#finally got a bit of comfort

[painsandconfusion]

Setting

Waking Dreamer - Part Eleven

(tw: gore, broken bones, painful healing, bad caretaker, impalement, blood, manhandling, imprisonment, broken finger, loss of bodily autonomy)

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Zak hit the ground with a wheezing grunt. He heaved, trying to rest the twisting wrongness inside him. So strange to know everything was still wrong and gushing inside even after James had ripped away the shard of bone and sealed up the holes.

Can’t have blood going to waste, can we? No no, it has to stay on the inside when the show is over. Inside is where the blood is supposed to be. Even when it’s in the wrong ‘where’ where it’s supposed to be, James could still reroute it back into the blood vessels. Force his body to contract and constrict and shove it back into place as long as it was at least gathered inside him.

Neat trick.

They also couldn’t have someone following a dripping blood trail out the house and into the woods. No no no, that wouldn’t do. They couldn’t find Zak on his stone floor in his little room underground, sealed off by a rotting wooden door.

No no no no no. They couldn’t handle him.

Zak was far too clever and sexy and generally amazing for the average eyeball. Nah. They couldn’t handle it.

He coughed as James rolled him over, pressing a hand to Zak’s middle. A wheezing sound pressed from his stomach and rolled up his throat, splitting his lips as the agony twisted and changed in his middle, perforated organs re-knitting and schlooping back into place. Squirming inside him. Wrong but so much more right than before.

Zak didn’t bother begging. Didn’t bother asking James to be gentle.

He wouldn’t be. He liked the pain too much.

And it's not like he was going to die or something. Nothing was unfixable to James. He'd been torn apart and re-knit far too many times to have any lack of faith in the man's freakish skills.

Zak stuttered a sob as James’ fingers wrapped around his limp arm, kneading playfully at the sagging muscle and fat, flesh jiggling without its support system.

Zak actually kicked away as James started to shove the sharpened shard back into his arm.

James’ eyes rolled. “What? You want me to leave you like this? I was under the impression you wanted to keep your bones.”

Zak squeaked as James jerked him closer again. Aaaaaand suddenly legs-worky privileges were revoked again, keeping Zak still and helpless as the jagged edge scraped along the oozing flesh, shaving it back and catching on the fibers as it slid back into pace.

Zak choked on a cry, eyes closed so hard he saw flashes of plumeing color behind his lids. Basically TV. Prime entertainment any day of the week. So pretty pretty pretty.

The bone crunched as it twisted, chipping away a live piece and ripping another ragged sob from his barely-functional throat.

Whatever.

He was too tired to care.

Finally, the gagging and the grinding ground to a gritty stop, leaving him breathless as James’ fingers closed up the slice easily.

Bone re-knitting always felt so strange.

Everything so itchy and…chalky? He could feel it shifting slightly as his body built new connections to press together the tattered pieces, stretching the valley between them and re-working it with a convex shield of calcium. 

Well.

Calcium?

Was that right?

Or was it keratin? 

No no, that was bugs - Zak was pretty sure.

It had been a while since school.

Or outside.

Or…

Anything, really.

Zak decided to settle on it being calcium and not think about it anymore. He settled into the quiet, shuddering relief as the pain all but melted away.

There were tears caught in his ear lobes. 

Ew. Itchy.

Salt.

He flicked an exhausted glare up to James as the man pulled back.

James’ eyebrow quirked up. “You have something to say?”

Zak swallowed with some difficulty, vocal chords unfreezing in permission to actually fucking use them for once. 

“..y..you jus….y-ou took me out….for that?”

James shrugged. “What? You think we were going on vacation or something?”

Zak just stared as James stood, heading to the stairs. He chucked a bottle toward Zak.

Protein shake.

Basically half his meals.

“Drink. I’ll be back tonight.”

Zak coughed as he rolled onto an elbow, pulling himself up to sitting. “..g-ourmet - nice-”

James didn’t seem to care enough to respond. He just headed up the stairs, letting the door slam shut again behind him. Chains rattled - then clicked as the padlock snapped into place.

Zak sat up, scrubbing the tears from his eyes and picking up the bottle.

Fuck -ow!?!?

He flinched back as that HURT.

He glanced down at his hand - one finger still swollen.

James hadn’t fixed that one.

….still broken.

…broken by the strange boy James had hurt alongside him.

The one who held his hand.

Maybe a little hard, sure, but….

He’d held Zak’s hand.

No one had touched him that softly since…

Well, he couldn’t even remember when.

Any thoughts of the protein shake faded away as he settled himself against the stone wall, holding his hand. His eyes roamed over the faint outline of it in the darkness. His index finger traced the break.

The most wonderful pain he’d had yet.

He held it close, mind filled with this strange new face. Strange new pain from a strange new setting. A strange new story to build.

Finally not bored.

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(tags: @prisonerwhump @mabledonut @whumpawink @heathenwhump @happy-little-sadist @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @wormwriting @cryptidhongo @villainsvictim @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whumpworld @siren-of-agony @bandages-andobsessions @deltaxxk @rose-pinkie @whumpasaurus101 @warm-my-whumpee-heart @cursedscribbles)

As always, lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!

[morrriigan]

beautiful games i've played ➤ final fantasy x

"Die and be free of pain, or live and fight your sorrow! Now is the time to shape your stories! Your fate is in your hands!"

[atalana]

so the good place is widely lauded on this site for its takes on morality and capitalism, which i totally agree with

but i think it should get more recognition for the line "all humans are aware of death. so we're all a little bit sad all the time. that's just the deal. we don't get offered any better ones. and if you try and ignore your sadness, it just ends up leaking out of you anyway. i've been there, and everybody's been there. so don't fight it. in the words of a very wise bed bath and beyond employee i once knew - go ahead and cry all you want. but you're gonna have to pay for that toilet plunger."

[lovely-jjh]

And if I said that Aaron Minyard greets every new adult with a miss/mister or ma’am/sir because it was beat into him by his mother to make her look good? And he never stopped because when he forgot to as a kid he would get beat? And it took him months to stop calling abby Miss Abigail and coach Mr Wymack because he was scared to get in trouble? What then??

