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spidey-stark · 2 years ago

Text

Pairing - Azriel x Reader

Warnings - Mentions of death

Word Count - 2,400+

Summary - It’s the Reader’s first Starfall back home in Velaris after being trapped Under the Mountain with Rhys, though trauma holds them back from fully reuniting with their family-The Inner Circle. Azriel comes to find them, potential feelings beginningto rise to the surface.

A/N - I don’t know what this is. I was just absent-mindedly writing and this is what I ended up with, so I might as well post it. Be kind, I haven’t ever wrote for Azriel before so I’m still learning the best way to write for his character. I also haven’t wrote anything in quite some time so ya know... not that great.

It hadn’t made sense at first.

The city had been my safe-haven, one that filled my dreams Under the Mountain whenever exhaustion would set in and finally force my eyes shut. My beloved temporary escape from Amarantha’s cruel reign, the only remaining tether to my sanity; and now that I had finally returned after forty-nine Gods-awful years, I was left to find that it was no longer what I remembered it to be.

Velaris was one of the only places to remain untouched by her merciless hands, though it still felt as though it had been stripped of all its beauty, just as the rest of Prythian had been. My home, a place that had brought me such solace, now felt cold and foreign.

Then, eventually, it dawned on me. Velaris hadn’t been the one to change. I had.

No one had escaped Under the Mountain unscathed and I knew this, but somehow I had been foolish enough to believe that returning home would be the cure to all the horrors I had endured. Velaris was as beautiful as ever-the same warm, welcoming city that I loved with all my heart. But I was no longer beautiful. No longer warm. No longer willing to welcome anyone into my life, including my own family.

A part of me had expected Rhys to share in that realization, to have a similar feeling of unease as we were forced to relearn how to exist within the confines of our home. The two of us had felt things under there that our friends would never fully understand, seen things that I knew would haunt us for centuries. I hadn’t thought it foolish to assume that he too would struggle upon returning home; upon remembering what it felt like to be safe. But, I soon realized, that I was the only one to feel a sense of estrangement here. The only one who hadn’t stopped living as if they were still trapped Under the Mountain.

We were all meant to spend Starfall together, celebrate as a family for the first time in decades. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to go downstairs and join them. I could hear the sound of their laughter as I stood atop one of the many balconies a the House of Wind, listening as they made small talk and drank wine. I wanted them to be happy, I wanted to be happy with them, but the sound of their joy only left me feeling more hollow.

I leaned against the balcony railing, burying my face in my hands and savoring the feel of cold palms against flushed cheeks. I tried to will that empty feeling away, sighing as it only began to morph into the only other emotion I had felt since returning: sadness. At this point I wasn’t sure which was worse.

As tears began to well up in my eyes I felt the soothing touch of shadows brushing against my bare arm, grazing gently just below the sleeve of my gown. My head instinctively snapped up from my hands, once again letting the emptiness consume me in an effort to hide just how broken I had become.

“Mor sent me to look for you.”

Azriel’s footsteps had been feather-light as always, a carefully honed skill that worked to his advantage as the resident Spymaster. His shadows continued to whirl around my arm, acting as a considerate gesture to make sure I had been aware of his presence rather than just sneaking up on me.

“She’s asked for you about a dozen times in the past ten minutes.”

I forced a chuckle at his words, followed by a small smile. “I’m sure she’s already raided the wine cellar and began overindulging herself by now, yeah? Give it a bit longer, I’m sure soon enough she won’t even notice I’m missing.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that since she’s had to suffer through forty-nine years without her favorite drinking partner. If you don’t hurry up and drain the rest of the cellar with her then I doubt she will be quick to forgive you.”

Azriel came to join me in leaning against the railing, his head tilted towards the sky as his shadows began to dissipate. For a moment he indulged in the silence between us, giving me some time to think over my list of excuses as to why I wouldn’t be joining them tonight. Then, he spoke again.

“Where have you been lately?”

The question was deceptively simple and didn’t come with an easy answer.

“Well,” I took a heavy breath, beginning to pick at my nail-beds, “Rhys signed off on me going back to work so long as I work under Madja for the time being, so most of the time I’m in the city. I tried to tell him it was silly and I didn’t need to be supervised, but you know Rhys. He insists that it’s for the best so I don’t get too overwhelmed.”

Madja had been the one to oversee my training when I first decided to become a healer. I had just barely completed my training before Amarantha’s reign began, and my time spent Under the Mountain had only aided me in honing the skills she taught me as I tried to tend to whatever injuries I could. But Rhys had been alongside me as I fought to heal as many as I could, had witnessed the way each person I lost had taken a piece of me with him; likely the reason why he had felt more comfortable having me work under Madja rather than begin healing on my own again, an attempt to place less weight on my shoulders for a while.

“While I’m glad to hear that you’re working again,” I could feel his gaze shift from the stars to me, though I still refused to look up from my own hands, “you know that’s not what I meant.”

Another smile tugged at my lips, though this one was genuine, albeit weak. “You can’t blame me for trying to avoid the question, can you?”

“Not at all, though I do hope you’ll try and answer it anyway.”

“Gods, things really have changed, haven’t they? It used to be me having to pester you to let your feelings out. I guess the tables finally turned.” I shook my head at the thought of all the nights so long ago where I would fight to gain Azriel’s trust, and the ones that followed where he would actually share some of the things that plagued him. “I think I’ve just been stuck in my own head lately.”

A weak answer, one that I knew wouldn’t satisfy him, because I wouldn’t have been satisfied with it either if the roles were reversed.

“You’ve been home for months now and yet this is the most we’ve spoken to each other--so I’ve noticed that you haven’t been very present.” His words were so careful, so gentle, and they were laced with so much concern that it made my stomach twist.

“Have I?” Been home, I mean.” I forced myself to look away from my hands, glancing over at him as his brows furrowed together at the question. “I know it probably doesn’t make any sense, but it just doesn’t feel like home anymore, ya know?”

“Velaris?” His head tilted slightly as he spoke, offering me his full attention.

“The world.” I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, averting my eyes from him again to stare at the stars. “I used to have so much faith in everything. Maybe not in the Gods or even the High Lords, but in the world. I believed that there was a purpose to it all, believed in the beauty of life--the same beauty that made me want to become a healer. And now? All of that is gone. I don’t have faith in any of it anymore.”

The weight of sadness began to creep back into my chest, once again filling the hollow space and making me feel weighted.

“I thought being back home would fix that. That seeing anywhere that hadn’t been touched by her would fix it. It was supposed to give me something to believe in again, to know that something beautiful had survived.” I chewed on my bottom lip, fighting to keep my voice even, “Truthfully? I think everything beautiful died under there.”

“No.” Azriel spoke quickly, not allowing even a moment of silence. He lifted his hand off the railing as though he were going to reach for mine, hesitating at the last moment as it hovered over my skin, ultimately settling against the railing again. “Not everything beautiful is dead. You survived.”

“Is it bad that I wish I hadn’t?” It fell from my lips before I had a chance to stop it, the collected mask that Azriel always wore falling in an instant, replaced with an emotion I couldn’t quite figure out. “I tried to save as many lives as I could, but there were just too many that needed saving. Some of them were beyond help, but fuck Az, some of them? They begged for death, begged me not to help them. Death was just a means to an end for them, and honestly? I think they might have had it right. It would have been better to die than to live like this.”

He didn’t fight the silence this time, letting it grow until it felt like I was suffocating in it. I turned my head towards him, his lips parted slightly though no sound came out, words lost upon the Shadowsinger at the confession.

“I’m sorry.” It came out as a whisper as a new emotion flooded through me for the first time in years. Guilt-for thrusting the weight of my problems onto him. “I shouldn’t have put that on you.” I cleared my throat, forcing myself to be louder this time. “It’s just--I don’t know--there used to be so much good in the world, and I just can’t see it anymore.”

“Try a mirror.” His statement was forward and a bit awkward, a hint of desperation behind the rushed words that was entirely unlike him. “You know, once we realized that you and Rhys weren’t coming back, that there was absolutely nothing we could do to save the two of you, you were what got me through Y/N. I took my favorite things about you-like the way you would smile whenever all of us would find time to be in one room together-and I committed them to memory. And every grueling day that I had to force myself out of bed, every day I was forced to live without you, I would think of them. I would use them to remind myself that I couldn’t give up. I couldn’t lose faith. Because even if I couldn’t see you, I could still feel you, and I wasn’t going to allow myself to give up until you were safe again.”

Azriel’s hand raised again and this time he didn’t hesitate as his hand pressed itself against my cheek. I forced myself to stay still against his tough, afraid that if I moved even slightly he would take his touch away.

“When I first met you, you forced yourself into my life. Spent years clawing at the walls I built around myself, around what happened. You never gave up. ” His thumb hesitantly stroked my face, scarred skin against smooth flesh. “You are all the proof I will ever need that beautiful things still live.” My eyes fluttered shut, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through the hollow space that lived inside me, “You’re one of the most intelligent healers I’ve ever met, and so you know that trauma doesn’t heal overnight. But I can promise you that all of us are here to help you. I am here to help you, in whatever way you need.”

I felt his breath against my skin as he spoke, warm and minty, and I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter to try and fight against the tears attempting to force their way out.

“You’re not a prisoner anymore. You’re allowed to come home, love.”

“I’m terrified.” My voice wobbled as a I spoke, forcing myself to look at him, tears sliding down my cheek and falling against the hand still pressed against my face. “What if the pain never goes away? The fear?”

Azriel let himself smile, “It never goes away, not fully. But it changes, becomes more numb with time, until you barely feel it at all. And I’ll be right there with you every step of the way.”

There was a sudden crash from downstairs that sounded like the shattering of a bottle, followed by an eruption of drunken laughter. Azriel rolled his eyes at the noise while I couldn’t help but let out a giggle of my own through tears. “They’ll be there for you too, I’m sure.”

“I don’t want all of you to be worried about me, though. I don’t want you worrying about me.” I playfully shoved his arm, “There’s so much happening, so much to focus on. Worrying about me will just add to the stress.”

“You could never add to my stress.” All hints of teasing vanished, his tone serious as he now used both hands to cup my face, hazel eyes glued onto my own. “I’ve worried about you for the last forty-nine years. At least now I get to do it with you by my side. You matter so much to me, Y/N.”

He didn’t follow it up with a reminder that I also mattered to our family, that everyone worried for Rhys and I’s safety Under the Mountain. He spoke only of himself, in such a personal and intimate way. That unfamiliar warmth in my chest began to grow larger, accompanied by an overwhelming sense of nerves as he leaned closer to me, pressing his lips against the top of my head.

My heart threatened to beat right out of my chest as he pulled back from me, his hands falling from my face as that composed mask of his began to take over his features again, though a tinge of crimson coloring still painted his cheeks under the moonlight.

“I should probably rejoin everyone before they send Cassian after me.” Azriel took a step back, silent for a moment before offering his arm towards me, “You’re welcome to accompany me. I know everyone would love to see you-especially Mor.”

I took a few deep breaths, steadying my still-racing heart before moving towards him to lock arms.

“Time to come home.”

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years ago

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The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 22

Original Title: 二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 22 - This Venerable One's Shizun is Getting Angry

When Chu Wanning heard this, he was so angry that he could barely keep himself from retracting Tianwen and slashing the Chen couple. But he couldn't open his eyes to confront them. Once he opened his eyes, the barrier would be broken. The Return to Truth barrier could only trap a ghost once. If his interrogation was interrupted, he wouldn't be able to listen to any more of Luo Xianxian's story.

All he could do was contain his overwhelming rage and continue listening to Luo Xianxian.

After she died, her soul entered the underworld, unaware and confused.

The only thing that she could make out was a woman wearing red and green robes with facial features that resembled the Master of Ceremonies Ghost enshrined in a temple. The Master of Ceremonies Ghost stood in front of her and asked her in a soft voice: "You and Chen Bohuan couldn't share a bed in life. Would you like to share the same grave in death?"

She hurriedly agreed: "Yes. . . Yes please!"

"Then I can let him come join you right away. What do you think?"

Luo Xianxian wanted to blurt out a yes, rushing to agree, but suddenly remembered something and froze. "Am I dead?"

"Yes. I am the Master of the Underworld Ghost. I can give you the destiny you deserve and fulfill your long-cherished wish."

Luo Xianxian was startled: "Then, if he comes to join me, will he. . . also die?"

"Yes. However, if loves persists in the afterlife, life and death are irrelevant. What difference does it make?"

Chu Wanning heard this, he thought to himself that he had been right; this Master of Ceremonies Ghost would persuade others to make a wish so that she could reap the benefits. This immortal was truly diabolical.

Although Luo Xianxian died unjustly, she hadn't yet become a malevolent ghost, so she repeatedly shook his head: "No. It wasn't his fault. You can't kill him."

The Master of Ceremonies Ghost smiled compassionately: "And what did you get in return for this kindness?" It didn't force Luo Xianxian to do anything. As an immortal being, they could persuade someone to make a bad wish, but they couldn't force them. Its figure gradually faded away, its voice becoming hazier and hazier.

"Return to the world in seven days. During those seven days, go and see how the Chen family is faring. After that, I'll ask you again if you still have no regrets about your decision."

Seven days later, the day arrived.

Luo Xianxian's soul returned to a conscious form and returned to the world of the living.

Following the old road, she eagerly walked towards the Chen house to see her husband for the last time.

Unexpectedly, the Chen house was decorated with lights, and outside the courtyard, there were fireworks. Bridal flowers were decorating the halls. and a big "double happiness" banner was hanging in front of the main hall. Madam Chen was radiant, not appearing sickly in the slightest. She was smiling and instructing the servants to wrap the bouquets with red silk.

Who. . . was having a wedding?

Who. . . were the bride and groom?

Who. . . no one was engaged, what was going on?

Who. . .

She walked through the busy crowd, listening to the sound of people in the world of the living.

"Congratulations, Madam Chen. Your son is getting engaged to the daughter of the county magistrate. When's the wedding?"

"Madam Chen, you're so fortunate."

"Yao Qianjin is truly the lucky star of the Chen family and they aren't even official yet. Madam Chen, you look so much healthier already."

"Your son and Yao Qianjin are a match made in heaven. I'm so jealous, hahahaha."

Her son. . . Her son. . .

Which son?

Which one was marrying the daughter of the Yao family?

She shuttled back and forth across the familiar front yard, growing more and more frantic, looking for that familiar figure in the midst of all the laughter.

Then she found him.

In front of the peony flowers in the back hall, Chen Bohuan stood with his hands behind his back with a haggard face and sunken cheeks. However, he was dressed in red. Even though it wasn't a traditional wedding outfit, it was a Caidie Town custom. When a prospective son-in-law comes to propose marriage, he should wear this type of red gown.

Was he. . . going to propose. . .?

The decorations in the whole house, the strings of gold and silver beads, was it all. . . was it all from Chen Bohuan, her husband, as a dowry for the daughter of the Yao family?

She suddenly recalled the time when they got married.

There was nothing but two people that shared one heart - nothing else.

There was no master of ceremonies, no bridesmaids, and no dowry. The Chen family weren't wealthy at that time and didn't even own a decent set of jewelry. He went into the yard and picked a delicate orange blossom from under the orange tree they had planted together and carefully tucked it behind her ear.

She asked him: "Does it look good?"

He said it looked beautiful. After a moment of silence, he stroked her hair with some sadness and told her: "You deserve so much better than this."

Luo Xianxian smiled and pursed his lips, saying that it didn't matter.

Chen Bohuan told her that when he married her three years later, he would hold a lively wedding banquet. He would invite people from all over the world. He would have her make a grand entrance on a large sedan chair. He would give her gold and silver to wear, and the dowry gifts would fill the entire main hall.

Those vows still echoed in her ears. Now, all those promises have come true, the hall filled with gifts and guests.

He was getting married, just not to her.

A monstrous flame of anger and sorrow surged through her. Luo Xianxian screamed, trying to tear at the hanging red silk in the room.

But she was a ghost; she couldn't touch anything.

Chen Bohuan seemed to vaguely notice something. He turned around, staring at the silk moving despite there being no wind. His eyes were dull and hollow.

His little sister came over, a white jade hairpin clipped on the side of her bun. She didn't know who she was secretly mourning by wearing it.

She said: "Big brother, go to the kitchen to eat something. You haven't had a proper meal in days. You have to hurry up and go to the county magistrate's house later to propose. Your body won't hold up."

Chen Bohuan suddenly asked without thinking: "Sister, did you hear someone crying?"

". . . What? No, brother, I think you're still. . ." She gritted her teeth and didn't finish her thought. Chen Bohuan still stared at the fluttering silk sheets.

"How is my mother? Is she happy? Has her illness been cured?"

". . . Brother."

". . . I'm glad she's feeling better." Chen Bohuan stood there, muttering to himself. "I already lost Luo Xianxian, I couldn't live without my mother."

"Brother, go eat something. . ."

Luo Xianxian wailed. She yelled and bawled with her head in her hands.

Don't go. . . don't go. . . please don't go. . .

Chen Bohuan said: ". . . Alright."

The tired figure disappeared around the corner.

Luo Xianxian stood alone in a daze, large tears rolling down her face. Suddenly, she heard the brothers of the Chen family who killed her approaching. The second eldest brother and the younger brother were whispering to each other.

"Mother is finally happy. Finally, things are going our way."

"Right? She pretended to be sick for half and year. Now that that cursed bitch is gone, how could she not be thrilled?"

The younger brother tsked and said, "How come she died? We wanted to force her out, not kill her. Was she really so stupid that she couldn't even find someone to help her?"

"Who knows. She was weak, just like her rotten father. It's not our fault that she died. Even though mother pretended to be sick to get rid of her, our family has its own struggles. Think about it, when the options county magistrate’s daughter and some pauper girl, only a fool would choose the latter. Besides, even if Yao Qianjin is a brat, she's got enough money to go around."

"Yes, she's so dumb. She didn't want to live so she let herself freeze to death. No one could've saved her."

The words drifted to her ears.

After Luo Xianxian died, she finally understood the so-called "Divine Fate". She was completely broke and couldn't compare to the county magistrate's daughter who was so noble and honourable.

Only a fool would choose the pauper girl.

She finally snapped.

She returned to the Master of Ceremonies' temple full of hatred and resentment.

She died there. Unlike how weak and helpless she was when she died, she returned with overwhelming hostility.

She used to be such a kind person, but now, all the hatred and evil that had been built inside her while she was alive came flooding out. She roared, her eyes turning red, her soul trembling.

She said: "I, Luo Xianxian, would like to give up my soul and follow the path of wickedness. I only ask you to avenge me! I want the Chen family - I don't want you to kill them!!! I want. . . I want to let my beastly mother-in-law kill her sons by her own hand! All her sons!!! I want Chen Bohuan to go to hell with me!!! Let him be buried with me!!! Do it for me!!! I hate them! I hate them!!!!"

The eyes of the clay sculpture on the shrine shifted and the corners of its mouth slowly raised.

A hollow voice echoed through the temple.

"I have heard your prayers. It will be as you wish. As an evil spirit - kill all those that you resent -"

A piercing blood-red light flashed, and Luo Xianxian couldn't remember anything after that.

However, Chu Wanning already what happened next. After that, the Master of Ceremonies Ghost manipulated Luo Xianxian's spirit to possess Madam Chen and force her to kill each member of the Chen family.

The red coffin on the top of the mountain, the reason why Chen Bohuan was dug up, naturally, was because the Master of Ceremonies Ghost was fulfilling Luo Xianxian's greatest wish - "Let Chen Bohuan and I be buried together." Moreover, it deliberately placed the coffin on the property of Chen Bohuan and his new wife as an act of spiteful revenge.

As for the floral scent in Chen Bohuan's coffin, it was the scent of the butterfly fragrance powder that Luo Xianxian had worn before her death. The resentment and fragrance in the coffin were both extremely strong because Luo Xianxian's soul was resting alongside Chen Bohuan inside it.

Luo Xianxian had no family. According to the customs, if a person like that dies, their bones should be cremated instead of buried. Therefore, she had no physical body and could only be contained within the coffin by the Master of Ceremonies Ghost. That's why, when Chu Wanning opened the coffin with his willow vine, Luo Xianxian had escaped the coffin's containment. Her soul flew away, and it was difficult to recapture. It was a situation of "a closed coffin being heavy with resentment but an open coffin being light".

But during the illusion, why did other people have dead bodies as their partners but Chen Bohuan only had a paper-mache ghost bride?

Chu Wanning thought for a moment and figured out this much:

The Master of Ceremonies Ghost didn't break its promise. The paper-mache bride was the "physical body" that it gave Luo Xianxian. It was a vessel so that Luo Xianxian could be buried with Chen Bohuan.

Everything was clear.

Chu Wanning looked at the weak and helpless girl in the barrier. He wanted to say something but didn't know what to say.

Elder Yuheng wasn't particularly good at comforting words. He couldn't think of anything, so he stayed silent, not having anything he could say.

The girl stood in the vast darkness with her soft round eyes open.

Chu Wanning looked at her eyes and couldn't bear it. He wanted to leave. He didn't want to take another look. He was about to open his eyes and leave the Return to Truth barrier.

Then the girl suddenly spoke.

"Lord Yama. I. . . I have something else I want to tell you."

Chu Wanning: ". . . Alright."

The girl suddenly lowered her head, covered her eyes, and cried. She said softly, "Lord Yama, I don't know what I did after that. But, I. . . I really didn't want to kill my husband. I didn't want to be an evil spirit. I really. . ."

"I didn't steal the oranges. I really am Chen Bohuan's wife. And I truly, truly didn't want to hurt anyone either."

"I truly didn't want anyone to get hurt. Please believe me."

Her voice choked and trembled, her words breaking.

"I. . . didn't lie. . ."

I didn't lie.

Why is it that, in this life, almost no one believed me?

She sobbed and screamed. Chu Wanning's voice sounded low in the darkness. He didn't say much, but he said it with conviction.

"Okay."

Luo Xianxian was shocked.

Chu Wanning said: "I believe you."

Luo Xianxian wiped her tears with her hands indiscriminately but couldn't hold them back. Hiding her tearful face, she lowered her head and bowed her head in his direction in the darkness.

Chu Wanning opened his eyes.

After he opened his eyes, he didn't say anything.

Time in the barrier wasn't the same as in reality. He had stayed there for a long time but, for the people waiting outside, it had only been a moment. Mo Ran hadn't returned yet. The few remaining people in the Chen family were still looking at him with bated breath.

Chu Wanning withdrew Tianwen and said to Madam Chen: "I'll avenge you. You can find peace."

Madam Chen froze and opened her blood-red eyes, and suddenly fell to the ground with a thud, knocked out cold.

Chu Wanning raised his head again. His eyes swept across Chen's face then landed on the youngest son. His voice didn't waver, and it was still frighteningly cold.

"I'll ask one last time." He said each word slowly and decisively. "Did you really not recognize whose voice that was?"

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#2ha novel #2ha translation #2ha #the husky and his white cat shizun translation #the husky and his white cat shizun #chinese bl #chinese novel #english translation #bl novel #danmei novel #danmei #mo ran #chu wanning #ranwan

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bottledemotion · 4 years ago

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Our Twisted Faith (Soulmate AU Headcanons w/ Scenarios)

- Reverse soulmate au where the words written to ur skin is ur last words to them.

- Pairing: Zhongli X g.n reader,

- 3.9k+ words; Rated T

- warning/s: angst, character death

- A.N: This was supposed to be a full on oneshot fic but I can't fully write most of my ideas rn so I decided to list all of those (hcs or not) instead and write certain scenarios I thought off. Ngl, I have a hard time writing them in character, most of all when they're still not much accustomed to their emotions/feelings, so forgive me if they might come out OOC to you.

- For as long as he can remember, soulmates exist before the Gods.

- Before the ashes rise and form their body. Before the letters mold to create their name and have been spoken in unfamiliar languages. Before their feet take a step forward to their world, the concept of soulmate is already there. Watching, guiding and toying everyone's faith like a marionette doll.

- Which is why they also have a soulmate waiting for them.

- You could say that this is the 'only' similarity between the humans and gods hold. But unlike humans, the Archon's soulmate existence is different from the humans. Some of the Archon's other half doesn't exist even after many eras have passed.

- And one of them is Morax.

- Morax sees this concept as another form of contract. A contract that unified both individuals that both parties will benefit happiness, be it through the present and beyond. Yes he's aware that there's no 'consent' nor knowledge to both parties about this. But they can talk more about this once they meet.

- And maybe, just maybe, the contract will be fully formed.

- For an Archon who is known for being an emotionless, merciless god who slaughtered countless innocents in order to fulfil the contract. He also craves the feeling of happiness, everyone does, no matter how many times you deny it.

