m saying, is that it wouldn’t have surprised me if you knew more about how this worked than I did. That’s all.”
He didn’t look especially proud to have said all of that aloud--particularly when he caught sight of Erik grinning and snickering under his hand, and Nova glared at him with cheeks and ears pink. Unfortunately for him, it didn’t make Erik find this any less funny.
“Ohhhh. Is that what this is? Is somebody a little jealous~?”
“Mia’s made a whole courier business over how many love letters you get from her classmates.” Nova muttered, with a healthy amount of possessiveness. “I’m being reasonable.”
“Reasonable and greedy! Didn’t think I’d see the day.” Nova merely huffed once, and Erik laughed. “Well, for your information--I don’t know any more than you, so don’t worry about it. Honestly, I probably know even less. You’re the only one I’ve ever gone this far for.”
He wrapped an arm around Nova’s shoulders, pulling him close enough to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, just to prove his point. “And I’ve already got the Academie’s best medal hunter right here, so those girls really don’t have much to impress me with, anyway.”
hewwo mom, 1 for luminerik?
genuinely have been thinking about this since you sent this in and now i get to properly rub my hands together like a fly
The problem with having a lot of clothes to chose from now, Erik was coming to understand, was never knowing what to wear.
It was a frivolous worry, and he knew it, but now that he could actually set aside his tunic and sash and everything for a proper wash and not have to worry about literally being caught with his pants down, he could afford to be frivolous. He took it as a sign of success, if anything, that he now had the luxury to spend such time over his wardrobe while still half-dressed–not the biggest prize Erik had won, but no less valuable.
The opinion of his biggest prize was well needed now, however. “Hey, Nova. What’s your favorite thing that I wear?”
Nova had been getting ready all the while Erik stared down his closet, in more or less a fraction of the time. To a point, at least; the blue linen shirt and yellow duster of that ensemble had taken no time at all, but Nova had clearly been fiddling with that bandana for far longer than he should have.
(Erik had no idea where Gemma had gotten those togs from, but a part of him thought that maybe this was some comeuppance of hers, after Nova’s teasing comment about her consistent headscarf fetch quests.)
He stopped with the bandana, though, and turned to Erik with a genuine look of confusion. “Why my favorite?”
“Well, wouldn’t you know it: I have too many choices now.” Erik shrugged. “You’ve got a better eye for detail than I do.”
“Do not.”
“Uh, you do, though? As far as clothes are concerned, at least.” Erik grinned. “Don’t tell me all your forging finesse was just for show.”
Nova scoffed and rolled his eyes, but it was with a matching smile to Erik’s, so clearly no harm had been done. Even if Nova did think him silly for his reasons, he did still take a moment to mull over an answer.
“…The stole.” He said at last.
Erik blinked. “The stole?”
“Yeah.” Nova affirmed. “I always thought that looked really nice on you.”
“Huh.” Not that Nova’s opinion was wrong; Erik also thought the stole looked pretty good on him, and he’d never been especially shy about his body when it wasn’t a matter of life or death (Serena was another story, but this wasn’t about her, why did she wear a belly dancer outfit in a frozen tundra–). But it did seem odd for Nova to single that one out, specifically. “Bit of a dark horse there, aren’t you?”
“Wh–no!” Nova stammered. “Come on, Erik, don’t look at me like that.”
“I’m not, I’m not, I swear!” Erik just laughed, and raised hands in mock surrender before turning back to his wardrobe. “It just wasn’t what I was expecting, is all. It’s never been one you’ve said too much about.”
He continued to speak while he pulled out the stole in question, and gathered its smaller pieces out of a jewelry drawer. “You remember way back when it was just us, right? And we left after seeing Derk, and he gave me back my old coat from back in the day, and you kept saying how cool you thought it was.”
“Well–yeah, because it was cool.”
“It is! But then you got that pirate coat out of Nautica for me, and that was certainly a look you were taken with. And then that armor from… oh, where did you find it, Centralis?”
“Centralis.”
“Right. Anyway, my point is, the stole didn’t–I always thought it was more practical?” A practical outfit with a lot of flair, yes, but Erik didn’t mind that so much. Well, expect for the tie around his wrist, that thing was a nightmare to set correctly. “Never realized it made that much of an impression on you.”
After the third failed attempt to create that perfect criss-cross pattern, Erik clicked his tongue at the string, and turned back to ask Nova for help–but he didn’t make it very far before stopping in his tracks. “Nova?”
Nova wasn’t looking at him. Still seated in the vanity chair, he had his gaze focused intently on his lap, where his hands rested and wrenched that headscarf anxiously. To say nothing of the deep shade of red blooming on his face.
“…It’s, um.” Nova muttered, quietly. “It’s the one I made you.”
And it all clicked for Erik then, and a part of him couldn’t believe that hadn’t crossed his mind before. His other clothes were things he’d had before, or things found amongst treasure free for the taking; of course Nova, who always showed how much he cared for people with his own two hands, would favor that Erik wear something that he had crafted for him alone.
Even if it hadn’t been made with any initial romantic intent (and Erik greatly doubted it had been, they had a lot going on around the time they got that crafting recipe), it was an incredibly straight-forward reason for Nova to have. Naive, almost–but that was just how Nova was, and that was just how Erik loved him.
Goddess, he had a way of leaving Erik gobsmacked–without even the slightest bit of effort! His biggest prize, indeed.
Nova didn’t seem to notice when he came over, and only broke away from his hands when Erik curled a hand around his neck, pulling Nova towards him to press a kiss to his hair. Even from that, Erik could feel any remaining nervous tension bleed out of Nova, coupled with a quiet sigh of contentment, and when Erik pulled away, Nova looked up at him with those big, sweet eyes of his, soft and curious.
Erik said nothing, only smiled, and held out the tie he’d been fumbling with before. “Help me out with this thing, and I’ll set that bandana right.”
Nova didn’t respond for a moment, face blank, but that blush of his came back again, lighter and lovely, and he ran a hand through his hair with a sheepish smile before taking the string.
