#HERE ROOTING FOR 'HAND' TO REACH ITS DESTINATION FINALLY

[meimi-haneoka]

~Yuna D. Kaito~

「俺が欲しかったのは…」

#card captor sakura #cardcaptor sakura #clear card arc #ccsakura #yuna d. kaito #my fanart #My fanarts #who is really surprised at this point #no tell me honestly #lol #of course I'd put him on the other side #this new double fanart is so full of concepts and themes I'm surprised it didn't come out a mess #I guess I was capable to find a way to express everything with few elements #don't worry if you don't get all of them #anyways this was inspired by marriage - maaya sakamoto - the latest chapter - and much more #HERE ROOTING FOR 'HAND' TO REACH ITS DESTINATION FINALLY

[milswrites]

Somewhere only we know

~ Azriel X Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel comes to visit you for the first time in a while.

Warnings: Angsty goodness

He could hear it now; your call beckoning him closer.

The dulcet tones of your laughter echoing amongst the evening birdsong as Azriel approached.

It was a path the shadowsinger had walked a hundred times before. The bowing oak trees and the familiar tune of the flowing beck all working to guide Azriel towards his final destination.

Towards you.

Yet even the forest wasn't safe from the golden hands of time. The gnarled roots and overgrown canopy a glaring sign that it had been far too long since Azriel had last come to see you.

Where he was once able to run freely alongside you, Azriel now found himself uncomfortably squeezing through the wild underbrush. Wings tightly curling into his back out of fear of catching them on the thicket of brambles which now lined the once clear path.

Perhaps a year was too long to wait.

Perhaps Azriel should have visited you sooner.

Your voice continued to grow louder with each step taken, the wind beginning to carry the recognizable scent of your sweet perfume.

Azriel inhaled deeply, allowing the delicate aroma of honeysuckle and jasmine to wash away his worries. A calming peace, that only ever makes itself known when in the presence of your company, began to warmly settle in his chest.

"Hello my love"

Azriel called softly into the air, the gentle twinkling of a wind chime greeting him in response as the evening sun broke through the canopy above to lay a welcoming kiss onto his cheek.

"I've missed you," the shadowsinger continued, moving towards the fallen trunk of a tree in order to take a seat, "I'm sorry I've been gone so long."

Another melodic chime answered, assuring Azriel that his absence needed no excuse.

"But I couldn't miss spending my birthday with you, I don't think you would have let me"

The wind laughed in reply, a soothing breeze coming to caress his smiling cheek as Azriel lifted a shaky hand to meet the ghost of your own.

Eyes beginning to water at your phantom touch, the male cleared his throat before reaching into the pocket of his leathers. "I've brought you a letter," Azriel started to explain, pulling out the carefully folded piece of paper, "of all the things you've missed since I was last here. I wrote it all down just so I didn't forget to tell you anything."

The orange sun glowed a little brighter, so as to provide Azriel with enough light to read his letter. The forest falling into a peaceful silence in order to ensure that you heard every word the shadowsinger had to say.

"Feyre is pregnant again, I think Rhys would kill me if I didn't tell you that first," Azriel grinned at the smile of excitement he could picture you wearing at the news, taking the time to burn the image into his mind before continuing, "Nyx is convinced it's a girl, and if it is her wants her to be named after you of course. He always talks about his favourite auntie."

Azriel allows himself to pause, needing a moment to calm his wavering breath before he could say any more, the harsh lines of a frown beginning to cross his face.

"Cas says hello. He'd come here if he could, you know that. But I don't think I'm quite ready to share this place with anyone else yet. He's fine, Nesta too. They're kept busy by little Sofia most of the time, ever since she learnt how to fly she's been wreaking havoc all over Velaris."

A robin flittered down from the trees, perching by where Azriel was sat, its small head tilted in silent understanding. Appreciating the company, a slight smile flickered across Azriel's lips as he turned his watery eyes back to the letter grasped between his trembling hands.

"Elain and Lucien are finally back from their trip around Prythian. They went to Spring - to that meadow I took you to for our anniversary. She . . . she brought me back some flowers, said they reminded her of you."

Azriel's tears finally began to fall as he carefully folded the letter once more, tucking it away into the safety of his leathers, placing it into the pocket right above his heart.

"And me . . ." Azriel started, voice cracking as he tried to recall what he had done since he was last here, his surroundings taking him back to a time when you had once been sat here with him, "Well I've not really done anything at all."

The male's hands move to clasp onto the two rings resting on a chain around his neck, thumb working to brush the cool metal in the hope of receiving some comfort, "Some days it feels like time has scarcely moved at all . . . On those days I like to close my eyes and picture you - us - here in the forest. Running through the trees like we used to do, hiding from our responsibilities for as long as we could."

Azriel deeply exhaled as he watched the robin fly away, tears still falling as he continued to speak, "And then I open my eyes . . . and remember you're gone" Azriel's words are interrupted by a harrowing sob falling from his lips, "I don't know how much longer I can do this. I'm getting old my love, sometimes I worry that one day I'll come back here and you won't recognize me anymore. That our love will fall victim to the hands of time just as the forest has."

The chimes twinkle once more, a gentle reminder that you are never truly gone, the ever-changing wind whispering promises that your love was one to last for eternity.

"I know" Azriel sadly smiles, letting go of the rings in order to brush away his tears, the thought of your heartbroken expression enough to dry his eyes, "I just miss you, that's all. Not a day goes by where I don't think of you."

The trees lightly rustle in response.

Azriel stayed to talk to you long into the night. The conversation never fading, nor growing dull, even when the moon had said its goodbyes and the sun had risen once more.

If time was all Azriel could offer you these days, then his time was what you would receive. For each hour spent in your special spot, was another hour of keeping your memory alive.

Another hour Azriel got to spend with you.

When the time came for Azriel to reluctantly leave the forest, his responsibilities too pressing to ignore for much longer, the shadowsinger whispered a promise into the wind that he would return once more. Swearing that you would not have to wait so long to see him again.

With each step he took, the scent of rosemary and sweet pea grew stronger, your calming aroma fading as Azriel walked further and further away.

And as Azriel turned to look at you once more, he could have sworn he heard you calling after him. Words unintelligible as your voice became lost amongst the birdsong.

But he could feel it, the assurance that he wasn't alone.

The piece of you that had been trapped here, now safely tucked within the confines of his heart.

So carry you home he would.

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel oneshot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel imagine #azriel angst

[terribletoad]

Within Reach and Far Beyond

In another world you are an elven princess, sent off to take part in your arranged marriage, traveling the country side with Konig as your knight in shining armor. As you come closer to your destination you realize that you are not ready for your adventure with the giant beside you to end.

No real warnings yet unless theres something I should add.

Hope y’all like it! I’ll get part two done when I can!

ONE

In the far East, past the plentiful farmland outside the Capitol, beyond the lush, rolling hillside that grows into treacherous, snow capped mountain peaks; even further, deep in the valley that dips below and bleeds into a vast wetland, lies a growing city belonging to the elves. While the elven people closer to the Capitol would still disparagingly call it a settlement, it had seen a handful of human generations pass and become long forgotten to the elves who rooted themselves there.

Nearly centered within the city walls, behind a barrier of its own, was the estate in which you lived. The stark white home stood out, surrounded by a large, perfectly manicured courtyard, of which its perimeter you had nearly never been allowed to cross. Certainly never alone. You were very rarely alone anymore, now that you were old enough to cause trouble. These days you were often doted upon to the point of annoyance to keep you compliant, and compliant you stayed.

Mostly, it didn't cross your mind that you were truly imprisoned here. Not until you were under your covers at night, mind racing from one thing to another as you tried to allow sleep to take you. Every so often a memory from several years ago comes creeping into your mind, causing your heart to race. A memory of you, walking along the stone wall that was at least a foot taller than you, broken every few feet or so by a small aperture that allowed you just enough room to reach an arm through.

As you made your way to the back of the estate, exploring in the orchard full of fruit bearing trees that blocked you from view of your home, you saw it. A tree. Toppled over from the storm that had occurred only a few days before; it had knocked out a section of the wall and gone unnoticed. You glanced around wildly, to see if anyone was watching you, before taking timid steps toward the newly opened portal. Beyond the wall that held you captive was a cobblestone street where common elves were passing each other with polite greetings. Purchasing goods, rushing to their next destination, completely unaware of the girl watching them on the other side of the wall.

You take another step forward, close enough now that you could just climb through and be free. For a moment you wonder how long it would take for the guards to realize you were missing, how much of a head start you would have.

Your fantasy was cut short swiftly. A knight patrolling the grounds shouted your name followed by a demand to step back, walk away from the wall, and continue on with your stroll. He followed it with no threat but you knew the rules and for this you would be brought before your father, made to explain yourself and accept a punishment for your transgressions that you have now long forgotten.

Now, that hole had been repaired and you never had another chance that came so close. As you come of age, the alluring pull of freedom has long become a fleeting memory. Until the news came. Gossip that you had been made privy to, coming second hand from your handmaiden, giddy with misplaced excitement.

Your father had accepted a dowry for your hand in marriage.

***

It took three days before your father finally called for you to stand before him while he sat on his throne. The room was void of others besides a couple maids bumbling around, finding things needing to be dusted and shined. Hoping to catch a bit more of the news, no doubt. You waited patiently, listening as he read aloud the letter sent to him by your suitor, the man who reigns over the Capitol, your fathers eyes meeting yours every so often, watching as you barely uphold your facade of normality. Three days of bottled up resentment and anger bubbling inside you, while you tried to conceal your rage.

It’s silent between the two of you for a moment before your father speaks up again.

“This is a considerable offer for your hand,” He states simply, knowing it’s not your choice to make. “Considerable,” He mumbles to himself again. He glances back down to the letter in his hands, eyes flickering over the page, before rolling it back up and tucking it beside his thigh. His eyes settle on you for a moment. Then, just as you're about to protest, he looks past you, furrowing his brow.

“Ah, Ser Konig. You’re late,” Your father says simply, standing to greet him. You feel a scowl form on your face, just a flash before you correct yourself, staying ever pleasant.

Konig, you thought to yourself, disgusted. You were not particularly fond of Konig, and you could never understand why your father held him in such high regard, going so far as to give him command over his own battalion of elven soldiers.

His clothing was often dirty and unkempt, and he belched without restraint in your presence. His lingering, lecherous gaze, often taking an extra moment when passing by your breast, averting his eyes quickly when he notices you looking in his direction, displeased. You feel he is too opinionated, poking his nose where it doesn’t belong. Too human. You couldn't fathom how he had found a place here. The human realm was separated from yours by a vast and treacherous sea, and outsiders were seldom welcomed here. Elves are above the turmoil and barbarism that man brings and from inside the walls of your home. You believed this to be true.

You plaster a pleasant smile on your face, turning to the ogre of a man behind you, raising your head to meet the piercing eyes, exaggerated by the darkness of the hood that covers his face, and already locked with yours. His gaze rests heavy upon you.

“My Lady,” He greets you, dipping his head in a halfhearted bow. He looks to your father without another word.

While anyone else would have faced punishment for giving you both such a lackluster greeting your father doesn’t seem to notice, instead grabbing for the rolled up letter he had tucked at his side, handing it to Konig to speak to him as though you had already departed. Invisible to the men beside you.

“You will leave in two days. The two of you will set out on horseback, scant, after our festivities. I wish not to draw attention to her. My caravan will leave four days after you and my daughter,” Your father procures a map from beside the throne, unrolling it and handing it to Konig, “You’ll travel to the capitol, stopping here,” The map rustles under the tapping of the kings’ finger, “Where we will meet and she will continue her journey with the caravan, under our protection.”

“Festivities?” You interrupted after some thought, looking to your father.

“In celebration of your coming marriage, and to wish you well for your going away,” He replied curtly, quickly returning his focus in favor of the imposing figure who stood beside you. You knew this was the final word he will hear from you on this issue.

Leaving in just two days… You think to yourself. How long has he had this proposal and not told me? He’s already planned the banquet… You ponder for a moment, if the common people outside of the estate learned of your own marriage before you, and perhaps that is how the news came to your handmaiden. You feel your anger bubbling, nearly uncontrollable and you waste no time beelining past the men, out of the throne room and toward your chambers.

Konig turns his head watching you longingly as you leave, the look going unnoticed by you and your father.

***

During the night, long after the sun had set, Konig was patrolling the perimeter of the estate. He heard you first, sniffling. Crying. On a stone bench in the orchard with your head in your hands. He is unsure what to say and watches you from afar for a moment before moving closer.

“Princess…” His accented voice cuts into the silence as he rests a large gloved hand lightly on your shoulder.

You jump at the sudden company, flinch away at his touch. Konig does not let it deter him and moves to sit beside you on the stone bench. For as large as he was, he had barely made a noise before he was within range to touch you, giving you no time to gather yourself. After wiping your tears away and straightening up, you allow that familiar stoic look to wash over your face.

“Ser Konig,” You say finally, greeting him. Your voice is soft and polite. If he hadn’t heard you crying, had made himself known sooner, he is sure he wouldn’t have been any the wiser that you were upset.

“I am…” he trails off for a moment too long, unsure of what to say. He can see you out of the corner of his eye, head turned toward him now. “I am sorry to see you go,” He mumbles quietly.

He turns to meet yours. His blue eyes stare intensely into yours, lit by the moonlight, exaggerated by the darkness of his hood. Hard to read, but you felt like prey under the scrutiny of his gaze. Your eyes widen, and you can feel your heart racing as you snap your head forward, choosing instead to look out toward the orchard, where the fireflies dance and blink playfully in the shrubbery. Just beyond, somewhere in the darkness, was the stone wall that had kept you trapped here for so long, but felt like solace now.

Konig does not often sit like this, unmoving and in silence, with no drink in his hand. Certainly not with a woman. Even before he had come deep into elven country, he did not make a habit of finding human women who wanted to share his comfort, only their bed. The princess, he thinks, is worthy of an exception. He is still for as long as he can manage, watching the fireflies perform, before speaking again.

“The path we’re taking, it will be a long one,” He says, as though he’s talking to himself, “If something happens to you, I’m told I’ll lose my head,” He shifts beside you, uncomfortable. He takes up much of the bench and you’re stiff, leaning away, not allowing your arm to touch his, “He’s never made that threat before, your father. He allows many of my transgressions to go unnoticed, but he would kill for you.”

“You know nothing,” You bark at Konig and the heat of shame bites at your face, knowing better than to lose your temper, “He cares for what he will gain by marrying me off. Considerable, if you haven't heard,” You speak with a sour tone.

Abruptly, you stand and turn to face Konig, he wastes no time taking you in, and you watch as his eyes crawl over the silhouette of your skirts, over your hips and to your waist, narrowed by your corset; jumping quickly, to meet your tired, tear filled eyes. He is nearly eye to eye with you, his sitting height almost matching the full height of your smaller form.

“Like my mother, and her mother before her, I will be used for sons. I am nothing but a vessel in which to provide a worthy king,” You pause for a moment, “I wonder if all women must live this life, or if my fortune is also my curse.”

Konig’s gaze is fire upon you. It burns you as he watches every microexpression of fear and anger pass your face as you speak and he takes a moment before deciding what to say next, before he is truthful to you.

“It seems all women live in the same prison, häschen,” He doesnt let the comment rest for long before he speaks again, “Now, allow me walk you to your room? It is quite late.”

The truth breaks you, but you keep it bottled up, complacent as always; keeping your face emotionless as you turn and walk away from Konig. You make no complaints as you hear him stand. It would be fruitless anyway, in only a few strides he has caught up to you.

Konig is silent behind you, deep in thought, as he realized that he had climbed these old stone steps toward your room more times than he could count in the handful of years since he had been here. Just a small fraction of the times you had. It should feel familiar, but now it seemed so foreign to him. They would be the same old stone steps without you walking up them, and the door that you used to sleep behind would remain the same door, but without you here, it would no longer be the same home to him that he had known.

You allow him to follow you to your room and offer you a wish for good sleep as you shut your door in his face without another word.

#konig #konig call of duty #konig modern warfare #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig x you #konig headcanons #konig x reader #konig smut #konig imagine #koing x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mw3

[chaili-1512]

" Poisonous flower "

CW:Touching, kissing, y\n, The main character is a Na'vi, na’vi quaritch x na’vi reader

TW: some smut

You work as an interpreter in the guard of the Celestial Nation, as well as a guide in the realm of Pandora and the life of Na'vi, you are loyal to your service, but you are still a sane Avatar who is extremely negative about violence. With only the memories of your past life with you, you continued to work for the side you thought was right, but of course it wasn't, subconsciously you knew that killing was not the answer, but who would listen to someone like you. You were lucky to have a great team, and although you didn't fit in right away, you were able to find common ground with some of them, including the incorrigible Miles Quaritch himself, of all those present you had an extremely strained relationship which allowed you to constantly turn the conversation into an argument, luckily the guys were able to unblock you every time and keep you from killing each other. One day your group was sent out to scout the northern part of the forest to make sure there were no extra savages there, and if they were found, to take prisoners or kill them, which you didn't let the group do every time. To your surprise, the colonel obediently obeyed this order, only silently putting away his weapon and subduing the savage. Your job, as commander, was to keep everything under control and, if necessary, to make reasonable decisions, without violence, by negotiation, being a guide and mentor in the realm of this violent nature. The landing went quickly, and, as always, you guided the action with a taskbar that gave you a map and a place to head to with one swipe of your hand. The goal was to find more Na'vi and get them out of the way for the RDA's personal purposes.

-Look, Y\n, what if they're not here, - Lyle replied tiredly, waving off the nasty insects. This part of the forest was best known for its carnivorous plants and wildlife.

-Then we'll have less work to do, won't we, Lyle. Or are you tired already? - You turned to him with a chuckle, and your joke was shared by all but the Colonel, who, as usual, only rolled his eyes.

When you finally reached your destination, you found abandoned dwelling huts built from trees and other improvised materials, and then Quaritch went first, gesturing for you to clear the area. You, in turn, stood behind him and watched simply, you were clumsy at shooting, but if it came to hand-to-hand combat, your fists were ready to stand up for yourselves.

-Corporal, as you can hear, reception - Miles' job was to protect you, which angered him, because every time he had to risk his ass for you.

-All clear, sir, only traps found that didn't work, - the man looked carefully around one of the huts, checking every corner, as did the rest of the boys.

-Don't you find that suspicious? - said warily, and then Miles' eyes widened just as he was about to turn to one of the boys, something grabbed him by the leg and dragged him into the bushes.

-Ambush, get back! - The boys immediately ran in your direction, but everyone was already trapped, and the strung rope dragged them into the woods. Miles covered you in every way he could, looking around, his ears drooping and a smirk appearing, he froze for a second, then abruptly grabbed your hand and you ran off in an unknown direction.

-What the hell, where are we running to?! - you tried to keep up with the rapid pace of his run, picking your way through the bushes and roots.

-Fewer words, soldier, I'm trying to save us! - he shouted as he continued to run, finally you managed to escape the unknown, on the way you managed to send a message to the base with a signal for help so they could call for reinforcements. Your lungs were about to burst out, and you huddled against a nearby tree to regain your breath. Quaritch listened to his surroundings and only then was he able to exhale and come to his senses when the danger was over.

-Are you okay? Are you hurt? - The man gave you a concerned look that made you feel uncomfortable for a second.

-I'm fine, I'm glad you're wondering how I am, - you smiled sarcastically, but all you got in return was that familiar fierce look.

-Unfortunately for me, I have to ask for it every time I risk my ass for a scumbag like you, - he crossed his arms over his chest and looked at you seriously, you just wanted to say something as your gaze fell on what was behind him.

-Let's not make any unnecessary moves, - you carefully began to step back, Miles only tensed, taking his weapon and quickly turning around to see the bushes and the usual kinds of trees.

-Look, we're not in a position to make jokes right now, come on, - the colonel only pushed back the thicket, causing his tail to flutter and rise like a trumpet, along with his ears. - What the… - he only looked around after those words, then collapsed to the ground.

-Damn it, Miles! This is a dangerous bush, their poison causes intoxication and hallucinations!? - You cautiously began pulling your partner's legs, though he was losing strength, you still managed to pull him out. After laying him down as comfortably as possible with his back to the tree, you began rummaging through your bag, laying everything out on the surface of the bark in search of the right medicine. While you were looking for everything you needed, the colonel managed to wake up on his own, but his tongue was mumbling something unintelligible.

-Oh, you were able to wake up on your own, that's great, then I can give you a smaller dose and… - Before you could finish and pass the syringe, your wrist was intercepted, the expression on his face was speechless, and it was very difficult to assess the situation.

-What are you going to do to me? And without my consent… - Quaritch tried to formulate his speech, which was difficult, but he managed something.

-Hey, listen, I want to help you, so please let go of my hand, - you wanted to break out of his grasp, but the man's face played only a smile, this you clearly did not expect from such a rude man.

-Why should I let such a beautiful girl like you go? - His eyes went wild, like those of a hungry predator playing with its prey.

-Look, I think this poison has given you a strong side effect… - You looked again at the plants, which were already far enough away that you couldn't hit them again. Finally your wrist was free, and all that remained on Quaritch's face was bewilderment and incomprehension.

-Do you mean to tell me that this weed makes me do stupid things? - The colonel rose slightly, leaning against a tree, and you, in turn, stood up and pointed exactly the same way to a grove of these plants. - Exactly, and now I'm going to inject you with a drug that will lessen the effects, - the man threw another fierce look at you after your words.

-Have I ever told you that I've been attracted to your looks since the first time we met? - This statement made you look at him confused for a split second, and all that comforted you was the phrase, "-It's just the effect of that plant, he's gone mad, nothing more." Everything would have been fine, but his crooked gait headed in your direction, forcing you to move a few meters away from him, - Miles Quaritch, you need a shot, or it will get worse… - your voice no longer seemed as confident as before, for now you were pinned against a large wooden pole, and in front of you stood the colonel's rather rough and pumped body, whose gaze made your tail move like a propeller.

-I feel good now, Y\n especially with you by my side, - he whispered it so softly that your ears flinched and an electric shock ran through your body like you had never experienced before. While your thoughts were clouded with worry, his fingertips ran gently over your arms, making your body throb even harder. Quaritch was so close that his heavy breath burned your innocent face, which was already covered in embarrassment.

-Miles, what are you doing? - the question came softly enough and in one exhale, when his hands were already on your thighs, squeezing them tightly.

-What you have long wanted, but could not afford - the colonel's gaze was fixed on your lips, everything inside him was burning, only you could cause him such strong and ridiculous feelings. As much as you wanted it to stop, your body seemed to defy common sense, and you could only watch as his strong arms pressed you closer and his warm lips showered you with light kisses. Your body burned frantically with every touch on your neck, lightly biting it with his fangs, Quaritch teasing you, making you feel intense embarrassment, his mind still stupefied, and such an effect without the necessary aids could have lasted 48 hours.

-Miles… Stop it, you're not yourself, - your cotton palms tried to push away from the man's chest, but he in turn only intercepted them and raised them above your head, holding you in a kind of trap from which it was difficult to escape.

-Out of yourself I can only be from you - you were naturally enjoying everything that was happening, but common sense still managed to master your brain, the colonel was stupefied and the only option to stop this debauchery was to take control of yourself. The very moment you wanted to be indignant, your lips plunged into a passionate kiss, you never in your life would have thought he was so good at it. Each time the touch of his lips became more and more impatient, given only seconds to exhale and inhale, your tail went crazy and spun with the burning inside. The ground beneath your feet disappeared each time, but Quaritch's firm grip kept you from falling, pressing your wretched body closer to his, still holding your wrists higher.

-Stop, I can't breathe anymore… - You pulled away from the passionate kisses, to which the man only laughed.

-You didn't seem to mind, - he said smugly, finally letting go of your hands. You lifted your head and covered the back of your wrist, greedily gulping for air with your mouth. Unfortunately, the respite was very short; you could tell by the way Miles was touching you, because his hand had already climbed under your shirt. That movement made your tail rise and your body shudder again; the situation had to be saved, an idea popped into your head, and you had to make it happen somehow. You wrapped your arms around Miles' neck and dug into his lips, it was so sudden that the man began to pull back until you both fell into the grass.

-So you like being on top? - he smirked, watching your body.

-Sure, - you tried to reach for your bag, which wasn't far away, but his hands exploring your body, under your shirt, distracted you in every way possible. Finally reaching into the bag, you quickly pulled out a syringe and injected the drug into his shoulder, the man groaned in sharp pain, and you just got off him and sat down next to him, it was unwise to leave until the effects were completely gone, so you just waited for him to come to his senses. At this point the other guys were finally able to get to you, as it turned out they were just tied upside down to the trees, alive and well.

-Finally, now they're coming for us, - you sighed tiredly and looked at Miles, who was already the real Miles.

-What the hell… My goddamn head, what happened? Are we dead? - Holding his head, he tried to remember everything that had happened a few minutes ago, apparently the shock had been so severe that he had lost his memory.

-It's nothing, you just fell unconscious and I was trying to save you the whole time, - a lie for the good of both of them, you knew that if you told it like it was, there would be a lot of embarrassment and misunderstanding in your future service.

-Just passing out like that? Well, never mind, thanks, soldier, - his eyes stared into the distance, trying to remember something. After a few minutes of contemplation you heard the familiar hum of the engine, salvation finally came to you, and together with everyone else you went to the base. You spent the rest of the day in your own thoughts in your office, you also took samples of that poison that is so powerful, as it turns out the Na'vi use it in hunting to stupefy game and make them lose their minds.

At that moment there was a knock on the door, and the familiar figure of Miles stepped in.

-Oh, you feel better, did you want something? - You put aside your work and turned to him, there was not a single emotion on his face that you would normally see.

-You know, I behaved extremely rudely in my work with you and… - he paused and scratched his neck, - And I would like to apologize, - you rounded your eyes in surprise, but you apologized just as he did.

-It's okay, we just didn't see eye to eye, - you said, and you shook hands peacefully.

-But if you want to go on and talk about what we rehearsed after what happened in the woods, you know where to find me, - Miles grinned, your face ready to burn, he remembered every little detail? - For a nerd, you're an excellent kisser, - the colonel left the office after that phrase, leaving you alone with your thoughts and burning with embarrassment.

#awow #quaritch imagine #quaritch fanfic #quaritch x reader #quaritch x oc #Colonel quaritch x you #Colonel quaritch imagine #Colonel quaritch headcanon #Colonel quaritch x y/n #Colonel quaritch #colonel quaritch x reader

[buzzkillchainsaw]

“What do you think of Avatars?“ and other topics to avoid bringing up around the Hufweticaya

The strikingly bright green ikran shot up from behind the rocks, like an arrow fired into the sky. Its wide eyes and even more wide gills betrayed its struggle to keep flying upwards at this unusual height – but luckily, it was about to reach its destination.

The young na’vi on its back gripped the saddle tightly, his knuckles a lighter blue than usual. Cold winds clawed at his skin. His ikran was in an almost perfectly vertical position now as it rose towards the highest of the floating mountains in front of them. On their way up, they passed several purple figures hanging from the steep mountain walls, gesturing a greeting towards them one hand and effortlessly holding on to the rock with the other. Mo’ari would have reciprocated the gestures if he weren’t holding onto a piece of leather for dear life.

The Hufweticaya were expecting him – the shrill whistles he could hear from all sides confirmed that. It was hard to sneak up on this particular clan, as there was only one way to their home: up. The purple na’vi lived on the highest floating mountains found on Pandora, a group of gigantic rocks clustered together in one spot and all connected by the roots of the sacred tree that sat at the very top. Huge creatures, relatives of the ikran, circled the rocks – what were they called again? Tslenga taw? Although it sounded more like “Tslenga’aw” in the Hufweticaya dialect. Some descended, guided by their riders, to accompany Mo’ari on his last stretch of the way.

“I see you, Tsawke, Olo’eyktan of the Hufweticaya.”

Mo’ari took a deep breath and slightly bowed his head as the leader of the tribe approached him with open arms and a smile on his face. It was good to finally feel the ground beneath his feet, even if that ground was a huge mountain floating high up in the sky.

“I see you, Mo’ari, our brother from the forest! How long has it been?”

A purple crowd quickly formed around the forest na’vi and his ikran. Children ran over, giggling, pointing at the “small Tslenga’aw” and shoving tseywll leaves into Mo’ari’s hesitant hands.

“Now, children, don’t overwhelm our guest. He must be exhausted from the long journey, is he not?”

Mo’ari’s ears turned towards the voice before his head did. Sìlpey, the Tsahìk of the Hufweticaya, split the crowd with her mere presence and gently shooed the children away with her hands. The lower half of her face was partially obscured by the lortsyal-wings hanging from the thin, Y-shaped braids every Hufweticaya wore.

“I see you, Sìlpey, Tsahìk of the Hufweticaya. I am very grateful for your hospitality.”

Sìlpey greeted him back, properly and regally as expected of a Tsahìk. But the glint in her eyes gave away her curiosity. “One does not travel this far away from his home just for a simple visit. What exactly brings you here?”

“Ma Sìlpey, why interrogate our guest like this?“ Tsawke shook his head with feigned disappointment. “Let us eat first. He will tell us soon enough, but not on an empty stomach!”

-

The feast prepared by the Hufweticaya differed a lot from what Mo’ari was used to. Tough meat, leaves, roots that tasted like nothing and sickly sour berries. There didn’t seem to be a lot of variety like he was used to back home in the lush warm forests. But the food filled his growling stomach just fine, even if it made his mouth feel a little fuzzy.

Blue and green eyes kept flashing towards him from all sides, watching, waiting for him to speak. Of course they did: the last time he visited, he told them  harrowing tales of the sky people. Small, almost na’vi like creatures descending from the skies in their “taws`ıps” and destroying everything in their path. The sky people never really made it to the Hufweticaya territory – perhaps there was something special about the warm forests that made them want to stay there.

But the worst tale of all was about the horrifying unilt`ıranyu – false na’vi bodies with too many fingers, too small eyes and with hair in all the wrong places, animated somehow by dreaming sky people. The Hufweticaya have never actually seen any, but after the scary tales of Mo’ari they started spreading increasingly outlandish rumors about the evil, na’vi-body-stealing vrrtep, often to scare misbehaving children.

“Now then, I guess I have no choice but to tell you.”, Mo’ari said. He had to take in a lot of air to speak properly – even then, his voice sounded a little thinner than usual. “I bring news from the Omaticaya. Not urgent news, there is no need to worry, but important news nonetheless.”

And so, Mo’ari began telling the story of “Jakesully”, a unilt`ıranyu from the stars who decided to put a stop to the sky peoples’ awful actions by betraying them and joining the Omaticaya. After a big battle that united many clans, the sky people were driven from the planet.

“A battle?”, Tsawke exclaimed, “And you did not seek any help from us? This seems like an insult to our friendship, Mo’ari!”

“Now, now, ma Tsawke.“ Sìlpey put her hands on her mate’s shoulders. “Our brothers and sisters from the warm forests are too far away. We could not have helped them in time, even if they had asked us.”

These words seemed to calm the Olo’eyktan down, but a wrinkle on his nose remained. “Tell me more about this ... “Jakesully”, Mo’ari. Why did he betray the sky people, his own people?”

Mo’ari took a deep breath. “He fell in love with one of our own, a young woman named Neytiri.”

Hisses in the crowd. Furrowed brows. Wrinkled noses and flat ears.

"Surely that is not possible!" Sìlpey shook her head, which made the soft wings decorating her face dance in the setting sun. “It cannot be.”

"It is. He might be a unilt`ıranyu, but he was chosen by Neytiri and he was chosen by Eywa. Her signs were as clear as water." Eyes all around him narrowed, so he hastily added: "Don't the Hufweticaya always say that all paths lead back to Eywa? Jakesully must have been on such a path."

"This applies to children of Eywa only!" The Tsahìk accentuated her last few words by driving her pointer finger into her thigh, as if she was trying to pierce the purple flesh with it. "This does not apply to this...parasite that has befallen us to eat and destroy everything in its sight!"

"But -", Mo'ari tried to interject unsuccessfully.

