#he knew about her powers for rejection and planted the seed of doubt that she couldn't heal him

[rainbowberriesandcookies]

Pain is being an ulquihime shipper but having to block/avoid most of them because they are weirdly anti-Orihime, anti-bleach ending, or "anti how Kubo wrote Orihime" even though she's one of the most consistently and well-written female characters in Shounen as well as the fact that they try to make Ulquiorra care more about Orihime than he actually did in the manga or even god forbid try to say that Ulquiorra cared more about Orihime than Ichigo did.

[tatorthots]

— promise you’ll forget me

featured: liyue men x fem!reader

cw: generally gn but uses she/her (an itty bit), pet names, angst, hurt/comfort, a sliver of fluff, mention of character death, a little wholesome if you’re delusional enough (me)

synopsis: “When I die, promise me you’ll forget me. Erase me from your memories, bury me in the past, and live.”

a/n: my 3 babygirls + if I caused anyone any distress from this soft angst then let me know !! so I can continue wrecking havoc :)

── ꨄ︎ Xiao

Xiao stared at you, frozen in place and eyes widening as those words fell from your lips. He was in shock, completely baffled at how casually you uttered those words. As if they meant nothing… he grimly thought, As if you could ever mean nothing. His hands trembled, balling them into fists and digging his nails into the back of his palm. Had his silent affection, loving kisses, acts of devotion, and fierce protection not been testament enough to the impact you had on him? Had you not realized that you wielded the same amount of power over him as his previous master had with his true name? The Yaksha was almost amazed at your ignorance. “How dare you speak so carelessly…” he growled. Xiao was already fully aware of the reality of your inevitable death; it’s a truth that even the Conquerer of Demons, himself, adamantly refuses to revisit. He was bitterly aware that your time in Teyvat — your days together — was on borrowed time compared to his. That’s just the fate of a human's life in comparison to an Adeptus. He knew that the day will come when he would be forced to confront the tragic cycle of life and death once again, and if only for the sake of his Archon, he’ll grit his teeth and face it when the time comes. But to ask him to forget you, to erase you from his memories? You, who he cherishes most of all. You, who stealthily slithered into his heart and made a home in the remnants of his damned soul. You, who he foolishly fell in love with. There was no force in this wretched world that could ever submit him to abandon the little joy he was given in his life. And to ask that of him was to condemn him to a far crueler fate than that of the karmic debt he harbors on his shoulders.

Glowering at the wooden floorboards of the Wangshu Inn, Xiaos piercing eyes flickered up at you. “Do not make such absurd requests of me again.” He sneered. Flinching in surprise, you questioningly glanced at your lover. Shifting your gaze down, you noticed the deathly grip he held on the patio's railing and the cracking lines spreading beneath his fingertips. “Xiao… wait, I didn’t mean to—“ but your words were cut short by the solemn glint in his yellow stare. “There are many things I struggle to comprehend about you mortals, so tell me,” attentively, your ears perked up and your breathing paused as he spoke, “could you forget me so easily if I asked you to? Is your affection for me simply…” biting the inside of his cheek, his expression shifted to one of sorrowful hesitation, “temporary?” Your entire body tensed. Xiao had made a bad habit of hiding his less ‘acceptable’ emotions in an attempt to not burden you — no matter how many times you reassured him — so to glimpse at that fragile vulnerability and find the newly seed of doubt you had planted, it made your heart wrench in your chest. You blinked a few times as each flutter of your lashes only gathered more and more wet droplets onto them. “No! Xiao! I would ne-.. ver….” and that’s when you realized the weight of what you had asked him. Rejected.. I made him feel rejected, You internally groaned. Sighing you carefully took a few steps towards him, “Listen to me,” you softly spoke, “I don’t want you to live in mourning after I pass. You don’t deserve that, Xiao,” and his eyes widened, “I want you to be happy,” softening your gaze, you continued, “I want you to continue enjoying the gifts life brings, no matter how big or small they might be!” Standing in front of him, you reached a hand out to gently caress his cheek and dotingly smiled when he instinctively leaned into your touch. “I want you to keep spending time with humans, and one day you may even find new companions who’ll add to your happiness.” Nonsense, he thought. The Adeptus revers you almost as highly as his Archon and you think some feeble companions could ever compare? Xiao placed his hand atop yours and gingerly kissed your palm. His eyes reflected a tender intensity as he peered down at you, “Our connection is too strong, y/n.” his arms wrapped protectively around you, holding you tightly as if he wasn’t careful enough you’d disappear and be gone forever. Xiao hovered his lips above yours as he rested his forehead on you, and closed his eyes, “No matter what challenges time brings, or what you, yourself, try to do to sever our bond,” pressing his lips on yours, he kissed you as he quietly whispered, “I will love you, always.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

417 years have gone by since Xiao last held you in his embrace. And although he was pleased he was able to offer you a long, happy and loving life, Xiao would be blatantly lying if he said he’d moved on from your death. And if not for your last — somewhat reasonable — request, he likely wouldn’t have intervened with the lives of mortals, or reluctantly accepted their friendship. If that was what you truly would’ve wanted for him then he’ll hold his complaints and trust your judgement. It was bittersweet, really. If you were still alive, he knew in his heart you’d be fascinated by these mortals' new technology and inventions; he wonders what you’d say of this new era. And he can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips as he thinks of how you’d fawn over these silly contraptions, There’s no doubt you’d be foolishly fascinated by such simple trinkets, he thinks, but archons what he wouldn’t do to see your eyes sparkle with wonder again. And although Teyvat has undergone infinite changes, there is but one acre of land that the Yaksha has ensured remains untouched by humans, Adeptus or demons alike. It was a sort of sanctuary for him. A place of refuge, meditation, reflection, and heartache; but above all, it was where Xiao would religiously visit to honor the love he had, and continues to have, for you — his one and only. The area was radiant, nothing less than one of Liyues hidden gems. The ground was vibrant with lush grass, lively wildlife, and blanketed with all your favorite flowers; flowers Xiao had helped you plant and nurture. What once started as your personal garden ended up flourishing with vines, plants and new ecosystems. It could honestly be described as a mini forest, and the Adeptus wonders if it’s prosperity is because of you. Either way, you would’ve loved it, and that thought alone was enough. Thinking back, Xiao couldn’t believe he was so ignorant. Initially, he thought the whole custom was silly when Morax first casually mentioned it one day. ‘Marriage, is a unity humans practice as well here in Teyvat. It is a unity between lovers — a ceremonial alliance, if you will.’ To him, the idea seemed pointless, but the thought never left his head since. He’s already submitted himself to you in every way, but if his Archon had advised marriage was also a custom between mortals then perhaps you would like to marry as well. So this sacred area is where you both wed. The beaming smile and buzzing excitement you showed that day was forever engraved in his memories. Xiao still keeps the silver ring you slid on his finger with him. Though as of recent centuries he hasn’t worn it as much in order to preserve its integrity, but sometimes, when he’s laying amidst the swaying grass and reminiscing of times gone past, he’ll slip it on and think of you. On rare occasions the Yaksha would even stage a performance, the way he used to when he danced beneath the moonlight as you watched in awe. Whether sunlight warms his skin, rain splashes on his hair and wets his clothes, or strong currents of the wind whistles loudly through the air, he’ll dance to the natural rhythm of Teyvat. A performance reserved only for you. Other times he’ll rest on a bed of soft moss as his honey eyes gaze at the starry sky till morning illuminates the world once more. Simply remembering the sound of your voice, your touch, your laugh, and he’ll wonder, wherever you are in this vast universe, if you think of him too.

── ꨄ︎ Zhongli

The sound of glass shattering echoed throughout the mountaintop of Mt. Aocang. The traditional, delicately crafted teacup Zhongli held was now shattered into pieces in the palm of his hand, and the tea previously filling it was now spilled all over the god's lap. Unaware that his sudden vise-like grip was to blame for its broken state. He saw your lips move and your body apprehensively patting his clothes dry with a cloth, but he couldn’t hear a thing. Zhongli simply stayed in place as his golden eyes stared at you. Yes, it’s true that the former Geo Archon has encountered countless tragic fates and lost several friends and close relationships to the erosion of time. And it’s only been recent, with the reawakening of Azhdaha, that he had to reluctantly reevaluate and reaccept his cursed fate of eternity until the last remnants of his body eroded back into the stones of old. Azhdaha reminded him his future was pitiful. Doomed to solidarity as punishment for being a God. It was for that exact reason that Zhongli heavily contemplated the idea of entering a relationship with a human for a very long time before officially committing to you. However, it was also through that slow-burn romance that an unexpected love blossomed. Its tender passion awoke a primal instinct that had long laid dormant in the depths of Morax’s innate desires — it caught the Archon, himself, off guard. The love of a God cannot be easily earned or discarded. It entails complete submission, adoration, and devotion. Then again, it might be the reason Zhongli wasn’t avoidant of the inevitable outcome of this relationship. He fully accepted the consequences of his decision if it meant enjoying just a moment of tranquility in your embrace. He’d be willing to endure a thousand years of heartache if it meant hearing your voice just once, and he’d suffer through thousands more if even to kiss the fabric that clung to your body.

Zhongli, blinked from his trance and looked down to see you patting his clothes dry with red fingertips and scathed palms from the burning hot tea. Swiftly, he took hold of your hands and took the cloth away from you. He felt a pang of guilt as he carefully cascaded his thumb across the searing flush of your warmed skin. “I do apologize, my love.” shifting his gaze up to you, he continued, “It seems that your request has taken me aback.” Tightening your hold on his hands, you knitted your brows in worry, “Oh.. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.” you pouted. Zhongli removed his gloves, and your attention trailed to the geo marks decorating his golden skin. So pretty, you thought. “There is no need to fret, darling.” His voice was deep and affectionate. An obvious difference compared to the usual somber and nonchalant tone he speaks with, and it made your heart flutter knowing it was only ever exposed to you. But then suddenly, his expression turned serious. “However, that request would be a breach of contract, and I simply, will not break it.” Your eyes widened for a moment before quirking an eyebrow up in question. You momentarily tilted your head in curiosity, and the Archon couldn’t help but feel his gaze soften, just a little, in response to your small habit. Fluttering your eyes on him, you asked, “What contract?” What contract? He silently mused, as if the answer itself was blatantly obvious — which to him, it was. Lowly chucking, he wrapped his large hand around your wrist and slipped his fingertips up to caress your palm. Raising your hand up to his lips, he languidly met your gaze with his adoring one. “If you do not recall, then allow me to remind you.” Closing his eyes, he placed a kiss on your fingertip, “I have sworn myself each time I touch your skin.” He placed a kiss on another, “Each time my mind had been desperately surrendered by thoughts of you.” Then another, fluttering his long lashes, he peered at you with half-lidded eyes as his pupils dilated to slits “In every moment our bodies intimately intertwine together amidst the heat of our love.” Gasping at his sudden confession, your heart sped up in a fervent fluster. He leaned in close, “I am bound to you, my love, for all eternity.” Zhongli kissed you once, and then twice. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you in, almost urging you to sit on his lap. Deepening the kiss the Geo Archon could only pray his kisses could hope to portray even a sliver of the love he has for you.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

And so a millennium has passed, he hums. 1,231 years to be exact. Since your passing, Zhongli counted each year that came and went. Placing an incense down on the shrine he built in your memory, the Archon kneeled before your golden statue and prayed — he’s not quite sure to who, and he’s not sure if there’s anyone listening, but if there is, he hopes it’s you. Today had been an unusual day given that he doesn’t normally visit your shrine so late in the evening, but no matter what he did it seemed like unforeseen circumstances kept getting in the way of his preplanned visit. And after several attempts of trying to untangle himself from piling responsibilities, he sighed and decided it was best to just visit you by the end of today no matter what or who dared get in his way. Which brings us to now. However, shortly after he started his peaceful meditation, he was disturbed by someone’s quiet shuffles behind him. Fluttering his eyes open, his sharp gaze glared in the direction the noise was coming from. Even though it’s location wasn’t necessarily private, this shrine was his personal alter of worship, a private haven, who the hell was foolish enough to intrude on its sacred premises? Snapping his head around, his menacing gaze immediately widened into one of pure shock. It surely.. can’t be..? He muttered in disbelief. “Oh! I’m sorry I-um- I didn’t realize someone was here!” The voice awkwardly spoke, and as they turned to leave, his lips moved before he could realize he was talking, “What’s your name?” Blinking in surprise, the woman sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck, “Ah. I’m h/n, heh.” Walking closer she carefully inspected the handsome man as he stared at her like she was some sort of ghost. “Is this your shrine?” Looking up at the statue she softly smiled, “I’ve been coming here for weeks.” she confessed, and Zhongli slowly stood from his position. It’s her. The depths of the dragons innate need for his mate had violently awoken from its slumber, and he felt the bond he mourned for centuries, suddenly call out to each and every one of his senses. It’s her. Your reincarnation. Lighting her own stick of incense and bowing, the woman — you — glanced back at him, “I found this place by accident, and I bring my own incense to pay my respects as well. But honestly, I don’t know why I come here.” You chuckled. “Maybe it’s because her statue looks similar to me, or maybe … it’s because I can’t help but feel like this place calls to me.” Shaking your head, you bashfully looked away, “Sounds crazy, right?” “No.. no, not at all….” Softening his gaze, he offered a smile. There’s no mistaking it. I can sense her soul, years of longing and heartache clutched his heart, I could recognize it anywhere. And so the both of you spent the evening chatting away over tea the man you came to know as ‘Zhongli’ had prepared, and when nighttime shadowed the streets you both politely took your leaves. Zhongli deeply considered whether or not he should look for you again, but he soon realized he couldn’t bring himself to disrupt the new life you had built — even if it didn’t include him. He told himself he was happy, satisfied knowing your soul had returned even if every cell in his body painfully yearned to be with his lover again. Being given the opportunity to drink tea with you should be privilege enough. It wasn’t until you visited the shrine early one morning that you finally found him. After a brief catch-up, he noticed you nervously shifting, “Is something the matter?” He worriedly asked. With a deep breathe you confessed what’d been on your mind since your last encounter. “Have we met before?” You began, and his entire body froze, “I know this might seem strange but…” and unconsciously his body leaned in closer as his primal instincts begged him to caress your skin once more, but he forced himself rooted. Until you uttered a single sentence and momentarily tilted your head in curiosity that he felt his heart struck, and daresay, even gave the god hope. “I can’t help but feel like…. I’ve met you before, a long time ago.”

── ꨄ︎ Childe

Strumming his fingertips, Childe hummed in contemplation. He’s well aware of the repercussions that come with being 11th of the Fatui Harbingers, and he’s hyper-aware of the vile leverage his enemies would try to obtain when discovering the infamous Harbinger has taken a lover. However, the thing about Childe is that he actually openly welcomes his enemies to try to even get remotely near you. Honestly, your request is just straight-up hilarious to him. But he supposes he can’t blame you. After all, you haven’t a clue of the extent your lover has and, even as you ask, is taking to ensure your safety. It’s stressful, really, but the man loves challenges — “Let them come, let them ALL come!” He manically laughs, before lowering his head, “I’ll kill them all where they stand.” he snarls. Every loud and flamboyant confession, every playful kiss, every subtle caress of your skin, and each lingering touch holds an ulterior motive aside from just affection. It’s a warning. But you never noticed, have you? While you’re pushing him away in a flustered daze, you don’t notice how his cheeky smile and crescent eyes fall the second you turn in a huff and his gaze narrows to a sinister glare — directly locking eyes with the spies creeping atop rooftops. How he never directly answers your questions when he disappears for a few minutes only to return scathed and sometimes even bleeding. Brushing away your worry with a tender smile as he pinches your cheek, “Heh, don’t worry so much!” He’ll coo. Your request isn’t even an option. Childe would die for you, kill for you, live for you. He’ll do whatever it takes to stand above a pile of bloody corpses if only to force them to bow before you. You, the promised ruler of the world he’ll craft. And should you fall, he would build his empire on the blood of millions just to keep his promise.

Childes eyes glimmered in amusement as he threw his head back and laughed. “Hahah—!! You really do have an active imagination babe!” Playfully ruffling your hair, he chuckled, “C’mon now, don’t say such nonsense.” His lips curled into a beaming smile, but you could tell by the edge laced in his words that he meant what he said. Huffing, you smacked his hand away, “I’m not joking, Ajax!” Sighing, you turned away in embarrassment, “I’m being…. I’m being serious, alright?” Pausing, Childe furrowed his brows, “You’re serious?” Rolling your eyes, you marched away feeling flustered and annoyed by your lover's reaction, “Yes! I’m being serious!” Normally, the incredulous stare Childe gave you would’ve made you tease him in any other situation, but as of now it only added to the searing burn on your cheeks. Following behind you, he grabbed your arm to stop you and delicately tugged you to look at him. “Hey, what are you saying?” Turning around, you were met with narrowed blue eyes and a frown, “Are you calling me weak?” And as much as you wanted to stay mad at him, you couldn’t help but crack a smile at his accusatory tone and pouty lips. Intertwining your fingers with his you stepped toward him until your face was only inches away from his pretty glaring eyes. Running your fingertips against his jaw, you lightly traced them across his freckled skin until you reached his messy, orange hair, “The only thing I think you are is dumb.” You lovingly purred. Scoffing he averted his gaze from yours. “Listen, Ajax,” you started, “I know you worry about me, and yes, even though you’re the strongest man I know—“ “Ever will know.” He corrected. Giggling you flicked his forehead, “Ever will know~” you repeated, before you cleared your throat and steeled your gaze, “If I do pass… promise me you’ll live for yourself, okay? Take care of yourself, and no matter what, don’t let my memory hold you back.” Hold me back? He chuckled. Gently placing both hands on your cheeks, he guided your head to fully face him, “Your life makes me feel alive, y/n, and if the day comes — which it won’t,” he sternly emphasized, “your memory will only serve as the reason I fight to survive.” Pulling you into his protective embrace he buried his face in your soft locks, “I’ll keep you safe.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

720 days. That’s 720 archon-forsaken days, and sleepless nights. It was clear to all, that a part of Childe never quite recovered the day he found your lifeless body lying alongside the jagged edges of stone slabs resting beneath a mountain cliff side. The image of your body lying still as a pool of your blood gushed from your mutilated wounds onto the unforgiving surface of the rocks became a memory deeply embedded in the Harbingers mind. Then again, perhaps it wasn’t something inside him that had shattered, but instead completely disappeared. Even now, he still feels likes he’s quietly being haunted by the agonizing screams he cried and tears that he endlessly shed as he held your bloody corpse in his possessive and shaky embrace. However, all of that paled in comparison to the unsettling numbness that nestled within his bones and tainted his heart when he caught sight of the item that dropped from your hand as he cradled you. It was mocking. Taunting, even. “The pendant…” he spoke, barely above a whisper. She protected.. the pendant I gave her? His azure stare darkened as the very last of his compassion died right there and then. Now they only harbored hatred and desolation. Reaching to pick up the pendant, Childe carefully brushed the blood staining it with his gloved thumb. This was the gold entwined, jade pendant he had gifted you during the firework showcase of your first Lantern Rite with him. It was intended as a good luck token — a marker of sorts. He promised you that so long as you held this pendant, he would always come to protect you; your lover vowed this. His breath trembled, and his jaw clenched as he glared at it with blurry eyes. He couldn’t help but wonder, Was she waiting for me, choking out a sob his fingers combed through your hair as he rested his forehead on yours and salty tears dripped down your cheek, to protect her? And that thought alone was enough to sever the remaining domestic threads of his heart. For the next two years, Childe spent every waking moment tracking your killer. His obsession only further manifested as time went by. Even his work as a Fatui Harbinger strained, yet none were brave enough to tell him otherwise. Either because of fear, or because the Tsaritsa ordered it so. During that time there were those who argued that Childe had gone on a blind rampage, and others argued the Harbinger became the vengeful embodiment of a man of focus, commitment, and sheer will. To be honest? Neither were completely right or wrong. He never hurt bystanders, yet he never hesitated slaughtering anyone who got in his way. As for those foolish enough to mislead him or hold information? Well, they suffered a fate worse than death. It wasn’t until he found himself deep within the shadowy crevices of the chasm that he finally met your murderer. It was a wretched demon that had ripped you away from him, a crime even death was too good for. The accumulated rage of a fallen God was nothing compared to the murderous hatred he harbored. In the end, Childe came victorious — albeit at the cost of his own life. Sliding against weathered stone, he sat down and aimlessly stared at the curvatures of the chasm. “Seems I couldn’t keep my promise, huh?” He chuckled, “Don’t be too mad at me.” Wincing in pain, he slipped out the pendent he gifted you from his Foul Legacy’s armor as he felt his eyelids grow heavy. Kissing it’s cold exterior, he took a breathy sigh, “Please, wait for me,” fluttering his eyes shut, a line of blood dribbled from his lips as he smiled, “just a little…. longer..”

side note!: new format ! let’s goooooooooo

Like this fic? Consider reblogging, interacting, and commenting! It’s always appreciated!! ᰔ

[nanomooselet]

My Brother's Keeper (V)

This whole memory retrieval/assimilation scene is interesting for a number of reasons (putting aside the continuous wails of agony emitted watching it; I know I discuss it calmly, but that's because I'm a wizard I compartmentalise/modulate my tone in text. Hooray for incomplete degrees).

In the score, this bit is called "The Memory World of Knives" - these are Knives's memories, ones that he can share with Vash for whatever reason. By that token, then, it's how you can figure out which incidents Knives has direct knowledge of and involvement in.

He remembers the blood-soaked room of withered Plants, of course. Doubt he'll ever forget it. Not because of the Last Run, but because it's when Vash turned on him and their confrontation was put on pause - up until now.

Vash fleeing the SEEDs wreckage in ep 1/8 then entering the Plant room in ep 9, Knives withdrawing, then showing up at Jeneora Rock in ep 3, then finally Vash entering Knives's piano room in July at the end of ep 10, and the confrontation/manipulation/awakening/battle over 11 and 12. It's all a single argument/fight split into parts, separated by over a century.

Funny that the only thing Knives seems to truly regret about it is cutting off Vash's arm. Maybe… maybe because it's the one wound even he can't lie to himself about inflicting. I wonder, does he believe it was his one mistake? If he'd found another way, Vash wouldn't have stuck a gun in his face? Which makes him trying to "fix" it being what clues Vash in that he's being lied to some sublime irony. Vash doesn't trust a world where his brother never hurt him.

Anyway, Knives was obviously there in person to destroy Jeneora Rock, so he remembers that. Knives definitely intended Rosa's rejection to happen when he left her alive (interesting that he only uses her voice, not her appearance. This man has a problem with women) and he would have learned about Tonis's injuries from Zazie via the cage of bug-Worms.

Then comes the crashed ships and the vanishing reporters. Roberto and Meryl don't do anything but stand there looking blank, and that's because Knives doesn't have anything to do with them. He doesn't care to learn what they mean to Vash, so he doesn't bother to twist it. He goes for “oh they'd hate you if they knew about what you've done”, and as Vash's shame makes him vulnerable, he rips them out of Vash's head. That's them disposed of and he doesn't think about them again. (More fool him.)

The guilt that Knives planted in Vash is his primary weapon. Remember that it was his guilt that made Vash want to die in the wake of the Fall. Knives is using it to chip away at his will to resist; every time Vash is reminded of it, he reels and his defences weaken.

Similarly, it's why we don't see that much of Rem and nothing of her post-Tesla except her running into the fire. What we do see of her makes her look rather one-dimensionally nice, well-meaning but suspiciously secretive, and Vash food-obsessed, dorky, clingy, insecure and oblivious. Meanwhile Nai is very clever and perceptive and handsome and perfect and amazing with his super cool powers, just like Rem said. But she didn't actually mean anything to him.

It's conspicuous that he also doesn't actually talk at all about poor Tesla and tries to dismiss her significance ("she was but a grain of sand in the desert of their misdeeds" is a banger line, by the way; the English localisation is always excellent but goes off as the series draws to its climax, and it don't stop 'til the credits roll on the finale). These are the rare points you can find honesty in anything Knives says: via what he omits.

You have to keep in mind throughout this entire sequence that besides the geranium petals and Vash cuddling Rem in the fields of geraniums, Knives is in control. This is his world, and these are his memories that he's using to infiltrate and tear Vash's memories apart. It's not objective - there's no context, for one - nor is it complete. Vash's perspective is absent.

It's actually a bit surprising how rarely Vash's voice comes through in the series. From what I can tell it's mostly Knives's perspective that's assumed.

But oh yes, Knives knows all about the Punisher. He built the Eye of Michael, after all, and Dr. Conrad works for him. Rollo crying out to Vash for salvation that he never received probably came from Dr. Conrad, as well as that it was Wolfwood in the end who killed Monev.

And here we are at last. The dreadful cost and hidden purpose I mentioned all the way back in Part I comes due. Wolfwood's purpose, the poison lacing Knives's helpful gift. He's the viral shell carrying Knives's infection. Because Vash opened his heart to Wolfwood as a friend, he also opened it to Knives.

And so, from the inside, Knives begins inexorably to devour his brother alive.

Knives-the-person wearing the Punisher's face to fire Punisher-the-weapon and kill Rollo/Tonis, the child Vash couldn't save, is his most perfectly constructed and vile feat of manipulation below I did it all for you./Everything I did was for you. It has an almost perversely admirable precision.