“You can’t,” he said as he wrapped the tie, “it’ll be too perfect. Gemma will know.”
“Mm, well.” Erik hummed. “She can know.”
Kissies for no reason at all! :3
....................:3c
[act 3 spoilers, implied act 2 spoilers]
Prayer had never been something that Erik was particularly good at. It isn’t as though he doesn’t believe. Of course he believes. Yggdrasil has been above him his entire life, above all of Vinaheim, and he’s seen Her blessings firsthand. He’s seen Her call the souls of their people’s departed back onto her branches (his father) and seen Her send new life onto the earth to be born (his sister). Yggdrasil is real, and Her majesty is real, and even if one doesn’t believe, it’s not hard to rationalize why people might think to worship a floating tree.
He believes in his lineage, too. Erdwin’s spirit flows in his veins alongside his blood, as it does in Mia’s, and Erik has never had any reason to doubt it. Aunt Seithr, for one, doesn’t lie, couldn’t afford to as the town’s spiritual leader, and even if she did lie, she wouldn’t to their mother; he’s heard enough stories about how the bold and stubborn Lady Freya would nurse him in one arm and wield a crossbow in the other, so the thought that anyone in their right mind would try to anger her is unthinkable.
That anyone would spread lies about Erdwin’s legacy and its continuation was foolhardy at best. But that was in part of why prayer was so hard. If Erdwin’s soul slept within him, even if only half, then why would he need to pray for his guidance? By logic, wouldn’t Erdwin have been guiding him all this time? Not always with clear intent, naturally--he did still have the sabrecat ears and tail--but trusting in Erdwin had gotten him this far, right?
It had led him to Gemma in the end, hadn’t it?
But that’s why he’s here now, he supposes: in Vinaheim’s cathedral, on his knees, praying to his goddess and his ancestor for the guidance he never thought he’d need. Annoyed and worried as he is that Gemma had suddenly wandered off, Erik can’t blame her for it--today was the day they’d finally make it to Yggdrasil, to find what She’s left for Gemma. To find Gemma’s destiny.
Erik would be scared, too. And he is. So he has to ask for help.
“O Erdwin, blessed ancestor…” He doesn’t pray, not often, but he’s watched his parents and godparents and friends and neighbors and everyone since he was little, so he knows. Prayer isn’t about reciting old words and habits; true prayer comes from the heart, from faith, and Erik has both in leaps and bounds. “The time has come at last for us to fulfill our destiny…”
Destiny is a strange concept for him. Destiny is something he’s never been entirely sure he believes in fully, at least when applied to him, but he can’t say he’s ever been pressed into Erdwin’s legacy--he and Mia were told of their significance as heirs, yet always had a choice from the start. Vinaheim values freedom of the self, of the community. But its people are adamant, and Erik has known all his life that life itself is about resolve, and the outcome is secondary.
To say nothing of common sense--even if his destiny is a farce, why wouldn’t he take the chance to help carry the burden of the Luminary, to lighten her shoulders even the faintest bit, knowing what he does? If destiny means nothing, would that resolve still not determine the value of his life? Would that resolve be meaningless?
Of course not. Erik is many things, but he isn’t a regretful fool.
“We’re going to use the Orbs to take the Luminary up to the World Tree, and she’s going to awaken the power that will banish the darkness…” Erdwin knows this, Erik is sure, watching their journey from behind his and Mia’s eyes. He must know why Erik is calling on him now, of all times, as well. But speaking is helping still his nerves, so speak Erik does. “We’ve never been up to Yggdrasil before--I’m not sure anybody has, so we don’t know what’s up there waiting for us…”
He has an inkling of what might be. In his mind’s eye he can see twirling and vibrant plants and vines curling over every surface, holy monsters prowling Her branches, fireflies alight in the night amidst perpetually flowing rivers. He wonders if these are Erdwin’s memories coming through to him; they don’t feel like it, but he supposes he wouldn’t know the difference.
Regardless, Erik stands his ground. He lifts his head to the sky, to the open aperture of the cathedral where Yggdrasil awaits them in the morning sun, and he makes his vow.
“But no matter what happens… I swear, I won’t let the Luminary come to harm!” When he thinks back to being told of Serenica, being told of her scion, his memory always made him think of Mia. Barely a fortnight separates hers and Gemma’s births, and of course Erik would risk life and limb for his sister. Meeting Gemma for the first time only solidified that he’d do the same for her--her, who looked at Erik with his sister’s eyes. “She’s our light and our hope, and she’ll rid our world of darkness--I know she will!”
And she won’t be alone. She never has been. Serenica had Erdwin, the love of her life, and Gemma has Erik, her brother in arms.
Vigor runs through him, in heart and body, and Erik opens his arms to the heavens, asking for this one boon. Asking for the strength to protect what mattered.
“Erdwin, sword of legend--lend me your power! Help me fulfill my duty and protect the Luminary!”
Erik believes. Of course he believes. In Yggdrasil’s grace and glory. In Erdwin’s strength and devotion. In Serenica’s honor and legacy. In Gemma’s power and resolve.
And so deeply does he believe that he didn’t notice how long he hadn’t been along.
The sabrecat ears have their benefits; Erik can hear much better than he could before, and those floppy ears twitch and straighten out against his head when he finally catches the sound of sudden breath behind him. He lowers his arms, and glances behind him and--and it’s Gemma.
Illuminated by the sunlight in the open door behind her, she takes a timid half-step forward, towards him. She doesn’t look any different than how she did this morning, before she disappeared to who knew where. There is now this giant, frankly hideous-looking great axe strapped to her back, which is new, and Erik is pretty sure he sees an eye on its hilt looking at him, but it’s not nearly as important as Gemma herself looking at him.
How long has she been looking at him.
“You--what are you doing here?!” Erik is on his feet immediately, ears and tail sticking straight up in alarm. “...w-wait. You weren’t--you didn’t hear all that, did you?”
