#but i hope this is at least a bit close
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@austerulous said:
“Do you know of the acreage you hold in my heart?”
Soft-spoken words disturbed the quiet, a gentle affront to the deathly company they kept. The only souls that drew breath in this makeshift graveyard, they sat side-by-side, hip to hip, Anri’s head at home on Creighton’s shoulder, snow-white tresses mingling and bleeding with pale blonde. How warm they were, how full of blood, as they huddled in the grim shadow of the cathedral.
“I have something for you.” Careful rummaging in a leather pouch produced the gift. It nestled in the well of Anri’s palm as she presented it, shining in a shade of cyan reminiscent of summer waters. A prism stone, luminescent and inappreciable, it had warmed her pocket through the ages, kept her company through more graves than she could count.
“It is my last one. My first too, incidentally. A gift from Horace, back when we were children.” A whimsical and sentimental keepsake, one that few would see the value in. Creighton would understand though, she was certain. Creighton would treasure it.
“I should like for you to always have a little light. To know that I love you, and that I will carry these tender feelings beyond the veil of true death.” How sweetly their fingers brushed, as Anri deposited the glinting pebble into her friend’s dear hands. It had been a curse to live this long, but there was a gift in meeting him. Gratitude bruised her aching heart.
Surrounded by moss-draped tombstones, the consecrated earth stippled with meadow saxifrages and cuckoo flowers – and with the bones of beloved-by-one children crumbling beneath their boots – Anri pressed a lingering kiss to Creighton’s pale, mottled cheek.
There are very few things in the world that carry more weight than the sound of Horace’s name on Anri’s lips, or the importance of their friendship bearing its beauty within her bleeding breast. Creighton knows this well, and immediately understands the depth of the ocean that dives deep within the pale stone that is placed into his palm. He knows this…
And it breaks him like a wooden arrow against a dragon’s hide.
Indeed, he’s so in awe of the gift’s every silent meaning — his breath and beating blood holding each other, choking, by the throat, ‘til neither lungs nor heart can catch any air — that he almost misses the softness of his dear friend’s lips as they grace the scattered freckles beneath his eyes. But the warmth is hard to ignore. Like a church candle’s gentle flame being held to his dappled cheek.
“Anri, you…” He has no words. He cradles the stone in the palm of his hand as one would cradle a fragile duckling, or the egg it had hatched from, knowing full well that something so beautiful deserves a much more tender hand to rest within. One like Anri’s. One like a saint’s. One so, so unlike Creighton’s. “This… I’m…”
Truly, though, what is there to say? A “thank you” would be nothing but a breeze against the stronghold of her love. A hug is too forward, he thinks, from his bearlike arms, and his scarred and split lips are unworthy of feeling her skin with a returned kiss. His words would be gawky as a pauper to her beauty’s porcelain princess. And so, he is left there, dumb as a doe and just as anxiously, innocently wide-eyed as his mailled fingers flex around the glowing stone.
A century passes, it seems, before he finally inhales the frostbitten air.
Gods, how he wishes he could pull his heart from his chest and hand it to her as one would a wedding ring.
But because he cannot…
…
Creighton swallows hard, and he doesn’t need to think twice when a very, very strong feeling begins to pluck his heart’s harp strings. “I, ah…” Pause. “…I got somethin’ for y’ too.”
His free hand moves to reach beneath his cloak.
Once upon a time, there was a lonely harpy who lived in the dunes. Not in a parable sort of way — very, very truly. And she had a very special friend.
Of course, it was Creighton. A much younger, much more volatile — could you imagine? — version of the now-Finger, gruff and gritty, vulgar and venomous, but always eager to chat with his feathered friend about the ups and downs of their lives — the churning of the sands, literal and metaphorical, and the way the spiders spun their webs. Creighton was confident and calm in the knowing that she would hold him to her black-downed breast during the times when he had nowhere else to go, even if her avian ears were unable to fully comprehend the reasons why he cried; and she, too, could flutter to his door when she craved a type of murder different than that which stained her customers’ swords. She was a comfort to him; and, indeed, he was to her. And she had a peculiar way of showing her love.
