#anyway damn. can't believe going on one walk didn't cure me forever :\ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

maplecornia · 3 years ago

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chapter 15

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 2.04K

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: these next few chapters i really like, they're a LOT of connection time between tae and yen. plus idk why but since a majority of this chapter happens in the rain it just makes it ten times SPOICIER

They leave you behind.

As you watch them go, you can't help but be reminded of that which you have lost. The sight of their hand linked together shocks you with a pain deep in your heart. Ignoring the lump turning in your throat, you bat away your memories, and try to rise and wave goodbye.

Keyword….TRIED.

“Oh, no you don't,” Taehyung says as he pushes on your shoulders, sitting you back down.

You plump down on the wall, tilting your head up to glare at him. He meets it with a look of his own, before slowly bringing the ice up to his face, and grinning almost manically. You roll your eyes, leaning back, and he chuckles, positioning himself on the ground with the ice.

“So, what were you telling those kids anyway?”

You sigh, taking out your sketchbook once more as he tries his hardest to open the bag. You only need one pencil at the moment to finish the drawing, so as you bring it out, you smother your smile at his struggle, resisting the urge to mutter karma underneath your breath.

“Nothing much….just a story they asked me to tell.” You explain, not wanting to draw attention to your drawing or have him looking at it any closer than he has to. There’s something about him looking into it, about him seeing what you can see that scares you.

“Are you okay?” His voice breaks you out of your thoughts and you blink, looking up at him, and finding his eyes mere inches from yours. His hand rests on your knee as he pushes himself up to meet your gaze, his long dark eyelashes fluttering as he blinks. As you slowly nod, he pulls away, chuckling. “For a moment there, I thought I lost you. Where did you go?”

“Nowhere. I was just...spacing out I guess.” You say, shrugging it off, and resuming your preparation. You twirl your pencil in your hand, smirking as Tae finally opens the bag, the contents inside spraying out in an explosion. He lets out a surprised splutter, and you release a small laugh before turning away and starting your lazy task of filling in the last minute details of your work.

He brings some of the ice out of the massive bag and places it inside one of the many plastic Ziploc bags he had hidden in his backpack. Why he has Ziploc bags in there, you don't know, but who are you to judge when you have “emergency towels” in yours? Once he closes the bag, he turns to your foot, which you have delicately placed over your right leg to rest it. He reaches for it, but hesitates, looking up at you.

“Ummm...may I? That is to say, is it okay if I….ummm…” he asks a bit uncomfortably, and you raise your eyebrow at him over your sketchbook, smirking a bit just to tease him. He doesn't move, his hand held in an awkward hovering position over your foot, and you try to resist the urge to laugh at the uncomfortable look on his face.

“I suppose. That is if you don't mind the stink.” You remark, and he wrinkles his nose at you. You chuckle as he turns away, preparing to pull off your shoe.

He zips down your wedge and pulls it off of your foot, gently. Almost as if you were Cinderella. As he pulls off your shoe, setting it beside the rest of the ice, he makes a big show of how “stinky” it is, pinching his nose. You laugh, hitting him on his arm, and he laughs too, flinching away.

“I’m just joking! I'm just joking!!!” he cries, laughing before you end your attacks, giving him the stink eye. It's pretty futile, considering you can't stop the grin from spreading on your face.

As he works, examining your leg, his hands explore the space between your calf and your foot. With a soft touch, they tenderly search for any sign of swelling, anything that might indicate a trip to a hospital, or something worse than a mere bruise.

As they touch the space between your tights and your foot, where the material breaks and his soft fingers brush over your bare skin, a shudder passes through you. Your heart accelerates, and you can feel it as your face flushes beet red. Immediately, you hide behind your sketchbook, clenching your eyes tightly shut. You try to tell yourself to ignore it, that they are just fingers, just the touch of someone who's trying to help you out.

However, the fact that they are his fingers, the fact that it is his touch, refuses to be ignored. Finding your breath has come short, you glance at him, hoping that he hasn't noticed. Thankfully, at the moment, he is too distracted by his inspection.