[varpusvaras]

There was no actual dating involved when it came to being a royal.

At least not officially. Officially speaking, things started with establishing an interest, then doing some light mingling and talking that was strictly supervised, and then getting to have talks that were private, which, most of the time, were done by letters and other forms of messages. Then started the proper courting, which would gradually escalate to public courting, and finally to engagement. The engagements could last for a while, too, especially if both parties were young.

Unofficially, of course, especially during this age, all royals and nobles dated. It was just a bit of an quieter affair than other people tended to have, but it was still dating. Breha and Bail had definitely dated for a long while between their official talks and courting. Breha's parents had wanted to give her a bit more of a relaxed experience, as they had become a lot more careful with her after the fall. Bail's parents had been much the same, but Bail suspected that they were also secretly relieved over the fact that Bail had truly decided to adhere to his status, so they were willing to give him a bit leeway with some things, so he wouldn't feel pressured and get cold feet.

Not that he would've. Bail had been smitten with her from the moment she had said her first word to him. He would've given away all his other hopes and dreams, if that meant he could be with her.

Still, despite all of this, because of Breha's status as the Crown Princess, in public, they had to follow the rules. Which meant, amongst other things, that many of their activities before being engaged were severely limited by what was considered proper.

Not that Bail cared, again. He loved every second he got to spend with Breha, not matter what they were doing.

Walks were the one thing that was permitted to do in public from the very start. They did that a lot. Morning walks, if Bail was staying in Aldera and could come visit her before any other daily obligations. Afternoon walks, when the courts and lessons were on pause, and Breha wished to get some fresh air after hours of studying. Evening walks, when Bail could stretch his visit just a little further, when the city had quieted down and the stars were bright, and he could reach over without anyone batting an eye and hold her in his arms and kiss her sweetly, with his nervous heartbeat sputtering inside his ribcage.

They still did a lot of walks. Maybe it was because of nostalgia, or maybe it was so Bail could spend time with her after being away for weeks on end, and still enjoy Alderaan to the fullest. These days, their walks were longer and could take them far away from the Palace, as there was nothing that could limit them anymore.

It was precisely because all of those reasons why they were currently making their way up the trail outside Aldera. To get away from the city life and enjoy the clear skies and clean air, to clear their heads after long days of working, and to spend time together, as just Breha and Bail, and not as the Queen and the Senator.

It was a bit windy, but in all honesty, it also felt refreshing after spending so much time in the stale air of Coruscant. Bail glanced up. The lookout point was still some ways away, with newly constructed path of hardwood stairs leading up to it for the rest of the way. The view from up there would be spectacular.

Not that Bail was in too much hurry to get to the destination. Not when the whole way there was the point.

He turned back to Breha.

"I hope the path is not too steep", he joked.

Breha laughed.

"I have climbed higher mountains with much less paths", she said. She squeezed his hand. "I'm much more worried about you. The only thing you have climbed in a while are the carpeted stairs of the Senate."

Bail laughed as well.

"I climb those stairs enough times that I would already be on the top and back down again", he said.

Breha grinned.

"It's good to have you back home", she said.

Bail smiled back at her.

"It's good to be back home", he said. "I missed you."

"I missed you too", Breha said. She turned her head, and looked down, towards the city and the Palace visible in the distance. "The view is stunning."

"It is", Bail nodded. "And it will be even better from the top."

Breha didn't answer. She just looked out to the city. The wind was whipping her hair around and pulling it out from the neat braid they had been arranged into earlier that day.

She wasn't smiling anymore.

Bail frowned.

"Breha?" He called out to her. "Is everything alright?"

The wind was seriously picking up now, and was suddenly cold, like it was in the middle of the winter, instead of a bright summer's day.

"I missed you", Breha said. Bail tried to squeeze her hand comfortingly, but there was nothing in his grasp anymore. When had he stopped holding her hand?

"Breha", Bail called, and tried to reach for her hand again, but she was standing too far away for him to do so. He was already uphill, on the stairs, while she was still standing at the trail, looking down over the side of the mountain. She wasn't looking at the city anymore, just staring straight down towards the foot of the mountain.

"I missed you", she said, again. "Aren't we missing someone?"

She stepped forward. Bail hadn't noticed that she had gotten off the trail before she was already falling over the edge.

He had no time to move. He could only stand there as she fell, quickly disappearing from his view. He still heard it when she hit the ground, the hard cracking of bones breaking and the body spilling over.

Bail tried to scream. If he did scream, the sound disappeared into the roiling wind.

"Why did you do that?"

He turned around to look up the stairs. Fox was standing at the top of them, looking down at him. The red of his armor was casting a stark, red refliction on the stone surface of the stairs, that was spilling over each step, until it pooled beneath Bail's feet.

He had his helmet on, but Bail could still see his eyes. The sun was shining straight at them, but it was like he didn't even notice. He just stared at Bail with his dull, dark eyes.

They should've been golden. Fox's eyes had always been a mixture of warmth of a autumn bonfire, the same depth that reminded Bail of Alderaan's night sky, and a burst of gold every time light hit them, like the most beautiful sunsets casted over Aldera from behind the mountains.

His eyes should've been golden, with the harsh, white light shining straight at them.

They were black.

"Why did you do that?" Fox asked again. "Why didn't you help her?"

Bail tried to open his mouth to say something, to say how sorry he was, to scream and cry, but he could make no sound to defend himself.

It was because there was nothing for him to say that would ever erase his mistakes.

Fox stared at him from behind the black visor of his helmet.

"Why didn't you help me?" He asked.

His mouth didn't move as he spoke.

"I am right here", he said.

He was. He was right there, just up the steps. If Bail could make his way up in time, he could help him.

He took a step forward. His foot made a hard thud when it hit the stone surface of the step, and the red shadow underneath him rippled, and the ripple turned into a wave, traveling at an impossible speed up the stairs, all the way to Fox, who toppled over when the wave reached him. His neck twisted to the side and cracked open before he even hit the hard stone, and he fell down on to the step, his limbs splayed out and his head turned towards Bail.

He was still staring at Bail.

"I am right here", he said, even though he was already dead.

