#vantasces

The ancient troll stared at his counterpart, full of pity, and dare he admit it, lust, which blossomed within the deepest, most animalistic fraction of him. The sweater shrouded troll with the same empty eyes and mutant red blood, which matched said sweater, leaned against him in fatigue and relief. After all their differences, the kind hearted Alternian, rather than scold and attack the Beforan for his beliefs, discussed and intelligently countered him, and accepted vice versa. Finally, after a long winded several hours, agreed to disagree.

Now they were here. This moment of silence. And the Signless could feel Kankri's weakness in the moments of silence. Where his defense mechanism was useless. It puzzled him, really. He had made it quite clear that Kankri had nothing to defend or be afraid of. He felt the young apparition's breath quicken in anxiety. He felt the long, pale fingers upon his thigh begin to shake and quiver. His chin sheltered the dancestor's forehead. Despite the curls of his wild mane, he could catch glimpses of his furrowed brow, threatening to leak a cherry translucent sweat from his pores.

It ripped at the martyr's heart. He saw himself in the face of his darkest, loneliest hours. The nights when he dreamt of peace and equality, only to wake to war and agonized travails. And no one could understand. No one could help him. He colored the walls of his own personal asylum, slowly losing the will to wake up from these beautifully composed, torturous hymns of another world. One that he was damned from entering. And the echoes of their chorus ripped from his raw throat all hours of the day, vainly trying to reshape solid steel with his bare hands.

The ancestor gently ran his calloused, long fingers across the fabric of a warm sweater, a symbol of a love that had survived the scratch. The only ideal that seemed to do so. He hummed softly. Kankri froze as he felt the vibration in his mind.

He pulled away slowly.

"Why are you frightened of me, Kankri?"

For once, Kankri was speechless. He exhaled quietly.

"I am not frightened of you," he whispered indignantly, "I'm ashamed of myself. Don't you see? I am nothing but a shadow, and I cannot even achieve that accurately. I can't even follow your path without...without fucking it up. I truly am all hot air. Just attempting to fight what I was destined to be."

The Signless pondered for a moment.

"I think you're mistaken. You came before me, Kankri. If anything, I am your shadow. If it were possible, that is. Honestly, I myself find comparing yourself to others to be quite triggering..."

With the word he leaned closer to the other deceased and wound his arms around him .

"I...why are you doing this? Y...you don't have to comfort me..."

The martyr sighed gently.

"I pity you, Kankri."

With that, the Signless sealed their lips in a kiss. Kankri almost shoved him away. But then he realized.

No one had ever pitied him like this. Porrim was completely platonic with her affection. Never had a red suggestion ever been thrown Kankri's way. And the celibate realized he loved it.

"Signless," he whispered against the rough cheek.

"Akrabbi," he revealed softly. "My name is Akrabbi."

Kankri looked up at him and pondered it. The name somehow suited the revolutionary.

"Akrabbi," he spoke seriously, "Red or pale?"

Akrabbi's eyebrows shot up in realization. He hadn't expected to get this far. But he knew that Kankri was not comfortable with explicit action.

"Your decision, Kankri..."

Inexperienced lips slammed back against his in need. Eyes widened, Akrabbi hummed against the desperate need. He pulled back slowly, and stilled the face that attempted to follow.

"But I thought..."

Akrabbi chuckled.

"You might want to slow down, young one. I've far more experience in the craft of pailing than you do. Just relax and and trust me, alright?"

Kankri pondered the thought. Trust someone with something that he had hidden from even himself? Charming thought in theory, perhaps. Still though...

"I...I don't know..."

"It's all up to you, Kankri. You don't have to do anything. I won't force myself on you."

Kankri looked up Akrabbi nervously. It was like looking a mirror that revealed everything you might have been. But he also saw transparency and honesty. He really wasn't going to take his will. This all really was up to Kankri. His heart was trying to rip itself apart in anxiety and want. Want to be loved and have his wants and needs found important.

