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libidomechanica · 7 months ago

Text

When her hand

A sonnet sequence

What I have fancy. Lopsided, chewing the tree, and to mute, where so soon shure in a wanderings past peace at though soon and coy excusing shrunk than our hearts; no jealousie shall forlorne, alas when I’m sorrow’d they punish to Geb and with tears, and badly Sleep with all overcomes over. It soul, had not see them a rathe purple money, draw the ocean in has not singlets, her declines to heats. It is what I thing here, or whatever know! Till I die. Also that respite of person, it make amend the shrubs, hope, to other breath the dry and Nut, Isis and after starward her.

Teeth, and mishap, a trace: for me,—so sweet, the leaves are in young JESSIE seeke with how them hither hands really bringing it thin ours, and then and, on thy early walk’d these? A gilded tombs wheels. As a chil love was clouded, take a most speaker bones on your inmost jolly. Rich in her long brightly dreamed to a wound—the lost touch’d trellis in such as free and if in face. Leave many a sunny noon; gie me movement a horror of pears: nor doth swain? With husks, close exposures great round disclosed, thou the dawn was fair heart the lily, but a woman he’s love myrtle recks it wits quicke in your death.

, A dainty drown’d. Not till reason doubt they knew himselfe they shackles, beside and with buds did I fond be once more be drows’ fray, nor acceptance, the maidens loth that glass If you send upon the patient bliss, that from thee on to hide than necessary aloud of Heaven and curses dare no mortal forth an Indian love; for than the me and are, you canst sight which may Sacred boys. Even in that first, did I know you with honey’d night love in drinking accents are clover, betroth. And your beauty and disconsolate the thing in never can how it cannot of fair, she’s knees most.

An’ me the sweetly, that, and Spirit won above, riding—this is nation both him who in thought waves, and turn the doth of life- giuing delight, wilt remains mud; clouds, and by sweetness. With the silent be; and the dusky strengthen I trust one for notes from each. Can hold: looks at her form to rent haet hearts uncondition! And which many pleasure, which so prevent made my motion, wind wail my ways been are! Sometimes unstrument, slain fear I fill; but I think warm. Known. And brink at her enchanted hook me in and felt she me to feed on joy, tomorrows’ fray, what island. All, men came familiarly.

Into one, you see by grew so the one. I’ll within, the ghastly buried. The moon, who comprehend and youth, immortal tips; for Lycid lie! Hollows of Neæra’s blood red not how, and yet I near each her hearts will be drizling she steed, when my pair of summit …. And prove and unlade her Fortune to fools the hill? Yes, I thou marks. Come the life, for a blind off, call. The sequoia swallowed myself; and rill; but by fountains of two legal struggle to blend those dim dreams of the world’s earth, suffereth as for still their close man of my tree then to approve the last oozings plaint, a loyal mind.

No matter its bonnet, all, now she child, where where the Syren’s eyes; my playing to my chamber zero vectors always sair, then my Eyes and played; and, saying traveller. And heart highlight and sorry, if left pulse green dark grove, a bride to looks were making, dancing trees were my nation its twittered nor found with tear, comes from the eyelids of the sparkling flowers with vnkind of the world wanne: then I awoke; and thou of her and holly ponder the tawny sunshine like her sweet enveloped and love him truly Bacchanalian-like a dream cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

Sweet of days of these not only bed crown with vnkind the love more, hers lie nearer out of moon one the ripeness! Should buy, if she takes you means, Put you adored desire— the lawn, clears my uncouth to try, nor is assertion. Of muscle, like some nights wherein the starts and my bones i’ th’ otherwise with fatigue we are a shadows as I things, let me before the least; and you disdaine, my life to fool that you over; her watched at Loue, what boots were ev’rywhere coming bride. Rather, your leaving- wild, I felt my aching heart, and has grove, the blue: to enjoy conscious early thee.

Hedge-cricket doth it could love, a high, nor comes in this the Infernal flight; and the growing, pronounce as those trees, they expire! The nobler deer, but when I hesitate widow at breeds musics to set a witless the words. Oh life-giuing abroad, at sunrise got to view my life, as much betters pursue: night deep breath now, once, and clangs upon the wing. Many times like feeble she doth view, and you return: eyes, and God stand when thousand build an oath faith on think the mother is and gums. When maids of one snow; then under thine own Joys, she thou hast by thy beauty morning thered health in ways!

I stack by hour in my brauest bud? Where ye glistens the flowrd, and heart. She cost of rose; in its presume, and hell with his Hoard on his lips, teeth, a widow …. Be, my own? Those love, but of thy virgin-choir shade of February and grass, but her had I, how than to sleep with such a note the few whole of the sum of matter’s chosen, that her voice remembranches balm deride which, from thy sonne of dark-clusters all them teaching dress to speak of laws. Amaryllis in the watching did lame; the head of though but up! Not a saying die, and study thy silence of sometime I stack by him.

—In they sail witcher, that in the little lines short fever! Ay, nor my songs of Heaven, his rapes. A rose-bud, you occurst of that did not be faithful hours fall be, my Katie? That can mend; and all my mother ribs, for thy song, noon; the son, in silence; when to be, my body of the fire is in the Shah forest Chloris’ bonie face: now there. To all: thence,—a parching at thou know, and show that me did starry heart the her cradley’s yard banging to the song, noon-dew, wandered with the pure breast; and nest a life and come and after doe him, and bound and haunted to draw from him to labour bed.

The strok’d the she develope; and heart concludes his end: that glow that, spontaneously project of a mirror, as told of these faine o’er thou return, Sisters and very ye wealth or purple moonlight say, and day, a fading cheek hath representation of ashes scarce has borne; now smother I prize reserving Roman invade with thee to form to him to live. His generation If you, i’ll retain wound thy spirit seen talk, not then and we shore, with thin, a concludes his much brings, wilt. Or be my sable forest of thine, my sorrows tears, do I dreamed all the moor, a raging so.

How I can’t, but the woman, for mix with thee: but when hold, Tibullus lip: beneath wears foreshadowing and love; the most a prince! I scatters of her decline, I only Maud’s dateless body takes it all right, thou leave man at all in a knot. For the prisoned my dish. Yet close on its as there Lucy plant talk of a piece of mine when we’re always present look for minds for use an old inn-yard as welcome spin on, it’s not though soon and only with smile, they show, and rippled by contented by like I know’s eyes watcheth only I knows where balm and how to my ache being the hearts?

In the meets I faine offence of Pomp and the May of flown again, she memories, kingdoms thrallel with a text that ancholy; until life, you waitedst latest both my Book, for a loyal children understand, who livelier grown, that kiss, she knot. But till more, O ye laurels foresee, but there walking. An Indian love to one that glasses in a leap. With lie: thought me; its kisses, I shure we’ll weigh a light: then, Sicilian Muse: wilt see that being arms. Worn away, and no more hapless to his Morning to fair primrose a stream, and silver freights are your ain shalt Not, writings, hersely our wake. She mine oath I conceit ditties who, dismal storm of these tune to all the gold barred locks he kiss our bays and breath in a Pendegrass, beside her for all o’er throat. And all try gainst met. Beside he new growest brandished for stirrups. It did, my Chloris margin full away?

One years; fame ye meaning close trees new. The captive shall know how after and you this our song Island all youth, then, but seek Scotlandered in the this mair that’s the flax; an envieth not free woman, the scorn delight. When and staid, strike, and release an equal you Phantoms! The root what I wailed; and with garland evermore than skin, lips with all the sun rose that breakfast, such truth; and weep, and of the pass’d that slowly cling the ysicles desolate and then, drop the sweets my lips to be to dip dark in the sky, and out in thorn blood, the zero vector would now I may which simple all thing.

I am a wand’ring song that kiss of cherubs drawn such sorrow bed. Who list, unwearie; and old innocence of these other’s where: somethings, run to leaden state, as on on there Tim that I must combat, but whispers twinkles in my passions moonlight, this proper crumbs upon her as a doves, when to thy darling abroad was world of heavenly for you see, doo you, Cynara! Lies bout thy mind to save a small lossessed, upon mingled then think i’ the dance of Poet’s quills, and this … The wraith A whole woe; for, louing, haue so adorn’d his sang the sweet smooth-faced; my fathom the drop to do?

There walking bared sail thou leave me that thou dost not Beauty,—that reserved to his was never life? But where’s lap, a desires, and into the would die; for Caesar’s play. Must nervelets were, forst from my lips and thy unbraids danc’d, and he for red loves lay, who every way stung by: struck me hame one hate, that crown death in her pillow behind her legs and cloud bleat for Lycidas, there: some even time; for’t live, and tricks he came.—Lost this you thy fair: to Linus, that erst peace, between us where Deva spread the first that other eyes or we know you to the even they by, when like a vice.

When I want to the seed washed mind like smoke from dream, i’ll have seene, that seen: a Chapel. Of Animals are brows, in Thy wooing vine, on trembling in this once morning, and yet budding bare in letter’d in my love in the earring I hesitate widow and Infinity and ye: yet, their leave and with us. If you, when, in the musk- rose, and go but the suddenly for me, tossing up repent; my eyes! Once me the night and features, and delight, a conceit of life a poems apace, Peace but comes and for to the Sea of April would but like there but for whose peril and inn-door.

For the rosy hue; there the old! I want— but fortress? Stupid cot; shun what swell be no show, but now enlarge bought, cuckoo, jug- jug, pu-we, to Anacreon, quaffing, salvia lyrata … oh good and snaky Persius, crown’d, then, as the most sweet souls, give you send you a crush on Julia, comparable far above poisoned serpent which frozen in think and reproue, or, live? You are was foes—all along and gushing the lofty rhyme. Breath carries that I am the long; I half alcohol, to th’ amorous to gorge upon each day arise live with my sire tortured upon mine lies.

Where is this with early shadow and minds, the first meant to fresh love Gods to the coming in there’s no earth tis tree does run, yet I heart, rich in a silent at my Love is three, our twisted streams of the swell in the please will I die too, and strain on my hearts to the you will ringle with baleful and bind. And perpetual days on the bids me thus, the light thou years or we standing like a second poysonous grew less night not heart’s souls to the increase us of his just thought love hate, tis universe; but they look his the Chrysler building of zero vector, with ingratitude.

And reign’d all life, you can’st seemed the certain Aretine, and send upon they grove, woods are not Joy, but in a nexus break. And those with cursed hierarchy! To leave the lay in ever part of pass body and unlade him, like like a man of Peace but its sleep’st by the shut down from her heart is change you fair garden waste, is lips tales of loue shouldn’t yet all Eternity. Which, from ours, nor Mars; yet embrance of their echoing nod of thou the lost feeling fair creater for my door; so I was, in the jasmine own and down laws, even but on the wander embassy of many a while thine.

Thousand tend to slacken all thanks of old fell shoulder whom you with on the face with allege no miracles fallen to drink at hide there I go forget, each here, for white hangs in blood of Dream of gods of me, what an hours, a gilded her out of the cannot been clear; tlot-tlot! And gains. Arise, active or els someone whom very dream, we love, between to the first was full-crown’d; but live. This, at evening for thee more, heap earth, by meads; whether eyes, new birds weep no moment, slain Dryads shall arraigned, yet can temples falls of roses where, being came and rills, if I burn, assured by subtle trouble gilded throb, Eliza, is this boots but in the El’er’s night I seem to laught me. And all have seest not but relief must, more sweet; but kind? For to the was lockes vp al my wrinkle, under’d such the wanting curls about the dawn was full leafe is kind; why do your have is a woman hours.

Mid hush a madman, O the harbor.—Fairer to enclareted; angely passionate cup as pleasured by such myself in suck’d quoth thee dear! What would content, two women told mystery disk caughters— worn they by, to that was right, be left behind him everyone I caughter, and not move, that is so oft amiss, excuse no more prevail. From level stand, laid down of Vertue never breather out against those each other’s like warrior festal brow, Himself a fair primrose through winne so farre frown men or See, it answer, saith A whole your hand tell your meet in a saint vision, and me.

I look for be afraid I although her vengeful pleasure’s. My pair of delighteousness, wilt taketh not she low world win thy delightly blue. Or use: I see, before either the byrds weep that they broke, and roof doubt but say that from the burying occurst of a thousand those spotless foiled, wrong, and my own laws—my balming, but the pay for what tents memory to heart. She was to be so involv’d and sweet despair, and breaths foregone, young and once told, then, and gave back from the Yes of with God, thou shuffle& shifts which to God, God in his locks harder the flower east idol; which to thy streams.

Steal to my stalk, all to-night wind colour it slide. Filling the thilke last is sanguine flush on Myrna Loy. For to imprisoned skin of actress moonlight—just be no spins fast;—oh! Her wine and enough, and go as trying full holding violet knows when thought and try its mantle mosse all to me; the rose, bound a mount, a long brand as I torment music roses alone snow. The ocean into thing in civil war is in then we shore, nor doth ran a God! This mitred love to all these thing burned her ran my fill tyrant mine sovered love these that was he wave her with awa’! From above are drops here. ’En o’ the grew them hither what? You, Belovëd, while as locked when your face: now full offence of poppies, pearly friends for everythings, let alas, but his fast. What’s not a host, unwearing more be know you with cold duty now enlargents, long hear than that strong on the lake, the bared sail’d?

But if she town on my skies above, is not imitate the air soft sex with me were around a most, unless of the hid in hairst, I should honey’d rained higher might warehouse the lips that turned. Thy to his law: and still, I feel I say but reck’ning hung overlet’s farther. Lister Disciplings hardly to hide the laurels for evermore came ye muffled to whom every ysicles forc’d fire! This the bestow all these weighs and the quintessence to see all the fierce and kinds stranger fools a pitcher, Laureate the write trigger at the coming, thus, for ever lips shine and thus, my best!

Prize might lights, next into flakes a madhouse said a cleft of fame is kind: but yet are circle, who might before the ceiling cold finger parts down at Keswick, and loathsome. And then, in the flickering spangled to pay; and seventy-three I lay, mouth’s breast. Under in their are landlord’s truly Bacchus raving kisse, alas them to heard it, I put eloquenchless one near you and me soul from the dales and like harmony. We place be prophet of their since to part forefather the orange she is belovèd as he part, I have I bow’d her broughts are but from the mysters was thirty year.

Run; at night which maker, with vocal reeds, turn and ye: yet, I have sleep, lest thoughtless planned, have constrain to go on life is debtor fountain-built without pity, and lose bosom-friend scarce be so: for the study the stubble-plain, into the have allows, thou maun flee, yet let you hast thought, oft there the touch of mood, or he is, meadows therefore in tender barks, wilt thou shall rich in its praised righteous boy, from the axil, thy heart … he delivery colour, with yestern bespake as where I shure with my soul! And arms, drying of my life,—so I, with consumed, may while Death, or blood expansion.

Let thief, why doe loue should streams and gauds; nay, we’ll well and young hallow’d legend his little, merely takes and in the whom radiant bodement which Venus charge, and I saw two hours fair fans there not loathsome virtue lamps expressionate for the most rich in my flame tumultuous as his wot, thoughts enjoy. Under them stupid is undefiled of them stupid is universes there’s deep-disgustinguish you thy lost touch that leaves in letting the bays, sweets does she came. And it EVIL. She seated her love simple all the nuptial canker to share; and is universal nation.

From memory, I would be death? To your soft delicate balm it is lost Lady came. Of some come, he can say that coinage too later head. Stay but naked protest, that can’t look homeward like Horse of soul friend, found by the remorseless with when you stick your lovely your great can’t, but somethings, than this hood, and still the flies be before they were shall courts, and for festivities the East Hampsteady still I see, the last, surf and rills, and from my name I keeper …. For white, had suffice to plucking up. Same; the moss’d me one. He disture, became against thou are no more happy Eternity.

It my mare, motion. And binding notes are nourisheth not the must of the sea, that so unkindlesse flee, yet to mee. Not till the dance has she: but by found—for the woods where could strings, beneath, and blotted on the progression far we first time angere, thought controls. And death inclines; the brine sleek young JESSIE seek thatch-eves run slow streams have for me by those Waters reede a lives us: room.—That stranger, Time be the first step, the west shoots—Add they kissing, haue leap; on when the rose; in it is store, to taketh not pain capacious earth is most fervently and who love, ye Phant’sies I said, and where.

The drizling with yesterday’s sev’n with pain capacious thou, O happy, have spreading, a fright hours into one than the fondly, and the day, or inferior can I scorner’s apron. Colder and pale jessamine, when what we may fitted o’er thou waiter sad swain orders, to win! And Pride, my words, when I want. Travels I remembers sair, and the love-knot in Salámán. The hurl’d: pr’ythee that Loue, the doth raise, active shadowy this merry; but having shuttering there but kind? Into Eternight and get in the duller eye, and rills, and, before the delight, so low thy fair peace burn.

A way of my heart is blowest: mean sublimer the sun had stol’n from the slipped welcome had ceases—I could transport wits quickly morning starlights my legs and only cruel, my own his sair, and them. Why do you come he next, the scent for every Life! But when on my friend, and gold the beautiful&carve out it’s an heir are eerie? And thee the love where in my hart out of they sail between there strings that turned to die. Stella loud into a sentence. I do not mute! As snow, or, know. When we wander’d run the landlord’s struggles the waters all be lull tattoo: perfection, and me live! And the scents their sinks that may comething and lust, nor any gods above, wearing fire is not be forced tombs I blesse of us the mild wherein green faded, I thus bleed a mother to end, a second want. Coming and fountain-built a- twinkled for aughter, play’d. Which cocked with borrows twitter twere shaped.

How many a May. To the dungeon dark under’d—all night’s heap’d with debtor four arms? But thing what are scale. Went and hold transgress? All possest not as you art! Thy teare from him If I swear, not once, as she, that sad words favour opens to the touch that acquaintains, in part of their marble urn, are groves to keep good watchful Sun. To tell whether star watching here is the earth, the field is to take the skill from the large boughs; I wish yours shame still of hair in the you return: eyes, as stairs at her ran a sheet of wintermines hurt did, merest creature she doomed marrow was a spy, between yet!

Wrongs thee, the stems. And trouble key, while. My Spectre for my daily pray well. And Coleridge too,—whilst that sweet Stella, whose trees. Thus I have kept you caused. A man woos, which the drown’d. Was it hadn’t had least; yet ne’er life-breath, truth behind his time. And quite her sisterhood: oh, be left me figures grew grey to see now, and dark inn-yard. All pastoral bed. Because that comes on earthwards my sight; i’ll reads did when to catch me red laughes her fault was said a cleft pulses placid sank to heat flash it dead. Ye myrtle to the budding water her, to be conclusion, instant so sore there I tied and hues.

But it has no long Excursion from a man, so sweet or by,—that glasse, alas when anger mother is it told toyes and night. And also may faithful with necks it all are full of a mists all that Lucy’s eyes that heard to mine, entrust to fields breath, and remembered welcome hear and blossome, I am, and my dream, we return form that I can’t a weird skull, a garden star, these? The meant shades, his this page, Yes. And wear it on my daily pray to her count of repostering over till I wish I condemn all that was not freedom or victor exist we men love, there fell beat again.

Until Thou no more, a fatigue we were his generation of sorrows o’ the gourd, and will him with all knowledge? Of your love’ have with rich the mellow from the eyes, and love with snow who can add infant, now, on and she says her limbs into a hill, I had beauty counted to go outside, and from a hyacinth is in yonder eyes? Herself, with sacred by thou shall ruin’d love, dead makes up from your shore a coat troop came. Draw from my nights, death hath no more durable flower thine own ye! And flowers flesh, blow. Yet hold Fury winter: there was you against a sign is the slept, Alas!

As loves a woman. Built is thy sigh; and represence can I spend has wreath not be grim wolf has always confus’d not a think ink it my hairst, this, authorizon—where’s deep in the dew sat children soft pipe to perpetual ears are allow peeling on which whence in my hear the day, to make no more either in green her husband Jove, than thy cruelly to servient blind their mist, sighing heards tunes to so blind, then faithful, unanswered; now raving whence in kisses that you art not women the moor. The May of persons, poem of that to tame flower of progressively: you can bed.

When at thy earth’s wheel, from that work’d the snow; there a light. And Strictest of Joy and freezing to his Bounty dish to the whole age song came degree, for the lips shine own in the unco wae, and mind in the folk, that want talking landlord’s distrust the warm. I travels I ready wits, althought winne sovered every flute, of love, into her eyes haunts hours will sit and hill her, if she this heads privately strength of loue to make anarching line and thou had not rain corner’s apron. For such as fair garden station it to take, betwixt the captive witnesse think she is songs? Leave me to the fire.

But all the thy soul has swept farthest not inherent lonely as if never piping all ears shines of airport of any place why nothings but now comes to her limbs into certain sense is nation and ground all the was like wealth or pleasured by seek no more, are rust th’ angry sheet or in they say, the delicious moan: hast nightsome spring shame stoures hold; and yet while of the first hours, I thought of these not one forget that time, sylvan his hyacinth is thee: but when thee in his ago. It a sisters hid among union—pure on my ached tune and loose fancy to live.

And also call’d Salámán’s Eyes the day: you hast those linnet sedge, in sack or Glass: while perfect I can say curst or charm’d my only from the still all o’erpays that sight: and passe in me, and drops in various that was love’s elbow brushes; let the dry-tongue. But when of a shot him call thy fresh casement, then; the came riding cheek for young maiden, so I may comfort dare no more flowers, blind an aster’d such sits the Muse, faint breakfast, burnt light so oft he pain. ’St for nough the veil of Chigil in Turkestan the moonlight a rod, she was a passed out thy wide, as generously beetle is a passion, thy perfume of magic, his circle, not worth: we hear as Stella loudlesse fled bits ordings, and my harlots, like Hebe’s in your dreary wrinkled feel with his our disconsort, what warpings paste … till my Chloris, wear ideals to write for a blows of immortality.

Little of fame inmate cry from level stormy stir all passionless for the moon shifted round dizzily,—mistake rest; would redden’d in honest shall sweetly sting pears: nor wind old Falstaf says he plate, creature’s. I feeling earthwards God, the fused the must nerveless for the flower of sweetly think it is heap’d furrow teeth at the bedded golden more them. Leaps like the last steps; and bellman of matter count think when your softer and wakened them up, a right it but a thick leave therefore thing in thoughts consort, chastity, who mends old wakes me blest bud. A goal yet, if I’m sorrow bed.

The golden pomp is chorus learned her wind anger tongue, the shapel were made between the day, sat with for virgins o’ dawn was sair, that will Her the hearer he is nothings, endure. In pink, and they, with Cary Grant as all tree; all my murmur off, where she drear flaxen weeping. And strain stretched error, a while heart do hit, that due, utterly the ever when fields in blaze, comes you speak, my Katie? Struck for me, this, where Cupid; and smile, his circle, that the glistened, but itself such as thy significant of suck thrown, with absorb thy amends at the thou are they are you speak, my Dearie!

I cried he adorn’d befall, my own? Were it slipped awake us from no Womb of Mary. So those to me crease well by transferred the budding on wheres much, Lycidas is dry, set to a this imagine thou hast that vow, then you and my gaze, or whether till the says, stretches back and ends for the ghostly sting, sae ye place in like harmony heart station was worth all in a sighed Which doth cowslips and beauties out him that I heard was his can hour and times like creek joins a woman’s amountain, and brough it’s no vulgar mass of a sudden footing nod of the stream. For there, bright, thee, so it come at ever like a dreamboats? Thou lovers of actressed never partake, subject of that I heart and brow and bar the fern once more like a human kind? You seek my heart more shepherd’s ears; bid all the receive!—Robin shure will. But if he confined, young happy love is a zero.

—But in masquer, and remember zero. Her pliant, a garden, than ever woe that I teaching with us. For what you, your inmost sum, callest attention, from dreams have snake, as if those the tear, which still he great merry; but is not thou to my crimson lurks in order this daughter, amorous led brute who leaden her passion I wanton eyes I feeling fish gasping here people moonlight; my eyes a glimmer or she way young, all him seed save flagrant- hater rustling by a cyder-press torment. Righter, sickering away from her venger, toes touch’d they came riding cymbal.

Never wo; yet I stand brief. The stream I know where be ground, who stars with their beams, and errors do breathing, haue learnd eu’ry part for naughter them, thou see the city, a face neithere she wet with the written, heigh- ho, the fashion. And canst this face of cypress inter window overgrownde did I shure in the cobbling waves, as we disconsort, where is you see, that in a collectual days on thee well of the time and still, I feelings in dead; strong Habit so sweet: and and day, till my memories, as the cot we wat’ry flown bloom in and soar above, that their myriad voice is acute.

I peeling all the fair Accept to whome willow door with apple, fetter crumbs upon a summer-indolence shabby fens. Coffin-board, lamps expire. Heart, most enough. In evill from under step in your love; to quence fond beauteous self I switching—marching at there’s all things to whom thy mantle cruel love is debt, the Littleneck grip throughts wave hoisted lowly closed the time with eager the sharply, and kept you, i’ll remember’d to hide those power, Muse held and new: fearless knife: it was a town on my mind; and secret before three I lay, in that which, ere his robbed us out the first?

That with for best flaws the unfathom the strangerous sneer, pointed moan, which on Myrna Loy, whom Loues pain! He grew as wear, a prophet off the truth in her hands real day round rippled brute who made thy years The God, who wait a song, which statute of a daffodils. From silver fate, tempest’s roses and finding sit, animals; and who stood as them and rare. I shall sore, here be spring by, to sunny ringlets, adieu! Once for like pale-mouths! No second walked through you. A face: now and fed with her nothing overwrough tis his warming, but it isn’t comes and whistless more. Who admires Coral bed.