Eyebrows furrowing in concentration, he decides to pull off your sock to get a better look, this time not even asking your permission. As he does, you hiss in pain, his fingers passing over a tender spot on your ankle. He immediately stops moving his hands, flinching off you as he looks up.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks softly and you shake your head, pulling back a bit and swallowing hard. Now you're worried, you didn't think it would be this bad.

“Can I…?” he inquires, gesturing back to your leg, where his hand rests carefully underneath your ankle. You nod mutely, swallowing hard, as you set your drawing aside and position yourself securely on the bench. You brace yourself for the next time he touches you, pulling the sock completely off and setting it inside your wedge beside him.

This time when you feel the sting of pain, you merely wince, sucking in a small intake of breath. He looks up at you, as though asking if you're okay, and you shake him away. He nods before inspecting your ankle. As he angles your foot to the side, your eyes widen at the sight of your ankle.

Curse that damn suitcase.

When you fell, you felt your ankle twist beneath you because of the suitcase behind you, but you didn't imagine it would have this much of an impact.

The entirety of your outside ankle is discolored, a mixture of blues, purples, and dark greens to show you that it is a bruise. It's begun to swell, turning into an ugly injury, one that you can't possibly walk on. When you tried to walk earlier, you only made it worse, making it swell and discolor; hardly giving it any time to heal. Your tight shoe put only more pressure on it, which didn't help matters.

“Taehyung….”

“I told you.” His voice is soft, but you can hear the frustration behind it. The anger which makes his words sting, which makes you wince. As he looks up at you, you can see the irritation clear on his face. Accusing you, forcing you to admit that you were wrong.

“Why didn't you listen to me? Now….” he breaks off, shaking his head as he swallows hard and picks up the Ziploc bag of ice. You stay silent, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to apologize for your pride.

Taehyung carefully wraps your leg in the ice, bringing out the athletic tape he keeps in his backpack. Truth be told, he had almost forgotten that he had it with him. He silently thanks Jungkook for convincing him to carry athletic tape with him. Who knew that he would have to use it to treat an injury that a stupid girl refused to treat herself?

Watching you do this to yourself...

It's almost as though he were watching Jungkook tire himself out to reach perfection.

As though he were watching Jimin starve himself, or work himself to exhaustion because he never believes himself to be enough.

As though he were witnessing JHope sacrifice his happiness just so that everyone else can be happy.

As though he were watching Namjoon and Suga work so tirelessly to produce their music, just to make it as perfect as they believe it should be. Sometimes sleeping at the studio, or staying awake through the night.

It’s even worse when he sees Jin in you.

When he sees how you give everything up. How you give yourself up just because you’re trying to hold everyone else together. Just because you’re trying to hold yourself together. Just so that you won’t break. You feel as though your pain is nothing, as though you are nothing compared to everyone else and that to fix yourself, you have to save others.

Tae sees that in Jin every day.

All because he wants their happiness over his.

Tae hates that.

It's almost as if, watching you, he were watching his friends waste away just so that they can succeed in a life that won't last forever.

It angers him, that he can't protect them from a pain that isn't so easily cured.

Now...he's feeling the same anger towards you.

You regard Taehyung with wary eyes, watch as he secures the Ziploc bag around your ankle with athletic tape. Something he had randomly in the simple black backpack which rests on his shoulders. He has to make at least two more bags of ice before your entire ankle is covered, the ice offering a sweet relief from the pain you were experiencing before.

You have to refrain from letting out a deep sigh of relief as it immediately begins to erase the pain, but you manage, biting your bottom lip softly. He nods in satisfaction as he finishes, letting your leg rest gently back on the ground. As he finishes, his eyes rise to yours.

“I'm sorry.” You whisper, and he looks away, as though reminded of why he was mad at you. His hands release your leg and he gathers all the materials he used to help you out, starting to put them away. You continue, trying to explain yourself, as though that will somehow make things better. “I guess I didn't want to trouble you, I didn't mean--”

“Why?” His question is soft, but immediately cuts you off.

“What do you mean?” you ask him, as he puts away his supplies and scoffs.

“Why was it such a problem?” he asks as he raises his eyes to yours. Despite the hat, you can see how his eyes pierce into yours. How they tear down every wall you have ever built and shock you deep into your core. When you don't answer him, he continues, tying the large bag of ice once more, and leaning it against the park bench.

