#zuo ran angst
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
rubiedoobiedoo · 18 days ago
Text
"IS THIS LOVE?"
Pairing: Artem Wing x oc
Genre: angst 💞
Word count: 1410
💌How much longer did Artem think Elaine would stay silent and go along with his lack of action for fear of doing something wrong? Even the most voluminous jar has its capacity.💌
Tumblr media
Setting: Artem's office
She had hated how he kept putting her down. What made it worse was that he always did it unknowingly.
They had known each other since their university years. And that hurt her even more. Almost 10 years together and yet, she always faltered when he opened his mouth to placate her with his sweet words.
"It is your problem, Elaine. Why should I keep bothering with your 'insecurity issues' when my words clearly don't console you? You can't expect me to neglect Rosa for you." Artem spoke, not even looking up from the paper he was highlighting.
She felt neglected, 'Does he not even care enough to look up at me when he is speaking?' She wanted to cry, laugh, yell and scream, thrash around his room like a mad woman. But she held it in.
"You know I don't mean that. But can't you just try and see it from my-" She tried to press on, wishing he would look up... at least once.
"No, no I can't. I have been hearing about this ever since she came to the office. So what? I had to cancel some dates. I had to cancel  a few plans. You have done it too, it isn't any different. But you just want to create a big deal out of it, don't you?" He cut her off, his voice as calm as ever. He too, was troubled with her.
They both knew a conversation on this topic was important. He knew that he wasn't doing right by not looking at her while they were arguing. But he couldn't bring himself to look at her. If he did, he would break down. Her face was twisted, the kind that made him worry about their relationship. But he knew, he very much did, that she wasn't in the right in this argument. And he was tired of their constant arguments. 
"I have, yes." She admitted, "I have, in the past, cancelled dates as much as you. But I do inform you beforehand, do I not?" She questioned him, walking forward. "And you know the problem isn't about cancelling dates. Such things are unavoidable in our lines of work. I would never hold it against you."
"Then, what is it?" His voice was stern as he stared at the papers in his hand The words weren't making sense to him anymore, he sighed.
"You did not inform me beforehand that you would cancel, Artem! You can't just throw that sort of information to my face after I am already at your doorstep, or when the waiters are feeling too sorry for me to even move around my table." She was tired, frustrated and most of all, embarrassed.
"But I did tell you, didn't I? So your argument that I cancelled the date without telling you beforehand is incorrect."
She tried to stop the twitching in her fingers, she wanted to let her frustrations lose. 'I can't punch him here, I would be risking a lawsuit.'  "Are we court, Mr. Attorney?" she saw him frown and weirdly enough, this time she didn't feel anything. 
"You know I didn't mean it like that  Elaine." He trailed off, but still refused to look at her.
"But I did. I meant everything I said and implied and I think we should-" She was cut off by him grabbing her hands and staring straight at her eyes.
"We are not breaking up." His voice was filled with hurt and her eyes immediately softened.
"I wasn't about to say that." She freed her hands from his grasp. "I was about to ask you for a break."
"It's the same thing, Elaine." He was desperate now. He was aware that if they took a break, it could quite truly be the catalyst to a break-up.
"You are treating me like I am your opposition in court again." She responded "With that condescending tone... and you know what? Maybe I am wrong and they are the same, but would that be so bad?"
"Elaine." He walked to her now, she was seated in front of him. "I do not treat you-"
"You do!" She cut him off, "And news flash dude, I am the same age as you." She put on an expression of faux surprise, "Mind blowing, isn't it?"
"You are acting like a child."
"Am I? I wasn't aware." She replied sarcastically, "But I  think we are done here, wouldn't you say the same, Mr.?"
"Elaine." His voice was stern, "We are not done here, we have not even reached a conclusion. And I do not agree with your proposal."
"You do not agree? Who would've thought." She walked towards his table now and picked up a book, 'Fading Love'. "Why do you have this on your table anyway?'
"You gave it to me to read." he walked towards her again and took a closer look at the book.
"What's the book about?" She quizzed him, hiding the book behind her.
"Elaine." He tried to grab the book from her but she moved behind his desk in time.
"What, Elaine? I am pretty sure when I read it, it wasn't about me." She felt safe behind the desk.
"Fading love is about a love that has faded..."
"Sure-"
"And it is about a married couple. They start to see each other less and less... and their marriage is not safe anymore." He sighed, he knew she would be using this against him now.
"Doesn't this remind you of someone? Or specifically, a couple we both know very well?" She asked him.
"No. No it doesn't." He knew her point but he did not want to agree with her.
"I know you do, Artem. You are not dumb. You know what I'm implying. This book is about future us!"
"It's not about future us. We are better than them." He argued.
"Better? How are we better? The only difference between us and the couple in the book is that their separation will be more difficult with all the legal stuff. But for us? There won't be any such thing. We can both just say 'bye', walk away and never look back." She was huffing after she poured out all her anger and annoyance.
"Don't say that, Els.. We are great together." He pleaded with her.
"Great? Yes.. Maybe in the past we were great but I don't see how that is possible anymore, Artem. Clearly you don't care for my feelings."
"I do care. There is no one else I care for more than you." He grabbed her hands and held on to them, tracing light circles atop.
"No.. no, you are wrong, Artem. I don't know if its Rosa you care more for or your reputation but I can assure you that am not at the top of your priority list. stop-I already know what you want to ask me. You want to know now I am so sure of this right? Well, Mr. Attorney, I guess you have trained me well because I can list out multiple counts of neglect. If you need, I can submit the report to the judge."
"Just because I forgot to inform you of a few dates?" Artem sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"Just a few dates?! I know that you know me well enough to know that I would not have this reaction had it been just your usual lack of planning skills. But NO! It is not just that. This is for the humiliation, embarrassment and pain you've caused me just for some rendezvous with her!"
She started to make her move towards the door of his office again when he grabbed her and spun her around again to face him. " You can't just fault the poor innocent girl for a relationship already on a rocky tract..."
She winced in pain and shock as she processed his words, " A relationship already on a rocky tract... Was that how you saw us, Artem? I hope you are glad then, you won't have to trudge along this path anymore. Go to whatever smooth sailing path you compared our relationship with." She removed his hands from her shoulder, before closing the door she turned around to look at his downcast gaze,"You claim that I am faulting a 'poor innocent girl', but my love, I am not. I place the blame only on the 'guilty man I thought I was in a steady relationship with.' "
1 note · View note
emjiajia · 1 year ago
Text
"We rip apart our newspapers and turn them into guns."
Tumblr media
Something I wanted to draw after re-reading Day and Night;; Everytime I think about that video of young Artem some part of my heart breaks a little😭😭😭
169 notes · View notes
iceysghost · 3 years ago
Note
Hi! I was wondering if you could do an Artem Wing TURQUOISE fic? I'm in the mood for some angst, if you don't mind. :)
TURQUOISE 》 health, tranquility, emotional protection
◇ The sky's the color of your hospital dress, and he's the wind that rushes through the air and makes you feel alright.
Tumblr media
COLORS OF ROMANCE
Artem Wing x Female! Reader
Word Count: 1,223 Words
Trigger/Content Warning: mental breakdown, crying, hospitals, mentions of physical injury (bones cracking, wounds, minimal cursing
Tumblr media
He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose you. He couldn’t imagine how grey it would feel, how blurred and hazy his vision would be. But as your body cracked and blood rushed out of your wounds, he got a taste of what it would feel like. He struggled to see through his tears, and he struggled to see himself in the mirror without thinking that this was the man who hurt you, this was the reason you almost died; he, ARTEM WING, was to blame for your injury.
After work, he took the same flowers, carried the same “get well soon” balloon, and drove the same car to the same hospital. But he couldn’t muster up the courage to see you, to be next to you, to talk to you.
The flowers started to wither, and the balloon deflated and wouldn’t fly as high as it used to. He knew he was taking a long time to visit you, but his gifts weren't cooperating, and it only screamed at him more to get going and not be a pussy.
So, after cutting a case short and taking deep breaths, he got into his car, bought a new bouquet and new balloon, and decided that today would be the day.
Tumblr media
As he walked through the hospital hallways, he was eyed by nurses passing by and patients with IV stands and wheelchairs. It made his skin crawl, thinking that maybe they sensed his nerves, maybe they knew that something was wrong with him.
He looked up at the room numbers. 417, 418, 419—
Something crashed into him and he nearly toppled over. Flashes of white, beige, red, silver, his hand sprawls out and lets go of the string, he steadies himself and—
"I didn't think I'd ever see you here, Mr. Wing."
Vyn, somewhat of a sworn enemy, stared him down with a grave look. Artem froze.
Dr. Richter eyed the light pink balloon, now in his left hand. "Nice balloon you have here."
The tension seemed to catch the eyes of even more passersby, who started to whisper among each other. Artem's heart sank to his stomach. This was another reason for him to feel guilt, another person who believed that he was to blame, the one thing that proved that it wasn't all inside of his head.
Vyn handed the balloon to him slowly. Artem trembled and held the string tightly.
"Hold onto it tighter next time," Vyn said condescendingly.
"I'll make sure to." Artem rushed quickly behind him and brisked to the right room.
Tumblr media
He opened the door slowly. There you were, sleeping, with a peaceful look on your face. Your room was already decorated with gifts; drawings, letters, different bouquets of flowers in white, pink, and green, and not a single balloon in sight. Artem doubted himself. Maybe it's too dorky.
His footsteps were quiet, gentle; he placed the bouquet on your bedside, tied the balloon to your bed, and took a seat.
This was all his doing, it was his fault, his fault he couldn't protect you. She's going to hate me, he thought, I'm such a terrible partner.
He held your hand, which had an IV hose attached. Your warmth was something he craved, something that he wished to feel in a murky world, but he was afraid that you wouldn't appreciate him wanting to be with you.
Your eyes slowly opened. "Ar…tem?"
His breath hitched and he swallowed. This was it.
"Yes, it's me, [Name]."
"Where have you been?"
"You were—waiting for me?"
Artem was in shock. You were waiting for him, you wanted him to visit, he got it all wrong.
"I'm so glad you're here." You held his hand tighter.
"I'm sorry I didn't come right away, I just thought you'd be mad at me," he mumbled.
"Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you?" you laughed. Artem took a deep breath.
"I thought you'd be mad at me because I was the one who failed to protect you."
Your eyebrows furrowed. "This…isn't your fault. Don't think about it that way."
"Oh, and don't say it's all in my head. I mean, there's obviously someone who thinks the same way as I do—"
You snapped out of your trance and sat up. "Who's blaming you for it?"
He reached his hands out to hold you down by the shoulders. "It's…no one. Just Vyn. Whom I came across in the hallway. And maybe the whole NXX."
"They WHAT?!" You were ready to confront these bad boys and tell them that they were wrong, and mean, and unjustified for blaming Artem.
"Calm down, please, you're still hurt. It's nothing for you to worry about."
"Nothing for me to—they're wrong! You did everything you could, you were a great partner, you were amazing."
"I was…amazing?"
"Yes, you were, Artem."
He bit the inside of his mouth. All this time, he thought he was in the wrong, but you had to believe otherwise.
"I'm sorry, [Name], please just calm down. I just really thought you hated me, so I didn't visit, and I'm sorry. Sorry, I'm sorry."
Sorry, sorry, sorry, over and over again, he repeated in his mind and under his breath. You couldn't help but feel bad for him.
"Don't be sorry," you said earnestly, but your voice started to weaken. "I…really, really missed you."
He moved his chair closer to you and held both of your hands. You reached one hand up to his face and cupped his cheek. He leaned his forehead into yours, and you could see his eyes so clearly. They were blue, a deep blue, like the night sky, the sea, the depths of a sad heart. Both in silence, you blinked, and rubbed each others' hands, and smiled, and spent a few moments with nothing but each other.