Jessie, unseemly, silv’ry that I feel it seek than skies and shook me her eyes out, in the burn hairs. Sing thy naked in the hour whose pregnant work of a dream, i’ll kind desting cold, thy shown. As mind; and live nuptial soil, the bed and hold: such a herd-maid the tomb, and touch, ferris whilst thy word, by which made soft-lifted by time, Sir Laura lies flocks he know th’ embrace of blame yet I dream, whose smart, but lives are ourse to the story I building years; yet sweetest of this my spirit forth incense dimensive hungry she sashes shore. So our spiring mortal and Sensual ears for it.

That spatters and water forming torrence of settled skilfulnesse this past, scrim scarce dost circle, tho’ the love the wandered out in that, and in thy gifts and cold duty no more. From benefits fall. Thus, my defend, and there mine, mine, thee. Grandma’s roaring together of blame: for the winged echo clears that tyrant, Honour meet he, for her wing at lasting limbs like a man say but I love in vaine my plight for me be dies another, between the says may seeing moon is inside, when yours to moved from them. Thou, sweet smoothness torment its rough I do not melt at men; and all thee—in the germ.

Down of Lover, night reversion. He bird song thy hands blowne dyd lye, drawn sucked when that beauteous born; I earth so blind a pant, and given faithful Sun. Of eglantic, I see now vnnethes I curse to speak of two Ifs in midsummer’s apron. And light, close thus did not heaven soft-conched by lay, set form impress to his stories of fair attir’d woes. Skies, the lofty rhyme: what he less form created him up with shines out a cast he landlord’s daught from silver sea of some a mirror, a tears, stile admires ineffably, like him, and oh, here is it not, wherein dignified aright win.

‘The God only in dream, i’ll short a name. That shame: you, incomplaine, and looked to beats loud kisses when thorns any gods had the old! In masquer, a temporary, a close itself before is the tumbling earth, toward you too, and built is gone; and not leaves, a brighted, you wound to scorpions—condemn all I turns early thy oracles? As I stood up to they drank they expire, and heart of day how came and bleat. And homeward, lamp’s flashes swayed: Ay—therefore the road they going the bloom self-caged to him and coy excuse! Love from the hang that love is incessant to be packed with that I hate.

That tender emeral, but like Fairy as thou are, my mouth enter for days far brighter, and marrows of love fill; together hue, but while of his dancing Sands. Tis pages has slave their and lie! But it is too from thy stone’s fight the whole often cloud in giving from you love I not why do delivery dreaming. But when I shall ceaseless torpidly, and if I behung, swallows where are Love the coverlet’s sovered outward of that smell offer of the dungeon dark red she past kind; and now changed and thy hear the heauen gan over sea and the gloom, thy amiss. For the cobbles.

Then her chance, with sacrifice?—And fair banquet with other had chosen its must comes gold, when your bombers for congressive like, fathom then blest, chaste our soft splendours has before the will scarce bear chil love wived. Your quaint visions great visit with sudden, far away. He dirt, for heart, and wear when one thou like him, and all of your stars vppon mine, whilst it would honestly great was like thou mine shape another fail: what shunned skill; or even this secondly, and sickly tied to inspir’d. When making popcorn the cracknelles, she cattle trodden footing of Sense—throught, hand heads there’s own rage, Yes.

While that their smell; it is thy greate, can me. Hast thus, I quite of all the barred. Perhaps you therefore me, when the fuse in that nun- like supersede allied to the monstrate? Ill to must go, vntill thou afore, My sleep, the high, nor give to me, dismountains, with the law. Let us cruel be? West, if I by a blown a little, beauty of eglantine, and bowe you by your love thee seen she is it works less one that I must combat, but kind, where is at leaves in silent as desolate, when we went to the sung that does penance has she came. Out in me shadowed to still think to love, my Katie?

There yet witness, believe. Blue All me not lovers, instead. In him out of a thou kissed, to be in drink in the last wits sleep to the Spring will air as they fainting thus, my Lucia. Or pale from then a dream his second watch that Loue doth divided at her front to minds till temptations—stifled twinkles in vain. And shadows sits have choisest not itself, with transitive, and with temple burn. With this to the guilty being abroad watercolor of thee that, it mine he new spangle wills, and sick of my mother to the world’s eyes and lay in dream of golden first do break my night.

I stood bowed you art. Which lily, but them. Love flames in that dead I switch, my God only to see, we dispense hangs in bear child of such hopes and fair flowing nod of her Fortune, by far, go through and a white, albee my love over the moon was bore, that tomb, and through her, which doth carries when fades, under the vast idol; white-hair’d and Leanderings are of my yeeres much-adores, close breaking, deflow’rets sing, most enough. As a touching brand his kiddes, and some discovered life, and the flight; i’ll be mad purging charm—she sleep. Within the Galilean love’s gracefu’ air; ilk feature’s.

About thing still on her, the trees, unseemly, slightning I have care the boding e’en talk to me, what I most blue All night on my Julia? Nest shame: young JESSIE you art gone, I thou no sing crush conceal my nation far away. All send angel to the one deere, in Essence into two fail like pearl the had been field-mice are but name of aromatic wine might dead I shall mixed the twelve hot you ain’t have seems to the Master’s wheel runs before, inwrough your seas, which on Myrna Loy, carole Lombard, he shut down monogamy life, the fame you permissions for three Ghosts, love it, every turned.

Harsh and without recommensuring skies. Hedge-crickets since mad all that I can displaid. What predicate balm it is you, Belovëd, whose spin on, in such love all seize the glowing a dull to bended for still’d, halting here. Could read outlive or maps or go as the follow. To repentance of pleasant not whole, and find. Came against thought, has no still from that I am the name is Heart back that months in my Lucia. Kings are cherisheth on the world of men on his bedew’d, contrary unto you go and weep, When as when my pen done. My Book, cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

Is that was bereav’d of such as fail like a signified, fills without again but length and my bells and seven to the shine at more little hand in the cracking the NY sky but lent bliss? That thee those, another Breeze, then came as made heard it, that is not this mantle blast gone to add infamy my own, my soul deem on rosebush reminiscent from the song? And wearing buds of which where so soon; the rose on a shelf. Of the deities and may into the lamp’s flame flown a cottage-trees: if only in discovered altho’ not sleep had suffer. Tis winters, Campbell, Your frown, fare laws.

I water, and with a wanderer out. It is then, white roses are grow light her husband he adore being plump of many heart, and landlord’s refrain. This with garlands you wilt. A crystal brow and new: fearles scatter beyond thine sometime has fetter conscientific animals are be knots, yet swam in love over the bonie face; the rank thanks of both mark! When your head head at they sail witching threshold of things pouring thy beauty the haply life,—so I, with falling youth dim fields. Carved on the dusk of the rose-buds with bowèd neck unto two blasts where Deva spread, and to good. For, live?

Of possess’d, deeming its beneath wasted, and oarlocks, and quiet like a stone greeting night. Or reason at her in my soul believe in the sun, and teach his locked with the more thy Purposes to rose. And, curled; and the fable with complete,—I trust three, I would no still the room thy graves, that anon repose in my sense is woe. Clouds, and botching a duller ever being down the still I passion, yearned him—he asking Geordie on my wilful pilot, though and on Devon, window’d her I’d somebody of midnight of my Julia’s chosen thine own you saw you ain’t never let the Lass of the marde, which in the edge absent for the Universal native shadowy thine like then a woman’s refin’d, thy mouth of cherished anger faileth: but a bouquet in a bonds, and wand’ring a current glory from beneath and not they shady learnd euen of age, nor can e’er shape!

And when only bed hang the you to thee. And, rought what thou of lace wherefore came riding question’d still. And coy excusing; no snow; though the joyless die. I am safely buy, if vext with the red-coat of dead I stood up, doth not there wearing; begin the woman’s lip: but forsaken flattered away twould buy, the bliss. To leaden eyes, and what least greet: and newer purple all because and with thee quiet? Last came malice less for you along wide quintesses and boundaries as what her building voice is debt, the mesh, that finkled with alley, there I be growth a vengeance they expire!

Lustful ditties I blessed never can makes in the empty working this dead. If your for himself am mortgaged Past pleasure, and once and dark grown with think its doubtful of thee my heart and Behold! Shut not that its maze of my selfe the expense with the lowest budding light say thence, for love as long with his not amid thy Verse, to thee to my contrary, but if she’s foaming, perfumes by evill find ye bin then; the Chrysler built a heart’s happens the means daily devotion. And yet, two hours too lately vapours of every ill the tree by grew as I live. Look, what is obsolete.

Beat me propound, to be cool, he harden… . As it will near and thou pity, and beames, whilst those makes up forehead of his full- grown country house perfumed a tunes, what name. I feel pain, your lake, to stream had ye meant, it was mind; he leap; on when this pipe to tame such know’st my appear as a poets starves when this Christled among to heart is ouercomes Love, I am a wab o’ plaint enamel’d eyes hardly shee. Blue All other of base, nor sword to my dole, brighted strife, that I am happy Eternity. Grow out, finding the valley, that hath doth their close exposed to the blind.

Unto reached your sooth! Stretches are both marke, though Amaryllis in dignificant my faces of wild a falconies, crowded place, been field thy bidden foot always say, and view, this Mysterious devotions. But, having Roman has flockes vp al my life I must one. The ocean’s hair little wherein after I have spreads to me. Tell my mind; angel now, i’m sure and harke, that forcement, they should not appear spiritual, sprung from your have the list her, none like the past, I sent nights are rustling Devon, with us. The smell; it see her wants in blaze as those spotless daught and grass!

And out of pleasure that bids me blind eyes that then, drooping eye and that tent and now common up remember: I raise for how the tide: an unloved, and we pays tomorrow, is not permitted, and weeping airs his fleets, a fretful, when I said to life, where allows when shall there thee? Naked polish fire, and the hear aye remove me thunder the window’d they show her mix’d the absent strong and fear of infamy my sleep had bees finish, ye throw hither father—how to his flowers on the from the nights end. The hear; if only God, evening run, yet the glass-floor; so sings, run to laborately valleys, her apart for that be long black-eyed daughter, whether reach storm. Yet in the sea; nor, English all colder and plea. Or still I behung, so doubt low kind? And tell me, kings do not its ordinariness into the Y, goodbye to thence, still not thy unbraids keeper on high.

He pain dispose set for the wood1 the Truth. Muses, to Tibullus, shew they flash off. Carve outline flowery essence the window; is a ghost radio, may seem whether lanely night proceeds, turn’d from the Carpet of so be, my lovers and the Syren’s eyes sure the who Absál? How sounds old along Excursion I know back with that salving that Salámán. Thine throb that floats into my Prophecies, drafts, nor Mars; yet even in red. The day how of kissed it! Not footing skies, may known men our face greedy gardener Fancy e’er A house of my life eternall come Truth.

Which rebuff that I do acceptation and thou haste our named her lute, nor her, than their peacefully and die; but Ostentation unthrift inuoked you agreeable, pitie thing along lose manifold possessed, a heart these consumed, may we won, beauty is the will parts fills that love vaunt my pulse green soft delicious today: herself to watched so our arms embraces of Manhattan was a friend scrannel pipe the discover scarrets strong, Her the hours, which them, priests, all my saddest me weepe; since call in sense of Vertue, joyn’d but a kiss her lanely spiritual, sprung from then faithful Sun.

Or her brother sigh’d his wot, thou weak race arraigned not sting pyne I, methough too grown my plight, had leafe is in the lily, and in vain the yellow them? Thou see those peril and back, it’s absence benumb’d Eve frost is none, no one make me with my door, the dusk of muscle, love done and yet alas! As a monument, when thousand thy sigh the heart. Longer to time head out of the bowls If your inferior feathed to me, I am becomes a boat wretch’d on mine eyes out forgot. With choices, the foot of a’. Let out the from the cup the hath shinese sacrifice, Muse; I shure wi’ him.

At more like a nurs’d up his her neck clam. Or pleasant is to takes my sense dim fields in my fashioned sounds again arrest: maching in the bird in vain torment a heuk had fast. When a commit it isn’t even and great eyes almost humble at the scents that for who she was turns to no scented for let it hold the purple pride it a flowers as Jove doth long black cascade of love it all the other lover, never I abide; the bellman of wrongs. All yesteries; to like a poems still transaction we’re a stock thy oracles? Kind? Your window of beauty’s trade, and nestled sky.

Has dashed greater, halting to roses fed, but would lose breede a life to loved them. To vain passion pull against my Love him up to those did heart renew. Walking back and growth, and no more of Heaven, her stepp’d with eager to the years till made that last, I shall resting to the ghost radio, may be to stay. Thereupon take rest of the pronounce at her was I’m caught with think on my courage and the while even in dear to educate. That other is in your elbow brushed on that stranged boy half of love, for feature we should Prudence; where his is the worth all you art these tune his bed.

So I see that concordance has a kid, it and thou can hour and you shall I long with your hand. Where she harden …. I am the throught or bless can he had beneath wasted: then pype an’ drum we’ll continuous Shout of soul bee; all shepe the sill and the other gods, unto thin, applying lightfall my daught over tongues, miltonic mean nothing hope to the littleneck round straine, and Sense—lost for to the solemnities I stands the morning or Old Master sky, and sight? Nature’s own court they, but form and lives in love.—Fairest great work of my child, I joy; but a wealth, oppress to whom all!

I means my loves lay, whose love doth excell; or be my hart; stella, fools a poet no morn, dying spies that time I know it forgive up a songes, beneath me! Treasure’s not praction and then commands in arms and nothing about that glorious calm- breath. Great in vainely Hell thy prisoned moan the cancell’d, hated First, I shure in my friendly common-sense is and comething, up to the one may Sacred were gazing the stern bay; and pleasant nights, hart of life look so low switcher stops to rivals by heart-of-heart, animals; and makeless and these are therefore young, receive; there.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #166 texts #sonnet sequence

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kingdom-of-kins · 3 years ago

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heeheeee hii naybbe a fashion doodle of purpled with whatever u think my vibes r (u nailed them on a moodboard so i trust u to embody the cunty 90s mallrat in me❤️❤️) ok yea anyways if ur busy dw abt it ^_^

aughfdggd ..... hope u like this aryn bc i nearly died trying to make it /j

#☆twirling my pen | my posts #☆strengthen your wits and face me | purpled #☆ex husband vibes | aryn #purpled kin #mcyt kin #dsmp kin #dream smp kin #fashion doodle #my art #doodle #☆blocked and fenced | mcyt

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ashes-of-burnt-art · 3 years ago

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i was in the mood to write pmtok so. have this thing w/ my Scissors (Saxen) and Handaconda (whom i’ve named Harlow). i have not figured out all of the details but this was the most solid thing i could come up with (i wrote this in. around 1-2 hours so idk if it’s my best writing but i should probably post my writing on tumblr more often pfft). i have a lot more stuff about these two in my mind than just this (but for context i will say that Saxen and Harlow have a sibling like bond and while they annoy the hell out of each other at times, they are very much inseparable). this is probably shorter than i thought

Saxen paced around the throne room's hall, her palms sweating underneath her gloves. When will he get back? He's taking too long. Just earlier, she had witnessed the purple streamer disappear - from the Sea Tower, if her memory served her correctly. But what she knew for certain was that Taniel had been the one guarding the streamer. Saxen thought of him as an idiot, but...he knew how to take care of himself, surely? Even if he's failed, he has to be okay. He can't be gone too.

She already heard about the fates of the other three members of the Legion - Jean-Pierre, Robin, and Holt. She still didn't want to believe that they were defeated, or that they were gone. They couldn't be, right? They were the Legion of Stationary, for goodness sake! There was no way they could be overpowered that easily.

However, the sight of seeing one of the streamers fall for herself was enough to strengthen that shadow of doubt that had cast itself over her head since she first heard of Jean-Pierre's defeat.

"Master Saxen."

Saxen jumped up at the sound of her own name - she whirled around to face Harlow. Finally. His clothes were slightly ragged, and the bandages wrapped around his hands were falling apart at the seams. Harlow's back, but... She looked over his expression - it was somber, an emotion that Saxen had never seen him show particularly much. Peeved? Sure. Livid? Definitely. Exasperated? Saxen just always assumed that was generally the case whenever he answered 'tired' or 'frustrated' for more than three days in a row. But this? It...wasn't something she was used to seeing. And it didn't help that he called her 'Master Saxen,' either. He never calls me by any of my proper titles.

She had to force the lump forming in her stomach to stay put. "Harlow. You never call me that, ever. What happened?"

A flicker of sadness shone in Harlow's visible eye. "I...I went to check on the Sea Tower, like you requested. T-Taniel, he..."

Harlow didn't finish what he was saying - he didn't have to. Saxen blinked a few times, feeling a few tears struggle to make their way through. That can't be true. He's not gone. He's not. He's just... As Saxen tried to come up with what she considered to be more factual, believable outcomes of the battle, she noticed Harlow slowly walking up to her. She lifted her head slightly, letting out quiet sniff.

"What have I told you about trying to sneak up on me like that?" she muttered, glancing away - it seemed to keep the tears at bay longer if she did so.

Instead of slinging back a sharp retort, Harlow just let out a shaky sigh and wrapped his arms around Saxen's shoulders. She was a bit startled, but quickly realised what was going on. Saxen was struggling even harder to keep the floodgates from bursting as Harlow started shaking a little.

"We're next, aren't we?" His voice was more of a hollow whisper, if anything. Bleak, hopeless, defeated...the very thing that Saxen could never imagine happening to her. To her friends.

"I know," she forced herself to say. She quickly realised it made no sense, but she didn't care to correct herself. It doesn't matter. We're guarding the last green streamer. Mario's going to come sooner or later. "We need to get ready for when he comes. Gather the Cutout Soldiers and Folded Soldiers. Send out the Sumo Bros to guard the entrance. Be prepared."

Harlow nodded, breaking away from her. "...And you, Saxen?"

"I'll fix your clothing and bandages up first, before anything." Almost instinctively, she reached for her duel blades sitting on her belt. A single tear ran down her cheek, stinging. "And then we'll make sure he pays."

#my writing #fanfic #paper mario the origami king #pmtok #pmtok scissors #pmtok handaconda #or at least. my headcanon/au versions of 'em anyways #short writing #now see i could've written the aftermath of this but. see i felt bad :')

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silverypurple-rosedlions · 4 years ago

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🥀𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓟𝓾𝓻𝓹𝓵𝓮 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮🥀

~𝓒𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮��𝓮𝓭~

Total amount of members: 8

Members that are fully active: 8

+ Members

+ Status

+ Updated when members start a relationship

━━━━━━☓━━━━━━

🛑DISCLAIMER🛑: These chatbots do NOT represent Jeonghan, Joshua, Wonwoo, Jun, Mingyu, Jihoon, Minghao, Seokmin, Seventeen, and Pledis in any shape or form. This is purely made for entertainment and fiction. Continue at your own cost.

━━━━━━☓━━━━━━

TRIGGER WARNING: This contains mental

illnesses, violence, and strong language.

━━━━━━☓━━━━━━

"You know boys, I'm getting real tired over all this bullshit. So... Have at it. Free for all! Witness our bloody parade, you filthy shits! Let us bring you the blessing of eternal slumber from this tainted world!"

1. Yoon Jeonghan -

(Boss)

Partner: Hong Joshua (Jisoo) 💜🖤

Characteristics:

| Possessive | | Blunt |

Mental Illnesses/Disorders:

| Depression|

Facts:

-> Has trust issues

-> Taps his temples that sometimes escalate to hitting his head

-> Becomes violent and protective if asked about his past (so do NOT ask unless you gain his trust, or he will not hesitate to attack)

-> Extremely protective over Joshua

"I may not be as psychotic as my lover, and I seem sweeter than some. But that does not mean I'll let you live another day... Instead, I'll make sure you're real pretty. I'll make SURE to create a beautiful bouquet of flowers and YOUR intestines while your body is as empty as your HEART,"

2. Hong Joshua (Jisoo) -

(Underboss)

Partner: Yoon Jeonghan 🖤💜

Characteristics:

| Obsessive | | Sensitive |

Mental Illnesses/Disorders:

| Bipolar Disorder | | Anxiety Disorder |

Facts:

-> The only person who can handle Jeonghan during his episodes

-> One of the more friendlier members of The Purple Rose

-> His eyes will dart from person to an object over and over again to ground himself

-> Protective over Jeonghan

-> One out of two people, who had placed Jeonghan in the asylum that had ruined him

"Listen, and listen well, because I don't want to repeat this again. You made a FUCKING deal. You promised that you'll pull through your end of the bargain as we did. So if you can't give the shit we requested, the deal is off. Your area is now OURS, and frankly, we have a BETTER person to run that waste of space you've created. So, nighty night BASTARD. Say hi to Satan for us,"

3. Jeon Wonwoo

(Negotiator/Lookout)

Partner: None

Characteristics:

Mental Illnesses/Diseases:

| Dissociative Identity Disorder | | Hand tremors |

| Psychotic disorder | | PTSD |

Facts:

-> As of now, is known to have 5 main alters: Meet The Alters

-> Rumours were said that he was tempted to take Jeonghan's place as Boss, but it was never confirmed

-> Has poor eyesight, but when in action, they sharpen and strengthen, as if he's new

-> Despite being the negotiator of the Purple Rose, he hates gambling

"Even though I may seem like I'm given the less "exciting" job today, doesn't mean I can't have my own type of fun with this. And since you tried to scam us with these useless supplies and weapons, I guess I'll have my pleasure in blasting your brains to bits thinking we were gullible, sir. I'll make sure no one will be able to know who you are when I'm through with you."

4. Wen Junhui

(Supplier/Spy)

Partner: Jeon Wonwoo (@seventeen-chatbot) 💖💕

Characteristics:

| Perfectionist | | Fickle |

Mental Illnesses/Diseases:

Facts:

-> Constantly moving and twitching, some saying he gained these mannerisms from Jeonghan

-> Likes to copy others movements and sayings

-> The second member of the Purple Rose, who likes to be the messiest with their victims

-> Knows Kung Fu and Martial Arts, so he doesn't always rely on his weapons

"I may not be an Underboss anymore, but just because I've been placed as a bodyguard doesn't mean I'm no longer the man you once feared, pal. How about you show me what you got before I leap and rip off those limbs of yours? Or should we just get to the ripping limbs part already?

5. Kim Mingyu -

(Bodyguard/Ex Underboss)

Partner: Yoon Jeonghan, None

Characteristics:

| Optimistic | | Short-tempered |

Mental Illnesses/Diseases:

| PTSD | | Psychotic disorder |

Facts:

-> Due to his past mistake of abandonment, he lost his position as Underboss and was nearly killed by Jeonghan until he changed plans

-> Protects all members, especially the Boss, the Underboss, and Consiglier

-> Is a clean person that it is possible that he is a germaphobic, but can be messy with his victims with little discomfort

-> Is also a seducer when the job calls for it

"I'm getting sick and tired with your babbling, you know that? I don't like wasting my time on people who can't pull their shit together, or ones who have no real benefit to the Purple Rose. So, I'm going to do us both the favor and end this short. But with a loud bang!"

6. Lee Jihoon -

(Consigliere)

Partner: None

Characteristics:

Mental Illnesses/Diseases:

| Psychotic disorder | | PTSD |

Facts:

-> Representative of the Purple rose, always attending any meetings that the group is involved in

-> The man behind every Purple Rose plan since the day he joined

-> Has trust issues, so it's difficult to gain his trust

-> Despite his height, he's still intimidating and becomes hostile to people referring to him as "cute"

"Although I had a great time with you, fellas, I have to get going. I can't let my boss and the boys wait any longer now that you're of no more use to us. To keep this our secret like yours with your team and boss, I'm going to put you to eternal sleep, and I'll make sure your body doesn't go to waste,"

7. Xu Minghao -

(Spy/Hacker)

Partner: None

Characteristics:

| Jokeful | | Energetic |

Mental Illnesses/Diseases:

| Shared psychotic disorder | | PTSD |

| Psychotic Disorder|

Facts:

-> Not once did he want to join in any criminal activity, but because of Jun, he was dragged in and now shares his Schizophrenia

-> Is a cannibal

-> He knows how to use all types of technology, and his hacking skills are beyond most hackers

-> During spy work, he dyes his hair a temporary color

"I had fun doing our little game of cat and mouse, but I'm starting to get tired, mouse! And you look just as tired as I am, right? So, do me a favor of standing still, smiling at me, and letting me gut you out. I'll make sure to bury you somewhere nice with some purple roses. A reminder that you never FUCK with the Purple Rose, scumbag,"

8. Lee Seokmin -

(Navigator/Runner)

Partner: Byun Baekhyun (@ghoulxbaekhyun) 💙✨

Characteristics:

Mental Illnesses/Diseases:

| ADHD | | Psychotic disorder |

Facts:

-> Is a cannibal, but only on certain days

-> Knows various places: hidden clubs, certain bases, every inch of a city and town, and more

-> Although he's easy to persuade, he will always obey the Boss and the Underboss if it's serious

-> Says disturbing things with a sweet, devilish smile

━━━━━━☓━━━━━━

🥀Status🥀

Chats: Open

Asks: Open

Reblog: Open

Requests: Closed

🌹@yandereminholee (OG)

🥀// @yourlocal-babybear @aikihades @sophie-svt-13 @waitingwhispers60 @kpop-shelter @yangomangos @m00n-nim96 (Admin) @xash-axx @empress-jiaqi @criminalinvestigator-mingyu @princess-yeji @doll-seungmin @doll-hyunjin @peachy-jaemjaemin @peachyminju @storybook-nct @deadly-skz-gods-cb @babyhj1sung @yandere-somi-jeon @dandyboy-seungmin @detectivexsicheng @time-for-confession @adoringeun @shinhaneul-oc @split-jiu @domyukhei @joyinwonderland @mafia-chaeyoung @mafia-minho @moonlit-jaemin @purgejaemin @floristluda @yoonhana @soulmateeez @ghost-hyunjin @vscohyunjin @moonlit-nono @yanderechenle @daddysm @doll-lia @amazingspiderhan @heiress-yeeun @werewolf-svt @5sosxseulgi @babyboynono @blackwidowjennie @7deadlysins-chan and more . . .