Her crow’s covetous brain treasured all things smooth and shiny, and Creighton would often find trinkets and curios left on his doorstep. Oh, how his to-be husband would snicker at the rubbish, amused by the knight’s closeness to the she-bird, his foxlike fingers studying the curves of beast bones and broken porcelain faces.
But to Creighton, each one was a treasure.
As was she.
Time passed, and bones turned to dust, and dolls’ eyes shattered into shards, and feathers disappeared into the unforgiving winds of a world left to crumble. Every gift. Every memento. Even the harpy herself.
But one treasure remained.
And it is heavy in the pouch that hangs from Creighton’s belt.
Creighton is not a man made of eloquence — poetry has never once fallen from his lips. He speaks in grunts and groans and cussing and curtness. His language is one of beastmen. He has no way to articulate this story of friendship, fondness, and forced separation that swaddles the small object he wraps his fingers around. He hasn’t the first clue how to explain the heart, soul, and sentimentality of what he pulls from his pocket. And, were it to be a gift given to anyone else, he might even feel silly for assuming the other would think the thing as anything more than a simple relic — something to sell, or to trade, or to use in a pinch.
But as he places the radiant lifegem in Anri’s palm — the golden, gorgeous gem, still sparkling with the souls of warriors past, and just as too-humanly warm — and he raises his eyes to meet hers, he knows she will read the words within them, and understand.
“Gift from an old friend,” he manages through the lump in his throat. “I’m, ah… If I get t’carry some a’ your light an’ love, then I think you oughta be able to carry a bit a’ mine. I can’t always be there t’protect the ones I care about, y’know. But, ah… at least with this, you’ll always ‘ave a bit a’ extra help if somethin’ ‘appens.”
The smile he offers seems almost… sad.
But only because he wishes he could do more.
As he releases his hold on the lifegem, the prism stone finds itself at home in the now-empty space in his pocket. And so, once again, he feels his friends’ love radiate through him like a sip of warm tea.
He’s always been bad at I-love-you-toos.
#creighton [muse]#austerulous#i have been sitting on this ask for like. at least a year i think.#it’s so beautiful and meaningful and touching i knew nothing could ever hold a candle to it#but i hope this is at least a bit close#ty puffin your stuff is beautiful as always💕
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prototypes rad coolness
#just know this. he would be my favourite if pilby didn’t exist#any time i see a robot character anywhere it’s like im struck with the force of billions of peoples’ love toward that robot#i just Need March 9th…. Need March 9th now……#ALSO DONT MIND THAT MOST OF EM HAVE LAMPERT. its my fun little pairing…….#it makes sense to me and i like it because apparently one of the floors proto can be found in is 3008 where lamp also is#and yknow robots are like some of the cleanest and least germy things around yknow#regretevator#regretevator prototype#regretevator lampert#odieart#ALSO WITH HIM AND LAMPERT#they both seem to have this theme with both their characters of just wishing they could be like everyone else i think#like…. them both having a bit of insecurity with the way they are.. just another thing that i think would make them close#i really really really like them i hope they have at least one interaction#protolamp
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regarding: colour me in – okay yall, i've been working on this chapter and writing and editing it since like 4pm and it's 10pm now :') i gotta go to bed in an hour and don't think i will finish. would y'all be okay if it dropped tmrw or later this week? 🥺
#also im rereading the beginning n some bits are oof lol they need heavy editing#so if i manage to finish it tmrw i might post tmrw? but if not i might have it beta'd and post sometime this week#is that okay? i know some of you were looking forward to it so im sorry dont be mad lol !! <3#but it IS done at least so we're getting there!! vvv close!! trying my absolute hardest!!!#hope you're around when it drops 🥺 love you#fic: colour me in
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broke my streak at seventeen-nearly-eighteen days clean and don't even feel better as a result
