#sleeplesswork

[archivedsorrow]

send this emoji to ten lovely blogs, but instead of those chain things, it’s me sending till to give ivan a hug (( or smooch )) while i very slowly work on that ask …. sir deserves some affection 👉👈

( @sleeplesswork )

he'd been rubbing, scratching at the silvered brand of his name, all but seared into his wrist. he'd never liked it— doubted anyone did —always preferring long sleeves to cover it up. out of sight, out of mind, as he'd learned that saying, and while there was some truth to it, it didn't exactly stop the ocassional itch against the fabric of his clothes, and the way he felt the bumps upon his skin anytime he ran his other hand over it.

it was a bitter reminder of his origins, something that he hadn't even bothered asking hyuna about— he'd seen her own, and determined they likely didn't have the technology to get rid of these. it made him question this 'freedom' every so often; who was to say the segyein couldn't just snatch them back at any point, if they really wanted to?

ivan's wrist had been bleeding at this point, causing a small grimace to twist his features, before he firmly squeezed around the entirety of it to try and stop it from getting any worse. he hadn't exactly meant to break skin like that, causing small, crimson rivulets to gather around the edges of the brand, but he couldn't stop. he didn't even turn to look once light had permeated into the room, able to recognize the sound of those footsteps anywhere.

it was, perhaps, the first time where he'd struggled to put on a smile for till. raven hair obscured the frown that further darkened his visage, more reminiscent of the gloomy boy he once used to be. or perhaps one that he still was, beneath all those fake laughs. he didn't know what till wanted, and for once, he didn't... particularly care to bother him about it.

if only he'd lifted his head, he might've been more prepared for what followed. where slender arms had carefully wound themselves around ivan's shoulders, seemingly hesitating at first before squeezing lightly. “ ...? ” there was a faint, choked noise that caught in his throat, like he was attempting to voice something, but failing to do so. he was afraid to move. afraid that a single wrong move might suddenly ruin it all— he didn't hate this. in fact, just the opposite.

and he was afraid that till would let go. he didn't want him to. it's once that panic sets in his heart, that he awkwardly scrambles his arms upwards, desperately circling his fingers around the other's forearms, nails biting into skin.

don't leave. don't leave me. don't leave.

don't leave me.

[myristicisms]

@sleeplesswork | vergil;;

things were progressing, certainly not fast, but at a steady rate — a dripping faucet someone had forgotten to turn off, left broken. with every passing day, it was hard to determine whether he was finally getting a footing with everything or if he'd been falling for so long that the nothingness was beginning to feel like floor. . . the headache pounding behind his eyes didn't seem to dampen, but the reception the once angelo received at devil may cry was getting… friendlier. it wasn't exactly the word he'd use, but his presence no longer set off alarm bells, and vergil knew he didn't deserve any more than that. whilst he was trying to better himself — more for dante and nero's sake, and perhaps v's — his efforts were solely to be noticed and appreciated by himself and no one more. yet lady had started greeting him when she stormed into the office to bark something at dante. his brother was throwing his arm over his shoulder, and vergil was trying hard not to be repulsed by the touch ( though it often ended in a fight when his foolish twin refused to let go ). there was also nero, his son; while the boy clearly strived for them to have more of a connection, they were at a standstill, truthfully when vergil was dragged to visit the man's home, he spoke more to his human companion ( girlfriend ), than his spawn. another that came to mind was miriam, the woman who'd been most greatly affected by urizen's actions; whilst she may have despised him more than mary, they forged common ground. she'd started to offer her endless supply of home-cooked meals as-well, presenting them to vergil as if he had the right to judge whatever she created. it took an embarrassingly long time for the man to realise she'd been trying to offer him a meal.

how amusing, he shouldn't be thinking about warm meals as the blood on his hands chills, while what's left on his tongue burns so hot it's all he can focus on. the mangled caucus before him matters not; there's nothing left of it to eat that doesn't involve the stomach where he can smell the human remains. still, he stands there, staring, starving. the pain twists and curls its way through his suddenly full stomach, and yet he feels starved… when was the last time he'd eaten ? v had a couple of meals during his measly month of living, but she wasn't vergil. he couldn't die from a lack of nutrition, but he felt the pain; his hollow insides hadn't started aching until today, though.

in an almost mindless haze, he returns to the devil may cry, watching his bloodied hand push open the agency's front door as if it belonged to someone else. the feeling of being puppeteered was so familiar that it was almost comforting; once alarm bells would have gone off, now it granted a momentary respite from forcing heavy limbs to function without fail. though, in such a stupor, the devil had failed to notice a familiar shard binder within the building's walls.

