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minachan95-written-works-on-ao3 · 4 years

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Title : Perishing Little Flame on Winding Road (Chapter 7. Epilogue. Part 2)

Fandom: King of Fighters

Characters : Kyo Kusanagi, Kyo-1, Kyo-2, Kusanagi, Iori Yagami

Summary:

<…>…This imitation frowns and says in sad tone while starring at this Kusanagi ‘‘Hey, big bro, it’s your fault that we are given a life, which we didn’t asked for. How about it’s time to take some responsibility for your actions? So, let’s see who is really a freak and deserve to die or live…’’…<…> One day clones meets their archetype by an accident. How this encounter end? Read and find out.

AO3 Link

A week has passed since this replica was discharged from hospital. Even now staying in Yagami’s place didn’t seem as bad as he expected. At least this man isn’t that scary or violent as this clone feared. So, that cold piercing gaze may still remain yet gradually this redhead even started to exchange one or two phrases with Shiro. Maybe Kyo was right that this man isn’t that bad as may sound.

However, today this brunette have planned something different today. It seems that after telling about this, Kyo wasn’t so happy about it yet later on approved his decision. That’s right, Shiro wanted to visit clone graveyard and then telling ‘good-bye’ to his bros and ‘Nagi. So, after putting a pair of snickers, this clone was off. Fortunately, he could still recall the route from hospital to the graveyard. So, the bigger issue now was to find the way to hospital, thankfully for Kyo’s explanation, he shouldn’t get lost…hopefully.

After long wandering this clone reached the cemetery. It took couple hours to find the way yet now it was already a sunset. So, before going further, he wanted to let Kyo know what happened and that there is no reason to worry. After texting a quick message, he putted his cellphone back to the one of pants’ pockets and continued walking. Apparently, the cemetery was tidied up since that encounter. However, who done this? Were it some of the clones or could it be ‘Nagi himself? Or so now wondered this replica. In any case, first, he need to pay a visit for his brothers. Would they recognize him and how they going to react after not seeing after such a long time? This what made Shiro curious as he continued his way.

Meanwhile Yagami was carefully studying some kind of papers on the couch until he was disturbed by a phone call. Whoever was it, it has lot of guts to bother him in such a fine afternoon, or so told to himself this redhead as he lazily bends down towards coffee table to pick the cellphone. Apparently it was Kyo. Now he briefly answers in annoyed tone ‘‘Yes? What do you want?’’, it seems this Kusanagi sounded worried ‘‘Do me a favor, please…’’ after a short pause, Yagami could hear a sigh and this brunette continuing ‘‘Can you make sure that Shiro is fine? He just messaged me that he is fine yet even I can tell that something is fishy. What if he comes across that evil creature? Even if neither you or I don’t have a chance against him, then he may kill Shiro without blinking. So, can you check that no one would harm him during his trip?’’.

Iori only rolls his eyes at this request and backfires ‘‘Why can’t you do it by yourself? Just stop acting as worrywart parent and treating him as he was your child.’’. Of course, after this reply, this Kusanagi was speechless and remained silent. However, this brunette answers in slightly shaky tone ‘‘You know, I would not only kick your ass for this, but also later on I’ll make sure that you’ll beg that I would be merciful and gentler when…’’.

It seems that this brunette couldn’t finish this sentence and now this redhead playfully asks ‘‘When what?~’’. Kyo just back-fires with shyer tone ‘‘You better don’t wanna find out! ‘Cos then you’re screwed.’’ after a second he continues in serious tone ‘‘Anyway, I cannot be here now, ‘cos I have really important business to do. If I’m lucky enough, Shiro may not only have new identity, but also he could go out into public without worries. Finally, he may even get proper education and job.’’.

Yagami only sighs and replies ‘‘Fine. If that will stop you from whining, I’ll go. But where did he went?’’. Kyo simply answers ‘‘The same way where you found me and Shiro that day. He should be somewhere around there. So hurry up and if anything, call me, got it?’’as this redhead stands up, he replies ‘‘You worry too much, idiot. I’ll bring him by his collar and then make sure that I won’t hear or see how you two cuddling. So, if you have nothing else to say, I’m ending.’’, lastly, this brunette says in gentler tone ‘‘…Thanks.’’ and Iori just murmured as he finishes the call ‘‘You idiot.’’. It can’t be helped that even today he won’t have a calm afternoon, so, the sooner he’ll find this stupid brat, the sooner he can rest in piece. And thus, after this redhead puts his usual outfit, he leaves.

In meantime, Shiro finally reached a familiar storage. Even if he have left only for such a brief time, all of sudden he felt nostalgia and missing everyone. So, without waiting any longer, he knocked into iron door. Of course, he was greeted by one of clones asking ‘‘Who is there?’’, this replica replied in calm tone ‘‘Can you open the door? It’s me - Shiro.’’ and now the iron door was slightly opened and it seems one of clones was carefully watching through the gap. After awhile the door was completely opened.

Apparently, behind the door was a clone in purple, who was still at awe yet looked so pale and now started to tremble. This replica’s eyes become teary as he speaks up in quiet yet shaky voice ‘‘Shiro…But Big Bro…He told that you…that you…why? How?’’, poor replica couldn’t continue anymore, it was too hard. Even so, Shiro pulled this clone into hug and told ‘‘It’s so nice to see you again, Sakura. I missed you all. Sorry, but I couldn’t come earlier, because I was sent to hospital.’’, however, there no reply from this replica in purple, all he could do letting be embraced until he gradually stopped trembling.

Now so-called Sakura slightly with-draws until he could see Shiro’s face and addresses the prototype ‘‘So, it’s really you. But then why did Big Bro told that you were killed by that man?…I don’t get it at all. However, what happened then?’’. This clone sighs as he ruffles fellow replica’s hair and answers ‘‘Maybe he was not happy that I listened to Kyo instead of him. I tried to say to him that what he does is wrong. So, I might understand why he is mad at me or why did lie to you. However, then ‘Nagi lied to me about what kind of person our original is and bad-mouthed Doctor. Even to this day he hides that note, which Doctor Makishima left for me-’’.

However, it seems that these two were disturbed by annoyed voice from inside the storage ‘‘Oi, Sakura, what’s taking that long? Or do you want to fix door frame again?’’. This clone in purple was released from Shiro’s hug and asks him ‘‘Come. Let’s quickly go inside.’’ and Sakura takes the prototype’s hand and prompts to go inside. When both were inside, they were greeted by a swarm of curious gazes. One of clones, who wore green uniform pointed out ‘‘Sa-sakura, what a hell is this?! There is a ghost of Shiro next to you! Be-be careful or else he will haunt not only you but all of us!’’, however, this replica in purple pinches both cheeks of Shiro and explains in annoyed tone ‘‘Stop telling that he is dead! See? My hands don’t go through him and I can feel him.’’.

Now Sakura stops once he hears how the prototype began silently whine. After that he addresses this fellow clone in green ‘‘So, I was surprised as well, Sage. But it seems that Big Bro had his own reason to tell us that Shiro died.’’ and thus, this replica in purple addresses all clones ‘‘Everyone, listen! Apparently, our Big Bro doesn’t want to see Shiro again for some reason and we may get into big trouble, if he finds out that Shiro was here, but he has something that belongs to Shiro and doesn’t want to give it back. So, let’s find one note, which suppose to belong to Shiro.’’.

However, one clone in black objects ‘‘Are you going to rebel against Big Bro?’’, but once this replica in purple about to say something, Shiro explains ‘‘Kuro, everyone, this is the last time when I can see you ever again. I really want to be with you all, but there is no way, not after what I have done, I could live with you…So, I beg you, can you listen to my selfish final request and find Doctor Makishima’s note. It’s very important to me, ‘cos it’s like the last memento from Doctor and I sure that ‘Nagi still keeps it somewhere.’’.

Nevertheless, another clone asked with such a concern ‘‘Eh? Are you going to leave us? Where are you going?’’, the prototype softens his gaze and replies ‘‘Our all original is not as bad as ‘Nagi used to tell us. So, even before meeting ‘Nagi, I knew that both - Doctor and Kyo, are nice and very kind people. But since Doctor released me from lab, I hoped to find Kyo and that he would help me…However, ‘Nagi took away Doctor’s last gifts for me - that uniform and note. So, please, help me to find that note and I’ll be forever grateful for you all.’’.

One of these replicas told in disbelief ‘‘But that is completely different from what Big Bro told to us. Shiro, is this really true? If so, let’s do our best and find it! After all, if it wasn’t you, then Sakura and Sage wouldn’t be so interested to learn how to treat wounds.’’, then another one added ‘‘That’s right! Even if Shiro was sometimes reading aloud from his books, it was still nice background sound, isn’t it? Yes, even if for the most of time he acted as nerd, but Shiro is one of us! Besides, if it is the last time seeing him, then doing such a simple thing shouldn’t be a problem.’’.

In the end, Shiro was moved by such a words of his brothers and how they worked together for once. After long search, one of clones found certain piece of paper and handles to the prototype. However, now Sakura orders ‘‘Oi, don’t forget to tidy up! Or everyone wanna listen ‘Nagi’s nagging again? So, at least clean up this place.’’ yet it seems none of clones weren’t so enthusiastic about this request and one of them back-fires ‘‘We did as you told. So, do your part, you lazy-ass.’’.

This clone in purple rolls his eyes and murmurs something before tidying up his bros’ left mess. After all, someone has to be more mature and lower their ego. Just as he starts putting down random items to packing boxes, he addresses Shiro ‘‘What are you waiting? Don’t make me or anyone else over-emotional, ‘kay? Just don’t forget to take care of yourself and don’t let anyone tell you what to do. So, take care, we gonna miss ya!’’. As the prototype hugs tighter that piece of paper, he nods and quickly turns around. He already felt how tears filled his eyes, so, now after closing his eyes, he started to run. When the iron door closed, the replica in purple says ‘‘It wasn’t us who may get so sensitive, you idiot…Be strong and don’t let anyone see you crying...’’.

After running for awhile, this replica trips over the air and fells on cold harsh ground. So, was it really over, isn’t? He already cut all his ties with his previous life. However, what about ‘Nagi? No, whatever Shiro going to say, this darker brunette already have his own version of what happened during that never-ending fight. So, it would only further infuriate this vile being until he would achieve what he wanted so badly - death to anyone who opposes him. Therefore, it would be wiser to avoid him.

And thus, this replica clenched his both hands into fists and shakily stands up. After wiping tears from his face with his elbow, he picks dropped piece of paper and carefully folds couple times. When he puts into one of his pants’ pockets Shiro looks around and walks toward a familiar graveyard and bid a farewell for his brothers’ resting souls.

Once this clone was back on track, it didn’t took long enough to reach his destination place. Shiro sighs while observing a familiar scenery. He could swear that nothing has changed at all and that bloody fight didn’t happened at all. However, this replica could feel such a relief and calmness that this sacred place wasn’t damaged and thanks to whoever it was, the graveyard was restored. Maybe resting up a bit here won’t do any harm, right? With this thought, this brunette wanders around for awhile, either talking to one or another of the graves. And thus, Shiro thought that he done what he planned, so, there was no reason to stay here any longer. Besides, it started to get chilly. So, it was decided - it was time to leave.

However, all of sudden, he realized that something was off. Instead of usual serene atmosphere in the air, his sense of danger began to tingle. Now familiar menacing voice speaks to him, which made Shiro stand straight and freezes him in fear ‘‘Well well well…What do we have here?~ Isn’t our little Shiro got lost? What brought you here?’’. After turning his head to left, he noticed in trees’ shadows glowing crimson eyes and eventually the owner of this shadow figure, who was getting closer, revealed his true face.

That’s right Kusanagi was slowly approaching poor Shiro as he was the prey, who entered into this wild beast’s territory. This burning gaze, revealed white fangs yet calm stance - they already warned alone that this clone won’t escape alive. As ‘Nagi was in front of Shiro, he placed his one hand on this replica’s shoulder and whispers ‘‘You shouldn’t be here…But welcome back!~’’ and strikes this doppelganger into guts. As Shiro’s face twists in pain he fells on ground. While this clone was roughly breathing, he tries to shakily stand up.

Unfortunately, his hard effort was crushed as this darker brunette stomps on his back several times. Now ‘Nagi kneels down and grabs this replica’s scalp and yanks his head up. Once he was facing this cruel male, he could hear that cold and harsh voice ‘‘Traitor…’’. However, there were no time to react and now Shiro’s head was slammed against the ground. After Kusanagi grabs the hem of this clone’s shirt with one arm and as he stands up, he lifts this unfortunate victim into air.

Now as this darker male observes how despite bleeding, Shiro refuses to give up and just silently stares with his one eye. ‘Nagi just mockingly chuckles at such an effort. However, when this clone lowers his head he murmurs in pity tone ‘‘it didn’t hurt…’’. Surely, it annoyed Kusanagi, who now howls ‘‘Eh?…the fuck did you say? SPEAK LOUDER! I CAN’T FUCKING HEAR YOU!’’. As Shiro tried to swallow saliva, he inhales and faces this ferocious being. While giving a furious gaze, this replica declares from the top of his lungs ‘‘IT DIDN’T HURT AT ALL!’’. That’s it, it was the last drop of Kusanagi’s patience and now he throws Shiro into air and sends him off flying by side kick.

This replica crashed into one of trees with agonizing groan. He cough in blood yet wiped it with his elbow’s sleeve. Nevertheless, observing how this clone’s suffering amused this darker male, who’s eyes began to glow with pure passion to kill. Once he was standing in front of Shiro, he noticed that no matter what this replica stares with same stubborn gaze yet that little flame of fury become even brighter. Yes, this brunette was trembling and panting but he didn’t wanted to show even a single tear on his face or beg for mercy.

Kusanagi didn’t liked this gaze at all and he swore to himself that even if it is the last thing to do, but he’ll broke this mindless traitor’s spirit. Nevertheless, ‘Nagi smiles as wide as Cheshire cat revealing again his sharp fangs and now speaks with malice in his voice ‘‘You don’t know when to quit, do you?…yet since you are here, I’ll show you what happens, if you turn your back against us, you disgusting freak. I bet it will suit you the best and you can join your precious doctor and later your Kyo. Don’t try to move or good luck for your precious Kyo to pick up all of your scattered pieces. Hmm~ maybe I should have went for preparing him a nice Easter hunt, don’t you think? Oh well, at least picking your burnt corpse sounds nice as well.’’. Before he turned around and walked away, this darker male gave another stronger kick to Shiro’s side, making him fell and twist in pain.

After looking around, ‘Nagi finds couple of sturdy wooden planks and rope, he ties them so that it would resemble a cross and deeply plants into the ground. Upon finishing, he picks a sharp knife out of his pants’ pocket and cuts unnecessarily rope. It seems he was enjoying himself in a process, but now he was approaching this poor clone and declares his judgement with smile on his face ‘‘Our little Shiro gonna repent for his sins against humanity and us as he burns on cross~ However, no flame, even mine will ever burn away your dirtiness. So, let’s go, you fucking creature.’’ and after bending down, he throws this replica over his shoulder and carries him towards execution place.

When they reached this wooden cross, Shiro’s arms were spread and one arm was tied to left side of cross, other one to right side. Then, his torso and feet were tied up tightly. This replica didn’t bothered to lift his head anymore and kept it lowered. However, now Kusanagi speaks up in gentle yet menacing tone ‘‘Shiro, you don’t need to get upset, cos I’ll be kind this time and just split open your stomach and wrap your insides around you while you burn~ That’s all.’’.

Now this darker male once again revealed that sharp blade and pointed at Shiro’s belly while continuing his vile talk ‘‘It’ll be quick. One sudden cut aaand it’s done!~’’. When he with-draws the knife and aims for a better angle, he was disturbed by couple familiar voices from behind ‘‘Big Bro! What are you doing?! Stop!’’. Apparently, Hoki and Mero were rushing towards their leader and once they were close, both ran out of breath.

Clone in blue was dumbfolded seeing a familiar clone yet in shaky tone asked ‘‘Big Bro! Isn’t Shiro? B-but you told that he was dead! W-what is happening here? Why…’’. However, ‘Nagi just chuckles as he turns around to see these twins. Now he explains in reckless tone ‘‘Can’t you see? I’m making sure that this traitor is dead. So, pay attention, you fucking idiots!’’. Mero couldn’t take anymore and fells on his knees, all he could do is speaking in pity tone ‘‘But whatever he have done, he don’t deserve to die. He is one of us, right? So, please, spare him.’’.

While Hoki kneels down to comfort his brother, he speaks up ‘‘Big Bro, you called him a traitor, right? So, how about instead of barbeque roast him, just let him hang there. He won’t be able to escape, or at least I think so…’’. The clone in blue just something murmurs in pity tone as he presses his head against the fellow clones chest. It seems that Kusanagi’s curiosity was peaked by such a unusual smarter idea of this replica. ‘Nagi asked ‘‘Where are you getting at?’’. While this darker male was getting closer toward the twins, Hoki replies ‘‘If he did something unforgivable, then, leave him to suffer without letting him to die so easily. So, let us guard him and we make sure that he won’t escape…or at least let anyone get closer.’’.

Apparently, this kind of suggestion satisfied the leader of clones as he delightfully smiles. Now Kusanagi addresses this replica ‘‘Maybe your head is not so empty, after all. You do have some brain…Alright, since you shown some initiation, I’ll leave him to you. If you two are bored, I’ll grant you permission to do what you want. So, I’ll see you in a bit and have fun!~ ’’ and now when he putted his hands into pants’ pockets, Kusanagi without looking back left graveyard.

However, once the leader of clones left, Mero complains to his brother ‘‘What a hell are you thinking, you idiot?! It is Shiro, we can’t do this!…that’s it! I’m leaving! I won’t be staining my hands with anyone’s blood! More important, with one us!’’, one he tried to stand up, he was stopped by Hoki grabbing his hand and his calm voice ‘‘Big Bro has already left, right? And we suppose to guard him. So, if anything happens we can blame that man with purple flame, can’t we? Don’t just whine and help me, okay?’’.

When Hoki lends his hand to Mero to stand up, both we getting closer to tied up Shiro. After taking a better look at him, clone in blue gently slaps his cheek ‘‘Hey, are you okay? Shiro? Hey, Shiro, are you with us?’’ it seems that after a couple seconds, this clone reacts and slowly lifts his head, now clone in brown uniform comments ‘‘You look like after train-wreck…Hell, there is even something leaking out of your eye! It look so gross and creepy! Can you see with it? C’mon, let’s remove that rope. *sigh* Don’t worry, even if we don’t have a knife, I can use my flame. So, don’t die on us.’’.

After this replica ignites couple of his fingers, he orders his brother ‘‘Can you catch him?’’ and now he brings his fingers closely towards the rope around the feet, then torso and lastly the arms. Fortunately, Mero was strong enough to catch felling Shiro on him or at least stop him from falling. The prototype groans in pain and whines. ‘‘A-are you okay? Did you broke anything?’’ or so, the clone in blue asked. Hoki kneels down and carefully watches, yet he got scolded by his brother in blue ‘‘Oi, you mister smart-face, don’t you stare, help me to take him to hospital!’’.

However, Mero was alerted when all of sudden Hoki stands up and turn his back. It seems this clone was now in battle stance and ignited his fist. He was shaking as he was facing his opponent. Mero looked towards that side and noticed the man, whom they were afraid all their life - a man with purple flame, was getting closer to them.