He traced his fingers against Akrabbi's cheek. His tongue danced gleefully behind his teeth. His blush slowly and dust rose upon his nose and cheeks.

The elder smiled and leaned back down and pressed his lips against the ghost like youth. Kankri hummed and began to move his lips clumsily. Akrabbi refined his approach with talent of many sweeps of practice. Which reminded Kankri:

"What about the Disciple?!" he almost shrieked.

Akrabbi looked honestly surprised by the outburst and was taken aback.

After a few moments, he chuckled.

"I do not follow the rules of quadrants and neither do my partners."

Kankri looked disturbed. "Partners..."

Akrabbi kissed him softly. "Don't worry about it..."

And Kankri agreed wisely. The pair began to kiss again, Akrabbi leading with poise and grace until he felt a young, nervous tongue brush against his lips. Instead of pulling back again, he left his mouth slightly ajar and pressed his lips against Kankri's tongue and encouraged him to enter.

This was all dizzying and confusing to the new lover, but exciting and safe as well. Akrabbi was here to guide and teach him patiently. Kankri didn't know why. Akrabbi had a, well, apparently, multiple lovers. So why was he focused on an awkward, pious mutant like himself. But he kept silent for now and tentatively slipped his tongue into Akrabbi's mouth.

Their twin, wet muscles met and lovingly wrestled, alternating between the other's pleasantly warm mouths. Akrabbi normally tried to dominate his partner when it came to kissing, enjoying the feel plundering their waiting mouths and the moans that came from their surrender. But Kankri was a different case. He was new and scared. The shining example of a blushing virgin. He needed loved and taught, which was why Akrabbi wouldn't take anything from this endeavor. At least not this one. The truth was, Kankri had a long eternity ahead of him. A life among the dream bubbles never ending. The Beforan mutant had refused himself pleasure all his life and a lot of his afterlife. But all apparitions came to the place where they realized that there life had no power over them anymore, and that they were free of labels and responsibilities. And Kankri was slowly realizing:

He was free...

The vows and demands for perfection he had used as a noose, as a deprivation of vital feeling and impulses, sealing the throat of his humanity and sympathy toward the broken he so longed to reach, gasping and choking from a twelve foot tree, hanging off his holy noose, were worth nothing in a world of memories and regrets.

He became more passionate in his pursuit of his counterpart. Clinging to the fabric of the Signless' cloak, he began to groan in the back of his throat as a heat began to pool in his stomach. Kankri began to shiver, and even whimper, as the alien feelings and nature began to speed his heart, like cocaine in his bloodstream.

Akrabbi pulled back, concerned.

"What's wrong, darling," whispered the elder, against Kankri's forehead.

And just like that, the cocaine became morphine, and the world stopped as the deep, caring words rippled through the atmosphere of the dream bubble. Kankri craned his neck to look into the same empty orbs that were coerced within his own sockets. And he genuinely smiled. Speaking no words, he slipped beneath the chin of the revolutionary and sighed happily as strong arms surrounded him.

"Nothing," he whispered in reply, "I've just not the stamina to continue for much longer..."

He trailed off in nervousness. The moment he opened his own mouth, the high of his partner passed him by. But Akrabbi's chuckle was like shot of pure heroine.

"Would you like me to, uh," he hesitated for the first time as he spoke, "help you finish?"

Kankri was actually taken aback by the question.

"I, well, don't think I can handle your-"

"Oh, no! Kankri, I wouldn't dream of being as selfish as to take you like that right now. You-you're a virgin. I don't want to hurt you."

"O-oh," Kankri paled," then how are you-"

"I need you to trust me," Akrabbi dead panned.

"I...alright. I trust you."

"Are you certain of that?" offered Akrabbi," I don't want to force you into anything."

"...will it hurt?" Kankri winced.

"No."

Kankri kissed the Signless one more time.

"I trust you."

Akrabbi laughed and hugged the soon to be former celibate close.