Silence is tranquility, something she's come to note for many years and yet it still never leaves her feeling any easier. Miriam knows she's welcome where she's sat, the unlocked door of the building further vindicating the fact that the familiar albeit empty space of the business had been a place of conversation and solitude alike throughout the years and yet it doesn't leave her any more calm to be there without one of the residents of the place present and yet still she patiently waits. It's another night she'd intended to waste her time idly chatting with one of the brothers, perhaps preparing dinner for the residents seeing as they won't eat anything of substance if she doesn't. It's ridiculous how fulfilled she truly feels, being able to provide for someone again no matter how minor it was, Nero being out of the house had taken a lot of adjustment and even then the absence of his presence, of not having nearly as many leftovers as she now often does, it's all a reminder of just how quickly time passes and oh how she grieves the past.

Whatever the case it hardly mattered, she has other matters at the forefront of her mind, like how dusty the bar of Devil May Cry is despite having just been taken care of a few weeks ago or how much progress the elder of the twins was slowly inching towards in bettering himself. It wasn't asked of her but Miriam, for her own piece of mind, had been keeping an eye on the man, blue was a color of calmness, loyalty and leadership and while Vergil appeared to be those on the surface, he was a tornado of control and over domination when she'd first had the displeasure of truly meeting the man as Urizen. He's made great progress in bettering himself, slowly opening up to the prospect of new things and foolish a thing as it is she can't help but find some sort of softness for the otherwise prickly and cold man. Perhaps it is her own foolish desires to see the best in everyone regardless of the sins that taint their fingertips or maybe it's the fact that he was much like herself as far as circumstances go, whatever the case she couldn't bring herself to truly hate the elder of the spawn of Sparda.

Blunt nails gently dig into her thigh, a pinching reminder of what she nearly lost and yet again she falls deep into thought, memories swirling like a whirlpool of disdain and sorrow at just how terribly her time spent under Urizen's control had been; Despite being able to walk around again with hardly any issue, there still lingered the after effects of not maintaining her glyphs, her energy still sapped away and it's irksome how powerless she is as her body fully recovers many months after the fact. It's a miracle for her to be sat in the familiar building as she is just as it's a miracle for her to be able to witness a familiar figure stumble inside. She almost cracks a joke to him, the beginnings of a smile swiftly falling to concern as she stands and paces to the blood covered man. “ Vergil- ” She speaks up, voice uneasy as she holds a hand out in offering, not wishing to bother him with an unwelcome touch.

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

Random Asks | Always Open

@sleeplesswork asked: while the weiss combat simulator may be programmed to fight all that engage with it, the thing is still weiss, and clearly, it’s not thrilled with the fact it’s his younger brother that activated the program . . . (random little weiss ask for nero ~)

Nero paced the layout, assessing it, feeling for its weak points. He was waiting for him to stir, to come forth and engage with him. He wasn't making it clear whether or not he'd entered the simulation to battle, or to test it in another way.

He might as well test the accuracy. Besides, it had been a while since Weiss and him had been allowed to truly spare...perhaps this simulation could hold up against his energy and power long enough.

Finally, as Weiss materialized, he looked to him. Slit-pupil red eyes took in the look of him...strong and confident as ever, and his gaze softened before a spark flickered in that deep red.

"What is with the look, brother?" he questioned. "I could almost assume you aren't please to see me here. But I seek to test myself, as well as you. So will you give me what I want?"

He certainly hoped his brother would comply, thought he was willing to do what he must to coax him.

[evcryopeneye]

@sleeplesswork asked: for one reason or another, the party had made a pit - stop back in midgar, city of mako . . . it wasn’t something anyone would be particularly keen on, considering those in and affiliated with avalanche were the number one criminals wanted both in the slums and on the plate. but the plan had been to go in and out without being noticed, though when had the group ever been so fortunate ? . . . and yet it’s hard to say if it’s luck or not, when the young wutaian girl finds herself face to face with someone familiar . . . though his clothes are different, and his expression cold, there’s no doubt about it. sonon kusakabe stands before yuffie, a shinra trooper by his feet — almost giving off the appearance that he’d saved the girl if it weren’t for how his weapon was ready to give another blow. the shinobi gives momentary pause, mako - coloured eyes locking onto the girl he once knew.