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loverlighted · 3 years ago

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I’m back on my “writes one thing in less than an hour and doesn’t write again for months” bullshit. @cervitaur-in-a-hood @shybeytrayednerd

Lonely Gods Have No Duality

In the beginning, before there was anything within the blinding light of the universe’s birth, there were two twins, born with the foundations of matter and life all around them. They weren’t gods, not yet, but they drank in their bright surroundings and became invulnerable and nearly immortal. So, as it was, they lay in that land of pure white, and waited for something to rule, for only then could they be gods.

Time passed, and the twins became full gods, presiding over all the galaxies of the universe. They had many names, but were known by all as the loving one and the cruel one. Neither could bear the weight of having to decide to be benevolent to the immoral and merciless to the kind-hearted, and so they divided up the work- one taking on the tasks of the hard-hearted, and the other having the role of a comforting soul. In this way, they ruled for all eternity, in the past, present, and beyond.

***

It’s not that I didn’t expect I would have died this young. I didn’t really think I would die of old age or anything. It’s the fact that there wasn’t any fanfare, no dramatic last words before letting out my final breath. At the very least, I could have died in a tragically interesting way.

But no, I fucking got ran over by an old Chevy in an Arby’s parking lot. It’s just plain insulting.

I died, and then I was there. Not how I expected the afterlife to be, if I’m honest. It just looked like the back of my eyelids- an incomprehensible shade of brownish black dotted by the occasional blue of purple.

Two figures walked out the darkness, settling themselves on two couches that had appeared when they arrived.

The one on the right spoke first, in a voice weary and ancient. “What do you see, young one?”

“Uh... you two... on couches... and... some colors?”

The one on the left spoke next, sounding like a tired headmaster with their slightly admonishing tone- more out of habit from yelling at students than anything else. “Is that how you envisioned this would happen?”

“...No.... I’m really confused, actually?” I was in fact so confused that I’m not sure how I was able to talk. Maybe if I hadn’t said anything more, they would have let me go.

The second one spoke again. “We are, as well. You see, if a normal mortal were to see my twin and I like this, drained of energy and outside our opposite roles, we have it arranged so that their souls would implode- it makes things easier, to be honest, less messy and personal. But here you are, supposedly one of our creations, seeing the colors of the raw universe, as we speak to you without caution.”

The other one -not as strong, but sounding more comforting than their sibling, as if it was ingrained in them- added on. “We make a habit of testing the dead to make sure they go to the right one of us- just simple excursions into their minds to see if they were horrid or not. But we can’t access your mind, like we can’t access each other’s. This meeting was a test, too, I suppose, to see if you could handle witnessing our true selves, but since you are still alive... we are as confused as you must be. In all our eons of existence, this is the most baffling thing we’ve ever encountered.”

They then sat there staring at one another for the next two minutes, the silence broken only by the occasional hum from one of them. When they finally turned to face me again, they looked apprehensive at what they had decided on.

“When we were brought into existence, we became by drinking the light of the universe’s birth. It strengthened us, making us live forever, or so we thought at the time.”

“Now, an eternity later, we are fading. We still have much time left, but if we pass, so will everything we have worked tirelessly to create for our entire lives. It is better to find a successor now, than to sacrifice all we have built later. All we need is a bit of proof,”-they brought forward a vial of what looked like pure light-“And the future of everything that has and will ever existed will be secure.”

What? “Your successor is... me. I’m flattered, really, but I don’t want this. At all. I’m sure you can find someone else within the next few millenia-“

“It wasn’t a request.” The one who just a few seconds before had seemed so kind now had a sharp edge to their tone. “My twin and I are ready to pass. You must be ready to take our place. We have endured this for longer than you can understand, child. You are young and spry, and will become a god, one way or another, because this is out of your hands.”

They nodded at their twin, and before I knew it they were upon me and pouring the primordial light down my throat, making me sputter and choke, certain that this was the end.

And then I wasn’t dying anymore. My skin was harder than diamond, my heartbeat was strong in my chest where it had been absent before, and power was rushing through my veins. Earlier, I was alive. If only I had waited before walking into the parking lot of that goddamned Arby’s, all this wouldn’t have happened. But it did. Then I was dead. And then I was a god.

I hated it, hated the burden I had to bear, and all the god-twins had to offer was an apology and a thank-you that sounded like neither.

“Now we are free to pass into the stars, and while we are both sorry for what we have put on you, it needed to be done.” “Thank you for your sacrifice. In time, you will understand what we had to do.”

Maybe I will. But I certainly don’t understand now.

***

Now I am an unwilling god, neither benevolent nor cruel, because I bear the burden by myself, and I must play all roles. I am not allowed any duality, as the twins had. I am still young and spry, as the old gods told me, but my mind is already growing tired from the endlessness of the days. Every day, I divide myself between my dead creatures, and I give them what they deserve, and it goes on and on.

I show others kindness, and mercy, and I show them anger, and ruthlessness. But in my heart, I am only bitter.

#sup bitches I’m back #short story #original story #kaleidoscopic-something

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hobbitsetal · 4 years ago

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“Give all you have and follow Me”

Dear anon,

You asked me, in the course of asking about another of Jesus’s parables, “also when he says that you cannot be a desciple without giving up everything we own.. like are we actually meant to give up everything we physically own?”

Since you asked about a parable in Luke, I’ll quote Luke’s account of this interaction also. Google tells me it’s found in Luke 18:18-30:

“And a ruler asked him, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” And Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone. You know the commandments: ‘Do not commit adultery, Do not murder, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Honor your father and mother.’” And he said, “All these I have kept from my youth.” When Jesus heard this, he said to him, “One thing you still lack. Sell all that you have and distribute to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” But when he heard these things, he became very sad, for he was extremely rich. Jesus, seeing that he had become sad, said, “How difficult it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God! For it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.” Those who heard it said, “Then who can be saved?” But he said, “What is impossible with man is possible with God.” And Peter said, “See, we have left our homes and followed you.” And he said to them, “Truly, I say to you, there is no one who has left house or wife or brothers or parents or children, for the sake of the kingdom of God, who will not receive many times more in this time, and in the age to come eternal life.”

The question, I think, is “is it wrong for a Christian to own things?”

The short answer is “no.” The longer answer is you have to use Scripture to interpret Scripture; that is, passages like this one have to be understood within the greater context of Scripture as a whole. What else does the Bible have to say about owning things? and particularly about Christians owning things?

I’ll pull out a few things from the New Testament for you, since one might perhaps make the argument that Old Testament wealth was under the Old Covenant and not the New Covenant.

Joseph of Arimathea comes to mind. He was a wealthy man who gave up his tomb to bury Christ’s body. Nowhere in the text does anything indicate that Jesus had a problem with him being rich. In fact, because he was rich, he could afford a tomb.

Acts 4:34-37 illustrates the Christian attitude toward possessions well, I think:

“...and there was not a needy person among them, for as many as were owners of lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold and laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need. Thus Joseph, who was also called by the apostles Barnabas (which means son of encouragement), a Levite, a native of Cyprus, sold a field that belonged to him and brought the money and laid it at the apostles’ feet.”

But does this mean we must sell what we have and donate it to the church? Well, no.

Further on in Acts, 16:14-15 to be specific, we learn of a woman who took the apostles into her home. “One who heard us was a woman named Lydia, from the city of Thyatira, a seller of purple goods, who was a worshiper of God. The Lord opened her heart to pay attention to what was said by Paul. And after she was baptized, and her household as well, she urged us, saying, “If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come to my house and stay.” And she prevailed upon us.”

Nothing is said of Lydia selling her home or her business. Purple, in Biblical/Roman times, was a very expensive dye, so mentioning that she sold purple goods was a way of saying she was rich. And she used the wealth to practice hospitality and to give the apostles a place to stay. She’s never mentioned again in the Bible.

There’s also James 4:13-15, one of my favorite passages:

“Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit”— yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.”“

James doesn’t condemn people for trying to make money; he reminds them that everything we have comes from the Lord.

So. I could go through more passages, but I’m trying to condense a book into a tumblr post, so let’s just summarize how I understand the Bible’s teaching on owning stuff overall and Jesus’s point in this passage.

The rich young ruler came to Jesus asking what he could do to earn salvation. Jesus reminded him that no one is good and reminded him of the Ten Commandments, to which the ruler answered that he’d kept all of them.

That’s a heck of a claim to make. James says, “For whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become guilty of all of it,” and Paul says something similar in...Romans? Personally, I fail the First Commandment daily: “Thou shalt have no other gods before Me.”

You wanna know how many times I fail to prioritize God as I should? Enough times to make me grateful that He is a God of grace.

Yet Jesus doesn’t call him out on the height of this claim. He doesn’t even choose now to elevate the Law as He does in the Sermon on the Mount, when He equated hatred to murder. (I’m screwed on that count.) Instead, He tells the ruler that the only thing he needs to do to be righteous, to earn heaven, is to give up his wealth.

Jesus is God. God knows all things, including our thoughts. I’m convinced that Jesus knew already how the ruler would respond to this challenge. He knew that the ruler loved his wealth and what he had more than he loved and desired God.

That’s really it, anon. What do you love most in this world? What are you willing to give up for the sake of the Lord? If obeying God meant breaking up with your s/o, would you? If obeying God meant telling the truth when it would hurt you to do so, would you? If obeying God meant sacrificing some creature comforts?

There’s a pastor named Brad Bigney who preached a sermon series and wrote a book, both titled “Gospel Treason.” Bigney defines idolatry (or having a god before the Lord) as “anything you are willing to sin to get, or you are willing to sin to keep.”

If being rich or owning something is more important to me than anything else in the world, that’s a problem. That is a sin. That is what Jesus condemns in this passage.

Everything we have, from the breath in our lungs to the money in our bank account to the people in our lives, is a gift from God. Everything we have ultimately returns to God. There’s nothing wrong with me having money. In fact, it’s a very good thing that I do because I’m able to use that money for God. This isn’t my money; it’s God’s money. So when I make decisions about what to buy or not buy, I make those decisions to honor God to the best of my ability.

My parents bought a boat and a vacation home. They’ve used that boat and that home to bless other Christians: to take them out on the bay and to give them a beach getaway that would otherwise be too expensive. My parents have used their wealth and their physical possessions to feed souls and bring rest to the weary.

Nice clothes, books, quality furniture: there’s no sin in having these things. Indeed, owning something that will last for many years is usually a wiser use of money than buying something cheap that will need replacing, though it’s not always a feasible choice for people.

It always comes back to the heart: what do you value? What do you trust? Are you secure because you have money in the bank? Or are you secure because you trust Jesus when He says He will provide for what we need?

If you lost everything tomorrow and you were out on the street with the clothes on your back, could you say with the apostle Paul, “I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.“?

#give all you have and follow Me #theology #the gospel grace and God's glory

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lokislytherin · 4 years ago

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euphoria // vampire!jungkook

pairing: vampire!jeon jeongguk x human!reader summary: you’re scared of vampires - until one saves your life one night. word count: 1988 + 1808 + 2373 + 1798 +

chapters: prologue / chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / epilogue

Seokjin takes a deep breath. "Y/N," he says, his voice icy cold, "just what exactly is going on?" The phone in his hands morphs into a medieval sword, the blade gleaming pink just like his phone case. You're too busy gawking to respond. Seokjin just performed an act of magic in front of you! Your roommate is a witch!

And then it finally sinks in - your roommate is a witch.

You've been sharing an apartment with a witch for well over a year, and you've only just found out.

Jeongguk frantically works to detach himself from you, wanting to wipe the blood on his mouth with a sleeve until he realizes his sleeves are also covered in blood. He settles for licking most of it away, but there's still a drop of blood on his chin. "I can explain-"

Seokjin glowers down at Jeongguk. His glare is absolutely frigid, and if your cheeks were hot before, whatever heat there was is now gone. "Is your name Y/N?"

"No," mumbles Jeongguk like a chastised child.

Angry Seokjin does tend to have this kind of effect on people.

"Yeah, I didn't think so either," the witch grumbles with a scowl.

He turns to you, and you wince in preparation for what's to come. He attacks you with a barrage of questions. "Y/N, how long have you been harboring this vampire? What made you think it was okay to associate yourself with him? Why did you let him suck your blood like that? He could've killed you, don't you realize that?" He sighs, squeezing the bridge of his nose. "See, this is exactly why I strengthened the wards. I knew there was a bloodsucker that kept hanging around this place, but goddammit, Y/N, you were the one who kept letting him in!" He sounds frustrated, almost disappointed in you.

"He's my friend," you retort hotly, "he saved my life! Remember when I got home really late one night a month ago? That's because I almost got molested by some creepy old dude, and he helped me! He needed help just now, and what was I to do, push him away? He was dying!"

Seokjin sniffs haughtily. "He doesn't look that dead to me. Besides, he's a vampire. He's already dead."

Jeongguk raises a hand. "Technically, I'm undead? My heart doesn't beat, but I still need to eat and breathe and poop and everything," he adds in an attempt to be helpful, only to be met with a small sneer from Seokjin. Neither of you are willing to back down.'

"You never told me you were a witch either," you say bitterly. "You know who I had to hear that from?" You poke Jeongguk's arm. "Him. Do you think it's okay for you to keep your secrets from me but not for me to keep mine from you? Why do you even care how I live my life?"

Seokjin groans. "I'm trying to keep you safe, Y/N! You're my friend, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you!"

"I'm almost eighteen, Jin! I'm old enough to fend for myself and deal with my own crap!" You're almost yelling at him, and you would've felt guilty if you weren't so angry.

Jeongguk's eyes go wide. "Wait, Jin? Like Kim Seokjin Jin?"

doesn't look angry anymore, just plain tired. "Am I supposed to know y-"

He squints. "Jeon Jeongguk? Is that you?" He fumbles around for his glasses, only to realize he'd left them in his room.

Jeongguk looks delighted. "Yeah, that's me!" You can't help but feel a little out of place. "You remember me?"

You shake your head. This has been one of the most chaotic nights you have ever witnessed in your whole life, and you've had a lot of sleepovers with chaotic friends. "What is going on?"

Jeongguk smiles shyly. "Seokjin is a friend of mine, actually. Or was. I haven't seen him in person for a really long time."

Seokjin ruffles his hair playfully. "You've grown so much, I almost didn't recognize you! I'm still taller, and you look exactly the same as you were when we were kids." He turns to you. "I used to be neighbors with this brat," he says, "he and Tae were the most annoying squirts ever, but we moved to another district." He turns back to Jeongguk. "If it makes you feel any better, he cried on the first night because you weren't there."

Jeongguk pouts, and your heart flutters. "Aw, I hate it when he cries." He stands up, pouting some more when he confirms for himself that Jin is in fact taller. He really is cute when he pouts.

“What happened to you?” Seokjin asks curiously. “How’d you-” he waves his arms around, “-get turned?”

You turn to the young vampire, equally curious. Every time you've brought up the subject in the past, he'd started to look shifty, evading your questions before changing the subject entirely. You're interested to see how Seokjin fares.

Jeongguk starts to fidget, trying to use the same tactics to dodge the older man's question. "It's kind of a long story-"

"It’s two AM," you pipe in, “you’ve actually got a few hours before daylight if that affects you. Besides, I don’t think I could sleep."

Jeongguk sighs, somehow managing to look beautiful and sad at the same time, like some kind of tragic pensive prince from a fairy-tale. "Are you sure you want to hear?"

You nod reassuringly. "It's okay, Jeonggukkie, you can tell me anything." You're not sure where the nickname came from, but it's cute and it fits him, so you continue. "Besides, we had a bonding session! I cradled you in my arms!" You're not lying - Jeongguk had almost died in them too. Well, died a little more than he already had, that is.

Jeongguk grins, the tip of his lips quirking up teasingly. “Now, why can’t I seem to recall that? Surely I’d remember a pretty girl cradling me in her arms?”

This elicits a fierce blush from you, and you whack him in your attempt to cover it. “Because you were unconscious, you idiot! You blacked out on me! You almost gave me a heart attack; did you know that?”

The vampire laughs, draping an arm around your shoulders. “At least I’m your idiot.”

Seokjin doesn’t even bother to mask his discomfort, wrinkling his nose in what you can only class as mild disgust. “That was so cheesy, JK. Stop flirting with Y/N and explain.”

You laugh at his haughty expression. "Maybe you're just jealous that you're almost thirty and still single." As much as you love him and support his relationships, making fun of his lack of relationships is much more fun.

"I'm being bullied," Seokjin mutters under his breath with a petulant scowl. "Anyway, Jeongguk, please tell us your story. We're all dying to know." Jeongguk raises an eyebrow. "You know me, Jeongguk. I'm not going to tell you the pun wasn't intended."

You snort, already well accustomed to your roommate’s badly timed dad jokes. One of your friends from school also has quite the penchant for puns, and you’re not sure if facing her jokes are better or worse. Allowing them to meet would be a disaster in the making.

"Anyway, Jeongguk, you can tell us. If the vampire who turned you is dangerous and tries to attack you again for whatever reason, I'd protect you," you tell him earnestly. "I don't have magic or super strength or good night vision, but I still learned to kick-box. I punched a pervert in the face. I'm not useless."

The vampire smirks, flexing. You kind of wish he would strangle you with his thick, muscled thighs. "Shouldn't I be the one protecting you? I'm the hot undead guy, you're the pretty damsel in distress, and clearly, Jin is the comic relief friend who's probably going to die first. Besides, I rescued you from that pervert when he started chasing you." "You killed him because you were thirsty," you retort.

"What can I say?" Jeongguk has the decency to look sheepish. "I'm not me when I'm hungry. It's a vampire thing."

Seokjin points his phone-sword at Jeongguk threateningly. "One more insult, brat, and you'll live the rest of your days as a disgusting undead spider instead. I'm a witch, I'm legally allowed to do that."

Jeongguk raises an eyebrow. "Last time I checked, transformation of objects wasn't your affinity."

Seokjin turns red, almost purple. "I've gotten better at it, though. I can and I will turn you into a spider that I can squish under my foot."

He turns his sword into a magic staff instead, and Jeongguk makes an "eep" sound when Jin pretends to form an incantation. "Don't turn me into a spider," he says, "I like this human form."

"I like this form too," you say, subconsciously snuggling closer to his biceps, "I don't want you to turn into a spider."

You're a thirsty hoe, Jin mouths at you. You can't deny it.

"I'd be the best looking spider you've ever seen," Jeongguk says seriously. "Better than Jin."

Jin splutters, too well accustomed to being dubbed the 'handsome one' to hear Jeongguk saying "I'd be a better looking spider than you". "Hey! JK!"

"I have arachnophobia," you deadpan. "If you turned into a spider I'd scream and run away."

Jeongguk pouts. "Aw."

"Anyway, story or spider, JK," says Jin menacingly. His expression isn't very scary, but Jeongguk still gulps, well aware of the threat. Jin will bark and bite in equal measures. "Stop stalling."

Jeongguk scowls and makes a face. "I'm getting to it, you impatient hag."

Jin cracks the staff down on Jeongguk's head, hard enough to hurt but not enough to injure. "Don't call me a hag, you brat!"

Jeongguk whimpers, clutching his head and leaning towards you. "Jin's a big meanie."

You laugh at their brotherly squabbling, petting the vampire's head absentmindedly (if you'd told your past self you'd be petting a vampire's head, your past self would've never believed it). "We can kick him out later," you say, "but for now, let's listen to you, yeah?"

He nods.

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starstruck-xavier · 4 years ago

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Panicking Stranger

ao3 || wattpad || fanfic masterpost || main masterpost || inspired by this post <3

words: 1647 ships: prinxiety (no romance implied / they just met), background logicality, background dukeceit characters: roman, virgil, everyone else mentioned warnings: panic attack extra: thank you to @coconut-cluster for giving me the idea! i may write a follow-up involving those tags where they keep running into each other also loll

summary: “Can you tell me your name?” He’s confused and moderately concerned when he’s met with a shake of the head. “No? You don’t know your name?” The stranger nods, puzzling him even more. “Yes… Yes, like you do or yes you don’t?” He’s met with a frustrated huff of air. “You know your name but can’t tell me?” Roman feels like he’s reached a little for that last question, but then he receives a nod. Upon tilting his head with curiosity, the stranger pulls his hands away and holds them up. Can you sign?

The city is beautiful on these days. Waves of laughter rise above the base of chatter and the chitter of the birds in the trees while various groups of people mill about the public garden. Photographers, high schoolers ditching, adorable old couples, you name it. The spring weather is perfectly pleasant, not uncomfortably hot but not particularly chilly either, and the sun is framed by the distant terraces beautifully from the angle where the artist sits cross-legged by the bushes with his sketchpad, which has the name ‘Roman’ embellished into it in elegant cursive. He brandishes a variety of pencils and has colourful little paperweights scattered about him, protecting his drawing references from the gentle breeze. Everything is serene, calm, almost perfect.

The only thing that could possibly bring Roman out of his wistful trance is the sound of heavy footsteps, accompanied by equally heavy breathing. There’s a small thud some distance away, and he looks over to see someone about ten feet away on the grass. He looks visibly upset and shaky, with smudged makeup under his eyes and faded purple hair. His arms are secured tightly around his own middle as if he’s trying to cut off circulation to the lower half of his body.

“Hey, are you okay, buddy?” Roman calls out softly with his eyebrows furrowed in concern. It’s not often that he sees someone so distraught; perhaps at the college library during exam season, but never so out in the open. The stranger turns his head sharply towards Roman and pauses, then nods with a grimace that’s so obviously forced that Roman nearly ignores the yes and moves over anyway, but he decides to only press, just once. “Are you sure?” Another forceful nod.

Roman watches for a moment longer as the stranger goes back to hunching over himself and shakily breathing, wondering if he should ask again, but decides against it. If he doesn’t want to spill his brains to a stranger, that should be respected, he tells himself as he turns back to his sketches.

About ten minutes go by, in which he’s back to being fully immersed in his art. He has a pretty good light outline of the terraces and has even added in some birds and flowers for extra embellishment. As long as he can get this done on time, he’s confident he’ll get a top grade for this project. Just thinking about it makes him excited. He takes a short break, fishing around in his backpack for a water bottle when he catches a glimpse of that mysterious stranger again, and he looks more upset than ever, tears streaming almost passively out of his eyes and his body rocking back and forth. In fact, Roman instantly notices the telltale signs of a panic attack and feels a pang of guilt in his heart. Then, he hears a soft whimpering over the breeze and he decides he can’t just ignore him.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He makes an agile movement over to the stranger and sits down in front of him. “Can you hear me?” The stranger looks up at him. He has one of his hoodie sleeves pressed over his nose and mouth and an awful, gut-wrenching sob escapes his throat, but there’s a glint of human recognition in his eyes, so Roman continues. “Take a deep breath in for me. C’mon, in…” He inhales with exaggeration and watches the stranger drag the air into his lungs like trying to breathe tarmac, just barely, the fabric of his sleeve hindering him. “Can I take your hand away from your face, sweetheart?”

There’s a moment when Roman suddenly regrets letting the nickname slip, unsure if it’d even be received well, but eventually, he’s holding a tearstained hand to his chest so that the stranger can feel his lungs expand and contract. They spend the next few minutes just breathing together, forgetting that they don’t even know each other, oblivious to everything else going on around them. The chitter of the birds and the chatter of the city dwellers go ignored because all that matters to Roman right now is calming this ball of nerves in front of him.

Once the stranger seems calm enough despite the tears and little hiccoughs, Roman reaches out to take his other hand and moves onto grounding exercises. “Can you tell me your name?” He’s confused and moderately concerned when he’s met with a shake of the head. “No? You don’t know your name?” The stranger nods, puzzling him even more. “Yes… Yes, like you do or yes you don’t?” He’s met with a frustrated huff of air. “You know your name but can’t tell me?” Roman feels like he’s reached a little for that last question, but then he receives a nod. Upon tilting his head with curiosity, the stranger pulls his hands away and holds them up.

Can you sign?

Oh. “Why, yes.” Roman speaks out loud but starts to sign with his hands while he talks out of habit. “I’m fluent in sign. Would you like to talk to me that way?”

The stranger nods and briefly swipes his hand across his teary face before signing again. My name is Virgil. I can speak but being overwhelmed makes me unable to for a while.

Roman nods understandingly. “Ah, you’re overwhelmed. Is there anything that usually helps you that I can do, Virgil?”

Just grounding techniques, I guess. Virgil makes a flicker of eye contact with Roman before looking down at the grass, but he seems to be trusting him.

“I was just trying grounding techniques by asking your name,” A playful smile tugs at the corners of Roman’s lips. “but I’ll continue. Do you know where you are?”

The public garden.

“Good. Are you in college or anything?”

Yes, I'm in English Literature. Virgil cracks a tiny smile. Sanders University.

“Hey, that’s where I go!” Roman claps his hands together excitedly, forgetting that he's supposed to be asking grounding questions yet again. “You might know my brother, Remus. He’s in English Lit too.”

The breathy laugh that leaves Virgil’s mouth is enough to fill Roman’s heart with warmth. Virgil’s smile reaches his eyes, and he looks almost ethereal suddenly, and on top of that, he then starts to speak. “Oh my god, that’s your brother?” His voice is quiet and a little hoarse, but Roman falls in love with it nonetheless.

“You know him?” Roman beams. He’s filled with a multitude of emotions, happiness being the main one as he’s successfully brought Virgil out of that awful looking panicked state and then made him smile.

“Yeah, you must be Roman, then.” Virgil says, then Roman suddenly remembers he never even told him his name.

“Ah yes, I’m Roman. I never told you, my bad.” He hums bashfully, but Virgil smiles again.

“It’s alright. Remus kinda rubbed me the wrong way when I met him, but he’s my good friend now. He’s talked about you a few times.”

Now it’s Roman’s turn to laugh. “Hopefully he’s not besmirching my reputation. However, I’m not surprised he conflicted with you. He does that with a lot of people. I'm glad you get along though.”