“Why did it matter if I wanted to help you? It was my choice, my issue. So why did you try so hard to walk away?” as he picks up your shoe and offers it to you, he rises as well, holding it to you. Slowly, you take it, placing it on top of your satchel. There’s no way you're going to fit that around your ankle now.

You sigh before answering, almost unsure of what to say.

How to answer.

You’ve always been like this. Never accepting help, wanting to do things on your own….it's just how you are. It wouldn't change just because you meet someone slightly more famous than everyone else out there, that's just not how it works.

At least, not for you.

“I didn't feel like I should burden you.” You murmur.

As you say the words, he can't help but stare at you, all of his frustration fading away. He can't help but feel surprised at the answer.

“You're not a burden,” he says softly, drawing your eyes to meet him. He smiles kindly at you. “I wasn't obligated to help you, I wanted to. So don't worry, you aren't a burden.”

Lost in the moment, neither one of you looks away.

So lost in him, you almost don't hear the thunder before the first lightning bolt strikes the sky.

You both break away at the sound, staring up at the sky.

The rain starts as a mere trickle of sprinkles but soon grows into a roar of harsh, pounding droplets of tears from the sky within a few seconds. You flinch away from it, immediately dropping your head and shielding your eyes from the rain. Taehyung does the same, flipping up his hoodie over his hat, as though he needed more protection.

People are running from the rain, heading for cover. There are shrieks everywhere as the downpour begins, and surprised bystanders try their best to hide from it.

You take it all in with wide, dazed eyes, but honestly, you can’t feel anything.

Maybe you should be panicking, maybe you should start moving, trying to find some kind of shelter, but you just sit there. Your eyes glazing over, the rain around you reflecting your hopelessness, your despair, your pain. It all combines into a cold numbing feeling that resounds through your body, makes you go still, makes you retreat into the flaming chaos of your mind.

Taehyung starts saying something as he turns from you, surveying the rest of the crowd.

You try to hear him, you do, but as your eyes wander over to the bench beside you, they are lost, in the roar that starts to grow in your ears. Your heart immediately drops to your stomach in disappointment and panic, as you see it.

Your sketchbook, open and bare, on the bench next to you.

It lies there, vulnerable, as the raindrops desperately soak up the page.

Frantically, you snatch your sketchbook off from the bench beside you.

Biting your bottom lip, you hide it in your massive coat which still hangs around your shoulders, trying your hardest to dry it off in frantic fear. You try to ignore the lump turning in your throat, try to ignore the burning behind your eyes.

Was it all for nothing?

You swallow hard, holding your sketchbook safe to your chest, your coat protecting you so far from the rain which has fallen. You would have stayed there through the whole storm, wallowing in self-pity, if not for Taehyung.

As the rain pelts down, the storm growing fiercer by the minute, he literally has to take you by the arm, and shake you before you awake and finally register what he's saying.

“Did you hear me?!” he shouts, his hand tight and cold around yours. It's drenched, and his hat is dripping as he leans in front of you, shouting words you barely register. It's only then that you hear the deafening roar of the storm, the faint screams, and shrieks around you, and his panicked voice. It’s only then that you feel the cold, the water running off of your body, the shivers coursing throughout. It’s only then that you awake from the thoughts consuming your mind.

Looking up at him, you allow yourself to be a bit amazed.

He woke you up.

“Come on! We have to go!” He shouts as he tries to pull you up. His slick grip tightens around your hand, as his urgency grows. Pulling on your arm, he tries to drag you along with him as he walks away, but you stop him.

You tug back, your hand slipping out of his. Pausing, he turns to you, confused. Raising your eyebrow, you mutely gesture down to your ankle, at the melting ice pack and makeshift compress he made for you.

His eyes darken with understanding as he moves back beside you.

Placing your arms around yourself and holding yourself in a tight embrace, you shiver in silence. You have gotten used to the rhythm of the droplets which fall on your head, drenching you from head to toe, and plastering your hair to your face and the back of your neck. They uncomfortably roll down your skin leaving behind small paths of rivers on your skin as though branding you with its mark.

