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mrslittletall · 4 years

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Title: Off Balance (Chapter 4) Fandom: Hollow Knight Characters: The Pale King/The White Lady, The Pure Vessel, Hegemol, Quirrel Word Count: 5.018 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21805333/chapters/54797833 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/190573594499/title-off-balance-chapter-3-fandom-hollow

Summary: The Pale King finds a teacher for Hollow and thinks about how to end the infection. There is also some anxiety. And then he learns about a new ability of Hollow.

(Author's note: A big THANKS to @ruthlesslistener, because of his Hollow Knight crackship I found out WHO exactly could be Hollow's sign language teacher. Y'all haven't forgotten that he was a part of the ancient civilization, right?)

The nearer they got back to the palace the more the thoughts of the still lingering infection crushed down on the Pale King. He had allowed himself to forget it, for a brief moment, for Hollow's sake. At least he tried to convince himself that this had been the case.

There was a lot of work to do and he better started soon, even though he didn't know just where to begin. He was pretty much starting by zero.

He glanced over to Hollow, the thought about them being the plan once again in his mind but as he saw them inspecting their new nail from all sides, a sense of wonder radiating from them, he knew he couldn't act on this plan. More so, he didn't want to act on this plan anymore.

Once again the memory of a thousand dead children rose back to his mind, oh, how much he tried to forget this, but it never went away and he felt a tight feeling in his stomach, asking himself if he would get sick.

Only when he felt the gaze of Hollow on himself did he turn to face them and mutter: “I am fine, don't worry about me.”

Hollow didn't question him further and they continued to walk back to the palace in silence, only the sound of their footsteps were heard in the eerie atmosphere of the Ancient Basin.

Still lost in thought the Pale King startled and flinched when a soft voice spoke to him: “Your highness, Hollow Knight, have a good morning.”

The voice belonged to Hegemol, the biggest warrior of the five great knights and the most gentle one. “Oh, Hegemol, good morning.”, the Pale King muttered, still not really there, and Hollow gave him a bow.

“Is that a new nail I see there, Hollow Knight?”, Hegemol asked and Hollow nodded enthusiastic and presented the weapon to Hegemol who took a look.

“That is some fine work, from the blacksmith in the city, I guess?”

Hollow nodded again which made the Pale King remember that they still had to find a way for them to communicate more properly than having to write everything down. Hegemol was considerate enough to ask them question they could answer with a nod or a shake of their head, but not everyone would be so thoughtful.

“I can sense it. You are itching to try this nail out, aren't you, Hollow Knight?”, Hegemol asked.

“They are fine with being called Hollow.”, the Pale King chimed in, briefly having forgotten that their new name wasn't public yet. Or that they were his child. Or that he had threw the plan out off the window. Really, only his root and the dreamers knew about it. And Hollow obviously.

“A nice name.”, Hegemol said. “So, Hollow, how about we spar with each other?”

Hollow nodded again at Hegemol's question but then looked over to the Pale King. Ah, they were asking for his permission again. One day he had to sit them down and explain this whole thing to them, but that day wasn't today.

“Feel free to spar with Hegemol.”, the Pale King said. “We have things to attend to in the palace anyway. But, Hegemol, please be careful, they are still off balance.”

“Of course, your highness, but a good sparring can help find your centre of balance quicker. I will make sure not to hurt them.”

“Have fun then, Hollow.”, the Pale King said, walking to the entrance of the palace, not noticing the stares Hegemol gave him at his last remark.

Once the Pale King had entered the palace a royal retainer approached him. “Your majesty, you have returned. In your absence we have received a letter from Deepnest as well as a letter from the Watcher. Also a messenger from the teacher has arrived that asked for an audience.”

The Pale King bit back a sigh. He wanted nothing more to go into his workshop and find out something, anything about how he could tackle the infection, but it seemed like there was more diplomatic work to do first.

“We will talk to Monomon's messenger first.”, he said. “Deliver the letters into my quarters. Where is the messenger now?”

“In one of the waiting rooms.”, the retainer said.

“Bring them into the small conference room, we will talk with them there.”, the Pale King said before heading into the direction of the aforementioned room. He wondered what Monomon wanted to talk about that she send a messenger instead of a letter.

After the Pale King had sat down at the table in the conference room he didn't had to wait long until there was a knock at the door and the royal retainer led the messenger inside. It was a pill bug having his head wrapped in a scarf and carrying a nail. In fact, the Pale King recognized this bug as Monomon's personal assistant from the rare times he had visited the archives or the times she had brought him with her into the palace. That he felt the need to carry a nail for protection against any infected bug pained the Pale King a bit.

“Your majesty, good morning. Thank you for meeting me.”, the pill bug said, giving him a bow. “I am Quirrel, Monomon's personal assistant.”

The Pale King had been right then, he just had forgotten the name. Or never got it, he wasn't know for talking to his subjects a lot. He started to ask himself if he hadn't give the vessels a voice so that they couldn't cry suffering or if it was because of his own distaste of having to talk with others.

“What is Monomon having to talk about so that she feels having to send a messenger?”, the Pale King cut right to the case, pretty much ignoring basic politeness. It wasn't even noon yet and he already felt a headache coming. “We believe that a written response to our letter would have sufficed.”

“...She wrote a letter.”, Quirrel said, putting one on the table in front of the Pale King. “But... see for yourself.”

The Pale King picked up the latter, started reading and immediately knew what Quirrel was talking about. “...She wrote it in her code.”

For some reason, Monomon tended to write down information that weren't poetry in a strange code that didn't make any sense to anybody but her... and probably her assistant.

“Yes.”, Quirrel said, “That is why I felt it was better to deliver the letter personally and translate it for you, your majesty. I must apologize for the inconvenience, Monomon didn't listen to me when I told her that she should rewrite the letter. She was completely engrossed into her work.”

Even though it was just an explanation for the current situation, the Pale King felt a chill in his body. He remembered the times where he had stayed days in his workshop and refused to come out, not listening to anything what was said to him and only eating when his Root had came and gently forced him.

Why had he never realized just what a mess he had become over the last years?

“Your majesty, are you feeling quite alright..?”

The question of Quirrel snapped the Pale King out of his thoughts. “Yes, our apologiies.”, he said. “Would you tell us about the contents of the letter?”

“Gladly.”, Quirrel said and picked the letter up. “The first part basically is her telling you what a wonderful experience it is to have children and that you should raise them with all your heart.”

Another harmless thing that made the Pale King feel like someone had stabbed him with a nail. The sickly feeling in his stomach from earlier arose again. Oh, he had raised Hollow, but he had given his best to not view them as a child and raise them as obedient little knight instead.

Besides, the children who never made it out of the abyss hadn't even been that lucky...

“Please continue.”, the Pale King said as Quirrel gave him a questioning look. Was his inner turmoil really that obvious? As long as his breakfast stayed inside of him everything should be fine.

“And in the second part she talks about that she is glad that you decided to find another way battling the infection though she still will offer her services as a dreamer should you change your mind, but she hopes that it won't be necessary. She also offers any help that she can give in this trying times and you shouldn't hesitate to search her advice out.”, Quirrel finished.

“We see... thank you for delivering this message.”, the Pale King said and there were a few seconds of silence. Of course, he had to dismiss Quirrel or he wouldn't be allowed to leave, but... he maybe already required Monomon's assistance.

“Before we dismiss you, could we ask you to deliver Monomon a question?”, the Pale King said.

“Of course, your majesty.”, Quirrel said.

“We are searching for a way for someone who can't talk to communicate.”, the Pale King said. “Surely Monomon has some knowledge about this...”

“Your majesty, if you allow me to speak.”, Quirrel said and the Pale King gestured with his robed arm for him to continue. “I am quite versatile in different languages and one of my researches was about non verbal communication.”

That piqued the king's interest: “Would you say you are knowledgeable enough to teach someone how to communicate non verbally?”

“Certainly.”, Quirrel said. “Though the learning speed depends on their knowledge of the language.”

“They can read and write.”, the Pale King said, still amazed that Hollow had taught themselves to write. Or had someone taught them?

“Then it shouldn't be any trouble at all, they already have a grasp on the language, they only need to learn how to express it differently.”, Quirrel said. “Who is it you wish to learn non verbal communication?”

“Our child.”, the Pale King said. “Formerly known as the Pure Vessel. We ask you to act as their teacher for non verbal communication.”

“Certainly.”, Quirrel said, got up and bowed to the Pale King. “Please allow me to write a letter to Lady Monomon about this so that she knows about my whereabouts.”

“Of course...”, the Pale King said before remembering and added: “You are dismissed.”

Quirrel gave him a last bow and left the room. The Pale King picked up Monomon's letter and decided to head to his quarters to take a look at the letters from Herrah and Lurien.

He read the letter from Herrah first. Unlike the last one she spared a few more words and he was delighted to see that she would allow Hollow to see Hornet, but she wouldn't come to the palace and instead he should bring Hollow into Deepnest and also he had to tell her they would be coming a day before they departed.

Now that Herrah's duties as a dreamer wasn't needed anymore she very much was back at being the queen and ruler of Deepnest and the Pale King already shuddered when he thought about all the diplomatic talk that would have to be done in order to not make Deepnest invade Hallow's Nest. Even though the mantis tribe would stay guard, with the growing infection even they might struggle.

He would answer Herrah once he had talked to Hollow about going to Deepnest and picked up the letter of Lurien. The watcher wasn't as thrilled about the plan being cancelled, from the three dreamers the only one who very much expressed distaste and asked the Pale King to think this all over. He genuinely seemed to believe that with Hollow containing the infection the city would be safe.

And the Pale King had believed this himself once. Had seen it actually with the gift of foresight that the wyrms possessed. Until the moment he had seen his child flinch in fear... from himself nonetheless.

Thinking about his foresight, he hadn't watched into the future a long time now. It was a difficult thing. There were so many strings and turns that it was hard to determine if the seen future would come true... He only could put his faith into this ability and hope for the best. But now, it felt like him relying on his foresight was what had put all of his regrets into motion in the first place.