- he won't admit that this is also one of the similarities that human and gods hold. For human are way cruel than Archons above, cruel in their own way.

- So he waited for them. He studied the concept and terminologies about soulmates. To learn more about the contract so he can come prepared when the time comes for them to meet.

- He found out that there are many ways to find your soulmate. Be it through a time limit or name written on their skin, eyes that can only see the color of their other half eyes and many more.

- He found out that soulmates don't have to be romantic, it can become platonic and enemies as well.

- At first, the possibility of his soulmate being his enemies for life might happen. He's so used to betrayal and the blood that stained his hands, be it in or out of contract. But whenever his amber eyes gaze at the words written on his right wrist, be it through his dragon or human form, he can't help but be at ease and that everything will be fine.

- But those thoughts shattered when he found something through his learning. Something deep and brutal that he can't help ask why life has to be this cruel than it already was.

- Reverse soulmate. Sweet but deadly, bittersweet if they may. Yes you have and met your soulmate, but your faith with them is not beautiful to watch it bloom. This is a very rare occurrence for someone to have.

- And one of them is had to be him

- Because there, on his skin, he found out that the words written will be the last thing his soulmate will say to him before dying. Written in (F/c) with warm yellow star dust that glows in the dark sprinkled on the words. The words it said directed to him when his lover slowly disappear on the world is

- "I love you."

- He can't help but ask if this is a divine punishment given to him for all of the things he had done.

- He faced many enemies. Many betrayals. Spilled blood that became the exact same colour of his scales, be it through his claws or hands. Known as the God of wars, God of contracts to many. Yet he can't face this future that might will ruin him.

- But a contract is a contract, no matter if it's fully formed or not, it is still a contract. And as a God of Contract.

- He must fulfill his part and duty.

- From dusk till dawn, he waited for his soulmates to step foot on the world. Even after many eras had passed. Even after a war broke out. A nation had fallen. Blood had spilled and stained even the glaze lilies he adored watching so much with someone. Many bodies, comrade or not, loved ones or not, had been fallen along the betrayal and salt on the ground and buried deep down on the grounds. He continued waiting.

- And during his wait, he met someone along the way.

- A traveler who stumbled themselves on his nation. A traveler whose heart is weak but eyes shine, full of energy. A traveler who's spending their remaining time traveling around the world instead of looking for a cure to their condition.

- And a traveler who the very first time, just sat next to his statue.

- At first, Morax grew curious. It's not everyday to see a mortal walking to his nation without looking or asking for something for him to gain despite the obvious need from it.

- maybe that's what get his full attention when his amber eyes first landed to the traveler

- So he watched them from the statue on where they accompanied him. Silently accompanying them on their last remaining days on the land. He watched the travelers' bright (e/c) eyes watch the clouds part ways on the sky until it slowly turn to a sea of stars at each seconds passed by.

- Each day has passed. Watching them from the distance that are so close yet so far away, he noticed little things about them.

- He noticed how quiet yet soft their voice is when they hum under their breath. How the light of the sun and moon compliments their (s/c) skin. How tempting to run his fingers to their (h/l) (h/c) hair that dances with the air every time the Mondstadt Archon, Barbatos, caresses it with the wind, silently accompanying them from time to time like what he's doing.

- It's quiet yet peaceful. It's a sudden change that's somehow refreshing and comfortable. He didn't expect to feel this light feeling again after everything that had happened in the past. It's perfect but at the same time scary. Change never last, it always continue to change no matter how many time it occurred.

- And he was right when one day the traveler finally spoke to him.

- And it is a question he never expected to hear from a mere mortal

--------------------------------

"Are you tired?"

'Tired from what?', is what he wanted to reply but immediately remembered that the traveler didn't know that he's there beside them, listening and accompanying them on every tick of the time.

"Bound by the contracts you agreed on. Chained to your duties, responsibilities and even guilt that you hold on your shoulder. Never taking a break from it and instead keep moving forward no matter how heavy those burdens you carry it all alone despite the people who worship and swore to protect you and the city are all around you."

He heard them take a deep breath and continued.

"You've already finished your duties to your land, did you ever think or ask yourself to call it a day and take a rest?"

Morax breath hitched at the words. And a memory immediately played on his mind.

He remembered he was strolling along the harbor when he heard a merchant tell one of his workers, "You've finished your duties, go ahead and call it a day."

He remembered he stood motionless among the sea of crowds as soon as he heard those. From there, he asked himself, "Have I already finished my duties?"

From there, no one answered his question

"Bearing it all alone...Aren't you tired and lonely from it?"

Even though the traveler never expected a response from him, he can't help but whisper his answer and hope-

"Yes."

-for the wind to let them hear his loneliness.

--------------------------------

"I guess I can say I relate to you. Being tired I mean."

Morax slowly opens his eyes and turns his way to you. It's one of the days where you suddenly talk again after days of being quiet and just be in peace which he didn't mind one bit.

He didn't know how it happened. The peacefulness in this place and between you is another sudden change that he didn't mind one bit. It became his sanctuary. Free from the titles he holds, free from duties, free from responsibilities.

Or maybe just being by your side is a sanctuary to him.

He slowly shakes his head and turns his attention back as soon as your timid voice reaches his ears.

"From my entire life, all I feel is pity and hesitance to be closer to me from others. I can't blame even them. Who would want to be friends to someone whose death is waiting on their doorstep?" You said with a humorless laugh

'I would.' he wanted to say but remain silent instead.

He saw you hug your propped up knees and draw them closer to your face, hiding your beautiful face from his eyes and to the world.

"I accepted my faith that I won't last from this world. I'm so tired of being treated like a fragile glass that will be broken at any second. All I want is to live my best from it and maybe have someone to share those experiences with me till my last dying breath."

He saw your grip tightened to both of your knees

"I wonder....what it feels like....to have someone treat you like a human than a fragile doll...."

He noticed your voice getting dimmer and dimmer at each word you spoke.

"Do you ever wonder what it feels like...to be not alone anymore?.."

No words came out from you after that. Only the wind and your silent cries comfort both of you after the one-sided talk.

He didn't know what to do. How to fully remove the pain and burdens on your shoulder and heart when he didn't know how to ease his in the first place? Despite many people's proclamation that a God can perform a miracle without limits, not all God can do those. Not everyone is known as a God of Miracle.

Not Barbatos, not him.

In the end, they're a God with limitations.

But the one thing he knows is that he can't help but want to feel it too. To have someone by his side again. So why not both of you experience it together?

If he can't destroy the burdens you both hold, both can help ease each other's burden instead.

This will be the first time he did something out of will and no contracts involved

--------------------------------

- So after that, he starts walking around in Liyue in his human form. The one he used a long time ago that was now carved into one of the Seven Statues but with little changes.

- Everything about his appearance remains, even the tattoos on his arms and the amber tips from his long dark brown hair that glows whenever he uses his Geo powers remains there. The only difference is the way he dresses. Instead of his typical white robe with a hood and long wide pants, he now wore a long dark brown coat with silver shoulder pads, tassels, and a diamond symbol on the back. He also wears gloves to hide his arms with a silver ring on his right thumb. He also wore a formal dark gray shirt underneath his coat, black pants and leather shoes and a tassel earring on his left ear.

- Meeting the traveler again with his human form was easy. He also didn't take that long for them to befriend them. The only problem to the befriending part, is the name he'll use to this era.

--------------------------------

He did not think this through.

He can feel his human hands from his side start to sweat under the gloves. His amber eyes refuse to stare back to your bright ones as soon as you ask him a question that he forgot to think through."

"What's your name?" Is what you asked from him.

A simple question that can be easily answered, but if you asked that question to a God, it's one of the hardest questions they ever heard. Stepping fort to his nation in a new era after years already passed, he must think of a name that'll be different to the one's he used to own in order to avoid confusion and misunderstanding. Who knows, he might encounter people who are still aware of the old names he used.

For an immortal Archon who can mold themself to different forms, humans or not, make money itself from his own hands and submit mortal beings, thinking up names is not his forte.

He can feel your stare burning from his entire being, waiting to answer with a smile.

And he almost did not surpass the shiver that wants to crawl itself out from his body.

He slowly turns his eyes back to you and immediately regret it. Your bright (e/c) eyes greet his amber ones, eyes full of anticipation, and happiness to probably making a new friend.

He can't help but cleared his throat to have a reason to turn his eyes away to you

"It's...." He started and darted his eyes around them for something, anything to use of a name to this era.

"Try our new food from the Wangmin Restaurant!"

"Chop Suey!!'

"Try betting your luck on jades?"

"Why don't you try checking out the Chungli store stand near Wangshu Inn?"

His eyes lit up to one name, it's-

"Chungli." He said with a straight face

He watched you turn your head to a side "Chungli? Isn't that a store at Wangshu Inn?"

He mentally facepalmed. Of course you're aware about that because you're a traveler. But it's normal to name your child in your store right? He decided that he'll use that name, for now.

He opened his mouth. The confirmation is on the tip of his tongue but it got cut off when you immediately gasped loudly, making him step away from you with mouth still hanging a bit open and amber eyes widened and staring back at yours who's also wide but not from shock, but from....realization?

"You meant Zhongli right?!"

He immediately closed his mouth. Zhongli. Huh, the name is not bad, better than the one he was about to use.

Having decided, he nodded his head to you and raised his hand in front of you.

"Yes. I'm Zhongli." He confirmed, voice deep with a hidden feeling of pride that bloomed when he said the name you made for him.

He never took notice or thought about why he felt so proud of the name you gave to him. But as time went by, he finally knew why.

You smiled at him, a smile that's so contagious he can't help but smile back to you.

You grab his hand. Despite the gloves he wore, he can still feel the warmth along the roughness of your (s/c) hand caressing his.

"I'm [Name]. It's nice to meet you!" You said and shook his hand.

With a shake from your intertwined hands. Both of your faith has been sealed.

After that, he'll regret not telling you that meeting you with his human form was a nice change. He'll regret not telling you that finally talking to you after the years of silently being by your side is one of the happiest memories he treasured about you despite it's challenge. He'll regret not telling you that your eyes are so beautiful up close. He'll regret not telling you that hearing you say that name you basically created for him , is also not bad. He'll regret that he never admitted to you that he wouldn't mind hearing you saying that name to him everyday, as long as time let you stay breathing next to him. He'll feel all of this when you're laying on a bed, looking at him with your bright yet dull eyes, wheezing out your last breath next to him.

--------------------------------

- After he introduced himself in his human form but with different name, Morax- now know as Zhongli -accompanied you to your on Liyue.

- At first, it's awkward. You both walk around in Liyue, side by side but rarely talk to one another. Though you both began to warm up to one another when you both approached certain areas that you became curious off that brings certain memories of him that he can't help but say it.

- As soon as he noticed you taking great interest in the stories he spoke. He decided to continue telling stories about the area's you both go through, even the histories and what you need to know and become aware of. In short, he basically became your walking encyclopedia traveling buddy.

- As time continues to pass by, your relationship to one another grows closer. Every day is another day to spend time with you. Traveling with you, he starts to enjoy walking in his nation again.

- One of the favourite part of his day with you is sitting with you on Qingce Village while watching the meadow full of glaze lilies bloom as the sun goes down on the horizon. It's beautiful to watch glaze lilies bloom while the fireflies surrounds them. It became one of his fondest memory he'll never forget.

- He'll never forget how your (e/c) eyes became so at awe at the glaze lilies. He'll never forget how your (s/c) hand caresses one of its petals until it caresses his hand next to yours. He'll never forget how your hand fits so perfectly to his. He'll never forget the weight of your head from his shoulder, your breath and (h/c) caressing his neck and shoulder, and the kiss he placed on top of your head. He'll never forget those, even as the meadow full of glaze lilies are gone and rarely bloom and your presence missing next to his.

- If there's one thing that he has forgotten, it's the soulmark that's written to both of your wrists. Too busy on what's in front of you, too busy to indulge your presence until your borrowed time slowly comes to its end. Forgetting the words written in (f/c) became one of his biggest mistakes as he slowly wallows in regret as soon as he remembers it too late, right on the time where it's time for you to go.

------------------------------------

"I forgot to say thanks to you."

Zhongli heard what you said despite your voice being quiet, too quiet for his liking. He didn't turn to face your way, afraid that if he did, it'll be hard for him to turn away anymore, afraid that tears will come out of his eyes, afraid that it'll be hard for him to let go of your hand that slowly loosen its strength.

But he's listening. He's always listening to you, even if you're not talking anymore he still listens to you.

"For as long as I can remember, I accepted my faith that I won't last from this world. The people around me all look at me in pity. It's suffocating, it's tiring to see the same sad look plastered on their faces every time I came near them. All my life, I always wanted to have someone by my side to share my journey in this world but no one wants to. I'm used to it, I even thought that no one would really bother to turn their way to me."

Zhongli felt the bed shift, and (e/c) stare boring to his hidden face.

"But you did."

He heard you sniffle "You turn your attention to me. You walk your way to me. You talk to me. You gave me friendship that no one dared. You gave me experience, happiness on my journey and I'm so, so glad I met you and will be with you on my journey."

He heard you hiccup "but at the same time....Sad because you have to bear the grief and loneliness alone once I'm gone."

He tightened his hold to your hand.

"I'm sorry yet at the same time not, that I met you. Is it bad of me to feel happy that there's someone here who will miss me once I'm gone?"

You laughed. It came out force like your wheezing the breath left from you.

"All in my life, I felt so alone. So when you came in my life, it's like the Geo Archon listens to my prayers even though they don't have to."

Zhongli noticed your breath starts to get slower and slower. He noticed your hold to his hand getting weaker and weaker. He noticed your voice getting quiet and slow. He always noticed those yet he can't do anything to prevent those from anything. What only he can do is accompany you, to ease your burdens so you can leave peacefully from this world.

But he can't help but release a shaky breath. He can't help but hold your hand tighter to the point it's crushing your hand, yet you didn't voice out your pain. His hand that's holding yours starts to shake but neither of you point it out.

He knows you're leaving today. Time is ticking, and there's nothing he can do to stop it.

As soon as he felt your hold loosen completely, he knew the time was up.

But before you left, you said the words he never expected you to say.

"I love you."

You wheezed before closing your dull (e/c) eyes and hid it for the world to never see again.

You left him sitting next to you. Now looking his way to you with wide, foggy amber eyes. Not even Guizong, his first lover despite both having a different soulmate, didn't say those to him in her dying breath.

From his dilemma, everything clicks into place.

You were his soulmate. And he realized those too late.

And the only he can do is cry. For the person who's gone. For the words he never gets to say to you. For the things he never got to do and express to you.

For the love he never gets to reciprocate.

Now he knows as to why you don't have any soulmark like his when you told him you both have the same way to find your soulmate despite the lack of soulmark to your (s/c) wrist.

Because he can't die to begin with.

------------------------------------------

"The glaze lilies look so beautiful tonight. Don't you think?"

Zhongli whispers while his stare still focuses on the flower blooming next to his statue. The flower really looks so beautiful at night, reminding him of the meadow where he used to hang out with someone from his side.

He unconsciously rubs his thumb to his right wrist, where the words used to be in (F/c), now turn into a dull black ink.

"Zhongli!"

Zhongli placed his hand back to his side and slowly turned his attention to the people who called for him.

He watches them wave their hand to him. "Zhongli! The Lantern Rite will start soon! Let's go back!" Their companion, a mysterious fairy who called herself as 'Paimon' called.

He nodded his head in their way. With a one last longing stare at the glaze lily, he walked away to the place where he first met you.

If you ask him again what he regrets, is that never gets to say the words he always wanted to say to you. He never gets to say how being with you made his dull life full of new experiences and adventure that made his life more fun to bear with. He never gets to say how he relates to you when he first met you. He never gets to say how beautiful you up close.

He regretted saying "I love you" to you too late

-I ACCIDENTALLY UPLOADED THIS WITHOUT EDITING IT! So for the people who saw this early (the unedited version one) and expect Xiao in it, I'm so sorry!! .·´¯`(>▂<)´¯`·. I'll write his version soon! (since he came home on my main and second acc lol) After I'm done writing the part 2 of the Venti X Female Bard reader,,

- I used all of my remaining braincell and got tired writing this on the ending, so you'll notice the ending is a bit bland?? Again, I'm sorry for that. I hope you still enjoy reading this though! (╥﹏╥)

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin impact zhongli x reader #mywritings #zhongli x gender neutral reader

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maybebanks · 4 years ago

Text

That Side of You

JJ Maybank x Reader

⚠️: allusions to abuse, anxiety

“Y/n why don’t you take that off and enjoy the sun!” JJ smiles, waving his beer as he said it.

“Nice try,” you rolled your eyes at JJs attempt to see you in your bikini. You had on black shorts and a beige oversized t-shirt. On of your staples recently.

“What’s up with you?” JJ asked, sitting down next to you. You could feel the interrogation coming on. And then would come the pity.

“Back off JJ,” you warned, getting up and moving to the other side of the boat.

“What’s up her ass?” You heard JJ ask John B.

“Huh. Y/n turn you down? Again?” John B joked in a sarcastic tone.

“Yeah right dipshit. As if she could turn down my charms,” JJ winked.

“She can and she did, JJ,” Kiara laughes.

“Whatever. Diver down folks!” JJ shouted, saluting you before plunging into the dark blue ocean of the marsh.

You envied him. His constant happiness, and humor. But not enough to let him convince you to be happy.

You didn’t have time for that. Not anymore. What was the reason anyway?

“Hey,” Pope nudges you from behind. You’re startled, so you jump back, tensing and involuntarily gasping.

“Jeez. I know JJ is an idiot but you have been acting strange lately,” Pope inquires, furrowing his brows in thought.

It was sweet. They cared. But that wasn’t enough to make you show them. To make you cry. To look weak.

“Can everyone please get off my ass,” you groaned, reaching for a beer.

JJ has made it out of the water, and has now snuck up behind you and was going to join you in the effort to get a beer. But instead, he came up with a new idea.

JJ reaches foreward towards the cooler, but then saw u bending down and decided to slap your ass.

It was a gentle tap, but you still felt it. And immediately straighten.

You turned around and saw JJ smiling. But when he saw your expression it dropped slightly.

“Had to see if it was tight,” JJ shrugged, walking backwards nervously.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you warned.

“Shitt, mama’s mad,” he joked, turning around quickly towards the other edge of the boat.

“I swear to God JJ!!” You screamed, chasing after him.

You nearly grabbed him, but he slipped away and jumped off the boat, diving head first.

You scoffed when his head rose up again.

“Whoo!” He said, flipping his hair causing water to splash off.

“You touch my ass again, and I’ll kick yours,” you threatened, turning your back and taking a swig of the beer JJ left behind.

“The adrenaline from that, man,” JJ muttered as the whole group laughed under the sun.

“Hey,” JJ said to you ask you both walked down the dock and headed to the grounds of the Chateau.

“What now?” You asked impatiently.

“I thought uh we could talk?” JJ mentioned. Throwing on one of his cut off tees.

“About?” you shrugged him off.

JJ seemed as if he didn’t want to get into it. He just had been feeling off, about the way you were acting. Sure you were always this confident, tough girl, but he had recently seen the signs. Signs that he himself had exhibited. When he had a particularly nasty run in with his dad.

“Look-“

“Whatever...J...I don’t wanna get all serious right now. Rather just get high,” you shrugged, partly ignoring him in general.

JJ wasn’t one to get serious, and he could tell you were pushing him away. So he figured he’d wait until you were more open.

Before he could respond though, you disappeared down the hallway.

Your shower gave you time to think, you decided it was ultimately best to avoid JJ. You’ve been trying to push him away with your words, but that only made him chase you.

You walked into John B’s room and found a clean shirt to throw on, and used some pj shorts you left over.

Before you could collapse onto the bed, a light knock erupted on the open door.

“You crashing here tonight?” JJ asked you, throwing you a tired smile.

“I am, yeah. That a problem?” You responded.

JJ shook his head, “No, no. As long as your okay sleeping with me,” JJ said, pulling his shirt over his head and hopping into the bed.

“Wait what? I- I’m sleeping here! I had the couch last time,” you argued, gesturing for him to get out of the bed.

He continued to settle under the covers, “Pope’s got the couch,” he shrugged.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

“It’s no big deal, Y/n. I don’t snore, remember?” he yawns.

You groaned. But reluctantly got in the bed on the other side of JJ.

He smiled at you. You rolled your eyes and laughed at his stupid smirk.

But before you could get comfortable, your ears perked up at the sound of glass shattering.

You sat up straight, feeling your back tense and your fists clench.

JJ noticed at propped himself up against the wall.

After a few minutes, nothing happened. So JJ leaned over you and turned off the light.

You were zoned out, so you barely noticed.

“Goodnight,” JJ whispered. Lying flat on his back.

“Good-“ you stopped when you heard shouting from outside the door.

“What the fuck?! You broke this shit!” You heard John B shout.

Him and Pope began to fight. Throwing insults left and right.

“Dude that was my last picture!!! You broke the fucking frame!”

“Chill! Your acting like a maniac!” Pope retaliated.

You felt your anxiety kick in when the insults started getting worse. Neither one of the boys were going to stop.

You brought your hands over your ears and smashed your face into the pillow.

“We’re trying to sleep in here!!” JJ yelled from beside you. You gasped in surprise.

JJ then looked at you, through the dim lighting he could clearly tell you were struggling.

You started rolling to the side, closer to him.

He heard you muttering softly, “don’t listen...don’t listen,” you told yourself.

JJs heart dropped. He could hear everything from your heartbeat to your breathing.

JJ was frozen. He didn’t want to scare you away with affection, and he was also afraid of rejection.

You tossed closer to him. Burying your head in the pillow near his shoulder. Tensing up at the sound of raised voices.

“Uh...” JJ said, it was all he could think of, Y/n was acting totally out of character.

Y/n sniffled a bit. Then immediately moved back away from JJ.

“Oh shit...uh sorry,” you mumbled, realizing JJ was uncomfortable with you.

“No..uh no it’s okay,” JJ stuttered, but it was too late, you already turned around. Curing into a ball, facing the opposite way.

“Y/n, really. I’m just shocked...I mean you never act like this-“ JJ rambled.

“Shut up,” you told him. It was harsh and fast.

“Y/n I’m not trying to-“

“Stop talking, JJ,” you warned.

“You don’t have to push me away-“

“SHUT UP!” you shouted. Covering your ears with your palms once again. Breathing heavily again.

JJs lips pursed together, in his gut he felt hurt by the way you yelled at him. He wanted you to reveal what was bothering you.

JJ waited a few minutes before making any movements, just listening to you breathe.

He finally turned to face you, resting his head on one arm.

You flinched at the noise, but when you finally took in your surroundings you realized the yelling from John B had stopped.

You just realized the vulnerability you were in. You just snapped at JJ and he was going to want an explanation.

You turned to face him, eyes wide as you looked into his.

“I shouldn’t have...snapped at you like that. I’m...uh sorry,” you admitted.

You never usually apologized, it was something that had always been hard for you.

JJ took note of this, but didn’t want to point it out.

“You can talk to me, you know? I can tell there’s something you need to talk about,” JJ said, it was weird being this emotional with you.

“It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have freaked,” you said, taking in a deep breath.

“When your ready,” JJ said, letting you know that he wasn’t going to believe your lies that you were “fine”.

You nodded, and something in the way JJ was looking at you, made you slowly move towards him. Resting your head on his shoulder.

He smiled lightly, and you closed your eyes.

He sat still for a few moments, then, you felt his hand meet your waist.

It was a shock, which was why you reacted the way you did.

You gasped with a sharp intake of breath, pushing JJ back by the chest.

“Hey, hey, stay calm Y/n,”

“I- I... um,” you didn’t know what to say, you didn’t want to throw out another apology because then the other one would be meaningless.

“Did I hurt you?” JJ whispered.

You shook your head, “I’m just a little on edge...don’t mean to freak you out. Can we just forget this ever happened?” You pleaded.

“No,” JJ blurted.

You scoffed, “excuse me?”

“I’m not going to forget that you’ve been hiding this side of you. And it’s been eating you up,” JJ said, he knew a thing or two about ignoring emotions.

Soon enough everything you’ve bottled up would come out.

“That’s not what this is,” you lied, sitting up, your back up from the covers.

“Why did the yelling make you so upset?” JJ asked, mirroring your actions.

You bit your lip, trying to make a decision, “I just don’t like it,”

“Jesus, Y/n. I’ve already told you you’re not going to push me away!” JJ argued.

“You want to know my secrets, JJ? They’re secrets for a reason. Now for the last time, lay off!” you said, then before he could persist, you got out of the bed. Walking out the door.

“Y/n! C’mon!” JJ called after you, getting up as wel to follow you.

