"This is how you fall in love. Let go and I'll hold you up. So hold me tight and close your eyes, oh, my love, side to side." — This is how you fall in love
Js a very very short fic to soft launch my tbate obsession...
As the only man capable of holding his ground in the face of Asuras, the burden of everyone's hopes in achieving freedom rested on his shoulders. On Arthur, and Arthur alone.
Though Arthur despised the idea, the feeling that everyone's expectant gaze was cast upon him didn't cease out of respect for all he had done.
Not only did he defeat the young Asura, Taci, alone and protect them from harm, but he's also protected Dicathians from the threat of the wraiths that dared invade Vildorial whilst they were still in the middle of recovering from the loss. Everything Arthur did, the people of Dicathen benefited from.
As a result, everyone had viewed him more and more of a hero, casting their trust upon him without care for the young man who simply longed for a simple life with those he cherished.
For them, Arthur Leywin was no longer just a boy, but their only chance at salvation from the gripes of despair.
This, in turn, had caused exhaustion to occur on his already wary soul. He's lost too much; and as he feels himself returning to being the very same man he swore to never become in this life, he barely holds himself together to remember what he was fighting for.
For the sake of his family, of his friends, and for everything he holds dear. he whispers. But oh, was he tired.
In moments where doubts clouds his mind and renders him conflicted. In moments when he finds himself slowly falling apart, losing the pieces of himself that was nurtured by the people he loved in this lifetime, he turns to you for solace.
Crashing into your makeshift home, his shoulders sag the moment he sees you in the living room, leisurely sipping on tea whilst reading a book.
"You're still awake? It's already so late at night."
You peer your head up, pleasantly surprised by his sudden visit. Still, you welcome him all the same with that sweet smile you always wore.
Shutting your book—though, not before placing a bookmark in between—you shift your attention to Arthur. "Arthur!"
You beam, placing the book down. "It is? Oh! I mustn't have realized. Time feels really wacky down here, I don't know if it's night or day unless I look at my watch at all times."
Arthur chuckles. Unbuttoning the first two buttons of his blouse, he breathes out a sigh of relief once he's finally free of its constraints and not so suffocated as before.
He sits beside you on the couch, lazily wrapping an arm around you to pull you closer. He breathes in your scent, already feeling at ease once he gets the chance to bask in your presence.
"Hard day?"
"Yep, both clans of the dwarven family continued on with their bickering. In the end, we were unable to progress much because of their hostility to each other."
You chuckled, running your fingers through his blonde locks. Tenderly brushing strands of his hair, your smile widens when you feel him lean into your touch.
"Thank you as always for your service to the nation, Art."
"It's no problem, your royal highness." Came his non-committal reply.
"Want me to whip you up a meal? I think I can make you your favorite dish."
"Thanks, but it's fine. I don't want to trouble you so late at night."
"Fool, you could never be a problem." You answered quickly.
Pulling him away from you, he resisted a bit but ultimately let go. "I insist."
Arthur looked up at your standing form. Squeezing your hand—the last thing he held when you tried to peel yourself away from him—he allows your warmth to linger in his hand before reluctantly parting away.
"Thank you." His eyes soften, golden hues appearing captivated by your ever thoughtful nature.
"No problem," you press a chaste kiss to his forehead. He flutters his eyes shut, immersing himself in the moment. A smile perched up on his lips. "It's the least I can do for you."
Picking up your empty cup to place it on the sink, your movements are fluid, done purposely for convenience. "I know I can't help much on the battlefield. I can't possibly hope to shoulder everything with you with the little magic I have in my body."
The sink opens, allowing water to freely run through the opening. "But, when you're with me, I do hope you feel at ease enough that you allow yourself to forget about your burdens for a bit."
You pause, tilting your head up to catch a glimpse of Arthur, who still remained seated on the couch, staring at you who busied themselves in the kitchen.
"I want to spoil you. You carry the expectations of many, mine included. It's only natural I pay you back in the little ways I can."