You carefully slide your sketchbook into your satchel, closing it up tightly along with the rest of your art supplies. You stare at it, swallowing hard as you try to ignore the tears which threaten to spill on your already wet face. The trees' dense leaves have succumbed to the weight of the rain, and no longer offer much shelter for you, but as of this moment, you could care less. Smiling slightly, you bow your head, already resigned to waiting here through the rain.

As you clutch your coat tighter around your body, it takes you a moment, but soon you realize that the steady drum of the rain is no longer playing on your head.

Confused, you lift your bowed head and find Taehyung before you.

He stares down at you, those hazelnut eyes regarding you with guarded pain. Inches away from you, his hands are extended so that they rest on the tree trunk directly behind you. You share the same breath, the same heat, the same protection. He has provided a haven, a place where you can be safe from the storm around the two of you.

You meet his steady gaze with one of your own, a bit surprised.

“We have to go.” He whispers, his lips looking more glossy than ever amidst the humidity and the rain dripping off of his face. You swallow hard, forcing your eyes away from them and meeting his eyes, desperately trying to ignore how the rainwater has made his face shine in a very distracting way.

“I know that you can't exactly walk right now, but I’ll carry you.” He offers, pushing himself off of the tree trunk, and holding his hand out to you. You don't take his hand right away, regarding him with wary eyes. Tae grows impatient and bites his bottom lip with anticipation as the wind starts to blow harder, the storm growing worse by the minute.

“What are you waiting for?!” he shouts over the deafening gusts.

You hope your hesitation isn't too obvious, but Taehyung notices.

Of course, he notices.

If Jungkook were here, would things be different? Would you trust him to take you to safety?

He’s always felt as though he weren't good enough. Not for ARMY, not for his hyungs, not for his family, and now…

Not for you.

“What about your backpack?!” You call out to him from your perch on the bench, trying to distract from the real reason and bring up a new problem. A bit confused, he looks at his back as though he had forgotten it was there. He ponders the question for a moment before shrugging it off his shoulders and holding it out to you.

“You could carry it instead!” He responds, and you slowly take it, securing it around your shoulders. When you're finished, he looks at you expectantly. “Are you ready?!”

“Are you sure?! Wouldn't it be better to wait for the bus to come back?!” You cry out over the start of the storm. Taehyung, drenched already from standing in the rain for too long, rolls his eyes almost before taking you forcibly by the hands and lifting you off the bench.

Not expecting the action, you jump to your feet. Your foot failing you once again, you fall into his waiting arms, your hands resting securely on his chest. Shaking your head slightly, you raise your eyes to his and falter. The fact that he’s so close to you, that he’s holding you, causes your heart to soar with unimaginable emotion so much so that it's near impossible to pull away. His arms are secure around your waist, hands pressing against your back as you lean on him.

His eyes stare profusely into your own as you gaze at him, searching his deep pools of color. You're able to see the tiny raindrops which have caught onto his thick eyelashes, the smooth angle of his cheekbone, the defined muscle of his jawline.

You're lucky your hands are clinging to his chest because if they weren't, you might've gotten too close for comfort.

On the other hand...perhaps you're already too close.

You avoid his eyes, biting your lip furiously, as you command yourself to hold back. Now is not the time or place for your imagination to run wild.

His hands respond to your touch, wrapping themselves around yours as though instructing you to keep them securely on his chest. As though refusing to let you fall.

Breathing heavily, you look up at him at the touch, your wide, hesitant eyes searching his.

“Trust me.” He says, close enough now that he doesn't have to shout, recreating a space for the two of you to exist in. “I promise you won't fall, so trust me, please.”

When he looks at you that way, beautiful hazelnut eyes staring deep into your soul, it's hard for you to say no. You nod, mutely, and he smiles. After a moment, he slowly releases his hold on your waist, wrapping his hand around yours and directing it to rest on his back as he kneels on the wet, dirty concrete sidewalk, his back broadening as his muscles stretch to fit the position. Gathering your emotions, you hesitate, wondering if this is a wise idea, but Taehyung cuts through your thoughts.

“Just hop on! Act like it's a piggyback ride!” he instructs from the ground, causing you to smirk before you raise your coat over your head and prepare to climb on.