"And was it not you, Mo'ari, the one who called them "ayvrrtep" last time you visited? Was it not you who told us of their crimes, in detail? And now you come back and expect us to agree that one of these terrible creatures can suddenly be chosen by Eywa, after hurting and poisoning her with their filth?"

This time it was Tsawke who tried to calm down his mate, but his eyes were fixated on his guest. “You understand that this is hard to believe, do you not, Mo’ari?”

“I find it harder to believe that Eywa could make a mistake.”, Mo’ari answered after a deep breath. “Jakesully became toruk makto. He united and led all surrounding clans in a battle against the sky people. He made them run away with their tails between their legs – with Eywa’s help!”

“Oìsss!” Sìlpey waved her arms as if she was shooing away pesky flies. The crowd around her grew restless, tails swishing around like tall grass struck by strong winds.

“And in the end, he also...” Mo’ari was dreading this one the most. “... became our Olo’eyktan.”

All hell broke loose.

“Fpxamo!”

“You’re letting a vrrtep lead you?”

“Ayskxawng!”

All eyes were on Mo’ari, fingers pointing at him, hands shaking towards him, asking, pleading. Several children were sent away by her parents, as if the discussion had become too inappropriate for them. He had expected such a reaction, but not to this extent. It was probably for the best that he didn’t bring up Neytiri’s pregnancy. He sighed.

Tsawke got up and raised his hands, wordlessly motioning his people to calm down.

“That is all.”, Mo’ari said as soon as the crowd grew quiet – thankful for Tsawke’s intervention. “I was sent here to inform you of our new ... leadership situation. You are our clan’s friends, after all, so you deserve to know.”

“And we thank you for that.” Tsawke composed himself by running his fingers through his long, dark hair with a sigh. Sìlpey, with her gaze towards the ground, kept shaking her head and mumbling a quiet prayer.

“But you do understand that this is very difficult for us to accept. Very difficult. We will need a long time to fully understand what you told us today.“

“I do. I apologize for causing such unrest in your peaceful clan.” Mo’ari bowed his head a little, his face flashing with embarrassing warmth. “I hope our friendship will not suffer because of this.”

“It will not, Mo’ari. You and your people always will be our friends. You can always count on our help, just how we can count on yours. But...” The olo’eyktan put both of his hands on the blue na’vi’s shoulders and leaned in very closely. “...please refrain from ever bringing him here.“

Mo’ari didn’t stay too long after this. He left in the early morning, under the cover of darkness and gripped by the claws of the cold winds.

At least now he could finally regain his breath.

Non-canon (invented) na’vi words used:

Hufweticaya – Clan name, derived from hufwe (wind)

Tslenga taw/Tslenga’aw – False sky, na’vi name for gulper

Tseywll – snack plant

Some plurals with the ay– prefix, might not be grammatically correct

All about the Hufweticaya, my avatar fan clan

#avatar #avatar fan clan #avatar oc #hufweticaya clan #avatar fanfiction #avatar clan #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #na'vi #na'vi oc #navi oc

[florestmoon]

Into the Fog Pt 8. (Frank Morrison x reader)

Sorry for the wait babes (: enjoy <33

Pt. 7.

You feel like a hurricane of emotions as you find yourself transported back into the campfire.

Feet moving on its own record, steering you away from the crackling fire and glances of the other survivors and towards the entrance of the woods. Nea’s angry voice barely registering in your ears when she stands up at the sight of you.

“Hey y/n!”

You don't give her a glance. You walk with no hesitation and push through the fog that covers the woods like a cloud, paying no mind to fact that you can barely see in front of you. One destination was in your mind.

“What did you say?”

Susie blinked up at you like a deer in headlights. Confusion muddled with panic swam around in her eyes as she stared back at you. You could hear shuffling from below you but you ignored it, too distracted by the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears.

"I..I thought..” she stammered as she stood up slowly. Her hands begin fiddling with her sleeves, tugging on the oversized material as she looked at you wearily. As though put off by your reaction.

“Susie. What are you talking about?”

You saw the moment that it hit her. Confusion transforming into complete fear as her eyes widened and she began shaking her head, her chest rising as she panicked.

"I..I thought..” she stammered as she stood up slowly. Her hands begin fiddling with her sleeves, tugging on the oversized material as she looked at you wearily. As though put off by your reaction.

“What does that mean Susie.”

“We didn’t know!” Her voice cracked as she began to sob. Her hands gripping onto the roots of her hair. The sight was heartbreaking. “We didn’t know someone was in the shop when we broke in!”

You felt your body grow cold as you could only watch the younger girl cry in front of you. Her sobs barely allowing her to speak properly. Her confession breaking between dry heaves while she let go of her hair and rubbed her face aggressively.

She completely breaks down.

"We didn’t know the janitor was there s-so when he grabbed Julie and threatened to call the police,” she wept, “we had no other option!”

“No option?” You breathed out in disbelief. Slowly her words were piecing together, the missing pieces that put together all the doubts and questions you had for awhile now.

"Frank stabbed him from behind” she grimaces, shutting her eyes as she recounts the painful memory in her mind. “And then..and then he, he made us stab him..he made us kill him.I didn’t want to kill him, I swear I didn’t!”

“Oh my god.” You gasped, finally feeling as though the air was knocked out of you. The room tilted as you leaned against the wall, slowly backing away from the girl.

“I knew we were going to jail y/n.” She takes a deep breath. “But Frank kept saying it was okay. And then we were burying the body and I heard something and followed it into the woods. That’s when it brought us here.” She sniffs.

“I don’t understand..” You were staring at the floor in shock, furrowing your eyebrows as you thought. “Frank said you all were looking for me..and that’s when it took you.He said that’s all that happened that night.”

Susie shook her head. Your heart felt heavy.

Her heavy breathing calmed down as she opened her eyes and looked up at you. She looked broken. Afraid. She looked so much like her age at the moment. A 17 year old girl who seemed lost and needed comfort.

It went against everything she just confessed. The murder that was acted out by her and the others. By Frank. It contradicted the true reality of the situation.

You couldn’t reach out and comfort her like you were just a few minutes before. No, all you could do was step away from her. Her confession battling against everything you believed in before. Battling with the lies that Frank fed you.

“Y/N?” Susie whispers, waiting for you to say anything. Something in her voice begging for you to not judge her, to understand her.

But you simply looked at her with no emotion, the turmoil too much, before stumbling out the room and running down the stairs as the last generator and the gates were powered on.

A branch snapped beneath you as your foot got caught in it. You feel yourself lose balance from the tiny misstep, hands gripping onto a tree as you took a deep breath. The silence surrounding you somehow was too much for you. It allowed all your thoughts and fears to be loud. Laurie’s words echoing in your mind.

“In the end, they’re not good people”

You push on. You ignore the growing anxiety as you get closer to your destination. Ormond Resort appearing just a few feet away from where the trees ended. Snow welcoming you as you walk across the large field towards the stairs.

You made your way towards the same room you spent all your time away between trials. Your safe haven. But that safety blanket that covered you anytime you walked into the room, was ripped from under you. Only dread kissing your skin as you walk into the empty room.

Taking a deep breath, you walk out the room and into the hallway of the second floor. A distant sound of a can rattling prompting you to make your way down the steps to the first floor.

Joey looked up from his position of kneeling in front of a bare wall, spray can in hand as he takes in your presence.

“Oh, uh hey y/n-“

”Where’s Frank?” You interrupt him, making your way towards the middle of the room. You never actually been anywhere but Frank’s room, actively avoiding bumping into a certain someone. You hoped that maybe you were lucky enough to avoid it, but like every other time in this realm, that luck has run out once you hear a scoff and turn your head towards the couch to see Julie sitting on the arm rest.

“Where the fuck do you think?” She sneers, tilting her head as she looked at you like you were stupid. “He’s in a trial. Killing all your friends.”

You ignore the hostility that was directed to you as you turn towards Joey again.

“Is it true? What you guys did before being brought here?”

Joey peered up at you in confusion. “I thought you knew…”

”Holy shit.” Julie laughs as she stands up from her sitting position. The hurt that crossed your expression at his confirmation spurred her to walk to you. She felt herself light up in amusement.

“You’re telling me that you didn’t know? All this time,” She looked at Joey as though it was a joke shared between them. Joey stayed quiet. “-I thought you were desperate enough to be cuddly with Frank despite him being a killer.”

You ball your hands into fist. Don’t let her get to you.

“But really, you’re not desperate. You’re just fucking stupid.” Her giddily laugh echoes in the quiet room as you stare at her. Shame scratching at your throat. “Don’t you remember what I told you the first time I gutted you?”

You were sure your hands were shaking, all the anger and shame building as you took in the venom in her voice. But she was right. She had told since the beginning and yet you allowed yourself to believe this fake fantasy.

You were stupid enough to believe it.

She tilts her head at you, waiting for a response. A flick of annoyance crossed her at the lack of it. You were still trying to fight through the shock. Your throat felt clogged up by all the emotions you were struggling to handle. Julie opened her mouth to continue berating you but Frank walking through the door prevented her.

”Y/N? What are you..” Frank glanced between you and Julie. He froze for a second, although trying to process before he tensed up. The sight of the both of you, Julie’s sinister grin and your fear stricken face had him rushing towards you both. “What the fuck are you doing to her Julie?”

He pushed her roughly away from you, placing himself as a barrier in front of you. You could see the panic in his posture. He was glaring at Julie as though warning her from saying anything to you. He looked a bit afraid, knowing that they knew something you didn’t.

But you knew.

Your jaw clenches as all the rage bubbles up. Everything that you been holding in, since Susie confessed to you and the whole way through the woods, came rushing out as you stood in front of Frank. You swore you could see red.

“You.” You said sharply, poking his chest with enough force that Frank took a step back in surprise. “You lied to me.”

Frank’s face goes pale. He tears his eyes away from Julie and looks at you, the intensity in your eyes revealing to him what he was most afraid of. It was although someone poured a cold bucket of water onto him as he realizes.

”What?” He stammered. “I don’t know what you-“

“When were you going to tell me?” You narrow your eyes. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

He pauses and you watch as he swallows nervously.

”I was. I swear I was, I just,” Frank finds himself stuttering as he takes a step towards you but you step away from him. His chest tightens.

”“I asked you multiple times about what happened with you guys, how you got here, and this whole time..” You take a shaky breath. “This whole time you been lying to me.”

“Y/N, please..” He pinched his nose, his eyes squeezing shut for a second before he opens them again. His hands are shaking, you take note of his growing frustration, his panic ,but you brush it aside. “I can explain. We can go upstairs and talk about this.”

“No. We can talk about this here.”

Julie’s and Joey’s eyes were burning into the back of your head but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the boy in front of you and the anger that was keeping you from crying in front of him.

“This whole time I was blaming myself for you being here because of the bullshit story you told me.” You continue. “I really beat myself up over it ever since you told me and let the guilt consume me.”

“Baby. I didn’t mean for this to go that far, I was going to find the right time to tell you.” He urges, “I was. But we are already dealing with this nightmare and I didn’t want to make things any worse.”

“Bullshit.” You sneer.

”What?”

“I’m dealing with a nightmare.” You gesture around you by flicking your hand then to him. “We? Really? You made me think you understood me. Like we were all on the same boat, but no this is easy for you.”

“You think this is easy for me?” Frank snaps taken aback by your statement.

“What else would I think.” You bite back. “You were willing to kill an innocent man and then lied to me about it.”

“What the fuck did you expect me to do!” He yells. He grimaced once he saw how you flinch away further from his outburst. His fist clenching at his sides as he tries to hold back his anger. “I knew you were going to react this way!”

“How else could I react ?” You retort in disbelief.

“Look okay. I fucked up.” He feels his patience running thin. “It’s not like what happened even matters now , okay? That’s in the past. Let’s forget about it. “

“The past?” You shake your head in disbelief. “I can’t fucking believe you. That’s..this is fucked up Frank. What you did was stupid and fucked ! This isn’t something I can just forget ”

Frank’s chest heaves as you continue to back away from him. The way you were looking at him. You were looking at him he was wrong. Like there was something wrong with him. The way everyone else in his life has. It pushed him over the edge.

“I can’t believe you.” He snarls. The anger was getting the best of him. He wasn’t thinking clearly. The guilt was eating him alive and what did Frank do best whenever someone was disappointed in him? Lash out.

He storms towards you ignoring the sudden fear that takes over you. “You seen me kill all your friends, barely batting an eye when I would give you hatch after.” He glared down at you. “I saw the way you would look at me with blood and the mask. Yet you didn’t say shit. So now you want to suddenly have morals?”

”That’s different!” You yell back, shocked. “ I thought you had no other choice, I didn’t want to believe that..that,” you glance at the mask in his pocket as your voices lowers, ”was you.”

The grinning mask peers up at you as you stare down at it. Your stomach lurching.

Forcing yourself to look up at him again, the softness that he regarded you with before was gone, pure fury in his eyes as he looks at you.

You were reminded of the trial in the midwich elementary school, when he disregarded the death of your teammates in the same coldly matter. All the times you seen him in trials killing your teammates and yet you tried to act like everything was fine.

It all hit you. Not only did you feel disgusted with him, but with yourself. You knew this entire time yet turned your head. Now, with the truth unfolding and his true colors showing, you were forced to face the reality.

Frank watches you as you look up at him. The cold acceptance swallowing you. The words begin slipping through your lips before you can stop them.

“You’re just like the rest of them.”

He holds his breath. Your stare hardening.

“You’re a monster Frank.”

All the anger drains out of him in a second. All the tension loosening, his fingers unclenching as he looks at you in shock. Everything inside him was collapsing. He watches in horror as you turn away, tears swarming your vision while you make way past him and hurry towards the front door.

He wanted to chase after you. Force you to listen to him, apologize for his outburst. He was just so afraid. He wants to beg you to understand, beg you to not leave him again.

But before he could force his body to move, the familiar tug of the fog pulls at him.

He opens his eyes to the sight of the Midwich Elementary school surrounding him. The memory of him kissing you in one of the classrooms playing in his mind is what makes him break. A sob ripping from his throat when he tears off the mask that was always covering his face when trials started.

He throws it to the side, not caring for the way it cracked and broke from the force. He stared down at his poorly wrapped hands. The dagger in his left feeling heavier than before.

Monster.

You called him a monster. You thought he was a monster.

He didn’t realize he was breathing hard until a siren blared and broke him out of his panic attack, vibrating throughout the school. He looked up to see a survivor carefully making their way through the halls, exposed by the broken wall on the second floor.

Frank hand wrapped around his dagger. The edge digging into his skin as he stood up straight.

You’re a monster Frank.

The familiar rush pumped through his veins. His breathing kicking up before he began sprinting towards the stairs. The mask left behind.

#dbd x reader #dbd #dbd imagine #dbd x you #dbd imagines #frank morrison #frank morrison x reader #frank morrison x you #the legion #the legion x reader #dead by daylight #slashers imagine

[akihabaradivision]

Otaku Corps Drama Track 1 - Living Life By One's Own Rules, Not Someone Else's

Pt. 1

— Aokigahara Forest —

[The camera buzzes back to life as Criss Hiromi, the paranormal investigator, stands at the edge of the Aokigahara Forest. The trees loom tall and dense, their branches clawing at the night sky. The forest floor is a tangle of roots and volcanic rock, making each step uncertain. As she made her way through the decrepit forest, Criss, night-vision goggles on her face, looked around, stepping cautiously and carefully.]

Criss: *Looks into her camera* Hello folks, and welcome back to another thrilling episode of "SpectralWhiskers". I'm your host, Criss Hiromi, alongside my faithful companion and sidekick, Leraje.

[Criss holds up her pet mouse in her free hand, who gives a squeak and a slight "wave" to the camera before the albino girl puts him back down again.]

Criss: After about a day's travel, we've finally arrived at our destination: the fabled Aokigahara Forest. A place of beauty and sorrow. They say the spirits of those who've passed linger here, trapped between worlds.

[At her owner's words, Leraje, sniffs the air, its fur on end.]

Criss: *Continuing her speech* Legend has it that the forest calls to the hearts of the troubled. It's easy to get lost here, both physically and spiritually.

[Stepping forward, the darkness suddenly swallowed the light from her camera. A soft WHISPERING could be heard, as if the trees themselves were speaking.]

Criss: *Whispering* Did you hear that, Leraje? We're not alone.

[Suddenly, a shadow flit between the trees. Criss spun around, her camera following, but there was nothing there. She continued looking around her until she heard a 'squeak' from her pet mouse. Turning back around, she was shocked to find a DOLL pinned to a tree, its eyes hollow.]

Criss: *Shaken* This… This is a common sight here, folks. They say these dolls are vessels for the yurei—souls seeking peace. You can think of them as ghosts or spirits, only these ones usually stay around for the sole purpose of exacting revenge. Kinda like hollows if any of you guys are Bleach fans.

[Reaching out, Criss, still shaking, hesitates before she picks up the doll from the tree.]

Criss: *Resolute* We're here to understand, not to disturb. If any spirits can hear me, know that we respect your pain.

[At first, the forest seemed to die down as she finished speaking. Almost a second later, however, a GUST of wind swept through the forest, and the doll's head slowly turned towards Criss, making her breath stop, and Leraje squeak in alarm.]

Criss: *Whispering* Whelp, I think it's time to go. Remember to like, share, and subscribe for more. Stay safe out there, and keep exploring.

[As she hurried back the way she came, the camera caught glimpses of the forest's eerie beauty as she retreated.]

— Akihabara Stadium —

[Unlike the Aokigahara Forest, the city of Akihabara was filled with sunlight as it was still noon. The city was in full blaze, and no place more so than Akihabara Stadium. The reason? Because a video game convention was underway, as well as a tournament. In one of the locker rooms of the stadium, the hum of computers and the soft glow of LED lights filled the room.]

[Lounging on one of the benches in the room was a laid-back girl with an air of nonchalance. This was none other than the #5-ranked gamer in the world, Nikki Yoshie, otherwise known by her gamer handle, "1-Up". Her eyes were currently glued to her phone as she had just finished watching the latest paranormal exploits of her friend, Criss, on YouTube.]

Nikki: *Shakes her head, a small grin on her face* You're out of your mind, Criss. But that's why I guess you do what you do, I suppose.

[Hovering over the comment section, the E-gamer quickly typed in a comment, using the same dexterity that she often displayed in her games.]

Nikki: *Typing* "Never change, Criss. Your bravery is my entertainment during these boring waits."

[As she finished, she was alerted by a knock as a staff member stuck their head inside the room, telling Nikki that her match was next.]

Nikki: *Sighing* Another day, another challenger. Alright, let's get this over with.

[Standing up from her seat, the E-gamer's posture suddenly changed from 'relaxed' to 'alert and ready'. She reached over to a nearby counter and grabbed her custom controller, its buttons worn from countless battles.]

Nikki: *To herself* Time to show why they call me "1-Up".

[Exiting the locker room, the door closed behind her with a decisive click. The hallway leading to the arena was lined with posters of past champions, but Nikki's gaze was set forward, her mind already in the game. The arena was a cacophony of cheers and electronic beats. Fans waved banners with Nikki's avatar, a pixelated warrior with a smirk. Nikki stepped onto the stage, her expression unreadable—a perfect 'kuudere'.]

[Her challenger was named Kaito[1], a.k.a. "NebulaStrike". Nikki had heard about him; a young hotshot with more confidence than skill. He was already at his station, his fingers twitching in anticipation. As he came face to face with the kuudere, a smirk was plastered on his face, though Nikki could see some doubt in his eyes. It was clear that he had heard about her reputation, as well as her gaming skills.]

[Taking their seats, both gamers hooked up their controllers and logged onto their game. Since she was the one being challenged, Nikki had the right to choose the game, but she decided to let Kaito choose it, confident that she more than likely had already played and mastered it. And she was right, as he had chosen a relatively new fighting game that was already popular e-gaming arenas called, "Cyber Clash Arena."]

[As the referee gave the signal to start, both players' avatars appeared in the virtual battleground: a neon-lit cityscape, skyscrapers towering above. Down below on the street floor, both players' avatars clashed. Nikki's avatar, a cybernetic ninja named "Shadow Blade," moved with lethal grace, her every action a dance of pixels and light.]

Nikki: *Focused* Time to up the ante.

[Executing a series of complex inputs, Shadow Blade responded instantly, leaping from building to building, her cloak trailing like a banner. Kaito's avatar, a hulking brute named "Crash Titan," roared in frustration, swinging wildly to hit her.]

[The crowd was on the edge of their seats, their cheers a pulsing rhythm that matched the intensity of the match. Nikki's fingers were a blur, her eyes locked on the screen, predicting her opponent's every move.]

Nikki: *Under her breathe* Predictable.

[With a swift combo, Shadow Blade disarmed Crash Titan, sending his weapon clattering to the virtual ground. Kaito's avatar was left vulnerable, and unfortunately for him, Nikki didn't miss her chance.]

Nikki: Game over.

[Shadow Blade launched into her ultimate move, a spectacle of flashing lights and devastating power, more commonly known as "Eclipse Strike". Crash Titan tried to retaliate, but was too late. The final blow landed, and the avatar disintegrated into a shower of digital sparks.]

[The arena exploded with applause, the sound deafening. Nikki's victory was displayed for all to see, her name climbing the leaderboard once again. Standing from her seat, her avatar bowed gracefully to the defeated opponent. The challenger could only nod in respect, his dreams of victory shattered but his spirit not broken.]

Nikki: *To Kaito* Until next time.

[With that, the kuudere turned to leave the stage, her fans chanting louder than ever. Though she may not show it, inside, Nikki's already analyzing her performance, always striving for perfection.]

— Tokyo University, Dorm Room —

[On the other side of the city, in her dorm room, the young and popular mangaka, Keiko Yumi, sat at her desk surrounded by sketches and manga panels. Her most popular work, "Red of the Ambitious," was spread out before her, the characters seeming to leap off the page with life and energy.]

[The glow from her laptop illuminated her face, a mix of concentration and artistic flair. She was the epitome of the "perfect student" at Tokyo University, admired for both her intellect and beauty.]

Keiko: *To herself* Nikki never ceases to amaze me. If only she'd join me here…

[She smiled softly, her thoughts on her friend's recent gaming victory. To this day, it was unknown how exactly she and Nikki became friends, especially since the two were so different. The most likely reason was because of their love for artwork. With a sigh, she turned back to her artwork, her pen dancing across the paper.]

[Suddenly, her computer pinged with an incoming email, making her frown somewhat as she had made a small mistake on her art. Clicking it open, her eyes widened as she read the message from Nemu Aohitsugi, her superior at Chuohku.]

Nemu: *Onscreen* "Secretary Keiko Yumi, report to Chuohku HQ immediately. The Prime Minister requests your presence."

Keiko: *Shocked* The Prime Minister? Why me?

[Standing from her desk, a mix of nerves and duty were written on her face. Grabbing her coat and bag, her mind was racing with possibilities.]

Keiko: *To herself* This could change everything.

[The mangaka takes one last look at her dorm room, the walls adorned with her manga art and nursing textbooks, a testament to her dual life...]

To be continued...

Kaito Ushiro - An e-gamer, though not of the same caliber as Nikki. He enjoys playing video games, as he connected with them better than he did with people, much like Nikki. He calls himself "NebulaStrike".

#hypmic #hypmic oc #hypnosis mic #hypnosis mic oc #hypnosis microphone #keiko yumi #criss hiromi #nikki yoshie #akihabara division #otaku corps #drama track

[eveshepherd]

Name: Evelyn Virginia Margaret Shepherd 

Age: Thirty

Preferred Pronouns & Gender: She/her, cis-female

Relationship Status: Married

Previous Job: None

Community Job: Lookout

Reside in: A rundown log cabin in the farmlands— currently trying to make it more livable.

How long have they been in Redwood?: Two months

PINTEREST / PLAYLIST

tldr: eve was born to a young single mother and spent her entire life raised in a doomsday cult. she has never lived a normal life, and believes that the virus is a sign to spread her doctrine and begin cleansing the earth and preparing for the true end.

Biography:

Evelyn was a miracle. Her birth was ordained by a power much greater than just her mother— a girl with a quiet disposition, hands moving up and down the beads of a wooden rosary at all hours. She gave birth to her baby girl, an unblinking infant that did not make a sound. Evelyn does not know any other circumstances of her birth, of the life her mother lead before her. She has learned that if something is not known, it is best to not question it. Information will reveal itself, those who seek too much will find punishment at the righteous hand. 

What she does know is that Diedre took her five year old daughter and her suitcase, and began a long journey. An act of blind faith, of rustic gas stations and hitchhiking, moved by something within her soul. Their direction was unclear, the beads of the rosary continued to move as days passed. They would later call it their pilgrimage, once its true purpose was revealed, the word tripping over young Evelyn’s tongue in long syllables. 

Maryland was not the intended destination of their journey, but as with all things, one must have faith. They must trust that the woman running the strawberry stand off of a non-descript highway. When the woman saw the rosary and said true faith was so rare. When Evelyn had shyly introduced herself from behind her mother’s skirt, earning an expression of shock before the woman recovered her words, inviting them to come back to her home with her. There was surely a bed for a beleaguered mother and daughter. 

It was not until years later that the true reason for their acceptance would become clear. The Eden’s Gate commune had been missing its Eve, searching for the sign of the end of days that was promised to them with each and every morning service. Their Adam, their leader, knew she had been coming, knew the importance of her arrival. While her mother was simply another mouth to feed, another set of hands to garden and clean, Evelyn was special. She was looked after. She was the symbol that the end of all things was near. The daily reminder to be alert and of sober mind so that they may pray, they may survive the coming end. 

Though there was guilt and there was shame in her role, she could not escape the fate that grew around her. Pain was a secret language between God and the faithful; Adam's wrath translated it for her. She knew true love, the commune so intertwined around her, reliant on her good nature. Leaving was never an option, waiting became the great task of her life. How could she abandon those who had raised her, even when the burden felt so great she thought she might be the first to break.

When news of the outbreak reached them finally, it was almost a relief. Here was God's answer to the end of the world. They all prayed, waiting for their ascension. But the attack on their commune had not been predicted, it had not been preached, no one knew what to do. A group of holy people, all descended upon by creatures. The newly turned destroyed everything that they had built. Eden fell, Evelyn was locked out of it. 

Though she escaped, Calamity Shepard by her side, she does not know if any other members have. She does not know what caused such a violent change in God’s will. A massacre so bloody, the only explanation must have been sin, deep and rooted. It must have festered, spread throughout people she’d thought she’d known. They had been bitten before she could cleanse them, save them, send them to heaven. They had hidden their true nature from her, and now would forever be cursed to wander.

 She would prevent such a thing from happening again, the true believers would be found and spared. Those who needed to be saved would be found and given their chance at heaven. Redwood is simply a stop along her journey, another community which must not be overlooked in her journey. God had ordained her mother to deliver her unto the world, and she would deliver souls to heaven all the same. 

Headcanons:

Her full name is Evelyn Virginia Margaret, she did not have a last name until she took Cal’s.

As she was raised in Eden’s Gate, Evelyn is particularly skilled with off-the-grid living. She is able to lend a helping hand wherever it is needed, from gardening to general medicine.

Another consequence of this is that she never had a formal education. Although she was given basic schooling, she has a distinct lack of cultural awareness.

She still keeps her mother’s rosary around her neck.

#tfh.intro #*bio #shes...alot

[nothingtolosebutweight]

I'll be good

I started this lil something when I was on vacation in August, and then somehow lost touch with writing completely. I used the sad 'after-con-mood' last week to blow the dust off this WIP and finish it. I urgently need to get rid of some WIPs these days. They haunt me. 😂 A lot of inspiration came from the video @popcorn1989 posted a while back. If you haven't already left some love on the original post, please do so if you like it too (then maybe we'll get some more great videos in the future 😏)

Character: Ivar Words: ~ 4700 [AO3] Summary: After Ivar returns to Kattegat in season 6B, he finds a quiet place to rest and reflects on past mistakes.

Chants, laughter and loud conversations echoed through the night. The sounds emanated from the feast held in honor of the return of two of Ragnar's sons. Although Ivar had retreated far from the commotion the noises continued to reach his ears. Unlike almost the entire population of Kattegat, he no longer felt like getting drunk on mead and being the center of attention.

Presumably, people didn't care about the actual purpose of the feast anyway, so his absence certainly wouldn't cause any displeasure. More likely, the opposite was true. The mere fact that there was plenty of good food and, above all, booze, was enough for most of them to happily enjoy the celebration. The actual circumstances became a minor matter as more mead flowed down everyone's throats.

Ivar was tired of pretending to have fun himself. He needed a break from all the noise and people constantly staring at him or talking about him behind his back. 

The stone wall at the end of the harbor was his destination at which he finally arrived. With a sigh that clearly revealed the exhaustion that the day had caused him so far, Ivar settled down on it. He placed his crutch beside him to have it at hand at all times before carefully maneuvering his painfully throbbing legs over the edge to sit more comfortably.

The water in front of him caught his eyes. It was illuminated by the light of the moon, making it look like the water's surface was glittering. Ivar wasn't exactly a romantic, but still, he found the sight somehow fascinating, calming. There was something magical about it, as if hundreds of little fairies were dancing on the surface. Carefree and lighthearted, as he also wanted to be some days. 

Ivar took a deep breath and expelled the air with a heavy sigh. Something was gnawing at him. A strange feeling had settled inside him since he catched a glimpse of the harbor of his hometown from a distance while standing on the Russian ship. Something hidden deep inside of him, what he didn't dare admit to himself and which seemed to have its root in the confrontation with his past.

His wish that returning to the place where he had grown up, where his roots were and where he knew every nook and cranny, would bring him some kind of grounding hadn't come true so far. On the contrary, he felt even more restless and on edge than before. 

It was a strange feeling to be back here. In a place where he had once been the leader until he was forced to flee, chased away like an unwanted animal by his own brothers. One of them now back at his side as if betrayal and disappointment had never settled between them. It was their destiny to be together. Neither Ivar nor Hvitserk doubted that by now. They couldn't break this invisible bond, no matter how deep their mutually inflicted injuries ran. Physically as well as mentally.

Two warriors who seemed to be not far from him, loudly chatting, attracted Ivar's attention. Instinctively, he grabbed his crutch in case he had to defend himself and tried to stay hidden in the darkness of the night. He had to be careful who he faced alone. Exposed and unprotected like this.

The booing and spitting that he and Hvitserk had received when they docked at the harbor and walked along the pier into the city already spoke for itself. It hadn't been something one would call a warm welcome. The huge crowd that had gathered in that place would surely have liked to condemn the two of them on the spot to their, in their eyes, deserved punishment. Their eyes had been full of hatred and accusations, their mouths full of insults. In addition, the outraged shouts after King Harald welcomed them both underscored the assumption that their presence here wasn’t particularly desired by the general masses. According to them, Ivar and Hvitserk deserved cold water and a piece of rotten bread in the dungeon instead of the feast that King Harald had ordered in honor of the returned brothers.

In the long run, the celebrations would certainly not change anything. As soon as the fog of alcohol and the associated mood high would disappear, the looks of most would be filled with disdain again. Of this, Ivar was sure, not that it bothered him too much. At least not after such a short time. It was true that he was tired of being the center of all this negative attention. Even though he didn't need to be loved by everyone, the constant worry of being murdered was tugging at his nerves.

His name gave him a dose of security, though. His bloodline the portion of respect that probably prevented most people in Kattegat from putting their murderous thoughts into action.

For Ivar, it was both a curse and a blessing to be a Son of Ragnar Lothbrok.

He didn't want to be just a son in the sagas and legends about their greatest warriors. Ivar was eager to make his own name, one that would surpass all that his father had achieved in glorification. His modest goal was to become the most famous Viking who would ever live. Not comparable to anyone who had done great deeds before and not comparable to all the great personalities that would follow. Not that many more successful Vikings would follow after him. Ivar simply couldn't imagine it. Not with the Christian plague rolling in on them from all sides. He had seen in Russia what had become of former ancestors, how much they had turned their backs on the old gods. Blinded by gold formed into crosses.

But if his father's famous name kept people from murdering him out of bitterness over his past actions, then of course he would use that advantage in his favor. Therefore, he somehow accepted the great shadow that Ragnar had cast over all his children. Still, as long as he was bound to a life in Midgard, he would not give up trying to escape these sometimes too big footsteps.

