Hi, can you do KeixKrad, please? Prompt: These wounds won't seem to heal, this pain is just too real. It sounds like a fitting concept. Thanks
Pride 2026 â âJune of fluffy Feverwhumpâ
These wounds wonât seem to heal, this pain is just too real
âIt must seem amusing to you, Elm Root.â
Said Elm Root couldnât have cared less about the emotional turmoil of the unstable artwork that cursed the Hikari family with its permanent, implacable corruption but still had the sense to understand that his presence could mitigate some of it, at this moment. He approached in slow steps, ignoring the tiredness that had initially led him towards his own bedroom for a good nightâs sleep and unfortunately made him cross paths with Krad in the process.
âYou do witness, century after century, how nothing ever truly changesâŚâ
Kradâs entire figure radiated the same pain as someone who had lost a limb and was left abandoned there, mutilated and unable to function, torn by pain and humiliation. His bones protruded, painful to look at, eyes lacked their usual cunning shine⌠He looked⌠broken.
âPerhaps you do not realise, but your face always changes, you know?â
With anyone else, Elm Root would have illustrated his words by brushing bangs out of his face in a mockingly tender gesture, but bringing his hand too close would have been too risky; instead, he sat down next to him, facing the window like he did.
The features of his Master had grown distant on the familiar face, changed alongside generations. So many decades ago, just seeing Kradâs face would clutch at his heart, but now⌠And the features remained faithfully engraved in the artworkâs heart despite all living traces having been lost to time.
âI did not know you were this superficial.â
He got it, he got it. He knew that this strange, ethereal being, despite apparent confidence, buried an endless craving for completion, for someone or something to fill the gaping, infinite craving in his chest, a role no one but his reluctant other half would ever be able to take. Every new body brought new expectations, whether in the Hikari himself or, sometimes, in sudden surges of hope, in the phantom thiefâs change of heart â a change of heart that never happened and grew more distant with each confrontation.
The Niwa curse seemed perfectly fine with missing his other wing, instead choosing to replace it with pillaged art and spreading despair amongst artistic souls.
âDo you want me to say he will return to you? That he will come and comfort you, tell you he wants you again and bring the refinement youâre so desperately lusting after?â
âYour empty words do not matter to me, Elm Root.â
âWhat if I truly mean them?â
He absolutely didnât, smiled at his interlocutor nonetheless.
âWhat could an artwork like the Black Wings desire but perfection? How could âDarkâ live in shallow incompleteness?â
Kradâs inhuman eyes slightly widened, seductive words making their way through his mind to touch him right where he needed them. Hope was a foolish emotion that defied all laws of reason and could resurface even when it seemed entirely lost: if Elm Root found anything amusing in this world, it had to be the way he could influence anyone â and anything â with ambiguous honesty, merely toying with hope.
âHe desires you, his other wing, more than anything in this world.â
The artwork didnât lower himself by asking if he was serious, didnât know him well enough to guess on his own. Instead, he stared, life flowing back in his body, that already seemed to regain some energy. He was surprisingly easy to understand.
After all, he and Elm Root were the same, always pursuing what they could never obtain.