Valgaav remembers being drawn to Gaav’s chest for the first time.
“Don’t do that. I don’t want it, that … . stuff, anymore. I don’t want it.”
Sure I do.
I want to bathe in it. I want to get it in my pores, that sequence of proteins that birthed a new creation, that birthed me, that made me part of you, that very thing I claim to despise. that’s the worst part: I love it, and you, and I always, always will.
He remembers being the last of his kind, held to the chest of a pariah demon, and he didn’t push away. He basked. He basked in being the smaller one, ‘wouldn’t be so bad,” he said.
Resting his chin on ]the Chaos Dragon’s shoulder, and angling his cheek against his neck. His eyes close; this was the sweet surrender he really sought all along.
Gone, now: but he will dedicate his life to the sacrament of revenge.
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Hey, @fujioshi-aruru! I’m your Secret Santa this year!!!! Because art history is my thing, and because Classical art and Greek mythology friggen’ slaps, I decided to quote a pose and composition from a Victory (Nike) standing on the body of a defeated foe. Only this is the inversion of victory, defeat, as Valgaav’s (pictured here as Val) savior has been murdered by Lina Inverse, and he’s out for vengeance. Paired it with a little angsty internal monologue from Valgaav’s POV, since you wanted both fanfic and fanart! And yes, I picked the “break y heart” prompt...sorry XD;;;;
Hope you like it! Ink, graphite, metallic markers, and salted India Ink.