That he didn't have much time left for this was no secret to Ivar. The Norns hadn't been exactly generous when they had become the task to spin his life thread. For his immediate circle, this was an undeniable fact from the time of his birth. Most people were probably already surprised that he was still alive. Lately, however, Ivar became more and more aware that the upper part of his hourglass of life was no longer quite so filled. His time was slipping through his fingers like the fine sand on Kattegat's coast.

The weakened state of his body made this once purely hypothetical knowledge into a fact that secretly frightened him. The exhausting journey from Russia and all the events that had happened before were still weighing on his bones, making him feel fatigued most of the time. The strain of the war hung over him longer than it had before the last change from frost to blooming meadows. For a long time he had tried to suppress the realization that came with it, not to admit to himself the inescapable, but he was not stupid. He couldn't unsee it any longer. His intelligence forced him to face the obvious.

Despite his iron leg braces, which enabled him to walk, his legs were so weakened and vulnerable on some days recently, that he could only manage longer distances with the greatest effort. Even sitting on a horse tired him out faster than before. Everything became more strenuous, tore at his energy reserves, and made him have to rest more and more often in between during the day. 

The blue of his eyes was now also almost constantly of an intense color. Hardly a day went by without him feeling the critical gaze of Hvitserk, which had accompanied him since his earliest childhood. Unlike before, however, his brother didn't voice his observation, for he knew too well by now that Ivar wouldn't follow his well-intentioned advice to rest completely anyway. Hvitserk seemed at least satisfied that he would allow himself small breaks during the day, but Ivar just couldn’t stay in bed all day. Although sometimes he wanted to. Sometimes it was hard for him to get ready for the day, but he wasn't willing to show his weakness to other people, and most of all, he also wanted to defiantly face his approaching fate. Not to let it get him down or even surrender. That was not him.

A shouted 'Hail Ivar' startled him out of his thoughts again. His eyes slid to the two men, who by now had stopped at a tree. From his position, Ivar could see that the two had probably not seen him yet and he hoped it would stay that way. They were much too busy to stay in an upright position. One of them found this particularly difficult. Again and again, he swayed threateningly and prevented a fall only by bracing himself ungallantly against the tree. 

His companion repeated the words, shouting them twice from the top of his lungs and bumping his fist into the air as if he had a weapon before letting his hand strike his chest several times as if he wanted to use himself as a war drum. The laughter of the two resounded through the night, making the corners of Ivar's mouth move upward a bit.

It was a comforting feeling that some people still worshipped him and that he might be remembered even after his passing.

Sighing, Ivar turned his gaze away from the men again as they slowly moved on with uncertain gait. The focus of his eyes drifted back into the distance,  to where the blackness of the ocean mated with the darkness of the night, turning the horizon into a great mass of nothingness. 

Darkness and void. In a strange way, it felt familiar to him. For a while now, he felt the same way inside, or perhaps, Ivar thought, it also resembled a glimpse into his future. Not only his body was weakening. His mind seemed to be losing its strength as well. His future was uncertain, his past was marked by losses that had made him tired. Ivar had reached a point where he no longer knew where his journey should lead him, which ambition was still worth pursuing. Where should he go? Where to reap the next glory?

What was left in the scale of his destiny?

What else did the gods have in store for him? Was he still in their favor or did only scorn and mockery remain for him? Ivar was tortured by a lot of questions these days and was no longer sure if he could still make the gods proud and himself be welcomed into their hall.

This uncertainty frightened him if he was honest with himself. What was left for him, a cripple, but to hope that one day he could celebrate with the gods and to feel worthy of being a real Viking? Wasn't this the basis of his ambition? What he had already yearned for his entire life? So what was left for him if even this broke away like another bone in his malformed legs?

He wished the seer would still be alive. Somewhere in reach. Ivar longed for his kind of guidance. Although his words were always spoken in riddles and his prophecies always sounded mystical and never had a clear statement, they had nevertheless spurred on his own fantasy and ensured that Ivar had been able to see the possible path that lay ahead for him. Oh, how he needed that kind of guidance right now. He regretted the killing of the seer more and more these days.

Regret had generally become a constant companion. It haunted him so often during the day. Especially in the moments when he secretly withdrew to rest, unseen by the public, to recharge his batteries when his body made it clear that he had reached his limits.

My past has tasted bitter for years now.

So I wield an iron fist.

He regretted a few things. Words, deeds, decisions made for the wrong reasons, and he still bore the pain of the numerous losses he had suffered so far.

The loss of his throne was just a minor matter. This hurt only his ego. He had enjoyed the power, the feeling of having accomplished something that no one would have believed him capable of. Ivar couldn’t deny that. He also was still proud of it, somehow. It had been an important step in his great goal of cementing his name into the legends. It had been a defining time, but he became indifferent to the whole thing of being a ruler and sitting on a throne. The thought of it no longer filled him with motivation. Rather, it felt like a burden. King Harald had nothing to worry about because Hvitserk didn't see himself as a regent either.

Deeper wounds had been left by other losses. His beloved mother, his cherished father, both of them taken from him far too early at the hands of others. Yet there were also those for which he himself was responsible, whose demise filled him with shame and guilt as well.

Sigurd and Bjorn, his older brothers, who met their deaths at his hands. One out of anger and poor impulse control, the other as a late consequence of his mother's murder. Sometimes he missed them, Bjorn more than Sigurd. Although his half-brother had been absent most of the time during his childhood, Ivar still admired his strength and his ability to lead people just as much as he hated him for the fact that Bjorn had never really taken him seriously or considered him an equal.  He had always felt small and inferior next to him. 

Ivar tried to imagine what his life would be like if they, or just Björn, would still be here. What would be different then? Would it be better, or would there always be serious arguments either way, since Sigurd and Björn were also the brothers he had always clashed with most often? It was quite possible that he may not have returned to Kattegat in the first place if he hadn't put an end to his eldest brother's life. Björn would certainly have welcomed him in a different way than King Harald.

Freydis. He had loved her deeply and her death by his hands continued to haunt him to this day. So much that he had projected her beautiful face onto the next best woman to numb the pain of her loss. Ivar was unsure if he would ever again find a woman who would cut as deeply into his being as Freydis had done. Not just because of his limited time. She had been perfect for him, had given him so much extra self-confidence, and most of all, the feeling of being worthy of being loved. She was everything he had never dared to dream of before, until one day she wasn't anymore. How could there be a woman out there, who would even be more perfect and then on top also interested in him? Ivar couldn't imagine being that lucky, and he wasn't sure if he was even ready to trust in love again. His father had once told him that happiness was nothing, and perhaps there was much more truth in those words than he had realized at the time.

Her betrayal had hurt him deeply. His wounded pride was the first thing that filled him with rage and spurred him into action. It had guided his hands as he had wrapped the belt tightly around her delicate throat, taking the essential air from her lungs with brute force. At that time it seemed right and also as the only option to kill her. She had betrayed him, driven a dagger of treachery through his heart. He saw no way to overlook this crime then, but today he was not so sure anymore. Perhaps he could have dealt with it differently, could have spared himself the pain he was now carrying around, as he did with many other things as well.

Baldur is another example. His innocent son. Doubts about whether he had really saved him from a life not worth living never tired haunting him in quiet hours. Especially in Kyiv, with Igor at his side looking up to him, he had often caught himself thinking about his sweet little Baldur. What kind of boy would he have grown up to be? What would their bond have been like? He would never know, as he had taken away Baldur's chance to prove himself. Out of mercy, as he had convinced himself at the time, but a deep inner voice accused him of something else. The shame that his offspring carried his taint may have been the real reason.

Thora's face appeared before him, the unburned one because he never made the effort to see for himself if his orders had been fulfilled the way he wanted them. It had been a minor matter for him to burn people alive for questioning his way of ruling. With her, it was not the grief for her person per se that haunted him. She meant nothing to him. He could admit this without remorse. It was rather the rift with Hvitserk that gnawed at him. As well as the idea that his brother had loved that girl. Maybe not as much as he had once loved Freydis, but he was nevertheless in love with her. For Ivar, it was mortifying that he had destroyed his brother's happiness for such base reasons. He had caused Hvitserk an avoidable pain that he now would have to carry with him for the rest of his life. His brother's often impassive, dull eyes ensured that he wouldn't forget his guilt.

Even though Hvitserk was now back at his side, supporting him, Ivar still felt at moments the crack that his past deeds had driven between them. It might only be as big as a tiny splinter of wood, but it still caused painful sensations every time it made itself felt. 

Sighing, Ivar leaned forward a bit more, draping his legs more apart, to be able to look at the surface of the water more closely.

The water in front of him was restless, as were his thoughts. Again and again, waves crashed against the stone wall on which he sat, dissolving their existence while making themselves loudly heard one last time before they vanished seconds later into white foam, becoming one with the sea again, waiting to be reborn.

The sea seemed ominously gloomy at night. Even during the day, Ivar had never been a big fan of the open sea. It always gave him a queasy feeling. The imagination of what could lurk beneath the surface made his skin crawl. Not only once in his previous travels had he suspected he saw the outline of the goddess Ran or one of her numerous daughters, just waiting for the ship to sway and provide them with sailors who they could capture with their claws and drag into the depths. The once strong warriors would thus be turned into playthings of mythic sea creatures. Damned for eternity.

Despite the darkness around him, Ivar saw the outline of his reflection dancing on the surface of the water. The small torches at his sides provided enough light for that.

He looked at it thoughtfully, noting that his pitch-black shadow, constantly changing through the waves, contorting into wild shapes, had something demonic, evil about it. Ivar remembered the bishop he once held captive, clinging to the mistaken belief that he would fight for him. He recalled that Heahmund had once compared him to the devil and that the thought had amused him. In a way, it also had made him proud that he was thought to be so powerful and, above all, vicious that even strong people like him feared him.

Today he wondered if it had been worth it to create this image of himself to compensate for his weak shell. Was it even a creation, Ivar questioned himself. Was it not perhaps his actual true face that he had shown? Maybe he was evil, rotten on the inside and his broken body was just the manifestation of the fact that there was something very wrong with him. How else could he explain his actions? His ruthlessness toward people who had been close to him.

Grace is just weakness

Or so I've been told

I've been cold, I've been merciless

But the blood on my hands scares me to death

Maybe I'm waking up today

In principle, these questions were as void as he felt sometimes. His deeds remain. No matter what answers he would find, he wouldn't be able to undo anything. 

Another wave crushed his shadow, erasing his second existence, and Ivar felt deep within himself the need to have waves wash over him as well, taking with them everything he no longer wanted. He wanted to reshape himself as his shadow did when the sea calmed for a short time. 

From now on, he should no longer place his trust in the wrong supporters. Ivar knew that now, was bitterly aware of the fact that he had let the wrong voices into his head to feed his pride and legitimize his anger at anyone who had a different opinion than he did. He had become deaf to other advice, had always seen it only as a threat. He had only scorn and ridicule for those who, in the end, had certainly only meant well with him, who could see the dangers of his actions, his path.

With these thoughts, the image of Ubbe appeared in his mind's eye. Ivar had tried not to think about him, but how could he not think about the brother whom he had pushed away from him with a devilish smile full of megalomania? He had humiliated him in front of all the other warriors and he had enjoyed it then. That was the bitter part for him.

Ubbe, who had always been there for him before. For as long as he could remember, Ubbe had been the one who, next to his mother, had taken care of him the most. On good days and especially also on bad ones. 

Ubbe was the one who had carried him piggyback for hours without complaint so that he wouldn't have to crawl over the bumpy forest floor and could still take part in the brotherly excursions. That he was allowed to come along at all was also thanks to Ubbe's negotiating skills and the fact that her mother knew she could trust her eldest.

Ubbe had also been the first to involve him in training, he had put a sword in his hand so that he no longer felt excluded and useless. He was the one who had been always eager to include him in everything possible to give his little brother a sense of belonging.

Ubbe, who hadn’t grown tired of rubbing herbal oils into his scattered skin to ease his pain on the worst of days, also without complaining. He could have done so much better things in those times and maybe he regretted now that he had lost so much of his time to a brother who had later literally spit in his face while grinning like the madman he probably was.

The pain of realizing what Ivar had lost when he sacrificed their brotherhood for fame and glory couldn't be eased by any amount of herbal oil.

He missed Ubbe. Deeply. A tear that made its way down his cheek was witness to this. 

I never meant to start a fire

I never meant to make you bleed.

Ivar knew that his older brother was out there somewhere. Although he had only been back for a short time, he already heard that Ubbe had recently left on a journey to discover new lands. That meant that he was still alive, at least Ivar had not heard or sensed otherwise.

 ____________________________

Time passed while Ivar pursued his thoughts. Time didn't care if someone wanted to hold on to a moment, to enjoy it longer, or to escape what inevitably followed. Time simply continued, unfazed by anything or anyone.

Soon the darkness and the quiet of the night disappeared, making way for the first faint rays of daylight that slowly fought their way up the horizon, along with the first sounds other than the crashing of the waves. Fishermen at the other end of the harbor began to prepare for the imminent departure, attracting Ivar's attention with their loud conversations.

Now feeling how tired he had become in the meantime, Ivar rubbed his eyes and let the yawn that followed this gesture follow without suppression. It was time for him to return to his hut to at least get some sleep before King Harald certainly wanted to have further conversations. The king seemed to be haunted by the fear that the two Lothbrok brothers were driven by more ambition than just the fact that they missed their hometown. Who could blame him for his mistrust?

Just as Ivar was about to get up, reprimanding himself for sitting too long on the cold stone, which he now painfully felt, he suddenly heard the sound of a horn.

He recognized the meaning of it immediately and turned around once more, letting his eyes wander across the ocean. There had to be at least one ship out there for that sound to be blown.

It didn't take him long til he as well saw the tiny silhouette far far away. Ivar could just make out one boat so far and his initial thought, that there might be an attack incoming, disappeared. One single ship couldn't do much damage.

To be sure, Ivar waited a little longer in his spot, his eyes cautiously fixed on the shape, which was becoming easier to see as time passed. No other silhouette came into his field of vision either, which stirred up another thought.

A thought that was born out of hope. A single boat on the horizon fueled in him the faint hope that he might be able to see Ubbe again, and that he could make amends to him, that he would not have to wait until they both faced each other in Valhalla to do so - if he himself would be accepted there at all. 

The closer the unknown crew came to the harbor, the stronger the desire formed in Ivar to talk to Ubbe again and foremost, to show him how he had changed in the meantime. He wished for the days when he stayed with his brothers in the hunting lodge, teasing each other without spraying bitter bile or sending pointed arrowheads to split the other's ego in two. He wanted the lightheartedness back. The feeling of brotherhood. The familiarity of blood relatives around him in his last days, weeks, months, who had supported him from his earliest years.

A smile formed on Ivar's face as he thought of all that he would like to have back. He surrendered to the thoughts for a moment, feasting on them, before his lips moved as if automatically, uttering the words that seemed to come directly from his heart.

"I promise you, I'll be good. I'll be a better man today." Ivar whispered these words, letting the wind carry them into the infinity that the ocean sometimes appeared to be.

Even though it may not have been Ubbe's ship, Ivar hoped that his words would survive the waves and the wind until one day they would reach his brother. Even if they wouldn't see each other again, he wanted Ubbe to hear those words from him.

——————————————

@youbloodymadgenius@istorkyou@ivarlover

I loved the bond Ivar had with Ubbe before they fell out, so in my mind, Ubbe is on that ship - together with Floki, because he should have seen Ivar again as well T_T They repair their bond before Ivar leaves for Valhalla and have some happy moments together. Amen.

#vikings #vikings fanfiction #vikings fanfic #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #vikings fic #ivar vikings #canon divergence #my stuff #my writing

[sandandstarz]

Mallow Flowers (1)

Malva sylvestris: Mallow carries many symbolic meanings that overlap, including romantic interest, healing, and survival in tough conditions.

(a/n) This is my first TWD fic but I've been watching the series for a while :) This post will also continue into a series, thankyou so much for reading and any feedback is appreciated (a/n end)

You don't know how long it had been since the world fell apart, days? weeks? months? It didn't matter, all you could focus on was the burning in your feet and shins, and the painful cramp in your ribs. The sun beamed down through the trees, what was once a beautiful green canopy you could find solace in, now obstacles as you ran through the woods, forcing yourself to keep going against your body's will. In some desperate attempt to ignore its pleas your mind went to anything it could, and that was the cause of the world’s fall. You had never been religious but you thought if there was a god, he had one fucked up sense of humor to bring the dead back to life. Though as if he heard you, an unearthed root caught your worn down sneakers and sent you tumbling head first down a hill. 

Finally your body came to a stop, more bruised than before, a stinging cut adorning the bridge of your nose, you're pretty sure it's broken. A groan left your lungs and you shifted to get up, but you were barely able to lift your hands more than a few inches off the muddy soil. Muddy… OH MY GOD. Mud, the sign that there was a stream in reach. As soon as the promise of water reached your cloudy mind, so did the scratchy feeling in your mouth and throat, that small stream suddenly became your goal, a life line to reach for. 

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Hand gripping the earth, slightly pushing your body up slowly, following the rhythm of your now caught breath. It was agonizing, not the physical pain, but the sound of running water, that couldn't be more than ten feet away, but was miles out of reach. Though you were never one to give up, not when you were little, not when your teenage self thought being happy was impossible, and definitely not now, not when your life depended on it when your life depended on it.

“Dad this is impossible, can't we just stop for today?” 

The wooden bow clutched that had fired arrows anywhere but the red not in the middle of the target. You knew it was possible to let go of that string and had the sharpened tip make a bullseye. You've seen it done many times, even by the tall man next to you, but in your hands it felt like you were destined to fail.

“It ain't impossible y/n, you just need practice more, if you give up now y'all know if the next arrow you shoot i'll be the one to hit that target”

His eyes met yours, and they held the same look they did whenever you tried to give up, the encouragement and strictness that kept you trying.

You hadn't hit a bullseye that day, but you went out the next and the next until that red dot no longer seemed like a threat, but an achievable target you had learned to concur. 

Each movement felt like dragging a weight behind you, the overexertion, sleep deprivation, and over all malnourishment was catching up. You didn't know you had crossed what felt like the Oregon trail to the stream until the cuts on your hands stung slightly at the cool liquid. It didn't take long for you to dunk your face into it, all reasonable thought gone as you scooped water into your mouth with your hands, stomach hurting from the odd feeling of not being completely empty. Laying back to face the sky you felt as though for the first time since the end, you weren't completely fucked. You knew you weren't safe, not with the dead walking, but that didn't stop your lead heavy eyelids from betraying you and falling closed.

Dreams have meanings, hell theres books about it. But you didn't quite know what a dream about a crossbow wielding man carrying you away from the stream you passed out is supposed to symbolize. Maybe he was sometime of guardian angel here to bring you to the afterlife? Who knows, if he is, at least your guardian angel's handsome

Fun fact of the post: I just got broken up with (^-^)

#twd fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon #twd angst #twd fluff

[darethshirl]

Entry for zevwarden week (@zevraholics), Zevran/Male!Mahariel, 600 words

Day 6: Death

                                                        —

The dalish elves had no cemeteries.

It was a difficult concept for Zevran to comprehend at first—even the lowliest alienage had a designated area for the dead, neat little graveyards where each slim plot touched its neighbour. Zveran had more than once visited the one in Antiva City, scaling walls and rooftops in the middle of the night like a trespassing shadow. His mother’s grave had remained undisturbed throughout the years, there despite the fact that neither of them lived in the community anymore. If people had resented Zevran’s presence—if they’d ever even noticed him—then none of them had said so outright. So Zevran had kept visiting, clutching whatever paltry offering he’d managed to gather close to his chest. Any flowers left behind would wilt and rot long before he could replace them.

The simple ceremony of it all had never made him feel any better, truth be told. Still, he’d come back over and over again, long after he’d grown out of his coltish childhood body into the Crow’s perfect weapon. Long after the image of his mother’s face had eroded from his memory. He could still remember the love he’d felt, the filial loyalty, that particularly bittersweet brand of affection for a parent that failed but still tried their best. It had been enough.

In the here and now, the Brecillian forest stretched out in all directions like an endless expanse of trees, an ocean in its own right. Zevran walked under its dappled canopy, his footsteps silent out of pure habit. His destination was no place in particular; a dalish clan had no borders, and only the vaguest of boundaries over its territory. So Zevran searched patiently, looking for anything that seemed fitting. A sunlit clearing, perhaps, or a shady glade filled with flowers.

When he finally spotted Mahariel it was in a sunny patch of lustrous grass, surrounded by oak trees all around. The sapling in front of him was young and limber, unfurling upwards in a straight, proud line. Its leaves were a vibrant green, and its supple skin gleamed with moisture. The area around its roots was cleared and well-maintained, evidence of Mahariel’s recent efforts.

Zevran knelt next to him, demanding no conversation or attention. Mahariel sat with empty hands resting on his thighs—the dalish had no offerings, Zevran remembered, gave nothing more tangible than the physical act of caring for the plant. He suddenly wondered how many of the tall trees he’d passed by were markers for the long-dead, were eternal, living tombstones. Perhaps it wasn’t for an outsider to know the signs. Or perhaps each grave was a secret private to each mourner, a symbol of life hiding the melancholy realities lying underneath.

Mahariel sighed then, breaking the somber silence. “Do you think,” he said, his eyes distant, his cheeks speckled with dried tear-tracks, “that we ever stop feeling guilt?”

Zevran’s lips twisted into a rueful smile. “I think the living will always feel guilty before the dead, no matter what.” He reached and held Mahariel’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly. It wasn’t your fault, he thought, but didn’t say out loud. He knew from first-hand experience how useless the sentiment would be. “It’s our lot to live, and to carry the weight for all those that are gone.”

Moments passed as Mahariel stood still, spine straight even as his fingers clenched, his grip on Zevran tight enough to bruise.. “It’s hard,” he said quietly, mournfully.

“I know.” Zevran rubbed his thumb over the back of Mahariel’s hand, imparting what comfort he could. “My love, I know. But we must still carry it. It’s our duty to live, and to remember. That’s all we can do.”

A second passed, two, then Mahariel deflated with an exhale. He bowed his back, his eyes falling closed. He still clutched at Zevran’s hand like it was his only lifeline. “Thank you.”

“I’m here,” Zevran said simply, and meant it. It was enough.

#zevran arainai #zevwarden #zevran x warden #dragon age #zevwarden week 2022 #Zevran/Mahariel #zevran x m!warden #fanfiction #my writing

[papriakter240]

Douban, finally learned to tell stories?

Niche has always been the label of Douban literature. Now Douban uses IP to adapt movies and TV shows, once again showing its ambition to gain national attention. Is there any chance that Douban IP will suddenly emerge and form a new force that threatens the two leading IPs, Jinjiang and Qidian?

Douban IP, which seems to have no sense of existence, has been gaining momentum recently like a dark horse.

In the world of web-based dramas that have been dominated by Jinjiang and Qidian for many years, Douban has recently produced impressive data.

First, Mango Monsoon's new drama "The Pretender Apocalypse" interprets the real workplace and the emotional struggle between men and women, and then "Nine Righteous People" pays tribute to "Fang Siqi's First Love Paradise". The breaking of the convention of the revenge narrative of nine people's cooperation is also quite interesting. head.

Then there is "Good Things Come in Twos", which has concluded. The Detavin Boom Index exceeded 1.5 on the first day of the broadcast, broke 2 on the third day of the broadcast and continued until the end. The cumulative total broadcast volume is about to exceed 500 million, and the broadcast market HE Tuber proportion reached 20.24%, reaching the top of the list.

"Niche" has always been the label of Douban Literature. It is not surprising that high-quality IP adaptations like "The Pretender Apocalypse" have received favorable reviews, but the audience is also limited.

However, the popularity of "Good Things Come in Twos" seems to tell us that Douban has once again shown an ambition to gain national attention.

This is a very iconic signal. But does Douban IP really have a chance to suddenly emerge and form a new force that threatens the two leading IPs of Jinjiang and Qidian?

1. Douban has finally learned to “tell stories” after all its stumbles?

Tianya, Renren, Douban, Maopu, Xici Hutong, Baidu Tieba...

Which of these PC-era communities have touched your memory? They have nurtured some sacred texts that are still circulating today, but they have also been destroyed one after another with the advent of the mobile Internet. And Douban still exists.

We will not discuss Douban’s stumbling exploration into mobile here. The "Life of Douban Trapped" previously released by Shentong Business has made it very clear.

I just want to emphasize that although Douban’s ratings and book, video and audio recommendations are deeply rooted in the hearts of the people, Douban has always faced a serious problem: the lack of content copyright.

After many bumps and bruises, Douban finally began to embark on the destined path of content communities like Zhihu - telling stories.

Telling stories and listening to stories are two desires shared by human beings.

Zhihu, which has an "average annual salary of one million people", finally began to sell weird and appetizing micro-novel.

In fact, this is also the path that Xianyu is taking today - on the Xianyu platform that engages in second-hand trading, there are always some "true" stories that are joyful, funny, sad and lingering on the items that are sold with straw marks.

The content productivity of Douban’s early users is very strong. Who would have thought that the diary "My Friend Miss Chen Bailu" casually published by a user named "Haitang" could be made into a TV series?

And in the "Douban Group" - a place where most people use it to complain, chat about interesting things and even make friends in the same city - who would have thought of the long post in the group "My girlfriend of ten years is getting married." 》Can you make a movie?

Let’s take a look:

Douban version 1.0 - "Check the most reliable book, video and audio ratings anytime, anywhere";

Douban version 6.0 - Returning to "your book, video and audio world" again.

After years of exploration, Douban has focused on its core production content - books, periodicals, movies and TV shows - in the midst of the "increasingly fascinating" bifurcations of tools, communications, and social networking.

From passively evaluating movies and TV shows to becoming a producer of movie and TV content, has Douban finally figured it out?

Of course, the film and television exploration of original literature needs to rely not only on the platform itself, but also on effective integration and precise incision with capital and the market.

2. Douban IP keywords: Ningmeng Pictures, realism

Speaking of the "resurrection" of Douban Film and Television IP, Ningmeng Pictures cannot be skipped.

Ningmeng Pictures specializes in IP dramas and reality-themed dramas. The former includes "Choose the Sky'', "Swinging" and "Jiuzhou Piao Miao Lu", while the latter includes "Mr. Good'', "Twenty Not Confused", "Thirty Only" and other urban dramas. Emotional dramas, family educational dramas such as "Little Joy" and "Little Willing", as well as suspense dramas such as "Crime Hunters" and "Cowards' '.

The IP scripts originally developed by Ningmeng still have strong traffic attributes. They focus on the works of well-known online writers - Mao Ni, the original author of "Zhe Tian Ji", Jiang Nan, the original author of "Jiuzhou Piaomiao Lu", and Tian Xia Gui, the original author of "Fuyao" Yuan, Xing Ling, the original author of "Eternal Jue Chen"

However, these IP adaptations have not brought Ningmeng success in developing new costume dramas.

"The Legend of the Destiny" was criticized for its special effects. "Jiuzhou Piao Miao Lu" failed to capture the essence of the original work. Douban only scored 5.9 points. "Fuyao" used the guise of feminism but still had a strong Mary Sue flavor and scored even lower (4.7 points).

Problems with the script, actors, and themes are also eroding the credibility of Ningmeng's production.

As the industry gradually breaks away from the superstition of "big traffic + big IP", coupled with Ningmeng's reputation for women's topic dramas "Twenty Do Not Confused", "Thirty Only" and family education drama "Little Joy", Ningmeng has gained a reputation Start looking for an IP library that matches your own style

Realistic orientation, female topics, suspense style, and good quality. These qualities, without exception, all point to Douban.

Douban Reading is different from other online literature platforms that have a clear "male/female channel" tendency. It uses the classification of "genre novels" internally. You can see "Romance", "Suspense", "Women" and "Fantasy" on the homepage. "Four key types.

Taking the "female" genre as an example, it is divided into four themes: "Working Women/Family Stories/Growth Counterattack/Marriage Life".

It can be seen that Douban wants to open up a path of original literature with high quality, strong literary nature and reality orientation between pure literature and online literature.

Naturally, indispensable for this path is a team of high-quality authors. Most of Douban's well-known authors graduated from prestigious schools - Yi Bei, the original author of "Xiao Min Jia", graduated from Beijing Normal University, and Liu Cuihu, the original author of "The Pretender Revelation" graduated from Peking University.

Now that Internet article authors and readers are getting younger and younger, the theme, concept, and core depth of the work are still affected to some extent by the author's knowledge, the platform's tonality, and the reader's level.

In 2018, Douban Reading announced its spin-off from Douban Group and completed a 60 million yuan Series A financing, with Ningmeng Pictures as the investor.

At that time, Douban Reading announced that one of the goals of the platform was to "provide downstream film and television companies with high-quality IP targets that are missing in the market." The words "high-quality IP" can be said to be a symptom of IP adaptation in the film and television market for many years.

To be fair, Douban literature shows more profound social thinking and humanistic care than most online articles.

For example, a new drama adapted from "Nine Righteous People" by Douban author Li Boyu was recently played on Tencent Video. She said at the end of the work that this "Nine People's Revenge" is a tribute to Taiwanese writer Lin Yihan's "Fang Siqi's" "Paradise of First Love", this kind of deep connection with real society is very rare in online literature.

Douban also regularly holds "Length Rally Competitions", setting up three categories: "Female", "Suspense" and "Fantasy" to discover high-quality original works.

"The Pretend Apocalypse" (author Liu Cuihu), which received a lot of praise in August this year, was the champion of Douban's second long-form rally competition. It received support from 15,000 readers, votes from 3 observation groups, and more than 1.5 million reads.

In fact, most of the works that have won the championship of the long-form rally competition have a strong flavor of life and reality, and are good at writing about the emotions, work and life of urban mature men and women.

Award-winning works such as "Paper Port" and "Shanghai Fireworks" all have vivid and true descriptions of regional culture and workplace life. In this way, they naturally avoid the "suspended background" and "human characters" of online articles on female channels such as Jinjiang. Issues such as “exaggerated assumptions” and “falsehood in the workplace”.

From an industry perspective, Douban Reading and Ningmeng Pictures not only coincide with each other in terms of subject matter types and creative fields, but they also conform to the trend of "realism" in the film and television industry.

In addition, Douban Literature, which is small in size and suitable for adaptation into short plays, has also caught up with the major video platforms to reduce costs and increase efficiency. It can be said that it is the right time, and people are ready for the trend.

But how long can this gust of wind help Douban spread its wings and how high can it fly? This requires talking about the degree of compatibility between Douban’s works and the mass market.

3. The marketization problem of niche Douban: How likely is it to break through?

Douban Reading CEO Dai Qin once positioned Douban Reading as "serious reading, mass market". This seems like an oxymoron.

Douban Literature has always been serious, realistic, and niche. The original IP works are not well-known, and they lack the traffic base of well-known IPs like Jinjiang and Qidian. This is also the biggest problem in Douban IP film and television adaptations.

But what is interesting is that nowadays, after several years of popularity of fairy tales, martial arts, fantasy and other themes, the audience has entered a period of aesthetic burnout, and realist themes are prevalent.

Douban IP is facing a rare period of development opportunities, and the key is to find the anchor point that resonates with the current audience's emotions.

In the "Publishing and Adaptation" interface on Douban's homepage, we can see that Douban's most popular works are suspense, women, and romance.

From the perspective of Shenzhen Tong Commercial, if Douban wants to have more chemical reactions with the current film and television drama market, it must start thinking from these three types of works.

Let’s talk about the female type first:

Douban's discussion of the plight of women in life can accurately capture the current audience psychology and the trend of feminism. It not only incorporates novel professional elements and industry thinking, but also arouses the curiosity of the audience;

At the same time, it also pays more attention to the growth line of women, and even focuses on portraying female group portraits. If the adaptation is successful, it may be able to fill the gap of "pseudo heroines" adapted from female romance web IP dramas.