Gemma says nothing, and that in itself says everything he needs to know. Erik throws his face into his hands, and his head back in the air in embarrassment, but it isn’t to last long. This isn’t the time to be mortified; this is the time to be a brother, and get some answers, whether this sister to his soul wants to give them or not.
“What do you think you’re up to, just waltzing in with that big ugly axe like you own the place? Where in the world have you been?” Savior or no, Gemma has a lot of explaining to do. Erik strides up to her, frustrated and crimson. “Aunt Seither was talking to us all, and you just--vanished into thin air! We were worried sick about you!”
But Gemma still doesn’t say anything. She just… looks at him. Looks at him with eyes wide and wavering, lips parted in fathomless surprise, and Erik’s ire starts to turn back into concern.
“What’s the matter? And don’t say the cat’s got your tongue.” Still nothing, and the concern is becoming more unnerving. “...Come on, stop staring at me like that, will you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! Today’s the big day, you know that. And the last thing we need is you spacing out on--”
Erik doesn’t get to say much else before Gemma flings herself at him--really just, full body, throws herself at him, arms around his neck like she hasn’t seen him in ages, like he was the ghost she’d been looking at all along. And it shellshocks him, and his arms hang in the air helplessly around her before cautiously settling on Gemma’s back. She’s shuddering, breathing quiet and deep into his shoulder and squeezing him as tight as she can. Like he’s to vanish the instant she dares let him go.
For reasons he doesn’t understand, Erik knows that this is right. He knows why Gemma is doing this, knows that she is right to do it, and even though it hurts her he doesn’t regret what he did. But exactly what he did eludes him, and he has a feeling Erdwin probably can’t enlighten him on that.
“...Gemma?” He rubs at her back like he would Mia after a nightmare--because that’s what it was that happened, Gemma woke up from a nightmare, a nightmare that he cannot place but somehow knows, and she needs to know that he’s there with her now. “Gemma.”
He doesn’t say more than that, doesn’t ask more, and even if he had, he doesn’t think Gemma would answer him. She lets out one more shaky breath, turns her head the smallest bit, and presses a kiss to his cheek.
That, of all things, is what really concerns Erik the most. The kiss was long and hard and full of relief. Not even Mia showed that much affection, unless it was a matter of life or death, and Gemma isn’t Mia, of course, but… Gemma is still Gemma. And Gemma doesn’t do that, either. Unless it’s Rini.
Before his circling thoughts confuse him any further, Erik puts his hands on Gemma’s shoulders, and pulls her off of him.
“What was all that for?”
Gemma is silent for a moment longer, still staring up at him with hopeful eyes--but then she smiles, wider and brighter like he’s never seen her smile before, like he just pulled the weight of the world off her shoulders.
“Oh… no reason.” She says, finally. “No reason at all.”
mermay sunday
yeah we’re forgoing the 6SS in favor of mermay because what’s better than ONE mermaid? it’s TWO mermaids
this was going to be a oneshot but it my deep-rooted craving for univeristy aus + the allure of the fantasy boarding school set up has turned this into. A Thing. and i don’t know where This Thing is going because I only have this and two other scenes in mind BUT that’s besides the point. this is going on ao3 eventually when this first part gets fleshed out a little more because I finished this at 2 AM this morning.
as a disclaimer i DID binge re-read a centaur’s life to get a feel for how i wanted this to be written, so there’s a lot of show don’t tell for how the races all work. there is method to my madness i swear this
~
come, all you sailors
At this point in his casual observations, Nova felt confident enough to say that this was most definitely not a crush.
A crush, in his opinion, required at least a name to go on, never mind a voice or any inkling of a personality--none of which he had at his disposal. All he had of this mysterious(?) other student was his face and a bare bones idea of his library schedule. Neither of which was bad, necessarily, because watching a guy that handsome intently studying the sky through a telescope and pouring over astronomy books was something Nova found very enchanting. It made the study nights where he knew their schedules lined up something to look forward to.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the stranger tap a pencil against his cheek (he was left-handed, Nova had noticed that ages ago) and run a hand through spiky blue hair before going back to the telescope. He looked through for a moment, before turning away to dig into the black coat hung on one side of his chair, retrieving what looked like a protractor and returning to his writing.
From his table shelves away from the observatory window, Nova pretended to push his own hair behind one finned ear--to better keep an eye on the subject at hand.
He supposed he should have felt bad, snooping on somebody like this, and he did to a point, but there was always the chance that this wasn’t his or the stranger’s fault. For all Nova knew, this sudden fascination might’ve just been some underlying effect this stranger had on others; sirens weren’t the only fae folk out there who could do that, though he wasn’t sure of any who could do it subconsciously.
It was one of his worst fears and the reason he kept his mouth shut so much, sure, but he knew it was all in his head. Mostly. But Nova figured it didn’t really matter what the guy was--it didn’t change his charm at all.
So yes, three months into this person-watch, Nova felt confident enough to say that he was… taken, with the student. Not a crush in the slightest. It felt like it could get there pretty fast though, if he closed the gap, so Nova decided to keep this admiration at a distance and to himself. If he didn’t have a name to attach to the (very roguish) face, he felt confident that the infatuation would pass.
If nothing else, it helped him pass the time waiting for his sister to respond to her texts. And speak of the devil herself, there she was.
It wasn’t often that Jade and Frysabel had time to come visit, let alone together, and Nova wasn’t about to pass up the chance to see his sister and sister-in-law if they wanted him around. He could fawn from afar any other time these days--though he could neither confirm nor deny if he took longer than usual to gather his belongings into his bag.
The stranger didn’t notice the quiet shuffle of Nova’s movements, or if he did he didn’t make a point of showing it, not even when Nova began a steady pace walking behind him. It was the quickest way to the nearest staircase down, so his path was at least justified, infatuation or no. And he would have been lying if he said he wasn’t curious about what this mystery student was even studying; astronomy, obviously, but maybe a minor in divination? Though Nova wasn’t entirely sure how that process worked, so who could--
“Ah--!” He managed one quick, subtle glance at the stranger’s textbook before Nova’s foot caught the leg of an empty chair, and he stumbled to the ground. He managed to catch himself before any real harm could be done or disturbance be made, but there had been no avoiding the stubbed toe through his sneakers, and he hissed in pain as he rested on his knees. “Ghhh…”
“Whoa, hey--are you good?”