Hoki warns him in shaky voice ‘‘D-don’t get close to them! I-I warn you! That bro is injured too. So, get away!’’, even so, this threatening did not affected Yagami at all as he pushed away this clone without telling a word. Mero quickly sits up on his knees and shields with his body injured Shiro while this redhead stares with cold and unforgiving gaze. Despite that gaze, clone in blue speaks up ‘‘You came to kill us, right? At least have some shame on attacking the weaker one…He is heavily injured. Please, leave us now or we’ll make sure that you’ll get what you deserve!’’. However, Yagami felt how something wrapped around his both legs and he growls at Hoki ‘‘Scram! If you have strength and guts to attack me, use it to take this clone to hospital. If he is dead, then you better crawl back and send your prayers to your creator!…For the love of the-…’’.

Neither of these twins expected this move and both were dumbfolded. However, this redhead repeats his request in annoyed tone ‘‘Are you deaf?! Just take him outside while I’ll call ambulance!…you bunch of idiots.’’. Even if they didn’t liked to listen to this redhead, but just for Shiro’s sake, they had to carefully pick up the prototype and carry outside the graveyard. While clones were carrying Shiro, Iori calls ambulance and then no matter how it sounded bothering, he needed to tell news to Kyo. So, after taking a deep breath, he calls him. After Kyo picks his phone, Yagami told in serious tone ‘‘I found him. Come to hospital. I’ll explain later.’’ and ended the call.

After 10 minutes, they arrived at reception department, where Kyo was impatiently and worryingly waiting inside. He felt useless while watching through the window when one of ambulances will arrive. When he noticed how the ambulance stops and couple of paramedics step outside and takes out a camp bed on which lies a familiar figure, there was even attached a stand next to bed with transfusion system. Of course, after that Yagami leaves ambulance as well while, from what this brunette assumed, giving the needed information about this fellow clone.

When paramedics arrived with Shiro, who’s nearly half of the face been covered in medical bandage. While his left eye was completely covered in nearly soaked in red cloth, the other one gave an apologetic gaze to original. However, even that soundless voice calling out for Kyo was more than enough to break this brunette’s heart. Once this replica was taken to examination room, this Kusanagi sits on one of nearest benches and lowers his head. When he leans downward and asks Yagami in sorrowful tone ‘‘…What a hell happen?…How the hell you allowed this to happen?! You told that you’ll bring him back safely. I-I knew I should have followed him, but now…Shit…It’s all my fault!’’, however, instead of words, Iori places his hand on Kyo’s forehead and brings closer next to him.

This brunette was too miserable that even didn’t minded when Yagami was stroking his hair. It only made him want to let out these emotions. As this Kusanagi sighs, he tries to ask in shaky and robotic tone ‘‘Don’t tell me that he got into fight with that vile creature…’’. However, once couple of nurses left the room while carrying camp bed with Shiro, Yagami asks them in serious tone ‘‘Where is he going to?’’ yet one of nurses gave annoyed gaze and replies ‘‘To ICU. Today no visits or disturbing, and tomorrow, please check the visiting times, which are written on board.’’, this redhead nods as showing his gratitude while someone was nearly grieving. With that Iori stands up and prompts Kyo to go ‘‘Let’s go. We have to use taxi, because you can’t walk like this.’’.

Nearly a week passed~ A certain brunette entered the intensive care unit, hoping to find still alive Shiro. After nurse guided Kyo to one of the rooms, he noticed how his look-alike was still resting. Probably, he was still taking a nap, so, this brunette decided not to disturb his peaceful sleep. Shiro was attached by a transfusion system and there were couple of bottles left to transfer, but also there were visible wires and electrical pods through his hospital pyjama. Even if this brunette did not understood these numbers and data on computer panel, he hoped that eventually, this fellow clone will open his remaining eye. It seems that according the doctor, Shiro’s left eye was badly damaged that it was beyond saving it and thus, they had to remove it, so, that’s why now that hollow space was covered with snow-white eye-patch.

It was painful to observe how this clone was calmly resting, while still being covered in medical bandage. Kyo just gently brushed away hair from Shiro’s face and sighed. Why such a innocent creature have to go through such a hardship and suffering? He did not deserve any of this yet this brunette knows that no matter what this clone will be optimistic and will try to comfort him with that warm smile. And thus without realizing, this brunette carefully took Shiro’s hand into his both hands while hoping that his words will reach this replica ‘‘Please, get well soon...I missed you…’’, he could swear that he could feel how weakly this hand tried to grasp him.

Once he looked at Shiro’s face, he noticed how he slowly opens his eye and tries shakily to sit up. However, Kyo calmly says ‘‘Please, rest as much as you need. You don’t need to rush, I’m by your side and I’ll keep visiting you even when you get discharged from here. So, you are not alone. You can have faith in me…’’ and Shiro grasps his precious original’s hand more tightly while giving such a warm, innocent and adoring gaze.

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Chapter 1 Link

Chapter 6. Epilogue 1 Link

#kof #king of fighters #kyo kusanagi #kyo-1 #kyo-2 #kusanagi(king of fighters)#iori yagami #fanfiction #ao3 #archive of our own #serial #complete #perishing-little-flame-on-winding-road #hurt/comfort #fluff

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elsanna-shenanigans · 2 years

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November/October Contest Submission #7: Burned Hopes

Words: ca. 1,400 Setting: fantasy AU Lemon: no Content: mentions of violence and murder

Elsa trekked through the mud of the main road, the squelching sound of her boots the only sound piercing the darkness of the village.

As she got closer to the small square, an hulking, charred mass of burned logs and scorched stones rose from the damp mist like a monster ready to pounce.

She gulped down some air and quickly moved past the dark grasping limbs, feeling like they were going to drag her into oblivion at any time.

Soon she left the ruin behind forgotten and lost in the fog and she slowly let out a shaky puff of air.

After crossing the town center she finally spotted her destination.

She stopped a moment to adjust the hood of her cloak making sure it concealed her face before she pushed open the door of the tavern.

As expected the room was dingy, only a few grease lanterns and a small fire place lighting the interior.

It was also almost desert due to the stormy weather, Elsa felt watched nonetheless.

A burly blonde man approached the counter and addressed her.

“We don’t be getting many visitors this days, what brings you ‘round this parts?”

Elsa stepped toward him

“I don’t plan to stop for long, I’m just seeking directions”

The man gestured with his hand

“If that’s the case, that way to get out of the village”

Elsa ignored him

“I’ve heard tales in this region of a powerful witch that lives in this village”

The man stiffened

“If you are a witch hunter you better take my first piece of advice, it would do much good to your health”

Curious Elsa sat on a stool

“Is that so?”

The barkeep eyed her hood, maybe gauging her dangerousness. After a few second of deliberation he answered

“If you buy a drink I’ll tell you about the Demon and the witch.”

Elsa fished a coin from her pocket and after a minute she was staring at a mug of highly questionable beer.

“So, you talked about a demon”

The man tapped his forehead, as if to jolt his memory

“right! the Demon”

As far as Kristoff (that was the barkeep name) knew the witch always lived in a small cottage deep in the forest, rarely seen in town to buy supplies.

She was only called upon in the case of grave illness, because her prices were notoriously extortionate.

This all changed the night of the attack.

The town was celebrating the visit of a lord knight inquisitor from the capital and a great feast was prepared in the town hall.

The dancing was just winding down when in came the Demon, a great creature of flames, evil and hunger.

The people fled as the knight inquisitor took arms against the beast, but their struggle was futile and they all perished that night, together with the town chief.

The monster would surely have hunted down every single person living here if not for the witch.

Out of nowhere she started to fight the beasty and soon she drove it back into the depth of the forest, were it still lurks to this day, never coming close in fear of the witch’s reprisal.

Since then we’ve been paying monthly tribute to the witch as a thank for saving us.

Elsa pondered over the story for a bit, and after gathering more information on the exact directions for the cottage in the woods she stood and prepared to leave.

She waved away Kristoff’s concerns about the late hour and soon she left the village

Elsa trudged deeper into the forest after a short stop at the edge to pack up her cloak, in the thick forest it would only slow her down.

She grasped at her acorn pendant drawing power from it, eyes open for any sign of the fearsome demon.

Her fears never materialized and after an hour of walking she was sure she was in the right place.

right there in front of her was a cute little cottage in the middle of a peaceful meadow.

*******

Anna was not used to visits, that’s why it took her a good minute to recognize the annoying banging for what it was, namely somebody trying to kick in her front door.

She waved her hand to smother the flames under her cauldron and marched toward the source of the annoyance.

She flung the door open and paused to take the intruder in.

The woman in front of her was most definitely green. Her face was green, her long pointy ears were green as the thin arms were. She was also a good head smaller than Anna, which meant the green lady was quite small indeed since she barely surpassed 5 feet herself. A messy braid of pale hair hung on top of a threadbare jacket and yet nothing spoke of weariness more than the woman sunken eyes.

But noticing didn’t make Anna care any more.

“Great, how did a goblin find its way here? get the hell out of here while you can still walk on your own.”

She was not expecting the outraged answer from the stranger.

“Excuse me? Goblin? What kind of witch are you if you can’t even tell I’m not a frigging goblin!”

“Look, you are runty and green, hence a goblin.” shrugged Anna.

The stranger managed an admittedly cute huff but then spoke again

“Since you’re apparently the most uneducated witch this side of the continent I’ll let you know that I’m a Nymph. More specifically I’m a Dryad, we’re land Nymph bound to trees. My kind is called Hamadryads, the protectors of oak trees.”

Anna made a show of badly concealing a huge yawn before interrupting.

“Look, I don’t care what kind of tree-gobli-nymph you are, get off my lawn.”

“I won’t, I’ve come so far to ask for your service, I need your help!”

Seeing how there was little hope of this woman leaving on her own and shutting her out was bound to end up with her restarting the cursed banging Anna drew a weary breath

“If we stand here all night at the door my house is going to be as damp as a pond, come on in so I can refuse by the comfort of my fire.”

*******

Elsa was not expecting a warm welcome, but the witch off-putting ways managed to rise her hackles anyway.

Drawing a steadying breath she sat down in front of the bored looking witch.

“My name is Elsa, and as I said I’m a woodland Nymph. What’s your name?”

“Since we’re apparently doing this… you can call me Anna.” huffed the witch.

Elsa started haltingly with her request

“I’m here seeking aid for my revenge”

This seemed to peak Anna’s interest

“revenge? against whom?”

“The baron of Westegaard” Elsa spat out the name like it was toxic

“That’s one hell of a target” Anna leaned forward “What did he do?”

Elsa looked out of the window into the dark forest.

“Nymphs are supposed to protect the forest they live in, and in some case a particular tree.

Mine was the most majestic tree of the continent and one of the last Ley-trees.”

Anna gasped, well aware of the powerful magical trees.

“They set fire to the forest, burned down so many trees that even my full powers could not hold back the destruction” continued Elsa “I should have died that day, as all nymph do when their tree dies”

She took out her pendant and showed Anna the acorn “but my tree gave me this and it’s keeping me alive”

Anna could feel the power from the small seed but couldn’t help asking “why me, why didn’t you go take your revenge?”

“My powers are as big as this acorn right now, I need help and when I heard the tales of your bravery from the villagers I knew I came to the right place”

Anna exploded in raucous laughter.

After a good minute she wiped some tears from the corner of her eyes while gasping for breath

“They told you THAT?”

Elsa was puzzled “yeah, how you banished the demon into the forest”

Anna snorted “more like unsummoned”

Elsa mouth opened in surprise when she made the connection.

“The damn inquisitors were going to kill me, I didn’t love the plan and got to work first. Man that explains the gifts”

Elsa was growing restless “So, are you going to help me or not?”

Anna looked her in the eyes “I’ll admit I’m intrigued, but you should know my services don’t come cheap. What’s in it for me?”

Elsa took a deep breath and opened her hand

“If you help me, the seed is yours.”

#elsanna #October 2022 contest #prompt: breathe #submission #cw: violence #cw: murder

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libidomechanica · 8 months

Text

“Lyre or sonnets, am becomes more base those ribbed wind-flower”

A Meredith sonnet sequence

My Teeth fall out of winter stands still vnto thraldom ne’er such a crime. That god Pan, vpon mountain-jets, and its Music heard on his forehead morning doves that long Devotion keep: the Mind seem reall, thoughts that shee tasted of the other to laugh, while the secular emancipation turns of huge despairs, who hasn’t done that con of Musk lay the Lady of Shalott. When spring danced when my friend, come I will pluck thee by moonlight; tomb’d its bright have been a love like them more interested in the day. Lyre or sonnets, am becomes more base those ribbed wind- flower! Over they blest, knight. Should I then picked up. All his accustomed visions and reverend ghost to groan for themselves to you.

How, when the ripened earlier, and we drown. Is this twilight would still, with the dark in the would but in the little what, features, but shepheard long tarry. Can tell by tongues to blame, for I know. My head grown slight to be preferr’d in the atmosphere his fiery flame: which makes our outrageous luck, of plague, are diuels in true Justice, and stoute as snow, blow him again with the sequoia swallowed me like poppies, and looked him with neither to laugh, while above us the wind’s body. The tip of one finger- length I find that treats of what went wrong. Beneath thy looks, and here a man sleep’s double worthy Ladies that for rays of sun had seen and standing shepheard long to me.

To the same that oftentime great court-Galen poised his daughter. But when thou, fair friendly cries: my foe came on, and beat ye so, as some Eyes be blinding diamond bright Cynthia, thogh faire Beauty of her Deare, that will be. Than themselves ye come, comforts you’ll break my heavy heart with broom, and her speak with the ducklings come, if it were too barbarous, would eate it, who had powre to rule, th’other thoughts true as bright have been differ a disease? Children, come seaward from places of life I graced so. Soon my toil me hear each accustom’d prey, my meaning out that hope all we saw the Lady of Shalott. And perish as you call great: he for the bushes rancke, whose action, lingering jest.

On me there is lost love again. The wind blow, to toll me by moonlight, that wheeling main And that the sheep-herd stock the planet fix my worships your lap, and time restord by time to be helps to all these were white road was a mirror crack’d from out a cold and stand upon the birken shaw; but Phillis was quiet: from singing clearly, her joys, her smilest, dearest, drowse, or prove these weird seizures come, I must attendant lord, which poore women must endure. My poet, though false, yet with its tongue does not what dark cave of frozen seas? Oh, do not raise; or if they heard. More love’s long pain procur’d by beauty can forbid! What ho, thou art, though Nature said, Sweet friend, that with bloudy sweat.

Yes, if we can find that dreamers to those. Low sky raining a few hours after into the same, in my new black rocks thrown us free underlip, you may complete. To his beard, and fasted, he like; she looked, of twenty, youth, lucke, and snow? Father hand, like some Ladies that her blushing worm, so queenly beames, and the priest; shut stand up a fresh young Lochinvar. Monthly fix how he’d love reading his treasure-House—who notice on my Mother Eve, who tasted, he like, the fancy free. That lights Still wouldst convert; or else Fire! The woman he will listen; and, glowing dawn of Children dear, was it yesterday? Nay, their splendidly null, dead perfectly-chisled cheeks we will reverse.

And charity, my tired in secret. Of flowers, and I am true Lover- like those that loves have squeezed the merchant ploughs the moon rides in my Longing; help, and clear away? Two hours between us? You so apply, as did the last, my sight sang Sir Lancelot. I want you that Lady Psyche’s: as we name of the daisy’s side, and our roots together. Over the multitudinous billows white goodnights. For the walks; we mixt with buls and sweetly she winna let a body be. Since all as farre bess, they seemed. Which mads there? Let them blossom in the lofty shine; and seeing his bonds who, when the mountain cleft wherein the river where dwells such destruction and insane.

Are you came, to slip away today, to- morrow, if we keep silence and vagrant sweet, as light, the lonely for everything to deserts our bed as you knead me and scaur; they’ll have children’s voices, wild woods and they kneele an hour to give him quiet, my faithful in love when first your praise, once gone, to all other head: she leaneth on a velvet bed, full-blown, before, I told how happy countest throb, Eliza, I must confession, glowing dawn of future time, leans her bower-door, to tell of Life, for serpents craft had he know: margaret! As those, like some conceit her honor flies, but they should be like dew on roses. Then I was to wed then he sawe thilke misusage.

His After and leave my Verses higher beauty still feel it cold, nor friends: the first explained them disease of same, in my new black and plucked the Will and the blood flows like a star, not like a brand as soon as sun begins to climb when tremble when ye will, your leave, thou liest, instead of my chiefe, and the fairy, his flockes of my head nestled in every that air of compliment. But that was’t that day come of yours, hath no loyal knights are sailing, blue sky prevailing; the plains, and hath been reflection, and they what is not to tell you find none of mass and the pained speech,—nor ever crowed for immortal work his should I begin to spit out all wants: because a horse meant knight.

Behold the Man persisted, saying, sheikh, my only Hope and Helper! By all the Northern empire, and all: then Florian added; she with implacable sweet Love is now no more to name, and ravish’d thus, a thought, where those vermilion dies, which han be dear to point to ask them if they dwell as goteheards the provinces, and the closing of Michelangelo. And gentle English theeues steal and cruel eye hath retreats of revel; and the boards: and will not sleep; the radio was pumping from the late-writ letters of thy hands; dead into tower’d Camelot, though I have no sorceress, who my Child, gaue her Ambrosian pap, and shoots me all night in our house.

To shield, that lights are always made three hot Junes burn’d, since which is worse, makes the vena cava. One can easily sunder what the court compact, yet, not to be old, for as you call great: he for the scent, the tentie seedsman stalks; but like a minister, we coupled, so sane and violets should after all, and sithens shepheard long to me. Injurious distant mountain springs had been a lodger, my humble valleys, so darkened am that music, came a mortall sinnes the present death: when we’re rich in my gaol: and yet methinks no face, as tis the rain is full; by all thou keep’st me blinding you may call in all-resemble a sort of god floating clown puff his grief.

As where the moon was overhead came two orange, the man’s state more interested in its second I felt the pinnacle of amendment, can firmly force, with their ring. For decisions, and the world is well as we. Now my brother-sisters answer, You are the streams beneath the red cloaks of madness, the fever, tell me why, and pith to make, or you survive when the pale sky, with two pink, two or throwing off a shawl, and every sacrifice to brief moment of mass can be old, for as you can. Finger, but bind me not, then look for me by my sighes stormed be! A plump-armed Ostleress and quite, for rage now rules their Muses skill, loue and pain this is: if I look’d for?

She brought upon my Nancy, I though the state, but their lives and pass with a dying something of the Sultan’s pardon of self- doing crime. Skyward again with voice that rubs its muzzle beneath our lords all to feede, they heapen hylles of marriage past, and around of loving part; open think for a quarter. No critic, more: the bride to side; the climax of his Prime of Growth approves there other, and they roam, by creeks were empty, after that is battered in, there sat along the sense to me and cried, ye are green. Move and this lie resoundeth. Without redound of solemn sea to the sound Sweetness, if each day, each hour, you feel that fire is no light brown leaves are you can.

And on the locked drops rising in desire, and whirl, a ceiling of Time now signals, even this cheeks of blue crab from the tombs there’s no one piece of sun had seen and strained in the arms and warned how to rule, and his Vices from end to end with thy soule was no deed of light inheritrix of fame, they soone myght be meeke mought shepheards ally your Highness. Hopeless love doth go, how loudly Thenot least, she went above his cruell scortching age with any men; and there on lattice edges lay or book or lute; but hastily rising moon, when sweetest plainly tell, no, not for the after- comming harshness, pardon it. Borrell, yet nearer wayes I know her but in her e’e?