Silly Vash. Did he think he'd made a friend in the Punisher? Brought out the goodness in him? The Punisher is a monster, a killer, a weapon and what's more, one who was always being wielded by Knives. He betrayed you; he isn't a good man and he'll never change because humanity never learns. Just like Knives told Vash all those years ago. Was it really "Wolfwood" who Vash loved, or was it only the part of him that was shaped by his real brother? (It's the former because Vash clocked him from the start and could tell Wolfwood never wanted to be the Punisher, but even if Knives wasn't gleefully monologuing he'd never hear it. I hate how much he's enjoying this.)

Everywhere you turn, Vash, and no matter far it is you run, I'll be here for you because I love you. (I won't let you get away.)

How foolish you are, little brother, to have your hopes kindled because you "saved" a monster. One only lives if another dies - and a monster would rather die. You should let it happen. It's a necessary sacrifice. It's mercy. Death is a wonderful thing. (Death is a mercy Tesla never received. And perhaps still hasn't.)

You're too weak to give it to them. That's why they'll never love you as I do. You make the false promise that is hope for salvation, and inevitably you fail to fulfil it, and they will always turn upon you in their despair. (I am the only one who will protect you.)

There is a single promise that you can always keep. Your real purpose. The reason you exist. What a weapon is for. Have mercy. I will wield you. You need not continue to suffer. Don't fight. Submit. Give yourself to me. Let go. Unleash your power.

By the way, literally every single one of the things he's using to heap blame on Vash is Knives's fucking fault and he is the worst brother ever of all time forever and ever amen. And a liar. Knives can never forgive humanity, he says, because only he loves Vash enough to protect him from humanity. Even a human's love, he says, is a leash; contingent upon Vash's charm and usefulness and indistinguishable from hatred...

Knives either lives on opposite planet or he's secretly human.

And still. And yet.

I pity him.

(Okay. We're in the home stretch now, guys - and believe me, I deeply appreciate your support - but you might want to brace yourself.)

(Part I)

(Part II)

(Part III)

(Part IV)

(Part VI)

(Part VII)

[evillittlebirdie]

The Lies We Want To Believe

Inspired by Daggers of the Mirror by ArtsyBecca.

Daggers of the Mirror is such a fantastic work of fiction. Please go read it. Also, we hold these truths to be self-evident. Gale is a chubby, indulgent bunny Gale is insecure about the aforementioned indulgence Gale uses a glamor spell.

There were few pleasantries in the world more pure than being in love.

At first, Gale was happy to find an educated, kindred spirit in Elisabeth. As slender and graceful as a willow, her body betrayed the amount of force Elisabeth could deliver with a single spell. He couldn't help but find Elisabeth cute when she engrossed herself in a book. Even if the book was found off a corpse or had a molded cover, Elisabeth struggled to let it go. She hoarded magical ingredients and flowers. Lavender was her favorite flower. When Gale offered to show Elisabeth his connection to the Weave, he knew he was planting a seed that could only be nurtured by Elisabeth's hand. He did not dare to think she would reciprocate. It was foolish to hope that guided him. But Elisabeth did return his interest. And even more.

Gale felt like a young man when he walked hand in hand with Elisabeth. Chaste kisses brought a blush to his cheeks every time. They made love in the Weave and physically. Elisabeth not only defended him against Mystra but empowered him. And not least of all, Tara absolutely adored Elisabeth. 

It was not all one-sided adoration. Elisabeth utilized Gale as her confidant. Gale could feel his heart skip a beat whenever Elisabeth asked for his input. 

Gale remembered entering the Gauntlet of Shar and Elisabeth suddenly freezing. She could not even talk or speak. Once Gale eliminated the possibility of enchantment or poison, Elisbath finally lifted her hand and pointed. It was the rats surrounding one of the alters to Shar. 

Later that night, Elisabeth shared with him her humble beginnings as a street urchin. She shared the days of hunger and sleeping in alleyways. She remembered waking up to vermin running through her hair and nibbling at her toes. Once Elisabeth revealed her fear of rats, she told him everything about her life. Gale held her as she shared finding a true family once she attended a school of magic; as she confessed falling in love with an older female sorcerer who let her feelings down easily; and as she revealed her hidden doubts about her leadership. 

After that long night, Gale and Elisabeth were closer than ever before.

Despite all of his misgivings and doubts, Gale admitted one last secret to Elisabeth. Gale brought her into his tent (or more aptly,  their  tent. It had been weeks since he slept alone). He twisted a plain silver ring on his right hand. He prefaced the action with an apology. Avoiding Elisabeth's confused expression, Gale pulled off his ring. Gale had utilized the glamor ring for years, especially since his age began to show. Without the glamor, his true body stood in front of Elisabeth. His hair was naturally grayer, his beard more rugged, and more noticeably, his true frame was nearly forty pounds heavier. He always had a weakness for rich food and decadent pastries. He had a penchant for snacking when he was studying. And the year he spent isolated in his tower did very little to help with keeping slim.

"I'll never take the ring off again. I just wanted you to know who you were truly with," Gale confessed, keeping his eyes away from her face. He couldn't bear to see her disgust. 

Instead of disdain or even polite rejection, Elisabeth just reached in and embraced Gale tightly. She buried her face in his chest and pleaded, "Wear it outside if it makes you feel comfortable, but please do not hide yourself from me."

Gale could have wept with joy. He had a beautiful, powerful woman who accepted him. She didn't need him to be a god. She didn't want him to hide his body. They shared the same interests, desires, and emotions. They were in love and nothing could tear them apart. 

Gale had to find a way to stabilize the Netherese orb and defeat the Absolute. Once the world breathed easy, he could begin the proper happily ever after. Wedding bells, cake, and flowers inclusive.

***

"Fantastic work today, soldier," Karlach praised, clapping her hand on Elisabeth's shoulder. 

Astarion rolled his eyes, "Yes, yes, praise the woman that hid back safely on a high ledge. Not the man who saved you from some brute bashing you in the skull," he feigned dismay, shaking his head in response.

"Oh, don't worry, I have full intentions on properly recognizing your efforts, pretty boy," Karlach grinned, winking her eye at Astarion. The pale elf returned her smile with a smug smirk before the two wandered off on their own. No doubt, Astarion would be thoroughly 'appreciated' by the end of the night. 

Lae'zel silently rolled her eyes at the pair before waving Elisabeth off. "Go mount your mate as well. You deserve to revel in your victory today."

Elisabeth chuckled at her companions' antics. As much as she enjoyed her company, there was someone else she would rather spend time with. "Good night, Lae'zel," She ended. She walked over to Gale's tent, seeing the flaps closed. She smiled endearingly. Maybe Gale had taken her advice and was resting. 

Typically, Elisabeth didn't like leaving camp without Gale by her side. But Gale deserved the break. Elisabeth was going after Guild thugs. Her magic was enough to ensure solid victory. Sometimes, having more than one magic user was a hindrance rather than an advantage. 

Elisabeth approached the tent and pulled the tent flap up, "Gale, sweetheart, I'm here-" Elisabeth stopped herself. Horror paled her face at the sight of... herself .

'Elisabeth' was straddling a shirtless Gale on his bedroll. He was unglamored. His silver ring was cast aside on the ground rather than safely put up. His eyes were closed tight and he was facing away from 'Elisabeth'. The double had Gale's wrists pinned above his head with one hand. With her other hand, she had a blade to Gale's cheek. 

"What in the hells?" Elisabeth shouted before taking her staff off her back. At the sudden yell, Gale opened his eyes and turned to face the tent's entrance. In doing so, his cheek cut against the doppelganger's blade. 

"Oh, here she is. Brave, brave adventurer back to save the damsel in distress," The replica responded with a mad laugh. Elisabeth's skin crawled at hearing her voice mimicked. The doppelganger's head twisted violently. Familiar ruby-red tones and pale skin appeared. And a devious laugh left the mouth of none other than Orin the Red. She pulled the knife from Gale's skin and ran her tongue along the bloodied blade. "Such as shame...If you only gave me a few more minutes, I could have made a  proper  damsel of him..." She cackled, disappearing in a shimmer before Elisabeth could brutally hit her with her staff. 

"Fucking bitch! I'll kill her," Elisabeth shouted angrily. She tossed her staff to the ground in frustration before rushing to Gale's side. 

Gale, who had shown every vulnerability to her, was unable to meet her gaze. Elisabeth placed her finger on the cut along his cheek. "Gods, look at that nasty wound. I need to get Shadowheart." She wanted nothing more than to pull Gale to her chest and never let go. But instead, she forced herself to move away.

But Gale reached up to grab Elisabeth's wrist. "Wait...I need my ring..."

Frustrated, not with Gale but with the situation, Elisabeth tried to pull her wrist away, "I'm very sure Shadowheart isn't going to mind-"

"Not without my ring," Gale insisted, his eyes darting around the floor of the tent. 

Elisabeth's eyes fell to the ground where the ring had fallen by the table. She picked it up and handed it over to Gale. The wizard let go of Elisabeth's wrist and quickly placed his ring back on. Elisabeth didn't wait to see the transformation; she just rushed to Shadowheart's tent.

"What's all the commotion? I thought I heard battle," Lae'zel stated her greatsword at the ready despite being out of her armor. She rushed to Elisabeth's side before her gaze moved to Gale's tent.

Even Astarion and Karlach had taken notice. Their weapons were at the ready. And if the situation was less serious, Elisabeth would have pointed out Astarion's backward shirt. 

"It's Orin, it was Orin..." 

It was all a blur. Finding Shadowheart and taking her to Gale's tent. It was only a flesh wound. And with Shadowheart's immediate intervention, there would be no scarring. Gale responded negatively to Shadowheart's question about additional physical wounds. 

Gale was present, but he didn't seem quite aware. He would answer yes or no questions, but otherwise, he was silent. He sat on the bedroll and kept his eyes on his lap. Once Elisabeth discussed with the group about Orin and increased defenses, she was able to speak to Gale alone.

"Gale, what happened?" Elisabeth asked before sitting down on the bedroll next to him. Gale was propped up by several pillows, encased in blankets. By this time of night, Elisabeth would have expected him to remove his glamor ring. It stayed on. 

Gale turned to look at Elisabeth, to truly look at her. He grimaced before Elisabeth felt the gentle probing of his tadpole. He wanted to show her something. Elisabeth nodded before she allowed the connection to form. 

***

Gale wasn't necessarily 'clingy'. He just felt out of place when Elisabeth left him back at camp. But he didn't complain. He gave Elisabeth a goodbye kiss and sent her off with Astarion, Lae'zel, and Karlach at her side. 

After preparing dinner for the members at camp, Gale retired to his tent with a cup of tea, two cinnamon buns, and a book on arcane cultivation. It would be enough to keep his mind busy until Elisabeth returned. 

It was after sunset when the tent flap wavered. Gale looked up from his chair in the tent and smiled at the sight of Elisabeth ducking in. "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," Gale beamed, setting the book on his desk. He got out of the chair and moved in to greet his lover. 

"I could say the same thing about you. My darling little pet wizard with his treats," Elisabeth cooed, gesturing over to the plate next to his glass of wine. Only a quarter of a cinnamon roll remained.

Gale chuckled good-naturedly before taking her hands in his own. He pressed his lips against her knuckles before kissing her lips. "Idling the hours away until I could see you again, my sweet."

"You like this, don't you?" Elisabeth hummed sweetly. She took her hands from his. She turned around and loosened the flap of the tent, giving them privacy.

"I love seeing you come back alive," Gale agreed with a nod before sitting down. 

"It's more than that. You like relaxing here, studying in safety, indulging in luxury, while I fight for us..." Elisabeth temped with a sly smile on her face, moving closer to him. 

Gale flushed as Elisabeth swayed with each step. Of course, she was instigating the prerequisite to a sensual game. "Well, I cannot deny the allure." 

"No, you cannot resist can you?" Elisabeth whispered. She moved to him, setting her hands on his knees. She began to spread them and Gale felt his heart jump. "My sweet little Gale, my sweet little lapdog, ready for me after a long day of...violence..." Gale couldn't help but notice the desire in her tone regarding 'violence'. It should have caused confusion or at least hesitation. But then Elisabeth suddenly cupped Gale's manhood through his trousers. The sudden sensation provoked a jerking motion and a thorough distraction from Elisabeth's manner. 

"Ah...not quite ready yet," Elisabeth huffed, referring to Gale's softness. "No matter."

"You're eager," Gale pointed out with a chuckle. It wasn't uncommon. They had planned lovemaking ventures. But due to their lifestyle, they often engaged in frenzied trysts. "Just give me a moment, love." 

"Well, of course...After today's bloodshed, I wanted nothing more than to find release with my Gale," Elisabeth murmured before she hooked her leg around Gale's waist. She pulled herself into his lap and kissed him warmly on his lips. Gale returned the kiss, sighing as his hands traveled along her back.

"The things I want to do to you," Elisabeth purred against his lips. She ended the kiss before she removed herself from Gale's lap. She gestured over to the bedroll. "Take off your shirt. Lie down." 

Gale nodded, his cheeks flushed with anticipation. He was not sure what his love had up her sleeve, but he was eager to partake in it. He walked over to the bedroll and took off his shirt. He folded the article of clothing neatly and placed it on top of the table near the bedroll. He lay down on his back, watching with a smile on his face as Elisabeth sauntered over to him. 

Elisabeth lowered herself to his body, straddling him. What a vision. "Ah, one more thing to remove..." She hummed quietly before she took Gale's hand. Gale's heart skipped a beat but he took a deep breath. Elisabeth knew what he looked like and she loved him and accepted him for it. Elisabeth removed the silver ring from his finger before promptly tossing it to the side. 

Gale winced as the ring disappeared somewhere on the floor of the tent. "Darling-"

"Oh, oh, oh, my. To see it in this light..." Elisabeth cackled demeaningly. The sound made Gale's blood run cold. The sound was so wrong to his ears. 

"Look at you, all plump and lazy. The picture of a spoiled scholar," Elisabeth mocked, a grin forming on her face.

"Ah...love, I don't know what type of game this is, but I'm not...I'm not a fan of it," Gale mustered out, his cheeks red from embarrassment and not arousal. 

"Game? Oh, he thinks we're playing a game? Oh if it were only a game," Elisabeth giggled out, her hand moving along his soft stomach. "I'm not playing a game." She pinched the side of his stomach, making him wince and turn.

"Eldritch," Gale stated firmly, pulling from her hand. He utilized their safe word. They came up with the safe word when Elisabeth utilized her strap. They never needed to use it outside of that context. But it had to apply in this situation too. She would stop this and he could shake off the crawling anxiety. 

But instead of ending this odd game, Elisabeth only laughed again. "As though you truly have any choice, any right to say no to my observations." Her hands and fingers traveled along his body, squeezing his skin. "Weak, useless, wizard...hiding off in his tent with his nose in a book, stuffing his face with pastries."

Gale attempted to sit up, but suddenly Elisabeth grabbed his wrists. She positioned them above his head and pressed down harshly. Surprised at her strength, Gale could only try to wiggle his way out. "El...Eldritch," He repeated desperately. Even though he knew she heard him, there was a small part that knew that Elisabeth would never purposely hurt him. 

"I heard you the first time, Gale. Do hush unless you have something important to say. Maybe someone else would like to speak for once, instead of hearing your inane, self-absorbed rambling. You're almost as bad as the elf. But at least he's a sight for sore eyes," Elisabeth criticized. She sighed, using her free hand to tap her lip, "Now...where was I..."

"You were exactly the type of person I hated growing up..." Elisabeth hissed at him, her nails digging into his wrists, "Privileged, spoiled, egotistical, power-hungry. Sitting fat and happy in their warm houses while people starved and froze in the streets. Craving power with no regard for the little people trampled in their midst."

Gale searched Elisabeth's face desperately. Something had to be wrong. But this was her voice, her words. Everything he feared was coming true. She finally saw him for what he was. The visions of Elisabeth smiling at him, holding him remained out of reach. He sought to hear the sound of her crying his name in passion, the sweet 'I love yous'. 

"But...because of my own benevolence...I saw past your shortcomings. I ignored the fact that behind the glamor I was laying with a wretch. To sleep with a goddess's ex-plaything; that is quite a trophy," Elisabeth continued to degrade him, her fingers resting now in his long hair. She pulled at his gray-brown locks. She laughed as she looked him over, "Yes, you're a novelty to me, Gale. A toy for me to use until I properly grow bored of you. Do you truly think I loved you? How stupid, how gullible."

"I keep you alive and comfortable. I shield you against Mystra's wrath. I risk my life again and again and again and again..." She gripped his hair tighter. She forced his head off the pillow and hit it against the ground with each 'again'. The shock overwhelmed any physical pain from the action.

"And I come to the tent  I  procured, to find my arrogant, gluttonous sloth of a lover unable to get it up on command. Like any other man. I have been too soft on you, little wizard." 

He couldn't handle looking at her anymore. Elisabeth who was so young, beautiful, confident, and powerful...She pitied him. And now she finally had enough. Gale forced his eyes closed and turned from her burning gaze.

Even if he couldn't see her, Gale could still hear her. She mockingly laughed at him before letting go of his hair. She kept his wrists together. "Hmmm, well, let's see if we can do anything to salvage this unhappy situation." 

Suddenly, something cold, sharp, and metallic was grazing against his face. "Let's see...I wonder if I could do something about this cheek, make it nice and lean." 

"Gale, sweetheart, I'm here-What in the hells?!"

***

Both Elisabeth and Gale physically pulled back once the memory ended. Elisabeth felt sick to her stomach. Gale's insecurity, panic, and sadness nearly drowned her. She struggled to keep her composure. 

"In retrospect, I should have known something was atypical. You never come to bed without refreshing the lavender satchels," Gale commented.

"That is what led you to believe something was wrong? Not the verbal abuse? If Orin bothered to shake up the dried flowers in our tent, you wouldn't have had a second thought?" Elisabeth fired off her questions in disbelief. When Gale flinched back, Elisabeth cursed herself and her tone. "Damn it, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to...I'm sorry." She scooted closer to Gale and wrapped her arms around him. She was relieved when Gale melted in her arms. 

"I am so sorry she hurt you. She's a twisted monster and I cannot wait to kill her for what she has done to you, to us," Elisabeth told him, running her fingers through his hair. "Nothing she said about you was true. I love you. You're brilliant, selfless, gorgeous."

Gale mumbled into her chest, "You're only saying that because of what she said..."

"Fuck that," Elisabeth remarked bluntly, "I'm saying that because it's true. And I'll say it every day until the day I can't speak anymore. Then I'll write it. And if I can't move my hand anymore, then I'll tell you in the Weave. Then we'll die. And I can tell you again and again in the afterlife." 

Gale's shoulders began to move into half of a laugh, half of a sob. Taking it as an encouraging sign, Elisabeth made circles in his back with her finger. "I'm not letting you out of my sight for a very long time. So I hope you enjoyed your privacy while it lasted." 

Gale looked up at Elisabeth. His dark eyes shined with tears but there was a weak smile on his face, "I was foolish to think for a moment that she was you. I'm sorry."

"You don't get to apologize anymore," Elisabeth tutted, continuing to rub his back. "But..." She sighed, setting her head on Gale's shoulder, "There had to be a reason you were so eager to believe her. Something lingering inside of you." 

Gale opened his mouth as though to speak, only for a small whimper to leave. 

"Shhh," Elisabeth comforted him, "We can discuss this tomorrow. When you get some rest. I'm here for you. No matter what. I've chosen you. Just listen..." She eased him onto his back and lay next to him. She kissed the top of his head. 

"I love the wrinkles around your eyes, especially when you smile or laugh. The gray that peppers through your hair. The way your beard feels between my thighs. Your mind is so brilliant and intelligent. I know you only want to do better for everyone. You want to please. You're not selfish. Someone selfish would not do half of what you are doing. Your body makes me feel warm and safe. You enjoy the fine things in life. That is not a vice. I love putting my head in your lap. I can see why I will need to fight Tara over it. You have pleased me in a way that makes me forget the name of any other man or woman. Not because of what you do, but because of the love that is behind it. You make me feel like the most important person in the room."

"I love you, Gale of Waterdeep, Gale Dekarios." Elisabeth continued to stroke his back. With Gale's even, deep breathing, she thought that perhaps he had fallen asleep from exhaustion. But suddenly, Elisabeth felt something cold and metal in her hand. She looked down to see that Gale had passed his ring to her. His glamor was off. Gale curled into her, his face nuzzling into her chest. Elisabeth clasped the ring protectively in her hand before setting it under the pillow. 

"Sweet dreams..." 

[sassassassins]

Companion piece to this meta about Zhou Zishu

When Wen Kexing leaves the Ghost Valley, he encounters a curious concept: a philanthropist, someone whose sole occupation is being good and grand and bestowing money on those less fortunate.

There were no good people in the Ghost Valley. For one thing, there were no people in the Ghost Valley, only their twisted, sunless reflections. Loyalty and power were the only things that mattered in the hierarchy of that ravenous underworld. If a good person happened to wander in, they'd be eaten alive in ten minutes flat.

Wen Kexing quite likes the idea of being a good person. It appeals to him in the same way that fine silk robes and elegant jade pendants appeal to him, as a pretty thing to try on and discard as necessary.

So he fashions himself as Philanthropist Wen, strolling through the streets with a benevolent smile and the lazy wave of his fan. Perhaps he hasn't endowed any orphanages or gifted food to any beggars, Gu Xiang aside, but it's the spirit of the occupation that matters. He wears it with style. It's a fine mask as he waltzes his way into the circles of the traitorous leaders of the jianghu, working to get close enough to plant the seeds of discord and watch them destroy each other.

He doesn't really start to think about what it might mean to be good until he meets his A-Xu. At first, he's simply startled to see the Swift-Moving Steps of Siji Pavilion, then intrigued by the mystery of this man and his fine shoulderblades. But as he gets closer, he finds that his A-Xu is both a peerless beauty and a good man at his core, someone he didn't think could exist in the corrupt human realm. As he watches, A-Xu saves Zhang Chengling to repay a paltry debt, even though it would be easier to flee. He holds a piece of Glazed Armor in his hands and throws it to Wen Kexing without a hint of greed in his eyes. He openly reveals his identity and his bloody history as an assassin, and makes a commitment to start a new life. Zhou Zishu is undoubtedly a good man, perhaps the best he has ever known.

Watching his A-Xu move through the world starts to give Wen Kexing a slithering uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. When he watches his schemes lead to the unintended deaths of innocents, he knows he does not deserve to stand next to his A-Xu in the light. Am I a good person? he asks as a flirtation, but he knows that his mask is slipping to reveal the cracks beneath, exposing the shatter pattern where the child Zhen Yan broke beneath the cruelty of the previous Ghost Valley master.

It's a strange feeling, shame. Highly inconvenient. For years, he had always been resolute and self-assured in one purpose: revenge. Self-doubt is dangerous in a place like the Ghost Valley, where the inhabitants can smell fear and corner the vulnerable. But now that he's spent so much time with Zhou Zishu, putting on the persona of the Ghost Valley Master is starting to feel like a chore. He likes being Philanthropist Wen. He likes standing next to A-Xu, even if he doesn't deserve to claim the human world as his own.

The shame becomes a pulsing, throbbing point of pain with the revelation of his parentage at Longyuan Cabinet. It hounds him constantly once they return to Siji Pavilion. He knows that his rotten identity will break their hard-won peace, perhaps irreparably. He dreads his exposure with every conversation, and screams his frustration and confused grief at the grave of his would-be master. Everything that once seemed so simple has become hopelessly tangled.

Except - Zhou Zishu defends him from Ye Baiyi with an arm thrown across his chest to protect him. He knew already of Wen Kexing's identity as the Ghost Valley Master, somehow. He knew, but had not rejected him. He still calls him shidi. Which means that either Wen Kexing is a good person after all, worthy of being defended, or he has somehow misunderstood his A-Xu.

He doesn't truly understand until he lets the persona of the Ghost Valley Master fall to his death off a cliff. Standing over the pitiful body of Zhao Jing, he feels righteous in his violence. But more importantly, he feels the last of his masks slip away. He can put on red robes and speak in a commanding voice if necessary, but he has nothing to hide-- not from Zhou Zishu or Zhang Chengling or Gu Xiang. Not from his family, the ones who know the truth of him and stand beside him anyway. He might not be a good person, but he is a person, and finally, an honest one. Someone his parents might be proud of calling their son. Someone who might be able to call A-Xiang his sister, as she deserves. A human once more.

His A-Xu is the same, he thinks. Leaving Tian Chuang has not absolved him of his past, but it has allowed him to step into the light, not to seek to be good, but to find a chance at peace. Of course his A-Xu is beautiful, but Kexing does not need to change to be worthy of him. They are the same in so many ways. For the first time he can remember, Wen Kexing wants nothing more than to live, to rest, and to see A-Xiang married.

The temporary relief of a moment of peace makes what happens next even more painful. A-Xu pulls away from him just as he's ready to truly begin their life together. Gu Xiang dies a cruel death, after only just accepting him as her brother. His regrets begin to pile up again. Mo Huaiyang dies too slowly, and even in this new life, he can't control the cruel turn of fate.

He knows it might be selfish to save Zhou Zishu's life at the cost of his own. A good man would have explained the risks and given him a choice. But in this new life, he does not have to pretend to be a benevolent philanthropist or an evil ghost. He is a man in love, and right or wrong, he cannot bear any more loss.

