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Infatuation, obsession more like it.
Whatever Nerissa had done to her had to have been a part of her powers, whatever moved all those people to insanity thousands of years ago had to have struck her over the head as well.
Clearly, she knows she is lying to herself. Being the archiver comes with its perks, and being immune to her group's own powers was one of those. But the real reason her eyes drifted towards her demonic groupmate is one she’d rather not name, in fear of making things more absolute than they already are.
She has spent so much of her life already on the run. On the run from the gods, on the run from herself, on the run from any mortal connections she made. While the first one was going smoothly so far, with her and Advent not being troubled by the gods since their escape from the cells, the other two she was failing spectacularly at.
Being with Advent had done irreversible damage to the everpresent grasp the archiver had on her, and everyday Shiori Novella got her spotlight more and more. Allowing herself to finally, finally , connect with other beings. Her natural instincts to observe still shone through, mapping all her new friends' particularities to mind lest they fall away to time.
Her observations?
Nerissa Ravencroft was interesting, intriguing. alluring.
It was maddening how no matter how hard she tried, how much she hid away to the archives the moment those thoughts wrapped around her head, she simply couldn't stop herself from constantly thinking about the other woman. It’s like her very own body decided to betray her, establishing an entire portion of her central nervous system (ᴏʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ᴏꜰ ɪᴛ ᴀɴʏᴡᴀʏ…) to be completely and utterly dedicated towards her.
To the fact she could hear even the slightest change in her voice, locate any insecurity before the demon could bring it to light herself, her eyes automatically drifting to her anytime she came into view. It made her feel utterly foolish, wretched even, her frustrations coming out like black smoke whenever she was left completely alone for a bit to stew in her emotions.
It felt sinful to care, felt like she was deceiving her own nature for daring to care to this degree for anyone at all.
ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ꜱʜᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴍᴜᴄʜ….ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴍᴏʀᴇ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴀɪʟᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ.
ʏᴏᴜ’ʟʟ ꜰᴀɪʟ ʜᴇʀ ᴛᴏᴏ.
Attentiveness however, is a word only associated with Shiori Novella.
The archiver, they have larger views to worry about. And to the archiver, the story of Nerissa Ravencroft was a treat. For a being that serves as the narrative, a materialization of the everlasting hunt for knowledge, the woman was a delightful meal.
A powerful demon bound to exclusivity, chained in a cell for nine thousand years, impaired in a way they knew how to fix if their human side wasn’t so concerned for the gods.
So much to her story, so much of her background to sink her teeth into, that the archiver desires to devour. The rest of her being forbids her from doing anything of the sorts.
ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴀᴛ ᴀ ᴛʜᴏᴜꜱᴀɴᴅ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴏʟᴅ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴄɪᴠɪʟɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴅɴᴇꜱꜱ.
ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇɴ’ᴛ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʙɪᴛ ᴄᴜʀɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ꜱʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴅᴏ, ᴡʜᴀᴛ ꜱʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴍᴇᴀɴ. ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴘᴀᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄ ɢᴏᴅʟʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ, ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.
ʜᴏᴡ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ ʟᴀꜱᴛꜱ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ ɢᴇᴛ ᴅᴀᴍᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀʏ?
ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴄᴀʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀꜱᴋ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ?
̵̨̢̖̲̮̖̣͋̐̍̋̍̕͜C̶̖̑͆̓̄̊̀o̶̹̙̞̪̟̫͊͑͆̒̍́̏̕͜͜ẇ̸̫͎͍͔̟́̒́́͜͠a̸̗̜̞̪̙̥̟̾̔̀̈̀̒̆̓͜r̶̛̲̫͙͖͎̈͆̆͂̈́̇͋̍͛ḍ̷̡̯̣̪͖͗͝.̴͉̜̭̘̺͓̭͔̜̫̿̊̀͝͝
Slowly, she can feel her affections start to warp. A possessiveness enters, a certain craving to push the raven for answers. To hear, to know, to understand.
ɪꜰ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ꜱʜᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ, ᴏʀ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴄʜɪᴠᴇʀ ᴡᴀɴᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ. ꜱʜᴇ ɪꜱɴ’ᴛ ꜱᴜʀᴇ.