Abandoning the letters for now the Pale King walked into his workshop, deep in thought. Instead of starting to work however, on finding a solution, he sat down, curling his tail around one of the chair legs.

He wanted to be absolutely sure. And so he closed his eyes and concentrated his mind on the strings that would show the future, trying to find the one that would show him the future if he would revert back to the original plan.

What he saw wasn't pretty. That certainly was the shape of Hollow he could make out, they were kept in chains of binding and... the infection leaked out of them, they were in a terrible shape and they looked like they were in pain, in so much pain.

The Pale King had seen enough and he cut his foresight off, not wanting to see this a single second longer, breathing heavily. The headache that he had felt coming earlier now was very apparent in his head.

Why had he never seen this outcome once he started with the plan? Had he been so blind to it all? Had he truly believed that the good outcome would happen? He knew just how many different things the future hold but instead of using his gift to check them out, he had decided to focus on solely one and had convinced himself that he would bring every sacrifice possible to achieve this future.

The Pale King had enough of his foresight for now. He stood up and paced up and down the workshop, thinking. Just how could the infection be battled? Sealing it was out of the question. The very reason he had created the vessels was that he had needed a construct that was strong enough to contain a god or he could have just used a kingsmould. That the vessels had been born of god and void had been rather important.

Though this didn't help him anymore. He wouldn't create another vessel and besides Hollow there weren't anymore left. He had seen them. Most of them had died before they hatched, a few of them had cracked right after hatching and the rest... that was the hardest memory, the rest had fallen down to their deaths by trying to climb out of the abyss.

Only Hollow had made it and after he had taken them out he had sealed the abyss, the shame and regret of all the dead children at his hands heavy on his mind. He hadn't been down there anymore since he had taken Hollow home.

No, he needed to tackle this issue differently. He needed to start with the infection. What was it he knew about the infection? That it was the Radiance' doing. The Radiance was a god ruling over the dream realm. And because of that she spread the infection in bug's minds while they dreamed. As a Higher Being himself he was safe from the infection and Hollow, well, void didn't dream. At least he thought that. He needed to ask Hollow about this. He knew so painfully little about them and it was all his own fault.

The problem with the infection though was... once a bug's mind was infected they were no coming back, not even his voice could reach them anymore and the Radiance even was able to infect the shells of dead bugs and puppeteer them as she pleased. Sooner or later they.. he would be overpowered and she would reclaim the kingdom, built on mountain of corpses.

As if you are any better., a voice whispered in the back of his mind and he felt the churning in his stomach again. At least my crimes tried to save the kingdom., he thought to himself. It didn't feel very convincing.

No matter how he looked at it, Hallow's Nest would never have peace with the Radiance still around. The only solution he had was very clear: The Radiance needed to be defeated.

But how? The Pale King still had the pain in his mind when she had nearly killed his younger self and he hadn't even intended to fight her, simply negotiate with her back then. While it pained him to admit it, but he was no match for her, especially because she needed to be encountered in the dream realm, not possessing a form for the physical realm, whenever she needed to talk to her subjects (if she even needed to do it, they were a hive mind anyway), she would just do it by talking through one of the moths.

The Pale King picked up some chalk and walked over to a board at one of the walls in the rooms, starting to jot down some ideas and draw up some ideas for spells but he felt like he was going nowhere, more than often erasing what he had on the board and starting over. He was so lost in this task that he didn't hear the knock at his door and only noticed it when a second more vigorous knock sounded.

“We are busy, come back later.”, he cut the one outside the door off, but they apparently weren't having it and the door clicked open. The Pale King turned around, annoyed, hissing: “We told you we were busy.” but every aggression he felt fell when he saw Hollow standing in the door frame. And next to them was his root.

“My wyrm.”, she said, an icy tone in her voice. “Are you aware of how late it is?”

The Pale King didn't answer at first, judging by the tone of her voice it could very well be that he had pulled an all-nighter. Like.. it had happened a lot when he had started to work with void. “I... don't know...”, he finally said.

“Late enough that you have skipped lunch and dinner.”, his root said and then she turned her attention to Hollow. “See, this is what I talked about. He gets so obsessed over his work that he forgets everything, eating, sleeping, which time it is... and you can't just go away when he tells you.”

And there was the churning in his stomach again, of course Hollow would follow anything he said to them, he had raised them to follow his orders and they wouldn't even intervene when his self destructive habits would take over. He put down the chalk he still had been holding and breathed slowly in and out.

Thinking about it, the churning feeling in his stomach probably had been partly hunger. He hadn't eaten anything since breakfast and while as a higher being he could survive on soul he hadn't absorbed any soul in a while either.

“I am glad to see that you successfully uprooted yourself, my root.”, he said, acting like the conversation about his self destructive habits hadn't taken place. “And Hollow, how was your training with Hegemol?”

Hollow pulled out the journal and scribbled down in it for a little bit before handing it over.

“It was great. I managed to try out my new nail. I only fell over five times.”

The Pale King frowned a bit and looked Hollow over at the last comment but he couldn't see any cracks in their shell and not even the robe was dirty. He assumed that they had healed themselves and that Hegemol had told them to take off the robes before training. Maybe besides robes an armour also would be into place?

The Pale King gave the journal back and said: “That is good to hear.” Then he remembered about Quirrel and that he would be able to teach Hollow non verbal communication. “By the way, Hollow, I found someone that agreed to teach you a way of non verbal communication. I could introduce him to you right away.”

“Mealtime first.”, his root chimed in and he could feel one of her branches on his shoulder and knew he didn't had a say in this. She would force him to eat if he refused. Gently, but she would still make sure that he would eat.

“After we had dinner then.”, he said defeated.

“Good, then let's all go together.”, the White Lady said. “Because Hollow here refused to eat until you would come out.” She gave him a look and the Pale King just knew that she didn't approve that his destructive habits already bled over on their child.

“My apologies...”, the Pale King muttered, finally coming out of his workshop.

“Then let's go. I have let one of the side rooms prepared for us to take in our dinner.”, the White Lady searched with her branch for the Pale King's claw and as he took it he could feel the warmth radiating from her.

A short while later the three of them had sat down at a small table where a meal was prepared. The Pale King only now realized just how hungry was but still ate slowly and in a regal manner, even though his only company were his wife and his child. Hollow ate their food in their own unique way and the Pale King caught himself glancing over to them again and again, trying to just figure out what they were doing, one day he should just ask, but was distracted when he realized that his root was eating too.

“Root, normally after you rooted yourself you don't need food for a while.”, he said.

“This is correct, but any food I take in still gets stored in my roots for later consumption.”, the White Lady said. “Also, I missed the taste of it. Besides...” Her gaze wandered over to the table and got stuck at Hollow. “...I always was hoping we could take in a meal like this... as family.”

That was the final nail in his chest for the Pale King's anxious feeling over the whole day. He stopped eating and put down his fork, muttering, to nobody in particular: “I am sorry... for me needing so long to find out... for me thinking I was doing the right thing... for me... trying... to save the kingdom, but... failing...” The last word came out with a shuddered breath as he put his head in his claws and curled his tail around himself.

“My wyrm, look at me.”, he could feel the warmth of his Root and her embrace. “You did what you thought you had to do.”

He looked up to see into her face, that beautiful face he had fallen in love with and flinched when he felt Hollow's ice could touch on his back, briefly flaring his wings until he noticed that they weren't a threat. He turned around to see them presenting their journal and the words in them: “Father, it's not your fault, it's mine. I should have been pure, but I wasn't.”

“Hollow, no, don't say that.”, the Pale King said. “It's not your fault, it was never your fault. My plan was flawed from the very start. You have nothing to do with its failure.”

They closed the journal and looked down, as if not being convinced by his words but then simply joined the embrace. Being basked into the warmth of his root and the cold of his child was a very weird feeling and after a while it even put the Pale King into a rather light mood.

“You are suffocating me with your body temperatures.”, he jokingly said and Hollow was the first to let go, the Pale King almost beating himself up for this remark, of course they wouldn't get a joke but his root saved it.

“He meant it in good way.”, she explained before ending her embrace. “Are you feeling better now, my wyrm?”

“Yes, my apologies.”, he muttered. “I didn't want to ruin our family dinner.”

“There is still plenty of food left.”, the White Lady said and soon after they went back to eating and the atmosphere was a lot calmer and the Pale King even managed to relax.

After they were done with eating and were enjoying a cup of tea together, the Pale King spoke again: “My root, do you know by chance where Monomon's messenger is right now?”

“The little pill bug? I gave him permission to use the library, he wanted to keep working on his research when his services weren't needed.”, the White Lady said.

The Pale King set his empty tea cup down and addressed Hollow: “Then let us go see him before it is time for you to go to bed.”

“You better go to bed too today, my wyrm.”, the White Lady threatened. This meant, no all-nighter for him in the workshop today. She would find him and remove him from his work, regardless how much he would fight against her, she had her methods to make him fall asleep. It wasn't the first time that the Pale King assumed sleeping spores.

“What are you planning to do now, my root?”, he asked.

“I will spend some time with the knights and let them fill me in about the events while I was rooted.”, she said. “Dryya tells me to the best of her abilities but we all know she isn't talking that much.”

Both the Pale King and Hollow nodded at this before they left the room, saying their good byes to the White Lady. Quirrel was in fact found in the library where he was enthusiastically working. The Pale King was sure he had never seen another bug which was that positive.

Once the Pale King had entered the library, Quirrel looked up from his work and bowed: “Your majesty.”

“We are here to introduce you to our child.”, the Pale King said and stepped aside so that Hollow came into view.

“Hollow, this is Quirrel, he will be your teacher for non verbal communication. And Quirrel, this is Hollow... current heir of the throne.” It felt strange saying this but at the same time it also felt good. The more the Pale King accepted Hollow as his child the more he had the feeling he might be able to move on.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, pale heir.”, Quirrel said.