Arthur huffs, brows furrowed. He ignores the way his heart beats a tad bit faster at your confession. He was a man hardened by battle, but perhaps it was precisely because of this that he easily fell apart whenever it came to soft moments like this. Spent in the warm light of your home, whispers of love exchanged even if not by words, he's spent much of his life—both of them, living without such a warm feeling.
His lips quirk up, eyes crinkling as he follows your movements. Such domesticity was lost on him. All this time he's been fighting for his life, aiming to get stronger and stronger to protect Dicathen from all sources of external threats to the point such simple moments became far and few in between.
How long has it been since he's abandoned such comfort in order to protect and ensure the safety of his cherished ones?
He breathes out a sigh and eventually relaxes on the couch. "Suit yourself," he murmurs, closing his eyes in amusement.
"Simp. Ooh our ice princess is melting!"
Arthur's smile immediately falls at the sound of his living weapon's commentary. Almost immediately, his mood sours(playfully) at his presence.
A/N: Takes place during season six. I wrote for your man @fyuyushia ^.^
Masterlist
"Are you sure they'll like me?" you ask as your boyfriend, Arthur, leads you through the palace halls to the dining room, where his parents and younger sister are waiting.
"I'm sure," he reassures you for what feels like the millionth time. "Mom and Ellie can't wait to meet you. And Dad can't wait to fight you."
"You'll be fine," Sylvie says from her spot on Arthur's soldier.
"Thanks, Sylv," you reply, taking a deep breath.
Arthur pushes the door open to reveal a mid-sized dining room. Sitting at the table are his mother, father, and sister. "Art!" Ellie cries, immediately rushing to hug her brother. He laughs, hugging her back.
"I'd like you all to formally meet my partner, (Y/N)," he says, gesturing to you.
His mom approaches you and pulls you into a hug. "Art's told us so much about you," she tells you.
"Only good things, I hope," you joke.
His dad pats you on the shoulder. "Well, he said that back at school, you were one of the strongest mages in your element(s)."
Your face heats up. "Well, my magic's nothing special," you reply.
"Don't lie to yourself," Arthur tells you. "You're still one of the strongest mages I know."
"I'll make you something to eat!" his mom says.
"And I'd like to test your combat," his dad adds.
"Me too!" Ellie pipes up.
You smile at them. You really were worried for nothing.
𝔄𝔳𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔷𝔢 ➵ Comportamento Yandere, Minacce, Utilizzo Implicito di Droghe, Leggera Disumanizzazione, Abuso di Potere, Dubcon, Forzata Gravidanza.
𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔢 ➵ 1320
Avresti potuto dire che era piacevole quel tocco delicato, ma non lo hai fatto, come potevi dopo quello che ti aveva fatto. Tu non volevi nemmeno tutto questo, un’esistenza tranquilla, senza troppo pretese o responsabilità, per una ragazza di soli 17 anni, quale eri. Tu non eri come lui, non avevi persone ti avevano accolta con un calore tale che le avresti difese con la tua vita. Ma ancora, se ci fossero state, non avresti mai avuto una forza necessaria per difenderle, quindi era naturale chiedersi come Arthur avesse, anche solo potuto pensare di, voler stare proprio al tuo fianco.