On your way out, you bumped into John B. He was passing back and forth, holding a picture frame filled with broken glass.

His hands were slightly bloody, he probably cut himself on the glass.

“Uh sorry,” you said nervously, stepping back.

“Get back in the room, Y/n,” John B groaned, he was annoyed, but also angry.

“I was actually going to sleep out here, with Pope or-“

John B cut you off, “you’re fucking delusional Y/n! You think you can just come and stay in my house whenever you want?!” He shouted.

You stepped back, fear settling, you didn’t like being yelled at.

“No. I need a place to stay. You-you said I could crash here,” you mentioned.

“John B scoffed. My house is for the damned Y/n! Me? My dad is gone! My mom? Gone too! You just go back home to your perfect little life!” He screamed, waving his hands left and right.

Tears started to fall involuntary, you kept walking backwards until your back collided with JJ.

“Hey, John B, chill alright?” JJ reasoned.

“You know why JJ’s here?! His mom fucking dipped and his dad beats him!” John B went on.

“W-what?” You didn’t know that, you turned to see JJ. He was staring at the floor.

“Go home Y/n. To your perfect little life because no one fucking wants you here!” John B raged.

Your hand wiped tears off your cheeks. You wanted to leave but you were frozen.

“You watch your mouth, man.” JJ stepped foreward, “don’t take your anger out on her. She’s had enough,”

John B didn’t say anything after that, and you didn’t want to give him the chance. So you left the chateau, running out the door to nowhere. Your destination wouldn’t ever be home as long as you had a say in it.

“Y/n!!!” JJ’s voice called your name. But you didn’t stop, you didn’t stop running.

JJ turned his adrenaline on for running, usually the cops did that for him, but he knew you needed him. He couldn’t leave you after what had just happened.

part 2

#jj maybank #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #outer banks #obx netflix #jj imagine jjxreader obx #obx jj #obx jj maybank x you #outerbanks #jj outer banks #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank blog #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank fic #jj maybank masterlist #jj maybank x y/n

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wastelandlovingscenarios · 4 years ago

Note

Head canon: Romanced companions and their first kiss with f!sole? How’d it happened? When did it happen? Where'd it happen? Who initiated?

Crushing companions with their first kiss with f!sole ! 😍

i mixed up the crushes and the already romanced so it’s a variety. this took me forever to finish because my brain farted at least 5 times in the making so it didn’t turn out the way i wanted.

(deacons part could be seen as the aftermath of that one prompt of sole confessing their love to him before leaving to the institute!)

Danse:

everything would happen post blind betrayal, when danse is on the road to recovery and is doing much better, his life finally getting back on track. though he does slowly regain his confidence back, it doesn’t stop the sudden mood drops that tend to hit him like a train from time to time.

sole would know when it happens; danse becomes quieter than usual and looks drained upon first glance. she knows that familiar fidget and the way his head hangs low from time to time that somethings on his mind. no matter where they are, sole will always drop everything and kindly excuse them both to pull him away to the nearest private area.

their first kiss would happen in the privacy of their own room. they’d both be preparing for a short mission, casually packing their stuff in silence. she’d turn around to talk to danse but pause, watching as he stared at the photo of sole and her family that laid on the counter with a sad expression.

sole would drop whatever she’s holding and make her way to him, placing an a hand on his bicep. “hey.” she whispered as she looked up at him with a small smile. he didn’t smile back, much to her distress, and instead continued looking at the picture displayed in front of him.

her thumb brushed his bicep softly as she tried to speak in a soothing voice. “what’s wrong?” danse would close his eyes, shaking his head. “it’s nothing.” of course, sole wouldn’t believe it one bit. “you know i’m here for you.”

after a long period of silence, he’d let out a breath, still unable to lock eyes with her. “it pains me knowing that i can’t provide you with the life you desire. i can’t give you what a real man would be able to.” sole would wince at the sadness lurking in his voice and she’d move closer to him, “i’m not real, sole. i’m a synth. someone who can’t give you a family, someone who can’t give you something real.”

sole would move her hand to his shoulder and gently push him away from the counter to face her before he could let out another word. her hand would sprawl against his chest as she tiptoed to place a kiss on the former paladins lips, sending him to a state of utter shock.

he wouldn’t know what to do at first and would simply stare down at sole who continued to kiss him despite his lack of reaction. once sole pressed into the kiss more, he finally kissed back just as hard, closing his eyes in bliss. his hands found her waist and he pulled her in closely as if he couldn’t get enough of her.

his mouth followed hers in desperation to continue the kiss as she pulled back, slowly opening her eyes. she’d grab his hand and placed it on his chest, allowing danse to feel his own heart beat tremendously from the kiss.

“you are real. this-,” she whispered quietly, pressing his hand down more, “- heartbeat is proof that you are. you may be a synth but it doesn’t make you less of a human. i will still love you just as much no matter what or who you are.” he would still be dazed from the kiss, his fingers twitching at the feeling of his heart beating through his chest.

with her other hand, she’d caress his cheek lovingly, “what we have? it’s real, danse. you are the realest thing i have in my life and i’m so grateful you’re here with me. trust me when i say that this is the life that i want.” danse would stare down at her with a soft expression as she continued, “now a life without you is something i don’t want.”

there wouldn’t be words that could explain the amount of relief and joy that filled his chest so he pulled her into a tight embrace instead, burying his face into her hair in an attempt to hide his blush. “thank you.” he’d mutter against her hair and she’d smile, returning the hug. “anytime.”

Deacon:

deacon would take his feelings for sole seriously when he’s placed in a position where there’s a chance of losing her. that being said, her being transported to the institute with no idea if she’d make it back hit him harder than it shouldve.

he’d spend endless nights praying, crying that sole was still in one piece somewhere and that she was at least safe. deacon beats himself up over the fact that he took advantage of soles kindness she offered him and regretted every moment he wasted by being distant.

him praying in the north church wasn’t a common sight, but god, it was the only thing he could resort to at this point. he closed his eyes as he hunched over in his seat, listening to the sounds of the now silent building.

everything they’ve done, all the memories they’ve shared replay in his mind like a broken record and he begins to breathe heavily, his chest bubbling up with that bitter feeling that surrounded him for days.

it would be silent for a few minutes and he’d hear a few footsteps echo behind him. he took a deep breath, collecting himself so he wouldn’t appear troubled to whoever needed him at the moment, “i’ll be there in a moment.”

“and here i was thinking you missed me.” a familiar voice rang out and he jolted up, looking over his shoulder to find the one person he’s been waiting for staring at him with a tired smile. “sole!” he jumped from his seat and pulled her into a tight embrace, lifting her off the ground.

she’d let out a surprised, “woah!”, before returning his embrace with just as much force. once he placed her back on the ground, he hid his face in her neck, unable to loosen his grip around her torso. “guess you really missed me..” sole laughed into his ‘hair’, lightly caressing the back of his head.

deacon would pull back, moving both his hands on either side of her face as he spoke in a voice filled with disbelief. “missed you? you had me fucking terrified you weren’t gonna come back!” he brushed his thumb against her cheeks, resting his forehead on hers as he spoke in a shaky whisper, “i was scared. when they crossed your name off the board, i just- i didn’t know what to do. sole, i-“

sole would cut his words short as she pulled him down onto her lips, pulling him close. deacon would freeze in shock at first but would close his eyes, his grip on her torso growing more firm the more he melted into the kiss. this felt right. no matter how many times he tried to avoid it, this was what he’s always yearned for. now that it was happening? there was just no way he could run away any longer.

she would pull back, leaning her forehead on his once more, locking eyes with him, “i’ll always come back for you.” she smiled warmly, making his heart swell. he let out a soft sigh and pulled her closer against his body, a playful smile dancing on his face. “guess this is the part where i say i love you, huh?”

sole let out a small, genuine laugh in response and they both leaned in for another kiss under the light of the church, the silence and tranquility of the moment surrounding them.

Maccready:

mac would have to be in love with sole for quite a while for him to truly initiate a kiss. the first time they kiss is when mac informs sole about medtek and the situation with his son. of course, sole being a mother and whatnot, she immediately sympathizes with maccready and gets to work as soon as she can.

even if mac had told her it was alright to finish some of her duties before they could head down, she denied without another word and refused to hear anything else come from his mouth.

he’d feel bad at first for pestering sole about it and pulling her away from her responsibilities but would immediately feel a sense of loyalty and happiness knowing that she was more than willing to go out of her way for his needs.

sole would make a stop at diamond city to stock up on items before heading there and smile at maccready who blushed, “we’ll get that cure. i promise.”

once they’d reach medtek, sole would take every challenge head on without a complaint and a determined look on her face as she cleared the area. once they had reached the lab and cleared it out, she would immediately jump in to search for the so said cure.

after scavenging through drawers and cabinets, sole finally let out a squeal and called out mac within seconds of finding it, “mac! i found it! i found the cure!” and he would immediately run over to her, eyes falling to the serum locked in her hand.

he’d gently take it from her, a big grin growing on his face as he bounced excitedly. “we did it..” mac would beam, staring at the serum with disbelief, “holy crap, we actually did it! we just gave duncan a fighting chance to live!”

he’d instantly envelope her in a tight hug out of pure joy, nearly knocking her down in the process. sole would hug him back, letting out a warm laugh at his happiness.

mac would pull back, tears glistening in his eyes as he kept his hands on soles shoulders, sending her a huge smile. “god i’m so happy i could frickin’ kiss you!” and upon realizing the words leaving his mouth and the shocked expression forming on soles face, he’d immediately hold both his hands up in surrender.

a look of horror would cross his face, realizing he outright confessed to her without control and a huge blush would form as he stuttered out excuses. “i mean, i would never kiss you!” he panicked, realizing how bad that sounded and tried to pull anything out of his ass to save him, “n-not saying that i’d never kiss you! a-anyone would if they were given the chance. i mean i totally would but it’s not like you’d ever kiss me!”

sole would cover her mouth and giggle at his embarrassed babbling as he tried to recover from his mistake as quick as possible. she knew he meant well so she took no offense to his comment and took his hand in hers, staring up at him with a smile. “shut up and kiss me already, mac.”

a small ‘o’ with form on his mouth and he’d shut up as she patiently waited for his next move. “wait, r-really?!” she’d roll her eyes and grabbed his collar, pulling him down so his lips would meet hers.

he wouldn’t know what to do at first as he stared down at sole with a surprised expression and a heavy blush but would soon send her a needy kiss in return, his hand finding her waist while the other held the serum tightly.

it’s been a while since he kissed anyone and god did he miss it. he missed having someone by his side to call his and spend his days with. someone he could call home and love forever. he wasn’t gonna let this moment slip and he’d be dammed if he didn’t treasure every moment of it.

sole would release his collar, retreating from the kiss and smile up at him with a blush. he’d look at her dreamily, his eyes following her as she moved back. “i don’t know how i’ll ever be able to pay you back for this,” he said softly, trying to steady himself, “i owe you big time.”

“all i care about is curing your son and besides,” she ruffled his hair, earning a pleased sigh from him, “that kiss was more than enough to pay me back.”

“i hope that wasn’t the last time.” he inwardly begged that she reciprocated the feelings he held, biting his lips as he waited for an answer. luckily for him, she did. “not like i’d let it be.” and he let out a relieved grin, pulling her into a hug once more.

Hancock:

it would happen upon confession between the two. it wouldn’t happen in a city, settlement, or in any crowded place, but in a temporary shelter they decided to bunker down in for the night.

“i’m gonna change.” she’d mutter, grabbing her bag and heading towards the vacant room of the house. hancock would let out a hum, acknowledging her words before rolling out the sleeping bags on the floor.

while changing, sole realizes that this might’ve been the perfect opportunity for her to admit her feelings. there was no one; only him and her in this very house and it wasn’t very often they found themselves in privacy, often being pulled left and right. and if hancock didn’t feel the same way, well.. well she’d just have to deal with it. at least in some way, it’ll give her closure.

after putting the last of her clothes on, she’d shyly call out for the ghoul, tapping on the door to attract his attention. “hey hancock.” she wouldn’t hear the sounds of his feet shuffling towards the room due to the loud pounding of her heart. she’d only realize how close he was to the door when she had heard his voice across it. “sunshine?”

she’d see the door knob wobbling and panic would immediately wash over her, causing her to grab the handle. “don’t open the door, please.” the desperation in her voice was embarrassing but there was no other way she could truly confront him about it other than this. “are you alright? is there something wrong?”

she’d take a deep breath- it was now or never. through stutters and a shaky voice, she’d respond. “y-yes, i’m fine. i just, uh, i just wanted to talk to you, hancock..” her voice would die for a mere second before speaking again, “.. about something important.”

“i’m listening.” he responded, voice muffled through door but still comprehensible. “hancock, i just-“ she composed herself, “-i didn’t know how to tell you this and- and i was just so afraid you were gonna hate me if i did.”

a lengthy silence filled the air for the moment before hancock decided to break it, “you know i’d never hate you, sunshine.” soles hands would begin to shake, wanting to get the confession done and over with so she could finally be at peace.

“i know you wouldn’t hate me, i just- i like you hancock, okay?” she admitted, feeling herself choke on her own words, “you make me feel so safe and happy and- and i- fuck. i know you don’t feel the same way.” silence followed after and she closed her eyes, feeling the tears beginning to build up.

she expected a rejection, so why did it hurt so much now that it was happening? despite her tears, she tried to say anything to end the subject and send him away, but nothing came out except a strangled sob.

her eyes shot open upon hearing the doorknob turn and before she could rush up to lock the door, hancock was already bursting through it with a soft expression. she froze, unsure of what to do as her face reddened, tears falling out of her eyes.

“hanc-“ he’d move forward before another word could leave her mouth and he’d crash his lips with hers, wrapping an arm around her waist as he pulled her in closer. she squeaked in surprise at first, slowly processing the moment for a mere second but immediately kissed back, placing both hands on his chest.

she’d try to catch her breath as he withdrew, keeping his face close to hers. “what are you talking about? i’ve had it bad for ya for ages now.” he whispered against her lips, “was kinda getting tired of waiting, thought of doing the job myself.” sole gripped on his shirt desperately as he brought his hand to her face, brushing a thumb over her lips, “i want you just as bad, trust me.”

“don’t stop.” she entreated and he chuckled huskily. “wasn’t planning to, sunshine.” and just like that, he’d kick the door shut behind him, locking his lips against hers once more, but much more passionately this time around.

Nick Valentine:

nick is a man of class and had planned this for a few weeks, the idea dwelling in his mind for a good period. he wants the moment to be absolutely special and memorable for him and sole. this is the first time he’s ever showed such interest for an individual after all.

he’ll plan this romantic ass date for sole and go out of his way to make sure it turns out perfect and exceeds post war standards. a romantic dinner date, a walk around the city or at a peaceful area, and perhaps a long talk while doing so.

you can also expect he does stuff like flowers when he greets you, a nice outfit to post war expectations, and all the ins and outs of being a prewar gentleman. holding doors open, compliments galore, and so much more.

as they’d take the long way home to sanctuary, they’d chat about their life before the war and life during it, wanting to get to know each other better as individuals and not as people trying to survive. he’d hold her hand gently, lighting brushing his thumb over her knuckles.

he’d drop her in front of her home and hold both her hands in his with a stare full of happiness and love. “i had a great time,” he’d grin at her, “i hope the feelings mutual. i’d be honored to be given another chance to take you out.”

sole would shyly smile at nick. “of course. id love that.” he’d lean forward and take one of his hands to place on her shoulder as he kissed her on the cheek softly as a way of saying thank you. she would smile at him teasingly as he pulled away, standing up straight. “is that all, mr. valentine? i was expecting just a little bit more.”

nick would find himself shocked at her boldness at first, but then he realized that this is sole- of course she’d pull some crazy move like that. quietly, he’d let out a chuckle and put a strand of her hair behind her ear. “daring tonight, aren’t we?”

sole would let out a playful pout, rolling her eyes at his comment. “very much so.” he would move in closer, holding her chin gently and tilting her head up as he closed the distance between them. though his lips were cold and tasted of metal and ciggerates, she found comfort in the way his lips moved with hers as she gripped onto his sleeve loosely.

he pulled away, sending her a small grin, his eyes illuminating in the darkness of the night. “ain’t that a way to end the night.” nick would comment, “couldn’t have imagined anything better.” sole would flush, looking up at him with a timid smile and he’d ruffle her hair affectionally, “get some sleep, alright? after all, a beautiful girl like you needs her beauty sleep though youd still be stunning either way.”

she would playfully swat his arm, letting out a giggle before heading to her door. “you’re so cheesy.” nick would tip his hat, “only for the best. goodnight, sweetheart.”

“goodnight nick.” she’d return his words, sending him one final grin before rushing inside her home with a happy heart. quickly, she got ready for bed with a jump in her step, wanting tomorrow to come by as soon as possible.

Preston:

itll be a long while before a first kiss happens between the two. they’d have to be already dating for it to happen and it would probably occur post institute when everything’s a little more settled down.

in fact, it’d happen on a peaceful night where both of him and sole would be in bed, resting from all their responsibilities. sole would be fast asleep as preston watched her with a loving expression, a smile plastered on his face as he observed her.

he didn’t know how he got here or what he did to deserve a life like this. one moment, he was stuck in concord, debating whether he’d make it out alive with a heavy weight on his shoulders and now, he was laying next to his other half he’d never thought he’d find, happier than he had ever been his whole life.

he dwelled on how innocent and pure this moment was as he gently moved a strand of hair out of her face to get a better view. the way her chest rose with every breath, the soft pink that stained her cheeks, the quiet snores, and how relaxed she look while she sleeping only made him fall in love with her more.

as he continued to stare at her features, his eyes fell on her lips and he flushed, wondering how it felt upon touch, whether that was on his fingers, skin, or his lips.. or that was what he thought. what he really wanted was to kiss her right then and there. he wanted to feel the softness of her lips against his more than ever.

he would be so focused on her mouth and lost in his thoughts that he wouldn’t notice sole, who had woken up, staring at him with a blush. it didn’t take a blind man to know what preston was thinking and he made it very visible and obvious for sole to figure out exactly what he wanted.

“if you wanted to kiss me, you could just ask.” she teased with a whisper, softly chuckling at the sight of his eyes going wide as he pulled back in shock and embarrassment. she reached over to caress his cheek, sending him a reassuring smile. “im okay with you doing it, preston. you know that already.”

“i-i, um-“ he stammered, trying to catch his words, “- are you sure you’re o-okay with it? we could always wait till you’re ready.” sole scooted closer to him, “you’re my boyfriend, of course i’m okay with it.” she shushed him before he could continue worrying, “and yes, i’m ready. i always have been, i was just worried you weren’t.”

he swallowed nervously, knowing that was all he needed to know before he could truly initiate the kiss. “i could say the same.”

sole noticed his tenseness and moved her hand to his arm, squeezing it softly. “relax. it’ll be easier once you do.” and he did. he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in and stared at her soft expression, feeling himself calm down. yeah, it was much easier to think now that he was.

he closed his eyes as he leaned forward, his hands shakily moving to her waist. sole did the same and met him halfway, softly brushing over his lips at first only to be met with a much more deeper kiss. although the kiss seemed a little awkward and tense at first, they both eventually melted into it.

sole sighed in pleasure, snaking her arms around his shoulders as preston rolled over so he was above her. this went on for a few more seconds until they both lost breath, eventually pulling back with a pant. sole would slowly open her eyes to find preston on top of her with a reddened face and shy smile.

she returned his smile with a soft laugh, bantering, “someone got a little carried away.” preston looked down at her and ruffled her hair gently. “can’t help it if i have someone as beautiful as you as my partner.”

“corny.” she muttered with a grin, pulling him back down slowly so they could lock lips once more.

Sturges:

even though sturges is horribly inexperienced and hesitant of things that are foreign to him- such as love, in this case - he’s willing to let that go just to be with sole for the rest of his life. he’d be a fucking fool to let someone as amazing as her slip through his fingers.

there are many days where sole protects his ass from dangers and he feels guilt, knowing it should be the other way around. yet, he can’t help but avoid violence, knowing that it isn’t something he’s used to.

but on many days, he protects her too. it may not always be with weapons and violence like sole does, but instead with moments where he cares for her health and takes care of her on her bad days. whether emotionally or physically.

the moment with their first kiss happens, however, is when sole falls ill with a fever and isn’t healthy enough to function properly. “i told ya to slow it down a little, sweetheart.” he mutters, sitting by her bedside as he moves the hair out of her face, “some days, ya gotta know when to take breaks.”

“i k-know but i have.. things to do..” she whispered hoarsely with half lidded eyes. the way her face flushed due to the heat of her skin made him worry only more and he sighed softly, moving his hand to cup her cheek. “the world can wait a little, sweetheart. understand?”

sole looked at him for a moment before nodding obediently, leaning into his touch. “good.” he smiled gently, continuing to caress her face. soon enough, his smile faltered into a worried expression, feeling her temperature rise immensely after a short period of time. he’d carefully pull his hand away, not wanting to wake up sole and rise from his seat to go to fetch some supplies.

before he could completely retreat his hand, he’d feel a small one captured his wrist weakly and sturges would look over his shoulder to find sole staring at him. “don’t leave, please.” she’d plead, her voice quivering in what seemed like fear. “i... don’t you to.. go.”

itd take him a moment to process the scene but once sole let out another, “please”, he’d break out of his trance, immediately taking action to resolve the issue. he’d turn to face her and loosened the hand wrapped around his wrist, interlocking fingers with her. he’d lean forward, bending down to place a soft kiss on her lips as a message of reassurance that he had absolutely no intentions to leave her in this condition.

sturges would let it linger for a moment before pulling back, chuckling softly at the dazed expression planted on her face. “i ain’t goin’ no where. i just need to grab your medicine and some water, ‘lright?” he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, his free hand cupping her face before standing up straight, “i’ll be back before you know it.”

she brushed her thumb over his hand, another murmur escaping her lips, “i’ll be waiting then.” he nodded, squeezing her hand before retrieving it. sturges headed towards the the exit of the room, stealing one last glance of her still figure before leaving. he’d be sure to give her a thousand more kisses once she recovered.

Gage:

it’s a moment of hesitation and vulnerability. sole would be tipsy from a get together, but still sober enough to operate and gage would take care of her. she’d be on her bed at fizztop, cuddled in her sheets.

quietly, he’d be complaining about having to go through the trouble of taking care of the overboss but secretly kows that he’s more than willing to do so above anything else. “lay the hell down, boss. don’t make it harder than it ‘lready is.” she’s pout and let out a small, “fine”, following his orders.

“you’re lucky you’re my boyfrien’ or i woulda thrown you off this floor.” she slurred, glaring at him from across the room as he began placing their stuff down at a desk nearby. “and yer lucky i’m protectin’ yer sorry ass from gettin’ killed out there.” he shot back, sending her a glare in return. he turned away from her, wanting to hide the blush on his face upon hearing the word, ‘boyfriend’, escape her mouth.

sole let out a small ‘hmph’ and crossed her arms, laying back down on the bed. gage grabbed a bottle of water from the counter before heading to her bed, placing it on the desk nearby and turned around to leave her at peace.

“i never said you could leave.” she’d complain, almost childishly. he’d look over his shoulder, giving her the side eye for a moment before pulling a chair nearby and placing it near her bed. he sat down with a huff and leaned back, trying to ignore the stares sole sent him. even if he wanted to say no, he couldn’t. she had his hand wrapped around her finger and there was just no goddamn way he could deny her wishes.

“come here.” she’d order, stretching both her hands out as a signal to move closer. he wanted to make an excuse not to, say a denial even, but instead moved forward to her curious hands, silently wondering what she’d do if he’d give her the chance. he didn’t trust himself to speak, not when he was placed in such a vulnerable position.

sole cupped his face, tracing every scar that littered his skin with a dreamy gaze. his throat tightened at the sight of her looking so innocent; something that she refused to show outside of the walls of fizztop. he didn’t know what to say or do in this situation, only secretly admiring as the moon shone on her face through the darkness of the night and god was she beautiful.

her hands would slowly move down his face and fall on his lips, her fingers soon brushing over the soft skin. the way she gently ran her hands on his skin felt so foreign to him, but it didn’t feel wrong. for once, gage wasn’t afraid of such contact and he didn’t want to pull away, even if his mind was telling him to. perhaps he was so used to his usual rough routine to the point where he didn’t realize how much he yearned for this.