#tw sh#i had hoped that after that long at least i might be going a bit less deep but n o p e#like it's not deep enough that it would need medical attention of any kind or anything even close to that but it's still deep enough that i#will scar. though what's a few more scars when im already scarred#i want to die#tw suicide#ofc i won't but i just. ugh. hopefully choir tonight will make me feel a bit better#personal#puddleglum hours#i was completely fine until i had a sudden compulsion to self harm so i straight up Did which is absolutely stupid
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[[ok gang i am genuinely so sorry to be doing this literally RIGHT before the end of the event but i've got a whole buncha stuff lining up irl that i am starting to reeeaaally need to address/prioritize and there are a couple things that i still want to do for the "finale" here that i haven't had the time to set up, so all of this is to say iiii need to take at least a day or two to Slow Down And Chill for a bit
I haven't entirely decided if this means I'll take a full break like i have been for the weekends or if I'll just post a little less than I have been, it depends on how I end up feeling really. I will absolutely try my best to make up for the days I've missed tho! I have something pretty cool planned that I think has the potential to be pretty fun, just like i said I gotta set things in place first haha]]
#ooc#i was gonna work on a whole buncha things today but i. UGH. ended up hanging with my roommates instead 🙄#and ive actually been uh. yeah maybe a little Unwise with all this & working on it real late into the night and i am feeling it Catch Up#i'm really really hopeful that the stuff i need to set up shouldn't take more than like a day or two#and then maybe i'll still post a lil extra just to make up for it lol#but with about a million final projects (if i never have to write another fucking essay again i will ascend to the heavens) coming up-#- i am being forced to think maybe i will prioritize sleep a bit. for like a day at least#again i am sooo sorry and tbh im apologizing more to myself than anybody else so dont actually worry. but AUGH WE;RE SO CLOSE COME ONNNN#ahem. yeah you get it lmao ty for being such a cool audience so far <333333 i will return SOON!!!!!!!!!!
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okay, so i believe it's time to talk about what kind of powers misao possesses. let me start off by saying that she is by no means invincible and/or invulnerable: so, she can be defeated in combat, of course. i just wanted to affirm that with y'all because she does have an enhanced healing factor. but unlike a regenerative healing factor, which heals a lot of things pretty much automatically, it does still take a good amount of time for her to heal. i'd say it's just a bit faster than a human's ability to heal, and so she can not do things like regrow limbs / reattach her head.
BUT to counteract her lack of a more proficient healing ability... misao and all jorōgumo can produce very sharp, silk-like threads and manipulate them to their liking to attack other's + create constructs out of these silk threads that can be used as weapons. and thus, one could argue that she has a certain 'advantage' over humans since this is a long-range attack, which would mean only they would have to get closer to her in combat if they didn't have any long-range weapons themselves. being a spider in actuality, misao can also make webbing that comes from within her. also, because of her true nature as a spider, misao can control diminutive spiders or just regularly sized spiders at will.
another, and her last ability, is that she has venom available at her disposal much like a real spider that targets the central nervous system / is a potent neurotoxin ( in which she would transfer directly into someone through a bite ) buttt the thing is is that she will often not use this method of killing, and/or seriously harming someone because of how long it takes for her body to regenerate the venom. thus, most of the time, misao will only use it if she is in a very dire situation where she has to defend herself or someone she cares about.
and as a result, those who are in combat with her don't really have to worry about her using this ability unless she's genuinely on death's door or something of that nature. so yeah; i hoped this gave you all a little more insight as to what exactly she can do with her powers as a jorōgumo.