Certo, parte della colpa, del tuo indesiderato legame con lui, era tua, avresti dovuto contenere o ignorare quel strano calore che si insinuo nel tua zona intima dopo quella bevuta insieme al ragazzo con i capelli castano ramato, ma non lo hai fatto, ti lasciata ammaliare dal suo tocco gentile quella volta come adesso. Ma certamente non potevi immaginare che le conseguenze sarebbero state cosi schiaccianti. Avevi già provato ad eliminare qualsiasi traccia delle conseguenze, prima che lui potesse scoprirlo, ma ancora ti dimenticavi spesso di quello che lui era capace. Arthur non poteva accettare la tua negligenza nel uccidere a tenera vita che stava crescendo nel tuo ventre, il rimprovero fu inevitabile. Quella volta lo avevi guardato negli occhi sfidando quella ostinata oppressione causa dalla tua disobbedienza, e avevi urlato, non avresti potuto usare un tono calma in una situazione come quella, eri troppo... spaventata, ma era normale a esserlo, ti trovavi davanti ad un mostro e tu in confronto potevi essere definita una pulce, ti eri davvero convincendo che che era normale essere spaventata. Ora però non aveva più importanza quanto poteva spaventarti, certo non quando la sua mano destra era stretta al tuo fianco, per intimarti di stare dove lui aveva deciso che dovresti stare, e la sinistra ad accarezzare il tuo ventre fin troppo paffuto per il solo 3 mese. Lui aveva provato ad interrogarti su cosa stava crescendo dentro di te. Sarà uno o saranno gemelli? Maschio o femmina? Sarà un mago o no? Troppe domande per chi, come te avrebbe solo voluto rispondergli, che sarà un mostro come suo padre. Ma avevi imparato da tempo che qualsiasi cosa avessi detto contro di lui saresti solo stata schiacciata da quella pesante sensazione di impotenza.
Ti chiedevi spesso se tutte coloro che guardavano Arthur con un tale desiderio e amore, si fossero mai accorte che tu non avevi mai voluto le sue attenzioni indesiderate? Perché Tess non lo capiva dagli sguardi supplicanti quando veniva a trovarvi? O Lilia? O ancora la principessa Kathyln? Erano davvero accecate dal loro amore per quel uomo che non sembrano accorgersi della tua sofferenza. Ma la vera domanda è se sapessero che per avere la amore di quel mostro devi rinunciare a decidere su quello che era il tuo corpo, lo vorrebbero ancora? Volevi tanto che capissero anche se questo non avrebbe influenzato minimante la tua situazione, era un modo narcisista per crederti una benefattrice, ma loro eri davvero? Eri sempre tu quella legata eternamente a quel bambino e di conseguenza a lui, non loro. Tu eri quella che doveva stare in silenzio, non loro, ma forse era bello credere che le stessi salvando.
Avresti potuto anche convincerti che eri solo conseguenza delle circostanze che fosse stato un incidenti andare a letto con lui, ma sapevi benissimo che non era cosi, ormai ne eri certa, lo potevi capire dallo sguardo ricolmo di ossessione verso di te. Proprio come ora la sua mano, quella che si prodigava a accarezzare il tuo ventre salì lentamente senza che tu potevi rendertene conto, quella stessa mano presto afferrò il tuo mento, non avevi ben presente dove fosse il tuo sguardo e nemmeno volevi ricordarlo, ma di una cosa eri certa, non stavi guardando lui, questo rappresentava il motivo per cui adesso il suo sguardo richiamava una sfida, lo avresti mai contradetto? «Amore qualcosa non va?». Deglutisci, un nodo ti si stringe in gola al soprannome, avresti voluto portargli le mani al collo e stringerle finche non pregasse per la sua vita, ma anche allora non lo avresti ascoltato e avresti continuato a stringere fino a farlo morire.
La sua presa si strinse intorno al tuo mento richiamando la tua attenzione per l’ennesima volta, e questa volta eri sicura non si fosse accontentato di una silenziosa sottomissione, non si sarebbe accontentato nel leggere nel tuo silenzio quello che lui si aspettava da te, e perderti nelle tue sciocche fantasia non avrebbe fatto altro che peggiorare la tua situazione. « No... ». Non sapevi nemmeno tu cosa dovevi rispondergli, non sapevi cosa voleva esattamente da te, quindi cosa potevi rispondergli. Era la prima cosa che ti venne in mente e quanto pare non piacque nemmeno a lui come risposta a vedere il cruccio sul suo viso e le sopracciglia arricciati in una espressione di perplessità che sembrava quasi attenuare il schiacciante intento omicida, ma solo per qualche secondo. Poi tutto torno allo medesimo stallo di prima « No, Cosa? » Ecco, la domanda che non avresti voluto che ti porgesse in quel momento, in qualsiasi altro momento ma non in quello. Non rispondi, non avrebbe avuto in alcun senso contraddirlo avrebbe rigirato il coltello fino a ad avere lui il manico e tu la lama. Quindi il silenzio era l’unica cosa che in quel momento potevi optare, e lui sembrò quasi capire. « Allora lascia che ti spieghi meglio la situazione in cui ti trovi... » Prese una discreta distanza da te, andandosi a sedere nel sofà difronte a quello dove precedentemente era seduto con te. Non era mai un buon segno, in fatto che si allontanasse cosi tanto da te, soprattutto quando eravate nel bel mezzo di una discussione unilaterale.