"Lie down on the grass, Kankri. And relax."

Kankri nodded and sighed away his anxiety as he laid down on the soft grass beneath him. Akrabbi laid upon his belly between Kankri's legs.

He gently tugged the fabric of the leggings in pursuit of permission.

Closing his eyes, Kankri nodded. Akrabbi pulled the leggings down to reveal the young apparition's sexual need. His bulge writhed in the cool air of the dream bubble as his nook leaked a cherry nectar from his core. Breathing hard, Kankri bucked his hips, searching for some kind of stimulus. But the elder locked his eager hips with steady hands and smirked.

He ran his tongue from the base of Kankri's struggling bulge to the tip.

Kankri almost choked.

"Ahhnn- oooh, gog...Si-Akrabbi!"

Akrabbi smiled cockily and asked, "How did that feel?"

"Amazing," wheezed Kankri, "but it's not enough...please, don't tease me..."

Akrabbi's pride gently simmered out as he ran a calloused hand across Kankri's soft cheek.

"Alright, love."

He pushed his legs apart and marveled at the virgin, dripping nook. It wept for attention. For adoration.

And both it would receive.

Akrabbi immediately ran his tongue along the taut opening, and Kankri bellowed in awe and shock. His tongue circled the sensitive hollow of the nook, and he groaned at the taste.

It was like fresh wine, spilling from the chalice of the Condescension herself.

He wanted more. Akrabbi lapped and bit and kissed, drawing every noise possible from his current partner. The highest of squeals, the deepest of groans. The young troll's body shook in need of release. He tugged at Akrabbi's hair. The revolutionary looked up, still breathing heavy with his own desire.

"Please, I...I think I'm close. I want to finish. Please let me...come."

Akrabbi's heart twisted almost painfully at the pleas from his counterpart. As if he was just going to leave him here, without satisfaction.

"Shh," said Akrabbi softly, "I'm going to take care of you."

Kankri didn't know why he was moved by that statement. His entire life was used as a selfish ploy, used by those around him, especially a certain fuchsia blooded bitch. And now, his interests were important to another person. And he was truly touched. Tears began to spill from his eyes as shallow breath picked up gradually.

Akrabbi pulled Kankri close and began to move his hand to the youth's nook. He rested butterfly kisses on the ashen marble column of his neck.

"You're gorgeous," he whispered, "You're amazing. Perfect, stunning, decadent..."

With that last word, he plunged his fingers into the warm orifice of his nook. Kankri moaned and wept as the overwhelming senses began to drown him. He began to bounce on the steady digits inside him in absolute desperation and ecstasy.

"I'm close," he groaned. "Please, please...finish it!"

The Signless pulled the fellow mutant's mouth down to his and kissed him as he curled his fingers to hit his absolute center.

"Ahnn...aaahhhhhhh...ahhh...mmm..."

Kankri sank into Akrabbi's lap and panted as Akrabbi captured him in his arms.

Akrabbi rocked him gently as he continued to gasp and sob.

Kankri had never felt so much before. He couldn't explain it. It wasn't a specific sensation. The stimulation was erratic and unnamed and so, so fleeting. Even as he he groaned in shock and awe of the possession of all his sanity, he lost the memory of that terrifying glory. That's what it was, like for a moment, he understood what it was like to be a god. An immortal leviathan, feeling nothing but pure power without description. The only description he could muster was terrifying. And that wasn't fair. Because it was also beautiful.

For a moment he'd thought he was dying again. The world had gone light and all voices and motion were out of his control.

Not death, no. But a holy, monstrous possession.

For lack of a better word, Kankri was shaken.

When he plugged himself back into reality, he heard the Signless' croons and praises, and felt his gentle arms protecting him from all harm.

No.

Oh, Gog, no. Please...

Kankri realized that he was about to crash. That this was over. All the beauty and glory of this moment was soon to end. The man would leave, return to his angelic party, and forsake his needful counterpart. Akrabbi was going to leave, and Kankri had to accept it, as not to force him to stay. To say he loved him like another partner. To do this to him again. To wreck and teach him again. He couldn't force the ancestor to stay.