#NO SLEEP OF THE INNOCENT. NOT FOR YOU: character study.#ALL POWER DEMANDS SACRIFICE AND PAIN: musings.#SOMETIMES AGAINST ALL LOGIC WE HOPE: headcanons.#also... she can bite people without injecting venom but most of the time that just isn't a very efficient way for her to fight-#since that would mean that she would have to get up close and personal with them which she really only prefers doing if she absolutely has-#to. so like... you could definitely say that i picture misao as being a very methodical / practical opponet-#unless she REALLY doesn’t like you. then misao will probably elect to ' play with her food ' and make thing's a littleee bit more-#complicated to say the least. and by that i mean misao is going to make sure you're in pain before you die sooo JSJSJ#she really isn't a good person y'all ☠️ though one COULD make the argument that she is merely trying to survive since she cannot digest-#almost anything else but human fl*sh and insects properly + have it give her the nutrition she needs to live...#but NAHHH. I ain't about that life LOLLL
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taking a break from working to say man. if the end up having to cut content to fit everything in 24 episodes, my favorite chapter of dungeon meshi is almost certainly getting cut skdjfhglj
#again i have no idea if they're going to try to fit everything into 24 episodes#or if they'll come back next season with another 24 to finish it up#but thinking about the story as a whole#i feel like my favorite chapters are some of the least crucial to the story overall in terms of broad strokes#which has me like damnb . . . . . . . . i was really hoping for it skdjfhlgkjsdf#again ! ! ! there's no use in me exhausting any thought over it#because either it happens or it doesn't and it's not like me thinking about it will change that#but man. i want. the changeling arc animated to badly it's so funny and one of my favorite bits of the story sdfjhgljksdf#shapeshifter arc too because oughhhh the insights into everyone's perceptions of one another ksjdhfgljsdf#like of course i am awaiting griffin soup like a hungry dog because WAILING WAUHHGHG#and the chances of them cutting that are Low unless they're like#speed running the end of the story or pulling an original fma and just outright writing a new ending that gets them out of dealing with#(gestures) literally everything that happens in the second 50 chapters of the series#though that feels less likely considering that they've been sticking to the manga pretty closely even after The Tone Shift#um. i. um.#i should probably get back to work and stop worrying about dungeon meshi huh.#um. i just hope we get the changeling arc that is my final message change da world goodbye
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Rating: T
Categories: F/F, Gen
Relationship: Jillian Salvius/Mother Superion (implied)
Character: Mother Superion (Warrior Nun)
Additional Tags: Introspection
"She makes her way back to Jillian, battered and bleeding, but there is no consolation in store for her. A circular cross awaits and she must nail herself to it now, for the glory of God."
An exploration of what's going on with Suzanne when she stays behind "to protect the ark" and the consequences thereof.
#warrior nun#mother superion#doctor superion#warrior nun fanfiction#the challenge closed so i can post this at ao3 and link to it from here :)#this is... kind of prose poetry-ish? i guess? so it comes and goes with rhythm and sounds and whatnot#i am physically unable to keep things simple even for fortnightly challenges it seems lol#anyway. hope you enjoy it. i'm a bit torn on it myself but the friends who read it liked it and i hope other readers will as well!#narratives and similar#at least ao3 isn't hiding the word count on this one lol the last one still shows word count as void and tbh i find it hilarious
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Summary: A little scene of fix-it: things end between Mahiru and her boyfriend before they get too bad.
I enjoyed everything about I Love You and this just came to me in the middle of the night -- I wrote it out in like two days lmao. I don't know if a carousel is considered an "attraction" by amusement park standards, but the pun made me too happy to pass up 🎠
#milgram#mahiru shiina#shiina mahiru#just a quick thing I had to get out of my head and made me unbearably emotional about Mahiru all weekend ASDFSD#the half-asleep vision i received was so incredible and i hope i could put down at least a bit of it#i was (and am) literally So Sad over how hard shes trying in the wrong ways#and her misplaced pride/self love#and how they were So Close to having a happy ending#OUGH#fanfic
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pull of the tides for @1dreligionfest
zayn/harry+louis/niall | poly | explicit | marine biologists au | 10k | trans zayn
He couldn’t help but feel a tangible awareness of Harry standing right beside him, clad in nothing but wet shorts that were barely doing anything to hide his body. Zayn gave in and snuck a glance, watching the stream of water run over the curve of Harry’s pecs, gathering in a river between them.
He blinked when he noticed Harry watching his gaze. He was smiling, and he lifted a hand to his chest, letting one finger trail down the hard brown expanse of a nipple. Zayn stared, mesmerized.
“Zayn,” Harry said, a smile in his voice. “Would you like to kiss me?”
or, they’re all at a research station and zayn is struggling with guilt and shame. crustaceans abound
read on ao3
#this story is very close to my heart but life’s been happening so i hope i’ve at least done it a tiny bit of justice!#much gender love as always#big love 1dreligionfest for the support!#1dficvillage#tracksintheam#1dsource#hlficlibrary#trackinghome#trackinghappily#yourlarrysource#hlsource#hlcreators#hljournal#zarry#narry#my fics#sage lobster tag#my lobsters#🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀
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One day ill find a combination of words 2 truly express to u guys how down bad i am for the second doctor but i havent found it yet
#my friends who i watch the show with. hi ignore me#im sorry#at least i hope this makes you understand how like. how much i hold back when we watch the show#i am being so proper and polite#I AM WORKING SO HARD EVERY DAY#AND YOU GUYS DONT EVEN KNOW#THAT IM LIKE SO CLOSE TO SCREAMING WHENEVER HIS VOICE DIPS DOWN A BIT#im good. bye#kurjatxt#m:doctorwho#c:doctor
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im gonna sound a bit too negative with this but... does anyone in s2 have a meaningful relationship with other players anymore?
