#but he won't tell them and they don't know how to close this chasm that's opened between spi and them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wintersandthebeast · 2 years ago

Text

15. Realignment

RE8 | Wintersberg | Romance, Slow Burn | Action, Sci-Fi

Link to Master List

When Karl rounded on Ethan, the blond expected the engineer to look like a tired, worn-out drowned rat, considering his recent experience. But Karl looked just as alive and energetic as ever. Baffling. Ethan made a disgusted noise when Karl nodded, “Go back to the other place. The uh…not wherever the fuck you just took us.”

“I’m half-worried I’ll…” Ethan looked around. “I don’t know how I did that.”

Karl gestured to him and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You got this.”

This touched Ethan; Karl still had such faith in him even though a moment ago he was screaming in pain for his life. And Ethan wanted to ask what had happened, as soon as he made sure that they hadn’t given Miranda some pathway to Rosemary.

He closed his eyes, silently enunciating every sound. L I M I N A L. Space.

When he opened them, they were still in the chasm, but with the strange glitch-like halo around everything as before. Ethan's shoulders dropped in relief. The red light from the scar below shone up onto Karl’s face, contorting it into something more dangerous and sinister looking. He’d take an evil-looking, red-hued Heisenberg over the village any day. Rain fell steadily on the pair.

"So who do you know who can--" he began, but he had an inkling of who Karl meant. Before he could even finish his sentence, she appeared across from the pair of them, glancing over Karl's hand on Ethan's shoulder. She looked as she had during the impromptu heart-growing session, dressed in black. All traces of Ethan's blood on her were gone.

"Rosemary is safely sleeping," the blond girl began in her light, airy voice, and Ethan nodded, but he paused and his expression of relief morphed into a glare. No, he wouldn't feel relief right now. She continued to speak, but he barely heard her. "I believe here, your powers are more chaotic, since the center of the consciousness is...haywire. I also believe you have more power now that your heart is back. But you left no open path when you--"

He blurted, "Who the hell are you?"

A friend, it automatically appeared in his mind. Ethan shook his head. "No, fuck that, I need to know who you are. You were wearing Miranda's mask when you grabbed us!"

Karl, for his part, looked bemused. "You haven't told him?"

Lightning flashed over them. The rain was still pattering all around.

The blond pursed her lips and tilted her head at Karl. Her blond hair spilled over her shoulders. "Are you really lecturing me on what one should be telling Ethan?"

Karl scoffed at this, and Ethan raised his eyebrow. Just what the fuck did that mean? He could feel her influencing his mind still, and he snapped, "I don't know what the fuck you're doing trying to pacify me like this, but it won't work." He pointed a finger at her accusatorily. "You were wearing Miranda's mask, and you...when she was in the field, she looked just like you. So who the hell are you?"

Heisenberg stared at Ethan hopefully. The blond ignored this.

The girl dragged a toe across the ground, looking something between sad and worried. "Do you really not know?"

Ethan stared numbly, and threw his hands out in an almost Heisenberg-esque gesture. He didn't fucking have time for riddles.

She made a face. "And I didn't have her mask. She took that design from me. Long ago I had to make disguises so she wouldn't see me. Before I learned more. When she did see me, she thought she was seeing herself, I suppose. So she had the masks fashioned after it."

This was unexpected. Ethan stared a few more moments, before Karl rubbed his temple tiredly, and then suddenly the man's eyes widened. "You're...her daughter."

Now her mouth twisted into an almost grimace. Ethan felt a flood of relief and fear at the same time. Before he could interrogate her further, Eva reassured him, "I am a friend, Ethan. I have purposely stopped my mother at every turn from the things she has tried to do. To bring me back to her. She does not know."

"You didn't stop her and the rest of these freaks from killing a whole fucking village, from making monsters!" Karl drew back at this, but remained quiet. Eva nodded, as though she'd considered this many times.

"I could have entered your world to stop her," Eva began in a gentle voice, "By inhabiting an unwilling vessel. By taking someone else's life. I had no wish to do that."

"Rose," he remembered, and now Ethan grew quiet. Even though he was still angry, he could feel his own instincts telling him what they'd told him earlier, about Maricara. About the Duke, even. They could be trusted. He cut his eyes toward Heisenberg. As much as he hated to admit it...

"I don't know how long I'm gonna last here," Karl said nonchalantly, nodding toward the pile of debris behind them, that stuck eerily in the air. "So uh...if we can have this conference, maybe later--"

"I can help," Eva said simply. "I cannot be an anchor to your world, but I can add my power to Ethan's." She stepped behind Ethan as the engineer turned. Now Ethan grasped the other's coat, moving to stand slightly behind him as the large hammer came up in his arms, the now-familiar resonance sounding as the field generated.

Eva's thin hand slipped into Ethan's other, and grasped it, almost in an apology.

"Ethan," she said hesitantly. He turned to look at her. "I am not my mother."

"I know," he said simply, and squeezed her hand. "I...appreciate the help."

It didn't sound like him, to give up so easily on questions, but they had bigger problems. And he truly did trust her, even if she hadn't been open on her identity. She was just another victim of that psychopath. Ethan felt the strength emanating from her to him, and from him to Karl, who now raised the hammer even higher. As if to offer its support, the rain increased as well, from a sprinkle to a dramatically more intense downfall. Ethan shivered.

Then his gaze was seared by red light as he stared into the scar. The mycelia began to writhe at Karl's stirring, and the metal objects in the frozen scene slowly began to turn. It reminded Ethan of a large motor. But the sensations, the power he could feel now emanating from Karl was otherworldly almost. It was more than the tornado-Karl he'd fought. The man's powers were palpable, terrifying. Ethan could feel a strange, deep stirring in his bones. Deeper. His atoms. Karl commanded elements of reality here--he felt like Life and Death. It was invigorating, and Ethan felt as though he could become drunk from it. Nothing but second-hand power. Any other time, Ethan would have been ashamed of this. But he couldn't give a damn right now.

The forcefield the engineer was creating seemed to cause the canyon to shake as more and more debris began to move. Ethan realized it wasn't just the metal being magnetized. All of the scar was responding to this realignment. Karl's powers were amplified here. The fabric of this reality depended on the hysteresis correction to continue. To be...uncorrupted. Whatever that meant.

And the Mold? He didn't dare close his eyes, for fear of taking them all back to Miranda, but he still focused on the large, writhing trees of roots that wound down and around them, fluttering in the electrical chaos of Heisenberg's funnel cloud. Now lightning began jumping from item to item, and the ground shook. The Mold was...curious? Frightened? He couldn't pinpoint an exact feeling, because he could feel all feelings.

Eva spoke from his side, her voice almost lost in the wind and rain. "Can you hear them. Those souls in the mold."

Is that what they were? His hair whipped around his face and Ethan squinted. Karl's hat tipped backward from his head, the string catching at his neck. Now his hair and his coat whipped around his hulking form as he ignored the sheets of rain and focused on the field's direction.

"Lots of fear," Ethan quipped, closing his mouth as more debris, including all of the dust and dirt, began to rise. He could hear screams now. It stank. Rotting flesh, metallic fluid, sulfur, and something more. He didn't know if Karl heard either of them, as the bearded man chose to instead yell into the wind, waving his arms like a musical conductor, corkscrewing the items higher and higher from their stuck place.

Ethan craned his neck to look up, immediately getting pelted with rain. It really was like a huge tornado. How was Heisenberg magnetizing these things? Was the mold ferrous in some way? As the cylinder reached an incredible speed, Heisenberg thrust the hammer into his left hand, pointing away from the spin. This caused the hammer to almost sing, the gears spinning furiously. Ethan stared at it; the core was red hot and sparks flew from the tool. He was still clutching Karl's back and now he adjusted his grip, admiring the man. He'd seen his displays of power before, but nothing like this. He truly looked like some sort of god, commanding the pile of death to move.

Ethan stared as more and more buried debris rose up. He could see them now. The bodies. There were so many, and they flew limply among the wood, glass, vehicles, trees, and as Karl lifted everything even higher, a black sludge was swept into the macabre twister, making a disgustingly wet sound as it was blended into the mass.

Karl flinging the hammer had caused the corkscrew motion to slow, and Ethan realized he was reversing the direction of the field. The hammer did sing now, a strangely loud, yet beautiful note. The tone seemed to call through the whole canyon as everything slowed. Eva was pointing to the black sludge that now crawled higher and higher. "What is that?"

"Rotting mold?" Ethan guessed as the wind began to pick up speed in its new direction. Karl was cursing to himself, and Ethan listened in case the man was giving instructions. Nope, just telling the tornado to 'come on, you big fucking bitch pile full of shit.' Fair enough.

The stench was worse while they waited for the field to pick up speed. Ethan could now sense something else. From the mold. Or the consciousnesses? Somewhere, he felt a sense of relief. When the sickly, tar-like substance lifted and took its spot in the spinning soup of death, it was like a deep inhale was felt from somewhere within his own body. He could breathe better. Not him. But something? Someone? Somewhere, felt better. No, it was him, he realized. How?

"Ethan, look!" Eva exclaimed, and her other hand pointed down into the dark crevice Heisenberg had pulled the world up from.

The red light's source was revealed. A grotesque form lay in the blackened rock, now writhing. Beating. It looked half heart, half fetus. Ethan's lip curled. Did he really have to be made out of something so disgusting? His eyes met Eva's. Her hair was mostly covering her face. The megamycete was regrown. It was smaller, but no less grotesque.

"It's very wounded," she called over the now absolutely howling wind, and Ethan nodded. "But now it's... healing."

"Great," Ethan said sarcastically, and as he craned his head to look above them again, trying not to inhale and taste the stench of death, Karl let out another roar and the field dropped suddenly. Lightning snaked down through the tornado, one last equalizing explosion, and the hammer-wielding man moved in front of Ethan and Eva to shield them from the electricity. He absorbed it all, sliding backwards several feet, Ethan stumbling and running backward to stay connected, a death grip on his arm. His other arm yanked Eva, who flew back as well. The sound of thunder was followed by the loud crashing sounds of everything Karl had let go. The debris began falling to the ground, raining sickeningly. A rumble deeper below the earth was heard.

"Time to go," Heisenberg yelled simply, and spun. Eva nodded, and then disappeared, only to reappear far over their heads on a smaller ledge.

"What is that?" she asked as the rumble sounded again.

Karl had already begun magnetizing objects toward his feet, stepping up away from the petrified mold.

"Don't know," he called. The rumble sounded again, louder.

"Heisenberg!" Ethan called shrilly, Karl now stepping so high that the blond's feet were threatening to leave the ground.

Karl draped his arm around Ethan's waist. He gestured with the hammer in the rain storm, up toward Eva, as he laboriously lifted Ethan onto the steps he'd created.

"Why can't you do THAT?"

"I don't fucking know, you asshole, get me the fuck out of here," Ethan snarled, and dug his nails into Heisenberg's arm and chest. Karl snapped his head to look at Ethan and he realized the other man was...conductive? He had a silvery sheen to his skin, his eyes were the same color as the lightning he'd absorbed. Heisenberg bared his teeth and growled in a metallic-sounding voice, "I wouldn't do that."