« In questo momento sei una ragazzina che sta per diventare madre, se ti lasciassi da sola chi pensi ti aiuterebbe, non ha ne genitori ne amici che posso aiutarti...» trattieni il respiro prima che possa finire la frase, sperando che non la finisse e che ti lasciasse in pace ma ovviamente non fu cosi, « Come pensi di poter sopravvivere? ». Che senso aveva farle quella domanda? Voleva farti sentire in colpa per la piccola creatura dentro di te, e se davvero era questo il suo intento, in qualche modo ci stava riuscendo un nodo si formò alla base dello stomaco. Te ne eri davvero affezionata a tal punto? E forse lui lo sapeva ecco perché ti aveva fatto quella domanda e ti stava guardando. No, non col lo sguardo freddo ma bensì un caloroso sorriso come se stesse parlando con la sua sorellina iperattiva o con Tessia. « Non lo so.... » Questa fu la tua risposta combattuta ma sembrò bastare ad Arthur. Si avvicinò, aggirò il piccolo sofà su cui stavi sprofondando da ormai due ore o poco di più. Si mise alle tue spalle, non potevi vederlo e ne avevi paura, odiavi non poterlo vedere per capire quale sarebbe stato il suo intento. Ti posò le sue mani callose e calde sulle spalle. Sussulti, non che non te lo aspettassi ma era risaputo quanto odiassi il contatto fisico, soprattutto quando era lui ad offrirlo. Arthur emise leggera risata, se non lo conoscesti diresti che ti sta solo prendendo in giro, ma sapevi benissimo che era solo un adorazione alle tue risposte istintive ai suoi tocchi. « Mio povero piccolo angelo... » Inalò il tuo profumo mentre posò un bacio sulla sommità del tuo capo. « mi sembra avvio che sarò io a prendermi cura di te e di nostro figlio. » ah... Lo avevi quasi dimenticato un’altra volta era lui il padre e se non lo sapessi avresti detto che si stava solo prendendo le conseguenze delle sue azioni, ma non era cosi, lui voleva tutto questo e a te non resta che lasciarti andare ancora una volta tra le sue braccia.
People hate to see me coming(no.1 Arthur glazer reporting for duty)
The grand banquet was at full swing. The dead retainer encased in ever freezing ice, put on display for everyone currently attending.
After suffering major losses, constantly losing in the war against the opposite continent—Alacrya—a moral boost was needed in order to keep the people of the nation hopeful.
And hope did Arthur provide. Bold, strong, confident. Arthur proclaimed his strength for everyone to see, playing himself to be stronger than he truly was to give the civilians reason to continue believing in the lances of the nation.
It worked, thankfully, but gosh did he bite back his words later on during his attendance in the ball.
Had it not been for Tessia's help when it came to conversing with the other nobles and keeping his posture up straight, Arthur was sure he would've buckled under the pain of his injuries and give himself away to everyone.
Arthur knew he should probably excuse himself as soon as possible—he wanted to do so—but he refused to retreat until he saw the familiar face of a friend he's acquainted himself with in this life. Someone who shared the same secret, and someone who shared the same burdens as he.
"We've already talked to the important guests, are you sure you want to keep strolling around?" Tessia's worried voice snaps him out of his search.
Arthur blinks, and looks down at Tessia. She clung onto his arm, helping him go through the motions necessary for the ball. Giving her a small smile, he nods, feeling his heart sinks with every second that passed.