it just feels like everyone is secluded from everyone else and like (in character) no one trully knows anybody else
#empires smp#empires s2#everyone in s1 had someone they were close with and would interact often#the wra. pearl and sausage. scott and gem. jimmy and joel were best friends. katherine and lizzie#joey and sausage. pix always helping everyone#everyone or at least the majority was close to someone else#but this season is like neither of them knows or cares about the others#the contrast is almost sad#at this point im lowkey expecting joel or scott to see bratwurst and go “well that was a bit weird but that's just sausage”#like zero realizing something is off and thats just sad#i get it if the cc cant always interact. if this is part of the plot then i hope we get to see them actually getting to know eachother soon#maybe im just a dumbass who picked all the cc that are allergic to social interaction this season#and any other pov has 5 cc interacting per video
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thinking about how the people around me, particularly people i dont know anymore, impacted my fantasy setting. the raccoon people i added because of a friend who wanted to be a raccoon. goblins existing in the way that they do because of someone i still know who really likes a specific kind of goblin, and made me like them too. even minor things, like deciding that a character's eyes were gray because the person i was talking to also had gray eyes. there"s definitely a lot of me in there, but there's still little bits and pieces of others in there too
#a pretty significant plot point for one of my characters is heavily inspired by stuff my mom dealt with#i really hope i can properly convey the gravity of the topic. particularly with tact due to how poorly i've seen it handled#in my writing i try to approach any topic with the baseline amount of empathy that people deserve. i feel *a lot*.#i sincerely hope it comes through that i care so much about so much#a particularly hurtful exchange i recently had was me casually saying that i care about a lot of things and my grandpa almost accusitorily#asked “like what”#i'm generally pretty open about what's on my mind. i try to connect with people time and time again and so often do i get nothing in return#it makes it hard to go on. sometimes.#one day. i hope i'll meet someone who cares as much as i do. cares about me as much as i care about them.#if i meet even one it'll have all been worth it.#part of me feels like saying “i can't bear to live like this anymore”. but i can. and i have. i can bare a lot actually#i don't think i'd be alive if i couldn't#there's a lot wrong in the world right now. i can't bear to watch most of it. this of course makes me feel even more guilty#at the very least i've made a habit of clicking the arab dot org buttons daily. i can't handle watching but i can at least help.#in a small way. that is.#i definitely feel like i needed to get that out of my system. rambling is what i do. after all#i feel like i have an abnormally strong will to live. i remember coming very close to a suicide attempt once. the razor actually cut into my#wrist just a little bit. i very much wanted to die at that point. on an emotional level#but i just couldn't do it. i need to live. i just need to. it'll have all been worth it. eventually.#eventually.
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There's a man vomiting loudly outside (potentially in our parking lot, but I'm deeply in an overstimulated autism thing rn and i simply cannot be arsed to get up and check)
I would normally, but there's already a man out there interrogating him and like. I'm sure he's well-intentioned, but I lost my shit at his opener of 'Hey buddy, you having a good day?'
He's being violently sick in public; i think you can assume he's not enjoying this day.
#text post#im hitting the shower in a few minutes then after letting myself have an edible (held off all day for various reasons)#then i wanna get as close to wizard high as possible and disappear into Minecraft with Housemate for the night lmao#don't get me wrong today was actually very productive for me#resumes sent out decent amt of prolific done a new fic started and some drafts worked on#plus dishes done#but like. idk. my brain is very fast and angry and tired and i don't wanna be in this headspace#and i think i just overwhelmed myself with stuff a tiny bit today bc like. i know when im at the edge of it sometimes#but it's too easy to force myself past it in the name of productivity then deal with the fallout after#as i type this i realise i also need to clean the downstairs bathroom fan and forgor#but!! i forgot to mention i was able to get a belated bday gift out to my mum! got it ordered to b shipped to her at least lol#v glad I got that done#tw emetophobia#anyway i feel terrible for this guy and hope by the time i leave the shower he's doing better
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Summary: After getting badly injured, Ingo isn't sure where he keeps waking up. But there is always someone he doesn't recognize, but knows he loves, with him. Emmet is equal parts happy and stressed over Ingo's return home.