“i’ve always wanted to kiss you,” sole admitted, her cheeks dusting red as she observed his lips with wonder, “i’ve always dreamt about doing it.” and he’d stiffen at her touch upon realization. gage wanted the same thing just as much and there was absolutely no denying that.

maybe for once, he could be vulnerable; show his soft side and allow himself to indulge in the moment instead of pushing it away. “if you wanted to, you could,” he said, trying to keep his tough exterior up, “yer the overboss after all. nothin’s stoppin’ ya.”

sole continued brushing over his lips, “it’s not the fact that i want to. it’s if you want to do it also, gage.” he’d try to swallow down his pride for once, but nothing came out and he couldn’t find the words to say. he’s fucked a ton of girls beforehand so why’s it so difficult to admit that he wanted to kiss her.

“do you want to?” she’d ask hesitantly, her eyes flickering up to meet his. ‘fuck it.’ he thought with a skip in his heart, giving her a hard stare. “yes.” and that was all she needed to hear. she pulled him closer to her, connecting her lips to his slowly. gage would close his eyes and allow the kiss to happen, keeping his hands to himself to avoid any desires taking over.

he’s kissed a ton of girls before, but this? this was different. it sent an electrifying feeling within his body and his heart had began beating in way it had never done before. for once, this was something he did not want to let go.

he felt sole grab his hand, sliding it under her shirt and he immediately withdrew, pulling back. he wanted this so bad but fuck, he needed to know if she truly wanted it and it wasn’t the heat of the moment nor the alcohol. sole looked at him with wide eyes, “gage?”

“boss, you sure you want this?” he’d ask her without missing a beat. “cause once ya give me the go, yer in for a long night.” sole would laugh at his indirect consideration and take his hand in hers once more, placing it back under her shirt. gage felt himself grow rigid at the sight of her batting her eyelashes, “im sober enough to make decisions like these, now shut up and come here.”

he’d immediately throw off any weapons slung over his shoulder and remove his armor, rising from his seat. he pushed her down until her back was on the bed and climbed on top with the hungriest eyes ever. oh it was gonna be a long night, alright.

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mrsgiovanna · 4 years ago

Text

A series of Firsts - Don Giorno x Fem! Reader

A cute Valentines day scenario with husband Giogio, nsfw-ish toward the end, just something that's been on my mind for a little while. Cut for length🥺💭❤️

Word count: 2318

Everything that could have gone wrong had inevitably gone wrong. It was the first Valentines day that you and your beloved would be spending together as a married couple, so needless to say, you wanted to make it a tiny bit more noteworthy than the usual extravagant outings you’ve grown accustomed to. You knew that things like this weren’t really important, but blamed your sentimental self for wanting to commemorate each “first” event in your first year of wedded life. As luck would have it though, every single one of your plans would be foiled, however, in retrospect, your end goal would actually be achieved.

There was still a chill in the February air, but it was a beautiful sunny day nonetheless. Giorno had already left by the time your sleep had broken, but you had woken up to a beautiful red rose and a small heart shaped chocolate on his pillow with a simple note in his handwriting. You smiled when you read the note, three simple words, but it meant more to you than anything. You lazed about in bed for a while, thinking about all the things you wanted to do today. The villa was quiet, save for the few guards that Giorno would not compromise on, you had given most of his other staff the weekend off, wanting it to just be the two of you. Or so you’d thought…

The spanner foiling this plan, came in the form of some important conference call with an associate from the Speedwagon foundation. Well, calling him an “associate” might be a bit cold, seeing that it was Giorno’s relative, Jotaro Kujo, who wanted to speak to him himself. Giorno knew it must have been something very important for Jotaro to reach out to him of all people given the circumstances and how suspicious he was in the beginning. So off he went, you presumed to his study, to discuss whatever issue was plaguing Jotaro. Deciding it was time to get out of bed, you quickly showered and threw on something comfortable, knowing you were going to put on a knock out outfit later on. No sooner had you stepped out of the master bedroom did you hear a loud bang, and felt something whizzing past you, missing your face by a hair’s breath. Being immediately on guard, you summoned your stand ready to attack the enemy that had infiltrated your home when you heard the familiar whining of Mista’s sex pistols…

“Mistaaaaa, he’s not here, can we go eat now?”

“Well good morning to you too number 5,” you said to the miniscule stand, who started to hide himself in your hair to escape the harassment from number 3.

“Awww has Mista has been starving you guys again? How awful, lets go find you guys something to eat,” you teased, earning an annoyed look from the gunslinger, to which he retorted, “Excuse me, they’re well fed and have nothing to complain about!”

As you both made your way to the kitchen, you asked Mista what brought him to the villa this early in the morning. You were hoping against your better judgment that it wasn’t anything too serious, but by the time Mista was done relaying his report about the unrest in some of the outlying areas, you knew it had to be nipped in the bud before it gained momentum. Wanting to feed the tiny gremlins, but being unsure of what they would eat in the morning, you set up some cured meats, fruits, nuts and some warmed cornetto on a platter.

The delicious smell of warm, buttery pastry had whet your appetite as well, so you decided to warm up more pastries for you and Mista and started making cappuccinos for the both of you. By this point you and Mista had been around each other for long enough and had been through so much together, that the bond felt more familial than anything else.

Setting down the food in front of you and Mista, the facts of his report were still playing on your mind.

“So where is Giorno anyway? I thought he’d taken some time off, which is why I came straight here,” asked Mista as he bit off a piece of his strawberry preserve filled croissant.

“He’s in the middle of an important conference call, he might be a while… what do you think about what’s happening in in the new territories? Do you think we can handle the situation among ourselves?”

Perplexed by your question, Mista thought for a while before answering. “I suppose they aren’t the strongest stand users, between you, Fugo and myself, we should be able to take them out if the need arises… listen, I don’t like where you’re going with this,”

It was all the confirmation you needed as you spoke with determination, “Let’s go then, if we can end this before it has a chance to blow up then we should do it. Call Fugo, I’m sure he’ll be willing to go with us, I’ll text Gio to let him know.” It was the first time you’d taken a bold decision like that without so much as consulting with Giorno… and just like that, you had thrown the second spanner in the works without even knowing it, because what should have taken a couple of hours had ended up taking the better part of the day.

“I wonder…. where could she be… ” mused Giorno as he walked around the villa looking for you. The conference call had taken longer than expected so he sought you out to make it up to you, but you were nowhere to be found. Deciding to call you, he’d come across the text message you’d sent him just before you left. His eyes darkened as he tried to call you.

“Oh hi Gio, are you okay? We’re kinda in the middle of something here,” you answered, trying to sound unfazed despite the ruckus taking place behind you.

“Cara, how can you just rush off into a dangerous situation like this? I’m very upset with you, come back here immediately,”

You felt very guilty when he still addressed you with his usual kindness despite how angry he sounded.

“Gio, I’m so sorry, I’ll explain everything when we get back, it will be over soon I promise,” you say, trying to placate both his temper and your own feelings.

“You guys have an hour to come back, failing which, I’ll have to come there myself. Honestly, you’re lucky I love you as much as I do, amore…” with that Giorno ended the call and went back to his study, hoping that you guys would be okay.

Upon arriving at Giorno’s study, you found him to be the picture of serenity, quietly working at his desk with some soft music playing in the background. He was relieved to see that you three delinquents were okay, most of all, you- his wife, who unfortunately was the biggest troublemaker of the lot, however he didn’t let that relief show on his face…

Just as Mista was about to speak, Giorno raised his hand to silence him,

“Did everything work out as expected in your marvelous misadventure?”

“you could say so… the job is done”

“is anyone hurt?”

“no, everyone’s alright,”

“then go home, it’s been a long day,” sensing everyone’s surprise, Giorno explained himself further.

“I trust you all, I want to make that clear… but for God’s sake, at least 1 person needs to be the voice of reason, nonetheless, I’m glad everything worked out for the best, just think before wildly rushing out next time,”

Mista and Fugo left the office leaving you alone with Giorno. You waited to hear the little electronic beep that the door made when it locked before you gently lowered yourself into Giorno’s strong arms, settling down comfortably in his lap.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you tesoro… you have so much to do, I just wanted to share some of the burden with you,”

“I know bella, I’m sorry too, I didn’t mean to snap at you earlier, I was just worried, I’d like to keep you away from these things as much as possible,”

“I can hold my own, you know,”

“I know bella, but you shouldn’t have to,” replied Giorno, lazily weaving his fingers through your hair. He drew your head closer for a kiss, starting off gentle, growing ever more passionate until you both stopped yourselves.

“Come amore mio, there isn’t a lot of time left, you have to get ready for our date, remember?”

Reluctantly, you got off his lap and left him with a feather light kiss to his temple.

After a long while of titivating with your look, you made your way back to Giorno’s study, finding him dreamily admiring the final seconds of the winter sunset. The fading golden light made his hair shine like spun gold and drew out the various jeweled specks of his eyes. He turns towards you, and his expression changes entirely, as if time itself had stood still.

“What do you think?” you ask, doing a little twirl and ending off in a pose, you giggle at your gesture.

“Sei cosi bella, you’re absolutely breathtaking amore mio,” Giorno says as he extends his arm to you, “are you ready to go?”

You smile sweetly and link your arm through his, just as you’re about to leave, the electricity cuts out.

No matter, you both wait patiently, expecting the generator to kick in at any moment, but nothing happens. Giorno’s study is more akin to a bunker, an impenetrable fortress built with the intention of keeping you both safe if the need ever arose. Grabbing his cellphone, Giorno calls one of the guards and asks him to check out the problem, as you are effectively stuck until you can get electricity back into the mechanism of the door.

You tinkered around the draws and cupboards, and managed to find all the aromatherapy candles and burners you got your husband to help him relax, you would have been annoyed that they were buried away if you weren’t as relieved as you were. It was quickly getting dark, and without the twinkling lights of the skyline, the room was becoming evermore difficult to navigate. After lighting up a considerable amount of the candles, you had to admit that the atmosphere was quite romantic.

“Well, they’ve found the problem, but can’t say how long it will take to fix, I could always try to use GE to break us out,”

“Break us out and do what my love? It looks like whole city is out, we’re probably in the safest place there is, come on, relax, we’ll just wait it out,” you reply as you pull him over to the couch. “see, this is nice right?” you say as you take your usual spot in his arms.

“Of course cara, I’m sorry, you’ve been patient with me recently, I know I’ve been very busy, so I just wanted to spoil you a bit,” Giorno’s voice was so gentle as he spoke, his fingers tracing circles onto your arm.

You were relieved as you felt him relax under your embrace, “for what it’s worth, happy Valentines day tesoro, I know things didn’t go according to anyone’s plan, but I’m still happy right here,” you utter, burying your face into the crook of Giorno’s neck.

“Happy Valentine’s day Amore mio, at least we’ll never forget this, and besides we have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”

The temperature started to drop the later it got, so Giorno decided to make use of his fireplace to make sure you didn’t get too cold, your slinky little evening dress offered little protection from the cold, not that he was complaining, it just meant that you would snuggle up closer to him. A yearning stirred in him when he looked back at you, bundled up in his large coat on the couch, you just looked so beautiful, the candlelight danced about in your eyes and your smile was the purest he’d ever seen.

“Are you okay bella? The room should warm up in a few moments. Ah, I know what would speed up the process… I recently acquired a very impressive bottle of wine…” mused Giorno as he found the bottle of Screaming Eagle Cabernet.

“Gio, isn’t that an insanely expensive bottle?”

“I’d hope so, it’s the 1992 vintage, imagine, we were just kids when this was made” he quipped, genuinely excited to crack open the extravagant alcohol.

“I thought you’d save something like that for a huge milestone like the birth of our first child or something of that magnitude. I just know how pricey it is,”

“Ah the birth of our child… conception of our child, it’s all the same”

Perplexed you asked, “caro, what are you saying?”

“What I’m saying bella, is that we’re freezing, the night is young and all we have for entertainment is each other’s wonderful company, whatever happens from here on out is up to the gods of fate, salute,”

And with a clink of your glasses and a gaze into each other’s eyes, you both took a sip of the wine. There was something irresistible about the way Giorno’s eyes glinted in the soft lighting. With a confident smirk, he drew you in for a passionate kiss, giving his hands permission to explore your beautiful body, drawing out those pretty sounds and lustful expressions that only he had the privilege of observing. Giorno was an intuitive lover, and you completely surrendered yourself to him. You both spent the rest of the night reveling in each other’s beauty and affection.

With arms and legs intertwined lovingly, breathing even and peaceful, you both slept blissfully unaware of the plans the mischievous gods of fate had in store for you.

#giorno giovanna x reader #giorno x reader #jjba x reader #giorno giovanna #don giovanna #don giorno #giorno #jjba #vento aureo #golden wind #valentines day #jojo's bizarre adventure #giogio #my writing #jjba giorno #jjba fluff #jjba vento aureo #n/sfw

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years ago

Text

Poisoned Veins

Prompts: Hi! Feel free to ignore this, but I'd love it if you could write some sort of Merlin (preferably Merthur) fanfic involving the serket sting and S3 E1/2? Maybe just after Merlin gets back, or after the battle, or something (not too long after the sting, is what I'm saying). Either good or bad Morgana, I don't mind. But lots of nice hurt/comfort with Merlin and Arthur, emphasis on the comfort (I love your fics, especially the relationship between Merlin and Arthur, so...) - anon

May I ask for a Merlin&Arthur fic? I love how you write them together! - anon

Thanks for the prompts babes!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: implied/referenced mind control

Pairings: merthur and mergana, but they can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 4108

Was it the stupidest thing he’s done all day? Probably not. The stupidest thing he’s done in the last hour?

Most definitely.

But as he stands here, in the vault, deep under stone and soldiers, he faces Morgana and closes his eyes.

Golden light. Then silence.

The pit of his stomach opens up, his power spilling and spilling into the air between them. It burns his eyes, even through his lids, the tips of his fingers tingling with the excess magic. It hurts. It’s the best he’s felt in ages.

He hears Morgana gasp in front of him.

He opens his eyes to see her, powerful in her armor, the staff in one hand, the sword in the other, tears like chainmail glittering on her face. Her mouth is open, torn between what must be fury and shock, as he holds the glow spinning in his hands.

“I understand,” he hears himself say from miles away, “and I’m sorry.”

Is it partly out of spite? To prove her wrong? Maybe. Is it partly because he desperately wants Kilgharrah to be wrong, that they’re not the same, but yes, yes they are? Maybe.

Is it mostly because he helped turn Morgana into this, helped forge the sword the Morgana has become in Morgause’s hand?

Merlin holds his magic there, bared for her to see, as her mouth snarls and spits at him.

The words flash across his vision even as she doesn’t speak them. How could he, he betrayed her, how dare he side with them, what kind of a monster must he be?

They emerge in a wordless yell as she lunges forward, intent on burying her sword into his chest until—

The force of the blast knocks them back, throwing them like rag dolls against unyielding stone. Merlin winces, his body protesting first from the force of the expended magic and then the sharp crack from the wall. He manages to wedge himself upright with his elbow, scanning furiously for the damage done to the rest of the vault.

Fissures run along the length of the ceiling, dust showering as the soldiers upstairs rush back and forth. Somewhere up there are the knights, Leon, Arthur, the others—he should get up, he should see what else he has to do, but—

He looks down, searching for Morgana.

He finds a limp body, a sword flung out of a hand, and a staff that hums with enough dark power to make his stomach churn.

Panic courses through his veins as he scrambles across the floor, palms digging roughly into jagged stone, knees and elbows catching on loose rock. He winces, stumbles, flails, keeps going. He’s already hurt Morgana once, he won’t dare leave her again.

“Morgana,” he mumbles, straining through the clouds of dust, “Morgana—can—can you hear me?”

She’s out cold, lying limply on the floor. He reaches out, grabbing at her chainmail, trying to roll her onto her back, see what the damage is, did she hit something and get knocked unconscious? No blood greets him as her head turns, he can’t feel anything broken, so then what—why—

Something under his hand burns.

He yanks his hand away to see a bracelet, the bracelet Morgause gave her, the bracelet that stayed on as the dead rose around them, flare, splutter, and die.

Morgause…

Morgana gasps awake.

“Easy,” Merlin says before she can sit up too quickly and hurt herself, “easy, easy, Morgana, please, it’s—it’s alright, I’m not going to hurt you—“

“Merlin—Merlin—“ her voice grows shriller in a panic— “Merlin, please you have to listen to me—“

“I’m not going to hurt you, you have to believe me—“

“Merlin, please—“

“It’s alright, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I wanted to, just please listen to me, we have to stop this—“

“Merlin!”

The note of genuine hysteria gives him pause before he looks up and sees her face. Her face, not that horrible mask that’s been plastered to her since she returned, no, this is Morgana, shining back at him, tears still armor, as real as the hand fisted in his tunic to pull him closer, not push him away.

“…Morgana?”

“Merlin,” she says in a rush, “Merlin, we have to destroy the staff, Morgause is using it to channel my powers, she’s attacking the city, we need to—if we destroy the staff we may still win—“

“Morgana?” Merlin blinks, not wanting to believe it.

“Please, Merlin,” Morgana says, sitting up and taking his tunic in both hands now, “please, I know—I know I’ve been awful to you, I know this is my fault too, but you have to believe me, she’s more powerful than you know, we have to—“

“Are you hurt?” He looks her over, sees the bracelet still on her wrist. He reaches for it.

“What are you doing? We have to stop her!”

“The bracelet,” he says, “take your bracelet off.”

Morgana looks down. Her eyes widen when she sees the jewel in the middle burst open. “It’s—it’s broken…it’s broken…”

And the heart-wrenching look on her face as her mouth twists and she yanks it off is enough to convince Merlin.

“How do we destroy it?”

“I don’t know!” Morgana yanks him to his feet. ‘She said only the High Priestesses and their blood god had ever seen it.”

Merlin winces as the clattering above gets louder. He looks around to see more and more of the dead rising. “Well, we’ve got to try something!”

Morgana’s face twists further as she grips the staff. Her eyes begin to glow.

“Morgause is a High Priestess,” she growls, as the glow intensifies, “and I am her sister.”

She looks to Merlin.

“Help me.”

Merlin’s own magic starts to respond as the staff glows brighter, its own dark magic threatening to swallow the kingdom whole. Morgana’s magic reaches for him as they hold the staff together.

“On three,” she grits through a clenched jaw, “ready?”

Merlin nods, starting to pant with the effort of holding onto the staff. “One…”

“Two…”

“Three!”

The staff shatters.

They stand, frozen, made immobile by the magic surrounding them, as the dead start to fall back to the earth. Merlin’s eyes are fixed open, gazing at the remnants of the ancient tree, bound only by magic now dissipated. Across from him, Morgana’s gaze locks on his and they breathe.

“You have magic,” she whispers after an eternity of silence, “you…you’re like me.”

“I’m sorry,” Merlin says, his hands still outstretched, “I’m sorry.”

A wounded noise escapes them both as they slump to the ground, exhausted by the weight of the magic in the room. All around them, skeletons fall, the castle settles, and the battle rages on. The faintest sound of swords manages to reach them, down here, buried under stone, but for now, they are alone.

Alone in a swirl of magic and the broken promises of destiny.

Merlin drags himself across the floor to curl protectively around Morgana’s shaking form. He can’t let her get hurt now. She’s just broken one of the most powerful enchantments he’s ever seen, let alone felt, there’s no way he’s letting anyone near her. Morgana stirs as he sets himself over her, reaching upwards to grab a fist of his tunic. She tugs him down into a hug, her arms going around him so tightly he winces, before wrapping his own around her.

They’re sorry. They’re so, so sorry.

“I haven’t felt anything in ages,” comes the hoarse whisper, “it felt—It felt as though she banished me behind a sheet of glass, even in my own body.”

“You did it,” he mumbles back, squeezing her tighter, “you broke the enchantment. You did it. She can’t control you anymore.”

“I’m still so angry.” Her chest hitches as she gasps. “I’m so—I’m so angry and I can’t—I can’t tell which anger is mine and which anger is hers.”

The stone echoes in silent judgment as her confession rings in the air around them.

“You don’t have to figure it out right now.” He tightens his grip. “We can just—rest. For a moment.”

“Yes, that sounds nice.” Her voice starts to lilt. “Just…a little…rest…right here.”

“The others can—they’ll be fine.”

“Yes, yes, quite.”

Merlin’s eyes start to droop as his body finally gets to sag in relief. He winces.

“Merlin?” Morgana stirs under him. “Are you—did I hurt you?”

He shakes his head. “No, no, I just…I think I need to sleep, now…”

Kilgharrah’s warning about the cure returns. It will work, but not quickly.

And he just burnt up a lot of his energy.

He curses softly under his breath and Morgana sits up quickly, pulling him against the wall as they lean together.

“Merlin, Merlin? Merlin, talk to me,” she says as she scrambles to make sure his tunic and neck kerchief aren’t making it hard for him to breathe, “stay—stay with me.”

“I’m—I’m sorry…”

“It’s alright, Merlin, I hurt you too, I’m not angry at you, just—well, alright,” she yields when he manages to give her a look, “maybe a little, but not like that, just—stay awake, what’s wrong?”

He swallows roughly. “The Serket sting,” he manages through a dry throat, “it—I’m still not strong enough to fully…fully heal yet. I think—I think I pushed too hard.”

“Oh, Merlin,” she says, the perfect balance between chiding and fond, “you always push yourself too hard.”

“Easy for you to say,” he mumbles back, “you’re…you’re as close to an overachiever as they come.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

Their laughs are too tired to be convincing, cut off by an awful churn in Merlin’s stomach. The familiar pain of the poison swirls at the base of his spine.

“Shh, shh,” Morgana says frantically, pressing a glowing hand to his stomach, “I can—I had Morgause teach me some healing, I can try to hold it at bay while we find Gaius—“

“I’ll be fine,” he says, feeling the familiar wash of magic through his veins, “I’ll be fine, you…you save your strength. We’ve got some explaining to do when this is all over.”

Indeed, above them, the sounds of battle are slowly quieting.

Morgana laughs shakily. “And you best believe you’re going to be right there with me,” she warns, “you’re not getting out of it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says as his eyes start to drift closed, “but you…you can’t burn yourself out either.”

“So let’s both stay awake,” she says firmly, her arms still wrapped around him, “we’ll…we can just rest, right here, and then…then we’ll tell them.”

“Stay with me, then,” Merlin mumbles, reaching to wrap his arms more tightly around her, “don’t try and run off as soon as I pass out.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

There they stay, Morgana’s nose pressed into the crook of Merlin’s neck, Merlin’s hand buried at the base of Morgana’s braid, curled up, safe and exhausted next to the shattered staff.

There Arthur finds them, tearing frantically through the citadel, shouting for Merlin, for Morgana, for anyone who’s seen them.

They look up when he comes in, fear giving way to relief as a jibe rises to the tip of his tongue. Something cheap about the two of them sneaking off, or feigned disgust or outrage at finding them in such a compromising position. But then he catches sight of their tear-stained faces and the carnage around them and they can see him putting the pieces together.

“Merlin,” he finally says after a long moment, “Morgana, you’re both—you’re both safe.”

“Arthur?” Morgana props herself up a little. “Arthur, are you—“

“I’m alright,” he says, “the battle’s over.”

“Arthur.” Merlin tries to sit up too but neither he nor Morgana can make it. “Arthur—“

“Oh, alright,” Arthur sighs like he’s also not desperate to pick his way through the rubble toward them, “I’m coming.”

Still, he can’t disguise the look of relief on his face as he sits next to them, Morgana immediately pulling herself up to throw an arm around his neck.

“Alright, alright,” he mumbles like he’s not the most relieved prince in the world, “I’m here, I’m alright. Are you safe?”

“I’m safe now,” she says, “we destroyed the staff, we stopped the magic.”

Arthur looks around. “So you did. Well done.”

One of Morgana’s hands is still clutching Merlin’s tunic, dragging him closer to Arthur as she hugs him. Arthur raises an eyebrow as he notes this, looking to Merlin to make a joke only for it to die as he takes in what Merlin can only assume is his pale, sweaty, exhausted face.

“Are you alright?” He reaches for Merlin’s arm. “Are you hurt?”

Merlin thinks about shaking his head.

“Destroying the staff wasn’t easy,” he decides after a moment, which is true, “the magic…took a lot out of us. Both of us.” Which is also true.

“Merlin got hurt with a poison,” Morgana adds, shooting him a look that only he can tell is guilty, “he’s fighting it off still.”

“I’ve gotten the cure,” Merlin says before Arthur can indignantly rush them both upstairs, “it’s just…taking a while.”

Arthur’s gaze softens and he tugs Merlin a little closer.

“Is that why you’re still here,” he asks the both of them, “is it just…taking a while?”

They nod.

“Then let’s get you somewhere safe,” he says, starting to stand, “the battle is over. The citadel is safe.”

Morgana’s eyes flick to Merlin’s.

“Cenred and Morgause,” Merlin says, “are they gone?”