For example, the heroine of "Night Run" is a Peking Opera niche, "Sanqi" explores the female architect Lu Jia's myths about her career in the era of artificial intelligence; the protagonist of "Full-time "Dutiful Daughter" Li Cailing" is a bereaved young man Li Cailing. After joining the funeral industry Reflect on life through life and death events;

"Unreachable Nanting Mountain" tells the story of Zhou Lan, a low-class girl who grew up from a leather goods factory worker to a strong woman in the shopping mall; "Six Sisters" focuses on the sixty-year inspirational life of the six sisters surnamed He in Huainan, Anhui.

On the basis of the "niche" quality, for audiences who have had enough of the cliche routines of domestic dramas, it should be feasible to play the "novel" card and rely on the core of the work to arouse resonance or thinking deeply enough.

Let’s talk about the romance genre:

Douban Literature is good at describing the emotional entanglements of mature men and mature women. Compared with the "house-style love" and "suspended" Internet writing routines, the portrayal of human nature will be more realistic and can show more complex human nature and emotional relationships.

For example, "Her Disguise" is an emotional contest between a strong woman in the workplace and her lover who has been used by her; "The Liar Who Married Me" is a movie in which the male and female protagonists are both "liars" with their own agendas, and their characters are novel; "I Hope" "People Last" starts from the perspective of a couple's divorce and explores how to respect each other's individuality in marriage.

One trend that deserves attention is that Douban Literature pays attention to the psychology of contemporary urban youth's "return to hometown" and the social psychology of longing to be healed by rural villages and warm human feelings.

Mango TV's "Go Where the Wind Is" is a typical example, and Douban has sold the film and television rights to "Walking Between Water and Clouds" where the hero and heroine heal each other during the hike in the mountains. "It's Better to Go Wild" and "Japanese" The two works "Partial Eclipse" are more similar to "Go Where the Wind Is", and they both have a "pastoral healing" flavor.

In a word, Douban literature has enough depth in exploring emotions and human nature, and the quality of the scripts is not bad, so it has the possibility of topic fermentation and in-depth discussion.

For example, in the previously popular "Good Things Come in Twos", the main plot "women help each other to fight against scumbags" is not very novel, but the characters and themes are outstanding.

Although Lin Shuang and Jiang Xi are labeled as the "major wife" and the "mistress" on the surface, in fact they both face difficulties in the process of growing up as women. Lin Shuang is trapped between the options of "raising a husband and raising children" and "personal growth", while Jiang Xi faces The urban dilemma of a small-town girl.

"How to reinvent yourself after emotional failure" - this is a more valuable theme than "Breaking Bad Guys".

Finally, there is the suspense genre.

Social reasoning has always been a type of suspense drama that is more likely to arouse social discussion.

In 2017, "White Night" and "Undocumented Crime" were popular, and in 2020, "The Hidden Corner" and "The Silent Truth" set off a suspense craze for Zijin Chen's socialist reasoning.

But after Zijin Chen's trilogy, suspense dramas seem to be lacking in success. It wasn't until 2023 that "The Long Season" cleverly combined the comedy genes of the Northeast with suspense, and was able to break the circle.

Among the suspense works that Douban has sold the copyright to, there are also those that explore the human nature and social issues behind the cases.

For example, "Everything She Knows" involves the friendship of two girls and the dusty Jiang family murder case through a diary; "Casserole" reveals the broken lives of two families and four teenagers through a sexual assault incident; "Silent Testimony" explores the story of how "victims" gradually become "perpetrators" in the Internet era.

Such works are naturally more likely to arouse heated discussions.

Ma Lilingshan, founder of Wuyuan Culture, once said:

"Based on the development of modern investigative technology, it is not consistent with objective laws to create purely suspenseful works. However, current suspense dramas can go in two directions:

One is social suspense like "The Hidden Corner" and "The Silent Truth", and the other is superimposing suspense elements into other genres. "

At present, domestic suspense dramas are falling into the trap of homogeneity. It is difficult for traditional suspense detectives to arouse the interest of the audience. If all major platforms want to break the situation, they need some innovative elements in plots, settings, and characters.

There are those that try "female-oriented" suspense like "White Moonlight" produced by Youku, and there are also those that take the "mystery suspense" route like iQiyi's "Tang Dynasty Strange Stories", and there are also ones like "Detective Smell of Fragrance" This is how you play "Superpower Detective".

Tencent's hit "Nine Righteous People" in September also has ingenious plot arrangements. The plots of "Seven Years Ago" and "Seven Years After" are intertwined. Netizens jokingly said: "One episode makes me feel angry with memories, and the other episode is full of revenge." happy".

On Douban, the sold version of "The Young Girl '' follows the ancient reasoning route, with the Dali Temple's Prime Minister Pei Zhen and the maid In Pan'er investigating the case together. It looks a bit like "The Imperial Gift of a Little Wit".

"White Bird Fell into the Jungle" breaks away from the routine of conventional suspense dramas. Through the editor's interviews and footage, it unravels many complex character relationships;

"Girl's Farewell Letter" starts with the assassination of a blogger and a mysterious threatening letter, and launches a police pursuit game;

"Who Killed My Future Me" also combines "time travel" elements with suspense. The heroine Ye Keke struggles to save her future self from her tragic life, which is also quite interesting.

To sum up, Douban IP is relatively novel and cutting-edge in terms of plot and setting, the characterization is more three-dimensional and full, and the human nature, emotions and social issues discussed are richer and more profound, with the quality of genre novels.

Compared with some online articles produced under the industrialized model, it has its own appeal, and it is not a problem to gain word-of-mouth praise within the circle.

As for whether it can truly break the circle, we can roughly refer to the difference between the two circle-breaking dramas "The Pretender Revelation" and "Nine Righteous People" and the two dramas "Good Things Come in Twos" and "Xiao Min's Family".

"The Apocalypse of Pretending" is small in size and has a clear reality orientation. Its emotional expression is subtle and artistic, and its aesthetics are alienated;

Although "The Nine Righteous" focuses on "revenge", compared to the popular revenge drama "Dark Glory", the overall narrative rhythm is more tame, the plot is not "refreshing" enough, and the characters are not so radical and alternative, so these two dramas are still discarded. Those who have entered the sinking market are taking the route of word-of-mouth and high-quality products.

"Xiao Min's Family" opens with a couple Liu Xiaomin and Chen Zhuo preparing to celebrate their anniversary. However, due to the sudden arrival of their family members, Chen Zhuo can only pretend to be an "online ride-hailing driver". This also uses the "short vest" method. Strong plot mode.

At the same time, it also created a suspenseful atmosphere of "Why do you fall in love secretly?", allowing the audience to follow the drama with questions. Later, there are seemingly bloody and down-to-earth settings such as "the ex-husband and his best friend fall in love", which firmly locked the audience. sinking market.

"Good Things Come in Twos" is very clever in the arrangement of plot rhythm. The first five episodes use a bright and interesting "traffic code" such as "Check the mistress and catch the mistress" to open up the sinking market and quickly bring the audience in, and it is clear The personality image of each character is clearly established.

Later, the narrative pace slows down, leaving enough space for the laying out of character details and the extension of emotional context. However, because the audience has already developed empathy with the protagonist at the beginning, they will also choose to follow the drama.

Simply put, if Douban IP adaptation is to break the circle, it may require the superposition of strong type elements to radiate more circles. For example: "Suspense", "Fantasy", "Love", "Family", "Workplace", "Martial Arts", "Spy War", "Palace and House Fights", "Comedy" and "Strong Women".

Or it needs a narrative plot that resonates well with the sinking market, such as various competitions, misunderstandings, suspicions, and conflicts, etc.

Is the way of superimposing elements innovative? Is the superimposed effect surprising enough? Is the strong plot enough to spark discussion in a wider circle? These will affect the possibility of Douban IP adaptations breaking out of the circle.Douban, finally learned to tell stories?

#HETuber #Music #Gaming #Entertainment #Sports #Science And Technology

[shufflebuff-blog]

words

Well this is a weird time. I can't tell if I'm just manic or lonely these days. Lots of people who I CAN connect with, lots of people I SHOULD connect with, and the overwhelming unfathomable depth of people I don't connect with, despite that being the primary axiom these days.

So I write to the void, not for a pen pal but because I hope my words can give me some meaning when all seems upside down.

I invite myself own in the midst of mania, in the throws of struggle and I can't help but worry about who I may become. The human imagination is a limitless font of incredible beauty, but the risks dipping your toes in too deeply might make you see the youth in every direction. It doesn't always have to be a demon that's whispering into your ear, despite that's what you want it to be.

Instead of the negative kneejerk reactionisms, I'd rather move on to being slightly more enlightened. I think I am getting there slowly, but breakups break open who you were and leaves you to collect the pieces. Sometimes you don't always get put back together the right way, sometimes some extra pieces come along with, sometimes you're missing the edges and corners. But without a constraining edge, you can reach for new potentials, new limits, and opportunities to spread beyond the tapestry of who we felt we were destined to be.

I can't help but realize that I have been deeply unhappy for many years. The passion and the void, The obligated orgasms, the disappointing despair of a long that had long slipped through our fingers. It wasn't fair to you, but I never took the time I needed to be loved. There is nothing worse than the pillars you chain yourself to as the backbone of you penance, and baby, these pinnacles are piercing the heavens. Can I tear them down?

It's finally time to start taking agency in my own life, and my goodness Im doubling down on this hard. I can't help but worry that I won't land on my feet well, but I also wonder whether it's even worth the crisis of self worth. I know what I like, I know I can actually be happy with the world I've created and explored. I can have those vast deep conversations that rub the heartstrings in harmony. I can appreciate the suspended drops of dew amidst the the grass, the crystalline dessicated husks of life after the ice.

Despite all the shit, all the things that make you check under the bed at night, all the things that make you hope tomorrow never comes, I want to cut through my blackness, your darkness everyone's deep seated doubt. I want to hold your hand. And your hand (everyone gets a hand!). We're gonna step forward, not stand stationary, to experience this goddamn beautiful existence.

Take a look at the leaves and marvel at their immaculate perfection. Listen to the squabbled calls of the starlings, chirping and cawing a song from far away, made uniquely here. The log of a mighty oak, rotted and rooted, and even in its passing, life persists amidst it's decayed core, flourishing in uncountable denizens thankful for the shelter.

These chains of inadequacy, the tethers of doubt, this grip of a paralytic time will be shed, are being shed. Despite all this, I will rise and grow, even if it must be as an ephemeral amidst the concrete jungle. I will do good, we will do great, everyone will inspire and move

For if life has no meaning, that meaning is for us to define. The ties that bind and the joy that shines will carry us to the next season in this cycles of rebirth and decay. And in this next cycle, let's forge those chains, not that keep us tied down, but rather, tied together.

I miss this community, I miss every community left to rot, especially due not to our own actions. But rather the actions around us. Reach out. Find someone to talk to and tell them everything. It's the only way to get started in this next cycle. Much love from the Crunchy Granola Grandpa (TM).

#rambles #emotinal #neature #Crunchy granola grandpa

[ghost-like-pale]

fuckin' perv

info: some gross guy thinks you're his, sapnap thinks otherwise. 》 female clothing/anatomy, they/them pronouns 》 irl + romantic 》 1.4k words

warnings: (sexual) harassment and assault, physical fighting, hurt/comfort, swearing

a/n: ty for the support on my last piece ♡ please enjoy

this blog it meant as a way of coping with trauma/mental issues, please don't report it. if you don't want to see what i write, please just block me.

——♤——

the evening sun shone an orange glow over the city. the chatter of the citizens rang through the streets past all the tall buildings, the cars and taxis making their way to their patron's destinations and the smell of your favorite restaurants wafted past the pavement. you've grown up in the city, getting used to it, yet never getting bored.

all of these memories made you think about your boyfriend; he was a real country boy - born and raised in texas and everything. it never failed to bring a smile to your face whenever he pointed out a particularly tall office or a pretty neon 'open' sign.

something he's never been very fond of is the people. specifically older men. they always had a certain look on their face as you walked by, making him swing an arm around your hip or slipping a hand in your pocket. he's always been quite protective over his lover. you didn't mind, though.

—

there wasn't much time to reminisce on your loverboy right now - you were going to see him today! your car broke the day before, so with great displeasure you had to take the bus. you hated public transport. everyone was so close to each other, the air was stuffy and there was always someone to make you horribly uncomfortable.

you pulled your mask further over your nose when you reached the stop. the small space was bordered by plastic panels and a poster for some music event, nothing of interest. the sound coming from your earbuds made your foot tap the the rhythm until the bus finally emerged from the passing traffic.

the ride was peaceful, which made you strangely wary - like a calm moment before the storm. you didn't mind the busride being quiet, but the feeling never shook.

after waving at the busdriver and thanking him kindly, you hopped off the vehicle onto the concrete pavement. three other people walked out with you; and old couple, one holding a walker and a 20-something year old man. the clicking of his tongue grew impatient as he got stuck behind the couple. after a moment the two elders managed to get off the bus safely and the man could finally get to his stop.

you didn't pay them any mind, you wanted to see sapnap as soon as possible. you kept walking at a brisk pace, growing more exited with every step. after passing and crossing a few streets you started to feel uneasy. feeling eyes drilling right through your back, you rummaged in your bag and pulled out a small handheld mirror and lip gloss. as you were applying your gloss you glanced behind you, scanning the faces you could catch from within you peripheral vision.

you were surprised to see the impatient man from the bus stop a few feet behind you. now realizing the situation, you hastily stuff everything back into your bag and start walking again, this time quicker than before. the stabbing look didn't shake, however.

you were getting more anxious as it got darker and the crowds became scarce. the destination was on the edge of the city, where there was nothing other than small stores and the occasional crappy apartment building. the pavement was easy to see if you looked down; no polished dress shoes, no sneakers, no stilettos, nothing. just the occasional group of chatting teenagers passing by or an overworked retail worker walking home.

with every frantic step forward he seemed to get one step closer. the sound of your feet tapping on the floor came to a halt as you arrived at a crosswalk with a red light. the man hummed an unorganized tune and stood behind you and casually waited for the light to turn green. everytime you'd move, so would he. the brief moment waiting in front of the crosswalk felt like centuries.

—

ding. the pole emitted a bright green and you sighed in relief. you rushed over to the other side of the street, making sure not to hit someone on the way there. as you were moving along you suddenly felt a hand on your back, slowly gliding down over your-

"what are you doing?!"

the panic in your voice didn't phase the man, though he did take his hand off your lower half and placed it on your neck instead. he slowly backed you into a small alleyway while muttering a response.

"calm down, cutie. it's just a hand."

you slapped his hand off yourself, losing the hope you had when you realized you were the only one with him on this block.

"let me go, you creep!"

this response to his 'compliment' didn't please him; he harshly grabbed you by the roots of your hair and pushed you against the cold brick wall of a corner store.

"listen here, bitch. you're gonna listen to me real good, and you're gonna obey everything i tell you, understood?"

you whimpered in pain, shutting your eyes and tears dipping at your chin.

"understood?!"

with another yank at your hair you mewled and nodded hastily. this seemed to satisfy him.

"good. now, let's have some fun, shall we?"

his hand rested on your thigh and gradually made its way up, under your skirt until it hit your underwear. the other was around your wrists, holding them both with his larger hands to the side of your head. his feet trapped yours, putting his weight on your toes so you wouldn't kick him.

"ngh-!"

"heh, can't handle stimulation, can you? guess this will be more fun than i imagined- ugh!"

the man was knocked back harshly, the hand that connected with his face quickly retreating to the body it belonged to. sapnap. the man felt his jaw, there was blood dripping off his lip.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO THEM?!"

sapnap boomed in anger at the man. before he could even think of an answer he was hit again by the same hand. sapnap was now right next to you, him seeing your trembling figure in his peripheral vision. once he was sure that gross excuse of a person was going to stay down he turned to you.

his entire body language changed; his arms turning from tense limbs into a welcoming place to rest in, his chest forming into a warm pillow to fall into, his eyes from a slaughtering rage into a kind and sympathetic expression. your tears were already flowing as you sank into his embrace. he engulfed you completely, shielding you from everything and anyone, soothing the intense fear and horror you just experienced.

"you're okay now, baby. i got you, i got you."

his tone was smooth like honey, the words pulling you further in his secure clutch. the screaming must've attracted a few people, because before you knew it your hug was interrupted by him gently loosening his grasp and lowering his voice.

"we should get home, we don't want this hellhole to become a exhibition. here-"

he unwrapped his arms and pulled his grey hoodie over his head and handed the clothing article to you.

"wear this, baby."

you accepted his hoodie and threw it over your upper body. when you were finished sapnap grabbed your hand and guided you out the alleyway and turning a corner. his car was parked a little further.

"i wanted to give you a nice ride through the outer city, but i think you'd rather be home, am i right?"

you nodded. your face was stung by the wet streaks on your face with the cooling air hitting your features. you eventually reached the car, sapnap sitting down into the driver's position and you plopping down onto the passenger seat.

—

the soft revving of the car's engine made for a nice background noise as you drove over to sapnap's house. you reached the destination quicker than expected. time didn't feel like it was passing at this point.

your legs refused to move, even when sapnap opened the door for you. sapnap, understanding the situation, picked you up bridal-style and carried you and your bag out the vehicle.

—

your body was weak, both from the late hours of the night and your vivid memory of what happened about half an hour ago. the mattress sank next to you as you snuggled further under the covers. sapnap radiated warmth, making you move your body towards him and latching onto him like a koala.

"rest, angel. we'll talk about it in the morning."

his voice reverberated in his chest, the vibrations bringing you comfort. his hand found a good spot on the top of your head, lightly pushing it into him.

"good night, (y/n)."

you hummed as a response before passing out. sapnapchuckled at your cute resting face.

"sleep well, baby. you deserve it."

—

thank you for reading. please don't be too harsh on me, heh

masterlist

#dream smp x reader #dream smp x you #dream smp x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #sapnap x y/n #dream smp angst #mcyt angst #sapnap angst #dream smp fluff #mcyt fluff #sapnap fluff #dream smp fanfiction #mcyt fanfiction #sapnap fanfic #sapnap #tw swearing

[ack3rlady]

Third Time's A Charm

Summary: Nothing good ever came out of loving a warrior.

Warnings: Angst/Comfort, Reiner has suicidal tendencies post Paradis arc, Character death, SFW

A/N: This is my contribution to @jean-does-not-have-a-horseface's Ice Cold Hearts Collab.

WC: ~5.45k

Year 842

The sun shone brightly, beaming down on a pair of ecstatic teens running through the vast farmlands stretching as far as the eye could see. The melody of two hearty laughs filled the quiet, warm air. Lush blades of grass tickled your feet as you raced towards the distant maple tree, a treehouse perched atop it waiting for you to arrive. You turned around to get a better look at the boy following you, his blonde hair bouncing with every trot, hazel eyes pinned on your form and his lips stretched into the brightest smile as he trailed a short distance behind.

“Wait for me!”, he called out, extending his arm towards you.

You stuck your tongue out at him and cackled as you sped up, getting closer and closer to your destination. His eyes widened with glee when he noticed you finally slowing down upon reaching its base. He eventually caught up, breathless and sweaty, almost toppling over a root when he came to a sudden halt by your side. Just before his face could hit the ground, he felt your hand tightly clutch the back of his collar, breaking his fall. He steadied himself and got back on his feet, finally being able to get a good look at your face.

“You ought to be more careful, Reiner!”, you scolded, straightening his shirt with your features painted with worry. “You could’ve hurt yourself!”

He smiled with reticence, gazing at the most precious human in this world treating him as if he were a delicate flower. His heart fluttered every time you worried about him, every time you fussed over him. He couldn’t make sense of what it was trying to convey every time it skipped a beat when you were close. At all of twelve years old, he wasn’t wise enough to decipher the deep feelings that dwelled inside him for you. Your glimpses always plagued his mind, appearing before his eyes when he closed them and being all that he wished to see when they were open.

You were his motivation for achieving greatness as if he wanted to prove that no one could give you a happier and safer life. He couldn’t imagine living without you, the only bright ray of sunshine in the darkness that perpetually surrounded him. The only one who accepted all of him with open arms while the rest of the world fixated on his faults.

“Why are you here again?”, a flat voice broke the cheerful silence. Porco stood on the other side of the tree with his hands folded over his chest, appearing irked. A tense Bertholdt and Pieck were not far behind him while Annie was crouched over a patch of shrubs a short distance away. “We’ve been in enough trouble because of you. Why can’t you just leave us alone?”

“Shut your mouth, Pock!”, Reiner retorted. You could practically hear the anger bubbling inside his chest. His eyes dark, as if contemplating whether to physically hurt the button-nosed boy.

“Don’t you call me that!”

In a flash, the two were at each other’s throats with collars clutched in vice grips, blind punches and kicks being thrown, curses being exchanged. The tranquil farm suddenly turned into a chaotic battlefield with everyone rushing towards the two to separate them as Annie watched from afar. After toiling to peel the two off each other, it was Marcel who was finally able to subdue a delirious Porco with help from Pieck while Bertholdt and you held on to Reiner.

They dragged Porco away to the pond nearby where they were fishing earlier, and you and Reiner ascended to the treehouse. Deflated, you plopped down on a bale of hay, your gaze following the figure of the blonde boy as he paced around the cramped enclosure muttering incoherent words under his breath.

“Porco wasn’t wrong, you know?”, you despaired, twirling a strand of the golden grass between your fingers. “My father will be furious if he finds out I’m with you again. He’s already put you through a lot because of me.”

Reiner’s posture slumped when his eyes fell on your dejected ones. Your father, Theo Magath, was the commander of the Marleyan forces; a proud ‘pure blood’ who held a deep contempt towards Eldians. Many a time, he made his disapproval for your friendship with the warrior candidates perfectly clear to you, even labeled you a rebel for going against his wishes to mingle with them. But you paid him no heed, for they were the only friends you had growing up.

As a result, he’d aim his frustrations towards the poor group, brutalizing them with impossible training, and hosing them with humiliation and threats. He hoped that they would abandon you out of fear, and they did. Now, pretty much everyone but Reiner was cold towards you, except Pieck and Marcel who maintained at least some cordiality.

Reiner sat down by your side with a huff, perusing the concern on your face before following your gaze up to the tattered roof. His pocket felt heavy with the weight of the necklace that he bought for you with the allowance he received from the military for food, eager to see it adorn your neck. Sunlight poured inside through the gaps between the slats, highlighting little flecks of dust floating in the still air. A field of goosebumps erupted on the expanse of your skin when you felt the side of his hand graze yours. You gasped silently, your skin burning where his fingers brushed against yours.

Both hearts pounded in perfect synchrony as you played a staring game with the ceiling, coyly moving your hands to search for each other's again. Wandering fingers finally found their way to each other, intertwining gently at first, firming up eventually. Both your bodies went cold as if half your blood had gushed into your weaved arms and the other half to your cheeks. Your lips inadvertently upturned into a smile and you laboriously gulped down the lump in your throat. With hitched breath, you turned to look at him, both your faces stained with a bright shade of pink with the blush that had lit your cheeks on fire.

“Commander Magath won't hate me once I become a warrior.”, Reiner’s eyes finally found yours, initially shy; before a river of resolve washed over him. “I'll work hard to become one and also an honorary Marleyan. He will have no reason to loathe me then. My mother will be able to be with my father, and I will be able to marry you when we grow up. And once we’re married, we’ll live together in a house just like this one”, he whispered, looking around with a smile.

“You want to live on a tree when we’re married?”, you smirked.

“Uh- I didn’t mean that.”

Sounds of your giggles filled the air as you pointed at this flustered face and laughed, your gleeful voice like music to his ears. If it was the only sound that he could hear for the rest of his life, he would happily oblige. Warm sparks flew in his heart every time he was able to be the reason behind your joy. A smile slowly grew on his lips, beginning to mirror the grin on yours.

“I love you.”, he blurted out of nowhere.

The words escaped his lips before he even strung them together in his head. That’s what your presence did to him – made his mind, heart, and tongue race out of control. Reiner was almost starting to feel dizzy with his sudden declaration. Flustered, he rubbed the back of his neck, drawing random patterns on the ground below with the tip of his shoe.

He began to spiral as you continued to gape at him in bewilderment. Maybe it was all in his head. Maybe the innocent dream he had of building a life with you, marrying you in the presence of your families, living with you in a small cabin in the woods where he could come home to you every day, was one-sided.

“Really?”, you asked quietly.

Hopelessly lost in your doe eyes, it took a few moments for Reiner to register your question. He nodded vigorously, still waiting for you to respond. The dread on his face began to thaw when you gently squeezed his fingers that were still interlaced with yours from earlier. His heart thumped when your parted lips upturned into a smile that slowly found its way onto his own.

“Reiner, I...”

“Get your filthy hands off my daughter, you Eldian devil!”, your father bellowed.

Both your necks darted towards him standing near the entryway with a menacing scowl on this face and a gun pointed in your direction. You quickly stood up, unable to look directly at the frenzied man. In a flash, the silken petals of the roses blooming in your heart, disappeared; leaving behind just the thorns. How did he find out? You had been so careful, after having meticulously planned all the excuses for him to let you leave the house for a few hours.

When you did manage to make eye contact, one jolt of his head had you sauntering towards him, disappearing into his shadow. Your guts wrenched with helplessness as you stood far away from Reiner, who was now alone on the opposite side of the room. Your previously warm hand felt ice-cold and empty without his fingers in between yours. He shot his commander a weak salute that went completely ignored.

“If the military hadn’t invested so much time and money on worthless garbage like you, I would have shot you down here and now. And I will not hesitate to do it if I see you anywhere near my daughter again, you scum!”, he kept his musket aimed at the trembling boy.

“And you.”, he turned to face you, “I tried to be lenient. But you just won’t learn, will you? You’re going far, far away from here where you will never have the chance to see these nasty beings again.”

Reiner was paralyzed whilst your father dragged your kicking, screaming, and wailing form away, no amount of begging even beginning to soften his stone heart. He watched from the window, scalding tears filling his eyes as the furious man threw you over his horse and the two of you disappeared into the distance.

He didn’t see you for three whole years after. The young, naïve boy you knew and grew up with had since inherited the Armored Titan and achieved the biggest dream he had. And yet, happiness was nowhere to be found. His father still didn’t want anything to do with him. His mother still lived in agony. He still failed to attain the respect he thought the warriorship would bring. And the one face that could soothe his anguish was nowhere to be seen.

Commander Magath had made sure to keep your whereabouts a guarded secret. Reiner spent every moment since that day on the farm in hopes of finding you, but to no avail. The commander was an astute man, ensuring that the boy he didn't perceive to be worth even the dirt under your shoes, would never come face to face with you again. But there was another person who was always a few steps ahead.

Zeke.

Maybe Reiner’s perpetual sullenness had sprouted a shred of sympathy in his heart, or maybe he was just making sure that he continued to have the upper hand in their dynamic. But Reiner couldn’t care less about what Zeke’s intentions were when the shrewd man approached him just one day before he was to depart for Paradis Island with information on your location. He had found out that you were living in Namtso, a city on the other side of Marley where you were said to be studying medicine.

That same evening, you were aghast to find Pieck at the doorstep of your dormitory, holding an envelope out in front of you. It contained a necklace, a golden heart being held by a delicate chain that you promptly wore around your neck, and a note. Although only a cluster of three words was scribbled on it, you shed many tears of joy, clutching the puny piece of parchment close to your heart.

"Wait for me

- R"

.

Year 850

Luminous flames danced before him, barely warming up his body that was as cold as ice. The night had been brutal, unforgiving with its chill that was making his bones ache. A yellow glow cast by the bonfire on the young man made his blonde hair, pale skin and honey eyes seem like they were molded out of pure gold. He sat shriveled up in a fetal position, his knees close to his chest being held tight by trembling arms. Annie, Bertholdt, and Marcel sat in front of him surrounding the fire, all staring into the brilliant blaze.

It was quiet. A bit too quiet.

Shouldn’t there be some kind of sound? He was in a forest, for God’s sake. Maybe the chirps of crickets or a flock of birds, the rustle of leaves? Even the crackling of the burning wood, which was just mere feet away from him was muted. The lull was haunting and made him restless. Reiner could’ve sworn that he had lost his hearing, surrounded by a deathly silence and sharp ringing in his ears. He rubbed his fingers over his ears, frantically trying to pick up on the faintest of sounds. His gaze darted between his comrades in an attempt to deduce whether they too were going through what he was.

Just when he was about to open his mouth to ask, Marcel’s eyes shifted towards him, the smile on his kind face vanishing. “I died protecting you, and yet you failed.”, he said before standing up and beginning to walk towards the fire. Finally, a sound. But this? Reiner tried to scream, call out to him, stop him from entering the flames; but his throat stung with the intensity of many shards of glass scraping against it. All that came out of his desperate mouth were puffs of air.

Marcel became one with the light and all that remained was ash floating through the still air. It was Annie who stood up next. “I was captured because you failed.”, she enunciated, her voice as flat as her expression. And with that, she followed Marcel into the blaze, giving rise to yet another thick, grey cloud of ash.

And then, there were two.

Reiner already knew what was about to happen, a steady stream of tears glimmering on his face in the light of the fire. Bertholdt rose from his spot, looking at the whimpering blonde boy as if he was the most pathetic creature to ever exist. “You failed even after I sacrificed myself for you.”, he puled, not breaking his gaze whilst walking towards the smoldering fire. Another veil of smoke rose, this time constricting Reiner’s breath. He gasped for air, eyes blown in panic, hands reaching out for his friends, his stifled cries fading away amidst a cloak of soot.

That’s when he saw them at a distance. Those eyes – terrified, begging, pleading, pooling with tears. Yours. He heard your voice, crying for father to stop dragging you away.

“Why didn’t you stop him, Reiner?”, you looked directly at the frozen wreckage of a man sitting by the remnants of the dying flames, the misery in your eyes hardening into fury. “Why did you let me go?”, you screeched.

Reiner jolted awake, reaching his arm out into the darkness. His breathing was haggard, hair a mess, clothes clinging to his skin with sweat. He was still dumbfounded, struggling to draw even the faintest sound out of his throat. The blackness of the room made his pounding heart feel like it was going to hurtle out of his chest.

“Reiner!”, he heard a voice worriedly call out to him. “Hey, Reiner. Calm own. It's me. You’re safe now... Reiner? Are you okay?”

He heard the strike of a match. The minuscule yet radiant flame revealed before him, a face. The same face he had yearned for, for the past eight years. The same one that came to his mind the moment he opened his eyes every morning, and the one he thought of before sleep took over, carrying it with him to his dreams.

You stroked his cheek, brushing away a wet trail of tears, and placed the candle on the nightstand. Sitting down on the edge of the bed where he lay, you whispered words of affirmation into his ears, guiding him to catch his breath till they slowed back down to normal.

“Where... am I? What - What are you... doing here?”, he croaked, blinking profusely to orient himself with the alien room.

“Zeke and Pieck brought you home. I’m your doctor and am making sure that you’re healing well.”, you brought a glass of water to his lips, eyeing the steam that rose from various parts of his body.

“Commander Magath?”

“I think I’m old enough to make my own decisions now, Reiner.”, you smiled, but the melancholy lacing your features was crystal even in the dim luminescence of the lone candle. “Well, we don’t talk anymore. I haven't spoken to him since he sent me away to Namtso.”

Silence descended between the two of you. It was something that you were both quite comfortable with before, but it made you uneasy today. You were seeing him for the first time after your father dragged you away from that treehouse and after Reiner was sent away to Paradis Island on a mission to reclaim the Founding Titan, a mission that the warriors had miserably failed.

His expression contorted into a grimace when the memory of what happened there rushed back into his mind. The few seconds of oblivion after regaining consciousness were painfully snatched away. He had lost everybody. Marcel, Bertholdt, and Annie were all gone, only for him to return home safely. What did he do to deserve this? All he ever did was step on others for his own benefit. He didn’t deserve the comfort of lying in a bed back home, while two of his friends were dead and one captured, to be looked after by the woman he loved after massacring hundreds and thousands of innocent lives.

“Reiner?”, he jumped when you set your hand on his shoulder. “What are you thinking about?”

His eyes burnt holes into the ceiling. How was he supposed to put into words, the pandemonium that had enraptured his mind? That he couldn’t recognize himself anymore? That he could barely recognize you? That the guilt of having caused a barrage of death and destruction was crushing every bit of his soul? That being a warrior was nowhere close to as glorious as he had imagined? That he felt like an intruder in his own body?