He continued creating magnetic stepping stones as Eva called to them. What a fucking mess, Ethan thought as he turned to look under his feet, behind him. At that big disgusting thing that he owed his existence to. It was buried under the freshly turned debris, but the red light was gone. They were all in the dark. Another rumble.

Ethan's fascination with what was under him and his shit balance on Heisenberg's meager steps were a bad combination. Before he knew what was happening, he was falling. Karl spun but was too slow to catch him. Eva reappeared on the lower petrified mold shelf, but Ethan toppled down past her, hitting his back on the edge of the outcropping and then bounced down even further.

He couldn't hear both Karl and Eva shouting to him, and he couldn't help but close his eyes as he lost consciousness. When he hit the wet, cold ground seconds later, Ethan stayed there for a few moments.

When he opened his eyes he was startled to see a form in front of him. He scrambled to sit up in the muck, seeing Eveline's outline, her arms outstretched, as she protected him from the other figure, now fifteen feet away. Now ten.

They were both speaking, but he couldn't hear them over the rumbling and the roar of the rain. Ethan glanced down at himself, wondering if he would just fall apart like paper--it sure felt like he would. Miranda spoke directly to the girl. He looked around; the canyon walls were steep, and wet, and now crumbling. How the fuck was he supposed to get out? How would he kill Miranda? If he could just stand up he'd happily head butt her to death, no weapon needed. But he was sinking in the sludge.

Miranda flickered in and out of his vision, and so did Eveline. This world was not...functioning correctly. Something was wrong. With a horrified feeling Ethan realized Karl couldn't follow him here..the connection was broken. Unless Eva felt generous, he was on his own with a ten year old lunatic. He tried to scramble to his feet, but the ground was so muddy he couldn't get any traction. Then, as Miranda flickered even closer, now seven, six feet away, and he kicked backwards, another form flew into the fray.

Karl skidded down in front of Ethan using a hubcap like a fucking skateboard, and when he slowed to a stop in front of Eveline, he roared the loudest he had so far, swinging the still-furious hammer in a wide arc from his right side side, to his back, and he drew the large angry-red weapon as far back as it would go. Then in a very familiar move, he slammed the charged hammer down directly on the ground in front of him. Ethan knew what would happen before the blow landed, and he shielded his face from the electrical arc. Karl had absorbed the shock of the electrical blast earlier--it had been stored in the hammer, and in his body, the whole time. Now it was sent, full of hate and malice, toward the black-and-silver clad figure.

The shock caused Miranda to fly into the darkness, and now Karl dropped to one knee. Ethan swore he could hear Eveline shrieking with laughter.

"Get me THE FUCK OUTTA HERE," Karl hollered over his shoulder at Ethan, who now dove forward, grasping Karl in a bear hug from behind, and screaming it aloud.

HOME.

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

When he opened his eyes, it was quiet, save for the pattering of rain around them both. Karl slumped forward on his knees, leaning on his hammer's handle. Ethan realized the debris under them was muddy, but the sinking sludge had been visible only within the mold's consciousness. The whole ravine looked as though a bulldozer had just chopped everything up--well, one had, in a way. The blond gingerly crawled around to Heisenberg's front. "Karl?"

The man's face was hidden as he slumped, head buried in the handle. Ethan scooted in front of him and after hesitating, reached out to pull a tuft of soaking wet grey-brown hair from Karl's face. This didn't do much, and he stroked more away, noticing the black fluid leaking from Karl's ears. The man's eyes were closed, but he had the same tar-colored tears. Ethan swallowed nervously.

"Karl?"

Heisenberg exhaled loudly. He slowly moved his head, sitting more upright, leaning his forehead on the metal handle. Ethan could see one eye as Heisenberg blinked at him. He looked tired, finally. That was a first. Ethan found himself putting a hand on Karl's knee. At this point, being Karl's anchor, it felt odd to not be touching him. But he hoped this touch was comforting. Karl smirked before closing his eyes again.

"Did I just fuckin' save the thing keeping Miranda alive?" he spoke finally, slowly, out of breath.

Ethan tilted his head and after a moment of fidgeting, decided he wanted to continue touching Heisenberg's hair. Gently, with his newly reconstructed hand, he threaded some of the strands. His fingers almost brushed Karl's cheek, and he paused at the sight of one of his scars.

"And me," he said in what was meant to be a sarcastic tone, but was simply tired as well. "And Rosemary."

Karl nodded, eyes still closed, face still jammed into the handle with exhaustion.

Then Ethan watched the scene slowly change. He was still touching Heisenberg's hair, but it turned auburn as he ran it between finger and thumb. He stared at Karl's face. Young again. He wasn't tired, covered in muck, or wet. He had a perplexed, but jovial expression as Ethan's hand trailed from his hair to his chin. They were sitting on a fucking picnic blanket. Ethan tucked the hair behind Karl's ear as Karl moved forward to kiss him again--

And now the vision was gone, and they were back in the rain. Was Karl sleeping? He didn't move, and now threatened to tip over as he leaned too far on the hammer. Ethan dropped his hand, his heart racing.

#winters and the beast

4 notes · View notes

night-garden-fic · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter Five: What Blooms in Winter

(Read on AO3)

"It works. This is good.

(This is bad.)"

Part Two

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"Is there a powder to erase this?

Is it dissolvable and tasteless?

You can't imagine how I hate this"

-"Graceless," The National

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Chapter Five: What Blooms in Winter

"...Good afternoon! What-"

Almost immediately, I realize I'm mistaken. These strange men aren't here for a book.

They're here for me.

Something is wrong with the light, and I can't get a proper look at their faces. Something is also wrong with my body; heavy, structureless, near-paralyzed. Unable to move or hold my ground, I am quickly overpowered.

Several hands—perhaps a few too many—pin me against the wall. A pair of heavy manacles are placed on my wrists. My own two hands feel far-away. Severed. I can't fight back.

For a hectic minute or two, I become convinced that I can turn the situation around by telling them how I really feel about being pushed around and shackled. So, in the most lascivious tone I can manage, I do just that, though I'm not really sure what outcome I'm hoping for. To unsettle them so much that they have to let me go? Or to somehow change the scenario entirely?

(No, not the second thing. I don't think that's how it works.)

In any case, they don't seem to hear me, so I give up.

Then, before I realize it, I am thrown into the cabin of a small airship, where I lie immobile on the floor and feel my stomach drop as the craft begins to lift from the ground.

(I'm supposed to go pick up Cecilia. How will she know that I didn't forget her?)

The airship is poorly-made. I can see the ground through a crack in the floor, and I know that if I look too long, I'll slip right through and crash to Earth. I close my eyes, but it doesn't work. I can still see everything. So I turn to look at the ceiling instead. It's surprisingly high, and vanishes into blackness.

(Into which I could also slip?)

I want to ask what I'm doing here, but I realize I already know.

The war isn't over.

I never finished my tour of duty, and was never properly discharged. It only makes sense that I'd one day have to finish what I started.

(Could I explain that I started against my will?)

(No, that doesn't make a difference.)

I don't know how it happened, but I'm standing on solid ground again.

(Where did the time go? Did I hit my head?)

My wrists are still bound, and strong hands are gripping my shoulders. Again, I consider letting everyone know what this does for me, but I can't keep a thought in my head for long enough to act on anything.

Instead, I let them walk me towards a deep, dark scar in the Earth.

A trench.

I think I know exactly which one it is, though it looks like it could be any of them. Or maybe nowhere I've been before.

(Or perhaps, nowhere at all.)

When we reach the chasm, the anonymous man behind me finally speaks:

"It looks like everyone's moved on, but this is where you left off."

His words seem to ring from inside my own head. Then he pushes me over the edge, and I fall so far that I'm surprised I survive the landing.

Something is wrong, though. I can't move.

(Everything is broken.)

Yes, everything is broken. And I'm half-sunken in the mud, my body braced on all sides, too weak to fight the building vacuum beneath me.

I don't know when night came. I can't recognize any constellations, and the stars are moving around at random.

(I guess I'll die here?)

(Oh, Sabrina, take care of my girl.)

Now that I'm resigned to it, it's almost peaceful. The Earth will simply swallow me, and I won't have to think about any of this ever again.

(I'm just finishing what I started, after all.)

Something starts blotting out the stars, and I realize that dark figures are gathering around the edge of the trench.

I still can't move.

And I have no idea what they're planning to do to me.

(Am I in my grave again?)

~*~

"Russell... Shh... It's all right... You're okay."

The voice was comforting, but Russell didn't feel okay. His heart was hammering against his ribs, and without his glasses, in the dim blue light of the distant moon and stars, he couldn't make out where he was. For all he knew, he was still paralyzed, stuck in the mud, waiting for...

I never did find out what they were, or what they were going to do.

For a sickening second, between sleep and wakefulness, he thought he felt one of their hands.

Mercifully, it was only Lady Ann, roughly shaking him awake.

At first, he cringed so far from her touch that he very nearly fell off the bed. But now that he knew who she was, he practically tumbled into her arms, with a sound that was halfway between a pained groan and another scream.

She enfolded him protectively, with an almost uncharacteristic tenderness, gently stroking his back. Russell buried his head in her chest, trying to melt with the comforting feeling of her hands on his skin. Still, he couldn't keep from shivering himself into a tense ball, and began to sob in frustration.

Frustration, and the sticky remnants of horror.

Lady Ann held him tighter, began running her fingers through his hair.

"It was just a bad dream... I'm right here..."

Yes... She's right here.

Suddenly aware of how soaked he was in his own sweat, and mortified that she'd been touching his drenched hair, Russell rolled onto his back, putting a bit of space between them

Just the ceiling. Low enough that you could stand up on the bed and touch it.

(Nothing waiting for you up there.)

"...How long was I asleep?"

Lady Ann moved to gently brush away the tendrils of hair that clung to Russell's face, as salt-tacky and sodden-limp as seaweed.

"About two hours."

If she was so determined to touch him, he figured there was no harm in allowing it. Russell leaned his mind toward the soothing sensation and sighed heavily.

"That all?"

Lady Ann shrugged, shadows pooling in the contours and crevices of her moon-pale shoulders and chest.

"Afraid so."

Russell unstuck his body from the damp sheets and sat up, hunched and cradling his heavy head.

"And I woke you up, too... Gods, I'm sorry..."

Lady Ann reached out to place a hand on his trembling back.

"It's okay. It... Happens. I'm sure I'll get back to sleep."

The way they all take it for granted.

"I know. Lucky you."

Though he'd barely been awake five minutes, Russell had already given up. The shivering had subsided, but his nerves were still buzzing under the skin, overheating his brain. He could almost feel those dream-phantoms hovering above his helpless body, waiting to strike.

There would be no sleep tonight, or perhaps even the next.

Lady Ann resumed stroking his back, which seemed like too little, too late. Even so, it made him feel a bit better all the same.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

Nothing you haven't already done.

(Apparently, it doesn't work anymore.)

"No... No, there's nothing."

Russell was half-hoping she was going to start winding him up for another session, but found that his heart wasn't really in it. His body already felt used-up and sore, and he wasn't quite up to the physical effort, especially if it couldn't even ensure a good night's sleep.

Lady Ann's hand came to rest on the back of his neck, her voice a breathy sickroom whisper that didn't really suit her.

"Lamp Grass helps you with this, right? Could you take some?"