“Fled, it looks like,” Arthur says as they stand, “probably back to their own kingdoms.”

Morgana’s shoulders slump. “Thank goodness.”

“I’ll check to see what the easiest way back is.” Arthur walks toward the door. “Just wait here a moment.”

As soon as he disappears, Morgana looks down. Merlin follows her gaze to see the bracelet there, at their feet. He squeezes Morgana’s hand.

“Áce wele!”

The bracelet explodes into shards of metal as Morgana spits the spell. Arthur returns to see them still standing there, clutching each other.

“Is a side effect of the spell that you can’t let go,” he jokes, coming back to lead them out of the vault, “or is it just you two?”

When neither of them responds, he ushers them to Gaius without further comment.

Merlin nods when Gaius gives him a strange look, motioning to wait until Arthur is outside, standing guard.

“I’m sorry,” both Morgana and Merlin say at the same time, before Morgana clears her throat, “I’m sorry, Gaius, for everything. I didn’t know—Morgause—the bracelet—I know that doesn’t make up for everything but—“

“It’s quite alright, Morgana,” Gaius says, “I am not blameless either. And I am sorry.”

She accepts it with a quick jerk of her head. “I’m still angry. But until I know which of the anger is mine and which is hers, I’m…I can’t…”

She rolls her shoulders back.

“You have nothing to fear from me.”

Gaius bows his head humbly. “And you shall find no more loyal a servant.”

Morgana glances to Merlin and mouths except for you.

Merlin blushes.

Gaius shoos him out to tend to the last of Morgana’s wounds and to make a potion to clear the last of the magic from her, leaving Merlin stumbling into the corridor and running straight into Arthur’s arms.

“There you are,” he says softly, helping Merlin stand, “has Gaius told you you’re alright?”

“He said there’s nothing else for me to do but rest,” Merlin manages, before remembering that he needs to tend to Arthur, “but I can—I’ll help you first.”

Arthur just hums and starts walking them back to his chambers. They pass others, tending to wounds, hugging their loved ones, until they push open the doors to Arthur’s rooms and Merlin’s shoulders slump. His fingers fumble a few too many times for it to be considered efficient, but before long Arthur is free of his armor and Merlin all but collapses onto the table, having struggled to hang the last of it up.

“Will there be anything else, sire?”

Please, no. Let me rest.

“Yes, actually, Merlin, come here.”

He winces, pulls himself together and turns, ready to answer whatever Arthur’s going to have him do next, only to frown. In the time it took him to get Arthur’s armor cleared away, Arthur’s filled a small basin with water and set it on a table next to the bed. He opens his mouth to ask what Arthur wants when Arthur beckons him closer.

“Arthur, what—“

“Sit, Merlin,” Arthur says in the soft voice from the vault, taking him gently by the arm and guiding him to the bed, “there. I’m going to clean you off.”

“What? I’m fine!”

“You’re not,” Arthur corrects, still speaking in the voice that is making it very hard for Merlin to stay awake, “now hush and raise your arms.”

“Why?”

“Your tunic is filthy.” Arthur gives the material a tug. “And I need to see where you’re hurt.”

“‘M not hurt.”

“Morgana said you were poisoned. That means you’re hurt. Where did they get you?”

“…back.”

“On your back? Alright. Let’s go ahead and get this off you…”

Arthur’s hands are steady as he guides the tunic up and over Merlin’s head, followed by a sharp inhale as he sees the bruises from the chains.

“…Merlin, this looks like you were tortured.” Merlin can’t do anything but blink up at him. “You said the poison was on your back?”

Merlin nods.

“Here, I’m going to lean you forward, you just lean against me, alright?”

Arthur’s hand cups Merlin’s head, pulling him forward until he rests against Arthur’s chest. He loses himself in the slow card of fingers through his hair as Arthur leans over him to check where the poison must’ve been. When he feels a warm hand run over the still-tender wound, he winces.

Arthur stills. “Here?”

Merlin nods. “Two—two—wait, how long has it been since I got back?”

Arthur is quiet for a moment. Then he pulls away, hushing the embarrassing noise of protest that comes from Merlin’s throat.

“I’m not going far, just right here.” He takes a cloth and dips it in the water. “Let me clean your face.”

A warm hand slots itself under Merlin’s chin and lifts. A moment later, there’s a cool cloth on his face, stroking along his cheeks, over his forehead. Arthur asks him to close his eyes and the cloth sweeps gently, so gently over his closed eyes, getting away the salt and the dirt and the last of the tears.

“Shh,” Arthur soothes when Merlin lets out a pained noise, “it’s alright. I’m not hurt, you’ll be alright, I’m right here.”

“‘Rthur—“

The cloth leaves, dropped back onto the table as Arthur cradles his head in his hands. “You’re exhausted, Merlin, but I need you to open your eyes for me.”

For Arthur. He can do it for Arthur.

Arthur smiles encouragingly as he meets his gaze, kneeling by the bed so Merlin won’t strain his neck. He ruffles Merlin’s hair.

“There you are,” he murmurs, “now show me where it hurts.”

“Hurts?”

“You don’t have a fever, I checked, but you’re still in pain. I need you to show me.”

“I, um…”

“Hey,” Arthur calls, standing again to tuck Merlin into his arms, “you don’t have to be embarrassed, not with me, I’m here to look after you, it’s alright.”

“It—the magic—it—from the—“ Merlin swallows— “the magic from the staff and the poison, it—it hurt.”

Arthur makes a sympathetic noise, reaching for the cloth again. “Took a lot out of you, hmm?”

Merlin nods miserably, only to yelp in surprise when Arthur tilts him back, held with one arm around his back and the other pressing the cool cloth just below his chest.

“I’ve got you,” he says quietly when Merlin lets out another confused noise, pressing the cloth into the hollow of his ribcage, “just lay back and trust me, alright?”

Arthur props himself up on the bed, Merlin almost dipped in his arms as he holds the cloth still. The cool water almost feels like it’s drawing some of the pain out of him, making him sag into Arthur’s arms.

“Shh, that’s it, just a little longer.” Arthur turns the cloth so the cool side stays against Merlin. “Does that feel good?”

Merlin nods. His head lolls against Arthur’s shoulder, his eyes threatening to close. They blink open once Arthur starts talking again.

“You were dying,” he says quietly, looking at Merlin, “when you were gone those two days, weren’t you?”

Merlin nods.

“Oh, Merlin, I’m sorry.” His thumb rubs a soothing circle into his side. “No one will touch you again, I won’t let them.”

Something in Arthur’s voice makes him want to melt, stay here, safe in the crook of Arthur’s arms, but he can’t. If Arthur notices the way he rouses himself again, he doesn’t comment. Instead, he just turns the cloth over again.

“Something happened down there,” he says softly, “between you and Morgana, didn’t it?”

Merlin tenses.

“Not like that, Merlin,” Arthur chuckles, “but something happened when you broke the staff, didn’t it?”

He nods hesitantly. Arthur rolls his eyes.

“I do pay attention. I know what Morgana’s like. You two were practically inseparable when I first arrived.” The arm holding Merlin gives him a little squeeze. “You don’t have to tell me what it is, just…tell me, will you two be alright?”

He nods again. He’s sure of that.

“Good,” Arthur murmurs, setting the cloth aside. Merlin tries to sit up only for Arthur’s arm to hold him steady. “No, no, you stay. Here…there you go.”

Merlin blinks, a little confused when Arthur lays him tenderly out onto the bed. He props himself up on his elbows as Arthur bustles to the wardrobe, fetching a nightshirt for Merlin and helping him into it.

“What—“

“You’re exhausted, Merlin,” he says like that explains everything, “stay here tonight. Sleep.”

“I can’t do that, you—ah!“

“Shh, shh, hey, easy,” Arthur soothes, wrapping his arms around Merlin as he doubles over, a hand pressed hard to his chest.

Merlin bites back a whimper as another bolt of pain shoots through his chest. Damn Serket poison. Dimly, he realizes Arthur’s right. There’s no way he’s going to be able to make it back to Gaius and explain what’s going on.

Then he realizes as he’s been dealing with this, Arthur’s moved him.

He’s tucked up under the prince’s blankets, a pillow under his head, his boots and rough trousers removed. Next to him, Arthur reaches out to cradle him against his chest, rubbing soothing circles into his back. He lets out another mewl as Arthur gentles away the pain in his shoulders. There’s a warm hand under his chin, guiding it up. Arthur tilts his head and chucks Merlin lightly.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Oh.

Arthur’s worried.

“It hurts,” he manages, “it just—it hurts.”

Arthur makes a sympathetic noise, pulling him closer and tucking his head under his chin. He rolls them, Merlin on top, his knees coming up to bracket Merlin’s body as he strokes a warm hand up and down Merlin’s back.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, Merlin’s head safely in the crook of his neck, “it’s over now.”

“It’s over?”

“Yes, sweetheart, you’re safe. I’m right here.” Arthur cuddles him closer. “The battle is over. Camelot is safe. Morgana is safe. I’m safe.”

He cups the back of Merlin’s head and brings his mouth to his ear.

“You can rest now, sweetheart. Just go to sleep,” he whispers, “go on…”

Arthur is here. Arthur is solid and holds him firmly. Arthur is big and warm and soft and Merlin is so, so, tired.

Rest, young warlock, he thinks he hears as he drifts off, and well done.

#merthur #merlin #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #morgana pendragon #dragonbabbles #fic

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nyxicnymph · 3 years ago

Text

The Curse On Hyrule

A Zelink Angst fic based off of some angsty theories for BoTW2.

Enjoy. Or not.

Link gasped for breath, bending over. Dammit, he was so close!

Stupid curses. Stupid magic. Stupid Calamity.

Link reached for the Master Sword with his right hand, before flinching and switching hands. He stared down at both his arms, the right black and blacker, with hints of green, and blue, and that stupid magenta. The left, shaking with the weight of the Master Sword, used to bearing shields or supporting longer weapons, but not wielding a weapon by itself. Link snorted at the irony.

He stood up, ignoring how more than half of his body almost wouldn't obey him. He had to get to Zelda.

Zelda, who knows everything. Zelda, who was close by. Zelda, who had fallen into that abyss at the time. Zelda, who had already been traumatized by one bearer of the cu-

Link cut that train of thought off. He raised his sword, using the shaky light to illuminate his path. He knew she was close. He could feel her. He would shout, but he couldn't.

The closer he got, the quicker he moved. He could feel the curse growing, gaining control of his right side. And moving faster, as if it could feel that the possible end to it's goal was close.

Link almost passed the opening, and had to use the Master Sword to keep himself from moving forward. He entered the cavern cautiously, scanning for traps and monsters. Surprisingly, and suspiciously, there were neither.

Link rushed to the huddled mass in the dark corner, reaching out to her, to let her know he was there, that he needed her help. Then he stopped.

The last time he touched a dark mass in a dark cavern, well. He'd ended up cursed, losing the l- Princess of Hyrule, and accidentally reshaping the entirety of the continent.

He opted for another way. He sheathed the sword, then tapped the sheathed sword against the princess.

She jumped up, battle ready, her golden locks framing her determined face, and backlit by her unlocked power glowing from her right hand. The power faded as she lowered her hand, and her face melted in relief.

"Link!" She leapt forward as if to hug him, but Link sidestepped her. When the princess turned to face him, hurt evident on her face, he lifted his right hand to eye level, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

Zelda's own eyes widen as she took in the sight. "W-what happened to you, Link? Is this my fault? Is that why you-?" She choked up.

Link hurriedly shook his head. He pulled out his sheikah slate and pulled up an image of the corpse that started it all.

Zelda's face turned from concern to horror as it sunk in, and she fell to her knees. "No," she whispered softly. "No, it can't be. It doesn't... Does it?" She buried her face in her hands. "We have to fix this. There has to be a way."

Link wanted to help her up. His heart ached to see her that way, broken, on the floor, lost. But he can't touch her. He hadn't touched anyone since the curse, not even his enemies. He sure wasn't going to touch her.

He'd hate himself.

Zelda stood up, and brushed off her pants. "We'll figure this out. Have you gone to see Impa yet?"

Link shook his head. Zelda had and always would be his first priority, and she seemed to gather that.

"Well, then let's start with that. Impa has a good head on her shoulders, she should know what to do. And if she doesn't, she might have an idea." Zelda started walking, and Link, loyal as ever, followed behind.

"Have you tried using your power, Princess?" Impa suggested, grabbing Zelda's attention away from whatever she'd been glaring at.

"What? My power?"

"If my theory is correct, this curse...."

Link lost track of the conversation, trying to figure out what Zelda had been glaring at so intensely a moment ago. He glanced up the staircase to see Paya disappearing.

Oh.

The knight returned to the side of the princess, but didn't meet her eyes. He didn't want his mind to go down that road, for the sake of the worst-case scenario.

"Link, are you listening?" Impa's harsh voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Link nodded, and Impa scoffed. "You and the princess are going to the field overlooking the Zora domain, and she is going to try to remove your curse. Follow her instructions." Impa turned to Zelda. "Remember. Do not touch him, unless you are absolutely sure it has been removed."

Zelda nodded resolutely. "Understood."

At the field, Zelda and Link stood facing each other, all alone in a sea of green. Even the deer were gone. Link was surprised that the field remained, instead of being hoisted into the sky like many other parts of Hyrule had been.

Zelda cleared her throat. "Link, I have to see how far the curse has progressed." Link looked at her blankly, and Zelda averted her eyes. "You need to remove your shirt."

Link nodded, and did as the princess commanded, but slowly. He had hoped it wouldn't come to this. He hadn't wanted her to see how much of him had been taken over.

He hadn't wanted her to see him turning into a monster before her eyes.

"Link, I-" she stammered as she looked at his torso, two thirds blackened, and the remaining third crossed over with angular patterns. "I don't know what to say. How did it get this bad?"

Link signed that he thought it was hastened by activity against it, but he wasn't sure.

Zelda sighed, tears evident. "I pray this works. Lanayru help us." She raised her right hand, and it glowed.

Link closed his eyes, and opened his arms, as if to embrace the power that washed over him in the next second. He felt cold, then warmth, then a feeling like his nerves were tiny lightning bolts. Then it all faded.

"No!"

Link's eyes snapped open to see Zelda kneeling on the ground, her hands covering her mouth, and tears streaming down her face. He looked down and saw his torso had been completely blackened, and the hints of green, blue, and magenta were stronger than before.

"This was supposed to work!" The princess cried. "It was supposed to cure you! To cleanse you! What good-" She choked on a sob. "What good is this power if it can't even save my l- loyal knight?!"

Link knelt beside her, trying to comfort her with his presence, since he couldn't hold her. He signed:

I'm still here, princess. We will figure this out.

Zelda cried a while more, before wiping her tears away. "Let's go to the temple at the plateau. Maybe we will get a hearing from the goddess, and she will help us."

Link nodded. This was as close to a back-up plan as they had.

The sun shone on the two small forms kneeling in front of the large goddess statue. The figure on the right begging frantically, her tears soaking the stone beneath, and the figure on the left, silently crying as well, but more focused on his fingers than anything else.

How long until the left hand matched the right? Link knew it wasn't that long. He could feel the curse slipping through the veins and muscles of his left bicep, curling around his elbow.

He had to get Zelda away from him before he was completely taken over.

He sat up, which drew Zelda's attention. They turned to face each other, and Zelda looked at him questioningly. Link hesitatingly lifted his hands up, and signed:

I need you to run. Away from me. I'm afraid it's too late.

His hands movements were jerky, some of them uncoordinated. He almost couldn't control his own limbs, and Zelda noticed.

"No, Link! Even if you're consumed, I won't leave you! It's my fault we were down there! And so it's my fault you were cursed!" Her tears dropped, splattering the floor between them.

Link's own tears fell as he signed, And I can't have you being hurt because of me!

"But it's my fault!"

You're the only one who can stop me, Princess! You're the next most worthy of the Master Sword! Link signed in frustration, trying to get her to see his point.

"The... The Master Sword? Why?"

Because the Master Sword will be the only thing capable of killing me.

Zelda stood up and shook her head. "No! I refuse! I- There has to be another way! I will not kill you!"

You have to. Or Hyrule is doomed.

Zelda spun away. "I refuse to listen anymore! You will be fine! You-" She cut herself off when she heard a thud.

She gasped when she saw Link on the floor. "Link!" She halted her dash forward when a dark shadow came over the temple. She looked up and saw the clouds were purple.

She made to run to Link anyway, until he stopped her with a single sign.

No.

She saw the curse creeping up his neck, and she ran up to him regardless. "I refuse to let it end like this!" She told him as she grabbed him under the arms and tried to pull him away.

Zelda, please, for my sake, run!

"No!"

Zelda, please!

"I won't leave you!" She screamed, tears and sweat mingling on her face as she pulled him out of the temple.

You must! Link signed as the curse covered his chin.

"I'm not leaving you, so stop trying to make me!"

Zelda, you have to leave!

"Why are you so insistent I leave?!" Zelda cried as his body slid from her fingertips and hit the ground once more.

With incredibly, increasingly uncooperative fingers Link signed:

Because I love you.

The eyes of the knight met the eyes of the princess, and something passed between them. Link saw the fire in her gaze and knew he had said the wrong thing, but had no idea what. Zelda found confirmation of what she had been suspecting for months.

As the curse consumed Link, and the Master Sword fell to the ground, Zelda stepped forward. She picked up the sword, and felt it hum deep in her bones. She knew what she had to do.

Or rather, what was good for all of Hyrule.

"I've sacrificed myself for Hyrule once already!" She screamed at the sky. "Why should I do it again?!"

She threw aside the sword, and grabbed Link. "If you won't stay with me, than I'm going with you! I never want to be separated from you again! I owe you my life a hundred times over! I refuse to let it end like this!"

She pressed her lips to his, and refused to separate, even as she felt the curse flowing into her own body, moving faster than it had before.

As Princess Zelda died, she prayed one last time for a hero to save Hyrule. One worthy to wield the Master Sword, and stronger than she.

And if Hyrule wasn't saved?

Well, that's what the new calamities were hoping for, after all.

And thus fell the Hope, Princess, and Kingdom of Hyrule.

#breath of the wild #breath of the wild 2 #botw 2 theory #botw2 fic #botw2 angst #angst #zelink #zelink angst #enjoy me hearties #bad ending #ganon's corpse

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peterspideyy · 4 years ago

Text

chapter 1 | safe

series masterlist

————

newt sat up, inhaling as much air as he could manage, as his eyes shot open. he felt a pain soar through his body, causing him to groan at the feeling. his ears rang with each heavy beat of his heart, as he allowed himself to look around and gather his bearings.

he was in a hut of some sort. it was old and basic. an oak table, with two chairs tucked underneath it. dusty windows, causing newt to hardly see anything out of it. a vase on the window sill, with dead flowers in it. there’s a cupboard above a sink in the corner, with the door broken off the hinges, causing newt just to see half of a blue box, with the letters ‘cd’ on it. wooden walls decaying surrounded him, with parts of it broken, allowing newt just the chance to see through the tiny cracks.

he saw the scorch. he could recognise that dreadful sand from a mile away. he still remembers that walk to the right arm, like the back of his hand. and how thomas said-

newt gasped.

thomas. minho. gally. frypan.

where was his friends?

and then, all the memories of that night came back.

he was dead. a knife was plunged in his chest. he still remembers the excruciating pain he felt, yet he still smiled at his tommy, before all the life was drained out of him. they must of left him to burn as the last city crumbled down. he doesn’t feel angry at them, for leaving him. he would of done the same. it would of been extra baggage.

but, if he was dead, then why is he alive? he can see the room he is in. he can hear the distant winds of the scorch. he can feel the hard floor beneath him. he wouldn’t of been able to do that, if he was bloody dead.

newt looked down, brining his hands up into his vision. as well as noticing how clean they were, the veins were gone. he scrambled his t-shirt sleeve up, to see his infected scar- gone. it was like it never existed in the first place.

“what the...” newt thought to himself, looking at his other arm, remembering the dark veins covering it, but instead saw his own skin starring back at him.

what happened to him?

suddenly, the front door slammed open, causing the british boy to jump to his feet, but he instantly regretted that thanks to the thumping pain in his brain, as all the blood rushed to his head. but, he stopped wincing, as a figure walked into the hut.

newt immediately noticed the rifle, leaning on there left shoulder. the person stood still, just starring at the quivering boy, before walking into the light. the woman was a bit taller than newt but looked around the same age as him, with dark brown hair, tied messily into a pony tail. some strands still fell in front of her face though, hiding her hazel eyes and blank expression. but, she suddenly chuckled slightly, walking to the table, throwing the gun on top of it, causing a loud bang that made newt flinch.

“thought you would never wake up.” she spoke, still not turning to face newt, as she placed a bullet onto the side. her voice was petite, that surprised newt a lot.

“well,” newt coughed, clearing his through, “well, i-i have now.”

she turned to face him, “no shit.”

newt gulped.

“got a name?” she inquired.

“newt.”

she raised her eyebrows, “newt?”

he nodded.

after a couple minutes of silence passed, and as newt watched the woman put the rifle away, he cleared his through again.

“what‘s...your name?”

“doesn’t matter,” she walked towards him, “what matters is that you get out of my house.”

“what?”

“you heard me.” she sighed, walking away to open the door, gesturing for him to walk through it.

newt couldn’t leave now. he needed answers.

“no, i’m not going.”

“what?!” she shouted, eyes wide.

“the last thing i remember, is me dying. and now i’m alive? it’s not everyday that you die and come bloody back to life?!”

the woman froze, taking in his words.

“so, you either tell me why i’m alive or i’m not leaving.”

————

thomas shot up, breathing out heavily, sweat dripping off his forehead as his eyes shot open. tears fell down his cheek, at the nightmare he just visualised. well, it wasn’t a nightmare. he actually watched his best friend die in his arms.

he chocked back a sob, as it hit in, nearly knocking him unconscious.

newt’s dead. and it’s all his fault.

if only he fought harder for newt to stay with gally and wait for the serum, instead of listening to his ‘you can’t do it on your own.’ if only he didn’t get distracted for wanting to kill ava paige, he could of instead focused of saving newt and minho. if only-

“hey, thomas.��

he looked up to see minho, stood in the doorway of the tent. he smiled, but it never met his eyes. thomas returned to gesture back slightly, as they both silently mourned there friend. guilt still eats away at thomas. he caused minho to loose the only person he trusts and cares about, since the maze.

“hey, minho. what’s up?” thomas asked, standing up out of his bed, rubbing his eyes.

minho stood silently, watching his actions, noticing the dark bags underneath his eyes, “just letting you know that frypan has cooked breakfast.”

“oh, erm...i’ll be right out.” thomas mumbled.

“okay.” minho nodded, but neither of them moved.

“are you okay?”

minho’s question caused thomas’ heart to pang in pain, as his breaths got caught up in his throat. tears welled up in his eyes at the most simple question in the world. how could he be okay, after loosing the one thing that meant so much to him?

“yeah, i’m fine.” he lied, while minho raised his eyebrows, not fully convinced.

“well, hurry up...bet you’re starving.”

thomas laughed slightly, as minho chuckled too, before walking away to the other gladers. and as soon as minho walked away, thomas buried his head into his hands, as a heavy cry racketed out of his body, causing him to completely break down into sobs.

————

“tell me everything.” newt demanded, as the woman gave him a glass of water, as they both sat across from each other, on the wonky oak table.

she sighed, sipping her drink, before starting.

“the whole city was burning down, because-“

“of the people outside the walls.”

she stopped, “yeah, don’t interrupt me though.”

“sorry.”

“anyway, me and a couple of my friends were running to safety, and then...i saw you, on the floor. dead.”

“wait! stop!” she screamed to her friends, over the loud sounds of gunshots and explosions.

“that’s a-a person.” she shouted, running over to the figure on the ground.

she didn’t bother to see if her friends followed her or not, to bothered at the man with a knife plunged in his chest. she didn’t know him. she’s never seen him in his life. but, a sudden feeling of sorrow overcome her body, causing her to kneel down beside him.

“he’s not worth it.” her friend breathed out, standing just behind her.

“everyone is worth it.”

she heard a sigh, “he’s a crank. he’s far to gone. and we won’t be much better if we stay here, mourning over someone we barely know!”

she shook her head, placing her fingers on his cold neck to try and find a pulse. but failed.

“you’re not a doctor anymore. you can’t save everyone. so let’s go!” her friend shouted, turning to run away.

but, she didn’t follow, still starring at the lifeless eyes of the young boy.

“he probably deserved the world.” she thought, still hoping to feel a pulse. but, it never happened.

breathing out heavily, she was going to stand up, and follow her friends, but froze as she felt a small vibration in her finger. she starred at the boy, who wasn’t moving as the vibrations increased. it was a heartbeat.

