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sunday morning (as my end draws near.)

Summary:

Euterpe finds himself being held at gunpoint by a god, but has the plot armor at the ready.
(oh also more euterpe tristan fluff bc i love them??? so much???)

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Euterpe stood in front of a quite familiar figure, a boastful entity, one who seemed very attached to the Tree that apparently connected the world and beyond.

 

He would call bullshit if Tristan had not explained what the Citrus Tree was, or if Simon had not had a fairly stern look on.

 

"...Your name was Laverne, wasn't it?"

 

"Oh!" The entity whipped their head around, those set of cartoonish eyes met his. "Greetings, Protagonist."

 

"I must kindly enquire why you speak of me that way." Euterpe does a mock bow, to which Laverne bursts out laughing.

 

The laughter died down. "Well, no need to compete in terms of poshness, because I obviously am better."

 

"We'll see 'bout that." Euterpe narrows his eyes. "Why am I here, though?"

 

"I meet whomever I please, Protagonist." Laverne smiles, cartoon sparkles shining lightly in the air around them. "But I don't invite people for serious matters, I delegate it to my right-hand-man." They lean close, causing Euterpe to pull back slightly. "I simply want to get to know you. Tristan is just infatuated with you. Surely you must be very kind and special to be that close to him, hm?"

 

Euterpe only laughs, hands fiddling with the ring that curled around his ring finger. "I wouldn't assume that." his expression darkens. "But, you do have a motive for being here, in my dreams, don't you?"

 

"I knew I didn't throw in those smart points for nothing!" The god's face morphs from the two rectangles for eyes to a set of realistic navy blue ones. "Let's cut the bullshit, shall we?" 

 

Euterpe watched as Laverne swung their body around. "See, I know you have messed up the entire script, you have caused me many problems, X10-III. Making me rewrite it over and over because you decided to be quirky and run away from your beloved siblings." Their eyes bore into his own, seeming to search into the depth of his soul. "I already gave you the Plot Authority to alleviate the symptoms, yet somehow you are making it worse." They paused. "What are you trying to achieve?"

 

Euterpe growled. "Trying to keep everyone I like away from harm?" 

 

Laverne cackles. "WHY-AHAH! Funny joke, Protagonist, I didn't program you this way. Weren't you supposed to be…a coward?" Laverne snaps their fingers, binds of code immediately chaining him to the ground. "Nevermind that, seems like I have delayed this far too long. Let's debug your code, shall we? There have been too … many … malfunctions…"

 

A hand plunges into his chest, pain blasting through his senses. If he screamed from the blow, he didn't hear it.

 

Something akin to a cube pushes in, the feeling as if someone stuffed a whole thornbush into his lungs and heart, it hurt, it hurt so MUCH-

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

[Code Input Denied.]

[ERROR CODE:0]

[You knew this was fucking coming, Laverne.]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

"...What?" Laverne stares in disbelief. "I have never-"

 

The god's voice was swiftly cut off with a knee to the jaw.

 

Laverne groans in pain, their expression twisted with pain and joy. "Heh…I knew it." The god pulls themself together. "Tristan you asshole… keeping your prey all to yourself. What is the point of keeping such a fleeting piece of 0s and 1s anyways…"

 

Euterpe staggers in place. "Get out of here, I don't want to be involved in your destructive play."

 

"Fine." Laverne spat. "But I should've considered tearing his soul from yours before I fixed you, would've made my job very, very much easier." They waved their hand as they turned away. "Next time, Protagonist."

 

The dream dissipates, as the stench of orange and lemon left his senses, plunging him back into the equally-suffocating sea that is reality.

 

Euterpe shot up in bed, his hands finding their way to his neck and all of his torso, sighing in relief when he didn't feel any holes or sticky blood on his fingers.

 

The early morning sunlight dapples his own room,

 

Warm hands grab at his arm, weakly pulling down at him. Euterpe yanks away in alarm, before recognizing the other under the cocoon of bedsheets.

 

He should really tell Tristan to wear thicker clothes to bed, the guy always seemed to be freezing in the climate the Core Cities was in whenever it was winter or spring, and although he appreciated it when he decides to sleep over at his for the night whenever he worked late at his desk, being constantly hugged and squeezed in middle of the night gave him back cramps.

 

"Mhf…?" Tristan yawns. "Why'r you 'wake, 'terpe?"

 

"Is fine, Tristan, I just went for a cup of water." Euterpe pats the fluffy auburn-blonde mass of hair that sprawled out next to him. "Go back to sleep, nothing's wrong."

 

A pause. " Y'sure?"

 

"I'm sure." Euterpe sinks back into the mattress. "I promise on it."

 

"Pinkie prom'se?"

 

"Kind of childish, but sure." Tristan sleepily grins, crimson eyes glowing faintly in the morning light that filtered through the opaque curtains.

 

"Now go b'ck to sneep." Tristan burrows back into the weighted blankets. "It's Sunday morning, you don't have office hours right now anyways."

 

"Fine fine."Rolling his eyes and crawling a little closer to Tristan, Euterpe clearly knew this was a jab at him working until 4 in the morning last night, damn it, Tristan! You sleep at 4 a.m. on AVERAGE, you hypocritical fuck!

 

Tristan stifles a laugh under the sheets.

 

Euterpe has to admit, it did feel nice to be sleeping in with someone you married for "tax reasons", on such a nice morning and when you have finished all your work for the week and now you get to laze around. 

 

The only downside would be now that he is entangled in his and Tristan's limbs and can't tear himself out to finish the last few calculations for the concoction Rae asked for, nor can he distract himself from the dream earlier.

 

Well, he could, because he still gets really red in the face whenever he is subjected to being cuddled by his (by tax reduction, law and the remnants of whatever giddy human emotion he was feeling almost always–) husband. But then, he knew being visited by the Law themself meant trouble.

 

Tristan was not joking when he told me he tore out a "teeny tiny bit" of his soul to protect him during the Isonation thing and the fight with Clarissa…

 

Euterpe looks at the currently sleeping Tristan, soft snores escaping from the sleeping figure.

 

Maybe that's why he seemed a little…fatigued lately. Euterpe barely dodged a light shove at one of his legs. And could it possibly explain why the chest pain seemed to have faded out for a while?

 

I-I will have to look into this later. I hope Rae cooked something for Suni earlier…

 

For now, Euterpe slips back into a dreamless sleep.

 

 

 

Notes:

yes they married for TAX REASONS (it's just so laverne wont get suspicious about the nature of their relationship)

mnemosyne is not the made lovechild it just so happens they fit the role like <3333

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