“I shouldn’t be here.”, was all he could manage to say to summarize how he felt. The sound was more air than voice, “I shouldn’t have survived this; I shouldn’t have come back home.”

“Reiner.”, your voice quivered, finally convincing him to look not at the ceiling, but back at you. “Don’t say that. Please! I can’t fathom what you had to go through. But I prayed for you to come home safely for every single moment of the last five years. I waited, Reiner, just like you asked me to.”

“You did?”, he breathed. Tears were beginning to cascade down his temples as he lay, trembling, in bed. “But- But I don’t deserve it. I’m a horrible person. You should have found someone else, someone better than me.”

“No!”, you urged. “Don’t say that! I waited for you, I counted each and every second till you returned just so that I could tell you what I couldn’t the last time we were together... Reiner, I – I love-”

“Stop!”, he placed a hand on your lips to prevent you from uttering the words he didn’t deserve to hear from you or anyone else. His voice was barely audible, “Don’t. I’m not worthy.”

“But-”

“Just leave. And forget about me.”

Reiner's hands ached to wipe the string of warm pearls gushing down your face. The little boy who took pride in being the cause of your smile was now a despicable man who was the reason behind your anguish. How he wished to engulf you into his arms, rest your head against his chest and tell you that he loved you more than life itself, that whatever little meaning his existence held was because of you, that his only reason to continue breathing was you.

Instead, he turned around to lie with his back towards you, clearly hearing your heart shatter with the painful gasp that left your lips. He held himself back when he heard you call out to him one last time, your voice softer than a mere breeze. He only let his walls break when he heard the click of the door, shifting once more to make sure you were indeed gone. He wept woefully, holding his knees close to his chest, rocking himself gently in search of comfort that he would never find.

.

Year 854

Hazel eyes were glued to the ground as he walked, mesmerized by the cadenced patterns that the pavers made in unison with the mortar holding them together. He only looked up to ensure that he didn’t accidentally bump into anybody, in turn inviting a slew of nasty words from them. Even holding the Armored Titan didn’t stop the Marleyans from spewing hate at ‘his kind’. It was something Reiner was accustomed to by now, since it was all that, he received growing up.

The red band on his bicep, which he toiled for every single day of his life, stood for nothing but everything abhorrent in this world. He lost his comrades, pushed you away, his mother still cried herself to sleep every night, he had no idea if his father was still alive, and now, the people who he had unintentionally grown attached to, an entire civilization of Eldians within the walls across the ocean, was out for his blood. And worst of all, he despised his own existence.

Every moment that Reiner’s mind found him alone, it would race away to places of torment, constantly reminding him of what a failure he was, how the world would be a better place if he was never born. He dwelled in an inferno where he burned alive for every second of every day in the memories of all the people that he wronged.

He blindly followed a zealous Gabi, being held back by a distressed Falco, Udo, and Zofia through the thronging streets of Marley’s main market, until he was torn from his thoughts by all four of them screaming in unison, a name he recognized far too well.

Yours.

His eyes shot up from the ground, a muted gasp leaving his lips at your sight. You cheerfully greeted the kids with the two girls wrapped around your waist and the boys shyly saying hello. You looked a thousand times more beautiful than he remembered, your features having matured immaculately. Reiner was mesmerized by your swaying hair that was now much longer than the last time you met, the smile on your face which was now unknowingly mirroring on his own, the way your pastel skirt fluidly blew with the breeze, and the sound of your voice that was like cold water for his parched ears. The only feature of yours that hadn't changed was the twinkle in your eye, still reminiscent of the lively girl he grew up with.

He was so lost that his mind didn’t even register you looking back at him. Except, yours was a look of concern, rather than of amazement. He looked almost weak like he had lost a substantial amount of weight since he returned to Marley. Had he not been eating well? His cheekbones were prominent, as were the deep lines on his forehead. His eyes, despite holding the same golden shine, looked tired, and you knew better than to ask.

“Uh - We’ll walk with Porco and Pieck. Meanwhile, you two can catch up!”, the string of your gazes broke when Falco awkwardly squeaked. Reiner furrowed his brows questioningly. How did he know? “Colt talks a lot when he drinks!”, the boy smiled, rubbing the back of his neck.

He joined the others in walking a few steps ahead of you, browsing through the many stalls of food, games, and knick-knacks. The two of you strolled side by side, your shoulders often bumping into each other, occasional glances being exchanged, but neither of you attempting to break the silence.

“How have you been?”, he finally asked a short eternity later.

“Been better. You?”

“Me too.”

Porco’s and Pieck’s appetites were soaring today, with the kids’ not lagging far behind. They stopped at every other stall, dining on the delicacies cooked by vendors who had traveled to Liberio from all over the country. Reiner paid for their food every time, but didn’t eat anything himself. Three stalls later, you still walked in silence, not another word uttered since your brief exchange. He took a deep breath to prepare himself to talk, but couldn’t muster up the courage since hadn’t forgotten how he treated you the last time he met you; or how you had run out of the infirmary room in tears, never to be seen or heard from again for four years until today.

His heart skipped a beat when he caught you walking away from the corner of his eye. Maybe you had only kept him company for Falco’s sake. Maybe you didn’t want to see or talk to him, but that is what he asked for, right? Did you really hate him now? The girl who used to be such a big part of his life was now a complete stranger. Too repulsed by him to even walk by his side. Too disgusted to initiate a conversation.

The lines between his brows began to deepen as his mind started to spiral out of control until a hand holding out a stick of bright pink candy-floss entered his line of vision. He visibly jumped and stopped in his tracks, gaping at you with wide eyes. You brought him his favorite snack from a stall you often visited together as kids, blowing up both your allowances on the delightful, sweet snack.

“You haven't eaten anything all evening.”, you said, jolting your arm once more to divert his attention from your face to the sugary cloud which he swiftly took from you. You entered an alley between two buildings and sat down on an empty barrel, a little pocket of peace not far off from the chaotic market. The flutter in his heart crept up to his lips, bringing a slight curve to them as he took the first bite.

“You remembered?”, he asked.

“Obviously.”, you blushed. “How could I forget? You used to practically inhale three of these in a matter of seconds.”

He noticed the golden heart adorning your neck. You watched throngs of people go by, a sheepish smile on both your faces after the return of the familiar warmth in between you. Just like old times, he passed the stick to you and you plucked out a generous tuft of the cottony candy before shoving it into your mouth. His eyes continued to rest on the view of the glimmering jewelry around your neck, the one he bought for you many years ago. You still wore it.

“After all this time?”, he asked, silently gesturing towards it when you looked at him in confusion.

“Like I told you the last time we met; I waited for you, just like you asked me to.”, you sighed.

“Even after what I said to you then?”

“You think I blame you for saying that to me, hours after returning from a five-year-long traumatizing mission?”, you scolded. “I’ve waited for you for twelve years. That’s half of our lives. It’s only you for me, Reiner. There can never be anyone else. So, I’ll wait for twelve more if I have to.”

“Good thing I don’t have that long remaining.”, he smirked, earning himself a slap on the shoulder from you.

“I know that, you jerk.”, you grumbled. Your posture visibly slumped with the bitter truth having been spelled out directly, “But- we’ve lost so much time, Reiner. Time that we could have spent happily together if the world hadn't driven us apart. I have felt this way since we were kids, and I still do. I love-”

“But - “

“Damn it, Reiner, I will lose my mind if I don’t get to say it this time.”, the generally poised woman he had known was nowhere to be found as you glared at him with large eyes and flared nostrils. “I love you, okay? And I know that you’re going through hell. But I will walk down that path with you with my hand in yours if that makes you feel even a little bit stronger. Just don’t push me away again. Because I will claw my way back to you like I always do. I've done it before, Reiner Braun. And I'll do it again. Because I love you. I fucking love -”

This time, you happily welcomed being interrupted when he slammed his lips onto yours. Your heart stopped in your chest when you felt him this close to you for the first ever time. Warm tears fell from his eyes onto your cheeks as he chanted, I love you’s and I’m sorry’s against your lips, never once breaking contact. It was all you ever wished for, all you ever needed, everything that you had yearned for. Not even in your dreams did you think this moment would be this magical – the feeling of having your face cupped in his strong hands, of his breath fanning over your skin, of his lips moving in perfect sync with yours, all the pent-up feelings being expressed all at once as you wept in each other’s embrace, invisible to everyone else.

“Promise you’ll never let me go again?”, you sobbed, resting your forehead against his.

“I promise.”

.

Year 855

The sun shone brightly, beaming down on a lone man walking through the vast farmlands stretching as far as the eye could see. Nothing but silence filled the warm air, occasionally interrupted by the whinnies of horses grazing nearby. Lush blades of grass tickled his feet as he inched towards the distant maple tree, a treehouse perched atop it waiting for him to arrive. He looked to his side, hoping to find that same girl who took this route with him many times in the past, only to be greeted by more open land, devoid of her presence.

It had been one year since the Liberio festival. One year since you told him that you loved him for the first and the last time. One year since the day he lost you to the explosion that resulted from Eren’s transformation.

This was the first time that he visited this place after the day he had expressed his own love for you as a naïve young boy. He climbed up the ladder, that still hung from the same branch as thirteen years ago, and entered the dilapidated treehouse. Everything looked the same, apart from the thick layer of dust covering every inch of the dimly lit room.

Reiner walked across the space, glazing over everything you once touched. Every corner brought back an old memory, sounds of your giggles echoing in his mind when his gaze fell on the hay bale. He sat exactly where he remembered sitting the last time, leaning against the wall to look up at the tattered roof. Sunlight still poured in through the gaps in between the slats, highlighting little flecks of dust floating in the stagnant air. But the spot beside him that was once occupied by someone who meant the world to him, now lay cold and vacated.

“We should have never left this treehouse.”, he whispered, gingerly brushing his hand over the patch of dried grass to his side.

He turned back to look up at the light cascading down on his face through the crevices, painting him in a glorious golden hue. Silvery streaks of precious tears made their way down his cheek with nobody to wipe them this time.

“Wait for me.”, he called out, extending his arm towards the bright light, the only thing reminiscent of your missing warmth.

#reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #reiner braun #reiner angst #reiner braun x you #reiner x you #aot x reader #aot fic #aot angst #snk x reader #snk fic #snk angst #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #tw: suicidal tendencies

[ao3komorii]

The Silver Path (Spirit Blossom Thresh/Reader)

It is finally here! Just a note for people who played the spirit blossom event, I’ve decided to make Thresh more subdued/shy than he was in that event. Sort of a “what if instead of holding a grudge against Ahri after their conflict, he just got sad.” Nevertheless, hope you enjoy! Just as a note, there is smut at the end :)

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Checking one final time that you hadn’t forgotten anything, you folded the cloth over the carefully-packed items before picking up the woven basket. You could not risk forgetting even one tribute, as angering even one spirit would spell doom for the village; your grandmother had stressed that very severely when she had trained you. Leaving your home, you couldn’t help but feel nervous, even if this wasn’t the first time that you had made this trip.

You had been the village’s spirit guardian for six months now, ever since your grandmother had passed away. You hadn’t felt ready when the role had been passed to you, but you had no choice. It was probably for the better that you had no choice but to step into the role, since you doubted that you would ever feel truly ready for the responsibility that was now yours.

Mount Targon was tall, the tallest mountain in Runeterra by far, and also the most treacherous. Travelers came from places near and far to ascend to the peak, having heard of the mystic mountain that promised to open the heavens before any mortal that successfully made it to the top.

Many tried, and many failed, their bodies destined to never leave the mountain where their bodies had given out. The upper reaches of the mountain were unlivable, and nearly unclimbable, fraught with winds and storms and plagued by avalanches. The display of cosmic radiance offered by the peak would not be easily attained, and yet people would never stop trying.

Despite living far below the mountain’s peak in a small valley to the south, you were still not safe from its wrath. You had never experienced it yourself, but long ago, even the lower parts of the mountain had been uninhabitable. The area had been plagued by rockslides and inhabited by vicious animals, but the patience and determination of your ancestors had won out in the end.

It had all started when an ancestor of yours had climbed the mountain path in search of a way to make the land livable, but had instead found a door. On the other side of the door, they had discovered a passage to the world of spirits, and had bowed low, begging for their protection. In exchange, the spirits asked for a tithe to be paid every month when the moon was at its highest in the sky.

And since then, once a month a representative of the village would walk the spirit path to bring each spirit a gift, and in turn, your village would be protected. The responsibility had been passed down through your family, and as you were the last one of your family left after your grandmother had died, the task now fell to you.

There were ten spirits in all, and each had their own tastes. Your grandmother would never tell you what she brought them, insisting that you would have to develop your own relationship with the spirits by learning their preferences on your own. You had been terrified the first time you had walked the spirit path, leaving small trinkets you had knitted for the spirits, but to your great relief, no boulders or storms had struck your village in the days after. When you had returned the next month, some spirits had taken your gifts, and some had not, so you knew to bring a different gift to those pedestals the next month.

While you had never seen the spirits, you began to get a sense of what they liked; the spirit of the snake altar liked jewels and other shiny objects, the mushroom altar spirit liked small toys, and the antler altar spirit liked vegetables. Most of the spirits would accept whatever you brought, but a select few hadn’t accepted any yet, which had been a frustrating experience for you. But they hadn’t revoked their protection, so you assumed that they were willing to be patient with you until you presented them with something they liked.

Keeping your head down as you passed by the other residents of the village, you made your way to the base of the mountain. As you ascended the gentle incline, you went over the all-important rules in your head; enter no earlier than ten at night, and leave no later than midnight. The spirit gate was only open for two hours each month, and if you didn’t leave in time, you would be trapped in the spirit world for a month until the gate reopened. It had only happened a few times in the long history of your people’s time here, but nobody who had gotten stuck in the spirit realm had ever returned, which was more than enough of a deterrent for you.

You paused as you approached the spirit gate; you were a few minutes early, as was your usual routine, so now there was nothing to do but wait for the gate to open itself up to you. You could only hope that at least one of your previously-rejected gifts had been accepted this time, but the spirits could be finicky.

As you stared at the metal archway that made up the gate to the spirit world, the open space of the archway began to glow. The glow got more and more solid, and soon you were standing in front of a swirling door; pinks, blues and purples flowed around each other, making the doorway almost look like the surface of a mystical lake. As you stepped into the magical doorway, you reminded yourself again of the last rule, be out by midnight. You had done this before, you could do it again.

As always, you found yourself standing at the start of a path made of silver light. You stared out at the colorful forest that now surrounded you, the silver path winding around the cherry blossom trees as it led towards the shrines of the spirits. As you began to walk forward, basket of tokens in hand, you kept your focus on the path ahead.

Your grandmother had stressed that you were never to leave the path, no matter the circumstance. The path kept you on track, and more importantly, unseen.

The spirits were not the only ones to inhabit this world; while this was a place for spirits, it was also inhabited by azakana, the race of demon spirits that fed on human suffering. You had never seen the spirit deities, but you had on occasion caught sight of dark shapes moving around the trees, the shadows alone sending shivers along your skin.

While you were on the path, they could not see you, and they could not touch you. You had heard too many stories about azakana as a child from your grandmother; stories of azakana ripping people apart, swallowing them whole… you had heard more than enough to do everything you could to avoid contact with the vicious creatures. Part of you wondered if that was what had happened to the spirit guardians who never returned, but you tried not to dwell on it. You could think about the dangers of the azakana when you were safely back in your village.

Trying to calm your mind, you took the opportunity to admire the scenery as you walked along the path. Even as dark as it was, the light pink trees were undeniably beautiful, the petals that fell around the path creating a scene that looked straight out of a painting.

The forest was dense with trees, but your path remained clear of even petals or dirt, the silver under your feet glowing with celestial light. You took notice of small animals as they roamed the forest, your attention focussing in on an unnaturally-colored fox as it walked along the thick root of a tree before disappearing from sight. While you couldn’t help but want to observe the unique landscape of the spirit realm, you did not stop walking. Your time here was finite, and you knew that you could not afford to get caught up in the beauty of this place, not unless you wanted this forest to be your tomb come midnight if you did not leave on time.

As the trees began to thin out, you caught sight of the short wooden bridge that would take you across the river and to the first of the spirit temples. You approached the shrine to find it empty, as it always was, absent of even the small animals that roamed the forest.

You had been by here six times before, long enough for you to feel at least somewhat comfortable navigating your way around. The silver path led you right up to a purple pedestal decorated with a vibrant snake made of gems that were deeply embedded in the stone of the podium. Coming to a stop at last, you opened up your basket with a small smile; at least the snake spirit was easy to choose gifts for.

Reaching into the basket, you pulled out a small brooch in the shape of a tied ribbon. It was made of pure silver and dotted with brightly-shining gems. You had spent a while selecting it, so you hoped that the spirit would accept it. The bracelet you had left last time had been taken, which gave you a nice burst of confidence. You could only hope that the rest of your gifts from last month had been accepted as well.

Placing the brooch in the center of the pedestal, right on top of the jeweled snake’s body, you closed the basket, turning to continue on the path. You had nine more shrines to visit after all, and a restrictive window of time.

If you remembered correctly, the next shrine was the one with twin swords carved into its pedestal. One of the tough ones. Not one of the gifts you had left there had been accepted. With no other option, you were left to keep guessing, bringing a different thing each time in hopes it would be accepted.

As you approached the simple stone pedestal, you were surprised to see it empty. Your excitement quickening your steps, you hurriedly approached the temple, heart soaring as you looked down at the twin blades carved into the ancient-looking stone.

You stared at the simple carving, willing yourself to remember what it was you had brought last time. After a moment of thought, you recalled placing a simple wooden flute on the pedestal, more out of desperation than anything. You weren’t sure what about the flute the spirit was interested in, but you were relieved that one of the more picky spirits had accepted one of your gifts at last.

Reaching into your basket, you pulled out a delicately-carved wooden bird. Hopefully the fussy spirit would like the bird, but even if you came back next month to a rejection, you knew now that the spirit had an interest in musical instruments. You were starting to see what your grandmother had meant when she had said you would come to get an understanding of each spirit’s personality, even if you still had yet to have all of the spirits accept a gift from you.

After placing the wooden bird on the pedestal, you bid farewell to the shrine, walking towards the slender purple trees that denoted the next spirit’s domain. This spirit had the most unusual symbol – a horned mask that was reminiscent of a demon. You had no idea what the spirits actually looked like, but had no desire to meet the spirit of this shrine, afraid that their symbol denoted a demonic personality as well.

It didn’t help that the forest that led to his shrine was impossibly dark and dense. Unlike the domains of the other spirits, you had never seen an animal in this forest, just dark trees that loomed over you with branches like forked lightning, blocking much of the already-dark sky overhead.

Despite the scary appearance of this spirit’s domain, they had accepted all of the gifts that you had brought so far. As scary as this place was, you were relieved that you likely didn’t have to worry about this particular spirit taking their wrath out on you or your people for a lack of gifts they deemed acceptable.

After a few minutes of walking, the darkly-colored temple of the demon mask spirit finally began to show through the trees. You continued to walk towards the temple, eyes focussed on the small building’s sloping roof, when you were stopped by a tug on your long ceremonial skirt.

Turning back, you found one side of your skirt caught on a thorned branch that ran along the ground. With an annoyed sigh, you pulled gently at your skirt, wanting to avoid ripping your skirt in the process of disengaging yourself from the vine.

You felt annoyance rise up in you when your gentle tugs did nothing to free you, your skirt still firmly ensnared by the thorns. You sighed; you really didn’t have time for this, not with how many more temples you still had to visit.

Putting down your basket, you took hold of your skirt with both hands and gave it a harsh tug, resolving to just repair the skirt later if it ripped. When one hard pull failed to free you, you began to yank repeatedly at the fabric, knowing that it would be a bad idea to reach your hand outside of the path to grab the vine itself.

After at least a minute of pulling on your skirt, you were getting desperate. The skirt’s material was too tough to rip easily, and you didn’t have a knife on you to tear it with. The only weapon you had on you was a small stone ball wrapped in a prayer scroll, an old weapon used to scare off azakana that your grandmother had said you must always have on you while in the spirit realm. You had thought it was silly, but she had insisted, despite never encountering an azakana herself even though she had been the spirit guardian for so much of her life.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you resolved to give it one last try, and then you would have to just take off the skirt. As unhappy as you would be to do the rest of the walk with just underwear and shoes on your lower half, getting stuck in this place would be infinitely worse.

Both hands gripping onto your skirt, you took a deep breath as you braced yourself, and then pulled hard. Unlike the past few minutes, this time your skirt was dislodged immediately, as if it had never been stuck in the first place.

You had expected a fight of it, and had yanked on your skirt so hard that it coming free easily threw you entirely off balance. The long skirt did you no favors as you stumbled on it, trying to right your balance, but the fabric won out in the end as you stumbled back into your forgotten basket, causing you to trip and fall backwards with a surprised yell.

You closed your eyes reflexively as you fell backwards, your back immediately uncomfortable as you fell back against what felt like a large tree root. But the stinging of your back was nothing compared to the explosion of sound and sight you experienced as you opened your eyes.

The spirit realm had always been silent and still, but now it was anything but. The previously-quiet skies were now filled with the most horrifying creatures you had ever seen, demonlike bodies twisting in the skies as they let out inhuman screeches and growls. The trees too were infested by many-limbed azakana, their claws digging into the bark of the trees. Eyes wide with terror, you were confused as to why this was happening all of a sudden… at least until your eyes focussed in on the silver path just ahead of you.

You shot up with a gasp. You had fallen off the path, broken one of the only rules your grandmother had set for you, and now you were seeing why it was so important.

You had to get back there before any of them saw you. If you attracted the attention of even one of these demons, you were dead for sure.

Your skirt still tripping you up, you scrambled forward on your hands and knees, desperate to get yourself the few feet it would take to get back onto the silver path. Your fear began to morph into relief as your hand reached the path, followed by the rest of your upper body. You quickly made to crawl the rest of the way back onto the path, glad to have the momentary terror behind you, when you were startled by a painfully tight grip on your ankle.

Before you could react, you were yanked backwards, your attempts at gripping onto the ground futile as you were suddenly thrown back in the air. You landed harshly on the ground, the wind knocked out of you, whole body burning with pain.

Sitting up with a groan, you flattened your back against a tree in fear as you took in the approaching form of the most horrifying creature you had ever seen.

It had the body of a worm, but it was at least fifty feet long and twice your width. It loomed over you, its giant body writhing with excitement that was plain on its face. While its body was that of a worm, it had the face of a demon. Wide yellow eyes, pupilless and oversized for its face stared you down, its jaws open wide, teeth as long as your fingers gleaming even in the dark. Its face was blood red, nose two slits on its face while several horns protruded from the crown of its head.

Looking around, you realized that you had nowhere to run. With a tree at your back and this thing’s massive body blocking the way back to the path, you were trapped. Eyes darting around, you tried to find something, anything that would help you, but all you could see were the dark trees; that, and the azakana around you had all stopped their screeching to stare hungrily at the scene before them.

As you were desperately pondering a way out of this situation, the giant worm began to close in on you, eager to claim its prey. As you squirmed against the tree, a small thump against your thigh reminded you of the protection stone you had sitting in your skirt’s pocket. If you threw it at the creature, it could give you enough time to escape back to the path and get yourself out of this nightmare.

You reached quickly into your pocket, but the movement seemed to spurn the azakana into action as well as it quickly darted towards you. You managed to throw the stone, but cried out in pain as one of the demon’s horns impaled your shoulder at the same time.

Upon hitting the creature, the stone broke apart into silver smoke that quickly filled the area. The azakana jerked back with a shriek as soon as the smoke hit it, fleeing as fast as it could. Its cries of agony were not the only ones to pierce the air; the smoke quickly spread around the forest, causing the rest of the azakana to flee when it came near them. Soon their cries faded and you were left alone and bleeding, vision obscured by the thick smoke.

You clutched your shoulder, your fingers becoming quickly soaked by your own blood as you gritted your teeth from the pain. You braced yourself against the tree, slowly standing up, keeping a hand pressed to your still-bleeding wound. You desperately tried to seek out the path with your eyes, but you were feeling increasingly dizzy the more blood you lost.

Your vision was growing shakier by the second as you pushed yourself off the tree, stumbling in what you believed to be the direction of the path. Every step felt like a mile as you slowly shuffled forward, but you forced your body onward; in your current state, you knew that you were dead if you stopped moving. Your best bet would be to turn back and leave the way you had come in. You would have to bring the other spirits two gifts next time to make up for the empty pedestals they would find tomorrow and hope they would not take their anger at your failure out on your village.

It was hard to pick out a silver path in the midst of the silver fog, but you nearly cried with relief when you spotted the familiar otherworldly silver light peeking through the smoke. You dragged yourself the last bit of the way, strength failing you, and collapsed as soon as you were back in the safety of the path again.

You whimpered, clutching your shoulder as you tried to ignore the searing pain. Looking down, you found your formerly-white shirt red with blood, the material sticking uncomfortably to your skin. You were finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than the pain, never having dealt with a wound this extreme before.

Letting out a sob as the strain it caused your wound, you forced yourself to your feet again. It was hard to see with all the smoke in your way, but you had to keep moving or you would bleed out long before the azakana would get another shot at you.

Your vision was now so blurry that you felt like you were dreaming, but you pressed onward, following the light of the silver path. If you hurried, you could make it back in time to find a healer, because you knew that you would die without help.

It felt like you had been walking for an hour when the fog that surrounded you had finally cleared, but when it did, you felt like crying. Instead of the two-bladed spirit’s temple, you found yourself staring at the familiar temple of the demon mask spirit. You took a few more stunned steps before collapsing beside the spirit’s pedestal. You had gone the wrong way.

You closed your eyes, not wanting to look at the temple that signalled your own incompetence, or at your blood staining the grass beneath you. This was it; your spirit had become as broken as your body, leaving you with no more strength to move or even open your eyes. You would die here, so far from home and in incredible pain. You could only hope as your consciousness drifted away that you had not doomed your village as well.

 You woke up feeling slightly cold, as if your window had been left open on a chilly night. You kept your eyes closed for another minute, waiting for the aching in your head to fade, finally opening them when your head had stopped pounding.

You weren’t dead, but you didn’t know where you were. The room that you now found yourself in was large, but lacking any furniture other than the futon bed you were laying in. The wall was patterned with a mountain scene that had you transfixed, at least until you realized that you were able to move your shoulder without any pain.

Hurriedly sitting up, you turned to look at your shoulder, seeing a large hole in your shirt, but no gaping wound. The blood that had soaked your clothes was now dry, the only evidence that you had bled at all the stains that covered your clothing. You touched the area where the wound had been, still unable to believe that it had vanished, before you remembered the events that had led up to the wound being inflicted on you.

Had someone found you and brought you back to the village? You weren’t in your home, you knew that much for sure. You had never seen these walls before, not a single note of recognition coming to you as you got up from the futon and began to look around the room.

Seeing no clues, you decided to leave the room. If someone had rescued you, then you needed to thank them. And as much as you didn’t want to, you had to explain what had happened to the village elders. This had been your mistake, and you couldn’t hide from it, not when it concerned the safety of the village.

Leaving the room, you found yourself in an empty hallway. The room that you had been in was the last one in the hallway, so there was only one direction for you to go. You passed a few doors on your way down the hall, but they were all closed, and you didn’t want to intrude on your rescuer’s privacy after they had rescued you from certain death, so you left them be.

“Hello?” you called out when you turned from the hallway into a small entrance room, slightly disappointed to find it empty as well. Where was the owner of the home?

At least this room was less barren, so you took the time to wander around the room and take a look at things while you gave the person some time to return before you headed home.

While there was no furniture in this room either, your gaze was drawn to the lanterns that were hung from the ceiling of the room. They were hung a bit too high for you to reach, so you had to settle for staring at one from below. Even with the height difference, you could tell that they had an odd glow to them that you couldn’t place. You had never seen a lantern glow like that before, and had to avert your eyes when an unsettling feeling that you were having a hard time placing began to creep up on you.

As you turned to look at the doors ahead of you, the feeling began to intensify. Your wound disappearing, the mysterious glow of the lanterns, and the owner of the home’s absence… it was all pushing you rapidly towards a conclusion that you didn’t want to accept.

Slowly, you walked towards the doors, knowing that you would have to open them and either confirm or deny your sudden suspicions. It was hard to believe that someone from your village had come into the spirit world to save you, but you wanted to believe that it was the truth. But each step you took towards the door eroded your confidence more and more, but you had to know.

The door felt cold against your palm, unease swirling in your chest as you stared at the wooden door, knowing you needed to open it, but afraid to know the truth. Cursing your own cowardice, you began to push the door open before you could convince yourself not to, watching as the small sliver of outside grew as you opened the door wide enough for you to slip out of it.

Your hopes were dashed immediately. There was no mistaking the purple of the trees for your small village, nor the unnaturally clean river that flowed around the temple you stood outside of. It was equally as unbelievable as being rescued by one of the villagers; who could have rescued you from certain death in this place? You had never seen a soul here besides the azakana and the small animals that roamed the forests, and neither one of them likely had the desire or means to save your life.

Your chest felt tight as the possibilities swam in your head. Were you dead? You didn’t feel dead, but how else could you have woken up in the spirit realm, your deep wound completely gone?

Now that you knew you were still in the spirit world, you couldn’t just go back into the temple and pretend that everything was alright. But what were you supposed to do? The sun was out, so it was clearly daytime, so there was little chance of the path still being here, not unless your grandmother had lied to you.

It was weird looking out at the spirit world in the daytime; you had only ever seen this place at midnight hours, and found yourself transfixed by the beauty of this world in the daytime as well. The purple trees gleamed in the sunlight, swaying gently with the morning breeze. The whole scene would have been calming, if it weren’t for the fact that no human was ever supposed to see it.

You knew that the path home would not be open for a whole month, and while the thought was depressing, you couldn’t just give up. Just because nobody who had gotten trapped here had ever returned didn’t mean that there was no other way back. You couldn’t fool yourself into being optimistic, but you also weren’t willing to roll over and die without trying to find a way out of here.

Reluctantly, you made your way down the steps, heading towards the pedestal that stood in front of the temple. The carved demonic mask in the stone of the pedestal stared up at you, just as you thought it would. You knew that those distinctive purple trees were only in the demon mask spirit’s territory, but part of you refused to believe that was where you were until you gazed down at the pedestal that could not have belonged to anyone else.

You hung your head as you tried to make sense of what had happened to you. All signs pointed towards someone or something here saving you, but you couldn’t understand why a spirit would save you. From all you knew of them, the spirits did not act unless there was a benefit for them. You let out a sigh, tracing the pedestal carving with your fingers as you pondered your next move.

“Are you alright, little human?”

The deep voice directly behind you combined with a clawed hand on your shoulder startled you back into a hard chest with a gasp. Spinning around so quickly you nearly gave yourself whiplash, you came face to face with the spirit you had been the most afraid of, the one wearing a golden mask over his face identical to the one carved into the face of the pedestal.

“You… you…” you stammered, backing away from the figure.

You shivered with fear, wrapping your arms around yourself as you continued to back away from the spirit, not taking your eyes off of his intimidatingly large figure.

He was tall, taller than all of the men in your village, but it wasn’t his height that quickened your steps backward. His skin was bright purple, the ridges of his defined chest and abdomen a vibrant fuchsia. You could see none of his face, as it was covered by a golden mask with white slits for eyes and sharp golden teeth. Though now that you thought about it, the mask could <i>be</i> his face; you had never seen a spirit before, so you had no idea what they normally looked like.

His outfit consisted of a short vest and hakama pants, a thick silver braided cord laced through a gold masklike buckle tied around his waist like a belt. Other than two beaded necklaces around his neck, he wore no other accessories. His wild silver hair was tied back, but hung behind him in spikes, two large horns jutting out of his forehead. Overall, he made for a very intimidating figure, each step he took towards you prompting you to take one back.

“I’m sorry for being in your domain,” you fearfully apologized, staring at his mask. “I’ll leave now so you–”

“Stop!” he demanded, the authority in his voice stopping you in your tracks.