A tentative hand fell on his shoulder, and an unfamiliar voice called out to him, and all at once, Nova forgot about the sting in his foot. And he hoped, he prayed that when he turned around, he wasn’t going to see what he thought he was going to see. But fortune is a fickle mistress, even among the fae.
The stranger had abandoned his belongings in favor of coming to the ground alongside Nova, if only to make sure he was alright. He’d only ever really seen the stranger’s face in profile before, so he was familiar in theory with the blue of his eyes, but Nova hadn’t realized just how deep that blue went. It struck him like the ocean reflecting the bright summer sky, something he normally found comfort in, but having the sea look back to him with alarm and worry like that made his stomach flip.
“I--y-yeah, I’m okay!” All Nova could do was laugh to force away the heat in his face. Beguilement aside, he did just essentially trip over his own two feet in clear sight of someone, so at least his embarrassment couldn’t have read as anything but that. “Just--forgot my land legs for a second, aha.”
The stranger didn’t say much, but gave a hum of acknowledgement as he looked him over. “No torn fins, scraped scales, nothing?”
“Nah, it wasn’t that bad a fall. Maybe a bruise, but I’ll live.” Nova tugged at the tips of one fin sheepishly. “Uh… sorry to bother you.”
“Hey, as long as you’re not hurt, right?” And the stranger smiled at him and oh, wow, did he ever have a smile. The sight of it near blinded Nova to the hand the stranger offered him when he got back on his feet. “Need a hand?”
“Oh--” Nova cleared his throat before taking the hand offered to him. The stranger was warm to the touch. “Thanks.”
It was when the mystery student had pulled him back up that Nova saw it--crumpled on the floor next to his chair lay the stranger’s coat, forgotten in a heap. Even from a distance, Nova could tell it was of exceptional quality, a black moto jacket with a dark blue fur collar; he’d seen the stranger wear it a few times, even though it seemed far too warm out for a coat so heavy looking, but the guy wore it well, so Nova wasn’t complaining. Without much thinking about it, he darted towards the coat and picked it off the ground, dusting it lightly at the collar.
“I’m sorry, I must’ve knocked it over.” He laughed again, awkwardly, before turning to hand the coat over. It wasn’t leather like he thought it had been—in fact, he couldn’t rightly name what it was made of, now that he was holding it—but there was a faint inkling of enchantment on the coat, and that was enough an indicator as to its value for Nova. “Hate for it to get stepped on, it’s a pretty nice… uh.”
Nova stopped talking as soon as he looked at the stranger again. Any sense of concern or amusement had faded from his now very pale face, and was instead replaced with overwhelming panic. Maybe even fear. All the while, he just stared unseeing at the coat in Nova’s hand, as though lost in a terror-induced trance.
“Are… you okay?” But the stranger didn’t seem to hear him, lost wherever his mind had wandered. Nova thought briefly to use his voice and pull him out of… whatever he was in, but going around hypnotizing people for every little thing was a tad worse than just irresponsible. The idea still lingered though, even as he asked again, “Is something wrong?”
“What?” Almost immediately, the stranger snapped back to earth with a shake of his head. “I mean--no… No, I’m fine. Thanks.”
He placed a hand on the coat, and waited for a second, like he was expecting Nova to snatch it away from him, and when he didn’t, the stranger pulled the coat back to him, carefully. Again, much quieter, he said, “Thank you.”
“Sure?” Well… that was odd. But then again, fae had all sorts of rules and conducts for things, and history notwithstanding no one could really expect to know all of them. The best one could hope for was to just be polite, and if Nova had really done something to offend this guy, he was pretty sure he would have known by now, if the number of men Jade had thrown to the ground for the offhand succubus comment was any indi--
Nova gasped, quietly, to himself. “Jade.”
“Jade?” The stranger repeated.
“Ah—my sister, she’s waiting for me outside, I forgot.” There was a clumsy shuffle as Nova stepped around the stranger, and headed back to the stairs with a bit more speed. But that would have been rude, just to leave this person that helped him hanging like that, and he turned back around to give the stranger a half wave goodbye. “Sorry about--all that. I’ll see you around!”
Were he not in a library, Nova would have bolted towards the stairs to get out of that mess of an interaction; he couldn’t bear to look behind him to see whatever the stranger’s reaction to that had been. He kept his head low to the ground as he bounded down the steps to prevent just that, all the while trying to will away the growing dread in his stomach.
See you around? He pinched the bridge of his nose. I’ll see you around? Ugh, of all the things to say…
~
The days after the incident passed by without much meaning. The entire interaction and Nova’s parting words to the cute guy had haunted him, as he expected, and even Jade had laughed at him a little over dinner that night because of course he had to explain to her his sudden desire to die, but aside from all that, nothing had changed. Classes came and went, he still chatted with Gemma and Faris like he always did, got calls from Mum and Grandpa--in retrospect, Nova might have thought this to be a sign of the oncoming storm, but he was so eager to block out how astronomically bad he’d messed up at just talking to a new person that little else seemed to register. He almost succeeded, for what it was worth.
And then came a knock at his door.
It wasn’t ideal for Nova to avoid the library. The place was more reliably quiet that late at night than the dorms could be, and a few of the books he needed for his studies were too old to be checked out normally. But even less ideal than that was bumping into the handsome stranger again, and by that point he wasn’t going to get any of his work done by fault of the existential shame, so he planned to stay in his dorm until the incident would be long forgotten. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that.
But the universe just couldn’t let Nova have this one pass, because when he opened the door to his dorm, the stranger was there, still wearing that fancy coat even indoors. “Oh, good, you’re actually here.”
The instinct to just close the door and pretend like this moment wasn’t happening was very difficult to fight. There were a multitude of questions as to why the moment was even happening at all, and as much as Nova knew better than to be a jerk, he felt pretty entitled to those questions. “You were looking for me?”