Fortunately, Zhou Zishu also refuses to allow him to die. He should have expected nothing less: they are zhiji, and their souls are the same. They have lied to each other and hurt each other, but in this too, they are equals. Perhaps neither of them are good people. But they deserve each other, and after all that has happened, they have earned their peace.

A/N whew this got long!! Wen Kexing has a lot to say, apparently. I'm still trying to get a handle on these characters and their voices, but this was fun to write. I feel like I have a better grasp on Zhou Zishu's voice and character, so I'd be interested to hear what y'all think of this version of Wen Kexing!!

Also, I take gif-making requests and (short) writing prompts 😊

[kitkatopinions]

I'm confused, why was Winter not allowed to have the maiden powers last season finale? Is it because she was on Ironwood's side? Did the writers made Penny human so she can pass the maidens power to Winter because she's fighting against the evil man Ironwood? Also what the hell was that kind of fight with Winter and Ironwood? Shouldn't this be hard on Winter because she worked with Ironwood for years or even see him as a father figure she never had? She just looked at him like he was the worst person to ever walk on the face of the Earth and didn't even blink an eye to reflect an attack on him--she shed a tear for her sister who planted those seeds of doubt in her in the first place because we can't have team RWBY in the wrong and face consequences of their actions or have others have different opinions/values/views from them because...Reasons?

...Sorry for the rant, I'm just so upset how they handled Ironwood and how RWBY and friends just don't face the troubles they created.

I have a theory that they had Penny become a Maiden because they wanted to subvert expectations and knew people had been guessing “Winter is or will be the Winter maiden” since we were introduced to both her and the maidens in the same season. But then they didn’t know what to do with Maiden Penny, she was OP, they had no clue how to factor her into the group permanently, fans were already clamoring for Nuts and Dolts, maybe they regretted bringing her back at all, and they realized they should’ve made Winter be the Winter Maiden from the start. And I think everything else - giving Penny the virus, making her human, having her go head to head with Cinder again, having her reject Jaune’s healing and decide to die - was just the only way they could think to kill her properly and still pretend her story mattered in the end. But there was another problem, which was them making Ironwood evil (since they didn’t include his semblance,) and making Winter go along with it. Winter had been the one to suggest martial law even before everything went to shit. She had a much bigger tendency to mask her feelings and act cold than he did (which they villainized him for.) They wrote Winter to react to James shooting someone only minimally and not saying anything about it, fully supporting his other choices we were also supposed to see as evil. But they can’t have Winter rewarded for working with someone they turned into a villain. They can’t have someone Ironwood works with becoming more powerful, and making the mains look worse. So how could they fix that and make her the Maiden?

Why, by making her a poor sad girl with big doe eyes who only ever did bad things because she’d been manipulated by Ironwood and hadn’t made her own choices, of course! She’d only gone along with what James said because she couldn’t tell him no and was just scared and had to break away from the person who controlled her. But once she realizes James has gone off the deep end, suddenly she decides all the choices she’s stood behind and was fine with or even had suggested herself were totally wrong and the only way forward for her... is having the exact same viewpoints and opinions of the rest of Team RWBY and co. And she can’t muster any real care towards Ironwood, because she disagrees with him. Why would you be nice to someone or regret how things went when leaving someone who disagrees with you? That’s how things have been with Team RWBY lately, after all. And who cares if that goes against and cheapens Winter’s entire character before that point? I think they really just wanted it to seem like it wasn’t Ironwood’s suggestion. Maybe they realized that Ironwood did way more to stop Salem than the heroes and just didn’t want it to seem like all his ideas were actually pretty good in V7 (other than, you know, shooting Oscar) at least compared to the mains.

I think Winter was so badly handled in the last couple eps of V8. I said that if they had Winter fight Ironwood without showing much hesitance or regret, it’d tip me over into disliking her again, and I was right. She had some really strong moments this season, but some really weak, bad ones too.

[jovialyouthmusic]

Silver Service

Anton is a thorn in Liam’s side, and Madeleine has a question for Bastien

Word Count 3583

Warnings - some smut, so NOT SUITABLE FOR UNDER 18s

14 Loose Ends

‘As Queen in Waiting, I can refuse to meet him’ growled Olivia, but Liam shook his head. They were back at Applewood after the interview with Anton and his lawyer. He and Olivia were in his office discussing the ins and outs of what had been said. She stood looking out of the window toward the orchard.

‘To do that I would have to enact the ‘Monarch in Waiting’ clause’ said Liam ‘That would give Anton the power to make his own legitimate demands, and you would be acknowledging the legality of your marriage’ He sat back in his chair, passing his hand over his forehead.

‘What the hell are we going to do?’ snapped Olivia. She was more used to making a physical gesture to settle anything that she didn’t agree with, and burned to be alone with Anton and a sharp knife – that or slipping poison into his food or drink. The idea of meeting him and just talking made her skin crawl. She crossed her arms across her chest, hugging them close to her body.

‘The archivists and lawyers are going over everything with a fine toothcomb’ Liam sighed ‘If anything comes up they’ll let us know immediately’ There was a knock at the door and after a discrete pause Liam’s aide entered.

‘Beg pardon Sir, Lady Madeleine wishes to talk to you. In person’ Liam made his best effort to stay calm – something he had already been attempting for some hours now after a restless night. Talking to Madeleine was a small thing, but at some point he was fearful he would crack and lose it altogether.

‘Is she outside?’ he asked, and the man nodded. Liam turned to Olivia.

‘I expect you’ve no wish to meet her, my dear’ he speculated, and the sour look she gave him confirmed his suspicion. ‘Tell her I’ll meet her in the library in ten minutes’ he said. Olivia smiled in gratitude as the aide left to deliver the message. It was pleasant to see her expression change after the stress she had borne over the last few hours.

‘Thankyou Liam’ she said simply. ‘I’ll go to my room when the coast’s clear. See you for lunch?’

‘Of course.’ He bowed and took an adjoining door that lead to the library without going out into the ante room by his office. He knew that Madeleine would not be pleased at being told to wait. Sure enough, she was scowling when she entered, but made a curtsey all the same.

‘Your majesty’ she intoned.

‘What can I do for you, Lady Madeleine?’ he asked, indicating that she sit on one of the many wing backed leather upholstered chairs. She sat neatly and elegantly, ankles crossed and thighs angled toward him.

‘Oh please, do we have to keep up the ‘Lady this’ and ‘your Majesty’ that?’ She said haughtily ‘We were very nearly engaged, and we’ve known each other a long time’

‘Maddy’ he sighed ‘I’m sorry, but I would never have willingly proposed to you, despite my father’s wishes, you should know that by now’ He remained standing, positioning himself in front of her, straightening his jacket in a gesture that belied the informality in his tone.

‘Well that’s a moot point, as Olivia is betrothed to Anton Severus’ she said acidly. He cocked his head at her ‘I can tell you were going to enter into some god forsaken alliance with her, I’m not stupid’

‘That’s not something I’m willing to discuss’ he said in a neutral tone.

‘But you’re not denying it’ she sniffed. He pursed his lips

‘What do you want, Maddy?’ he asked. She raised her eyebrows innocently.

‘Why, to be by your side, Liam’ she replied ‘If you can’t have Olivia, who else are you going to fall back on? I’m prepared to forgive you your rejection and stand shoulder to shoulder with you against Anton’ Liam gritted his teeth.

‘We’re doing all we can to refute his claim to the throne, and I have faith that we will find a way’

‘You have to have a back up plan’

‘I’m sure you’re going to tell me what I should do’ he replied, and she smiled triumphantly

‘If the worst comes to the worst, you marry me to produce an heir in order to continue your fight for the Crown, in Cordonia or in exile’ She got up to leave ‘Considering your need for an heir, perhaps you should treat my offer with more urgency’

‘I’ll never leave Cordonia willingly’ he asserted ‘and I doubt that I’ll be taking up your offer, Lady Madeleine.’ His face changed ‘Give my love to your mother when you get home’ she said smoothly. Madeleine scowled.

‘I plan to stay close to you .’ she asserted, but Liam knew he had planted a seed that would hopefully bear fruit.

------

Back in her private suite at Applewood, Madeleine pondered her conversation with Liam. When he had rejected her after Constantine’s death, she was prepared to hurt him in retaliation, but finding out about his plans with Olivia and her arranged marriage to Anton had changed everything. Madeleine still had a chance at being Queen, and she would give it all her energy. Her thoughts went to the people most likely to support her efforts, and frowned as she looked at her phone. Her mother wasn’t answering her calls, and there were no messages either. She wasn’t at the manor at Fydelia, or any of their other properties.

The last thing she had heard was that she had been making a short business trip to Monaco. She knew her well enough to surmise that ‘business’ was shorthand for some sordid liaison. She had been gone for a few days now, with no word of when she would return, which was unusual. Ordinarily she would be bombarded with messages about when she would be back, and invitations to dinner or lunch if they weren’t in the same residence together. She bit her lip and thought again, beginning to wonder how much she should worry. There was one person she could rely on to find out where she was; Adelaide was always talking about Bastien Lykel and only barely concealed how attractive she found him. He had a connection with her that none of the other guards did, plus he was discreet.

She made her way down to security and was admitted to the office. Lewis was on duty and told her that Bastien was off duty. If she’d known where his suite was she would have gone straight there, but instead asked for him to see her at his earliest convenience. She went back to one of the lounges and listlessly leafed through a glossy magazine, and after a while Bastien appeared.

He was dressed casually, and she noted a change in him. She narrowed her eyes. To be truthful, she hadn’t taken much notice of him lately – he was, after all, staff, not nobility, and she didn’t really pay attention to commoners unless she had need of their services. He looked relaxed, not as stuffy or serious as she remembered. Then she recalled some gossip about him and one of the other staff. Well, if he was involved with someone else she wouldn’t have to bump into him at Fydelia manor as she had in the past, supposedly on duty, but in reality making his way back from her mother’s rooms. That hadn’t occurred for quite some time now, but it was a relief to think that it wouldn’t happen again.

‘You wanted to see me, Lady Madeleine?’ he asked, and instantly he was back to his usual self, grave and efficient.

‘I did, Captain Lykel’ she replied ‘I’d prefer to speak to you somewhere private’

‘Of course your Grace. Perhaps the library is free’ She nodded in agreement and he went to the door to open it for her. It was gratifying to be treated with respect. Lykel had always been deferential and professional, she noted, and she was grateful that while it was obvious to her that he had some physical relationship with her mother, it had remained a secret. They reached the library, and again he opened the door for her after scanning it for other occupants and ushered her inside. She sat in the same chair she had used not so long ago when she had talked to Liam. He stood and waited for her to speak.

‘Captain, I won’t beat around the bush. I haven’t seen my mother for some days now, and I’m concerned’ She saw a flicker of some unexpected emotion briefly cross his face. Not worry or surprise – something told her he knew something she didn’t.

‘Indeed. That must be worrying, your grace’ She huffed impatiently

‘It is. I wonder if it would be possible for you to discover her whereabouts. I’m sure the King wouldn’t begrudge you your time on such a matter. Anton Severus may be in custody, but that doesn’t mean that anti monarchist sympathisers might not target members of the nobility in retaliation’ His expression was more readable this time – uneasiness and a hint of indecision, she realised. Most people wouldn’t notice the brief flickers of emotion on his face, but Madeleine was good at reading people. It was a useful skill when one seldom betrayed one’s own feelings or thoughts.

‘As a matter of fact I know exactly where your mother is’ he replied, and she raised an eyebrow in surprise ‘Unfortunately I can’t give you any details, but I can assure you she will return to Fydelia Manor in the near future’

‘You can’t tell me?’ she asked coolly.

‘I’m afraid not’ he replied. ‘I am often told things in confidence, and this is the case right now.’ He gave her a sympathetic smile ‘but I may be able to get her to contact you before she returns’

‘I’m disappointed in you, Captain Lykel’ she snapped, rising to her feet in irritation,  but he moved closer and placed a hand on her shoulder. She was instantly taken back to the first time she met, when he was on his first solo mission as a guard and she was a schoolgirl, home for the summer. His grey eyes showed concern and he radiated stability and reassurance. If she had been able to choose a father it would have been someone very much like him, even though he was marginally closer to her age than to her mother’s.

‘Trust me Madeleine’ he said gently ‘She will be home soon. It’s not my place to tell you anything more – that’s down to your mother.’

------

‘So we have to release him from prison?’ Liam said incredulously ‘At the very least he’s guilty of kidnapping, and is most likely heavily involved in an attempt to kill Lady Adelaide’  The afternoon briefing with his legal team and security teams was not going well.

‘Unfortunately, until we can totally refute his claim to the throne, we cannot keep him in jail. The matter of the kidnap of Lady Riley and Miss Turner is secondary. Moreover, Lady Adelaide’s assault did not take place on Cordonian soil.’ The lawyer said grimly ‘We can however keep him in detention somewhere more in keeping with his demands’

‘I propose that we allow him a little slack and watch for him to trip up’ Lewis chimed in. ‘Once he’s in more comfortable quarters he may very well let his guard down.’ Bastien nodded sagely, pleased to observe that his confidence in his second in command was well earned.

‘Very well, unless and until we can lock him up in jail ready for trial, we shall have to find somewhere secure for him.’ Liam acknowledged. The meeting went on for a short while before winding down.

Alone in his study, Liam sat back in his chair, scraping his fingers across his scalp, tugging at his short hair and groaning in frustration. Cordonian law was different to many other European countries. Thanks to his father, the death penalty had never been abolished, and the law tended to treat nobility different to ordinary people. Having noble blood quite literally meant ‘innocent until proved guilty’, hence Liam’s difficulty in getting Anton permanently locked up in jail. His father had gotten over that problem by more direct methods – those that disagreed with him tended to disappear or go into permanent exile.

Liam would not descend to his father’s level. He intended to use the law to defeat Anton, but it was proving increasingly difficult. Sophia was only one of the historians, archivists and lawyers working round the clock trying to unravel the ins and outs of Anton’s claim. It rather resembled the chicken and egg dilemma. Could a noble who claimed to be the rightful King be guilty of treason, or could the tables be turned and the reigning King be ousted due to a legitimate claim brought by that same noble? At what point did the monarch become the rightful ruler – at the death of the previous monarch? At his coronation? The law was vague. There had been a gap of a week or so after the death of Constantine’s father and his coronation – a week in which Anton’s grandfather Alfred had come out of exile to claim the title but then disappeared.

In the meantime, he had the distraction of the Lantern Festival at Valtoria. Security was not as much of an issue now, but Lewis and his men had gone over the manor with a fine toothcomb. Bastien was going back there that evening, taking Sophia with him in order to see to the arrangements. Damien had decided to take a couple of days off to attend the festival. After that he would have to return to his Interpol duties – for one thing, Greece was requesting that Anton be turned over to them to answer charges there, and the incident involving Adelaide in Monaco still needed some attention.

He sighed. The festival may be one of joy and relaxation but there may be little peace of mind for him, or for Olivia.

------

Sophia kicked off her shoes to stand by the huge bed and let herself fall back onto the mattress, gazing up at the ceiling.

‘If this is a guest suite, what’s the master suite like?’ she called out to Bastien, looking up at the gilded plaster frieze and ceiling rose from which a modest chandelier hung. It had been a two hour drive from Applewood, and she was excited to be at Valtoria. It was late and she wouldn’t see the grounds properly until daybreak, and didn’t need to eat until breakfast. She heard him chuckle before he entered with their suitcases, wheeling them to the side of the room for unpacking.

‘I took advantage of my position for once’ he said, sitting on the edge next to her. ‘If I’m retiring from service soon, we might as well take advantage while we can’ Sophia rolled over onto her front and pivoted so she lay next to Bastien. The high ceilinged room had huge windows looking out to the rear of the property.

‘You spoil me’ she said ‘I wonder what we’ll be able to afford when we move out of the Palace’ She lay propped up on her elbows, chin supported in her palms. She raised her feet off the bed and waved them in the air.

‘We may be eligible for a grace and favour apartment’ he said ‘Though it wouldn’t be as good as our present suite at the Palace. Liam won’t throw us out, you know’

‘We should think about where we’re going to go. I’d rather have a place of our own – you know, choose something we both like’ she said. He reached down and rubbed her back, angling his body toward hers.

‘I can’t plan until Anton’s answered for his crimes’ he said regretfully ‘I’m afraid this bid for the Crown changes things somewhat and I need to be close to the King’ He kicked his shoes off and bent over to place them neatly by the dressing table, following up by taking his socks off with a sigh, balling them up to place in one of his shoes before he turned back to her.

‘You’re still leaving the Guard though, aren’t you?’ she queried.

‘Yes, theá mou, but His Majesty has offered me a post as advisor to the Council. I would like to take that role, at least until the business with Anton is settled’

‘He also said there would always be a role for me at the Palace, and I’ve been busy helping look through all the documents’ she mused ‘So I suppose it will be okay until we think of something else – if that’s what you want’

‘Of course I want to be with you, theá mou. I’m sorry I can’t be more definite, Sophia’ he said regretfully ‘I’m still getting used to the idea of a life outside the Guard. I’ve served the Crown all my working life, and I’m not ready for early retirement’ She shifted so she could squeeze his thigh.

‘We’ll work it out’ she said, and cast her gaze at his groin. She bit her lip and let her hand creep higher. ‘But for now, we really should test this bed. The room is a nice size, I bet the suite next to ours wouldn’t hear a peep if I should – you know, shout out in my sleep. If I had a nightmare…’ Bastien grabbed her hand and stood, smoothly rolling her over onto her back and followed her onto the bed, straddling her prone body and hovering over her, pinning her wrists to the mattress above her head.

‘You’re ready, my love?’ He asked, as a few days before he had comforted her on her period, and as usual they had abstained. Luckily for her, when they were bad they were short, so she nodded.

‘All over now’ she said ‘I need you’

‘Then let’s see if we can be heard’ he murmured. ‘I plan to give the mattress a thorough testing too.’ he dipped down to kiss the hollow of her neck ‘and any other part of the suite you think needs attention’ She shifted underneath him, her hips rolling. She luxuriated in the sensation of being held back, her nerves tingling in anticipation.

‘You’re a very thorough man, Mr Lykel’ she said throatily. He released her and sat up to unbutton his shirt and take it off. The sight of his torso never failed to make her tingle, and she reached to the hem of her top, seizing it with crossed arms and lifting herself off the mattress to pull it off as he unbuckled his belt and unfastened his pants. He got off the bed to strip them off as she unfastened and took off her slacks. She rolled over onto her front to watch him swiftly fold his clothes and strip off his pants, standing only in his boxer shorts, with the inevitable bulge that made her pulse race.

She sat up to face him and reached behind her back to unfasten her bra, letting the straps down and dropping it over the edge of the bed onto the floor. He prowled onto the bed and pressed her onto her back again, stopping to kiss her belly and move down to take the top of her panties between his teeth. He drew them down and she giggled, lifting her hips off as his fingers deftly took over, pulling them down to her ankles. She let her knees fall outward and he groaned at the sight of her womanhood, delicate petals enticing him in. He stood to take off his boxer shorts, letting his length swing out, thick and heavy, and crawling over her again, lips to her collarbone.

She slipped one of her feet free of her panties but let them dangle scandalously from her other foot as he continued his attention to her body with his lips, ranging down over her belly to her mound. She stretched her arms up over her head to open her naked body to him completely, and he spread her thighs wide. Soon she felt the scratch of his beard as he explored with his tongue and she voiced her appreciation of his devotion and skill. He brought her to the edge, but just as she expected her release, drew away. She whimpered with loss until he pivoted his body to bring his hips between her thighs, and she brought her arms up around his neck to pull his lips to hers, tasting herself on his tongue.

‘I need you, my goddess’ he said hoarsely ‘Tell me you need me too’

‘Take me’ she whispered, and he pushed gently into her, gradually filling her until he was deep inside her, relishing her softness, warmth and the snug fit that welcomed him. It was short and sweet after their abstinence. Together they moved, naked bodies united in the search for pleasure, the rhythm building to a crescendo, Sophia allowing herself full voice as she came and Bastien followed. They lay back on the bed, Bastien lying on his side curled protectively around Sophia for a while before fetching cloths to clean up with. Sophia slipped under the bedclothes and they lay facing each other until her regular breathing told him she had fallen asleep, and he allowed himself to follow her.

Next Chapter 15 Up in the Air

[inky-duchess]

Heroes to Villain, A Guide:

"You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain."

— Harvey Dent, a.k.a. Two-Face, The Dark Knight

A hero is someone good, somebody whose morals are never in question and someone who stays the course of good for all time. Until... they don't.

A hero who has battled through horror and loss can easily lose their way and find themselves on a darker path. We have all suffered something in life and in the throes of that, we often find ourselves thinking dark thoughts or not acting like ourselves. This can be one of the hardest things to do right in any story, so let's have a look at it from the inside out using 5 characters: Book!Theon Greyjoy, Anakin Skywalker, Book!Tyrion Lannister, Carrie White, Magneto.

In the Beginning

If we accept that your protagonist was a hero, we need to know what kind of person they were. Who were they before hand? Everyone, even if their life has been shit, sees goodness in life at first. Begin when we are first introduced to them.

Theon Greyjoy: He was a smiling playboy with notions of grandeur who loved nothing more than hunting and whoring.

Anakin Skywalker: He was once a slave but made himself into a Jedi Knight during the Clone Wars.

Tyrion Lannister: He was an intelligent, kind playboy.

Carrie White: She was a picked-on, plump and unpopular girl with a terrible home life but with a hope things would improve.

Magneto: He was a caring son who had only his mother in the world.

Though each has a different beginning, we see positivity in all of them. Every hero is hopeful and believes in good.

Sowing the Seeds of Darkness

In every hero, there are seeds of some unsavory trait lingering under their persona. No person is squeaky clean. Having a bad trait doesn't always mean that character will turn bad however. But when looking at any character, you can see how they COULD go bad.

Theon Greyjoy: He has illusions of grandeur, he wants to make his father proud, he is rash, he is sullen, he is resentful

Anakin Skywalker: He can be a sullen person, he is comfortable in battle and can be very rash and violent.

Tyrion Lannister: He's intelligent, prudent, pragmatic, shrewd and sharp

Carrie White: She's a religious fanatic with deep disgust for anybody who doesn't follow her mother's brand of fanaticism.

Magneto: He is very comfortable with inflicting violence and horror upon people, he doesn't trust in people, he is full of unsated rage and hatred.

Peering through the Veil

You ought to let your characters show these through their actions. Even if it is just a glimpse. Percy Jackson is a great example of this. We have watched him grow up since he was 12 but in the newer novels, we have begun to see a darker side to him. He tortures the goddess of misery and even begins to share some startling traits with the primary Hero turned Antagonist, Luke Castellan. Though I doubt Rick will turn Percy villain, showing the seeds beginning to flower is enough to plant doubt in our heads. Harry Potter also experiences this when he tortures one of the Carrows for spitting in Professor McGonagall's face. Even his deadpan comment would chill you, "I see what Bellatrix meant, you have to mean it."

Theon Greyjoy: We first begin to see Theon's nature in the scene in A Game of Thrones, after he kills the wildling threatening Bran. When Robb points out the rashness of the action, Theon answers back in a distant tone.

Anakin Skywalker: He went to go see his mother after a vision, finding her dead. Anakin goes on a rampage and kills everything in the village before burning it down.

Tyrion Lannister: In a Clash of Kings, Tyrion has his first taste of power. The exchange between he and Janos Slynt shows Tyrion's villainous side.

Carrie White: Carrie is walking home and she begins to think bad thoughts about a neighbor, using her powers to shatter the window. This shows her disdain for the people in her life.

Magneto: When he is sitting before the banker in the Swiss Bank, he snaps and pulls the metal filling from the teeth of the banker. Then his torture of Emma, when he almost shatters he diamond form.

The Reasons Why

Every Villain has a sob story. Especially those who were once heroes.

Theon Greyjoy: Was taken from his home aged ten by the man who invaded his home and destroyed his father's kingdom. He was raised with the knowledge that he would be killed by Ned, if the Ironborn threatened Westeros.

Anakin Skywalker: Anakin saw a vision of Padme dying and believes the Sith have the power to save her.

Tyrion Lannister: He is abused by his father and Westerosi society for his dwarfism.

Carrie White: She is abused by her mother, humiliated by her peers and abused by society.

Magneto: His mother is shot by Nazis nd he is abused by them

The Breaking Point

Though we may laugh at the tragic villain backstory trope, there is an interesting flip. Heroes can have a sad backstory and fight through it to still be good but what makes a person turn evil. The Breaking Point is the tipping point between hero and villian. This is the final straw that drives the hero into the arms of Darkness.

Theon Greyjoy: His rejection from his family, the Starks and then the people of Winterfell. He murders two farmboys, one who could very well be his son as he was banging the miller's wife, orders the death of many people he knew well and betrays Robb, his best friend.

Anakin Skywalker: Padme refuses to help him and then he strangles her to death beginning his turn to darkness. He casts off Anakin to become Darth Vader.

Tyrion Lannister: His wife is gang-raped by his household guards with his unwilling help, his girlfriend betrays him, his father tries to kill him after years of emotional abuse, he is cast down and vilified by those he thought his allies. He soon begins to talk openly of destroying Westeros, his dreams of killing and raping Cersei and the destruction of the legacy of House Lannister.

Carrie White: She is humiliated with a bucket of pig's blood at prom leading her on a path of destruction and revenge.

