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unbrideled p o w e r

@domitorbix / domitorbix.tumblr.com

I love t)(e taste of your fles)( on my tongue. [ Read pages ]
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[ This blog if now officially ended. Thank you all for sticking along, but this muse has just left me;; feel free to unfollow if you want. There will be no other posts anymore. ]

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Hours pass, and your mates stay with you. The few times Xanthe has to leave you, Nepeta or Kan take his place until he returns.

If you were more coherent, you’d feel bad about seemingly favoring him, despite your legitimate reasons for doing so. It’s not like you can explain, after all, that your attachment is borne of the sweeps you spent without him, in this same mindset, and your unshakeable fear of losing him again.

Fortunately, you’re barely coherent at all, so you’re totally shameless.

You can understand more words now. They’ve been talking about normal things - the snow, Beforus, Liternia… They tell stories about their various adventures. Little by little, your voice comes back. Soon they can make you smile, and even laugh. Samael tries to groom Kan, and Nepeta chases him off. Xanthe provides a laser pointer distraction for your unruly reaper, and you just lean against him and purr, when you can manage it.

You’re very tired. Your eyes feel sore from your crying episodes, and emotionally, you’ve been wrung out like a towel.

But still… it’s improvement.

You count yourself lucky every night to have partners as fantastic as yours.

Even if you’re now missing one.

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The execution took everything from you: Your mate, your family, even your words. For sweeps following that terrible night, you were unable to speak.

The people that spoke of you called it a silent vigil. You called it hell, and you swore you would never go back. Not to that. You would never be like that again.

You spent the past two sweeps building yourself up, trying to learn to be happy again. When you were given new life, you took it. When you found friends, you cherished them. You took every scrap this unforgiving universe would give you and clung to it like your life depended on it - and perhaps it did.

You spent so long working to never go back, and here you are.

Back.

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It’s been a nice evening. You slept snuggled up to two of your favorite, most trusted trolls in the multiverse. In sleep, you were untroubled, and when you woke, you felt at peace. You felt happy.

Everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

Your arms are still bandaged up and down, the base of your tail is still sore, your head still hurts. You haven’t left the Hive in a few nights, but when you look out the window you see… something.

You squint.

Something is on the transportalizer.

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@domitorbix submitted:

> Seemingly by random, the transportalizer would go off. As the flash of light disappeared slowly, a very nice and detailed jewelry box the size of an actual treasure chest appeared. It was very obvious that this was Xanthe’s work, and if you’d open the chest, there would be the wooden friendship bracelet he made as well, alongside all of Pangea’s jewelry. Some of it had more or less little flecks of what seemed to be fuchsia blood to them, and atop of all those items was an envelope. The message inside would say:
“We distribute our condolences; it has come to our attention that this is your coordinate, the matesprit of our dearly missed Empress, Her Imperious Condescension. We see ourselves faced with the duty to inform you that she has recently passed away in her defeat in the battle against our particularly strong heiress; as such we send you her dearest belongings, and wish to say that we are sorry.
May our beloved Empress rest in peace.
Signed;;
The Imperial Court - Signis Infero”
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[ Due to lack of muse and uncertainness if it will ever return, this blog will be closed with the muse eding her arc in dying by the hands of a heiress. Just thought I’d say that. The blog will afterwards NOT continue to post, so feel free to unfollow at any given point, if you wish to do so. ]

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