“That’s putting it mildly.” The stranger crossed his arms. “It’s Nova, right? Shell said I’d find you here.”
“Oh--Shell sent you?” That did put Nova at a considerable amount of ease; if the campus merfolk advisor had told the stranger where to find him, then it did make this whole encounter significantly less like a horror movie set-up; Michelle doted on him as much as Jade did, she wouldn’t put Nova in any sort of harm.
“Something like that.” The stranger seemed to agree. “You know she wouldn’t send a stalker your way.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” It did beg the question as to how the stranger knew Shell in the first place, but that was beside the point right now. “But then... did you just need me for something?”
There was very obviously something up; something in the way the stranger glanced aside and furrowed his brow raised a flag in the back of Nova’s mind, but what that flag was, he couldn’t yet say.
“So--listen.” The stranger started after a pause. “This is really weird, and I get that, and if you’re busy right now, I won’t get in your way, but… do you have a minute?”
“A… to talk?” No, Nova, to jump off a cliff, what are you even saying-- “I mean, I don’t have anything pressing to do. What’s up?”
“It… well.” The stranger paused again, and Nova clearly saw the rise and fall of his shoulders, like he was bracing himself for a hit. “I can’t—it’s about when we ran into each other.”
“Oh, no.” Nova’s fins flared out nervously. All of a sudden, his fear of a racial violation came back full force. “What did I do?”
The stranger lifted up a hand as though to try and calm him. “No, no, don’t—don’t panic, it’s not like that. You didn’t do anything bad.”
“But I did something.” It wasn’t a question.
“You…” The stranger’s hand fell to his head, fingers more pulling on his hair than combing through it. “Did… kind of? It’s not—I don’t think you meant to, but it’s still—look, I really don’t want to be talking about this out here.” He stopped to take another deep breath. “Can I come in? If that’s okay.”
There was no way for Nova to see where this was going, and he wasn’t sure if he liked any of the directions he could think of. Again, Shell would not have put him or anyone under her care in any danger, and it wasn’t like he thought the guy was actually a stalker (in this case, Nova honestly fit that bill a bit more considering), but there was a lot to be concerned about regarding a stranger asking to come in his room half-past ten.
Instinctively, Nova knew he should say no.
What he said instead was, “Yeah, sure. Come on in.” And he stepped inside for the stranger to pass through.
Why am I like this.
The stranger sighed out a “Thanks” and walked through the door, a fleeting sense of anxiousness in his steps, and Nova could only liken the sound of the door clicking shut to the sound of his own fate being sealed.
“This isn’t a vampire thing, is it?” Nova asked, distantly, anything at all to clear the air. If nothing else, it might explain the inherent attraction thing, especially coupled with the invitation. Unless the stranger was also just trying to be polite.
“Man, if I was a vampire, this wouldn’t be an issue.” The stranger managed a laugh, just as awkward as the rest of this conversation, but he still looked effortlessly cool leaning against Nova’s desk. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Not a disappointment, no.” Nova seated himself on the edge of his bed, if only to keep a respectable distance. “Just trying to figure out how you know Michelle.”
“Oh--I’ve been helping her with her walking.” The stranger explained. “Mermaid legs, you know. Not that strong. And she wants to be on her feet for her wedding.”
Nova did, in fact, know that, because Michelle was beyond excited for her wedding and was pulling out whatever stops she could, and there were few of her students that weren’t doing something to help the cause. Nova was no exception, but that was beside the point. “So she asked you to help her train? That’s a big ask for a student.”
“It is, yeah--but I knew her beforehand, too. She knew I could help, and I knew she could… well.” The stranger gestured to him. “Point me to you. And keep mum about it.”
“Uh… huh.” Nothing odd about that at all, no sir. “Why does she have to keep quiet, exactly?”
The stranger opened his mouth, and Nova could clearly see a flicker in their eyes that said he certainly had words to say, but they weren’t coming out as quickly and as easily as he had probably hoped they would. His hands dropped down to gesture to some imaginary object, and he looked at Nova dead-on, and confused as he was Nova couldn’t find it in himself to pull away.
“...so.” The stranger took one of those hands, and placed it on the breast of his jacket. “It’s about the coat.”
There wasn’t much in the way for Nova to hide his wince. Of all the things it could have been, he had a sneaking suspicion the coat was going to be the problem here. “Did I do something to the enchantment?”
The stranger looked taken aback by the question. “You can tell it’s enchanted?”
“I mean, not what it’s enchanted with,” Nova clarified, “but, yeah. I knew as soon as I touched it.”
“How did you know, though?” The stranger raised a brow.
“Forging major.” Nova shrugged. “Minor in textile sciences.”
“There’s sirens in the forging curriculum?” The stranger seemed genuinely surprised. “Huh. I thought you guys were all about the performing arts.”
“Life is in the details. And making things from scratch is still an art.” This wasn’t the time or place to get into that sore spot. “But, anyway. Did something happen to the spell when I picked up your coat? Because--look, I can’t fix that myself, but I’m happy to get whatever the components are to--”
“No, no, it’s not--not that kind of enchantment.” The stranger clarified. “It’s, uh… it’s always been a part of it.”
“Always… oh!” Nova palmed his fist. “So, it’s in part of the material? That makes sense. Is it just cosmetic damage, then? I can fix that.”
He hadn’t thought he’d said anything strange, but the stranger just looked at him with something like marvel in his eyes. “...What? What did I say?”
“You really don’t know, do you.” The comment was quiet, more to himself than to Nova, and the stranger glanced to the ground in thought. “Well… that’s good. Definitely makes this easier.”
“Makes what easier?” Far be it from Nova to lose his patience, but this roundabout game of questions was running his nerves ragged. He had an infatuation with this handsome student, he wasn’t blinded by it. “Look, I’m sorry for whatever it was I did, but if I don’t know what it was, then I can’t fix it.”