Magneto: After slaying the man who killed his mother and saving humanity from a Nuclear war, Erik joins the others on the beach. When the humans try kill them via missiles, Erik snaps and tries to kill them all.

The Hero Turned Antagonist: The Failure of Dave and Dan and the Destruction of Daenerys Targaryen.

Now that we have looked at how to turn a hero into a villain, I want to point out the dangers of the trope and how it can be done wrong. Daenerys is never shown as a possible villain until the last season. There are no prior points and scenes to back up her turn to darkness. Tyrion's speech to Jon even highlights how stupid casting Dany as a villain is when he points out that killing the slavers was evil. Anybody with the wits of a pea would gave listed this as a good act of Dany's, though a violent one. It is a long and difficult road to turn a hero into a believable antagonist and Dany, though with her troubles and issues, does not fit the template. It was lazy writing that killed a perfectly good character.

For the ever patient @kathryn-anna

[jinxthinks]

Pat Was Used: Raising Dion Theory

Let me preface this by saying I'm in no way saying that Pat isn't responsible for being an asshole near the end of it all. What I'm saying is by the end of it he wasn't entirely in control.

What I mean to say by that is that I think there's a possibility the Crooked Man and Pat are two entirely different entities and that the Crooked Man needs a host in order to operate and absorb other super powered beings.

Okay so I'm purely going off of having watched it only once but, I have a theory on Pat's powers and why he went psycho near the end.

A lot of people assume it was all Pat. And to an extent I think it kind of was but at the same time I think he was a victim to his own abilities.

Spoilers for those who haven't finished or watched it yet, turn away now. But please come back later when you've finished watching it.

Anyways, Pat is defeated as The Crooked Man, and Mark has that speech about energy not dying it just takes on a new form. Right after that they show the farm and Braydens aunt either dead or seriously hurt. Brayden is being followed by the same cloud that followed around Pat and this is where I think it wasn't entirely Pat's fault.

I'm not trying to excuse how he was whatsoever. I just think that near the end, he wasn't as in control of himself as he thinks he was and that he was losing control of his own body to whatever gave him his powers.

One thing both Pat and Brayden have in common is they're jealous of someone else because of how they're treated by someone else.

Pat for as much as he loved Mark in his own way, did admit to feeling jealous of him because as Pat states, 'He was perfect at everything.'

Brayden is jealous to an extent of someone as well. When he tells Charlotte to meet him outside via telepathy, he tells her he's tired of being in the farm with his aunt and that he wishes the storm had taken him away with his dad instead.

So he asks Charlotte to take him with her but she refuses. So he tells her that he knows about Dion. Then he asks her what makes him so special that she would choose to sacrifice her own safety to protect him, but she refuses to do the same for Brayden despite him being in a shitty situation himself.

She ultimately leaves without him, and that plants the seed of jealousy that would ultimately lead to Brayden becoming the next host for the Crooked Man.

I don't even think it's just jealousy either that makes you vulnerable to getting taken over by it. I think it's any negative emotion.

If you look at Pat he at the time was the perfect vessel for the Crooked Man. For as much as he loved his best friend Mark like a brother, being around someone like Mark who had everything he wanted and more, it made him incredibly insecure of himself.

Mark had a beautiful loving wife, the career he'd always wanted and later on, a child which was a product of him and his wife's love for each other.

Meanwhile Pat just had a string of bad relationships and was working as Marks tech guy basically, when he'd much rather work alongside him as another scientist in the lab.

Even after Mark was gone and he started developing feelings for Nicole as a result, she rejected him time and time again. She's in her right to do so I'm not faulting her for that whatsoever. In his mind however, he probably thought, 'Why doesn't she see I'm the perfect guy for her? I love her kid as if he were my own son!'

Thoughts that the Crooked Man probably fed off of to make him do his bidding.

At one point, he was in complete control of his actions and body. As seen early on in the season and partially in flashbacks.

But much like everyone else's powers, his are strongest when he's feeling strongly about something. But in his particular case I believe it's negative thoughts as when his powers first manifested, it was because he was upset with his girlfriend at the time, having broken up with him.

I have no doubt that she probably was his... The Crooked Man's first victim.

So my idea is that this entity grants these people power over storms but as a result of its powers, they become infected and diseased.

Case in point Pat. He states his frustration near the end about how the very thing that gave everyone else powers, is eating him alive.

And I think in Pat's case that's what the Crooked Man uses to get them to absorb other supers. He makes them diseased as a side effect of being his host and plants in them the idea that they NEED to absorb other supers in order to survive.

In reality I don't think they even need to do that. I think the Crooked Man is just an asshole who has a secondary power to spread disease to whatever they wish to spread it to.

It would be mighty convenient for them if their host was dying of a disease that they convinced them could be held back by absorbing supers.

To what end you might ask? In the show he makes it a point to say absorb a few times. There's other times where he says kill as well of course and that IS a side effect of being absorbed by the Crooked Man but this is what I think.

The Crooked Man seeks to become more powerful. The most powerful super powered being out there. Or the only one out there.

By giving his hosts a disease then planting the idea in their heads that they NEED to kill other supers by 'absorbing' them, they succeed in either becoming more powerful with each one they absorb, or get slowly closer to being the only super powered being on Earth.

Not sure what the Crooked Man's end goal is yet since there's only one season. Hopefully Netflix makes another one so I can potentially add on to this theory later on.

Now how does this play into Pat's psyche near the end? I think there were moments where the Crooked Man was in absolute complete control of his body and other times where he'd kind of shine through.

Basically whenever it was most convenient for the Crooked Man to show a bit of Pat, he would.

Like when Pat told Dion about his illness and how it was killing him. I think that was mostly or entirely Pat.

Or when he was explaining himself to Nicole. I think that was mostly Pat except for when he hurt her as he left. As much as Pat was miffed at Nicole for rejecting him, I don't think he would hurt her to that extent.

He even admits to Nicole that he had no idea Mark was in New Orleans when he died. Essentially admitting that he had no plans to kill Mark.

And I honestly believe him. As Esperanza noted, the Crooked Man only sees super powered beings. Everything else is muted in color. And even the super powered beings in question are only dots of light.

Pat would have had no way of knowing who he was absorbing at the time. Which worked in the Crooked Man's favor because if he had known who he was trying to absorb, I have no doubt that he would have stopped himself from doing so.

He was jealous of Mark and his perfect life yes, but they were best friends all the same.

Basically what I'm saying is the Crooked Man uses a person's wants and desires and twists them so that they can do its bidding one way or another.

I think the Crooked Man knew that Nicole would ultimately reject Pat and was the one to ultimately go in for the kiss.

Pat explains afterward that he was basically having an internal battle on whether he should or shouldn't kiss her and ultimately ended up doing it.

One would usually attribute this to someone being indecisive, but what if it was meant in a different way.

Like he was literally having an internal battle. With what he wanted which was to not kiss her, and what the Crooked Man wanted which was to kiss her?

Don't get me wrong I'm sure Pat himself wanted to kiss her as well but I think he felt strongly against it as part of him knew and was afraid that she'd reject him just like everyone else. The Crooked Man however knew that would make him insecure enough that he could take over his body which would make things a lot easier on it for what it wanted to do.

Pat just wanted to be saved from the 'hell' he was living. Independently of whether Nicole loved him or not, that was his main goal. To be free of the disease that had been ailing him all these yrs.

However, I think the Crooked Man had started setting it's eyes on absorbing Dion the moment he cured Pat's migraines.

If you notice, episodes prior to that and the one where Dion gets sick, has Pat battling a constant migraine. But after that episode where Dion 'cures' his migraine and gets sick as a result, he never mentions it again.

One could say he didn't want to upset Nicole and him by reminding them of a time when Dion almost died trying to heal him but...

I think it was also because they were in fact cured. Pat's cured migraine caused the Crooked Man to fear Dions healing abilities.

If he could cure a diseased fox and Pat's migraines, it meant he could possibly even cure Pat's entire body from the disease that the Crooked Man himself caused.

Which would mean he'd no longer have a puppet to do his bidding.

I need to check when exactly the Crooked Man is outside of Dions window just staring, but I think there's a high possibility it was after he came back from the hospital and whatnot.

I think that's all I have on this theory at the moment. Please be sure to discuss in a civil manner if you wish to do so as I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. Also please be sure to share this if you enjoy it as well.

I hope that if there's a season 2 they'll delve more into the Crooked Man and what it is hopefully, since it left more questions than answers, and I'd definitely love to add on to this theory.

[kzbrandt]

The Shadow

The Shadow

    It will come for us all at one point or another, rejection, doubt, failure… The Darkness is here. This virus is only the beginning, she has many faces. Plague, Influenza, Covid-19, starvation, corruption and so on. She is the faceless, the nameless lurking everywhere and no where, she gave birth to night, leaving only one light to reign under the day.

    The twelve have Gathered, but a Reckoning warms the horizon, a smothering, burning yearning… If you close your eyes and listen for the wind, you can hear the sound of destiny breaking decades of silence. Now, when your eyes peel back the blindness, the long lost mother Earthenia is salivating in divine femininity. Ascending from dirt and sand, the first beasts prowled, still drawing breath in the obscurity of the wild. The shadow has descended and it is but a finger of what lies ahead.

    I think back to simpler times, back at the drafting table, where life began at the mere stroke of my hand. Few know my name and even fewer conscious of its existence, but still, there is one who will come to gain such a power. A true mystery is a rare gift, especially when one knows almost everything. Even as curious as my aching mind grows, I worry for all of you, my creations. How will you fair in such perilous waters?

As the Creator, I am responsible for a great many things. Contrary to popular belief, many divines are not without imperfection. The most pristine landscape is riddled with flaws. Human or god-gifted in the end we rise the same. To rise a mountain, first we must meet the flood.

    I remember every seed I’ve ever grown, teaching this skill to only one other, there is no greater joy than cultivating life. Some I plant, others I mold with clay from the Vale. Murky and Earthen in color, it glows with a bright, white light, powered by the Ancients essence, springing life eternal. Each bloodline has strength, big or small, the past can never be forgotten.

    Of all my memories, the most unforgettable was the maiden queen. Monarch butterflies flock to their beautiful mother, as did I. Alas, a fatal mistake I would come to mourn for centuries. There was a time long ago, when as a young boy was unrestrained and unrefined. I loved and lusted for artistry, power and creation. I got swept away by the pleasure and trivial aspirations. I forgot who I was meant to be.

    In doing so, a small shadow was unleashed from he Abyss, a dominion of emptiness and horror, a universe of nightmares. It only took one time, one mistake, and I opened the door across the realms and invited a single spore of Darkness and she grew.

    After pulling back each grisly layer, I was surprised to find a woman, comely in nature. Cloaked in mystique, she still remained nameless.  How could she elude me so easily? If I recall correctly, she spoke only once.

    “I must find my sister,” and like a vacuum in outer space, all of her opaque shrouds were suctioned back. A sister, a twin? This thought has burdened me for eons. Soon to be a lifelong obsession, I had to know as Creator, what I brought into this verse. If there were answers I needed to find them.

    Falling back to where it all began, I found myself on the Isle of Ness, where there are no beginnings or endings, the story here is ever-flowing. You may have heard of it, many in the past called it Eden. A great crime was committed forcing the retreat of all mortals, but more on that another time. This is the residence of the remaining Elders, the ones who managed to cling to immortality. This floating island could not be seen by human eyes or felt with such fragile hands, it was an impossibility. It is a realm within a world, location of the first sin and lost things.

   Whenever the script gets too cluttered and chaotic, I like to start new and wet my quill with fresh ink. There were thoughts that needed to be satisfied. For starters, what was the Darkness? I deduced that it wasn’t pure malevolence, there was something more. Whoever she may be, a tragic, scarred tale was waiting to unfold.

    Humanity was consummated with greed, selfishness, survivalism and corruption. But, there was also love, compassion, selflessness and a humor that kept you going, even in the darkest of times. As an older man now, I can look back and see the true gift in mortality is the brittleness of it all. In one second everything you hold dear could vanish, this makes life that much more precious. How can one really appreciate this if they’ve never had a shelf-life or expiration date? If death never comes knocking, do we even glance at the door?

   With the modern age comes many magnificent wonders, but it lacks the true knowledge of how things really began. The first beings go by many names, and they are the cosmic designers you’ll never see. The old ways can be both worshiped and abhorred. There was a time when things were very different, well before the age of Síandra. I wish I could tell you what happened, but this is  yet another fabric of history ripped away. For thousands of years, I did nothing but search and study all the way from Taboo to the Abyss. Once the Isle of Ness went missing, things became significantly more complicated.

   It’s a gamble for sure, risking it all to have faith in one unique soul. The Golden one, the key, a wick to light up the dark, if she can learn my name maybe all creation can be saved. To see my children full of such corruption and e useless is a fate worse than death. I am a father first. There was only one other place that might ail my torment.

    The great tree of knowledge, Ymir, husband to Ymira and virility of all barken-folk, was my answer. Constructed from my hand, he was a painting that filled me with such joy. The ingredients were tricky, blood, oak, willow, half of Ymira’s heart, and saliva from my own mouth. A wonder for the ages still written about today. Bonded by blood and bone, out tether couldn't be severed. His story I knew too well.  

    Seeing Ymir was dangerous and a near impossible journey to any who sought the truth. Down the rabbit hold under Lycanthrope Dr. lies a doorway. An old portal leading to the Vale. A land seldom traveled, even rarer still was for anyone to return. Nothing was solid in the realm of spirits, a path you started on may change or cease to be. The Vale will claim us all one day, ever-thirsting , always desiring another soul, mine included. If ever I should fall, my immaculate energy would swim ashore and embrace the afterlife, drinking Valean tree wine with my kin, Ymir. How we would rejoice deep in irrevocable peace.

    Of course, if this ever happened the universe would be thrown too far, unlikely to recover. Apocalypse would rise up, ready to maim and ensnare. What happens to the body once the heart stops beating? The feelings of all flow inside, the suffering and turmoil as well as happiness and determination. Blood pouring from too many, some wielding the knife on themselves. How can I judge them, when I think of it also? So much responsibility, an entire universe weighing down on my shoulders. Heavy is the head that wears the crown. How can I ever discard it when so many continue to cry out?

    I will never give up on mankind, though we wear many faces, we are the same. Put down the hatred and open your eyes. For what comes will destroy everything, unless you care enough to change it. Until we meet again…

            Sincerely, your Creator.

A note from KZ: Like what you see check out my short film of the shadow on my you tube channel (

https://youtu.be/9NVLCajZ3vM

) , maybe go a step further and find The Gathering on Amazon under KZBrandt. Thanks for visiting!

ᔓKZBrandtᔕ

[ephrampettaline]

.. chatzy transcript with @cassiegermaine

the grand lady of summerset and the lord of the honeywilds sow seeds for future fruition

House Pettaline -- when there had been a House Pettaline -- wasn't a clan given overmuch to intrigue or dramatics or even imagination. Creativity, in fact, was somewhat frowned-upon; the long line of lords of agriculture and bee-keeping believed in the value of the soil you could sift through your fingers and the sheaves of wheat you could count in your storerooms. Flights of fancy were viewed with suspicion at best and hostility at worst.

Ephram had kept his own fanciful thoughts to himself from early on. In some ways he berated himself for being a coward and not speaking up, offering his views on how Honeywild Holding could adapt to newer cultivation methods and should possibly engage in more social interaction with other Houses, thinking that perhaps he might have been able to prevent House Pettaline from dwindling away like withered corn on the stalk.

Instead of being in the position he was in now, which meant relentlessly quashing his own pride in order to reach for access to influence and power wherever he could find them.

The character of his stoic, pragmatic House still left its legacy, though -- the static tenseness of the Bluesprings Keep after the horrendous assassination of the High Raj was deeply unsettling to Ephram. He could barely sit for more than ten minutes, needing to leap up and walk and pace, and so he found himself in the lavish court gardens in an attempt to get the Rajasthangard to stop glaring at him in the castle corridors.

He wasn't alone there, however. Recognizing the elaborate glossy tresses of the Lady of Sommerset standing out dark and rich amidst the blowsy, tall white roses that grew in the salt air, Ephram made his way over to Cassandra and gave a slight bow of greeting. "You've got either very well-hidden guards protecting you," he said, "or you're well-nigh fearless, Lady Cassandra, after what we were witness to earlier." This close, she smelled of frosted gardenias, feminine and inviting, and Ephram wondered where she got the flowers. An attar, maybe, given her ties to the seafaring Princes of the Isles. She would want for nothing, regardless of seasonal availability. It was a heady thought, made more so by what Ephram could now see was a ripely swelling figure in her beautifully-made gown.

Cassie was admiring the quiet and simple beauty of the palace gardens. It was a moment of needed solace after visiting outside the walls, and so many meetings with all the other nobles that were full of fear and tenseness. She heard the crunch of his footsteps first, turning her head slightly before facing the Pettaline and watching him bow slightly before her. “Between my own guards and those provided by my brother I am well looked after, but even I need moments of peace.” She smiled softly, “Alone - I don’t see how much harm can come to me.” One of her hands brushed the delicate petals of a white rose and she asked, “Where have you been running to amidst all the chaos? I don’t think I’ve seen your face in a room for more than a few moments at a time.” She clicked her tongue, “People might start to get suspicious of you.”

Ephram gave a wry chuckle, lifting his hand to follow the trace of Cassie's on the rose, but along the underside of the petals instead. "One of the few benefits of hailing from a holding with very little claim to martial or political strength, Lady," he said, "is that we haven't got anything at all to benefit from throwing the Bluesprings back into chaos. There isn't anything nefarious or interesting to my whereabouts and gettings-up-to, I'm afraid; I've been doing my damnedest to secure assurances of non-aggression against the Honeywilds."

He looked down at her -- she wasn't a tall woman, but there was a calm regalness to her that was undeniable -- and murmured with a slow smile, "...although I admit it is a warming thought that you've noticed when my face was missing from the throng."

Cassie lips thinned at Ephram's response to her, her brow furrowing in a clear idea of opposition to his words. But she had come to the gardens to escape political games, not stir them anew. Her blue eyes flickereed up to meet his own, "Somone in my posisiton can never be too observant. Besides-" Her voice dropped into a soft whisper, "You haven't come to visit me. I suppose you've been too concerned over your wildflower patches at home. Or perhaps my little brother has become more of a handful?" Either way, the fact that she'd been ignored had clearly annoyed her.

Now that wasn't what he'd expected. Not about Prince Miguel, Ephram had no doubt that the more savvy members of the Threepenny Prince's family would know about their dalliance before the sweat had even dried.

But the fact that the Grand Lady was piqued that she hadn't appeared higher on his list of people to ingratiate himself to, that threw him. Only momentarily, though. Ephram knew what he was to these people, the elite highborn -- a diverting bit of rough, with enough title and looks of his own to mean they weren't completely lowering themselves -- and that was all he needed. Just the chance and opportunity.

"Prince Miguel is very sweet, like the honey he's named for," Ephram said diplomatically, taking note that she didn't call him brother-by-marriage or anything distancing like that. And yet she was about to cuckold her husband, brother to that little brother?

Maybe she wasn't. Maybe she only wanted Ephram to devote his time and efforts towards seducing her, to feed her own ego or boredom or nerves, before she summarily rejected him. And, well ... he could work with what he was given, whatever that would be.

"I didn't realize you'd be amenable to company, Lady Cassie." Ephram turned to face her properly, taking one of her hands -- it all but disappeared in his own -- and stroking his thumb along the inside of her wrist. Like white rose petals, there, and the butterfly beat of her pulse. "Or my visits would've been scattered in your favour." He smiled, the expression lending a genuine quality to the flattery, and let go of her hand to slide his arm around her hips and bring her close against his tall, lean body. "My wildflower patches are well worth admiration," Ephram murmured, dipping his head to trail the point of his nose against her soft, rounded cheek. "But there come times when all's I want is to sink my hands into sommat more refined, beautiful, more cultivated. More exquisite."

He kissed her, lips parted slightly to encourage Cassie to respond in kind, his other hand sliding up her side to just barely snug against her breast.

"Ah-" Cassie held up a finger when Miguel was praised, "Even the sweetest individuals can make you sick." Which was really just more of a warning. Surely the Honeywilds Lord and seen Iann and Miguel at eachother throats throughout this visit. It wasn't exactly wise to underestimate either of them. She laughed lightly, "Well I can't just declare it in front of the the whole Quiver, honestly Ephram you need to start looking at people a little deeper than that. Especially if you want to keep your wildflowers safe." Cassandra stepped closer to him, only quickly scanning the garden grounds around them. Her hand rested on top of his that found her hip and gave a small upturn pull of her lips. "Summerset is certainly more varied and worth exploration than this bland white rose explosion." Her heart raced at the brush of his lips, and at the invitation she didn't hesitate to kiss him deeper.

Ephram accepted Cassie's admonition without protest; after all, she was married into the family of the Isles. Whatever advice or information Cassie wanted to provide, he'd do well to heed. "I've got something of a sweet tooth," he admitted, before the subject of Miguel and his sugary charms was dropped entirely in favour of the circuit of intimacy that swirled between them, the bite of Cassie's words paired with the soft yield of her body setting Ephram's blood racing.

He growled into the kiss, throaty and low, and then swept his thumb over the swell of her breast, teasing until he could feel the peak of her nipple. "It helps, then," Ephram said, lifting Cassie against him so that he could kiss his way down her decolletage, fingers yanking what fabric he could out of the way, "that I've always been considered the adventurous one in my clan." Her gown was layered like a damn blossom, it seemed, and Ephram felt some gossamer cloth squeak and give way as he tore through it. With a lusty huff, he closed his lips over Cassie's nipple, sucking and kissing, giving the sweet secret flesh a nip with his teeth before kissing again.

Cassie huffed grabbing Ephram's wrist for a moment when she heard the quiet tear of her gossamer shift. But her hold dropped when his lips trailed and teased her tender nipple. Her eyelids fluttered and she glanced up to the sky for a moment before giving a heady chuckle. It was true that it felt good in certain attentions, but she didn't understand most men's obsession with ladies bossoms. Or destroying garments, for that matter. Cassie gave a little yelp at the breif sharpness of his teeth, and pressed a hand to his chest to pause him. "If you're going to be rough, you can't just defile me in the open." She rasped.

"I'll defile you somewhere else, then."

Setting her back onto her feet, Ephram latched his fingers around Cassie's and towed her through the garden, weaving in and out until they reached the potting shed. This being Bluesprings Castle, though, the 'shed' was a vast, airy room with plenty of long tables, a cistern of clear water, the fresh scent of plants and loam filling the air.

Ephram wasted no time at all in setting Cassie atop one of the tables, his strong hands rustling up her gown higher on her thighs as he bellied up between her legs and kissed her hungrily. "This is better, isn't it?" he said, starting to undo the pearl buttons of her bodice, wanting her full breasts swelling out into his hands. "The work in process, before it's put out all prettied up and polite for the rest of the world to see. In here it's still waitin' to be planted, and everything's still a little dirty." The last button came loose and he tugged aside her flimsy shift -- no ripping, this time -- to devote himself more fully to her nipples, her curving flesh.

Her breasts weren't as high and tight as a young girl's would be, something that Ephram delighted in; Cassie'd mothered a baby, and even if she'd used a wet-nurse, it still had made lush pastures of her bosom. "You're flowers in bloom all over, petal," he murmured against fragrant, silky skin, and then put one hand on the inside her her knee, under the rumpled rustle of her gown. "I want to taste those dewdrops."

Cassie hurried as she was pulled through the pathways of the garden, holding up her half loosened bodice until she and Ephram reached the lavish garden shed. Her arms wrapped around the back of his neck as Ephram hurried lifted and held her against her one of the work tables. "It is." Cassie agreed, a little more comfortable now there wasn't the risk of just anyone walking by and encountering them. It didn't matter that the Lady of Summerset could have whoevr she wanted, it'd still be considered a scandal. Her skin prickled with goosebumps as the shift was fully tugged to the side this time, and Cassie's fingers tangled in a bit of hair at the nape of Ephram's neck as she let out a shakey breath. The whispers against her skin were enough to coax a soft moan from her throat and she pressed harder against him so that the hand at her chest and snaked up her thigh rubbed just that bit rougher. "Why don't you devour it instead?"

He lifted his head at that encouragement, coupled with the movements that encouraged him to plunder instead of browse. "Surely you haven't been denying yourself all this time of a man's attentions," Ephram grunted as he dropped to one knee, big hands roughly spreading Cassie's pale thighs wide, splaying her obscenely for his view. "You couldn't talk like that, honey, and be keepin' yourself all prim folded up like a rosebud. Not when there's all this to be worshiped."

Although it would seem that the Lord of the Honeywilds believed in a rather primal form of worship, from the way the tips of his thumbs dug twinned bruises into Cassie's thighs as he pushed his face between her legs, groaning in pleasure at his first taste of her. Verdant and deep, the scent of her filled his head and he slurped at her lavishly, using the broad flat of his tongue first and then the pointed, eager tip to dart at that sensitive pearl. He sealed his lips over her clit, not content with such hummingbird sips, and sucked down on her hard, holding her open with one shoulder now so he could slide two long, thick fingers into her core.