“Isn't that exactly what it is?!” you bring to his attention.

He smirks, unable to prevent the soft laugh from escaping his body. Letting out a soft sigh, you prepare to board him, as though he were a train, analyzing the best way to get on. You secure your injured foot first, and he wraps his firm arm around it, making sure that it's safe from the rain. Your other foot comes next, and you wrap it carefully around his waist, in the little bent position like most piggyback rides. With the other leg, you pull your entire body weight on him, wrapping your hands around his chest, right where his collarbone meets his pectorals.

As your entire body rests on him now, he is acutely aware of it. He tries his hardest not to blush, reminding himself that this was his idea, that he was the one who pushed for this. He tries to ignore the fact that when your hand accidentally slides up a bit and grazes his throat, he can't help the shudder that passes through his body as he immediately looks to the floor. He swallows hard, his eyes burning a hole in the ground as you pull your coat over the both of you, offering a sort of canopy or umbrella against the rain.

Once you've finished, you position yourself so that you're secure on his back, your face resting in the crook between his neck and shoulder. An action which he certainly feels as his heart seems to drop to the bottom of his chest at a million miles an hour. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself before turning to face you as best as he can. You pull back your face a bit as well so that you can get a clearer view.

“You ready?” he asks you, half teasing, an inquiry which makes you smile.

“Are you?” you ask in turn, and he looks away, laughing a bit before rising to his feet with surprising swiftness. You almost fall with how fast he stands, and you have to scramble to secure your hold around his neck. He laughs hysterically at your reaction, and you have to fight to keep your smile at bay before you smack him on his shoulder. You can feel him laugh beneath you. It's a warm sound, something that resounds throughout his entire body.

“Don't do that!” You demand, pouting almost before his laughter subsides. He glances at you once more over his shoulder, smirking at your pouty expression.

“I thought you said you were ready.” He challenges, raising his eyebrow, and you roll your eyes at him, lifting your head off of his shoulder.

“Correction. I said, ‘are you?’ Technically I never answered your question.” You retort and he chuckles, nodding as he turns his head to the road before the both of you.

“Is that so?” he asks and you nod. Finding it more comfortable to rest your head on his shoulder, you lean forward, your hands sliding down his chest with the movement. He falters at the touch and tries to drown out the incessant pounding of his heart with his voice. A futile effort, but an understandable one.

“Well, now's the time. Here, I'll ask again.” You roll your eyes at his condescending tone.

“Are you ready now?”

You wait a bit before answering his question, if only just to get on his nerves a bit. Overdramatically, you raise your hand to your chin, pondering the question and making a sort of humming sound as though you're thinking hard about it. He notices the sarcastic notion and scoffs. You pause for too long, however, and he grows tired of waiting.

After a moment, he raises his eyes to the warm canopy of your coat that you have offered, and pretends to drop you once more. Leaving you to cling to his neck frantically and him dying in a fit of laughter. You hit his head in retaliation this time, and he ducks, unable to stop his laughter. You can't help but laugh as well. When you gain your composure, you raise yourself a bit, by placing your hands on his slick head and pointing forward.

“Onward!” you cry. Taehyung chuckles to himself from underneath you, trying his hardest to gain his composure but failing miserably. “Go to Narnia!”

When you tap his head slightly as though they were the reins of a horse, his laughter fades and he smirks at you over his shoulder. At that look, you automatically wish you hadn’t said anything at all.

“Oh no.” You groan before he turns back to the road, and breaks off into a run down the street. You let out a startled laugh, barely managing to secure your hold around his neck before he’s speeding off into the distance. As he runs, you cling onto him for dear life, smiling with content as you rest against the crook between his neck and his shoulder.

A small space, yet you fit perfectly.

As though it were made just for you.

You hold tighter to him, and close your eyes, trying to convince yourself that this isn't a dream; that this is all real. That you are this close to Taehyung and it's not just something you made up in your mind.

You try so very hard, but when you open your eyes when you see his grin…

You are shocked all over again.

Once more, you find it hard to believe.

In an impossible situation, is it okay to believe that it's not all in your head?