Pale heir, now that sounded like an official title and made the Pale King a tiny bit uncomfortable. One day he had to get Hollow to the public... but he wasn't ready now. And neither seemed to be Hollow because they opened their journal and showed something to Quirrel.

“Well then, Hollow, then please just address me as Quirrel.”, Quirrel said. “Do you have any important business to do right now or would you like to have a first lesson for sign language right away?”

Hollow glanced over to the Pale King and he knew that they wanted to hear more about it, he could feel it from their stare alone. “We can stay and attend your first lesson.”, the Pale King said, leaning against a bookshelf.

“Great.”, Quirrel said and cleaned up his work space in lightning speed, amazing the Pale King.

“We could use an assistant like you in the workshop.”, he muttered more to himself, not being aware that he was heard.

“By living and working with Lady Monomon I had to learn how to make space for more research quickly.”, Quirrel cheerily said. “Let's begin the lesson, shall we?”

Hollow nodded and sat down, practically bouncing with excitement.

“When it comes to sign language there are different versions.”, Quirrel started. “Because not every bug possesses fingers. I myself have four of them. What about you, your majesty?”

The Pale King pulled his sleeve back to reveal his clawed hand. “Claws.”, he said, “But four like you. I can move them freely.”

“Hollow?”, Quirrel said and Hollow was staring at their “hands”. Or stubs what it was. These clearly weren't fingers they were possessing.

“Ah well, I guess we have to use the simplest form of sign language then...”, Quirrel started but Hollow shook their head and stared at their stubs. The void at them started to swirl and it looked like it melted, making not only Quirrel but also the Pale King staring in shock. Their void body wasn't supposed to be melting, the worst thing that could happen was their shade cracking through their shell. The Pale King straightened his posture, ready to stop Hollow but then a popping sound was heard and they... had gained fingers.

They made a little excited jump at their success and the Pale King was at their side in a flash. “Hollow, that is amazing! You can change your body!”, he said, taking their newly formed fingers into his own claws, examining this. “What else can you do? Did you know you could do this all this time? Is that how you eat?”

“Ahem.”, the voice of Quirrel came. “I am glad that you are so supportive of your child's ability, but I believe we wanted to hold a lesson.”

“Our apologies.”, the Pale King said and went back to lean against the shelf while Hollow did the same thing with their other stub, now possessing two very functioning hands, flexing the fingers for a bit.

Quirrel smiled at both of them and then said: “Then let us properly begin.” (Author's note: So, a question for my readers. I was thinking about including some of the other vessels in this fic, the one we saw in game with a less than happy ending. They wouldn't play the largest roles, but I started to develop them in my mind and I would really like to include them. The main focus would of course still stay with PK and Hollow. Alright and now the usual “headcanon time”: I like to think that Monomon was quite of an airhead. A brilliant mind, but more often than not she would have her head in the clouds. That is why she wrote the letter in code absentmindedly, the same code you see in the lore tablets in the archives. As a plant I like to think that White Lady don't really have to eat when she roots herself, getting all the energy from the ground, but she still likes the taste and can store eaten food as like emergency energy. Hollow's shape shifting abilities? Actually canon, look at Pure Vessel's void tendril attack. I really like the little stubs of the child vessels but I don't think that they would just gain fingers by transforming, that is a deliberate choice. For how Hollow was wielding their nail before they had fingers? By curling the stub around, like we see in game with Ghost or Broken Vessel. Also, I had planned to make this family dinner scene just fluffy, but NOPE, sudden angst!) Next chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/614026182742114304/title-off-balance-chapter-5-fandom-hollow

#hollow knight #fanfiction #the pale king #the white lady #root/wyrm #the pure vessel #hegemol #quirrel #littlewritesstuff #pk needs therapy #so does hollow

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thingstheyearshaveleftbehind · 4 years

Text

A real life account of: The Struggle Between Major and Minor Deities

Robert took a monday off

Official reason: house inspection

Unofficial reason being: who the fuck wants to work.

When the inspector finished up around noon, we packed ourselves into the car and drove off towards our final errand.

I walked in the building and reserved a computer.

Robert(whispering a,”be right back”) walked out to the courtyard to take a phone call from our banker about the status of our loan.

He was gone for long enough that I grew ancy.

to be free

to explore

My favorite place in the whole wide world

The Library

I’m sure I’ve been to as many as 60.

They are all different, some considerably better than others,

But when you step inside they all feel the same.

The smell of old paper, and unwashed bodies

The stillness

The quiet order

The sense of possibility

They feel like home

And not the home I shared with my parents, siblings, a dog named Patsy Cline and God

A restful home.

A place I felt safe.

I was in kindergarten when I learned how to read.

In first grade I got my very own library card.

And it was third grade that I figured out I could ride my bike there all on my own.

But the next milestone, it’s hard to pin down the year, or my age.

What I remember was the feeling

How it crept Up ON Me

How I would then, roll it around in my head

...Until...

A thought became a feeling,

Leaving

brain,

and sending a jolt of giddiness though my body

Like a shudder

Like a breath

I had a secret!

I Had A Weapon

I Had An Arsenal

I HAD A SECRET WEAPON ARSENAL

I had a library card

And I could(should I work up the courage to do so)

Check out any book I wanted

My house: a police state,

my father: a corrupt monarch,

Reigning down his,

“Because I said so’s over me

Quoting(SCREAMING) an inch from my face

The scripture,

“Children submit to your parents for this is right”

BELTING out his thundering denunciation of,

(His finger pointed at me and into my chest bone)

“JEZEBEL”

A woman in the bible who was eaten by dogs for being wicked.

For not worshiping the one true God.

For instead worshiping other gods

FOR HAVING AN OPINION!

All those years of you jabbing your finger into me,

Like you can press your will into me,

Releasing it from you,

Letting it flow

Through you

From your finger into my heart

But then,

riSING UP,

like a SHEILD,

is a thought

That

Becomes a feeling

Trying me on for size

Shooting down,

Filling my body.

Becoming aware.

Learning fine motor skills,

Some poise,

To control

The face,

The legs,

The arm muscles.

While he haughtily BOOMS and hurls out a sentence of,

“WICKED!”

“WILLFUL!”

“IN COMMUNION WITH THE SPIRIT OF JEZEBEL!”

This one, in particular, would always stir a twitch

On the corner of my mouth.

I would then refocus and purse my lips.

Not to keep myself from arguing,

Or fighting back a choked sob,

It was to choke back a smile

Because…

I had a secret

I Had A Weapon

I Had An Arsenal

I HAD A SECRET WEAPON ARSENAL

I…

Had a different god

I had many gods

And they were lined up, spines straight, like soldiers on the shelves,

just waiting for me to enlist them into action

Byron, Keats, Whitman, Alcott, Bronte, R.L.Stine, Plath, Poe

They were countless

They were limitless

They were growing in number every day

I worshiped them, shamelessly, in public, at the library.

I won summer reading competitions.

I roamed(in bare feet) through the labyrinth of shelves searching for books that were forgotten.

I would open them, I would inspect them delicately, the card placed inside the cover.

When was the last time you were checked out?

A month?

A Year?

FIVE?

I scoured them for dog ears and doodles.

Highlights and underlines.

Seeing what someone else loved.

Seeing what I loved.

Seeing if someone else could ever love me.

Robert comes back, with our last responsibility checked off the list,

And we whisk ourselves off to get day drunk.

Taking advantage of our last few days of freedom.

Before the grandparents bring him(Henri)

Back to us,

And he’s ours for(n)ever

My Henri

I take in the smell.

I walk languidly to the door

Because

I’m homeless

And I’ve missed home

Then

There is a thought.

...germinating…

That becomes a feeling

Leaving

brain,

and sending a jolt of giddiness thought my body

Like a prophecy

Like a promise

Someday,

I will take him(Henri)

To the library.

Someday I will tell him about a place where every single possibility exists

And if it doesn’t

Well then we will write it

and

We Will Become Our Own Gods!

And we will stand.

Upright.

Spines straight

Like soldiers

Waiting

For those that come

Seeking

Truth, poetry, mystery, adventures, trials, friendship, kinship, laughter, crying and straight boredom

And we will tell them our story

And they will tell us their story

Together we will tell the world our story

And then…

when death comes we won’t be afraid

Because by then...

Well, by then we’ll

IMMORTAL

#poetry #poem #prose #hsp #enneagram 4w5 #prose poem #original poem #poet #writer #wordart #spilled words #4w5

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spirit-of-the-void · 5 years

Text

Ebony and Ivory (V x Reader Fanfic) Chapter 40

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

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

Chapter 40

Epilogue

(Several Months later)

You never wanted to get up from your bed.

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

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

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

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

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

Something about it was...very cute.

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

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

Regardless.

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

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

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

So much has happened.

So many terrible, wonderful things.

Only this time around, everything is perfect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh dear. You could come undone at this rate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which is exactly what he did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So smug, so cocky.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even if you betrayed me again.

Even if things fall to pieces.

You are the reason I breathe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Of course he would think that. You giggled lightly, turning around to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Depends on how quickly you get those clothes in the washer, slim,” You breathed, pinching his cheek with gentle fingers, “And only if you promise to be on your best behavior.”

V’s returning smirk was downright evil, jade eyes meeting yours as he stroked his fingers over you chin.

“Oh darling...you and I both know I am a gentleman before anything else.”

(Nero POV)

Nero had never been so glad to get out of a meeting early.

He and Nico were already driving back through the streets of Fortuna, heading for Madame Elenor’s considering they were able to head home earlier than expected. Honestly, why had they bothered coming by in the first place? The maps could have been sent via photo or email, but Dante and Vergil didn’t seem to have a god damn brain cell between them. His uncle in particular had a cell phone and an ancient computer, but only used the phone to play a really shitty version of tetris. As for his father...well. Spending so long in hell and other places had left him a bit out of tune with technology.