Bail tried to scream, but there was no air inside his lungs. It had all disappeared into the wind around him, to the wind that was now a storm and was tearing off the moutain from the ground, and Bail woke up with his breath strangled inside his throat.

He laid there for a moment, staring at the darkness above him, before his body reminded him that he could still breathe by making his chest burn, and Bail gasped and desperately drew in a lungful of air.

He turned to his side and heaved the air back out, before he realised that it was in the middle of the night and that he was not alone in the room. He snapped his mouth shut and tried to breathed back in quietly through his teeth and calm down his painfully thundering heartbeat while doing so.

Then he remembered who were in the same room with him.

Bail turned around. Breha was sleeping in the middle tonight, after Fox and Bail had deemed her sufficiently pleased and had wanted to keep her in their holds afterwards. She wasn't wearing much more than a thin nightshirt, and through it, Bail could see the soft, golden glow under her skin, showing that she was breathing and her heart was beating.

Fox was sleeping with his face pressed onto Breha's arm, his blanket for once not draped up all the way to his shoulders, for which Bail was very thankful for, since now, when he sat up and and leaned over, he could see the same soft, golden glow under Fox's skin as well, running as a line from his neck down to small of his back.

Bail could finally breathe properly.

He looked at them for a little longer, and then laid back down. He breathed. His heart was gradually slowing down.

There were tears in his eyes. Bail wasn't sure if they had appeared there just now, or if he had been silently crying in his sleep, while he had not been able to do so in the dream.

Dream. That was all that it was. A dream. A nightmare.

Breha was alive, Fox was alive. It had just been a nightmare.

Bail let the tears fall down before wiping them away.

It was a good thing they had had some fun before going to sleep that night, because it looked like both Breha and Fox were still knocked out because of it, and had not woken up because of Bail's distress. Good. Bail wouldn't have wanted them to wake up.

He knew both of them would be disappointed in him if he ever admitted that to them.

Bail let some more tears fall down, and wiped them away again. He listened to Fox and Breha breathe, and breathed with them. Softly and slowly. He should go back to sleep.

He couldn't make himself close his eyes.

There was a knock on the door. Bail blinked, and lifted his head.

The knock came again before he could do anything else, this time much louder, very much as hard as a tiny fist could knock onto the door. The slow rhythm of Fox's breath stopped, and he lifted his head up as well. He saw Bail awake as well, and looked at him for the short moment it took for his brain to wake up.

"Is it Leia?" He mumbled.

"From the sound of it, yes." Bail was surprised how level and calm he managed to make himself sound.

Fox hummed.

"Are you dressed?" He asked.

"Sufficiently", Bail answered. Fox hummed again, and pushed himself up. Breha was waking up now as well, and she rubbed her eyes and slowly propped herself up on her elbow as Fox slid out of the bed.

"Bad dreams?" She asked, her voice quiet because of the sleep clinging to it.

Bail knew that she meant Leia.

"Maybe", he said, thankful that it was dark in the room.

Fox got the door open. He didn't even get to say anything, when Leia darted past him, her tiny feet sprinting as fast as they could, her breath coming in high-pitched hitches. She ran around the bed and clambered up on it, pulling at the sheets, and threw herself on Bail's chest.

Bail wrapped his arms around her on instinct, his body moving before his mind could.

"Leia?" He called. "What's wrong?"

She only crawled up on him when he spoke, putting her little arms around his neck and squeezing.

"Leia?" Bail tried again.

"Don't be scared", Leia said against his shoulder. "Don't be scared, Papa. Mama and Buir are here."

Oh. Bail felt a sting of guilt. He had not wanted to wake Leia up with the nightmare, either, but it seemed that his feelings had bled over to the real world much more strongly than he had even realised.

"I'm not", he said, squeezing her back. "I'm not, don't worry about me."

Fox had gotten back to bed now, and flicked the nightlight on.

"Oh", Breha said. She sat up properly now as well, her brow furrowed in a concerned frown. "Is everything alright?"

She reached her hand and brushed her fingers over Bail's cheek under his eye. Bail looked at her, and then at Fox, who had a very similar expression on him. Bail knew that he had not managed to dry all the tears properly enough.

Bail patted Leia gently on her back.

"Yes", he said, and gave Breha and Fox a look, hoping that they would understand that it meant that they would talk about it later.

It seemed like it worked, because they both nodded.

Breha then took her blanket.

"Move over", she said to Bail, and moved closer to the edge of the bed. Fox took his own blanket as well, and walked around the bed, sitting down in the edge and gently nudging Bail with his shoulder.

With Leia still in his arms, Bail moved to the middle of the bed, and laid back down when Breha put her hand on his shoulder and just as gently pushed him there. Fox draped Bail's blanket over both him and Leia, and then scooted so close that he could press his body against the side of Bail's.

Breha turned the light off and moved closer as well, resting her head against Bail's shoulder.

"Go back to sleep", she whispered. "We're right here."

She pressed her lips lightly on the skin there. Fox reached his hand and put it over Bail's, where it was resting on Leia's back.

Bail closed his eyes.

[quirkle2]

the angst in your zombie au bREAKS MY HEART INTO PIECES (I LOVE IT VERY MUCH)

okay, okay, so!! if the kagebros got separated from reigen and teru when mob is still fine, i imagine that their reunion would be hEARTWRENCHING also, i'm a bit curious, would mob still be able to recognize teru and reigen? or would he thought about them as strangers?

