SATAN. God understands. JUDAS. Yeah, but, don't choices have, like, consequences? SATAN. C'mon, you really think we have a choice?
– The Last Days of Judas Iscariot, Stephen Adly Guirgis
𖦹
I want to meet you in every place I ever loved. Listen to me – I am your echo. I would rather break the world than lose you.
– This is How You Lose the Time War, Amal El-Mohtar
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Osmond kneeled at the shrine within the glade, generous shadows from the trees above covering the webbed idle of his Majesty. Placing his squared executioners sword against the stone of the shrine, he closed his eyes, the beginnings of a prayer falling from his lips and yet he could still hear the shuffling of feet behind him. Though the glade was peaceful at this time before the dusk set into a dewy spring night as it always did, Osmond's peace was cut somewhat short as a stray rock skittered across the cobblestone, breaking his concentration.
The interruption of his daily prayers did not cause him irritation, in fact, the meandered pacing of Miguel had become a comfort these past weeks since he had arrived; that sense of familiarity and solace around the other man had caused Osmond's mind to stray from his Lady of Shadows. His mind was nothing but Her, eight spindly legs, red eyes, raven hair and all that her godly visage was but now his thoughts strayed to this man who was still nothing but a stranger at this point.
His sword was promised to a Goddess, the Weaver of Webs, a divinely cursed being he had devoted his entire life and soul to, yet he imagined himself on his knees in front of Miguel, taking communion as he would for Her. Osmond needed answers, so he prayed but not for good fortune in his journeys as he normally would but as to why this man was shunted into his life with such ferocity, why here, why now? Was there a lesson to be learned, tenets to be questioned?
A daring thought crossed his mind, one he would not wish for his Lady to hear. I feel as if I could find religion anywhere with Miguel; in my fingers caressing his hair, in my lips touching the shell of his ear, in not-so-chaste grazes of the hand. If it were him, Osmond could sate his faith.
Osmond Gavell / ARACHNID KNIGHT
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⚔️ Descriptive violence, religious trauma/religious imagery, explicit sexual content, internalized homophobia/period-typical homophobia, gore/body horror, emotional manipulation, cults
⚔️Wow, hi, so this is an unorthodox one lol but bear with me please, I have a vision. This is definitely inspired by me playing A LOT of DND irl and just that fantasy brain worm really putting its legwork in (i.e medieval dark fantasy universe my beloved). The idea for this fic sprung on me while I was driving home from the theater and I could not wait to start it because I knew who Miguel was before ATSV and liked him but now?? Ohhh he's so cunty and sad and mean, I love men!! And to clarify, this isn't an AU or anything it's just pre-canon cause I love fucky time-travel/dimension hopping stuff
Anyway, Osmond! Spider-Knight!! I love me a good paladin who is blindly faithful to their god! He will definitely not have some sort of crisis of faith, nope :) Also I don't really have an fc for Osmond, the closest I'd say is Joel Kinnaman in Altered Carbon but like medieval knight/paladin flavored.