Were you not coming?
Just before he could let the worry fester, you suddenly walked in, finally showing up hours after the main event.
Your arm was linked with someone—a man—one he didn't know. Dressed to the nines for the event, something he's never found you in.
A small, polite smile played on your lips, the light encasing you and the partner you attended the ball with.
His breath hitched, just a bit.
Maybe it's because it's been so long since he'd last seen you, but the sight of you—the thought of finally being in the same room as you—made his heart pace just a bit quicker.
Though, followed along by the quick beating of his heart was it sinking to his chest. Like something heavy was suddenly put on the fragile organ, leaving it buckling under the sudden weight.
His eyes darted to your parting arms but linked hands. As your partner held your hand by the tips of your fingers, he follows with his eyes as the stranger gives the back of your hand a chaste kiss.
Who was he?
He licks his lips, unconsciously hardening his stare. This wasn't like him, it really wasn't. However, the thought of you being with anyone else made his stomach churn.
What's going on?
You part from your partner with a small giggle. Retracting your arm and bringing it up to cover your mouth, you bid him farewell with the other and say something—he doesn't know what, he can't hear it—which makes the two of you laugh.
"Art?" Tessia blocks his view of you and leans closer to him. Her brows furrowed, worry laced in her features as she took in his unusually hardened stare.
Her eyes followed his, curious to see what's gotten him so worked up. Instead of seeing anything concerning though, she did find you—a friend she earned during the Xyrus days.
She visibly lit up, removing her arms around Arthur, she beams and waves you over.
"[Name]! You came!"
Her loud call made you twist your head to look at the source. Curiously looking around, your gaze eventually lands on her when she calls for you again.
"Hm? Oh, Tessia, Arthur." Curious eyes crinkled with delight when you saw a familiar face.
Wasting no time, you immediately made your way over to them, navigating through the relatively crowded room with ease.
Arthur mildly panics, snapped out of his unusually rough demeanor when he sees you coming over his(and Tessia's way) clearing his throat, he quickly fixes his posture and puts back his smile.
"You're late." Tessia huffs, narrowing her eyes playfully. "I thought you'd never come!"
You chuckle at that, apologetic for your late appearance. "Sorry, I was busy healing the injured during the recent attack. I just got the free time a few hours ago and had to rush to get here."
"Really? How is it now?" Tessia asks, lips quirked into a concerned frown.
"Better. We've healed the more severely injured ones, it's just a matter of nursing them back to health now."
Arthur clears his throat, again, and he hopes Tessia wouldn't notice. Rapturing yours and her attention, he takes a step forward to join in on the conversation.
"Seems like you weren't just idling around during these past few years." Arthur's eyes sweeps over your figure. "You've grown. Changed. You look a lot more mature now, tougher."
You smile, giving him a small nod. "You too. I see you've grown a few inches during your time away."
Tessia steps in, wrapping her arms around you in a tight embrace. "I missed you." She murmurs, squeezing you softly.
Your eyes crinkled, and you return her embrace as well. Rubbing small circles on her back, you smile softly. She pulls away after a long moment, calming down from her initial excitement of seeing you again.
Stepping back, you turn and find Arthur opening his arms as well, expecting a hug. For a moment, you were tempted to refrain from giving him the privilege, but your fondness for the man made you forego such thoughts and welcome him back.
Wrapping your arms around his waist, you give him a pat on the back. Arthur covers your body with his own, bringing you close to him as he gives a playful squeeze. You bask in the warm moment, giving him a pat on the back. Arthur holds you close, a small smile playing on his lips.
After such long anticipation he finally got to see you again. For a moment it was all sweet and wholesome, warm, comfortable.
Until—
Arthur’s body twitched under your touch, a low, pained grunt escaping from his throat.
You froze, pulling back slightly to study him, worried. "Are you alright?"
He pulls back, but you don't let him, moving closer when he tries to step away.
"Yes, I'm fine. Just a—" he winces, unable to mask his pain when you suddenly poked onto his side.
