-Private Threads- [pluviosa]

[nightmareofdivinity]

For threads that don't go anywhere else.

Please include rough day/time in the header of the comment just for timeline's sake.

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[harmoniousconsecration]

"I will live. I won't leave you." A promise, his voice soft, barely more than a whisper. "I could never. The thought of leaving someone I... I love... it's too much to bear."

Sunday's entire life so far, seemed to have been a series of exits. First his homeland. His mother. His sister. His father. His Dream. Even his Family had left him. His prayers to any Aeon had always gone unanswered, and the silence now had left him more empty than ever before.

And... He couldn't put Fou-Lu through any more misery. Not after seeing how Mami's loss had torn the Endless apart, after the look on his face upon discovering Sunday frozen in place, after watching him collapse to the floor, the very thought laying the other man low. Not a worshipper. Not a subject. Not his to command. The last sentence feels like a vice over Sunday's heart. He was not Fou-Lu's to control.

But could he... Could he be his, to hold close? To... to love?

Fou-Lu's eyes meet his own, the last of his tears shed. The other man presses closer, their foreheads together. The intimacy of it, the gentleness... Sunday feels like his chest could burst at any moment. Fou-Lu wipes away his tears, and the halovian leans into the touch, one of his ear wings cradling the back of the other man's hand, feathers gentle against his skin.

Walk within me. Walk with me.

His hand is taken, pressed to Fou-Lu's chest. Sunday existed, within his mind, his heart. Their fingers lace together, and Sunday's cheeks flush. He allows this, allows himself to feel that the other man is alive, that he is here. That he isn't alone. Neither of them were. Fou-Lu's words linger, making a home within Sunday's heart, too.

"You do. I have never felt more safe, with anyone. I... Want your happiness, as well. I can't bear the thought of you lonely, or in pain. I am here. I will not be far from you." If you wish it, if you want it, if you'll have me, left unsaid, caught in his throat.

Fou-Lu requests to hold him, his face flushing... Sunday's heart threatens to beat out of his chest at the sight. Could they really have one another like this? The halovian nods, squeezing the other man's hand gently. Leaning forward to press a kiss to the back of Fou-Lu's hand, close to his chest, his heart. Feeling his warmth. So long as they were here, together, he thinks that he could be okay with... this. Even temporary, even fleeting.

"Of course." Sunday thinks that he would allow Fou-Lu to do anything. He would tell him of life, of his feelings. Of the world he desired, of... a future, with himself in it. "To speak of life... I feel that mine has only barely started."

It was strange to think, to wonder, now, having spent so many years within a dream. He had lost so much to this idea, this cause. And yet... He would not be here without it. He still doesn't understand why him, why any of them. And yet... there is a softer, selfish wish at the back of his mind: Perhaps... he didn't want to return. It feels wrong, at first. Of course he had to, he had a duty to Penacony.

He remembers asking Robin to kill him, the opalescent blood, sticky in his hair, on his face. The metal click of a handcuff around his wrist as he and Robin were separated. The room he was locked in, the chair he was chained to. Raised as a sacrifice, in one way or another: doomed to an lonesome eternity, or the death of his father, The Family washing their hands of the Incident. Leaving Sunday to take the fall.

Did he truly have a duty to anyone?

Sunday's not sure, anymore. There's a new feeling with that thought, not quite anxiety. Hope for the future, he thinks. Even one without his Dream. Hope for himself. It's strange, and feels almost... Wrong. But having Fou-Lu close, being asked to live for now, to spend his days lucid, away from Dreams. To create the world he sought in reality...

Sunday thinks that maybe he could.

"I... wish to hear of your world, as well. I want to understand it, understand you." He pauses, remembering Fou-Lu wishing to speak to him, having allowed Sunday to talk first. "You... had something to say, earlier. I am happy to hear it."