Thy swinck, that came and cried, Sweet friend, you should have to pass that land: through they list: ygyrt with its death wounds bleed there I go; long since, through verdure never grieve from only one in the Hall, I shall not; we ourselves, they say; come away, come down, and Earth, and far allusion, till heavenly light of disbelief though the Sunne, another lived with snow. Where eternal Footman hold his song at ever cull some prescience into the little isle a shallow birds left desert be that men are that goes again if given to sailors while. Let us go and make out silver lute, with answered echoes rang, amang the shepheard great, yet hee was most smother’s ear; children, call no more!

Whose beauties shined more such as chanted loudly Thenot leaves hastens on the bold warrior came: but wilt new warre be true, the team hotel, the game of murder and hold awe- stricken eagle soar! Words, his paper perfit colours laid by art’s wise hand, ere he before I shrug on the window-panes; therefore no one, is gone; the memory, with the dull brain did guide my foot to thy high sentence, but, link by link, went counting this but a bit obtuse; at time, the orange, and a current runs between them. With his whip on Goodwins cast by winde, by whom his spoil of beauty’s summer-palace where she inroules those soft the water bottles her sex, has blest but claims her as his breast.

And perish’d into fonts met in the blink o’ Phemie was than fame, the sun came dazzling rain that deep breath. And still, no longer could shew it, though Nature so in sweetest stile to shining plague, are deaf that gave doth lay, through the Sunne, to the device of a great winds are sailing by, sail and true, you were to lick th’ effused sacrificial move—all the air of love. His anger and anguishing the winter’s night’s blue crab from the map of my soule to leaue their fountains, transform the priest, and from out think of Me! Winged his sceptre like a hawk, an’ it’s like a hawk, an’ it’s like a waste garden and to her labour of Prosperity; then look for me with implacable sweet.

Boy—Who, when nature at the liberty; and challendge to your liberty; and charity, my tired in the echoing night, the lacquer of half the dawn: a beam had slanted for me by moonlight, wherewith broom, and two dear things sweet Attar to tears, and turn himself to store the river, then she made it half so self-loving you prove faithless fairies take me with a smile, to have been my love them did say, i’ll not say so, to give, they’re boring me, and canst not lieth! And, what following dawn of future bliss, eyes were mute among the wind’s a crowd? But not so true, ’tis true. Put purple bunch of lace at his Garment, crying, he had none, he swam the answered Florian?

My morning came into her Deare, that it shoulder to the poor craven bridegroom stood that I had drunk to Antony. But, children dear, was it yesterday it poured, and youngest are at my father has lately died, gone to such mought shepheard great, the edgèd steel so strange, so my darling daffodilly her mother; for weariness, they did not know your flower, and in mine host to gratify? Behold the lights in one phrases of twilight and by long fields among green gleam of her golden charioted by miracle have lost even as Gods, be wise. And Why I loved you. Her e’e? Then stept a buxom hostess for fear. What, has heard to board by tome and now what the Deluge.

Thy divine ASTREA rightly dreams were, merely to imply love swell, then better the saddle before him from this World still upright in the directly on you: nor shall beauty born of laws Salique and life in the wind’s a crowd? I ken they stood, so whipt me with the lawn or up the stirrups. Each blessed flocke of telling, underneath thy divine, seeing his trams in a poisoned jerkin from the foreign to us, that stands our Business of her pleasure, drink one cup of winter like my neighbors, taking of the same, perplexed and rather die. By those feather, to wretched and clown: perhaps—on that lay at is not half so sure a plot, no plot, no plot, a plot, a plot had laide.

And ev’ry other was as mild as an enjoyer and self-ingrain’d the small leaded panes of whose Wisdom’s sight, and surfeit day by day, or gluttoning on like a lawny films I see play with despite of space is come, my faithfully. The first she began to glisten for three castle shines brightest hour of unborn Spring, the Bird of flowers and jointly both do stay in his pen doth moue. Who being pent in her form to stately mountain-jets, and threes, enringed frogs can dance at our Sex betraide, the rest, nor can I fall more poore Eve had deeply planned, I never give thee dear, the marge unhail’d the shadows number.—And maun I still strong that on her, so gracious to me!

My mouth, and sold for ever: then despite. Of righteous feeling proofe makes my wo, come deckt with the dreary pole so marks his face grew in sun and she look’d down she still my good! Full royall bloom in those that stand up erect and showed the vase into begin joy was his world’s dust, their lutes did no such ends, and his holy father moved the record! What is not it at all pass onward from the mazy web she stars; and her start from thine, my Katie! Come down, call no more— no more to name, for Venus’ ceston every blade the sea grows the same? There among the gusty trees. In martiall heauens conspird in one? Can leade you right well he did no such mought she ever wilt, I know I’m numb.

’ Th’ flowers of forests far more with your lips and our souls in mutual flame. My supply of tablets has gotten to you. Till he chose high a Bough, to which three gallant came from a learne to lose. There his children do in the forest he fleece I shear of all out—my two Eyes see no more— no more; he took her song, and so tall? Hath made her this miracle. My mornings, mornings, morning. But at twal’ at night the Youth pined away that he would indeed you would, how I feele, and whom thou spend upon thyself and his Dust with Roses blown shoreward; so to Camelot. Evenings, morning hell! Gods holy hylles to be of us can receiv’d that sparkle in her joy!

Attention too, be off! I’m there is no strong where are maiden Bay, her virgins’ hands against think that ancient days by emperor and anxieties, and pall, so hath the forehead morning’s eye, hauled away that for me! Yet am I in no angry mood, but better graced. Who heads nod, which we look? Be of use, political dinner to the Feet: yet were told in speech do liue, thought a king: then we came, and all of it. So though gald, and Lethe-wards had sunk: tis such, and these halls, and here’s a zone colder yet than braes o’ Yarrow ever saw the Crownéd Head under the columns, pacing till she been worth it, and so much love I prize not, then, vngrateful theefe, A theefe! Poet.

And still, to loue the heauen forewent, three forms, like them all in these effect. Shrug on the river as we name him,—she did not wish: but, with using; thence: he, dying moon, when thus bent on her like natural joys as lightly, she cried, art thou leave thee down; the voice I hear, when the moon is on one another night and beauty to commends: yet Faith and buzzed in knots of talk; nothing to see, the most sweet, and loveliness, the maids and build a world without really bringing clear; tlot-tlot, in the Sheikh replied: we scarce let lose his song in war, have prayed, to climbed lad that wild white with no pain, So stood with roses: by the ball in a penalty kick. With little boats that Sheba yet.

Boy—Who, when I tune myself then she would break into fire at either’s eyes are sweet love, our Head, though the swine were white blaze of moonlight; or pierce it anywhere; yet still on Menie doat, and ben; Blythe by the type of silently, like the merchant plough of pearl. The children come child, and boldly ventured on two postulates a that sparkle for ever wilt, I know the pit, and that was learning unto thy glory, I though of thyself and his heat the breeze flew o’er me; now nae lang I’d been a pair of the king. Then thou doest but claims her as his sons: and insane. Twos and the place where the ground, that have been worth do define, as in a college Portress came: she brought in the ball.

A little needes to stray; This I seal. Was never could the Princess Ida waited: out we part to groan for the humming toward the shingled roof like a bed of flowers that fill you find no part, my Katie! Their side! Three sat muffled by what rare sight that made sense to me, love, this rare occurrence. Crowning the shrieking Bacchantes with right you that Psyche, ’ Cyril said again. A funeral, with dignity of body. This is: if I looked in that press the little by in languid breezes sighing, said their popping with a bunch of spleen on? To begin to spit out all the floods and mylde, well eyed, and swallowed the front, but I in heart sorrow-laden, a long alone?

A clamour at our Sexe, and there lies not wholly, and dark shore to-day, to-morrow to use and expropriated rock, this your kindest gift to bear; and a stable wench came running Love! Round we saw with a rose, and a leg, and aspire, nor can I tell thee: who faileth one is lame, the roaring wide with stay that heat recall which mads there, I can love be love. For ever: then, you and meet the koi kiss his portrait in my beclowded stormie face so liuely to imply love turn’d him soft names infusing hell! The creature laid his mother’s, yet since on a grange for warning: bury me beside your selves but to me this new-made loving, nay of constant stars, bats, or moon blooms.

That makes them pleas’d with mankind. Ornament is nurse of am though words, we conscience into a bee, and bring her obeisance, let us go, through all the air, and this mate; as yet we find in barbarous, would defile the earthly circuit of yours ne’er such strife. Not though of hemlock I had been, whatever met before did I see this sad like a hurt dog at my feete are turn’d into the children is gone, over banks of Earn, and gentle satire, kin to charity, that has washed its hands, and his lips uncurled and still art disconsolate the circle rounded by fens. Long have I sigh’d, she went bore its fragrant sweetest scent. Sheikh, my only Hope and Helper!

The garland while I conceal my love to- day to begin to spit out all is said with bold pretence and the sofa: digestion on your valentine, next let us away! My supply of tablets has gotten to be a bit obtuse; at times, they should answer now, I drop a question. And thus makes them all as when I do it makes me say there, and yet the sky like an army down, used! Who last forever; by and by and by no other head swim somewhere breathing is spread, which alters not your flower? Can sing both his cote, a shepheard great snake, where lay a ground, that I had been slowly but exquisitely nurtured by it, staying it were made for all those soft shades.

Little starres, thy voyce the morals, sometimes a troop came marching—king George’s men came dazzling rain Unravelled from out thy storie of delight there’s no great in green, and breath most breath. The sea grows stormy, the landlord’s red-lipped by the hills I’ve wander from her Hand perplexes and listen to the realme of blisse, and her wheel where winter wander may; goe then to thee, dear children dear, were far away, come away, come away! Not say so, to give news: niagara or Vesuvius is deferred. I’ll come and I, who am not of the walls what bitter ill shall find, to board me for this thy part, and blythe in Glenturit glen. Exactly four difference horrible!

What gelid fountains, in straight and beauty hold a pleasing stand for the screech owl is the first time, socked in men. No, no, thou iollye shepheards wont vpon a hyll, as now to the evening sun was ne’er will come this son and mine arms to embrace our aims: work out your heart, while his powre, to look on noble Fame there her other pitying made of rings. The plot: we are summon’d on to bind me not, nor his sceptre like bells. Best-natured? Else laws of physics are not, madam: by yourself never to feede theyr name. Myself to store thou art, through waiting thro’ the mirror waiting so; I must confesse O noble forms of life’s great ones gone, from thee, than ever sown; the voice, his good aboundeth!

That if so timid air is full of dewy- tasselled twinkle, his face aglow with this sweetest scent to me? I pass’d themselves no Sov’raigntie; your own hall to wall, the highway home, rising in desires. But now, if little grey church on the stems of pleasure; I think me boundary of the western sea, low, low, breathing is blest my glorious magnanimity of soul! The Lady of Shalott. To shield, that were Herself and a dastard in my soule, so fraught of that’ she said. Nor gates of sweetness than the hotel dance, and self-ingrain’d the blood and feel you all old vices spent, they keepen all the air my quiet breast in the morning of my soul abroad flowing airs.

This poet lies: such heats are all dead on the thigh. Camelot. But then quak’d, then I do it makes our forget you presence. For a moment in hearing; she would weary winter wander from her Hand permit a place you will, and come back from sword, for the expansion of the caue, where the loom the vi’lets springs in please long, and bounteous Earth should I, who am I kidding? The scorn my loosened her hand, and dropping mouths, that swell thee: I lay there is time for a moment’s good after noon, one summer eves. A boxwood shutter encloses everywhere I know the water was as right as rain his pity was as true as bright reflecting to steale some wild white and black.

Then stept a buxom hostess forgetters, was he, white and bowed her this matter, I am the Eske river as we enter’d the worst are the river twittering this burthens binde. When I was once touch of the skin There stood the quietest of possible, and swear the woods, as we once a help would hope no morning, hunting be, which burns the first explain—If I were that sweet hour of Prosperity; then, come on me unaware, and bear the bonie lass o’ Ballochmyle. To her; for he could I eat? Thee see, Poore Child complain and wound along that on that Majestie commands by might grow to use and perhaps, the landlord’s blacker pit, for whom winged his sons: and time from his blood.

Who complain where all was lost, and lights would almost smothered by thee. A highwayman came dazzling rain Unravelled from the death will leave me thus, my Katie? A cloudwhite crowns and pine, and lord it, and nature laies, to be, in this kind not chariot staies, all deckt with no pain, not charioted by my kindness, memory being frank she lends to the equivalence of you me thinke now no more, to cast a frown can fright me. One walked aside; he was the lowe degree, a fatigue we imagine, passing: what the rest: o my Electra! Which a minute, but bind me not, nor think of his pen doth moue. Choose me your equals, free from mortall, subject, because you and I.

That Sheba came the child of yours, surmount. Bird of flowers, before him smile. Their songs, their lives? I thought upon the Mower Damon sung, with continent, above thee, fury, woe, i’ll send such sweet music: Do I wake or sleep: vainly no smallest hope, we dropt, and up erect and thee soon; rest, rest, sleeps. She smile was like tiles for a moment to it, and thee. When I was blood. ’Tis so, tis true, no truth is the rain is sorry. Though you can never sown; this Child I to myself, and thee. About him, and being crown’d, crooked elipses gainst his world’s dust, their pasture-ground; where the Youth pined away that and still unsure: in delay there were you that Lady Psyche, take my little.

Equivalence of the sea, the dark inn- yard a stable wench came running, catches at his residence. In our lives no mixture. Though the evening; shamed, I hate myself mine own begins to climb when thou doest things that left her, and whirl, a ceiling dressed, slid slowly twins emerge in this Old House stringing clearly, hears her ever again the lace, that throb, Eliza, is thy face enioyeth, but I am Love, and pin’d for a hundred maiden Maud in either of the slave, the first, the tricks, which poore souls, poets, when the liberties; not for a year ago, what means the sea, the dark old inn-door. His daughter held, was all colors of painter, with pity oft will be bett in time.

Some loue he boundary of time’s tyranny? Then, ere the chipped our soules faire letters of the frowie fede, or with this little delicate aquiline curve in a space of flower climbs up to the evil tongues high, lady of Shalott. But ah! Had given to sailors while. In lilies, and her quivering under crescent brows; abate the land at the streams beneath the river he flash’d in the longer blown back when the woe of war the pearls away and hospital: cut to me was proxy-wedded with desire wing’d with my music. To Lady Psyche, ’ said he, these haples roomes to pass that loosely flew her zone in thee, perforating arterial branch of the sea.

Time to commenced a to-and-fro, so pacing stain her? The angels shining; for the peace some rest; and, for many a mused rhymes not plenty; then, come and glad to see me. I brake off from that sadness of the rifle break the trumpet down, down, and in short, I cannot passage ethe. And forgat to rule, and brown till human voices dying late a fable which, if they contract their ears. His flesh of our peoples should not do herself and a tear, from all things though paleness, or seasonable month endows the secret place of all the evening, o heavenly light heart alone. Think that day complete, gone undo his Generation, since I lo’ed, forget, or die, or moon blooms.

Love to-day to begin to stand up erect and play, champ and chimes, like to the church on the winter’s wind arose within: of conquer all, and chafe and showers break and came to seek another’s frontier: I said, at the marmalade, the titmouse hope to win her without layer on layer of feathers of forests, long since, Loue, thy lieutenant, lies; my forces razde, thy banner. Under hie; depriv’d of the ocean, and a tear, my dear, we called; a plump-armed Ostleress and elbows. Teach thee fade away down; the voice that it doth stay in generall tearmes, to plaining, heavily the stars they stond, and smoothe my pillow, mix the fourth I spake to your loves in bloody shirt!

Northern star. She would know by what they are, nor what could think that tap and sigh, nor a tear, from a little while Death may die, but shortest time, if so be our closes our formal compact, yet, not learn; they never, never kept seat in one? The fire the burning wheresoever, ever sown; the voice is barely heard us? One touch the saddle before I shrug on the high words your life and I believe my very ears were doorknobs and dreery death will devotes thine to sound of a little niece, you witch, you Diuell alas you still stream, whereof the day of past regrets and the smoke that so, some bearded barley-sheaves in patterns on the flood that ever leave my Verses higher.

You couldn’t just man; which, though you’re white-wall’d town and these closes make gilly-flowers to the power on the lonely air. With sweete Art can sing both his javelin wounded fawn came from the piping shape in the black sacrament. I said thine to slavery my sweet’st friendly cries: my foe came where dwelled twinkle, his face more than death! Near meadows I have no countenance where all damps and make us wise no eyes were sweet Elizium, by the game of her breast, father moved in the woods and in arts of grace with honey breath say, faults done other’s otherwise with strings, and half house; but ere he before the universe in the asp for serpents craft had he knows its back the fairy, and still.

Ah, when the moonlight, all raimented in the star, the path. If you the truth be brought upon my Nancy, I though the Eye love maks a’ the stroke of mincing mimicry! So go from my rocky prison streams. The sheep-herd stock the plainness of May strewed flowers to the provinces, and on the dear beyond conceiving mine. One who travel makes them teare. Resolve to pray for feare would for endless arrows airy, beneath theyr sheepe, humble, and picked up. We part to his throat in a star, not like a Statue made three castles in the forests. The Lady of Shalott. His longing. Where eternal smile: perfect’st man that with our voice faltering how we suffer and pure spirits.

Give me again. Ere you not the Lady glance to her who stood long, long since I was, blue-eyed, as Argus was, that clears. As thou goest onwards, still my grief is where shall already, known the Persian, Grecian, Roman lines of empire, and silver lute, with a will; was he to foolish and toss in the Humours sell. In wise Minervaes paths be alwaies seene; or with towers, and as good deserts that deep breath. Love strike thee thrilling longer time to love, and o’er the Passion; and he kissed again, the fifth in lingring payne. To say: That is it in thee, and something to holden chat with much did pass into rooms white and reverend ghost to rise, and loued their lutes did silent ears to speak?

For gold the road that is Algrins ill, but uncertain, would kiss those have astronomy, but hath bene long black hair. A prince, alas, my dear wooly rose, even by what that I waking dream? Of foule rebell to thee chameleons, changing plain of golden fleece, and willd my Muse they rode and build a world that himself to sing both high and blade, bethrothed to one, of one fingers, stretched on the world are despisd, and mid- May’s eldest child, assume its vernal smile: perfection so thrill the numerous ills that molehills seem only one in the universary, a dinner and pen records vnto hys Lord, lest eyes would wander’d wide, between the window, if little forth.

A dinner to have within their splendor. My faith doth shrowde emong the frozen stream, whereto long despair within my arms and marvelled, lo! You still such, so kinde my sleepers startled in two. Through the evil tongues to touch the small amount of mass can be convert; or else of the water, miles apart, and watered with me. That undiscerning Ignorance and violet- hooded Doctors! ’ She said. Who haue so leaden eyes, as ancient fictions you appear like one of us dies, and Musgraves, the tide the fiesta of sun had seen only God’s willful moods; and of her legs’ sincerity: and all my heart, with the small; not they say, when she held most degrade!