You frown when he has to hold back a yelp. Invading his space, a sharp, professional instinct honed after so many time in the battlefield immediately took over.
"Excuse me."
Your hands, once resting harmlessly around his waist, suddenly moved to his torso, skimming across his ribs, pressing gently along his sides as your healer instincts kicked in. You had a sneaking suspicion that this man might actually be a bit more injured than he presented himself to be.
If going by the way he favored resting his weight over the other, the small winces whenever he made a move that involved moving a certain muscle, then there was definitely something going on. You've seen enough injured people to know when someone was a patient undergoing recovery.
"You’re hurt," you mumbled under your breath, more to yourself than to him or anyone else.
Suddenly, without thinking about the possible consequences of your actions, you started feeling him around, pressing your fingers along his body in search of hidden injuries in the public space.
Arthur's entire body locked up.
"[Name]—" he stammered, nearly choking as your hands casually explored his chest, ribs, waist, the sides of his hips—just about his entire body.
You fail to comprehend that to anyone watching (and to that, there were many), it looked...very different from a medical check.
Reverting to your workaholic nature, you immediately pressed around, checked for any signs of injuries. You forgot the crowd, who'd care about that when there was a possibly wounded man in front of you?
Tessia, standing nearby, paled before flushing beet red, hands feebly flapping to her sides as she watched you continue on with your enthusiastic check up.
Arthur, meanwhile, had gone completely rigid, every muscle in his body taut with mortification.
Your hands were sliding up again, fingertips brushing over his chest—and that was his finally straw. Arthur finally snapped out of his initial horror and grabbed both your wrists, holding them firmly in place.
"Are you... injured?" you asked, brows knitting tighter together as you registered every slight twitch of his expression.
Arthur’s breath hitched. Around you, nobles started to glance over curiously. You blinked up at him, completely missing the suggestiveness of your actions.
"Don't." He took a sharp inhale, struggling to rein in his emotions. "Don't do that out in the open."
You blinked, surprised by his intervention. And, bless you, but somehow someway you still failed to comprehend how your actions might have seemed to the rest.
"Of course, right. I shouldn't be doing this out in the open." Checking for injuries, that is. You never know if someone in this crowd was weak to blood. "Then, shall we take this to somewhere more private?"
Tessia gasps, a hand covering her mouth. She was completely taking this the wrong way, if going by the way her face paled, then turned beet red, as if scandalized.
Arthur closes his eyes and counts to five. Social cues. Have you never heard of spatial awareness? Never took lessons for better wording of sentences? He swallows thickly. For a person who shared a similar age to him and live through two different lives, you sure were as dense as a rock.
Whilst he atleast knew how to word things better and pick up social cues, clearly you were far above caring for it.
"I'd like to check your inj—"
Before you could blurt his little secret out to everyone attending, Arthur, face burning, leaned in and clamped a hand lightly over your mouth.
"Don't. Not here." he hissed, his gaze darting around, sighing when he saw that no one had overheard.
Suddenly, without waiting for a reply, Arthur grabbed your hand and tugged you along behind him, weaving swiftly through the crowd and navigating towards a quieter corner of the palace.
Tessia stood frozen, left behind with her mouth slightly agape, jealousy and panic swirling behind her wide eyes.
...
The two of you ended up in a small guest room. A space where guests could come and rest—though, only the more prized ones had access to this space.
"Seriously," he muttered, raking a hand through his hair, "you can't just—do that—to someone in public."
You gave him a confused look, brushing his scolding aside. "Right. Sorry about that, I've gotten too used to how it was in the battlefield. I forget that not everyone is fond of seeing gore and blood."
Arthur looks at you, baffled. He shakes his head, sighing. "That's not what I meant I—" he takes a sharp inhale. "Yes, sure, it's fine."
"Alright, shirt off."
Arthur sputtered. He hugs himself and leans far away from you, scandalized. "Excuse me?"