“oh my god!” she whispered.

he was alive. but, only just.

and then the boy’s body stirred, as a small groan left his cracked lips. she kneeled beside him, eyes wide at the sight of a person literally coming back from the dead. she’s never seen this happen. never the less with a crank.

“hello? can you hear me?” she asked, hoping the boy would reply. praying he would. even just a little ‘yes.’

and he did. but, he replied with something she would never expect.

with a small hoarse voice he whispered, ‘tommy.’

and passed out again.

————

thomas eventually left his tent, after double checking all signs of him crying were not visible, he followed the smells of frypans cooking. he smiled at people he passed, not knowing half of them, but still felt responsible to do so. he was responsible for everyone’s freedom.

then how come he couldn’t save newt?

walking to the kitchen, he smiled as frypan already handed him a plate of food, that made his mouth water.

he’s not surprised at how hungry he is. he hasn’t eaten in days.

“thanks fry.” he mumbled, while the cook nodded at him sadly.

thomas walked away from the kitchen, walking past his group of friends by the bonfire, to sit on the ground infront of the stone. sitting down, he starred up at the stone glancing at names carved into it. he looked at names he didn’t know, but still felt remorse for them. but, then he saw names he did know.

and it hurt.

chuck. little chuck didn’t deserve to go. they finally escaped the maze. but, he’s not here anymore. he made a promise to chuck. and he broke it.

alby. god. out of everyone from the maze, he was one of the people who truely deserved to be free. he was the first one up after all. and thomas failed him.

winston. he tried to take care of his friends like he promised him in the scorch. he still remembers the sound of the gunshot engulfing him as they walked away from their dying friend.

teresa. he knows what she was trying to do. she was trying to help. she thought she was helping. he never loved teresa. sure they kissed before she fell to her death, but he never loved her.

and then his eyes landed on newt’s.

thomas couldn’t bare to look at his name anymore, as tears blocked his vision.

————

newt looked through one of the the gaps in the wall, after the woman stopped talking a couple of minutes ago. to say he was confused was an understatement. he coughed, glancing at her who was leaning back in her chair, already starring at him.

“how did you save me then? theres no cure.”

“i know,” the girl nodded, “b-but, somehow the knife missed your heart. and as i removed it when you were unconscious, there was someone else’s blood on it? i think that blood saved you. and i’m a doctor, i have erm...resources that can help you.”

“who’s blood was it?”

“i’m not sure.” she looked away, almost seeming nervous suddenly, “but, it seems like whoever’s blood that was, was already on the knife before it-“

“was stabbed into me?” newt finished.

the woman nodded, “yeah.”

and then it hit newt. just out the blue. he remembered.

“i know who’s blood it is.”

she turned to face him, “who?”

“it’s thomas’ blood.” he cringed.

newt remembers when he pierced his skin, just slightly. but, even though he had no control over his actions, he still remembers the amount of guilt he felt as he heard thomas’ pained screams fall from his lips.

he wish thomas never saw him like that. so animalistic and aggressive.

“oh, the person you say in your sleep. what is he your boyfriend or something?”

newt chocked on his water, “what?!”

“you heard me,” she winked, laughing at the stuttering mess infront of her, “well, it seems like your boyfriend is the cure. do you know where he is?”

newt tried not to blush at the word ‘boyfriend’ before replying.

“unless he’s dead, then he’ll be at the safe haven.”

dead? if tommy is dead then...

no, he can’t be dead. h-he shouldn’t think of the worse.

he has to be alive.

“the safe haven?”

“yeah, it’s where everyone goes when they want to be free of wckd and cranks and-“

“i know what it is,” she cut off, standing up with a wide smile of her face, “i’ve been trying to find that for years. i didn’t think it was real!”

“i haven’t been but...i-i assume it’s real. why are you laughing so much?” newt questioned, gesturing the woman laughing her head off that was once harsh to him.

“because newt, we’re going.”

“g-going where?”

“the safe haven you div!” she shouted, clapping her hands together.

“i don’t even know where it is! all i know is that it’s on a beach! do you realise how many beaches there are in the world?! and beside i hardly know anything about you-“

“my name’s kira. and that’s all you need to know about me.” she mumbled, causing newt to gulp.

“o-okay kira, well i have no bloody idea on how to get to it anyway!”

“that’s why we’ll go together.”

newt sighed. he did want to find the safe haven, and be reunited with his friends. he misses them all so much. and it pains him to think that they all believe he’s dead, when he isn’t.

but, he has no idea where it is. for all he knows, the safe haven could of moved away from a beach. like into the mountains. or into a city. newt and kira could just be going on a wild goose chase.

“don’t you want to see all the people you know? like your boyfriend.” she teased, causing newt to roll his eyes.

“he’s not my boyfriend. he’s just a close friend.” he snapped.

kira sat down again, her smile falling into an expression of seriousness.

“newt, you have a second chance of living. if i never found you, you would be dead right now. so, take this opportunity and come with me to find the safe haven. and live the life you are supposed to have. the life what your friends would want you to have.”

newt sat still, taking in her words. she was true. harsh, but true. he does have a second chance of living. and he shouldn’t waste it on thinking of the worse possible scenarios.

“okay.”

“wait really?!”

“yes,” he looked up, smiling, as he was suddenly overcome with a feeling of urgency.

“let’s go and find the safe haven, kira.”

————

a/n- thank you for reading chapter 1! it’s quite short, but hopefully as the story goes on the chapters will be longer :)

————

taglist-

@parkersbliss @liberty-barnes @harry-hollands @lookatallthosefandoms @venjicuddles @a-sarcastic-lil-shit @insonianna

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chaseatinydream · 4 years ago

Text

pirate king (78) || atz

You haven’t left the infirmary for a whole day.

“Ahhhh!” You shriek into your pillow for the fiftieth-something time that day, burying your face in the soft down, fingers winding into the sheets. “Ahhh!”

There’s an amused chuckle from somewhere in the room, and soft footsteps draw closer. The mattress of your bed sinks lightly from the added weight before a hand comes to rest on your head, gentle and comforting.

“What’s going on with you?” San’s light voice is full of amusement, and you peek out from under the covers to see your master sitting cross legged on your bed, teasing smile on his face. “You’ve been holed up in here for a whole day now. Don’t you think that you should go explore the town a bit before the Treasure leaves Tortuga? Did something go wrong when you tried to give Hongjoong the jacket?”

Instantly, your mouth twists into a pout and you bury your face into the pillow once more with a tiny, muffled scream. Your cheeks burn, and the image of Hongjoong looking at you with such tenderness in his eyes resurfaces at your master’s mention only serves to addle your mind further.

“Please shut up for a second, master.” You groan into the pillow, refusing to look up. San snickers, but then in the next second he gasps. “Wait, didn’t you mean to give him that handmade jacket? Did he reject it? I’ll beat up the ungrateful little bastard, why he-”

“No, no, master!” You catch his arm before he can march out of the infirmary. “He didn’t reject it, I did give it to him and he accepted it. It’s just that...” you hesitate for a moment, the words rolling about in your mouth. “It’s just that, well, captain... he...”

San stares back at you, unblinking. “He...?”

You bury your face in your hands. For some reason, the tips of your ears feel like they’re on fire. You try to speak, and the words come out a mangled mess - almost as bad as Mingi’s attempts at cooking.

“Words.” San encourages. “You know, with consonants and vowels. Using the mouth might be helpful.”

You make an unintelligible noise and launch your pillow in his direction. There’s a satisfying “oompf”, but the downside is that you’ve lost your only shield between the two of you.

San grins. “So?”

“Well,” you pause, trying to find words more eloquent within your choices and resulting with none. “He... confessed.”

Good job, Chin Hae! Your inner self cheers, full of pride. That’s was a full sentence!

Your master stills for a moment, pulling the pillow off his head. The previously amused expression he was wearing on his face morphs into one of concern as he looks at you. “Oh. Oh.”

You’re stunned for a moment, staring at your master. “I would have expected you to be a little more surprised. Do you mean you actually knew about this?”

San’s expression softens, eyes pained, before his fingers come up to poke you in the nose. “You’d be surprised how dense you can be sometimes, Chin Hae. That’s not good for you, you know.”

Your lips purse as you pick at the ends of the threads of your blanket. “What am I supposed to do, master? Wooyoung too, both of them... I rejected them both, but still... it hurts...”

There’s a soft exhale that leaves your master, that lingers in the air, still in the silence before he speaks. “Only you can decide that for yourself, Chin Hae.” When you look up at him, he puts his hand on your head with a painfully gentle smile. “I promised to do my best to help you find a cure, but I won’t give either of us false hope - there is every possibility you might die. Since this concerns you and the two of them, you have to make the choice yourself.”

You have to make the choice yourself.

You sigh and rub at your temples, trying to resolve the onset of a headache you can already feel coming. All this thinking hurts your head. “You know, I wish you weren’t right all the time, master.”

“We all want the impossible sometimes.” San shrugs easily, his usual smirk tinged with a hint of cheekiness. You turn a glare at him, but there’s no heat to it at all - how could you? Instead, San yanks you out of the bed and you follow, a tad unwillingly.

“What are you doing?”

“Let’s go get some herbs from town,” San suggests, pulling you along with him. “A good walk about time will clear your mind, and the Treasure will be leaving Tortuga soon.”

You sigh, reluctant, but follow.

What could possibly go wrong?

>>>

The trip to town starts off fine enough.

Wooyoung whines about not being to go with the two of you - you remind him about his ban from the town due to his little hostage attempt (‘it was only one teeny tiny hostage attempt,” he protests) and the two of you set off hand in hand, chattering brightly about what you’ll find in the marketplace.

And well, apparently the Fates had been listening, because they were determined to proved you wrong.

It’s barely ten minutes into the market that you’re completely lost.

You have no idea how you ended up in this situation - quite alone, separated from San in the middle of a bustling crowd in the marketplace. The sea of people surge around you like the push and pull of an unyielding tide, and the last thing you remember is San’s hand separating from yours after a man bumped into the two of you.

You’re not too worried, you’ve come here quite a few times, enough to be rather familiar with the place. As long as you find your way to the central town square, you’ll definitely be able to navigate your way through the back alleys back to the harbour with the town square as a reference point.

That is, until you hear something.

“The Treasure is leaving the harbour soon. We should move as soon as possible.” A low mutter reaches your ears as you step into a dark alley, and the second you hear those words, you flatten yourself against the wall in shock. That definitely doesn’t sound like any of crew, you know most of their voices well enough.

“But the Pirate King is the captain of that ship.” A nervous tremble in the voice of the man’s conversation partner. He sounds reluctant, and for a moment pride wells up in your chest at the reputation your captain holds. “We can’t just attack them! We’ll die!”

What?

They’re going to do what now?

“Listen, you coward,” the man practically growls, his voice a low rumble. You shiver lightly at that, and peek around the corner. To your horror, you see a hulking, burly man with rippling muscles, tan skin decorated with swirling black lines that spiral down his chest and across his forearms. He could easily crush you under his foot. “The big bosses in the inn right now are discussing plans, big ones. The second the Treasure leaves the harbour of Tortuga, ten different ships are going to hit it all at once with everything they’ve got. There’s no way they’ll escape.”

You clap a hand over your mouth and crouch behind the brick wall again. Heart racing in your chest and cold sweat sliding down your temples, you think carefully over what you’ve heard. All thoughts of escaping immediately flee your mind. Ten ships intending to attack the Treasure?

“Pirates don’t band together, the loot split amongst them won’t be big enough.” The other man mutters, although he seems slightly more reassured. “You’re intending on fighting one of the most terrifying ships to ever sail the waters of the Caribbean!”

“Are you an idiot, or do you just not know how much the Royal Navy is offering for this capture?” The man’s voice is near maniacal with the delirium of his excitement. “They’re offering enough wealth worth an entire Spanish treasure galleon as well as pardons signed by the Queen herself. We’ll be free men, all of us. All we need to do is take down one ship.”

“What? Sounds like a load of rotten shellfish to me.” The other man snorts derisively, and your knees tremble at their words. Such a reward would surely make the Treasure the target of most ships, if not all, in the waters. “What exactly does the Royal Navy want with the Treasure? They’ve been causing less trouble than they used to ages ago.”

You know what they want.

“Some woman with a wooden hand on board, called Chin Hae or something along those lines. There are drawings of her image circulating, so we know what she looks like.” The man says roughly, and your legs nearly give out beneath you. You’ve got to run, run, but your legs won’t move. Sucking in deep breaths, you urge strength into your legs as you clamber onto your knees.

Run, run, run!

“Hmm, I heard something over there.” You immediately clamp your mouth shut, nails digging so hard into your palm you feel blood slide down your skin. Don’t make a sound, you chant in your mind, don’t even think about breathing. “Huh. Musta’ just been a bird or a rat. These alleyways are filthy.”

“Hmph. Go check anyway, it might be a street urchin or something. If anyone finds out that we were talkin’ about the plans, we’re good as dead in a ditch.” The gruffer man mutters, and you hear grumbling and footsteps drawing closer to where you’re crouched.

Your heart practically stops beating in your chest. Your hand slides into your healer’s satchel, trembling. What do you do?

“See? Absolutely nothin’, it must have been just a-”

The man rounds the corner, and in that single, desperate second, you strike.

Pulling the largest round bottomed flash that you’d just bought from the apothecary with San earlier, you smash it over the man’s head with everything you’ve got.

The man lets out a tiny scream and shattered glass flies everywhere, your eyes lock. He stumbles back, bleeding from the forehead where you’d struck him, and grabs for you again.

“That’s the girl! The woman with the wooden hand! Get her, you fool!”

At the sound of his partner’s bellow, you gasp as you see him draw his sword. The size of it along could cleave you in half across the middle. When you whirl around to flee, the scrawnier man grabs you by the back of your tunic, terrifyingly strong. “I’m not letting you go!” He swears, and you react instantly, just as Jongho had taught you all those months ago.

You shove the remains of the broken glass bottle straight into one of his eyes with all your might, and the man screams in agony, curling up on the filthy ground as crimson blood gushes down his face. The same hot, sticky blood runs over your hand and between your fingers.

You don’t have time to worry about him. You run.

“Stop right there!” You hear him pounding on a wooden door behind you as you stumble, cursing your legs. Move! “Oi, we found the girl! Get your asses out here and get her!”

You dash down the alleyways. People, people, get to where there are lots of people! Your lungs burn, and you hear angry shouting of ‘where did she go’ at your back, the voices drawing closer every second. You’re not as used to the maze of alleyways as these people are, what do you do? What if you take a wrong turn and just end up running deeper into it?

You pause for a moment at a cross section, glancing about desperately as you heave for breath. Left, or right or-

Your eyes lock on something, up!

“Sorry, coming through,” you apologise as you shove past a townsmen as you race up the stairs to the rooftops. The man shrieks at your invasion of his house, but you barely hear him. Yes! Up here, you can see the way to the harbour without the walls of the alleys in the way!

Luckily for you, the houses here are clustered and cramped together, and you leap across the roofs with relative ease - nothing compared to toeing the wildly swinging masts in the middle of a storm.

The harbour!

Your knees nearly buckle as you land hard, but you don’t have the luxury to stop and think about the pain. Picking yourself up, you run with all your might, leaping across a gap between two alleys and hear some more shouting. “She’s up there! Get onto the roofs before she gets out of the alleys!”

There’s a whistle of something sharp slicing through the air, and instantly you throw up your hands to protect your face and your neck (‘better your hands that your life,’ Jongho had told you once grimly).

There’s a heavy thunk and you stumble back at the sheer force of the blade, eyes screwed shut as you wait for the agonizing pain to come. But it doesn’t.

To your surprise, when you pull your hands away from your face, you look down to see a blade embedded in your prosthetic hand, the wood nearly split in half. You make a little amused noise, unable to keep the laugh in, half crazed with adrenaline. That hand has really bad luck when it comes to knives, wooden or not, you think.

There’s the rattle of loose stones behind you, and you whirl around to see one of your pursuers already clambering onto the roof and your heart drops into your belly. Yanking the knife from your wooden hand, you send it sailing at the man and it misses his head. Instead, it strikes his hand and the man screams in pain to clutch at it, before realising he’s still climbing and falls to the cobbles below, taking his friends down with him.

“Don’t let her get away! She’s the key to us getting rich! She’s our treasure!” One of the men from below roar, and you balk at the words, disgust pooling in the pit of your stomach. Courage surges up in you out of nowhere. “The only one who gets to call me that is Captain, you bastards!”

You don’t have the patience to see if they’ve heard. You dive for the exit out of the alleyways and scramble along the shops at the docks, ducking and weaving around startled shopkeepers as you yank your hood over your head.

Can’t let them recognise you, you think frantically as you continue sprinting down the docks, chest heaving. Behind, you hear your pursuers roughly shoving the townspeople aside in their rush to get to you before you reach the Treasure. “Oi, stop right there! Stop running!”

“Do they seriously think I’ll listen to that?” You mutter under your breath, but for all your bravado, the voices are getting closer, and you’re almost dizzy with exhaustion. You look about frantically for somewhere to hide, but before you can, a hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you into a narrow alleyway behind a makeshift tent selling an assortment of mirrors, shrouded in darkness.

Thrashing, you struggle to get out of the man’s grip but it’s as firm as iron, and strangely gentle. Gentle as it may be though, you’re ready to bite your way out if need be until a mild, lilting voice touches your ears. “Hey, hey, you’re alright now. Those men are gone.”

You still, trembling. The man’s voice is soothing, but there’s something that grips your chest about it; it sounds familiar, but not quite. Unable to resist the urge, you look up to look at your saviour’s face.

A slender, handsome face, sharp nose and delicate features. But your eyes lock onto his eyes, mismatched ones, one a familiar, kind green and the other a dark, murky colour, the shade of dirty, brackish water.

Your heart drops into your chest, and instantly, every survival instinct in you screams at you to run, so loudly that your head nearly splits.

He looks like... he looks like...

He looks like your captain.

Recognition flickers across his face, and the kindness in his eyes disappear almost in the a blink. Instead, that kindness is replaced by something that looks like depraved hunger, and you feel like a prey being stared down by a predator.

Your survival instinct screams at you.

Run!

“I found you.” The man whispers, one hand coming up to touch your cheek and you recoil, heart beating unnaturally loudly in your chest. Your head feels like its about to split in half, strange, disembodied voices ringing in your skull, each louder than the other. “My treasure.”

“S-stay away from me.” You warn, one hand gripping your head as if you could physically prevent your mind from shattering. “Don’t move another inch!”

The man doesn’t seem able to hear you, taking a step closer. Power spills from him, so dark and thick it makes you gag, flinching backwards. Your back hits the wall. “I finally found you. With your power, I finally can-”

“I don’t have any power!” You shriek, trying to stay on your feet but the pain that wrecks your head threatens to bring you to your knees. There’s something growing there, too large for you to push back, as if you’re trying to hold back a storm wave with your bare hands. “I’m a normal human, just like everyone else! I just want to live a normal life!”

You are still part of the Treasure, part of my crew, one of my family. Even if you are a woman, a clay one, instead of a man of flesh, neither of those things change for me.

“Normal? No, you’re not.” The man takes another step closer, and the pain resounds throughout your entire body, so badly till your fingers are trembling. “Human? Something like you could never be. No matter how much you try, you can’t escape what you are.”

He regards you with a smile that seems almost surgical, and your heart plummets.

“You’re not even really alive.”

There’s the sound in the back of your head that sounds like tearing cloth, and your mind rents in half.

The last thing you see is a pair of vividly blue eyes in the gloom, rippling in almost liquid surface of a mirror, startlingly lifelike.

It takes a second for you to realise those are looking right back at you.

Thunder and lightning surges, wild tempests riding like wild horses bringing about the end of the word, and everything dissolves into chaos.The man from earlier seems to have vanished, of course he would, who would remain in this storm? The person in the mirror looks at you in the eye as the hurricane rages all about you. You stare, unable to move.

Who are you?

The howling of the wind and the icy blades of freezing rain don’t affect you in the least, but your limbs are leaden. The reflection in the mirror opens its mouth to speak.

They will come bearing a gift. Kill the man, and return. There is no running from me. Free us both, ****.

The one-eyed green boy smiles at you, and holds out his pinky finger.

I am you.

The storm screams overhead. Kill him, kill him, kill him, it chants.

You are me.

You crumple to your knees, and everything goes black.

Kill him.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez pirate king #w; ot8 #w; pirate king #w; fanfiction

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bitchloveskcbaseball · 3 years ago

Text

You Left My Heart on the Floor

Pairing: Bryce x MC

Warnings: A bit of language. Character Death. I don’t think I put anything that outright mentions the attack, but this is taking place when M/C is quarantined in the room during the aftermath.

A/N #1: Sooooo... This is a follow up to Bar Trouble that is set during the book 2 attack with an unfortunate alternate ending. And it is not a happy one. Also this isn’t heavily edited, so please excuse any mistakes.

A/N #2: Name for this comes from Carly Pearce's Every Little Thing

A/N #3: I didn’t want to forcibly subject anyone to this, so I’m not tagging anyone on this.

Bryce barely took the time required to scrub out of surgery before rushing off through the corridors. He never even really saw any of the staff he passed or heard any of the comments that were floating about as he ran past. The only thing he could focus on was getting to Casey before it was too late. He had to get there before it was too late.

He didn’t even remember flying over the flights of stairs that took him to the cordoned-off floor. Barely registered brushing past all of the various personnel that were trying to keep him from entering. His first cognizant thought after handing Kyra’s surgery over to Tanaka didn’t come until he was standing in front of the window, staring into a room that looked like it had come straight out of some psycho-horror film. The entire room was covered in plastic, an extra cot was set up but had yet to be touched, all while countless figures were milling about just outside of a decontamination chamber in hazmat suits. But, despite all the commotion, the only thing that Bryce saw was her. Her face was paler than he’d ever seen before, a marked contrast to the deep, dark circles under her eyes. Her lips were almost ashen and even from across the room, he could see the way her body was trembling. Her normally bright, green eyes were so dull they were almost completely devoid of color. Yet through it all, he could tell, without even hearing her words, that she was doing everything she could to make sure that Rafael was comfortable. Every single thing about the scene chiseled pieces of his heart away.

Then, suddenly, Casey was looking up directly into his eyes. For the first time in months. And it literally stole his breath away. But there was no relief for either of them. Her expression had quickly morphed into disbelief and Bryce was hit with the full force of everything that had happened between them.

“What are you doing here?” Even through the hostility in her tone, he could hear the weakness of her voice.

“You… I heard you were in trouble.”

“So?”

Bryce stumbled back with the force of the word as if he’s been physically struck. “I needed to see you. To check on you.”

“Shouldn’t you still be in surgery?”

“Inez called Tanaka and he took over for me. Kyra’s in the next best possible hands.”

Casey let out a harsh scoff. “Seriously, Bryce? I’ve asked you for only one goddamn thing in the past six fucking months. To get Kyra through this surgery. And you couldn’t even do that?”

“Casey – “

“Forget it. You’ve seen me. Now you can go. I’m sure your girlfriend is probably worried about you by now. You shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

Bryce sucked in a sharp breath. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he’d come running, but this sure wasn’t it. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed the way her eyes followed him whenever they were in the same room. The glares she’d shoot in his direction when Amber was with him.

He liked Amber well enough, but, as terrible as it sounds, he only kept her around to make Casey jealous. To help distract him until Casey finally figured out what the hell it was that she wanted. Until Casey figured out that she was meant to be with him. But here they were months later and nothing had changed.

Except everything had changed. Because she could very well be dying. And he’d wasted so much time trying to play head games with her. Trying to get back at her for how she’d made him feel when she’d pushed him away.

Now, he realized, as he saw the flash of emotions through her eyes, he had done too good of a job at convincing her that he had moved on. Casey was never going to believe anything that he had to say, anything he desperately needed to say. Not that he could blame her. Why would she believe that he still loved her when he’d done everything possible to make sure she’d seen him all wrapped up with Amber any chance he got?

Dropping his head to stare at his shoes, he muttered, “I, uh… I won’t be far. Just in case you, uh, you need something. Okay?”

“Whatever.”

Without looking up, he turned on his heel and found his way into one of the evacuated rooms down the hall. Settling himself into corner of the room that butted up against the hallway so that he wouldn’t be seen through the crack in the door, he sank down until his face was buried against his knees. He’d never felt so helpless in his entire life. The one person who meant anything to him in this entire world was stuck in a room with some mystery substance threatening to take her away for good. He wanted nothing more than to be there for her, supporting her in every way possible, but she didn’t want that from him.