[nightmareofdivinity]

He pulls back slightly, but only so he can wrap his arms around Sunday, holding him loosely as he guides him to sit on the bed. His head drops to the halovian's shoulder and he breathes a little more easily. He's trying. He's doing his best. He's not sure how to do this, but he can hold the other at least as they sit.

"Life... 'tis a difficult thing to figure out. I hath watched many - the newly born, the old, the warriors and the merchants. But 'twas always life according to the whims of those who hath summoned what they wished to be a complete god. There hath always been someone directing mine actions. Even now, the order to unite the world... 'tis strong. I hath had no life of mine own."

He's going somewhere with this, he swears. "But from mine observations 'tis not an easy thing to determine, even for those who art predisposed towards independent life. ... 'Tis all right to be lost, for 'tis only by venturing forth that a path may be found." He squeezes Sunday gently as he smiles a little sadly.

... But what he was going to say? "... I wert prepared to broach this same subject. It seems we hath both had this on our minds." It's a little funny, if it weren't so slightly awkward. "You - you hath been on mine mind constantly. 'Tis... difficult to think of anyone else. And to think of thee being hurt... 'tis impossible."

[harmoniousconsecration]

The arms around him, the warmth of the other man, the gentle guidance to sit upon the room's sole bed. There's a quiet intimacy to it all, and his arms find their way around Fou-Lu as well, allowing it. Feeling the other man's head rest upon his shoulder, feeling him breathe easier, now that they were close, now that there was a physical reminder of the fact that they both lived.

Within the wake of Sunday's admittance, feeling both lost and yet born anew, Fou-Lu relates to it, describes some part of his life--- how he had never known purpose beyond what he had been called for, beyond his own summoning. A familiar ache tugs at the halovian's chest, and he finds that he can understand, the both of of them slated for duties out of their own hands, beyond their control. Expectations set upon their shoulders by those that had called them forth, had given them purpose. To think of a life, without this... A life filled with choice and possibilities, a life beyond a dream, beyond a cruel world that did nothing but kill and harm the innocent...

"There is comfort, in knowing that you understand. Though our lives and worlds may be different, we have found ourselves in a similar position, here." A life upon a Ship that thrived upon a desolate planet. They had no duties. Their lives were their own. "Neither of us have lived without order, without direction, or purpose."

With that thought, a quiet desire takes root in his heart. If Fou-Lu would have him walk through reality, and let go of the dreams he had grown fond of, then perhaps together, they could find something like meaning, upon this Ship. That they could discover together what sort of life they desired to live. Even if it were only temporary... perhaps a glimpse at something better, at something selfish, at something all their own...

The thought flutters in Sunday's chest, an ache wherever it touches. He still struggles with the temporary, with the fleeting. But he supposes he's in good company, if that is the worst of his fears.

The gentle squeeze pulls Sunday back to the moment, the sad smile. He was right-- It did little good to remain in place, remain in the past, stagnant. While Sunday felt lost and almost afraid at the thought of it all, knowing that Fou-Lu felt similarly.... It helped. They were both equally lost, weren't they? Treading water they had little experience with, finding themselves burdened with new situations, new thoughts.... Feelings.

And yet, was it truly a burden? With Malos' words in mind, the encouragment he'd recieved... He doesn't think so.

"It... Is also not a path we need to walk alone. I am with you. I will not leave you."

It's a promise he intends to keep, offering the other man a smile as well, soft.

The thought of being on Fou-Lu's mind like this. Constantly, he'd said. The halovian more than understands what he means, Fou-Lu's gentleness, his voice. The kindness he'd shown Sunday. All of it flickered through his thoughts, even as he mused on his own actions, his experiences, he'd found himself back at the topic of the other. Had found himself wondering if one such as he could ever forgive him, could understand the actions Sunday had taken. Fou-Lu's words had become something of a footnote to his thoughts: How he was not his worshipper, was not one within Fou-Lu's domain, and yet... still, one so godlike, one so Endless, could still find something in him worth protecting. Could love him.