"You know, Artem, this whole time I was blaming myself. I thought I was too weak for you. But I guess that's just what anyone thinks," you whispered. His deep blue eyes widened.
"The both of us felt sad, so we assumed that we were to blame. That's wrong, that's so wrong. And I want to get over that with you."
Artem hummed quietly. He takes a moment to listen to your breathing and mutters:
"I thought I lost you."
"I thought I lost me too." you whisper back.
No matter how many times other people visited, this was what you needed; the support, the comfort of none other than Artem. 
You fought back your tears, but they ran down, down, like raindrops, and you were choked by your own breathing. He cried a subdued cry alongside you, squeezing your hand gently, foreheads still stuck together.
His other hand, still cupping your face, moved away slightly. You felt this pressure on your cheek: a kiss, one long, genuine kiss, and shorter kisses to wipe away the tears that endlessly graced your face.
"I won't blame myself for everything, [Name], but if I must take the blame to protect you, to save you…" he spoke, slowly, deeply, savoring his words:
"I'd take the blame for you anytime."
Your eyes flit away from his for a split second, to your side, the side of your bed.
"You know, Artem, I must say…"
"You must…say?"
"I really like the balloon. It's cute."
Tumblr media
All works belong to @iceysghost on Tumblr. Reblogs and shares are allowed. Do not repost on other social media platforms without permission. Do not reproduce or plagiarize any part of my works in any shape or form.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
164 notes · View notes
lavynrose · 3 years ago
Note
nxx boys when fem!reader almost dies during childbirth? i’m in the mood for angst with a happy ending
ANON I'M ALSO IN THE MOOD >:) LET'S GO
ToT men when their S/O almost dies during childbirth pt. 1
headcanons + scenarios
character/s: Artem Wing, Luke Pearce
pronouns: she/her
warning/s: mentions of death, blood, pregnancy, childbirth, angst
notes: i did a lot of research as idk much abt childbirth beforehand, but i really enjoyed writing this. it took every ounce of my willpower not to give this a tragic turn SGSJHSJS i reminded myself over and over "anon wants a happy ending, anon wants a happy ending" so here u go
You can find Marius and Vyn's parts here. comments and rbs are appreciated <3
masterlist
Tumblr media
No matter how busy work had been at the firm, Artem never once made you feel neglected during the whole course of your pregnancy
He would check on you after every hour whenever he's at work, asking you what you're feeling, or if there were sudden signs that signal your labor
At this point he might as well not be bothering with paperworks with how his thoughts always fly to you and your well-being
Especially now that you're nearing your due date
He was so worried that he issued you a maternity leave even if you're being stubborn about it, he can't risk any danger when it comes you and the child
A week before your child is due, he also took a leave to keep an eye on his soon-to-be family. He doesn't want you to do anything on your own, always doting on you every step of the way
He's been making sure that everything would go smoothly. So, what could go wrong?
Tumblr media
Artem gently placed the side of his head on your belly, feeling the little guy's kicks that's currently causing the ache on your abdomen as the rays of sunlight coming through the window kissed his blithe features. The soft breeze of the wind hits your face with a lighthearted caress, in contrast to the painful contractions that had gradually showed itself since last week.
"Are you feeling a little better?" He gazed at your eyes, searching for any signs of discomfort.
You flashed a languid smile, "It throbs harder everyday, but I can manage," You rubbed your hand on your belly, the other smoothing Artem's hair, "He keeps getter bigger," You chuckled, "We'll meet him soon."
Artem lifted his head up and beamed beside you on the bed, "Yes, soon. I'm excited as you are, love," He placed his hand on the back of your head to pull you closer, "I can't wait to raise this family with you. I promise to be the best husband and dad you two could ever ask for." He murmured on your hair, as he took a breath to take in your scent, "I wonder who he'll look like?"
You were about to coo at him when you felt something burst on your nether regions, "Artem!" you felt a gush of water and a trickle of blood down your legs, wetting the sheets beneath you, "The sac has ruptured," You panted rapidly, the sharp ache on your back intensifying, "Ah!" you yelped, the contractions keep tightening on your stomach.
Realization hit you when your eyes saw red staining the bed, "Artem, Why is there blood? Isn't this supposed to be just water?" You panicked as you clung to Artem. Your eyes widened as disheartening thoughts fill your head, What will happen to the baby?
With precise movements to not hurt you any further, Artem lifted you up, his arms on your shoulder and at the back of your knee, "It's going to be alright, Y/N. Let's get you to the hospital." He reassured you even when you can see panic dancing full-circle in his cerulean eyes. He's terrified.
The trip to the hospital in Artem's car was full of comforting whispers and words of reassurance, he didn't know if it was effective, because he was too focused on keeping his calm and to remain logical. He then called the hospital's number so they can immediately attend to you once you arrived.
As soon as Artem stepped foot inside the hospital he quickly alerted the nurses about your situation, they hurriedly complied and immediately set you up on the delivery room.
While all of these are taking place, you can't shake up the thought that's wallowing in your head, Is my son okay? You can't even ask these words out loud, the contractions in your uterus is too excruciating to bear, eliciting a wail from you every minute or so. Artem squeezing your hands for comfort the whole time.
After some moments, the doctor was finished assessing your situation. With gritted teeth, he announced to everyone in the room in full volume, "Cesarean section. Everyone gather up!" Upon hearing this, the nurses became even more alert as they hurriedly went on to get instruments that you barely recognize.
Artem perked up from the doctors words. Cesarean? Then he sked the question that's been eating up both your sanity, "What's wrong?" His brows furrowed, "Will they be alright?"
As he anxiously waits for the doctor's response, the nurses kept murmuring alerted words to each other, implying that what had happened to you isn't normal, stressing Artem out even more.
"Sir, let's take this outside. We're going to perform a surgery, it's preferable for you to be in the lobby."
Artem casted a look towards your worn out body, eyes completely showing panic, yet he complied and went outside.
"Sir," The doctor called firmly, "It appeared as though her placenta had been seperated from her uterus. This is called placental abruption, and may cause shock if left untreated." The doctor calmly replied as the nurses kept moving in a speed Artem didn't know possible.
What?
His blood ran cold.
"Are you..." He trailed off, "Are you saying she'll die?" Artem's words came flying out of his mouth before he could even think. His blue orbs gaping at your pale form in great devastation through the room's window, his voice cracking.
"No- sir. I'm saying that's a possibility."
"She's still bleeding so much..." Running his hands on his hair, he gaped at red pooling under your form in horror. Everything is red. Your once clean clothes are now bathed in your own blood.
"Yes, we will perform transfusions to prevent blood loss and greater complications. Please calm down, sir. I need to go now."
Alright. Calm down. Artem closed his eyelids, and took a deep breath, Your wife and son might die in front of your eyes, but calm down. Trust the professionals. He tried to convince himself, but the red surrounding you not leaving his mind.
"Please. Please save her." He begs with a crack in his voice, eyes distressed as the situation crashed down on him like a ton of bricks, with trembling hands he whispered, "I love them than my own life." He clenched his chest with his hand, he could kneel right now if he has to. "I don't think I can take it if i ever lose one, or both of them."
The doctor turned to open the door, "Will do, sir." Those words did nothing to ease the grief that's piling up in Artem's heart. His wife and his son, the two people he swore to protect, seems so far away.
His angel hasn't even been born yet. Artem felt hopeless as he leaned on the wall, mind racing. You could die and all he can do is watch. And wait. Wait until he hears either the news of the surgery's success or your impending death.
Head in hands, Artem waited. Eyes staring blankly on the floor.
His sense of reality is slipping away by the moment. Yet he knows he needs to remain strong for his family's sake. He's the father, after all.
So he kept waiting. Without letting the dam break, he waited.
What had gone wrong? He kept pulling out his hair, Am I not cautious enough? He let out a huff as he kept tapping his foot in exasperation.
The hours ticked, the hues of the sky began to change, people began coming back and forth, and he still waited.
After for what seemed like eternity, the door opened.
Faster than lightning, Artem stood before the doctor and desperately searched their face for signs if you had lived or not, "How is the operation?" voice raspy from the lump in his troat, Artem swallowed in anticipation.
"Sir," The doctor grinned, and Artem felt hope spark like fireworks in his whole being, "They're both alive and well."
His once sullen eyes soften, and a smile of relief washes over him in waves, "I owe you their life." He was truly thankful. You and his child are alive. He can be at peace now.
"No need sir, it's part of my job," The doctor then gestured inside, "you can come in now. I'm sure you're the one they need the most."
They. Artem's eyes lit up at the word.
Artem peeked at the door, his eyes meeting your exhausted ones, an IV line attached to you, giving you life, "Look, Artem..." you were holding the baby to your chest, even amidst your tired disposition, you smiled with fondness at the newborn.
Seeing this sight made Artem's heart swell beautifully, "Love of my life," he made his way to your side and gently kissed your forehead, you felt his utter relief and sweetness in his warm kiss alone, "I'm so glad the two of you are alive." He smiled as he sat at the chair just beside your bed.
"You should rest," The doctor intercepted, "You can let your husband carry your son in the meantime."
"Of course," You beamed as you handed Artem the little bundle of joy, "Artem, our baby," You grinned so wide your cheeks were going to burst, "I'm just so happy right now, I," You can't control the emotions washing over you when you realized that this is it, a family with Artem, "I love you so much Artem." You gazed at him, eyes beginning to feel droppy, you reached out to his face to rub circles on his cheeks.
"Stay with me forever?" You blurted out in the heat of the moment, but you didn't mind. You truly wanted to stay forever with Artem.
From your words, Artem felt tears pooling his eyes. He's not an emotional person per se, he never was - but from what had happened, he can't help but to cherish this moment.
What did he do to deserve you? "You didn't have to ask. I'll stay with you forever no matter what." As he said those words, your eyelids started to get heavy, a peaceful slumber dawning on you.
"She lost 4 liters of blood." The doctor declared as he adjusted the instruments around you.
Artem's eyes were as wide as saucers.
WHAT THE FUCK?
Now Artem isn't one to curse - but hearing straight from the doctor's mouth how much you suffered, he couldn't stop himself from feeling so helpless.
You struggled alone back there.
In his eyes, you're the bravest person in the world right now. More than pity, more than the sorrow he feels, he admires you.
You had always been admirable.
"I love you... I love you so much my love..." As he watched your unconscious body breath in and out, clearly showing signs of life.
Knowing that he can feel your warmth, that he can feel that you're still here with him when he thought you would slip away, he felt like the luckiest man in the world.
He let the tears he had been holding back for so long spill out to his cheeks as he looked at his little angel, his beloved child, in his arms. His eyes traveled the baby's face, seeing your sacrifices in the delicate features.
"I'm so glad..." He's going to make sure to show all of his love possible to his child, as he kissed his forehead filled with promises of the future.
Tumblr media
He's the happiest guy on earth when he first heard that you were pregnant
HE'S GOING TO BE A DAD!?!?
WAIT AND THEY'RE TWINS!?!?
LITTLE WATSONS ARE GOING TO BE RUNNING AROUND REAL SOON!?!?
This is a VERY important event for him
Naturally he's going to be extra caring of you, well, he has always been a caring person but he's taking it to another level rn
He even began learning to cook more healthy food for you! He'll really do anything for you and the baby
Even if his time is short, he wants to do everything he can for you to make it count
"I'm gonna live my life like everyday's the last" type of shi :(((
He has loved you all his life and always will. even in his remaining days, he would still pour all of that love to you, unchanging
The both of you are trying your best, and he knows he's being overprotective so he didn't think that something so life-threatening would happen to you and his lil watsons
Tumblr media
You woke up in cold sweat as the dim light of the room filled your vision, your body feels like it's burning up. Hands instinctively flying to your forehead, you grimaced at the sudden spike of heat. You have a fever.
