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bitchin-witchin · 1 year

Text

For Love

Ajax has a talk with his Master Skirk about self and sacrifice.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Concealed by the earthen and stone walls of their underground shelter, wall sconces holding chunks of lumenstone provided light for Skirk and Ajax to work below. Accompanying the swish of Ajax practicing with a polearm he found a few days back was an almost imperceptibly repetitive popping. Skirk poked a bone needle in and out thick leather as she sewed new soles to her boots. She occasionally watched Ajax for moments at a time to observe his form and supply verbal corrections.

She glanced from the corner of her eye when he came to sit by her, sliding his back down the wall till the floor caught him. He tilted his head this way and that, watched her stitch, zoned out to the subtle pulse of the lumenstone lights, searched the ground for a smooth pebble to roll between his fingers.

He turned to her. “Master Skirk?”

She hummed in question.

“Do you remember what you were like before you were in the abyss?”

The popping stopped. She held the needle halfway through the leather. Moments from another life slipped through a catacomb built of memories left to disintegrate in the dark.

She pushed the rest of the needle out. “I do.” The popping resumed.

“Have you ever wanted to go back?” he asked.

Skirk put the boot down with an audible exhale out her nose and shifted her body to face Ajax. “Perhaps, when I believed there might be something to go back to. There never was,” she shrugged, no sign of yearning or mourning in her voice. “Even if there was, it’s no longer mine. I’ve changed too much. The person from that place is dead.”

Ajax rolled the pebble. “...Have I died?”

“....”

“I’ve drank the blood of vicious beasts and mysterious beings, made a part of their soul and power mine, all so I can go home. What will be left of me?”

Skirk put a hand to his shoulder. “When I first started training you I told you to think of the most important thing in your life, what makes you want to live, and you chose your family. Do you want to see them again?”

His mama and Papa or one of his siblings would find him. They’d be furious at him, searing hot tears and hugs tight enough to squeeze all the air out his lungs and keep him from breathing more in. He’d hold still and let them suffocate him, let their tears burn through his clothes and flesh and bone as they press their cheek to his and kiss him all over, their fingers gripping into his scars, opening him up to fill him with their love and heal him anew.

Ajax nodded. "I want to meet them again."

“Then you’re not dead.” She patted his shoulder, the fabric of his clothes dried stiff with who knows what. “Change your clothes before you go to bed.”

The change in subject, like his identity crisis was another daily chore to cross off the list, pulled a smile out of Ajax. He tucked a laugh into his other shoulder. “Yes Master,” he said. Stood and wiped the dirt from his hands onto his pants while she picked her boot back up.

Boots finished and clothes changed, they checked all their security measures on the shelter. They tied cloth over all the lumenstone chunks except for one and laid down together on their ‘bed’: a shallow depression dug into the ground and lined with a thick layer of purple moss.

Before they both fell asleep Skirk asked one more question.

She turned her head towards him. “If going home meant losing more of yourself, could you do it?”

Ajax looked back at her. “Yes. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do. Whatever it takes.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

@crisantemu really helped bring this story to life uwu <3

#childe #genshin tartagalia #skirk #ficlet #angst

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tastes-like-ciel · 6 years

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17 for firestorm please :3

This was fun tbh lol

17. “Stop it! It tickles!”

Yusaku presses a hand against his side and doubles over, wincing, as he tries to steady himself against the wall with his other hand. His school bag is slumped over onto the ground and all its contents (his dummy deck, some pamphlets from the Duel Club, and his school tablet) are scattered across the classroom floor. It’s a mess and he can’t even try to pretend his side doesn’t hurt something awful.

Upon class ending, Yusaku had stood up and began gathering his things so he could leave before anyone could stop him. He planned on meeting up with Takeru somewhere so they could have lunch together, but while attempting to step away from his desk, Shima Naoki (a troublesome classmate of his and the one he was trying to distance himself from to begin with) tried to barrel his way past, only to end up accidentally shoving Yusaku straight into the sharp edge of a desk.

He just knows there’s going to be an ugly bruise there by the end of the day.

“Oh fu–hey, Fujiki? You okay?”

Yusaku opens his eyes to stare up at Shima’s guilty face. With them still narrowed in pain, his look comes off as a rather fierce glare and Shima instinctually shrinks away from it. Yusaku doesn’t bother trying to clarify.

“Shit, man, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to run into you!”

Yusaku knows that. Shima can be somewhat of a pain at times (especially when it concerns Playmaker or Duel Club activities), but he doesn’t go around throwing people into desks because he wants to. If there’s any points in Shima’s favor, it’s that he’s not a bully. At least not intentionally.

“I’m…fine.” Yusaku says, voice tight and not very convincing. His side aches and he very much would like to just curl up and lie down for a while. “I’ll, I’ll be fine. Just–”

“Yusaku?!”

Yusaku blinks up at the sound of his name and sees Takeru rushing through the doorway, a frown on his lips and worry shining in his eyes. He must have come to meet him in the hallway, like he usually does. How long has Yusaku been leaning against the wall exactly?

Takeru rushes to his side and lets his own bag drop to the floor. Then his hands hover over Yusaku, uncertainty apparent, and he bites down on his lip and makes some little noise as his gaze falls to where Yusaku’s hand is gripping his side.

“What happened?” he asks, voice a bit panicked. He settles for placing his hands atop Yusaku’s shoulders and lets one tentatively trail down Yusaku’s arm and to the hand clutching his side. “Did someone–”

“I didn’t mean to, I swear!” Shima defends.