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: so when i was reviewing them, i was like omg, i did NOT realize how many intimate scenes i put in there so ;-;

chapter 16 here

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thatnerdwolfnell · 4 years ago

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I'm calling the apprentice here MJ which stands for Main Jcharacter. I wanted to give them something of a proper name and my autocorrect hates MC anyway. They aren't my apprentice they're just supposed to be a generic MC for people to insert their apprentice in for. They are entirely androgynous and completely non descript. I just got sick of typing MC and I refuse to put y/n into shit I write because it looks stupid and keeps fucking with my dyslexic ass.

**trigger warning: suicide**

Lies

For @wilddarkchocolate

Asra was different before he left. Nobody acts like themselves these days. Well, that's not really true. I just didn't know them well enough, I guess. Asra's a caring person, I know he is, he can just act so damn heartless sometimes. When the plague hit everything light and airy about just became streamlined and sharp, calculated. It triggered the part of him that was still living on the streets, that taught him to prioritize. to be kind and generous and give everything you have everytime you can but be ready to cut your losses, and grab what you can and get the hell out. When things go to shit he picks his battles, prioritizes his objectives, protects what he can and damn the rest if he can get his people out alive. I didn't think he'd leave me too though. There's nothing more important to him than the people he cares about. I thought there was nobody on earth more loyal than Asra, that there was no bridge he wouldn't cross and we'd fight everything together. Die together if we had to. Apparently I was wrong. I guess it was selfish to assume that of someone.

"This thing destroyed several villages in the south, we saw it leave Nopal in shambles, and now it's happening here!" He had said. "Remember when we saw them hauling cartfulls of bodies away in Nopal? People rotting away in the streets? In their homes? Remember when I said if that happens here we're getting out? It's been happening here for weeks now! We've done what we can but there's nothing we can do!"

I sighed. "Just stay a little longer, Julian's close to finding a cure and—"

"NO HE'S NOT!" he shouted. "HES COMPLETELY LOST! HE HAS NO IDEA WHAT HE'S DEALING WITH!"

He flung a jar of sage off the counter letting it shatter on the ground like he was brushing away a mosquito. Like he didn't care.

"ASRA!" He just shook his head and leaned against the wall. Resigned. His face was red. He was crying. "What the hell are you talking about? You've been working on this for months you know that's not true!"

"No. I haven't. Because I can't. All I know is that it's something of magical origin and that it's way out my league. It's more powerful than anything I've ever seen in my life –or even heard of, and Julian's barking up the completely wrong tree."

I had known it had some kind of dark magic attached to it, but so does death. So does lots of things. With the amount of tragedy this plague had caused it wasn't shocking that it had a dark energy around it. But what Asra had said...

"What is it like a curse or something?"

He shook his head again. "No. I don't know. When I was little my parents used to talk about God." He wouldn't look at me. "Then they disappeared. And on the docks... I don't know, I stopped taking it seriously." He shuddered "But this? If it's not the wrath of God I don't what else it could be. It's like somebody knocked a cosmic balance into shit and now its just... spilling."

My hands grew cold. "Is there any way we can balance it?"

He scoffed "Not unless you're a fucking arcana. Or ten."

"Why didn't you say any of this before?"

He slumped down against the wall and sighed. "Well what good would it have done, MJ? I can't just tell them 'hey nobody can do anything to save your children have fun dying!' now can I?"

"You could have at least told Julian! He's been killing himself trying to find a cure! He'll blame himself for-"

"He'd blame himself for the damn RAIN if he could, MJ. I already told him and he said all that meant was there no magical cure, but SCIENCE still had the answer."

I paused. "He's crazy."

Asra wiped his face on his sleeve. "I know." He stood up pulling his bag back over his shoulder. "That's why we need to leave. Now."

"Asra..."

That was all I said. Just his name. How could go with him when people were dying? For all he knew Julian could be right. And there was still something I wanted... I NEEDED to do. I just didn't have the heart to tell him.

That was almost a year ago. We fought more of course, but we didn't really say anything after that. If I'm honest I don't even remember. Just the anger and the magic sparking from the raw emotion in the room.

I am so fucking sick of this dungeon.

Julian's already here of course. I doubt he even left, I don't think he ever does. He's muttering, reading some paper he wrote.