(tbh, following your lore, i imagine mob would act a similarly like nezuko from demon slayer? but instead of little hums, his zombie sounds would more like babbling and incoherent mumbles :"D)

the reunion is fuckin AWFUL man it's SO gut-wrenching. both reigen and teru feared this for Months while looking for the brothers; pretty much the worst case scenario was that mob or ritsu or Both turned—a lot of humans prefer death over being a zombie any day, so the idea of ritsu or mob having to go through that and wander around aimlessly until starvation or smth else gets them,,,

it hurts them so much to think about. teru forces himself not to dwell on it and he's pretty good at that but reigen thinks abt it a lot and he's honestly not sure what scenario is worse. best case is that they're both alive and unturned, obviously, but what's the worst case? you'd think it's both of them getting killed, or turning, but reigen also knows that if One of them got killed/turned, the other would probably lose their mind, especially if they had to watch. the fact that they're kids makes this all three times worse and reigen has to act like he's Not worrying himself sick over the brothers while he tries to keep teru in high spirits

the reunion itself is rly fuckin gut-wrenching for them. they see mob from afar, wandered off just a bit from ritsu and tome who are just around the bend looting a place, and they book it bc ofc they do, it's mob!! but then they see how pale he is, and when he turns around they don't see that light in his eyes that's usually there and the red is dulled and dead looking,, teru almost moves in for a hug before he realizes mob looks vastly different when he Rly takes him in, and mob doesn't rly react too much besides staring at them blankly. the obvious answer is almost too horrifying to even consider, so it takes them a minute to rly,,realize what's going on

tome comes around the bend and shouts, cuz when humans and zombies mix it's usually guns pointed at zombie heads. ritsu comes running out after her and when he sees reigen and teru his thoughts go, in order: holy shit is that reigen and tero ohmygod oh my god they're alive they're alive ohmy god i could fucking cry, and ohmy god they see shige ohno oh no oh no

ritsu sounds like a lunatic when he pulls mob away from them on instinct and says that he's safe to be around and that he's "still him" and he's "not gone" and he's very aware of that. he's very, intimately aware that he sounds fuckin crazy, bc ofc he does, this is what all the crazy people in zombie movies sound like. but he doesn't care, he doesn't care if reigen or teru dismiss him as nuts—he has to make them understand that his brother is still in there somewhere

and yeah, they both kinda think that ritsu's lost his marbles a little bit, but while teru is focused on that and the fact that mob doesn't look like he's rly tuned into Anything that's happening rn, reigen is a bit more focused on the fact that both ritsu and mob look awful? they're both very skinny and very dirty, obviously barely scraping by. they're cut up and ritsu's jacket is basically blood and dirt with a little bit of green fabric mixed in. and just by the look in ritsu's eyes, reigen can tell, man ... reigen can tell ritsu is like.not okay at this point he's kinda lost it.

i think the most painful thing about this whole reunion in general is that later that night, when reigen and teru r finally like ok we get it he's,, he's still mob. we believe you (they want to believe him... [they Do believe him, later, wholeheartedly]) and they settle down someplace safe, teru asks how long mob's been like this. and ritsu has to answer "since we got separated" and they both have that to stew over while everybody else sleeps

they realize that ritsu likely watched mob turn, watched the entire process, and that process takes a long time. it's at least a week of deteriorating motor functions and cognitive skill, and the fact that ritsu stayed for that to keep mob company is .ough. and it doesn't end there bc ritsu obviously stayed after that too

given how these things usually go, ritsu probably did think about killing mob. it probably did cross his mind, bc that's basically what everybody's been told to do. kill them before they have a chance to do any more damage. and it's obvious that ritsu did not have it in him

ritsu not only did not have it in him to kill him, he didn't even have it in him to leave him there. the kid fucking took him with him. a zombie. and he's somehow made it work, for months. and the next few days are filled with watching him still treat mob like a brother and take care of him and gently steer him away from a bird he tries to follow down the wrong street.ritsu is as gentle and kind as he's ever been with his brother. and even tho they're both hungry and tired and barely making it, ritsu is doing a rly good job taking care of mob with what he's been given

the kid obviously wholeheartedly believes in a cure and that mob is still There. he's gone through the trouble to take care of him, and the grief of continuously seeing a loved one that many would consider effectively dead, to get him that cure. to get him his brother back. and mob doesn't seem to be in any pain or distress, so reigen and teru think that this path ritsu has followed is probably infinitely kinder than the mercy kill method they've been taught to do

i think they have a new respect for ritsu, after that reunion

[skyward-floored]

I finally completed the Anju and Kafei quest 😭

[pink-lemonadefairy]

[cheetahsprints]

Prompt #10: Ghost

Inspired by this post

• Sonadow Prompt Fills •

• Ambience Music •

Content Warning: Implied Major Character Death (of a sort)

*

Green Hill is restored, but Shadow feels like the luscious greenery all around and clear blue skies above are mocking him. He skates from one end to the other day to day without aim. He does what he can to watch over the island, the planet, its life. He promised.

He promised Sonic he would take care of them.

Time blends into a shapeless, colorless blur, empty and sullen. The days turn to weeks that lack a certain spirit. They no longer experience intense, fiery rivalry between a remarkable pair of hedgehogs. Sonic’s friends try to go on to the best of their ability. Tails hasn’t given up, not entirely, but Shadow can see that it’s wearing him down. He practically has to bully the young fox into eating and sleeping some days.

Shadow should tell them that he’s still… seeing him.

He shouldn’t burden them.

They would just think he is insane.

Shadow uses Chaos Control each night to secretly enter the locked up obscured structure where the Paradox Prism is contained. He has to be near it. The night that he found out, he told Sonic’s friends… but for some reason it hadn’t worked for them. Though they didn’t express it in so many words, he could tell they believed he was just dreaming.

Maybe he is deluding himself, maybe has cracked.

It doesn’t stop him.

He rolls into a tight ball and clears his mind. The Prism energy seems to prickle through his quills. It took him a while to actually calm himself enough to sleep after the first time, where he had been unusually exhausted and had practically passed out. He exercises extensively, then drinks relaxing tea before evening. He avoids caffeine and sugar, and he meditates whenever he gets the chance.

The void materializes before him, and he rockets toward Sonic’s usual spot. Sonic immediately perks and smiles when he notices Shadow’s arrival.

“Shadow!”

The enthusiastic cry of his name is pleasing for his ears.

If Shadow doesn’t examine him too closely, Sonic looks completely solid. He isn’t a dream, he isn’t a ghost. He’s real, and Shadow can definitely still smell a mix of coconut and sweat on him. He would be able to hear his heartbeat and feel his breath, if he tried.

Shadow lands next to him at a reasonable distance. He can’t risk brushing against him… because he has an aversion, he tells himself, per usual. No other reason. Nevermind that touching Sonic recently became easier… before the disaster found its costly conclusion.

“Sonic.”

“How is everyone?”

“Well enough. I made sure Tails took a break.”