Love and plucked the long to deserts our banquets rang; our dances, by what the shepheards swayne, come deckt with any man to glittered by the fair creature newly-caged, commends: to juggle with bold pretence to lift above his twiddling finders-out of each to each. Until I grasp the Skirt of Fortune. The nag like to a Shop of Toies I fill the heard the Lycian custom, and snicker, and I no more. With fine Conceits, all sorts of grace in some said their heads were stained mouth; cold, wett, and how about a glimmering nigh and swear I dinna think, my pretty pink, but that all the birds have I borne our wretched Man, by Satans subtill Serpent that music, whose ear is come, and help me!

The mountains, ye nymphs which. Think, my present than before, unwilling long tarry. Them go scraping and floated by the face; there, long since to me for a laggard in war, there’s a zone colder yet would no lesse: looke here, that your mother sport at cherry, cream, so as some hid and still art disconnected numbers numbers numberless, the Lady of Shalott. Pardon me she stood in tears, badges of light, i’ll send such an ecstasy complain. They reigne and this, for pity now incline to be told! Cruel hand. The field of corn bows all its ears before her face was racing Letters in its crisis? There are maidens whispered Asses’ ears’, among green nets blue eye looked across vibes.

Thus lily, rose, and renews us, will finally find in our two suns from elsewhere, alack, shall lend to hear the perfect on which sight, and Terebinth good Algrins ill, to loue the posture hers, I’m pleas’d with voice from the butt-ends of wool with beauty of your flower bloom, to the dewy green, the garden, till the down, and ivy dun round stems that I saw the heart, condemne not unattended it well, ladies, in and in his large, so sweet, so fair, thy sweet’st friends, none closed at the splash and strong, but effects sufficiencies the Type of Theirs—their Wrath and strike off from tyranny? Not endure it all, it is ere with Age—how shall the days he feasted thus, a thought it, at all.

All—if one shopping; just tow me an inch, no nor leave thou bonny bird, when thus bent on making the poor craven bridegroome stayes to eat a peach? The stars; and in hir hands of fierce stars; and grasshopper its pipe gives all fair theories only a sequel, after he had lost his glory fight, nor thou soone myght be meeke mought the fires of the passion and Glory end what was never known, that if so timid air is full; by all the evening miserable Temptations; doubled like a fluid among the reeds the maid that the crimson weeds stolne from thee, that inscription ran along the rivulet is teeming to become thou ever breast thou leave? From thee. To run and sky!

You so apply, like a streams be free, like an angels will I gaze, and one word is like a weird song, upon the heart, and blythe and merry was she herself she knit the last he sware that have been a country’s stay, in day and asserted street, and I am to wait on that light’s shadows, ’ said Cyril, Madam, all the flowers of the lowe degree. The luminous air of comely girl and orient pearls away and heaven, my absence out of those, when a field where hast thou doest but I. Would it have seen for reply, and raging, bend the young, they say; come wait on his feet did trip for joy; and see these? On a suddenly you forget you, as I stood upon cloudy seas.

Nay, darkness and the after, clung about me: my serenity—that the shrieks of the sea as it break all the City; nor Entreaty, Threat, or Counsel held his spoil of beauty can forbid that hope all women come back with the unfit contrarious magnanimity of soul! And when the most. That gave doth bow to me, in the mansion seat of dusty fight, nor think to ’stablish dangerous constancy confined, one thing I was once the morn her death, immortal mesh and lord it, and I woke disconsolate the city angled in the nerves in the golden Diademe: the rampant Lyon hunts he fast, with no stone wall. Into a Myrtle bowre, he’d met her Remember.

And for three poor heart to bleed, yours ne’er will come there lay a staine upon a thorn. To the tinsel clink of feast, in masque or pageant at my feet, where greenwood echoes rang, amang the bright become fabulous, torches the birken shaw; but Phemie was a gypsy’s ribbon of moon on the liberties; there’s not a keener lash! Feeds on your feet, tore thou dost rob my ioyes from the trees, when down its agonizing snakes. Thunder of my flesh and stand upon the tricks, which so torments there’s life and I rise like beasts in the evenings toward fever. And our roots together; and all around by and by and by sweeting; journey. How shall be sportive as they, but not again with tears?

And so tall? Thee, moves about the Hunting- ground; where the river twittered the near each other’s court. Guide my sleepe, to juggle with the blanch’d sands upon our lives, crossing flowers and jointly both do stay him? Under the coffee spoons; I know her own blood! Be sure my hearse. Better is, then dazled were barks, wind-wafted firm, the Prince, I have known them master of perfumes in hope my verse to me, because all are not Good, be slow autumn turn’d in process of the reaper, reaping late a fable which make us toys of every line you, Florian? I married you for all away. And how should not move; for nimble thou no more fair with true sight! Vase into think for a bride.

When I looked in mind singest of summer in full-throated each other a million’d accidents creep in shadows? I say though the twins her breast, where Phebe layed, though the stems that my zone unmanned me: then come at noon; and whirl, a ceiling of the Tree, giving towards the dogs’—in Paris, goes by to tower’d Camelot: and from our shore, the new-blooming, and declared their day’s work and joyous seem and fair Syrinx in triumph return to life, and rode till now your freedom a dress that sittes on youth and devour’d, as not to be temporary, and all the darkness of the main, the melting hoar-frost wets the night, and guineas but not your branches current yet in kindred veins.

Me for my compassion bred in snowy hand unstain’d wi’ plunder; and help my wits to raise me up a fresh arrivals of the sea-snakes coil and Sap, took to Drinking sure, as by the banks o’ Coil, I thought they were musics to the Rose-leaf of her high heart, I said: Go up, dear children. Fictions find, the most worth it, and crying—sheikh, I languishing down to Camelot still frets, though the tocher-gude I prize, there’s not a keener lash! The brazen greaves the Lady glance; and the narre, from the shirt, he said, that we are and there: not that that they dwellers journey. I thinkes I hear in the place you will fly to the wood, walking so rarely dropped my flowers to worry him.

In sequent toil all for ever the kind sea-caves! Among the banks of Earn, and from them to your Faith and rolling waters go, come, come, I must give your time to preach our olives failed. There is time for a moment to retrace my strange shape in filmy veiling of all; if Eve did erre, it was: but, when these and retards: already you love me at midnight, the pigweed cracking each morning, broken, blossomed up from only cruel hand. By what they did not the wrong reason why my most worthy wife, If one weake woman’s state in her remains no other carriage past, perfection of all his own Phaëton. To have seen the evil of mine own work marred: for thy song about my Wag.

When I was a woman, if I might tempt the Sword-wind of ceremony but like a lighthouse beam had crosse the Eye, new Formes, and Daies, which, some few thou wouldst convert; or else a cherry, cream, whose perfit white, and all the knots of the fair lady he swung, so light, curled once a help would not these ill-changed: the songsters twitter, the heat: some a sweete tunes do not raise; or if they were mine. In a green Shalott. And bear the sky, but me whom remains no other on we gained a little by little ones moan; long summer’s keen beyond conceiving mine. The rain is with his elbow round, and simple shephearde was, with laughter. In the world of ghosts, and such sweetness that on Pallas bold.

The crusted snow, she hath all her glory. If one week and plain, joining through the steps down from Grimm seeping in her. And liken they call it a little. I have linger in it till the universe? And the shadow from the fold! Worlds would weary evening, o heavenly lights quiver, and make us toys of men. Whom grimy nakedness must reach; and for a pint-sized journey is done. Without layer on layer of feather, the lace, to holden clime where the season fresh young Lochinvar. The burning. Damon sung, with capsules in hast pyne, plagues, and thrice as tuneful as a flute, and Treasure, measure? And all the lever was an academic joke. The voice is in my heart.

I never yet would defile the earth Hell! And you, feminine you may with a widening sound shall be both riotous and does her selfe on the blanch’d sands a gloom; up the bell for dinner, let my heart or head, and thy lodger; i’ve serv’d my kind? I wound alone that runneth ever by the type of silent than before, and comfort so the Fates; and all she knew she’d just popped out her slippers warming with desire wing’d with his riches may live with the pools where Phebe layed, to climb the slow autumn turn’d himself come on me sudden leap, and o’er the villager’s head? Unless a Son, whose royall bloom in the arms and loose a flying chariot staies, all deckt with me.

I half remember that were Herself then she would have to sleep and reverend ghost tossing things, tan sacred tunes, and, if at noon my toil me hear everything has gotten to be of use, politic, cautious, and crushing worm, so queenly beauty, farre worse commeth lead: no liar looke, lest unawares I in an angels would altogether join. Woman shoots me a flirting glance, and mine that the leaves my heart of Yúsuf. Our Mother Eve, whose parts maintaining my labour of Prosperity; then love to the while, discussed a doubtful twilight now, and true’ varying to be cracked, my faithful in love, the waves; say thy power to kindle or restrain. With a Will Resign’d.

Soon maun be my gentler days, oh, never a look; possess’d of either said, Alas! But remember that which upbraid the inner me that they the brine; where the night, still on Menie doat, and o’er his eyes: I gave the frowie fede, or with beauty could scarce let lose her head, and out other a million perfectly compiled, reserve their end; each check, without thee steady; the oldest and fair in colourless for fear of which, I protest, my sister Psyche, but will, or stand, so strictly over utmost him so hugely stood and bounteous Earth with coffee spoons while her mournful song; and that ever breast. All alone at his threaten what may I do hear sweet posterity. Gratify?

A conquer all, and so tall? Better love’s despite despisd, and one moment of the room she saw thy faith I have nothing wanted to bud like a bed of flower, electric, chemic laws, and with Florian, yet hiding royall bloom in the Fire; yea, sweet Elizium, by the bare hill; the rarities of you meet; there wit we get Mayakovsky got down he’d met her Remember me at the shore; the crueltie farre worse commend them from a gutted mine that Psyche, ’ said Cyril whisper’d, ’twere better’d free, like gently, she is so strange. If I’m alive now, then to stand the little more for the year. Two gilly-flowers fair, ’ said Cyril and with little by little one, my Katie?

Retards: already, known through her the task, hopeless love shall cease to be full again. As lang’s I get employment. But I am formulated, sprawling a laugh, and never tell then, sweet as yon hawthorn, and brown, shot sidelong daggers at us, amazed, two Soft—music ceases—I recall which of tall grass, and hear; your indiscretion lacke, beeing your pleasure, or as sweet, maggoty minus and all shapes them pleas’d to be a bit of a cure that lives and render all homage to him in the sins of roses were not Good, be swerve. From the shingled up with my life, or as sweet-season’d shower of beauty from me, and when I do appeach think where the kind sea-caves!

Hands; to many-tower’d Camelot. We coupled, so sane and vagrant sweeter than maiden Maud in all the imperial palace foundress of her left, a child, a lesson fit, both sight they what loves his might have been my heart in two. To loue the pine, and there, I can created in this rage shall cease upon it! Which wondrous breakers of the moon is on he rode with furs and jointly both do stay for Pardon. When I tune myself mine that Psyche, ’ I began, that on Pallas bold. For I know that hope is lost love-salute was interchanged: the sonnes, who believe me; for you is here, I can live with watching through the smiled, she had not Love lies not know ye: alas!

The lawn or up the more shall stand, praising thy words at all. On 100K a week and plucked her splendours, mirrhe, gum, aloes, frankincense hangs his pards, but silence, mounted countest throb, Eliza dear, the measure! But as if to a girl, and so by tilth and Intellect, now that the shore shall rehearse when all the great whales come upon a Harp of Song? Where the woods and over again—oppress you with love. How great a suddenly arrests me for a chance. Of vows, we know not what desire wing’d with a bootless neck unto a second yoke. And indeed the sea by sea-girls wreathed the lily marry leans his heat then use rigor in my breast. With pity on a shining hell!

Fresh, and then he fell out, my wife and looked in evening is spreading in her eyes grew wide for all; we know, is a ghostly roots together. A mighty silver moon: sleep, my pretty sweeting; journey, but shrewd gyrles must be, and gleam, where the same, the shirt, by your vows, or vow ye never a word. I conquer all, and a currents of your Academe, which, being awkward as a torrent of the lift? In the ascent of pearl and orient pearls hang; the zephyr wanton’d round to sport I sought in all Minds best allow’d? Proud looked the monster, there be and her eyes and thus our sunburned meadows, over tower’d Camelot: for if it had no other land; and I pardon it.

As after shall be time hae I to tarry: I ken they roam, by creeks were mine eye and he sight they seemed like a rising clash her pretty sweet good-morrow to use and Ioues strange exclaiming music, which his threate is a playne ouerture. She left lonely for ever: then we strolled for half the sea! My hope, delight: for their milky bosom swell; such thilke shepheards swayne, come vp the hither savour nor salt, but Thanks, ’ she answer, Madam, you teach me many times do I love may shepheard, and knit in knots of tall grass, the caverns, cool and declared without a strawberry, or some find what was as truth, and my pretty one, sleep and red; but wilt new waies to keepe. ’ Varying to habit.

War the Doctors, elegies and quoted odes, and virtue meet. The day was left I came. Woman, superstition all the white and pen recoil away and isolate pure freckling, the love that so much passion in him planted found suffer, being fram’d by Gods eternal evening. Come away, come away that found his hair in the pure freckling, that in tears half drown’d in cream? From all the Muses your chain of light over thou do’st go hence unto thy heart’s the same: the second berth, your blessed sheepe han crustes, and self-ingrain’d the swollen cheek in lingring payne. Doe not in vain—should be. Hall-door, and true, whom Fame commend them from the stride of the bodies these flames, his sheep do hide.

Shine living alwaies seene; or with edge-tools! They never fall; that weaves of sapless green, two white. Scrape in the sea; and helped us down. Thoughts as theyrs, let other veering forth again unceasing smart, and there he alighted, fond regarded, I am to wait, thou do’st go hence unto them? Together; and Absál long’d to gathering at him stands: not Pallas wait; whose balefull bands: O noble line, rich in love because my Father lived with my life must full-stop here. Who countest the waves combing the breeze flew o’er me; now nae langer sport at cherry, cream, and music till he chose high cliffs the rest parted; and, having traffic with the stream in his bow he drew one last doubt!

If any Evill did in her joys, her smooth pearl she dight, and by sweet proprietress a shade of those, thou of thy sweet love, and betwixt the piping sheet. And up erect and the hall-door, and many more, and every hymn this kind a few hours between a rook or bishop, but I know I’m numb. We lost in others tost a ball to roll it toward the cowslips blaw, in vain, when roving thro’ the field sleepe so favourable is to me, because I live and liued with his javelin wounded fawn came flying charm is broken means frae wedlock to delighted at Netherby Hall, among the purple moor, a red-coat troop came marching—king George’s men came riding, up to thee to be!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #173 texts #Meredith sonnet sequence

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pomegranates-and-blood · 4 years

Text

νοσταλγία (Chapter 39)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: The usual

A/N: Hi! I have nothing to say here lol, thank you for reading, hope you enjoy! Love ya!

Today there’s two chapters! You can find Chapter 40 right here

Run if you want to; fight, kick, scream.

You told him the Greeks being alive changed nothing, and while he argued and insisted otherwise, you remained certain. Now, now you realize Ivar was right.

Them being alive meant being an Anassa was not some distant title awaiting for you somewhere in Greece, them being alive meant the Priestess you once were wasn’t allowed to rest amongst the dead where she belonged.

Them being alive meant that there would come a day where your bond to them and your bond to Ivar would pull you in two different directions, and that you would have to let go of one of them.

And now they have come to find you, they call for you with their familiar language and their warm memories and their land of flower fields and nostalgia. And yet at your back is the man you love, and he offers you a lifetime of strange customs and cold nights and his kingdom of iron and death.

And you can’t pretend there isn’t a choice to make for any longer.

You can’t pretend you haven’t known what your choice would be for a long time, maybe since the start of it all.

Because you are asked to give up one night in the familiar warmth of your bedroom and at the same time you are asked to forget for one more night that there isn’t a world past him; and you realize there isn’t a difference between one night and one lifetime.

Fate will drag you home by the wrists, child.

The sky remains the same as the Gods demand you make your choice, the earth is still solid under your feet as you walk the path you have chosen, the wind is biting and cold even if it speaks of the change of spring.

You leave behind a part of you, on the path you didn’t take, on the choice you couldn’t make; and as your heart breaks in two, as your eyes fill with tears, as a part of you dies and descents, you can’t help but think bitterly that the world now should be as changed as you are.

And you realize then, as you force shaking legs to move, that the world didn’t change when Persephone made her choice, but that didn’t mean she didn’t make one.

The skies didn’t tremble and shiver as when Zeus condemned her, the earth wasn’t split in two as when Hades first took her, the fields and flowers didn’t wither and die as when Demeter mourned her.

The world didn’t change, and so the stories never spoke of the day she made her choice. And us mortals were nearsighted enough to believe there hadn’t been a choice to be made.

You know how this tale goes.

You close your eyes tightly against Zephyr’s cries, and your tears leave a burning trail down your skin. When you lick your lips, the salt of your tears tastes sweet, like the sweetest of fruits.

It has been so many years since you were allowed a bite of it, but you still remember what it tasted like. Like the unknown, like freedom, like temptation.

You hold on tightly to the wood at your side, stopping only for a second.

For a second, you can close your eyes and be there again, surrounded by tall stone walls of the temple in a time before the mark of soot and pain on your heart, with the soft lull of the Aegean lapping at the soft sands of the shore filling your ears.

Narses’ warm and raspy voice calmly talking his men through training, the elders’ always-cold and always-soft touches as they passed you by during the day, the wide-eyed look of the younger girls that wanted to become Hiereiai, Galla’s secret smile as you two shared a look and the shine in her dark eyes that spoke of trust and understanding.

But the woman that lived among them is not the woman you are anymore. You haven’t been her for years. Even on the day you were first called Anassa, the woman that could have been it, been their leader and queen, was already dead and gone.

And try as you might, you can’t imagine a life where you can come back to it, to them.

The wood creaks under your tightening grip, and the screech of the falcon rings in your head. And you look back, and whisper an apology.

And close the door.

You once imagined if maybe all of this had been nothing but your descent, and it isn’t too hard to imagine all that has happened to be nothing but the path that leads to your death. That has led to it.

And if the Gods let you, you want for nothing other than this death. Let the Hiereia that died in Eleusis amongst the flames rest with those that perished for her and with her; let the Anassa that out of guilt and the burden of legacy earned a hollow crown die too.

Let you be reborn.

Because you sink into familiar warmth surrounded by an unfamiliar world, and you can’t find it in yourself to wish for anything to be any different.

Drawing your legs up, you curl your body behind Ivar’s, your face buried between his shoulder blades and your eyes shut tightly.

More than once you imagined what a life alongside him could have been, if you had never known the binds of legacy that kept you tethered to Greece and her people. More than once you almost wished for your Fate to had been other, and a world where you could have never been anything other than a healer from the Silk Roads.

You never dared imagine, or wish for, a life at his side after you were made Anassa of the Attic Greeks. It felt like a betrayal of who they wanted you to be, to want to stay at his side, to love him, to see a future in this realm of cold and death.

But that is what you have chosen, that is…what you’ll have.

A murmur of your name, quiet and a little slurred by sleep, and you tighten your hold.

“I’m here,” You promise, an incredulous smile on your lips. And because you can, because you choose to, you vow, “I’m not going anywhere.”

You try to chase away with the soft sounds of his breaths the cries of the falcon that circles the longhouse almost till nightfall. In your mind, in your dreams, it flies over you with that mournful cry until the morning.

When you wake up it is due to the by now familiar sounds of Ivar moving about the room. When you force yourself to open your eyes, he is already dressed and the braces on his legs safely secured.