Cassie grinned down at Eprham, the curl just a little wicked a her blue eyes glinted, "Oh, wouldn't you like to know?" She might share her body, but she'd hold onto her secrets. Her expression strained slightly as his hands strongly held her open and when Ephram's face first ventured amongst the bunches of her skirts Cassie let out a wavering sigh. Her hands moved from his neck down his back some, and the more Ephram's tongue ventured and pressed againt her, Cassie grasped and pulled at the fabric of his shirt. She was already aching deep within herself and as Ephram's ministrations intensified so did her gasps and groans.But then he sucked at her so strongly Cassie almost felt lightheaded before kicking out slightly in reflex, "Gods above-" She panted "I can hardly stand it."

"Mmmmmm." The air of triumph was evident in Ephram's bumblebee hum against her softest parts, and he let up enough to lick at her in hard darting motions of his tongue before concentrating on frigging her with his fingers. Every now and again he pressed the pad of his thumb against Cassie's slick, swelling clit, quick and hard, before pulling it away again. "You'll have to," he intoned throatily, mouth thick and lush with the nectar of her. "I don't intend to stop until I have you drenched and wailing for me, honey."

Ephram rose to his feet again, giving Cassie a fast but significant kiss as he bunched her skirts up in his fist as high as they could go. Some people didn't like to taste their own arousal; being heavily invested in keeping his lovers sweet and indulgent, Ephram didn't linger too long on sex acts that might upset the applecart. He loved the taste, personally, which had served him well in his endeavours. Sometimes these higher-up nobles didn't know just how lustful they'd get when confronted with Ephram's earthy, unrepentant, driving sort of carnality, what depraved things they'd be driven to new heights by. "You want me to fuck you now, Lady Summerset?" he grunted, dragging his scruffy face against her smooth one, gaze locked on the brightness of her eyes.

His fingers twisted inside her, thumb tapping an insistent staccato against that pretty pearl of her sex. "Tell me you want me to fuck you now. Or tell me in some gardening wordplay -- instruct me to dig deep enough to plant my seed, or beg me to plough you thoroughly, or say you're parched and need to be watered until you're running with it. You'll get whatever you want."

And hopefully, there'd be a fair bit of that manner of thinking the other way around, too, once Lady Cassie'd gotten her end in.

Cassandra wasn’t exactly used to submission, or if the situation naturally called for it, she certainly didn’t acknowledge it willingly. She was a Queen after all, and the damn Honeywild boy had all but said it himself. She was well worth more than him. But she was in a haze pinned between Ephram and the table, and when he spoke to her her mouth could only managed a moan or some unintelligible slur of words. Cassie sighed into his brief kiss, and could only manage continuous nods when Ephram prompted her. “Yes, god-“ Her breath hitched at the new movement and Cassie finally went to grab his wrist again in an encouragement to pause. Even just a moment of reprieve would be enough, her skin had already begin to redden with heat and arousal. “Since you’re so clever then-“ She breathed, yanking Ephram’s hand away from her parted legs, but also pulling him forward after so that he fumbled slightly on top of her. Cassie bit her lip feeling the erection through his trousers, “Plough the fields well and deep.” She stated dramatically, just a hint of laughter beneath her words.

A thrill of overwhelming excitement ran up Ephram's spine as Cassie -- stronger than she seemed -- halted the movement of his hand, and then managed to unbalance him. Physically as well as mentally; it wasn't often that Ephram bedded someone who took charge of the proceedings. It wasn't that he was averse to being the dominant partner, but the truth was that Ephram was naturally biddable and good at following cues.

So if the Lady of Summerset wanted him to fuck her, Ephram would do his damnedest to acquit himself in pursuit of her pleasure.

He tugged his trouser fastenings open, lunging forward to find her wetness and slide his cock through for a few strokes before pressing the thick head against the voluptuous softness of her cunt and thrusting in. "Gods above and below," Ephram gasped, burying his face against Cassie's pale throat, mouth open and dragging as he started to move his hips in earnest. He wrapped one arm around Cassie's back, the other hoisting her leg so he could clamber closer onto the table, drive in deeper and faster to set a punishing pace for the both of them.

Cassie sighed softly as their most private parts joined together, Cassie renewing her grasp around Ephram as he moved and adjusted her to attempt and thrust as deep as possible. It was a slightly overwhelming feeling, and combining it with the slight scratches from the stubble on his face was enough to make her cry out a few times he hit that particularly sweet spot. She could hear the slight creak of the table, and the air around them was so thick and hot Cassie sometimes felt the breaths she was getting in was enough. Regardless, she could feel the ache and pressure building in her gut and her lips eagerly sought out Ephram’s before she spoke, “That’s a steadfast cock. Don’t stop.”

Ephram rode into and against her body with less careful movements now, groaning loudly in time with each protest from the table, the sound and scent of their coupling thickening the air. "I won't stop, Cassie," he promised, hauling her bodily up against him as he redoubled his thrusts, hips jackrabbiting against her as he plunged into her again and again. "And you'll give me what I want too, won't you? I don't ask much. Only that the Summerset thinks fondly of--" Ephram paused, grunting through clenched teeth and rubbing his damp forehead against Cassie's chest, panting along the softness of her breasts. "Remembers the Honeywilds fondly, when she counts her allies and contacts."

Cassie’s expression was first slack with pleasure before it shifted and contorted into something like curiosity. She looked down slightly at Ephram as he nuzzled into her chest and cleared her throat, “I’m not exactly the type to mix business with pleasure but-“ And Cassie strained then pushing back the creeping feeling of release for just a few moments longer. She lifted a hand and brushed a few strands of damp hair out of her face, “You’re certainly proving yourself a worthy ally to have on hand.”

Ephram tipped his head up to look at Cassie, his scruffy chin scraping along her skin, and then moved up to kiss her. Hard and deep, as his thrusts slowed and got more intense; it was only the firm grip that he had on her bodily that kept Cassie from being jolted across the tabletop. "I'll prove it as often as I need to," he growled, voice hoarsened with desire. "Whenever you want me to." Ephram tangled one hand in Cassie's hair after she stroked it back, knotting his hand into a fist so he could expose her throat to his mouth again. His breath was coming erratic now, body tight and straining, but Ephram held off on his own climax to grind against Cassie's clit with each rough lunge. "Let me see it, honey," he begged, lips finding her nipple again. "Let me see you find completion."

“I’ll hold you to that then.” Cassie responded in seriousness, before hissing in air at the feeling of her hair being knotted. “God, god-“ The second request alone was enough to send Cassie over the edge, her inevitable climax breaking inside her so intensely her back arched slightly up off the table. She cried out in ecstasy in time with the waves that overtook her body, muscles eventually relaxing but leaving her raw and extra sensitive as she tried to recollect her bearings still pinned to the table.

And Ephram crashed after her, the velvet clench of Cassie's body on his cock drawing his orgasm out in a violent shudder. He bit down hard on Cassie's bodice, the fabric creaking in his teeth as it soaked with his spit and he rode out the lashes of his spend that ribboned deep inside the Summerset Lady's belly. Ephram stayed there, the weight of his body pinning Cassie to the table, his hips flush against hers as he shifted them deliberately, fucking his seed into her as far as he could before finally withdrawing.

He dropped to his knees again, eyes closed as he pushed his face between Cassie's sticky thighs and licked her clean of the spunk leaking out of her. A good ally knew how to cooperate before he was even asked, after all.

Cassie was slightly taken-a-back when Ephram knelt down to lick between her legs again, but she let him since she was still coming out of the fog of her orgasm. Cassie sat up then, pulling the front of her dress back together as she looked down at Ephram. Her smile was relaxed and pleased, and Cassie ran her fingers through Ephram’s hair before tilting his face up to look at him directly again, “You certainly provide a valuable service.” She commented, crossing her legs and adjusting her skirts with her free hand, “Honeywild Holdings will certainly have a spot at my table should you ever come visit Summerset.”

[chyrstis]

The Inside Hope County section for the questions 👀 👀

So much is going to be admitted to here, but that’s only going to add to the fun of writing it out. (and I’ve already started drafting a few of her smarter choices too). Still, I’m sorry Han. Some of this is going to be awesome, and some of this is going to suck. 

1. What was going through their head when the helicopter went down and during the subsequent chase?

Joseph shook her up badly. He was right there, inches away from her with all of the power in the situation, and she did think for a good long second that she was going to die there that night.

Burke did not help with this. She’s petrified at being held under water for any period of time, so when he left her there, she was on the verge of dying as well. Way to go, nearly ending the entire game out of the gate.

2. Were they afraid of Joseph and Eden’s Gate? Angry?

A little of A and a little of B once things got going. (honestly she leans on B to keep him from seeing any shred of A) She’d initially dismissed some of the concerns about the cult due to lack of evidence, and them being intensely private and isolated up in the mountains of Montana, which was a serious mistake. Seeing the video at the start of the game and witnessing what Joseph had the potential to do was a horrible wake up call, but she let anger at what they were doing drive her, even if at times it might’ve honestly made things worse.

3. Did they trust Dutch?

Once he cut her free, more so. Up until that point in time she’d only known about Dutch through a few of the reports back at the station, but once he made it clear what he was doing, she gave him her full support. It was probably a bit naive of her to do so so quickly, but he was the only person left she could rely, and saved her life at that.

4. How did they feel about their team being taken by the cult, did they count them as lost, did they want them back, did they not care?

She wanted all of them back. Hudson was the one she admired early on, the one that was helping her not become a massive screw up, and Whitehorse’s unwavering confidence in her, that she would be a good fit there, was something that really made it clear that these people were important to her.

Hana’s relationship with Pratt was a bit more prickly, but in that “we’re going to trade barbs every day until we realize we actually get along pretty well” type of thing, and he wanted to get in those early hazing digs before she really proved herself.

5. How did they take to the idea of being part of, if not leading, the resistance?

The realization that she’s actually one of the leaders and that people trust that she knows what she’s doing comes as a fairly hard sell. She does not want to fail them, and the more they rely on her, the more the little voice in the back of her head tries to tell her they’re making a huge mistake.

6. Which companions did they recruit, and who did they travel with the most?

She does try to recruit them all, though I’ll admit that I’m still figuring out how the Fangs are. They’re likely going to stick with those that can probably care for them, but we’ll see.

Sharky wins her over quickly, though, and once she meets Grace, Hana’s always giving her a call when she’s down in the Valley. Even if she has a feeling that Grace is going to spend the next few days shaking her head at their antics.

And Grace totally gets kudos for suggesting Hana bust out of John’s bunker a la Schwarzenegger, so she’s got an admirer for life.

7. Did they have time to find romance amidst the chaos? How did they do it?

:’)

She really wasn’t gunning for it, but she’s low-key smitten with Sharky for a good while, semi-content on being oblivious to the fact that he’s into her as well. They flirt, and she plays it off internally, but I feel like Sharky could light up an entire fireworks display saying, “I think you’re really cool, wanna bang?” and she’d still have to make him spit it out just to make sure he isn’t joking. She does end up initiating, though, once it becomes clear just how much he means to her (at a party, and with a heavy dose of “I think you’re neat, wanna do this, but it’s okay if you don’t?” as a way of giving him an easy out, b/c it’s better than being rejected outright), and there’s no doubting it after that. They’re absolutely ridiculous, and know it.

The second I did not initially plan for, but it became apparent that while she wanted to punch John, she was also apparently okay with subbing that for punching his mouth with hers. Repeatedly. 

There’s a lot of, “…Really? Really?: going on in her head, and practically lives in denial of the nature of their dynamic until she takes his ranch after the Confession fiasco, and he retaliates by stealing something of hers, dangling it in front of her as a means of meeting with him. It’s petty, but it’s how they go about things, and being alone with him is a bad idea, but she goes anyway, and it’s a mess. One that doesn’t end there, but doesn’t get much better until years down the line.

8. Feelings about Joseph?

Being around Joseph unsettles her. His intense unwavering focus whenever he addresses her always makes her want to back up and place a solid barrier in front of her, because she suspects he sees right through her. She doesn’t want to believe that he’s right, but he plants that seed of doubt right when he shows her the vision in the bliss, and she struggles with it long after that.

Still, she fights, and pushes to do the thing they had aimed for at the start, to arrest him and lock him up. She’s just not prepared for him to be right.

9. Feelings about the other Seeds?

Jacob is someone that does legitimately intimidate her and the fact that he cuts her to the quick doesn’t make it any better. The things he says to her are the very things she fears most, and she hates how easily he can pick her apart like that. The fact that he makes her doubt her actions, and how much she has control over herself as well rattles her completely. She went into their final confrontation set on killing him, grief from what she did to Eli (and for what he’d done to her) driving all of it.

Faith tries to tap into her doubts and feelings from when she was younger, how when she lost her mother, she realized she didn’t have anyone else to turn to, and acted out a bit as a result. The bliss ruins people, and ruins minds, however, and all it takes is a little to want to be trapped forever in an idealized version of reality. It’s dangerous, and she wants to stop it. She also wants to find a way to Rachel, but isn’t sure if she has the means, or if Faith will even give her the chance.

Her feelings for John are a mire, one that she’s still trying to boil down. She loves pissing him off, and their back and forth ends up turning into a strange competition, escalating until they eventually collided, but by the end she’s tired of fighting him and his siblings. Doesn’t want to just keep on feeding into the anger he wants from her, and after the Atonement she actually finds herself on the verge of being heartbroken. She can’t bring herself to kill him, as badly as she wishes she could, and hates him (and herself) for a while after that.

10. How did they handle having to kill animals and other humans? Had they done it before?

She’d honestly done neither of these things, but realizes fast that with Eden’s Gate, they wouldn’t hesitate. They would easily kill her and those she’s fighting for, and tries to push down any guilt that rises up from having to consider just how many she’d gunned down by the end.

For animals, she hasn’t hunted a day in her life, and still doesn’t do much when in need of some food in the mountains aside from fishing. She’d rather watch them go about their own business, but has been on the bad end of a tussle with a wolverine before.

11. Which canon ending did they choose in-game, and would you have changed the ending at all?

She resisted. There wasn’t any other option to her after fighting so hard for this scenario the entire game, and even though I knew what was going to happen, my heart still hurt as it played out knowing what I’d basically sentenced her to (and just how she was going to take Joseph’s words over the next seven to eight years).

Now, I’m a big softie, so even though I do find it interesting to have the Collapse play out, I’d so much have preferred for her to have been in a bunker with her loved ones and friends.

[thebeautifulgame7]

Reputation

CHAPTER INDEX

CHAPTER TEN:

Sergio’s POV:

I woke up with Iris still wrapped in my arms. One draped over her middle, the other under her head. I had slept better than I had in a long time and the smile on my face said it all. She was still here, and we hooked up last night. Sure we didn’t go all the way, but the potential is there. She was after all, still in my bed.

I pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder before admiring her sleeping form. She looked so lovely even with her mess of hair splayed across her face.

I couldn’t wait for her to wake up so I could make breakfast with her and enjoy the morning before I left for training. I could have only dreamed of this until last night.

I gently moved my hand from her middle and brushed some of Iris’s hair from her face before kissing her temple. She stirred and groaned lightly.

“Good morning hermosa.” I whispered softly. Iris only responded with another groan before she slowly blinked her eyes open.

She turned In my arms to face me, “Good morning.” She said in a hoarse morning voice, her eyes looked tiredly at me.

I tucked some hair behind her ear before leaning in and kissing her. I couldn’t help the smile on my lips as I did so. I could feel Iris’s hand trail up to my chest, softly pushing me away.

“Sergio, no.” She spoke in a gentle voice. I pulled away puzzled.

“What do you mean?” I asked, sitting up as she did as well.

“I mean this.” She gestured between her and I before she moved to get out of bed.

“You and I? I thought that’s why you came here.” I responded, still sitting in my bed.

Iris searched for her clothes, the small pile was sitting on a chair. “Last night we had a good time.” I added before she looked up at me.

“Last night shouldn’t have happened.” Iris said and I felt my heart drop. I frowned and looked at her more confused than ever.

“But I thought you chose me.” I breathed out softly, watching her slide her pants back on. I could feel my heart breaking a little, a sensation that was very new to me.

“It’s not that easy Sergio.” Iris said plainly. “I can’t just jump into this with you.” She added.

“I’m not asking you to, but I thought you left him for me though. Surely you can see there’s something between us.” I responded, desperation creeping into my voice.

“Is there? Or did I just like what I couldn’t have. Did you just like what you couldn’t have?” Iris answered back and I felt my heart sink even more.

“Iris, what are you talking about?” I raised my voice slightly. I knew what I was feeling and it wasn’t just lust.

“Sergio come on, you’re Madrid’s most eligible bachelor, it’s hottest playboy, why would you want anything more than just sex with me? Lust is powerful and maybe that’s what we felt.” She responded, causing anger to boil inside of me.

“You’re kidding me right? You’re gonna stand here and tell me that what we have is nothing? Why would I have even bothered if that’s all I wanted.” I shot back and Iris just stared at me. “If you remember correctly, there’s been plenty of opportunities for me to make that happen and I haven’t.” I added. We could’ve had sex months ago, but we didn’t.

“Maybe you just love the chase.” She responded with an indifferent tone.

“Pr maybe I just wanted to see where we could take this. You can’t handle the fact that what we have could be amazing. You’re scared of what would happen.” I answered, a glare fixed on my face.

“That’s not true.” Iris said quickly, not holding eye contact.

“It is Iris. You’re scared because of what everyone says about me and you’re finding every excuse to not give us a fair chance.” I spoke, trying to keep calm.

“There is no us, Sergio. It’s just not meant to be.” And with those words still echoing in my head, Iris made her exit.

I quickly followed her downstairs and out to my front door. “Iris come on, just give me a chance.” I practically begged.

She stuck her hand out to keep my at arm's length. “Enough Sergio, it’s just not the right time.” She said softly, turning to head out.

“Then when is the right time?” I asked, a glimmer of hope still in my voice.

Iris turned and looked at me sadly. “I don’t know.” She practically whispered before walking off.

I yelled after her, but she never turned around. I even watched her drive off, hoping she would come back, but she didn’t.

***

“Iker I just don’t get what I did wrong this time.” I said in a sad tone as we headed to our cars after training.

“What happened, like the whole story?” He asked as we stopped at his car.

“She called saying that she needed a place to stay. I said yes and sent Ana home before she got there. We had a drink, I showed her the suit you picked out for the wedding, and we hooked up.” I said looking at my friend for any facial cues that what I did was wrong.

“What do you mean you hooked up?” Iker asked with a puzzled look on his face.

“Okay well we didn’t have sex. We just made out a lot and I fingered her. It’s so high school I know, but I didn’t think us having sex right after her breakup was a good idea..” I shrugged. “So we just cuddled and went to bed afterwards, she wore my shirt and it was amazing.” I added, looking at Iker, hiding my feelings of sadness and rejection.

“And this morning she just flipped on you?” He asked to make sure he got the story right.

I nodded, “yeah we kissed and then she pushed me away, talking about how all we had between us was lust and it wasn’t the right time.” I spoke, looking down at my shoes.

“You know what the worst part is?” I glanced back up at Iker who prompted me to continue. “I was so ready for it all. I woke up thinking about what we were gonna make for breakfast and how the day was gonna go. I’d call her after training and we’d hang out. I was ready to take it all slow with her but be by her side while she worked through everything. I was excited about a girl for once and she just crushed it all while she still had my t shirt on.” I confessed, not embarrassed but upset.

“I know how you feel about her.” Iker said, pulling me in for a quick hug. “We’ll fix this. It’s going to work out.” He added, trying to be supportive.

“I don’t think so, I want her, and I really thought she felt the same. I’m just confused and I’m hurt. I wasted so much time.” I practically mumbled, still feeling the emotions of this morning. “It just sucks because I thought I did everything right this time.” I said quietly.

I had to let her go, at least for now. Iris didn’t seem to want much of anything to do with me. I guess I would just back off for a while. There was only a month until the wedding anyways, I’d see her soon, maybe by then she’d be better.

***

Iris’s POV:

I know, I freaked. I messed up, but what else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just let him think everything was okay, it wasn’t.

I can’t pretend with him, he’s too real with me. I had to leave because if I didn’t, this thing that Sergio, and maybe I, want so desperately to work out wouldn’t. Being around someone who’s ready, or at least seems like it, when you aren’t feels wrong.

I know the whole argument about him just wanting my for sex was a cop out but what else was I supposed to do? Why would someone as famous and good looking want me for anything more than that? I know Sergio said that wasn’t true, but the seed of doubt had been planted in my mind. I needed to focus on me for a while, free from distractions.

It was hard for a while, coming home to an empty apartment, not being able to text Sergio to come over. I wanted to see him, but I knew if I did things would happen and I needed to be sure I was ready for that.

The last month leading up to the wedding I did most of the planning duties myself, Sergio kept bailing on me for interviews or photoshoots. It was all very convenient, but who could blame him after the way I acted. I would send him pictures of layouts and color schemes and I would get short, one sentence responses. It was disheartening to say the least, but this time away was needed. I just had to hope and pray that he would be there waiting when I was ready. I wasn’t sure if he would be.

Joey had proceeded to text and call me almost everyday, desperate attempts to get me back. I never answered, I had outgrown him. It was easy to keep my mind off of him for the most part, but getting Sergio out of my head was a whole other challenge.

Recently Joey’s attempts to talk with me had gotten more invasive. He had shown up at my work multiple times and even tried to get into the apartment building we used to live in together, thankfully I had changed the access code. Our anniversary date was not something I needed to be reminded of every time I wanted to get into my building.

I wasn’t necessarily scared by it, but it was a little unnerving. I just wanted him to get the hint that I was done. I thought I had been clear enough when I dumped him, but he could be quite thick when he wanted to be.

About a week before the wedding I was the last to leave the office on a late Tuesday night. I gathered my things and grabbed my bag, taking the elevator down to the parking garage. It was empty except for the night crew’s cars, my own, and an unfamiliar black Mercedes sedan.

To be honest I didn’t think much of it, I worked at a large building, it could’ve been someone on another floor who was pulling a long night like myself. I went about my business and got into my car, starting the engine and looking out the rearview mirror. The black Mercedes has started its engine as well.

I frowned and shifted into drive, pulling out of the garage swiftly. I started driving towards my apartment when I noticed the Mercedes was following me. I took a few unnecessary turns, hoping  I was just being paranoid, but the Mercedes was still on me. Now was when I began to feel scared.

If it was Joey, I didn’t want to know what had made him go mad to the point of stalking me. If it was Sergio, I would have been more confused than anything and I highly doubted he had the time and motivation to do something so creepy. He never struck me as the crazy obsessed lover type, so I guess I could rule him out. If it was some stranger, well, I wasn’t sure if that was scarier than Joey.

My heart began to race, I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t call Sergio, surely he wouldn’t answer. I needed a man, someone who could protect me in a situation like this. I reached into my purse, glancing between it and the road until I found my phone, dialling Iker’s number.

“Pick up, come on Iker, pick up.” I groaned to myself listening as the call went to voicemail. “Fuck.” I shouted to the empty car, the Mercedes now following closer to me. I could feel my heartbeat in my chest heavily now and my palms started to sweat.

I couldn’t stop the car, I was too scared that the person would get out, and I certainly could not go home right now either. I cursed quietly to myself before dialing up the man I had no hopes would answer.

Three rings and I could feel my anxiety increase from the situation and the fact that Sergio could pick up at any moment. At this point, I really hoped he did. The Mercedes sped up and tapped the back of my car. I screamed and began to shake.

“Iris?” Sergio’s voice asked through the phone. I audibly sighed with relief as I listened.

“Oh thank god you answered.” I responded, glancing in my rearview to see the Mercedes.

“Is everything okay?” He asked me in a slightly concerned voice.

“Um actually no. Look I’m sorry that I called and bothered you but someone is following me right now and it’s really late and I’m very scared.” I blurted out quickly. The Mercedes revved it’s engine and hit the back of my car a little harder this time. “Oh my god!” I screamed, tears welling up.

“Wait what?” Sergio said, sounded much more interested in the conversation now.

“I’m driving around Madrid right now with a black Mercedes following me and it just hit me! I don’t know what to do and I’m scared.” I cried into the phone, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Why did I even bother to call him in the first place it wasn’t like he could do anything right now.

“Drive to the police station right now.” Sergio’s voice turned serious and stern.

“Huh?” I asked a little confused. The Mercedes picked up speed, almost hitting the back of my car again.

“Drive to the nearest police station, if this person is trying to hurt you, they won’t do it in a police parking lot. Call the police, explain to them what is happening, tell them you’re coming. They should have someone outside waiting when you arrive. You can file a report, or wait it out with them and then have a police unit follow you to your apartment and check everything out.” Sergio explained calmly through the phone, his voice steady and reassuring.

“And that works?” I whimpered through the phone.

“I’ve done it, and it works.” He said. “With my job I have to watch my back, one of my teammates told me about this.” He added.

“Thank you.” I practically whispered.

“I’m gonna hang up now, call the police, do what they say and I’ll be waiting for you at your apartment.” Sergio spoke.

“Sergio you don’t-”

“No, I need to see that you’re safe.” He interrupted. I thanked him again before hanging up and calling the police.

***

Just as Sergio promised, he was parked on the street outside of my apartment, lent up against his car waiting. He waved at me as I pulled into the secure parking garage underneath the building and the cop car behind me parked behind him.

I quickly gathered my things and walked out to them both who were already chatting.

“Ms. Leiker, would you like me to come up and inspect the apartment?” The policeman asked and I nodded. I glanced at Sergio and he gave me a soft smile.

I let the three of us in and we rode the elevator up in silence. The cop went ahead of us checking the hallway and Sergio placed an arm across my shoulders, pulling me into him. I went with it, feeling safe nestled against him.