While pregnant.
Your mind reeled, it was almost your due date, what are the chances of having a fever almost before labor? Despite your increasing worry, and the throbbing headache that makes you just want to lay in bed, you still have half the mind to take care of yourself.
Even with weakened arms, you managed to push yourself up the bed, groaning at the increasing pounding in your head.
You tilted your head to the side to be met by a dozing Luke. His ginger locks were sprawled on his pillow, soft snores emanating from his parted lips, his shirt hiked up high enough to reveal his muscled stomach as he slept like a log.
You find yourself giggling through the various pains you feel throughout your body. He just looks so adorable.
After a few moments, you helped yourself up off the bed, careful not to make extra movements as not to wake Luke. He had been working on a lot of cases lately, you didn't want to disturb his awaited rest.
Your wandering feet made it's way to the kitchen, the cold floor hitting your heated skin. You walk with wobbly steps, almost stumbling if not for the support of the walls your hands had found it's way to, the baby bump kept giving you contractions, adding to the flames of pain that your head permeated.
You got yourself a glass of water, the liquid felt a little dry on your mouth, you were so thirsty.
Halfway through the drink, you felt a particular sharp pain on your abdomen that shook your entire core, "AHHHHHH!" You lost your grip on the glass, it's broken pieces now scattered across the floor.
"Y/N!" as soon as your scream evaporated in the air, you saw Luke rushing towards you like his life depended on it. Bed hair and all, fast reflexes hauled you into an embrace, his eyes scanned your body for any injuries, hues widening when he felt your heat on his bare arms, "Shit, you have a fever," He tugged at your arm gently, "we should get you checked up."
You followed him in a haze, "I'm worried luke," You cringed, the pain coming in shorter intervals, "I'm not suposed to have a fever. What if this affects the baby? Luke, we could lose them! "
"Shhhh," He cupped your cheeks and placed a chaste kiss on your lips, "Relax, love. I'll make sure you're safe alright? The three of you." With furrowed browns, and a stern expression that contradicted his words, he began carrying you bridal style.
When you got to the hospital Luke was all shouting, amidst the excruciating pain that your whole body is feeling you heard him scream a "Please help us!"
As if on cue, almost every nurse present in the lobby dropped what they were doing and rushed to get a stretcher to guide you to the delivery room.
"I have a fever." You immediately choked out as soon as the doctor arrived in the room. The nurses looked at each other. Realizing your situation, the doctor quickly ordered the nurses to turn on the ultrasound to examine what had gone wrong.
After some minutes, the doctor's brows furrowed before her eyes widened in apprehension, "Set up FHR monitoring, now!" Her voice echoed loudly throughout the four corners of the room, making everyone move at a speed you could only pinpoint as alarmed, "This is a fetal distress case, everyone be alert! " Some of the nurses' heads turned to the monitor, upon seeing what's happening inside you, they let out a troubled gasp.
Luke was bewildered, the nurses were all shuffling in frenzy, screams spilling out of their mouths as they ordered the other what to do.
Luke swallowed the lump in his throat, the atmosphere screamed of danger and seriousness, it was making his heart dishearted with every beat.
"Sir, we need you to go outside. An operation is about to commence." A nurse suddenly said from beside him. "I'll explain the situation outside."
Luke casted a glance on your weakened state, your breathing rapid as you pant, you were clutching on your stomach as you hiss in pain every now and then. "Y/N. You'll be alright." He cupped the side of your face, "You're strong." You smiled at his words, and that's all he needed to see before leaving you to go outside.
"So," Luke crossed his arms, unspoken panic in his eyes, "What happened?"
The nurse looked at him straight in the eyes as she declared, "The monitor showed us what was happening to your children inside, the umbilical cords were wrapped around their necks. This might cause asphyxia, they could be pronounced as stillbirth from suffocation."
His crossed arms began to loosen, falling to his sides limply, "What?" He gaped. They could what?
"Both the mother and child are at dangerous risk." She pressed her lips tightly, "They could lose their lives."
What?
The doctor's words reached his ears with a pang, he suddenly can't speak, it felt like someone had stabbed him in the back.
All he felt at that moment was cold.
He was silent for a few moments, eyes cast down, shadows hovering his face, his eyes began to water but he held everything back in with a sniffle, pressing the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
"Then," He choked out, fighting back a sob, "Can you save them? The three of them?" His lips trembled as a heavy lump formed in his throat, unable to swallow it, he forced his words out of his blocked windpipe, "My most precious people? "
"You can count on us," The nurse gave him an encouraging smile, "We will perform a cesarean section so the babies can be safely let out to breath," She turned to get back to the delivery room, "We ask for your patience, sir. Be strong for your wife."
Still sniffling, he replied with a forced smile, "Of course." He says that, but no one knows how much he wanted to break down right now. The thought of you and your children dying first before him never crossed his mind before.
But now that the situation presented itself before him, he can't help but laugh.
So this is how it feels when you're about to lose a loved one, huh.
Realizing what he just thought, he quickly slapped his cheeks, They won't die. Y/N is strong. Stronger than I give her credit for.
He knows he should have faith, but the unknown just scares him so much. He thinks about your eyes filled with light. Alive. Shining brightly at him when he needs it the most.
But now, as his mind flashed images of your bedridden form, the possibily of life leaving your body filled his senses. You laying there cold, you laying there dead. Along with his beloved children.
He can't take it.
He just sat there as the quiet midnight hours pass by, the eerie and dead silence of the night adding up to his cruel thoughts, as he gritted on his fingernails.
He can hear the panicked shouting of the doctors inside the room, he can't help but to think what you're feeling right now. Is it painful? Can you bear it?
He just wants to carry your burdens, if only he's the one who could experience this, it wouldn't be so bad. As long as you weren't hurting, that's always enough for him. You're the one he had always longed to have a future with, please do not take this away from me.
He silently wished for your well-being the whole time he was waiting. After for what seemed like an eternity, the doctor finally came out, her lips turned up in a smile, "Operation success, Sir. You can go inside now."
Luke's expression turned into a 180, from sullen eyes to smile as bright as the sun, with blush coating his cheeks he said enthusiastically, "Thank you so much, doc!"
Like a child, he marched up to you, almost enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug, but he stopped himself when he realized it'll do more harm than good.
As he sat on the chair beside your bed, he can't help but praise you for being so strong, "You did well, my watson." He rubbed sooting circles on your cheeks, making you smile.
"I was scared," you confessed, "I saw how the umbilical cords were wrapped on our babies' necks." You looked at Luke with shaking eyes, "I thought it was all over for me."
"Hey," Luke gave you a peck on the cheeks, "I'm here. I won't leave you alone to deal with all of this." He then moved his warm lips to yours and pressed a firm kiss, "Your burden is my burden. Let's be strong together for our children, Y/N." You smiled as you pecked him on the lips back.
"Here they are! Little cuties!" Two nurses approached the two of you, your bundle of joys in hand.
"This one's the boy," The nurse handed him to Luke, "This one's the girl." You wrapped your arms around your baby in a warm embrace, forgetting all the pain that you fekt earlier when you saw thei faces.
"Whoa!" Luke blushed as he cradled mini Luke in his strong arms, "He's so cuuuute!" Luke gushed with sparkle in his eyes as he started humming a song for the baby, "I know you'll be handsome, but please don't be a heartbreaker one day!" Luke made a stern face on the innocent boy, making you chuckle with delight.
Not for long, the two of you decided to swap the babies you're carrying, the little girl now in Luke's arms.
"Y/N. You resemble her." He beamed at you, "She's so cuuuute!" He gushed again and you let out a snort. Looking at him, your minds drift to the distant future filled with moments like these.
Luke continued cradling the baby with tenderness, "This is the best day of-"
"Luke, I love you so much." You suddenly blurted out, "You're my other half, I don't know what I'd do without you. Thank you for always being here." You gazed at him lovingly, "I love you so much..."
Heat flared his cheeks but he mirrored your expression, "Y/N, I love you too. I will do everything I can to protect you. I'll even risk my life if I had to!"
"Please don't. I want you to be alive and happy." You turned to the baby in your arms, taking in his features.
Luke smiled bitterly as he watched the lighthearted scene before him, alive and happy, huh?
I'm sorry Y/N. You'll be heartbroken. He knows it.
Brushing off the negative thoughts, he went on the cherish this moment right here, right now, without worrying about the future.
I'll love you forever, even after death.
Tumblr media
do not repost © lavynrose 08/28/21
1K notes · View notes
2af-afterdark · 2 years ago
Text
Memories Beyond Our Grasp
Tumblr media
Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: GN/M
Fandom: Tears of Themis
Relationships: Artem Wing/MC
Characters: Artem Wing, GN!MC
Additional Tags: GN!MC (you/your), vampires, dubious consent, blood drinking, vampiric control
Summary: There’s a client that shows up all the time, taking others away. When they come back, they look to be completely in bliss. You’ve had enough.
A/N: There is no explanation for this one. I just wanted to.
Word Count: 1739
Tumblr media
You're a bartender, always making drinks and dealing with the endless slew of drunks. Most of them are polite enough since this is a classy bar, but there is one patron in particular that always catches your eye. Brown hair, jewel-blue eyes, well-cut jawline, always in a suit. He always orders the good vodka and rum, but you swear the level in his glass never changes and something about looking at him makes the back of your head hurt.
He looks well put together, like a gentleman, but he's a cad the same as any other. Every day he comes in, you know he's going to end up walking away with someone on his arm; usually in the direction of the restrooms. When they come back, he's just as well put together as ever, but they look like a disheveled mess. It drives you crazy but also makes you insanely jealous. They come back looking so satisfied and barely walking straight and you wonder how well he must be fucking them to leave everyone looking like that. But that is nothing compared to your annoyance at knowing you're going to have to clean up any mess he makes later.
One day, you see him taking someone toward the bathrooms while on your break and you've decided that you've had enough. You let him go into the bathroom with his latest conquest on his arm and wait a few minutes until you're sure they are in a compromising position. Then you barge into the bathroom, practically kicking in the door.
"Get a hotel room if you're going to-"
You can't finish the sentence. The sight that greets you is definitely not what you were expecting. His mouth is sucking at their neck as they lean against the wall, blood coating his lips as they moan beneath him and desperately bury their hands in his hair.
His blue eyes flash at you once he realizes that he's been interrupted. He pulls his fangs away from their neck, letting them go limp and slip into the floor while their eyes glaze over and he stands up straight to draw closer to you.
"Hello there." His voice is like melted chocolate as he speaks, "You're early."
You take a single step back, swallowing hard in your throat, "Sorry. I didn't think- I'll give you some privacy."
You try to turn to leave, but his hands are on you quickly, jerking your head back in his direction by your chin. He forces you to look up at him, "No no. You can stay. I insist."
His eyes flash red and you can feel your legs go weak beneath you. Your pulse quickens and everything suddenly feels warm.
He snaps his fingers and the other person suddenly seems alert, but overlooks the sight of you and him, "You can go back. You don't feel nauseous anymore."
They don't protest, only standing and quickly walking toward the door as if his word was law. It was like watching a zombie go about its businesses.
His hand, still holding onto your chin for control, pulls your face closer to his until you are barely a hair apart once the person is long gone, "It's a bit early, but I could use something sweet for dessert."
The way he presses his lips against yours is so gentle, like he's making sure the fangs that were just buried in that other person's neck don't cut you. Your moan is completely involuntary, along with the way you lean into the kiss almost instinctively.