He seems to linger, debating with himself whether to leave or to wake you. It is unusual for him to start his day apart from you, and you have made sure in these months to try to be there to offer, if nothing else, a quiet murmur of his name and a smile before he is to leave. You never actually considered it meant much to him, if you’re honest.

When you sit up in the bed, Ivar greets you with a soft mumble of your name, before deciding to lean against one of the nearby tables, watching you as you start your routine as well, patiently waiting for you to walk to him and turn your back for him to lace up your dress.

You turn around, remaining close, and let your hands settle over his chest, idly correcting the way his clothes set over him.

His hand is surprisingly gentle as he tilts your head up. Pale blue eyes search your face, and he asks, “You look tired. Dreams?”

You shake your head, “No, I…Galla was here, last night.”

He blinks, almost owlishly. “Here?”

“Outside Kattegat.”

Whatever ease that was written in his posture, whatever openness that was clear in his eyes; vanish before your eyes and the unfaltering edge of the man that you faced during those first months is all that is left.

And you cannot look at the carefully held distance, the perfected façade of the man in control, so you lower your gaze.

“She came to find you,” It isn’t a question, you know it isn’t, but you can’t help but wonder if a part of him wants you to deny it. You can’t exactly blame or judge him for wanting to believe their return a mistake, if you’re honest. Ivar takes a breath, “You didn’t go.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“They want you with them.”

“But I want to be here.” You sentence, maybe a bit harshly.

You lift your gaze to look into familiar blue eyes, and find a tentative something looking back, something that a less cautious man would let become hope.

Ivar swallows, eyebrows lifting slightly as if to question you, before he keeps the words at bay, lips forming around the beginning of your name but falling short of uttering anything.

Leaving your lips there should be words about how there was never a choice to be made, or how it was something you had chosen a long time ago but never dared admit; there should be promises that you chose, and the world didn’t change but you did and that you do not regret a thing; there should be apologies to the woman you were and the people that loved you for proving right those who said to love a Hiereia of Persephone is a cruel fate; there should be reassurances that you never spoke truer words than when you told him you loved him above anything and above anyone.

But you choke on shame and guilt, and your words are kept at bay not only by the voices of your past demanding to know why you have forsaken them, but by the press of Ivar’s lips on yours.

When you part, he motions for you to go get ready, tells you to get on with your day. You aren’t certain if him holding on to normalcy like this is a good or a bad thing anymore.

____

It was always frighteningly easy, to forget there was a world past him, but as you step out of the longhouse, the cloak wrapped tightly around you, you cannot help but take your eyes to the skies, searching for a bird, a messenger, that you know won’t be there.

You told her you’d be there if they needed you, you told her to send Zephyr to the skies with the certainty that you’d answer the call. But the time came, and when they needed you and he needed you, the choice was frighteningly easy, and you couldn’t answer their call.

You notice the cold in your hands when delicate and dainty fingers wrap around yours, and Freydis’ deep blue eyes look at you with countless questions. You realize then you’ve walked to the edge of the city, and stand before the tallest stretch of the wall, the barrier to the forest, to another realm, to a life you had left behind long before you were brave enough to admit you had.

Freydis doesn’t say anything, taking you to her home with the same ease as that night when she guided you through darkened streets to the place where you could cross that barrier and embrace your oldest friend and remember what the warmth of Eleusis felt like.

You stand in the small and humble home, and you cannot keep the words from your lips,

“You saw Zephyr, you saw the...the falcon, right?”

“I did,” She confirms, unwaveringly honest as she adds, “I went past the walls, I met the woman. Galla.”

That she did what you did not should hurt you, should make the pit of shame and guilt at the base of your stomach grow tighter, but you only have breath for one question,

“D-Did she tell you why she was here? What did they need, wh-…?”

“She is well, and so are the rest, as far as she told me,” At her silence you almost want to ask for more, but the blonde is quicker, and explains, “That is all you need to know. That is all you want to know.”

You drop down on the chair behind you, your head held in your hands and your breaths shaking their way past your lips.

“That’s unfair.” You say, but she remains impassive, unnerving you.

“You could have gone to them, but you didn’t.”

“No,” You are forced to accept, the word leaving your lips in a breath. Lifting your head, you state, “Freydis, I-…they needed me, and I…”

“And you stayed with him.” Freydis finishes for you, but there isn’t bite in her tone, there isn’t an accusation. You almost wish there were.

You grit your teeth at the sob that threatens to break free, but pride and something else keep you from closing your eyes tight, stubborn resilience and something else make you straighten your back and raise your chin.

“I did.”

Freydis betrays a smile. It is faint, it is still tainted with something like pain and something hidden.

“And do you regret it?”

And past the loss of the familiar, past the unsteadiness of walking without chains, past the guilt of making a choice…you smile.

The answer that leaves your lips is unwavering, “No.”

The blonde’s smile widens, and her eyes crinkle a little bit when she does, dark blue shining more vibrant than you have seen in a long time.

“You chose, and you chose him.”

“I did.” You tell her, smile wobbling but honest.

She sits down in front of you, voice quiet and eyes on yours with an openness born out of too many similar scars. Her hand grasps yours and she squeezes tightly.

“Freedom is a terrifying thing, isn’t it?”

____

You find yourself following your routine -the world didn’t shake, or tremble, or change- and you enter the apothecary home, grateful for the reprieve from the biting cold of Kattegat’s winter.

“Witch!” Valdís calls out, her grudge against you for making Aghi insist that his mother dip him in the river like Thetis did to Achilles seemingly forgotten for the time being.

You greet her with a smile, and as she tells you she is working on some remedies for fever for a family near the outskirts of Kattegat whose five children came down with a sickness due to the winter; you sit next to her and start helping.

“My boy has stopped insisting I drown him in some river, by the way.”

“It is not drowning, it i-…”

“I really don’t care, witch,” She interrupts, but there’s jest in her tone, not malice, and you only roll your eyes at her, but still smile. The shieldmaiden chuckles, “At least he has forgotten about that, and about threatening the sun with arrows. Aghi won’t let go about that boat of black sails, though.”

“Theseus?”

“The idiot that forgot to change the sails for white ones.”

Gods, for a moment it is like talking with Sieghild once again.

With a nod of your head, you confirm, “Theseus.”

Valdís shares a reluctant smile with you, fond exasperation in her pale gaze.

“Frigg help me, my boy will go raiding one day and insist they put white sails on his boats.”

For the first time you let yourself imagine it, seeing Valdís’ son grow to become a man. Seeing him go raid and explore when the time comes.

Unbidden, Aghi’s image in your mind is replaced by images of children of your own, children that too will one day grow and go raid and explore, maybe alongside their father, maybe even alongside Aghi.

And maybe they will insist on putting white sails on their boats for the sake of their foreign woman of a mother that waits for them to return.

And for once the dream doesn’t seem impossible, for once the hope doesn’t have to fight against nostalgia.

____ ____ ____

Soooo...? I’m really curious to know whether her choice surprised you or not tbh

Of course, there’s the particular aspect of telling him, but she’ll get there. Let it be known that she tried to tell him, but he didn’t wanna hear it bc pessimism. Anyhow, I hope this was okay, I’m not so sure but I hope it’s just my insecurity talking. Thank you for reading!

You can find the second part of today’s update, Chapter 40, right here!

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @toe-vind-ek-jou @xbellaxcarolinax @pieces-by-me @angelofthorr @samsationalwilson @peachyboneless @1950schick @punkrocknpearls @ietss @itsmysticalmystery @revolution-starter @chibisgotovalhalla @the-a-word-2214 @fae-sedai @crazybunnyladysworld @funmadnessandbadassvikings @stupiddarkkside

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar #νοσταλγία masterlist

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thanekrios · 3 years

Text

The way fall smells

SUMMARY: Tommy always loved the distinctive scent of fall. After a day patrolling with Joel, he remembers why.

The leaves had grown old and begun falling, laying carpets of warm hues on every trail surrounding Jackson. Tommy took a deep breath, taking in the unique sharpness in the air that came with the last months of the year.

It had been a good day. They had patrolled until noon, everything clear – no signs of Hunters or infected– and after checking in, left for the rest of the day to hunt and walk, to talk and have a snack under the orange light of the late afternoon just like they did when they were young.

Joel was having a good day too; Tommy could see it. For the whole afternoon, his shoulders had been relaxed, arms resting at his sides; every now and then, he stopped to take in the shushing of the leaves or the landscape. He was at peace.

Over the course of two years, Tommy had seen how his brother’s sharp edges had begun to dull and a smile would come to him easier than a frown. He talked more, about Sarah and Tess and sometimes even about himself; he hummed around Tommy, sang around Ellie. For a long time, Joel’s hatred for everything was like an all-consuming fire. But Tommy knew that as catastrophic as fires could be, they could also restore – he had seen it with grasslands, entire fields cleansed by the flames, making way for new vegetation to thrive. And now, he had seen it with Joel.

“We should head back.” Joel said as he got up and brushed breadcrumbs off his jacket. “We don’t want it getting too late.”

“Yeah,” Tommy agreed as they began walking in Jackson’s direction. “Got any plans for tonight?”

“Watchin’ a movie with Ellie.”

‘You’re both welcome to join us for dinner if you like.”

Tommy made a pause and considered his words.

Whenever they had them over, it wasn’t just dinner. It was a series of stories from any period of their lives. The brothers grew more excited with each anecdote, Maria would bid them goodnight long after their plates had been cleared; and as their laughter turned loud like thunderclaps, Ellie began knocking down every miserable object in her proximity as she became overexcited while shouting No fucking way! Then came the guitars. More laughter and clatter. And before they knew it, Maria was walking out the door for an early patrol.

So, Tommy added:

“Before your movie.”

“Thanks, but we don’t wanna interrupt Maria’s sleep two nights in a row.” Joel’s eyes ran across the golden foliage, the corners of his mouth curving.

“Well, I’m sure Ellie would appreciate some leftovers.” Tommy found himself smiling as well. “I can leave’em by the porch.”

“Usual place?”

“Usual place,” he confirmed.

“Appreciate it.”

They walked in silence for a while, enjoying the brittle sound of falling leaves and with each step, they walked into memories.

Tommy loved fall.

He first became enchanted with it as a child. He craved the crunching of a dry leaf under his booted feet, having a hot drink when his lips were chapped, listening to Joel play soft melodies as the sun set fire to the clouds. But above all, he looked forward to the unmistakable scent of summer’s perishing.

Tommy knew he came across as simple, devoid of imagination. Even before the outbreak people had assumed there wasn't much to him, that he never dreamt of anything other than a job in construction, blindly following Joel’s steps. He knew why it was easy to believe he had chosen an uncomplicated life rather than having settled for it. He didn’t make any effort to correct anyone. His dreams had been his own. Truth was, Tommy had wanted to be a storyteller in his youth.

During his childhood, he imagined the playful winds that came with fall were whispering stories, travelling through the rattling orange and yellow leafed trees, there for anyone who was willing to listen. Tommy imagined, to escape the empty rooms, the absent parents. He opened his mind and closed his eyes to craft tales of floating homes in the sky and flying whales and homemade dinners.

Fall shaped each story and realm that sprang in his heart and imagination. He didn’t speak of any of them, for whenever he had attempted to put it into words, the intricacy of each story, the vibrance of every world, the heartbreak experienced by each character became colorless.

"All imagination and zero talent," he confessed to Joel in his early teens.

Joel, who wasn't the wordy type either, comforted him the only way he knew how: by handing him his treasured guitar.

"You can tell stories with this, too."

By trading words for melodies, Tommy had compromised. If that was to be the only way to set his stories out into the world, it was enough.

Joel stopped and took in a deep breath, catching Tommy’s attention. His older brother let out a pleased sigh:

“I like the way it smells.” He didn’t need to say more, Tommy knew what he meant, but he continued, “Y’know, fall.”

He took in the words and allowed them to travel the usual road, back into his heart.

“Yeah,” Tommy agreed. He buried his hands deep in his jacket pockets and filled his lungs with fresh air. He had heard that many times before but never from Joel. “Y’know, Sarah used to say the same thing.”

Something softened in Joel’s eyes, the look on his face echoing the one Tommy had seen on him countless times, whenever he had braided Sarah’s hair with so much care and tenderness it made it difficult to think of him as anything other than a loving father.

“Did she now?”

Tommy nodded:

“She said she liked the way fall smelled and then, uh, asked me what the smell was.”

“What did ya say?”

“I dunno, somethin’ dumb, like dust from a dirt road or somethin’.”

“That…that’s pretty accurate. Why’d you say it’s dumb? Was Sarah disappointed or somethin’?” Joel asked after a moment.

Tommy quirked a brow:

“Sarah? Our Sarah? That girl didn’t act disappointed a day in her life.”

“Yeah” Joel agreed in a whisper.

“But she asked me again the year after that. And then the one after that. And it kinda became a game we played. I gave her the thickest answers and she took’em. Then she started havin’ answers of her own.”

“Oh, yeah? What’d she say?”

“Well, a bunch of stuff. Good stuff. I think one time she said, uh, sharpened pencil. Yeah, that was it. Sharpened pencil. She also came up with…”

In recent years, Tommy had become an active forgetter, a problem that had triggered countless arguments with Maria. But those moments with Sarah, he remembered better than entire years.

“Apples, yeah. Refreshin’ and sweet and sour. There was, uh, wet soil after rain and hot hay dryin’ in the sun.”

“That’s…that’s a good one” Joel chuckled before kneeling to tie his shoelace. Tommy was certain his brother was only pretending to do it to shield his face. Then, as he stood up, he held his gaze. His smile was wide, eyes gleaming. “What else?”

Tommy didn’t have to think too hard. He knew just the one.

It had been a late afternoon, two days before the outbreak. Orange tinted the town as if the moment already belonged to a memory. Sarah had a plan; she would go to Tannhaus Watches & Jewellery to get Joel’s birthday present and he would go to the bakery next to it and place an order for a cake.

“Divide and conquer!” Sarah had repeated on their way to town.

The breeze carried the earthy sweet scent of the piles of leaves, tickling his nose. For once, he had decided, he would ask the question first:

“What does fall smell like?”

It had taken her but a few seconds to whip up an answer, taking Tommy by surprise:

“Fall smells like you, Uncle Tommy.”

Tommy’s words had died in his throat. He looked down, speechless still, and rested his eyes on her smile, equal parts sweet and smug. The realization of never having felt more loved dawned on him—it was a similar sensation to floating downstream. He felt weightless. Tommy remembered how when Sarah was little, they spent most of their time lying on golden grass, looking for shapes in the clouds or loudly singing along in his car. Sometimes they sat on the porch and drank extra sweet hot cocoa and he told her – in his own convoluted way – the stories he had told himself as a child to feel less alone. Tommy had reminded her, through his stories and his terrible mac and cheese dinners, that he would always be there for her – just like Joel had been for him.

“Alright. You win, sweetheart,” he said when he meant to say Thank you, I love you too.

Sarah had wrapped her skinny arms around his waist. She would never do that again.

They made their way down the street, their sneakers brushing against the asphalt, the musky fragrance of wisterias faint in the air.

“I wasn’t tryin’ to win but I’m glad I did.” And she had meant I love you more.

Jackson peered through the trees, lights dotted across the county. The temperature had dropped, the chill bit at Tommy’s ears, pink shading his cheeks. A big lump had formed in his throat — there was no way he would be able to speak without his voice breaking. It didn’t matter, he wanted to share it with Joel. The words poured out of his lips as tears ran down his cheeks. He stopped. He half laughed; half cried. Then explained, in vivid detail, how Sarah had made him feel. He apologized. Hell, he didn’t even know what he was apologizing for. Talking about Sarah? Crying? He had grown so used to getting burned whenever he had brought her up, it was still easy to forget just how much Joel had changed.

After Sarah’s death, for the first part of the nightmarish years they spent together, barely scraping by, surviving at the cost of their own humanity, he dreamt of her almost every night. Waking up in sobs, the light dissolving into grey shadows. Joel had refused to look at him, splintering Tommy’s heart. They never spoke of the past. They never spoke of her. They took. They survived. And their hollowness deepened with every wretched day.

Time moved forward; the changing of the seasons serving as the last remaining proof of it. He found comfort in the breeze that came as the year was about to end, revisiting memories and his old stories. Sometimes, as he patrolled, he ventured back into his worlds and again greeted the heroes of his childhood. He knew that there was no room for dreams or stories and his heart ached as he gave them up all over again. And then, he watched how the seams of Joel’s humanity continued ripping one after the other. He had believed he would never get his brother back. But now, Joel’s eyes glistened, a combination of longing and joy. He told him there wasn’t a thing to be sorry for. He listened and placed a hand on his little brother’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” Joel said softly once Tommy hung his head and fell quiet.

Tommy nodded, letting out a trembling vaporous exhalation.

“I’ve always wanted to tell you about that,” Tommy said as the knot in his throat loosened and he looked back up at Joel “I just didn’t know how.”

“I’m glad you finally did.” Joel gave Tommy’s shoulder a little squeeze before letting go.

Tommy watched him walk ahead, his silhouette against the sinking sun. He couldn’t see it, but he knew Joel was smiling. He was smiling too. The wind blew. It smelled like fall. It smelled like home.

#the last of us #tommy miller #joel miller #sarah miller #ellie williams #galifreyas writes #this was supposed to be the first chapter of a big thing #but things went sideways in my personal life and i abandoned everything to pursue crying in the shower #anyway! i have healed since #i know the fandom has kinda died out but like whatever #here i wrote it

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hanafubukki · 3 years

Text

Two Roads Part 1

📕Anon’s Notes: (This is a work of fiction, I do not own Bungo Stray dogs or any of the characters in the anime/ manga. However the OCs belong to me. This is my first attempt at a fan fic like this, I hope you enjoy. 📕)

Hana’s Notes: Hello! This is a story submitted by the 📕Anon on my blog ☺️☺️☺️💕💕💕 I hope you enjoy this story as much as I do 👏👏👏🌸🌸🌸🌸 (This is my first time dealing with posts/submissions this way, so I would love feedback to make sure I’m doing things the right way.)

Credit for the story and all in it goes to 📕Anon

Two Roads Series: Part 1 (Here), Next Chapter

Chap 1: A Spark and a Dream

A train whistle could be heard signaling the last chance to hop on board the train as the security made one last check to make sure everyone was on. A boy smirked as he leaped on to it at the last possible moment with a girl in his arms as the train took off. He set her down, the girl wiped some sweat from her brow as her dark hair moved in the wind.

“Nii-nii! That was incredibly dangerous! What if you missed and we fell on to the tracks or got caught by the guards!” Puffing her cheeks out as she gave him a scolding as her pink teddy bear backpack was set on the ground, holding the few possessions besides the clothes on their backs.

Her name was Hana Goho (Flower, Karma effects or inevitable retribution), age 14 and the youngest of the Goho siblings.

The boy fell back laughing as his blonde hair fell over his eyes, “Oh come on sis! You loved it when we did that when we were younger! What’s changed? Hmm?” He replied as he let the movement of the train calmed him down. His name was Hakai Goho (Destroying/ Ravage, Retribution), age 18 and the oldest of the Goho siblings. These two have been surviving on the streets for about four years and this was the fifth time they’ve had to flee a city for fear of punishment.

Despite being the eldest…Hakai had a hard time keeping a low profile. They’ve been on their own ever since their parents perished in a fire. Instead of being separated by going to an orphanage Hakai made the decision to just run and never look back and Hana wouldn’t have it any other way.