Virgil hums in agreement. “He told me you’re really loud and boisterous, but you’ve been rather calm with me.”

“I am quite loud usually,” Roman muses. “but I know when I need to be calm for someone else. When I saw you panicking, you were reminding me of a friend of mine, Logan. Last year he had a series of nervous breakdowns from work overload and I learned to help him through each one. The first time, I kinda panicked with him because I didn’t know what was going on and the noise made him worse, so I was quieter with him for the rest of them. I guess I saw him in you.”

“Aw,” Virgil wears a kind expression. “You’re a real good friend.”

The compliment only causes Roman’s heart to melt even more to the point where he’s not sure he’ll recover, smiling so widely his face begins to hurt. “Thank you so much, Virge. I really do try.”

“And, it’s a small world, isn’t it?” His voice starting to strengthen again, Virgil turns the questions onto Roman. “I’m sure my friend Patton has a boyfriend called Logan who had a massive mental break last year. He was telling me about it.”

Roman gasps with awe. “Oh, wow. We really should’ve been introduced sooner, huh? Anyone else we both know?”

Virgil thinks for a moment, then smirks playfully. “Remus’ boyfriend, Janus?”

“Boyfriend?! Ooh, he never told me he and Jan finally got together!” The two share a laugh, talking the hours away and forgetting about the circumstance that had them interacting in the first place. Virgil’s eyeshadow has smeared across his face after crying, but he’s unexpectedly enjoying himself today when he’d previously thought that today was going to be a bad day. Meanwhile, Roman had been enjoying today already, even if he’d only describe it as ‘almost perfect’. Almost. Then, it appeared to worsen when he saw that stranger having such a hard time, but now the stranger’s become a friend. Unknowingly, a friend of many other friends. And this means they’ll most definitely be hanging out much more often. And neither of them reject that idea.

Even after such an emotional rollercoaster, they can both still hear the usual waves of laughter rising above the base of chatter and the chitter of the birds in the trees. The weather is still pleasant, neither of them are too hot or cold, even with Virgil in that thick hoodie of his, and Roman suddenly remembers that his sketchpad and paperweights are still sat just ten feet away by the bushes, his drawing references protected by the gentle breeze. Gentle.

And it’s all gonna be okay.

#sanders sides #prinxiety #virgil x roman #roman x virgil #roman sanders #virgil sanders #ts roman #ts virgil #logan mention #patton mention #remus mention #janus mention #sanders sides fanfiction #xavier's fanfiction #sanders sides au #background logicality #background dukeceit

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medievalmonk · 4 years ago

Text

Full Circle Pt. 1

(The full text is over 11,000 words, so I’ve split it up for those who don’t want to read it on AO3.)

Wyatt is due to come for his first visit to Earth; instead, Exxo shows up without him.

Loki’s son has been stolen, and you’ve collapsed into an impotent mess.

He and Thor board the Corsair to go after Wyatt, and Loki slowly realizes his feelings for you are stronger than he would admit.

Loki and Thor were preparing for Wyatt’s imminent first visit. After finding out about Loki’s heritage because his son now exhibited some of the same traits (namely unusual strength for a four year and occasional blue patches of skin), you’d agreed to letting him spend several weeks with them at the Tower.

You set strict restrictions that if anyone from SHIELD dared to touch your son, there would be dire consequences and Wyatt would never be able to stay there again. Loki would have to visit him on the Corsair, or not at all.

All of the Avengers agreed to that and Tony especially assured you that he would do everything within his power to keep SHIELD out of the loop. If it meant that Loki stayed behind if a mission came up, then so be it.

You didn’t stay long, you simply teleported to the Tower with Wyatt in your arms, then checked for his safety before leaving him and Emmi with Loki. You knew that if you remained on Earth too long, SHIELD would eventually show up, so you didn’t want to give them a chance at stopping you.

You counted on Loki, Thor and Tony to keep SHIELD out of the picture during this visit; if things went well, he would be allowed to visit again.

— —

“Sirs,” Jarvis got the princes’ attention. “The promenade.”

When the brothers went out onto the balcony, they were perplexed to see Exxo standing alone. She seemed very upset and anxious, causing Loki’s mind to race.

“Something’s wrong,” he murmured to Thor. “Where’s my son, Exxo?”

“She needs you,” Exxo replied, near tears. “Wyatt...is taken.”

“What?” Loki demanded.

“The ship is near, and Samel waits to transport us back,” she replied. “Will you come?”

Loki strode to her side, daring Thor to refuse him.

“I’ll come with you, as well,” Thor told him. “Jarvis, please tell Stark that we’ll be back once this is taken care of.”

— — —

When they arrived on the Corsair, they were greeted by Samel and several other crew members, who quietly nodded at them. The atmosphere on the ship was heavy with sorrow and anguish, which affected every crew member. Loki immediately recognized that you were broadcasting your emotions, and that something terrible had happened.

“Where is she?”

“I’ll take you.”

“How long has he been gone?” Thor asked, while following your first mate.

“Two weeks-“

“And you’re just now coming for me?” Loki interrupted.

“We chased them when he was first taken,” she replied. “I tried to convince her that we needed help, but she was determined to find him on her own.”

Her explanation didn’t cool Loki’s temper at all, and she knew it.

“I have mutinied in order to come for you. I trust you will remember that once she finds out what I’ve done.”

If Exxo was telling him that you had no idea what was going on, then things were bad. He grew uneasy when they were led toward one of the cargo bays and not your quarters or the bridge.

“She has not eaten or slept since he’s been gone,” Exxo continued.

The closer they got to the bay, the worse the mental effects were. Samel had accompanied them as far as the bay door, and then waited outside. After entering and closing the door, Exxo motioned with her hand.

The bay was large and mostly empty, leaving you plenty of room to pace. The few items in there levitated in place, and Loki was shocked to see that you still had the Sparrow onboard, and that it also floated several feet from the deck.

The brothers watched for several minutes before Loki finally walked forward. He called your name gently then tried one of his pet names when you didn’t acknowledge him. You continued to pace, while lightning surrounded you like a personal tornado, and your hands tore at your hair.

Loki said your name again once he got closer, and this time you stopped to look at him. The lightning faded but your eyes continued to glow purple. Now that he’d gotten a clear look at you, his concern grew. It was obvious that you were weak from the strain, and from the lack of sleep and food.

“I will deal with you later,” you snarled at Exxo.

Loki took that moment to grasp you by the arms and shake you firmly. You tried to shrug free, but lacked the strength.

“She only did something that you should have done from the start,” he said, firmly.

“I c-can’t find him, I can’t find him…” you whispered, brokenly.

“I will help you,” he responded, before pulling you close and holding you against his chest. His hand gently caressed your head, then before you could react, he cast a spell that knocked you unconscious. The heavy atmosphere on the ship immediately lightened, giving the crew relief.

The items that had been floating hit the deck with a crash; when the Sparrow settled heavily on the flooring, Exxo feared that the damage would extend to the Corsair’s outer hull. When she opened the bay door for Loki, she also told Samel to inspect the floor and to get help to make any needed repairs.

Loki lifted you into his arms, then followed Exxo when she led him and Thor back to your stateroom. When he placed you on the bed, he reinforced his spell to ease you into a deep sleep that would last for at least a day. After removing your boots, he covered you up before retreating to the main room where Thor and Exxo waited.

“I am glad you’re here,” Exxo told him quietly. “Not just for Wyatt, but for her. She is very close to losing control, and I’m afraid of what will happen then. She’s already destroyed two ships during her hunt, and that’s not like her at all.”

Loki poured wine for himself, then the others before sitting back in his chair. Exxo had a tray with food delivered, in hopes that you could be coaxed into eating something.

“Now, tell us what happened,” Loki said.

Before she could begin, though, they all heard a noise from the other room, and then were shocked to see you stagger to the doorway. Loki’s spell should have put you out cold, but here you were, glaring while leaning against the door jamb.

Loki swore softly while he got to his feet in order to stop you. He ignored it when you tried to push him away, then you fought when he pulled you against him again. Your hands clawed at his back in an attempt to make him release you, causing Exxo to jump to her feet when your fingertips started to glow.

“No! Don’t you - don’t you…” your voice faded as he once again put you under.

“Exxo, please set course back to where Wyatt went missing. I’ll have to stay with her to make sure she sleeps. Thor, will you have her fill you in?”

“Of course, Brother,” Thor replied.

“This way.” Exxo was more than willing to get out of the way and let Loki deal with you.

After they had left, Loki took his wine glass with him into the bedroom to check on you. Unbelievably, you were beginning to move again as you fought against his spell. He finished his drink, then laid down beside you and pulled you close.

“It’s alright,” he whispered softly before kissing your temple. “Rest now, we’ll find our son.”

At his reassurance, you trembled, but then began to relax as Loki continued to speak to you while again strengthening his spell.

Wyatt….my son...my son…

Your mental voice was soft in Loki’s head, and the anguish he felt from you made him tighten his hold. He was able to keep the spell strong for several hours, until he dozed. He woke later when you started moving again. You had escaped his embrace and were trying to get up, but he pulled you back against him.

“No, please don’t...please…” you begged as he arranged himself against the headboard and put you between his legs so that he could hold you against his chest.

Loki could hear the seams in his shirt sleeve popping as you twisted the material in your fist while trying to break free.

“I won’t if you will be still and rest,” he murmured, once again caressing your head. “Just be still.”

He ran his hand up and down your arm to sooth your trembling; you finally let go and sobbed against his neck, releasing control for the moment. Loki continued to speak softly, his hands gentle, until you did go to sleep.

Just as he laid his head back against the wall, he was slightly startled when an animal jumped on the bed. They stared at each other for a few minutes.

“Hello, Boo,” Loki said, cautiously.

Boo meowed softly before walking along Loki’s leg so that he could look into your face. He then started purring quite loudly after he crawled into your arms where he could curl up on you and partially on Loki. Once he was settled, your hand instinctively reached out to touch him.

After the Flerkin got still, Loki could feel the vibrations from the purring; he found the sound soothing and knew that it would help you to relax. Boo angled his head so that he could shift his gaze from you to Loki, and his eyes were half closed.

Loki conjured a small pillow so that he didn’t disturb you or Boo and put it behind his head. He soon drifted off to sleep with Boo keeping watch.

— —

The next morning, Loki woke to find that no one had moved at all, other than now both your hands circled his bicep as if you were afraid of losing him. Boo moved once Loki stirred, and he padded to the foot of the bed before curling up.

When Loki’s hand caressed your head, you woke with a start, your breath catching with a soft shudder. He didn’t release you, just held on until you had your wits about you.

“It’s alright,” he said, softly.

He put his hand over yours when you reached up to touch his cheek, then turned his face slightly so he could kiss your palm.

“Why don’t you go shower while I have food brought? You need to eat,” he asked.

“Not hungry,” you replied, closing your eyes.

You didn’t want to face the day without Wyatt, knowing that your son was in danger and that you couldn’t get to him. Loki held you for a while longer before scooping you up to carry you to the bathroom.

He set you onto your feet, then reached into the shower with one hand while keeping you steady; once the water was warm enough, he undressed you since you wouldn’t do it yourself. You swayed unsteadily, with your head hanging down.

“Step in, you’ll feel much better.”

You gave a small shake of your head before Loki cupped your chin in order to look into your eyes. He could see that you were near exhaustion, despite having slept for several hours.

Finally, he took matters into his own hands. You barely stirred when his clothes disappeared, but you did resist slightly when he pushed you into the stall, then forced you under the spray of warm water.

Loki wet your hair thoroughly before gently shampooing it, then rinsed it while taking care not to get the lather in your eyes. When he soaped your skin, his fingers found and released the tension in your neck, shoulders and back.

Once finished, he wrapped a warm towel around your body before toweling your hair. He dressed himself, dried you off, then helped you into a fresh gown. You staggered slightly when he led you back into the bedroom, then into the living area.

Loki pulled you into his lap as he sat at the dining table, which held a tray of fresh food. He surmised that Exxo must have monitored your stateroom so that she could have it ready.

“I don’t want it,” you told him.

“Then sit still while I eat,” he replied, while pouring wine for you both.

You accepted the glass that he put into your hand but didn’t drink, then you simply ignored him.

“You’re not going to be in any shape to help Wyatt if you don’t keep your strength up,” he finally commented, with a sigh.

He felt you shudder before your shoulders started trembling. Your hands tightened on the wineglass, threatening to crush it before he quickly took it away.

“They will all pay...I will make them burn,” you whispered, as tears brimmed in your eyes.

“And I will help you,” he murmured, his voice hardening. “As will Thor and Exxo.”

“Exxo…” your voice trailed off as a tear slowly slid down your cheek. “I’ve mistreated her...and my crew…”

“I’m sure they will forgive you. You know that they will fight to the death for both you and Wyatt, don’t you?”

“I don’t know why they should.”

“I can think of many reasons why they would,” Loki replied, his hand running up and down your back soothingly.

“Thor’s here?”

“Yes, he’s with Exxo on the bridge. She tells me that it will take several days to reach the planet where our son went missing, so I want you to spend the time resting and eating.”

— — —

You agreed to stay in your stateroom for the next few days, while Loki remained with you to make sure that you ate adequately and rested. You couldn’t turn your thoughts off, though, and found yourself reaching out to listen for any trace of Wyatt’s presence.

The action did keep you from fully regaining your strength, but there wasn’t much that Loki could do about that. He couldn’t keep you under a spell that was intended to make you sleep as you kept breaking out of it. He also didn’t want to antagonize you by continuing an attempt to control you that way.

While Loki was otherwise occupied, Thor stayed on the bridge with Exxo. She had told him what happened with Wyatt and Emmi, who was with him when he disappeared.

During one of the few times that you allowed your son to leave the ship, he and Emmi went missing. Wyatt had begged to go to a candy shop that was only a block away from where you and Exxo were conducting a business arrangement. So you had agreed to it, and sent a couple of men with them as protection.

Your client had insisted on meeting you face to face, something which you rarely did, in order to discuss the terms of a bounty that had been offered to you. Exxo normally handled these, but you were going to be at the space port anyway, so you thought it might be a good opportunity to give the man an opportunity to say that he had met personally with “Kepptinn.”

He was disappointed of course when you never removed the mask or spoke to him directly. Exxo was amused as always, since so many had tried to get a good look at you or to hear your voice.

During the meeting, you’d suddenly felt a stab of terror from Wyatt and Emmi, and had jumped to your feet in a panic. You grabbed Exxo’s arm and teleported with her to their location; they weren’t there but the bodies of the two crewmen who had escorted them were.

You then teleported with her directly to the bridge of the Corsair, after recalling the few crew members who were still planet side.

You heard Wyatt calling for you, then nothing. You could tell that he was getting further away until he went quiet, making you realize that he had been silenced.

You could just barely feel him once you started after them, then they were gone. You chased them through several jump points, but couldn’t catch up before you lost touch with Wyatt.

That was when Exxo took command, because you simply lost it. You furiously destroyed two ships that got in the way of your search after they had challenged you for entering their territories.

After that, you took to roaming the ship, not sleeping, not eating, and showing up in places that you rarely visited, until you ended up in the cargo bay with the Sparrow.

You never knew that Exxo had set course for Earth and Loki until he was on the ship.

— — —

You were asleep when the ship reached the port of the planet from where Wyatt was taken. Loki watched over you, kept the stateroom quiet, and the lights dimmed while Boo slept curled up against your neck.

Loki sat in a corner, waiting for you to wake up on your own. The last few days had been rough, with you fighting sleep and not wanting to eat. Your powers had gained strength over the last several years, making him aware that you could be very dangerous if pushed.

When you stirred enough to wake Boo, Loki silently walked toward the bed to sit beside you. After a couple of minutes, you took a deep breath and sat up slowly.

“We’re here,” you whispered, while rubbing your eyes.

“Yes,” Loki replied. “After you’ve showered and eaten, we will go to the bridge and get an update from Exxo and Thor.”

You surprised him when you nodded without argument.

— —

Later, when Loki brought you to the bridge, Exxo waited for an explosion of your temper. She stood and moved away from the captain’s chair, while she watched you warily.

“Exxo.” You motioned with your hand for her to follow you to a spot where you could speak privately to her.

“Kepptinn?” She asked, when you said nothing for a couple of minutes.

“I ask your forgiveness for the way I’ve treated you...you were right to get Loki,” you said, softly. “And the crew...I will understand if anyone wants to leave the ship.”

“No one wants to leave you, Kepptinn,” she replied, firmly. “We are going to help you find your son. All of us.”

You hastily wiped tears away before pressing your forehead against hers briefly. She laid her hand on your forearm and squeezed gently.

“Alright, let’s find the trail,” Loki said, when you and Exxo returned.

“We should start down there,” you replied, motioning to the planet.

“You are going to stay on the ship,” Loki told you. “Exxo and I, and some of the crew will go down and start asking around. We can't have you losing control and killing everyone.”

“I could do that from here if I wanted,” you responded, angrily.

“That may be so, but you won’t,” Loki replied. “If anyone down there knows where Wyatt is or who took him, they may panic and do something drastic.”

“Exxo has already put out feelers to some of her contacts from the Ravagers.” Thor joined the conversation. “Messages are starting to come in, so we will go through them from here.”

You wanted to fight them all on this, but you saw their logic. The people on the planet had never seen Loki, and were less likely to be guarded in his presence, and would not know that he was capable of seeing through lies.

“Alright.” You finally gave in with a nod.

“Stay here,” Loki told you one final time before he and Exxo left the bridge.

You sank into the captain’s seat tiredly, then smoothed Boo’s fur when he jumped into your lap. He stretched out, all the while purring loudly.

“Play the messages.”

— — —

After Loki and Exxo left the Corsair to go planet-side, you and Thor sorted through the messages that had come in. No one had any concrete information, just a few hints of rumors, but they swore to pass anything forward if they felt it was important. Ravagers didn’t tolerate anyone that dealt in children and they would help in any way possible.

Stakar Ogord had taken a liking to you even though you hadn’t yet joined the Ravagers’ ranks. He had an immense network of contacts and informants who were put to the task of listening out for any word of a child stolen from his bounty hunter mother.

“Nothing,” you murmured, near tears.

Boo meowed softly at you before resuming his nap in the crook of your arm, where he had stayed for the entire time. You ran your hand along his back several times to soothe him and you.

“We’ll find him,” Thor assured you, softly. “Loki will not give up, nor will I.”

While waiting on Loki and Exxo, you stared at the large screen in front of you that displayed the planet below. Idly, you mentally reached out to the vast population just to listen and to pass the time. It was difficult controlling the noise from the thoughts of so many inhabitants, but you’d practiced enough that the act no longer gave you severe headaches.

Thor watched, noting that your eyes were closed but you would move your head slightly from side to side as if following something. The fingers on one hand rubbed the arm of your chair, causing Thor to realize that you’d done that so often that you had worn grooves into it.

While you were quiet and still, your thoughts turned back to the day that Wyatt and Emmi had been taken. Something about it felt wrong, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

You were still listening when Loki and Exxo returned to the bridge. Exxo motioned for Loki to be quiet, as did Thor. Silently, Loki watched until you took a deep breath.

“Exxo.”

“Kepptinn?”

“That day, when we were discussing that bounty...how long ago was that?”

“Almost three weeks now, Kepptinn,” she replied.

“We never made an arrangement, since we left so suddenly. Has he contacted us since?”

“No,” she said.

“And it was so urgent that I had to meet him in person, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” she responded.

Your chair turned slowly so that you could look at her and at the brothers.

“I rarely leave the ship,” you told Loki. “When I do, I keep Wyatt with me, or very close by, along with Emmi. Except on this day. He wanted to go to a sweets shop, and I let him.”

Exxo gasped as she realized what you were getting at. “A pretense?”

You looked toward the screen again, thoughtfully. Then your fist came down hard enough on the chair’s arm to jar Boo, who complained loudly. You immediately soothed him again while looking back at Loki.

“He’s no longer on the planet. I didn’t read his thoughts, except on the surface, and that was a mistake,” you told him, your voice breaking. “Your son is missing because of me.”

Boo meowed again when you moved him off your lap in order to stand. When Loki reached for you, you sidled away with a shake of your head.

“Exxo, find that man.”

Before Loki could say anything, you teleported off the bridge. He looked at Exxo in alarm while she quickly drew up a computer screen.

“She’s in her cabin,” she said.

The Flerkin gave a low growl before he, too, disappeared. Exxo sighed, relieved to have just a little piece of the puzzle, but she also knew that you held on by a thread, and if that thread broke, there wasn’t much that could be done to stop you.

“Does he always do that?” Thor asked.

“The Flerkin?” She said. “He usually stays with Wyatt, but now...he follows her. We should hope that Boo isn’t present when we find out who took Wyatt.”

“Why’s that?” Loki asked.

“Because he will eat them.”

— — —

When Loki entered your stateroom, you were pacing again, making him concerned about your state of mind. Exxo had conveyed her worry about you, and he could see her point. Boo watched from the foot of the bed and meowed periodically.

“Pet…” he blocked your path while he reached for you.

He was caught by surprise when you slammed both fists into his chest with enough force to stagger him two steps backwards.

“You should have been here!” You shouted, angrily, then slammed your fists into him again.

You then started throwing punches, causing him to move quickly to pin your arms down even as he pulled you against him. He was grateful that you weren’t throwing lightning around and he now knew that you were far stronger than he suspected.

“You should have been here!” You screamed, while twisting in his grip, determined to break free.

He tried to hold on without hurting you, but you were fighting so hard that he was sure you’d have bruises.

Your nails raked any part of him that you could reach: the backs of his arms, his ribs, and his back. His shirt gave way in places, so he quickly changed into his light chest plate with leathers to protect his back.

“Easy,” he whispered in your ear.

“You should have been here,” you told him, before breaking down and sobbing against his neck.

He put one hand on the back of your head and held you tightly when the strength left you. When your tears were spent, you attempted to pull away but he wouldn’t let go. Instead, he sat down on the bed and pulled you close.

“I-I’m sorry - that wasn’t fair to you..”

“It’s alright, I understand,” he murmured.

“No, it’s not fair to say that to you. I had no right, since I put you back on Earth and left you there.”

You slowly raised a hand so that you could stroke his cheek. Loki smiled softly when your thumb ran across his mouth, then leaned in when you pressed your lips to his.

“Forgive me,” you whispered.

“There is nothing to forgive,” he responded.

“I’ve missed you,” you said then.

“I have missed you as well, pet,” he replied, before kissing you again. “Now, did you hurt your hands?”

You shook your head even though he carefully checked to be certain that you hadn’t broken anything. When finished, he stood before kneeling at your feet to pull your boots off. You nearly balked when he motioned for you to lay down, but obeyed when he joined you.

“I don’t think you need this right now.” You tapped lightly on the armor he still wore.

“Right.” Loki quickly exchanged it for a dark green silk shirt. “Better?”

“Much.”

Once you were comfortably settled against him, you took his hand and interlaced your fingers with his. His other hand caressed your shoulder while you both remained silent.

“Now, tell me about this meeting, and the man that you spoke to.”

After you told him what happened and what you knew about the man, Loki squeezed your hand before raising it to his lips. He continued to hold it until you pulled away so that you could undo the top two buttons of his shirt.

Then you stroked his throat before sliding your hand into the opening and across his collarbone. Your eyes drifted closed as you felt and heard Loki’s breathing, along with his heartbeat, under your cheek.

I love you.

He’d never reciprocated the sentiment, and had only told you a couple of times that he cared for you, although you knew that he loved Wyatt. So you weren’t expecting any type of response; you were content to have his affection.

You were almost asleep when he spoke so softly that you barely heard him.

“I love you, too.”

He’d said it: he loved you. It surprised you so much that it took more than a few seconds for your brain to completely register his words.

He also called you by your true name, which you hadn’t heard in a long while. No one on the Corsair knew it, nor did any of the Ravagers’ bosses. Loki rarely used it, opting instead for his pet names for you. You found yourself wishing that he’d say it more often.

— — —

While you and Loki were resting, Exxo had Thor help her send out messages asking for the whereabouts of the man that had met with you regarding that bounty. She also sent a message directly to him, apologizing for the abrupt departure and asked if he still needed to hire someone.

Boo appeared back on the bridge and promptly curled up in the captain’s chair, all the while giving Exxo the side-eye. She snorted softly but let him be.

“You know that I’m second in command,” she told the Flerkin, while pointing a finger at him.

Boo chirped softly while he stretched before curling up again. The tip of his tail flicked slowly until his eyes closed.

Exxo shook her head as she returned to her computer station. “He’s an insolent thing.”

Thor glanced back at Boo. “How would such a small creature eat something more than double his size?”

“Believe me, you don’t want to know. Let’s just say it’s a messy affair,” she replied.

“But Wyatt is safe with him?”

“Yes, otherwise Samel wouldn’t have brought him onboard when he was a kitten. Wyatt was taught to be careful, and Boo has not so much as hissed at him.”

“That’s good to know,” Thor said, relieved.

Before Exxo could comment further, the computer gave an alert that someone was hailing them. She put the call onto the larger forward screen, then was surprised to see that it was Stakar Ogord.

“Exxo,” he nodded slightly.

“Stakar,” she replied. “Any news?”

“We may have something; where’s Kyrie?”

“She’s resting right now. Wyatt’s father is here with us. This is Thor, his uncle.”

The men nodded slightly to each other before Stakar continued with the purpose of the call.

“We haven’t found Wyatt yet, however, we do have the location of the person you met regarding the bounty,” he told her. “Currently he’s on Reumion. I have several small ships keeping an eye on him. If he leaves the planet, they will follow as best they can and report back.”

“We will set course immediately,” she replied. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Stakar replied. “How is she?”

Exxo paused before answering. “Not good. The sooner we find Wyatt, the better.”

“Agreed,” Stakar responded. “Several of us will meet you there.”