Regardless, they had gotten the needed information on the coming mission and swung back to catch the earliest ferry home. Dante and Vergil had been arguing about flowers of all things as Nero left, which Nico had agreed was incredibly strange. Neither of the two had any idea why the older men had flaked on what would be a friendly lunch in Fortuna, but whatever it was had them in...a bit of a mood. Nero wanted no part of it, and had practically dragged Nico out the door once the bare minimum amount of information had been met. Location? Check. Client? Check. Demon types they would be facing? You bet your ass that was another check on the list. And from there he would leave the planning to Dante and Vergil before they actually set out.

For now, he would stop by the shop and see how the kids were doing in their crafting efforts. Then the whole group could walk to whatever restaurant they decided on, maybe settle the day off with some time swimming on the beach or a bonfire. After the past week of work and demon hunting, some relaxation wouldn’t hurt anybody--hell, even Nico seemed excited at the prospect of having some free time to sunbathe, claiming she needed to work on her tan and rest her weary fingers. Nero wanted nothing more than to have some time with his wife, seeing her beautiful hair glow in the sun and a bathing suit…

He flustered himself a bit. She was so lovely it made him crazy.

“Jeez, it’s so obvious when you’re thinking about Kyrie,” Nico’s loud complaint made him jolt, looking over from the passenger side of the van to see her shutting off the engine and smirking mischievously, “You always get the goofiest, dopey smile on your face.”

He tried to scoff and play it off as nonchalantly as possible, but it was hard when his cheeks and ears were still tinged pink. Plus he doubted there was getting past Nico’s eagle eyes no matter how hard he tried.

“Lay off, Nico,” He huffed, scratching the back of his head and ignoring her chortles as he hopped out of the van, “So I love my wife--sue me.”

“You sure fuckin’ do, psycho,” Nico snickered, whapping him a little too hard on the back. Meanwhile, her other hand pocketed the keys to her van in those usual shorts she wore, “Just make sure to put on sunscreen today--Kyrie ain’t gonna fuck a tomato and I can’t see your sorry ass blush when you’re burnt like a marshmallow.”

She was certainly relentless in the insults today. Nero tried not to get more flustered, instead rolling his eyes in response to her taunts and pulling open the door to the Madame’s shop. The front windows were lined with costumes and small set pieces, a little bell jingling above them to sound of their arrival. It would seem Eleanor closed her shop early to make time for the kids, a “closed” sign hanging in plain view. But the door had been left unlocked for them, so Nero and Nico started making their way past the lines of costumes to the back area where they knew the kids would be hard at work.

“Madame…! How does it look?”

“Kyrie, I can’t find the pink paint!”

“I have the paint, sweetie--you’re painting trees right now, you need green.”

The children’s excited voices clamored within earshot, making Nero smile and press through the doorway. They were met with a medium sized room with sewing materials, an open archway leading to an open courtyard lined with cut out prop pieces being painted by the group of eager kids. The ones from their orphanage were here, mingling with some kids Nero only vaguely recognized from seeing them occasionally around the city. It was nice--seeing the young ones they cared about spending some time with others their age was a nice change of pace. Nero was also surprised to see you and V here earlier than them--this was one of the few days no one would be home all morning without interruption, so the fact that you were already present was unexpected. You were cross-legged on the floor, helping Emma with her brushstrokes and smiling cheerfully.

Even more surprising was V, hoisting a child up on his shoulders so they could reach the very top of a tree with green paint. He wore an apron over his black button up shirt and grey slacks, but it didn’t save his face from being smeared with some color. The poet didn’t seem to mind, nodding along to whatever the boy was saying and calmly replying to his questions with a small smile. As for Kyrie, she was on her knees beside Julio and Carlo, tracing a template for them to paint on and showing them the proper way to mix colors for what they needed. And boy if Nero wasn’t so smitten, seeing her hair pulled into a messy bun, hands stained with the colors of a rainbow and eyes filled with love and adoration for the kids.

God damn he was so lucky.

Nico rolled her eyes at the dopey look on his face, brushing past him just as Madame Elenor stood from her corner with the other kids, walking over with a limp in her step and wiping paint on the apron she also wore. The children from the orphanage waved and yelled in excitement when they saw Nero and the mechanic, but were so focused on their tasks that they didn’t get up. Which was for the best--they were covered in paint all over their little hands, and he would rather not clean purple and green out of his good clothes. Instead, the white haired boy smiled at his wife, turning away from her gaze to greet the woman helping the kids with this project.

“Nero, so glad you could join us,” The Elderly woman greeted him with a warm smile, wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth as she grasped his hands, “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

The Madame had always been an incredibly kind woman. Getting up there in years, old age starting to slow her down a bit but not stopping the creativity and hard work. Nero could respect that.

He smiled lightly in response, wincing a bit at the sight of paint now on his fingers once she pulled away. Figures, “Thanks for helpin’ out with the kiddos, they’re having a good time,” Laughter punctuated his words, making the two look up and see Julio and Carlo giggling as they smeared paint on their faces. Kyrie chasing after with a handkerchief, of course, “The play too. Can’t remember the last time the theater set up anything worth doing.”

The elderly woman snorted, rolling her eyes as she settled on a nearby workbench to rest her weary legs, “Certainly. Making costumes for period dramas grew very tiresome--it’s a lot more energetic to work with the younglings.”

That was definitely an understatement. The devil hunter doubted the old woman had this much excitement in a while. But she seemed pleased about all of the activities going on, pale blue eyes tired but happy as she watched the kids make quick work of another prop, setting it up to dry in the wind and sun. Kyrie helped steady a little girl’s brushstrokes, the light making her hair glow a beautiful shade of auburn as she asked you a question. And that was a nice change of pace too--seeing you in such high spirits, smile no longer tampered by grief or pain and glowing bright as well. You seemed to be in your element among the kids, patient and kind enough to answer all their questions and help when needed. Very similar to his wife in a lot of ways--she had been a very good teacher, after all.

Nero let out a low sigh, leaning against the doorway and folding his arms as he watched the peaceful scene continue. Madame Elenor followed his stare, an amused grin tilting her lips as he kept a watchful gaze on his wife and family. The adoration and devotion was very apparent.

“I’m glad to see you’re finally settling down,” The woman commented, drawing Nero’s attention away briefly and meeting his gaze, “You were such a rebellious teenager--Kyrie is very good for you, such a kind and peaceful woman...her mother was the same way.”

She was one of the few people that didn’t tell Nero that Kyrie was too good for him, something he appreciated. As for her mother...he remembered her kindness too, and it was not lost on him.

So he let out a slow breath, smiling ruefully and scratching the back of his head, “I’m a lucky guy, there’s no mistake there...I don’t know what I would do without her.” She really was something special, carrying so much love and kindness in her body he sometimes wondered if there was any room for hate or animosity. Even when things upset her, she bounced back so fast he often wondered if she hid things away as to not burden others. But there was always communication, always talking with him and explaining how she felt about certain things.

There was always trust, and he needed that more than anything.

Elenor let out a pleased hum at his response, nodding a few times and pushing her glasses up a bit. Those pale blue eyes scanned the courtyard, watching as you and V started helping pull a tarp over one of the dried prop pieces, kids standing all around to aid. Nero wasn’t watching her expression then, more focused on making sure none of the kids were doing anything to hurt themselves or spilling any paint on their clothes. The children from the orphanage still had to go out to lunch after this, but the other kids would be picked up by parents and family members. So focused as he was, he didn’t notice the curious look on the Madame’s face, the searching one as she kept her eyes on you. Observing as you laughed, picking up one of the kids and pressing a kiss to their cheek.

So that’s why it surprised him when the elderly woman spoke again, her voice low and thoughtful as she murmured, “Your other friend is like her mother too.”

That certainly made Nero blink. He turned, staring at the Madame in confusion and seeing a faraway look in her eyes, one of remembrance and wistfulness. What the hell was she talking about? There was no way she could have known your mother, right?

“What do you mean…?” Nero asked slowly, brow furrowed as the Madame turned to meet his perplexed gaze.

She pursed her lips, head tilted in your direction as another prop was covered slowly and carefully, “I never forget a face, you know that,” The elder locked her eyes on you again, frowning now as she watched the children interact and clamor in excitement, “Even one I’ve seen a long time ago--I can remember the faces of Kyrie’s parents perfectly, and I remember another face too. A woman used to come into my shop years ago, a year before you were even at the orphanage I think...she looked just like Y/N, spitting image.”

...What?

Nero stared in blank shock, brain not sure what to do with the information and halting like the screeching of tires. Someone who was the spitting image of you in this city, before he was even born? But...how was that possible? Surely not, there was no way you would have a parent in Fortuna, that was very clear after all the information they learned about your past. Even while not knowing anything about your family, you were firm in the fact that it was a different dimension entirely. Wisps of memories, small feelings and Foresight told the truth in your statements--not to mention the fact that the Outsider changed your appearance after your first death to distance you from the life you lead. A fresh start, an entirely new you--even your name had been picked by him. From what you could gather, your parents lived in a small town anyway, not a city. So...how?

How could someone be here that looked just like you? Maybe the elder had finally gone senile, maybe it was just a simple mistake? But...practically everyone in Fortuna knew of her memory. Hell, the old woman could recall days from his childhood that blurred even for Kyrie and himself. Faces, names, events...Old age never soured her mind, not for a second. Conviction was in her tone, eyes firm and certain as she stared at you, like seeing a memory from long...long ago.

But...that couldn’t be right.

This didn’t make sense.

You said you’d never been to Fortuna before, this dimension before.

So...why?

Nero’s tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth, heartbeat starting to pick up while his head tried to piece things together, bit by bit. You were prone to having your memory erased, right? So...maybe you had been to this place before, without even realizing it? It was possible, especially with how unpredictable the Outsider was. But...didn’t the God only erase your memories with trauma? And what could he have sent you to do in Fortuna at the time? The Order of the Sword hadn’t been affected, and no big events had gone on until they were taken down. Not unless there was an event you did manage to prevent, one he didn’t know about.