Gods, could I...

Russell sighed raggedly.

"Edward stopped prescribing it to me. I think he thinks I'm addicted or something."

"You over-rely on it."

He could feel the quicksilver rising in his throat as his Lady did her best to reassure him.

"I mean, it seems to me like you just need it. And actually..."

She paused for a moment, and seemed to be considering something. Russell regarded her with curiosity.

"...Actually what?"

Another pause, in which Lady Ann seemed to be in two minds about what she was planning to say.

"Well... It's not an uncommon winter flower. In fact, I have an ornamental planting in my courtyard. I don't know how they make it into medicine, but if you can figure it out, you're welcome to try."

Russell brightened a bit at this news, feeling suddenly hopeful.

"...Wait, seriously? Would that be okay?"

Lady Ann shrugged, yawning and burying herself deeper into the messy blankets.

"Of course. I planted a lot of it this season, so take as much as you want."

Already, he was losing her, but it didn't really matter. Before long, he'd be getting lost himself.

"Well, thanks a lot. You're a lifesaver."

(In the literal sense?)

"Mmm..."

And, with that, she was gone. Alone in the dark again, Russell slipped on his glasses and began fumbling around with his clothes; shrugging on his coat and trousers and shoving his feet into his boots, not bothering with his shirt and underthings.

I shouldn't be out long...

Taking quiet, careful steps, minding the few stairs he knew could creak, he made his way through the dark Inn, then out into the bitter, stunningly bright nighttime cold of the courtyard; where the glimmer of the full moon on the sparkling snow was enough to make him squint, the chill enough to snatch the wind from his lungs.

His shallow breath coming in white puffs, sweaty hair freezing into brittle icicles that whispered in the wind like dry grass, Russell jammed his hands into the relative warmth of his pockets as he surveyed the garden before him.

The winter garden was a gloomy, eerie sight. Fallow beds bristling with the fragile remains of autumn's twigs and stems here; the elegant, severe angularity of White Crystal and Ironleaf there. Everywhere, a glistening, deathsome starkness.

It felt as though he were standing in the family graveyard of all green things. And, amidst all that grey-blue-black stillness, it wasn't difficult for Russell to find what he'd been looking for.

An inviting, red-gold glow.

(The proverbial light in the darkness, I suppose.)

He admired the phosphorescent blooms for a moment, then cautiously reached out and plucked a few, secreting them in his pockets.

Part of him hated tearing these orbs of warm light from such a cold, dark garden. But, when he thought about how he'd soon be taking some of that warmth into himself...

...Well, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt such sublime relief.

(Not since my last dose.)

As for the next dose, Russell wasn't quite sure how to go about getting his hands on it.

Should I go into the kitchen and try to make a decoction?

Would it work if I just ate it like this?

Suddenly, he remembered a lurid historical novel that he'd devoured with rapt fascination at sixteen. Admittedly, it had made him a bit morbidly curious even then, but that was before he had any reason to seek out such things.

Back when feeling well came naturally to him.

Well, better late than never, I guess...

Russell plucked another blossom and tapped the stem over the back of his hand, releasing a shower of glowing specks. He didn't know how much was a proper dose, but decided to keep the pile small, figuring he could always take more.

Let's just see how this feels.

Holding his breath, as not to disturb the tidy cluster of near-weightless granules, Russell held his hand up to his nose, then plugged one nostril and inhaled sharply.

At first, he almost thought he'd set himself on fire. The powder burned his sinuses on the way up, and his right eyeball was suddenly lit from behind, as though a miniature sun had been born and died right there in his head.

And then, a wave of calm like nothing else.

It emptied his brain, uncoiled his aching muscles, chased off what few phantoms still lingered around him. Russell's mind felt as cool and silvery-blue as the garden's frozen moonlight, as safe and quiet as the warm gloom of the Lady's bedroom.

It works. This is good.

(This is bad.)

Still, he could already tell that it would take a little more to properly put him to sleep. He tapped out another little pile of light; slightly smaller than the first, but enough to once again light up his skull like the sun.

This time, he nearly fainted. Russell fell to his knees in the snow, the stars wheeling overhead, his vision beginning to grow dark around the edges.

Maybe I'll just lie down right here.

Cold as it was, the snow looked as soft and inviting as any bed. The only thing that eventually stopped him was, funnily enough, another harrowing book from his sixteenth year; a story about a lost mountaineer who had to eat tree bark and ended up losing five fingers.

He was stranded in the hills. You're five feet from the door. Get up.

Russell wiped his burning nose with the back of his hand, and noticed that he'd left a small smear of blood. Unable to think of anything else to do about it, he quickly licked it off, then wobbled to his feet.

I think I'm already dreaming.

If he was, it was a pleasant one this time. The dead winter garden with its crystalline, metallic, and glowing blooms looked beautiful to him now, everything sparkling in the moonlight, so bright that his eyes could barely adjust when he stepped back into the deep velvet shadows of the Inn.

The shadows, once foreboding, now seemed gentle and protective. Their dark arms enfolded him, and Russell swore he could feel them carrying him all the way up the stairs, back into the warmth of Lady Ann's bed; where they carefully laid him down, naked and uncomprehending as the day he was born.

And then they swallowed him whole.

~*~

It wasn't until he woke to the livid, almost obscene red of a sunbeam falling across his closed eyelids that Russell realized he had slept through the night.

The shadows were gone now.

And, for that matter, so was Lady Ann.

He cleared his throat, thinking he'd call for her, but it set off a violent coughing fit. The fluid in his lungs must have pooled and stagnated from his lying in one position for...

...How many hours?

Russell couldn't be quite sure.

He only knew that, for the first time in a very long while, it may have been enough.

Leaning precariously over the edge of the bed, he riffled through his coat pockets until he found his handkerchief, then coughed again and spat. Regrettably, he couldn't resist briefly inspecting what he'd managed to bring up, and nearly panicked at the sight of dark blood on the worn white cloth.

Soon, however, the previous night began coming back to him, and he felt a bit more at ease.

Red blood. Red petals. A red light behind my eyes.

His nose must have bled into his throat as he slept, but he decided that didn't matter. It also didn't matter that he'd found himself still wearing his glasses, but otherwise completely nude, with no clear memory of getting undressed before collapsing into bed.

All that mattered was sleep. Sleep, and all it brought him.

Though still a bit pleasantly foggy from the drug, Russell's thoughts felt as clear as the sunny winter day itself, the leaden confusion of the past weeks burned off his brain like heavy fog. His body felt strong and quick, and sharply alive. The aches that had begun to constantly plague him were all but gone.

I guess that really was all I needed.

Just then, he heard the door creak. There was no fuge to startle him out of, so Russell stayed as he was, the sunbeam and the blankets warming his naked, luxuriating body.

Lady Ann peered into the room, sun gleaming on her rich brown hair. Then, upon seeing him awake, came to sit on the edge of the bed.

"...You okay?"

Russell coughed again, drier this time.

"Yeah... My lungs are still a little iffy in the mornings. Actually, what time is it, anyway?"

...Please, tell me it's morning.

"About two in the afternoon."

The sound of the door hadn't startled him, but this new information certainly did. Russell vaulted up in bed so quickly that he had to sit for a moment and let his head swim; feeling it fighting against some great whirlpool in his listing skull.

"Oh shit... I need to go... Cecilia's still at Sabrina's."

The dizziness subsided, and Russell picked his clothes off the floor and began hastily dressing, putting his undershirt on inside-out and fumbling with his myriad buttons and zippers. Lady Ann watched with what might have been amusement, handing him a stray sock that had gotten tangled in the bedsheets.

"Well, then you'd better get over there... Sorry for not waking you earlier. I just knew you needed the sleep... And honestly, I didn't know if I could. You were pretty out."

Russell took the old wool sock, slid it on, then set to jamming his boots on his feet.

"Don't worry about it... I forgot how dead to the world I can get on that stuff."

Lady Ann gave his shoulder a somewhat rough, thoroughly sympathetic pat; the sort of jovial, slightly masculine gesture that made him feel like an absolute fool for her.

"Well, at least now you'll remember... Do you want me to fix you something to eat before you leave?"

Russell paused, somewhat apprehensively, before the vanity mirror; checking for any residue of the previous night, and finding himself a bit pale and puffy-eyed. It would probably be obvious that he'd just woken up. But, after finger-combing his hair, and using his handkerchief to brush off the slight crust of dried blood from the inner edge of one nostril, he looked presentable enough.

It won't matter how late you are. She'll just be glad you've been sleeping.

"No, I don't have time... I appreciate the thought, though."

Something that might have been disappointment flashed across Lady Ann's face, but they both quickly dismissed it.

"Right... Well, I had a lovely night with you. See you later, Russell."

They shared a quick peck on the lips, and Russell smiled at her, bright and boyish, on his way out the door.

"Believe me, you will."

With that, he stumbled down the stairs and out into the bright afternoon.

Russell's boots crunched though the fresh powder, building up to a run. The sudden surge of energy and vitality wasn't just pleasant, but strangely fascinating. He hadn't realized how poorly he'd been doing, and had nearly forgotten what it was to be well.

In his mind, he saw his body filling with the golden light of life itself; the glow emanating from the tender membrane at the back of his throat and reaching all the way to the tips of his digits, keeping the blood warm and swift, even as he ran through the freezing snow. He felt as though he could keep going forever, dashing eagerly to meet the bright day.

But this was not, as it turned out, a pace that Russell could easily keep. He got out of breath easily these days, and had nearly slipped on a patch of ice in front of the Pub, so running quickly lost its novelty. He reluctantly slowed to a sedate walk, and carefully made his way to the beach; where the snow gave way to sand, and the sand gave way to infinity. He took a deep breath of the wild, salty smell of the sea, then knocked twice on Sabrina's door.

There was no answer, but he could hear some kind of merrimaking going on inside, so Russell simply opened the door, letting himself into the heavenly-smelling chaos of the Shack.

Cecilia and Nicholas were playing some kind of boisterous self-devised game at the kitchen table, which seemed to mostly involve flicking balled-up paper around, accompanied by a hell of a lot of squealing. Sabrina was clanging around washing dishes, occasionally playfully scolding or cheering on one or both of the children, so it took her some time to notice he was there.

But, late arrival aside, she seemed happy enough to see him.

...Russell! There you are!"

At the sound of her father's name, Cecilia snapped to attention; looking away from Nicholas, and consequently getting hit in the head with a ball of paper, which stuck fast in her thick, straight hair.

"...Daddy! We made steamed bread!"

Amidst the paper flotsam on the table, Russell noticed a platter containing a few pale, spongy loaves; some whole, some ripped into messy halves. Crocks of butter, jam, and honey. A graveyard of sticky knives. This was the obvious source of the sweet, yeasty smell that he'd noticed upon entering.

"I see that!"

Cecilia picked the ball of jammy paper out of her hair, tossing it at Nicholas.

"There's no milk in it! You can have some!"

Sabrina turned off the tap and placed the damp steamer basket back in the cupboard.

"Just some eggs and honey... Yes, have some! Tell us what you think!"

Nicholas used a greasy butterknife to flick the sticky paper back at Cecilia.

"Mom said she had to keep our hands busy!"