He couldn’t stand to be any further away from her than he currently was, though, so he hid out in the room throughout the night. He gradually inched closer to the door, in order to pick up on the pieces of conversation taking place in the hallway. Knowing that Ramsey and the diagnostics team were on the case had helped to ease some of his fears. That was, until he heard them telling her what had been in the can. Until he heard the words he’d been dreading for hours. “There is no cure.”

His entire world stopped. He couldn’t drag air into his lungs. He couldn’t see the light shining through the door opening. He couldn’t even smell the thick odor of disinfectant that permeated the air.

I’m going to lose her. No. Stop that, Bryce. They are going to figure this out. The brightest medical minds in the world are working on her case. They will fix this.

Still, he couldn’t shake the iron grip of fear around his heart. It took far longer than it should have for him to push himself to his feet. Even longer to actually figure out how to move them towards her room. This time, he was painfully aware of all the gazes falling on him as he trekked towards his destination. He couldn’t miss the pitiful, knowing looks he was receiving.

When he was once again standing in front of her window, he realized that she was now all alone in the room and his heart squeezed even harder. She was wobbling precariously as she seemed to be attempting to pace across the room. It took every ounce of self-control he’d ever possessed to not run into the room and haul her into his arms.

“Casey?”

Her movements were incredibly disjointed as she swiveled around to face him and her face was knotted up in confusion.

“Bryce?”

“Yeah. It’s me.”

“What ar – “ a violent coughing fit overtook her and very nearly brought her to her knees.

“Hey. Why, uh, why don’t you go sit on the bed for a minute, Case?”

“Can’t. Have to keep moving. Can’t solve this if I fall asleep.”

“You don’t have to solve this at all. You’ve got the best team of doctors ever working on this. Your only job is to preserve your strength.”

“Don’t… don’t tell me what to do, Bryce.”

“I’m just – “

“Well don’t. I’ve been doing just – “ Casey blanched, stumbling over to a waste bin next to her cot just before the retching started.

Bryce’s fingers itched to hold her, to pull her hair back out of her way, to hold a cool washcloth to her face. Anything to bring her some semblance of comfort. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted an extra hazmat suit, and a glimmer of hope bloomed within his chest.

“Hey, Case. There’s an extra suit out here. If you want, I can put it on and come keep you company.”

“No.” The strength behind the word was reassuring even as it cut straight to his heart.

“What?”

“You moved on. You have your … girlfriend and I’m sure she wouldn’t be pleased to find out you’d entered a contamination zone for your ex. And I … I don’t want you here. I’m just fine on my own.”

“But – “

“I said no. Now just… go home, Bryce. Just go home.”

Shocked and heartbroken, he stared at her back for several long moments before he finally was able to tear himself away from the window. He retreated back to his hiding place, unable to argue with her wishes but also unable to leave her completely. He needed to be near in case she needed something. In case she needed him.

What could have been an hour later or maybe five, he honestly didn’t know, Bryce was broken out of his contemplative misery by a commotion in the hall. He listened intently for any sort of hope or happiness amongst the chaos, but instead only heard words that had his blood running cold.

“She’s coding!”

He didn’t even remember moving, but suddenly found himself standing outside her window yet again. His face was pressed up to it as tightly as was possible, fingernails scratching at the glass. Please save her. Please don’t let her die. Whether it was a plea or a prayer, he honestly didn’t know, but he kept repeating it in his mind over and over as he watched the team of doctors trying to restore her heart rhythm as time ceased to exist.

Seemingly without warning, everyone stopped and a silence punctuated only by the harsh, flat tone of the heart monitor settled over the room.

#bryce x mc #bryce lahela x mc #tw: character death #cw: character death

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crowtrinkets · 4 years ago

Text

Wet Cobblestone

The Apprentice works as Julian's apprentice, but they're having a hard time dealing with the reality of the Red Plague. They miss Asra and try to find comfort in... other forms.

Julian and GN!Apprentice

Word Count: 4,095

Warning: Drinking to cope and big sad

(Am I writing to avoid responsibilities? Yes)

---

Wet cobblestone. It's never really a thing you pay attention to, not unless you’re trying to forget something. Something so heart-wrenchingly cruel and painful that you’ll pay attention to the sounds of your boots sauntering across wet cobblestone. Trying to clear your mind after condemning someone to death. Life was easy when I was simply a magician, before the plague, before Asra, before I became a doctor’s apprentice. I didn’t think it would be this difficult, I thought I could cure the plague. But at this point, it’s become a wave, and it’s going to swallow this city whole. I should have left.

The bell jingling on the door of Julian's clinic snaps me out of my thoughts. I didn’t even realize I had already made my way across town from my house call. I was returning from a patient visit. It wasn’t a good one. I remove my mask and take a deep sigh, wiping the sweat off my skin, it may be cold out in Vesuvia but wearing a mask for hours takes its toll. I drop my mask onto Julian's desk as I walk into the back supply room. A wave of emotions overtakes me as I feel my heart racing in my chest. I take a deeply pained gasp trying to compose myself, but it only wills the tears into falling faster. The aching pain in my heart manifests itself in my sobs, I cover my mouth with my leather gloved hand trying to stifle it. Falling to my knees I sob silently. Mourning the victims, mourning myself, mourning my confidence. Did I really think I could cure the plague? Me? A lowly magician? One who couldn’t even manage a relationship, and drove my once chance away.

The wind howls outside, whistling as it makes its way through the drafts of Julian’s clinic. I continue to cry but not as hard. It always goes like this, I hide, I cry, I stop and I go back to work. Slowly standing, I sniffle and wipe my face with my sleeve. I then hear footsteps and start to frantically dry my eyes. I can’t let Julian see me like this, he always tries to take the burden of my pain and I can't let him do that, he’s already too busy. Still wiping my face I quickly walk out of the supply closet but run head-on into the man in front of me.

“Oh my! Oh hello there MC? Oh uh… are you alright?” It's Julian. I avoid looking at him, hoping he doesn’t see the redness of my eyes, stinging from my tears. I slowly nod.

“Yes… I’m alright Julian, thank you,” I slowly back away but he brings an arm around my shoulder.

“Come, I think we both deserve some tea, hm?” He guides me to the clinic kitchen. It's small and has an even smaller chair with a few tables. But it's cozy and a perfect place for tea, and for becoming existential on those especially hard days. I sit at the table and Julian approaches the stove. He fills the kettle with water and searches for matches to light the wood-fire stove.

“Hrm uh, I can’t seem to find the uh… would you mind?” Before he can finish I give Julian a quick nod as I approach the stove. Opening the hatch I use my magic to create a modest fire.

“Ahh, thank you, my dear, I knew having a magician as an apprentice would come in handy,” Julian winks, it causes me to give a small smile, but in an instant, it's gone, and I turn to take my place back at the table. Julian takes to standing by the stove, almost like he thinks watching the pot will cause the water to boil faster. It does not matter to me, I’m still going through the motions of my solo adventure in the supply closet. A few minutes go by and Julian prepares two cups of tea. He offers me sugar which I accept, before placing my cup in front of me and taking the seat across. We sit in silence, sipping our warm beverages, listening to the wind howling outside as rain slowly approaches. The sweetness of the sugar is nice on my tongue, but I still feel the ache in my chest. Julian can’t seem to sit still. His eyes shift from me to his cup, me, cup, the wall, cup, me. I can’t take his fidgeting much longer.

“Are you going to ask me why I was crying?” Julian jumps a little when I break the silence.

“I don’t wish to impose but, not every day you find your apprentice crying in a supply closet,” he attempts to joke. Oh if only he knew.

“I made a house call, to a family of four. They’re all infected and very far along in their symptoms,” I circle my finger around the rim of my cup, attempting to keep my composure. “They’re all being sent to the Lazaret as we speak,” Julian gives me a knowing nod. Humming in response as he glares into his cup. We both know this feeling too well. Having to send innocent people to their demise, where they will be cremated, and buried. Without a marker, without a proper funeral.

“You know what they said to me?” My voice wavers. “They said that they were going to dress in the nicest clothing they had before they left for the Lazaret… so they could go out… looking their best,” hot wet tears start to fall down my face again. I bring my hand to my face, but I stop when the leather makes contact with my hand. These hands, they try to help, but all they can do is condemn people to death, and prolong their suffering by keeping them alive, occasionally aiding the pain. But it's only temporary. I rip off my gloves and send them across the room. As far away from me as possible. Bringing my face into my hands I begin to sob once again.

I hear Julian stand in his chair, and then I feel two arms bring me into the warm hug. The first hug I’ve had in… a while, not since before my fight with Asra. I turn into his chest, letting ugly sobs escape me, while I cling to him like a lost child. All Julian does is hug me, stroking my back with a hand. But it’s the comfort I’ve needed for a while.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m supposed to be working and here I am sobbing into your shoulder,” I finally pull away from Julian, my hands still on his chest. He keeps one hand on my shoulder, while the other rests on my hand placed over his heart.

“Well I didn’t think we were on the clock, I thought we were just having a tea break hm?” Julian's warm voice always seemed to soothe me in times of stress. But I’ve never broken down like this in front of him. Ever since taking up my apprenticeship with him, I’ve always tried to be the stronger one. Julian is definitely one for dramatics so I thought I had to be strong to compensate. For the sake of morals. What a load of good that did me.

I give Julian a nod, and stare at his hand, pressed softly on top of mine. Despite his gloves, I can feel just how cold his hands are. When I brought it up in the past he said something about it “matching his heart” but I know in reality Julian is a softy. I mean he made me tea and let me cry into his clothes. I flush slightly and pull my hands back. How long have I been holding on to him?

“Thank you, Julian,” I gaze into his kind, stormy eyes. He looks like he hasn’t been sleeping well. I probably look no better, however. I can't sleep. I spend every night haunted by my patients, their cries and wet coughs echoing in my head. I can't even sleep in my own bed, it feels empty and without life. Sometimes I sleep at my desk in the clinic. I wait until Julian has left, or has promptly passed out at his own desk, and try to get some sleep, but even then.

My eyes travel Julian’s face as he still crouches beside me, a hand on my shoulder. I reach my hand up and I tuck a strand of his auburn hair behind his ear, he shivers slightly at the contact. Is this ok? To be like this towards him? I’m his apprentice but… maybe I can be selfish. Just this once. I grab his other hand, lacing our fingers together. Julian’s eyes have gone wide, a flush of pink settling on his face. He stands instantly, pulling away, and clears his throat.

“W-well it seems the rain has let up? And oh! It must be half past 5, and you know what they say about 5 o’clock,” gathering our now cold tea and disposing of it. I suddenly feel cold at the loss of his touch. No, maybe I was doing too much. We work together this isn't some fling like we’re teenagers. Professional, yes.

“I-I could go for a drink,” Julian whips around from the sink and looks at me. A grin forming on his lips. I stand and awkwardly grab my gloves from the corner where I threw them.

“I’ll just change into regular clothing, I think seeing a doctor at a bar will damper the mood,” with a nod from Julian, I exit into the bathroom where Julian and I keep our personal items. I remove my protective gear, undoing the claps and putting it away along with my gloves. I grab my travel cloak and swing it around my shoulders. Exiting the bathroom I go to find Julian. A few drinks couldn’t hurt especially after the day I had.

“Ready to go, my dear?” He asks exiting the kitchen, putting his arm out for me to grasp. With a nod I take it and we exit the clinic together.

—- At the Rowdy Raven

How many tankards has it been? 3? 4? 6? I lost track. The world around me swirls, I hear people shouting because of an unfair card game. I rub a hand across my face, my lips are numb, just like my emotions. Good, I don’t want to feel tonight. I can't remember the last time I drank this much. Julian approaches with a glass of water and hands it to me.

“I uh, think you should drink this, and maybe I should walk you home,” I take the glass reluctantly and take a sip. It's cold and soothes the burn in my chest.

“Wow doctor, if I didn’t know you well enough I think you’d be tryna get me to take you home,” my words slur out. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or my loneliness but Julian is looking extra… something. Shit, I'm not sure, my words are failing me. My eyes are blurry and sounds seem to echo but I think I can see Julian blushing.

“Just, drink your water, I don’t think you will be able to work effectively with a hangover,” he sits next to me and moves the glass closer. With a groan, I take the drink and slowly but eventually finish it all. Feeling a little bit more sober, Julian and I leave the Raven together.

Right out the door, I stumble, Julian catches me by the elbows.

“Woah there! Maybe I should’ve had you drink another glass,” he laughs putting an arm around me to support me, his embrace is warm in comparison to the biting cold wind outside. The walk back to my shop is quiet. There's no conversation, just the sound of our shoes tapping along the wet cobblestone, and me occasionally losing my balance. The wind starts to pick up, sending leaves through the air. I stumble a little against it as it whips my face leaving me shivering. That’ll sober you up. I then feel a drop fall onto my head. Julian and I stop mid-walk and look up at the sky.

“It would seem the storm has picked up,” I nod in response, Julian then looks at me, his usual smirk plastered on his lips. “Think you’re sober enough to run?” He asks.

“Run?” I tilt my head. Just then the rain starts to pick up, and a downpour approaches. “Run!” I shout. We both take off in the rain, headed towards my shop. I grab onto Julian's hand hoping to keep up with him and we laugh as we race through the streets. We finally approach my shop and I hastily open it so we can get warm and dry.

I close the door and lean against it, heart-pounding and breath heavy. Julian is leaning on the counter trying to catch his own breath. I watch as he runs a hand through his hair, sending rain droplets onto his shoulders. The moon shines through a window, illuminating his pale skin. My stomach starts to flutter with nerves, or maybe it's the alcohol. I gulp.

“My, I didn’t expect it to come down like that!” Julian laughs. He rights himself and walks in a circle, observing my shop. “I don’t think I’ve ever really seen the inside of your shop,” he glances at me.

“Oh yea, I um haven't been keeping it open lately cause I’ve been too busy so it’s a little messy… sorry,” I nervously fiddle with the seam of my cloak. Why am I so flustered? Professional! this is a PROFESSIONAL setting. Just two co-workers who went out for drinks… and held hands in the rain… and now he's wet... in my shop. Oh, he’s wet! He’s going to catch a cold!

“W-why don’t I make us some tea and I’ll grab you a towel dry off?” I head towards the stairs and stop before I go up, looking at Julian over my shoulder. Please follow please follow please follow. He nods and we both ascend the stairs.

After clumsily filling the kettle and starting the stove, Julian tries to make me sit, but I insist I am fine and that the rain sobered me up. However I am not fine, I can manage on my own but my emotions are all over the place, why is Julian making me feel so strange? Why am I feeling things towards him? Like I want him to touch me and... No! Professional.

I find a few mismatched towels and bring them over. I hand them to Julian as I take one myself and dry myself off. I technically have a spell to fix all this but… I don’t want him to leave. Julian wraps a towel around his shoulders as he sits in a chair at the table. And then silence falls upon us once again.

“Um, thank you again, Julian, you always seem to know how to cheer me up,” I stand awkwardly, shifting my weight and avoiding Julian's eyes.

“Well, what kind of boss would I be if I didn’t take my employees out every once in a while?” He tries to be suave, but I can sense some unease in his voice. Water drips from his hair to his shoulders.

“Oh! Your hair is still wet,” I approach the table and grab a smaller towel, placing it on Julian, covering his face. Without thinking I begin to dry his hair. Rubbing the towel all over.

“Oh um, thank you,” Julian says. I freeze in place. What the hell am I doing. I slowly move my hands from the top of Julian's head to the back, towards his nape, where I slowly pull off the towel so it falls on his shoulders revealing his face. However, never in all my days did I expect Julian to be gazing at me like he was. His eyes were wide, filled with surprise and wonder. His mouth agape as he looked up at me, still slouched in the chair while I stand between his legs. My arms rest on his shoulders as I look down at him. Neither of us speaks a word. Suddenly I feel Julian’s arms, wrap around my back, he’s not grabbing me, just holding me, keeping me in place. I catch his eyes flick up and down multiple times. And I would be lying if I said mine wasn’t doing so too. The moonlight once again beams through the window as it pokes through the clouds. Illuminating Julians face with a cool glow. But at the same moment, my eye catches a glimpse of something on the table. I look over Julian's shoulders at it. No, it can't be, it was too dark in here to see but now that the moon is out... I see it. The succulent Asra bought me a while ago. It’s dead. A wave of emotion overtakes me, I look down at Julian who stares up at me, confused and almost expectantly.

“Julian, I-I’m so sorry,” I pull away from him, turning my back to face him. Trying to hide my embarrassment. “I shouldn’t have done that, or any of the things I did, I’m sorry. I’m just a mess,”

“A mess? Whatever makes you say that” I hear Julian stand, the chair squeaking as he pushes it back into place. I turn around and gesture towards the potted plant in the center of the table.

“The plant it was a gift from… from a friend, and I let it die,” My vision starts to become blurry once again.

“Well I’m sure your friend would understand, you have been busy lately-“

“You don’t understand!” The flood gates open. “I can’t even keep a plant alive let alone my patients! And all day I’ve just been selfish trying to flirt with you when I could have been working!” The ugly sobs return, I cry into my towel, hoping I’ll open my eyes and all of this will be a dream. How embarrassing I must look.

In the midst of my cries I hear the kettle started whistling. Mid sob, I turn toward the kitchenette and prepare tea for Julian and me. No cream or sugar for Julian, a teaspoon of sugar for myself. I turn around to give Julian his tea but he’s already behind me, reaching for the cup. He takes his drink and sits back at the table, and I join him with my respective cup. Snapping my finger, I like the singular candle on my kitchen table. Once again we are sat in silence drinking our tea. I’ve stopped sobbing, but my tears continue to fall.

“I’m sorry again Julian,” I sniffle between words. “I cannot lie I had an ulterior motive to bring you to my shop, but I shouldn’t have done that,” I’m too embarrassed to even meet his gaze.

“It’s alright, I cannot lie and say I didn’t sense you were up to something, so in a sense, I should also be apologizing,” I meet Julian’s eyes once again, he’s staring at me with a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. Taking a sip of his tea he continues.

“I understand it’s been hard for… all of us, because of the plague, but you can't allow it to overtake you and make you feel weak,” at this point I have calmed down, my cheeks stained in tears and my nose sniffly. I nod in response, gazing at my poor succulent.

“You said a friend gifted it to you?” Julian tries to strike up a conversation.

“Yes… he um loved to travel and would bring me gifts often,” I take a sip of my tea trying to keep myself composed.

“Were you close?” Julian asks. My eyes shift to his wondrous expression.

“Yes along the lines of that,” I pause for a second contemplating if I should tell him. “We got into an argument when the plague first became really bad. He wanted to leave, and I wanted to stay and help… So he left,” the last few words taste bitter in my mouth.

“Do you miss him?” I pause for a minute before I finally nod. Embarrassed to confess to Julian I was essentially trying to use him.

“I hope you don’t think ill of me… I should really stay away from the bottle,” I laugh bitterly. Julian quietly laughs in response.

“I could never think ill of you,”

“Thank you….” I glance out the window, the rain is still coming down hard. I don’t want to kick Julian out after I treated him so terribly.

“Would you like to sleep here, tonight? Just because of the rain and… I would feel awful sending you to walk home in that,” I gesture to the window. Julian gives me a smile and nods.

“Yes that would be lovely, I can sleep on the floor,”

“Oh no! You can sleep in my bed I insist!”

“I feel sleeping in your bed is a step backward from today,” he jokes. I flush with embarrassment.

“I suppose so,” I stand from the table and collect the cups and bring them to the sink. After cleaning the mess and gathering the laundry I hand Julian some pillows and blankets from my bed. Julian then goes into the bathroom to get ready for bed leaving me alone. I quickly change into my sleep clothes and stare at my bed before climbing in. I haven’t slept in my own bed in a while. I’ve been avoiding my shop like… well, you know. The memory of Asra and I fighting haunts me in my sleep. And now all I can think of when I’m here is how he would hold me in bed. I couldn’t bear to sleep in it alone.

“Well I don’t think staring at your bed will help you fall asleep any faster,” I whip around to see Julian, standing in nothing but trousers. I try not to let him see my flush.

“Yes of course,” I crawl into bed and wrap myself in a blanket and try not to stare while Julian approaches and lays on the floor beside my bed. He lets out a sigh once he’s comfortable and then there is silence. Had it not been for the rain beating hard on the windows, Julian would have heard my loud nervous breathing. I can’t remember the last time I slept in my own bed let alone while someone was here with me. I shut my eyes and try to will myself asleep.

Nothings working, my mind wanders worried about my patients, about my poor plants, about Asra, about Julian, about my shop. Anything and everything is causing anxiety in my mind. I toss and turn in bed trying to get comfortable but nothing works. After what feels like 2 hours have passed I finally open my eyes and let out a huff.

“Can’t sleep?” Julian’s groggy tone cuts through the silence. I let out a sigh.

“Yes… I haven’t had much sleep lately, I guess I’m not used to sleeping alone,”

“We’ll you’re technically not alone right now…”

“Yes I guess you’re right… But there's a difference between someone sleeping in your bed and someone sleeping next to your bed,” Julian lets out a short laugh.

“Yes I guess that is so, I’ve never had the best luck sleeping either… would you… would you want me to hold your hand?”

“What?” I quickly sit up and look over the edge of my bed at Julian. It’s very dark but I feel that I can see him blushing.

“Well you know, so you don’t feel like you’re sleeping alone,” his voice wavers slightly. I guess that makes sense.

“Ok,” I say. I then lay on my stomach and scooch to the edge of the bed and allow my arm to hang over the side, my hand finds Julians and we both lay there in silence. Our hands interlocked, listening as the rain comes down in the streets. Julian's hands are still cold as usual, but it’s soothing in a sense, against my hands that are usually hot and aching with tension like the rest of my body. I eventually hear Julian’s breath still into a sleepy rhythm. I keep my eyes on him, watching his chest rise and fall as tendrils of moonlight poke through the curtains. Eventually, I close my eyes, and slowly but surely I fall asleep into a warm comforting slumber.

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana julian #julian devorak #ilya devorak #the arcana fanfic #crow writes

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leapyearkisses · 4 years ago

Text

Orbs Are Bad News 2/2 - (m/m) Gerrit/Llewellyn

Part deux wherein they fuck. I have no shame. Happy Sunday.

There are also some feelings.

NSFW, MESS, outdoor sex

I’m glad I decided to reread and repost these lol

---

"Are you ever going to stop sneezing?" Remembrance asked. At the same time, Cordes said, "One thousand blessings, Llewellyn, one for each." The two of them were several yards ahead on the road, and only Cordes was looking back over his shoulder. Right now, the four party members were the only travelers on this particular stretch, although as they got closer to civilization, they'd started to pass the odd wanderer, farmers with wagons, even a merchant or two. The woods here were broken up periodically by stretches of arable land, clear-cut several decades ago and now waving with wheat, flax, or various vegetable leaves. The fields were golden in the late sun. Their shadows stretched behind them like taffy, rippling on the cobblestones. The day was vanishing quickly, and Gerrit could sense his companions' impatience to move on even as he stopped again himself, drawing out his handkerchief in a now very familiar motion.

Llewellyn, for his part, could not answer them, face buried in his elbow as he ducked with another reluctant outburst. "Hahktschiu! Hahh- happtsch!"

"Bless," said Gerrit, and he stepped in front of the elf to shield him marginally from view. He laid one warm hand on the back of Llewellyn's neck and lifted the handkerchief with the other, capturing the next sneeze in the flannel folds. He settled his fingers firmly around Llewellyn's nose.

This was an arrangement that had been born out of necessity three days ago when the party had raided a bandit camp's plundered stores. Along with a good stash of gold and gems, they'd found a blue crystal orb, cursed perhaps, that had summarily become attached to both of Llewellyn's hands, rendering the sorcerer unable to do most anything... including take care of his cold on his own.

Llewellyn blew his nose into the handkerchief, wetting the cloth and dampening Gerrit's fingers through it. Originally quite opposed to such a display outside of the most private circumstances, the elf had been forced to put his pride aside and let Gerrit help him. His fever had abated the previous day, but the frequency of his sneezing had increased, as if his body was insistent now on ridding itself of whatever illness remained. It was a horrific prospect to Llewellyn to catch the resulting mess every time in the sleeve of his robes... so he suffered Gerrit to hold the handkerchief, even though they were walking along the road where any might see them.

Despite some initial teasing, Remembrance and Cordes had quickly grown accustomed to the practice and now cared not at all, except to complain. "We're going to have to camp again," grumbled Remembrance. "Five miles from Veigh and we're going to be stuck without a bath!"

"Is there anything I could do for you?" Cordes asked, somewhat exasperated. The priest had made several herbal concoctions for Llewellyn over the past few days, but none had helped the elf's nose much. Cordes's specialty was unfortunately not the curing of disease but the mending of bones and flesh.