“Good… good.” Sonic taps his foot. “Um… so what have you been up to? Besides keeping an eye on the team.”

“Your team,” Shadow points out. “I… just run around, I guess, or brood, as you’d call it.”

Sonic scoffs and wags a disapproving finger at him. “Mister Diligence. Workaholic. Don’t you have any hobbies? I know you like music. Make sure to jam to your favorite tunes. Wait, I know! You should try gardening. You could grow your own veggies or flowers and bring me some - uh, forget that last part. Hey, you’ve been eating plenty of chili dogs for me, right?”

“When I can tolerate them,” Shadow admits.

“I’ll take it!” After a moment of silence, Sonic says in a low, gentle tone, “Thanks.”

Shadow briefly pushes his black and red quills back. “Yeah. You’re welcome.”

“Not just for… but for visiting me as well.”

Dread sinks into his stomach as Sonic darts forward and tries to hug him. He slips through Shadow, and Shadow shivers. It doesn’t feel like anything, and that’s what makes his fur stand on end. Sonic gives an awkward chuckle.

“Sonic…”

“I - man - I forgot.”

“You’re not real,” Shadow mumbles. “You’re a figment of my mind to make me feel like… I’m honoring your memory. Like I didn’t fucking fail.”

Sonic crosses his arms and frowns. Shadow hates it… he wants him to only smile… Why’d he have to ruin that? Shadow looks away. Whatever fucked up part of his brain keeps this charade going, it doesn’t allow him to manipulate Sonic to his preferences. Sonic’s pose is too reminiscent of his own tendencies.

It makes him feel even more like this specter is simply an extension of his broken mind and aching heart. It’s a twisted reflection created by his guilty subconscious to torture him.

“That’s not true. I am real. Don’t be so hard on yourself, asshole. You didn’t fail, you did your best. It’s not your fault! It was my choice. What happened, happened. You could’ve just… not bothered. Left the island or something. You’re a good friend, Shadow.”

“Friend… I’m no friend.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Sonic places a hand on his hip. “We’re pals. Buddies. Amigos. Good old regular chums. Confidants, even. Face it. After everything, you can’t deny that.”

Shadow roars, “You’re dead or worse, a ghost trapped in an eternal void, you damn self-sacrificing hedgehog! I didn’t give myself a chance to appreciate what I had, what we could’ve had, until you were gone!!!”

You’re one to talk about sacrifice, a little voice in the back of his mind reminds him.

Sonic’s ears droop, and he flinches back. Shadow balls his hands into fists, wishing he could dig his claws into his palms through the gloves. He wishes he could actually hug Sonic, or at least punch him, whether he’s actually there or not. He wishes, not for the first time, to trade places with someone he loved.

He wants to remove his inhibitors and Chaos Blast this stupid, horrible limbo until he is totally drained.

“Never too late,” Sonic whispers, looking down and scuffing his shoe on the rock. “Plus it’s not so bad here really, since I get to see you, and I have plenty of time to think about how to be a better friend to everyone when I get back.”

“But it is. It is too late. It’s too late for me to love you like I should have,” Shadow insists.

Sonic’s head jerks up and his mouth falls open, his eyes searching Shadow’s hard stare. Shadow closes his eyes as Sonic steps forward, reaching as though to rest a hand on his face.

Shadow wakes up, chilly and alone in the dark cave. The world may not have truly ended, but it feels even more like a ghost in the shadows than it had when the Prism was shattered. Shadow and Sonic were shattered in its place, in different ways, instead.

*

[caterjunes]

i know my body is doing its best but christ alive.

[theygender]

Drank a vitamin water today that made my tongue tingle almost as if it was carbonated for no discernable reason (I drink this flavor all the time so I know that's not normal. checked the expiration date and checked for holes in the bottle but everything looked fine?) and then for dinner I accidentally ate undercooked tilapia. Am I going to die

[celestial-toys]

crawls out of my writing cave on all fours, disheveled and holding a twenty-four-thousand-word-long document between my teeth

[guinevereslancelot]

i actually love the comeback of bucket hats and mom jeans and big glasses and fanny packs and clunky shoes personally. i was born to dress like a dorky tourist from the 90s

[the-acid-pear]

I am soooo close to figuring out purps I swear to god

[avirael]

Vargsången

It had been around a week since they had found refuge at Camp Dragonhead, when Rael woke especially early one morning. They usually got out of bed early enough to watch the sun rise with no problem whatsoever but this particular morning they rose with an uneasy feeling.

Before they left their room Rael glimpsed out of the window, where big white snowflakes were wildly dancing in front of a dark cloudy sky. It would be difficult to get A‘viloh out of bed today, Rael thought as they put on their boots which they had placed next to the door the evening before. It was then that they noticed the carefully folded piece of paper someone had pushed through the small gap between the door and the dark wooden floorboards.

With a confused expression on their face they picked it up and unfolded it to see a small and very familiar handwriting. Instantly that uneasy feeling flared up again. Quickly Rael read the short letter and found their worst fears confirmed.

Dear Rael,

I am sorry to leave you like this but I know that you would have tried to stop me. I am aware that this plan is madness but I simply cannot go on with this uncertainty any longer. I am returning to Ul’dah to find out what happened to our friends. I know it is dangerous but I ran and hid from the consequences of my actions for long enough to know that I will not find peace this way. Don’t come looking for me and please keep Tataru and Alphinaud safe.

Forgive me. If you can.

Your friend,

A’viloh

„This idiot!“, Rael growled as they threw another glimpse out of the window and then hurriedly left their room. Without knocking they tore open the the door across the corridor but found A’viloh’s room empty. As fast as they could they ran down the stairs, ignoring the greetings of the few people who were also up early and threw open the door leading to the yard. The blizzard they had already seen from the window felt a lot stronger and colder up close and to Rael’s frustration not a single footstep was to be seen in front of the house. No traces where he would have gone. The evidence long destroyed by the storm. How long was he already out there? And what had he been thinking at all to go out alone in a weather like this??

Whispering another string of profanities Rael stepped outside and ran across the yard. With one strong push they threw open the heavy double doors that led to the commander’s office. They hadn’t even reached the desk on the opposite side of the room yet when they urgently addressed the Elezen sitting behind it. „Lord Haurchefant!“

Surprised the man looked up from the paperwork’s on his desk and smiled at Rael.