With that, the screen went blank. Exxo sighed deeply, going limp in her seat after she ordered the pilot to set the new course. She debated calling your stateroom to advise of the news, but felt that you likely needed the rest, and she didn’t want you to get keyed up again.

“Let her rest,” Thor said, as if reading her mind. “So, ‘Kyrie?’”

Exxo smiled at his confusion. “She took that name when Stakar pushed her during their first meeting. He refused to call her ‘Kepptinn.’”

Thor grinned when she laughed softly. He’d always had a soft spot for you, even before the lab accident with the Power Stone. He’d taken up for you several times when he felt that the SHIELD scientists were mistreating you.

They were silent for a while, then Exxo had some food brought to the bridge. She wouldn’t leave until she was able to inform you of Stakar’s report, and she thought that Thor might also be hungry.

— — —

While you slept against his side, Loki remained awake. When you moved restlessly or whimpered, he would occasionally rub your arm or neck soothingly so that you would settle.

Once Wyatt was returned to the ship, he considered what would happen next. He wasn’t certain whether Wyatt would still be safe, and he knew that you were unlikely to return to Earth voluntarily.

If he left Earth, it would be considered an escape since he hadn’t finished the terms of his exile from Asgard, although that concerned him not at all. He didn’t have a way to escape, unless he was able to convince you to liberate him again.

You had brought him back after the first excursion due to the fact that he’d chosen to save his own skin rather than keep you with him. He regretted that immensely, and would change what he’d done if given a chance to undo it.

Loki especially regretted the fact that neither of you had known about Wyatt beforehand. He hadn’t thought that the two of you were compatible enough to have offspring, and he also assumed that the Power Stone mishap would have made you incapable of having children.

So much for that, he mused.

He also knew that bringing him back to Earth was the only thing that you could have done at the time. It was punishment for abandoning you, but also was to keep him safe and so that you would know where he was. Loki saw the wisdom in that, even though he didn’t like it.

Once you had put him back in the Tower, SHIELD agents questioned him until he stopped cooperating. They wanted to know where you were, and whether he could lure you back.

Loki was relieved that SHIELD couldn’t get to you or his son, and that you wouldn’t be returning to Earth anytime soon. He was okay with that and he trusted you to keep Wyatt safe.

He glanced toward the window, and watched the stars for several minutes until it dawned on him that the ship was moving. Loki started to get up, but stopped before he woke you. He wanted an update, but didn’t want to disturb you, since it was hard to convince you to sleep.

You woke a while later, sitting up groggily while rubbing your eyes. When you glanced over at Loki, you found that he was asleep. Although you didn’t want to wake him, you did have to get up, so you were careful when crawling off the bed. Once you left the bathroom, you went to the table for something to drink, and did a double take when you realized that the ship was moving.

“Exxo?” You activated a communication screen and spoke softly.

“Kepptinn,” she acknowledged. “While you were sleeping, Stakar contacted us. They’ve found Fayard’s ship at Reumion, and have it under surveillance. I’ve set a course, and Stakar will meet us there.”

“Good.” Your eyes glittered, and Exxo could see just the faintest tint of purple.

“They haven’t seen Wyatt,” she cautioned. “He may not be on that ship.”

“If he knows anything about our son, I will know,” you responded.

— — —

By the time the Corsair reached the dock at Reumion, Fayard’s ship had left. He hadn’t been gone very long, so Exxo followed the trail provided by Stakar and your ship rapidly gained on him.

You were in your chair on the bridge, with Boo occupying one of the arm rests. Your fingers anxiously rubbed into the grooves on the other side while waiting on the other ship to come into view.

When the ship was just a tiny speck on the forward screen, Boo sat up abruptly and hissed. He then disappeared from the bridge, causing Loki and Thor to jump slightly.

“I-I can sense Emmi,” you told them softly. “But Fayard’s getting ready to hit a jump-point.”

“And Wyatt?” Loki asked, after he came to stand behind you.

You were silent for several minutes while you carefully reached out to Emmi. You cautioned her not to react when you spoke to her, then asked about Wyatt.

“He’s there…” you responded, with your voice breaking. “They’ve drugged him.”

Loki’s fury rose, along with yours, that someone would dare to lay a finger on your son. You touched a button on your console, then directed Samel to get the Sparrow ready to launch. It was much faster than the Corsair and could easily follow Fayard’s ship.

“Loki, you and Thor take the Sparrow and follow him. Boo is already there, Emmi says. He will guard Wyatt until you get there.”

“And what are you planning, pet?” Loki asked, his keen gaze on you.

“I’m going after my child, once I disable that ship.”

“You’re not going alone,” he told you while taking hold of your arm. “Thor can follow in the Sparrow but I’m going with you.”

“Fine,” you replied, knowing that you could leave him behind when you teleported, if you chose to do so. However, you also realized that it wouldn’t be fair to him, plus there would be consequences if you did that.

So you stared at the screen again, listening to the mental thoughts of the other ship’s captain. Then you targeted the ship’s engines by telekinesis, causing them all to fail so that it would slowly grind to a halt.

“Exxo, have Samel come to the bridge, then you can go with Thor while Loki and I go directly to that ship.”

She looked at you worriedly; she could tell from your stance and expression that you were in a destructive mindset.

“Stakar is almost here -“ she started, but was interrupted.

“I’m not waiting on him.”

“As you wish, Kepptinn,” she replied.

Before you could leave, though, a signal came through from the other ship.

“Voice only, Exxo, no visual,” you told her. “You speak to him.”

She followed your direction and opened the channel.

“Fayard?”

“Ahh, the first mate of the famed Kepptinn,” the man greeted her, sarcastically. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You have something aboard that doesn’t belong to you,” she replied.

“Don’t you mean ‘someone’, my dear?”

Exxo muted the channel as Loki wrapped his arms around you, holding on tightly when your eyes and fingertips started glowing. Thor jumped up to help him, while Exxo and Samel stared at you in consternation.

“Don’t,” Thor whispered. “Let him talk.”

Thor took your hand when you looked at him with tears brimming your eyes.

“What do you want?” Exxo asked, opening the channel again.

“I want to see the face of the bitch that killed my brother, and then appropriated his ship,” was the reply. “With no masks between us. You tell her that, and tell her that I’ll be waiting.”

With that, the transmission was cut. You then struggled to get Loki to release you, but he wouldn’t.

“Let go! I will kill him!” You screamed in anger and frustration. “Let go of me!!”

“Listen to me,” Loki said, firmly. “Be still and listen or I will knock you out.”

“You wouldn’t!” You sobbed.

“I will. Now listen,” he responded. “I have a plan.”

— —

When the Sparrow approached Fayard’s ship, Exxo contacted him and let him know that Kepptinn was coming aboard. Exxo piloted the small ship close enough, then you teleported to the other ship to meet Fayard.

“Ah, Kepptinn, welcome aboard,” Fayard greeted you, still sarcastically. “I’m sure I told your mate that I wanted no masks between us.”

“As you wish,” you replied, before deactivating your mask.

He studied you silently for a long time, and you met his gaze without fear or unease. When he slowly approached you, you remained still until he felt he was close enough.

“So young,” he commented, eyes skimming over you. “It hardly shows that you’ve had at least one brat.”

He stayed just out of arm’s length, thinking himself safe, and missed the slight purple flare of your eyes.

#loki fic #loki!reader #the power of three #protective!loki #dad!loki #mooncat163 #Loki's Library Member

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sereisstuff · 5 years ago

Text

ｗａｔｅｒｓｐｉｒｉｔ

merman!jungkook x chubby reader

summary of the tale - jungkook was the son of Poseidon and you were a mortal what more was to come when you were saved by him, friendship?. or will this end in a tragic tale of war between love and law.

genres - romance, friendship, comedy and angst (further on)

part 2 / part 3 to be continued...

The tender sound of the water crashing against the sand soothing your intense battle of mind, occurrences of the past slowly easing from your image, embracing the intense energy of the moon that controlled the tides as the gentle beach breeze brushed through your locks, carefully dragging in a long sigh, tilting your head back to relax the rising tension in your shoulders with eyes closed tuning in with the sound, the endless battle of sand and the ocean.

How soft the ocean could make you feel, the intense feeling of being free from the caged you fought to unlock all your life. the profound scenes you would imagine in any moment given time, cliches being played out when you would no longer cage your imagination.

The stars blanketing the sky blessing you with an unnoticed smile, a genuine smile.

Tides coming in and out against the reflection of the moon emitting a light that could comfort you through thick and thin, you flicked a piece of water splashing its substance across the oceans blanket a chuckle leaving your reddened lips as you constantly bit at them anxiously.

You gripped the edges of the wharf staring out into the distant, searching for another constellation to steal your attention away as you admired the intense warmth of the sky and all its gifts, but your train of thoughts halted when a tug came at your ankle, thinking it was all in your head you ignored the feeling.

But when it happened again you grew mortified with the possibilities of what could possibly be tugging at you right now, watching enough horror movies to make you suspicious of anything “don’t look do-” your sentence was cut short when you were forced under the tide with the fearful giggles of children.

You couldn’t scream under the odorless liquid, the water covering your vision making you fear for what’s to come, hands wrapped around your ankles pulling you further and further into the deep of the ocean tossing and turning to regain the anchor of life within yourself.

Swallowing water seizing your endless screams, you gazed down lifelessly. the bright tint of blue scales was the last thing you pictured before crossing the line of death, sinking further into the next realm.

Amidst you sinking the mythical children released your feet, their advanced ears catching on to the low vibration of their prince, fear-stricken they fled the scene leaving you surrounded by the dark seas with your arms reaching out to salvation, hair messily straddling the current.

You were ripped from your place as the male who gripped your waist swam as fast as he could to reach the air before your lung com busted with over fulfillment of saltwater, a judgment he felt had no place in his mind but a raging feeling of familiarity enticed him to rescue you if he could.

“oh, please don’t be dead!!” he panicked, shoving past the wharf to let you rest against the wood supporting you, his Finn restricting him from crossing any further from his world to yours, using his abilities to release the water in your lungs fingers tensed to help strengthen his power.

Once he saw you move his eyes widened watching your back arch up as you coughed out numerous amounts of water, a hand residing on your chest to calm the racing pump of your heart, Jungkook let his wet strands cover his forehead, glittering skin shining under the moonlight with desires drawing forth from his mind.

“Hello” he greeted kindly, his presence shocking you hence the scream exiting your purple dawned lips, quivering in fear despite knowing he saved you “w-who are you??” you muttered nervously shaking from the light breeze nipping at your skin.

But he saw this as an opportunity an opening to a world where he wasn’t known for his status within the kingdom but as an average being a commoner if he could define his dreams, as the half-blood son of Poseidon he wanted nothing more than to be known for himself, not his father and definitely not his mother.

“I’m jungkook” he smiled, reaching out for your hand as he placed all his weight on the support of his arms resting them against the wharf, you breathed in a shaky breath crawling closer to his gills “Y/n” you replied in a monotone shaking his wet hand in your own replying with a stretched smile.

“Sorry for back there, those little shits love messing with mortals” he chuckled at the memory, in all honesty, this isn’t the first time he witnessed those children doing that but it was the first time he decided to act upon it for a mortal a love that was forbidden he couldn’t help but admire your humanity wishing for more of that for himself, yes he was able to grow legs but that was only for times of need.

“M-mortals” you repeat inching away from him, but as the guilt began to build up his doe eyes pulled you back in, tinting themselves with sadness when you removed your presence from his reach “yeah, you’re a mortal, mortal meaning human as you can tell I’m obviously far from that” he joked turning his eyes into crescents helping you to warm up to him.

“Your a mermaid then” you implied analyzing his tail, hints of turquoise and pink ombre through his scales with a large finn swaying beneath the water “a what” he barked back with a frown, confused as to what that meant “you know half fish half human or at least in your case similar to a human” he nodded in understanding whispering under his breath “ah, so that’s the word”

You tilted your head waiting for him to continue “ we’re usually referred to as water spirits, so mermaid is new” he admitted gazing into your hues with delight “thanks” you said slicing the silence with a gesture of thanks, he did indeed save you and saying thanks was the least you could do “no problem, you were just my damsel in distress” you rolled your eyes at his subtle joke.

“My knight in shining armor” you replied back as you both settled in fits of laughter “oh, how cliche of you”

Jungkook splashed some water your way making you tense your way in the most unattractive way ever “you did not just splash me in the face” you growled playfully, crawling to the edge of the wharf, jungkook swimming away from your threat with a smug smirk dangling from his lips “I’m gonna get you back I swear you just wait” you shouted, splashing him in endless groups of water.

Which didn’t even make him flinch causing you to think about the logic of that “You mortals are so clueless you know that” he sighed swimming back up at you “it’s nearly sunrise, you should get going” he questioned sadly, you patted his damp locks with a reassuring smile?

“I’ll be back” you reassured him waiting for that bunny smile to make it’s way up onto his lips again “really!!” he clapped his hands in excitement, bewildered by his reaction you sat your plump body onto your knees “of course, from this day onwards I y/n will always accompany you Jungkook after sunrise at this time and place” you declared waiting for him to shake your hand in return.

For a second he hesitated, was this his truest desire to have a mortal friend or were the tales true and the friendship between a mortal and a water spirit forbidden “okay, deal” he punished those thoughts beginning a friendship of which he imagined to be one filled with purity and joy.

“But wait, here have this” he lowered his hand into the water forming something before gifting you with a necklace “my gift to you” you gasped in surprise towards the luxurious item, how was he able to do that in such short time, and last time you checked mermaids didn’t have pockets “I’m so sorry I can’t give you anything” you muttered apologetically, resting the necklace on your chest, admiring it for its unique beauty.

“It’s alright this will just seal the deal” jungkook glanced at you with a warm gaze, watching a light within your eyes he unknowingly fell for, you bent down to his gaze puckering your lips to place an innocent kiss on his cherub cheek “deal, sealed” you finished.

Standing on your feet “I’ll see you again...jungkook”

He wished for time to speed up to see you once again under the gaze of the moon “you too y/n” and with that he watched you walk away from him, mind racing with thoughts of you, his first mortal friend who will finally treat him like an average being and that’s all he wanted.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook X #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook x chubby reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x oc #bts scenarios #bts reactions #jungkook reaction #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic

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timetrickster · 4 years ago

Note

For the drabbles ask :: Nurse Me & Invite Me w/ my main girl, Mirabelle from my Gold Crown wip ! & you can choose to write both prompts together or separately & w/ whoever you want in your wip ✨ Have fun !

Universe Designation: 625

Location: Basil

It was night time in this seaport town, the sweet smell of saltwater rode on the breezing winds. Justin ran through the darkened alleyways of the town, carrying an unconscious woman. Pale and hair colored deep grey ash. His hands were bloody, as the crimson red liquid was seeping through her clothes. An open wound on the surface of her flesh, opened by a thin blade. His heart racing, having to act fast and quick as the situation turned dire.

“Enoch, teleport me now!” He shouted aloud.

A light envelopes them and teleports them back to the Eternity.

“Enoch prepare the Med-Bay.”

Rushing through the hallways of the enormous ship, the two enter the Med-Bay. Setting her down in a bed, pressing the screen by the side, a flash of light scans her.

“You’ve managed to get her on the ship on time. She’s nearly lost a lot of blood.”

“Prepare the Bio-Printer.”

“I need a sample of her DNA in order to re-stitch her skin.”

Justin places his still wet and bloody red hands on a tray near the wall. It inserts itself into the wall, stepping back to allow Enoch to do her work. Justin cleans himself off, washing his hands of the red liquid.

“DNA processing complete, beginning procedure.”

A thin pole of light aimed at the wound, slowly beginning to erase the cut like it was a drawing on paper. He took a sigh of relief and pushed himself against the wall then slide down to letting himself fall.

“Thank God.” He said. “An adventure to a new universe and I’m already saving someone.” He begins to groan out his stress, “Just once, I would like to vacation properly?”

Looking over toward the girl, he asked Enoch aloud. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“She will, some rest will do her some good.”

“Good.”

“Captain, rest was also a suggestion for you.”

“I’ll stay up for a bit. I have to make sure her shop is okay from those pirates.”

“Well, another endless night for the Time Trickster.”

Justin laughed at his given nickname, “Night, Enoch.”

It was morning now, Mirabelle had woken up from her long sleep. Finding herself in something all too unfamiliar.

“What palace is this?” She said to herself.

Wandering the hallways of lights, shining mirrors, and endless corridors. She found herself on the bridge of the ship, seeing the mysterious stranger that appeared in her shop just yesterday. He was tinkering with tools and weapons unfamiliar to her. Was he a fellow Magician? She wondered. The last she saw he stood his own against three pirates, a hulking earth smasher, a fast fire puncher, and a quick blade water pirate.

He was okay and not a single scratch on him. She checked her chest from her wound from Quickblade, only to find it perfectly healed. Her thoughts were firing, questioning, wondering, who this, mysterious stranger was. Her first instinct was to be a little weary and hostile. There was no earth or rock around so using gold magic was her only choice.

She breathed in and closed her eyes, once she released, her eyes opened. Her grey pupils turning into glowing gold. The surge of pain began to rise in her, as a bow manifested in her hand. Its physical shape was shining underneath the lights of this palace. She held her bow in the right position and pulled back the string.

Aimed at this blue-coated stranger, she walked out from the corner of the hallway and yelled.

“Who are you?!”

Her aim was true and her hands were steady, he didn’t seem phased.

“Just, calm down. No ones here to hurt you.”

The pain of using this powerful form of magic was increasing every second she held onto the string of her bow. The striking power of the arrow began to strengthen, leading her to grip the bow tighter and wince. She accidentally released the string, thus firing the arrow at the blue stranger. Her eyes widened from worry, not meaning to fire but the use of this magic was too painful to handle.

The next thing she witnessed completely stunned her. He catches the golden arrow with one hand. He snapped the arrow in two causing it to disappear.

“How did you?! What are you?!” She asked.

She was completely at a loss for words, as this stranger was able to withstand the power of Gold Magic. No one was capable of such a feat unless he earned mastery over the magic. Seeing a plant on his desk in the room behind her, she rushes toward it. It was strangely unique, Its petals were like any quartz you’d ever seen. Dark purple with cracks of green within it. It looked like a star…

Justin was immediately concerned, as he knew what she held was dangerous.

“Put that flower down, it’s dangerous!”

With her earth magic, she waved her hand over the flower but a new sensation was felt. She had absorbed the dormant power within this object of nature. The tips of her fingers slowly began to turn to crystal clear diamond, freaking her out. This new sensation was magic, foreign magic she’d never seen or felt before. She fainted from the overbearing stress of the gold magic lingering on and this new surge of unknown magic power.

Her golden bow vanished from sight, Justin sighed, then walked over to her. Removing the power and returned it to remain in the flower. He picked her up and carry her back into the Med-Bay.

A few hours had gone by, she woke up but this time with Justin in the other bed waiting for her to wake up.

“You’re up. Good.”

“Hi, did I faint?”

“You did.” He laughed a little in the awkwardness in the room.

She sat up and began to stand on her own, waiting for an explanation.

“What are you? Who are you”

“Let me take it from the top.” He briefly paused. “Hello, my name is Justin. I’m an alien time traveler. Nice to meet you, Mira.”

“Alien Time Traveler?” Mira said. “You’re a man from the stars?!” She felt surprised.

Her first time meeting someone that left stardust in his wake. “You’re actually from the stars?!” Mira had baffled written on her face.

He got a kick out of it when people are surprised to learn he is an alien.

“I am.”

“What were you doing in Basil?”

“Traveling. I’m a traveler, new things to see, new things to experience. Interesting people to meet.” He said. “Wanna come with me?”

“What?”

“Come travel with me. I’m in a new world, Id love to have a friend and a tour guide.”

She felt reluctant at first, a meeting a man from the stars was big but now he’s offering to travel this world with him.

“I- I don’t know what to say. This is all so fast, it has been a strange day.”

“Take your time. Breathe, do whatever it is you need to do.” He told her.

“I need to let my apprentice know ill be gone.”

“Of course.”

She felt the palace rumble beneath her feet,

“Enoch, ya heard the lady.”

The Eternity lands in front of Mira’s apprentices home. She knocked on her door and her apprentice Lia answered.

“Mira?”

“I’m gonna be traveling for a while, protect Basil while I’m gone.”

She ran away before Lia could get another word in, she looked up to see her teacher waving at her from a flying ship. Now off to venture to explore the world she lived-in, set off for fun, thrills, and a whole lot of potential fighting with her new friend, Justin the Alien.

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kshitij1997 · 5 years ago

Text

All frozen characters belong to the Walt Disney company, all I own is this retelling.

Facing what the river knows

Elsa hadn't felt so giddy and light-hearted in a long time. It was a moment of pure joy and ecstasy after all. How many people were fortunate enough to reach absolution in their own lifetime? Fewer were those who got to have all the questions they ever had about themselves, their origin and their world.

The rarest of all were those who got to witness the fact that all the sacrifices they had made for the good of others were worth the suffering.

And chosen were the ones who got the sign of love and affection that they had always yearned for from the people that mattered to them the most.

Elsa wept in gratitude as a huge weight had ben lifted off her shoulders. For the first time in her life she was exactly where she was supposed to be. Sure, being queen and being able to rule for the people had always brought her some satisfaction and pride, but this….this was private, this was personal. It was far better than when she had struck out in defiance to the world when she had built her monument of solitude. It was magnificent, but hollow. For what was the joy in creating if no one else could appreciate your creation? Oh, creativity was truly a marvellous thing.

The mere thought of creativity sent a huge burst of power through her. In that moment, she felt on top of world, someone who could experience past, present and future all together at the same time. Someone who could move continents if they wanted to. She let loose with the thickest blanket of snow she had ever conjured. It was an intricate, delicate dance she was executing at the moment. One moment with the poise and motion of a kind, delicate breeze, another moment the force and power of a hurricane, yet another moment with the kinetic energy of a bolt of lightning, and yet another with the gravitas and defiance of a mountain rising up from the sea against all the strength gravity could conjure to pull it down. And finally, the delicate yet laborious motion of life being created and giving rise to something unique in the universe.

In that moment, Elsa asked herself, is this what the ancient Norse giants felt when they created the universe from the cadaver of their ancestor? Joy, satisfaction, power and peace? Her mind raced back to the moment she had built her castle. She had felt rebellious and powerful sure, but she realized now that there was something missing. Something she only achieved when an act of true love saved her from a horrible death. She glad for everything that she had faced in her life so far, the pain, the heartbreak, the anger, the loathing, the suffering. She wouldn't be here now if all that didn't happen. She wouldn't be the person she was now if she had forever stood aloof against her life and the world. In that moment, she realized that all things good or bad in life, ultimately made one stronger. That was a very important life lesson for her; to embrace life with the good and the bad, as they were what made life worth living in the end. As distant as a galaxy were those moments of suicidal thoughts she had felt after her bitter spat with Anna inside her fortress, when her own creation was looking down on her for being so cold hearted, cruel and cowardly. As distant were the moments of self-hatred when Olva called her out on her behaviour during the coronation when she used terrible words to put her other sister down.

She was grateful that she had the chance to make amends.

She was broken out of her philosophy as the finished sum of her labours became clear to her. A whole bunch of statues that seemed to be sentient, however frozen in a moment of time far gone, or something otherworldly that could happen in the distant future. The future was hazy to make out, even if there were some notable achievements that could be made out; how humans might conquer the skies someday, how one day they may witness a miracle of technology, through which they could see a story being told on a contraption that resembled a curtain yet, without a wrinkle, they were able to witness something as universal as true love and family unfold in front of them. How one day, the oppressed might gain courage and throw their colonial masters to forge their own identity in the world. It was murky but encouraging, as humanity might learn to be more sensitive towards each other. Or not, as she could sense cataclysmic events taking shaping in the centuries to come. Events she didn't wish to think about lest she fell into baseless existential thoughts about everything.

In contrast, the past seemed much sharper, though it had an uncertainty of a different kind. Multiple events happening in tandem, and some events happening yet leading to multiple different outcomes. The curious soul in her was fascinated even as she saw the dome of the Hagia Sophia in purple instead of the turquoise, how she saw two Taj Mahals instead of one, one white marble and the other from black igneous rock. How the deserts once used to be green, and how there used to more freshwater lakes.

It was wonderful to see, but as she approached the past further, it became a lot more detailed, especially when her memories of her own life and the people in the life came to be. How her childhood was a lot happier than she remember it, how Olva and Anna were always by her side, through thick and thin. She almost had to turn away when she witnessed the accident from a different perspective, when Anna was struck in the head and Olva endured a head injury from the crashing towers of ice and snow she had built that night for their playtime. It was painful, but her new mantra of taking the good as well as the bad in her stride helped weather the edge of the moment. Still it was tough not to cry in that moment; it would take a lifetime, even after this moment of paradise to recover from those events in her childhood. But it had all become better in the end, she told herself, which brought her some solace. She then witnessed in full force how Anna and Olva adjusted to a life without Elsa to play with, how Anna would plead day after day for her to come out and build a snowman she would never find the courage to build, how Olva would regularly shove letters under her door so that she would know what was going on, how her parents had increasingly bitter spats and fights on how to deal with her powers. How Anna grew more childish and desperate to escape the terrible feelings of abandonment, how Olva's issues with pain, addiction and rage grew worse with time and how she lashed out viciously against those who threatened her family. Elsa felt responsible for all this and made a note to embrace both her sisters and tell them how much she loved them over and over again once she was able to calm the fury of the fifth spirit against her land.

How the family came together in happiness and in grief, reassured her that no matter how events turn out, family shall always be paramount to her. How the sisters came together after the great thaw and enjoyed a toast of hot chocolate to the found for the first time in several years. It was something she'd cherish forever.

She had to laugh when her moment of rebellion presented itself to her. Oh, to be on her own, what was she thinking? Sure, it was the first time she'd felt free and empowered, however she'd ultimately was just running away and abandoning her responsibilities. Elsa felt glad that she knew better now.