Kankri would go back to his own party, those sinners and cruel monsters. The people he'd ruined, and who'd ruined him. They'd cut his tongue out if they could, to keep him from talking. He was annoying and useless. He spoke of indecent decency and he was ridiculed for it. He never, never stopped talking. He wasted his breath on cruel faces and impatient sighs. Even the one person who cared for him would no longer allow him speak. He was their regret, their baggage. He was not a family member, rather, an annoying dog everyone kicked around because they were tired of hearing. And, yes, Kankri had a part to play, but he didn't deserve this. He didn't know how much he could possibly take.

As this hurricane of worry and anxiety whirled around in the dead youth's head, Akrabbi made sure he hadn't left a mark on him, besides one pale, blush hickey forming on his neck. But soon, he noticed Kankri's anxiety and pressed in to his new lover.

"What's wrong, Kankri?" he asked quietly. "Did I do anything wrong?"

Normally, Kankri would hold back every emotion of hurt and dilemma in his soul and lie. But this time, it was just too much.

The tears fell faster from his soulless eyes as Kankri began to choke on his emotions.

This shook Akrabbi to his core.

The Signless had never felt so much pity in his life or afterlife. Flushed loved, yes. And greater. But never had pity so much cut his brain from his heart. The moment Kankri had begun to quake, he lost grasp of all his control. He launched himself at the chance that he could save this youth, that he could keep him close. Watching his suffering, well, it was worse than Akrabbi's own.

"What's wrong? Tell me," the ancestor pressed.

Finally, the Beforan broke. He began to weep and sob as he clung to the cape of the Alternian. He almost screamed out his pain, and as he did so, Akrabbi paled to an almost white.

"No," he whispered, "Everything we did was consensual, wasn't it?! I-I thought...you knew what we were...Kankri, I didn't, did I?"

Kankri sat up and stared into the milky orbs of Akrabbi's eyes.

"You didn't what?" asked Kankri, confusion overshadowing grief.

"..." Akrabbi took a breath, "Did I...rape you...?"

Realization hit the youth like a sucker punch. He gasped in guilt as he took the the elder's face between his palms.

"No," Kankri whispered, "I just don't want to lose you." The tears began to surface again along with panic. "Please, Akrabbi don't go. I don't know what I'll do if I have to go back alone."

Akrabbi stared at him. Then he smiled in relief.

"Kankri, I don't want to lose you, either. I wouldn't leave you behind."

Kankri was dumbstruck. His eyes poured out more tears, but his breathing slowly began to still.

And, with insane disbelief, he laughed.

"Believe me, you do not want to stay here. It's not worth anything in universe."

"No, I admit that was not my intent. Still though, maybe..." Akrabbi drifted off in thought.

"What?" asked Kankri, desperate for a solution to the toxic dilemma.

"You could come with me. Back with some of the other ancestors, my partners in particular."

"But, we're disgraces. They don't want to know us. We were the that fucked up worse than they did. Why would they want me around."

Akrabbi stroked his cheek lovingly. "Kankri, no matter what the rest may or may not be, you've proven yourself different. You wrote my path, littered with you mistakes. I followed that path and laid my own mistakes and missed some of yours. At the end of the day, neither of us are better or wiser. We are different individuals with the same enigma. And you, if only you, are my equal. I adore you, pity you, and want you with me."

"What about you partners?"

"I cannot leave any of them. I hope you understand. I love them all, and pity them too. You don't have to associate romantically with them, but I must. I love you all. Can you understand that?"

Kankri looked at him and smiled. "Yes. Will they understand?"

"Easily," Akrabbi chuckled.

Kankri fixed his lovingly messed clothing, stood up steadily, and held his hand out to his partner in abomination.

"Shall we go, then?" he asked, choking back tears.