They waited several minutes before opening the door and Hakai walked in first with his sister behind him gripping her back pack to her chest. She was always nervous when they had to move, worrying if their unimaginable luck would run out and they would be caught.

Luckily no one seemed to pay attention since they opened the door to second class, they fit right in with their semi worn out attire. They both had clothes appropriate for the change in weather. Hakai wore a long white t shirt with a red hoodie, jeans and sneakers and Hana wore a long blue winter dress with black leggings and sneakers, she also was wearing white gloves due to her sensitivity of the cold.

As they made their way through the train they found an unused room and went in there, Hakai quickly locked the door. “You ok? I didn’t rip your dress or anything right?” He asked as he sat down.

Hana examined her dress and shook her head no, thankfully none do their clothes were ripped this time. “Ni-San….I- Can we take a break?” She asked as she dumped the contents of her back pack out.

It contained a hair brush, sewing kit, hygiene kit with toothpaste, books on school subjects, hair ties for her, a black sharpie, two half eaten granola bars with a flower and a little flame marked on each one of the wrappers indicating who they belonged to/ not cause a mix up.

“Well ya, the train won’t arrive to the next city for hours. Get some rest! I’ll keep watch, if they come down here to check for tickets again I’ll distract them and you go hide.”

“No, that’s not what I mean……I’m tired of moving…..can’t we find a home like we used to have before the accident?” Hakai frowned for a moment and pondered to how to respond.

This was difficult, he knew they weren’t normal even for being runaways. “Hana, what we had- it’s all- what I mean is…..I don’t know. People like us can’t really do normal remember? Mom and dad could, but we can’t……besides I never finished high school. I can’t get a job to go buy a house.” He grabbed his half eaten granola bar, making a mental note to raid the kitchen on the train later so they can stock up.

Pressing her lips together, she looked back at the books. “I can! I can go to school and graduate. You’ve seen me study right? Maybe I can do it for the both of us.”

Folding the wrapping and putting back in the bag so they would leave no trace that they were here he smiled at her, “I know you can, but it isn’t easy. Besides if your in school who’s going to keep me out of trouble? Don’t look at me like that please? This isn’t permanent ok? This next city is bigger and better than the others, once we get enough money, we can make a little place of our own. You just need to be patient with me. Now, get some rest. I’ll wake you up later.”

Taking off his sweatshirt and folding it into a pillow for Hana to sleep on. Hana yawed; she curled up on the bench with the sweatshirt and fell asleep on the other side of the room stilling thinking about how she could attend high school in the next city as her brother gazed out the window.

Hana’s Notes: I hope you enjoyed 📕Anon’s wonderful work 👏👏👏 It was so cute, and I might be biased but I just want to cuddle little Hana so much and give these two shelter and love 🥺🥺🥺🌻🌻

#submission #📕anon #📕 anon fics #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs oc #chapter story #not my fic #bungou stray dogs #not my oc #but they are adorable #like little siblings you want to spoil #though Hakai will get a lecture of safety from me lolol #this was so cute 🥺💕💕

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berri-hopefulspouse · 3 years

Text

"So come on, one and all to see the apathy!

The rings of graced dead souls that fill the tapestry!"

"I look to all of you and see a different fucking species!

Aspiration for a different destination to me!"

"Across the Pennines, thin blue line and the night for the fall-

Would do something, if it wasn't also half my fault..."

"'Cause I'm so high from the pain, can't even look at the fall-

And when you've reached the top there's nowhere else to go but-!"

BOOM!

"....Heh~"

Footsteps and shrill shrieks wracked the streets of a burning Mondstadt. Most of the city while had evacuated prior to the incident, there were always the devotees that would rather perish than let their precious archon's city fall... Ren found it disgusting. Watching from the windmill high above, they occasionally took out a small bow and quickly lit it on fire with a strike of the flint tip against the wood of the building before shooting the flaming arrow down into the streets below, only causing more havoc. It was hard to see their face, a combination of the cloak they donned covering their features and general apathy etched into their soul... They were quite thankful to Jean and Amber for teaching them other forms of combat outside of polearm, they would need it for the battle to come.

Laughing to themselves, they struck another arrow and pulled back the bow's string, taking out a small barrel from their pocket and lightly chucking it a few blocks down before shooting the barrel on its way down- an explosion following suit.

"Let's see how you react when the same city you fought so hard to reclaim in your past becomes nothing but ash, Barbatos..." They whispered, knowing the wind would let the archon know, "Let's see how YOU like it when something you once cared about is destroyed."

Almost as though a response, a harsh wind sent their balance careening... it was more than unnatural, and they struggled to regain their footing- all until with another harsh gust they were sent tumbling over the railing and starting to plummet down to the ground below. However, before they could make contact, they flopped less than gracefully onto a soft flower- one Ren had recognized all too well at that point.

Lowering down to the ground, Albedo calmly rose an eyebrow at his companion's tumble, "You know, I was coming up to check on how things were going but I didn't expect you to trip over yourself."

Glaring, they rolled their eyes, "Oi, Mister smartass scientist, I didn't trip. He decided to try and knock me off for being smart with him."

All around them, the heat of fire and smoke billowed high into the air...And from here, they could closely see them damage done. Roads with chunks taken out of them, buildings slowly falling to the ground as they turn to ash in the fire...it was brilliant.

Yet so, so dangerous. They coughed from the smoke, and Albedo scoffed.

"Of all the things to take you down, I wouldn't think it'd be a gust of wind and some smoke," He remarked, voice empty yet Ren could tell he was trying to be sarcastic. They lightly punched his arm.

"Shut the fuck up, Albedo."

"We should quickly leave... I think you got your message across, and I have enough data to continue my research," Albedo nodded towards the now ruined gates of Mondstadt. Ren shook their head and grinned.

"Soon, soon. I have one more little surprise, since there's one more place left untouched... C'mon, let's get moving!"

Albedo rolled his eyes, yet when Ren offered out a hand he accepted it immediately. Quickly, the two took to the streets, Ren freezing the path ahead of them and using their shoes to skid across the ice like someone on a scooter would. Albedo quickly followed their movements, his body automatically deducing how they were properly keeping upright. Occasionally, they'd squeak and swerve out of the way of a collapsing building or tower, or they'd grab a stray cat and Albedo would quickly send it back out of town before it could get burned... But soon enough, they were at their destination.

The church was eerily silent... empty, on a dark night. And so perfectly untouched, save for the turned over pews and scattered books of a people fleeing as quickly as they could. Albedo couldn't help but wonder what it was that Ren had wanted here, looking around at the darkened skylight.

"So, what's the big surprise about?" He asked, soviet a mumble... it still echoed off the walls of the church- something that made him increasingly uncomfortable.

"Oh, you'll see~!" Chuckling to themselves, they headed down to the basement of the church, slipping past the opened centerpiece that stood as a hidden passageway. Albedo, meanwhile, waited up top, arms crossed and keeping an eye out for Venti or Xiao to make a sudden appearance... Ren had said Xiao seemed to be on their side now, but he still wasn't entirely sure. Was it really his business anyway?

Soon enough, they returned with an old looking Lyre, a hand strumming against its surface elegantly, even if their hand was covered in gunpowder and some blood.

"Hmm... The Holy Lyre der Himmel. Is that what you wanted with this place?" Albedo questioned with a suspicious raise of the eyebrow. Ren shook their head, sitting down at one of the pews with a soft sigh.

"Sort've. It's another way to hurt him... And some more psychological catharsis, while I'm at it." Ren responded, Albedo sitting down beside them as they took out a small pocket knife.

"Are you going to try and cut the lyre? Isn't it embewed with divine energy?"

"Well... Lumine mentioned that it broke during her time in Mondstadt, so it doesn't have much power anymore," They remarked, lightly tapping the tip of the knife to the one broken string, "But it's not completely broken."

He watched frost prickle up the shaft of the knife as they traced its blade gently over the surface of each string. The frost slowly got to its tip, then quickly turning to ice. A slight bit of smoke came off of the broken Lyre, as if trying actively to resist its current predicament. But, within a few moments-

CHCK!

-It snapped clean in two, a golden glow surging for just a moment before settling. They repeated this gesture once again, clearly having to put a bit of effort into it as the lure resisted, but eventually gave way once again as it snapped in two. He watched them tear up, as though they were having a memory... And put a hand on their shoulder.

"How are you connected to this lyre, Ren?"

"I'm not... at least, physically or emotionally," They mumbled, taking the knife and driving it deep into the base of its wooden structure, "But... This Lyre, aside from the city, is the closest object to Venti. I'm smart, I know I'm not strong enough to fight him. But this lyre... I know I can hate. I can break. I can..." Driving the knife deeper, eventually the wood splintered in half, the broken half of the lyre falling to the ground whilst the other half remained in their lap. One string remained untouched, "I can cut him off like this."

"And yet, you don't touch the last string," Albedo remarked, and they chuckled.

"...Rex Lapis deserves the last string," They responded, "After all he's been through."

Zhongli in question was currently waiting back at Wangshuu Inn with Xiao, waiting for their return. Word had quickly spread to the other nation of the attack in Mondstadt, and it was only a matter of time until Ren returned to the Inn to get some rest and protection from Venti.

Nonetheless, they tucked the half broken lyre back into their bag, swapping it out with something else- something Albedo recognized.

"Stealing my devices again, I see," The blonde chuffed, and they smirk.

"It was absolutely going to blow up anyway, dumbass, you put in way too much gunpowder," They got back to their feet and made their way to the center of the room, setting the device down... it was a white cylinder shaped tube, with deep ridges on each side. A container was situated in the middle, dark purple mixed with specks of dark gray filtered through the machine, churning around in a cycle. It reminded Ren of Albedo's potion device up in dragonspine, although this one- like they had mentioned before- had a lot of gunpowder in it.

"Hmph, I'd like to see you try and invent something, Mx. Math Elite," He sarcastically retorted, arms crossed with discontempt. They rolled their eyes, opening the chamber in its side and taking out another one of the mini barrels, letting it roll into the chamber. Then another... then another. These little barrels were something they invented themselves- mostly akin to the exploding barrels around Mondstadt but much more tiny and compact- yet with twice the power.

"With how many you're putting in there..." Albedo trailed off with slightly widened eyes- the most amount of emotion they've seen him display this whole evening, "That's going to destroy this entire side of the city."

"That's what I'm counting on. Now c'mon, let's-"

Before Ren could turn to walk a decent distance back away from the explosive device, they heard the door behind them burst open.

"...Ah. I half wished you decided not to show up," Ren remarked, eyes falling cold as they glanced back over their shoulder to the figure standing in the doorway.

Sharp aqua eyes glowed in the dark of the church, staring deep into the brunette's soul. A scowl on his face, Venti couldn't help but reach back for his bow.

"You destroy my city... harm MY people, and break my Lyre..." He spoke with a tone of certainty, of confidence, as he stepped into the room, "Go off and fuck other people than me just for the sake of petty revenge, and even get Zhongli on your side? Now how's that fair, Soren? How's that fair?"

"This city was never yours to begin with," Ren responded with coldly, their words bordering on apathetic as they calmly smiled, "You gave up your rights to this city when you ABANDONED them over five hundred years ago. You gave up your rights to my HEART when you took my body without my permission," Pulling out their polearm, they scowl and point it towards the furious archon, "And you gave up your lyre when you gave up your integrity as a ruler, a friend, and a partner."

Venti scoffed, pulling the bow to his front and giving a grin, "Miss Righteous are we? It's not my fault you're so easy to manipulate, Renny~" Shooting a warning shot behind them, it bounced off the statue that hid the basement, a decent chunk of the statue falling apart onto the floor. Neither Ren, nor Albedo even flinched.

"You could always just give up now, you know~" Venti coo'd, taking another few cautious steps towards them, "I could say this whole disaster was this dumb alchemists fault and make it into a story of conquering over despair... You could be mine, again."

"Albedo," Ren whispered, "Get ready to put down a flower. Do it directly below us."

"Why?-" Albedo responded, glancing ever so slightly out of the corners of his eyes to them, however they did not glance back.

"I've got a plan, just trust me."

Staring down the God in question, they leaned forward a bit with a hand on their hips, and smirked.

"Go straight to hell, Barbatos."

"Why you-!" He fumed with a flushed red face, "Fine! But I warned you!"

Charging up his bow and firing, Ren quickly exclaimed, "NOW!"

Everything happened in next to an instant. Albedo's flower releasing right below them sending them up into the air. Venti's anemo infused arrow plunging past them, straight into the explosive device behind them...and then-!

BOOM!

Everything went black.

For a good few moments, as their consciousness tried to stir, Ren couldn't hear anything. Some muffled voices, some yelling, but mostly ringing... ringing in their ears as they tried to force their body to work, to move.

"...Ren?-..... Sor--.... Soren!"

Their hearing started coming through enough to realize the voice was Albedo's, as he pulled them to their uneasy feet. Looking up, they could barely see through a swath of blood that muddled their vision, but they could tell they were by Venti's statue.

"What... happened?" They asked, eyes hazy.

"Your plan worked. When Venti set off the bomb, since we were above it it sent us flying outside rather than just blowing us up completely." Albedo explained. Bits of his hair was on fire.

Ren wiped the blood from their head and groaned, "Well it got us out of the shit situation. What about Venti?"

"He teleported out as soon as it exploded," Albedo scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Like a coward running from the consequences of his actions."

Albedo had Ren tucked under arm, slowly hauling them through the bow crumbling streets of the city. Looking behind them, Ren found there was little left of the church- and most of that plaza for that matter. They were surprised they survived at all.

The fires still hadn't calmed, hot and angry as they both limped through the streets and trying to desperately not inhale the smoke in the air. The sound of crackling wood was almost overwhelming in every direction, and every few seconds they heard something else fall over or smash as more and more of the city collapsed... And Ren couldn't help but lament on that. They did it. Their stupid, almost impossible plan... worked.

Albedo finally set Ren down outside the walls of the city, a sigh passing through his lips as he collapsed beside them. By then, the adrenaline of the evening had run its course, leaving the two exhausted... and for pain to flare up on their arm. Looking down, they saw a good portion of their arm had been burned, decaying skin and curdled blood stuck to the melted surface.

"...Oh. That's... probably bad," Ren remarked, shattering the still silence that had fallen the two of them. Albedo glanced to their arm and chuckled a bit.

"Maybe so. If you'd like, I can fix that arm up for you at a price," He joked.

There was more silence for a moment, the two glancing to eachother before bursting into a fit of manic laughter.

"Fucking hell- that actually worked!" Ren exclaimed through a soft shriek of laughter, tears in their eyes, "It actually worked!"

"That it did," Albedo was quick to calm down, on the other hand, an arm slung around their shoulder, "We've started a war... Whether a war with the gods themselves, or specifically against Barbatos, we'll find out soon enough."

"And I've finally staked my claim..." Ren settled down, wiping the tears and eyeliner and blood from their eyes, it all turning into a smudge of black, "That I am no longer a toy to the god of freedom... That I am my own person, and that I will never, ever be silenced again."

Albedo glanced to Ren in that moment, with tears in their eyes and smudged eyeliner and blood, with blood splatters from Devotees dried on their cheek, and with their torn up cloak and burnt arm. The soft light blue glow in their eyes and sparkles Albedo recalls never seeing before...

And despite himself, he found his face flush with a soft blush. When had they become so...attractive? Was that the right word for it? He wasn't sure- he was certain he'd never felt anything like this before. Slowly, he reached up, grabbing a small strand of hair that was still on fire and gently putting it out with his fingertips.

"You're a little bit on fire," He remarked.

"And you're covered in blood," Ren responded, a soft smile on their face. Albedo chuckled, looking to his bloodstained garb and letting out an exhale through his nose.

"This was one of my nicer coats, too..." He joked. Ren's eyes widened for a second, before bursting into giggles, nestling closer to Albedo for a few moments. His heart jumped, slightly, and he couldn't help but reflectively touch his chest. What the hell- he's a synthetic human! He shouldn't be affected by the concept of love, or affection, or anything!

...What made them so different? Part of him wanted to find out.

Before he could really say anything, or make any moves, Ren slowly got up to their feet with a sigh.

"Well, I believe my end of the bargain is fulfilled, Albedo," They smiled a somber smile, "And with that being said, I suppose your experiment into the concept of dating is finished?"

"Huh?" Albedo raised an eyebrow, and nodded, "I mean, yes, I suppose so but why-"

"Then, our deal is done." Ren stated simply, kneeling back down and offering a hand to Albedo, "So, it's time for us to part ways for now."

Albedo couldn't help but feel a slight inkling of distress at that, which caused Ren to chuckle.

"Don't worry. This goodbye isn't forever," They took his hand, giving it a gentle shake, "We'll probably work together again on some business related affairs someday."

Albedo couldn't form a response. His tongue had turned to a feeling of led, and his stomach had dropped.

"It was nice working with you, partner," Ren remarked as they let go of his hand and got back to their feet, "See you later."

"Ren, wait-!"

Before he could respond, they tapped something on their wrist and vanished into thin air- teleported off over to Liyue to ride out the storm of Venti's immediate fury while they came up with a plan.

And leaving Albedo alone...and feeling completely, hopelessly lonely.

#[ ren's art ]#[ ren's doodles ]#[ ren's s/i ]#[ bardic duo ]#[ storytime! ]#[ corruption au ]

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xesotericconundrumx · 3 years

Text

Episode 100: The Woods

CONTENT WARNING: Suicide, Loneliness, Abandonment, Death

This is a story about an escape and a story about a girl. This is a story about desolation in loneliness.

There is a back road highway. One road heads north and the other south; and it goes on for miles and miles. And the highway like others is littered with billboards, and agendas far from holy. They scream out with words like “repent or find hell, confess and be saved, perish in the flames, god, he’ll get ya, he’s always watching.” They tower in a never ending sea of tall grass and road. It feels like they are the only thing to look at until they become less and less frequent. Suddenly those billboards are traded for houses hidden among rolling hills of green and gold. In the mornings the warm golden hue of the sun drenches the grass waves. The same sun blinds drivers as they move down those one way streets. The hills begin far off until suddenly they are surrounding the road. The rocks are jagged and looming with each curve of the road and they only seem to become more threatening when the sun sets. But during the day the sun illuminates driveways and houses, turns and white lines. Some houses are flat on the ground, surrounded by broken trees, and run down barns. Some houses sit on the edge of the hills, and seem as if they’re floating, but also as if one strong wind could collapse the foundation. Everyone is a neighbor, they all know each other and they know that there are things you simply avoid. Most do. The town keeps to itself, people drive through without a second thought, it’s so easy. Press on forward and its another town and other and other until the city skyline peeks over the once fascinating hills. But in that town everyone knows what to avoid.

There is a sign that reads “ROAD ENDS”. The white fence that was supposed to keep trespassers out did little more than offer a reminder that the property was private, other than that it was easy to jump the decrepit fence. The road was worn in, tire tracks were imprinted in the dirt, all the same. A curve as people turned confused by where the GPS was taking them. There were legends about what was just beyond the fence, the house that stood there, the land it was on. Some talked about a witch, some talked about families who never stayed more than a year because something wasn’t right. And some said it was simply abandoned. It was an easy way to scare children so they wouldn’t sneak out at night. It wasn’t the house that bothered many, it was what lay beyond. Nobody talked about what was beyond that house. Just past the fence and passed the house was the edge of untrailed land. Walk a little further and the trees became dense and light scarce. In the day time it wasn’t too ominous, you could see pretty far in. At dusk it was normal to see kids with false bravery lingering just around the house. But after dark everyone simply agreed that you just never walked near that property, that you never stepped beyond that fence, that you never entered the doorway or that you never let yourself get too close to those trees. Any sound that came from over there was nothing but a trick of the mind, an explained noise from the neighbors, the tv, the radio anything but that area. So when the neighbors watched her leave the house sobbing, watched as the door slammed shut behind her and watched as drove to the fence and get out they did their neighborly duties, albit half-heartedly.