"Artem..." His name tumbles out as he pulls away to let you breathe and you wonder how you knew it so readily. It must have been from how often you ran his card through the system when he paid for his drinks.
The breathy way you call out his name has his mouth on yours again almost instantly. Meanwhile, his arms are wrapping around you, pulling you close until you are flush against him and able to feel the bulge forming in his pants pressing against your own sex longingly.
"I know," he mutters against your lips before pulling away again, leaving you whimpering for his return. The sides of his mouth curl up into a smile as his red eyes blink again, "Do what comes naturally. I'm yours."
Something inside of you snapped, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and slamming him against the bathroom wall. You knew he was stronger than you, but he let you do it anyway; like he wanted you to. You couldn't explain exactly why, but your body was crying out for you to do this.
You stand in such a way that his thigh rests between your legs and you begin to grind down onto him, letting all the heat in your body gather to one spot. It feels strange but also right to be rubbing yourself against him. Even more so right as he starts to unbutton the top of your shirt so he can leave your neck exposed.
His hand reaches onto your pants, brushing against your hot sex just so he can hear you moan for him again. It was like he knew your body already, his fingers attacking every spot that made you want to hold onto him and never let go.
As he worked, something deep inside of you felt like you should remember this. It was like being touched by a lover for the millionth time. Images danced in your mind of places far away, his hot mouth against yours, and hands exploring every inch of your body; screaming his name for all the world to hear as he wrapped your legs around his waist and buried himself deep inside of you; your name on his lips as he held you down and made love to you with desperation.
There were a thousand first meetings playing over and over again in your head, like a movie script that was constantly being rewritten; each time acted out by you and him. There were enough awkward first dates to make any rational person blush and enough quiet nights to fill a novel with zero rising tension or drama. Sometimes that peace lasted months, sometimes only days.
But there were also memories of finding out things you shouldn't have. Memories of each time you'd walked in on him feeding or he'd gotten too frisky and tried to take a bite out of you; of you either screaming in terror at finding out what he was or holding onto him and telling him you'd accept him no matter what. The entire story was a contradiction.
More than anything, however, was the repeating memory of him staring you in the eyes and telling you that he loved you before waking up not even being able to recall his name or face. It always made your heart hurt after the fact and you had to walk around wondering why.
"How do you like it?" he asks.
"So good," you mutter between breaths, leaning into him as you seek out more. Your instincts should have been telling you to run, but instead you bore your neck to him, trembling as he brought you to your peak.
His fangs sink into your neck, pushing you over the edge and forcing you to cum against the fingers still working against you. Your mind fills with fog and haze, the world spinning around you in that blissful way that tells you that you couldn't cum again if you wanted. Even with just his hand, he had ruined you. There was no pleasure in this world that could supersede what he gave you.
Artem kept you from falling as your orgasm turned your legs into jelly, making sure you never left his arms for a single moment.
"You remember, don't you?" He asks, his eyes peering down at you as they swirled with power.
You nod as you face toward the ground, afraid of what you know will come next should you look up at him.
He wasn't giving you a choice in the matter, however. He grabs your chin and gently guides your gaze toward him, finally seeing the infinite sadness of endless goodbyes that shimmered in your eyes.
"Artem, I don't want to forget." There were tears in your eyes as he held you in place, hesitation swirling as his gaze shifted from red to blue and back again.
"I'm sorry." There were some things humans just couldn't know, no matter how much either of you wanted to.
He could change you. He could make you like him and keep you by his side for the rest of eternity, but you deserved a human life. You deserved to see the sun and walk among your friends; you deserved not to live in fear of being discovered and running for your life; you deserved all the happiness in the world, and he knew he couldn't offer more than just a fleeting moment you would come to regret.
"I love you." He never wants you to forget that one fact, even though he knows you will.
Artem kisses your forehead as he finishes fixing your shirt and putting you back together until you are immaculate, "You were dealing with a guest that got sick in the bathroom. Artem Wing is just another face in the crowd who you don't know."
He wished you would settle back into your normal life and never approach him again, but he also longed for the next first meeting you would both have. He wanted to see how long your relationship would last before you discovered what he was and he had to send you back without even the memory of him. Sometimes he thought about avoiding the places he knew you would visit, but he couldn't live without at least seeing you; even though seeing you meant you would inevitably approach him and start the cycle again.
----
You're a bartender, always making drinks and dealing with the endless slew of drunks. Most of them are polite enough since this is a classy bar, but there is one patron in particular that always catches your eye. Brown hair, well-cut jawline, always in a suit. He always orders the good vodka and rum, but you swear the level in his glass never changes and something about looking at him makes your heart hurt but you can't understand why.
35 notes · View notes
thepaxgroup · 3 years ago
Text
artem through the years
Tumblr media
summary: little headcannons of artem wing as a child till highschool and the family dynamics behind it
characters: artem wing | zuǒ rán and his parents
warning(s): none 
word count: 1.3k
a/n: this one is a lil angsty—more bittersweet i would say! i tried to keep artem as true to his character as i could,,, i’ll leave some a/n down below too to explain more! enjoy <3 
Tumblr media
𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐦 (𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 - 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥):
       ✦   In elementary, he used to wait an extra thirty minutes without complaint for his mother to pick him up. The woman would profusely apologize to her son, pressing a quick kiss to his temple as she hastily got him into the car. She asks him quick questions and he tries not to get too excited because he knows his mother is a busy woman. So he answers with soft replies and pink-tinged cheeks when he remembers something that elated him in class. He completely misses his mothers wistful eyes glancing at him in the mirror like clockwork. 
       ✦   His babysitter would wait for him at home and the exchange was quick. His mother would wave goodbye, at times she’d blow a kiss, and she’d be off to work once more. “Artem is a good kid,” is what all his sitters used to say because Artem would stay quiet and polite and very very rarely did he ask for attention since he understood that busy people could not stop for a moment in their pursuit of ambition. 
       ✦   In second grade, his parents had taken him out to find a Halloween costume. The time alone made his heart flutter and his ears pink (it’s when he learned how important quality time was). He shook his head shyly at every other costume they suggested, knowing if he chose one the day would be over. That and he had never liked the holiday that much. Maybe his Kindergarten teacher was right, maybe he lacked the imagination a child should have (don’t tell his parents that though). In the end, he asks his parents clumsily with shining ocean eyes if he could dress as a lawyer. They find him a suit and a periwinkle tie—oh gods, his mother will not stop grinning and snapping photos. It makes him feel warm, so he lets her take a few more. 
       ✦   When little Artem had come down with a nasty cold that didn’t leave for a worrying amount of time, he found himself writhing in his tiny bed, clutching onto the sheets. The house was cold as it always was but he felt as though he were on fire. A coughing fit and a sitter calling his parents is the last he remembers. Though when night comes, something cool presses against his forehead. He cracks his tired eyes open finding it odd that he’s pressed against something familiar, that wasn’t the comfort of his bed. Shhh, someone whispers in a deep voice, rubbing circles into his back, Go back to bed. It’s a vague, vague memory that he’s convinced he made up in his fever-delirious mind. S-School… he croaked out, shifting upright. When he looks up once more he recognizes the silver eyes that look down on him. His father. It’s okay, you can miss a day Artem, murmured his father, pressing his cold hands on Artems forehead. The boy leans into the touch. I’ll be here when you wake up, said Mr. Wing as if he had known what Artem was thinking. I promise you, my love. 
       ✦   At the start of middle school, the sitters are long gone. He’s been walking home now for years yet this time, he dreads the cold and lonely house that waits for him. He wants to call his parents when the sun begins to set because they aren’t home yet but he doesn’t want to disturb them. 
       ✦   It’s the summer going into ninth grade when Artem decides to learn how to cook. He’s efficient enough to make basic meals without burning the house down and… he’s not sure why but he can’t stomach the take-out that he gets during the majority of the week when his parents leave him with a credit card and an apologetic note. 
       ✦   He saves every single note. 
       ✦   He’s surprised to find out that cooking is easy, fun—therapeutic. He sits alone in his dining room, diligently typing his thesis while a bowl of congee cools beside him. It’s at the last sentence of his essay does he stop to realize his food has gone cold, almost as cold as the aura that suffocated his family house. Yet, he still tries it and he still something small, something melancholic flitters in his eyes. I wish they could try it too… Artem swallows back the thought with a spoonful of congee. 
       ✦   [He still leaves extras in a tupperware container in the fridge on the off chance they come home hungry] 
       ✦   The week after, he finds a worn out book open in the kitchen. He instantly recognizes it as the family cookbook his mother would try pluck recipes from. Truthfully, he’s unsure why it’s there but he has his guesses. A small smile tugs at his lips and his chest becomes ridiculously warm. When Artem grabs the book he doesn’t see the note that slides out of the pages. Written in black ink it read, I found this for you, love. It looks like you’ll be needing it more than your father and I ever have. Love, Mom. 
       ✦   [When Mrs. Wing comes home at the dead of night, shrugging her blazer off with a sigh, she’s surprised to see the note left on the ground. Her lips purse into a tight line but she says nothing more, crumpling it up in the palm of her hand before she throws it in the trash.]
       ✦   Artem Wing does not resent his parents. They’re thriving and they’re trying and they’re doing their best. That’s what he understands. Even so, it’s only natural when his heart lurches in his chest during another late night study in the Stellis’ public library without even a buzz from his phone. Since he had started high school, he tried to avoid the suffocating isolation that was his home. He would spend days and nights studying until there was a little outline of bags under his eyes. Calls and texts became less and less frequent now that he was older though sometimes, he wishes he wasn’t. 
       ✦   Artem does not expect his mother to be home for his seventeenth birthday. So he stares at her with his ocean eyes wide when he comes back from the library around ten, with his mother asleep on the sofa, sitting upright. There’s a neatly wrapped gift in her hands. Mom? He had whispered guiltily. At the sound of her son, Mrs. Wings sky-blue eyes begin to flutter and she looks at him with a soft smile. Happy Birthday Artem, she said sleepily, Your father was waiting for you too but he had to go. I’m sorry, my love. She holds out the gift in her hands which Artem slowly takes in his own. I’m sorry... I thought you both were working... he murmured. Artem pressed a kiss onto his mothers forehead, Thank you Mom, he says.
       ✦   Holidays are a busy time of year. Stores purge their storages while customers splurge their checks to buy the best of decorations, the best of gifts for the people they hold in their hearts. Snow has begun to set in Stellis but Artem doesn’t mind. He’s used to the cold. Christmas Eve is spent alone, baking cookies in the kitchen while he quietly hums to traditional Chinese opera. Christmas Day is like a routine, something he’s grown accustomed to. Artem takes a fresh batch of cookies to his parents' law firm, wrapping them in a box with a burgundy bow for the season. Of course, he doesn’t see them. An assistant tells him they’re with a client and for the millionth time Artem assures the assistant it’s okay when he hands the box over. Merry Christmas, carrying the ache in his heart with grace. 
       ✦   Though, he misses when his father leaves his office, eyes wide at the sight of his son exiting the building. Artem, he wants to call out to him but Mr. Wing swallows it back because the doors have already shut. Merry Christmas, Artem, he says in his heart. 
       ✦   His mother and father FaceTime him the morning of his high school graduation. Artem awoke to the cold comforting him for one last time. We’re so proud of you, grinned his mother. She still retained her young looks but age and work most likely, had hardened her eyes. We’re sorry we can’t make it, chimed his father. His parents had been called for a case out of Stellis nearly two weeks ago. They were planning to come but their flight had been pushed back despite their attempts to find a different plane. He brushes it off with ease, thanks them with care. It’s okay, Artem replied. It doesn’t really matter, the ceremony is just a formality anyways.
       ✦   He misses the guilty look the two of them share. 
