Jan 26
in the very end, the only thing that can free you (from art block) is the power of true love
(and maybe the desire to see more cyclonusxparagon on one's dash)
seen from Ireland
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Iceland
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from Bulgaria
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Belgium
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Iceland
seen from South Korea
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Philippines
in the very end, the only thing that can free you (from art block) is the power of true love
(and maybe the desire to see more cyclonusxparagon on one's dash)
TF Fantasy AU: Paragon
There are things about being alive that you have missed dearly. Headaches are not one of them. You’ve managed to forget how it feels to get them - the stabbing sensation above your eye. Most of the time, they’re not so bad. This one certainly isn’t. You can make do.
At least no one needs your expertise right now - Highfire is still holed up with the other mages, poring over the half-crumbled notes of Magnus’s once-teacher. You’ve gathered that among her many flaws, bad penmanship and a tendency to use strange abbreviations was a significant one.
You settle down on the bed and bury your face in the pillow. The darkness helps with the headache, but unfortunately, you do have to breathe, so you turn around and resign yourself to suffering until the damn headache passes.
“Headache?” Cyclonus asks, as he sits down next to you.
“Mhm,” you hum. “It’s not a bad one.”
“That, as I remember, can encompass the ones that really are just mildly unpleasant, and ones that are actually pretty damn painful, just not as bad as the worst one you ever had,” Cyclonus says with warm exasperation. “Which type of not a bad one is it?”
“Not the worst I could have, but still unpleasant,” you admit.
“I’ll pull down the curtains and get you a cold cloth to put over your head,” he says. You feel the bed shift, as he gets up again.
“Stay with me?” you ask. Sometimes, even silent company is too much. But not today. Today, you want him close.
“Of course,” he says. You can’t hear his steps - if he wants to, Cyclonus can move almost inaudibly. There’s a splash of water, after a moment - the cloth. And then, a moment later, the bed shifts again. “Turn around, so I can put this on your forehead.”
You do so with a slight groan. Something cool covers your forehead. You crack an eye - not really smart, because the pain gets stronger, but worth it nonetheless. You reach out to take his hand and kiss his knuckles, then close your eyes again.
You feel the bed shift, as he settles next to you. He doesn’t let go of your hand.