It makes her nervous, makes her feel sick to her stomach. The part of her that only pushes to archive had slowly lost its grip when she finally allowed herself the desire to be part of the narrative instead of just the observer. She thought it got pushed to the back of her being when they escaped the cell, their instinctual desire to protect its host by any means was a survival tactic back then and lost use when life was relatively peaceful now.
It makes her reconsider everything she does around Nerissa to a critical amount, makes her second guess every action and movement she makes. Fighting her inner monologue all the time, debating if she pulls away again for the woman's safety or allows her selfish desires to boil over.
Because part of her desires the demon, revels in the feeling of bantering with someone so naturally, breathes a sigh of relief when the other woman cares for her as a person as if it’s instinctual to her to do so.
Nothing feels forced, she feels appreciated.
It’s dangerous.
She’s dangerous.
Change comes slow, but not without warning. Gradually, she limits her time spent with Nerissa alone. Banters get infrequent, physical contact gets lowered, eventually she catches herself almost running out of rooms when the other woman as much as enters them.
She simply can’t allow herself this luxury, can’t allow herself to push her being into the raven, no matter how much she wants this.
She can’t, she won’t risk the archiver getting a taste. Unwilling to risk the gluttony of a beast that tasted flesh after starvation.
When alone, she wonders if her affection for the raven has always belonged to the archiver instead of her.
How much of a grasp did her nature as archiver still have on her human psyche, and how can she even determine where it starts and ends. Was whatever love she feels for Nerissa truly from her, really a creation from her own mind, and not just a way for the other side of her to push her close to her prey.
Naturally, her past sins catch up to her. Even the most evasive can’t keep running forever, and lost in mistakes she made another one by allowing herself a chance to breathe.
The first bell of her impending doom is the sounds of crystals entering her room, the purple glow that before this moment only announced the coming of one she cares about now filling her with apprehension.
It’s no wonder, Nerissa loves so openly and freely. Her heart always worn on her sleeve, adorned like the precious jewelry her associated bird is so keen towards. The demon commanding adoration and loyalty is no wonder with traits such as those, magical voice not required.
“Shiori? can we talk” Koseki bijou, the gem of emotions.
one of their group of misfits, deemed to obscurity just as the rest of them for powers that bear consequences she was unaware of before her imprisonment.
Focus. ꜰᴏᴄᴜꜱ. F̵̮͊̆̆́͋ͅo̶̭̱̬͚̻̝͌ͅc̷̢̧͍̤̒̈́́̀̀̀̑̃̉͘ú̶̱͔̓͌̾͗̈͂s̸̢͚̩̦̹̳͊̈́̀̋̆́̇͒͘
This shouldn’t be a struggle, shouldn’t be so hard. She finds that even when she turns to Bijou with her trademark smirk slapped on her face, the emotion refuses to properly transfer through her muscles. Weakness, these childish connections have poked holes in her that weren’t there before.
She survived the cell, and it still managed to leave her with exploitable weak points.
Her internal panic worsens when she notices Bijou’s eyes noticeably widen when they make eye contact, that isn’t supposed to happen.
Bijou had explained a long time ago that Shiori is the one being she wasn’t able to properly read the emotions of, visualising it as a black smog that hung around her at all times.
They had explained it away at the time with her being an archiver, or the forbidden knowledge malfunctioning the parts of Bijou’s powers that allowed her to read emotions.
If she is noticing something now, something is wrong. Are her powers failing her, is she letting herself be too human, did all this care leave her vulnerable and let holes slip in her defenses?
S̸̛͇͈̮̱̖̮̰͍̗̋̂͌͝t̸̪͎̗̮̍͗͂͜͠u̸̼͎̫̘̓͐͂͂̾̈́̐ͅl̵̠̋̋̈́̾̓͐̕͝͠ţ̴̛̩̠̯̖͕̳̰͂́͋̉́́̾̂̓ư̸͚̲͗̀̆̋̕͝s̶̢͖̹̩̩̥̬̱̩̹̅͐̌͝͝͝
slot away, figure out later. Deal with the current situation.
"Yeah? What’s up Beebs?” Keep the grin in place, don’t falter, don’t slip.