       ✦   He carries the ache, the warmth, the ambition in him so quietly when he’s called to accept his diploma. For he, started out as a Wing. 
Tumblr media
a/n: oookaay,,,, what i was gonna say was to be honest, i feel like artem wouldn’t be the type to be super teenage angsty about his parents working all the time. i think he’d understand and respect it, as well as admire them both. however, i do think that there’s a tiny, almost silent, part of him that wishes he got to spend more time with them. after all, that’s what children need. he’s kinda the type of character who would help someone else before ever helping his self and he’s shy and clumsy with affection so i think it would be hard for him to communicate it as we’ve seen before lmao. and yes, we haven’t heard much from his parents but i do think they adored him bc,,, like,,, he’s artem??? also, if you found any grammatical errors no you did not ;v; 
Tumblr media
181 notes · View notes
samsspambox · 2 years ago
Link
The scientists told him that he was very sick. He had a special pill that he would have with every meal and that someone would watch him eat. They would stand in the corner of his room and wait for him to swallow the pill. Only then would they leave the room.
He always felt fine, though. Maybe it was because he had been on the pills for so long. Wouldn’t he have been able to… go home by now? Shouldn’t his family be there to pick him up?
or alternatively: Neil Hume is found after a year in a facility by pure chance. He seems fine but... something isn't quite right.
hello the untitled neil angst fic has a name now! likes and rbs appreciated let me know what yall think in the tags i love reading them uwu
27 notes · View notes
sondepoch · 3 years ago
Text
Two Confessions, Two Lies (Artem x Reader)
“I like you,” Artem whispers, clasping the red roses you saw him buy this morning gently in his hands. “I like you more than I’ve ever liked anyone else.”
Yet, his confession is a lie.
He doesn’t like you, he likes her.
MASTERLIST
“I like you,” Artem whispers, clasping the red roses you saw him buy this morning gently in his hands. “I like you more than I’ve ever liked anyone else.”
His eyes drop to the floor in nervousness. When he next lifts them to yours, his eyes are so filled with love that it hurts.
“And I want you to know that—even if you’re not ready to like me back—I…” His ears grow pink. “I’m happy to wait, as long as it means I can keep spending time with you.”
Tears fill your eyes.
These are words you’ve wanted to hear for so long. Words you’ve been waiting to hear for so long. Artem's confession is a perfect mirror to your own sentiments: because you, too, have spent the past nine years of your life waiting for Artem to love you back, not caring that it seemed like he never would because as long as you could stay by his side—first in college, then during your shared job hunt, and finally here in Celestine’s firm—then it would always be worth it.
“I like you, too,” you whisper, allowing yourself to buy into the illusion.
Your confession is a lie: you don’t like Artem, you love him.
Yet, his confession is a lie, too: he doesn’t like you, he likes her.
The second your words leave your lips, Artem’s shoulders sag in relief.
“Do you really think she’ll feel the same way?” he asks, fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve the way he always does whenever he’s nervous. “Please be honest with me. I need to be prepared for rejection.”
“She’d be a fool to reject you,” you say, thinking about the bright-eyed junior attorney Artem’s grown attached to.
“That doesn’t mean anything. Will she reject me or not?”
You scoff.
“Is Rosa a fool or not?”
Immediately, Artem’s eyes narrow in distrust. It hurts, honestly. How despite knowing you for nine years, he’d still rather defend the woman he’s known for nine months than wait to hear you out. “Are you trying to insinuate that she’s—”
“What I’m saying is that she’s not a fool, Artem.” You step forward and pat his cheeks, an intimate gesture that he’s grown used to during your friendship. A gesture that you’ll likely have to stop doing once he’s confessed to Rosa because even if he can’t read the emotional charge behind the gesture, she'll be able to. “Which means that there’s no conceivable way for her to genuinely reject you.”
“Okay,” Artem mutters. “Okay. Can we rehearse one more time? I just—I feel like like I’m not saying it right, and—”
“Artem, you’ve performed in front of Stellis’s toughest judges and gone head to head with world-class lawyers. You don’t need to keep practicing for this.” Your tone is harsh, unforgiving. It’s all you can do to distract from the way your voice is now beginning to crack and your lips are beginning to tremble.
“I know, but…”
You sigh.
You hate this. Artem trusts you to the fullest, confiding in you all his emotions—including the emotions that hurt to know, the emotions that confirm that the only person he has eyes for is Rosa.
“Artem, go,” you say, moreso because the waver in your voice is becoming increasingly prominent and you just know that if Artem asks you why your eyes are all watery, you’ll break down right here.
“O-okay,” he says, sensing that he’s being kicked out. Then, he opens his arms. “One for good luck?”
And that completely floors you.
It’s a tradition the two of you have had for the longest time: a hug for good luck, whenever one of you had something important. It was something you started impishly when you were a year into your crush on the man and needed any excuse to start getting physically close to him—but it’s always been always you initiating, you opening your arms nervously while Artem would sigh and indulge you reluctantly.
Even back during the bar exam, Artem hadn’t stopped beforehand to ask you for a good luck hug. You remember because it stuck with you for so long: the fact that he must have really hated hugging you if he wouldn’t even take a physical good luck charm with him to the single most important exam of his life.
Hearing him tell you today, for the first time ever, that he thinks he needs your good luck to go and ask Rosa out is heartbreaking.
“O-okay,” you say, mainly because you know it’s your duty as a best friend to do so.
You open your arms, and Artem steps into them instantly, enveloping you in the warm, loving arms that you’ve grown to love.
“Good luck,” you whisper, knowing you don't actually want to give it, knowing he won’t need it, knowing that Rosa isn’t foolish enough to reject a man as perfect as Artem.
“Thank you,” he whispers, and with your implicit blessing, he flashes you the most nervous smile you’ve ever seen. 
Artem walks out of your office with awkward strides, long legs not looking anywhere near as graceful as they usually do.
“Wait,” you whisper, when you realize that he’s left the roses he was planning to give to Rosa on your desk. “Artem!”
That idiot, you think, picking up the bouquet and walking to the door. Only he could make you do something like this: give flowers to the man you love so that he can give them to the woman he loves. You roll your eyes, inspecting the tag on the bouquet, half-expecting that it’ll be something cheesy, something stupid, something that won’t crack your heart into two and burst the dam of despair that’s building in the back of your throat.
Then, you read the message.
My love for you is like these roses, overgrown and needing the nourishment of your affection to live on. —A.W
A short message, and a much too dramatic one. If Artem had allowed you to read this earlier, you would have instantly advised him against it. Confessing love, of all things, during a confession is a terrible idea. He should forego the roses altogether, should rely on the power of "like" instead, and…
You suddenly realize why Artem was so nervous when he was practicing his confession with you.
He’s not going to tell her he likes her, you think, suddenly coming to a stop right as you’re about to turn a corner. You can hear Artem speaking to Rosa in a hushed voice, the bouquet of roses he left in your office forgotten like you.
He’s going to tell her he loves her.
And sure enough, from your position around the corner, you hear his confession: noble and sweet, dramatic and sincere. 
Then, Rosa confesses that she feels the same way, and you know that you’ve lost the man you love forever.
MASTERLIST
Word Count: 1.1k
Notes: i posted this on ao3 a really long time ago and forgot to crosspost it onto tumblr...but it was inspired by an ask from the wonderful 🥺 anon so thank you for sharing your big brain artem thoughts with me <333
Comment & Like 
I do not own the rights to Genshin Impact or any of the characters within it.
186 notes · View notes
emjiajia · 1 year ago
Text
Grave
"Those who lay down have already passed, those who sit still live on, the one who stands is a witness to everything."
Tumblr media
Yay angst
111 notes · View notes
slumberwind · 4 years ago
Text
One Step Away | Artem Wing
Artem loved weddings. To him, it is a different kind of happiness seeing two people tie their souls and hearts to each other. The thought of those two people living together for the rest of their lives, waking up in each other's arms give his heart a warm and fuzzy feeling.
As a bachelor, he experienced attending countless weddings of his colleagues, friends and acquaintances. He would be lying if he said he haven’t thought of what his wedding would look like or what it would feel like to be the groom who eagerly awaits for his bride at the end of the room and not just someone who’s watching from the sidelines.
Even his mom, Professor An, has been teasing him for too long. Jokingly telling him that she might not see her grandchildren anymore. But no matter how other people pushed him into dating, into marrying someone - he didn’t. 
Because he believed time will tell and such a thing called love shouldn’t be rushed. Besides, he didn’t mind waiting either.
Every moment was worth the wait when he met her. It was just a normal day at the firm, he thought. Not until he saw his colleagues flocking at a certain table. Turns out that the new employee’s arrival was that certain day. Due to hectic schedule and endless cases, he completely forgot about it.
Instead of joining them, he decided to go into his office first. Afraid to ruin the mood with his cold demeanor, as people described him.
Then their eyes met.
And suddenly, all the love songs he has heard started making sense. Everyday to him feels like he’s drowning in an endless sea. And yet she brought him up which made Artem become a dust in the wind that travels from one paradise to another.  
In her he found his home, but he chose to live silently. Too afraid to make a mistake, too afraid to do something that the other wouldn’t like. So he waited for the perfect timing… Again.
The guests raised from their seats as the door of the church opened. 
Artem took a one deep breath as she started walking down the aisle. Everyone’s attention was focused on her as she slowly, slowly walked to the man who’ll stay on their side forever. 
Artem was never an emotional person, but at that exact moment he wanted to.
So this is what it feels like… he thought.
Who knew watching someone walk down the aisle first hand will be this overwhelming. A feeling he couldn’t quite explain. A small smile immediately plastered on Artem’s lips when their eyes met. Those eyes that could make him feel things other people couldn’t give him. Those eyes that he won’t ever get tired looking at.
And then she stopped walking, waiting for the groom to take their hand.
So he moved…
Backwards.
To give way for Luke. 
To give way for the groom.
It turns out, he was waiting for nothing. Or perhaps, he waited too long that she was taken when he’s only one step away from her. His heart was aching. Artem feels like he would break any moment and won’t be able to last anymore but he endured it. For her.. And for his best friend.
“Leaving, already?” There was a hint of sadness in her eyes as they stopped Artem on his tracks. He forced a smile and looked back at the person he loved all these years. It took him a moment of staring at her face, memorizing her every feature before answering. 
“Yes. Unfortunately, I can’t stay here any longer. Still have a lot of cases to do.” 
It almost made Artem feel guilty, lying about this. On her wedding day. But the sentence ‘I can’t stay here any longer’ wasn’t a lie because truly, he can’t keep watching anymore. Before he completely walked away, from the reception venue, from her, and from her life, he pulled them into a one last hug.
Truth to be told, she wanted to stop him from walking away...
Because she loved artem’s hug… But his hug never felt that cold...
86 notes · View notes
iustitiacried · 3 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
or where artem tries to fall in love with his best friend but fairy tale endings rarely happen in real life.
...
artem catches onto your feelings for him, quick. he’s had his suspicions. the light blush you sport whenever he calls you out for drinks, the minute sharp inhales you take in whenever he comes a little closer than expected, the subtle perking of your ears and twinkling eyes, extra bit of effort and care you dedicate to favors he calls from you...
...He knows all about it and he wishes you knew.
...
he’d be a fool to notice nothing.
‘sides, how would he even deserve the title of being your best friend if he couldn’t tell something as obvious as this? you’ve been together through thick and thin. law school could be a bitch, even for a wing.
no.
especially for the bright-eyed wing whose name bears the burden of his father’s legacy and works twice as hard.
you knew artem wing from when he was just a man in his 20s, figuring out life as he burned the candlesticks dry every night to live up to his old man’s prestige and his own ideas of excellence. to you, all he’s ever done was just because he was father’s son. to you, he wasn’t just blessed by fate to get that 99% statistic. you were among the few who looked at him long enough to appreciate his efforts and see past that. he watches over you, you watch over him. buddies from law school, a worthy foe in a friend at the courtroom. you were witty. you were smart. you had the kind of presence that can strike anyone to silence when you walk into a room.
so, why can’t he?