You flinched as he pulled a section of cord from the back of his belt, the end of the cord tipped with a large golden hook. Before you could react, he tossed the hook your way, the implement making a sharp noise as it cut through the air. You shut your eyes, too scared to move as you awaited your death for upsetting the fearsome spirit.

A horrific screech from behind you had your eyes flying back open, watching as the spirit’s hook dragged a large dark creature past you and towards himself. Clutching your hands to your chest, you watched as the struggling azakana was yanked towards the spirit, who then slashed at it with his claws, the demon vanishing with an ugly scream.

As soon as the azakana had been killed, the spirit re-stowed his hook before turning his attention back to you. He approached you again, slower this time, his head bowed slightly, and you were struck by the thought that he seemed to be trying to make himself appear less threatening to you. You were so confused by his sudden meekness that you just stared in confusion as he approached you.

He stopped a short distance from you, and now that he was close, you finally took notice of his long ears, longer than any ears you had seen before even on an elf, but now those ears were drooped downwards. The large spirit was silent before you, looking like a kicked puppy.

When he was confident that you weren’t going to run from him, he slowly reached up towards his face, pulling the face plate from his mask away from his face. You were surprised to see relatively normal facial features, minus his large brow ridge where his forehead met his horns. His face was as purple as the rest of him, but his eyes were the most unusual feature of his face, fuchsia where they would be white on a human, his irises white instead. He wasn’t exactly handsome, but he didn’t look anything like the monster you had imagined would be under that demon mask.

“I apologize if this form… repulses you,” he said, his long ears still drooped.

How could you have ever thought he was a monster? Seeing how sad he looked, you felt overcome with the need to comfort him.

“No,” you refuted gently. “You don’t repulse me. And… you saved me back in the forest, didn’t you?”

“I did,” he confirmed quietly, seeming awkward under your curious gaze.

“But why would you–”

You were cut off by a loud howl from the forest behind you, and watched as the spirit’s expression turned severe, a deep frown overtaking his features. His gaze flit to something behind you, but before you could turn back to see what he was looking at, you were distracted by him stepping closer to you.

“We must head inside my temple,” he spoke quietly but sternly, his white eyes still on the forest behind you. “It is not safe for you out here.”

Without another word, he turned to retreat towards the temple, your eyes drawn to the shiny gold hook on the back of his belt, the same hook he had used to draw the azakana to him earlier before he had clawed it in half. As unnerving as his appearance was, he had saved your life more than once now, so after a short moment, you shelved your reservations about him for now and scurried after him. You heard another demonic howl as you retreated, but were too scared to look behind you as you climbed up the steps to the temple, following behind the spirit as he entered.

Entering the room, you found the spirit standing in the middle of the room, facing you. Feeling unsure, you slowly entered the temple, flinching when the door shut by itself as soon as you had walked through it. You looked back at the doors in disbelief before turning back to face the purple-skinned spirit, but were surprised again to find a different man in his place.

“Who–” you gasped, backing up, watching as the handsome man’s face was overcome by surprise and concern.

He stepped towards you but then froze, lowering his hand to his side. The motion brought your eyes down to his hand, frozen beside a very familiar corded belt. There were clear differences; the end of his hakama was now lined with gold trim, and the rips in his collar and the tails of his belted sash were absent, but it was undeniably the outfit that the purple spirit had been wearing. Unchanged as well were the two horns that protruded from his head, still the vibrant shade of deep purple melding into fuchsia.

Whereas before you were afraid to look at him, now you couldn’t look away. The gold demon mask he had worn was gone, so now there was nothing obstructing his otherworldly handsome face. His eyes now looked like a normal human’s, minus his now-fuchsia irises, his skin now pale instead of the bright purple it had been. His formerly-silver hair still hung back in spikes, but the now-dark-purple locks also hung over his forehead and fell to the sides of his face. In all, he was absurdly handsome, his visage well-befitting the title of a spirit.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

Your eyes met his, and you felt your cheeks flare up with shame and embarrassment. Here he was looking genuinely concerned for you when you had been busy checking him out. You noticed that his ears had drooped again in worry, which was not helping you try to focus on something other than how cute he was.

Realizing that you should probably answer him, you nodded. “I’m okay. I didn’t expect your appearance to change so suddenly so I was… surprised.”

“I apologize,” he said, eyes flitting to the ground. “I understand that a demon’s appearance would be distressing to a human.”

“No!” you interjected, not wanting to make him look so sad, but also not wanting to have to own up to your blatant ogling. In the end, the spirit’s downturned eyes and drooping ears got to you, your cheeks pink in anticipation of what you were about to admit to. “It’s just… you’re much more handsome than I expected of a spirit with a demon mask for a totem.”

It was his turn to turn pink, his eyes looking up to meet yours, mouth open slightly in surprise. He smiled shyly, the sight not helping your soaring heartbeat.

“Lost souls run from me, so I feared that you would be the same,” he admitted.

You silently admitted to yourself that you could see why, given how intimidating his more demonic form looked. Not wanting to keep the mood in the room so down, you decided to change the subject and maybe get some answers at last, but were surprised when he spoke up first.

“You are welcome in my temple, little human. I am called Thresh.”

Oh. You weren’t expecting such a formal introduction, but gave your name in return with a small bow of your head. From all that you had been told as a child, a spirit’s temperament was fickle at best, and you were desperate to not offend the spirit before you, even if he hadn’t done anything to you up to this point.

Another horrible screech from outside the temple, sounding closer than before, had Thresh tensing up slightly. “Before I answer your questions, there is something that must be done first.”

The sounds outside were only growing louder and closer; it sounded like an army of azakana were approaching. You were so distracted by the noises that you failed to notice Thresh approaching you until he had taken one of your hands in his. With a quiet gasp, you looked down at your hand, his purple clawlike nails gently resting against your hand. Looking up from your hand, you found Thresh staring intently at you, the seriousness in his eyes catching you off guard.

“I must offer you my protection. It is the only way to keep the azakana at bay. Do you agree?” he spoke, leaving you feeling frozen under his intense gaze.

You couldn’t help but feel like there was some hidden meaning in his words that you were not understanding, but with the cries of the azakana getting closer, you didn’t have time to ask.

“I agree,” you spoke quickly, just wanting the azakana to go away.

Thresh nodded once before placing his other hand, the one covered in striped blue fabric up to his biceps, over the back of your hand. You watched as a purple glow surrounded his hand, and then engulfed your own hand. Your hand began to feel cold, <i>too</i> cold, but Thresh’s tight grip on you didn’t allow you to pull away. That, and your hand was feeling more numb by the second.

Just when the sounds of the demons outside were getting too close to bear, Thresh let go of your hand and the noises outside stopped all at once. Looking down at your hand, you found the previously-unmarred skin now bore a familiar mark… the same mark engraved into the stone pedestal just outside the temple. The purple demon mask laid on your skin like a tattoo, but it hadn’t hurt like you had heard they did; even the cold you had felt had quickly faded once Thresh had released your hand.

“My mark will protect you as long as you are within this temple or close to me,” Thresh explained.

Yesterday, the mask on your hand would have been terrifying, but now the sight brought you comfort; it was the only reason you weren’t being torn apart by azakana right now. But more than anything, you felt curious; why would a spirit go out of his way to protect you? There were lots of humans in your world; it wouldn’t be unusual for a spirit to view a human life like humans would view a bug.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked at last, at least a little proud that you had got the words out without stuttering.

“You are the human gift bringer, are you not?” Thresh answered your question with a question of his own, waiting for your stunned nod before continuing. “Your gifts have been a comfort a demon like me does not deserve. I could not allow such a precious mortal to die at the claws of the azakana.”

“How did you know I brought those gifts?” The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it. As soon as you had spoken the words, you were kicking yourself; you were the only human that came to this world, at least to your knowledge, it was obvious how he knew who you were.

Thresh didn’t look annoyed, as you feared he would, but instead looked happy to answer your question. “Your aura is the same one that surrounds the items you leave. I could never mistake your aura for another.”

You couldn’t do much other than stare at him, astonished at the warmth in his voice. The thought of a spirit knowing of you personally was almost too much to comprehend. Your hands went to the collar of your shirt, needing something to fiddle with to settle your nerves, but you quickly retracted your grip on the material when you felt the unpleasant starch the dried blood lent to the fabric. Now that you thought about it, the shirt felt heavy and uncomfortable against your skin, the darkened ruddy red-brown color now a reminder of just how close you had come to dying. That, and your skin was still stained with dried blood as well; looking down at the red under your nails, you realized what a sight you must be right now. If anything, Thresh had more reason to be repulsed by your current appearance than the other way around.

As scared as you were to impose any further on him, you were just as reluctant to spend a month covered in your own blood. “Is there somewhere here where I can bathe?”

You felt bad asking, but you reminded yourself that it had to be done. If he said no, then that was that, but you had to try for your own sake.

Thresh looked pensive for a moment. “There is the lake of souls.”

You jolted at the ominous-sounding name. “Is that safe?”

“It is the place new human souls appear when they come to this world after death,” he answered matter-of-factly. “I have not gone there in so long. It is not a place for a creature such as I, undeserving of its essence. However, the waters there are safe for bathing in.”

Thresh walked past you to the temple doors, and you turned to follow him, eager for a bath, even if it was in some odd soul water. Thresh raised a hand to the door, but seemed hesitant to open it. You stared at his back, unsure of what to say, when he turned his head back to face you, that same sad look back on his face.

“I must warn you; outside of this temple, I do not have the power to maintain this form. I apologize if you find me distasteful to look at.”

“It’s okay,” you replied, quietly feeling sorry for the spirit. He seemed infinitely more bothered by his appearance than you were, which helped you to feel more comfortable around his purple-skinned form. You could never have imagined a spirit would be so meek.

You followed Thresh outside, but hesitated at the bridge that led over the river and towards the forest of purple trees, the trauma of being attacked by an azakana in that forest last night stopping you in your tracks with fear.

Thresh was halfway across the bridge when he noticed that you had not followed, turning back to cautiously approach you. He had forgone his golden mask, leaving only the metal along his jaw, so you could see the worry in his expression as he stopped before you, offering you his gloved hand.

“I promise that you are safe. While you are under my protection, the azakana cannot see you,” he spoke with earnest.

You stared at his hand for a moment before reaching out to grab it with the hand that was emblazoned with his mark, the purple horned mask shimmering under the morning light. Thresh grinned happily when you took his hand, his grin only half visible under the lower half of his golden mask. You weren’t sure if the golden metal that covered his lower face and the top of his ears could be removed or not, but you didn’t want to draw attention to his appearance, so you let him lead you across the bridge and into the forest.

Despite your initial apprehension, you found yourself admiring the beauty of the spirit world in the daytime. The colors were so much more vibrant, the entire forest seeming so much more alive than it had before. Even the animals seemed livelier, soft noises of life reaching your ears from the oddly-colored animals that called this forest their home.

While you could not be seen by the azakana, if Thresh were to be believed, the animals were a different story. You even caught sight of that odd little fox you saw on your visits sometimes sunbathing on a rock, its teal tail spread out below it, the tip falling to the ground. It looked very relaxed, until you caught sight of its ear twitching before its eyes opened and it stared directly at you, almost as if it wanted you to know that it had caught you staring.

Its gaze made you feel too exposed, like it knew something that you didn’t. You turned your attention elsewhere, not wanting to attract even the attention of a fox in this place. Now that you knew you were visible to the animals here, you wondered what other things lived in this place alongside the ones you had seen before. They lived in the spirit world though, so it was not a guarantee that they were as harmless as they seemed, which you would have to keep in mind if you wanted to leave this place alive in just under a month.

A whole month in this place. The full extent of your situation began to sink in, leaving you with more questions than you had answers for. Was Thresh even willing to put up with for you a month? And what would you do for food or water while you were here? You had no answers, but decided not to press for them until after your skin was no longer stained with your own blood. You had not felt so thoroughly unclean in so long, the desire to be clean again overriding all other desires at the moment.

Thresh led you through the forest until the trees began to thin out, leading to an area of mossy rocks surrounding a large body of clear water. The area was silent, but it was a tranquil silence, the area seeming to radiate a calming energy that helped to soothe your still-frazzled nerves.

“The lake of souls,” Thresh introduced with a sad look in his eyes that confused you. What about this beautiful place made him look so melancholy?

“Is it okay to bathe here?” you asked warily, watching the gentle ripples in the water’s surface. “This place seems too sacred to dirty by bathing in it.”

Thresh shook his head. “This place exists for human souls, therefore it also exists for human souls that are still living as well.”

You were still reluctant, but decided that it was better to give in and bathe here rather than stay filthy for a month. You walked towards the water’s edge, stopping just short of the lake’s gentle waters. You turned your head back, expecting Thresh to have at least turned his back to give you some privacy, but he stood in the same spot, still staring expressionlessly out at the lake.

You were about to call out to him when a sudden noise from the water behind you startled you. You looked back at the water, unsure of what was happening, an odd disturbance in the middle of the lake catching your notice immediately.

What looked like a very small tornado had appeared on the surface of the lake, some sort of a bright light at its center. You stared, puzzled by the strange display before you. You had no frame of reference for any part of this situation; you had been the spirit guardian for only six months, and it was abundantly clear to you how little you knew of the spirits and their world.

You leaned forward, squinting slightly as you tried to figure out what was happening, when suddenly the small tornado turned scarlet red and furious, the inner glow burning red hot. You backed away from the water with a gasp as what sounded like a high-pitched scream rang out across the lake; whipping your hair around with a burst of slightly-too-warm air.

You couldn’t scramble away fast enough, terrified by this strange entity, unsure if its next move would be to charge at you or not. Thresh had said you were safe from azakana while under his protection, but this thing didn’t look like any of the azakana you had seen last night.

“Thresh, what is that?” you asked, voice quiet and frightened.

“A disquieted soul,” came his solemn answer. “It has not accepted its death and is rejecting its new form.”

“What?” you breathed. That sounded awful. How horribly could this person have died to come to the spirit world in such a state? “Can you help him?”

Thresh was silent, eyes unfocused, like he was somewhere else entirely, only snapping out of his thoughts when you called his name again. He turned his back to the lake, the motion making the beads around his neck knock against his chest.

“I can do nothing for him,” he said at last.

“What?” you began, worry bleeding to frustration. “But you’re a spirit. Your job is to guide human souls in the afterlife.”

“…not anymore,” he murmured, chin drooping along with his ears. You couldn’t see his face, but you could imagine his eyebrows sunken in despair just by the tone of his voice.

The soul was still in panic, and you couldn’t just leave them like that, even though Thresh seemed perfectly content to ignore the problem. You had always pictured the spirits as omnipotent beings that cared for human souls, allowing their loved ones to rest knowing they were in a better place in death, but watching the spirit before you dismiss the soul’s pain snapped something within you.

“We bring you offerings in exchange for your protection!” you shouted, watching Thresh’s back tense up in surprise. “Protection in this life and the afterlife. If you let that soul suffer, then you don’t deserve the gifts I’ve brought you!”

He finally turned to face you at last, and now you could see the sorrow in his white eyes. “I am unworthy of my position, I was enlightened of that long ago.”

“Somebody told you that you couldn’t help souls?” you asked.

He answered your question with a single nod of his head. “My involvement will only make things worse.”

You felt bad for him, but didn’t find yourself believing what he did about himself. He didn’t seem inherently bad to you, and with nobody around, even a sorry attempt to help would be better than no attempt at all.

“Please, Thresh,” you implored the spirit, determined to try at least one more time. “That soul is hurting and it needs you. Will you please try to help?”

You could see on his face that he was wavering, but eventually his eyebrows lifted, expression shifting to one of stony determination as he walked past you to the edge of the water. “Very well. I will try.”

“Come to me, my child,” he spoke to the soul, and you were stunned by how his voice filled the area despite being no louder than his normal speaking voice.

Despite being thoroughly devoid of knowledge of the spirit world, you could tell that there was power in his words. Deep inside you, you could feel a pull to obey his words and go to him, but you were easily able to ignore the urge. The soul on the lake, however, clearly could not resist as it began to drift closer to where Thresh stood at the water’s edge. You stayed where you were, transfixed by the scene before you but also unwilling to get closer to the fiery soul tornado that was coming your way.

The soul quickly approached Thresh, only calming when he reached out to take it in hand, the tornado dissipating and leaving behind a ball of now-white light. Now that it wasn’t a whirling tornado of fire, the soul looked rather peaceful. You couldn’t understand Thresh’s reluctance to help; he had calmed the troubled soul with only a touch, so how had he come to believe that he was so incapable of helping souls?

With his other hand, Thresh raised the lantern that was usually attached to his roped belt, the soul gently drifting inside before leaving the lantern as a soft purple wisp. The lantern lit up with a bright glow, and for a moment, you watched Thresh’s appearance flicker back to his more humanlike side, his pale skin and deep purple hair visible for only a short moment before his form returned to its usual demonic appearance.

Thresh stared down at his lantern for a long moment before finally stowing it back on his belt and turning his attention back to you. “The waters are now calm.”

You couldn’t help but wonder why he still looked so sad even after he was able to subdue the restless soul, but quickly pushed your curiosities down inside you; you had already yelled at him, and you didn’t want to push your luck by pressing him with questions and end up having him revoke the protection that he had blessed you with.

You passed the silent spirit with a small nod, waiting until he walked into the trees before you approached the water. You couldn’t see him in the trees and could only hope he hadn’t forgotten about you and left. You hadn’t been around him very long, certainly not long enough to understand him beyond a superficial level.

You removed your shirt first, wincing with disgust as you peeled the fabric off, dried blood having stuck it uncomfortably to your skin. Laying your clothes out next to the water, you were astounded that you had survived that much blood loss. Obviously Thresh had intervened and saved you, but you were surprised you had lived long enough to be saved in the first place. It was only by Thresh’s intervention that you were here in this place as a human and not a ball of light like the soul on the lake, and how had you repaid him? By freaking out on him and then yelling at him. It was a miracle you were still standing after showing such disrespect for a spirit.

You thought a quiet apology as you got into the water, feeling bad that you were dirtying such a sacred place with your blood, at least until you noticed that the red seemed to disappear the second it hit the water. With wide eyes, you tried again, wiping a wet hand across your shoulder and watching as the supernaturally-pure water made the flecks of dried blood disappear, the water once again clean. You let out a relieved sigh as you continued to wash yourself, glad that you didn’t have to worry about sullying the sacred lake with your blood.

You dunked your head under the water, allowing the water to wash away all of the grime that had accumulated in it since you had come to this place. Coming back up for air, you took another look at your shoulder, still not fully able to believe your fatal wound was gone. Running a hand over the spot, you could barely believe it had been run through with an azakana’s horn if you hadn’t watched it happen and felt the horrible pain yourself.

As you thought back to being surrounded by azakana, you suddenly felt all-too-exposed, naked and alone in the wide open area of the lake. Looking around, you didn’t see anything, not even an animal, but you still felt uneasy. Now wanting to be done as soon as possible so you could return to Thresh’s side, you quickly grabbed your clothing from the lakeside, doing your best to get the blood out of the fabric.

Your clothing was soaking wet, but the white fabric was only dyed very lightly red-brown now, which was better than it had been before. There was not much you could do about the large hole in the shoulder of your shirt, but you felt better knowing you wouldn’t be wearing clothing that was half soaked in your own blood.

Walking up to the treeline, you hesitated to enter the trees alone, instead calling out for Thresh at a volume you hoped he would hear, but not anyone or anything else that might be nearby. You were trying not to jump at every little sound, even though you were not fully sure what it was that you were afraid of in the bright light of the early afternoon.

You weren’t left waiting long, as Thresh quickly appeared from behind some trees, his expression neutral. At least he wasn’t looking as sad as he had at the lake, but that didn’t mean that you had any idea about how you were supposed to interact with him after your outburst. That, and you still had no idea what would happen to you for the rest of the month you were stuck here for. You didn’t know if spirits ate or slept, but you wouldn’t survive long without either. Thresh had offered you his protection, but that didn’t mean that he intended to put up with a live human in his space for a full month.

As nervous as you were, you forced yourself to speak up. “I appreciate you bringing me to the lake,” you started, feeling intimidated by Thresh’s lack of expression. “But I was wondering if there was a place here I could stay in for my time here, preferably one with food humans can eat. If you could just point me in the right direction, I won’t impose on you any further.”

The purple spirit’s silver eyebrows drew together in apparent confusion. “You… do not wish to remain with me?”

“Uh…” You hadn’t expected him to look so sad; you would have thought a spirit wouldn’t want to spend a month of their time babysitting a human that was dumb enough to get themselves mauled by an azakana and trapped in the spirit world.

“I understand if it is hard to be around a creature like me,” he spoke, a bittersweet smile on his face. “I will ask another spirit to protect you in my stead. I had not meant to cause you distress with my company.”

The spirit before you seemed so meek, and as he spoke, you realized he also seemed so… lonely. The downward turn of his gaze was enough to propel you forward, one hand on his arm making him look up to you with shock.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought I would be in your way. I would love to stay with you if that is okay.”

You realized that maybe you had laid it on a bit thick as Thresh’s purple cheeks turned bright pink, the pink whites of his eyes turning cyan blue. Panicking, you removed your hand from his arm, hoping it would help him calm down. Was he dying? You hadn’t meant to kill him! You had only been trying to make up for making him so sad, but hadn’t anticipated such an intense reaction from him.

Thresh let out a shaky breath, letting you know that you probably hadn’t killed him. “Your company would be most appreciated, little human. I have been alone for far too long in this place.”

His color gradually returned to normal, which was a relief for you, along with the fact that he looked to be in a much better mood now. You finally felt like you could relax a bit, lips raising in a shy smile; now you just felt embarrassed for overreacting yet again. It was a wonder that Thresh was willing to put up with you.

You followed Thresh back to his temple in silence, but it was a much more comfortable silence. It was a relief to know that you had somewhere to stay for the month, taking one worry away from the pile you had accumulated since coming here.

You followed him out of the forest and across the bridge that led over the river with the unlit lanterns in it. You were content to alternate between looking at the scenery and staring at Thresh’s back, at the still-shining lantern and hook attached to his belt, at least until you re-entered the temple.

The change was immediate; the tattered clothing and bright silver hair shifted, Thresh’s appearance reverting to his humanlike form again. But instead of being nervous, you found yourself thinking about the way his appearance had flickered between forms earlier by the lake, and about what he had told you.

“Thresh?”

The spirit hummed a short reply, turning around to stare at you curiously.

You took in his pale-skinned form, which would have looked deceptively human if not for the elongated ears and horns. “Earlier, at the lake… for a second, you looked like you do now.”

Thresh nodded, the same bittersweet smile from earlier gracing his lips. “You were right, I have not been worthy of the gifts you bring for quite a long time. It is my role here to care for souls, and doing so gives me the power to maintain this form. I have often thought that my hideous form is a fitting punishment for forsaking my duties.”

“You said someone told you that you weren’t capable of helping souls…” He did not deny the statement, so you continued. “But you were able to calm that panicking soul down immediately. I think you’re more capable of helping souls than you think.”

“I did,” he replied after a short silence. “But my past is not so easily forgotten. Come, I will prepare you some tea.”

He turned away, leading you towards the hallway where all the rooms were. It seemed that he intended to avoid the topic, which only made you wonder more why that person had told him that he couldn’t help souls. You had seen him soothe that soul with your own eyes, and you could see no reason anyone would have to take issue with him. But you didn’t want to press him on it further and upset him, so you followed quietly behind him until he stopped at the first door in the hall.

This room looked very similar to the one you had woken up in, the same mountainscape painted on the walls, but the air in this room had a gentle flowery fragrance in the air, likely from the incense that lay on a small white dish in the center of the room. The décor was very simple, with only a small table and some cushions, as well as a small cabinet in the corner.

Thresh approached the cabinet, while you went to take a seat on one of the floor cushions. A small rattle of china brought your attention to Thresh as he approached the table, carrying a tray with a simple deep blue clay teapot and two cups.

Placing the tray down, Thresh looked sheepish. “I apologize for the state of my tea set. I have not had company in several hundred years.”

Just how old was he? You watched as he poured the teapot, surprised when a light green liquid began to pour into the cup. There was no source of water in the room, and you doubted that the tea would last the hundreds of years since he had said he last had company, so it was likely supernatural in nature. You really hoped that eventually you would stop being surprised by every little thing in this place, but it was hard when everything here was just so different to the simple world you lived in.

You waited for him to pour his own tea before taking a sip of yours, a gentle, sweet taste settling on your tongue. The tea was unlike any you had tasted before, like it was flavored with some berry that grew only in the spirit world. Finding you were quite thirsty, your tea quickly disappeared, and you were soon left with nothing but an empty cup.

“Did you enjoy it?” Thresh asked quite eagerly, his own tea yet untouched.

“Yes, it’s lovely!” you answered, caught off guard by his sudden energy.

“I am glad,” he spoke with a soft smile, the sight making your heart skip a beat in your chest. He finally brought his cup to his lips and took a sip, letting out a pleased hum. “It has been too long since I last tasted this.”

“You can’t drink it when you’re alone?” you asked, setting your cup down.

“I can,” he answered. “But spirits do not need to eat or drink, so I only partake when I have company. Drinking this tea alone only reminds me of my solitude, which spoils the flavor.”

You bit your lip as you pondered what to reply. He seemed so casual about his loneliness, like it was something he had long since accepted as fact. You had always thought of the spirits as faceless, omnipotent beings that were so far above humans that they weren’t even comparable. Seeing him now, you did not see the faceless deity you had brought presents to, nor the terrifying spirit that had initially greeted you in front of the temple, but instead a being not so different from yourself.

You understood his feelings well, especially as of late. Your grandmother was the last person you had that you had really felt close to, and you had barely begun your spirit guardian training when she had suddenly died, throwing you into your role before you were ready. The people in town would speak to you, but there were none that you could really connect with, and you knew that they often kept you at arm’s length. Your connection to the spirits was a curse as much as it was a blessing; you had heard whispers around you before suggesting that displeasing you would bring the ire of the spirits upon oneself, as if you were some vengeful warden intent on using the spirits for your own benefit. Just thinking about it made your chest ache with that same loneliness that was in Thresh’s eyes.

Thresh had only simple food on hand, which was fine with you. Food to eat and a bed to sleep in were more than you could have hoped for, but Thresh seemed happy to play host to you.

You weren’t content to just sit around and be catered to by someone who had saved your life and gotten nothing in return. After you ate, you had gotten to work after finding a broom and some cloths, intent on paying Thresh back for his kindness.

“You are not my servant,” Thresh insisted with a pout from twenty feet away from you.

At first, he had tried to stop you from cleaning his floors, which you had refused, determined to do something for him. Then he had tried to help, but the first swipe of dust from the floor had sent him into such a wild sneezing fit that you had to banish him to the other side of the room, where he was currently trying to protest your cleaning spree from. He had started his fretting only after his sneezes had finally stopped, all while you tried not to giggle at how cute his sneezes were.

“You’re giving me food and a bed,” you replied. “This is the least I can do. And besides, you start sneezing if you even <i>see</i> dust.”

Thresh’s cheeks flushed pink. “I am truly ashamed at how long I have left my temple like this.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him, which turned his ears pink as well as his cheeks, but at least he had finally stopped protesting your cleaning of his temple. He still seemed intent to stay close to you, minus the dust-guarding distance. It was a little silly, but you didn’t mind the company while you worked.

Dinnertime came fairly quickly, the entryway completely spotless when Thresh finally convinced you to stop and eat. He sat across from you at the small table, drinking that same tea as you ate your meal.

“I’m afraid I do not have much food on hand,” Thresh admitted with a frown. “I will have to go fetch more supplies in a few days.”

You nodded, swallowing a bite of rice. “How long will you be gone for?”

“No more than a few hours,” he answered. “The trading post is not too far from here.”

“You have a trading post here?” you asked curiously.

“We do,” he replied simply. “It is where I get this tea from. But I have not gone in a long while. I have not had reason to go until now.”

His words made you worry that you were making him go out of his way, but the small smile on his face helped to relax you. He was a kind spirit, and you didn’t want to annoy him by constantly apologizing for inconveniencing him, so you would allow yourself to accept his kindness for now.

It turned out that Thresh’s bedroom just a few doors down from yours, which came as a great relief to you. You knew that you had his protection, the mark on your hand was enough of a reminder of that, but you were having a hard time fully ridding yourself of your fears, especially alone in your futon late at night.

This bed was not so different than your own one at home, but at the same time, everything felt so different. Even the air here was different; it somehow felt more pure here, and you supposed it made sense. This was a place free of the contamination of your world, as the only people here were the souls of the dead, and you doubted they had any need to breathe anymore.

You eventually fell asleep thinking of your grandmother, of the egg pudding she used to make the morning after she returned from doing her rounds as spirit guardian. You could only wonder what she would have thought of your failure only six months after taking up the post she had held for over fifty years. As you drifted off, you apologized to her in your mind for letting her down.

 As you walked into the entry room a few days later, you found Thresh getting ready to leave, a simple purple bag slung over one shoulder. The bag itself looked like it would hold up, but it was clearly well-used, and could use a good stitching in some parts. You made a mental note to offer to fix it up for him when he came back.

Thresh noticed you immediately, his fingers releasing the bag as he turned to fully face you.

“Have a safe trip,” you said. “I’ll do some more cleaning while you’re gone.”

“You do not have to,” he grumbled, before thinking better of it with a shake of his head. “I will return no later than this evening.”

“Got it,” you replied. You could find something to occupy you until then. It wasn’t like you were going to complain about being lonely when he was only making this trip for your benefit in the first place.

Thresh’s smile quickly faded, face and voice becoming more serious. “While I am gone, do not leave this temple. My protection can only keep you safe from azakana if you are by my side or within my temple. I could not bear it if anything happened to you while I was away, I implore you–”

There were the droopy sad ears again. It would be cute if he didn’t look so upset.

“I won’t leave,” you promised. “I’m not eager to meet any more azakana anyways.”

“But…” He seemed reluctant to leave you. He was even more concerned for you than you were yourself. You had never pictured a spirit to be such a worrier.

“I’ll be fine,” you spoke gently. “You should go now, or you’ll be late getting back and I might be so bored by then that I wander into the forest looking for dirt to sweep up.”

You had meant it to be a joke, but by the alarm in Thresh’s widened eyes, your joking tone hadn’t quite been understood by the highly-stung spirit. Regardless, your words propelled him into action at last as he made his way towards the front door, sliding it open.

As he crossed the threshold, you watched his deep purple hair turn silver again, his demonic form returning as he left the power of his temple. He turned back to face you, still looking vaguely like a kicked puppy.

“I’ll be here when you return,” you insisted. “Now go.”

He nodded once. “You will be… here. It is a strange feeling to have someone waiting for me to return. Strange, but not unpleasant.”

You smiled, giving him a short wave. Thresh returned your smile with his sharp teeth, reaching into a pocket to bring out the face plate of his golden mask and affixing it to his face. His expressive eyes now hidden from your view, Thresh finally turned to head towards the bridge that would take him into the forest.

You watched him go until his tall form was swallowed by the vibrant purple trees, slowly sliding the door closed when you lost all sight of him. You stared at the closed door for a moment before forcing yourself to snap out of it. Thresh was a being of this world, the creatures here did not present the same danger to him as they did to you. He would be fine. And moreover, you had some cleaning to do; hopefully it would tire you out enough for you to keep your mind off of Thresh.

Your own room was fairly empty, and you didn’t want to go into Thresh’s room while he wasn’t there, so for now that left the room where you had drank tea together.

The table was easy enough to clean, and you found yourself tracing a finger over a groove that ran along the length of the small table. Could he have gotten this from the trading post? Or was it just here, like his temple was? You felt like you could ask every question on your mind and still be no closer to understanding how this world worked.

The time passed quickly at first, but began to slow down rapidly after the first hour or two. You only realized how bad it was when you looked down at the cup you were polishing, only to realize it was the same one you had polished an hour ago. Maybe there were less things to occupy your attention here than you had thought.

Maybe a change of pace would help ease away the boredom you were trying to ignore. Getting to your feet, you returned the cleaning items to the cupboard in the entryway, letting out a sigh as you looked over the room.