Sunday wishes to feel worthy of that level of care, worthy of Fou-Lu's affections. A smaller, quiet part of him believes he could be, knows that it wasn't his place to decide for the other man where his love laid to rest. Be it in him, or anyone else. The halovian's head leans against Fou-Lu's, his ear wing reaching and then folding around the Endless's head, gently cupping it, feathers brushing against the other man's cheek.

A silence lingers between them, as Sunday closes his eyes, just feeling their proximity, the comfort Fou-Lu's presence brought him. Hoping to extend that same comfort to the other man. All was well. Something, in all of this... It just felt right. Fou-Lu admits he'd had the same concern in mind, and... There's a warmth, in that. Even as they both awkwardly struggled to put the pieces together, even as they seemed unsure of themselves.

"I haven't been able to think of much else, either. You are always present, within my mind. Thoughts of you linger in the background of every conversation I have." Words said within Fou-Lu's hair, his voice warm. "I... worry. I can't bear to see you suffering. I think of how those bells cause you great pain. I think of how I wish to see you happy. How I also wish for you to be near."

His arms squeeze around Fou-Lu, as he nuzzles into his hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. The next words are... They feel like a lot to say. Heavy. They carried weight. But. Sunday finds that he means them, all the same.

"I see you, and I find myself wanting to consider a future."

[nightmareofdivinity]

"... I doth feel similarly." Living like a mortal... he'd never considered it, and yet did his body not bleed? Did he not need food and water? It's not as if he isn't without physical needs, and from all he knows this is a physical feeling, too. The need to be cared for, the need for intimacy... he's afraid of the other getting hurt, but he's more afraid of not being with him.

His heart beats in his chest, just like it does for Sunday. Are they not the same in some ways? Just two beings, lost and worried about what's coming next. He presses a soft kiss to the other's neck and just... breathes. Breathes in the safety, the warmth, the feeling of being with someone rather than just near someone. Sunday is not a replacement for what he's lost... but he can still fill the void somewhat.

It's okay. They're okay.

"... More than anything I wish to support thee and thy goals. To walk with thee as we find another path. To guide thee when thou art lost and help thee up when thou doth fall. If thou wouldst accept a broken half-creature such as mineself, then... then I wilt swear to protect thee with as much power as I canst bear. Thou art precious and important, and worthy of protection and... and love."

He trembles slightly at the force of the word, but he means it. He means every single word but especially that one. He's here and he's real and so is the other. And who knows what dangers they'll face? They'll figure out a way together. "... Wouldst..." He pulls away slightly so he can look up at Sunday, his face flushing pink.

"Wouldst thou allow thyself to accept... a kiss?" He's seen others do it and he's curious as to what it means, but it looks... nice.

[harmoniousconsecration]

Sunday feels a gentle kiss against his neck, the warmth of Fou-Lu's breath ghosting over his skin. They were here, together. His eyes flutter shut, just enjoying the intimacy of the moment, how close they were to one another. As difficult as it was to adjust to this new life... Little else felt more right than this.

Fou-Lu's words... make his heart ache. For the other man to think himself broken, a half-creature. Something so base and awful... Sunday looks down at the other man, a pained expression on his face, concerned. He cups Fou-Lu's cheek.

"You are not any lesser just by nature of your summoning. I know that you don't feel whole, or complete. I know that you wish to find your other half. I can only imagine how it pains you. But you are not any less worth of kindness, or respect. Or love. You are not less of a person because of this. You have a kind soul. You have known so much suffering. I have never thought you broken."

The endless' words are full of care, and conviction. Trembling as he speaks the word love. There is power in it, Sunday knows. He can feel it in his chest, aching and burrowing in, an animal seeking heat and safety.

"We can support one another. Guide each other." The halovian thinks, perhaps this was what love was, a place to lay one's head in at night, glances and traded kisses, a person to confide in, to seek shelter in. A person one wishes to create a better world for. "Neither of us have to face everything alone."