„Please, I told you to drop the formalities. How may I help you.“

„We have a problem!“, Rael continued and the worried tone in their voice was enough to make Haurchefant’s smile turn into a more serious expression. „What happened?“

„A’viloh!“, Rael exclaimed in frustration as if that one word was explanation enough and waved around the piece of paper they still clasped tightly in their hand. „He ran away! To find our friends it seems, but all he’s gonna accomplish is get himself killed. I don’t need to be from around here to know that someone without experience is going to freeze to death all alone in that storm out there! And even if he miraculously makes it to Ul’dah, Ilberd and the other traitors will without doubt be waiting for him and he doesn’t stand a chance against all of them alone.“

„Breathe, my friend.“, the Elezen said and gestured for Rael to calm down. For a moment he looked out of the window in thought and nodded. „Unfortunately you are right. With this weather it is very dangerous out there…“

That information didn’t do much to calm Rael down. „How can we find him in that blizzard? I don’t know when he left or how far he got. I fear he—„

„Say no more.“, Haurchefant interrupted them. Without further hesitation he stood up and walked toward the door, grabbing a thick woollen coat from a coat rack beside the door. „I will find A’viloh and bring him back. You stay here where you are safe. No! No argument, please. I’ll be faster without you.“

Nonetheless Rael followed him out to the yard where he shouted for one of the guards to immediately bring his chocobo.

Rael tried to convince him that they would cover more ground if they both went searching for A‘viloh but Haurchefant pointed out that Rael would most likely get lost too and that he didn’t like to have to search for them both out in this storm. Reluctantly Rael promised to wait for him at Camp Dragonhead and watched him check his gear, get on his chocobo and vanish into the storm with worry written all over their face.

***

The snowflakes and the ice-cold wind felt like sharp little blades on his face. He cursed this storm for not the first time today and he also cursed himself as well.

What had he been thinking?

Not much honestly.

There hadn’t been a storm when he had sneaked out long before anybody else was awake. The whole night he hadn’t slept, once again thinking and wondering. Back then this part of his plan had seemed to him the easy part. He had more wondered about how he would cross Gridanian territory and make it into Ul’dah unrecognised than what else could happen on his way there when at first only a few big snowflakes had begun to slowly fall from the sky. In his determination he had barely taken notice of them, only when the clouds got darker and darker, the snow more and more and finally the wind picked up, howling and biting, he had realised that he hadn’t planned for something like this to happen. He had already walked quite a bit of distance and the Observatorium couldn’t be that far anymore. Maybe he could hide there until the storm died down. So he continued onwards. But with every minute passing he saw less and less of where he was going and soon he realised that he had no clue anymore where he was at all or in which direction he needed to walk. And with every passing moment it only seemed to get colder.

So now there he was, blindly stumbling through the snow, hoping that a settlement, a house, a fire, anything would show up before his eyes. But instead he couldn’t even tell anymore where the white ground beneath his feet ended and where the sky with it’s veil of wind and snow begun. He had no idea what to do.

For a moment he contemplated to scream for help, but who would hear him out here with this howling wind? He tried anyway and found that he barely made a sound, his voice only a distant whispering even to his own ears. Oh, I’m going to die here, he thought, no one will ever find me. That thought made him shiver even more violently than he already did and hot burning tears started to gather in the corners of his eyes. They were long frozen on his cheeks before they could reach his chin.

Nonetheless he took off his gloves, tried to wipe the weird sensation away but his face and hands only felt cold and numb. Instead he lowered his fingers to his lips, tried to warm them with his breath but even breathing felt more and more painful and exhausting by now, let alone putting one feet in front of the other.

Finally he tripped. There hadn’t even been a stone or a branch, just his frozen clumsy feet that felt so heavy. Without much of a sound he fell into the deep cold snow. Absently he tried to blink the snow out of his eyes, not that he would have seen much anyway. At first he weakly tried to push himself back up but his whole body felt so horribly heavy and tired. Oh yes, he was tired, so very tired. Maybe he just needed to rest for a moment. It all didn’t really seem that bad anymore now that he lay here in the soft white snow. It felt strangely warm really. For a moment he even thought he heard a voice calling out his name. Saw a silhouette between the dancing snowflakes. A hand stretched out towards him.

With a peaceful smile on his face his eyelids drooped and his mind faded to darkness.

***

How long was he gone now?, Rael wondered as they paced about the room, around the big table with all the maps, back and forth between the roaring fireplace and the window facing south.

For the third time now they pulled up their collar and stepped out into the empty frozen courtyard. Everyone at Camp Dragonhead who wasn’t on guard duty had been clever enough to seek shelter from the storm indoors and as Rael worriedly looked towards the gate, it‘s silhouette barely visible against the myriad of snowflakes, they wondered if Haurchefant’s decision to leave in search for A’viloh on his own had been a good one. Maybe something had happened to him.

Should they follow him?

No, they would get lost without a doubt…

Should they alarm the whole camp about their commander’s absence?

But what should the soldiers do about this?

Helplessly Rael raised their face to the sky but all there was were dark storm clouds and more questions they couldn’t answer. There was nothing to guide them, to tell them what to do. No gods, no teacher, no whispers, no vision. Nothing at all. Rael, who always knew what to do or at least had an educated guess about what might prove helpful, never felt that useless before.

Almost violently they pressed their eyes shut and tried to summon up the answers they needed by sheer force of will. A lonely figure at which the wind tore mercilessly. Determined but also futile. Forcing any sign to reveal itself to them had never worked before and neither did it now. There simply was nothing they could do.

Why haven’t I seen this coming?

Eyes still closed they started to shiver, fighting against the burning sensation building behind their eyelids. Their mouth twitched no matter how tightly they pressed their lips shut. Instead they breathed through their nose, heavy shaky breaths which turned to white clouds in the air.

Then a horn blared above. Rael flinched and realised that a guard on the fortification wall had given a signal. They didn’t know what it meant and still Rael fixed their eyes on the barely visible gateway, hoping, praying to whatever was willing to listen. Please, let them be safe.