"Ndo," Llewellyn growled, as fed up as the rest of them. "I'm beyond heh- help. Hngtschiu!"

"Bless you, arimelda," said Gerrit, trying to keep his voice even. He shifted the handkerchief so that Llewellyn could have a drier spot, trying to ignore a glimpse of slickness on the elf's face. "Remembrance, Cordes, why don't the two of you go on ahead? Find an inn, get a room, take a bath, whatever you want. It might be prudent also to send a message ahead to the Mages Guild about the orb. Will you do that? Llewellyn and I will join you when we arrive."

Cordes nodded. "Yes, I'll draft a letter as soon as- Hey!" Remembrance had grabbed his arm and was rushing ahead already.

"Let's go, man!" she said. "Everyone loves a damn priest; you're my ticket to a good room, so may your god help you if you dawdle." Her pointed tail swished as she practically jogged down the road. Cordes spluttered but could no more stand up to her as to a tornado, so off they went. It was a remarkably short time before the two of them were out of earshot, disappearing around a bend.

Gerrit sighed but turned his attention back to Llewellyn, who was blowing his nose again. The handkerchief was running out of clean corners this late in the day, but the elf leaned back this time when he was finished. "All set?" Gerrit asked.

"Yes." Llewellyn rubbed his eyes on his upper arm, wiping away a spare tear from the effort. "...My apologies." He cleared his throat, refusing to meet Gerrit's gaze. "We may arrive after dark."

"You're ill," said Gerrit, trying to fold the flannel in a way as to avoid his pocket getting wet. "We'd move faster if you let me carry y-"

"No."

"Then I don't mind taking a more leisurely pace." Gerrit smiled. Even after everything, Llewellyn was stubborn. Honestly, since they weren't really in a rush, he didn't really care when they reached Veigh; they'd only detoured here to try and remove the orb. If Llewellyn, the most inconvenienced, didn't want to give up his pride and piggyback on... well, Gerrit found his noble hauteur inexplicably cute.

He also wasn't in a particular hurry because it was awfully uncomfortable to make any sort of time with his arousal pressed flush to his thigh.

Llewellyn coughed into his elbow and then started walking again. Gerrit had pulled back his hood for him in the morning and braided his hair, and the crown of plaits caught the afternoon sunlight like an obsidian. Gerrit tried not to let his eyes linger on the sorcerer's pale nape. Or any other part of him. He and Llewellyn had been travelling together for close to three years, working for their current patron in the capital, and in that time Gerrit had felt himself growing closer to the elf. Wanting to be closer, anyway.

Llewellyn shot a glance at him and caught him looking. Gerrit flushed and turned his gaze back ahead to the road.

"You've been very accommodating during all of this," the elf said, tone carefully neutral.

Gerrit shrugged. "It doesn't bear mentioning. We're comrades."

"Comrades," Llewellyn repeated, an edge to his voice that Gerrit couldn't quite place. "Is that all it is?" He kicked a stick that had fallen to the cobblestones, sending it into the brush. Somewhere to the right, bumblebees droned over a meadow.

Gerrit swallowed. "Yes? You and I, we've helped each other before. I consider you to be a steadfast companion." Eyes on the road. Eyes on the dappled play of shadowed leaves and light on the ground. "Why do you ask?"

"So shy," Llewellyn exclaimed, a tad mockingly. "You've never been shy about taking me to bed, Gerrit." Despite his short height, the elf seemed to find it easy to look down his nose at the much taller fighter. "Has something changed?"

"Changed?" Eyes on the road.

Llewellyn stopped walking. "You called me 'arimelda.' 'Dearest.' Did you think I wouldn't hear you over my sneezing?" He couldn't cross his arms with his hands trapped by the orb, but the set of his jaw was determined and his firm brows were arched. "I wasn't so distracted then as you seem to have thought."

Gerrit shoved his hands in his pockets. He stopped walking but didn't turn. "Apparently not," he muttered. "Look, we can set it aside. Doesn't have to mean anything – doesn't have to change anything. I know a highborn elf like you wouldn't consider an official relationship with a half-elven bastard, and I've known that from the start. For my whole life. So... I care about you. But it can just be as comrades, or whatever you want it to be." Llewellyn was quiet, and after a long minute, Gerrit did turn on his heel, desperate to know what kind of reaction he'd provoked.

He saw Llewellyn standing with his eyes closed and head titled back, lips parted. The elf's nostrils flared as he gasped.

"Are you going to sneeze again??" Gerrit asked. He threw up his hands, then went for his handkerchief once more. They did have an arrangement.

He strode back over to Llewellyn's side and tucked the cloth around his nose again, thumb and forefinger just resting on the elf's nostrils. He started to rub Llewellyn's back. "You have the worst timing, you know? Here I am, spilling my heart to you and everything."

"Sh-hhuh-t up, I jh- just nih-" Llewellyn gasped again and gave in; he had no other choice. "Hahktscht!" He moaned and pressed closer into the handkerchief, thick congestion only aggravating the itch that remained inside. "Hkktschtt! Hngtscht! Hahh- ah-- ankcxttschiu!"

"Easy... it's okay." Gerrit massaged Llewellyn’s nose, tried to soothe the irritation. He guided Llewellyn to the side of the road, and, in a moment of calm, settled him to sit on the grassy bank. He followed, kneeling at the elf's side. Llewellyn was tearing up again and his nose was twitching against the pads of Gerrit's fingers. Gerrit felt electric all over. He found himself wishing the handkerchief was gone so that he might touch the soft, heated skin of Llewellyn's septum, coax the elf to relax and loose his tension, sneeze into Gerrit's palm. The mess didn't bother him; none of it bothered him. He was supremely unbothered. His cock was almost painfully hard.

It took several more minutes punctuated with more urgent expulsions before Llewellyn seemed to trust himself to speak. His eyes were wet with unshed tears, eyelids tender and reddened. His nose was brightly ruddy, running to chapped. He had to take a shaky breath, collecting his thoughts. "Gerrit."

"Yes?" Gerrit lowered the handkerchief, gently pinching as he did to clear any lingering moisture. He wasn't ready to hear a rejection, nor did he feel particularly ready for a lecture or a tirade or even a logical exploration of why a relationship was a bad idea. He wanted, if possible, to keep walking to Veigh, side by side, listening to the bees and dragonflies and songbirds settling in for the evening, feeling the light breeze on his face, replete with the scents of summer.

"Kiss me."

Gerrit blinked, mental caravan bunching to a halt. "What?"

Llewellyn nudged him in the chest with the orb. "Kiss me. You're all worked up." He cleared his throat. "And judging by the state of you, you're not put off by my cold. So?" He tilted his head to the side, gently, closed his eyes. "I want you to kiss me."

Baffled, but feeling as though maybe all was not lost, Gerrit obliged, pressing their lips together. His own eyes slid closed and he cupped Llewellyn's cheek, deepening the kiss, touching their tongues together, trying to convey how he felt. Whatever had changed. The kiss lasted for too short a time; Llewellyn broke away to breathe, eyes half-lidded, but he didn't lean away.

"I'm not going to dismiss you out of hand," he said. "You or your feelings. But I would ask for some time to think." He looked up through his lashes. "Are you feeling better?"

Gerrit could feel his pulse in every extremity. "Not really," he managed, and he kissed Llewellyn again, this time sliding one hand under the elf's head and one at his hip and pressing him back to lay in the grass. He moaned in his throat as Llewellyn kissed back, and when they had to break for breath, he started to kiss at Llewellyn's forehead, jaw, throat, wherever he could touch skin. His hands roamed over the elf's body, smoothing over hip and thigh and belly until he could start to undo the buttons on Llewellyn's close-cut robes.

"Gerrit," gasped Llewellyn. He moved the orb between them, jamming it into Gerrit's sternum. "You are not going to sleep with me on the side of the damn road! Get ahold of yourself!"

Gerrit growled at the quick pain in his chest, then shook his head and leaned back. He flushed deeply and pulled his hands away. "Oh. Oh, fuck, sorry. I-"

"Pick me up." Llewellyn lifted his arms.

"What??" Gerrit's brain was having a hard time keeping up at the moment, all of his blood being elsewhere.

"There was a thicker copse of trees back about thirty feet, on the left." Llewellyn waved the orb at him. "Pick me up. We can lay down there."

So. So Gerrit ducked his head into the circle of Llewellyn’s arms and picked him up, holding him securely and setting off down the road again, back the way they’d come. The elf was right; there, about twenty feet back from the bank, was a thick copse of pines, all grown together with wild geranium and maidenhead ferns. Gerrit pushed through, shoulder first. Despite its proximity to the thoroughfare, the inside of the stand was quiet and shielded completely from view. This would do nicely.

He set Llewellyn back on his feet and made short work of undressing him, first freeing the sorcerer from his pouches and bags, then undoing the silver buttons on his robe from his collarbone to his crotch. The rich fabric fell open appealingly. Next, Gerrit freed the elf from his boots and leggings. A long white shirt, woven from the finest of elven angora, still covered him, but Gerrit pushed the fabric up over Llewellyn’s belly, leaning in to kiss the elf again and touching him intimately.

Llewellyn moaned and nudged Gerrit’s hip with the orb. “Now you,” he said. “I want to see your body.”

Gerrit complied, making quick time shedding his cloak, pack, leather armor, breeches, boots. Two daggers, two short swords, caltrops, a bow and quiver, a glaive, and a spiked whip followed. He pushed them to the side as Llewellyn rolled his eyes.

"You can't possibly have a use for all of those," the elf said, and then Gerrit captured his mouth again.

He laid Llewellyn down on the soft carpet of pine needles, using his cloak to cover the ground and double as a makeshift pillow. The elf was beautiful in the shifting shade, skin flawless. He had the orb resting on his chest and it glowed intermittently in the inconstant sunlight. The gold chain netting that encapsulated both the orb and Llewellyn's fine-boned hands glimmered. "You know," said Gerrit, smoothing a hand down Llewellyn's bare thigh. "You'd look pretty good bound up in gold chain."

"This isn't enough for you?" He scoffed.

Gerrit laughed. "It would be fun to tease you. I love it when you fuss at me. So cute." He dodged Llewellyn's elbow and settled down on his stomach, hooked one of Llewellyn's legs over his shoulder, and nuzzled the base of the elf's cock. "Ready, arimelda?" His own cock was under him, pressed to his stomach in the confines of his shirt. He could feel his pulse in the head of it, quickening with the scent of his lover.

"Yes, you prick," sighed the elf, and he moaned when Gerrit started to kiss him and lave his skin. His fingers flexed on the orb, longing to wind into Gerrit's hair.

Gerrit took Llewellyn into his mouth eagerly, fingers curled over the elf's thighs, fingertips pressing at the sensitive inner surface as he sucked and teased and swallowed. Like this, he could focus on Llewellyn's pleasure. The noises the usually stoic and prideful sorcerer was making were enough to make Gerrit moan, mouth full, and rock his hips. Nothing pleased Gerrit more than seeing Llewellyn undone, seeing the elf flushed and open and undone for him. And he shivered, all over, when he heard the elf's breath catch and his tone go wavery. He thought he could come from this, listening to Llewellyn sneeze while pleasuring him implacably with a heated, well-placed tongue.

"Aa, aa, ahh- ih- Gerrit, I-" Llewellyn drew his knee up, curling, heel drawing along Gerrit's back. "I nih- need to snih- hh-"

Gerrit drew his head back, let Llewellyn's cock free for a moment. He didn't loosen his grip on the elf's legs, though, wound up and desirous. "Okay by me, melda, it's okay. Feel all right? Want me to stop?" He was breathless himself, had to force the words past the distraction of his arousal, but he would abide.

"No, don't stop," Llewellyn groaned, then turned his head to the side. "Hpptscht! Hah- Haktschiu!"

"Bless, bless." Gerrit kissed Llewellyn's thigh tenderly, then nipped it, drew his tongue over the hurt, sucked a bruise to mark its place. He swallowed Llewellyn down again as the elf cried out in pleasure and then bent with another helpless burst. Gerrit wondered if he could make Llewellyn come simultaneously with a sneeze and what that might feel like. The fantasy set him alight. His abdomen was tight, his cock like a brand on his stomach. He redoubled his efforts.

Gerrit felt it first, when Llewellyn came, in the tightening of the elf's thighs and stomach, then tasted the salt of his release. His world narrowed down to taking it in, swallowing, milking with his mouth while Llewellyn cried out, going until the elf was pushing him away, keening, oversensitive. He didn't wait to lift Llewellyn then into his lap, cradling him with one arm and stroking himself with the other hand, desperate to come as well. Llewellyn pressed his face to the junction of Gerrit's neck and shoulder, tightly gripping the cloth of Gerrit's shirt as they rocked together. The elf's nose was gently wet and he was panting, sniffling. Gerrit came with a shout, holding him close, shaking with an overabundance of pleasure. He let go of his cock and embraced Llewellyn fully. He had enough presence of mind not to confess to anything, but he couldn't stop himself from murmuring how beautiful, how soft.

Gradually the world came back. Birdsong, first, and the bees, the sounds of the trees swaying in the light breeze. The lingering heat of the day, dampened by the shade and the growing dusk. The musty smell of pine needles and the sharper hint of sap, the scents of sex, the pressure of Llewellyn astride his lap, the bite of uneven ground against his knees. Llewellyn was touching his cheek, trying to say something sweet, failing because of his cold again.

"Ah- hh- Ttschgktst!"

Wetness against his neck. Gerrit wound his fingers with Llewellyn's and kissed his jaw. "Bless you," he said. "I'll find you a healer in Veigh. We'll get you well again. Right after we free you from the orb." He laid his cheek against the back of Llewellyn's hand tenderly. Then he paused. "Wait." Straightening, he brought his hands between them. The right was laced with Llewellyn's left. "The orb is gone."

Llewellyn straightened also, looking down at his hands. His hands with no orb. He lifted them both, amazed. And then wiped his nose on his wrist, sighing in pleasure. Gerrit tried not to blush despite everything.

"Where did it go?" he asked, looking past the elf's shoulder. "Why did it come off?"

"Who even cares at this point??" Llewellyn had let go of him and was stretching, running his palms over his body, touching his own arms and face and cock, finally able to move and feel again after three days of magical bondage. He wiggled his fingers and then clapped his palms together, raising a small flame with their parting. "I have my freedom back. I can cast spells again. I can-" He smiled brilliantly. "I can touch you, too." He dropped his hands suddenly to Gerrit's lap, nimbly taking Gerrit's cock between them.

Gerrit lost track of the orb immediately.

---

It was dark indeed when the two of them made it to the inn in Veigh, but both were in high spirits. Gerrit had relinquished handkerchief duty back to Llewellyn with a great internal mourning, but he could always fantasize about this again in the future (he did, frequently), and he knew that Llewellyn, despite his best efforts, would catch more colds on the road (he did, more frequently than he would like).

Remembrance and Cordes had only been able to secure one room, it seemed, with two beds. Gerrit resigned himself, going up the stairs, to sleeping on the floor. But... it was apparent upon entering the small space that... well, their priest and thief had ended up taking up only one of the beds, together. Gerrit and Llewellyn traded glances.

"I don't think I want to ask," said Llewellyn, going for the free bed.

"Sounds like a plan to me," Gerrit replied, joining him.

In the morning, Cordes, with great dignity sprung from embarrassment (the cause of which he did not volunteer) informed them that a letter had not been sent to the Mages Guild yet. He was immensely relieved to find that one was no longer needed and quick to congratulate Llewellyn on his newly regained freedom. Remembrance just chuckled from the bed and took her time buckling her armor back on.

Already in Veigh, the party spent some time stocking up on medicines and liquefying some of the heavier treasures they'd liberated from the bandit camp. Gerrit sent a message on to their patron to expect them back in the capital in a couple of weeks, barring disaster. They purchased horses and set out, ready for the next adventure.

---

The orb lay still in the pine thicket, nestled like an egg among the ferns, waiting for the next hapless traveler.

#lyk writes #snz #gerrit truestride #llewellyn mistwalker #gerwellyn

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jumoonjae · 4 years ago

Text

Kevin Moon

PAIRINGS: KEVIN MOON X READER

GENRE: ANGST

WORD COUNT: 2012 WORDS

WARNING: TERMINAL DISEASE, CHARACTER DEATH

Loosely inspired by Five Feet Apart& The Fault In Our Stars

Kevin Moon

The first time he heard his name came out from your lips was on the first night when he was admitted to the hospital after being diagnosed with heart valve disease, that he felt so ridiculous for suffering it at just the age of 22.

He feel dejected, his whole world came crushing down and all his dream shattered like a broken glass right in front of his eyes. For the first time he was lost, so lost that he couldn’t see anything aside from the newfound illness. So lost that his mind couldn’t think of anything, like it already give up on himself, his body, his future because he had no future. Well not anymore.

He told his nurse he wanted to stay at the garden but instead he went up to the rooftop just to try his luck for a place to be in peace, unbothered.

He was lucky that night.

But after a while, you came. He look back when he saw you in his peripheral view, rustling with your bag while looking at him with the biggest smile on your face that he ignored right away. You’re just a stranger anyway. Some stranger that he met during his stay at the hospital and strangers are temporary.

You have the name of my most favourite thing in this world.

You beamed walking to him, sitting down right next to him with a safe distance, but he ignored you still, looking ahead to the city lights pushing your voice away to the back of his mind. You’re kind of annoying, you talked too much for his liking and oddly cheerful for someone who wore hospital gown and had those breathing tube stuck on your nose with oxygen tank inside your bag.

But as time passed, he had grown used to your presence by his side at the rooftop every night. Looking at sky in silence.

Why are you here?

He asked one day after a full week not uttering a single word to you aside from telling you his name.

Oh, just because my lungs had no idea how to work properly. It keep malfunctioning and stuffs.

You shrugged like it was nothing to you while looking up to the stars and the full moon making his gut twisted in sympathy.

How long have you been here?

He asked again.

Three years and a half since the first diagnose.

He stayed silence because a ‘sorry' couldn’t fix any of it. He didn’t want to dig deeper because he’s afraid that his question could scare you off just like it did to him when people asked about his illness. He didn’t want to explain it to anyone anymore, he hate how serious his condition are when he said it out loud. But you never asked, maybe you understands how it feels. How he feels and he had found comfort in your presence since then.

I’m going to die you know.

He confessed one day, when his treatment doesn’t seems to fix what it supposed to. He had grown tired even if its just two week. But two week feels like forever to him. He missed his life outside the hospital, he missed his piano, he missed the feeling of playing again. He missed everything that the hospital couldn’t provide him.

He was expecting sympathy from you, or a ‘sorry’ but instead you just gave him a smile. A smile that he couldn’t decipher the meaning was. But your next words put a stop in his rustling mind that filled with worries, that could no longer see the future.

We are all dying Kevin Moon. That is not a new thing, but letting the fear of dying hinder you from living is a bad choice. What are the quote that said live like we’re dying are made for? And bla bla bla.

You chuckled, hugging your bag between your legs, looking up like you always do and he thought of nothing else but to think but how right you are.

We are special Kevin Moon you know that?

You look away from the moon to him with a smile, a smile of satisfaction, a smile full of proud.

Why?

Because god had given us advantage by telling us that we are dying soon. So all we gotta do is live fully at our last moment, stop taking advantage at anything or everything. Apologize to people who we had hurt and love while we can. We get a step ahead from everyone else by knowing how and when it will end so we can be prepare.

And that is the moment where he fall in love with you.

He look forward to see you every night at the rooftop, your word had given him strength to live every single day since that night. He started to fight again thanks to you and he even dare to dream again. You give him so much strength to fight that he finally feeling alive again.

He even started to open up to you, filling the once was silence with everything about him which you always listen to without interrupting.

He missed the session with you one night when he suffered a mild heart attack. But you came to his room on the next day, watching him from the outside through the square glass on the door. You were smiling at him showing your fist and mouthed ‘hwaiting’ before leaving without coming close to him.

Heart transplant.

It was a chance, a second chance for him. Even if it take forever for him to wait for a donor he would take it if its the only way he could be with you. Maybe to have a future with you.

He told you about the news without the mention of his plans about his future with you and you looked relieved. Your smile never seems to falter everytime he speaks about everything. Things between him and you had take a full turn where he talked a lot and you just listen to him in silence with a fond smile that really melts his heart.

You always came by during the day since his doctor had restricted his movement, you told him about the moon each time, never once you asked about his condition or how his illness are. You just listen. Listening and looking at him like he is your whole world. Hew saw that and he knew that look, but he keep it to him planning to confess to you only after he had his surgery.

A month had passed and he noticed your skin was getting paler and bone on your cheek seems more prominent each day.

Its just the medicine.

You shrugged him off when he asked, but your reason didn’t settled well in him. But he shrugged it off anyway.

We have a donor.

The words struck him like a rainbow with stars that lit his whole life in instant and the first thing he wanted to do is to share it with you. But you didn’t came that day, or the next day.

He waited for you to come before the surgery but you didn’t show up. He wanted to go to your ward room but his nurse told him to rest.

Few hours before the surgery another nurse came into his room handing him a piece of paper with a smile. A smile that didn’t seem to reach her eyes. She left before he could say anything.

Hwaiting Kevin Moon. Y/N ♥️

And that simple note from you washed away all of the worries he had for you. He fold the small paper and place it in one of the page of his sketchbook with a smile and let your image occupies his mind and thoughts.

He was out for a few days after the successful surgery. The sound of the machine inside the room stirred him from unconsciousness, as his eyes fluttered open, he saw you standing right next to his bed smiling down to him. You looked healthier, and your cheek that once pale looked like it had been kissed by the rose itself, you were shining so bright. You were beautiful, smiling like an angel. You caressed his forehead, stroking his hair back which he close his eyes to your gentle touch.

Live well Kevin Moon.

You said before taking your leave as he drift back to unconsciousness.

A lot of people came after the surgery. Congratulating him and all, some of his close friends and family, doctors and nurses, even the patient that he had made friend thanks to you.

But you weren’t there.

You didn’t come.

Kevin Moon,

The first time i saw you, you looked like an angel. I know I’m being exaggerated, but i swear, you shine brighter than the moon itself that night. You were cold to me and i am offended since that is my spot, but i let it slip because you’re the new kid.

He laughed at your word letting the scene settled inside his mind and a frown quick to take over, then his lips trembles at every words you had written.

You know how much I love the moon, but do you know why?

He smiled again, remembering how you used to describe the moon and the way you look up to it.

Because it bring peace to me in silence, it has the power to keep me sane, just like you did to me. I know its late but when I said i want to give my heart to you, i really mean it you know. I really like you Kevin Moon. I like you so much that for the first time I hope that i am not sick so i can be with you and plan our future just like healthy people did. For the first time i prayed so hard my lungs could be cured and for the first time i despised god for making me sick.

He shut his tightly that had been filled with his tears and let it fall down to his cheek.

But at least you have my heart now that it will put me to ease. And you have got your second chance now Kevin Moon, go live your life, go to Beyonce concert, let people listens to your music, paint everything that catches your eyes and love with all your hearts.

Our hearts.

Its our heart now Kevin Moon, it belongs to you forever at least. Its the piece of me that you can keep, its the piece of me that will always belongs to you. Live well Kevin Moon.

I love you.

Y/N.

He broke down at your last sentences, hunching his back burying his face on his palm with your letter still on his grip, crying out loud. How he had taken you for granted by not telling how much he like you too, no. How deep he had fallen in love with you. He thought that you were getting better, he thought you still have time.

Even how much you reminded him every single day to not take advantage on things, but he did it to you.

Live well Kevin Moon.

Your word keep repeating inside his head with the image of you. Only you. Your smile, giggles, laugh and all your bubbliness.

She told me a lot about you Kevin, thank you for making her feel how to fall in love.

He raise his head looking at your mother who was seated next to his bed. She smile fondly to him, caressing his shoulder which made him cry harder at her words.

How was her last moment?

He bravely asked in between his sniffles.

She was happy Kevin, knowing that she will give her heart to someone she knew could do so much greater things in the future. She was so brave, my child.

She force a smile, biting her own lips holding her tears.

And she told me to make you promise to take care of that heart. That big heart of her.

I promise.

A/N: Sorry i have been inactive lately, block sucks you know and i'm taking a break for a little while. But i'm still actively writing tho, experimenting with different kind of style, but i wont post everything until i feel like it. This one is one of my experiment. I hope it wreck your soul like it did to me. Thank you so much for taking your time to read this piece. It mean a lot to me. I love you.

#the boyz scenarios #the boyz #tbz scenarios #tbz #tbz au #tbz drabbles #tbz kevin #the boyz kevin #kevin moon #the boyz angst #tbz angst #angst #kevin moon scenarios

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