Tw: Death, gore.

Angst time, baby! Poor Ex, has a bad habit of dying in fics.

This is 2,200 words btw im sorry-

Medieval setting, but that doesn't really have much bearing on the story, its almost entirely character based.

Ex's name is Evander, deal with it-

Not proofread we die like kings
---

A tree.

Innocuous, proud, with limber arms, oft freckled with leaves. The canopy stretched like a cloud, shading the grass underneath.

The tree was nothing special.

It shed its leaves in winter, grew them back for spring, provided shade in summer, and bore fruit in fall.

It was the perfect tree. Perfect for climbing on, perfect for reading under, perfect for hiding behind, perfect for hanging people from.

The townspeople couldn't have asked for more. It was even planted in front of town-hall!

So when the peasant stole gold, or the wife fucked the baker for bread, the mob had to do little more than march to the center of town and string up a rope.
---

Evander had always been an outlier. Since the day he was old enough to, he had been different. Waves of snowy hair topped off his head, clashing with his polished wood skin. His eyes glowed a deep brown, a gentle red in their richness. When the town priest first saw his eyes, he remarked that the devil could have lived inside them.

Evil, they had called him. A nickname, petty and small, that- young as he was- stoked coals in his heart. Though, as quickly as he started fighting it, he embraced it. If they wanted him to play the villain, he could strike a pose.

Evil Evander, they cooed, like strange birds, descending from the heavens to peck at his nerves. Give us a show! More strange coos, these louder, pecks against his skin given credence as sticks that barely drew blood from his tanned skin.

Evil Evander! The birds called, wings swooping around, flicking against his skin in the form of booted feet. Bruises would litter his skin, that much was for sure. Why don't you fight back?! Limbs. Sticks. Bruises. Cuts. Blood. Pain.

Then, Evander's brother was born.

Xisuma, he was dubbed.

If Xisuma were a bird, his wings would have been shiny and majestic, beautiful in their graceful elegance. Brown waves stood calmly on pale skin, green eyes deep and wondering in their purity. When first the town priest saw Xisuma's eyes them, he remarked they were those of an angel.

Evander soon fell into his brothers shadow. Jeers of Evil Evander were soon replaced by Jeers of Evil Xisuma.

Why remember two names, when one was simply a shadow of the other.

Evander never held that against Xisuma, however. How could he?

Xisuma was the perfect angel- he'd never mean to cause Evander harm, emotionally or physically. If the birds would like to call him Evil or peck at his skin, he could endure, as long as none of that ever fell to Xisuma.

In time, he had learned to be his brother's other half. Evil Xisuma.. the name felt right, so he shortened it. Ex. He could live with that. He was already the antithesis of his brother, changing his name to reflect that wasn't any skin off his back.

Brother, why do you let them call you that?

Dear angel, sometimes you just have to follow the tide.

But they're calling you evil! They're saying you're the evil me! They have no idea what you're really like! It's not fair!

Dear angel, you are perfect. If I am the evil version of something perfect, then thats a fair bit better than what they are.

But..

Shh, its late, dear angel. You should get some sleep.

Evander..

Ex, dear angel.

I..

Chapped lips pressed against Xisuma's impossibly soft skin, warm tingling on his cheek as the person the lips belonged to pulled away.

I love you, dear angel, now get some sleep.
---

Xisuma had never known his parents. Evander had always filled that gap.

It might not have been the ideal life, two brothers against the world, but for Xisuma it was all he knew.

And he wouldn't have traded it for anything.

Sure, times got tough. Yeah, life wasn't ideal. But they had each other, that was all that mattered.

Evander was 11 when his father died. Xisuma was still in his mothers womb. Though, it was far from the first time he saw death.

Evander was 12 when his mother died. Xisuma was just born.

They had learned to make due.

Xisuma had been little older than 8 when first he saw death. A woman, who couldn't have been a day over thirty. Her skin nearly matched that of the tree behind her, legs kicking, voice straining, eyes burning with fear as a noose claimed her life.

Witch!

Demon!

Whore!

Thief!

Liar!