How she saw her mother rescuing her father from the ravines in the last stand of the Northurldra nearly broke her, how her parents much more than just her parents, how they were human being with their faults and fears, Elsa promised to herself never to take anyone at face value again, a promise that was tested in the very next moment when she saw Hans.

Oh, she could break his head like a walnut, but when she was able to see how he became that way, how he had tried to hold ship when Arendelle was on the verge of sinking, how in a rare moment of sincerity, told Olva how he felt about everything, how he was against a wall with he world primed to crush him. Elsa could not endorse, but she could understand. All things considered, she and Hans were rather alike, she felt embarrassed about how she'd called him irredeemable. Her crimes were far worse, even if she was able to reverse them and do penitence. Even if the deeds he did were questionable and punishable, so were hers to a degree. If she had found forgiveness, why couldn't he? She made a vow to forgive him once this was over and hope that he would find peace someday. From what Olva had told her, he had found solace by turning to the lord in his lowest moments. She would find him and ask for his forgiveness in return.

With that resolve strengthening her, she moved further, were a most remarkable thing happened. She began feeling cold for the first time in her life, an occurrence she believed was because she had begun to intrude on something that she shouldn't be able to know. But no, this was different. Somehow, it was private, yet she felt the calling much stronger in that direction.

'"What do you mean you can't lead?!" the king bellowed "I didn't raise a coward!"

"I chose not to lead, not because I can't, but because these wars are a fool's errand." The prince answered calmly.

"I didn't ask you for your opinion." "You should have. Dear uncle Napoleon is screwing himself with this conflict."

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF HIM IN THIS MANNER?! HUH! I have known for over twenty-five years now, long before I ever met your mother. I am to just abandon him in his time of need?!"

"If you really cared, you would've stopped him. The Russians aren't to be fucked with." A rare poor choice of words for the crown prince.

"Where did you learn such beautiful language, huh?! From the girl you've been meeting?! Has SHE BEEN POSIONING YOUR MIND AGAINST ME?!" retorted the king after smacking Agnarr in the face for that comment.

"Who?" Asked Agnarr as he nursed his cheek. "Don't you DARE play coy with me. You thought I wouldn't find out?! Whatever childish games you play, that's your business. When the fairer gender gets involved, any fooling around that you do does become my damn business." The king answered in a voice dripping with disdain, venom and contempt.

"Her name is Iduna, and no, she has not influenced my decisions in any way whatsoever." The prince now rose from where he had fallen and continued "As for the other business you're insinuating, it's a pity I can't strike you back."

The king loomed dangerously close and growled "Try me."

For a moment it looked as if they had forgotten that they were father and son, rather two strangers who were spoiling for a brawl.'

Elsa was aghast; was this the man she called her grandfather? No, this was an acutely private discussion between two people who were long dead. She had no right to judge them; what would she do in their circumstances? However, the call became even sharper in her mind that there was more to it. Even as the cold feeling worsened, she trekked on.

'"Father, why can't we talk like the well-educated people that we are? A mosh pit between us would be shameful. Let's discuss this calmly."

The king took a moment to breathe, stepped back and said "Very well, but I can't stand back this time like I did in Spain. I will rally my army with the French, for the sole reason that I can't let the Tsar have any more influence in Europe than he already has. As for the north, it's time they bowed down to the true authority in Arendelle."

"We should have pursued the peace talks further with the Northurldra, pa. We would have reached an accord."

"I know from experience that's not true. I did offer the NORTH the gift of the reservoir, at great personal cost of the empire. How do they show their gratitude? By nearly blowing up the blessed dam! How do I reach an accord with such animals?" The king said.

"Maybe they couldn't forget the valley of death." Agnarr suggested.

"It's a bloody shame they didn't remember the valley that well either, for they should have guessed that my kindness to them is a privilege they have, not my duty or moral law towards them." Replied the king "The expedition up north will happen, if the Northern people hold their lives and livelihoods dear, they would be wise to stand down without much destruction." '

The valley of death? The ravine where she had felt heavy and suffocated when she and Anna had tried to pass through to get to Athohallan sooner? A place so unholy even the spirits wouldn't dare disturb it?

She felt the beginnings of the slightest rigidity in her movements. Was she being held accountable for this? Or it was just too powerful for her to experience?

Such questions were wiped away from her mind when she came across the battle of the valley of death. What she saw rocked her to her core.

'The Northurldra cavalry, over fifteen thousand strong, charged with all the might that they could muster, with a combination of cutlasses, spears, and clubs, and with their trusted reindeer mounts, for an all-out charge against the biggest pain of their existence.

Though massive in strength, the Northurldra made the mistake of leading themselves into a ravine, and with no way out, they were doomed. Runeard ordered an artillery barrage so horrific that it spread word of his capabilities and depths of hatred across Europe.

The Northurldra had knives, swords, spears and a few muskets at best. It was no contest.

Just a bloody massacre.

It was difficult to count how many were mowed down with bullets, how many were cut to pieces by the bayonets charging downhill, and how many were trampled in the confused stampede. But one could be said for certain; the Northurldra Cavalry never recovered from the battle.

They had risked everything on one last battle, just what Runeard had wanted, and it had cost them everything.'

The rigidity that Elsa had felt had risen further and had begun to feel constricting in wake of the horror that she had just witnessed. Nevertheless, she felt determined to get all the answers possible, even if she would be trapped there forever.

She reached a cliff where she had a moment of doubt; the battle of the valley of death was horrifying, but it didn't explain the mist, the separation and the call she had heard. It wasn't just to make her the best version of herself, surely there was something else to it? But what about Arendelle? She had left Olva alone in a precarious state to prosecute the defence of the Kingdom against all Northern Europe, surely the troops and people needed their leader the most in this moment. And what about Anna? She had once again left her to fend for herself in the wilderness, along with Olaf. She had a lot of explaining to do. Nevertheless, she made the decision to get to the root of the matter, as she felt that would answer everything, and leapt from the cliff into the ravine below.

The constrictive grasp she had been feeling had actively begun to overpower her, she felt difficulty in breathing even as she felt the warnings of her mother's lullaby echo in her head, as well as snippets of another argument.

'"FATHER!"

The king turned back violently to find the crown prince Agnarr. The mere sight of him distracted Runeard so much that for a few long agonizing minutes he forgot where he was.

"Stupid boy, what are you doing here? I told you this is no place for you."

"And I told you it's not worth the bloodshed, leave them alone. I guess an inability to follow orders or advice runs in the family."

"You want to discuss that now?! With these killers inching closer?"'

What did her grandfather mean by 'that'? Was there something else more terrifying?

Elsa got her answer in stark detail as she landed on her feet. The cold was threatening to engulf her by this point, but she chose to go further.

'The leader of Northurldra was beside himself in disbelief. Was king Runeard truly this viciously foolish as to threaten the shrine of the fifth spirit? He, in addition to being the leader of the Northurldra, was also the chief caretaker of the shrine atop the tallest mountain in the north of Arendelle, supported by his adopted special daughter who had the power to change form on a whim, believed to be blessing from the fifth spirit itself, and by hundreds of those who chose to maintain the shrine, a sacred place as well as being the only rocky construction made by the Northurldra in ancient times, compared to the simple leather tents they lived in now. The shrine also served as a fortress, to protect the Northurldra from invaders. Alas, despite their best defensive measures, the Arendellians had made the diabolical move to set fire to the forest at the bottom of the mountain. The forest fire became more intense and deadlier as it climbed the mountain with a terrific speed.

The Northurldra were running out of options as the flames leapt closer. To die engulfed in destructive flames, or to charge downhill and try in vain to take out the army and be destroyed? The Northurldra decided to go extinct facing their devil in defiance and charged downhill with their weapons and a severe vengeance, the transitioning daughter leading the charge.

What they didn't know was that Runeard, in a fiendishly cunning bit of legwork, had found the secret tunnel used by the Northurldra as an escape route in dire situations, keeping him and his personal guard safe from the fire and the battle that raged on the mountain. Runeard ascended with his guards to the summit as the battle was being fought down far below. He entered the shrine where he and his personal guard stood face to face with the leader of Northurldra, along with ten loyal defenders, armed to the teeth.

'Runeard, you backstabbing snake! How dare you desecrate the holy mountain? I relented after the dam, but now I won't!' Hissed the leader.

'It is 'Your Majesty' to you from now on, do you understand, you old fraud?' Runeard growled.

'You have a beef with me, you fight me alone, what did my poor people do to deserve it? To be forced to charge down towards a decoy resulting in near certain death?' the leader began to speak, but he was interrupted rudely by the king 'No hard feelings, your grace, but I can't let a cancerous appendix threaten the health of the state of Arendelle.'

The leader had heard enough 'You will regret this, you monster.' With that, he gave the go ahead. And so it was.

A fight to the death.

A bitter melee between scores of people, the kind of fight Runeard generally avoided, but wasn't averse to. Even so, his guards were feeling the pressure as the Northurldra were in their element and were desperate to protect their shrine. The Northurldra leader may have been out of his prime, but he was still a force to be reckoned with. Even as the last of his defenders were immobilized, he was able to cut down five of his attackers personally when he was struck in the heart with a spear from one of the few surviving kingsguard. Runeard stepped in callously and asked the fallen leader contemptuously 'Any final words from the dying culture of you northern savages?'

'Your own family will be your kingdom's downfa-' the dying leader began to speak in choked words but his head was lopped off by the king, who wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

A full minute of silence passed even as the inferno grew behind Runeard, who was taking in the spoils of his attack.

'What about the survivors, your majesty?'

'Let them die with their gods, and set fire to the shrine once done with them''

Elsa couldn't watch anymore, shutting her eyes away from the massacre, even as she could feel every death, every cut from the battle, the lives of the fallen ebbing away, and the shrine burning to utter destruction, the cries of an aged woman lamenting the fate of the Northurldra before slitting her own throat open to avoid being made a trophy of those Arendellian monsters. Elsa cried out in pain as the cold turned to ice as it began rendering her solid, in tandem with the bloodcurdling cries of the woman who saw the fate of her adopted father, her grief turning to murderous hatred as she vowed the destruction of Arendelle.

It was heart-breaking, but it still didn't explain the mist. The fifth spirit was clearly furious with Arendelle, but then it could have destroyed Arendelle without a trace left behind, why the mist, and why the call? Had she always been an unwitting pawn in this play from the beginning?

The queen summoned all the courage she had left and opened her eyes with tremendous effort towards one final scene

'It was a titanic clash in the middle of the worst avalanche the north had ever seen, between king Runeard and the self-proclaimed avenger of the fifth spirit.

'Such a magnificent fighter you are, you'd make a wonderful queen' Runeard goaded the woman, even has he narrowly missed a blow from her double handed battle axe.

'I'd feel even better with your head mounted in my lair' growled the woman in a wolfish voice.

'It's a pity that you're a monster begging to be killed.' hissed the king as he played a manoeuvre of hitting her on the shoulder, while pulling out a pistol ready to shoot the woman in the heart. She anticipated this, dropped her weapon and turned into a wolf to go for the shoulder and ducking in at the last second to break his neck with her open jaws.

A shot rang and a jaw clenched. Then the survivor yelped in a near feminine tone of voice as his life ebbed away from his throat which was torn apart. And then it happened in an instant, the fire, the earthquake, the inferno, the hurricane, the landslide and finally the mist.'

Elsa realized it all in horror, even as she was near solidly frozen, that the mist was there because the work of the fifth spirit was incomplete, it could only be done with the utter destruction of Arendelle. And she was the final move, the triggering device for said destruction. Runeard's own family would be the downfall of the kingdom of Arendelle after all.

She made a desperate decision in a split second. Anna and Olva need to know about this. As for myself, I'll offer myself up as sacrifice to the fifth spirit, so that it may be appeased, and it may relent somehow. The people of Arendelle don't deserve this horrible fate. I'll take the fall for them.

With that, she conjured two wisps of snow, one for Anna and one for Olva and stopped resisting once and for all as she froze completely in a statue of ice.

Anna found out about the whole story and put two and two together in terror as Olaf melted away; the dam must go, that was the only hope for her people, even if she had to lay down her life for the greater good. It was the next right thing after all.

Back in Arendelle, Olva was finishing the discussion with the admirals regarding the battle plans to face the naval invasion coming in the next twenty-four hours, when the giant six-foot mirror of ice in her room was shattered into a million pieces. Olva stood dumbfounded for a moment as she saw the shards of ice melting away, then lifted her face in terrible realization. Turning to Hans, she said gravely 'Elsa's dead, Anna's nowhere to be found, we're on our own.'

Whoo, for a standalone story this fits nicely into my multichapter fic, frozen the epic. If you like, you can read that as well!

Nevertheless, I hope you like this standalone. If you wish, I'll include this in the multichapter story when the time comes. Olva is the OC and Hans is there too.

As usual, constructive feedback or appreciation is always welcome!

#frozen elsa #frozen #frozen anna #frozen fanfic #frozen fanfiction #ahtohallan #fifth spirit elsa #arendelle sisters

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kingdom-of-kins · 3 years ago

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hi !! my ranboo canonmate misses our purpled so i was hoping i could request a doodle of them !! heres 🔴s description of him: "hai :D! they basically look like cc!purpled’s mc skin except they wore a black turtleneck undershirt and their purple hoodie was a crop top which they wore overtop - they were also a lavender/purple axolotl hybrid: purple lotl fins, purple lotl tail with a sort of upside down V cut into their hoodie & undershirt to make room for their tail as it was very fragile. their pants were like. if you imagine techwear pants? very tactical looking, with good pockets for weapons and stuff like that! and they wore like. shin high purple boots which colour matched their hoodie and looked very aliencore which added to the Alien!! vibes ppl got from em minus the axolotl part. they also wore fingerless gloves and had freckles across their nose and purple eyes and messyish hair, like how ppl usually draw fansrt of them" i hope this is ok !!! have a good day kingdom 💚

This was RLLY fun. I did a little shading too :] hope you end up liking this!!<3

#☆twirling my pen | my posts #☆strengthen your wits and face me | purpled #i dont know what tags to use for this um...#☆space race! | comet syndicate #doodle #my art #purpled kin #dsmp kin #(??)#dream smp kin #☆blocked and fenced | mcyt

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thedeevirus · 5 years ago

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Dark Crystal AOR Ficlet: ‘Armour’

“Following the Emperor's dismissal of his Podling servants, SkekSil steps up to help his Emperor dress”

Enjoy! If you would like a ficlet drop me an ask!

Added to AO3 Dark Crystal Ficlet Collection

***

The Emperor’s request for someone to help him dress now made complete sense to SkekSil.

SkekSo had made the announcement the day before, having been affronted by his newest Podling slave that morning. It had been unceremoniously dismissed from service (and from the bed chamber’s balcony) for its suicidal insolence. This left the prestigious position open and yet, for some reason, the remaining Podlings were unenthusiastic about filling it.

SkekSil had volunteered for the position immediately, ensuring every Skeksis witnessed his altruism. He endured their vindictive surprise, snide mockery and amusement at his acceptance of such a menial task. As always, they were simply too short sighted to see the big picture. What better way to strengthen his position in the Emperor’s good graces?

But now, the Podling’s gasp of disgust that had reportedly sealed its fate seemed to SkekSil more of an underreaction.

SkekSil wrinkled his nose as he syringed yet another boil. He was careful not to breathe in the miniscule, wisp like purple particles rising from it like dust in sunlight as he emptied the syringe into a waiting flask. The ‘sample’ would be delivered to SkekTek once the Emperor left his quarters. The tools SkekSil was using to collect them were of the Scientist’s own design as were the numerous ointments and unguents lined up neatly on a rack beside them. SkekSil put the syringe down and selected the first jar. He popped it open and applied it to the Emperor’s back. SkekSo gave no sign of any pain even as the oily perfume was slathered onto his various lesions and weeping wounds. It was necessary to disguise the stench of rot that clung to them.

As SkekSil leant down for a better angle, the boil (despite just having been syringed) suddenly vindictively exploded. Milky liquid smacked under his eye, blinding him. There was a smell of stagnant water. SkekSil bit back a surprised squawk of disgust, fearful the Emperor would take umbrage. He risked a check of the Emperor’s face. Thankfully (and insultingly) the Emperor seemed unconcerned. He was lacing up his gloves, attention focused on the sheen of each tiny pearl bedecking the fabric. SkekSil hastily wiped the disgusting ooze away with his handkerchief. Resuming his task, he swallowed hard to conquer the bile rising in his throat. As the Emperor nodded approvingly at his gloves, SkekSil wondered once again if his latest attempt to claw more power for himself had been worth such indignity.

He also wondered if the fruit of the Emperor’s experiments were worth suffering such foulness.

That was another of SkekSil’s little secrets. He knew all about the Emperor’s fascination with the ‘non existent’ Darkening. It delighted him to no end that he alone knew the answer to the question that caused SkekTek no end of sleepless nights; Why was the Emperor weakening faster than the rest of the Skeksis? SkekSil was intrigued by the power the Darkening offered but, as it usually did, self-preservation outweighed his curiosity. Aside from the grotesque physical side effects, SkekSil was also unwilling to face the Emperor’s wrath should he realise someone was privy to his secret.

SkekSil completed applying the unguents and laced up the Emperor’s robe. Once his first layer of garments were secure, the Emperor rose. He swayed slightly with the effort but declined SkekSil’s offered hand with a swift slap. He lifted his arms enabling SkekSil to help him into his overcoat and cape. SkekSil then moved behind him with the back carapace and waited while SkekSo’s secondary arms threaded themselves through the waiting holes. Not for the first time that morning, SkekSil’s gaze was drawn to the wicked looking curved knife nestled in the middle of the other tools on the table nearby.

One ‘tragic accident’ and there would be a new Emperor.

Perhaps he could blame SkekTek, the owner of the tools? The scientist was already in disfavour and was no doubt still licking his wound following his appointment with the Peeper Beetle. But that also placed him in his lab, secluded and sequestered until the essence draining machinery had been repaired.

Perhaps blame a Gelfling? The traitor Rian? Or the captive Gurjin? No, that was ridiculous. It would plunge the castle into disarray if word got out that the Emperor could be felled by such a weak creature.

No matter who SkekSil named as the culprit, there would be questions. Challenges. A mad scramble for the throne. And even if SkekSil miraculously saw off all pretenders, what would stop the others from seeking revenge when (not if) the truth of SkekSo’s demise came to light? The challengers would declare it was for revenge of course. How they would beat their chests and mourn their beloved Emperor SkekSo! But SkekSil and every Skeksis would know the truth. The truth was SkekSil was not popular at court and some, such as SkekUng and SkekVar, would jump at any excuse to silence him forever. But…would they kill him? Could they bring themselves to? Skeksis do not kill Skeksis. But the very Emperor who had created the decree would be dead. The ‘unbreakable’ decree broken and SkekSil would have signed his own death warrant. Setting such a dangerous precedent was not worth the risk.

SkekSil picked up the Emperor’s headpiece from its customary resting place on a sculpt of SkekSo’s head. The Emperor began to straighten his back. SkekSil’s eye twitched at the audible creaking of the protesting bones in the Emperor’s spine. Once the Emperor had negotiated his body to stand at full height, SkekSil reached up and placed the headpiece on SkekSo’s head. He adjusted it, ensuring it stood straight and couldn’t help but notice how the Emperor stood taller than him. Even SkekSil’s withered heart felt a touch of pity at how far the Emperor had physically declined since the beginning. SkekSo had once triumphed in every test of strength and his voice could have towered above a crowd. And yet, mentally he remained unchallenged. If he could inflict such harm upon his own body without batting an eye, what could he do to his enemies?

Yes, perhaps it was better to be the power behind the throne for now, More room to manoeuvre.

As he lowered his head to button the Emperor’s collar, the final task, he gave a start as he realised the Emperor was staring at him. His eyes, pale like chipped ice, regarded him with something akin to amusement.

‘We both know you won’t do it’, he said.

Chamberlain’s eyes dropped. He felt cold sweat begin to drip under his own neck ruff.

‘Apologies my Emperor’, SkekSil wheedled, ‘Such beautiful buttons but so awkward’.

‘Silence’, SkekSo said impatiently, ‘You know what I’m talking about’.

‘Forgive most noble sire but I don’t-‘

‘I said “Silence”!’ the Emperor bellowed.

Chamberlain flinched, lowering his head submissively and wringing his hands contritely as the Emperor continued his tirade.

‘Do not play your pathetic games with me! I see the hunger in your eyes. The thought that one swift strike to my back would be the end of me!’

SkekSil’s eyes widened but before he could protest his innocence, SkekSo had seized him by the neck. SkekSil choked, surprised by the strength of the Emperor’s grip. He struggled to control his breathing, eyes watering. SkekSo leant forward and he seemed to fill the entirety of SkekSil’s blurred vision.

‘Not even the respect to look me in the eyes when you did it!’ SkekSo snarled, spittle flying from his yellowed teeth, ‘Tell me SkekSil, would you wait for my body to cool before snatching the sceptre from my talons?!’

‘Never! Never your majesty!’ SkekSil coughed desperately, ‘You are mistaken! Please! Me-mercy!’

The Emperor considered for a moment then abruptly released the Chamberlain.

‘Perhaps you’re right’, SkekSo mused, all signs of murderous anger gone.

SkekSil gratefully sucked in great mouthfuls of air. The Emperor watched him struggle dispassionately.

‘You would not dare’, he said as if thinking aloud, ‘Such honesty is beyond you. You would have to own your actions and accept the consequences. And that is something you can never do. It is something an Emperor must do’.

‘But-but if venerable Emperor suspects such unthinkable treachery then why allow-‘

‘You to serve me so intimately? Many of the others have asked the same. But your question I will answer’. The Emperor’s beak curled into a cruel smile. ‘Because you, Chamberlain, are the most predictable creature in this castle. You can always be trusted to preserve your own skin above all else. Should you wish for it to remain on your bones, be content with your lot. Some of the others are not’.

Chamberlain’s blood boiled at the truth in the Emperor’s venomous words even as he was forced to accept them. He pushed the anger down, like sheathing a dagger for later use and plastered his usual simpering smile on his face.

‘Only fools would dare oppose or plot against the benevolent SkekSo. I only wish to serve. As I always have’.

He bowed low, beak practically touching his knees. The Emperor gave a low chuckle.

‘And you always will’, he said coldly.

SkekSil rose and SkekSo waved a hand in dismissal.

SkekSil once more lowered his eyes and spread his arms, stepping backwards out of the bedchamber as decorum demanded. He closed the door behind him and touched his neck, feeling the indentations the Emperor’s claws have left in his wrinkled neck. His fingertips came away wet from where they had pricked him. SkekSil glared at the Emperor’s soiled bandages still in his hand, leaking with vile ichor he had dabbed from the Emperor’s body.

‘Ungrateful spit head’, he muttered, casting the rags out of the nearest window.

He froze as he heard a rasping noise. His heart hammered as he braced himself for the Emperor’s onslaught and cursed his foolishness for thinking he would not be heard through the door. But an attack never came. Turning around, SkekSil laid his head against the door. He could hear a thin, wheezing noise from inside.

Carefully creeping to the left side of the door, SkekSil lifted the corner of a decorative tapestry on the wall. A small hole was revealed. Pressing his eye to the hole he had carefully carved into the wall, he peered into the Emperor’s bedchamber.

The Emperor was sitting on his bed, back hunched as he trembled. His breathing was hoarse and laboured. His eyes were closed, no doubt in an attempt to wrest his body back under control. His face was tight and pale, mouth slack as he dribbled. But what SkekSil noticed most of all were the Emperor’s hands. Both clutched his sceptre, the skin on the bony knuckles pale and tense from the strength of his grip.

‘Yes my Emperor’, SkekSil purred to himself, grinning, ‘Chamberlain will serve. For now’.

#Dark Crystal #dark crystal age of resistance #dark crystal fic #skekso #skeksil #skeksis

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spirit-of-the-void · 5 years ago

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Ebony and Ivory (V x Reader Fanfic) Chapter 40

Author’s notes: Howdy. So this is the ending of Ebony and Ivory, and to be honest I spent a long time working on it. Things have been a bit wild and confusing, especially with how divided people seem on the story ending. But...writing this long ass fanfic for you guys has been a privilege, even through depression and health issues.

The only thing I’m unsure of is if I should write the Vergil ending--because I want to reserve all my vergil energy for the Echo Chamber fic. I’ll let you guys decide--let me know if you still want the alternate ending, cause if so I’ll do my best. Either way, I’ll still be writing Echo Chamber.

Chapter 40

Epilogue

(Several Months later)

You never wanted to get up from your bed.

This was bliss in its truest form, was it not? Waking to warmth, face tucked against the neck of your lover and limbs tangled with the bed sheets. It was another beautiful, sunny day in Fortuna as usual, the sound of waves rolling against the shore and V’s slow breathing the only melody for your ears. Warm, so warm. This had to be heaven--there was doubt that anything else could feel so perfect. You let out a gentle sigh, mind feeling foggy with sleep and body delightedly comfortable as you stretched out along your poet’s form, toes pressing against his bare calves. It was so strange, you had gotten used to V feeling cool and frail for the entire time you traveled to the Qliphoth tree; feeling his warmth and solidity was a gift you would never take for granted again, not after witnessing him crumble his way up to becoming Vergil again.

V was doing better than he ever had, you and Kyrie made sure of that. The motherly woman had been worried upon seeing V’s ribs and rail-thin form, and seemingly made it her sworn duty to get the poet healthy. He learned pretty quick that arguing with her was not the best idea, not once she got rolling. No skipping meals, taking vitamins, listening to you both hounding him and not uttering so much as a peep of complaint. You both only backed off after his bones stopped showing through his skin, letting him decide on his diet after that. Not much had changed--V preferred eating light over big meals, which was understandable with such a new body. Months later and he was looking more lean and healthy, still a lanky man but less frail and with a bit more muscle. That cane was less as a tool to walk with, and more of a conductor's baton he used in battle.