At first Rael feared they were imagining it but then clearly something moved between the sea of snowflakes. A dark form, something - no, someone was coming closer. Rael almost stopped breathing. Once they realised it was truly Haurchefant on his chocobo, they almost fell to their knees in relief.

Only as Haurchefant carefully climbed off of his chocobo, Rael saw that he wasn’t wearing his coat anymore. Instead he had held it in place bundled up on the saddle in front of him, to make sure it didn’t fall down and also keeping it close to himself for warmth. As he lifted that small bundle into his arms and slowly stepped towards them Rael couldn’t stifle a sob any longer and desperately ran towards him.

A’vi!

Wrapped in the way too large piece of clothing was the small Miqo’te, entirely motionless. His skin so pale and cold. Frantically Rael searched for a sign of life - a sound, a movement, a pulse - but there was none. He looked like a dead thing and that fact smashed Rael’s heart to a million little pieces.

It had been too late. They had lost him.

***

Darkness. Endless and suffocating.

A moment ago he thought there had been light.

There had been snow too.

No…

Dark angry water. Hissing like the wind.

A thunderstorm. Or a blizzard.

But there had been sun too, right? Once. Warm pleasant sunlight. Hot bright sand.

Yes, it had been warm. But why was he feeling so cold then?

Why had the sun left him all alone in this cold, cold darkness?

Suddenly he heard a voice calling his name.

It sounded so far away and then suddenly so close. So worried.

He couldn’t quite remember if he knew it but it felt friendly. It felt warm and welcoming.

It felt safe. He could rest now.

***

When Haurchefant had arrived back at Camp Dragonhead cradling poor A‘viloh in his arms, the Miqo’te had no noticeable breathing or pulse at all. He had looked like a corpse and Rael had already feared he was dead. Nonetheless Haurchefant had hurriedly brought him indoors. Loudly he had yelled orders left and right and suddenly the whole camp was in turmoil. In fact it was still early morning and it only had been this sudden unexpected ruckus that had awoken Tataru and Alphinaud as footsteps and loud voices rushed past their bedrooms. They watched puzzled as the servants quickly brought lots of blankets as well as warm dry clothes to replace A’viloh’s frozen ones and also wood for the fireplace and warming pans for his bed.

Immediately Rael had begun to work. For a few terrifying moments they had sat there in silent focus trying to find a sign of life from A‘viloh. Heartbeat, breathing, aether. Nothing… nothing… nothing… then: a shy heartbeat after all. So slow, so weak, easy to miss. But it was still there and Rael refused to let it vanish! They never had to heal a patient with hypothermia before and only could guess what to do exactly. It wasn’t a open wound they could close or a poison they could extract. Instead all they could do was use their magic to steady his heartbeat and help slowly warm his body up.

Both, Tataru and Alphinaud, stood there by the door speechlessly staring in shock, not knowing or understanding what had happened. They saw Rael’s face and didn’t dare to ask either. Not until Haurchefant reappeared. The servants had urged him to change into dry, warmer clothes too and now he returned pressing warm drinks into the helpless spectators hands and shooing them off, back to their rooms, against quiet protest.

“Please, the healer will arrive any moment now. There is nothing you can do in the meantime. I promise I have you informed at once if anything changes.“

Bleakly Rael noticed that his choice of words didn’t specify if this would be a change for better or for worse. A few moments later the healer, torn from his sleep on Haurchefant’s demand, arrived but he also left rather quickly again.

Rael had only let this ishgardian doctor close to A’viloh because they had hoped that maybe he knew better how to help him than they did considering he needed to have more experience with cases like this. But the Elezen hadn’t done much at all and only claimed that the poor Miqo’te’s life now lay in Halone’s hands. Rael had sharply laughed at this statement but it had really sounded more like a menacing bark. Why did this sharlatan bother to come here at all? Once again they had to do everything by themself if they wanted it done properly.

Just to make sure, they tried every kind of healing magic they could think of hoping that maybe some of it would help, even the ancient spells his mother and the oracle had taught them. When no immediate response was visible - had they really expected one? - they kept on monitoring A’viloh’s heartbeat as well as his still very thin aether and supported both as good as they could using their own.

For hours they sat there silently working their magic, carefully trying to ration their own power reserves as long as possible. They were almost exhausted, almost out of aether themself. Their fingers were shaking and their eyelids felt heavy. It wasn’t healthy and they knew they couldn’t do this much longer.

But at least it seemed to work. For a short happy moment they thought everything would be fine again.

Then the fever hit.

***

The darkness scared him.

It was cold and wet and inescapable.

The wind turned to howls of wild animals and these again soon to laughs and mockery.

Their hungry fangs and claws reached for him in the darkness. Trying to pull him down.

He tried to run but he wasn’t moving at all.

He tried to shake off the claws digging into his skin but their grip was too strong.

He tried to scream but couldn’t make a sound.

Then with a sudden jolt he was falling. A long horrible fall through infinite darkness.

When he finally hit the ground he was in the cold, freezing snow again.

Just that it didn’t feel cold at all anymore. But soft and warm.

There was that voice again, calling his name.

An unfamiliar voice.

No, that wasn’t true. He knew this voice.

It was the only voice he ever wanted to remember.

If he ever realised he forgot this sound, the pain would destroy him.

Between the veil of snow there was a hand reaching out for him. A worried face.

Arms holding him tight. Keeping him warm.

So familiar eyes of molten gold.

A loving smile.

His favourite thing in the world.

Oh! Now he remembered!

He understood. At last, no miracle to save him.

Finally…

…

Laqa.

***

„Laqa…“

Shocked Rael looked up from the hand they carefully held between their own.

Haurchefant couldn’t know the meaning of this feverish mumbling but Rael did and it terrified them, the panic plainly visible on their face.

„The healer warned us that the fever might make him hallucinate...“ the elezen offered in an attempt to console them.

„I know that!“, Rael snapped harshly.

It wasn’t fair but they had no nerve to hear things that were plainly visible. After the fever had appeared Haurchefant had called for the ishgardian doctor again. At least this time he had offered a potion that was supposed to lower A’viloh’s fever. So far it hadn’t shown any effect though. But that wasn’t Haurchefant’s fault.