Shouts flowed through the air, each louder than the last, none consistent.

Xisuma hadn't known the woman, much less what she had been accused of, but that hadn't mattered- not to the crowd.

She, for whatever reason, had deserved to die.

Anger and fear melted and mixed, swirling into blizzard of rage and violence- a primal, animalistic feeling. The mob didn't care how, who, or what, they just needed blood. Death. Destruction. Chaos.

They grabbed the most convenient candidate and turned them to a corpse.

It made Xisuma's stomach churn, the pure sadism of it all. Emotion had been the judge, jury, and executioner in a trial that was rigged from the beginning.

Its just so.. unfair.

Thats just the way the world is, dear angel. They didn't kill her because she did anything wrong. They killed her because she was different, and they wanted blood.

Then, life moved on.

The woman laid forgotten until the next morning, when some kind strangers took her to be buried.

No one spoke of the night before, as if the violence and chaos was nothing but a distant memory, a collective surge of drunken rage that left a body in its wake. It was sick. But no one questioned it.
---

It wasn't long after that, Evander got his first job.

Before then, they had been surviving off inherence and kindness. Now, they had a glimmer of a future.

Evander sat Xisuma down on their bed. At that point, they shared a house with a woman. She was kind, old, and smelled like fresh pie. Mrs. Miller, she was called, and she had known their parents before they passed.

Dear angel, I'll be back late tonight. Mrs. Miller will tell you when to sleep, okay?

What..? N- no! I want to be with you!

I'm sorry, dear angel, but I have to go.

Br-Broth.. brother!

Shh, shh.. dear angel, please don't cry.

Please don't leave me..

Dear angel, I will never leave you.
---

Xisuma was 10 when he first caught wind of something.. off.

Evander had stumbled into their small shack, where they had been living for the past few months, and collapsed into bed.

He was gentle, but woke Xisuma, his gentle mahogany eyes meeting softer emerald ones.

Shh, dear angel, its only me.

Brother? What..

Mm, quiet.. I just.. if we are ever separated, just know that I will always love you.

Wha-What! No- please don't-

Shh, angel, if we are ever separated, I will do everything I can to come back to you. But..

..I've been.. wrapped up.. in some things, that I never want anywhere near you. Promise that if you ever lose me, you won't come looking?

Evander.. what.. are you..

I will always find you, but please, don't try to find me.

I..

Please, dear angel, I will always come back to you.
---

Xisuma was 12, when it finally happened.

It was an otherwise ordinary night. Xisuma, folded into the loving embrace of his brother, asleep.

It was all so sudden.

Shouts, screams, and Xisuma and Evander were ripped apart.

Both immediately shot awake, but it was too late by then.

Evander was shoved into ropes, jeer's of 'Evil Xisuma' roaring through the angry mob that had come to their home.

They kicked and strained, but could not stop what happened next.

Fear ran through Ex's veins, feeling his limbs strain, bloody and helpless against the ropes that had been forced onto him. His bare feet dragged through the mud, scrapes littering the tanned flesh where rocks caught his feet. Pain- there was so much pain.

A large, firm hand gripped a fistful of his ivory hair- the long wavy strands dirtied with grime and blood. A pathetic sob choked out of his throat, head thrown back as a large figure hauled him towards the center of town.

Even though he knew what was coming, his red eyes widened with fear, limbs struggling in vain as he was drawn closer and closer to the rope-

Stop! Please! Wa- wait! No- please-

Hateful whimpers and whines scrubbed his throat raw, tears spilling from his eyes. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die.

His throat soon felt the scratchy pull of a rope, the weightlessness of being held the only thing stopping him from- he was dropped.

And suddenly, fear boosted adrenaline crashed through his veins.

He kicked and struggled, but his motions only tightened the noose around his neck. Burns scratched blood in a line across his neck, as darkness slowly bled into his vision.

Evander!

A voice called to him.

One he recognized.

One that cut through the crowd, one so sweet and innocent. What was it doing at an exi- Xisuma..

If Ex could speak, he would have screamed for his brother to get out of there. He'd be dead in seconds, he didn't want his brother to see that.