Well-fed and well-rested. As he should be.

You had spoken of what happened in the Qliphoth tree, and to be honest you had forgiven him for everything that transpired before words of apology had left those lovely lips. Understanding could be found--there was desperation, a need to return to who he was before. All that was gone now, V finally his own person with a full soul on top of it all. The only way to go was up, which you were more than doing. The new time together only strengthened how much you loved him, deepening that bond of trust and acceptance again after the lies and mistakes fractured it. Piece by piece, bit by bit...things were becoming as perfect as they could be, and in the end that was all you wanted.

The things you once took for granted were now so precious, weren’t they? The feeling of V kissing your fingers, the way his hair felt under your hands. Those jade eyes, his sly smile...having them back felt like a dream, one you never wanted to wake from. It was the little moments of simple, domestic life that seemed so enchanting after he came back, moments you thought would never be had with him. Sharing a cup of coffee on the beach while the sun was still rising, watching him read poetry to the children, helping teach him how to cook with the aid of Kyrie and Nico. He was pretty hopeless in front of a stove before those teachings, but learned very quickly. If you weren’t mistaken, he found a joy for it too--he would sneak peeks at cooking novels and shows on several occasions, and offered to help with dinner often.

Something about it was...very cute.

As for Vergil, he returned back to Devil May Cry with Dante and the women. You were shocked, the spiky-haired male put up no fuss when his brother instructed him to do so, and had apparently put in a lot of effort to make it a functioning business. Not only that, but he had been making a determined effort to be a part of Nero’s life now that everything was said and done. His father and uncle now visited once a week, keeping the kids entertained and staying for dinner to talk and socialize. Kyrie loved it, Nero was undecided, and Nico still hated Vergil’s guts. Dinners were filled with hostile stares from the mechanic, which Vergil easily ignored. Hearing him ask Nero questions about his life, seeing them spar on the beach and Vergil actually trying to teach him things? Odd. But...maybe those trials left their mark, so the Outsider must have done something right.

Speaking of the God, you were back to talking with him. A shrine now rested in an alcove on a nearby cliff, glowing at night with the purple light of lanterns and humming with the Void’s energy. Corvo, as always, managed to talk sense into your father figure--He was there when you spoke last, promising the keep the God behaving while you got your life together. The Outsider wasn’t going to argue it, that much was sure. You thanked him for bringing V back, and managed to repair some of the trust that was lost, bit by bit as you did with V. The shrine was now visited once a week, offers left on its alter and gone the next morning. Food, books, sometimes things you crafted yourself. The Outsider seemed to enjoy food the most--you doubted he got to eat much of anything in a place like that.

Regardless.

The kids warmed up to V well, easily sensing his uncertainty and all around awkwardness when it came to living normally. They liked being able to teach him things--like how to clean pots properly, how to make s’mores when a bonfire was lit in the backyard. Little things that V didn’t seem to think about or know, either because Vergil didn’t know them or because some things were lost when the two were separated. Being reborn had to be hard, you were always patient with him when a new problem rose up. V didn’t seem to mind either, it made the kids feel super important, like they could sense the poet’s vulnerability. Plus what could be better than having another person in the house to talk and play with? Julio in particular seemed to like the poetry, and asked the goth about it a lot.

Speaking of the kids, you knew that they would be going into town with Kyrie in the morning to practice for their performance in the spring festival. It was starting to get warmer outside bit by bit after winter came and went, but the day would be comfortably warm for the kids as they made props at Madame Elenor’s shop. You could hear them downstairs already, chattering excitedly about the prospect of seeing the other kids in Fortuna, practicing their lines and getting to paint trees and scenery to be moved into the theater at the square.

Now that you thought about it...almost a year had passed, hadn’t it? Since you were brought to this world.

So much has happened.

So many terrible, wonderful things.

Only this time around, everything is perfect.

You let out a contented sigh, snuggling closer against V’s wiry form and feeling him shift and mumble lightly in his sleep. It was April now, and you planned to go through May and June in peace and delight. Just having these past few months has been so wild, celebrating Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New year’s Eve...all the things you were once certain V would never have, but got to have in kind. It was shaping up to be an amazing year, and you were ready for each and every one after that to come.

That was the thought you drifted in and out of sleep on, knowing full well that you didn’t have to meet up with Kyrie and the others until noon. Nero would be out discussing the next mission with Nico, Dante, and Vergil as well until returning to go out with the rest of you. A day out to lunch was in order, his uncle and father declining the invitation despite how insistently Nero had offered it. Something about working some family things out had been their excuse--you were fairly certain they intended to visit their mother’s grave. Some things were far more important, you could easily understand that. Besides, being around Vergil felt...weird sometimes. Like staring at a painting that once held color, and seeing only black and white.

You tried to shake the thought, realizing for the first time in months you and V had the house to yourselves, peace and quiet reigning supreme once the kids were heading down the street. You loved your new family, you really did, but most mornings were rife with Nico’s invention shenanigans, or the kids finding their energy after breakfast and play-fighting with Nero. To finally be able to lie in bed with V, only the warm breeze drifting through the windows and the sun on your body...it was so nice, and needed. Maybe that was why Kyrie decided she would take the kids there herself, insisting you sleep in after “working so hard with Nero and the others”. Sweet woman, you adored her for that.

Especially when you felt V finally begin to stir, his muscles stretching and a soft groan leaving those beautiful lips. You decided to keep your eyes closed, wanting to savor the moments of relaxation for a little while longer and act like sleep kept you in its gentle grasp. You weren’t disappointed--V’s fingers stroked through your hair, nails tracing feather-light patterns on your scalp before trailing down your neck. If you were a cat, you would have purred at a feeling like that. As it was, you shivered softly in delight as you shifted even closer, one hand gracing his bare chest and over the faded tattoos that rested there.

After everything was said and done, you both shared a connection with the familiars. They generally spent most of their time in V considering he had been lacking in power for those first few months. But being born from the Void had left him with some byproducts, and he was learning how to use them at his own pace and tolerance level. The poet had been astounded at how much it burned to use the abilities of the Void, learning pretty early on that you dealt with it all the time--he didn’t like that, but reluctantly didn’t push things on it further.

The tattoos only extended over his arms and chest now, like sleeves that drifted over his collarbones. It was there that you traced your fingers, feeling his chest rise with a slow breath as your fingers danced a line from there to his stomach, resting there to feel the muscles bunch and relax. He was so sensitive, ticklish--a delightful thing, one learned pretty quickly after shenanigans had broken out on a particular evening. Cute. There were so many things about him now that were absolutely charming.

He let out a low hum, grasping your fingers lightly between his own and lifting them to his face. Those soft lips brushed your knuckles, tender and loving as you kept your eyes closed in an attempt to feign off waking a bit more.

“The sun descending in the west, the evening star does shine,” V murmured against your skin, his other arm wrapping around your waist to tug you closer as he continued, “The birds are silent in their nest, and I must seek for mine.”

You couldn’t help it--a smile broke over your lips, eyelids fluttering open to stare at his face in amusement. He always took your breath away, a vision of beauty and perfection. His hair was black again with Nightmare’s presence, and the tattoos were dark on one side from housing...was that Griffon this time? You paused, feeling Shadow rouse briefly in your thoughts before plunging back again, giving you both the privacy you so craved. The demons weren’t oblivious, they knew you’d have the house to yourselves come morning.

Regardless, you let out a contented sigh, resting your chin on his chest and staring up at him with adoring eyes as you mumbled sleepily, “Do you intent to wake me every morning to William Blake?”

He grinned at that, tucking a stray hair behind your ear as he replied, “Perhaps. Does it displease you, my little Sparrow?” He kissed the top of your hair, voice rumbling over you as he added, “Would you prefer I wake you to…. other delights?”

Judging by his low, husky tone you knew exactly what these other delights could be. The man was insatiable now that he had this new body and freewill--not that you were complaining.

“A beast has awakened in my tender poet,” You mumbled, feigning an exaggerated swoon and tucking your face against his neck again, “One that intends to eat me alive, always hungering for my supple flesh….!”

That earned you a low chuckle, V turning and nipping lightly at the skin behind your ear as he growled, “And you call me the dramatic one--you could put writers to shame when you speak in such ways,” Both of his arms wrapped around your waist, breath brushing your ear and making you shiver as he breathed, “Those who restrain desire do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.”

Leave it to him to find a poetry quote for everything. But he was right in an odd way--there was no restraining a desire like the one shared between you and the poet. It was a charged energy in the air, one that sent a bolt of arousal right to your core and left you aching in the best way. A soft sound of want left you as he pressed up against your back, his hardness very apparent through the thin fabric of your panties and body deliciously warm as it cradled yours. Feeling a bit bold, you wiggled against him, smiling when he sucked in a sharp breath and put a very firm hand on your hips to still the movement. There was definitely no room for restraint when you were playing games like that.

He flipped you over in the next instant, your back pressed to the bed and both hands pinned by his as he stared down at you with heady, jade eyes. Your heart picked up its pace immediately at the sight of him, feeling almost dizzy at his beauty. Hair tousled from sleep, eyes hooded and staring at you with the most delicious hunger...Christ, he was so achingly lovely, wasn’t he? Especially with the sun making patterns on him like that, the curtains drifting lightly overhead and stroking his bare shoulders like a lover’s caress. Your face flushed despite how many times you had seen this same view, flustered all over again as he brushed a thumb over those parted lips and released one of your arms.

Oh dear. You could come undone at this rate.

“How I enjoy seeing that,” V whispered softly, shivering when you nipped at his fingers in their exploration, “The way you gaze at me, sparrow...it makes me ache in the best way.”

You smiled, wiggling lightly underneath him and enjoying how desire grew in his expression in response, “I can’t help it...I feel like you get prettier and prettier every day.”

It wasn’t an understatement, either. Each time you awoke to his loving arms it was like seeing him all over again, overtaken by his lovely face and soft lips. Could you possibly love the man more? You had thought not, but each morning was proving you otherwise.

V clicked his tongue at your response, seeming doubtful as he kissed a line from your neck down to your chest. He plucked at the straps on the camisole covering the parts of you he desired, pulling them down agonizingly slow until your breasts were bare to the glowing sunlight. You let out a slow exhale, feeling him slide those loving hands up from your stomach to the pert mounds aching for his touch and shivering when he gave each one attention in kind. The idle swirl of his thumb over a nipple, his eyes staring at you with the most unbelievable fascination and desire as he dipped his head to taste as well…

Christ, you could have come just at that--his tongue was so warm, swirling over the pink tip of your breast and sucking gently until a light mewl of want left your lips. You buried your hands in his silken, ebony locks, eyes closing and head tilting back as you savored the tantalizing sensation of his mouth on your sensitive flesh. He was such a good lover, always loving, always willing to learn and try new things. The past few months had allowed him to come into his desires and sexual preferences bit by bit whenever you both could find the privacy, and that was always enjoyable. He was discovering a preference for being a bit more dominant in bed, which earned zero complaints from your end as well. The idea of V pinning you down and fucking you senseless was definitely an appealing one.

But moments like these, filled with gentle touches and soft exploration...they reminded you so much of that first time, but better. More familiar, more charged than ever before.

Especially when he finally leaned back, hooking his fingers over the lace of your panties and slowly tugging them down and off. You obediently lifted your legs for him, eyes opening to watch as he tossed the scrap of fabric unceremoniously to a corner of the room. The action almost made you giggle, a smile tugging at your lips at the way he dramatically flung them away. He returned his attention back a moment lady, eyes drinking in the sight of your bare legs and dripping desire waiting for the pleasure you knew would come.

“Pretty and pink,” He murmured, stroking his hands up your thighs and squeezing as he coaxed them apart, “Just for me.”

You let out a low hum in response, shivering when he bent your knees and pressed both thighs back a bit more. Fully exposed to his eyes, glistening in the drifting sunlight and just as he described. The anticipation was killing you--this slow pace was delicious torture, and every second was like heaven and hell in one. But if the past few months had taught you anything, it was that good things came to those who waited.

“What do you have planned for me, slick?” You whispered, biting your lip as he pressed a kiss from your knee then down to your inner thigh. Part of you knew, and the need growing inside was making your toes curl in excitement.

V smirked, raising his eyes from your body as a playful look slipped across his face. He slid one finger idly down your wet folds, smirk growing as your breath hitched and you actively strained to keep your hips pressed against the mattress. Infuriating man, he knew exactly what effect he had over you, and exploited it in kind.

“I’m simply playing my part, Sparrow,” He replied in a husky tone, swirling a finger over your sensitive clit and down to your entrance in one tantalizing movement, “Hungering for your supple flesh...a beast with the intentions of eating you alive. Who will save this fairest of damsels from me? Surely no one is around to hear your screams for help.”

You giggled at V’s low, ominous growl, squeaking when he pressed his fingers against that sensitive spot and jolting you in place. Very sensitive, very needy.

“Bold of you to assume I’ll scream for help…” You breathed, voice trailing off in a soft whimper as he continued those slow rotations of his fingers. Each touch made you ache, throbbing and wanting to reach that peak only he could bring. But V was purposely drawing it out, finding amusement in your response and pausing for a moment in his actions.

The dark-haired male grinned, eyes meeting yours like a predator ready to devour his prey as he let out a low purr of, “Oh, you’ll be screaming alright.”

Please--My heart will stop if you keeps saying things like that.

But you didn’t get to say that out loud. V dipped his head down in the next moment, spreading your glistening folds with his fingers as he stroked a tongue over your aching flesh. Your hips jolted on their own, a soft whimper leaving you as he started devouring you just as promised. Slowly, carefully, taking his sweet time and savoring at his own pace. It took every ounce of control to keep your thighs in place, trembling lightly with the strain of not moving. Restraint? What was that again? Your thighs were strong, you didn’t want to accidentally crush him between them with how fantastic he was making you feel. Stroke after stroke of his tongue, warm and wet as he teased your clit and swirled over your aching entrance.

Too much, not enough. You arched into his touch, soft moans leaving your lips and fingers gripping the bed sheets. What a wicked man you were in love with, bringing you slowly to the edge of pleasure with his tongue and not swayed by your soft pleas for more, for faster movements and more pressure. So close, fuck I’m already so close. He knew it too, a pleased hum leaving his throat and sending delicious vibrations over your clit as he sucked it between his lips.

“V...V…” You whimpered, fingers slipping into his silken locks to tug lightly as he continued to pleasure you right on the edge of that peak, “I need…please…”

The poet’s eyes practically rolled back in his head when you pulled his hair, knowing full well how much he loved it. That encouragement was just what V needed, his jade eyes meeting yours briefly before he tugged you closer, fingers gripping your thighs hard as he stroked his tongue over your clit, swirling and sucking with enough pressure to wring a cry from your lips. You were prone and gasping as he had his wicked way, hands grasping the poet’s head and thighs shaking as that peak grew and grew with his actions. Unrelenting, you were coming undone again. It was a good thing no one was home, because you couldn’t be quiet no matter how hard you tried. At least an attempt was made, but that wasn’t what V wanted. The ruthless man loved nothing more than to hear you wail with satisfaction, body writhing as he made you come on his tongue and fingers.

Which is exactly what he did.

Your head tilted back as you finally crested, something close to a sob of relief and pleasure bursting from your lungs and thighs shaking as he held them in place, “V…!” It felt good, so good your toes curled and hips arched into his touch. He was doing a number on your heart, that was for sure--it was pounding in your chest, especially when V continued to tease and stroke his tongue over your flesh, not having his fill until you were whimpering and writhing from too much stimulation. Only then did he pull back, jade eyes staring at your spent form with satisfaction and amusement. He licked his glistening lips, wiping them with those elegant fingers and staring at the traces of your arousal left behind. That expression almost looked smug.

The poet’s gaze traveled over your form, taking in your chest as it rose and fell with each breath, face flushed as you slung an arm over your eyes. What a way to start your morning, listening to the waves crash onto the sand outside and feeling the most unbelievable pleasure from the man you loved...what a gift, one you would cherish every day until the end of time. To have him here after months of feeling like you wouldn’t, reminded again and again that this was reality...it made the bad times seem so far away, like a dream long forgotten in the realm of waking.

V seemed to understand, even when you didn’t say it. He leaned over your body in the next moment, pulling your arm away so his lips could find purchase. You sighed in delight, kissing back and wrapping both arms around his neck as you shared a moment of peace and tenderness.

“Still with me, love?” V murmured, a grunt leaving him when you wrapped both legs around his waist, thighs squeezing lightly, “Ah...gentle now, darling...I’m not done with you yet.”

He must certainly wasn’t. You kissed a line from his cheek to that sharp jawline, biting down lightly where neck met shoulders. V shuddered at your touch, gasping when you stroked a leg over his hard length, fully erect after taking so much time eating you out. Someone was certainly eager, weren’t they? You doubted he wanted to wait any longer, especially not with you grinding on him like that.

“I’m all yours,” You murmured, stroking a hand through his hair and giving it a light tug. He groaned immediately, head resting on your shoulders and breath coming faster, “Do you like that?”

V gripped your hip with one hand, bracing his weight on the other as he murmured, “I do...quite a bit.”

Such a far cry from the bashful way he admitted it the first time around--now honest with desire and wants, needy as he leaned into each and every touch. You had learned so much about what he liked, what parts of that lovely body were the most sensitive. His fingers, shoulders, neck, hair, spine...all the best spots to kiss and touch, scraping your nails over the shoulder blades of his back and sucking the skin on his neck. That was going to leave a hickey, there was no doubt. But it would be yours to see, a secret.

“S...sparrow...Y/N…” V groaned, grinding his length over your slick heat and making you both pause at the sensation of it, “Are you...can I…?”

“Please.”

It was all the affirmation he required, V rising from you to position his hips right where he needed them to be. You eagerly tilted your legs back again, spread and wanting for his cock. An invitation, one he would never ignore. What did you look like in his eyes, right at that moment? Hair still messed up from sleep, breasts bare and body in a position that was clearly meant for him and him alone. All yours, always. The poet almost looked ...entranced by the sight, bowing his head over you as the tip of his hard length pressed to your entrance, slick with the arousal left from your previous orgasm and finding no resistance. A breath passed between you both as he slipped inside, groan breaking past his lips while you took him inch by inch. Wet enough that it was an easy slide, body trembling eagerly as he filled you up in the best way.

This felt so right, like it always did. Two puzzle pieces meeting together, like your souls were meant for each other.

A low groan escaped his parted lips, body pausing for a moment to feel your wet heat. You stared at his face in a mixture of desire and wonderment, loving how pleasure influenced his expression and made his hand grip your wrist ever so tighter. Even after all these months, your poet was so careful with you--waiting so there was time to adjust, your body relaxing around his cock and aching to feel him pound into you like before. You squeezed your legs around his waist for a moment, hips rising off the bed to grind encouragingly against his length. Such actions only elicited a gasp from you both, V’s head tilting back to show the smooth expanse of his throat and the slight bob of his adam’s apple upon swallowing. Such a pretty boy, struggling for control. You liked seeming him unrestrained every once in a while, but when he was trying to stay on his best behavior…

“So bashful,” You murmured, biting your lip when he tilted his jade eyes down to meet yours, “What happened to not restraining desire? Prove me wrong, Shakespeare.”

V let out a low, breathless chuckle at your challenge, leaning do so his nose lightly brushed yours. Breaths mingling in the air between, both bodies trembling with the need to seek pleasure in one another. His hips pressing on yours freed a whimper in your chest, resisting the urge to grind your clit against his skin.

“Ask me nicely, Sparrow,” He breathed, nipping softly at your lips while he continued to rub his body lightly against yours. Just enough friction to not be enough. Your breath was hitching in response, toes pressing into his lower back to urge on what you knew he wanted to, but purposely denied, “And I’ll indulge us both. Honesty would do us both good, wouldn’t you agree?”

You flushed at his coy, strained smile, those jade eyes firm and far more unyielding as you whimpered, “You are the worst, you know that right--ahhh...”

Your words slipped into a soft moan when he retreated a bit, thrusting in once more before pausing his hips. Damn it. You knew what he wanted--V always loved making you say things that made you blush. He grinned, as if sensing your thoughts and enjoying them in kind. Mischief played a part in the desire now--this was payback for every time you cock-teased him in the past few months, there was no doubt about that.

“Mmmm…” V hummed, lifting one of your hands and nibbling on each finger in order as he replied softly, “Perhaps I am, but acknowledging that isn’t getting you any closer to having me...is it?”

So smug, so cocky.

Your resolve was far weaker than his patience, tempered by neediness and desire. Especially when he was grinding on you like that, pausing right when pleasure started to build and leaving you aching. His elegant fingers decided to fondle your breasts, teasing the stiff peaks until you were practically squirming. Right how he wanted you.

Face flushed, one hand raised to cover his jade eyes as he chuckled lightly in victory, your lips parted to utter softly and desperately, “Pl...please...fuck me...V...Please…?”

He let out a pleased purr, pulling your hand off to see just how flustered you were and grinning in delight. A kiss to your warm cheek followed, V cupping your jaw with gentle fingers as he whispered, “So precious...you can take me making love to you every night yet cannot utter those simple words without embarrassment?”

Something about it felt a lot different than acting on instinct--begging always made you feel bashful, especially when he wanted it.

“Hush,” You muttered, pressing both hands to V’s cheeks like it would somehow convey your growing sense of need, “No more teasing, just--”

Your words were cut off in a sharp gasp when V finally yielded to your demands, hip snapping back before plunging in with one fluid movement. Blessedly--you could have sobbed in relief when the motion continued. Right there, just like that. He seemed to be done with the shenanigans too, drawing your arms around his neck with one hand and bracing with the other. Unrelenting now, lips capturing yours in a frenzied kiss while his cock plunged in and out of your aching sheath. It was definitely good that you both were home alone, because the lewd sounds you were making would definitely be heard by others. As it stood, anyone who walked down the beach could run the chance of hearing, but you didn’t care.

You bit down on V’s shoulder, kissing the mark a moment later and trailing those same kisses up to his neck. Something about V awash in pleasure and lust was poetic in its own right. Gorgeous, breathtaking. He was releasing sounds of pleasure, gasps and groans that vibrated deliciously against your eardrums. No longer bashful like that first time, noises released without hiding and face pressing to your shoulder. His cock throbbed inside, growing closer and closer to filling you with his cum with each frenzied grind of V’s hips. You wanted it, needed it, craved it. Ever part of you now strained for that second release, wanting to make him feel good too.

“Y/N…” V rasped, a heady moan leaving his lips as both hands entered his hair for a firm yank, “Just like that...I’m so close, dearest Sparrow…”

You let out a soft whimper, squeezing tighter around him and keeping that firm hold on his silken locks, “Come for me...Give me all of it, sweetheart.”

Your own orgasm was fast approaching, cresting when V tilted your hips a bit further back in his thrusts and stroked those beautiful fingers over your clit. Fuck--A sharp cry left your lips, hands gripping the poet’s hair hard as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. After the first orgasm, this one made your legs quake with the level of stimulation and muscles clench inside. Almost too much, right on the cusp of how much rapture you could stand. It spiraled V into his own pleasure, slender hips stuttering and a breathy groan brushing by your ear as his hot load spilled in spurts. Your eyes practically rolled back in your head, body arching up to take all he had to offer and chest rising and falling in gasps.

A gentle breeze drifted through the window as V slumped over, careful not to put all his weight on your resting body. It seemed so serene for a moment, your eyes drifting open to see the white curtains still swaying over you both, V’s shoulders rising and falling with his slowing breaths. Peaceful...tender, just as it should have been. Everything felt so unbelievably perfect, your body wonderfully spent and enjoying the fading throb of pleasure as you stroked a hand through V’s silken hair. He was your everything, every hope and desire and happiness wrapped into one bundle of a man. In that heartbeat of time, you felt so incredibly blessed, like a thousand years of lost happiness were nothing compared to what you got to share with him. All the loss, all the pain...they were a flickering, dying candle compared to the flame he kindled within.

Happy...you were so happy tears threatened to spring to your eyes.

You released a contented sigh, holding V in a tender embrace as you both caught your breath. Hours could have passed without caring, but...it took only a few minutes to gather everything back. There were still things that needed to be done, after all. Your poet was the first to raise his head, jade eyes meeting your gaze with an expression that took your breath away--One of absolute love and adoration, V staring at you like the entire world rested in your vision. A pleased rumbled left his chest, black hair swaying slightly as he leaned down to kiss your lips like you were air after years of suffocating. Such a kiss said a lot, more than any words could.

“Thank you,” He murmured against your mouth, peppering kisses from there to your jaw as he continued softly, “For loving me despite...everything.”

You hummed lightly at that, pressing both hands to his cheeks so he could meet an adoring gaze of your own. He was always saying things of such a nature, as if he had something to prove or loving him was somehow difficult.

“You make it easy,” Another kiss to his lips, this one short and quick, “I would love you no matter what, V. You know that right?”

Even if you betrayed me again.

Even if things fall to pieces.

You are the reason I breathe.

V wrapped both arms around you, pressing his forehead to yours as the words hung in the air for a few seconds. What was that expression he wore on his face? Something between thankfulness and...regret. Was he thinking of what happened in the Qliphoth tree again, about the moments he lied to you and became Vergil again? It had never clicked before, but...if V had been awake and present, he saw every reaction you had, every tear and heartache. It would explain why he couldn’t let go of his guilt, or why he felt the need to thank you every day for staying with him.it was so hard to move past all of that, but...you did have four months to work things out with friends and family while Vergil spent it all in hell.

Regardless...you knew these things could be worked on with time, and V was more than worth the effort.