She hated this place. 

The colour of the hallways. The way the air smelled stale. The fact that for some reason an ‘electric power company’ seemed to fucking hate lights. Yuffie hated it. Hated this place. Hated the company. Hated everything they stood for. Even standing here was enough to make the hair on the back of her neck stand up on end. 

Yet they were here, back here again, because of course fate seemed to have some twisted sense of humour. What else was she meant to do? Yuffie wanted nothing more to get this over with and get out of here, the funny quips and sass had been left at the door for once. This horrible feeling of impending door had washed over her the moment they'd stepped inside and now she knew why. 

A face she didn’t expect to see, staring back at her, recognisable and at the same time, a stranger. 

“Sonon?” His name fell from her lips as a soft question, a near whisper as dark eyes flickered across his features, trying desperately to find something. Despite his weapon being raised, Yuffie found herself too stunned to move. Eyes simply trained on him trying to rationalise this in any way possible…any kind of sense but there was nothing there. This situation was so out of left field that even the great shinobi Yuffie was floored.

[seiikat]

THREE WORD SENTENCE STARTERS || Accepting! { @sleeplesswork }

"Hmm? Nah, I don't wanna~"

The laugh that left Kouha was jovial as always, and the grin never left his face, even as he gently tugged at his elder brothers arm. His playful demeanor never faltered, even in the face of Koumei's... less than energetic attitude.

"Lighten up a little, Mei-nii. You're gonna get wrinkles." he teased with a hum.

[rake-rake]

@sleeplesswork

❝ i missed you. ❞ — millions knives to vash !

Things that you want to hear.

"...I know."

Because how could he not? They were twins, two halves of an all. Nai's absence echoes for Vash in every minute, every day, in every thing he wished he could share with him only to find himself staring into an empty space at his side.

"It's not nice, is it...? Like a hole— a missing piece... Always hurting..."

A constant pain of something missing, of something dear you didn't have anymore. It hurt, too much, and made him think back of better years and a life that seemed too far away now, and doubted— even if he wished— he could ever get back.

"And now, even though we're here, face to face... it's still there. No matter how much I try, I cannot get that piece back... I cannot reach you. Not when you don't want to be reached... Why don't you want to be reached, Nai...?"

[a-vctlan]

— angsty conversation prompts | @sleeplesswork :

what difference does it make ? — vergil to kyrie ( hehe, from your wish list, maybe kyrie can play therapist for this man who desperately needs it . . . )

Her hands clasp together, a self-soothing attempt as she tries and tries to reach out to the tattered bands of Vergil's humanity, held together in knots, distant and aloof, as if afraid he'd crumble if someone where to pull them apart.

Maybe he should, a part of her whispers, made to rebuild himself from the ashes of what he used to be… but she lets these thoughts lie, shaking her head as she tries again.

"Does it have to make a difference to matter?" Although her physique is frail, there is no waver in her voice as she speaks, her stubbornness not allowing her to let this lie unresolved. "Life is not about the peaks and valleys of our existence, and to reduce ourselves to only these things will leave you unfulfilled, craving more no matter how much you achieve."

She wrings her hands, briefly moving up to brush against the necklace that Nero gifted her, a small moment made into a precious memory for the mundane nature of it.

"I ask because there must be something you enjoy about the world, reasons that made you give us another chance." Defeatist words, understanding of the intricacies of his position - people like her are little more than prey animals to beings such as him, and yet like a deer she stands before him, doe eyes and a fluttering heartbeat. "It is true that the world is often cruel and senseless, taking away things precious to you… but I promise there is beauty in it too, and I would gladly help you find it, if you let me."

[hiislegacy]

Starter | Muse: Vincent

The collapse of the floor was unexpected, and were he not what he was, such a height would've been fatal. Several stories down, further than he thought possible for a place like this, until his golden boots landed on dark tile. He had heard of places so secret, more than anything known to the likes of his ranking within the Turks, even, but to find such rumors to be the truth was almost eye-opening. Of course, it made sense they'd have more than what was already common knowledge, hidden away beneath the very building of their main headquarters.

