"Nurse me" or "Fight me" //I CAN'T DECIDE, so whichever one sounds more fun!!!
DRABBLE PROMPTS
She’s cold all over - too cold to feel, too cold to hurt, just numb, which is a welcome relief. She doesn’t feel like her insides are being sucked out through the head of a needle any more; always a plus. She knew stabbing herself in the side was going to hurt - and maybe she should have guessed that having your soul leak out of you and be devoured by another being would be kind of unpleasant - but nobody actually told her. It’s not like she has a precedent for that kind of thing.
It’s either a really shitty way to die, or a really noble one, and she still isn’t sure which. Does she have time to lie here and consider it before she’s removed entirely from existence? How long does it take to die, exactly? If nothing hurts, then it must be over, but how is she still thinking if her soul just got turned into an angry old man’s breakfast-
Then, very suddenly, everything hurts again.
She’s cold still, but now she can feel her body - she can feel the way her muscles are twitching and electricity is crackling through her flesh, dispersing into the ground beneath her. She gurgles something unintelligible. Warmth flows over her side, and she twitches at the uneasy feeling of magicka pulling her flesh together. Sounds are returning to her, slowly, tinny and distant at first but growing clearer. She realises the heavy breathing isn’t her.
“Naal fin bormahsemoro-!” Miraak’s voice is strained. She cracks open one eye, then the other, half blinded by the sudden light but fighting through it to peer down at him. "Gods confound-” suddenly he notices her eyes are open, and then there is a hand on her cheek, and her vision fills with dull gold. Grey eyes glare at her - he doesn’t just look mad, he looks furious. “Why did you do that!? What possessed you-!?”
He’s yelling in her face but things still sound that little bit far away. She finds herself smiling, her arms as frail as withered plants as she lifts them, puts her hands on his shoulders. He goes still. It takes a moment to summon the strength to speak, and her voice comes out hoarse and weak.
“So you do care-”
She can’t say she isn’t expecting the smack - it doesn’t stop her laughing, though.