Takeru turns his head Shima’s way, a confused look on his face but suspicion evident. His eyes narrow a bit and then his mouth starts to open–

“It was an accident.” Yusaku says, defusing the situation before it can even begin. Takeru is kind, but he has quite the temper and is the type to hit first and ask questions later. Shima owes him now. “I just hit a desk.”

“Yikes.” Takeru turns back to him and rubs his shoulder gently. His voice dips into something a little softer. “I’ll take you to see the nurse. Can you walk? I can–”

No. No. They weren’t about to do this.

“Don’t you dare carry me through this school or I’ll disown you.”

Takeru snorts and offers Yusaku a too-bright smile and a little shoulder squeeze. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But I can still escort you there and, you know, make sure you don’t faint? Come on. Let’s go while everyone is busy with lunch. I’ll come back for our stuff later.”

Honestly, Yusaku thinks he’ll be fine (aside from having a nasty bruise form), but he really would like to lie down. The infirmary tends to be nice and quiet during all hours of the day. If nothing else, maybe he can have a decent nap, so long as Takeru remains nearby. So he merely nods and Takeru moves to hold a hand at his back to keep him steady. His other, he uses to wave at Shima.

“I got this. See you later.”

-x-x-

When they reach the infirmary, it’s blissfully empty, which Yusaku is very grateful for. The nurse must be out to lunch. That’ll save him an explanation as to why he had to be escorted here, at least.

“Looks like we have the room to ourselves.” Takeru muses and offers Yusaku a grin when their eyes meet. “Guess this means I get to be your nurse?”

Yusaku hits his shoulder with a weak slap and earns a laugh in return.

“I’ll be fine.” he insists and winces again when he shifts on his feet. “I’d…just like to lie down for a few minutes.”

He spots a secluded bed near the corner of the room and makes a beeline for it, careful not to hit anything else on his way there. Takeru follows along after him, smile still on his lips but eyebrows knit in concern.

“At least let me look at it.” Takeru says and although he’s trying not to sound worried, he does. A lot. Enough to make Yusaku feel guilty. “I promise I won’t poke you or anything. I’ll be super gentle. Promise!”

Yusaku takes a seat on the side of the bed and eyes Takeru quietly, weighing his options. On one hand, he knows he’ll be fine, eventually. He’s had far worse done to him in the past. A bruised side is nothing in comparison to months of torture and starvation and what feels like a lifetime of loneliness. But on the other, he knows Takeru will be upset with him for not taking care of it and in the grand scheme of things, Takeru being upset wins out over Yusaku’s disinterest in his own health.

So he sighs and carefully starts to remove his school blazer.

“Alright, but this really isn’t necessary…”

Takeru takes a seat beside him, eyes softening and grin widening. “I know, but thanks.”

Yusaku shakes his head, lips twitching, almost turning up into something fond. “I should be the one thanking you honestly…”

When the blazer is off and a few buttons to Yusaku’s dress shirt are undone, Takeru holds up part of the shirt and inspects Yusaku’s side with a pinch to his expression and a twist to his lips.

“Yikes.” he says with a hiss. He reaches out to trail his fingers over Yusaku’s side as gently as he can. “This is going to be a really nasty bruise. You sure you didn’t crack a rib or something?”

Fingers brush over his ribs and Yusaku jumps and makes an odd face but manages to shake his head.

“I-I…no. It’s fine.”

His voice sounds odd too and Takeru raises an eyebrow at him.

“You okay? You sound a little weird.” Takeru’s gaze returns to his side and his fingers move again, making Yusaku squirm. “Did I touch something I shouldn’t have? It shouldn’t hurt. Don’t squirm so mu–”

“I’m fine.” Yusaku’s answer comes a little higher and more forcefully than he intends and he swats Takeru’s hands away with a huff. “It’s–I’ll be fine. Don’t worry so much.”

Takeru squints at him, takes a moment to think, and then blinks, eyes glossy with realization.

“Ooohh, I get it! You’re ti–”

“Shut up.”

Takeru chuckles good naturedly. “Yusaku, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Lots of people are. It’s normal!”

“I’m not having this conversation with you.” Yusaku turns away from him and starts buttoning up his shirt. He probably wouldn’t mind so much with Takeru, but if he can help it, he’d rather just not. “It’s si–hey!”

Takeru sneakily pokes his fingers into Yusaku’s other side, near his hip, and keeps them there with a few wiggles. A mischievous smile replaces his grin and Yusaku tries but he can’t really get away.

“Takeru, s-stop it! That–” Something that sounds suspiciously like a tiny giggle slips out his mouth and Takeru is fascinated by it. “T-Takeru, if you don’t sto–”

Yusaku manages to grab hold of a pillow and promptly whacks Takeru with it. Multiple times.

“Aaahh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Takeru sounds nothing of the sort. In fact, he’s laughing. The jerk. “Mercy! I give!, I give!”

Yusaku huffs at him and almost tries to hit him again when arms circle his waist. Takeru doesn’t try anything again and he’s also mindful not to mash into his bruise. A little kiss is pressed to his temple in apology.

“Forgive me?”

…maybe. Takeru meant no harm. He’s just the playful sort. So, he supposes he can do that, just this once.

“No.” he says anyway and Takeru whines.

#ask prompts #Firestormshipping #crisantemu #YuGiOh VRAINS #VRAINS #Sery writes a thing #long post

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