His gaze flickered around the darkness, and he went deeper into it, ignoring the debris that still fell in some places from the damaged structure. It wasn't clear why this had all collapsed from before, maybe from the stress of overall use, or of battles he and his companions had previously in it. Which, now of course made him wonder if the others were safe. Yes, he had escaped his immediate danger, but what of their whereabouts? Their rescue mission was proving to be more difficult, and they'd possibly just screwed up safely getting Cloud out of this facility, from his very recent kidnapping.

Vincent sighed, and pulled out his PHS device, trying to tamper with it. That dark screen flickering on and off several times, with his knob turnings and inputs not working; a voice was heard, Barret's maybe, and then it was garbled static. Annoyed, he kept trying as he walked more into the space that was gradually becoming larger in volume. "Barret, do you copy?... Tifa? Anyone?" He'd say whenever the line was opened in a hum, before more static would come through.

@sleeplesswork

[mingos]

@sleeplesswork ❤️'d for a loaded question. // (law)

　　　❝ would you prefer to know the exact date you'll die, or not? ❞

[belovedcorvid]

i wanna give cora a smooch on the cheek… not from law or anything, just from this pink haired stranger not even half his size ;0

❣︎ | Unprompted :: Always Accepting |

!!! Cute ! Cue all the flustered, even if he has to crouch down or sit on the floor. The bird deserves all the kisses - I've written about it before, but writing for this character feels like the warmest hug, and usually makes me feel better after a trying day.

However . . . this clarification is not going to stop C.ora from giving L.aw a smooch on the forehead to leave a makeup print behind.

[infintasmal]

𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

@sleeplesswork : " i suppose it's not easy going to war against friends. " — from arba to paimon !! The Dragon Republic

Paimon, a woman so characterized by her smile and warmth, now looks on, pained and distressed. She clutches her hands in front of her chest, just over her heart as it quickens. She tries to smile but it falls short.

"War is never easy. It is senseless and hateful. But to lose a friend to that hate is like a war fought in the heart, that which can shatter the soul. I hate that most of all," she says, quiet, still trying to appear bright and confident. "But it is never too late to come back to someone's heart. You-- no matter how time has changed us, were always treasured as my friend. I will not throw away those days of happiness and peace, I will fight to bring them back. Even if we stand against each other, I will always have loved that friendship we all shared. It saved me. I only wish I could do the same," now her smile is back, wide and hopeful in her remembrance.

[archivedsorrow]

❛ what are you smiling at ? ❜ — till to ivan !!

( @sleeplesswork / prompted. )

his gaze was trained upon till, with ocassional minute shifts noticeable in ivan's eyes. from taking in the other's facial features, posture, body language as a whole, the music notes and sketches alike that he was scribbling down onto the paper, to the finer details like the way his hair fell into his eyes, and the way he had ocassionally pushed it away once it has gotten annoying enough. the ravenette was quiet in his observations, as he usually was, but he hoped that his presence wouldn't go entirely ignored by the man either.

“ ... ? ” he tilted his head, confused. was he smiling? he hadn't even noticed. not until now, when his smile only grew, since till had acknowledged him! “ you, of course. i love the way you look when you're invested in your passions. it's cute. ”

[myristicisms]

Languid as ever, fire fist stays laid-back with hardly a care in the world. He had no worries at the moment, after all what was there to worry about when you lived a life with no regrets? He's long since earned the right to indulge himself a bit with ridiculous antics. Those antics, unfortunately, were directed to the raven haired woman that towered over him, something of which always left a ridiculous grin atop his features. “ C'monnn, that's when you make time! ” Freckled features contort with the way his lips move, honey eyes fixating on Trafalgar intently. “ Besides, it's not like you have anything better to do anyways, don't you get bored being so serious and professional? ”

@sleeplesswork | law

“ i don't have time for "fun." ”

— a lil ask from fem!law >^<

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

Regress Meme | Open

@sleeplesswork asked: regress - and one for weiss and nero of course ~

Everything felt wrong. It felt as if the work was scraping away at his senses, screaming at his presence. He felt like any moment, he would be shoved far, far, far away, deep into something else. He wasn't sure why this was happening, why he was feeling this, and if he was feeling it all so strongly because he'd escaped that stupid heavy outfit the doctors made him wear. They were changing uniforms, given that now he was seven, he was growing bit by bit again and his attire would need to be adjusted.