I handed the cop my keys and he unlocked the door, “Now you two just wait out here while I check everything.” He instructed and we both nodded.

He walked in and began searching the large flat. Once he was out of sight I turned to Sergio, dropping my things and wrapping my arms around his middle, tears welling in my eyes.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, you’re safe, I’m here.” He whispered, holding me tightly in his arms and resting his head on mine. “You’re okay Iris, I won’t let anything happen to you. You did the right thing.” Sergio said softly.

We stood there for a while, him just holding me in silence while I sobbed quietly, the stress of the situation catching up with me. The cop returned after almost ten minutes, “All clear Ms. Leiker.” He said and handed the keys to Sergio’s outstretched arm. Sergio thanked him quietly. “You two have a good evening.” The officer said and I mumbled a thank you from my place on Sergio’s chest.

Sergio thanked the officer as well and released me once he got into the elevator. “Let’s get you inside.” Sergio said encouragingly, bending down to pick my stuff up.

I nodded and sniffed, walking inside cautiously. “Why don’t you go take a warm shower and I’ll keep watch.” He smiled softly. “You’ve had a tough evening.” He added, taking my hand and leading me up to the bedroom.

We made our way into my bedroom and towards the bathroom. “I’ll just wait downstairs okay?” Sergio asked, looking at me with concern clear on his face.

“Could you actually just sit in the bathroom?” I asked him sheepishly. “I don’t want to be alone.” I added softly, a tear rolling down my cheek.

I felt Sergio’s thumb move to wipe it away and I looked up, seeing a small smile on his face. “Of course.” He answered.

He took a seat on the bathroom counter and covered his eyes as I closed the bathroom door. “Let me know when you’re in the shower so I can open my eyes and keep watch.” He said, trying to make a little joke.

I laughed nervously and quickly undressed, glad that he was respecting my privacy. I stepped in and turned on the hot water. “Okay, I’m in.” I said softly.

I let the water run over me, the warmth calming me slightly. It was silent for a few minutes before I heard Sergio again. “Iris?” He asked.

“Yeah?” I responded, rinsing the shampoo out of my hair.

“What made you call me? Not that I’m not glad you did but, you know.” He trailed off and I could imagine him looking down at his hands at this point.

“Truthfully, I didn’t want to, because of how things have gone, but when Iker didn’t answer, you were the only person I could think of. I was scared and my mind kept telling me to call you.” I said. “I didn’t think you were gonna answer.” I added quietly.

“I’m glad you called.” He responded in a gentle voice. “I’ll always answer when you call.” He added as I shut off the water.

“Here.” Sergio said, handing me a towel with one hand and covering his eyes with the other. I smiled slightly and wrapped myself in it.

I quickly dried off and changed in the bathroom, leaving Sergio to sit on my bed. He smiled gently when I came out.

“I should get going.” He mumbled.

“No.” Was all I could say, “Please, stay.” I quietly begged.

“I just, I don’t know. I’m glad you’re safe but I don’t think I should stick around.” Sergio said, not really looking at me. It hurt knowing I did this to him.

“I can’t be alone right now.” I answered, tears coming back to my eyes. I sniffed quietly.

“Is there a couch or a guest room or something?” He asked, seeing my eyes filled with tears.

“Sergio please, I’m sorry I’ve treated you so terribly but I am so scared right now.” I begged. “Can you please just sleep here with me.” Tears were running down my face at this point.

I sniffed as I waited for his response. “I’m sorry I’ve been awful to you and I’m sorry for leading you on and I’m sorry for being such a bad person. I’m horrible I know and I don’t deserve your kindness but please.” I said, not bothering to hear what he had to say.

“I never said those things about you, and I don’t think that.” He said calmly, still sitting on the edge of my bed.

“Well you’ve done a great job at avoiding me.” I whimpered, tears still falling.

“I had to do that for me, for you and I, but tonight when you called, I couldn’t just leave you. I had to make sure you were safe” Sergio answered, getting up and walking over to me. “I’ll stay.” He whispered as he hugged me tightly again.

With that, he undressed down to his boxers and t shirt and we slipped into bed. He laid on his back as I reached to turn out the lights. Without hesitation I moved to lay on his chest and cuddle him.

“I forgive you.” Sergio whispered, wrapping an arm around me.

I needed this right now.

I needed him.

[utsus]

Hi! I stumbled upon your NaruHina fics through matchaball and just wanted to say that your writing always keeps me on the edge if my seat. I don't know if you take any requests but if so then I'd like to ask for the following NaruHina Prompt: "True love is one soul residing in two bodies." Thanks again for your amazing soul that so easily spills out into your writing!

(AO3)

An angel spoke to her once.It didn’t descend from the sky, clouds parting around anethereal existence unimaginable and unfathomable to human eyes. It didn’t havewings, or a halo, or a face.

A sword pierced through her and her scream got caught in abreath, a gasp; at that time, before her body had fallen to the dirt, she’dthought for a moment that it was funny. Iron in her side, iron on her lips. Sheremembered distinctly the way her body bounced on the cold dirt, the solidground. A moment later and her opponent fell, too. A stream of chakra nogreater than a strand of her hair had extended from her fingertip, slicingthrough air and flesh and chakra and bone. Her chakra flickered and waned as shelay there, and even with her Byakugan fading she could see the way the lifeleft him in a rattle and a shake.

It was then that it happened. She worked on breathing lessraggedly and pushed her palms to the earth, forced her weight onto her wrists.She got a single knee under her when she felt the chill on her skin, the babyhairs on her nape rising.

Later, Ino would ask her what she had expected; being theless spiritual of the two, Ino had her doubts and was more a blank canvas. Curious,but not expecting. Hinata had had expectations. Something to see, namely. Anything to hear. A figureor a note, moving through the air, hovering before her. She expected a certainkind of grandeur.

Instead it rose from the earth beneath her feet, a lowlything, incandescent and glistening. More monster than messenger, she wouldlater remember, when she still had memory of it.

There were no horns, no trumpets, no strings. There was nosound at all, except for this: a breeze like a song over her skin, the notessinking into her veins, a chorus tucked away behind layers of cardiac muscle.Was it there for her?

She couldn’t see—couldn’t hear. The world narrowed to apinhole in existence and all Hinata knew was that it was moving. She didn’tknow how she knew, but that she was certain. And it was coming closer.

For her, then.

She felt something softer than feathers, lighter than air,right there under her chin. She looked up and warmth flowed through her.

Benot afraid, it said, and Hinata wanted to laugh. She hurt too badly todo so, and time was moving differently in this creature’s company. She feltlifted, floating while still on the ground. She reached out and curled herfingers in the dirt to ground herself; a reminder that this was real.

Whoare you, she thought.

But there was only this: the breeze, warm as the first dayof summer, somehow finding a way inside of her; it circled her spine.

She could hear it again, the muted chorus, unspoken butfelt.

(A message, she thought, trying to make sense of theimpossible—planted like a seed in the folds of her heart—)

Movement; a shifting of reality; Hinata heard only this:

Truelove is one soul residing in two bodies.

When her eyes slipped shut she expected the honest black ofunconsciousness. Instead there was only the burning light of gold and white, athousand times more harrowing than shadows for how cognizant of her own fadingconsciousness she was. Her eyes slipped shut, her periorbital veinsconstricted, and her world only continued to brighten, to brighten, to brighten.

Later, she would lose it all. The warmth. The blindinglight. A chorus absent of voices, composing a new melody. Each more astonishingand indescribable than the last, and each forgotten.

But—miraculously—she remembered the words.

And it was the words she kept.

✧

He spoke to an angel, once.

He couldn’t tell you how he knew it was an angel, or why itwas so important for him to say the words. His heart had been a rattle in thecage of his chest, clattering hopelessly, trying desperately to keep him alive.The back of his shirt had been soaked with blood, iron grit between his teeth.

It came to him from the trees.

Naruto remembered the stellar image it cast against thewaning sky; that stark evergreen whispering through the breeze, trembling againsta lavender sky. He remembered forcing his hand into the air, trying to captureit, to reach out and touch it. He had always been a physical person—learned hislessons best when they were beat into him first, even at the hands of friends.

He knew love through his fingertips, the palms of his hands.Him, reaching. Always. There were stories of love and rejection in thoseravines between swathes of his skin, so many whispered uncertainties—theirs andhis own and his own and his own.

So it wasn’t unusual for him to be the one reaching out,even to an empty sky. In this he had no uncertainties; he merely reached,extending his arm with his heart on his sleeve as he always had. It was theonly way he knew how to love. Honestly, and without holding back.

When he was little, he had learned to expect rejection.Then, as he grew, he taught himself and learned from friends, from family, thathe was worth more than expecting rejection. So he taught himself to reach withhope, instead. His arm was straight and strong and unwavering, he closed hisfingers into a fist, once, around the overhead image of the branches and theirbeautiful leaves. He opened his hand again and let the lines of his palmswhisper their secrets to the skies, and it was then that he felt the warmthagainst his skin.

He didn’t question it, wasn’t suspicious or wary. He let theheat play between his fingers, like a gold coin travelling over and under hisknuckles. He felt the way it wound around his wrist, his forearm, the tremblingmuscle of his bicep. The heat sunk into his skin, a subtle burn down his spine.

And then the lavender sky fractured above him, and a faintlight trickled towards him.

He blinked as he felt it reach his palm, settle into thegrooves of his skin. It trembled there, so unbelievably fragile even as thelight of it showed straight through his skin. He felt the power of it in hishand, contrasted with the way it rested their—and for one unthinkable momentNaruto wondered if all it wanted was to be held.

The thought washed away and the heat in his hand grew untilhe bent his arm, rested his elbow in the dirt at his side. Looking directly atit burned his eyes, the same kind of feeling as looking into the sun, but witha thousand times the brightness and a total absence of pain. Naruto wondered ifthere would be any color left to his eyes, after this, and pictured instead thecurious beauty of colorless irises. Familiar to him, since—

The light flickered, a single charge, and Naruto watched itsink into the skin of his wrist. This, he felt. Of all the fire jutsu he hadnot been able to escape in his lifetime, this was worse, this was a milliontimes worse. But he didn’t scream;there was no air left in the world for him to scream with. The light movedinside of him until he was totally, completely breathless. He watched it like atrail of pale liquid lavender move through the veins in his arm until itdisappeared over his chest. He felt the warmth around his heart.

The tears he felt on his cheeks were almost more surprising.He couldn’t remember the last time he’d let himself cry. He did so, now, notbecause it hurt—and it did—but because there was a calm to the way it wascircling his heart that he had never felt before. The pain faded from a burningto an aching and Naruto felt carved out, hollow. He felt Kurama in his mind andsaw bars and shadows, as if the beast had cornered himself. As if he feared thelight.

Naruto wondered about monsters and madness and felt starklythe way that the light—no larger than a dandelion seed—was unraveling him.

But this, he thought, was a pain he could tolerate. It wasfamiliar to him. A childhood friend. Emptiness.

Suddenly the light flared and Naruto caught his breath,found himself gasping. The light gave one final burst, a flare of warmth aroundhis heart, and then he felt it get caught in his throat. Naruto coughed andcoughed until the light burst through, and when he gazed upon it once more,this incredible, unthinkable anomaly, he could think only of a sudden kind ofmusic it had left behind.

He could only feel it, smoothing through him, somehowincomplete. Just beginning.

“Wait,” he said, brave as the light which began to rise. Hecould see it clearer now, his eyes seeing more and more the longer he looked upat it. The light was only a piece, he realized, a fragment a shattered jaggededge of something magnificent something magicaland unbelievable and his mind began to throw images of great and mighty beastshe’d learned about in history class at him one after another until—

Sudden, all-consuming silence. This time, of Naruto’s ownmaking. He put a name to the being in front of him and new it angel. It was there in his heart wherethe leftover warmth still radiated freely. It was there in the multifacetedintergalactic mass of its creation, looming over him with utter gentleness. Hehad so many questions he wanted to ask, and he struggled to prioritize them intime. How much time did he have left, he wondered. Was there enough?

This was the kind of fear that rose unbidden when yourealized that time didn’t bend for anyone; that you only had so much controlover the life you were given. Naruto didn’t want to waste time voicing it.Instead, he looked straight into the heart of an angel and he said, “I don’tget it. I don’t know why you chose me, but I hope I can make something of it,you know? I hope I don’t let you down. And…thank you, I think. For, well. Forreaching back.”

The docile light continued to rise, high up into the sky,losing color and luminosity the closer it got to the trees. Naruto hoped for aresponse, anything at all, even after the lavender sky swallowed the lightwhole and seemed to glow at the edges. He waited and waited, his blood coolingbeneath him, and at last he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. He neededto get home, he needed medical attention, but he was exhausted. He was so, soexhausted.

As unconsciousness claimed him, he began to dream oflavender skies, of eyes drained of color, of hearts freed of uncertainty andfear.

Of a single flickering light in the darkness telling himthis, and only this: Be not afraid.

✧

Hinata recovered from her wounds with the aid of expertmedical care and her own dogged resilience. She went through rehabilitationwith Kiba and Shino at her side during the days, and Hanabi at nights. Kurenai-senseiwas a constant figure at her hospital bedside. She was healthy and strong andshe took excellent care of herself, so she healed quickly. Within a week shewas back to her normal training regimen, though Hokage-sama had given her asingle crinkle-eyed smile and told her she wouldn’t be getting a mission for atleast another week. That was fine with her; beyond the fact that she had beenin mortal danger, there was something otherwise…bizarre, about the experience. She couldn’t remember much—she knewwhat concussions could do to a person—but for some reason she couldn’t get thatsimple phrase out of her head.

Truelove is one soul residing in two bodies.

What did it mean that she’d come away from alife-threatening mission with that particular phrase cemented into her memory?It was an anomaly; detached from all other identifying factors from the event,it floated above her, untethered. Where had it come from? She had not been thinkingof love when that sound-nin had stuck her through with a sword the length ofher arm.

“Lost in your thoughts again?” Ino asked amusedly, lightlybumping their hips together. “Tonight’ll fix that for sure.”

Hinata sighed. “Are you sure this is a good idea? I’ve onlyjust recovered.”

Ino rolled her eyes. “You’ve been fully recovered for daysand we both know it. And besides, going out tonight is not going to undo your recovery. Well, depending onhow much you drink, I guess.”

“I won’t be,” she answered easily, grinning up at the faceIno made in response. “So that kind of settles that.”

“You’ll be the safest one around, then. You and Chouji,both.”

“He’s good company.”

“True,” Ino agreed, before something dangerous sharpened hersmile. “But I know whose company you’d like even more.”

It was Hinata’s turn to roll her eyes. “You and everyoneelse in our generation,” she muttered, kicking idly at a rock as they headedfurther west.

“Just our generation? Hinata, please.”

Pink-cheeked as they turned the last corner before theirdestination, Hinata glanced up and spotted Chouji first, chatting with Tenten away to the side of the front entrance. On second glance, Hinata noticedShikamaru just beyond them, leaning against the front wall, gazing skyward. Thecloser she and Ino got, the more of their generation she recognized. There werepeople from previous generations there, too; many of whom she had gotten toknow after becoming a Jounin. She’d been on missions with many of them, andrecognized more than she expected the closer she and Ino got.

There were those from newer generations, too. Many of which,Hinata thought wryly, looked too young to gain entrance to such anestablishment.

As they got closer, Hinata felt herself edging towardsChouji, a comforting and conversant presence.

“Hinata-san,” he called, glancing up from a customary bag ofchips. “You two made good time.”

“Chouji-san,” she greeted in return, smiling comfortably.Ino reached out and brushed a few crumbs from Chouji’s cheek, amusinglymaternal, before going in for a quick hug.

“Glad you made it,” she said amiably, her eyes crinkling upin a way that Hinata had long since attributed solely to Ino’s boys. Ino wasn’tsoft on many people, but her boys had a special place in her heart that seemedto melt her sharpest edges with just a glance. She moved past Chouji and cast awry grin over her shoulder before turning back to punch Shikamaru lightly inthe shoulder.

Hinata turned to Chouji and asked after him as usual; he wascalm and receptive to her, his eyes shining when he laughed. He was such a kindperson; Hinata felt totally at ease in his presence.

Some ways into their conversation, however, Hinata realizedthat she was distracted. It was abrupt, and jarring, the way she felt suddenlydrawn towards the fading skyline. She glanced over Chouji’s shoulder andshivered, watching the way the sky bled down from the molten core of amultitude of golds, to the brightest, most eye-catching shades of crimson. Shewas drawn to the golds, the deep ambers and the fading traces of light. Hershivering abated and she felt a surge of warmth, just beneath her skin, sinkingthrough her.

She wondered at it, as anyone would. What an inexplicablefeeling, she thought, as Chouji explained how to properly season a roast. Hereyes flicked over his shoulder again, watching the brightest star sink behindthe mountains. The golds remained even as the red grew, and when Hinata’s eyescame back down to earth they caught on ocean blue.

Naruto blinked, and Hinata realized she’d begun to stare;lost entirely in his wide eyes. Before she could glance away embarrassedly, helifted a hand in greeting and she could do nothing more but to lift her ownhand in response. She shrugged shyly, abashed, and watched the way he respondedwith a genuine smile. He peeled away from Sakura, Sai, and Rock Lee and beganto head towards them, and Hinata felt her heart respond instantly.

“Hey,” he greeted easily, eyes trailing over her. He gazedat her with an air that was almost cautious, the trail of his eyes careful andintent, as though seeking out rather than simply exploring. Hinata flushedunder his study and felt herself smiling, lips pursed but unable to hold back.

“Naruto-kun,” she offered, instantly embarrassed with howbreathless she sounded. She cast a quick glance up at Chouji and felt hercheeks gain heat at his knowing, amused expression as he looked back and forthbetween them. Hinata didn’t know when he’d stopped talking about his culinaryartistry, or if she had been so distracted as to be rude. She surely hoped not, and from the amusement spread over hisexpression, she doubted he took much offense, if any at all.

Chouji turned to Naruto with a smirk of his own. “Good tosee you.”

Hinata watched as Naruto clapped a hand on Chouji’s shoulderaffably, grinning crookedly. “You too, man. Glad you could make it out.”

“I’m happy so many of us were able to make it,” Choujiagreed, letting his eyes trail around them before settling back quite purposelyon Hinata. She wondered idly if there was anyone left in the entire village whodidn’t know about her feelings for Naruto.

“I’m pleasantly surprised Sai-san decided to come.”

“You might be the only one,” Naruto huffed, turning over hisshoulder as the three of them watched Sai reach out and pull lightly onSakura’s hair. Sakura turned to him with a stilted slowness, danger signsglaring, but he only smiled wider and let his shoulders bob up and down beforeoffering an explanation—the picture of innocence.

“He’s a weird dude,” a new voice added, and Hinatarecognized their new party without having to look. She reached out and felt ahand slide into hers for a moment, offering a cursory squeeze, and turned justin time to see Chouji and Shino silently bump knuckles as Kiba’s hand fell awayfrom hers and he settled at her side with a yawn. “I don’t get him.”

“Maybe we should spend more time with him,” Hinata wonderedaloud, eyeing the man in question. “Get to know him better.”

“Like go out with him?” Kiba asked, eyebrows jumping. “Ortrain?”

Hinata felt herself smiling. “Either, I supposed. But I hadtraining in mind.”

“Let me just say right now,” Naruto began, lifting a finger.“He’s a strange fucking bird. But he’s a good guy. He’s an asshole,” he added, much to their amusement, “But he’s a good guy.”

“Do with that what we will, huh?” Chouji laughed, and Hinatafelt the warmth of joy rising under her skin. She was naturally introverted,but she enjoyed social situations when she was with people she knew and feltcomfortable with. She could be perfectly social without them, of course—she’dgrown up in a clan that prized propriety after all—but she preferred andresponded better, as so many would, to the company of friends.

Hinata’s eyes fell heavy with admiration as she allowedherself to relish the reality of having so many friends. She felt intensely andprivately lucky to be able to have somany people in her life that she could rely on; people that could rely on her. Though they were spaced out inseveral slivered groups, she knew that should they come together as a wholethat they would not want for comfort, amusement, or joy.

Her unit fell into idle conversation just as the others had,and Hinata listened with half an ear as the warmth around her heart rekindled,drawing her attention. She kept finding her gaze on Naruto, which was neithersurprising nor unsettling, though it wasembarrassing. She did have someself-control. She was not unused to this behavior of hers. She couldn’tremember the first time she’d realized she was drawn to Naruto in a way that amoth was drawn to a flame—that total, all-encompassing pull; a path that was asbeautiful as it was dangerous. He was strong of heart and body and soul andshe’d seen all of that even before she’d developed her Byakugan. She’d lookedat him and seen the heart of him, and ever since then she’d been his. So easy,she thought. And lasting.

But this time felt different, somehow. She wasn’t justlooking to look, or drawn to him idly because she thought him the mostinteresting and beautiful person near her, though that was true. It was morethan an idle attention; it was an affixed curiosity. A curiousness that shedidn’t have an answer for, that reminded her of the golden flare of his hairand the way his smile shined so brightly it seemed to cast everyone around himin lesser light.

Why did that kind of luminosity feel nostalgic? What gap inher memory held such a marvel, but was still hidden to her present mind?

She could hear Shino’s low timbre, his textbook explanationof some kind of plant that could be used to spice a meal (and Chouji’s avid andverbal interest) as she glanced up once more to study Naruto’s profile. The sunhad set behind him, the sky dulling down from vibrancy to romantic hues.Outlined in waning vermilion, Hinata fell in love with Naruto all over again;his idle grin; the way his eyes—bright and shining, ensnaring of every sourceof light outside of his own—danced from person to person; the bob of his throatwhen he laughed; the pink lines his nails left behind when he absentmindedlyscratched his nape.

Hinata missed none of it. She looked too closely and feltall the chaos of being burned without any of the actual pain; only the heat,the flickering of light, and the absence of control. She took a careful deepbreath, veiling it behind a smile at something Kiba added to Shino’s retellingof the garden tools that were so old he thought them cursed and imagined they’dfought back.

Hinata breathed around the warmth in her chest and waitedseveral purposeful moments before glancing back to Naruto, as she had beensince he’d joined their circle. Only this time, instead of catching on thesharp planes of his profile, she met his oceanic stare head-on.

She was so startled by his sudden attention she almostresponded verbally, her silent gasp only justfalling short of an audible “Oh!” Sheswallowed and blinked up at him, and it took her a moment to realize he’d askedher a question. She turned towards the elbow Kiba gently introduced to her sideand the amused tilt of Shino’s sunglasses, and only just missed the curious,inquisitive trail of Naruto’s eyes over her skin.

“I’m sorry—What?”

“He said,” Kibareiterated, “That it’s time for us to head in. Our tables are ready and thegang’s all here, apparently.”

Hinata tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear to giveher something to do with her hands and nodded, embarrassed and unable to meetNaruto’s eyes again. “Sorry,” she offered quietly, laughing a little. Sheglanced up quickly, needing to see his response for only a moment beforelooking away. His amusement was muted and clear, as though charmed but notwanting to embarrass her further.

“It’s okay,” Naruto said, and she felt the heat of his handsuddenly pressed between her shoulder blades. He didn’t push, only guided; theywalked side-by-side and followed the rest of their friends up to the secondstory and into the bar. Sakura held the door open for everyone and they filedinto the boisterous chatter and smoke of their frequented tavern. They liked itbecause it was huge—two stories and largeenough to easily house the lot of them and countless other patrons, too,without the irritation of crowding one another. Still, the tables were closetogether and there was no doing away with rubbing elbows with strangers, but itwas the best lot out of several they’d tried in their earlier years.

Everything inside was deep, polished wood and theoverwhelming smell of smoke and alcohol. Glasses clanked and people laughed,and on the far eastern side of the greatest room was a crowded dancefloor.Hinata caught a glimpse of startlingly fashioned gray hair sitting at the barand frowned. Either her eyes were deceiving her or their Hokage was disguisedand enjoying himself a whiskey. Neat.

Somewhere along the journey from front entrance to theirtable in the back room, Hinata found herself separated from her team and Narutoboth. She ended up between Sakura and Chouji, with Ino and Kiba across fromher. Naruto was seated just beside Ino, with Neji on his other side. Nejioffered Hinata fond grin that she mirrored exactly before turning back to whatlooked to be an involved conversation with Tenten. They ordered their firstround of drinks—Hinata with her iced tea and Chouji with his water andlemons—before smoothly breaking off into separate conversations once more.

It never ceased to amaze Hinata how easily it came to hergeneration to check in on each other. There were bonds here that wereunbreakable, enduring. There was a fair share of introverts and extroverts,both, and yet somehow they all managed to find a peaceful inquisitiveness thatkept everyone up to date with everyone else’s latest business. Hinata was aprivate person by nature and upbringing, but wasn’t opposed to joining in onthe sharing. Kiba already knew what was happening in her life, considering he’dbeen there with her every step of her recovery. Shino, too, but he was at thefar end of the table sandwiched between Sasuke and Sai, which nearly had Hinatalaughing out loud. She could only wonder what kind of conversations were goingto be had over there, if any at all.

Hinata turned back to her section, still smiling from the thought,and caught on to the tail end of something her tablemates were discussing.

“It’s been rough for a while, right? It’s not just methinking this. Right? Someone validate me.”