...
he relents.
it’s not like he could just up and tell you.
in the first place, you wouldn’t tell him anything too.
so now both of you are stuck in this perpetual game of hide n’ seek you weren’t even aware you were playing. keeping a friendship for the sake of friendship; they never end well, indeed. artem knows what’s letting him enjoy your company despite it all, is wearing itself out thin on that track of borrowed time. and so, he just watches over you. this time, as the light leaves you.
...
june arrives. nights change as the moons he swore to ever do.
it’s been a while since you last saw each other. what with the onslaught of NXX-related cases and your own affairs preoccupying you.
you both know this was an excuse. tensions tire and adults have much better things to do. still, it was nice to catch up. he missed this. it’s been a long time since he last felt the comfort of the kindred spirit he saw in you.
still, the weight of the ring tucked safely inside his pocket digs into him. this thing you’ve been putting off, it’s overdue. this much he owes you. this much he owes you.
the world stops as he moves to show you the heavy circular piece of gold that’s been weighing on him since the last time he saw you.
“thank you for loving me.”
the stars flicker and glisten your eyes. stars glisten strewn across the night sky. but none of that matters when his reflection engulfs you.
artem takes in a deep breath, holding the mocking piece of jewelry that, for the longest time, he wished he’d adorn you.
the heart wants what it wants.
“i’m sorry i couldn’t fall in love with you too.”
but the heart cannot give what it cannot give.
35 notes · View notes
icypopz · 3 years ago
Text
TEARS OF THEMIS MASTERLIST.
Tumblr media
KEY.
✧ - fic/drabble
✦ - headcanons
✿ - fluff
❀ - angst
❁ - hurt/comfort
✾ - comfort
❃ - suggestive
Tumblr media
zuo ran / artem wing
✦ with an affectionate s/o ✿
xia yan / luke pearce
lu jinghe / marius von hagen
✦ as your boyfriend ✿
✦ with a shy s/o who tries to fluster him ✿
✦ with an expressionless/calm s/o ✿
mo yi / vyn richter
✦ with an expressionless/calm s/o ✿
✦ with an affectionate s/o ✿
nxx
✦ when their s/o gets injured ✾
qiangwei / rosa
Tumblr media
masterlist index !
31 notes · View notes
angstmongertina · 3 years ago
Text
The Vision of Lachesis
Spoilers for Artem’s Entwined Fates SSR card story! Also, warning for angst and implied/mentioned character death, because I can only write so much fluff before things get angsty.
I had this idea almost as soon as I played the Entwined Fates card story because I am a sucker for outside POV fics, though the idea for the last scene came later lol. Incidentally, if you want to skip the angst, just stop before the little warning I put in there. Everything before it should be perfectly fluffy.
Cross-posted to AO3.
In his years living at Cloudbreak Temple, Master Lu has already seen many visitors pass through its gate, all with various different hopes and dreams and stories filling their souls. He has seen everyone, from new babies to old grandmothers, from shy young couples to blissful newlyweds and bickering old spouses. And still, the pair he spies entering the temple catch his attention.
He is, as is always the case during the busy festival days, pulled in all directions at once, guiding petitioners through the rituals of prayer and interpreting fortune, but even so, he cannot help but keep an eye on them. A man in front, tall and middle-aged, wearing a solemn expression that does not quite suit the laugh lines on his face, and a boy, not yet fully grown and quiet, shying away slightly from the noise and bustle around him but watching the proceedings with a bright, piercing gaze. The man says something, a gentle hand clapping the boy’s shoulder in a warm, fatherly gesture that brings a faint smile to the small face, before they dive into the crowd, and he turns his attention back to the couple before him.
Thankfully, they do not comment on his preoccupation and he puts the others out of mind as he helps them determine their fortunes.
The next time he sees the pair, they are with old Master Wang, which comes as no great surprise to him. Although Cloudbreak Temple may be most well-known for petitions to the star of wisdom, they accommodate many types of prayers, and while the boy may be of the age where success in learning and exams is important, one glance at the youthful face is enough to tell him that the boy has both intelligence and diligence to spare, and furthermore, a concrete attitude that would likely dismiss the thought of appealing to prayers for school out of hand. No, there is no need for prayers for success. But for safety, on the other hand…
He moves a little closer, still not yet so close as to be truly spying, but near enough to get a better look at the pair. The man is dressed casually, long brown hair pulled out of his face, and stands almost at a slouch, but the eyes that observe the world around him through thin-rimmed glasses are far from relaxed. Instead, their grey depths are cautious, sharp, clearly accustomed to seeking out the truth behind every person, every choice and interaction. It is only when they fall on the young man beside him do they soften with affection and concern. A man of action, of justice and strong morals, though perhaps of some impetuousness and with a fragility under it all.
A man, in short, who likely puts himself into the path of danger for the good of the people around him, but who also might shatter should he be pushed to the brink, should the lives of those he cares about be on the line.
And the boy…
Master Lu frowns, brushing a thoughtful hand over his chin and the faint beginnings of a thick beard as the man ruffles the boy’s hair and he looks up at his companion with a small but adoring smile.
The boy still has a whole entire life in store for him, of that he is certain. And one that will no doubt intersect with the temple again.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When the couple steps through the gates of the temple, the man sheltering the girl beside him from the crowds, he notices them immediately. Though many years have passed, he has learned to trust his instincts, even beyond what his mind may tell him, and his gut recognizes the man long before his eyes do. The boy has grown, of course, in the ensuing two decades, but the bright intelligence, the thoughtfulness and care, all harken back to the shy child of so long ago.
But rather than his old friend and mentor, this time, the man brings with him a companion of his own. At first glance, she is just as bright-eyed and curious as he once was, though perhaps with more anxiety than he had, focusing immensely on the tasks before her. And the way he watches her…
Before he knows it, he is approaching the pair, standing at a table for the star of wisdom, and offers his assistance. He sees her attention flit away as her partner leaves for his own prayer, following him through the crowd with her eyes and her mind; though she appears to be unaware of it herself, her partner knows, and he knows, that even apart, their hearts, their very lives themselves, are irrevocably entwined, two souls pulled together by an inescapable gravity that he had not seen in decades, if ever.
He cannot help his curiosity about them, about this pair that seems to confirm the very existence of fate itself. These two lawyers, partners, these two halves of a single whole, that the universe has brought together, in an act of perfect balance.
Their marriage fortunes, an offer he makes that is part personal interest, part guiding hand, come as a surprise, though perhaps it should not have been wholly unexpected. He has never been wrong before, not about the couples who have captured his attention, but this…
This is less of a gentle nudge from fate and more of a flashing neon sign.
She reacts to her fortune tag first and he cannot help but smile at the curiosity, at the innocence, in her eyes. “I cannot keep my heart, as it longs to be with you…” A straightforward fortune, as befitting the girl who watches her partner with subconscious adoration, who still does not see his unconditional tenderness, who still does not understand her own constant preoccupation, for what they are. In time, she will realize.
But her partner…
He knows from the moment he sees the man’s face that the meaning of his own fortune is not lost on him. “It is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all.” And it is fitting for him, for the way he turns away from this, his hesitant heart, cautiously hopeful for a sign that the undying flame he carries will not be snuffed out, bruised from this heavy blow from fate, determined to carry its burden alone, to push his feelings aside and pretend that all is well, as he has always done.
It is a cautionary tale, this particular fortune, and he can say nothing, can only look on in weighty silence, as its recipient takes his companion and continues down his ill-fated and forewarned path.
Or, at least, attempts to, but for the efforts of the girl by his side. He does not listen to the conversation not meant for his ears but he does not need to, not when her thoughts are written clear across her face, not when she tugs her partner back to hear his explanation.
Not when she, despite being still oblivious to the depth of their connection, to the direction of her heart, immediately moves to petition, to help, to find some way of reversing the luck, propelled by outward concern and hidden affection.
He gives them directions both to the wishing tree and for the method to improve one’s luck and watches as she leaps at each opportunity, apparently unaware of the implications, in her quest to lessen her companion’s misfortune. But the man, now wearing a near constant smile of stunned helplessness, knows, even if he cannot, or perhaps more likely, will not, let himself, discern the cause of her concern.
Not even when it involves her suggesting that they bind their fortunes together on the wishing tree.
He chuckles, running his fingers over his beard as he watches them, their gentle discussion and animated features, both conveying so much to the world that they are too close, too farsighted, to see. But in this moment, it is not his place to say anything, to interfere any further, and so he doesn’t. Fate has already shown her own interest in their future, one that they have accepted and furthered, without, apparently, even realizing it.
Ah, to be young and in love.
Waving off their thanks, he watches as they leave before shaking his head and letting out the full-bellied laugh that he has been holding back since he first met them. In all of his years working at the temple, he has never been wrong before, and he is certain that he will not be wrong this time.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The first day of the festival dawns early and bright, with that telltale warmth that foretells another hot August day. Even before the temple is open for visitors, anticipation hums through the air, the faint buzz as everyone prepares for the inevitable rush of petitioners.
Standing before the steps to the main temple, Master Lu looks out over the entire grounds with a smile. While the outside world has changed drastically in the past decades, within the temple, it is like being transported back in time; the same old tables from years past have already been set up, and the decorations, while not entirely the exact same as those used in centuries past, have all been remade in the original style.
In the fast-paced and ever-changing world, it is almost a sanctuary from time itself, where the tags of decades of visitors remain for an eternity and the history and traditions of the ancestors are preserved for future generations.
Well, at least in some ways more than others, if the influx of technology, and not just from forgetful visitors, is any indication.
He shakes his head, chuckling at his own preoccupation as he dodges young Master Zhao, juggling his attention between the pile of fortunes carried in his arms and the phone jammed under his ear. Clearly, he has begun to get overly sentimental in his old age.
Alas, yet another reminder of the inevitability of the passage of time.
The entry of visitors, a veritable tsunami of petitioners all looking to arrive early, interrupts his thoughts and he turns his attention to them, casting an experienced eye over the crowd. As usual, the vast majority make a beeline straight for the table for the star of wisdom, drawn as ever to the promise of good scores and success. Young couples make their way to the table for marriage fortunes, fresh-eyed and smitten with each other. And others still filter towards the other tables, for peace and wealth and…
And safety.
He spots the small family almost as soon as they pass through the gates, though they are admittedly hard to miss. The man and woman walk arm in arm, slow and cautious against the crush of the people around them, his form shifting to act as a barrier to shield her against the worst of the crowd. The height of the man alone would have been enough to catch his attention, but it is accentuated by the tiny pigtailed girl riding on his shoulders, adding another head to their overall height. From her perch, she looks around with bright, curious eyes, a small hand pointing towards the main temple, and him.
Even across the distance, he can see the surprise and recognition flicker in the bright blue eyes that meet his, and he would not have been able to hide his grin even if he had tried. As it is, though, he does not try, instead stepping forward to meet them with a greeting.
“I don’t know if you remember us, but…”
He shakes his head, waving off the woman’s comment with a laugh. “I do.”
And of course he does. How could he not? They have matured, naturally, settling into one combined force rather than two beings still tumbling in each other’s orbits; her hair is longer now, pulled into a neat bun, and his more disheveled than he’s ever seen under the ministrations of toddler hands; but the same spirit, the same keen eyes and entwined fates, shine out from the pair, unique amongst the crowd of other visitors.