“It’s not… something you have to fix.” The stranger explained. “But you have a right to know what’s going on. Just--gimme a minute to… no. No, you know what? There’s no good way to put this. I’ll be blunt.”
Nova said nothing, merely waiting for the stranger to explain himself; after what felt like a long while, the stranger dropped his hands to the side in resignation, looking at Nova dead-on.
“I’m a selkie.”
High-strung as he was at the moment, Nova was smart. He liked his puzzles, and he didn’t mind a bit of detective work here and there. Sometimes, though, it paid to remember that often times, the simplest solution to a problem was usually the correct one, and the answer to his questions in this case didn’t get better than those three quick words.
The handsome stranger was a handsome selkie. Selkie pelts were historically coveted. The coat was enchanted. Nova had picked up his coat. The dots connected practically automatically, and all at once the blood drained from Nova’s face.
“Oh.” Nova muttered, mouth painfully dry. “Oh, no.”
“...Yeah.” The selkie bit down on his lip as he nodded. “It, uh--least now you know how I know Shell.”
“Oh, Spirit--” Nova leaned over into his knees, holding his head in his hands. “As if that last run-in wasn’t enough of a disaster, I--” He snapped back up, panic writ bold on his face. “I wasn’t trying to steal it, I swear, I would never--”
“No, no, we’ve been through that, you obviously weren’t trying to do harm.” The selkie assured. “The fact that you didn’t know you were holding a pelt the whole time sort of drives that home.”
“I’ve never held a selkie pelt before!” Nova cried in a hushed whisper. “I didn’t even know there were selkies on campus.”
“You’re not supposed to know. There’s a lot of privacy policies specifically for us so no one steals our pelts.”
The selkie raised a hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, stepped forward and placed it on Nova’s shoulder. Nova jumped from the touch, but his hand was warm, and his grip was comforting. “I get it, I do. You were doing the right thing. You didn’t do anything bad.”
Nova glanced at the hand on his shoulder, then back to the selkie. “...but then--what did I do?”
The selkie’s fingers drummed against his shoulder. “See, that’s… the part that’s making this weird.”
It was another long moment while the selkie took a seat on Nova’s bed besides him. Judging from the color starting to bloom on his cheeks, Nova suspected this was so he didn’t have to look directly at him.
“So… selkies have a long history of people stealing our skins. Everybody knows that.” When Nova nodded, the stranger continued. “And you weren’t trying to steal mine. We’re clear on that. But what you did, it… returning a selkie’s missing coat has a very specific meaning in the culture, and you know how these old fae laws are, so it’s taken… pretty literally.”
This just kept getting worse and worse, but at least there was some solace for Nova that whatever this meaning entailed, it wasn’t his imminent doom. If an old fae law was going to kill him, it would have done so already. “...what’s the meaning.”
The selkie looked at him from the corner of his eye, and Nova saw the blush that had just started spreading on his skin turn ever more red, before the selkie closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“It’s a proposal.” He groaned. “You know… the marriage kind.”
Rescind the previous solace. Nova just decided he would rather have death.
“So… wait. Did I--” He pointed to himself, then to the selkie, then back to himself, and again and again and again, each one more frantic than the last. “Are we--”
“As far as selkie law is concerned, we’re engaged.” There was a significant slump to the selkie’s shoulders as he said that. “So at least now you get why the subterfuge--but, listen!”
Before Nova could ask further, the selkie sat up, trying to force a reassuring smile. “This sort of thing isn’t totally a freak accident. It happens a lot more often than you’d think. And it’s an easy enough thing to undo! So you don’t have to panic about it.”
“That’s--a really big ask.” Defeat made his body feel astronomically heavy, but Nova forced himself to sit back up. “I just… I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”
“What are you sorry for? Of course you had no idea!” The selkie laughed a short, surprised laugh, and if circumstances were any different, it might have made Nova’s stomach flip. “The only thing you did wrong was be a decent guy. I should be apologizing to you for dragging you into all this.”
“You couldn’t have foreseen this, either!” Despite himself, Nova managed to return an exasperated smile of his own. “But if this is something that happens a lot, why bother telling me at all?”
“You answered your own question: it happens a lot.” The selkie shrugged. “It’ll get undone, sure, but there’s no telling how far back in the queue our case would be. It wouldn’t take longer than a year, but it’s still going to be a good few months before it’s annulled. And we’d need both our accounts to prove it was an accident in the first place.”
“I--” Nova blinked. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”
“Exactly.” Hands on his knees, the selkie looked up at the ceiling. “Then there’s the binding.”
“The--excuse me?”
“You know how the stories go, don’t you? A selkie who has their pelt stolen is bound to the one who holds it until they get it back.”
Nova’s eyes narrowed. “But I didn’t steal your pelt.”
“No, but this whole pact thing is done through it.” The selkie fiddled with the sleeve of his coat as he spoke. “It’s not like I’d be following you around every minute of every day, but… you’ll be seeing a lot of me in the months to come.”
He laughed again, more quietly to himself, and regarded Nova with a raised brow. “Definitely a lot more than the weekly library trips.”
“Oh--” This night was really proving to just be one heart attack after another. Maybe, if the universe wanted to be nice, it would let Nova get away with this one little vague mislead. “You noticed?”
“We’re always sitting in the same spots. Same times, too.” The selkie gestured. “It felt like we had a thing going. Always thought it was kind of nice.”
Of all the boons the universe could give him, it had to be that one, huh.
“Anyway.” The selkie sobered up, and continued. “I needed to tell you all this, but you hadn’t been around the library in a while, and I started to get antsy. And that’s why we’re here now. The weirdness of this is all on me.” His expression fell serious. “I’m not going to push you into anything--you can ignore me, if you’d rather not think about this. I’ll keep out of your hair as best I can, if you need space.”
“No! No, that’s not--don’t do that.” Nova hadn’t meant to sound so desperate when he said that, and he wasn’t sure if he succeeded. “It’s not like I blame you for all this. That’d be insane. And I can’t just let you deal with all this on your own. I need to take responsibility.”