Even with all this power at her possession, she still feels like a cornered prey animal.
The urge to run comes up again, to leave what she created her and flee the consequences. That dreadfully human sentimental part of her would never allow it.
“What’s going on with you and Nerissa?” she can subconsciously feel her smirk tighten up, Bijou’s eyes look onto the movement like a bird of prey. Fuck
“No idea what you mean beebs, just been busy that’s all” the book she was busying herself with before the intrusion into her bedroom, some documentation of Greek mythology. The name Prometheus stares back at her like a sign from an angry god, she forced down the spitefull giggle at her own mental comparison.
“Come on Shiori! That’s nonsense and you know it! You’re my friend, but so is Nerissa and i can feel the despair wave of her nowadays.”
The visual of Nerissa being in so much distress instinctively makes her tense her hands, the slight tearing of paper moves through her ears before the sound of crystals coming closer drown it all out.
“I thought maybe you had a fight or something, but Nerissa says she doesn’t know either. So what’s going on!” The feeling of what she assumes is regret makes her close her eyes, tense them, all of this because she can’t trust that parasite in her brain to behave.
A slight tug on her jacket makes her open her eyes, the pitiful look she sees bijou give her from the corner of her eye makes one part of her want to audibly sob.
“We’re advent…right? Advent together strong?”
the following silence drowns out her thoughts, it’s too much like back then. all those other times. all those other mistakes she made.
“ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛɪᴄᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ? ᴡᴇ'ʟʟ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ!”
“No beebs, i can’t”
The gem looks at her like a kicked puppy, she has to force her eyesight away before she falters.
“I can’t tell you this. Not yet, maybe not ever”
She refuses to look, but she can imagine the completely dejected look Bijou gives her. The girl apparently decides to give up after that, or maybe Shiori managed to upset her so much she scared her off as well. She can process the sound of crystals moving away, before the resounding thud of an oak door closes.
Deserved, probably. Who knows when the archiver wishes her to be the next piece that they get to sink their jaws in, mangle beyond recognition for their own sick greed.
The drawing of Prometheus getting his liver stolen by the eagle in her book taunts her, she scoffs before slamming it shut harsher than she should. Maybe she should reconsider reading this for the time being.
the book is still on her desk by the time sleep overtakes her.
The second death bell she gets comes in the not quite as peaceful barging into her room of two demon dogs, any attempt she was going to make at her easy going attitude got halted the second she made eye contact with the twins.
Angry, definitely, if the pinned back ears and pulled together eyebrows were telling her anything. Actually, scratch that, they were furious.
“Shiori” it was barked more than said, with some sweat down her back she noticed her body instinctively move to put herself in a more defensive position.
Archiver
“What is going on with you and Nerissa hoeh???? you keep running away the second she comes near you, did something happen between you two, did she-” a thud on her head made her stop the last part of her sentence, Fuwawa immediately sneering something at her in demonic.
She internally kicks herself a bit for not looking into the demonic language enough to understand them, poor form on her part when 3 out of 5 Advent members are demons. Whatever Fuwawa told her seems to make Mococo apologetic though, so she assumes she was about to spill a secret she shouldn’t have. What about, she can’t decipher just yet, Fuwawa looking back at her before she can get to lost in her own mind again.
“I know, i pester her and refer to her as stinky bird all the time. but” Fuwawa’s eyes level with her, the intense look hidden in those pink eyes manage to actively lock her into her place. It’s an emotion she hasn’t seen on the demon dog ever before, not even during their escape.
“You really hurt her Shiori”
Something defensive in her flares up on the spot, she has no clue where it’s coming from, but Mococo speaks before she can properly open her mouth to even defend herself.
“And we know you’re aware of it Shiori, you’re too smart not to. Fuwamoco just…”
Mococo flicks her ears, saddened eyes drifting towards Fuwawa again.
“We just don’t understand why you’d do that…baubau..”
ah.
Her eyes drift to the book again, still the Greek mythologies she told herself she should put away.
The imagery of Icarus greets her.
Too close to the sun
“It’s nothing Nerissa did, nothing is wrong between us. I told Beebs the same” that grants her a rather agitated ear flick from both girls, bad move.