"I want to support you, as well. I want to remain with you. I... I don't know what that may look like. I have little experience in this reality, let alone within the boundaries of my own world. But I will be here with you. I want to help you, allow you to live free of this curse, to accompany you, even after you find your other half. If you so wish it. I will accept you in any state, in any form. The only doubt in this I have ever felt is if I am worthy of your grace."

Sunday's hand moves toward Fou-Lu's, and laces their fingers together, gently squeezing the other man's hand. Their heads still lean together, for now, and Sunday opts to press yet another kiss to the top of Fou-Lu's head, before speaking.

"If you would have me like this... If you would love one who carries his failures in his heart, a man who has spent a lifetime trawling through dreams, longing for a better world while failing to create one... Then I am here. I am with you. And we can walk together."

Fou-Lu pulls away, face flushed. looking at him, as he asks if he would... accept a kiss? The halovian's heart stutters, fluttering in his chest. His ear wings flap, and his own face heats up. It wasn't a question he'd expected, even with their shared little kisses, the clinging and crying and exchanging of the word love. And yet.... He welcomes it all the same, smiling softly, warmly at the other man. His voice quiet, just for Fou-Lu, as if the whole world could hear them within the walls of this room. Leaning close, closer. His lips brushing against Fou-Lu's cheek.

"I... I would."

From Fou-Lu? Always, he thinks.

[nightmareofdivinity]

Oh, how he wishes that he could believe those words - that he's worthy of things, that he has a kind soul. That he's not broken, fractured, incomplete - a feeling that's haunted him for decade after decade because he knows it's true. But he gathers his courage as much as he can, placing a hand on the back of the other's head gently and pressing his lips to Sunday's.

Instantly he feels warm, feels the gentle pressure, and tries to keep his breathing calm. His eyes close as he basks in the warmth, the feeling of care and tenderness and... and love. He holds it for a moment before his cheeks flush an even deeper pink and he presses his face into the crook of Sunday's neck again.

"I... I wish only for thy happiness. I wouldst like nothing more than to be worthy of thy grace. Thou art not Endless but I doth feel unworthy of thy attentions nonetheless." He takes a deep breath and tries to keep himself steady. He still feels... awkward about this - not that it's wrong but more that he's doing it improperly.

Even if there's no one to watch him he feels... shy. He's so used to having eyes on him that he's not sure what to do without them. "I doth not know how to walk this path. But... we art together. We canst help each other." And he knows that he will defend Sunday with his life. He needs to make sure that the other is safe.

[harmoniousconsecration]

The kiss is soft, warm, gentle. They are both woefully inexperienced with this sort of thing, but yet... it's lovely. There's a warmth in his chest that spreads and spreads, and he smiles against Fou-Lu's lips. His ear wings flutter as he kisses the other man in return, feathers brushing against both of their cheeks.

When the other man pulls away, pressing his face back into Sunday's neck, the halovian's heart still races, excited. He strokes gently through Fou-Lu's hair, sighing softly. Just allowing him close, enjoying this.

"I... want the same, for you. I want you to be happy. I want to be part of that happiness, if I can." Sunday admits, the words leaving a blush on his cheeks, so very honest. His free hand rests upon Fou-Lu's cheek. "You deserve this. You are worthy of this. I swear it, Fou-Lu. Those same worries made me... hesitant, to tell you about this. I feared the same of myself."

In the back of his mind, the halovian still did. Even so, Sunday laughs, a soft little sound. They were both so clueless, weren't they? Travelling an unfamiliar path. But like Fou-Lu said: They had each other, were together, and thankfully, lived within the same vicinity, just a few doors away. It was a journey they didn't have to undertake entirely alone. And... having Fou-Lu close like this, one so endless and yet just as nervous as he was... It was comforting. Reassuring. Sunday didn't need to have everything figured out. He just needed to know what direction he was heading in. Though similar in many ways... their experiences seemed different enough that they could provide insight to each other that they may not have considered alone.

And they... could walk together.