You were distracted from your moping by a barely-audible noise coming from the direction of the front door. Taking a step toward the door, you heard it again, slightly louder this time. It sounded like something was scratching against the door, but it seemed to be something small.

You were debating what to do when the door was scratched against once more, followed by a low whine that sounded vaguely pained. Thresh had said not to leave the temple, but surely just opening the door would be okay? The creature outside whined once more, and your decision was made. You couldn’t just leave an injured animal outside, especially if it had also been attacked by an azakana like you had been. You would open the door, bring it in, and then close it back up. The plan was nice and simple, which was why it went awry almost immediately.

Sliding the door halfway open, you peeked out, seeing nothing. Perplexed, you wondered if you had been so bored that you were hearing things. It could be possible, but really, anything was possible in this place.

A high-pitched bark had you reconsidering your hallucination theory, looking ahead to see a white fox standing ten or so feet in front of you, staring right at you with supernaturally blue eyes.

As you stared at it, you realized that it looked familiar. Its vibrant teal tail, the bells on a magenta cord tied around its neck… was this the same fox you had seen that night on your walk? The same one that had caught you staring at it when Thresh took you to the lake?

But what was it doing here? Why would a fox go to so much trouble just to get the attention of one lone human?

The fox chirped, ensuring it had your attention before it dashed around the side of Thresh’s temple, disappearing from view. What was it doing? You stared in the direction it had vanished, confused, when another chirp rang out from the side of the temple. The fox would not stop talking at you, which began to make you think… did it want you to follow it?

You were wary, remembering Thresh’s warning, but his temple’s protection should include the temple land as well, wouldn’t it? He hadn’t specified, but the land had to count as well, didn’t it? And the fox was clearly not an azakana, at least it didn’t look like the ones you had seen that night. You didn’t stop to think about it any further, dismissing it as likely alright as you slid the door closed behind you.

“Hello?” you called out as you walked towards the side of the building. “Are you okay, little guy?”

Turning the corner, you expected to see the fox nursing an injury, but found yourself instead face to face with a striking woman in a short kimono.

You jumped back, catching yourself before you could fall down, staring wide-eyed at the magenta-haired woman. She tilted her head slightly as she appraised you, which drew your attention to the large pair of animal-like… <i>fox-like</i>… ears atop her head, which then focussed your attention to the mass of tails that flared out behind her.

“You took long enough,” she said, but her voice didn’t sound angry. “Now, we have to go. I don’t know how long we have until he comes back.”

“He…?” you pondered out loud as the words began to sink in. “Wait, I can’t! Thresh said his protection only works if I stay here!”

“You–” She started, but then cut herself off. “His… protection?”

You brought a hand up to your chest, taking a step back from the strange woman. “I… he…”

The woman moved towards you so fast that you were almost unable to see the movement, snatching your hand and bringing it towards her. You tried to tug your hand back, but her grip was iron as she leaned down to stare closely at your hand. You stared down at her, unease crawling along your skin, when you noticed that it was the hand that bore Thresh’s mark under her grip.

“He gave you… his mark,” she said, voice heavy with confusion. She released your hand at last, and you quickly brought it back to your side, still unsure of what to make of this weirdly intense fox girl.

“Who are you?” you asked, trying to estimate your chances of making it back inside before she caught up to you if it turned out that she was here to do you harm. “And why are you here?”

She smiled, and her tails seemed to fluff up behind her like a peacock. “My name is Ahri, and I came here to rescue you from Thresh.”

“From Thresh?” you echoed. Did she know something you didn’t?

“Yes,” she confirmed, sounding unsure herself. “I thought with his history, he may be keeping you here against your will, but…”

“No!” you denied, finding yourself flush with the need to deny her assumption. “I fell off the path and got attacked by an azakana. Thresh saved me and brought me here. He told me this mark would keep me safe until the month is up and I can go home.”

Ahri looked stunned, an expression you assumed she didn’t wear often. Her bright blue eyes looked from your hand that bore the purple demon mask up to your eyes before letting out a sigh. “…I didn’t expect to hear a human defending Thresh.”

What did she mean? Wait, she had mentioned history…

“Are you the one who told him he couldn’t help souls?” you accused quietly, even as your chest trembled at the idea of speaking to a spirit like this. But you had to know what she knew, had to know what had made her decide that Thresh was unworthy of the job you had seen him do perfectly with your own eyes.

“I have known Thresh for a long time,” she began wistfully. “Much longer than your people have been bringing us gifts for. We used to comfort human souls together back then.”

She looked so sad, just like Thresh had that day at the lake.

“But his care for the souls went too far. He began to see them not as mortal souls needing his guidance, but as his own children. He kept them with him, preventing them from experiencing what their souls need to learn in this world. We are here to help human souls, not cage them, and he forgot that,” she explained.

You almost felt tears come to your eyes at her words. It was clear the experience had scarred her as well.

She gave you a sad smile. “I’m relieved that he hasn’t harmed you, but you must come with me. There’s no telling how soon it will be before Thresh falls back to his old ways again.”

She didn’t seem like she was lying, but you still felt like you were being torn in two. Thresh’s face appeared in your mind, the sad expression when he talked about his past the only thing you could think about.

“…I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Ahri sounded incredulous.

“I watched him help a soul,” you said, voice unsteady. “He only did it because I told him he didn’t deserve my gifts if he didn’t. But he calmed it down so easily!”

This time Ahri stayed silent, and you took that as your approval to keep talking. “I think he regrets what he did back then. I don’t think he would hurt me, and I can’t just leave him when he still looks so sad.”

Ahri’s gaze was hard as she silently considered you. The seconds dragged on as you nervously met eyes with her, afraid you had gotten on her bad side. Thresh hadn’t flexed his authority as a spirit over you, but that didn’t mean that Ahri wouldn’t. The longer the silence stretched on, the less sure you were of anything; you weren’t sure whether to be relieved or not when she finally spoke up.

“Then… can I ask you to help him?”

“What?” you breathed.

Ahri let out an amused huff at your reaction. “You have more power than you may think. Thousands of years have passed and this is the first time Thresh has willingly left his isolation to help anyone. You may be the key to restoring his faith in himself.”

“But how could I…”

“Talk to him,” Ahri instructed. “Show him that he doesn’t need to confine souls to his side when he has others who care about him. Threaten to withhold his offerings again if you have to.”

Her grin told you she was largely joking about that last one, but that reminded you about something that had slipped your mind over the past few days.

“The gifts…!” you gasped.

Ahri grinned, showing off her sharp canines. “Already taken care of. I found your basket and brought the rest of the presents to the other spirits. I especially liked my new comb.”

You were momentarily stunned, but snapped out of it and bowed your head low. “Thank you! I don’t know what my village would have done if…”

“Raise your head,” Ahri commanded, and you stood up straight again. “I would not allow our deal to be revoked because you were attacked by azakana and unable to finish your route.”

“Still, I appreciate it,” you insisted. “I don’t want to upset spirits who got no gift while others did.”

“I’ve always watched the spirit guardians on their walks,” Ahri said. “This deal is important to us as well. The gifts you bring give us a connection to your world, and brighten our days. I have watched spirit guardians come and go, but I have never seen the spirits as happy as when they receive your gifts. Even Yone has not stopped playing the flute you gave him.”

Yone? So that was the name of the finicky spirit of the twin-bladed temple. It was a relief to know that the gift you had especially agonized over was received well.

“I did try to save you myself, but Thresh got to you first,” Ahri admitted. “With how isolated he’s been for so long, I feared what he would do with you. You are too important to us to allow anything to happen to you before it is your time.”

“Ahri…” You weren’t sure what to say. You had never thought that you would come to mean anything to the spirits here, at least not any more than anyone else who had done the job before you. You were so used to being tolerated that being appreciated felt like a foreign concept.

Ahri let out a contemplative hum. “I want to believe that you can bring Thresh back to who he used to be, but I can’t trust him just yet.”

She reached a hand up, gently removing one of the gold bells that hung on one of her hair accessories, holding the egg-sized bell out to you in her palm.

“If you need my help, just ring that bell and I’ll come,” she explained. “I will respect your wish to stay here with him, but I won’t have you here without help if you need it.”

“Thank you,” you replied nervously, reaching forward to take the bell from her palm.

“I’ll look forward to two gifts next time in return for all my hard work,” she teased, before her smile dropped in favor of a more serious look. “Just remember to be ready to get on the path when the door to your world opens again. Thresh’s protection will only last until the portal to your home is open.”

“I’ll be ready,” you promised her, even if it still felt like forever before you would be able to return to your life as it normally was.

Ahri smiled, the action lifting the pink stripes on her cheeks. “I think you can finally bring him back to us. Every spirit here will owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“Not more than I owe Thresh for saving my life,” you admitted honestly. “I’m beginning to think that the spirits have more regard for me than my own people do.”

You weren’t sure why you were being so open with someone you barely knew, much less a spirit, but deep down you suspected it was because Ahri felt like the closest thing to a female friend that you had ever had, as sad as that was to admit to yourself. For her part, Ahri didn’t seem to mind your oversharing, her smile unchanging.

“I will have to ask one more favor of you,” she said, bringing a finger up to her lips. “Don’t tell Thresh I was here. I don’t want him to be distracted by our past, so it’s better he doesn’t know that I came to talk to his little human guest.”

You weren’t so sure that hiding herself from Thresh would benefit him, but you agreed. It seemed to you that both of them cared for each other, but neither one seemed willing to make the first move. Thresh was too buried in his self-loathing, and Ahri seemed to think him seeing her again would be too painful for him. You didn’t know the full extent of their past, but it seemed to you that Thresh would benefit from knowing that other spirits cared about him. But at the same time, you had to respect Ahri’s wishes.

“…if he wanted to talk to you, would you see him?” you asked quietly.

Her blue eyes looked sad. “Of course I would, but I know he won’t want to see my face after all that’s happened between us.”

“Ahri…”

Her ears suddenly perked up and she glanced back over her shoulder quickly. “I can sense him coming back. I have to go.”

She brushed past you before turning back one more time. “I hope you can do what I couldn’t and get through to him. Remember that you hold more power than you think.”

She flashed one last smile before her form changed with a cloud of blue fire, leaving the fox with the teal tail in her place. With a farewell bark, she darted off behind the temple.

When her tail finally vanished from sight, you turned back to face the purple woods ahead of you. If what Ahri said was right, then Thresh would be coming back soon, and he would be expecting to find you inside the temple. You didn’t want to worry him, so you quickly retreated inside, closing the door behind you.

You had picked up the broom for an excuse, but had been so nervous that you had been zoning out staring at it when the front door slid open and your name was called.

You knew that he was coming back, but you were still startled when you looked up to see Thresh standing just inside the doorway, looking concerned. You straightened up, probably too straight, the broom falling from your grasp and hitting the floor with a loud thump.

How were you supposed to act now? You had hardly had any time to process what Ahri had told you, and now Thresh was here, unaware of what had transpired in the last ten minutes.

“Welcome back,” you greeted him, reaching down to pick up the fallen broom.

You looked back up at him, nervous that he would see right through you, but to your surprise, he didn’t ask questions, but instead approached you with a soft smile on his face.

“I am relieved to see you safe,” he said softly.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “You worry too much. You were only gone a few hours.”

He looked like he might continue to fret, so you changed the subject for both of your sakes. “How was the trading post?”

“It was… lively,” he answered. “I hope you did not overwork yourself cleaning my temple.”

“I didn’t do too much,” you answered, allowing yourself to relax at last; Thresh seemed the same as when he had left earlier. You shook your head, mentally scolding yourself; of course he was acting normal, he wasn’t the one struggling with the new information that you were.

What Ahri told you did make sense; you had realized pretty early on that Thresh was a lonesome spirit. Hearing that he had kept souls with him instead of letting them go on their soul’s journey had not fully surprised you, but you also hadn’t found yourself as scared as Ahri seemed to think you should be.

You only had a month in this place, was that really long enough to heal all of the pain that Thresh had collected in his heart over a lifetime? Ahri had too much faith in you, you were sure of that, but at the same time, you had meant what you had said; you didn’t want to just abandon him. He was no danger to you, this spirit that would sneeze if he even <i>saw</i> dust and was clearly more nervous around you than you were around him.

You had zoned out again, coming back to see Thresh before you, eyebrows drawn downwards in concern.

“Are you ill?” he asked, placing his ungloved hand against your forehead. “If you require–”

“I’m fine!” you insisted, backing away from his touch, his eyes widening in surprise at your reaction.

He looked a little hurt, which made you feel bad, but before you could apologize, he had moved away from you. You watched as he reached into his satchel, pulling out a small cloth package.

“I have procured you a gift. Hopefully it will help lift your spirits.”

You accepted the package, lifting the cloth folds to find four soft white balls, the sight something you hadn’t seen since your grandmother was alive. “Daifuku…”

“I have been told that they make these at human festivals,” Thresh said. “I was told these ones have strawberries inside.”

…just how your grandmother used to make them. You hadn’t even realized you were crying until the first tear fell from your chin, dripping onto the cloth in your hands. You blinked, realizing that your eyes were wet. You had really thought you had finally got over the loss of your grandmother, but seeing the strawberry daifuku, clearly wrapped and prepared with such care, brought your emotions back to where you had been that day six months ago when you had gotten the news.

Your tears had immediately frazzled Thresh, whose eyes went impossibly wide. “Are you… I should not have…”

You brought a hand up to wipe your tears away with your sleeve, sniffling maybe slightly too loudly in your efforts to rein in your sudden burst of emotion.

“It’s not your fault!” you cried out, startling both of you with your sudden volume. “It’s just… my grandmother used to make strawberry daifuku for me before she died. She was… she was the spirit guardian before me.”

Thresh quietly took in the information, staring hesitantly at you. “So you are not displeased?”

You took a further few seconds to compose yourself before replying. “No, I’m not displeased. It’s just been a lonely six months since she died, and she always made these to cheer me up when I was upset.”

“You are lonely?” Thresh inquired. “I have heard your village is quite a populated one.”

You bit your lip, his words bringing back every bad memory you had of your life growing up as the granddaughter of the spirit guardian, next in line for the position yourself. The pain of their treatment felt ten times worse now that your grandmother was not there to share the burden of social isolation with you.

You let out a sad sigh. “Could we have some tea?”

Thresh readily agreed, and soon you sat across from each other at that small table, a cup of tea in front of you, the daifuku placed in the middle of the table, yet untouched.

“I only really spent time with my grandma. The other villagers tolerate us for what we do for them, but they don’t like us. Unless they’re forced to speak to me, they just avoid me.”

“I do not understand why,” Thresh retorted, purple eyes dark with anger. “You have been here so little time, but you are already so dear to me. Your people are ignorant.”

“They’re scared,” you corrected. “They think that I hold some influence over the spirits just because I bring you gifts. They think that if they make me mad, I’ll tell you to burn their homes down or something. I’ve overheard mothers telling their children not to make eye contact with me. Even if I did have the power to make spirits do what I want, I would never use it, but it’s not like any of them would believe me if I told them that.”

Thresh’s angry look had softened into one of sadness, pity clear in his eyes. The look made you uncomfortable, not used to being looked at like that by anybody. Your grandmother had been the only person who ever listened to your worries, and now she was gone to a place far beyond your reach.

“They’ve probably noticed I’m gone by now. I assume they’re more worried about finding my replacement than my likely death,” you mused sadly. “Thanks for listening, Thresh. It’s been a long time since I had someone to talk to.”

“I know what it is like to be so… alone,” Thresh spoke softly, nail tracing along the side of his still-full teacup. “The souls are… <i>were</i> my companions. They gave me power, and they kept me company.”

You said nothing, Ahri’s words from earlier echoing in your head as you gazed at the forlorn spirit before you.

“But they were not mine to keep,” he continued. “They were by my side at the expense of their soul’s path. The loneliness I suffer is my punishment for falling to such ignoble behavior.”

“Thresh…”

“But you have done nothing to deserve to be shunned by your world,” he growled. “I do not deserve the offerings you bring, but they are unworthy of the protection this world lends them.”

“I’ve never thought about it like that before,” you admitted. “But I don’t want them to be subjected to the mountain’s dangers just because they don’t like me. And without this job, I would have nothing. I feel like it’s my last tie to my grandmother, doing what she did for so long.”

You had been staring down at the table, but looked up as Thresh’s arm came in your peripheral vision. You watched as he gently picked up a soft daifuku, setting it down in front of you. Your gaze shot up, meeting his startlingly intense violet eyes.

“You have not lost your ties to her. Souls do not cease to be when they die. When I touch a soul, I can see how they came to this place, what is most important to them. I did not encounter the soul of your grandmother, but I am sure that if I did, I would be shown your face. Your memories with her are your connection to her soul.”

You pulled back from the table, not wanting your tears to fall in your likely-lukewarm tea. His words had a strange way of seeping into your skin, your loneliness feeling less heavy on your chest as you took in his words.

It was hard not to feel alone in your empty house, in a village that feared and hated you. But here you were, with someone alike in your pain, even if your lives could not have been more different. Here you were, sharing tea and daifuku like you had done so many times with your grandmother. The memories of her didn’t have to be a burden; they could be your strength.

Thresh must think you were a bad representation of your species, crying your heart out in front of him like a baby. But when you wiped your tears and gathered up the courage to look at his face, you found it surprisingly neutral, watching you like he was hesitant to say any more.

You picked up the daifuku, taking a bite and savoring its gentle sweetness on your tongue. The taste swept you up, and soon you had finished the whole thing. Realizing you still had company, as silent as he was right now, you swallowed the last bit of daifuku before setting your palms on the table.

“Thank you,” you said. “For the daifuku, and for what you said. I don’t think I’ve felt this content in a long time.”

Your tears hadn’t fully stopped, and that combined with your smile seemed to be confusing the spirit before you, but he nodded in response, a small smile gracing his lips. “I am glad I could help ease your burden, little human.”

“Are you going to eat one?” you asked, gesturing to the daifuku.

Thresh reached forward, taking a daifuku in hand and bringing it up to his mouth, staring at it in wonder.

“Have you not had daifuku before?” you asked curiously as you reached for another one yourself.

“I do not partake in food often,” Thresh admitted. “The shopkeeper told me that this was a food humans liked to eat.”

You smiled at his thoughtfulness; it was a nice feeling to know that he had taken such care in selecting something for you that he thought you would like. Combined with the slight flush to his cheeks and his shy smile, you almost couldn’t believe he was one of the spirits you had held in awed regard for so long. He had no reason to go so out of his way to bring you a comfort from home, but in doing so, he had shown more consideration for you than anyone in your village ever had.

You would repay him for his kindness; if he could pull you out of your misery, then you would do whatever you could to do the same for him. And you only had a month here to convince him of his worth, so you would have to start soon. That night, you went to bed with hope in your heart, hope that you and Thresh were both worthy of more.

 You sat up, your bare legs being tickled by the grass you laid on. Looking around, you found yourself in a glade, surrounded by dark, gnarled trees that grew so far overhead that they blocked the sky entirely. You didn’t know what time it was, or where you were, or how you had gotten here.

You jolted forward at the sensation of something brushing against your back, a chill running up your spine at the sudden contact. You turned your head back to look, but saw nothing but the dark forest that surrounded you. A loud snarl rang out in the quiet forest, startling you and sending you curling in on yourself in fear. What was happening around you?

“I cannot see you,” came a dark growl, followed by a face appearing out of the darkness mere inches from your own.

You scrambled back with a scream, staring in terror at the large creature before you that you were horrified to realize that you recognized.

“I cannot hear you,” the demon-faced worm continued, its long body twisting around just above you. “But I can <i>smell</i> you.”

You pressed yourself back into the grass, desperate for this <i>thing</i> to not touch you in its circling in the air. There was no mistaking this demon for anything but the one that had attacked you that night in the forest. The realization brought a phantom pain to your shoulder, your memories returning to you in full.

How did you get to this place? You had been safe. Thresh told you that you were safe. Your only relief was that the demon didn’t seem to be able to see or hear you.

“I can smell your fear,” it purred sinisterly. “But it is your flesh I want. I was so close, and then your delicious fear would have been all mine.”

There was nowhere to run. The trees blocked you in, and even if there was a gap in the branches to run to, you were too scared to move and break whatever spell kept the azakana from seeing you.

“I can still taste your blood,” the azakana snarled, its wormlike body thrashing violently above you. “And I will taste it again. You cannot hide from my eyes forever, and then you will be mine to savor, to break into a thousand pieces before I devour your weak body. You will never escape your fate.”

A flash of light crashed above you and you closed your eyes, raising your arms up to shield your face. It felt like the bright light was about to be upon you, but then it all faded to black.

You sat up in bed with a gasp, breathing heavily. Looking around the familiar room, your heartbeat began to slow as you realized that it had just been an awful dream. It had felt so real; that azakana’s horrible raspy growls right next to your ear that had spoken of promises of not being done with you yet sending chills up your arms even if the safety of your room.

Immediately, you wanted to tell Thresh what had happened, but quickly reconsidered. It had been horrible, but it was just a dream. Thresh was a worrier, and you didn’t want to trouble him with something as silly as a bad dream, not when he had so much of his own problems to worry about.

Letting out a sigh, you laid back down on your side in your futon. You stared at the mountainscape painting on the wall, letting the still image relax you and bring you back to reality. You knew it was still too early to get up, so you would have to try to get back to sleep, as daunting of a task as that seemed right now. Closing your eyes, you could only hope that your impending sleep would be dreamless.

 You woke up slowly, unable to remember if you had dreamed or not, which was a vast improvement on your earlier nightmare. Feeling fully rested, you only felt more confident in your decision to keep this to yourself. Thresh had more important things to worry about than a human having a bad dream, and you supposed that today was as good a day as any to start working on that promise you had made Ahri to restore Thresh’s confidence in himself.

You began to brainstorm ideas as you did a sweep of the entry room. Since you had begun cleaning, the temple didn’t have much dirt to sweep up, but the action helped you focus on how you would get Thresh to begin helping souls again.

You doubted he would agree just because you asked him; while he had done it for that soul in turmoil, the emotional aftermath was something you thought it would be better to avoid if you wanted to make progress. But what else did that leave?

Starting slow seemed like your best bet, but how would you get him out of the temple? Stuck in here, he would likely not get any better, considering how much of a hermit he had been for so long. Setting the broom against the wall, you finally had an idea settle in your mind, as sneaky as it may be.

 “The lake of souls?” Thresh echoed, caught off guard.

You had ambushed him the moment he had come into the room, startling him with your sudden request.

“I like to bathe every day if I can,” you spoke, doing your best to sound casual so he wouldn’t suspect anything. “Would it be okay if we went back today?”

Thresh stared down at you, blinking tiredly. He tended to be sleepier in the mornings, which you were hoping would aide you in your plan. As you waited for him to reply, you took in his messy bangs and rumpled collar. You found yourself constantly surprised by how cute he was; such a difference from your initial impression.

Eventually, the half-awake spirit relented with a slow nod. “I can take you there now.”

“How about some tea first?” you suggested. “I don’t want you to doze off and fall into the lake.”

Recalling the fact that you had caught him sleeping standing up two mornings ago, Thresh agreed. “…that may be wise.”

He allowed you to force some morning tea on him, and was considerably more awake when you both set out. As you followed him down the forest path, you began to appreciate his demonic form as well, the purple of his skin contrasting beautifully with the violet of the trees all around you.

You would have to start slow, but you were already running into problems. What would be a happy medium between doing nothing and pushing him at a soul and telling him to deal with it? You knew that getting him to talk to Ahri would likely be good for both of them, but that would probably require a lot of convincing both of them to agree. Ahri didn’t seem confident that Thresh could change so easily, so you would have to show her that he was worth redemption before you got her to meet him again.

You had been probably too deep in your thoughts, so deep that you hadn’t noticed that you had arrived at the lake until Thresh was in front of you, leaning towards your face with a worried expression.

You quickly stepped back, embarrassed by both his sudden closeness and your own lack of paying attention to your surroundings. Giving yourself a moment to calm down, you looked from Thresh to the waters behind him, just as beautiful as they had been yesterday. The sight focussed you; you couldn’t let this chance go to waste, even as uncertain as you felt.

“Um, Thresh…?” you spoke up, nerves doubling when he looked at you curiously with his white eyes. “How often do souls appear here?”

Thresh turned to look out at the water as he considered your question. “It is more frequent at times of strife and war in your world, but otherwise it remains steady. Although the flow of death may have changed in my absence of duties.”

“Do you want to try again?” you asked carefully. “Like the last time we were here?”

“I…” He sounded conflicted, posture too stiff. “If I repeat the same mistakes–”

You stayed silent until he finally looked back at you, finding yourself shocked by the tears pooling unshed in his eyes. “How can I know that I will not give into my cursed loneliness again? If I were to accept my role and then fail again… I am afraid I will not survive another fall.”

Thresh let out a low exhale, closing his eyes for a short moment before reopening them, his eyes no longer watery, but expression still plainly sad.

“I know it’s not much, but I’m here now,” you offered. “So you won’t be lonely while I’m here with you.”

Thresh looked surprised, his eyebrows raising as he stared at you in disbelief. But you could still see the reluctance on his face; as much as you wanted to help him, it would be hard to fix so many lifetimes full of trauma. Just when you were ready to hear his rejection again, an idea came to you, and you couldn’t help but cut off Thresh’s about-to-be-spoken words in your excitement.

“One soul a day!” you exclaimed as soon as the idea hit you.

“You…”  Thresh seemed confused, which was fair considering you had just shouted words in his face with no context.

“One soul a day,” you repeated, holding up one finger before him. “What if you help one soul every day? I’ll be here to keep you from getting lonely, and if it’s too difficult, you can stop, but just try one a day… please?”

“One soul a day,” he muttered to himself, running one hand up his other arm as if trying to stave off a chill.

“I’m right here,” you insisted. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

You could see the hope in his face. You could see how close he was to agreeing, but he was still holding himself back. Why was he still resisting?

“Please, Thresh,” you appealed to him one more time, unable to keep the emotions you were feeling out of your voice. “You can really help these souls. If it were me… if it was my grandmother’s soul, I would feel better knowing someone like you was here to greet her when she came here.”

“If it were you…” he considered with a soft sigh. “I suppose I cannot abandon these souls if they have left someone like you behind.”

“Thank you!” you cried out in relief, surging forward to wrap your arms around him in a hug.

Feeling him stiffen immediately, you pulled back as you realized what it was you had just done. You had been so overjoyed that it had overwhelmed you, or at least that was the only reasoning you could come up with.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking–”

“No, you have done nothing to offend me,” Thresh denied awkwardly, skin noticeably pink even as his lips formed a small, shy smile. “I did not mind your contact at all.”

You felt your own face warm as you stared at Thresh’s happy blushing face, a realization crashing onto you. Nobody your age in your village really talked to you, but you had taken notice of boys your age, wishing they would talk to you while knowing that they never would. But staring at Thresh now…

“…actually, I rather enjoyed your embrace,” he admitted, shocking you with his openness.

You quickly looked down, nails biting into your palms at your sides. This was more than you had ever felt for any cute boy you had admired from afar in your village, more than any emotions you had felt when reading romantic stories in books your grandmother had bought you. This spirit in front of you who did not rebuff your contact, but instead seemed to welcome it had developed a closer place in your heart than any of the people in the village that your duties protected, and you didn’t know what to do now that you realized how your feelings were changing.

You were too scared to confront the feelings inside you, so you opted for the easy way out. “So when do you think a soul will appear?”

 Thresh had handled the soul perfectly that day, if not slightly more nervously than the first time you had seen him do it. You had stood by his side as he had called the soul to him, taking it into his lantern and then releasing it. You could tell he had hesitated when letting the spirit go, but he had done it without complaint, even though you knew his mind was likely on his past as he did so.

You had been surprised to return to Thresh’s temple that day to see that one of the lanterns that floated in the river around the temple was now lit with a bright purple light. You hadn’t been the only one who was surprised; Thresh had stared openly in awe of the lit lantern, something he then told you he had not seen in hundreds of years.

You began to notice a pattern. Every day when you returned from the lake, a new lantern had lit up. The lights were exciting to look at in the daytime, but were downright mesmerizing at night, vibrant purple light drifting gently on the water. As the days passed and more lanterns came alight, you and Thresh began to take your evening tea outside.

“It’s so beautiful,” you said after taking a sip of your tea. “We don’t have anything like this in my village. Not unless you believe the rumors about what it looks like at the top of Mount Targon.”

“I have grown so used to this sight that it becomes hard to appreciate it,” Thresh mused. “But sitting here with you, it feels like I am seeing this world anew.”

“I felt the same way after I nearly died,” you replied. “This world has always amazed me, but after you saved me, I’ve gotten to see so many new sides of this place. You would think it would scare me to be here after I was attacked, but I don’t feel scared at all.”

“…not even of me?” Thresh asked quietly. “Nobody would blame you would fleeing at the first chance you got from a fiend like I. I admit I was pleasantly surprised to return from the trading post to find you still here.”

You turned from the lanterns to face Thresh, his expression neutral, but eyes wavering like he was anticipating a rejection.

“How could I be scared of you?” you countered. “You’ve been kinder to me than anyone. And you’re not really scary, not unless you have your gold mask on.”

“…oh,” was Thresh’s muted response.

You couldn’t help a quiet laugh. He was so hard on himself. It was no wonder it was like pulling teeth to get him to agree to your one-soul-a-day plan. He had been alone for so long, with not even himself to believe in him.

You knew that you were maybe putting yourself too out there as you leaned your head against his shoulder. “I wouldn’t have survived here without you. And I don’t just mean you rescuing me. Your company has been the biggest blessing I’ve received in a long time, Thresh.”

He didn’t respond, so you made to move your head from his shoulder to look at his face, but were stopped by a gentle hand on the back of your head.

“Could I ask you to stay like this, little human? Just for a bit longer?”

You hummed quietly, leaning into his side as his hand instead began to gently run over your hair, the glow of the lanterns illuminating the softly-flowing water before you.

 Your plan to slowly adapt Thresh to handling souls again had been going well; every day a new lantern lit up, and he was able to maintain his humanlike form outside the temple for longer and longer. No matter how much you tried to reassure him that you didn’t find his demonic form off-putting, he still seemed insistent to be in his “prettier” form as much as he could around you.

You knew he didn’t make the same effort when he wasn’t around you; every time he went on a run to the trading post, you saw him drop his humanlike form when he hit the trees and didn’t think your eyes were still on him. It had to have been a drain on him to stay in his purple-haired form as long as he could, but he never complained. You had come to find both of his forms… attractive, in their own respective ways, but it wasn’t like you could just openly tell him that. He was a spirit and you were a human, and besides that, your time here was limited.

You had been trying not to think about it, but your time here was almost up. You had three days left before you would go back to your usual life, a thought which only felt more painful considering the taste you had gotten of a better life, one where you weren’t some pariah. But you said nothing of your worries to Thresh; if you wanted to help him, you had to be strong and face the end of your time together with a smile on your face.

You had finally realized the extent of your feelings for Thresh, back a week ago sitting at the river’s edge with your head on his shoulder. At first you had dismissed the butterflies in your stomach as nothing more than situational; of course you would feel like this, he was the only man to ever really interact on a meaningful level with you, anyone in your situation would feel the same way. You told yourself that again and again, but it didn’t feel right. Eventually, you were forced to confront the truth; you weren’t feeling this way because he was a man who bothered to talk to you, you were feeling like this because he was the man he was.

He hadn’t offered you his shoulder since that night, but that didn’t mean that he was pulling away from you; in fact, it was quite the opposite. He seemed to have an incessant need to be close to you, and had insisted on holding your hand every day on your walks to and from the lake. You were unable to refuse the contact, as much as you knew it would hurt you in the end when you had to leave. Whenever he smiled that wide, toothy smile at you, you were putty in his hands.

You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from him, so you allowed yourself to just enjoy his closeness for now, even if the impending end to your time together was slowly burning a hole in your chest. But even if you wanted to forget how little time you had left here, you couldn’t. You still had one more thing you had to do.

Thresh had gone on what was to be the last supply run while you were still here, promising to bring back a special tea he had heard about as well as more daifuku. You watched him go, waiting until you could no longer see his figure before you enacted your plan.

