I AM NEW SPRITE MAN I NEED CIRITIASIIDIMKSM

[Specta]

That story was so beautiful I cried a single tear.

[CT075]

i shall asm your life for you

[Ansem]

OMG I LOVE THIS I can't wait for the hack

I wrote some fic I hope u don't mind !!!1 <3 MARK x SHADOW OTP!!!

"Shame is like the sun. It blinds us to all else that glimmers."

-Archsage Athos of Nabata

"Mark," whispered Shadow. He had slipped softly into the tent, with no sound to mark his passage but the rustle of canvas and his own exhaltion. He lingered there, watching the supine form of his former enemy darken with the dimming light. They had fought so many times that he had ceased to count the battles; and yet, when the time had come, he could not deal the killing blow. Instead, his healers had bandaged Mark and left him here to rest, in the heart of his own nemesis' camp. Now they were alone together, left with only stillness and wounds, the clamor of battle long faded.

He had this last chance to end their grudge. He need only kneel and slide a knife across that unguarded neck. One quick motion to bring the God and his kiss of death. His fingers groped in silken robes, closing about the weapon's hilt. It took only the span of a breath to sink to Mark's side, to draw the blade, to raise it and prepare to cut. With a shaking hand, he pressed the naked steel into his foe's flesh.

And then it tumbled from his hand.

"Shadow," Mark whispered back. The wounded man fumbled impotently among the blankets until his hand brushed fallen knife. "Go on," he croaked. "Kill me."

But Shadow could not. For all he thought he had desired blood, he wanted only answers.

"You never told me. Your never told me why you abandoned me to die at Cathelet!"

Mark did not respond. The darkness choked him into silence, burdened as it was with the weight of ghosts and the memory of desperate flights.

"Why?! God damn you!" Shadow gripped his enemy's collar, jerking Mark's face towards his own. He would not look away. Not this time.

" Because I hated you. Hate you."

" But we were blood brothers. We had sworn!"

"I know what I swore. But you..." Mark trembled in a transport of rage. Of grief. And then his face cracked, betraying all the passions that he could not admit. But he could no longer fit into the boundaries that manhood had drawn around him.

"You stole into me. Do you understand? My mind and my skin! What man should take that place? You would make a woman of me!"

Shadow blinked. Unthinkingly, his hands had already found Mark's shoulders. He marveled at the heat of the skin, the pulse of the blood beneath - the blood he had almost taken. Feeling ashamed, he gripped Mark in consolation. It seemed a cruel mockery of their brotherly days.

"You thought that if I had died, all of it would go away."

"The need. Yes. How could I live with that shame? And still, even now.... Shadow. End me. You've won. It's your right."

"I can't! Twice now today I've tried - and not again." He tossed away the knife to a corner, and hung his head. "I would have preferred it, you know. The shame, to the hate. And why even shame? Those years ago, the terrible years before Cathelet, no one stood by me but you."

Mark tensed in Shadow's grip. Shadow knew his friend was marshalling the whole of himself against emasculation and tears.

In the very last light, he watched him close his eyes and fail.

"Come in, then," Mark whispered.

Their lips met in the newborn dark.

( Continued at http://tinyurl.com/shadowficX )

dis sotry making me cyr so hard omg qq