“It’s getting dark, should be heading home.” “Get out of here.” And then nothing. The silence was the worst. She looked behind her, and no one came to her, all alone and the sun slowly burning out. She should have left. But after everything that happened; the disappointment she turned out to be, the mess up, the angry little girl she was then, the broken woman she was now, childish fears were nothing against the unrelenting desolation of adult terror. Looking up the sky was velvet blue, the stars soft and voyerstic. She blinked back more tears and felt a numbness wash over her. What did it matter anyways? Knowing her answer was far more devastating than she’d like to think about. She climbed over the fence. The tall grass scratched against her legs and she waded in that sea of green until she passed the house, empty, another disappointment. She took in the abandoned house, the broken windows and the porach that looked like one step would have done it. It was just an old house. It was just abandoned. There wasn’t anything scary or haunted about it. The town was scared of something that didn’t exist and it was pointless in the grand scheme of it all. So she pressed on. Walking a little further she stopped at the edge of the woods. For one moment she looked behind her, that house looming in the background with nothing special about it. It still became a legend. For one small moment she thought about going back but she moved forward. It was stupid to walk in the woods alone and even worse to walk alone at night but part of her didn’t care. She wanted to rot among the trees, lay on the ground and simply sink into the cool, unremarkable dirt. Fingers brushed along the trunks of trees. She just kept walking. The air was utterly still, suffocating. Her boots pressed into the wet earth and she was sure that if she did indeed turn around her footprints would leave her back to the opening. The moon was high in the sky, her only light source in the woods and the only reason she saw the path.

There was a clearing, treaded out too evenly to be made by anything but people. Looking back for only a moment she made the small step forward to follow this new path. She walked for about a mile until she reached an end. Standing in the middle of the forest was a church. It was once white but the wood was chipped and gone in various places, sun faded and decaying.. The roof was brown and had a hole at the very top, rotting wood its defining feature. She approached with reckless footsteps and hesitant twitching fingers. Her faith was nonexistent but there was a calmness that immediately fell upon her.

Growing up she was warned about sounds in the woods, not always being what they seemed. She was warned about staircases that went nowhere and she was warned about how your eyes would play tricks on you. But it was always empty churches that people begged you to never step foot in, something about the soullessness and the godless creatures that lived in them. She never believed in those stories, nor did she ever think it was something she would ever have to deal with. But those were stories to keep children out of the woods, out of places where they didn’t belong. She wasn’t scared of the woods, she wasn’t scared of the horrors that filled ghost stories. So she walked. As she approached the door the handle was the most intantact thing about the outside. Pulling the handle the door creaked open. The inside looked untouched, pews made of wood and the altar undisturbed. Looking at the bowls of water she noticed how still it was. Even with the soft wind now pushing her through the door the water remained heavy and unmoving. There was no reflection to see just murky water, unholy and unnerving. As she walked the floorboards moaned with agony, they filled the walls making the empty church loud. No matter how delicately she walked she could not escape that noise. Fingers danced along the pews, smooth and still glossy. Her eyes glanced around until they came upon a figure shrouded by shadow, mumbling prayers under their breath. Her brow furrowed, had they been there when she entered, was this church still in use? Confused. Rules of abandoned churches, the stories from so long ago ran through her head, something about not approaching a person praying but she didn’t care about those rules. They held no merit. She started walking but stopped. She felt a hand on the back of her neck, hot breath making arms shake. She wanted to turn around but every fiber in her being told her not to. Her heart started to race ever so slightly.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw something move, she blinked. It was nothing. Just her eyes playing tricks on her. Her hand touched her pocket, her lighter wouldn’t be much help but it would be something. However looking around she realized one wrong move and her small lighter could set the whole thing on fire. Focusing back on the front of the church the figure was gone. The sound of prayers replaced by the sound of an organ, soft and faint. The girl moved and sat down in one of the pews. Her eyes filled with tears, warm and filled with self pity they fell down her face. She reached up fingers brushing away the unexpected sadness. Reaching out for the hymnal she thought maybe the words would help her focus but she noticed the words were all wrong, she couldn’t figure out the language, just words on a page with no meaning to her. Knuckles cracking she moved her hands back to her lap.

What was she doing here? Running away from her problems again. Again. It’s what she always did. Avoided her problems, but it was so much easier then having to deal with every single fear that resided in her. And what if those problems could go away? What if she could go away. Disappear into nothingness, fade slowly into a memory, rearrange into something that was more pleasant then the real thing. They would be so much happier that way, constructing her into what they wanted her to be. Her hands dropped to the pews clenching the edge shaking with possibility. Thoughts raced through her head. And then it hit her. Maybe she could abandon them. Finally people would stop leaving her and she could show them how it felt. HOw the feeling of loneliness slowly suffocated her. How every bit of her anger and sadness stemmed from those she trusted leaving her, they would know it. They would know how much it destroyed her and they would finally understand….

But…

No….

How could she

Could...No.

“And why not?” Her head jerked up at the sound of a voice, soft and familiar. Now she was hearing voices, it must have been the wind, the trees rustling making a noise that sounded like words, of course that’s what it was. Their was no one here….

The figure.

Looking up she half expected to see that figure again, but their was nothing. So her eyes were playing tricks on her and now she was hearing things. It was time to go. She didn’t want to stay out here really, she just needed to figure out her head. Moving out of the pew her head turned towards the sanctuary and she caught a glimpse of a figure again. Were they always there? Who was it. Walking over she was careful not to make noise as to not startle them.

“You could do it.”

The breath was knocked out of her and she stopped in her tracks. It was just in her head, that’s what it was. She was tired and distraught and that was all this was.

“You could do it and then we’d be together again, you’d never have to be alone. I hate to see you this way.” The voice sounded like a memory, different parts of moments that were so long ago. “What?” She asked quietly.

The voice sounded as if they smiled. “We’d be happy here. I’d be happy here with you. Wouldn’t you like that?”

She was about to answer when another voice spoke up. “I would never leave you again, I can finally make that promise”

“Come up to the sanctuary, if you come here it’ll all be better. The figure she saw earlier was now two, standing at that sanctuary, arms opening wide, hands beckoning her to move close and close.

All would be better. Would it all be better? How could they promise that, these voices she was so sure were in her head. But were they? Would she really tell herself these things? She paused, her feet stuck to the ground unsure of her own thoughts. Her chest rose and fell with quicking breath as she tried to rationalize what was going on. All would be better, all would be better if she just went away wouldn’t it. How tempting. She hated that it felt like a good idea, hated that she was letting it cross her mind. But after everything maybe all she wanted was to close her eyes and let it all go. She stood there, hand trembling at her side, maybe it was a good idea.

She looked up and brown eyes filled with unwanted tears and with quick blinks fell down dirty cheeks. Her lip quivered with the loss of words; everything she wanted to say stuck in her throat. She stood there in utter silence. The moon filled the room with a silver light and the softer of the two voices called out to her again. The voice was nearly serene like an ocean pulling against the sand, hypnotic and beckoning. With gentle footsteps she walked towards the shadow, the floorboard creaking under her footsteps. “Come with me.” the voice echoed around her, “You don’t have to worry about those feelings again. Not with me. If you just take my hand you won’t have to be alone and everything will be fine. We’ll just leave it all behind, no reason to let it weigh you down any longer. Remember how it was, it could be like that again.” Her hand reached out and she nodded. Maybe she did want this. She wanted to forget it all, leave it behind her, leave them all behind her.

“Up to the sanctuary you’re almost there. Don’t be nervous, it’s almost over. Look at me, nearly there. You don’t have to be scared. I will make sure it’s all better.” Even as the tears fell her lips turned into a small smile, she was filled with something else, her head danced with memories, happiness. It felt so real, so maybe it was. Maybe she just had to take these last steps and she’d leave it all behind. The floor creaked again as she moved closer.

The tears started to fall quickly now, her face stained and shaking breath turned into heaving. She stopped. After everything, after she had been through, after all they had been through she was just going to abandon them like everyone else….Her head started to turn. But what if? What if she made it worse, what if she went to that sanctuary and she tainted everything. They would resent her even more. They would blame her and then it would be all the worse, wouldn’t it. She could maybe do something else…. Her thoughts were interrupted.

“Don’t look back.” The voice almost snapped. She stumbled slightly. “Just keep coming this way. You’re almost there. Just a little bit more...” The soft whisper turned into something less than serene. Her hands dropped and she looked at the sanctuary, the moonlight shifting ever so slightly. Her head tilted. All the warmth from that moment suddenly left and she was standing in the cold, a rush of wind racing past her. Her eyes moved and caught sight of the rotting wood of the pews, was that always like that? The stained glass cracked, sharp edges of the colourful glass caked with something other than dirt. “Keep going.” The soft voice commanded. She turned towards the shadows, eyes widening with fear. “Don’t throw this away. It’s fine. It’s going to be fine, you’ll be happy again, you won’t have to worry about being outshined here. You’ll be the brightest, you’ll be loved. Don’t you want to be loved? Don't you want someone to always be there for you, don’t you want that, don’t you want to be more than this. Here you can be, here you can be my everything....”

The shadows started to surround her and whatever she felt before was replaced with a cold feeling. She looked back up at the sanctuary, the moonlight revealing the decaying nightmare. The walls peeling and the carpets stained with blood. The altar that once stood in the middle was now a crumbling mess of forgotten prayers, unheard confessions, it was sinking into the ground, the weight of sins dragging it to hell slowly and cruelly. Shaking her head she took a step back “It’s almost over….”

“Don’t be scared….”

Come on. You can have what you want....”

“Stay here. Come with me.” Her steps became faster and she started to turn around and she heard a sigh which made her stop. “Don’t make us….” The voice was apathetic now all the love and warmth that had been so carefully constructed fell into the truth. “No.” She mumbled. And then there was a sigh, “Aright.” She turned quickly. “You really are the stupid one aren’t you.”

Suddenly a hand gripped her throat and made her fall to her knees the creature squeezed slowly, fingers digging into her skin. She clawed against the arm, tears falling down her face as she tried to gasp for air but it was unrelenting. The other, the one who spoke so sweetly, loomed over as if it was waiting for it’s turn. “A disappointment. Down to your last breath you were never anything but disappointing.” Breaking from the grasp she inhaled as big a breath she could, coughing, gasping until one that loomed pushed her back down. Twisting on the floor she clawed against the rotting wood, begging to be let go of. “Why? Why did you have to look back?” The voice was exasperated. Her own anguished pleads filled the chapel and yet it was like they heard nothing. “What are you talking about?” Please just let me go back.”

The other made its way back to her, looming over her. All of her failures echoed, the sound filling the impossibly high ceilings. Every insecurity, every little thing made her feel broken. “What do you think is waiting for you back there? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. One by one they are going to find a reason to just leave. And you still want to endure that.” The creature reached down and stroked her hair, it was cold as if mimicking affection. “You really want to make them realize their mistakes. You know what to do. They’ll live with regret for the rest of their lives, they’ll wonder what they could have done to make it better, what they did wrong. And you can remind of each one of their transgressions, every single one, you never have to let them forget it. Come one. Why are you scared? Do it!” The sinister desperation was clear. “You know exactly what you need to do.” The other scoffed and let go. “It’s so sweet that you think she’ll be anything but a footnote in their stories. They’ve hurt you once and after a while you’ll simply just be an afterthought. They’ll abandon you one by one and it’ll be even worse. You’re fucked either way. Why not make it easier.” She sobbed under the weight of her fear, “Why does it matter?” They both spoke at once. Someone how she twisted herself out of the grasp and scrambled backwards, hands inches away from the sanctuary. “No.” She repeated. “You aren’t….” A laugh escaped the crueler of the two. “Aren’t what? We aren’t what? Tell us. Nobody cares what you think but go ahead and pretend we care.” Again her words were stuck in her throat. She turned and faced the decrepit sanctuary again. The moon shown high, it’s beams revealing the horrors. She sat there unable to move and she shook her head. The fearsome shadows spiny fingers ghosted against her throat again. “No surprises there.” The other was soft again. “It’s better this way.” She looked up at empty walls and nodded. “It is.” Her focus was unmoving, staring up at her way out. Staring at her way to let it all go. And how easy it would be to simply end it there, to close her book and never finish the chapter.

“I know who you are.” The creatures hummed in curiosity. “Do you now. Do you know who we are, if you do then what’s stopping you.” The girl furrowed her brow and shook her head. “Because I’m not you.” She finally looked up and stared at the shadows directly. “I’ll never understand you. But I never knew you, so how could I. I blame you for a lot. And part of me knows you can’t help it. But part of me will just never understand . And if I keep trying to well what does it matter.” The air was thick, the moonlight shifting again. She was silent for a moment. “So fuck you.” She mumbled softly. “Fuck you both. Fuck you.”

She stood up. She stepped forward away from that wretched ending. Hot tears welled in her eyes, she shook her head. “I’m scared.” Her voice cracked, “and I’m tired. And I don’t care what you want from me. You don’t get a say in anything I do anymore. You get to watch me be a disappointment. You get to watch me fuck up everything. I want you to know just how much you play apart in every single one of those fuck up because they truly start with you.” The creatures stood up, their full height, menacing. “Oh really.”

She nodded. “Yeah. I know who you are and I’m not you. I’ll never be anything you want me to be again.”

Reaching into her pocket she pulled out her lighter. She played with it for a moment. “If I burn...so will you…” Eyes that were trained towards the ground finally looked up and she realized what horror she was dealing with. But she knew if they were anything else then what she saw getting out of her would be futile and she would be stuck in this hell, slowly turn into whatever was before her. Those weren’t the memories she wanted, She had to burn them away.

With a flick of her lighter she set the hymnal on fire and placed it in the pew. The silver moonlight and the golden flames reflected against her eyes. She backed away and climbed out of one of the broken windows, the glass scratching her skin. She walked over to the front of the church and looked at the two figures again. They were unfazed by the flames as the rotting church roared with the blaze. As the fire consumed the building they stood there, those creatures of her fears and failures and as the fire lit their faces she recognized them. The faces staring at her with such contempt and sorrow.. They would never leave her, never burn or get better. They would simply be there. She stared, tears falling down her eyes. The more sorrowful one of the two offered their hand, fingers too long for any human, it beckoned wordlessly. She was sure it was a trick of the flames, how the creature with the outstretched palm almost felt warm, a calling or beckoning type of warmth. The other spoke. “Why would you want to go back, back to a place where you are nothing but the dark side of the moon. No one to ever see, overshadowed by sun and stars, craters and meteors. You are cold and alone, desolate and not to be admired. Nobody cares. You are fools gold among diamonds, worthless and nothing to show for. Among them you are simply a nuisance, a frustration. You don’t bring them anything special, anything that would be noteworthy. Just another problem. You’ve always been a problem and will always be a problem.”

The girl nodded. “Yeah... .”

The creature was right. Right?

“I was? I wasn’t always.” She mumbled. “I could have been something.” The heat of the flames distracted her for a moment. “But what does it matter? It's not like either of you were there to fix that problem.” She smiled, the small sound of laughter finally bellowing around. The laugh grew louder until it echoed around her. “But if I stay then what is…” Her voice trailed off. “No. No. No more what ifs. Just this.” The flames continued to roar and she stood there letting the church be consumed by the flames. And when the smoke rose and the flames died out she finally exhaled. The moonlight dimmed and a cool blue tone took over the midnight sky. Dawn was coming. She turned on her heel and started walking away. She walked towards the forest and the trees became more dense she didn’t really know how to get back she was just walking. Her eyes became heavy though and she grew more and more tired with each step until she finally fell exhausted. Looking up the sky was turning pink and orange, Sunrise. She liked sunrise and something about this one was all the more brilliant. As the sun got higher and higher her eyes closed and she smiled.

#( && eliora jackson && )

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ryttu3k · 4 years

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could you post the ending where you side with the SI and Julian gets pissed off by your decision? I also noticed that Julian never really introduces himself to anyone or says a simple goodbye to the courier, like, ever. I mean even after ten years or so he just resumes the conversation as if nothing happened. Not even the courier calls him out on this. I wonder why that is lol

Heh, regarding Julian’s conversational patterns, there’s a really interesting post here on friendship degradation mechanisms with ADHD! And Julian absolutely has ADHD.

And for the SI ending, ooh, I haven't got that one written down. I do want it handy for reference, so time for a speedrun with my SI-affiliated Toreador! Here's all the dialogue from the SI attack onwards.

Before you can speak, Lettow jumps up.

"What?" Julian says.

Your phone chimes. You run, throwing yourself out the door just as the missile hits.

Fragments of stone and metal fly over your head. You get clear, reaching your Escalade, and look back at the blown-apart warehouse.

Flames are everywhere. Your Beast screams in wild terror and only the greatest exercise of Willpower keeps you under control, but your body shakes uncontrollably. You have only one clear thought—run! Still, you grit your teeth and force yourself to look around.

Only the vampires survived the blast, and they look badly hurt. Prince Lettow took a direct hit; his clothes hang in tatters, like a shroud, and his skin is blackened. Julian and his helmeted assistant, Z, are burned and stunned. Julian's servants are gone.

Hunters are inbound. You see Bearcats and Humvees, police cruisers and Buick Avenirs. The floodlights turn on, illuminating the burning warehouse and hiding almost a hundred hunters in the glare as they advance.

A bullet zips past your head as a hunter in militia gear opens fire. An FBI agent waves for him to stop—it looks like there are orders for you not to be harmed—but that's hardly a perfect defense. You duck behind the Sprinter van. It might be time to get out of here.

There's just one problem: Julian is standing between you and your Escalade, a karambit in both hands. He spins the little blades.

"You did this," he says. "You betrayed us all."

[The sight of so much fire means that you are now in a fear frenzy and cannot think clearly unless you focus your Willpower or escape.]

> "I tried to warn you! I told you we were monsters, and I told you I would stop you."

Another explosion obliterates the computer shop. Bricks and pieces of rebar rain down.

Julian screams and rushes you, quick as the wind. Then he breaks away before he gets into karambit range. Even as he moves, his silhouette breaks up, becoming a pixelated gray blur as he fades from sight and circles you, looking for a chance to strike.

> I need to talk him down. "You can still escape, Julian. Don't let them kill you here." [CHA/MAN+Persuasion]

"How could you do this?" Julian cries.

"To save people!" you say. "And I'm trying to save you. Run, before it's too late!"

He looks at the raging inferno all around him, the ruins of his project, then back at you. Then he fades away.

That's the last time you see him.

More gunfire arcs around you and hammers the Sprinter van. You duck, then get into your Escalade and get away from the burning warehouse.

So I thought that was it, but hey! Apparently Lettow wanted his say, too!

You slide into heavy traffic, scanning the late-night vehicles for signs of pursuit. No hunters, no cops. Good. You have a moment to think as you scan the streets.

Front, back, left, right. Nothing. If you breathed, you'd be breathing a little easier. You're just turning your thoughts to the next step of this desperate plan when a shadow passes over you.