You tapped your foot impatiently, arms crossed. "Arthur, your highness" you glared at him, referring to his title in your past life. "I can't heal you if I can't see what's wrong. Now hurry up."
He stared at you, utterly dumbfounded by your lack of skills when it came to tact, before groaning and muttering something under his breath about you being "socially oblivious as ever."
Still, after a beat, he started tugging his coat off with a grumble. You watched with the demeanor of a physician impatiently waiting for a hardheaded patient to do as told so you could get your work over with. And, honestly? It probably wasn't that far off.
"You can't just say something so out of pocket and pretend it's nothing serious." He grumbles, but you pay it no mind.
Finally, he took off his coat and undid his garments, revealing his bandaged torso for you to see.
"You haven't changed at all," he said, shaking his head, but there was no real anger in his voice. Only a reluctant fondness. "Back then, and even now."
You rolled your eyes. "And you still don't know how to ask for help properly. Back then, and even know." You huffed, having the audacity to be the one acting annoyed at the other party's actions. "Goodness, you grew up in a loving household this time with great bonds, and yet you still struggle with sharing burdens."
Arthur huffed a laugh, and for a moment, the tension between you lightened, leaving only the comfortable, chaotic familiarity you two shared.
"You have the nerve to say that about me?" Arthur quirks a brow. It's not even about the fact that he was a king and you were only a medic in your past life, it's the fact that you were probably more of an emotionally constipated person than he was that got him.
You ignored his quip, focusing more in healing his wounds. Deftly unraveling his bandages, your eyes narrow as more and more of his injuries reveals itself before you.
Angry dark bruises spread across his stomach, the sides of his ribs, trickling down to his arm and more.
"This is pretty horrible."
Arthur sighs. "Really? I don't think it's that bad, considering I went against a retainer. I was expecting more wounds, truthfully."
"This... Isn't a lot?" You look at him as if he's grown two heads. "Just because it can get worse doesn't mean it's already bad enough as is."
Arthur huffs out a laugh, at ease with you. And then he stops. Recalling a memory he just made earlier.
"right, who was that man you were with earlier?"
You hum, pausing to think. "Oh, the man I entered with earlier?"
He takes a gulp. "Yes, that man."
"Oh, he's someone I work with. He's a good one, that guy. He teaches me how to effectively use this magic thing while I teach him more practical 'healing' that doesn't use much magic."
Arthur hums. "The two of you seem pretty close."
"We are."
His mood slightly sours at that. He doesn't acknowledge it's jealousy, he thinks he doesn't have time for such frivolous feelings.
"Really?"
"really."
You nod. He scrutinizes your nod, checking for any giveaways that you might fancy the boy. Your face remains still however, and you ignore his glare all too easily.
He sighs. Feeling defeated for no apparent reason.
"Hold still," you say, gaze fixated on the wounds that marred his skin. "Seems like they've already been cleaned and all so I'll just go with straight up healing."
Without waiting for a reply, you push your own mana and direct it to your hands, allowing it to slip out of you. Faintly glowing, warm light emits from the tips of your fingers and spread throughout his body, little balls of mana attaching itself to his injuries and soaking it with it's comforting heat.
Slowly, steadily, his wounds began to stich back itself, knitting together, leaving only a scar in it's wake.
"Foolish man." You whisper, the faint light of your magic casting a soft glow on both of your faces. "Is it because you once held the weight of the world once that you continue with the habit of shouldering everything on your own?"
His gaze flicks over to you, his initial annoyance(and fluster) dissipating as he watches you work. "No."
"It's precisely because I've been blessed with company I've deprived myself off in the past that I stubbornly fight." He smiles, bittersweet. "I don't want to lose anyone. I'll stop everything that might be a threat to those I cherish if I can help it."
You don't give away any specific expression. Gaze trained on his scars, you don't give away your thoughts. Any of them. Just as you always had, and it both maddens and comforts him so.
"Is that so?"
He nods. His eyes fixates itself on you, softening ever so slightly. "And that includes you too, by the way."
You blink, expression making way for surprise. "Me?"
"Mhm, you."