Ngl, the first part of this chapter is probably one of my fave things I've ever written
#submas#subway boss ingo#subway boss emmet#like i poked at it for a good while trying to make it perfect#and i think i did it#or at least came as close as i could#either way i still really like it#also the second part is fun and a bit of a wild tone shift but i couldnt find a better place to but it#whatever i think its fine#anyways#hope you enjoy!
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Whumpril 2023 - Day 25
Thank you @comfy-whumpee!! I was so excited to write this and get to borrow Jhazel!! Mariano would do anything for her, it turns out, and no one is surprised.
TWs: violence, human shield
Heart Racing | On the Run | “We’re being watched.”
It was always nice to visit Jhazel's cottage whenever they were in the area. The forest was beautiful, and the air always felt healing. How much of that could be chalked up to Mariano's increased sensitivity to magic was still up for debate, but he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.
Jhazel was wonderful company, too. She'd welcomed himself and Bastian into her home when they'd first met, helped get a deep wound tended to, and didn't ban them when the people who'd caused it showed up again. She understood what it felt like to have a history that you were trying to improve past.
Naturally, this meant that when they visited, Mariano and Bastian insisted on helping out as much as they could to make her coming weeks a little easier. Cutting firewood, helping prune the garden, helping with any canning that needed to be done, the mundane work was safe and familiar. Both of them took a sense of peace from it.
That didn't mean they were oblivious though, even surrounded by the safe, nurturing magic of the forest.
Mariano saw the subtle shift in Bastian's posture as himself and Jhazel worked in the garden. The set of Bastian's shoulders became firmer. His rhythm of splitting wood only slowed just a hair.
Mariano felt it too. A prickling at the back of his neck that sent tension creeping up his arms. "We're being watched." Mariano whispered as Jhazel nodded. She closed her eyes, and the smell of her magic--and the forest's--began wafting through the air.
In an instant, Mariano saw ten figures descend on the little cottage. "Get the witch!" They declared, triumphant and eager.
Mariano jumped to his feet, pulling his sword from his sheathe. He couldn't light his blade up with his magic, not here in the forest. Bastian couldn't shift either, not without risking harm to the trees and plants. That was alright though, he thought as he parried one swing and rent a horrific gouge into the man's side.
He needed to stay close to Jhazel. His own armor wasn't the best, mostly being leather, but it was better than not having armor at all like their gracious host. "Get inside!" Mariano shouted to Jhazel, grunting as his sword's hilt caught another strike from someone new. "We'll hold them off!"
Jhazel didn't make a move for her door though, only standing as the earthy smell of the magic of the forest intensified further. The wind almost seemed to shift as someone fell, catching a thrown hunk of firewood to the temple. Her magic was powerful, far stronger than Mariano's could hope to be. It seemed to require so much focus--but she knew what she was doing. He had to trust her.
Howls echoed through the brush, distant but getting closer.
Mariano finally overpowered his immediate opponent, sending him stumbling backwards. One more slash of his sword made sure that he stayed down. The wind picked up, the birds going quiet. All he had to do was guard their host. He could do that.
Bastian barely had a chance to shout before magic crackled past Mariano's face. The hair on the back of his neck rose as the smell of pure winter whizzed just in front of his nose. A mage.
Mariano whipped around, locking eyes with the most dangerous opponent in that clearing.
As a third swordsman charged in, and three more converged on Bastian, the mage fired another blast. This one clipped Mariano's shoulder, pulling a breathless gasp from him as he was sent sprawling away from Jhazel from a sword swing. The winter's grip made it even harder to keep his hold on his blade, to keep his coordination. He rolled to his hands and knees, managing to block another swing before it connected with his neck.
Jhazel had the final two swordsmen charging at her when the howls pierced the air again. Massive shapes tore through the brush, flashing teeth and snarling as they leaped to intercept the attackers. The men were brought to the ground with shouts, pinned beneath the massive wolves.