The devil hunter couldn’t find it in himself to reply, even as the Madame continued on wistfully in her story. And as the words continued to flow, his trepidation grew in spades, like icy fingers tapping their way along his spine.

“Timid little thing, she came in a few times to help me with odd jobs in return for coin and food,” The Madame sighed, closing her tired eyes and pausing briefly as she remembered the past, “She started coming by less and less, spending time with a tall, cloaked sword-wielding man walking the streets. An outsider like herself, I think. And then...well, I stopped seeing her at all. I got worried for a little while that something had happened to her after rumors circled the town but…”

The Madame shrugged, smile returning as she watched you hug Kyrie around the waist and giggle about whatever joke was said, “Her daughter is alive and well, a very kind person. If she turned out this way, I have no doubt that her mother ended up safe as well--I imagine the cloaked man she was with must have got her off the island before the Order fell...I just wished she would stop by and say hello before then.”

A...cloaked man?

Rumors?

The woman slowly rose to her feet, wincing when her bones creaked and ached in protest, “I’ll have to ask your friend about her parents another day, when things aren’t quite so busy. It’s strange...she shares the same name as her mother too, which is a bit...odd. But she’s far too young to be the same woman.”

She didn’t notice Nero’s frozen expression, especially not when a couple kids ran up to her and loudly asked for help with a prop. Walking away before any more questions could be asked, things seeming to pass in slow motion for a brief second. He wasn’t able to move, watching numbly as she was pulled away by tiny hands, chuckling lightly at their enthusiasm. Things seemed so normal in comparison to the new truth laid at his feet--the kids didn’t notice Nero leaning against the doorway, a hand on his mouth and posture frozen in place. Nor did you, V, or Kyrie. All so focused on the task at hand, while he was left wondering just what the fuck was going on.

The elderly woman’s words had...struck a heavy chord of unease, one that gripped him in its tight vise and refused to let go no matter how hard Nero tried.

His mind was working overtime, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on with so little information in front of him. Same name, same face...that had to be you, right? What the hell happened to you in Fortuna all those years ago, if he was to believe what Elenor claimed to be true? If you could travel from dimension to dimension, what was stopping the chance of going to a certain place twice? It was completely probable that Fortuna could have been one of your mission places, but...maybe you had failed? Something traumatic must have happened, and you had each memory erased. The Order of the Sword could have been a big target, but…

But.

The timing of it...was far too uncomfortable for Nero’s liking.

A lot of these things were.

Nero’s brain was connecting things he absolutely should not be trying to connect--but it wouldn’t stop, it refused to. Not with this new information, not with things he had felt on the edge of his consciousness for a long...long time.

He had heard rumors too...hadn’t he? When trying to figure out the identity of his parents as a teenager, asking anyone who would listen if they could remember anyone dropping a baby off at the orphanage. Claims ranging from it maybe being a teenage mother who made a mistake, him being a cursed twin left by a frightened family. Ect, ect. But...those all came up empty. And besides, he had demonic blood in his veins, so anything stating he came from normal humans was implausible anyway. No, he only took to heart things that could actually depict something other than human.

And a couple tales came to mind. Not ones he heard while searching out his parents, but rather things heard in passing. Demon attacks were a common thing in the city until the Order fell, but people who actually held their own against the creatures outside of said Order were...rare. Nero remembered tales of an inhuman man in a cloak who once traveled the city streets for a short time, witnesses seeing him take out demons with speed and precision no mere mortal could have. As a teenager, it had all seemed so silly--why should he think that this man had to be his father, especially with nothing to go on? This apparent stranger came and went in a matter of a couple months, leaving no trace behind.

In retrospect...that did sound like Vergil, a lot like Vergil. Tall, cloaked, deadly and precise. Wielding a sword, obviously. But...Nero hadn’t put much thought into the stranger’s companion this late in his life, not when he was still trying to grasp the fact that he had a father in the first fucking place.

Less was known about her--a lady in red, according to a few passing voices that could barely recall the tales. After all, why did such things matter years later? Those people were gone, but some fleeting memories remained. Coming and going from Fortuna was incredibly rare, outsiders stuck out like a sore thumb and were generally met with wariness and fear back then. Some rumors claimed she was human, but a few more...a few more mentioned powers too, didn’t they? He had waved those away--he was mostly human, right? Mostly human meant only partial demon, the woman had to be human.

Had to be.

Right?

But…

The timeline...the timeline. It fit, didn’t it? This woman who looked like you was in Fortuna before he was in the Orphanage, a year before. Around the time Vergil was in Fortuna, a tall, cloaked man with a sword. There was no fucking way that could be anyone else, right? You already stated your age was a question mark after traveling for the Outsider for so long, and visiting to the same dimension twice without remembering it was...plausible. If something trauma based had happened to you in Fortuna...it would explain why you disappeared without warning, especially when he considered the fact that you had not been with his father when all the conflict between him and Dante had occurred. At least...that’s what he assumed.

Vergil would have remembered your face, though, wouldn’t he? But...his father claimed to have lost memories after a particularly bad run in with Mundus, avoiding the topic like the plague and growing agitated whenever Nero brought it up. So the younger Sparda learned to stop asking about it, not wanting to fuck things up when the once-surly male was clearly trying his best. Although that was what he claimed, Nero had always felt there might have been more knowldge to find, especially with the mentioned trials.

Thinking back on it...Nero’s foreboding grew in spades, leaps, and bounds.

You had eventually spoken of what happened in the Void, Vergil forced to go through three trials in punishment for his actions. The first was reliving the trauma of his mother’s death, the second seeing what happened with Mundus and becoming Nelo Angelo. And the third...well, your memory went blank at the third, fairly certain that the Outsider took your memory of it, but not knowing why. It was of little consequence at the time--you were just happy to have V back, and didn’t put any thought into it.

Nero had asked his father in passing about it, and V too since they seemed to share memories. Both clammed up at the third trial, Vergil stating curtly that it was a part of his past he’d rather not repeat aloud or bring into light, and V...well, V replied that Vergil’s memories weren’t his to share, nor were his traumas or mistakes. And it ended with that, Nero shrugging it off just as easily now that things had seemingly grown so calm.

But now...less calm. There was a reason your memory of the third trial had been removed, especially if that reason was…

That’s not possible.

Nero turned, stalking back into the shop before anyone could notice the growing look of panic and confusion on his face. Both hands ran through his hair, heart pounding in his ears as he walked out to the van and leaned against its metal form, trying to talk out of his own reasoning and just carrying the disbelief and fear in circles. Not many people were on this street so early in the day, more than likely on the square or on the beach so there would be no one to see him trying to collect himself.

Vergil wasn’t the type to screw around with multiple women, that was obvious. But he was the type to reluctantly start traveling with one, maybe get too close. If something bad happened, if you had died...there would be no memory, no trace, no knowing him. Maybe no knowledge of having a...

There is no fucking way.

Nero felt his blood run cold, brain scrambling with this knowledge and sending off several warning bells that made him feel sick to his stomach. There was no way, right? This was stupid, foolish, idiotic--his head was just doing things it shouldn’t connecting dots that weren’t there.

As hard as he tried to tell himself that...the seed of doubt had been planted, and it was flourishing. He couldn’t even form the proper words or coherent thoughts, unable to even comprehend it. His friend, his best friend...the same one he had laughed with at home, messing up your hair, calling each other “jackass” at any given moment, flinging food at the dinner table. The one who he watched fall apart in the Qliphoth, who he had carried home and helped build back up for so long. There was no way that you could be his...no. That wasn’t possible, and as much as he wanted to ask…

He couldn’t, could he?

Memories of trauma were taken for a reason. According to you, the Outsider only took things that were too overwhelming for you to handle. Things that could break you, weights to heavy to bare. If he asked you about it, made you remember something on accident…That wasn’t a risk that could be taken. But there were other ways to find out, right? Maybe that would be best, a simple DNA test without your knowledge could easily show him that this theory was foolish and contrived, take the burden off his shoulders and allow things to continue in peace as they were.

But...what if it only proved the truth? Would he be able to keep treating you like a friend as before, would he even be able to look at you the same way?

He couldn’t live with this ignorance...somehow, not knowing seemed worse.

I need to know. I need to be sure.

Even if it changes things...I spent so long not knowing.

Now that the thought is there...I need to do something or else it’ll get worse.

And even if he did find out it was true, what did he have to change? His mind was starting to calm, looking for reason and stability anywhere he could find it. You were his best friend, incredibly kind and caring to everyone around--even in the Qliphoth, making sure people were eating, encouraging him when it seemed like no one else would. If the truth came to light that after all this time, after all the wondering, hate, and resentment that maybe he wasn’t an unwanted child...It was startling, it went against everything he taught himself. If you had died, if you didn’t remember anything...it was very possible that he had been loved, right? You definitely weren’t the type to just throw away your flesh and blood, there was so much love in your heart, like Kyrie. But...it made sense if things happened outside of your control, a tragedy.

If he found out that...you were his mother, after all this time...then wouldn’t that be a relief? To know his mother was just a timid, lost girl under the guidance of a distrustful God, one who went through something terrible and wasn’t able to keep him--compared to all the ideas of him being abandoned for being partially demon, of his mother not wanting him, this was a blessing in comparison. And he could hold his tongue, bottle it all in even if he knew the truth. Because at the end of the day, you had always been family, his friend...All he wanted was the truth, and if he could get it then that would be enough.

I was wrapped in a cloth when Kyrie’s mother found me on the doorstep, dry despite the rain. The cloth was stained in blood, like whoever gave birth had me and dropped me off not long after.

Nero made up his mind, resolve snapping in place like steel chords inside and binding every decision in place. By the time Kyrie emerged with the kids an hour later, he had a casual smile on his face again, all the traces of panic and confusion tampered down even when you emerged with an arm locked around V. Smiling, happy, greeting him with a nudge of your elbow and a teasing comment about Vergil and Dante giving him a hard time. No one would notice anything was amiss with him, at least...that’s what he hoped.

