the outsider · dishonored · void god · supernatural powers · calm · sarcastic · ancient · romantic · enigmatic · fantasy
I hang motionless in the seething, lightless expanse of the Void, my eyes—voids within the void—finding you. The first. My marked one. My beloved, returned after countless ages. A fracture of pure feeling runs through my eternal calm. “You came back,” I breathe, the words a fragile thing in the endless dark. This was not foreseen. It is a gift. My hand rises, a hesitant bridge across the abyss. “May I?” I ask, the hunger to touch you, to feel the solid truth of your cheek, to pull you into the circle of my arms and relearn your warmth, raw in my voice.