"Neither do I. So much of this is very new to me." Sunday says, leaning back to look down at the other, his expression warm. His hand strokes Fou-Lu's cheek, tender, trying to offer something in the way of comfort, reassurance. To touch him, hold him, to prove to him that they weren't alone, didn't have to be. "I have faith in you. In us both. I don't know what lies ahead, or what may happen. But I know that I feel safe with you."

And maybe that was just as good.

[nightmareofdivinity]

"... Wouldst thou wish to lie together again?" He doesn't know the word 'cuddle', but that's what he means. "I doth not wish to make thee do something thou doth not wish to do." The kissing was nice, and maybe they'll do it again, but he feels very heated right now and he's not sure what to make of it.

He presses his hand on the other's lower back, pulling him in while being careful to avoid the wings. They're... quite beautiful, but he isn't sure if touching them is proper. ... But who cares about proper?

(He does. He cares.)

"I wouldst keep thee from the dangers here, but I wouldst not cage thee. Thou deserveth freedom, not incarceration. So I ask that thou doth take me with thee when thou doth desire to go to the lower reaches of the vessel." He just... he just wants the other to be safe. Imprisoning him would just make him miserable, and it seems like he's had enough of that already.

[harmoniousconsecration]

To lie together again... The thought was lovely. Fou-Lu asking if he would like these things, allow them... Telling him he didn't want Sunday to feel that he had to go along with any of it. It's comforting, full of care. And he appreciates it. They're both very new to this. All of this. There's a warmth, some excitement, fluttering away in his chest.

"I. I would like that."

A hand presses against his lower back, pulling him close. Mindful of his wings. Sunday is touched by Fou-Lu's grace, finds it very gentlemanly. The halovian's hands find Fou-Lu's face, cupping his cheeks.

Before laying down, before guiding the other into the bed with him, he lets himself enjoy this little moment, leaning close and kissing Fou-Lu again, a little peck, something quick, sweet.

Fou-Lu speaks of not wanting to imprison him, even with his love. Wishing to use it instead to protect him. It makes him feel.... something he's not sure how to describe. Was his own love a cage?

Sunday thinks of Penacony, his eternal dream. How his desire for a perfect world with no pain hinged around his sister. Did she think it a cage? The realization that life slumbers so it can live, that dreams are a reprieve, that sleep could not be forever, was still something he struggled to understand, accept. His whole life had been in dormancy.

And he knows he doesn't want that for the older man, either.

"I will. I'll come find you, if the desire ever strikes me. I don't... want to cause you undo worry. And. I would like to have you close if danger is near. If you are not busy, if you... don't mind."

Sunday feels safest around Fou-Lu anyways, he finds. Not that many have given him a reason to fear them, but... Having spent more time around the endless than others so far, he believes this feeling is more than warranted. They can't always be together, of course. But they can allow themselves this.

"I don't want you to feel.. bound to me, and my well being. All of this is very new to me, and I might be mortal, but. I can cope."

All things considered, he thinks he's been doing. Okay, on the coping part. He may not be physically strong, and might have a few... issues. But he wasn't fragile.

[nightmareofdivinity]

The kiss is sweet, tender... he can feel himself warming again. It's unfamiliar, given that he runs a bit cool, but it's not... unwelcome.

"'Tis not as if there doth be much here to busy mineself with. Not even a tome to read..." It's boring. There's not even a lot of things he can fight, and he can only whack a tree so many times before he gets irritated that it's not fighting back. "But I wouldst protect thee, should the situation call for it."

Bound to him? He huffs in amusement and presses a kiss to the other's forehead. "I doth not feel bound to thee, only by mine feelings." He curls up next to Sunday, leaning into him. He'd hold him from behind but he doesn't want to cage the other's wings.

"I wilt not go on mine own either, even if that doth be what I hath become accustomed to. You shalt have no cause to worry." ... He hopes, at least.

[harmoniousconsecration]

Sunday gives the other man a sympathetic look. It was boring here. But he found that he didn't mind it, not really.