With the seconds of life left in him, he forced his eyes open. Searching.. searching.. there- he saw him. Eyes of an angel.

He must have looked a mess. Tears, blood, dirt, grime, covering every inch of him. Hair pulled and messy, the life slowly being choked out of him.

Oh, Xisuma, he was sorry.

He closed his eyes.
---

Xisuma screamed his throat dryer than Ex's, and then he screamed some more.

No! Stop! He's not evil! Please! Please! No!

He thrashed his small limbs against larger, unrecognizable ones, begging to be let go. Fat, salty tears sprung from his eyes, the emerald orbs beyond terrified.

Sleep-stupid, he could do nothing but claw at the arm holding him back, a sort of glassy calm coating his senses. He didn't truly register what was happening- feeling drunk on adrenaline, and high on fear.

He tried. He really tried to stop them.

He screamed, he kicked, he cried, he sobbed. He did everything.

But, he could do nothing.

A man had manhandled his brother into the noose. And that was it.

Evander!

He screamed.

His voice was shot at that point, but he still screamed.

He ignored the pain- glassy calm still coating his nerves, dulling every sense poor Xisuma had.

And then forest green met mahogany red for one last time.

Xisuma read the unspoken words beneath that crimson gaze.

I'm sorry, angel.

The glass shattered.

Xisuma's knees went weak, a broken sob leaving his dried, bloody lips. He was only held up by mysterious arms suspending him, but he was soon dropped, leaving him to the mud.

Tears, sweat, blood, and grime coated every inch of his skin, sobs leaving his throat sticky and hoarse.

He was so.. weak.

His brother had done nothing but protect him, his whole life. He had been called evil, he had been outcasted, but he still protected Xisuma. Cared for Xisuma. Loved Xisuma.

And now, he was dead.

All Xisuma could do was sob.

The mob soon dispersed, leaving Xisuma behind, collapsed in the dirt.

He had never felt so alone, sobbing his eyes out to the barren town around him.

Why?!

He wailed, wanting nothing more than to be in his brother's arms again.

With shaking legs, he stood, stumbling towards the tree, towards..

Ex was still warm. Thats what Xisuma discovered when he took the corpse down.

It couldn't have been an hour, he knew, but the thought still chilled him to the bone.

Evander's body thumped uselessly to the soft earth beneath it, his eyes pried open and fearful- still painfully alive, even if the rest of him was not. Xisuma could almost hear his brother's voice, as tears dripped down his cheeks. Could almost hear that sweet, soft honey, flowing into his ears as his shaking hands closed pale eyelids over crimson orbs.

Almost.

Don't cry, dear angel. You are strong.

Don't cry, dear angel. I will never let anyone hurt you.

Don't cry, dear angel. You are beautiful.

Don't cry, dear angel. I will always love you.

Xisuma's unsteady hands untied the ropes binding Evander's wrists, taking the rapidly cooling palms of his brother's hands into his own.

The hands that had held him before he could walk. The calloused palms that had handed him the larger half of bread. The steady fingers that had brushed away so many of his tears. The firm grip of a hug he would never feel again.

It's okay, dear angel. I am always with you.

Don't fear, dear angel. You are safe in my arms.

Please, dear angel. I will be fine so long as I have you.

Remember, dear angel. I will always love you.

A sob choked through Xisuma's throat at the memories.

Even when food was tight, Evander always made sure he was fed.

Even when winter grew cold, he was always warm.

Even when times got tough, he always had a home. With Evander, he was always home.

He was always safe, tucked away in his brother's arms.

Always.

Brother, I'm scared.

I know, dear angel. It's okay to be afraid. I'm sorry that I can't be there now, but you know that I will always love you.
---

A bit of angst, sorry :)

Schools started for me, so that could mean I speed up/slow down fic writing. Idk.

Fluff next, I think?? Idk.

I'm trying to focus on more high quality fics, trying to just.. improve as much as I can. So, more longer updates? But less quantity ig.

Oh! And thanks for 40k reads! Holy shit!

Yours, #anycompitentpolitician2020