Mariano didn't get a chance to see if they were spared. The opposing mage had started to close the distance with Jhazel, brilliant light shining at their palms. She was a powerful mage, but Mariano knew how strong of a spell that was going to be.
The man struggling with him knocked his sword from his hands, and Mariano only just managed to keep his balance and break away from his fight.
There was no time to think. She'd done so much. She'd been so kind. Mariano couldn't let her get hit.
He barely noticed the wolves sprinting towards the last two targets, he barely heard Bastian roaring as he smashed his third swordsman into the ground. All Mariano could see was the horrible shine intensifying and the tell-tale finger twitch of a cast being completed.
"No!"
In a flash, in an eternity, in silence, in cacophony, Mariano only just managed to get in front of Jhazel.
A cold more pervasive than even healing magic cracked through Mariano's body as the spell from that mage hit home. He couldn't even scream as it ripped straight through his leather armor and clothes without being buffered by any of it. It sank into his chest like the rush of an icy lake and latched its teeth into his lungs. He dropped to the grass, breathlessly curling into himself as his limbs locked up.
Two more wolves took down the mage and final swordsman. Quiet descended again. As quickly as it started, it was over.
The intense smell of forest magic eased. Hands that felt like they were on fire pressed to his neck. "Bastian, help me get him inside." Jhazel? That was her voice. She sounded focused. She sounded okay.
Bastian's worried voice sounded next, and larger, even warmer hands carefully lifted him up. "That was some awful spell--you have a cure or something?" He asked, and Mariano curled into his hold, voice stolen by how tense his throat felt.
Jhazel didn't answer, instead the clinking of her rummaging through cabinets filled the little cottage. "Toss some more firewood into the fireplace." She said. "There's no cure for cold magic like that, just like there are no cures for any burning that your fire causes. But we aren't helpless."
Water filled what Mariano dimly recognized as a kettle, and the smell of wood starting to catch filled the air around him. Mariano tried to open his eyes, catching the blurry shape of Bastian's hair sparkling around his face.
"Sit, Bastian, right there. That chair should get plenty warm when this fire gets going." Jhazel said, as calm and unflappable as ever. "We'll get some color back in him soon."
The gentle clank of the kettle being hung over the fire told Mariano that tea was probably getting made. Her footsteps left, as Bastian adjusted his hold on Mariano. His legs were draped over Bastians, and both of his dragon's arms looped around his waist. When a blanket was draped over Mariano and tucked in around him, Jhazel finally seemed to be satisfied.
She sat beside Bastian in her own chair, one hand reaching to tug the blanket more securely around Mariano's knees as silence fell. The crackle of fire and warmth slowly seeping back into Mariano's skin lulled him. He let his head fully rest against Bastian's shoulder, eyes drifting closed. Everything was still too tense, it was too painful to even think about moving more than absolutely necessary, but as the minutes wore on that began to ebb.
"That was...brave of you to do." Jhazel said, when she pulled the kettle from the fire and started pouring the tea into a mug. "Here, Bastian, help him drink." She said, and Mariano felt Bastian's arms shift. Warm, spiced tea was brought to his lips. As he sipped, it started to thaw out some of the ice that still seemed hell-bent on eating through his vocal cords.
He sighed when Bastian pulled the mug away, and one of Jhazel's hands patted his knee. "I would have been alright, if that magic had hit me." She spoke gently, as though she didn't want to discount what he'd done. "...Thank you, though, Mariano."
It was easier to look at Jhazel this time, even as his aching body protested the small smile he gave her. "...Always." He managed. "You kept...kept us safe before. Wanted to return the favor."
Jhazel laughed, so gently that Mariano almost thought he imagined it. "Next time," She said. "You can just get me some preserves from wherever you've been."
Mariano nodded, smiling despite the gentle chiding. He'd make sure to remember her request. It wouldn't stop him from taking another hit for her if it was necessary, but...a little gift couldn't ever hurt, either.
#whumpril2023#whumprilday25#we're being watched#jhazel#mage of violence#dragon of diamond#human shield#whump#comfort#magical whump#this one got a little bit long but I think I'm finally happy with it#Jhazel has such a specific voice and vibe I really hope I got her at least close#thank you for letting me borrow her!!
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