〈 “expertise” is doing a lot of heavy lifting. venom knows everything about her; gwen knows less of the symbiote. it lives in her head, a little tenant, riffling through her entire life. though it shares a lot—their relationship has been hard won, initial hate and fear replaced by trust—the balance is inherently unequal. her mind cannot open itself to the entirety of another’s being; it barely has enough capacity for hers.
gwen’s response is less concrete answer than a wish transmitted through the earpiece: I hope it does. I can never remember my dreams, anymore.
maybe it will. if not this dream, then at least what inspired it. memories are consolidated in sleep and dreaming, aren’t they? if venom dreams of the folk tales itachi weaved for it, the stories are part of the symbiote now: small comforts existing separate from its host. 〉
（ 'dream' is a tenuous concept for him. he is rarely asleep long enough, deeply enough, for them to take hold in his mind. when he is, the ones that find him are not kind.
he thinks of the dream into which blue stumbled, over a year ago now. of the firelight reflected off the nakano lake as the uchiha compound burned to ash behind him, how real the heat had felt. the black fire of amaterasu eating everything in its path, vain and gluttonous. it has never bothered him in the strictest sense — malingering dreams are easily the least of all he deserves.
but it is... nice, to imagine that he has inspired something other than nightmares in another little life.
he reaches out again — not for gwen this time, but with a whisper-soft caress down the length of the little dragon's flank.
Do you know why I began telling this one stories? ）
（ there is a very faint smile cutting one corner of his mouth upwards. I told you once that your relationship with Venom reminded me of a similar symbiosis in my world. The Jinchūriki. Living sacrifices, meant to entomb an impossible power within themselves to serve as a cautionary tale against invading the nations to which they belonged. However... it was possible for a vessel to befriend the creature placed within them. Most people dismiss these partnerships as monstrous, and the vessels are treated as pariahs and used — often to their deaths — by those in power.
I have seen the danger firsthand of treating them thusly. I decided that Venom would probably benefit more from kindness than cruelty. ）
〈 Good call, follows immediately, the slight dryness conveyed in the tipping of her head, the slant of her eyes when she looks to itachi. her gaze returns to the symbiote.
I hated it at first. Wanted it out of me. I was out of control so it was out of control. Figuring that out was the first step to making peace with it. I thought it was making me do all those things, but I was affecting it just as much as it was me.
she lays a hand along venom's back. it twitches, but does not wake. the dream fades around them as dreams do. a sensation of warmth remains. of safety. gwen hikes the little creature higher. her smile is as soft as early dawn sunlight. 〉
（ he has had so few moments in his life that have felt peaceful he barely recognizes the sensation for what it is at first. awareness of it creeps in, settles like dust in the corners of an abandoned room. his expression stays fond, as soft as her smile. stranger still is that the peace does not feel stolen, simply a thing nurtured.
I do not think you can be blamed for feeling that way about this one at first. And very few people could come to accept its presence as you have. You have a kind heart, 氿恵爓. ）
〈 the characters are easy to recognize even without a translation. they have been on her wall for months. gwen: the tender blazing flame of spring. sometimes, she stares up at it from her bed, the poem that follows her name a comfort. although the wind will always blow…moonlight leaks too. 〉
"Blessed ring." 〈 the apparent non sequitur is spoken quietly. 〉 That's what my name means. Gwendolyn. It comes from Welsh.
〈 in her arms, venom stirs. when a black eye slits open, gwen is unsurprised. she could feel it waking through the strange, distant connection degar's magic left them. with wakefulness, the unguarded telepathy goes the way of the dream. venom's mind is closed to her too. its slender head swivels from gwen to itachi. a wide yawn takes it, the sinuous back arching like a cat stretching. 〉
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gwen’s response is less concrete answer than a wish transmitted through the earpiece: I hope it does. I can never remember my dreams, anymore.
maybe it will. if not this dream, then at least what inspired it. memories are consolidated in sleep and dreaming, aren’t they? if venom dreams of the folk tales itachi weaved for it, the stories are part of the symbiote now: small comforts existing separate from its host. 〉
no subject
he thinks of the dream into which blue stumbled, over a year ago now. of the firelight reflected off the nakano lake as the uchiha compound burned to ash behind him, how real the heat had felt. the black fire of amaterasu eating everything in its path, vain and gluttonous. it has never bothered him in the strictest sense — malingering dreams are easily the least of all he deserves.
but it is... nice, to imagine that he has inspired something other than nightmares in another little life.
he reaches out again — not for gwen this time, but with a whisper-soft caress down the length of the little dragon's flank.
Do you know why I began telling this one stories? ）
no subject
no subject
I have seen the danger firsthand of treating them thusly. I decided that Venom would probably benefit more from kindness than cruelty. ）
no subject
I hated it at first. Wanted it out of me. I was out of control so it was out of control. Figuring that out was the first step to making peace with it. I thought it was making me do all those things, but I was affecting it just as much as it was me.
she lays a hand along venom's back. it twitches, but does not wake. the dream fades around them as dreams do. a sensation of warmth remains. of safety. gwen hikes the little creature higher. her smile is as soft as early dawn sunlight. 〉
no subject
I do not think you can be blamed for feeling that way about this one at first. And very few people could come to accept its presence as you have. You have a kind heart, 氿恵爓. ）
no subject
"Blessed ring." 〈 the apparent non sequitur is spoken quietly. 〉 That's what my name means. Gwendolyn. It comes from Welsh.
〈 in her arms, venom stirs. when a black eye slits open, gwen is unsurprised. she could feel it waking through the strange, distant connection degar's magic left them. with wakefulness, the unguarded telepathy goes the way of the dream. venom's mind is closed to her too. its slender head swivels from gwen to itachi. a wide yawn takes it, the sinuous back arching like a cat stretching. 〉