That last part had sounded fine in his head, but after actually saying the words themselves, Nova threw his head back with a groan. “‘Take response’... could I have possibly picked a worse phrase.”
“Probably.” There was that quiet little chuckle again, and all of a sudden Nova felt better about his anxiety-ridden vocabulary. “Good to know you plan to take care of me~”
“Shut uuup.” The words came out with a shaky laugh as Nova ran a hand through his hair. “Whatever happened to ‘in sickness and health’?”
“We’re still riding this out together, aren’t we? I’m glad for that.”
There was a considerable amount of relief in the selkie’s voice, and when Nova looked back to him, that relief was in equal measure in his eyes. “I mean it. You kind of learn to expect the worst when it comes to your skin, so… I’m glad you’re a good guy, is all I’m saying. I think we can get through this in one piece.”
Nova wasn’t one to fawn over any bit of praise that came his way, cute guy at the source or now, but it was hard not to get a little flustered after… well. Everything. “...I could always turn out to be a jerk, y’know.”
The selkie shook his head. “Shell wouldn’t like you so much if you were.”
“That--yeah, I’ll give you that,”
Seemingly satisfied, the selkie held out his hand.
“The name’s Erik, by the way.”
The suddenness must have surprised Nova more than he realized, because it garnered another chuckle at his expense. “What?”
“Well, I just realized--I knew who you were this whole time, but you didn’t have my name.” The selkie--Erik--flashed his canines. “Not exactly proper if you don’t know your fiance’s name, right?”
Nova sputtered at how casually he’d joked about that, and Erik kept laughing at him, but soon enough the sheer ridiculousness of the situation began to dawn, and Nova managed a few quick laughs of his own before taking Erik’s hand in a firm shake.
“Nice to meet my future husband.” He joked back, and suddenly, the problem at hand felt a lifetime away.
In the moonlight, relief? Happy kiss day!
HELLO i meant to write these prompts all on saturday but then i played okami for 48 hours straight. i’m not a clever bear
also this should go without saying but. if i see anybody tagging this as ship i’m going to milk your spinal fluid
~
In the cover of night and rain, Jade drags herself out of the river, cradling a star against her.
The lights of Heliodor’s soldiers are far from them now. If she knows Hendrik as well as she thinks she does--and she does--she knows he at least will come for them eventually. But it’s dark and cold and the storm rages on, and Hendrik isn’t such a fool that he’ll risk his men climbing down a ravine. The search, for the moment, will come to an end.
Jade can’t allow herself to rest, though. Rab, she knows, will be fine. He’s more than enough to take care of the group they’d called out. They’re all safe in his hands. But there’s something more important in her hands now, something that she can’t say was ever best left in her care--but just as before, she’ll try and keep that light safe.
She’s done this before. They both have. Nova sleeps in much the same way he did as a baby, oblivious to the world despite the danger. He’s so much bigger now, and he looks so much like Lady Eleanor it breaks Jade’s heart that he’ll never get to know how true that is. But he’s still a little miracle through and through, from how he burns like the summer sun in Jade’s arms, how his wet hair slips through her fingers as she brushes it out of his face, and how he breathes slow and calm against her skin.
Moonlight filters through the cloudy sky, and shines on Nova’s face. All of a sudden, it’s sixteen years in the past, and Jade is ten years old again with a basket in her arms, running, running, running as fast as she can. Her brother needed her, then, more than anything. And her brother needs her right now.
Jade knows that he’s only her brother in her own mind. That’s how it always had been, how she always had been: a lonely little princess whose friends lived and traveled near and far from her, who never seemed to stay long, a girl that yearned for stability and the want to be wanted by someone other than her father. She loves her father, of course she does, and she loves Hendrik and Jasper--and she loves Nova just the same.
So dearly she loves him that even if he rejects her--rejects his grandfather, rejects Lady Eleanor and Lord Irwin and all of Dundrasil and how could he not do just that what right do they have to him now--it won’t matter in the slightest. Because Nova is alive, and the relief of that fact alone is enough.
She has to find a safe place for him, warm and dry. There’s an abandoned old cabin not far from the town, she remembers, far enough away that Hendrik won’t think to follow the river there. It will be difficult carrying Nova there on her own (he’s so much taller than her now, the audacity), but Jade has carried him before, and she is no longer a child. She can do this now. She will not fail now.
Jade pulls Nova to his feet, and slings his arm across her shoulders; his head slumps against her shoulders, and he doesn’t so much as stir, and despite the terror and adrenaline coursing through her veins, she can’t help but smile a bit. Just like the baby in her memories.
Jade presses her lips to his forehead. More for her own solace than anything, but it was something she saw Lady Eleanor do countless times when he was a newborn. If he dreams restlessly now, perhaps the vague memory of a mother will calm him.
Nova can’t hear her, of course he can’t, but she whispers into his hair a promise, a solemn vow, a sisterly oath whether he ever thinks her a sister or not: “I’ll never let you go again.”
six sentence sunday
hey remember when i wrote things and posted them and had interactions like a normal human being. good times.
Oceans and mountains and kingdoms had separated them, and the only thing that had brought them together was confinement. In a thousand other lifetimes--if Erik hadn’t found that necklace, if Dundrasil hadn’t fallen, if Mia had never wanted the Orb, if Yggdrasil had never needed Nova to be Her chosen--their paths would have never crossed. And despite all odds, despite golden curses and razed homelands, they did. Grand destiny or no, for Erik to be here now, like this, alone with Nova, was luck beyond his comprehension.
“...Erik?”
Nova was looking up at him where he sat, waiting for Erik to return. Like he always was. Erik’s heart flooded with reverence.
“Thank you.”
Nova looked taken aback, startled, confused.
“Wha—where’s this coming from? What for?”
“For caring about me. And waiting for me all this time. Not just for this, but. Y’know. Everything.”