The crumpled paper ended up hitting Sabrina instead, and she discreetly slipped it into the wastecan.

"Yes, I did, and I think we can all see why... And anyway, I also said we needed to have a good lunch. Was it a good lunch?"

The kids nodded in enthusiastic agreement as Russell took a seat at the table, tearing himself half of one of the small loaves, and noting his topping choices. He settled on a pot of apple jam, and spread a thin layer on the soft bread. The combination was comfortingly plain, with a gentle, uncomplicated sweetness.

He was surprised at how delicious it was, then remembered that he hadn't eaten since the toast Cecilia had made for him at yesterday's breakfast.

I really need to get my act together.

"No complaints from me... I'm not sure who did what, but you all did a great job!"

Cecilia beamed with pride.

"I kneaded half of them!"

Russell took another bite of bread, chewing it carefully. He wasn't sure if this was one of Cecilia's, or even how he would know, but he figured he would humor her.

"Excellent work."

Sabrina gave Cecilia an approving pat on the head, then slid down into the remaining empty chair.

"This one's great at following directions. She helped with the curry rice last night, too."

Cecilia nodded primly in the affirmative, an oddly serious gesture for such a small girl.

Russell smiled. They weren't blood relations, it was true, but there were still times when he caught a glimpse of his childhood self in her.

"Hey, that's great! Keep it up, and I might just have you take over in the kitchen."

He had meant that as a joke, but wondered, for a moment, if it might actually be better for both of them. His way with food was about what one would expect from an unproficient bachelor who couldn't digest milk, and even he grew sick of his own cooking at times.

Nicholas, obviously bored of sitting in one place and listening to people going on about bread, was fidgeting in his chair.

"...Mom! Can we go outside?"

Sabrina ripped off the corner of a somewhat mangled-looking loaf and nibbled at it absent-mindedly.

"Sure, sweetie... Just put on your coats and boots, and remember Ceci needs to go home soon, okay?"

That was all it took to send the kids off like twin arrows. Hurriedly, they tossed on their warm outer clothing, rushing eagerly toward whatever could be unearthed from the cold, grey sands of the wintery beach.

With his bread eaten, and the noise of the children outside muffled by the walls of the Shack, Russell felt strangely awkward and out of place. Before, he'd been happily distracted. Now, he was suddenly self-conscious of the fact that he'd showed up well into the afternoon, likely still reeking of sex and acrid nightmare sweat.

"...Sorry it took me so long today."

He couldn't tell if Sabrina was genuinely untroubled, or concealing a level of annoyance out of politeness. In either case, he was grateful

"It's no trouble. I figured you were just getting in a little more relaxation. And I like having her here... Keeps Nicky busy."

As if on cue, Nicholas's voice rose outside. He was yelling something about a shark, while Cecilia giggled madly in the background. Russell sighed.

"Well, I know they're a handful... I'll make it up to you sometime. Really"

At first, back when he and Sabrina were an item, Russell had tried to keep the arrangement fair by inviting Nicholas to stay over at the Library as often as Cecilia stayed over at the Shack. Which, it turned out, was a rather hard sell, as the children found the sea far more appealing than what essentially amounted to an ordinary house with an abnormal number of books. Russell was never sure how to keep the two of them occupied enough to prevent things from descending into chaos.

He tried not to stare as Sabrina shrugged; a small motion, but just enough to hint at the incredible power of her shoulders, honed by years of swimming against strong tides.

"I appreciate the offer, but I promise they aren't a chore."

...And there it is, right in the heart.

He had heard that phrase before. Countless times, in fact. And every time, even now, it nearly brought him to tears.

"Russell, you aren't a chore to me."

Whenever he woke her in the night, or when there were whole days where he couldn't make himself get out of bed. Back in the very beginning, when he practically had to be re-taught how to make love. He was quick with apologies, but she seemed even quicker with reassurances.

"It's never a chore to be with you."

The soft sincerity of her usually boisterous voice, her skilled, delicate fingers weaving themselves into his...

(You remade me, you know.)

...He only ever half-believed her, but just hearing her saying it meant a lot all the same.

"Still, thanks again... Anyway, I guess I should probably go."

Sabrina looked slightly disappointed.

"Not staying for more bread?"

Russell rose from his chair and stretched his spine out of habit; expecting the bones to pop and crunch painfully, then feeling nothing but his well-rested body gliding fluidly over itself.

"No... I have things to catch up on at the Library. Nice seeing you, though."

They lingered in silence for a few moments, neither seeming particularly eager to part. And then, the sound of Sabrina's chair scraping across the floor as she came to stand beside him.

"Well, it was nice seeing you, too. We'll have to have a real visit sometime soon, though."

With a warm, friendly hand on the small of his back, she walked Russell to the door, then sent him on his way with a light peck on the cheek. He felt himself blush furiously, hoping in vain that she wouldn't notice.

"Yeah... Soon, for sure... You'll have to tell me all about ice fishing!"

Sabrina brightened noticeably.

"Yes, I'll tell you all about ice fishing! Goodbye, Russell."

Even her goodbyes never failed to make his heart feel full.

"Bye, Sabrina... Ceci! Time to go, kiddo."

Cecilia hopped down from her perch on the mysterious giant shell, little boots splatting loudly in the damp sand.

"Bye, Nicky!"

Nicholas looked up from a piece of rotting seaweed that he'd been inspecting with a stick.

"Bye, Ceci!"

They repeated this a few more times over, until Cecilia took her father's hand. The pair waved their farewells to their good friends, then carefully ascended the icy stairs together.

The chilly walk back to the Library was pleasantly quiet, save for the sound of the small Elven girl's coat pockets, which rattled cheerfully with stones and shells.

Russell couldn't wait for her to tell him about each and every one.

#rune factory #rune factory 1 #rf1 russell

1 note · View note

agcmbler-archive · 7 months ago

Text

Maybe that chasm between them would fill up substantially that night and maybe treading over it won't be as daunting of a thing. When Veritas looked at him through those narrowed eyes, lacking the usual sharpness that cut deep, he felt like he was wrapping around his heart. Not quite through those many layers but he was chipping at his wall little by little.

With that softness in those eyes, and the nudge to his cheek and the way he leaned into his touch just a little.

He wanted his company because he cared so much about him, because he found him comforting. Lying down in bed with him, even with nothing more happening between them, would be the most comfort he had allowed himself since before his imprisonment. Once upon a time, he had slept better when his bed was filled by someone else, when he would crawl into his sisters bed and sleep peacefully with his back pressed against her back. These days, strangers put him on edge, he couldn't trust that he wouldn't find a knife in his back or hands where he didn't want them but Veritas--

--he wanted to sleep pressed to his back, feel him breathe, listen to him sleep.

How close would he let him crawl tonight?

'How close do you want to be?' He questioned, his thumb tracing the apple of his cheek and he leaned still into his hand despite the nudge. 'You don't tell me these things. I don't know how far can I go?'

aventurine was a tortured soul, but not one beyond repair, and not one deserving to be shunned. he was a good man, no matter what his actions directed by the ipc might imply. he didn't want to lose him, neither to the nihility, nor another captor, not even to rightful grief.

he understood that he needed to be cautious, too, but quite greedily wanted to be someone to move past the myriad of walls erected in defense of his heart to help strengthen them from within instead; but he also understood how that was a terrifying concept, no doubt.

as he was once more labelled a fool, his eyes narrowed softly, warning, but not as sharply as they usually would. his cheek received an ever so gentle little nudge, nigh petulant protest, but he leaned into his palm in turn, and squeezed the hand that held his own. ❛ staying isn't the daunting part, but rather moving closer too little. ❜

#pantachorei #nah ur good

37 notes · View notes

sotgofficial · 3 years ago

Text

Second sunset.

My favourite band released a new album, and it gave me all the feels, so I wrote a little. Warnings: Spoilers for Auri's quest, dark themes, dissociation, suicidal ideation.

The sky is white.

At a distance, they look like clouds - like an overcast afternoon in early spring. Ordinary. Harmless.

It's the splotches of furious red and orange reflecting against the billowing clouds of smoke that betray their true nature. That, and the persistent, powdery ash that seems to stick to everything, smudging Auri's face with black soot. How strange it is, she thinks dimly, that she can see the fires even from such a distance. She thinks she feels something, but she isn't sure what. Her head feels like it's full of cotton, eyes swollen from tears and many sleepless nights. She tries to think of the people trapped in their pods, about the animals fleeing through the flames, but her mind spins endlessly in circles, bringing her back to a strange, surreal blankness. She thinks her mind may have snapped under the pressure like a dry twig, but she's grateful for the numbness nevertheless. She turns away from the sight of her sins and looks down. The cliff she stands on is steep, the chasm beneath it deep enough that she can't even see the bottom. Her toes curl over the edge, sending a few loose pebbles flying down into the dark and the cold.

It's cowardly, spineless, she knows. The least she could do, would be to return and face the execution awaiting her like a proper ranger - but it's so much easier like this. Like this, she won't have to see their faces as she goes to her death. Her face. Something heavy nudges her arm, momentarily interrupting her spiraling thoughts. Thistlefoot's large, brown eyes stare up at her from where he has shoved his snout under her arm, huffing a warm, damp breath into the chill air.

"I can't stay with you anymore," she tells him flatly. Her voice sounds distant, like it doesn't belong to her at all. "You're more than capable of taking care of yourself."

The antelope moves his massive head, nudging her insistently away from the ledge of the cliff. She loses her balance, and with a soft yelp, falls back onto her behind. Thistlefoot follows suit, pressing his face firmly into her chest to keep her down. She swears under her breath at him, before deflating, feeble and exhausted. She leans her forehead against his and closes her eyes. "Don't do this to me," she whispers to him. Thistlefoot says nothing, but the grassy scent of his breath and the steady calmness in his eyes soothes her. It's something real. Something she didn't destroy.

She curls her fingers into his fur.

"What should I do…?" The antelope lifts his head away and steps gingerly around the tiny bosmer, before carefully laying down next to her. Detached, as if sleepwalking, she grabs onto the thick fur at his shoulder and pulls herself onto his back as he stands up once more. As the forest fire paints a second sunset behind them, Thistlefoot begins to move north.

#auri song of the green #auri skyrim #drabble #ramblings

50 notes · View notes

imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years ago

Text

Birthday

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader

Word count: 1.3 K

Requested by anon: Prompt idea for Daryl x reader: they're in a relationship, Daryl hears Deanna talking to the reader about her birthday coming up in a couple of days (she has information about all of the people in Alexandria, that's how she knows) during the work on the walls of the community -reader is working there too- they never talked about his before, (1/2)

(2/2) in the night of that day when they're going to sleep he talks to her about it and she explains that she never really liked to celebrate her birthday, all the attention n made her feel awkward, so he decides to do something simple for her, just the two of them

Summary: You don't care about your birthday, but your husband won't let the day go by without a small celebration.

{The Walking Dead Masterlist}

“So, are you sure?” Deanna asks as you climb down the wooden watchtower. She turns at the street, walking next to you. “No party?”

“No party.” You reassure her. “Save it for someone else.” You don't really agree with these parties, but it indeed gives people something good to wait for. You do participate, but having one for yourself is not your thing. “And please don't tell anyone.”