"Samples?" I say as I pass his desk.

He shakes his head. Which means I need to collect them myself. That's not really an inconvenience, especially since I'm going down to the cells anyway.

I haven't felt anything in months, but when I see those people in cages like animals slamming their faces against the bars shrieking at their hallucinations I can at least remember one part of me that's still human. The part that knows that this is fundamentally wrong. And I thought maybe it could be worth it if we found a cure, but now... Now there's nothing left to justify this.

Believe it or not, these are vesuvia's richest, the "lucky" ones if you will. The ones who's families could afford access to "experimental treatments" rather than simply dying surrounded by living corpses in the lazaret. I know I'm going to die here. It's only a matter of time before I catch it and maybe if I can do this, my life will have been worth something. Today's the day I get the plague. I should feel something about that. I don't. Like I said, I haven't felt anything in a long time. Still it took forever to get the guts to do this though.

I take the syringe and walk up to the first cell. I barely even hear the screaming.

"Hi, Miss Walker?" The woman in the cell freezes. Guilt twinges in my gut. It's been a while since anybody has used her name –or even addressed her directly. I actually had to look up her name in the file just now. "I have to take a blood sample, is that okay?" It doesn't actually matter if it's okay or not I have to take it anyway.

"NOOOO!" she wails. "ALEX YOUR FACE! YOUR FACE THEY'RE ON YOUR FACE!" Her cries fade into fitful muttering that I can't make out.

"Okay ma'am, I'm coming in now."

She's huddled in a ball in the back corner of her cell. I grab her arm in the standard method that keeps her from moving away, but she doesn't even react. Which means she'll probably be dead by tonight. I tuck the sample vial in my bag and take off my mask. This part is not standard procedure.

"Hey, you're okay." I try to use the most soothing voice I can. I'm definitely not the ideal choice for comforting people, but nobody else will do it, and I can't watch another person die like this. Scared and alone. I pull off my gloves and gently rub her back. She flinches. Maybe this was a bad idea but it's definitely too late to go back. I'm probably already infected. "You're okay. Where does it hurt?"

"My Alex!" Her hand swats weakly at my face. It was probably supposed to be a loving gesture if she still had her strength.

"Sure. Fine. It's me, Alex" I have no clue who Alex is, I'm just trying to make dying a little nicer.

"You're all grown up, why are you grown? They were eating your face..." She breaks down into sobs.

"Hey, hey don't cry it's okay. Alex is fine, I'm fine." She throws herself into my arms sobbing and blubbering. I pull her close into a hug and I feel her start to calm down. "Yeah I'm fine, we're all fine. it's okay."

"I-I love you –I miss you so much i-" she shudders.

I hesitate. This is what I came here for. There's not much left of her and she needs comfort. "Um...I love you too... Here." I do a quick spell that should take away her pain for a while. She sighs and closes her eyes. "Alright

You get some rest now okay?" She doesn't respond she's already asleep.

I continue down the row of cells in much the same way. Blood sample. Mask off. Lie. "You're okay", "See? No more pain.", "I love you."

I drop off the samples before heading over to the lazaret to do the same there. I'm probably just being selfish. Just trying to feel like a good person. Like this MEANS anything. Maybe staying here at all was selfish. Maybe Asra was right and this was all a naive ego trip to make me feel better about myself. Maybe this is the only way I can justify killing myself. Or the only way I have the courage to do It. I'm being selfish.

I feel nausea twist in my gut as I land at the lazaret.

Looks like I'm not leaving.

It's for the best.

"Hi, I'm MJ.", "Its alright, you're okay.", "You want to see something cool?" "Go to sleep now." "I love you." "Yes your mommy is right here." , "I won't leave you.", "You're not going to die.", "You're safe.", "I love you."

The last thing I remember is a toddler, or maybe a corpse curled up in my lap. Humming softly. I'm holding a tiny hand. I don't quite have the strength to do the spell that will make it hurt less. Not that I deserve it. God it hurts. Where's Asra? What happened to him? The small hand drops. And everything fades to red.

#the arcana mc #fic requests #angst #the acrana #the arcane game #arcana game #the arcana #arcana #the arcana asra #asra the arcana #sad #yeah idk

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