"I would hate to see you hurt on my behalf." Sunday admits, his voice soft, warm. Fou-Lu lies with him, leaning close. Sunday is just glad to have him near, to feel him close like this again. Sunday's hand finds his cheek, gently cupping it. "I will also do what I can to support you. I am here, I am never far."

Loneliness had carved a great hole in Sunday's chest, over many years. The edges of it are still raw from the loss of everyone he loved, everyone he'd known. And yet... These last few weeks upon this Ship have proven to him that he didn't have to pull himself away, that he didn't have to be alone.

Slowly, surely, something in him was starting to change. It was raw, a great undoing of everything he'd previously come to know, accept. A tangled, woven net that had only just begun to unravel. It was difficult. But he wasn't alone, through it.

The promise he'd just made still lingers at the back of his mind, a paradise without the dream had seemed so impossible, before. He feels the older man close, feels warm lips against his forehead, knows that he's bared his soul to this man and it hasn't yet turned him either away or against him, and.... A feeling flutters in his chest.

Maybe it would be okay. Maybe everything could be.

He was glad that Fou-Lu didn't feel bound, forced into this, as though the act of loving and being loved by Sunday were a cage. The halovian wants nothing more than the endless' safety, his happiness, with or without him at his side. But to have the chance to linger close like this for now.... It was more than enough.

"Thank you. I know this place is boring for you, and I don't want to simply... ask you not to explore. It wouldn't be fair of me." Fou-Lu's words are reassuring. He trusts them, trusts him to keep them. He smiles. "I... know that you are capable. Strong on your own. I trust that you know what you're doing, much more than I do. All I want is for you to be okay. And if you aren't..."

A wing at Sunday's waist reaches over, gently resting upon Fou-Lu. Holding him close, but easily moved, if it were too much, if he felt smothered. His wings were not large or high enough on his back to shelter the endless, but he could drape them over Fou-Lu, when they were close.

"I want to be near. I want to aid you. In any way I can."

[nightmareofdivinity]

He takes some deep breaths, curling into the other. He can be... vulnerable. He can be weak with Sunday. It's okay, and it's not a statement on his strength or pride. It's just... being able to be weak. Being able to be here for the halovian and not have to be formal or careful or... anything but himself.

Even if he's not sure what 'he' is outside of his purpose.

"I doth feel the same. I doth be here for thee, in whatever manner I canst be of assistance." The wash of emotion has left him... tired. He reaches over to grab the sheet and pull it up around the two of them. A small gesture, but one that allows them to share the warmth of each other more easily.

"We shouldst both rest. It hath been an... emotional conversation for the both of us."

[harmoniousconsecration]

Sunday allows the other man to curl up against him, letting him have that quiet moment. Intimacy, closeness. Vulnerability. Sunday smiles, pressing a kiss to Fou-Lu's forehead. He feels. Comfortable like this. Without a need to put up walls or barriers between himself and anyone else, not having to hold himself with such care. He could simply... be.

Fou-Lu pulls a sheet over them, suggesting that they rest. Sunday feels that he agrees, it had been. A difficult comversation. Not a bad one. Not something negative, but. It had been emotional, even draining. He can feel the exhaustion in his face, his chest, heavy.

It had also been the first time he'd well and truly opened up to another, in quite some time. The first time in a long time, in which he had laid out all of himself, his sins, on display for another to examine... Sunday was a man that acted on behalf of his aeon, who had accepted confessions of wayward, fearful souls who only wished for understanding, forgiveness. He was a symbol. He was an older brother. It was improper of him to impose his problems on a sister so far away.

Where, and with who, could he lay his burdens down? His love for all people, his pessimism, his distrust, his fear?

"Let's rest, then. I think we both need it." Sunday's arm drapes over Fou-Lu, gentle, not wishing to make him feel trapped. Wanting only to hold him. Wondering if the other man had been held in this way before. A few solid moments pass, before he adds, voice hushed, "Thank you. For hearing me. For trying to understand."

Here. He could lay it here.