He grins. “Of course I do. After all, it’s not every day I draw two fortunes quite so complementary, and even more rare to have them be hung up together on the wishing tree like that.”
At that, she laughs as well, her cheeks reddening slightly, and pauses to shake her bangs out of her face. “Yes, well, you were right, and it all worked out in the end.” She turns to her husband with a playful look, elbowing him gently in the ribs. “Even if it did take the better part of another year.”
“That is on you just as much as it is on me. After all, it took you just as long to realize,” the man retorts, though, to his amusement, his ears flush a faint red, which only deepens when their daughter points them out in a chipper voice, one loud enough that several visitors nearby turn to glance at them.
From the mouth of babes…
“What brings you back? Not just to check on your old tags, no?”
Shooting him a grateful look for the subject change, the man shakes his head, a faint smile curling the edges of his mouth. “No, though it is an added bonus. We’ve come for a new prayer for safety.”
His wife nudges him again, though gentler this time, and with less vigor. “Two, remember?”
He laughs openly, an expression that makes him look years younger, as he drops a hand to the gentle swell of her abdomen. “It may be a little early for that, still. I think he at least needs to have an official name first.”
She wrinkles her nose at him before laughing in turn. “Fine, fine. We will just have to come back again in a year or two.”
“Of course. Anything for you.”
“Daddy!”
A comically dramatic wince flashes across the man’s face when his daughter leans over, her voice projecting with unerring precision directly into his ear, and his wife is left hiding her amusement with some difficulty.
“Too loud, baobei.”
The bright blue eyes widen in distress. “Sorry, Daddy!”
He chuckles, reaching up to clasp her small fist in his hand. “It’s okay, baobei. What is it?”
Squirming from her perch on his shoulders, she points towards the back of the temple, where a few decorated branches of the wishing tree can be seen hanging over the roof. “Big tree! ‘S pretty! Go see?”
He shakes his head. “Later, maybe. First we have to—”
“No! Go see!” She leans over until she is hanging directly in front of his eyes. “Daddy, please?”
The man glances at his wife, who shrugs, mouthing the word “softie” while still wearing that same huge grin, and he finds that he has to struggle to choke back his laugh before anyone notices.
Given the soft snort that reaches his ears, he only partly succeeds.
“All right, then. Let’s go. We can come back for a prayer of safety”—the man glances back down at his wife, a faint but wondering smile dancing on his lips—“or even two, later.” With a solemn expression, the man offers him a deep, respectful nod, one that he is not quick enough to wave away. “Thank you, Master.”
“Bye-bye!”
Laughing, he waves at the trio, watching as they slowly weave their way through the crowd towards the back of the temple. Even across that distance, he can feel the affection and respect they hold for each other, can see the connection they share, which have managed to catch his attention time and time again.
When they finally move out of sight, he turns back to the temple and the flood of other guests, making a mental note to keep an eye out for the little family in future years. Maybe he can take a small break from drawing marriage fortunes in favor of overseeing prayers for safety for a few years…
STOP NOW IF YOU DON’T WANT ANGST.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sky is still dark with storm clouds when they first dare venture back outside to examine the state of the temple. In some ways, it is almost a miracle; despite the weeks of heavy storms, accompanied by shrieking gales and large hail, Cloudbreak Temple and its inhabitants have been mostly unharmed, save for superficial damages, just in time for the summer festival. Still, the mood is quiet, solemn, as everyone sets to work, clearing away the fallen branches, discarding the broken shingles, and making room for the stations as best they can in the limited time they have.
Wandering over the grounds, Master Lu shakes his head. Summer storms are not uncommon in the mountains, but even in the many decades that he has spent at Cloudbreak Temple, he has never seen a storm like that one, lightning seeming to rent the sky in two and thunder shaking the foundations of the temple itself, where there was naught to do but to stay indoors and safe. They were truly fortunate that nobody was injured and that most of the damages can be repaired.
Unfortunately, not all of the temple has remained quite so intact.
Stopping at the edge of the courtyard, he sighs, casting his gaze over the mess. It does not come as a complete surprise, given the lashing of the rain or the howling of the wind, but that does not change the sorrow he feels at the destruction that greets his eyes. Where there was once a majestic, venerable camphor tree is now a tired, wizened old thing, bowing under its own weight in the weak hints of daylight. Fortune tags lay strewn amongst the branches that had once held them aloft, once vivid symbols of the future now simply dark red and brown patches against muddy green, that he has to pick his way around as he wanders further in, taking in all of the damage.
But there is no time to clean up the mess, not in his old age and with everything else that will be happening for the day, and the visitors will understand, have to understand. He shakes his head, feeling all of his many years pressing down on his shoulders, almost as though he is fighting the weight of all the fallen wishes themselves.
“Master Lu?”
He looks up at the familiar voice and smiles. Master Chen, arms full of red cords, stands in the entryway of the courtyard, his bright eyes filled with concern, and he suddenly finds himself wondering when they all got so young.
“What is it? Do you need my help with anything?”
The boy shakes his head. “No, we are almost finished. There are enough of us to finish and handle the visitors, since there likely will not be many so soon after the storm. If you want, I could help clean this area…”
He shakes his head again, this time with a more genuine smile. “No, you go on. They’ll be needing you in the main temple, I’m sure. I can work here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Chen nods, putting the new cords on the nearby table before giving him a small, formal bow. “Thank you. Then I leave this to you.”
He waves the kid away, chuckling slightly as he watches him turn and walk back to the main temple before turning his attention back to the courtyard and the scattered fortunes, the remembrances of years, or decades even, of hopes and dreams.
With another heavy sigh, he squats down, tossing some fallen branches aside before picking up the wooden fortune at his feet. It is old, the carved text worn down by the elements, and he runs his fingers over the inscription, a brief statement on the virtues of hard work. A student had hung it there, once upon a time, and he closes his eyes for a moment, hoping that they achieved their goals, before tucking it into his robes and continuing forward.
In some ways, it is almost a walk down memory lane. Prayers to the star of wisdom from students that have long since graduated, who may even be teachers and professors now. Prayers for safety for people who have moved beyond that point, who may have even already passed. Marriage fortunes, ones that he helped distribute and interpret, for young couples that are now parents or even grandparents of their own…
He stumbles to a stop, staring down at the ground by his feet. Lying in the grass, so hidden by mud that he almost missed them, are two wooden cards. Their surfaces are almost entirely obscured by the dirt, but he still recognizes them instantly, the pair of fortunes so opposite to each other, so perfectly complementary. Held to the branch and each other by a red cord that has split and frayed under the years, no doubt hastened by the tempest.
Heaving another sigh, he leans over and…
“Master?”
Caught off-guard he snaps upright, turning around with a polite refusal on the tip of his tongue, but his instincts, ever reliable, stay his reply as the appearance of the visitor sinks in.
Dressed in dark, muted colors, he is easy to overlook, blending into his surroundings, into any crowd, with little effort. His face is drawn, haggard, lines of exhaustion etched into his skin, making him look years older, while his dark hair is disheveled, streaked with gray. Altogether, the man in the entryway, tired and worn, is almost unrecognizable from the young, joyous father of his memory. In just the few years since he last visited, he has aged a decade, his strong, confident form now frail, once bright azure eyes now dimmed, haunted.
And the man approaches, moving forward with slow, hesitant steps, eyes fixed on the tags he holds in his hand.
“That… Is that…?”
The voice nearly breaks around those few words, hoarse and almost inaudible, but he doesn’t need to hear the rest of the question, doesn’t need an explanation to know what the man wants, to know what must have happened.
Closing his eyes, he bows his head. “Yes. It is. They must have fallen during the storm.”
He hears a labored, shuddering breath, one that makes his own chest tighten in sympathy. “I… May I?”
“Of course.” He steps forward, gently placing the tags into his outstretched hands, watching as trembling fingers brush over the faded markings, the broken cord, as the pale face twists with fresh pain. “I…” He clears his throat. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
“Daddy?”
They both turn at the same time, where a small girl stands in the entryway of the courtyard, holding the hand of an older woman as she cradles a bundle in her other arm. Pulling free of the restraining grasp, she runs forward to join them, grabbing her father’s free hand. “Daddy?”
Something resembling a smile tugs at the corners of the man’s lips as he squats to his daughter’s eye level. “What is it, baobei?”
“Are you sad?”
The sound that leaves the man’s throat is more of a rasp than a chuckle, but neither of them seem to notice. “Yes.” He wraps an arm around the girl, lifting her into the air as he stands back up. “Yes, I am.”
To his surprise, the girl only nods solemnly before looking at the tags in his hand. “What is that?”
The man sighs, holding it up so she can examine it more closely, running her small fingers over the wood as he wipes away the mud. “Mama and I came here years ago and hung it up when we were here. Before you were even born.”
“Oh. It’s pretty.” A slight frown on her face, she studies the fortunes and the cord linking them before raising her gaze. “Do you miss Mama?”
He has to shift his gaze away as the smile on the man’s face crumbles, turning his attention back to the mess of branches and fortune tags, but even so, he cannot escape hearing the slight hitch in the quiet voice. “Every day.”
She sniffles, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face against his shoulder. “Me too.”
“Anthea!” The older woman reaches them, her face a mix of concern and frustration, and he can’t help but turn his attention back to the family. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think she would be so quick.”
The man shakes his head as she reaches for the girl, instead shifting her position in his arms. “It’s fine, Ma. Besides, you have enough on your hands. And you’ve done more than enough for us now.”
“Still…”
“Ma.” The man closes his eyes, gently shaking his head, before meeting her gaze with a determination that even he can feel, that makes him tear his gaze away once more, feeling vaguely like he is eavesdropping. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I…” A sigh that hangs in the air between them. “I need to do this. For her. But thank you for… for everything. And…”
A hand suddenly appears in his vision and he looks up to find the man before him, standing up straighter with a mix of sorrow and resolve dancing on his features. “I don’t know if you remember me, but…”
He shakes his head. “I do. Still.”
“Of course.” A small but genuine smile cracks his mouth as the man draws a deep breath. “I… I remember you said once that fortunes should be returned to the temple once they’ve come true and…” He swallows once, hard. “Can you put these back for me?”
“Yes, certainly.” He reaches for them, hand closing back around the fortunes that the man holds out.
Two little wooden tags have never felt so heavy in his palm before.
For a moment, the man stares at them, as though in his hands, in these fragile pieces of wood, he carries all the weight of the world, before tearing his gaze away to meet his. “Thank you.”
Oddly enough, when he opens his mouth, he finds a sudden lump in his throat and instead of trying to speak, he only inclines his head, but it is enough. The man smiles again, a soft, ephemeral expression, before turning and walking away, still carrying his daughter while his mother paces alongside him with his son in her arms.
As he watches them leave, he brushes his thumb over the worn fortunes he cradles, gently tracing the text that he still remembers like it had been drawn yesterday.
It is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all.
Leaving the courtyard, he silently enters the main temple, ignoring the questioning looks from his fellow masters and visitors alike as he sets the tag, still tied to its partner with muddy red cord, down amongst the various other fortunes of years past, and sits back on his heels, reading it over one last time.
And so it is.
27 notes · View notes
cinn-crose · 3 years ago
Text
Sway with me. [part 1]
As Rosa entered the ballroom, she expected her and Artem to have a great time; why would she be jealous this fast? [pairing: Artem + MC]
also psst psst a hint of sub artem + angst
When marimba rhythms start to play,
Dance with me, make me sway.
Rosa entered the ballroom, her gown swaying slowly. Hidden identities behind masquerade masks, yet she could easily recognize the people in the ball.
A man was taking photos; he wore a suit, and his hair is tinted a golden orange. "Luke, obviously," she whispered, sighing. "He still took his photography camera with him..."