„I am sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you…“

The Elezen shook his head. „I know, my friend. You’re tired. Don’t you think it would be better to rest for a while?“

„No, I’m fine. I will stay.“ It did sound hollow even to them.

„You know, you did everything you could, right?“, Haurchefant asked while putting a hand on Rael’s shoulder and Rael hated how it almost sounded like they had lost this fight already.

„I know… Would you mind leaving me alone for a while?“ Hopefully that hadn’t sounded rude again.

He hesitated, then he nodded slowly. „No more magic though, alright? I don’t want you to collapse too.“

Rael just shrugged. It wasn’t the answer Haurchefant had wanted but he left anyway. With a heavy sigh they returned their gaze to A’viloh’s pale face as he mumbled something unintelligible.

Oh, why hadn’t they noticed he was planning something? Where had they gone wrong?

Probably when A’viloh’s smile had fooled them into thinking that he was alright. As if a few nice words and some hot chocolate could fix everything that was wrong. Rael had wanted to believe it but should have known better. No matter how much they had told themself that he was stronger now, braver, healthier… mostly he seemed fine and then suddenly tiny things could still throw him off course. It was a tricky thing for Rael to assess how A‘viloh would react sometimes. Like a broken mug that had been kitted. There were bits and pieces that were still alright or had healed fairly good, the damage almost invisible, and then there were the spots were all that kept the ragged shards together was too much glue, unevenly filling the wounds. Ugly and weak, easily broken apart again. On his really bad days Rael still feared that there were some small pieces of him irrevocably lost, never to be found again, sunken to the bottom of the sea and impossible to replace.

Barely audible, like a knife to Rael’s heart, the poor fever-dreaming Miqo’te whispered, „I‘ve missed you so much, Laqa.“

„No!“, Rael yelled almost angrily and threw themself at A’viloh’s chest protectively. „You can’t have him yet!“

It was ridiculous! Who were they even talking to? Instead they turned their pleading gaze to the Miqo’te’s feverish face.

„Please, A‘vi! Tell him that he has to wait a little longer… please… he would want you to live your life first, wouldn’t he?“

Of course A'viloh didn’t answer.

Desperately Rael buried their face in the Miqo’te’s shirt and started to sob. „Please don’t die. I cannot do this without you…“

***

The sea washed around his feet, then retreated again with a slight pull.

He couldn’t care less.

Everything he cared about was right here with him.

Arms as warm and comforting as the late afternoon sunlight wrapped tightly around him.

With his eyes closed, his head rested between Laqa’s shoulder and neck, he felt safe and at peace. He felt at home.

When had he last felt that way?

It didn’t matter anymore.

He would never have to let go of him again.

Vi…

this so familiar voice whispered as he pressed a kiss into his hair.

Slowly Laqa loosened his embrace and instead cupped A’viloh’s face gently with both of his hands.

It is time, Vi…

For a moment they just looked at each other, smiling, before their lips met halfway for a long kiss.

Finally Laqa pulled back a little and immediately A’viloh missed him again.

This hadn’t been enough. It would never be.

With a smile on his face Laqa rested his forehead against A’viloh’s.

You have to go now.

***

For days A‘viloh wandered between sleep and death, two things that sometimes looked horribly similar like only siblings could.

The fever had ebbed away and risen again but never completely left him alone.

Neither had Rael.

Day and night they had remained by A’viloh’s bedside, refusing to leave unless it was really necessary.

Alphinaud had brought food and water for them both and sometimes even Tataru had joined them for breakfast or for dinner. Every now and then Lord Haurchefant had brought tea as well. All of them had tried to cheer Rael up and also tried to convince them to get some rest. Both very unsuccessfully. Although they appreciated the effort.

When they were alone Rael talked to A’viloh. They felt a little crazy for this because they didn’t know if A‘vi was hearing any of this at all but still… they sat down on the bed beside him, held his hand in theirs and told him everything they had ever wanted to tell him.

How much they admired him for the person he was, despite everything. How much they had enjoyed traveling with him and also how much of the world they still hoped to show him. All the places Rael had visited on their journey and thought A‘vi would love. They told him how much they wished they could show him Golmore. They sang him the lullabies their mother used to sing for them and told him everything about their home and also about themself. About all the qualities they lacked and he possessed. About his kindness and how he so easily won over the hearts of everyone he met. About how Rael finally understood what it felt like to be as terrified as him. The fear and the guilt. How sorry they were for not seeing that he hadn’t been okay.

The thought that maybe against all of their efforts A'viloh simply didnt want to wake up again almost made them cry once more. In the end Rael lay there beside him with their head rested on A‘viloh’s chest. His heartbeat the only solace for their sorrow, a lullaby for their troubled mind, their tired eyelids almost closed.

„Wake up, A‘vi… Please. Just say something…“, they whispered a final plea.

Apart from the crackle of the fireplace and the wind rattling at the window the room was silent.

Almost asleep suddenly a quiet raspy sound startled them.

„…Rael?“

In surprise the viera shot up and indeed saw tired green eyes slowly squinting at them.

„What are you doing here?“, A‘viloh‘s voice asked hoarsely.

„A‘vi!“, Rael exclaimed in disbelieve and realised how stupid this must look. Hurriedly they jumped up, pretending to get him some water to hide how embarrassed they were. „How are you feeling? Does anything hurt? Here! You should drink something! I‘ll go and ask for some soup too, you really need to -“

A’viloh chuckled and made them stop. Confused Rael turned around and looked at him cheekily grinning.

„What?“, they blurted out awkwardly.

The Miqo'te shook his head. „Nothing… Soup would be great, I think I am starving… and also thank you for worrying about me.“

„You are such an idiot, you know that?“, Rael asked while crossing their arms in front of their chest and staring at him in the best imitation of anger they could pull off.

A’viloh just laughed. This time Rael was wary to trust it.

Oh, they would give him quite a lecture! It was a good thing he couldn’t run off in his condition. But first they would get some food.

[seventh-district]

several days and 15 thousand words later, i am relieved to report that the suffocating urge to Write Something has been sated and no longer has me in a chokehold