“I know, don't worry about it.” Raising both her hands at you, Deanna smiles. She knows you well since you've been here for quite a while now. You were already a resident when Rick's group came along, and Daryl immediately got your attention. The man was cold and distant, but somehow, probably with a lot of help from heaven and his group, you managed to break through to him. “And how is the newly married couple?”

Blushing a little, you look down, smiling. Your relationship progressed fast. There's no time to waste in this world, so when you both felt like what you had would be forever, a small ceremony bounded the two of you. “We're doing great.”

“I hope so. Daryl Dixon is still a mystery to me.”

“That he is.” Shrugging your shoulders, you giggle. Looking from the outside, you and Daryl are completely different. You're friendly, and trust people easily, a personality trait he finds very dangerous. And when he first got here, there was a huge chasm in between you. He was wild, and you were too... Domestic. But with time, he taught you how to survive outside, in the woods, and you welcomed him into your simple life while inside the wall.

In the end, you matched, like a puzzle, perfectly complementing each other.

“Well, I'm very happy for both of you. But now I must go.”

“Sure. Good night.” With a little wave, you part ways, heading back home.

Today's dinner was a courtesy from Eric. Fettuccine, perfectly made. After doing the dishes, you and Daryl sit together in the living room for a while before going to bed. You have a book in your hands as he does something with his crossbow. But you notice he has been eyeing you for a while now, and after some minutes, you put the book down, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Hey, crossbowman. What's up?”

“Nothin’, just’...” Staring at you through the dark overgrown bangs, Dayryl grunts. Closing the book, you leave it aside. “Heard ya talkin’ to Deanna. Ya never told me about yer birthday.”

“Oh.” Pulling your legs up, you lay them on his. Daryl puts the crossbow on the coffee table, his big hand on your thighs. “It's not that I didn't want to tell you, it's just that I don't really think about it.” Shrugging your shoulders, you run a hand through your hair. “I don't keep track of time so the only reason Deanna knows is because she knows everything about everyone and has a calendar.”

“Why don't ya want a party ta’ celebrate? Bein’ one year older now means ya survived one more year.” Daryl doesn't give a shit about his own birthday, so it warms up your heart to know he cares about yours.

“I know. But I don't like the attention. Makes me feel awkward. But...” Moving to straddle his hips, you wrap your arms around his neck. “When it's someone else's birthday, we'll go and maybe I'll convince you to dance with me.”

“Huh. Good luck with that.” He grunts firmly holding your thighs before pushing himself up. “Let's go ta’ sleep. I had a hell of a long day.”

“Every day is a hell of a long day when the dead walk.” You say, swinging your legs a little as he carries you upstairs.

“Yer damn right.”

•••

Daryl isn't in bed when you wake up. But he left a note saying Rick needed him to fix something. So you go on with your morning routine without the man. After having scrambled eggs for breakfast, a true blessing, you take a fresh shower. After drying and brushing your hair, you move to the bedroom, looking for a shirt for the day.

“Yer up already?” Daryl asks as he silently enters the room.

When you turn around to look at him, his cheeks go red. Rolling your eyes, you sigh. “D, we're married, you know you can look, right?” You didn't notice you forgot to put on a bra until now.

“I know.” He grunts.

“Mhmm.” Walking over him, you grab the collar of his angel wings vest, pulling him closer. “It's my birthday, so kiss me, love.”

Daryl smiles before leaning down to capture your lips. It's slow and passionate, and you're just about to jump and wrap your legs around his waist when he pulls away.

“What?”

“Dress up. Rick needs us to do somethin’.”

“Alright, but later tonight it'll still be my birthday, so...”

“Anythin’ ya want. But now we gotta go.”

Pecking his lips, you dress up and head out. There's a car waiting for you by the gate, and you sit shotgun.

Daryl doesn't speak much, and you find it odd. He's not a talker, but he does talk to you. “D, did something bad happened?” You ask, realizing you still don't know what this is about.

“Nah. Jus’ need ta’ pick up a couple of things.”

“Alright.” Stretching out your arm, you massage his shoulder. Daryl gives you a look, smiling.

The ride goes on for some more minutes until he stops, gesturing for you to follow him into the woods. Your gun is in hand as always, and he has the crossbow.

“Am I suppose to be looking for something?”

“Ya make too many questions.”

“Yeah. And you never answer.” Tripping on a branch, you roll your eyes. “C'mon. What is it we have to pick up, I–” You're cut short when you see it. A red picnic towel, red and white, placed on the grass. There's a basket, and some stuff scattered on it. “D...? What...”

“Ya said ya don't like the attention, so I thought ya would like something jus’ for the two of us.” Daryl takes your hand, lowering the crossbow and guiding you to the towel, where you both sit side by side. “I had Carol help me ‘cause I couldn't–”

You don't let him finish. Taking Daryl by the collar of his vest, you pull him to you in a rough kiss. It wasn't supposed to be like that, but you might have pulled him a little too strongly. He quickly kisses you back though, a hand cupping your face.

“You are the best husband a woman can have.” You tell once you pull apart, a hand covering his mouth when he opens it, probably to disagree with you. “It's my birthday so you have to give me whatever I want.”

“Is that so?”

“Yup. Now repeat after me: I'm an amazing husband.” With your eyes locked on him, you take the basket, starting to put the things out. Everything smells good, and you're starving. “C'mon, babe. Pretty please.”

“M’ an amazin' husband.” Daryl finally gives in, eyes-rolling.

“I make my wife very, very happy.” You continue, leaving the food behind and moving to sit on his lap.

“...I make my beautiful wife very, very happy.” Placing a kiss on your jaw, Daryl smiles. “Anythin’ else?”

“I love you.”

“No! This wasn't for you to repeat, I'm saying that I love you, Daryl Dixon.” Fixing yourself on him, you wrap your arms around his neck.

“I wasn't repeatin’, Mrs. Dixon.”

“I love when you call me that.” Smiling, you kiss him again, slower this time. You never liked your birthday, but today, being here with Daryl alone, you love it. It couldn't be better.

#imagine daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #imagine daryl dixon #imagine the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead imagine

241 notes · View notes

angel-share-casual · 3 years ago

Text

There's something melancholy about having someone close to you be so far, emotionally. Mentally. There's this certain... Pain. You can reach them, physically, but there's this hole. This endless chasm that you simply cannot find a way around. Something about it hurts. Something so primal, and private, and sensitive. There are things a human was never meant to expierence. I think this was one. That endless gap, staring at you, even if you're one step apart.

Sometimes, I wonder what could have happened if Diluc killed me that night. I wonder how he would have taken having to bury two people he loved. Lost the same day, one by his own hand. I wonder if he would have forgiven me, forgiven himself. I wonder. Would he have lived? If he had, who would he have lived for? His business? His legacy? Mondstadt? Or would he simply have survived? Gone day by day, moment by moment because he simply had nothing to live for?

I hope I'm a reason he lives. I hope I bring him happiness. Even if it hurts. I hope... I hope he still thinks of me. In any way. Even if his thoughts are vile, hate-filled and acidic. I would reach my hands in, ignore the pain and pull him to me. I'd give him a hug, even if it killed me. I would let him lean on me, one last time. If he were my end, I would not fight. I would let him end me, take my life with some grace. I'd look him in the eye, for one last time, and smile, and tell him it's okay.

I hope he would make it quick. Painless. He could cook me alive, skin me. Starve me. And I would let him. Because he's Diluc. He is my world, and if my world gives me a hurricane, I won't run. I'd admire it's beauty and let it take me. I would never be angry at him. I could never. He is my most precious. My greatest friend. My closest confidant. He is everything I wish I could have helped him with. I failed my world, and I don't know how to cope. I wish my world would just raise its blade and try again, because I'm sure my blood would make a lovely shade of red for it's roses later on. I hope it would use my body as fertilizer. I hope it would find another reason to live. To love. To exist.

I hope. And I wish. I wish I didn't have to wish and hope. I wish I could still openly call him those things. To pull him close and hug him, cry in his shoulder once more without feeling like the biggest failure for failing him at his lowest point. I wish I could apologize for everything I have ever done to wrong him, but I was a child. I wish I could take those words back. I wish I could fix it for him. I wish I could fix me for him.

I wish I wasn't broken.

#diluc and kaeya #diluc ragnvindr #angst no comfort #genshin headcanons #Kaeya Alberich #Roleplay #Kaeya POV #Ow #Suicidal ideation

11 notes · View notes

daftlads · 1 month ago

Text

brandon can't tell him how much he enjoys this, coaxing things small and unsure out of solo with handfuls of need and desire and safety. won't tell him, will keep it safe against the roof of his mouth and hope it translates when the lights go out and he gets a little more honest, a little more physical, a little more tangible. each time his tribal chief takes a pomegranate seed from brandon's palm, the chasm between them shudders, closes. it's not entrapment for once. he doesn't move his hand from solo's jaw, scratches the points of his blood-red nails through the facial hair there absently as he pats around for his phone. this affection comes so easy, is given so freely.

"don't be sour, baby." he says it with a smile, leaning up for a fresh kiss as he slides the camera app open. "you know you look good too. what if i want somethin' to look at later, hm? what if i get lonely tonight?" all a tease, so that he might catch the way solo's eyes flash at him on film. so that he might snatch the twitch of solo's lip for himself, trace his gaze over it when he's reluctantly pulled from the real thing. "smile for me."

There is a stretch of road back in a place that hasn't been home for many years now. A stretch of road where he learned to ride a bike with scraped knees and bruised knuckles and maybe a missing tooth. Memories of childhood blur into one until he can no longer differentiate where one begins and the other ends. But he remembers that road, remembers it well when Brandon leans back against him and his own hands wander down the sides of his maneater. There are a whole lot less scraped knees here, and all his teeth are still firmly in his mouth, but the feeling of victory, when the road stretches out before him for the first time without training wheels, is almost the same. This is however somehow even sweeter.

Tries to keep his gaze on the mirror. Tries to keep his eyes devoid of joy and adoration and other feelings that are warped synonyms for weakness. Finds his willpower lacking when he allows his gaze to wander ⎯⎯ meeting familiar eyes head-on. He's only ever really been scared of his own desire anyway. Clicks his tongue with mock disapproval, but the sound is sweet as honey. ❝Be in it ? Man, you askin' me to ruin a perfectly good picture of you looking fine as hell ? ❞ Tightens his grip on Brandon's hips with want. Allows himself to have something for what feels like the first time in his life. ❝Fine. Take it before I change my mind.❞

#hitcritical #they are . they are so .#brandon : a taste of a poison paradise.#queue.

5 notes · View notes

dawndelion-winery · 3 years ago

Note

Wait, we could ramble about headcanons here, and I didn't know? Damn, I've been missing out, so here I go-

I feel that if Childe has a lover or even just a friend and the other harbingers find out about it. I don't think the harbingers' goal will be to kill them, no. So far, the harbingers that have been revealed in genshin all have goals that won't benefit from killing a harbinger's lover/friend, in my opinion. (But that can change, who knows?) Not sure how others see it, though-

Instead, their goal will be, "wtf do they see in this guy? Are they okay?" It won't be their main goal for sure, but they will wonder about it.