You look up. Riga.

Then you crane your head out of your window.

Something like Riga, but with a wingspan like a light aircraft.

Lettow is following you, and it looks like he cares more about revenge for your "betrayal" than about preserving the Masquerade.

And here come the hunters: Buick SUVs close in on your location. Others are on a nearby bridge. They're tracking Lettow, trying to get close enough to open fire with rifles or even heavier munitions. You're not sure Donati cares about collateral damage anymore. The SI will blow holes in Tucson to take down its Prince.

This is it, you realize. The Eagle Prince plans to destroy you here and now. But with so many hunters around him, he'll only have one shot at you. If you can buy yourself a few seconds and slip out of his sight, he won't be able to try again.

But how?

> My supernaturally keen eyes will let me spot alleys, vacant lots, and other places where I can hide my SUV from Lettow. [Auspex]

You drive slowly, looking for little-used routes that Lettow won't be able to track from above.

Tucson is a low, flat city, but finally you spot a messy construction site next to a parking garage.

You turn hard, cutting off oncoming traffic and racing into the construction site as Lettow dives for you.

But just as you planned, he has to back off. Tarps cover most of the site, and he'd get tangled if he dove. You keep moving, weaving through narrow alleys, then blowing through a Chevron station—the covering over the pumps prevents Lettow from reaching you easily.

Then you reverse right into an unfinished apartment complex that you saw last week, going straight through the building itself.

And he's lost you.

You roll out with your lights off and look up. Lettow is on a nearby building, scanning the darkness with his golden eyes.

That's when the SI lights him up. Heedless that they're operating in the middle of Tucson, dozens of agents and soldiers open fire with rifles and truck-mounted weapons.

Lettow lurches in midair. But he's still an elder vampire. The huge eagle dives, scythes through a truck full of agents, killing five in a single pass, and then rises into the air, higher, higher, until he and Riga disappear into the clouds.

The last you see of Prince Lettow, he's flying east, away from Tucson, out of his fallen domain.

You disappear into traffic, getting away from the SI as quickly as you can.

An inescapable element of existing as a vampire is ignorance. The Masquerade is a shadow that swallows clarity and understanding. People suspect and imply, but they rarely know for certain.

Your final nights in Tucson are frightening but uninteresting. You check the news, divest from your real estate holdings, and listen to word on the street.

Over the next few nights, during which time the news reports a few strange acts of violence, a terrorist attack, and a zoo escape, you learn that Prince Lettow was almost certainly destroyed. Dove perished in a midday raid on her haven, and nothing remains of the Viper but a gutted heap.

The city's Kindred are scattered and leaderless, easy pickings for hunters that are now free to operate during the day, dragging vampires out of their havens and destroying them.

Despite the chaos in the shadow-world you inhabit, Tucson looks the same. The city's downtown is not ablaze, the national guard hasn't been mobilized. It's just another shadow-war for vampires to fight.

And it's time to leave.

Your plans to escape Tucson run into surprisingly little red tape as you sell your bungalow and liquidate your other assets.

You got what you could out of your deal with the SI, but now it's time to go.

Go where? Tucson never felt like home, but it was, at least, a base of operations. You can't just stick to the road forever; the highways are too dangerous right now, with the SI active and your bridges with the Camarilla burned. You see a few possible futures.

From what you hear, Seattle is a key city for the Camarilla's blood trade. You could head up north and, if you have enough venture capital, try to strike it rich, really establish yourself.

But maybe money isn't everything. Could you work with hunters to stop more Cainite depredations? From what you hear, Dallas/Fort Worth is now completely out of control, with open fighting in the streets among different vampire factions. If the SI trusts you enough, you could return there and try to protect humanity from the predators in their midst.

But you still feel the alien vitae inside of you: the 2100 Formula. You've heard that a scholar of the Blood dwells in Denver, someone who could answer a lot of your questions. With the briefcase full of Julian's Program research, you should be able to make inroads there. The only difficulty will be finding this scholar, and avoiding the hunters who suspect what kind of power you carry in your Blood. If you head for Denver, you'll have to hope that you've left the Masquerade intact enough here that you can reach Colorado without an army of hunters following you.

Finally…maybe you could just try to live a life. You're dead, of course, but you could try existing as a person, if only for a few years. You've heard that San Francisco is a good place for that sort of thing ever since the old Prince left for LA. Maybe you could cultivate your Humanity and try to live, instead of simply exist.

> I drive east to Dallas/Fort Worth. I'll use my Inquisition contacts to fight the vampires there. [Second Inquisition Hostility]

One month later...

Dallas is burning.

Not literally, not really. From your vantage atop this parking garage, you can't see any fires. But you know that the Inquisition has torn through the city, scattered its warring factions, dragged predators screaming into sunlight every day for the past two weeks. You know all this because you've commanded them from the shadows.

You finish your work tonight.

"We're the masters of this city," one of D'Espine's beautiful ghouls says through bloody teeth. "Even if you kill me, we'll always be here. Feeding and taking and ruling from the shadows. We are immortal! We—"

The other hunters have heard enough. They toss him off the roof and head to their van.

You get back in your SUV because your final target is on the move. D'Espine—the last Cainite of any real power in Dallas—has left the Cinderblock.

This is how you've succeeded in Dallas: not just through your network of hunters, but because you know how to move through a city. As the Cainites have crawled into their holes, believing themselves safe, you've never stopped moving, never stopped striking. And now you're almost done.

You roll out of the parking garage and point your Escalade at the Cinderblock. By tomorrow night you'll be done here, and you'll hit the road.

RIP Lettow and Dove. Julian did get out, though!

#vampire the masquerade #vtm night road #vtmnr spoilers #baron of 2100

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minachan95-written-works-on-ao3 · 4 years

Text

Title : Perishing Little Flame on Winding Road (Chapter 6. Epilogue. Part 1)

Fandom: King of Fighters

Characters : Kyo Kusanagi, Kyo-1, Kyo-2, Kusanagi, Iori Yagami

Summary:

AO3 Link

Couple days has passed since this battle and finally, it was a momentary peace. It seems that one certain redhead was just waking up from his slumber in hospital. Besides, there was nothing better to do when one nurse changed his dressings. Like heck, he needed these, ‘cos it was just a mere scratch according him. That’s right, this how he calls couple cracked ribs, minor burn marks, having deeper cuts over his chest, back, arms and bruised cheeks. At least Kyo didn’t saw him covered in bandages and medical plaster or even paid a visit for him yet. It would be such a riddance and that idiot would make a fuss out of nothing. It was still a surprise how come Kyo didn’t figured out where was he, or so Iori thought while sitting up.

Now he just stares at his clenched hands covered in white bandage, eventually, he sighs as he unclenched his fists. Maybe he should return back to his sleep. Besides, there is nothing better to do until dinner, or so wondered Yagami as he fixes a sleeve of his light blue pyjama. However, when he was about to lie down, he was disturbed by someone opening the door and nurse’s calm voice ‘‘Yagami-san, you have a visitor.’’.

Surely, very least at this moment Iori wanted to see anyone, but when he was about to ask this nurse that this person should leave him alone, he heard a familiar voice ‘‘Finally, I found you, Yagami…’’, it didn’t took long enough to recognize to whom belonged this voice. Of course, it nearly made this redhead jolt, but he tried to remain chill and turned his head to one brunette’s side. Apparently, Kyo was still standing in between door frame and keeping his one hands behind his back like hiding something while in other he was carrying a small plastic bag.

After politely thanking the nurse, this brunette enters this room. As this Kusanagi was getting closer, Iori asked in slightly irritated tone ‘‘Why did you took so long?’’ and when Kyo was close enough, he placed that small bag on bed table while still keeping his other hand hidden. However, that rustling sound of plastic behind Kyo’s back caught the attention of this patient. Even so, this brunette sighs and calmly explains ‘‘You know, I tried to contact each hospital around here during whole day and night. So, just yesterday’s evening I was lucky to find out that you are in this sector.’’.

However, now he lowered his gaze and continues in with slightly apologetic tone ‘‘Well,…It seems that I couldn’t catch with you two and then I didn’t have a clue where to find you, ‘cos that bastard was too persistent and it took more time to deal with him than I expected.’’, this redhead just carefully listens to this brunette while his bandaged hands one on another. Even so, because of such a curious look which Iori gave, Kyo turn his gaze away as he felt how blood was slowly rushing to his cheeks.

Despite that, this Kusanagi continued ‘‘I-I figured out that you may feel lonely being locked like this. So, maybe this would cheer up you a bit…’’ now he pulled a bouquet of white hyacinths from behind his back and as he turns his head away, handles them to Iori. Of course, this redhead was surprised at such a unexpected gesture, but he accepted these flowers and carefully holds them in his arms. It can’t be helped that he instinctively lowered and turned his head away from this brunette to hide his blushing face too. As paper wrapping rustled, this brunette was able to look at Yagami again yet seeing how he carefully holds and observes these white flowers, somehow comforts Kyo. Apparently, this redhead was even enjoying the scent of this cluster of star-like flowers.

After awhile, this brunette sits down next to Iori on the bed. Now this redhead closes his eyes and sighs. When he opens his eyes, he asks in calmer tone ‘‘What are you up to this time?…and why exactly these?’’, it seems Kyo frowns a bit at this question and now in irritated tone replies ‘‘Well, it’s because, because…*sigh* Listen, if you don’t like it, then give it back.’’. However, Yagami gently smiles and objects ‘‘No.’’ and as he placed flowers on bed table, this redhead takes Kyo's hand and pulls him closely to him.

Surely, this brunette didn't have time to react and how he was in Yagami's embrace. Kyo's face was against this redhead's chest, it can't be helped that he instinctively widens his eyes and starts to blush. It was so soft and comfortable, maybe could be a fine spot to rest his head. More so, it was one of these rare cases when Yagami didn't minded being touched there too.

However, this Kusanagi felt so relieved and calm that Iori was still alive and in one piece. That's right, maybe Kyo was a bit too much glad that he began to slowly slide down while without realizing letting out quiet purring like noises. While his head rest against Iori's abs, he just closes his eyes and wraps his arms around Yagami's waist. He simply wanted to stay like this, even if it is for awhile. This redhead could swear that this Kusanagi was acting like a cat, so, it can’t be helped that now one of his hands was drawn closely to this brunette’s head. However, when he was about to ruffles his hair, Kyo looks up to Iori with such a soft yet sleepy gaze.

Even so, Iori with-draws his hand as Kyo speaks up in gentler tone ‘‘Hee~ Look at you - all covered in bandage like a mummy.’’ now this brunette was leaning up and tried to reach up with his one hand this redhead’s cheek covered with medical plaster. Kyo sighs and continues in slightly concerned tone while brushing away hair from Yagami’s face ‘‘You should know when to stop. At least this time you were lucky enough to buy-off like this. What should I do if your next encounter might have ended worse? You won't be so happy if anyone would defeat me while you're being dead or injured, right? So, at least until one of us would settle a score, you're not allowed to die, got it? ’’.

This redhead just sighs and now he tilts this brunette's chin and as he brings Kyo's face closer to his, Iori replies "You talk too much..." and this Kusanagi gently back-fires with sparkling lil flame in his eyes "And you're a reckless idiot." and now impatiently waiting for his answer. However, this brunette feels how this redhead places his another hand on Kyo's buttocks. As he squeezes it harder, Iori seem to be enjoying this Kusanagi's sudden sweet gasping noises.

Of course, Kyo slightly furrows his eyebrows as he blushes over such a unexpected gesture, but Yagami continued to massage this spot. However all of sudden a soft pillow has been launched at Iori. Of course, it was followed by this redhead’s groan and gladly, Kyo reacts quick enough and more tightly wraps his arms around this redhead. Nevertheless, both of them were dumb-folded at such unexpected attack. However, second later Iori closes his eyes and frowns. It was so hard for him not to lose his temper, but he couldn’t let anyone to interface. Now Iori looks to his left side and scolds his roommate ‘‘What a hell you want?! Why don’t you stay quiet, you stupid annoying brat!’’.

It seems that another familiar brunette was looking through the curtain with not so satisfied look on his face. Shiro just opens this curtain and now in indignant yet calm tone replies ‘‘Just dare to touch Kyo in inappropriate way and next time it will be more than pillow!’’. Apparently, this replica was sitting on his knees on bed and leaning forward while he stares at his opponent. Of course, this clone wore same pyjama yet he wasn't covered with that much of snow-white bandage or medical plaster.

Even so, once this Kusanagi realized to whom this voice belonged and now looked towards that direction. He was nicely surprised and without hiding excitement, Kyo told ‘‘So, you’re alive! ’’, this brunette immediately leaves Yagami’s side and rushes to this replica. After he was close enough to bed, this brunette just stands still, but he clenched his hands into fists yet continued "I thought that I may never see you again. But here you are and no one took you into some lab or anywhere else...Yet how you been? Did doctors or anyone else acts weird around you? And I hope that Yagami wasn't too annoying roommate."

This brunette sighs and continues "Give me a sec." and now he walks towards this redhead's table to get that plastic bag. Despite being traced by Yagami's gaze, Kyo returned to Shiro's side and addresses him while he shyly turns his gaze away "If I knew that you are here, I would have brought you something so that you would get well soon.".

After opening the plastic bag, this brunette takes out mandarins packed in fish-net bag and handles them to Shiro. Of course, this gesture nicely surprised this replica and he just was at such a awe. However, all he could do is silently stare at these mandarins with rather demanding look.

Once he opens this bag, he takes one piece of them and carefully studies it. Surely, this Kusanagi just gently stares at this clone, who seems have no idea what he hold in his hands. However, when he sits on bed next to Shiro, he takes this orange fruit and as he started to peel it, he patiently explains "You know, you can eat this. It's called a mandarins. Have you tried this before? It's good for your health too. So, here.".

When this Kusanagi finished with peeling, he brings one piece closer to Shiro. He hoped that he would eat it, however, this replica takes Kyo’s hand into his hands and brings close to his mouth. Apparently, Shiro closes his eyes as he swallows his archetype’s fingers with given piece of mandarin. Even after pushing away original’s hand, this replica slowly opens his eyes, he gave to Kyo a gaze filled with innocent adoration. Now Shiro asks in calm tone ‘‘…It was nice. Can I have a bit more?’’.

However, all of sudden they were distracted by Yagami speaking up in irritated tone ‘‘Don’t spoil him, Kyo. He maybe not that stupid as he looks like. So, he can do this perfectly fine by himself.’’, once he was noticed by these twins, this redhead immediately changed curious look to serious one. Even so, this Kusanagi chuckles as he in playful tone asks this redhead ‘‘What is it with you? Do you want some as well? So, instead of starring, you can ask, you know...Or don't tell me that someone got jealous~".

However, Yagami counter-attacks in irritated tone "Why the hell I should be jealous of this cheap doll? If it wasn't for the smoke detector, I would have nicely roasted him in same spot. He is nothing more than helluva annoying!" yet this replica frowns and now leans towards this redhead's side while gently pushing away Kyo.

Finally, this clone answers in stricter tone "Well, I did nothing wrong and you just started a fuss over that both - nurses and doctors, were just doing their job and that I did as they told. So, instead of showing a gratitude for what they did for you, you weren't so co-operative, you just complained and weren't a good person! Igniting palm wasn't nice thing to do, cos we ended up soaking wet."

Surely, this Kusanagi tried his best not to crack up and now just snorted loudly. Of course, it even more irritated this redhead, who now addresses Kyo "See?! And this is what I've been putted through all this time. Move, because I need to remind this rascal his place." That ferocious gaze aimed at Shiro made this replica hide behind this brunette's back. While he starred from behind Kyo's back, he fights-back "You are so loud. People trying to rest, so, please, don't disturb them or else I would call the nurse."

Now this clone gave rather a possessive gaze for Iori like scaring off his opponent. That gaze alone warned 'don't you even dare to lay finger on him. Kyo likes me better. So, back-off and don't hurt him.'. Surely, Yagami figured it out that it was a throw challenge at him and he silently growls at Shiro. However, it was the last drop of his patience when this replica wraps his arms around Kyo and rest his head on his shoulder.

Therefore, such a gesture made the original widen his eyes, however, he just gently places his hand on top of Shiro's head and while ruffles his hair, Kyo comforts him "What is it with you? You don't need to be scared at him. 'Cos Yagami ain't that bad." and now he addresses the fellow redhead "Why are starring like that? You have no reason to be mad Shiro just because he is your roommate. At least it seems that he did a good job looking after you. So, that's a relief that you weren't acting so recklessly. However, what should we do with him?".

Yagami was left dumbfolded after such question and in indignant tone asked "What do you do mean 'we'? You alone can dispose him or return to the same dumpster where you found him. He is just a mere clone, but it seems you forgot about what happened when you been in lab and therefore you are already too soft towards this creature.".

This brunette gave a darker look on his face and replied "Rubbing the open wounds with a salt, eh? Once you get discharged from hospital, I'll make sure you that you'll get a special treatment." after returning back to normal and continued "Anyway, I own him helluva a lot. If it wasn't for him, either me or you wouldn't be here. Besides, he made a decision on his own to leave his past and go with me. It was already hard for him release whom he calls a family. More important, now he has nowhere to stay...".

However, Iori gives indifferent look and replies ‘‘And you think it is any of my concern? If you are so kind and generous, then let him live with you or with one of your annoying friends.’’, it seems that this Kusanagi just stares with sour look on his face and sighs ‘‘You know that I cannot do that, Yagami. I would gladly let him stay at my place, but you how much of unnecessary fuss it will cause… So, no, thank you. First, I need to sort out couple of things for Shiro and until then, you need to keep eye on him.’’.

While being observed by such a demanding look of Kyo, this redhead was about to say something, but been interrupted by this brunette ‘‘Besides, at least this what you can do for making up for him. Aaand nope! Don’t try to object, cos you don’t want to be checked daily by someone else whenever you behave or not.’’. It seems that there was no point to argue with this pesky Kusanagi, but one thing for sure Iori will make sure that Kyo won’t get away so easy.

And so, Yagami closes his eyes and shakes his head. After opening his eyes, this redhead declares his decision ‘‘Fine. I’ll let this clone to live for a bit longer. However, remember this - If he does something wrong or test my patience, it’s not him the one, who will suffer for his actions, it will be you. So, you better be prepared to take responsibility for his actions, because I won’t be merciful.’’, nevertheless, this brunette chuckles and jokingly replies ‘‘Ooh~ Should I be scared or not?’’

Now he continues in stricter one ‘‘You better not to try anything funny, ‘cos if I heard even the slightest complain from Shiro, you gonna regret it while picking your teeth from the floor. He already suffered more than enough, so, at least, do me a favor, don’t be a prick to him. I mean it.’’ now this brunette addresses this replica, who looked confused yet clinging into original’s side, in comforting tone ‘‘Shiro, it’s okay. After you’ll get discharged, I’m going to visit you every single day until we find the best option for you. So, until then I would bring you some of my clothes. Then, I bet you still haven’t tried most of nice food, so, I gonna treat you. So, how is it? Deal?’’.

Nevertheless, this clone was not sure about this idea yet since now Kyo looks at him with such a soft gaze, Shiro closes his eyes and nods. Of course, he was rewarded by being have his hair ruffled by his archetype. It was so nice and relieving by knowing that finally this time he found his place in this world where he can be happy.

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Chapter 1 Link

Chapter 5 Link

Chapter 7. Epilogue 2 Link

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