transtistic
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Black bells, red candles, onyx statues, and red-robed superiors would be a tad strange were they not the only things that The Last had ever known. They were raised here after all. Well, that is if you consider being banned from touching a dependent past the tender age of three and half as raising a child at all.
Saved for the once thought forgotten God of death, the youngest and last of the consecrated lambs, struggles to obey the temples strict rules and understand the true meaning of their timed existence, featuring daydreams about horn sparring, the occasional fresh berries, and a very fluffy Subprior Forneus.
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Everyone keeps telling Karkat not to beat himself up. It wasn't his fault. How could it have been? He couldn't have done anything to stop what happened. But no one else listens when he assures them he very much played a hand in the situation and when pushed to action declined not to use, percisely that hand out of fear and guilt. That he could have stopped it all. That there were multiple fucking opportunities to do so. But no one listens because no one knows because he doesn't want to tell. No one listens.. until someone finally does.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,459
- Chapters:
- 1/?
- Kudos:
- 6
- Hits:
- 188
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Sollux Captor knows he's going to be a beta, and that prediction may just be right, but how could he possibly have been expected to have predicted literally anything else from this point on. It's senior year and someone just missed school for a couple days straight. He might not have to worry about his presentation.. everyone else's though? Well, Thats a different story altogether. And the troll just might have a few surprises of his own.