If Childe leaves their lover/friend alone with the harbingers (either by accident or for whatever reason possible), I feel that the harbingers will start talking shit about Childe or start questioning them like

"Have you seen this guy fight with a bow? It's horrible, and he still thinks he's cool...Don't tell me you still see him as cool after watching him-"

"What do you even see in him?"

It's not just limited to Childe. I see this happening with La Signora, Scaramouche, Dottore and any other harbinger in general. It's just a funny thought I had that I wanted to ramble about...

Wait, don't you think it'd be funny to see the harbingers fighting over their friend/crush's attention? Like all of them either are close friends or have a crush on them and once they find out the other harbingers feel the same, they turn it into some competition.

Anyways, that's all for my rambling. Hope you didn't mind it, and I hope it made sense-

Bestie I am a literal writing blog why wouldn't you be able to ramble about HCs here- /lh

Yes it did make sense ty for this I love them sm. The Fatui are very funky, and if you do the chasm quests you actually do get to see more of their dynamics

I like to think that the Fatui does have some semblance of familyhood because of the Tsaritsa's love for her people and the Harbingers being kinda like the aunts and uncles of the military. It's a very love-hate thing and I am here for it. I will pepper in the fact that a lot of the Fatui underlings were orphans raised there which probably adds to the whole sibling feeling since they'd grow up together under the higher ups

#long post #winery guests #post wine shenanigans

8 notes · View notes

hitoshisbabygirl · 4 years ago

Text

Authors Notes ♡: WHEW I LOVED THIS I had a time trying to come up with an idea and then it hit me : a princess being saved by fantasy au! Dabi. I’m still nervous with my smuts but heh I enjoyed this a whole bunch to write . Dabi is my favorite villain and I just love him so much, I tried to make him a soft inside and hard outside man in this , I Had fun for our free for all collab and I hope I help give it just a fun twist to fantasy and Halloween spirit ~ I hope you enjoy reading this and much as I did writing it ~ bunny ❥

Warnings :UH NSFW! Demon dabi has two dick (and their thick) , pet names, unprotected sex , a tad bit of a size kink? , a bit fluffy at the end but I think that’s it!

Word count : about 2k give or take!

Paring(s) :Dabi x F! Reader

Even with this being NSFW I had to make it a soft fluffy ending I’m sorry ♡

———————————————————————

Enchanted flames

Dabi

“If you have found this letter the Princess of Yuei needs your help. Meet me in the Enchanted Woods tomorrow night. Ill escape with you if you can save me from the proposed wedding - Princess [ ]”

With a sigh [. ] dropped the letter out of her window hoping someone, anyone , could save her from the doom that awaited her from an arranged marriage that had been planned from her kingdom to be to the neighboring ones prince, a smaller and very...purple hot headed boy by the name of Mineta who was unsavory for a lack of words. Sighing as she watched the paper fall she secretly wished her type of prince would come save her from this hell she expected.

As the night approached she slipped past her guards, telling them she was going out for air in her garden. The two towering men who looked down at her agreed, moving at the way to let the young woman past them and out into the halls, her dress dragging behind her as she headed out the giant doors to her garden. Taking in a breath she climbed over the perfectly managed hedges andddd off into the forest adjacent to the castle, roaming through the woods to her chosen spot to hopefully meet someone who could save her.

“Hello there little sheep, you called for help, correct?” A low, raspy voice called out as [ ] turned around , looking into the dark abyss in front of her. “ Hello? Helloooo? Who's there?” the girl called out as she heard something heavy land behind her. Turning to her right she saw bright blue eyes look back at her from the shadows. Before she could react a rather warm hand covered her mouth as the person or thing dragged her throughout the woods , the two of them slipping into the night. As soon as [ ] woke up her eyes adjusted to a dark but brightly lit and beautiful chasm, cyan and turquoise crystals of all types surrounded the room as she felt intense heat from everywhere around her. Standing up on shaky legs she felt eyes on her from behind. Letting out a deep breath she turned only to run into a barely covered chest.

Looking up from the revealed purple and pale skin , she saw those same blue eyes , lit with curiosity. “Ah you're awake..welcome little sheep to my...well..living quarters” The mystery man spoke as [ ] blinked at him, a grin spreading over his face as he continued to speak “Well i guess the princess doesnt know she isn't in her little castle anymore. Haven't those guards of yours realized they can't leave royalty alone or guys like me come along and take them out of their cute little homes” He said as [ ] gave him a suspicious look , her own thoughts taking over her face as a sense of calm rested over her features “Ohhh so you're the one who found my note..” She said as he gave her an unreadable look , soon walking away to leave the girl in her own world. “I guess he did” she thought to herself as she heard the male come back, a pile of things in his hands. “Here; a change of clothes and something to eat. I tried to be gentle taking you out of those dreaded castle grounds and through the woods but your dress isnt the smallest thing in the world” he said as [ ] let out a giggle , picking up the dark shirt and skirt he had given her along with the meal : some type of rice and meat with soup. Before she could ask the man answered “No i didnt steal it, i told you this is my home , its only natural id have something in this god forsaken place to eat.” He said as he pointed down the cave. “Theres a waterfall ahead if youd like to freshen up there.” And with that [ ] walked down the empty carved walls, finding the waterfall he was talking about.

Once she was finished getting cleaned and dressed she headed back the way she went, seeing the male now cloaked in a dark cape , fiddling with a pile of wood before setting it ablaze with a bright blue flame. “Ah i see you're finished , ILl be heading out , i'm gonna find us some more wood so you don't get cold. Theres a pot over there where you can reheat your food and get more if you like.” As he finished he proceeded to get up and head down another pathway, presumingly to the opening of the chasm “Wait!” [ ] called out as he stopped, turning to the girl with a questioning look back at her. “Yes princess?” he responded to her as she felt a unnatural wave of heat spreading to her face from simply calling her by her actual title. “What can I call you? And how long will you be gone?” She questioned. “Aw are you worried about me?” He cooed as she puffed out her cheeks “I was just curious” She lashed back as the male in front of her laughed , giving her a crooked smile. “ The names Dabi, and i won't be gone too long, an hour or so” Dabi said, giving her a smile as he started to leave again.

“Oh yeah , and there's a spare jacket in the back if you get too cold or that fire goes out.” and with that he left [ ] by herself as she finished up the dinner he had made which was exceptionally good, even better than what she tended to have at the castle. While she waited around for dabi to come back , [ ] looked at her royal dress, the red and pinks making her want to revolt as she pushed the fluffy tooled pile up into a blanket of sorts, covering her legs as she sat there thinking about her predicament “I really ran away...but what else can you do when youre gonna be married off to someone years older than you for land and alliance” she thought with a sigh as footsteps came from behind her , Dabi pulling his hood from his head as he smiled to himself at the girl in front of him “Im back princess” He declared as she turned to him, giving him a small smile as she stood up, dusting off her dress , coming up to Dabi “So...whatcha find?” She started as he pulled the bag from behind him , dumping out different goodies for the two of them. An array of food, wood and fresh buckets for water collections. “Here, this is for you too” Dabi said as he passed her a well woven balck dress, better than the two piece he had first given her. Taking in a deep breath he spoke up “I didn't want you to struggle with rags , so i got you something a little more comfortable and well...suitable for a run away princess” and with that she looked up to him and giggled which was heaven to his ears. ‘Why thank you Dabi..i'm flattered” [ ] said as she took the black dress , running to a hidden corner to change as Dabi smirked “Oh boy..what have i signed myself up for”

Weeks later and multiple posters for the lost princess later, [ ] had a rhythm living with Dabi. They cooked together and he left out to get things from shops ans out in the woods. Word spread that the princess had been stolen and the ugly grape himself had put a reward out for her safe return. Unknown to everyone she was quite content with the dark demon mage Dabi and his home in the woods. He explained the chasm as his work space, a place he could hone in on working with his flames and different elixirs that people needed. He was a half breed of human and demon, his father ridding of him to hide his affair with an otherworldly being, to keep the peace of his people and the overworld people as well. He really wasn’t a bad man, just someone who stayed in the shadows and kept to himself. And [. ] ‘s heart went out to him, as his did out to hers as she explained her own situation. ”Well damn sweetheart at least i saved you hm?” Dabi said as the two of them laughed together about their lives and what they'd like to change.

As the night drew on and they had their fair share of drinks and food that night “Thank you Dabi..for everything” [ ] said randomly as they relaxed by the fire he had started , [ ] wrapped into the oversized fur Dabi made her as the male laid against a log watching the tired girl mumble to him. She gave him a sleepy smile once he put his warmed hand on her face. “You're cute yknow...i'm not gonna let anyone get to you okay?” He said as she shook her head, moving herself closer to him , laying her head on his lap as he rubbed her head until she fell asleep, him soon realizing he was in love with the rogue princess in his lap.

As the next month rolled around , the princess and her demon mage had started a loving relationship, the two of them growing fonder and fonder of eachother. [ ] noticed that Dabi had tried avoiding being around her when she was fresh from the shower or even roaming too close behind her, he even took more time to come home with more ingredients or even sleep opposite to her. She didn't understand the switch from wanting to hold and hug her to avoiding her all day. One day she was able to catch and trap him with her. “Yes princess…?” Dabi ased as [ ] crossed her arms around her chest , the simple movement making him turn from her. “Did I..do something…?” She asked, her eyes bouncing between his as the turquoise she learned to love ignited with heat.

”Oh no doll...you haven't done a thing but make me want you even more..”

And with that comment her eyes widened. “What..?” She questioned. And with that Dabi picked the smaller girl up, pinning her to a crystal wall as she gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck.”Dabi…….?” [ ] called out as he started to kiss her neck ,running his rougher hands up the soft flesh of her thighs. “I think i'm in love with you doll..youve been invading my head or a while and all i can think about is making your cute little body want me the burning way i want you...I wanna make you cry out for me all night long...make you mines forever.....is that okay?” He whispered in her ear. With a shudder she agreed , letting him kiss the swells of her brest as he gave her a lopsided smile, picking her up and taking her to a pile of pelts and wool they made into a bedroom to rest in. Placing her down lightly he towered her , taking off his vest to reveal his toned and scarred body “Youre quite a beauty yknow...im glad you trust me…” He said with a smile as [ ] herself smashed her lips against his, cutting off his mushy talk. With a groan he pushed her dress up , letting her breast bounce out from the top. Pulling away from the kiss she helped him take off the dress over her head. With a shy smile [ ] covered ehrslf and laid back, spreading her legs lightly to expose her glistening lips to him

“Well damn, i havent even toughed you yet and youre this wet..what a little slut you are”

He growled out as he leaned back over to give her a kiss , pulling her lower lip as he licke dhis was down between her legs, giving her clit a hard suck as she whinned , closing her legs over his head as he slurped away at her pussy, making sure to watch her through hooded eyes, a tail whipping from behind him as a pair of horns appeared from atop his head, one mangled and cracked the other long and curled “Surprise” Dabi called out as his voice dropped octaves, it coming out as a low rumble as [ ] felt her walls clench at the sound , a chuckle coming from him. Going back to slurping and sucking on her labia and clit , Dabi watch with glee as the gilr under him started to shake, her hips rolling back to his mouth as he bit lightly down on her lips and pulled away from her , laughing at her pleas and whimpers “Turn sound baby and let me show you how much i love you” Dabi said , watching as [ ] rolled over arching her hips back as he smacked her ass, loving the moan she let out. Pulling down his pants he pulled his throbbing member out, rubbing it hard against her clit as she felt her heart jumped at the feeling of how thick he was. All of a sudden she felt hands pull her cheeks apart as a finger rub around the tight rings of her ass. With a gasp she looked back to see not one but two swinging dicks between the burning up male, a feral look in his eyes as he let a low rumble come from his chest “ Sorry babygirl..when I change there's more than just one of me to deal with, i promise i'll be gentle” He said as he rubbed her tight muscles just loose enough to put in the tip, her lower lips drooling as he slid his true size into her throbbing walls, moans and grunts tearing through the chasm as he pulled his hips back , starting to set a rhythm to his hips. While he picked up the pace, [ ] felt herself being full as the two dicks of his stuffed her. She could help the feeling of her walls getting tighter as she came once then twice and not once did Dabi stop, he laughed as he gave her more and more , pushing himself deeper in her as he let out what sounded like a howl of pain as he doubled in pace, reaching down to rub her clit as she screamed, soon feeling a hot and warm gooey feeling flood her senses. Dabi slowed his hips down as he pulled himself from her ass first, then from her pussy and cum started to leak from her holes.