Erik drew his hand forward, placing it on Nova’s chest. Nova flinched the faintest bit, but he stayed still and pressed his own hand against Erik’s, forcing his palm flat. Even if the wound had never marred his flesh, even if the hand that had hurt him so was now an echo of an elusive age, Nova’s heart still bore the scar. Erik’s touch wasn’t magic--he couldn’t heal that scar in a single night. But he was going to heal it one day. Bit by bit. Touch by touch. Word by word.
“You’re still finding ways to make a home for me, partner.”
"I need you to stay here, okay? I got this." For luminerik please?
i have been looking for an excuse to start writing for this particular flavor of erik and daresay this is that excuse
(Act 2 Spoilers, pre-Sniflheim)
In a lot of ways, it feels like everything has been leading up to this. It’s not the end, of course, and Nova knows that, but being able to stare down Alizarin with lightning in his hand is empowering. Exhilarating, even, with how ready he is to deliver some comeuppance. But he isn’t going to lose himself, no matter how many times Nautica under siege plays back in his mind. If Nova lets himself get thrown overboard again, he’s never going to be able to help the merfolk. If he lets the third time be the charm and dies to Alizarin here, he isn’t going to be able to save anybody.
Least of all Erik.
Hendrik is able to guard the way for Nova to get Jade and Erik to the cabin door–Jade is still recovering from Octagonia, and Erik barely knows how to hold his knife right now, let alone fight one of Mordegon’s finest. It’ll be worrisome, not having them in his sights, but it’s safest for them to stay out of this fight.
Nova isn’t having anymore casualties if he can help it. “Will you be alright?”
Jade is more composed, as she so often is, so he directs the question to her. Confident as always, she offers him a smile. “I think we’ll manage.”
Leave it to his sister to ease his worries. Nova smiles back. “We’ll be done before you know it.”
“I should hope so.” Jade beats him on the shoulder with the back of her hand. “It’s your turn to help me with dinner tonight.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Nova turns to Erik, who’s looking at him with such impossibly blue and wide and terrified eyes, and it breaks Nova’s heart but he has to hold it together. For now. For Erik.
“I know, it’s–there’s a lot happening. But you’ll be safe inside with Jade. I promise.”
Erik starts to say something, and Nova has to pretend he doesn’t see it and turns away. He isn’t going to lose himself now. Not to Alizarin. Not to heartache. “I’ll be back soon.”
He hefts his sword in his hand, and prepares to charge back into battle, but a hand clamps around his wrist and pulls him back.
Nova knows that hand. He knows its touch, its strength, its warmth, and he wonders if maybe Erik remembers Nova in the same way, if that’s what made him reach out. “Erik?”
“I–Nova, you can’t go out like this!” His voice is so unlike him, so unlike the Erik that he knows, but his name on Erik’s tongue sends Nova reeling all the same. “What if he knocks you over again? You’ll be killed for sure!”
Two weeks prior, Nova might have welcomed that. Two weeks prior, he might have wondered why that first fall overboard didn’t kill him then and there, might have wondered what right he had to live after how badly he’d ruined the world he was born to protect. But two weeks prior, Nova didn’t know he was in love with Erik, and now he knew he couldn’t die until he saw Erik smile one more time.
“I won’t die. Not that easily.” Nova speaks with conviction. Love of many kinds gave him strength, and this was no exception. “But I need you to stay here, okay? I got this.”
Nova smiles, and raises a fist to Erik. “Trust me.”
Amidst the storm and swells in the ocean, Erik stares at his fist like he’s on the verge of something. It takes him a minute, and Nova can see the way his hand shakes in turn, but Erik raises a fist of his own, and knocks it against Nova’s hand.
Gently. Timidly. But surely. “Okay.”
Nova nods once, of understanding, of relief, and Erik turns tail himself, back into the cabin where Jade waits by the door. Once he’s disappeared inside, Jade looks to Nova with a knowing smile, and flashes him a two-fingered salute, before closing and barring the door.
Despite everything, Nova can’t stop smiling.
In a lot of ways, it feels like everything had been leading up to that. It won’t be the end, of course, and Nova knows that, but knowing that Erik still believes in him even if he doesn’t know him is empowering. Exhilarating, even, with how badly his own feelings have been running him ragged. He isn’t going to lose himself, not now–but Nova does press a kiss to his fist for luck, where Erik’s had touched just seconds ago, and with lightning in hand and love in his veins, Nova runs back into the fray.
six sentence sunday
i didn’t write the ladies kissing that i wanted to so instead it’s time to make my boy sad
~
“There’s nothing... wrong with you. Not at all. You’re just—” Sylvando stopped himself, wondering if he should say it aloud, but there was no choice for it now. Nova needed an answer. “You’re in love.”
As he feared, Nova tensed in his arms. It took him a moment to work up the will to move, but the boy raised his hands at last, resting them on Sylvando’s arms, an anchor to pull himself back. He looked so scared, so lost, and Sylvando could see himself so clearly in Nova that it shattered his heart.
“...I am?” He asked, just a hair's breadth above a whisper—but he didn’t wait for an answer, nor could Sylvando give him one. It was something Nova had to determine for himself, whether this was love or loneliness. He lowered his gaze to the deck, and his left hand came to rest over his heart. Sylvando swore he saw the mark on his hand flicker.
Nova exhaled, deeply, and nodded to himself. “...I am.”
Then he laughed—quietly, ruefully, like the realization was a cruel, ironic feeling of bliss. Which, Sylvando supposed… it was.
“...Cor.” Nova let out a shaky sigh through an even shakier smile, and ran his hand through his hair. “You know… I always thought, when that happened—I thought I’d feel good about it. Or at least… allowed to.”
“Nova—”
“No. No, it—it’s fine this way, isn’t it?” He laughed, voice wet. “I mean—better I square that one away while he’s still… here. Right? Even if he’s not, really. I...”
His laughter, still soft, turned manic, gradually turning into choked-back sobs.
“He didn’t… he never told me where he was from. He could have a whole family out there, looking for him right now, and I can’t—I can’t help him at all, and… what if he has to start all over? What if he never remembers?”
Nova scrubbed at his eyes with the palm of his trembling hand, to little avail. “What if he… what if he forgets about me forever?”