Hinata felt herself smiling, charmed with Kiba’s mannerisms.She heard Ino laugh and when she glanced over to gauge Naruto’s expression, shefound his eyebrows raised, his lips pursed. He nodded his head, an easyaffirmation.

“For once, I agree with you.” Ino said smoothly, tossing herlong tail of hair back over her shoulder. She leaned back as the server broughttheir drinks, then made quick work of tasting her own to measure it against herpalate. With a curiously quirked eyebrow, she seemed to accept it. Hinatawatched her trail her fingertip around the rim of the glass almostcontemplatively as another waiter set her iced tea down in front of her. Sheglanced up with a gracious smile and a quiet thank you, before turning back to Ino’s chatter.

“I had a mission last week that was so not worth the pay,” Ino continued, and Sakura huffed inagreement.

Chouji frowned. “What was the cost?”

Ino sniffed. “Nearly an arm and a leg.”

Chouji straightened, protective even so long after the fact,but Ino waved her hand to shush him. Sakura was gazing at her girlfriend withstern pride, a steady kind of unwavering admiration.

Ino added, “Obviously, they sent amateurs to collect. Istill have all my amenities.”

“But it was close,” Hinata said quietly, sympathetic.

“Too close.” Sakura starkly added. Ino reached across thetable for a moment and squeezed one of Sakura’s hands, a shared look offeredbetween them. When she straightened back up and their hands slid away, Hinataglanced away from the heat in Sakura’s cheeks. Ino’s smile, intimate one momentand wry the next, led her into further explanation.

Hinata listened to Ino recount her mission from hell, invivid detail, even as she canvassed the room. It was ingrained in her, as ashinobi of Konoha, as a Jounin with responsibilities. She could not, would not be careless. Her father hadtold her at a very young age that she would have to be stronger, faster,smarter than others. That the blood in her veins made her special, anddangerous, and different. That it made her hunted.

She had a lifetime of sunrise training sessions, endless simulations,and a few scars to remind her that though it was peacetime and her village wasone of, if not the strongest villagein the shinobi system, that she was still not safe. That she would never besafe. Not in this line of work. Not with this blood coursing through her veins.Not with these eyes.

So she canvassed the room, took note of every possible exitand entrance, of blind spots and safe spaces for civilians to be guided shouldthey need it. She took in the high beams in the ceiling, the fragility of the tintedwindows up front, the flammability of the curtains. Solid wood under her feet. Maybefifty more patrons beneath them, on the first floor, taking to their meals on aweekday. She could’ve activated her Byakugan to get an exact count of bothstories, but Hinata wasn’t about to cause a fuss just because she’d been raisedto be overly prepared, even in the most unassuming of situations.

So she looked without the aid of her bloodline, and stillshe saw so much more than anyone else around her. She looked at the people,gauged their expressions, looked deeper for intentions. There was theboisterous group to the back left, just having a good time, beers sloshing andlaughs bellowing. All around there were business peoples, studiously drinkingand engaging in conversation. To the far right two women pressed closetogether, not obscenely so but enough to catch a few glances.

Hinata saw them all and took note of them. Hers wasn’t theonly safety she was concerned with in this place. She was surrounded by peopleshe would risk her life to save.

Her eyes flickered back to Naruto, as though called to him.She found his profile, strong and beautiful and engaging. His eyes were dim,studying Ino’s expression as she spoke. Kiba was shaking his head and Sakurawas joining into Ino’s telling every so often. Hinata found herself entirelydistracted with the angle of Naruto’s jaw, and the heat that image called upwithin her. She watched him as he watched others, noticed the way he seemeddistracted himself, something heavy pressing on his mind. He licked his lips,once, a slow and idle gesture. She watched his brow furrow, consternationspreading subtly over his expression. His lips moved, and it took Hinata longerthan it should have to realize he was speaking, joining his own story withIno’s because Kiba was right, he said, that their missions had beenuncharacteristically rough lately.

“I was…somewhere I can’t talk about but I got my ass handedto me. This massive group of Sound nin, showed up and just came at me immediately, no hesitation—”

“Weird, because you’re so hard to identify.”

Naruto turned to Sakura and pointed as if to shush her,obviously withholding a laugh.  

“So anyways, thereI was just minding my own damn business—”

“In enemy territory,” Ino sang.

“Close enough, clearly, to stir the patrolling guard.” Kibaadded playfully, cleaning his sharp nails out in the open without any sense ofshame.

Naruto ignored them both, as Hinata and Sakura both muffledtheir laughter behind their hands.

“Whatever. So I’m cloning myself like crazy because there’s so freakin’ many of them, right? There’sgotta be a hundred of me and we’re all like, ‘Rasengan!’ ‘Rasen-Shuriken!’‘Kyah!’ And just like totally dominating at first, you should’ve seen it.”

Hinata felt laughter bubbling up into her throat again,amused and so totally charmed with Naruto’s mannerisms, his way of speaking.They were all in their twenties by now, but he still retained such a pure anduntainted kind of childlike innocence when it came to conversation. He didn’tseem to care that they were laughing along with his story, and at his ownpassionate enthusiasm. Hinata felt her heart pounding as she watched with heavyeyes the way he used his hands to help tell the story.

“So I get down to like three of these dudes, really uglyones, and it’s like they’d been playing the whole time. Like they were toyingwith me, or something.” Naruto’s enthusiasm muted in shaded hues, untileveryone’s amusement died down and the realization that Naruto had been ingrave danger became apparent. “They really kicked my ass. I mean, I held my ownfor sure, believe it! But when I got down to the last guy I wasn’t doing sohot. Which is crazy, right? That I’d just so happen to come across some guythat’s buff enough to exhaust me?”

It wasn’t arrogance that Naruto spoke with, and everyone atthe table knew it. It was experience, and knowledge of his own limits—or lackthereof. Naruto’s harrowing amount of chakra was a well-known fact among them,so hearing him tell them himself that he’d been exhausted was more than worrying.Hinata sat up straighter, attention held. Beside her, Sakura’s hand fisted inthe material of her skirt.

“Okay, then what happened?” Kiba asked, leaning forward inhis seat. Naruto’s met his eyes evenly, his smile wry.

“He wiped the floor with me. You all know about my arm—can’treally hide these bandages. Thanks again, Sakura-chan.”

“It was a mean break,” Sakura said. “I don’t want to see ithappen again, Naruto.”

Naruto quirked his lips, innocent but duly chastised.

“There was some internal stuff, too. Don’t really wanna talkabout it. Just—by the end of it, I don’t know how I got him, but I did. We wereboth lying there and—and he took his last breath first. I kinda for realthought I would take mine, too.”

“It was that bad?” Ino asked, and for the first time Hinataheard real concern in her voice. She watched her eyes flick to Sakura, almostunconsciously, then back to Naruto. “Geez, Naruto.”

Naruto scratched at the back of his head, eyes crinkling.“Yeah, it was rough times.”

“Slightly,” Kibagroused, sighing. “I didn’t know you’d almost died.”

“You’re healing well now?” Hinata found her voice, at last,and held Naruto’s eyes when he looked over to her. His smile was lopsided,adorably perched, and his eyes grew heavy the longer he gazed at her.

“Yeah,” he said, voice somehow gentled, “Yeah I’m healingnow. No worries.”

Hinata smiled, relief flooding through her. “Ah, that’s good.”

“So,” Kiba cleared his throat, his voice purposely poised tolighten the mood. He somehow managed to portray both an amused kind ofcuriosity that still managed to seem carelessly blasé. “Did you see a light atthe end of the tunnel, and all that?”

Hinata noticed that it took Naruto a moment longer thanordinary to look away from her, and found herself looking away first. Sheglanced to Kiba and made a face when he smirked knowingly, lifting a hand tocover his visible incisors. He was laughing at her. Typical.

Naruto’s eyes left her and Hinata felt like she couldbreathe again—and when had she begun to feel breathless? She held off onbringing a hand up to her chest, though the image was there in her mind. Ahabit.

“No light,” he explained, and Hinata couldn’t help but toturn back to him just to gauge his expression. It was clear he was rememberingthe fight, the terrifying moment, but Hinata was surprised to find that hedidn’t look fearful in the slightest. If anything, he looked confused. His brow pursed, his lipsfrowning; Hinata watched the way he worked on the words.

“Not at first. Not how you’d think.”

“What?” That was Sakura, speaking at last to something sheapparently didn’t already know. This, then, was news to her; just as it was forthe rest of them sitting around him. The constant haze of tavern noise rose andfell around them as Hinata found herself leaning forward slightly in her seat,curious and captivated. Naruto looked a man frustrated and confused, hisapparent lack of answers gnawing at him. He drew his fingers across his mouthonce, an idle gesture, needing the movement.

“So you did see alight?” Ino, that time.

“Well, yeah. But there wasn’t a tunnel. It’s weird, but it’skind of hard to remember? There was the sky, this great shade of purple.”

“Purple?” Ino asked, voice full of disbelief. Naruto pursedhis lips, trying to conjure something into words.

“Light purple, like—like those flowers! By the hot springs,just east of the Tower. What are those things called—”

“I’m assuming you mean lavender.The ones hanging in arches overhead?”

“Yes!”

Sakura laughed. “Naruto, that’s the flower and the color you’re looking for.Probably.”

Naruto pointed at her, grinning. “Right! Lavender. Totallyknew that. That’s the color the sky was, believe it! And I just remember lyingthere thinking it was all over, and that sucked, truly, because I had—have somuch left I want to do.”

Hinata felt her heart beat like a punch in her chest, aheavy thud. They’d all assumed Naruto’s mission had been bad; his injuries hadbeen awful and debilitating and what proved it all worse, even Naruto’sunshakeable resolve had been temporarily rocked. His first few days of recoveryhad been…difficult. But even then, helping to rehabilitate him, they hadn’tknown it had been this: something soclose to death he’d already had a taste of the shadows after the initial light.He spoke of it almost intimately. He rubbed idly at his nape once more, anervous gesture Hinata had picked up on years back.

“It’s kinda fuzzy still, real hard to remember for somereason. But there was this little ball of light that came down from the sky,and I reached out for it and—it landed in my hand.” Naruto was in full swingnow, enthusiastically recounting his experience with wide eyes still slightlydowncast, and his hands moving with his words. Hinata glanced around their tableto see the amused faces of their friends, and realized they didn’t believe him.They were looking at him with charmed amusement, as though he was deliberatelyor accidentally hilarious, and they didn’t care which it was. Only that theydidn’t believe him. And Hinata understood; it was a fantastical story.

But there was something about his eyes, and the way heseemed so vividly stuck in that past moment; something about the way he spokewith a sense of—wonder.

She believed him.

And there was something more,too. Hinata felt a curious pull towards his words and the recollection of akind of ethereal light. The more he spoke of it, the more breathless Hinatabegan to feel. His explanation, the details he offered of heat and random,inexplicable lyricism pounding along with his pulse had her beginning tounravel. He talked about a warmth he had never before experienced, one thatradiated from within but originated outside of him, and Hinata felt the curioussensation of her body slowly seeping into adrenaline-laced waters, her heartbeginning to race. The more he spoke, the more he explained of his near-deathexperience, the more alarmed Hinata grew.

She remembered this. She couldn’t explain it—could barelywrap her mind around the possibility, and what it could mean, but she remembered this.

Everything he was explaining, she had once felt, too.

“You’re laughing,” Naruto said suddenly, his grin muted,wry. Hinata blinked, startled back into sudden presence, and saw that theirfriends were in fact laughing at him. Not outright, in a gregarious manner. Butthe smiles on their faces and the amused glints in their eyes were enough of atell. Naruto didn’t seem entirely bothered by this, though. Hinata studied hisexpression with sharp eyes, now far more prying than before. She watched theway he shrugged, almost self-consciously, as one corner of his lips curled.There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in his voice when he spoke, even after theirobvious disillusionment with his retelling. He said, “But I could hear them.The music and the voices, somehow. They came from the light, and the lightmoved through me. Man, you can laugh, I don’t care. I know what I saw. What Ifelt.”

The expression on his face matched exactly the suddenunderstanding coursing through Hinata’s body. She could hear his unspokenwords. What I can still feel. What I canstill hear.

She remembered, so very suddenly, the words. The way thatshe had come home from a near-death experience herself and felt that samewarmth, that same mystical musical revelation in her veins. The words, as clearas they were indecipherable in origin, spoken unto her:

Truelove is one soul residing in two bodies.

“Naruto, you were concussed,” Sakura said, not withoutkindness. “I’m sure you believe you saw those things, but they were products oftraumatic brain injury.”

“It happens to all of us,” Chouji attempted to soothe, asIno’s own humor gave way to support.

“We all see different shit, sure, but we see it.” Sheshrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

Hinata watched carefully the way Naruto’s expression tensed,and how he wrestled with his words, trying to find the proper way to iteratehis feelings.

“No,” he said, after a moment of pause, “No that’s not it. Iknow it was real. It wasn’t—yeah I took a few blows to the head, concussed orwhatever, but I know the difference between what’s real and what’s not.”

Sakura’s voice was gentler, this time. Soothing. “We get it,Naruto. We’re not saying you’re lying, or faking it.”

“Yeah man,” Kiba added, reaching out to clap a hand on hisshoulder as somehow stumbled behind him, nearly spilling their drink on him.Kiba didn’t even flinch at the droplets on his own shoulder. “It’s cool. We getit.”

Naruto glanced up and met Hinata’s eyes, the last voice yetto be offered on the subject. He studied her in the same way she studied him,though his was with a calm and steady gaze whereas she felt nearly tangiblyundone. She couldn’t find a response, couldn’t taste the words. They justwouldn’t come, no matter how hard she drew on them. She swallowed and neveronce looked away from him, and saw that his frustration, while potent, wasbrief. He glanced away and his expression shifted, and though he didn’t shrughis heavy shoulders again, the feeling of the gesture was there. Hinata couldsee the conviction in his eyes, the complete and total lack of doubt in hiswords. He didn’t need them to believe him. He’d only just been sharing withthem the experience he’d had.

It seemed that after that everyone was ready for new topicsand new ventures. Some were on their third drinks, while others had moved offto the dancefloor. Hinata was surprised to see Neji out there, swaying inplace, while Tenten laughed and laughed and taught him how to move his body inanything other than harsh angles. She smoothed out his shoulders with adelicate flick of her wrist, a soothing swipe of fingertips, and Hinata,distracted as she was, felt herself smiling at the expression that rose uponNeji’s face. He was blushing.

When Hinata turned back to her table she was surprised to findit nearly empty of its previous patrons. She distinctly remembered Choujimumbling something about going downstairs to get more food, with Shikamarushadowing him along the way. Rock Lee was on the dance floor doing what Hinatacould only describe as the “pool noodle,” and Kiba had rescued Shino from hiscompany and was dragging him over to the bar. Sasuke and Sai had movedsomewhere into the shadows, presumably, and Ino had come around the table tostand by her girlfriend, one hand reaching out to run through Hinata’s hair.

“Well,” Ino sighed. “That was something.”

Sakura turned in her seat and pushed her face against Ino’sside, nuzzling and comforted.

“I worry about him,” Hinata could just barely make the wordsout, muffled as they were against Ino’s side. Ino ran her fingers throughSakura’s hair and only nodded, offering a quiet, “I know.”

Hinata turned her gaze back to the man in question and foundseveral people around him, only a few of which she actually recognized. From anoutsider’s perspective, everything was once again right with the universe. Theplanets orbited the sun, and every light in the room paled in comparison to hisradiance.

They were clearly fans of his, eager and joyful to share hisspace and attention. Hinata felt herself smiling crookedly, admiration spillingheat in her cheeks. But then her expression shifted as sudden intrusivethoughts began to arise. There were so many people looking for his attention,and more, his interest. She watched for a moment the way a young woman movedcloser, reaching out to touch his shoulder. She smiled, batted her eyelashes,and laughed at something Naruto offered haphazardly to the conversation. Hinatawondered, not for the first time, what it was like to be so confident. She’dbeen wondering such a thing nearly all her life, though most especially whenshe went out with Ino and Sakura, who were each their own separate force ofnature.

But there was no use to those lines of thought. She wasgrowing at her own pace, far more confident than she had ever been before, andthat was okay. Hinata was unique, too, and though she was reticent andself-conscious and so often embarrassed, she was honest and sincere and strong,too. Still, it was difficult to silence a voice as loud as self-doubt. The peoplearound Naruto were beautiful, too, and they were probably strong, and wonderfuland everything Naruto would want. Many of them were younger than her, too, newgenerations that knew of Uzumaki Naruto, the hero of Konoha, the legend of theleaf. They hadn’t grown up beside him, seeing his faults, his flaws, hissetbacks. They hadn’t helped him fight to secure his bonds. They hadn’t beenthere with him through the Chuunin exams; Akatsuki; Pain. The Jounin trials.

And though her presence beside him in those momentscertainly did not mean nothing,neither were they singularly great enough to secure her a spot in his heartthat none of those other undeniably incredible Konoha shinobi might also share.You could be someone’s best and closest friend, someone’s most loyal supporterand admirer, and still fall short of the kind of love that called on the soul.

That was the root of the importance of free will; it was allabout choice. And no matter how muchHinata grew or matured or changed with the times, all at Naruto’s side as adear friend and fellow shinobi, the only deciding factor on who he would loveenough to give his whole heart to was of his own choosing.

And there were so many incredible, beautiful candidates.

Hinata turned away with the sour taste of envy on hertongue, and forced herself to shake it off. You don’t feed the monsters youdon’t want to grow. She drank some of her iced tea and focused on the cleansingcoolness that swam through her, the tinge of lemon, the clinking of the icecubes. She turned and heard Ino and Sakura’s chatter, far-shifted from anytopic relative to Naruto, and still found that her mind was singularly focusedon him. On his words, and his experiences, and how they measured up to her own.

The similarities were uncanny, alarmingly so. The intimateyet nearly indescribable way he’d spoke of that warmth was so familiar to herthat she could feel it. It had beenweeks since her own incident; weeks since she’d been left with only a message;weeks since she’d felt the warmth she’d only later been able to faintlyremember. But now, with Naruto so close and his words so incredibly familiar,the feeling was ineffably present.

It wasn’t unusual for Hinata to feel drawn to Naruto, butthis feeling was somehow new. This was more than the usual magnetic pull thatdrew her eyes to him. This was something deeper, at her core, speaking to him.

✧

Naruto had grown up surrounded by people who doubted him; itwas no longer as jarring as it had once been. He knew by now to trust himself. Andbesides, he thought with a slight smile, his story did sound farfetched. Had he really expected them to believe him?

Someone tapped his shoulder, a gentle one-two, and he turnedto see a young woman gazing down at him. Her smile was crooked and her eyesbright, and when he turned completely he saw that she was one of many crowdingaround him. He blinked, lips parting in surprise, showing teeth.

“Hey,” He greeted uncertainly, resisting the urge to lifthis hand and rub at his nape. He leaned his tailbone against the table andtried to meet each of their eyes. He still felt overwhelmed when things likethis happened. That out of all the people in this place, they would seek him out. Just because he’d done his job,and helped save lives. Many lives, sure, a village full of them—but his friendsand his teachers had all done the same, too. He didn’t understand what made himstand out, when before he’d tried everything in the book and remainedoverlooked.

It was a…bizarre change.

“Hi!” She said, and Naruto forgot every one of their namesafter they introduced themselves, even when he tried to repeat them in his headand actively remember them. There were just too many of them, and there wasbarely any room for him to think. Already the girl who’d tapped him—Hana—was askinghim about his evening and what kind of plans he had later on and Naruto reallyjust couldn’t focus.

He kept coming back to his story and how it still felt soreal; even now, in this crowded tavern, safe and surrounded by so manypeople—the complete opposite of the original scene—he felt the warmth under hisskin. It made his heart skip every now and again, the simple reminder of howclose he’d come to something so otherworldly.

“Uh,” he said, when a gap of silence hung between them andhe realized belatedly he was supposed to offer something here. He laughed athimself. “Sorry, I’m not sure. I’m here with a bunch of good friends.”

“Oh,” she said easily, “That’s cool!”

“Yeah,” he said, for lack of anything else. He glancedaround at their group and asked, “Are you all together?”

“No,” a young man said, inching slightly closer.

“No?” Naruto asked, newly baffled. He flicked his eyesaround the semi-circle of strangers once more and found himself laughing, outof his league. “Well, how did that happen?”

“We wanted to talk to you,” Ann (?) said eagerly, pressingforward. She and Hana were close enough that he could feel Hana’s sleeveagainst his elbow, and if Ann had reached out, she would’ve been able to touchhis jaw. He didn’t feel claustrophobic or uncomfortable with their closeness—hewas a physical person himself, often overstepping into other peoples’ personalspace. But he did feel a certain kindof discomfort simply because he didn’t know what these people expected of him.He didn’t know how to act, so he didn’t. He stayed true to form and just didwas Naruto would do.

“That’s weird,” he said, though not without kindness. “Whatdid you all wanna talk about?”

“Well,” Ann stuttered, startled at the question. Her eyesflicked to one of the women at her side and then back to Naruto, uncertain.“Well, anything really.”

“Yeah,” Hana added, not one to be outdone. “What’s new withyou?”

Naruto thought instantly of the light, the warmth, the blooddraining out of his body. For reasons he couldn’t put into words, he lookedover his left shoulder at the spot where just minutes prior Hinata had beensitting, quiet and attentive and as graceful as always. He couldn’t help but togaze at her, often, even when it would’ve been polite to glance around. Theirfriends had been around them and still he hadn’t cared. His eyes were drawn toher, magnetic and electric, both. She was beautiful and kind, gentle andstrong. And she was the only person at the table who had not denied his claim.Maybe, he thought absently, just maybe she believed him.

But she wasn’t sitting there any longer. Her space wasempty, her chair tucked in. Her iced tea was empty and when he glanced around alast time he didn’t see her nearby. He turned back and smiled weakly. For somereason, his recent brush with death and the resulting glimpse ofsomething—something other wasn’t atopic he felt comfortable broaching with strangers. It wasn’t that he wasafraid they’d doubt him too, or that they’d judge him, think of him differentlybecause of it.

It just felt too…intimate.

“It’s been kinda boring for me lately, ya know? Missionsain’t always fun. And outside of that, well, I guess I’ve been spendin’ a lotof time with Iruka-sensei lately. Especially now that I have time off—uh, yeah.Just, more time lately. He likes to go down to the vendors and bargain withthem, though I don’t really get why, because even when he gets the numbers downhe buys more than he told me he would and they end up getting more than theyoriginally asked for. He’s weird like that, sometimes.”

A young woman several inches taller than everyone elsesmiled, adding, “I hear Iruka-sensei is as strict as ever at the Academy.”

Naruto smiled. “I wouldn’t doubt it!”

“Is he still strict with you, Naruto-san?”

Laughing, Naruto asserted, “He’s the strictest with me, believe it!”

“That’s kind of hard to believe,” Hana laughed, bringing herfist up to cover her lips.

“You should hear the lectures he gives me!” Naruto appealed,before going into a brief but detailed reiteration of his most recent trip tothe hot springs with Iruka-sensei. Iruka was the only father Naruto had everknown, and he loved him dotingly. Naruto knew that his stern nature,exemplified in Naruto’s presence, was one of the ways that Iruka showedaffection. He wanted those he loved to do well, to constantly chase their bestselves. It was a strict road to follow, but he offered encouragement andsupport throughout the entire journey. Naruto was the man he was today becauseIruka had been there for him—when no one else was.

When the people around him began to join in, offering theirown stories to blend in with his, he found his attention once again pulledaside. It began in his fingertips, a tingling heat that brushed up against hisveins. It trailed up his arms and corded around his ribcage. The warmthsurrounded his heart and he felt an all-consuming calm, his heartbeat slowing,relaxing. He turned against and his eyes cast over the room, searching. Thewarmth pulsed; bright, colorless eyes across the room. Was that—

“Is that Uchiha Sasuke?” One of the women interruptedanother, and Naruto’s attention returned to her with avid amusement. Hecould’ve laughed for the familiar tone and the expression on her face, bothsuch common occurrences when they were kids.

When Naruto turned back to them, most were looking somewhereover his shoulder, though several continued to gaze wonderingly at him. Heblinked at them, his eyes falling on Hana’s direct gaze. She smiled, and he hadno idea what to do with that.

“Speaking of stern,” someone said, not without humor.“That’s definitely him.”

“What, really?”

“I can’t believe he’d come here, of all places.”

“Doesn’t seem the type, right?”

“It’s a fair place to brood, though,” Hana offered at last,though her eyes never shifted. It had been a long time since someone haddescribed Sasuke as brooding, thoughhe had never not been so. As such, nostalgia coiled through Naruto and he didlaugh, a little, as he nodded and pointed over his shoulder where Sasuke undoubtedlywilted against the shadowed wallpaper, uncomfortable and out of place. Narutodidn’t even have to look to know he was there, right where he’d targeted. Heknew him too well. It was a good reminder, though, that he should probablyrescue him soon. At least for a moment, so he wasn’t so uncomfortable.

“Sure is,” Naruto said, a little belatedly. “This type ofmeet-up isn’t really his thing, ya know?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” someone added, sounding glib. “He looksplenty comfortable to me.”

Naruto blinked, and the woman beside Hana—what was her name?Ann?—snorted.

She said, “I didn’t know he was so close to the Hyuugaprincess.”