He just remembered running, his senses, his power, overwhelming, spilling, bursting, until he tripped here.

And he kept stumbling and running, as he finally, FINALLY sensed something familiar. A harsh, strong, heavy beacon of pure energy. It...he knew it, it was so deeply familiar and ingrained in his mind and his heart, but it was heavier now. It was MORE now. He could barely care about why. Bare feet slapped across cold ground, a torn black gown flowing around him, and a few bandages fall away to be consumed in the darkness trailing behind him, occasionally consuming metal and such from the flooring and the walls when he'd almost trip or run into a wall.

Finally, he found it...and he stared, in horror.

White hair. It was his. That energy...it was his! But this...? This was not right...! THIS WOULD NOT BE!!

His brother, his dear brother, his beloved brother and protector...bound to a harsh thrown. A sob tore from trembling lips past jagged and irregular teeth, tears dropping slowly from red eyes torn between rage and sadness and a fear he'd never felt.

"Brother!!" the young boys voice broke out then, a cry of despair, of anger, of desperation, before black tendrils formed from flowing darkness, and reached to take hold of every chain binding the bound man. They gripped until the metal creaked and whined. And the boy cried again, "BROTHER!! WEISS!! LET GO!!!"

His eyes shown with power, and the tendrils tore the chains apart, leaving the man unbound once more. Breathing unevenly, controlling sobs and failing, careful footsteps were taken until he was just a few steps away from the thrown and where his brother sit, unsure if he was even conscious. And then the sobs overtook him as the darkness eased around him, like a blanket hanging behind him as he threw himself upon his brothers lap, holding on to what he could reach for dear life.

[belovedcorvidarchive2024]

❣ | @sleeplesswork :: plotted thing about Cora's scary Marine Uniform |

---

His clumsy hands still struggled with the buttons, the cufflinks.

Maybe now more-so, he supposed, than when he had when he'd last had to wear this formal sort of uniform ages ago. It had all but disappeared with covert work, and that was one thing he'd enjoyed about it - there was none of this posturing, no obsession with rank and casting a specific, imposing image for one's colleagues. When he was on assignment, he could be just a person, just a guy... and usually a guy whose hands didn't have to deal with very many tiny buttons. Even after months of recovery, of learning to walk again and write and a thousand other things, to feel thwarted in this moment by such a small task was a very familiar kind of exhausting. What was meant to be a sigh of exasperation came out more like a pained huff as he hung his head and leaned heavy on his crutch, letting go of the shirt he'd been fussing with in favour of just starting over once he noticed he'd misaligned the buttons. The bandages that still dotted his hands, his face, his torso were thin and mostly protective, meant to keep set stitches from catching on things now that he was upright and moving again (kind of). Unfortunately, upright and moving again also meant that there would be work things for him to do; they'd been patient with him and his very slow, very non-linear recovery after all - Rocinante was sure they thought so.

So caught up was he in proving that he could do this small, simple task by himself that he failed to hear Law's quiet feet as he padded into the room. It wasn't until he'd finished the buttons and winced at the weight of his officer's coat on his shoulders that he caught sight of the other's eyes in the mirror he'd been standing in front of, looking at him so strangely that he had to pause - task he'd been in the middle of momentarily forgotten. It had taken a while to learn to read Law because he was so used to keeping others out, had taken time travelling together to see him have other feelings and expressions besides angry and afraid; this expression looked complicated, and wasn't something Rocinante wanted to brush over or ignore. He turned in place carefully - always careful and slow, these days - to face the other a little more directly.

" Law ? " speaking was easier now, extensive physical damage to his lungs notwithstanding - he didn't try to hide the uncertainty or the concern that crept their way in to his voice, " You feeling okay ? "

[ramshacklestar]

@sleeplesswork sent || ♡ from ruggie !!

Send ♡ to see what my muse thinks of yours || Accepting

●●●●○ | ATTRACTION ●●●●○ | AFFECTION ●●●●○ | INTEREST ●●●○○ | LOYALTY ●●○○○ | TRUST

There is no question, she is definitely interested in Ruggie after all who else's fluffy ears can she rub and him eating pretty much everything/anything is also very beneficial, that way Yuu has a willing someone to try to food from her home and a honest boy to boot.

The trust is still a small bit skewed though now that she knows what his unique magic actually does, but to be fair she barely trusts anyone at NRC.