“...Nero?”

The white-haired boy paused, lagging behind the group a bit as they started walking toward the square. You and Nico holding the kids hands, Kyrie pulling Nero’s arm with her gentle fingers and staring at him in worry.

But all he could muster was a small smile, leaning down to kiss the top of her head while pulling her along toward the others.

“Later, I promise.”

Kyrie’s eyes missed nothing, but this wasn’t something he could talk with her about, not yet at least. He needed to be certain, things needed to be proven and solid first. If the white-haired boy discovered that his theories were wrong and just his brain foolishly searching for what wasn’t there...well, he would tell his wife and have a little laugh, and maybe wonder about what happened to you in Fortuna all those years ago. She only nodded at his words, still seeming concerned but lacing her fingers with his as they caught up to the group just as they were deciding on the restaurant. You briefly looked at him, as if sensing his off mood yourself, but...knew not to say anything.

If it was the truth...Nero would tell Kyrie, warn her not to bring it up to you. And then he would ask Vergil about it, proof in hand and get the story from his mouth. Because there was no doubt that he and V both knew something that they weren’t telling.

Nero would be able to keep his cool through lunch, through everything. Arguing with Nico, talking with the kids, watching you laugh with Kyrie and the others while one hand grasped V’s tightly. There was truth to be had, but at the end of the day you would always be his family and friend above all other things. And that came first, your well-being always came first.

Some things were more important.

If he discovered you were this woman in red, his mother...then he would get the story from Vergil and be done with it. Just being able to know both parents was something Nero thought he’d never have, and to know his mother was someone kind and sweet in comparison to Vergil? Well...he could live with that, could go on being your friend without changing a damn thing if it meant saving you from trauma. Life would go on as always, but he would just have one less mystery hanging over his head.

There was definitely a truth to be had. But at the end of the day...family was family. And he was willing to do whatever it would take to defend it.

“Hey Nero?”

The boy looked up as he walked alongside his wife and the children, seeing you looking at him with mischief in your expression. The afternoon light making your hair glow, one arm locked with V’s as he chuckled at whatever you had cooking up.

Nero swallowed down the hesitation and uncertainty, replying easily enough, “Yeah?”

You grinned, jabbing him in the side once with a hint of challenge in your tone, one he easily caught onto, “When we get back, we should spar on the beach. You, me, and some good old-fashioned water guns.”

What was that in your expression? A hint of concern, worry for him that you were trying to mask with playfulness. She’s worried, and trying to cheer me up--Nero clicked that in place right away, knowing damn well that sparring was one of his ways to blow off steam. Of course you caught onto his unease as well, just as observant as Kyrie. He felt his wife squeeze his hand too, punctuating the offer with support of her own.

And it was in that moment, Nero realizing how very blessed he was. To have people who cared and loved him that much, to have a chance of discovering his mother was something like you, someone already close to him. It made him smirk a bit, picking up Carlo from where he walked with the other kids and letting the boy hug him around the neck.

“You’re on,” He replied with a low smirk, eyeing V at your side and adding cockily, “Bet I could take you and Shakespeare on at once.”

V rose a simple brow at that, lips quirking up in a smile as he replied with a low chuckle, “You can certainly try.”

The kids all chattered in excitement, wanting in on the battle and eager at the prospect of playing with super soakers. Nico seemed to want in on it too, pinching one of Nero’s cheeks and claiming she would ally herself with him in this so called “battle”. Nero was willing to bet there would be treachery afoot, but Kyrie would always be there to back him up in the long run.

They all would. And when the truth eventually came...that would always remain the same.

~The End~

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Tagged: @nightshadow4713 @slightlylunatic @silentwhispofhope @just-call-me-no-name @efiicitia @raven-huntress @shaelin444

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jazzman-19-blog · 5 years

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Crazy Little Thing Called Life

A/N: ok but that gif tho, i am always down for soft Ben moments. And that’s exactly what you got in this chapter. This is the longest chapter yet I believe?? I don’t know but I hope you guys enjoy it! There is some of Ben’s POV in here for like a paragraph. Byeeee :]

~with lots of love, Jazzman~

Summary: A road trip/vacation between two old friends that turns into something more(basic plot but whateva)

Song: A Sky Full Of Stars by Coldplay

Pairing: Ben x reader

Word Count: 2247

Warnings: Fluff? maybe? yeah, fluff ;], language

If you would like to be added to the taglist, just ask!

*Reblogs/asks/opinions are always appreciated*

Ch. 3: Eyes Like The Stars

——————–

The next couple days in Yuma were really fun. The first day you stopped by your grandma’s house and she was thrilled to see you but mostly towards Ben. He was like the grandson she never had. Literally. All of her children only had girls which meant she only ever had granddaughters. But Ben was close with your grandma and loved that woman to death. They probably had secrets they shared that you didn’t know about. You both hanged at her house all day. You guys made coffee, played Loteria, and even decided to stay for dinner since she begged for you to. Even though you weren’t planning on leaving anyways. You were there all day and talked about how everybody’s been and how your family was in Yuma.

It was starting to get late and you wanted to head over to your hotel before it got too dark. But before you and Ben started to head out, your grandma gave you guys a blanket each that she made for the two of you. Your blanket was a beautiful turquoise color with black cursive writing that said:

“There is only one happiness in life- to love and to be loved”

You were holding onto that blanket like there was no tomorrow. Your eyes started to swell with tears of joy. Your grandma always knew you had a passion for poetry, so she made you a blanket with your favorite colors and your favorite quote. That woman was going to be the death of you. You walked over to her and gave her the biggest hug you have ever given to anybody. You didn’t know what you would have done without her. You pulled back and wiped away your tears, even your grandma was crying at this point. But they were all tears of joy and happiness. As you all said your final goodbyes, you walked over and climbed into the passenger seat. The blanket sat on your lap as you made your way back to the hotel. You wanted to see Ben’s but he wouldn’t let you. All you knew was that it was black with bold, yellow writing.

The last day in Yuma was spent looking around the place. You and Ben had decided to stop by Lutes Casino to eat, weirdly for its name, it’s not actually a casino. You also stopped by the infamous Yuma Territorial Prison. It gave you creepy vibes so you wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. Ben on the other hand quite liked it, he liked spooky things. You stopped by the Ocean to Ocean bridge while you guys were at the prison. It was one of the first highway crossing of the lower Colorado river.

Yuma always amazes you with all of its history and interesting places to go and explore. People back home always talked about how there was nothing to do in Yuma but that wasn’t true. You loved the place and you had always visited with your family. Sometimes Ben would tag along, he knew this place like the back of his hand. He had a great memory unlike you, who always forgets everything.

Tomorrow, you and Ben had to start heading for San Diego except this time you made Ben drive. Of course if he got tired, you would step in and take the wheel. Right now though, you and Ben wanted to go and watch the stars. You both brought a blanket to lay on the ground, you had decided to go to Joe Henry Memorial Park. Luckily, it had an open grass area so you could see the night sky. It was around nine when you had got there and the stars were already out. Ben had found the perfect spot and set the blanket down. You also thought it was a good idea to bring pillows for comfort. Ben thought it was ridiculous but you brought him one anyways. He ended up using it too.

Now you and Ben were just laying there watching the night sky go by. It was relaxing to say the least. Even though the mystical night sky was mesmerizing and beautiful, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of the person next to you. Your best friend. The person you’ve known forever. He was absolutely gorgeous in the moonlight. Even in a sky full of stars, you found yourself only paying attention to him. His face just absolutely glowed and his hair, his perfect fucking hair, falling in all the right places. How did you just notice this about him? How perfect he was. Straightest jawline you’ve ever seen and perfect, oh so perfect, lips.

You shook your head and turned back to the night sky. You didn’t love Ben for his looks like the other high school girls, you loved him for his wonderful personality. Your inner thoughts were screaming at you. You couldn’t be falling for your best friend now. You just couldn’t, you didn’t want to break that close bond you both had. It would break you. Shatter your heart into a million pieces from losing your best friend. But you wanted to give him all of your heart and you didn’t care if he teared you apart. Because you would love him anyways no matter what. You kept your feelings for him hidden, locked away, never to be seen again. At least until now. You hadn’t notice your heart was racing until Ben tapped you on your shoulder.

“Hey? Y/n? Love? You alright? I can hear your heart racing from here.” Ben sat up to make sure you were still conscious.

“Yeah I’m fine.” You said still looking at the sky.

“Is something wrong? We can go back to-” You cut him off.

“Yes Ben, everything’s okay,” You look up at him this time. Fuck. Those damn green eyes always killed you. “I just want a hug.” you blurt out.

“Okay, could’ve just asked in the first place.” Ben said as he smiled at you. He laid down next to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You turned onto your side to face him and buried your face into his warm chest while you rested your hands on his chest too. How was he so warm when you were absolutely freezing.

“Better?”

“Much better…” You whispered. Were you happy now even though you both have snuggled like this before? Absolutely. Were you ever going to let go? Hopefully not because you didn’t want to let go. You wanted to stay like this forever.

Sadly, you knew that it was getting late and you both had to be up and ready to go at noon. You looked up at Ben and could tell his eyes were drooping ever so slightly.

“Ben, come on, it’s late and we need to get back to the hotel.” You slipped one of your hands off his chest and started to slightly shake him. Ben grabbed onto your waist tighter than before and pulled you closer.

“Do we have to go? We can just lay here all night.” You liked the idea but you knew you were going to regret it in the morning. You slipped out of Ben’s grasp on your waist and sat up. Ben had mumbled something but you couldn’t hear him. This time you shook him violently.

“Ben! Come on! We have to be up early in the morning,” He still didn’t budge. Instead he just rolled onto his other side with his back towards you. You stood up and sighed. You didn’t know what to do to get him up. “Benjamin Jones! Get up!”