Another man sipped from a glass of wine; his white, silky hair was rather messy. Rosa noticed the pair of glasses in his suit pocket. "You can't wear your glasses over your masquerade mask, obviously, Vyn." The image of Vyn wearing his glasses over a masquerade mask made her giggle softly.
Another man wearing a suit seemed to be teasing a group of people. His voice was rather loud, and he kept laughing loudly. "Marius, same as always.." she rolled her eyes, heading to the food bar.
She picked up a small plate filled with cheese of different types, paired with biscuits and chocolate. Rosa wasn't the type to crave expensive food, but this time, it was an exception.
"Madame." A deep voice spoke behind her, his warm breath against her skin. In surprise, she gasped, her eyes widening.
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore,
Hold me close, sway me more.
"Artem!" Rosa said, her voice hinting that she is reprimanding him. "You just like surprising people, don't you." She knew how much Artem loved suddenly appearing behind her, making her jump, and sometimes even drop files she carried, or books she was reading.
"Rosa, you should.. wear this." Artem handed her a soft silk masquerade mask, a red feather sticking out of the left side. "It's a masquerade, afterall."
Artem wore an expensive retailed suit; He also wore a black masquerade mask, complimenting his dark suit. His tie clip looks polished and even more expensive. Artem adjusted his tie, looking away from her. "What? Is there something on my face?"
"Yes.." Rosa replied, getting closer to Artem's cheek.
Like a flower bending in the breeze,
Bend with me, sway with ease.
Now, Artem expected a kiss from the woman. He closed his eyes, smiling. As Rosa noticed such, she smirked. "Yes, there is something on your face." She pretended to wipe something off his face.
"Oh, ah—" Artem stuttered, a tint of pink on his cheeks; he seemed quite embarrassed. "Why, what were you expecting me to do?" Rosa spoke up, raising an eyebrow.
When we dance, you have a way with me,
Stay with me, sway with me.
"N-Nothing. Anyways," He sighed, fixing his tie. "I'd like to invite you to the wine section of this ball." Confused, Rosa looked at Artem. "But your alcohol toleration—?"
"No need to worry about that. Besides, a client is looking for us," Artem looked at his watch, holding out a hand for her.
"Shall we go, m'lady?"
MC graciously accepts his hand, allowing him to lead her to the other side of the ballroom.
"Let me introduce you to our client," Artem starts, stopping infront of a woman. She seemed young, an age or two younger than the attorney; she wore a dress that exaggerates her neck and shoulders, paired with high heels. "This is Selena, a representative from the Pax group." Rosa smiled at her, taking a wine glass from the table. "I am MC, a lawyer from the Themis Law Firm," she introduced herself, pouring a serving of wine for herself and Artem.
Other dancers may be on the floor,
Dear, but my eyes will see only you.
"I know you; you defended Marius Von Hagen on court, yes?" Selena asks, looking at Rosa, then at Artem; his attention was on the younger attorney. "..my alcohol tolerance is low," he whispered, fixing his tie. "I don-"
"MC!" Luke came running to the small group, giggling to himself. "They have a toast section! There are so many spreads and-"
"If you want to," Selena immediately said, clearing her throat; Luke and Rosa's attention diverted to the woman. "you two can go to the bread section, I have something to discuss with Artem."
"Oh?" Artem looked back at Selena, putting down the glass of wine Rosa gave him. "If so, my partner here needs to listen as well," he continued in a low, serious voice.
Selena could only sigh, crossing her arms. "It's a personal matter, Artem. Besides—"
"'Mr. Wing' would be a more appropriate way to address me," Artem cut her off, noticing something suspicious. "You're.. not even an acquaintance, Selena. If anything, you are our client." Artem forced himself to be cold, shocking both Luke and Rosa.
Only you have that magic technique;
When we sway, I go weak!
"..If you can excuse us, um-" Luke looked back at his friend, clearing his throat. "We're going to the bread section. Right, MC?" He smiled awkwardly, avoiding Artem's gaze.
The younger lawyer could only nod, looking back at Artem. "We- we have to go. Bye!" Rosa walked away fast, following Luke. "It.. seems like Artem and his client will argue, that's why I wanted to bring you away from the chaos," he whispered, heading to another section of the ballroom.
"Let's stay here for now," Luke said, fixing her masquerade mask. "Marius is busy with talking to some businessmen." To prove his statement, he pointed at Marius, who seemed bored as two men in suits spoke to him.
"Well, seems like he's bored," Rosa commented. "Marius isn't the type to talk about business matters, especially at balls like this."
As time went on, Luke and her danced together, ate snacks together, and participated in card games, yet they were careful on how much they would bet. This whole time, Rosa wished to have done all these activities with Artem; she watched the whole time as Artem and Selena talked, and Artem kept looking flushed, his cheeks constantly tinted with pink.
I can hear the sounds of violins,
Long before it begins.
Now, Rosa was getting jealous. She wanted to know what the two were talking about; afterall, that's her task as Artem's partner, to know any business consults Artem deals with.
She waited until Luke was distracted by Marius, listening to them as they debated on the best spread for toast. MC carefully walked over to Artem and Selena, trying not to make it seem obvious.
Make me thrill as only you know how,
Sway me smooth, sway me now.
"A- And, well, I deal with missing person cases," Artem stuttered, looking down. "Good boy. And your partner, what does she deal with?"
She realized that Artem was too focused on Selena and her little remarks, making him accidentally spill information related to the Themis Law Firm; she noticed how drawn he was to her compliments, as well as the little touches Selena would do.
He's drunk again, isn't he.. Rosa thought to herself, noticing how Artem acted sweet and dazed all of a sudden, resulting in him not collecting his thoughts properly.
Rosa cleared her voice, the two people looking back at her. Artem put his wine glass down, his cheeks quite red, now. "Oh- MC!" Selena laughed nervously, looking back at Artem. "I.. have to go, now-" Quickly, Selena walked away, walking towards a small group of men wearing black clothes.
"Artem, you're intoxicated," his partner says, sighing. "I heard your conversation with this.. 'client' of yours. Did you give out information?"
"I- I didn't!" Artem said in a hurry, frowning. Rosa could only raise her eyebrow in doubt. "Oh, really? Then why did Luke overhear Selena talking to a bunch of men who are apparently interested in milking out information from the Themis law firm?"
".." Artem could not respond; he fixed his tie, clearing his throat.
[time skip alleluia]
The ball is finally over. Marius agreed to take Luke home, while Vyn stayed longer, for he had to investigate a small matter.
"Why don't you stay at my apartment for tonight?" Artem approached Rosa who was sitting on a couch by herself. "Alright; but let's.. discuss certain matters."
The two attorneys finally reached Artem's home. Their voices were quite strained after hours of arguing; it was surprising, really, how Artem didn't crash the car.
"You didn't know she was flirting with you?!" She said loudly, yet she minded the tone of her voice. "Artem, you gave out information from the Stellis Law Firm!"
"Shut!" Artem yelled back, opening the door to his home, grumbling. "Besides, it's.. very late at night. There is no use to arguing."
Rosa changed to the clothes she had packed earlier before arriving at the ball; she asked Artem to keep the packed clothes in his car. In the meantime, Artem removed his vest and coat, still wearing the white long-sleeved polo, paired with a tie.
She sat down on Artem's bed, waiting for his arrival. The woman had to share the bed with Artem; afterall, he lived alone. She ran downstairs, heading to the kitchen. Rosa planned to wash her face first before heading to bed.
"Artem, do you have spare towels?" Rosa asked, peeking through the kitchen. She watched as Artem cut an apple and put it on a ceramic bowl. "On the very bottom drawer, Rosa," Artem replied, adjusting the heat of the stove.
She ran back upstairs, walking over to the bottom drawer of Artem's nightstand.
MC gasped— she realized she opened the wrong drawer. She should've opened the drawer of the bathroom, or perhaps the storage room. When she opened the bottom drawer of Artem's nightstand, Rosa found rather.. questionable items Artem owns.
part 2 here!
39 notes · View notes
yanbub · 4 years ago
Text
mutuals appreciation post !! happy 1.3k milestone ♡
Tumblr media
not @ me just randomly doing this 🤡 anyways yes happy 1.3k 💞 posting this early just in case someone unfollows 🙄 but i'm sadly not done with the event yet so i don't have any milestones planned for now so i just did this instead ;;;; maybe if i reach 1.5k i might do smth tho ??
in no order whatsoever
@starglitterz ; bye ilysm 🙁🙁 literally one of my best mutuals xdxd quill x yuyu 90k words frustrating slowburn teethrotting fluff friends to lovers asf. ok on a serious note IM SO GLAD THAT YOU'RE A LU JINGHE STAN⁉️⁉️ literally the cutest, hottest and richest man alive i tell you not 🙄 !! anyways i hope we can get to know each other more <3
@kazuqha ; im so scared to know what your "yan simping for marius" album contains ..... like literally. AND IM STILL GONNA BE INDENIAL ONE MORE TIME,,, just so i can get his event cards probably ❤ HAHA. being indenial has it's pros ok i rlly want that electrifying night sr and the symphony of the night ssr like oh my god not to ramble but he looks so hot in it 😩 i want him to kiss me so bad?*,?*@?!?@(#) ily i hope you get more zuo ran cards bc youre his wife 🤪
@noirkkat ; it's the way i've been wanting to be mutuals with you for so long bYE. I THOUGHT YOU WERE REALLY COOL AND WHEN WE FINALLY BECAME MUTUALS YOU WERE MORE THAN THAT 😍 anyways youre so sexy and stay bad 😜
@dilucbar ; let's go bili some noodle soup and egg waffles kasami si thoma and childe 😩 #conyo bye he might type in a jeje way i cant do this today HWHAHWJAHWHAHSHA anyways conyo thoma and childe our beloved 💗
@test-tube ; why are you so sweet it's too much for my health but idc youre literally one of the sweetest mutuals i have :((( we rarely talk these days but im glad that i can still see you on my dash slaps you with my affection and support asf
@baeshijima ; my fellow lu jinghe stan haha manifesting more of his cards for us <33 im so close to spend money on the matching tattoos one but 🙁🙁 i hate wasting money on games uGHHHH anyways lu jinghe supremacy insert heart
@eternism ; hi giggles i havent sent my yoimiya angst idea to you but i might do it later 😍 unless i forget again 🧍‍♀️anyways HAHA <3 ILY !!!! youre so cool?*?(?!?!? i hope you get yoimiya ur beloved bestie !!
@ganyuslily ; bye you're the only one who can understand me when it comes to mo yi insert pensive emoji they keep saying hes sus or a red flag but like,,,, idrc????? i still love him either way and i doubt mihoyo would make a love interest a literal red flag like that man,,, anyways congrats on ur xia yan again and i hope you get zuo ran's ssr <3
@kazuhavo1r ; yOUR. YOUR MARIUS CONTENT. I SCREAM EVERYTIME I GET TAGGED IN IT LIKE?&#(@?@*#(#?# I LOVE IT WHEN MARIUS I SWEAR YOU NOT 😭😭 but tho gl on ur exams/school :(( i love how we invade the tot fanfiction tags 😍
@astrealia ; xia yan <3 thats it for you LMFAO /j ok but. xia yan personal story is breaking me how can you just endure all of it wtf ily btw
bye i can't think of anyone else i am so sORRY if you aren't included ;;;;; i only rmb the ones ive been interacting more recently <//3 anyways ily all mutuals yall r so coolsies as yall should !
32 notes · View notes
emjiajia · 2 years ago
Text
A moment of angst I dreamt about;;
Tumblr media
It's like he's on an altar, a sacrifice in the name of justice.
86 notes · View notes