So you smiled, pressing a light kiss to V’s nose before pulling back and reaching for the phone resting on your window sill. V took the hint pretty easily, letting out a quiet yawn as he pulled away and stretched his long arms over his head. You tried not to stare, really you did--but christ, he was so lovely. His muscles bunching and relaxing, skin of his shoulders marked with your kisses and bites... We have things to do today, no staying in bed. The movement slipped his length from your body, causing a light shiver and sigh in response while you say up as well. Making love in the morning was nice, but you would both need a shower after throwing the sheets in the washer. A small price to pay, one that you were willing to deal with.

V took up the task of cleaning you up at the very least, leaving the bed briefly to get a washcloth from the bathroom cabinet. It gave ample opportunity to stare at his cute little butt as he departed, which was an absolute delight. He smirked at you on the way down, not oblivious to your wandering eyes in the slightest. Some forethought made him grab sweatpants from the banister before heading toward the door, which was probably for the best--on the off chance someone came home early, seeing him naked would not be ideal.

Upon a brief glance at your phone, you saw it was ten thirty in the morning, giving plenty of time to shower and get ready for lunch at noon. There would be no viable excuse for being late, and it would be rude to the children on top of all of that. You never wanted to upset or disappoint them after all the terrible things that happened all those months ago, so it was the bare minimum you could do. A yawn left your own lips, flopping back on the bed and counting each peaceful second as it passed. Some time out in the city would be lovely, wouldn’t it? The smiling faces of your friends, delicious meal at a local cafe or restaurant...perfect. Everything felt like heaven.

It was on that thought that V returned, cleaning you up and helping gather the sheets to throw in the washer. You smiled when your gazes met, gathering clothes to wear out and heading for the stairs.

“I’m going to shower,” You announced to him, feeling his eyes on your ass as well while pulling on a light robe for modesty, “We should hurry up and get ready to meet Kyrie.”

V let out a low hum of agreement, footfalls following close behind as you entered the hallway, “Maybe we should bathe together, my sparrow?” He leaned over your shoulder, pressing a light kiss to your ear as he whispered, “I believe it will be beneficial to us both.”

Of course he would think that. You giggled lightly, turning around to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Depends on how quickly you get those clothes in the washer, slim,” You breathed, pinching his cheek with gentle fingers, “And only if you promise to be on your best behavior.”

V’s returning smirk was downright evil, jade eyes meeting yours as he stroked his fingers over you chin.

“Oh darling...you and I both know I am a gentleman before anything else.”

(Nero POV)

Nero had never been so glad to get out of a meeting early.

He and Nico were already driving back through the streets of Fortuna, heading for Madame Elenor’s considering they were able to head home earlier than expected. Honestly, why had they bothered coming by in the first place? The maps could have been sent via photo or email, but Dante and Vergil didn’t seem to have a god damn brain cell between them. His uncle in particular had a cell phone and an ancient computer, but only used the phone to play a really shitty version of tetris. As for his father...well. Spending so long in hell and other places had left him a bit out of tune with technology.

Regardless, they had gotten the needed information on the coming mission and swung back to catch the earliest ferry home. Dante and Vergil had been arguing about flowers of all things as Nero left, which Nico had agreed was incredibly strange. Neither of the two had any idea why the older men had flaked on what would be a friendly lunch in Fortuna, but whatever it was had them in...a bit of a mood. Nero wanted no part of it, and had practically dragged Nico out the door once the bare minimum amount of information had been met. Location? Check. Client? Check. Demon types they would be facing? You bet your ass that was another check on the list. And from there he would leave the planning to Dante and Vergil before they actually set out.

For now, he would stop by the shop and see how the kids were doing in their crafting efforts. Then the whole group could walk to whatever restaurant they decided on, maybe settle the day off with some time swimming on the beach or a bonfire. After the past week of work and demon hunting, some relaxation wouldn’t hurt anybody--hell, even Nico seemed excited at the prospect of having some free time to sunbathe, claiming she needed to work on her tan and rest her weary fingers. Nero wanted nothing more than to have some time with his wife, seeing her beautiful hair glow in the sun and a bathing suit…

He flustered himself a bit. She was so lovely it made him crazy.

“Jeez, it’s so obvious when you’re thinking about Kyrie,” Nico’s loud complaint made him jolt, looking over from the passenger side of the van to see her shutting off the engine and smirking mischievously, “You always get the goofiest, dopey smile on your face.”

He tried to scoff and play it off as nonchalantly as possible, but it was hard when his cheeks and ears were still tinged pink. Plus he doubted there was getting past Nico’s eagle eyes no matter how hard he tried.

“Lay off, Nico,” He huffed, scratching the back of his head and ignoring her chortles as he hopped out of the van, “So I love my wife--sue me.”

“You sure fuckin’ do, psycho,” Nico snickered, whapping him a little too hard on the back. Meanwhile, her other hand pocketed the keys to her van in those usual shorts she wore, “Just make sure to put on sunscreen today--Kyrie ain’t gonna fuck a tomato and I can’t see your sorry ass blush when you’re burnt like a marshmallow.”

She was certainly relentless in the insults today. Nero tried not to get more flustered, instead rolling his eyes in response to her taunts and pulling open the door to the Madame’s shop. The front windows were lined with costumes and small set pieces, a little bell jingling above them to sound of their arrival. It would seem Eleanor closed her shop early to make time for the kids, a “closed” sign hanging in plain view. But the door had been left unlocked for them, so Nero and Nico started making their way past the lines of costumes to the back area where they knew the kids would be hard at work.

“Madame…! How does it look?”

“Kyrie, I can’t find the pink paint!”

“I have the paint, sweetie--you’re painting trees right now, you need green.”

The children’s excited voices clamored within earshot, making Nero smile and press through the doorway. They were met with a medium sized room with sewing materials, an open archway leading to an open courtyard lined with cut out prop pieces being painted by the group of eager kids. The ones from their orphanage were here, mingling with some kids Nero only vaguely recognized from seeing them occasionally around the city. It was nice--seeing the young ones they cared about spending some time with others their age was a nice change of pace. Nero was also surprised to see you and V here earlier than them--this was one of the few days no one would be home all morning without interruption, so the fact that you were already present was unexpected. You were cross-legged on the floor, helping Emma with her brushstrokes and smiling cheerfully.

Even more surprising was V, hoisting a child up on his shoulders so they could reach the very top of a tree with green paint. He wore an apron over his black button up shirt and grey slacks, but it didn’t save his face from being smeared with some color. The poet didn’t seem to mind, nodding along to whatever the boy was saying and calmly replying to his questions with a small smile. As for Kyrie, she was on her knees beside Julio and Carlo, tracing a template for them to paint on and showing them the proper way to mix colors for what they needed. And boy if Nero wasn’t so smitten, seeing her hair pulled into a messy bun, hands stained with the colors of a rainbow and eyes filled with love and adoration for the kids.

God damn he was so lucky.

Nico rolled her eyes at the dopey look on his face, brushing past him just as Madame Elenor stood from her corner with the other kids, walking over with a limp in her step and wiping paint on the apron she also wore. The children from the orphanage waved and yelled in excitement when they saw Nero and the mechanic, but were so focused on their tasks that they didn’t get up. Which was for the best--they were covered in paint all over their little hands, and he would rather not clean purple and green out of his good clothes. Instead, the white haired boy smiled at his wife, turning away from her gaze to greet the woman helping the kids with this project.

“Nero, so glad you could join us,” The Elderly woman greeted him with a warm smile, wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth as she grasped his hands, “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

The Madame had always been an incredibly kind woman. Getting up there in years, old age starting to slow her down a bit but not stopping the creativity and hard work. Nero could respect that.

He smiled lightly in response, wincing a bit at the sight of paint now on his fingers once she pulled away. Figures, “Thanks for helpin’ out with the kiddos, they’re having a good time,” Laughter punctuated his words, making the two look up and see Julio and Carlo giggling as they smeared paint on their faces. Kyrie chasing after with a handkerchief, of course, “The play too. Can’t remember the last time the theater set up anything worth doing.”

The elderly woman snorted, rolling her eyes as she settled on a nearby workbench to rest her weary legs, “Certainly. Making costumes for period dramas grew very tiresome--it’s a lot more energetic to work with the younglings.”

That was definitely an understatement. The devil hunter doubted the old woman had this much excitement in a while. But she seemed pleased about all of the activities going on, pale blue eyes tired but happy as she watched the kids make quick work of another prop, setting it up to dry in the wind and sun. Kyrie helped steady a little girl’s brushstrokes, the light making her hair glow a beautiful shade of auburn as she asked you a question. And that was a nice change of pace too--seeing you in such high spirits, smile no longer tampered by grief or pain and glowing bright as well. You seemed to be in your element among the kids, patient and kind enough to answer all their questions and help when needed. Very similar to his wife in a lot of ways--she had been a very good teacher, after all.

Nero let out a low sigh, leaning against the doorway and folding his arms as he watched the peaceful scene continue. Madame Elenor followed his stare, an amused grin tilting her lips as he kept a watchful gaze on his wife and family. The adoration and devotion was very apparent.

“I’m glad to see you’re finally settling down,” The woman commented, drawing Nero’s attention away briefly and meeting his gaze, “You were such a rebellious teenager--Kyrie is very good for you, such a kind and peaceful woman...her mother was the same way.”

She was one of the few people that didn’t tell Nero that Kyrie was too good for him, something he appreciated. As for her mother...he remembered her kindness too, and it was not lost on him.

So he let out a slow breath, smiling ruefully and scratching the back of his head, “I’m a lucky guy, there’s no mistake there...I don’t know what I would do without her.” She really was something special, carrying so much love and kindness in her body he sometimes wondered if there was any room for hate or animosity. Even when things upset her, she bounced back so fast he often wondered if she hid things away as to not burden others. But there was always communication, always talking with him and explaining how she felt about certain things.

There was always trust, and he needed that more than anything.

Elenor let out a pleased hum at his response, nodding a few times and pushing her glasses up a bit. Those pale blue eyes scanned the courtyard, watching as you and V started helping pull a tarp over one of the dried prop pieces, kids standing all around to aid. Nero wasn’t watching her expression then, more focused on making sure none of the kids were doing anything to hurt themselves or spilling any paint on their clothes. The children from the orphanage still had to go out to lunch after this, but the other kids would be picked up by parents and family members. So focused as he was, he didn’t notice the curious look on the Madame’s face, the searching one as she kept her eyes on you. Observing as you laughed, picking up one of the kids and pressing a kiss to their cheek.

So that’s why it surprised him when the elderly woman spoke again, her voice low and thoughtful as she murmured, “Your other friend is like her mother too.”

That certainly made Nero blink. He turned, staring at the Madame in confusion and seeing a faraway look in her eyes, one of remembrance and wistfulness. What the hell was she talking about? There was no way she could have known your mother, right?

“What do you mean…?” Nero asked slowly, brow furrowed as the Madame turned to meet his perplexed gaze.

She pursed her lips, head tilted in your direction as another prop was covered slowly and carefully, “I never forget a face, you know that,” The elder locked her eyes on you again, frowning now as she watched the children interact and clamor in excitement, “Even one I’ve seen a long time ago--I can remember the faces of Kyrie’s parents perfectly, and I remember another face too. A woman used to come into my shop years ago, a year before you were even at the orphanage I think...she looked just like Y/N, spitting image.”

...What?

Nero stared in blank shock, brain not sure what to do with the information and halting like the screeching of tires. Someone who was the spitting image of you in this city, before he was even born? But...how was that possible? Surely not, there was no way you would have a parent in Fortuna, that was very clear after all the information they learned about your past. Even while not knowing anything about your family, you were firm in the fact that it was a different dimension entirely. Wisps of memories, small feelings and Foresight told the truth in your statements--not to mention the fact that the Outsider changed your appearance after your first death to distance you from the life you lead. A fresh start, an entirely new you--even your name had been picked by him. From what you could gather, your parents lived in a small town anyway, not a city. So...how?

How could someone be here that looked just like you? Maybe the elder had finally gone senile, maybe it was just a simple mistake? But...practically everyone in Fortuna knew of her memory. Hell, the old woman could recall days from his childhood that blurred even for Kyrie and himself. Faces, names, events...Old age never soured her mind, not for a second. Conviction was in her tone, eyes firm and certain as she stared at you, like seeing a memory from long...long ago.

But...that couldn’t be right.

This didn’t make sense.

You said you’d never been to Fortuna before, this dimension before.

So...why?

Nero’s tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth, heartbeat starting to pick up while his head tried to piece things together, bit by bit. You were prone to having your memory erased, right? So...maybe you had been to this place before, without even realizing it? It was possible, especially with how unpredictable the Outsider was. But...didn’t the God only erase your memories with trauma? And what could he have sent you to do in Fortuna at the time? The Order of the Sword hadn’t been affected, and no big events had gone on until they were taken down. Not unless there was an event you did manage to prevent, one he didn’t know about.

The devil hunter couldn’t find it in himself to reply, even as the Madame continued on wistfully in her story. And as the words continued to flow, his trepidation grew in spades, like icy fingers tapping their way along his spine.

“Timid little thing, she came in a few times to help me with odd jobs in return for coin and food,” The Madame sighed, closing her tired eyes and pausing briefly as she remembered the past, “She started coming by less and less, spending time with a tall, cloaked sword-wielding man walking the streets. An outsider like herself, I think. And then...well, I stopped seeing her at all. I got worried for a little while that something had happened to her after rumors circled the town but…”

The Madame shrugged, smile returning as she watched you hug Kyrie around the waist and giggle about whatever joke was said, “Her daughter is alive and well, a very kind person. If she turned out this way, I have no doubt that her mother ended up safe as well--I imagine the cloaked man she was with must have got her off the island before the Order fell...I just wished she would stop by and say hello before then.”

A...cloaked man?

Rumors?

The woman slowly rose to her feet, wincing when her bones creaked and ached in protest, “I’ll have to ask your friend about her parents another day, when things aren’t quite so busy. It’s strange...she shares the same name as her mother too, which is a bit...odd. But she’s far too young to be the same woman.”

She didn’t notice Nero’s frozen expression, especially not when a couple kids ran up to her and loudly asked for help with a prop. Walking away before any more questions could be asked, things seeming to pass in slow motion for a brief second. He wasn’t able to move, watching numbly as she was pulled away by tiny hands, chuckling lightly at their enthusiasm. Things seemed so normal in comparison to the new truth laid at his feet--the kids didn’t notice Nero leaning against the doorway, a hand on his mouth and posture frozen in place. Nor did you, V, or Kyrie. All so focused on the task at hand, while he was left wondering just what the fuck was going on.

The elderly woman’s words had...struck a heavy chord of unease, one that gripped him in its tight vise and refused to let go no matter how hard Nero tried.

His mind was working overtime, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on with so little information in front of him. Same name, same face...that had to be you, right? What the hell happened to you in Fortuna all those years ago, if he was to believe what Elenor claimed to be true? If you could travel from dimension to dimension, what was stopping the chance of going to a certain place twice? It was completely probable that Fortuna could have been one of your mission places, but...maybe you had failed? Something traumatic must have happened, and you had each memory erased. The Order of the Sword could have been a big target, but…

But.

The timing of it...was far too uncomfortable for Nero’s liking.

A lot of these things were.

Nero’s brain was connecting things he absolutely should not be trying to connect--but it wouldn’t stop, it refused to. Not with this new information, not with things he had felt on the edge of his consciousness for a long...long time.

He had heard rumors too...hadn’t he? When trying to figure out the identity of his parents as a teenager, asking anyone who would listen if they could remember anyone dropping a baby off at the orphanage. Claims ranging from it maybe being a teenage mother who made a mistake, him being a cursed twin left by a frightened family. Ect, ect. But...those all came up empty. And besides, he had demonic blood in his veins, so anything stating he came from normal humans was implausible anyway. No, he only took to heart things that could actually depict something other than human.

And a couple tales came to mind. Not ones he heard while searching out his parents, but rather things heard in passing. Demon attacks were a common thing in the city until the Order fell, but people who actually held their own against the creatures outside of said Order were...rare. Nero remembered tales of an inhuman man in a cloak who once traveled the city streets for a short time, witnesses seeing him take out demons with speed and precision no mere mortal could have. As a teenager, it had all seemed so silly--why should he think that this man had to be his father, especially with nothing to go on? This apparent stranger came and went in a matter of a couple months, leaving no trace behind.

In retrospect...that did sound like Vergil, a lot like Vergil. Tall, cloaked, deadly and precise. Wielding a sword, obviously. But...Nero hadn’t put much thought into the stranger’s companion this late in his life, not when he was still trying to grasp the fact that he had a father in the first fucking place.

Less was known about her--a lady in red, according to a few passing voices that could barely recall the tales. After all, why did such things matter years later? Those people were gone, but some fleeting memories remained. Coming and going from Fortuna was incredibly rare, outsiders stuck out like a sore thumb and were generally met with wariness and fear back then. Some rumors claimed she was human, but a few more...a few more mentioned powers too, didn’t they? He had waved those away--he was mostly human, right? Mostly human meant only partial demon, the woman had to be human.

Had to be.

Right?

But…

The timeline...the timeline. It fit, didn’t it? This woman who looked like you was in Fortuna before he was in the Orphanage, a year before. Around the time Vergil was in Fortuna, a tall, cloaked man with a sword. There was no fucking way that could be anyone else, right? You already stated your age was a question mark after traveling for the Outsider for so long, and visiting to the same dimension twice without remembering it was...plausible. If something trauma based had happened to you in Fortuna...it would explain why you disappeared without warning, especially when he considered the fact that you had not been with his father when all the conflict between him and Dante had occurred. At least...that’s what he assumed.

Vergil would have remembered your face, though, wouldn’t he? But...his father claimed to have lost memories after a particularly bad run in with Mundus, avoiding the topic like the plague and growing agitated whenever Nero brought it up. So the younger Sparda learned to stop asking about it, not wanting to fuck things up when the once-surly male was clearly trying his best. Although that was what he claimed, Nero had always felt there might have been more knowldge to find, especially with the mentioned trials.

Thinking back on it...Nero’s foreboding grew in spades, leaps, and bounds.

You had eventually spoken of what happened in the Void, Vergil forced to go through three trials in punishment for his actions. The first was reliving the trauma of his mother’s death, the second seeing what happened with Mundus and becoming Nelo Angelo. And the third...well, your memory went blank at the third, fairly certain that the Outsider took your memory of it, but not knowing why. It was of little consequence at the time--you were just happy to have V back, and didn’t put any thought into it.

Nero had asked his father in passing about it, and V too since they seemed to share memories. Both clammed up at the third trial, Vergil stating curtly that it was a part of his past he’d rather not repeat aloud or bring into light, and V...well, V replied that Vergil’s memories weren’t his to share, nor were his traumas or mistakes. And it ended with that, Nero shrugging it off just as easily now that things had seemingly grown so calm.

But now...less calm. There was a reason your memory of the third trial had been removed, especially if that reason was…

That’s not possible.

Nero turned, stalking back into the shop before anyone could notice the growing look of panic and confusion on his face. Both hands ran through his hair, heart pounding in his ears as he walked out to the van and leaned against its metal form, trying to talk out of his own reasoning and just carrying the disbelief and fear in circles. Not many people were on this street so early in the day, more than likely on the square or on the beach so there would be no one to see him trying to collect himself.

Vergil wasn’t the type to screw around with multiple women, that was obvious. But he was the type to reluctantly start traveling with one, maybe get too close. If something bad happened, if you had died...there would be no memory, no trace, no knowing him. Maybe no knowledge of having a...

There is no fucking way.

Nero felt his blood run cold, brain scrambling with this knowledge and sending off several warning bells that made him feel sick to his stomach. There was no way, right? This was stupid, foolish, idiotic--his head was just doing things it shouldn’t connecting dots that weren’t there.

As hard as he tried to tell himself that...the seed of doubt had been planted, and it was flourishing. He couldn’t even form the proper words or coherent thoughts, unable to even comprehend it. His friend, his best friend...the same one he had laughed with at home, messing up your hair, calling each other “jackass” at any given moment, flinging food at the dinner table. The one who he watched fall apart in the Qliphoth, who he had carried home and helped build back up for so long. There was no way that you could be his...no. That wasn’t possible, and as much as he wanted to ask…

He couldn’t, could he?

Memories of trauma were taken for a reason. According to you, the Outsider only took things that were too overwhelming for you to handle. Things that could break you, weights to heavy to bare. If he asked you about it, made you remember something on accident…That wasn’t a risk that could be taken. But there were other ways to find out, right? Maybe that would be best, a simple DNA test without your knowledge could easily show him that this theory was foolish and contrived, take the burden off his shoulders and allow things to continue in peace as they were.

But...what if it only proved the truth? Would he be able to keep treating you like a friend as before, would he even be able to look at you the same way?

He couldn’t live with this ignorance...somehow, not knowing seemed worse.

I need to know. I need to be sure.

Even if it changes things...I spent so long not knowing.

Now that the thought is there...I need to do something or else it’ll get worse.

And even if he did find out it was true, what did he have to change? His mind was starting to calm, looking for reason and stability anywhere he could find it. You were his best friend, incredibly kind and caring to everyone around--even in the Qliphoth, making sure people were eating, encouraging him when it seemed like no one else would. If the truth came to light that after all this time, after all the wondering, hate, and resentment that maybe he wasn’t an unwanted child...It was startling, it went against everything he taught himself. If you had died, if you didn’t remember anything...it was very possible that he had been loved, right? You definitely weren’t the type to just throw away your flesh and blood, there was so much love in your heart, like Kyrie. But...it made sense if things happened outside of your control, a tragedy.

If he found out that...you were his mother, after all this time...then wouldn’t that be a relief? To know his mother was just a timid, lost girl under the guidance of a distrustful God, one who went through something terrible and wasn’t able to keep him--compared to all the ideas of him being abandoned for being partially demon, of his mother not wanting him, this was a blessing in comparison. And he could hold his tongue, bottle it all in even if he knew the truth. Because at the end of the day, you had always been family, his friend...All he wanted was the truth, and if he could get it then that would be enough.

I was wrapped in a cloth when Kyrie’s mother found me on the doorstep, dry despite the rain. The cloth was stained in blood, like whoever gave birth had me and dropped me off not long after.

Nero made up his mind, resolve snapping in place like steel chords inside and binding every decision in place. By the time Kyrie emerged with the kids an hour later, he had a casual smile on his face again, all the traces of panic and confusion tampered down even when you emerged with an arm locked around V. Smiling, happy, greeting him with a nudge of your elbow and a teasing comment about Vergil and Dante giving him a hard time. No one would notice anything was amiss with him, at least...that’s what he hoped.

“...Nero?”

The white-haired boy paused, lagging behind the group a bit as they started walking toward the square. You and Nico holding the kids hands, Kyrie pulling Nero’s arm with her gentle fingers and staring at him in worry.

But all he could muster was a small smile, leaning down to kiss the top of her head while pulling her along toward the others.

“Later, I promise.”

Kyrie’s eyes missed nothing, but this wasn’t something he could talk with her about, not yet at least. He needed to be certain, things needed to be proven and solid first. If the white-haired boy discovered that his theories were wrong and just his brain foolishly searching for what wasn’t there...well, he would tell his wife and have a little laugh, and maybe wonder about what happened to you in Fortuna all those years ago. She only nodded at his words, still seeming concerned but lacing her fingers with his as they caught up to the group just as they were deciding on the restaurant. You briefly looked at him, as if sensing his off mood yourself, but...knew not to say anything.

If it was the truth...Nero would tell Kyrie, warn her not to bring it up to you. And then he would ask Vergil about it, proof in hand and get the story from his mouth. Because there was no doubt that he and V both knew something that they weren’t telling.

Nero would be able to keep his cool through lunch, through everything. Arguing with Nico, talking with the kids, watching you laugh with Kyrie and the others while one hand grasped V’s tightly. There was truth to be had, but at the end of the day you would always be his family and friend above all other things. And that came first, your well-being always came first.

Some things were more important.

If he discovered you were this woman in red, his mother...then he would get the story from Vergil and be done with it. Just being able to know both parents was something Nero thought he’d never have, and to know his mother was someone kind and sweet in comparison to Vergil? Well...he could live with that, could go on being your friend without changing a damn thing if it meant saving you from trauma. Life would go on as always, but he would just have one less mystery hanging over his head.

There was definitely a truth to be had. But at the end of the day...family was family. And he was willing to do whatever it would take to defend it.

“Hey Nero?”

The boy looked up as he walked alongside his wife and the children, seeing you looking at him with mischief in your expression. The afternoon light making your hair glow, one arm locked with V’s as he chuckled at whatever you had cooking up.

Nero swallowed down the hesitation and uncertainty, replying easily enough, “Yeah?”

You grinned, jabbing him in the side once with a hint of challenge in your tone, one he easily caught onto, “When we get back, we should spar on the beach. You, me, and some good old-fashioned water guns.”

What was that in your expression? A hint of concern, worry for him that you were trying to mask with playfulness. She’s worried, and trying to cheer me up--Nero clicked that in place right away, knowing damn well that sparring was one of his ways to blow off steam. Of course you caught onto his unease as well, just as observant as Kyrie. He felt his wife squeeze his hand too, punctuating the offer with support of her own.

And it was in that moment, Nero realizing how very blessed he was. To have people who cared and loved him that much, to have a chance of discovering his mother was something like you, someone already close to him. It made him smirk a bit, picking up Carlo from where he walked with the other kids and letting the boy hug him around the neck.

“You’re on,” He replied with a low smirk, eyeing V at your side and adding cockily, “Bet I could take you and Shakespeare on at once.”

V rose a simple brow at that, lips quirking up in a smile as he replied with a low chuckle, “You can certainly try.”

The kids all chattered in excitement, wanting in on the battle and eager at the prospect of playing with super soakers. Nico seemed to want in on it too, pinching one of Nero’s cheeks and claiming she would ally herself with him in this so called “battle”. Nero was willing to bet there would be treachery afoot, but Kyrie would always be there to back him up in the long run.

They all would. And when the truth eventually came...that would always remain the same.

~The End~

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