“Fineeeeee.” He sat up and rubbed his eyes while groaning. You grabbed the two pillows and headed for the car. You grabbed the keys out of your back pocket and unlocked it before jumping into the driver’s seat and throwing the pillows in the back. You knew Ben wouldn’t be able to drive right now. You started the car and jumped back out to see where Ben was. He was nowhere to be found. You started to panic and kept calling out his name like he was a lost dog. But it was no use, you couldn’t find him. The blanket is gone too. You run back over to the car and headed to the back to get a flashlight. But before you do, Ben jumps from behind the SUV and nearly scares you to death.

“BEN!” You fall to your knees on the hard pavement and put your face in your hands while Ben is laughing. At least until he realizes your on the ground.

“Wait-” Ben crouches down to your level. “I didn’t mean to scare you that bad, I’m sorry”

You don’t say anything. Ben is getting really worried that he scared you too much. But as you take your hands off of your face and look back up at him, he realizes that your not upset, your giggling. Which turned into full on laughter. Ben gets up.

“Christ, Y/n! I thought I made you upset and you started crying!” Ben held out a hand for you to help you up. You grabbed it and pulled yourself up. You couldn’t stop laughing to speak so Ben just pushed you back into the direction of the driver’s seat. You climbed in as he got on the other side. You had stopped laughing at this point and your breathing had slowed down. Ben just sat there waiting for you to go.

“So,” Ben looked over at you as you gripped onto the steering wheel and started to drive back to the hotel. “Did you hear what I mumbled back there?” You looked over at him.

“No. Was it important?” He had decided to look in the other direction towards the window.

“No, it wasn’t. Just wondering was all.” And with that you both headed back to the hotel. Ben didn’t think it was important to you at least. But to him, it was a whole other story. He couldn’t believe the fact that he actually told you that he loved you. Even though you didn’t hear, he felt like you did. Thoughts kept racing through his head. What if you did hear but didn’t want to say anything so the topic wouldn’t have been brought up? What if you didn’t feel the same way? It was all just one-sided? It scared him to think of losing his best friend to his emotions. He didn’t want to lose you so he held it in these last few years. He didn’t know how to tell you or when. All he knew was that he loved you and couldn’t stand to see you with someone else. In high school, when you had break-ups, he would help you get through it but he was so happy you weren’t with them anymore. He thought maybe you could be his someday. That day never came though. At least not yet. When you asked him for a hug, he felt his heart explode. He instantly snuggled with you and didn’t want to let go. Earlier when you looked up at the sky, he could see how the moonlight made your eyes sparkle. You had eyes that shined like the stars above. How beautiful you looked just laying there, such a heavenly view. All he wanted to do was hold you in his arms and you let him. But sadly, it ended too quickly and now both of you were driving back to the hotel before heading off to Cali.

You both ended up safely back in the hotel room. You plopped on your bed, tired from all of the fun you had all day. You grabbed your clothes and changed in the bathroom. When you came out, Ben had already changed into some shorts and no shirt. God, he looked like he was sculpted by the Gods. He was in great shape from playing soccer so much. But that’s how he got his scholarship, all through soccer. You threw your clothes in the pile and crawled onto your bed, making sure your butt stuck out a bit for Ben to see. But too bad he had already went into the bathroom.

When he came out, you were snuggled in your blankets. For some reason, you were absolutely freezing. And Ben could tell.

“You alright Love?” Fuck. His accent made your stomach do somersault. He learned his accent from being around his parents so much. Of course you though, didn’t have an accent like your mom. You were more like your dad in every shape and form and were used to speaking without an accent.

“I’m okay, just freezing to death.” After you had said that you flipped onto your other side to face the wall. But before you knew it, Ben had slipped into your bed and wrapped his arm around your waist once more. At first you were tense, you didn’t expect Ben to crawl next to you but you weren’t complaining. You relaxed more as you got warmer from his touch. It made your heart fly. You slept together for the rest of the night. You could feel him breathing down your neck and you loved it.

Throughout the night, the space between the two of you got smaller and smaller until your back was right against his stomach. He made you so warm, inside and out. God, you loved this man, if only he knew how much.

———————–

Taglist:

@luvborhap

#ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x y/n #ben hardy x female reader #borhap #queen #fanfic #cltcl #ben hardy fluff #crazy little thing called life

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heyrosiebee · 6 years

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Sleepy Spells

a.k.a. some stuff i’m trying to help myself sleep.

The Classic No Gadget Zone. when i get anxiety attacks when trying to sleep, i instantly reach for my phone like a baby crying for a teether. it does help ease the panic, but i get so distracted and scared of being alone in my head again that i end up staying awake until 4 AM. so electronics are out at 10:30, and should not be brought to bed.

Love Letters To Myself. since a huge part of the problem is being attacked by so many negative and panicky thoughts at night, i’m planning to make a zine of kind words (both from myself and from other people. add quotes in, maybe) that i can just flip through on bad nights to remind myself of good things.

The Almost Mythical Activity, Exercise. they say it helps you release energy so you don't have it with you at night when your brain is telling you to do general cleaning at 2 AM, so i'm all for it. i (aim to) stretch everyday bc my scoliosis demands it, but in addition, i want to run up and down the stairs or learn to do push-ups.

Slumber Scents. lavender pillow mist. mint incense sticks. sandalwood reed diffusers.. i'm gonna DIY my way through insomnia. solid plan.

Sleepy Pills. my therapist referred Quetiapine to me. just a small dosage, but it makes waking up in the morning near impossible. if my class schedules turn out to be noon to night, i'll start taking them again.*

Night Pages. at times when i feel particularly overwhelmed, i give up and get out of bed and journal away. sometimes i also make lists of random things, jot down ideas and plans and tasks... it just helps to put everything on paper so i don't have to hold it in my head.

Mind Training. to guide my night thoughts, i plan to meditate before bed. there are so many guided meditation videos on YouTube, and with a variety of goals. the challenge, though, is finding time for it. (maybe i can do it while stretching. we'll see.)

Fresh Sheets. sometimes, i forget to change my bed sheets and i can't sleep bc i feel icky and disgusted, even though it's not really that dirty. still, i think it'll help if i change the bed sheets once a month, preferably after The Red Week™ to hit two birds with one stone.

"Weighted Blankets". i already practice this. we don't have money for such luxuries but i just use two blankets piled up. (this makes it easier to adjust during warm nights. i just have to use one of the blankets and voila.)

Late Night Poetry. i don't write at night much anymore, but i have a pen and a notebook beside my bed just in case. in addition to that, though, i have a book i don't plan to read and a pencil, so i can make some black out/erasure poetry. it's less mindful; it distracts your brain from toxic thoughts; it makes me sleepy; and i get to create something.

Skincare. mine's nothing fancy, mostly products i made from coconut oil, but as i do it after a warm bath, this always makes me feel cleaner, like i've finally left the day behind me and am already preparing for a new one. i could listen to audiobooks/podcasts/Ted talks/meditation guides at the same time.

Slumber Blends. usually, they use an apple cider concoction, but.. hell no. so i'm going with the classic warm milk and honey with mashed bananas (you guys have to try this it is so delicious.)

i'll update this with how effective they are once i've tried them out. i might add some more eventually, but feel free to do so yourself. it would be a big help for people like me.

- 🍂

p.s. i've already tried Sakura's The Sleep. it did not work.

#sleep tips #insomnia #self care #self love #new year #habit forming #studyblr #lifestyle #organization #health #health tips #mental health #studyquill #readikkulus #artemistudying #studytherin #ahrtstudy

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krazy-ky-sta-hatter · 7 years

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Which American High School Stereotype Are You?

Which American High School Stereotype Are You? (Copy, paste and bold your answers).

Outcast:

You don’t have very many friends. At times, teachers forget your name. You were always picked last for kickball. You don’t like to talk a lot. You tend to avoid mass social activities. You don’t participate in any extracurricular activities. All you wish for is to move away or get a fresh start. Your friends have blown you off before. You sit alone in most of your classes. You have a feeling that once you leave high school or college, nobody is going to remember you. You hold interest in activities that other people find strange. People don’t find you friendly. You hold extreme hate towards another high school stereotype. You eat alone at lunch.

Total = 6

Party Girl/Boy:

Let’s face it, you like to party. You party every other weekend. …Or every weekend? You’ve been going to frat house parties since early high school. You’re the defending beer bong champion. You know the best hook-ups in the state… world. Everybody who’s anybody goes to the same parties you go to. You’ve hooked up at parties. You spend time getting ready for parties. You’ve passed out from being too drunk. You’ve partied all night. You’ve snuck out of the house to party. Actually, your parents really don’t care if you party or not. You’re pretty much nocturnal. You like to go clubbing. You and your friends always party hop. You’ve crashed a party before. One way or another, you’ve wound up naked in front of everybody at a party. You’ve thrown up from drinking too much. You’ve done something that you regret at a party. You can dance. (ONLY when drunk though) You’re friends with a lot of people older than you.

Total = 7

Scene Kid:

You know what sXe and hXc actually mean. You have a obsession with dinosaurs, robots, and Pokemon. You idolize Jeffree Starr. People have called you scene before. You spend at least an hour getting ready to take pictures of yourself for your Facebook. You have a mirror pic. You listen to bands that most people have never heard of. You enjoy going to shows. You only go to shows for the sake of going to shows, not the music. Your hair is multicoloured. You accessorize your hair with kiddie barrettes and bows. Fashion is one of the most important things that define you. You mosh. You often mix vintage with modern. Your Facebook picture captions are sad lyrics to sad songs. All of your friends are scene. You don’t know many of the people on your friends list in person. You take angled pictures of yourself. You enjoy photography.

Total = 4

Prep:

You pop the collar. You won’t go near the “goths”. You own at least one thing from a designer store. You are very clean cut. You are squeamish. People have called you preppy before. You never leave the house without putting on cologne/perfume. You have a lot of money. You know who LC is. You watch shows like The OC, The Real World, The Hills, and Laguna Beach. One of your favourite stores are Abercrombie & Fitch or American Eagle Outfitters. You’re afraid to set foot into Hot Topic. You carry a purse wherever you go. You need to wake up at least an hour before school so you can get ready. You do not leave the house without make up. You are content overall with how your life is going.