“Beebs told us what you said to her, that’s why we broke in here.” Mococo dares come closer to her, she restrains herself from flinching.
“She knows you were lying to her Shiori, so do we. We’re not mad, ok maybe a bit for Nerissa’s sake, but you’re a friend and we love you so.” ears pinned to her head, Shiori can’t shake the image of Mococo looking like a drenched golden retriever puppy. She clenches and unclenches her hands, worries her bottom lip between her canines.
Maybe it would be ok this time, maybe, maybe.
In her mental absence the twins had taken to approaching her and taking both of her hands into theirs, she must have subconsciously dug her nails into her palms again.
“Shiori. Please”
The shimmer of a girl with blond hair passes for her retinas, smiling before obliterated by golden light. A bookmark is all that’s left.
“We care for you, please just tell us so we can help”
An automaton woman passes her vision next, her graceful movements parade before her eyes before suddenly ceasing. Left in a defunct state in a hidden location of a castle of someone she once trusted, only seen reactivated again to be one of their captors.
“I can’t”
The anxiety crashes into her at speeds she never felt, whatever nerves she still has working overtime to desperately reach their activation potential and send their signals of danger and harm towards her overworked amygdala. Mashing teeth and pointing fingers shoot by her mental headspace, any touch making her feel like the gods are yanking at the chains of the destructive beast she is.
ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴜꜱ
She can’t process whatever transpires next, except for fuwamoco leaving the room while giving her guilty glances and the harsh panting she can feel her barely qualifying as living lungs give out.
The book still mocks her, she leaves it open there as a warning to herself.
The raven is often seen as a symbolism of bad omens, bringing doomed futures with them. Shiori always thought that the symbolism was rather dark for a creature that was nothing if not kind and intelligent, but the moment Nerissa Ravencroft cages her in her own room does she finally agree with their moniker as bringers of poor fates.
Nerissa’s eyes reveal nothing of ill will, clearly if she decided to approach Shiori head on it means she determined her fate was to be brought to the afterlife.
“Nerissa”
pupils narrow more than they already have.
“Don’t call me that”
It’s impressive how a voice that brought her so much comfort not that long ago, now only manages to invoke terror into her. In the recesses of her mind, she can feel the archiver lick its teeth at having its dinner delivered on a golden platter.
“That is your name isn’t it” Nerissa approaches her, just like Bijou and Fuwamoco did, but her approach is filled with more determination than the other girls.
The feeling of being a cornered animal rises again, she hears the beast cackle.
“That’s not the name you call me, you haven’t called me that since we got out of the cells Shiori” Her wings are spread out now as well, that beautiful shimmer from her horns traces patterns over the skin of her face.
The blue combined with the rage and grief in her eyes make her look like a magnificent piece of art, the fact she had to stoop this low for a vision as this makes her feel a pit in her stomach. She had hurt her, she knew this.
The lament for Icarus passes through her mind, she can’t determine if she or Nerissa fit the role of Icarus more.
“I can hurt you”
that seems to take Nerissa aback, shock now painting clearly over her features together with that blue aura. Paused in her plans, Shiori can see her formulate how to proceed.
She can’t let her.
“I can hurt you Nerissa, i have hurt you.” The flash comes again, justified distaste for being dropped as a used toy. Nerissa’s hands clench, Shiori can’t stop the sick thrill of having her where she wants her.
“I’ve hurt others too, i’ve failed them and left them behind. Just another cog in the machine, another line of words in the evergrowing archives. If i have failed them, why do you think i can’t fail all of Advent too. that i haven’t failed you all already.”
She has to press on with this, has to keep going. No matter how much this hurts, no matter how badly she just wishes to rush into the demon’s arms again and be told everything is going to be alright.
It’s not a privilege she can allow herself, lest she let’s the woman be consumed by the same rot that occupies her very being. To either be devoured whole and be nothing but another piece in the archiver’s collection, or be another victim of the sins that follow Shiori since her first contact with any godly entities.
She has let an entire empire fall already in her name, letting Nerissa fall would be as catastrophic to her.
She hadn’t even noticed she had started crying, hadn’t noticed how she pressed her eyes shut as if preparing to get struck like an ill behaving child.