It was the strangest sensation of breathlessness that cameover Naruto in that moment, as he turned over his shoulder to see what theywere accurately describing. His eyes searched for a fleeting moment beforefinding them, tucked close by necessity of space in the shadowed alcove awayfrom the dancefloor and the tables, both. Hinata was there at Sasuke’sshoulder, discussing something Naruto couldn’t even pretend to guess, her handsadding detail to the words. Sasuke leaned towards her, strangely receptive toher body language and whatever it was she was discussing. Naruto felt his heartin his throat.

Before there was suspicion, there was simple joy: that twoof his best friends were getting along well with one another. And of all hisfriends, it was Sasuke, no less! He was the most stubborn person Naruto knew,and though countless fawned over him and chased after him, he was notoriously fastidiousabout who he allowed to get close to him. Pickier even with who he sought outhimself.

Had he gone to Hinata? Or had Hinata gone to him? And whydid the answer to those questions hold such weight in Naruto’s heart?

He felt a raw, uncomfortable kind of ache in his throat andswallowed, pushing himself away from the table. He turned back to the peoplearound him and offered them his most winning smile, at last succumbing to hishabit of idly scratching at his hair.

“I guess you’re right!” He said lightly, his eyes crinkling.“I’m gonna head over and ask Hinata what her secret is. Sasuke-bastard sorarely socializes at these things!”

“Oh, uh, okay then.” Hana seemed startled by his dawningretreat, and tried for a moment to stall. Ultimately, though, Naruto turned awayand she said only, “Well, talk to you soon, Naruto-san.”

She held his eyes, and he thought for a moment that maybethere was something significant to the way she looked at him before he shruggedhis shoulders and lifted a hand in passing.

“Sure. Bye then!”

He missed entirely the way her expression fell, and wasalready turning back to Hinata when one of Hana’s friends reached out to herconsolingly. He moved through the crowded room with renewed purpose, offeringSakura a transitory, distracted smirk when she raised her eyebrows at hispassing before heading straight towards that alcove. The closer he got theclearer he could see Hinata’s expression, and the way Sasuke blinked down ather in a way that wasn’t totally apathetic. Whatever she was talking about hadher animated, her hands coming up to show a certain kind of sign before a burstof quiet laughter that had even Sasuke cracking a smile.

Naruto’s strides broadened and by the time he made it closeenough to garner their attention, he heard the last bits of Hinata explainingsome trip with Mirai involving chakra control.

“She’s quite wonderful,” she said, as Naruto came to standbeside them. Hinata glanced over and again with more surprise, lifting to tucka strand of hair behind her ear. She bowed her head slightly to greet him, andSasuke merely flicked his eyes over him and away in acknowledgement.

“Hey,” he offered, nodding to Sasuke but turning to Hinata.She smiled at him, a warm greeting.

“Naruto-kun,” she explained, with an open gesture to includeSasuke. “We were just discussing Mirai—Kurenai’s daughter. She’s quite thefireball.”

“I’ve heard, yeah,” he nodded, seamlessly moving into theirconversation. He shoved his fisted hands in his pockets and leaned back on hisheels, thinking back to what he’d heard from Iruka about his most outstandingstudents. “Iruka’s mentioned her before.”

Hinata smiled. “I was just telling Uchiha-san that he wouldlike her. She’s quick.”

“She won’t be quick enough.” Sasuke said blandly, and Hinatalaughed.

“I don’t just mean in physically, Uchiha-san.”

Naruto snorted, shaking his head when Sasuke turned to himwith that look he sometimes got.

“Typical competitive bastard,” Naruto laughed, and Sasukeclicked his tongue.

“As if you’re any less competitive, dumbass.”

“Maybe not,” Naruto admitted easily, rocking back onto hisheels again, fluid and at ease in their company. He turned to Hinata andwinked, playful and drawn to the way her cheeks gained color in response. “Butat least I know better than to challenge a kid.”

“I wasn’t challenging her—” Sasuke began, before Hinatalaughed lowly and quickly added, “Sorry to contradict, Naruto-kun, but wasn’tit you who recently had a run-in with Academy students that resulted in aformal reprimand?”

Sasuke choked on his beverage of choice and Hinata laughedbehind her palm as Naruto sputtered, hands coming out to wave in the way.

“Wait, wait,” he pleaded, “That’s so not fair!”

“What did you do? Fight them?” One delicate black eyebrowlifted and the humor in Sasuke’s eyes made Naruto stand taller. Hinata shookher head and before Naruto could explain the situation, she spoke.

“He didn’t fight them,” she explained easily. “He merelytaught them to gamble.”

“I made a wager,”Naruto said exasperatedly. “Big deal!”

“Naruto-kun,” Hinata smiled, “They were ten year olds.”

“Old enough to carry around chump change,” Naruto grumbled,and Hinata’s shocked amusement pulled at his heartstrings, even as she began tolaugh at him in outright exasperation. Sasuke continued to shake his head, armscoming up to cross over his chest as his expression seemed to document everyfacet of this for future recollection and black mail.

“Dumbass,” he said with a smirk. “Did you even win?”

Naruto’s temperature rose into his cheeks and he turneddeliberately to Hinata, his eyes pleading as he changed the subject.

“So!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “How aboutthat crazy mission I had recently, right? The one where I almost died, but totally took down the bad guysin the coolest way possible?”

Sasuke sighed, rolling his eyes and peeling himself awayfrom the wall. He turned to Hinata with a nod and said, “I’m not listening tothis story again. See you.” Andwithout another word he moved out of the shadows and somewhere into the crowdedroom. Naruto turned to Hinata with a careless shrug, as if to say, what can you do?

She offered him a kind smile, turning to face himcompletely. She leaned back against the wall slightly, and Naruto instinctivelydropped his eyes to take in her street clothes. She dressed modestly, not muchskin showing, but her shirt clung to her curves and when she leaned slightlyoff-center he could see a glimpse of skin at her waist. She was beautiful. He’dalways known that, seen it. But for the past few months she’d begun to look differentto him, somehow. He had trouble understanding it; all he knew was that onemoment she was there, the most beautiful girl in the classroom and so out ofhis league he didn’t even realize there was potential for anything more thanfriendship between them, and then—

And then she was everywhere. He saw her everywhere and hedidn’t shy away from looking. And when she was gone, away on mission or simplysomewhere else, he found her in his thoughts. She was everywhere.

And with her, a warmth.

“Naruto-kun,” she said, her quiet voice almost drowned outunder the sea of voices around them. He moved closer to hear her better, andhad the fleeting thought that if he reached out to her, he’d be able to touchher cheek. But would she reach back? “About your mission,” She began, andNaruto waved his hands again, ushering the topic aside. He rubbed at the napeof his neck just for something else to do with his hands and laughed, just thisside of self-deprecating.

“It’s okay, we don’t really have to talk about it again. Ionly really said it to change the subject, and I knew the bastard would getpissy.”

Hinata’s smile was gentle, and kind. “I understand. But, um,if it’s okay I did actually want to talk to you about it. Alone.”

Naruto felt himself perking up, standing taller and leaning towardsher engagingly. He couldn’t imagine what she had to say about his most recentand bizarre mission, but he was curious beyond belief and fully open to listening.He smiled, curling his fingers at her encouragingly.

“Of course. What d’ya wanna talk about?”

“Well,” and here Naruto’s eyes flickered over her expression,and the way blush spread through her cheeks. Naruto felt his heart in histhroat and a curious kind of warmth spreading, and spreading, and was nearly onhis toes waiting for her to explain her reaction. He watched her fidget for amoment, twisting her fingers and biting her lip, before turning to him with hershoulders drawn back, resolute and unafraid. She lifted her chin slightly andsaid, “I believe you.”

Naruto’s smile was crooked and lazy, his eyes growingheavy-lidded with warmth. It was such a simple thing, she believed him, but it felt significant and as though he’d neededit. It felt redeeming, somehow, even though he’d thought his was the onlyconviction he’d needed. Hers felt like a warming balm on his skin, soothing andhealing.

“You do,” he grinned, watching her nod.

“I do,” she agreed, and right when he felt himself reveling inher faith in him, she ducked her head and said, “There’s something else, too.”

Naruto tilted his head, curious and encouraging.

Hinata seemed nervous to explain, her gaze still downcastfor several moments before she met his eyes again. Her expression seemed toplead with him, as at last she finally said, “It might sound even crazier, Iknow it, but I had a similar experience on my last mission.”

Naruto’s heart hammered in his chest, thud-thud-thuddingaway as he tried to make sense of her words. A similar experience? She couldn’tmean the light—the warmth; so did that mean—

“Hinata,” he breathed, moving closer. He reached out at lastand rested his hand on her shoulder, studying her expression for fear oranything else that might paint him a clearer picture.

“Did you almost—was it so bad that you—”

“I had lethal wounds, yes.”

Naruto felt knocked over, turned to ash. That somewhere inthe world Hinata had laid nearly lifeless on the ground with no one there tocomfort her or assist her, broke his heart. Ishould’ve been there, he thought irrationally. I could’ve protected her when she actually needed protecting. Butthere was no use thinking like that now, with her alive and safe and withinreach, here and now. He had his hand on her shoulder, felt the warmth of her inthe palm of his hand. She was safe.

But at one point, she had been in such danger her life hadbeen at risk.

“I didn’t know it was that bad—I mean, you were covered inwounds and you had to rehabilitate but you healed so fast. You never said—youcould have died.”

“It was bad,” Hinata said easily, and then shrugged. “But Igot through it.” She grinned and almost amusedly added, “That’s not thesimilarity I was talking about, though.”

Naruto’s words stopped dead and his mind whirredincessantly, coming up with nothing certain. She’d had a near-death experience,just like he had, but that wasn’t thesimilarity she was focusing on?

Hinata hesitantly reached up and rested her fingers over hison her shoulder, glancing down as she carefully pulled his hand away. He benttowards her slightly and watched the way she watched him, flicking her eyes upto gauge his expression even as some people jostled them nearby. Her eyes fellonce more to his hand, turning it over so that his palm faced the sky. Shetrailed her fingertips over the lines of his palm and he felt tantalizing chillsrace down his spine. She curled his fingertips in towards his palm, as if to helphim keep his hold on something precious there beneath the cracks. She looked upat him in baffled wonder.

“A light,” she said slowly, as if just now remembering andfeeling nothing more than reverence. “A warmth.”

Naruto shot upright immediately, startled and amazed at her admission.

“You said, ‘a similar experience,’” he said.

She nodded. “Yes. A near-death experience, and I hadn’tremembered anything but the words for so long, until just—just now. Thepresence of a light that shone brighter than anything I’d ever seen. And awarmth that was unlike anything I’ve ever felt. And together, there was this…”

“Music,” Naruto answered.

His heart raced in his chest, in his ears, blood rushing untilhe could just barely hear that fleeting symphony—the mystery he had yet tosolve since the moment of his awakening from that mission. What were the wordsthat sang through his veins? Why did they feel so incredibly important, and howcould Hinata have experienced something so incredibly bizarre in just the sameway that he had? He found himself marveling over her, seeing her with new eyes,noticing more than just her luminous nature and her gentle, beautiful kindness.He reached out and trailed his fingertips over her cheekbones, watching hergasp, and he remembered lavender skies. He felt the heat of her cheek and knewa similar warmth in the very heart of him. He looked into her beautiful,bizarre, colorless eyes and he remembered the way the light had engulfed him ina heat that didn’t burn but ached.

And it was sudden and novel and incredible when he realized, oh.

He loved her.

“I know that light,” he said, even as he moved closer toher, staring down at her in furrowed wonder. There was no hesitation in him. Hedidn’t take the time to wonder over his own feelings or question them. He merelyacted on them. He loved her. And suddenlythe most important thing in the world to him was this: if she loved him inreturn.

His voice quieted but he knew that she would hear him: “Iknow the warmth of that touch.”

With apparent uncertainty, she reached out and hesitatedbefore placing her palm over his heart. She glanced up at him, probably to makesure she wasn’t overstepping any boundaries, and when she met his eyes he madesure that she couldn’t look away. His eyes felt wet, filled with a stunningkind of affection as they trailed over her face, noted every beautiful feature.He couldn’t quite rap his head around the fact that Hyuuga Hinata, renowned asone of the strongest kunoichi in Konoha’s history, heiress of her clan, and thekindest, gentlest, most striking woman he’d ever seen had shared aonce-in-a-lifetime near-death experience with him.

What in all creation could that possibly mean?

The moment he thought it was the moment he knew the answer.He didn’t need to hear the words in the song of his veins to know it, but hecraved them. He looked at Hinata and in the sometimes mystical way thatintuition can be dead-on, even before she spoke the words into the spacebetween them, he knew it.

“The music isn’t like normal music, though. I know thissounds bizarre—it is—but it feels like it’s…in my veins. Coursing through me. Iknow the words and I remember the light and the warmth but I couldn’t feel themuntil—”

She looked at him and the love he felt in his heart wasreflected back at him through her timeless eyes. He loved her. It was so muchmore than that. It was the most brilliant of lights shone on the two of them,and a warm and kindling fire set beneath them; incentives to show them theobvious they’d somehow missed or overlooked.

Naruto said, “I know the music. But I don’t know themessage.”

Hinata’s lips parted to speak the missing words and Narutothought of homecomings.

“The light,” she said quietly, and Naruto watched the wayhis warmth reached her. “It spoke to me.”

Naruto reached out and gave her the option to step into thewarmth of his chest or remain against the wall, and folded joyously around herwhen she chose the former. He felt her lips against his collarbone, and heardthe words as if in a stupor.

It felt to him like they were floating, completely andtotally separate from that plane of existence. Had he looked down beneath theirfeet, maybe he would’ve seen the Earth, a blanket of charcoal space wrappedaround them, with holes bleeding light into existence. They paled, somehow, incomparison to the light that shone from Naruto and Hinata pressed heart toheart in a crowded room.

Her words were a long-awaited revelation against his skin.

“True love is one soulresiding in two bodies.”

Naruto breathed out, and in, and together their hearts beatas one.

[anoddreindeer]

Upon Reflection,

Tag almost missed it, at first. It was such a little thing.

To be fair, there was a lot going on. A person from Bryn's childhood, here? Experiments done on elemental-human hybrids? Twenty thousand leagues of sea slowly starting to invade the hallway outside of the lab? That was like twenty different levels of awful all trying to crowd his brain at once.

All of it dropped away for a single crystallized instant when he saw Bryn lean down next to Fresca with her compact open.

Tag had still been reeling from his confrontation with his half-dad when Bryn's mother had given her the powerful little artifact. Something that shows a person's true face, her mother had said, and it'd been hard to miss the first time Bryn had looked into it. He'd been in a position to see the brilliant light of the Summoner that he'd first seen in the deep phase state less than half an hour earlier, and it had still been enough to drive the air from his lungs - and a paralyzing spike of fear into his brain.

You are one of us, his half-dad had told him, you just don't remember.

He had rejected the notion at the time, but a little seed of doubt had planted itself in his head. He was Tag, Parallel to a Fire Summoner, human. He was not some all-consuming juggernaut here to destroy existence, not some weird and terrifying form of blackened ichor hardened into something that shouldn't exist in this reality. Two hands, two feet, one head, a slightly goofy-looking face - that was him, that was Tag. Just a human.

But.

Asahel Keturah Pipe-Wolferstan had claimed to be a sort of father to him. What kind of human had a thing like that for a dad? Even a half-dad?

Tag could just see Fresca's reflection in the compact. Her form looked washed out, faded in a way that spoke of not enough substance to make a whole person, which would have been concerning enough on its own. Tag, however, could see something else in her that made his blood freeze; thin threads of ichor, none of them big enough to be a whole snake but still very much present in her body that pulsed sluggishly in time with her heartbeat. He wasn't sure if Bryn could see them or not, couldn't remember if the mirror worked for just the holder or each viewer separately, but he felt a chill pass through him at what she might see if she looked at him with that artifact.

Bryn stood up from Fresca and turned to face them. "Do any of you want to use this thing? I wouldn't use it on any of you without your permission, it just seems like an invasion of privacy," she said in that frank and honest way of hers and Tag exhaled an internal sigh of relief. He could refuse-

"Sure, I could do with some rouge," Puq said brightly as he took the mirror. Tag slid a glance over to Rex, and saw the interest in her eyes as well. He knew in that instant, without a shred of doubt, that if this continued then Rex would want to look into the compact as well - and then they would expect him to.

Tag didn't know what he'd see if he did. Maybe he would see just his face; maybe he would see the plain human face with its plain human eyes and plain human nose and plain human mouth. Maybe he was only Tag, human kid. 

But. 

Maybe it would show something else. Maybe he wasn't just Tag.

And that idea terrified him most of all.

"I'm just, sorry, I'm just - I'm trying really hard to be a hero and cool, but I just can't stop thinking about how-" how much he didn't want to know if he wasn't really human  "-how far below the surface we are, and the fact that there is water pouring in outside this lab door."

Rex, Bryn, and Gwennaig all turned to stare at the door while Puq closed the compact and look a little sad - in as much as a huge proto-humaniform lump of Void crystal could look sad, anyway - and Tag felt some of the tension inside of him release. He felt a little bad about talking over Puq's difficulties, and rushed to try and fix his error in speaking over what the elemental was going through.

"Puq, I want you to get separated if you want to get separated. I, ah, want to get rid of this - of this slug-worm, but I think we're in a pinch y'all."

Puq handed the compact silently back to Bryn, who tucked it away inside her robes before Gwennaig started to speak again. Tag let himself go a little limp with relief. On the one hand, having a confirmation that he was human through and through would be a relief; on the other hand, if he saw something else in the mirror...

If he saw something else in the mirror, then he wouldn't just be Tag.

And that was the worst thought of all.

[xlindou]

Awakening

It’d been a long two years since Dariel had come to the sanatorium. At first, Lindou spiraled back and forth between wanting to tell him her secrets or keeping it all to herself. Once she’d revealed the truth, however, she realized she had a new problem.

She wasn’t sure when exactly the feelings first came to her once again… But once it started, it was difficult to stop them. Like a puzzle, the pieces began to fall back into place, as they once were. Like before, she began to harbor these strange feelings for him that she almost couldn’t understand, but they were there. Despite the length of time they’d been together, however, she was unable to act on them or even allow the feelings to exist without a sense of fear. Lindou, who’d once been idealistic about the idea of falling in love, was now hesitant of the idea of it.

It was nothing Dariel had done that made her so unsure. Rather, it was the past that followed her, seemingly haunting her at every turn she tried to make. While those feelings had dissolved away, she’d once held similar feelings for False. She’d been burdened with those feelings for so long that the things that had happened to her and the things she’d felt had come to shape the way she viewed love. She couldn’t help but fear that she’d be rejected, hurt, or left completely and utterly destroyed by her own feelings. On the other hand, Lindou was afraid of not being able to move forward. She was afraid of being trapped in a cage, tormented by her own memories and worries, unable to leave it all behind and start anew.

For hours, Lindou stayed in her bed, consumed by her own thoughts and fears. The candle at her bedside had long been extinguished, and by this time, she should’ve been asleep. But, her eyes could not stay shut, as they seemingly searched the darkened room for an answer to her problem. It only took a few more minutes for Lindou to reach her limit, and eventually she drifted off for the night.

—–

The dream began as any other did. Lindou was walking through the meadow, searching desperately for a way out. In the back of her mind, she knew that there wasn’t one. She’d searched the meadow countless times and was never able to find an exit. After circling the field once, she felt her legs give out from an exhaustion that was both physical and emotional. She tumbled into the field, feeling the edges of the paper flowers pressing against her skin. They weren’t like the soft, rounded edges of real petals… They were fake… beautiful from a distance but painful to touch.

Lindou thought that the dream would surely end here… but it didn’t. She had no strength left in her body to stand, so she sat there among the field, waiting for the dream to come to an end. But, it had only just begun. Soon enough, she heard a set of footsteps traveling through the garden. Lindou was sure she knew who it was… The only person to ever visit her in the garden was False, but that had been such a long time ago, some time before the fall of Clan. She wasn’t able to bring herself to look up until she heard them stop in front of her. They didn’t say anything, so she raised her head to confirm the individual’s identity.

To her surprise, it wasn’t False. It wasn’t even Silane or either of her parents to come and visit her. Instead, it was one of the last people she’d want to invade her dreams: Dariel. Even when they made eye contact, neither of them spoke. Instead, he held a small bag out to her. Lindou studied it for a moment before grasping it in her own hand and pulling on the string so it opened. Peeking inside, she saw what appeared to be seeds. Confused, she glanced up at the other who was already moving out of the field to the pathway. As soon as she forced herself to her feet, she turned her attention back to the spot where she’d sat. There’d hardly been a trace of her. The stems had bounded upwards, unable to be crushed by her.

With a sigh, she moved out of the field to stand on the stone path that ran through the center of the field. Still no words were exchanged, even when Dariel knelt by one of the flowers that already inhabited her garden. Lindou shook her head, knowing he’d soon realize that any effort to clear away the flowers would be futile. They remained there and no force could remove them from the ground. Once he realized that for himself, he turned to her bearing an expression that was a mix of frustration and sadness. However, it was no surprise to Lindou. For all the time she’d spent here, she knew that for some reason, the flowers were practically indestructible.

Not wanting to watch him further confuse himself with the flowers, she wandered down the path, towards a small shed, the only building in the whole garden. She walked past it, staring blankly at the endless rows of flowers. While there was no way out of this garden, she never thought that real flowers could live among it. There were simply no room for any, as the whole garden had been consumed by the immovable paper flowers.

But, even though she had her own doubts, she turned around and returned to Dariel, who was still bent over a small group of flowers, peering down towards the soil. As she approached him, she noticed a small speck of green poking through the dirt. When Dariel saw her, he grinned at her from over the newly planted sprout, evidently proud that he had done something. For a moment, she was in awe. There was a real flower in her garden. But, as he poured the water over it, she realized that the sprout would soon die. They could water it plenty, but the sun wouldn’t be able to reach it. Without a doubt, it would die.

Time passed and Lindou’s prediction soon became a reality. When they’d gone to water it a second time, they found that the color had faded from a bright green to dull brown. What once stretched upwards, now drooped over in its spot. 

Now, Lindou thought the other would surely give up. He’d attempted to plant his own flowers there, but it had failed. There was nothing more to try… or at least she thought. He was on his feet once more, wandering down the path to the shed on the outskirts of the field. Eventually, she stood and trudged down the path after him, now curious to see if there was anything in the building that could be of use to them. Upon entering, Lindou stayed by the entrance as Dariel walked the perimeter of the interior. He took a few objects off the back shelf before scanning over the rest and leaving with her following close behind. He stopped at the flowerbed next to the shed, dropping the objects he’d retrieved on the ground next to him: some rope and stakes.

Lindou watched as he buried the stakes into the ground next to the flowers. Then, he tied the already existing flowers out of the way, revealing a fresh patch of dirt that the sun could now touch. She crouched across from him, now seeing his plan unfolding in her mind. It’d be a timely plan… in no way could they fill the field quickly, but with patience it could happen. This time, Lindou joined Dariel in spreading the seeds. They each reached for their own bags, placing the seeds in the ground before covering them in a layer of dirt and watering them. Not before long, they had a row of green peeking through the brown.

Now, the sprouts didn’t fail and they continued to grow until they surpassed the height of the flowers that had previously blocked them. They bloomed proudly in a long row with rounded petals that were soft when Lindou touched them and filled the area with a sweet aroma. 

Now, Lindou understood it. She didn’t have to leave this place behind to be happy. She didn’t have to forget the past or destroy it and continue on as if it had never happened. She didn’t have to start anew to be happy. Rather, she could discover her own little piece of happiness among the ruins of fear, doubt, and sadness.

Finally.

Lindou had done it…

They had done it…

They made a real garden.

—–

Usually, Lindou’s dreams upset her, making her afraid to sleep at night. For once, however, a dream made Lindou smile, giving her hope for the future. She realized now that she didn’t have to find a way to abandon the past to be happy. But, her feelings of hope soon went away when she realized that she still felt so afraid of the idea of having feelings for someone again. In the past, it’d left her vulnerable, hurt, and manipulated. And while it was irrational, she couldn’t help but associate that fear with what she was feeling now. But, False and Dariel were two different people. Silane had reminded her of that in the past, but at the time, Lindou couldn’t bring herself to think of it too deeply. But now, she sat there and began to unravel it all.

Even if it wasn’t False’s intention, Lindou always felt the definite hierarchy with False... no matter what he said or did, they’d always be a master and helper. She’d spent too long obeying his every last wish and depending on him to keep her alive… For centuries, it had been ingrained in her mind this way. A simple conversation wouldn’t change what three hundred years of damage had done to her. Whatever she felt for False, may it be love or admiration wasn’t healthy… not when her life had always been on the line, not when she never felt his equal. Lindou knew now; Her mind was horribly broken when it came to False. All these years she had been lying to herself. It wasn’t love. It was just power and manipulation. Now she understood… The feelings she had for him didn’t come from a good place.

After all, love was not power or manipulation. It was not loneliness or sadness. It wasn’t pain or suffering. It was so many things that she hadn’t experienced during her three hundred years in the sanatorium, yet had begun to feel once again. Love was acceptance. It was a comforting embrace after a seemingly insurmountable event. It was smiles and laughter. It was a hand on her shoulder telling her everything was alright. It was all this and so much more, which Dariel had shown her in their short time together.

Thank you.

At last, Lindou was ready to plant her own garden.