“Shit...im sorry princess I didnt mean to go so rough…” Dabi breathed out as [ ] turned around giving him hr own lopsided smile as she saw him transform backto himself, those turquoise eyes softening as he saw the woman he had fallen for spent out from his own actions. “Geez when you said you were a demon i didnt think it was true…” She laughed as he scratched th back of his neck “Ive never transformed like this around someone….especially during sex but that means I trust you a lot….well doll..let me clean you up and then...we can go fro round two hm?” He smirked as he watched her pussy clench and relase more cum once he said that. “Mhm...clean me Dabi then we can have some more fun..”

#my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #the circus dome collab #dabi x reader lemon #dabi x reader #dabi smut

399 notes · View notes

lalekaplanbrody · 2 years ago

Text

Lale was not used to such a vulnerable show of emotion. The men in her life had not often been the sorts to bare their emotions so glaringly and for a stunned moment Lale did not know what to do for him or his tears. Her stomach lurched with painful empathy for his raw ache. She wanted to tell him it would be okay, he'd be okay. However, she didn't thinking platitudes did anyone any favors. Least of all someone she considered a friend. So she said nothing. Wordlessness spread between them and all Lale could do was offer a comforting touch as she did not have the words to soothe the chasm that had opened up inside of Drew.

Lale held him, craddled him close the way she would someone she loved a great deal, her fingers stroked through his hair and she let his cries fall between them with understanding silence. He said he knew how people could die of a broken heart. The words sent a small jolt through Lale, a memory of a doctor giving them medical jargon that essentially summed up to the fact that her father had died of a broken heart. "I know...shhh." She soothed, her face pressed against the top of his head as she spoke in quiet tones. Lale followed him to the steps, sitting beside him she couldn't bring herself to face him just yet. Het stomach lurched forward and the ache of his words opened a million things inside of her that she had worked to keep sealed shut.

"I don't have any words that can make you un-heartbroken." She said after a contemplative moment. "There is no magic answer. I wish there were. But all we have is the understanding that we all feel this raw heartbreak that threatens to turn us inside out and rob us of everything we've ever known to be true of ourselves. All we have is mutual understanding and fancy words that make us feel seen. Not even less alone. Just understood. It's a sick kind of satisfaction to know you're not alone in this awful feeling. To find fleeting solace in knowing others feel like their dying when they lose someone they love. Wishing no one and at the same time everyone would feel this way..."

Lale frowned hard, the lines in her face contorting as the illumination from the pool cast shadows on her face making her appear softer. "Drew that's so sad." She decided on a sigh shaking her head and laying her head on his shoulder a moment. "If you make someone your everything. All you are when they mess up, when they hurt you or leave it feels like dying." She wrapped her arm through his, she'd been with Ben coming up on fourteen years. Soon she would be with him longer than she was without and she wondered if she could ever leave him. Even after his affair she had stayed, he was her family. It was never the same again- she kept parts of herself hidden. Maybe it was self-preservation to prevent herself from ever becoming so twisted into him that she would be reduced to what Drew was should he leave her or cheat again. "Maybe it'll happen. Maybe it won't. Maybe Aly will never come back. You'll be sad for a long time, but you will not be this way forever." Lale set up and took his chin to gently guide him to look at her, "And you're not pathetic. Not for this."

andrew had tried to be strong but as soon as she had reached out and touched him he had lost it. his tears flowed freely now and his breathing had picked up much louder now. andrew had been trying his best to talk himself down from a panic attack he had felt coming on. something he hadn't had since his brother in law had passed away, back when recreational drugs had induced them. he did his breath to take long breaths and breath through the tightness in his chest. andrew wasnt sure how much longer he was going to be able to stand up in the pool as his legs were beginning to feel more and more weak as he stood there. andrew had felt more vulnerable over the last week or so than he had in his own life. aly leaving him had really broken something inside of him.

once her arms wrapped around him he no longer could hold back. thankfully the two were in the water so it had made the larger man a little more lighter for her petite body to hold up. though even through whatever break down this seem to be he did try his best to not do anything to put a strain on her to hurt the baby she was carrying. in any other situation the man would have laughed at her joke but he just couldnt. he couldnt do anything but cry. he had felt literally broken. "i see how people die from a broken heart." the man had confessed in a whisper as he hugged her, "because lale i don't think i can keep going on with the pain i am feeling." he pulled back to let her dry a few tears from his face. then he stumbled back to take a seat on the stairs and then he put his head in his hands.

"i don't know, a while ago?" andrew should have know the day, the time, the moment however it had all been a blur. "i dont even know what day it now." the man confessed. "it has been a week or two.. or three." he went on. "she has been gone for a while and i can't take it any more. i don't want to take it anymore, i don't want to feel this way and i don't want to be without her. she was my life." he said as he gasped for a deep breath of air before speaking again, "i have been with her over half of my life. there is no andrew without aly. i have no idea who i am and i am nothing without her, lale... nothing but a weak, pathetic excuse of a man." it was apparent just how disgusted with himself he currently was. "i just want my wife back."

#death tw #cheating tw

46 notes · View notes

andraaste · 4 years ago

Text

I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction excerpt

Hellooo ! There is an excerpt from one of my chapters on my fanfiction about Lance, translated into English (I apologize in advance for the quality of the translation...)

« Your powers are still there »

- Look, I don't even know why I decided to come see you here, but what is certain is that it was a mistake. We are definitely not meant to get along, you and me.

Pissed off and frustrated, I headed for the door to leave this stuffy place, when his hand grabbed my forearm and stopped my gesture.

- Andraste, calm down.

I didn't answer. I just waited for him to make up his mind to let go of me, still turning my back on him.

- You still haven't told me why you came here, he continued.

- I already told you, I had no particular reason, so let me go please. I thought you won't hold me back.

- I won't hold you back when you explain it to me.

His tone was dry, but nonetheless he pulled gently on my arm to push me to face him. With our sleeves rolled up, this was the first time our two bare skins had touched each other, the dragon usually always wearing gloves, and that contact felt like pricking my skin. Feeling a strange sensation arise in me, I finally unwrapped everything for him, trying to hold back my tears of frustration in the process.

- I feel lost, Lance. I feel like I have to start all over again, except this time around, a chasm seems to separate me from those I already knew. I am tired, my body can no longer keep up. And I feel ...

I looked for a moment at his hand, which was still holding my forearm firmly, the paleness of my skin contrasting sharply with the tanned complexion of his, before looking up at him.

- Incomplete, I finally concluded. I feel like my body needs to regain its powers, but I can't.

Lance observed me for a long time before lowering his eyes in turn.

- Look.

I followed his movement to discover a soft light escaping from my palm held between us. I was speechless.

- How...

My voice stopped. Why were my powers awakening at this precise moment? Since that famous training with him, I had tried several times to use them again, but each of my attempts had resolutely turned out to be luck.

Lance's fingers grew colder and colder and soon, faint streaks of ice appeared on my skin and descended to the heat source in the palm of my hand. When the two elements met, I felt an incredible force spread in me and with the same impulse, the light which escaped from my extremity suddenly burst a bluish color. My hand and arm were almost completely covered in ice, but yet I only felt a slight chill run through me.

He released the pressure on my arm before sliding his fingers until finally let go of me. When the contact between our skins broke, my light flickered for a moment before disappearing. No more sign of magic marked my numb member.

- Your powers are still there, Andraste.

He paused before adding :

- And obviously, they seem to react to mine.

I didn't understand exactly where he was going.

- To react to yours, what do you mean by that?

The dragon had let go of me, but he still didn't back down. His large build blocked my view, I only saw him.

- I don't know exactly, I’ve never had this kind of reaction before. But aengels and dragons have a rather complicated common past, that would explain some events like this one.

I thought back to the fight Leiftan and I had faced him seven years ago. Our powers had as it were merged that day. I thought this only happened because we were both aengels, but was it possible between beings of different origins ?

- Have you ever heard of people merging their powers? I inquired, nervous at the thought of his answer which I certainly wasn't going to like.

His gaze remained impenetrable.

- Apart from Leiftan and you, no, not that I know of. But our races being extinct, we know very little about these kinds of facts.

A memory came back to me then.

- And Fáfnir, he could tell us more !

Lance didn't move but I felt him imperceptibly tighten, which made me anguish. I asked the question that nagged me cautiously.

- Something wrong with Fáfnir ?

He seemed to hesitate to answer me for a moment, but finally spoke, his tone heavy.

- Andraste ... he breathed in contrition and I thought I saw a few sparks of ice escaping from his lips. Memoria is gone, he said, and the dragon's eye too.

I was speechless in amazement. He gave me a few seconds to digest the information before continuing cautiously.

- We don't know where the dragon souls are at the moment. Shortly before you woke up, quite a few unexplained events like this happened. Fáfnir is ... nowhere to be found, let's say.

For the first time, the man's gaze in front of me seemed to waver slightly. The dragon never let it show, but yet I knew it disturbed him more than he made it seem.

- Lance ...

- It's not important, he cut me coldly. We will inevitably find them eventually but for the moment, we cannot count on the knowledge of Fáfnir. However, I would like to know one thing.

I looked at him questioningly.

- How come my ice didn't do anything to you? You didn't seem to feel the cold.

I was taken aback. Granted, only Lance was the only one who really knew what was happening to my body after seeing the miraculous healing of my wound, and my unexplained blood loss, but I hadn't told him all the details I had. had counted on keeping for myself.

- It's probably because of this merging of powers thing, nothing more, I argued with a shrug that wanted to be nonchalant. We do not yet know anything about this phenomenon after all.

Unsurprisingly, the young man did not seem entirely convinced by my answer. He was definitely a formidable adversary, even in areas other than combat. It was my luck.

Cautiously, he moved closer to me, his gaze fixed on mine.

- So, you know if you trust me?

Getting a little closer, he lifted his hands and slowly directed them to my neck, probably giving me time to decide whether or not to let him.

- Let me try something, he whispered to me.