“In the end everything i have come into contact with, i lose. I’m the archiver, i’m supposed to be the observer of the story and not the active participant. If i allow myself this, if i allow myself you.”
She bites down on her lower lip so hard she can feel blood pool immediately, the sting feels welcoming. A fitting punishment, bringing clarity.
“....I can’t let myself hurt you…”
A pathetic soft whisper, a pathetic end to her vitriol.
All that bravado and she still crumbled in the end, threw up her heart to the raven for her to judge. Dangling around as a lure, predator using aggressive mimicry to get what it wants.
“oh Shiori…”
There’s a soft gentle pressure on the side of her face, quickly snapping her eyes open to let her see eye to eye with Nerissa.
She had expected anger, justified rage, for her being such a pathetic coward. For dragging her here, just to threaten her and spill her guts.
Or maybe that was the plan, lull her into a false sense of security just to tear out her heart to make it hurt as much as possible.
She’d allow it, welcome it with open arms even, it would be a deserved consequence for all those that she had failed miserably over her life.
“You know, you really don’t need to make decisions for me on how to keep me safe darling. I’m a grown girl, i can handle myself” warm and soft still, something’s wrong.
“But-” “No but’s darling. You don’t have to apologize for this, i can imagine this has all been very hard on you. But i trust you, and you are more than just the archiver. You’re Shiori Novella, our beloved leader of Advent, the one that gave us our freedom back, you are not defined by the Archiver.”
She can feel the slight pressure of Nerissa’s wings moving around them both, shielding her from the outside. She can feel something crack in herself, break, like an hourglass letting all its sand slip through the cracks.
She’s not sure how Nerissa doesn’t push her away as she sobs and wails into her, clinging to her as if it’s the only thing tethering her to reality.
“I’m sorry, i’m sorry i’m so sorry i just- i can’t. I don’t know what i’ll do if i hurt any of you, you especially Rissa. I’m sorry i just ran”
“You’re ok Shiori, I don't mind waiting for you. I never have. I just wish you had that compassion for yourself that we do for you.”
Nerissa gently brushes away some of the hair clinging through her forehead before she can feel the soft press of her lips against it, she instinctively let’s out a whimper at the contact that is definitely not fitting for an elder god.
“It’s ok love. Please just talk to us ok? We’re here for you, I’m here for you. It’s the least we can do for you, to be patient.”
She’s not sure how they got in this position, with her nestled into Nerissa’s lap, but she can’t say she minds. With the contact she denied herself this entire time, she might be a bit touch starved for her usually very physically affectionate raven. Nerissa is gently petting her hair, if she deludes herself she is almost sure Nerissa looks at her with nothing but deep affection.
hmm. maybe.
She doesn’t think she deserves it, not after all of this. She doesn’t really think she has ever deserved this at all, but she feels greedy.
Locating Nerissa’s other hand on her hip, she gently tries to intertwine their fingers together. Nerissa follows her idea the instant she realises, another soft kiss is pressed to her forehead.
“Shiori” she gently squeezes their combined hands as acknowledgment.
“Do you want this? "Us, i mean.”
Even if that was the question she has wanted to hear, she still feels her breath stop for a moment. Words evading her still, so much for being an archiver, she settles for pressing her head against Nerissa’s chest and nodding.
Nerissa moves her hand out of her hair to hold her by the chin, she’s initially unsure of what she wants but flushes when Nerissa’s eyes flash to her lips and back up. She nods tentatively.
The contact of their lips definitely made her feel like she got too close to the sun, the foreign heat spreading through her body making her collapse against the other woman searching for more.
She whines when they separate, moving to grab the other woman’s waist just to keep close to her after her own inflicted solitary confinement.
“We definitely need to talk about your martyr complex baby girl. Way to get a girl to confess to you.” Nerissa’s smile is still so bright, she has no idea how she can manage that after everything.
“hmmm i should.” maybe it would be ok, maybe she can allow herself this.
“I guess i got really lucky with you, huh my girl?” it’s airy, a lovesick tone so intense she can’t even recognise herself in it.
Gods, she really has to apologize to Biboo and the dogs for her behaviour after all of this. For now though.
She feels Nerissa press another kiss against her lips, a little bit more aggressive this time.
maybe it will all be fine this time….