You soon wouldn’t be here to keep Thresh company, so you needed to make sure someone was. And given your limited interactions with other spirits in this world, the choice was easy to make.

It was obvious that Ahri cared about Thresh, but not to the detriment of the souls. But he had come so far, and you needed Ahri to see that. If you wanted to return Thresh to his former glory, her support would be vital.

You hadn’t seen her again since that day, but you had a feeling that she was still keeping an eye out for you. You knew that neither of them would reach out to each other on their own, their shame and pride too much for them to overcome by themselves, so you would take things into your own hands.

You retreated back to your room, snatching up the scroll and writing brush Thresh had given you when you had expressed an interest in drawing to help pass the time. Tearing off a section of the scroll, you began to write a letter to Ahri, asking her to come to the lake tomorrow at mid-morning.

After the ink had dried, you folded the note in half before making your way to the area behind the temple where you had spoken to Ahri before. Bending down, you placed the folded paper on the ground, then placing a large rock on top of it to keep it from fleeing with the wind.

Once the note was secured, you stood back up, looking out over the forest. If you had been on your spirit walk, you would have continued walking into the forest and onto the next temple, but right now was anything but an ordinary visit to the spirit world. You were having a hard time remembering which spirit’s temple was after Thresh’s on your route… was it the one with the arrow? Or maybe the one with the antlers carved into their pedestal?

Either way, you couldn’t see much of anything in the forest behind the temple. You knew it would be too much to hope to see a small fox lingering around, but you would have to trust that she would find the note and agree to meet you tomorrow. You knew that she wanted to see Thresh performing his duties as he once had, so you hoped that her curiosity of what could be would compel her to accept your invitation. She seemed to have faith in you, so you hoped that she still trusted your judgment.

There was no point standing out here, not knowing when Ahri would even come by, but you had never seen Thresh come back here, so you knew the note would be safe from anyone but Ahri finding it. So it was back inside for you to work on the idle work; Thresh had gotten you some new clothing to wear after noticing your discomfort with your blood-stained ceremonial robes, and you had been slowly trying to repair the stained and ripped clothing. Maybe you could finally sew up the hole in the shoulder before Thresh returned from the trading post.

The next day, you were walking with Thresh to the lake, trying not to let all of your worries show on your face, but it was hard not to think about all of the events that would soon be upon you. This would be your one and only chance to get Ahri and Thresh to make up, at least while you were still here. And more troubling still, today would be your last full day here; at ten o’clock tomorrow night, you would step back onto the silver path and leave this place behind for your regular life. Somehow the thought of walking through this place as spirit guardian sent sadness coursing through you, since when you walked the silver path again, you would no longer be able to see Thresh.

But you wouldn’t let Thresh know of your dour thoughts, putting a smile on your face as you talked about what a nice day it was, although that didn’t mean that your eyes didn’t begin to fervently scan the area once you arrived at the lake.

You were not as subtle as you thought, as Thresh turned his head to look back at the patch of trees you were currently eyeing.

“Does something trouble you? The azakana should not–”

“No, it’s nothing!” you quickly denied. “No azakana, just…”

Then you caught sight of something over Thresh’s shoulder, a fluffy-tailed little creature emerging from the bushes. This was it. You could feel your heart rate pick up considerably, your palms feeling sweaty as you felt the pressure for this to go well.

Why had you put off telling him until now? It just made things harder. But you couldn’t lie to yourself; every time you had wanted to warn him, he had looked at you with those soft eyes and you had chickened out.

In truth, you were scared. Even thinking of Ahri seemed to send Thresh’s mood downward, so how was he going to react when he found out that you had gone behind his back and met her, had invited her here now? It was selfish, but you just wanted to enjoy the rest of the time you had left until you had to tell him. You knew he would have every reason to cast you out early over this betrayal, but at the same time, it had to be done. You couldn’t continue to be selfish with such important things at stake.

“Thresh, there’s something I have to tell you,” you said, forcing each word out almost against your will.

“Are you alright?” he asked with a frown, one hand raising to cup your cheek. “If something is ailing you, I will–”

“I’m okay,” you said, trying to keep yourself together. “But there’s something you need to know. I met with Ahri.”

Thresh froze, his hand cold against your skin. Ahri had emerged fully from the brush by this point, but did not come any closer, her eyes on the scene before her. Turning your focus back to the spirit before you, you found Thresh staring down at you, waiting for an explanation, the pain in his face making you feel like you had thorns in your heart.

“The first time you left for the trading post, she came to see me. She was worried… worried that you would do the same thing with me that you used to do with souls.”

Thresh looked down, hand dropping from your cheek like you had burned him. His pulling away saddened you, but you had to keep going.

“I told her you weren’t like that anymore!” you exclaimed. “I told her that you’re a good person, Thresh. That you just needed help to restore your faith in yourself.”

“She told you about me?” Thresh’s voice was so quiet that it was hard to hear. “What I used to be… I had hoped you would never know. I fear I could not take your rejection too.”

You had expected anger, not this almost tangible sadness. Thresh’s breathing was shuddered, the spirit shrinking in on himself, unwilling to meet your eyes. He looked broken, and the sight hurt your heart so much that you found yourself reaching out to him, laying your hand over the cold metal of his golden jaw mask, fingers brushing against the purple skin of his face.

“I don’t care who you used to be,” you spoke, hoping your words would be enough to reach him. “I care about who you are now, Thresh. These past weeks I have seen a spirit who is more than worthy of taking care of human souls, and I wanted Ahri to see too. You’re both hurting, and I just wanted you to understand each other for once.”

“I can’t say I expected to see you like this, Thresh,” Ahri said, now in her shifted form as she walked towards you.

“Ahri…” Thresh pulled back from you to turn and face her.

“It’s been a long time,” she greeted. “But she’s right. This talk has been long overdue.”

“I am not…”

“Please, Thresh, just listen to her,” you implored him, taking his hand back in yours.

Thresh whispered your name, staring down at your joined hands for a long moment before relenting. “…very well.”

“Glad to see you listen to someone,” Ahri grinned, holding up her hands in mock surrender when faced with Thresh’s grumpy frown in response. “I’ve been wanting to talk with you for quite a while, but it didn’t feel right since I was the reason for our falling out.”

“You have done nothing I did not deserve, I know that now,” Thresh replied. “I do not deserve this duty, not when I am so weak to fall prey to my own wretched loneliness.”

“I’ve made mistakes too,” Ahri said. “I never realized that you felt like that, not until it was too late. We spirits have a responsibility to the souls of the dead, but we cannot forsake each other in the name of performing our duty. I failed you, Thresh, as a fellow spirit and as a friend.”

“I thought…” Thresh trailed off.

“Don’t get me wrong, you deserved the lecture I gave you,” Ahri said, voice light despite her harsh words. “But that little human of yours has made me realize that I can’t hold your past against you forever.”

A small splash had your collective attentions turning to the lake, where a new soul had appeared on the surface of the water, a gray-purple in color. It was lacking the furor of the first soul you had seen had, which Thresh had told you indicated that this was an expected death, the soul free of distress, but still needing guidance.

Thresh hadn’t moved, so you tried to urge him into action with a squeeze of his hand. His fingers clutched back at yours reflexively, reluctant white eyes sliding down to meet yours. You stared deeply into his eyes, trying to convey your confidence in him without words.

Then, as one final attempt. “Please.”

Thresh sighed, but it didn’t sound sad, instead having the tone of a parent indulging a child’s whim. “It seems I am unable to deny you anything.”

You let your hands slip apart, your attention moving back to Ahri as you suddenly remembered that she was there as well, much to your embarrassment. You were surprised to see her looking your way with a bittersweet smile on her face, her expression shifting to careful neutrality when she noticed that your eyes were on her.

Thresh approached the water’s edge, just like he had done every day for the past couple of weeks, beckoning the soul towards him. Your attention was split between watching him and looking at Ahri’s face for any clues on how she was feeling.

The air grew noticeably tense as the soul reached Thresh’s outstretched hand. Despite your faith in Thresh, you still held your breath as you watched him interact with the soul, waiting for him to release it into the air as he had done every time before. Looking over at Ahri, you found her just as tense as you if not more so, her jaw tight and body rigid as if she was expecting to spring into action at any moment.

Just as you began to feel like you couldn’t take your heightened nerves any longer, the soul passed through Thresh’s lantern before releasing into the air. The tension finally broke, and your body sagged forward in relief like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“You were right,” Ahri whispered, her bright blue eyes still on Thresh. “I never thought I would see him like this again.”

“Will you… help him? After I go back to my village?” you whispered back.

Ahri sighed. “I’ll have to. I can’t imagine he’ll be feeling very well after you leave.”

“What?”

Ahri turned to you with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve been here for five minutes and I can see how he looks at you. How much he trusts you.”

“Ahri…”

Then Thresh turned back to you and the moment was broken. He looked so relieved that the questions you had for Ahri vanished from your mind. He was able to maintain his purple-haired form all the way back over to you, before his power waned again and his pale skin bled to vibrant purple again.

You wanted to congratulate him, to offer some words to let him know how proud you were of him, but the words again died as you met his eyes, saw his happy grin. But as happy as you were for him, his smile also made you feel hollow inside as the thought occurred to you that you wouldn’t be seeing it any more after tomorrow. The only man you had ever… ever <i>loved</i>, and you were about to lose him forever.

A sob tore from your throat, tears overflowing from your eyes and trailing down your cheeks. You cursed yourself, knowing you were ruining this important moment for Thresh, yet you were unable to stop the tears from coming.

Thresh cried out your name, rushing forward until he was stopped by Ahri stepping between the two of you.

“Do not get in my way, Ahri,” Thresh seethed, agitated.

“Stand down,” Ahri stressed gently. “I don’t need you making things worse with your worrying.”

“She is in pain, and I have vowed to protect her–”

“From <i>azakana</i>,” Ahri interrupted. “This time, let me help her. She needs a woman’s advice right now.”

“But–”

“It’s okay, Thresh,” you chimed in, desperately wiping at your wet eyes. You really didn’t want him to see you like this, crying over the inevitable. “Ahri’s right, it’s just… a girl issue.”

“We’re at the lake anyways,” Ahri said. “We’ll have a bath and talk and then I’ll bring her back to your temple. Does that work for you, sir protector?”

“A bath?” Thresh pouted.

“Don’t be jealous,” Ahri teased. “And besides, she still has your mark. You would know if anything happens to her in my care.”

“Thresh?” Your quiet voice turned his focus back to you, though he still looked sulky. “Could we have some of that new tea you bought when I get back?”

It took a few seconds, but eventually he nodded. “Of course.”

“You can stop worrying. I’ll take care of your precious human,” Ahri said with a grin. “Now, go. We have some girl time to start.”

Thresh levelled a stern look at Ahri, who didn’t bat an eye, but stepped out of the way at last to allow him access to you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Ahri,” you said. “But I wanted her to see that you could do this for herself.”

“I am not upset with you,” Thresh replied. “You have pulled me out of the darkness that has been suffocating me for too long. I only worry for you now... are you truly alright? I do not like to see your tears.”

“I’m okay,” you insisted. “Sorry I keep crying in front of you, but Ahri’s right, it’s just a girl issue.”

You felt bad stretching the truth, but you didn’t want to worry Thresh any more than you already had. Thankfully he accepted your explanation without much further trouble, but that didn’t mean he didn’t continue looking over his shoulder at you every few seconds for his entire walk back into the forest.

You and Ahri were silent as you watched him go, with you offering him a smile to reassure him every time he turned his head back to look until he was out of sight.

When he was gone at last, Ahri turned to you with a playful eye roll. “He’s so overprotective.”

“Um, I…” You weren’t sure what to say, but your cheeks felt too warm.

Ahri began to untie her obi, letting the garment fall to the ground and raising an eyebrow at your confused stare. “I wasn’t kidding about the bath. I’ve been needing a good soak after all the stress this month.”

You nodded, following her lead and undressing and getting into the crystal water with her. Ahri leaned back, closing her eyes and letting her tails fan out in the water.

You leaned back as well, dunking your hair in the water; if you were here, you might as well take the opportunity to wash yourself. Neither of you spoke, just enjoying the cool water, until Ahri finally broke the silence.

“I’ll have my hands full after tomorrow night,” she said. “Thresh is going to be even worse than he was all those years ago after he loses you.”

“But he still has you,” you protested.

“You really don’t get it?” she countered. “Nobody here could reach him, not until you came along. You mean more to him than a thousand human souls. And I can see you feel the same way for him as he does for you.”

“What does it matter?” you replied, knowing you were owning up to her allegations. “What can I do when we only have one more day together? It will only hurt worse if I tell him my feelings and then we have to part forever. I don’t want to hurt him more.”

Ahri sighed. “But what about you? You don’t think he cares if you’re hurting?”

“I’m used to it,” you dismissed with a sad smile. “Loneliness is expected with the life I live. I learned long ago that there was nothing I could do to change people’s minds about me. But Thresh talked to me, he let me experience what it was like to feel like someone cares… that is enough for me.”

Ahri was silent for a long moment. “Fine. I see you have your mind made up, but just remember where the ones who care about you truly are.”

 The talk with Ahri had really helped you calm down, and had solidified your feelings about the rest of your time with Thresh. Even if he did feel for you like you did for him like she had said, there was no point in doing anything about it right before you were to be parted forever. Just spending time with him the same way you had been was enough; then both of you would not suffer more in the end.

Thresh had long since prepared the special tea by the time you had got back and had been waiting in the entryway like a dog that missed its owner. You were grateful that Ahri had helped you calm down enough to simply enjoy the time you had left with Thresh, even spending that evening at the river’s edge again, Thresh insistently maneuvering your head onto his shoulder. You knew that you would remember this night for the rest of your life. But the moment could not stretch on forever, much as you would have liked it to, and soon your time here was coming to its end.

You had both been trying to act normal all day the next day, like you weren’t being slowly suffocated by the reality that you would soon have to part. You had drawn out that evening’s teatime long after the tea was drank and the daifuku was eaten. Only when it was half an hour to ten did you finally acknowledge the inevitable, returning to your room for the last time to don your ceremonial clothing for your return to your village.

Would they fear you even more now that you had survived the unsurvivable? It wasn’t like they could avoid you much more than they already did.

An unfamiliar weight as you pulled your skirt on had you reaching into your pocket to pull out the bell Ahri had gifted you at the end of your first meeting. At first, you considered giving it to Thresh to return to her, but selfishly decided against it. Ahri was very astute, so you had no doubt that she realized you still had the bell and seemed fine to let you keep it. And as sad as you would be to think of this place come tomorrow, you couldn’t help but grasp onto this physical reminder of your time here, even if Ahri’s promise of help would not extend to your world as well.

Stowing the bell back in your pocket, you fixed your outfit into place. You had long since repaired the hole in the shoulder, but you had never quite been fully successful in removing the bloodstains from the white garments. You would likely have to replace them with new robes when you got back.

Your steps to the entryway where Thresh was waiting felt so heavy, the air around you like walking through sand, as if your sad reluctance was palpable. But this was your role in life. You would have to just be grateful that you were given the time here that you were.

Entering the front room, you found Thresh standing near the door, his long ears drooped in the way they always were when he was upset. You wished you could do something to help him feel better, but it was hard when you were feeling the same way that he was right now.

“I’m ready,” you said, drawing his attention to you. “Though my bloody clothes will probably give the people in my village a scare.”

“You look beautiful,” Thresh replied softly, sending warmth to your cheeks with his unexpected compliment.

You managed to stutter out a thank you before following Thresh out to the front of the temple, the trees looking very similar under the moonlight as they had that night one month ago when this had all begun.

You knew that you had very little time left, your tongue feeling like lead in your mouth. What could you possibly say to convey everything you were feeling? No words felt like enough right now.

Thresh stepped towards you, quickly taking you into his arms in a tight hug. He seemed determined to maintain his humanlike form until the last possible second, which you let him have without complaint. You didn’t care what form he took, they had both become so precious to you.

“My sweet little human, I will miss you more than you know,” he murmured above your head, holding you close.

“I’ll miss you too… so much,” you replied, still unwilling to completely bare your soul to him. It would be easier for you both this way. You knew it would.

“My tea will taste bitter again,” Thresh added, voice wavering. “This place will feel empty again without you.”

“You’ll see me again,” you said tearfully. “You’ll be here to greet my soul when it arrives here, won’t you?”

“That is not enough,” Thresh retorted miserably. “I want to see your face every day. I want to hear your voice call my name. I do not want to guide your soul in death, I want you here with me in life. No soul will ever have the same worth to me as your living one.”

“Thresh,” you sobbed against his chest. “I don’t want to go, but I have to. I have to…”

“My beautiful human,” Thresh addressed you, pulling back from the hug to look down at you. “May I ask for one final indulgence from you?”

He leaned down towards you, clearly laying his feelings on the table the closer his lips got to yours.

“Please,” you whispered, closing your eyes. You had not expected this, but found yourself wanting so desperately to kiss Thresh. One kiss to remember him by as long as you lived.

You waited, feeling him close the gap, when you were startled by a spark of feeling in your hand, like you had been zapped by lightning.

You weren’t given a second to react before you were violently yanked from the ground and into the air. Letting out a terrified scream, you watched Thresh get farther and farther away the higher into the air you rose.

Your arms and legs constricted, you were only able to move your head to look at your captor, the blood freezing in your veins at the familiar multi-horned face that loomed maliciously over you.

“You could not hide forever,” the azakana hissed. “I will not be denied the taste of your flesh and blood.”

You heard an anguished cry of your name, looking back down to see Thresh below you on the ground, his form reverted back to his demonlike form.

“Release her!” he seethed, shocking you with the rage in his voice. He had removed his hook from his belt and was holding it up as if ready to strike.

“You have no power here,” the azakana taunted. “If you strike me, she will fall. Either way, your puny human will die.”

“Thresh!” you shouted, the azakana squeezing you tighter in its wormlike body in response, your body burning in pain.

Thresh shouted your name again, sounding increasingly more desperate as the azakana stared haughtily down at him.

You could see the silver path now, winding around the temple. You had dreaded that sight all of today, but now it felt miles away. As you were constricted tighter and tighter in the azakana’s hold, everything began to fade farther away. The only thing you could focus on was the anguish on Thresh’s face, the sheer powerlessness of your situation clear.

“You will die!” Thresh seethed. “You hurt her, and you will perish as well!”

“Then I will have a good last meal,” the azakana countered. “Her tasty fear will keep me satisfied in the darkness of death.”

Your hands were pressed tightly to your sides painfully tightly, one hand pressing against a hard lump at your side. You were lamenting the pain from the mystery lump until it hit you; Ahri’s bell was still in your pocket. She had promised help, though you doubted she expected you to use it like this, but you were beyond desperate.

Wiggling a hand up and into your pocket, you gritted your teeth against the severe pain in your body as you clasped your fingers around the bell, shaking it as much as you could given your current movement restrictions.

“Please, Ahri, please!” you begged quietly, the azakana’s cruel laughter ringing out above your head, black spots starting to dot your vision from your prolonged constraint.

You couldn’t hear the bell make any noise, but shook it in your closed fist until your hand felt too numb to move. You were wheezing, trying desperately to breathe, about to pass out when you were forced to close your eyes to avoid being blinded by a bright flash of light.

The azakana’s body curled ever tighter around you, and then that pressure loosened all at once, restoring your lost breath to your aching body. Looking over at the source of the bright light, you saw a figure with snow white skin and hair, bright teal tails flared out behind her.

Ahri did not waste a second, charging at the demon again, her foxfire burning a hole through the monster, who shrieked in pain as it was cleaved in two by Ahri’s fierce attacks. The creature was dead, but that left you high in the air with a worm demon’s body that was about to uncurl and send you plummeting to your death.

“Thresh!” Ahri yelled, her voice distorted with a ferocity you hadn’t known she had in her.

The dead azakana’s body went limp and you slipped from its grip, quickly falling towards the ground. You stared at the coming ground, terror chilling your sore limbs as you fell closer and closer to your death.

Suddenly you were surprised by a shout of your name, followed by an object appearing in your field of vision. As you fell closer to it, you realized that it looked familiar, quickly recognizing it as Thresh’s lantern.

“Take hold of it!” Thresh shouted, and you did your best to obey, shifting your body in the air to reach out for the lantern with the last of your strength.

You were barely able to make it, the tips of your fingers just grazing the ethereal lantern, but the effect was immediate. Like an elastic pulled to its limit, you were instantly snapped through the air, landing harmlessly against Thresh’s body.

Thresh’s arms were tight around you as you sunk into his body, feeling boneless with relief.

“I feared I would lose you to that demon,” Thresh spoke quietly. “I could do nothing, I–”

“You pulled me to safety. I wouldn’t call that nothing,” you replied against his chest.

“But you were hurt…” he protested.

“You sure know how to attract trouble,” came Ahri’s voice from behind you.

You turned around, still in Thresh’s arms as he refused to let you go. You watched as Ahri’s all-white form faded, replaced by her usual appearance.

“Ahri, thank you!” you exclaimed, doing your best to bow to her with Thresh’s arms still stubbornly wrapped around your waist.

“Well, I gave you that bell for a reason,” she replied. “I’m just glad I got here in time.”

“I owe you–”

“You owe me nothing,” she replied dismissively. “I was just repaying the debt that this world owes you for returning Thresh to us.”

“Still,” you protested. “You liked that inari sushi I brought before, I can bring you more next month!”

“No,” Ahri declined sternly. “I have something different I want from you… stay here.”

“Stay?” you echoed. “But my village…”

“Your village does not appreciate what they have,” Ahri argued. “I won’t allow you to return to those ingrates when you have people here who want you to stay.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

Ahri smirked. “I’ve talked to the other spirits and they all agree. We would like to offer to make you one of us, but I’m afraid we require the consent of one more spirit… Thresh?”

You felt Thresh go rigid behind you. “I give my consent.”

“That was fast!” Ahri laughed. “But there you have it. Become one of us.”

“But the deal with my village…” you weakly disputed, despite your heart singing at the offer.

“The deal is over,” she answered. “We will not harm the village, but they will no longer be under our protection. They will find a way to coexist with the mountain, or they will die, but they must find their own way now.”

She was right, and both of you knew it. Why were you so determined to go back to a place that couldn’t care less if you lived or died. If you took her offer, then you could stay here with Thresh. It was all you wanted, but you were struggling to make that choice and be selfish for once in your life.

“You’ve lived for them for too long,” Ahri said. “It’s time that you lived for yourself.”

You took a deep breath as you stared at her outstretched hand. If you took her offer, then you would never return to your village again, but thinking about it now, that knowledge felt like a relief. You could live amongst people who actually cared about you, the happiness that realization brought almost indescribable. With one decision, you would sever ties with your former way of life, and you found yourself excitedly reaching out for Ahri’s hand, a satisfied skin on her face as her nails bit slightly against the skin of your palm.

A light surrounded your joined hands, followed by a gentle warmth on the back of your hand in the same spot that had held your mark of protection from Thresh. Pulling your hand back, you now found that it beheld a beautiful pink flower that seemed to glow supernaturally under the moonlight.

“It’s done,” Ahri announced happily. “You belong to this world now. And with your new level of power, the azakana will keep away.”

You looked behind her to the large azakana corpse that was still laid over the temple grounds, its upper half partially-submerged in the river that separated Thresh’s temple from the forest.

“Go ahead, touch its body,” Ahri instructed, sending a stern look Thresh’s way so he would finally let you out of his arms.

Ahri gave you a nod, smiling smugly as you took hesitant steps forward and coming to a stop before the lower section of the creature’s body. Looking quickly back to Ahri for confirmation, you reached out and quickly tapped the corpse with your fingers before pulling your hand back.

Instantly, the body began to disintegrate, a pink fire burning along both ends of its body until it was no more, your memories the only indication that it had ever been here at all.

“And that’s what will happen to any azakana that dares to touch you,” Ahri boasted. “Now, I think it’s time I left you two alone. We can save the introductions to the other spirits for another time.”

With a wink, she reverted to her fox form before darting across the bridge and into the trees. As you watched her go, you realized that the silver path wasn’t there anymore. This was it, you were finally free.

A soft call of your name had you turning back to Thresh, who was staring at you like you were the moon itself. You took slow steps towards him, quickly picking up your pace to sprint into his arms.

“I can stay!” you cried, wrapping your arms tightly around him. Pulling slightly back from the embrace, you looked up at him with a teasing grin. “Does this mean your tea will taste good again?”

You barely had a second’s warning before Thresh’s lips were on yours. You let out a surprised moan, eyes fluttering closed to enjoy the sensation.

While you didn’t mind Thresh’s demonic form, the gold jaw armor he wore was a different story as it cut into your skin. Pulling back to a kiss-dazed Thresh, you held up a hand to stop him from going in for another kiss, tapping the metal of his jaw mask.

“I had not realized… I have gotten so used to my mask that I forgot,” Thresh admitted.

“It’s fine,” you replied. “Let’s go back inside so you can shift into your other form and we can keep kissing.”

Thresh could not comply fast enough.

You had barely gotten inside before Thresh took you into his arms, leaving you scrambling to grab onto his vest to steady yourself.

“I would have never thought that I could keep you,” Thresh spoke warmly. “It was too much to hope that you would feel the same way as I do.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you countered as Thresh strolled to the back hall. “I didn’t want to go, but I felt like I had to. But Ahri is right, my place is here, with you.”

Thresh grinned happily as he stopped in front of a door halfway down the hallway; his room. You were filled with curiosity as he shifted you around in his arms so he could open the door. You had never even caught a glimpse of Thresh’s room, not wanting to invade his privacy, so this would be your first time seeing it.

The moment he stepped inside, the room lit up with a gentle purple-tinted glow from an assortment of small orbs on the ceiling. The room was not lavish by any means, a large bed sat in the center alongside a chest of drawers. On the wall was a mountainscape painting not unlike yours, but this one was darker, like a mountain at night, the painting dotted with small circles of light that reminded you of souls.

As Thresh placed you down on the futon, you noticed something on top of the drawers. “Is that… my fan?”

Atop the drawers sat a fan, decorated with flowers of varying purples that you had painted on yourself. That had been among the first gifts you had delivered, back seven months ago now.

You looked from the fan to Thresh, who looked back at you with fondness in his eyes. “In my isolation, the gifts were my only joy, yours more so than any I have received before.”

“Thresh…” You hadn’t thought you could like him any more, but seeing how he had taken such care of the gifts you had brought him made your heart warm all over again.

Thresh joined you on the futon, leaning down until his face was inches from your own.

“My dear human,” Thresh whispered, bringing a hand up to your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Would you allow me just one more indulgence?”

You leaned your face into his palm, part of you wanting to shy away, but the larger part of you wanting this so badly that you couldn’t bear to wait one more second. “Please.”

Thresh readily locked lips with you again, laying your body down on the futon and quickly covering you with his own body, all while refusing to break the kiss. You were quickly becoming overwhelmed by the intensity of his kisses, letting out a moan as his tongue finally brushed against your own.

You weren’t sure what to do with your hands, settling with pressing them against his bare chest. His long side bangs draped down over you, tickling the skin at the collar of your shirt, his sudden warmth making your long clothing feel suffocating.

“My clothes,” you panted, pulling back from the kiss. “Take them off.”

Thresh stared down at you, want in his eyes as he reached down to untie the knots that held your top together. However, it quickly became clear that Thresh was unused to the working of shirts, maybe due to not wearing one himself for so long, as the ties on your shirt seemed to mystify him.

“Just rip it off,” you whined, trying not to laugh at him or the cute look of intense focus on his face. “Now that I’m staying, it’s not like I need these robes anymore.”

Thresh’s eyes flashed, and with one quick motion, his nails split your shirt, skirt and underwear down the middle with a rip that was faster than your eyes could follow.

“…I apologize,” he said, cheeks pink. “Your words always seem to overpower my reason.”

Peeling away your now-ruined clothing, Thresh rested one hand on your breast, cupping it gently with his palm. His touch sent a visible shiver through your hypersensitive skin, your reaction giving Thresh the confidence to touch you more boldly, leaning down to get his mouth on your breasts.

You squirmed under him, his attention to your breasts sending pulses of heat to the apex of your thighs. Your wandering hand drifted up to take a gentle hold on the longer of his horns, Thresh letting out a deep groan against your breasts at the contact.

Raising your other hand to his smaller horn, Thresh was finally forced to pull back from your horns with a moan staring at you with eyes dark with lust as he panted.

“I fear I may lose all restraint if I continue to allow you to touch my horns,” Thresh admitted, sitting back and looking like some sort of demon of temptation under the soft lighting of the room. “I do not want to force anything upon you.”

“You aren’t,” you replied. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted like this. I don’t want to do this with anyone but you, Thresh.”

Thresh stared down at you for a moment before a grin took over his face. “I do not think I will ever keep a soul again. Nothing in this world compares to you, my love.”

Thresh’s loving gaze was making you feel shy, but he quickly distracted you by reaching a hand to his other biceps, pulling off his glove before tossing it to the side where your ripped clothes laid. His hook and lantern were set to the side with more care, quickly being joined by his vest to leave his upper half totally bare.

He normally wore an open vest, so his well-defined abdomen wasn’t a new sight for you, but somehow seeing his nude upper body now felt all new in this context. You watched, transfixed, as Thresh’s biceps bulged out slightly as he stood up to remove his belt to free his hakama pants to be removed next. How had you managed to worm your way into the heart of such a beautiful man? It was so hard to believe that you had gone from being a social pariah to laying here, about to experience an act so intimate that you had thought it would be forever out of your reach.

Thresh let his hakama pants fall to the ground, stepping out of them and kicking them gently to the side. Now fully naked, Thresh’s body was as exposed as yours, his cock so hard that it was pointed straight out in your direction. You shuddered with anticipation, the sight of the handsome spirit unclothed making you feel even more wet between your legs.

Thresh returned to you, settling above you, the tips of his ears as flushed with excitement as his cheeks were. “I do not think I will ever grow tired of seeing you like this.”

Thresh took hold of your legs, looking down at you, noting the want in your own face before he wrapped your legs around his sides, which brought your hips close together. With your bodies sufficiently close, Thresh took his cock in hand, lining himself up to close the final distance between your bodies as he began to slide effortlessly into you, the feeling making both of you moan.

Finding no resistance, Thresh was easily able to slide fully into you, the very tip of his cock settling against somewhere inside you that made your back arch.

“Nothing has ever felt like this,” Thresh choked out as he began to move, the feeling of his cock against your most sensitive spots sending your eyes fluttering closed as you gripped at the sheets under you. “I have never desired anything like I desire you, my little human.”

You tried your best to keep up with his pace, but it was all so much, each movement of his hips bringing you closer and closer to your end. Thresh was more than happy to make up for your hazy brain, keeping up his tempo, his desperate groans of your name sending your heartbeat soaring as you moaned his own back to him.

You were getting really, really close, each thrust Thresh made earning a cry from you as you opened your eyes, tugging his face down as you were overcome with the need to kiss him.

With Thresh even closer, his pelvis began to brush against your clit every time he sank back into you, the resulting increase in pleasure almost too much to take.

“Those humans will never get you back,” Thresh groaned possessively. “They will never see how beautiful you look like this.”

You wanted to reply, to say something, but you couldn’t find the words, clutching Thresh tightly as you came, eyes closing tight as his following thrusts allowed you to ride out the sensations until finally Thresh stilled as well.

Pulling himself gently out of you, he laid down next to you, pulling you to him. You happily snuggled against his chest, feeling tired, but more at peace than you had ever been.

“Thresh,” you whispered, getting a short hum in response. “What you said…”

“What you said earlier about Ahri being right,” came his reply. “This may be the first time I have agreed with her in a long while. Your people have forsaken quite a great treasure to me, one that will cost them so much.”

You pulled back from his chest, waiting for him to say more. It was embarrassing how addicted you were to his praise, but you couldn’t help yourself after so many years of neglect.

“Of course, if you ever wish to return–”

“I won’t,” you quickly denied.

Thresh grinned as he leaned in for another kiss. “Then we will enjoy our forever right here, my sweet little human.”

You had no complaints, closing your eyes as you kissed the man you loved, mentally thanking that thorned branch that had led to you finding the place where you belonged.

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