Cradled by the calm tone of his voice, I let his hands reach the thin skin that covered my neck. His long, slender fingers encircled the entire back of my neck, he barely touched me, as if he was afraid that I would push him away. I plunged my questioning gaze into his, his gaze totally focused on his task, when the tingling sensation I'd had earlier on his touch began again, this time where his hands covered me in.

His concentrated face was now tilted so close to mine that I only had to whisper for him to hear my question.

- What are you doing ?

I suddenly felt the same streaks of ice run through my skin. Rising to the bottom of my face, they marked my skin with a slight tickle. Despite everything, I only felt a small sensation of cold.

Lance smirked weakly.

- Breath, he intimated in a deep voice.

Without really knowing why he was asking me to do this, I still breathed weakly into the small space between us. It was then that with amazement, I observed light crystals of ice escaping from my mouth, until gradually transforming into a sort of bluish flame. I widened my eyes at this phenomenon, it was his dragon fire !

His smile widened then.

- A real little ice dragon.

A light expression floated on his face as he gently removed his hands from my neck, removing the last traces of ice that covered me. Slowly, he pulled away from me as well, putting a distance of convenience between us.

I was obsessed with the feeling of fierce power that had invaded me for a brief moment. So that was the strength of the dragons? This feeling of invincibility so primitive. I understood better why they were so formidable, when I had yet tasted only a tiny part of his powers.

- How did you do that? It was amazing!

The latter observed me, his face suddenly slightly serious.

- To be honest, I didn't think it would work. This is the first time that I have tried to impart some of my power to someone else, I didn't even know it was possible.

We both watched each other silently in the stillness of the room, each realizing the extent of the communion of our respective powers.

And it was ... almost scary, to be honest.

The dragon's voice finally broke our silence.

- Andraste, I will advise you not to tell anyone about this phenomenon for the moment, I do not yet know what that could imply.

I nodded without batting an eyelid, I totally agreed with that idea. On the other hand...

I fixed his blue eyes with a determined gaze.

- Lance, I would like you to help me regain my powers.

I paused, hesitating on what to do next.

- But maybe ... out of sight, like here.

He raised an eyebrow in disbelief, a thin smile on his lips.

- The little human wants to make clandestine dates in my room ?

(If you want to read Chapter 1, click on it)

#eldarya #eldarya lance #Lance #lance eldarya #eldarya fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #eldarya boys #i am not your enemy

70 notes · View notes

ghostbustermelanieking · 4 years ago

Text

reunions

post mag 196 spec/au fic: jon and martin emotionally reunite and hug: the fic

this is entirely self indulgent and not at all meant to speculate canon. playing into my trend of writing the season 5 scenarios i want to see in the world, i wanted to write a fic that's entirely just martin and jon reuniting and hugging, just in case this never happens in canon. this assumes things go relatively all right after jon and basira arrive at htr and everyone gets a chance to talk things out. also can be found here at ao3!

The moment that Annabelle's explanation ends, when she steps away from the spot where Martin is held down, Jon lurches forward to free him. The web stretched over the abyss wobbles precariously at his sharp movements, and the way Martin's eyes widen with panic makes Jon's chest ache. "Careful," says Annabelle, voice thick with amusement, "or you'll bring the whole thing down."

" Martin, " says Jon, clutching at Martin's hand from where it sticks out of the strands of web. Martin clutches back, his grip desperate around Jon's hand.

The sick feeling that had emerged in Jon's stomach when he and Basira arrived to see Martin stuck in a precarious web (that almost resembles the ribbons of a tape recorder) hasn't subsided yet; it sharpens, actually, seeing how far the fall is. He hasn't taken his eyes off Martin since he got here, hasn't been able to stop staring at the web and the strands around Martin and the whole of it, his relief at Martin being alive coupled with his panic over where he is. His voice is still raw from where he'd shouted at Annabelle to let Martin go.

Jon grips Martin's hand tighter, and fumbles at the places where the web is holding Martin down. He wants to believe Annabelle when she says that she won't hurt them, that her plan will actually help them, but it's hard, considering all of it—especially with Martin suspended thousands of feet above a chasm to nowhere. "Martin," he says, voice strangled, "hold on, just… it'll be all right, j-just..."

" Jon, " Martin chokes out, his fingernails digging into Jon's wrist.

Jon finds a knife, somewhere in his pocket, and snaps through the strands around Martin, hands shaking with the effort of trying not to cut through the web that's actually keeping them from falling. The whole thing is shaking, suddenly, as Martin is freed—either because Jon has cut too deeply or from the exertion of their movements—and Jon's hands close in a frantic motion around Martin's wrists, as if he can actually pull Martin back when they're both balanced on the same precarious ledge.

For a moment, it feels like it's just the two of them, clutching at each other's wrists, staring desperately at each other as they tremble on the edge of a cliff, and Jon can only think, panicked, that if Martin goes down he is going with him. But then he feels a hand close around the back of his jacket and yank backwards—Basira, from her spot on the edge of solid ground, hauling them towards solid ground. They both scramble back with the motion, Martin's feet scrabbling uselessly against the strands of web, Jon yanking upwards so hard that his muscles ache with the strain of Martin's weight. But something gives way, and they manage to land on solid ground just as the strands of web keeping them up snap free.

" Christ, the two of you," Basira snaps, wearily, her hand landing reassuringly on Jon's shoulder for a moment. "Can't stage a rescue mission without both of you almost collapsing into some… s-some other dimension. "

"I wouldn't have expected anything less," Annabelle says pleasantly, still sounding like she might be laughing at them.

Jon rolls onto his side, panting, and wrenches himself into a sitting position. His eyes yank immediately to Martin, picking himself up, pulling strands of web away from his wrists and ankles ringed in red from the restraints. Martin's head swivels towards Jon; his own eyes are wide, nearly brimming with tears.

Jon isn't sure which of them moves first. Maybe it is both of them at the same time. All he knows is that a moment later they are colliding together, on their knees, embracing. Martin's arms are so tight around him that Jon's ribs ache, but he doesn't care. Jon's clutching at the back of Martin's jacket, his face pressed into Martin's neck—Martin's pulse, Martin's heart beating because he is alive —and he's mumbling frantic apologies: I'm sorry, Martin, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It takes a few moments to register Martin's voice, warm and cramped and frantic in Jon's ear, murmuring apologies of his own.

"We'll give these two a moment," says Annabelle to Basira.

Jon barely registers this, either, or the sound of their retreating footsteps. All that matters is that Martin is here, here and whole and warm in his arms. Jon shuts his eyes, feels the warm slide of tears down his cheeks. Tugs Martin a little closer, somehow, holding onto him tighter. A part of him had really thought he might never see Martin again.

He says this—voice breaking, fumbling upwards to press a hand against Martin's cheek, he says, "I-I… thought I might never see you again. Martin, I was so scared. "

Martin makes a choking sound. He leans into Jon's hand, covers it with his own shaking one. "Jon… Jon, I'm so sorry. I… I didn't mean it, I… I was afraid I'd lose you, a-and I overreacted, but I… I didn't… and then I left, and I-I-I didn't mean to…"

"Martin, n-no, Martin, I…" Jon jerks back a little, looks up at Martin. Wipes a tear from Martin's cheek with his thumb. "Martin, I'm sorry. I… You were right. I w-wanted to tell you that, you… I shouldn't have… I-I came too late, I never should've left, but I wanted to tell you…"

"No, Jon, you don't understand, I…" Martin shakes his head. Links his fingers with Jon's, squeezes his hand and kisses the palm gently. "I left on purpose. W-well, not really, Annabelle, she… bl-blackmailed me, or something, she said she'd leave if I tried to find you, she… but I left willingly. I-I tried to hang behind, sl-slow us down so you'd be able to catch up but I, we, we were too fast and I… I'm so sorry , Jon. I wasn't thinking. I didn't know what else to do, b-but I never should have…"

"Martin, don't… it doesn't matter, all right? I-it doesn't matter, it… you're here, you're all right." Jon wraps his arms hard around Martin again, turns his head to kiss Martin's cheek. He'd thought he might never see Martin again, he really had, but here he is. Here he is, alive, and the rest of it doesn't seem to matter somehow. Martin's here now.

Martin seems to soften in Jon's grasp; he kisses Jon's fingers again before hugging him back just as tightly. "She… she said she had a way out," he says softly. "Annabelle. One where we don't… die, o-or take Jonah's place, or… T-that was why I went. I… If there's any other way, I…"

"I know," Jon says quietly.

Martin's fingers tangle gently in Jon's hair. "Do you… can you… See? Is she telling the truth?"

"No. No, it's too muddled, the Web is clouding my vision. But…" Jon shudders a little, presses his face hard against Martin's shoulder. "I-it's not good, I don't think. Not entirely. I… I-I don't know what… maybe we'll both make it through, maybe… b-but I don't think it'll be something we… want to do."

Martin sighs, his eyes sliding shut. "Of… of course it isn't. Of course it isn't."

Jon sighs, too, pulls back a little to look Martin in the eye again. "But… if there's any chance…"

Martin nods. "I… I meant it, Jon, when I said I wouldn't doom the world for you. Or I… I wanted to, I thought I did, but I… I didn't think…" He swallows hard, sniffles a little and seems to compose himself a little. "B-but, yeah, if there's any chance of… of you, o-of both of us…"

"Y-yes, yes," says Jon. "Anything. Any chance at all. W-we'll hear her out, we… m-maybe it really can fix things."

Martin laughs a little, softly, and Jon can't help but laugh, too, the stunned, awed sort of laugh. They're here, they're both here, and maybe they have a chance. They press their foreheads together, breathing in time; Jon squeezes Martin's hand again. "I love you," he whispers. "A—and I won't leave you again. I promise."

Martin squeezes back before letting go. "Wh-whatever happens?"

"I promise," Jon repeats. "Whatever happens, w-we'll be together." For a moment—here, back with Martin again—he allows himself to hope that things might end all right for them. Maybe.

Martin pushes hair away from Jon's face, brushes his fingertips over Jon's jaw. Smiles just a little, wobbly, and Jon smiles back. "I… I can live with that. I—I love you, too. I love you, and I promise I won't leave you, either. Not again."

"Guys." Jon turns to see Basira, standing a few feet away, the expression on her face somewhere similar to what it was in the Wonderland Hospital, after the Hunt domain, when they'd taken a moment. She shrugs at them, a bit sharply. "Annabelle says it's time."

Jon sighs again; a large part of him is unwilling to step away from this, this brief peace they've created at the edge of a chasm at the end of the world. "All right. We're… we're coming," he calls. He slides his hand down to take Martin's again and holds on tight, like the webs are going to snap up and pull Martin away again. He isn't sure how much time they have left, but he knows he doesn't want to lose track of Martin again in the process of it. Not that, never again. He won't let it take him away again.

Martin leans into him, just a little, before they get to their feet. "Together?" he whispers into Jon's hair.

Jon nods, presses a kiss to the soft crest of Martin's shoulder. "Together," he says.

They get to their feet, still clasping hands, and follow Basira across the sharp landscape of the cavern at Hill Top Road, to where Annabelle Cane is waiting.

#tma fic #jonmartin #mag 196 #the magnus archives #tma #tma spoilers #i wrote this #cant decide if i like this or not but here it is!!

72 notes · View notes