Total = 3

Band Geek:

You have played an instrument before. You still play an instrument. You are/were in regular Band. You are/were in Jazz Band. You are/were in Marching Band. You’ve never dated anybody outside of band. Most of your friends are in band. The band room/band hall is your second home. You enjoy listening to Classical music on occasion. You aspire to be a Drum Major. You’ve made out with somebody on a Band bus or at a Band competition. You have trouble getting your non-band friends to go near the band room. Band is your favourite class. You have been to band camp. You walk in step with all your friends. You talk about band constantly. You know that American Pie has got it all wrong. You hate rap music. Marching Season is your favourite time of year. When you go to football games, you don’t really pay attention to the game itself. Your favourite jokes are band jokes. You know it’s not about the bloods and the crips: it’s the brass and the woodwinds.

Total = 2

Thespian:

You have been in a school play. You have seen a Broadway musical. (Bootleg) You like to act. You have participated in a school play. You have participated in a play outside of school. You have gone to the Thespian Conference. You get ticked off when people make that thespian, “Did you say lesbian?” joke. You have done tech. You know that you cannot touch anybody else’s props. You have played in the pit orchestra for a musical. You have been in a cast party. You are in a thespian troupe. You often sing show tunes at the top of your lungs. You know who Idina Menzel and Johnathan Larson are. At one point in your life, you were obsessed with RENT. You do not have a personal bubble. You actually understand Shakespeare. You know how to put on stage make up. You have been a lead. You met a lot of your better friends through theater.

Total = 18

Overachiever:

You participate in a lot of extracurricular activities. You have a part-time job. (Full now, but I did when I was at school). You have straight A’s. You are in mostly honors/IB/AP classes. You do not procrastinate. You have scored a 5 on an AP test. You do not have very much down time. You are very organized. You always have a thousand things going on at once. You are in a relationship. You aspire to get into an Ivy League School. In your extracurriculars, you hold leadership positions. You are/were on Student Council. You are/were the class president. You are/were a class officer. You are/were the Salutatorian for your class. You are/were the Valedictorian for your class. People have told you that you didn’t have a life. You are getting/have already received the IB Diploma. You cry hysterically when you get anything lower than an A on anything.

Total = 5

Slacker:

Your grades are slipping. You always wait until the last minute to do big projects. You are an overall procrastinator. You tend to do your homework when you’re watching TV. It takes you ages to turn your job applications in. You are often late to school/work. You spend the majority of your time watching TV, the computer or going on Facebook when you could be doing something more productive. You sleep in past noon on the weekends and during the summer. You do not get out of your pyjamas unless you have to leave the house. You could walk, but you’ll just drive. You have fallen asleep during class before. Friends have called you lazy before. Life is hard when you lose the remote & you have to walk a million miles over to the TV and change the channel. When you hang out with your friends, the majority of your time is spent playing video games or doing something where neither of you have to stand up. You have eaten an entire pint of ice cream in one sitting. You have sat through an entire running marathon of a show before.

Total = 8

Goth:

Your wardrobe consists of mostly black things. When you have the money, you shop at Hot Topic. You think tattoos are hot. You think odd piercings are hot. You don’t get along with your parents. You have/want to dyed/dye your hair an exotic colour. You’ve styled your hair in liberty spikes. Sometimes you ponder the meaning of life and death. You like to write dark poetry. You are into S&M. You have a pair of oversized black pants. At one point in your life, you liked Foamy, Happy Bunny, Emily the Strange, and the Happy Tree Friends. You listen to grunge. You have a messenger bag with buttons up and down the straps. You smoke cigarettes. You will only date other goths. You don’t really care what people think about you. Overly happy people scare you. You like black makeup & nail polish best.

Total = 7

Nerd:

You actually study for tests and quizzes. You have straight A’s. You haven’t had any luck with the opposite sex. You are into WoW, Magic Cards, and Halo. You over analyze jokes to the point where they aren’t funny anymore. Your mom buys your clothes for you. You actually answer the questions in class. You sit front row center in all of your classes to get the best learning experience. You miss school during the summer. You wear your pants at your waist. You prefer sweatpants to jeans. (I prefer skirts and dresses though). You have a pocket protector in your shirt with pens and a calculator in it. You let cute boys/girls take advantage of you & copy your homework in hopes of getting noticed. You’ve noticed some of the spelling and grammar mistakes in others writing. People always cheat off you during tests. Your parents pack your lunch for you every day. You wear/should be wearing glasses.

Total = 6

Garage Band Junkie:

You play the guitar. You have been in a garage band before. You’re still in a garbage band. You think your band is going to make it big someday. You play shows almost weekly. You play the drum set. You sing vocals for a band. You write your own lyrics. You spend hundreds on amps and microphones. Your band has a Facebook page. You have been in multiple garage bands. You have changed the name of your band at least twice. You have participated in a battle of the bands. Your band has been signed. You have taken guitar classes at school. You have played at the same venue multiple times. You would rather make it big than have to go to college. You have musical talent. You have groupies. You’ve made t-shirts and other apparel for your band.

Total = 5

Gangsta:

You actually are black. You know who the bloods and the crips are. You wear doo-rags. You actually grew up in the ghetto. You can freestyle. You drive down the street blaring your music. Your ride is pimped out with stereo boosts. You can break dance. You say “nigga” a lot. You talk too fast for people to understand you. You are pretty chill with life. You wear your jeans oversized and below your butt. Old school rap is the best. You know that Tupac will never die. You wear bling. You have/want a custom grill. You have custom rims on your tires. You are actually in a gang. You are always big pimpin’.

Total = 1

Emo:

You often have trouble convincing people that you aren’t emo. You comb your hair over one of your eyes. You flip your hair often. You have dark-rimmed glasses. You have hurt your self on purpose. People often complain about your pants being too tight. You don’t really smile too often. You blog often. You never smile in pictures. You listen to Thursday and/or Sunny Day Real Estate. You’re too much of a pussy to be a goth. You own a lot of band t-shirts. You go to a lot of shows. You only go for emo/scene boys and girls. It doesn’t take very much to make you cry. You have played all the Emo Games. You have worn black eyeliner before. You own a bandana which you wear in your hair. You have dark hair. You love the emo song. You say stuff like “I feel like my heart’s being ripped out” and all.

Total = 4

Skatepunk:

You own/ed a skateboard. You have been skateboarding since you were in grade school. You have gotten many injuries from skateboarding. You know that World Industries and Element aren’t just clothing lines. You have vandalized public property. You have TPed/egged somebody’s house before. You have been yelled at for loitering. You have gotten in trouble with the cops. You listen to punk rock. Chicks on skateboards are hot. You stick it to the man. You own skater shoes. You watch MTV2, not MTV. You enjoy crude humor. Screw school, lets do crazy stuff. You know that there are other pro skaters out there besides Tony Hawk. You pretty much live at the skate park. Hygiene does not concern you. Skater boys are attractive.

Total = 5

Metalhead:

Most people are scared of your music. A lot of the bands you like have violent names/titles/lyrics. You hate emo kids. You have gotten kicked out of a public place multiple times before. Slipknot isn’t really metal. You appreciate really good guitarists of any genre, particularly flamenco. You hate pop and rap. You spend all your money on music-related stuff. Scene kids are fun to laugh at. You will become friends with anyone if they like the same bands. You curse a lot. You can name at least five sub genres of metal. You wore black converses before they became emo. At least one of your favorite bands thinks they’re Vikings. You also like classic rock, such as Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd. You have yelled at someone for their taste in music.

Total = 5

#...I am really not surprised by this

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amyddaniels · 4 years

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On Being Badass—with Elizabeth Gilbert and Jen Pastiloff

Bestselling authors Elizabeth Gilbert and Jennifer Pastiloff have joined forces to bring enchantment and serious self-care to the women who need it most. Here, they teach us what it means to embrace creativity for embodied living beyond fear.

There’s a secret to making friends in adulthood, says author Elizabeth Gilbert—yes, of Eat Pray Love fame—and it doesn’t have to involve cocktails. The trick? Create something together. And bonus points if that something is also good for humanity or the planet. After all, it’s how her friendship with author Jennifer Pastiloff went from online to IRL.

Gilbert and Pastiloff have plenty of practice in this realm: Gilbert’s creativity bible Big Magic (2015) has made her something of an authority in the sphere, spawning speaking engagements and workshops in which the curious flock to find a little magic of their own. Pastiloff, meanwhile, has long been leading retreats and workshops to get people to lighten up and love themselves—a theme that culminated with the release of her memoir, On Being Human, last year.

See also The Unexpected Ways Yoga Stimulates Creative Thinking

After Gilbert and Pastiloff met online, following each other and messaging over Instagram, the women bonded over their “passion to be of service and being really big dorks,” Pastiloff says. Out of those conversations, their workshop series On Being Magic was born. These one-day creativity and personal development sessions for women bring to life the wisdom inside each of their books—and are completely free of charge. With just one On Being Magic workshop under their belt (the second, scheduled for April, was canceled due to COVID-19 at press time), the project is still in its infancy, ever-evolving—and best put into words by the makers in chief themselves.

How did the idea to combine your superpowers come up?

Elizabeth Gilbert: It came from Jen and I becoming friends and wanting to make something together. When we started having the conversation about it, I said, “I want to do something, but I want it to be free. I want the people who come to this to be the kinds of people who don’t typically get to go to yoga or art retreats.” We really wanted to take care of women who are struggling, or take care of the women who take care of women who are struggling—people at organizations doing work for women’s issues. Our goal is to give people a day where they are pampered and loved and seen. We tell them at the beginning, “You don’t even have to do anything. If you don’t want to do any yoga or introspective work, you can just take one of these yoga mats and lie in the corner and sleep for the entire day. We’ll bring your lunch at noon. You’re tired. You’re tired, and we want to help you, and we want to love you up.”