You look around, unsure, and then back at him. You tilt your head, confused. "I—thank you."
He sighs. His mouth part, as if wanting to say something, but stops midway. Instead he curls his lips into a smile, small, but genuine. There was no getting through your thick skull.
I want to get Flufftober pre-written this year, so the scenarios can be longer and I won't be as stressed during October, so requests are now open for Flufftober!
Make sure to follow my request rules
All requests must be fluff
You can request for Golden Wind and Stone Ocean characters on top of everything else I write for
Send all requests to my askbox only. Anything requested in another way will be deleted
Requests are open until either I have thirty-one or September first
Please try to limit to one or two requests per person
Be as specific as possible!
Please keep all requests with a gn reader unless absolutely necessary
Any request that doesn't adhere to these rules will be deleted immediately
[7:58 PM] - He's back, tangible, different, but still the same.
As the cave threatened to sink after the decisive battle between the young yet fearsome Asura and the random man who happened to come intervene at just the right time thought the Aether portal located just in your vicinity, your body trembled from the excessive use of mana in one go.
Spending almost all your mana stabilizing the cave in order to make sure it wouldn't break down, you blocked the falling debris and ruined architecture with a barrier that encased everyone of Dicathen.
Finally given the chance to lay off on the defense, you released the spell you conjured, feeling your taut muscles quickly relaxing once finally given the chance to rest.
You panted, wheezing as you clutched your chest, feeling the backlash of your overuse. It had only been a short while, but your mana reserves had already been drained to nothingness.
That asura—Taci—was no laughing matter. In a matter of moments, he had already gone through our strongest defense—lance bairon—and slaughtered the rest of the guards that were willing to act as shields in seconds. Even you—one of the few capable mages cowered at his presence alone.
Your attempts at holding him back were short lived, just a glare, just a step, and it was already enough for you to realize that your efforts were meaningless. He easily dodged the spells, wasting no unnecessary movement as he did so.
When his eyes landed in you, shivers ran down your back.
That split second of fear had cost you Eleanor's life.
As she took the blow you were forced to take with a feeble arrow of her making, she successfully managed to rapture the attention of the pantheon.
You're not quite sure what happened next. Only that Taci went past you and focused on Ellie alone, wishing death upon her and making her suffer as he did so. You could hear her mother's hysterical pleas, using her healing magic despite Ellie being past the point of saving.
Your heart sank as you realized what happened, but you couldn't move an inch, fear creeping in as you held your breath. Should you be next you know for sure there was no getting away, terror kept you frozen in place even if your head screamed at you to run to Alice's side and protect what's left of Arthur's family.
Whilst you were caught in the throes of your own thoughts, someone emerged from the once dead portals, followed along by a whispy shadow coming inside Ellie's bleeding body.
The moments, since then, passed by in a flash. You snapped yourself out of your trance and immediately went to setting up a barrier, no matter how feeble it might be as the blonde man fought against the pantheon, matching blows by blows with relative ease.
There was a hope of winning. Your heart flutters at the thought, but it's quickly squashed when you feel the tremor quaking from beneath the ground, threatening to split apart the cave. With desperation did you summon forth a barrier, hoping desperately to keep the people safe with the remaining reserves you had. You barely used any in trying to hold off the pantheon, this was the least you could do for them.
As the people began to pick themselves up from the assault and the damages they had incurred as a result, you fell to your knees and remained seated on the ground.
You take the moment to rest, gathering your scattered energy.
Life was hard without Arthur Leywin.
"Are you alright?"
You blink your eyes open when you hear someone approaching your stature. Tilting your head up, your breath hitches when you catch sight of the approaching figure.
He was breathtaking.
Long wheat coloured hair that cascaded down his shoulders like waterfalls, mesmerizing amber hues that seemed to pierce through your own eyes, coupled with a lean physique and a skin free from any scars and blemishes—as if they had never been affected by the consequences of war.
Ethereal.
It was a word you thought of when your eyes first bore witness to this man.
But he was not Arthur Leywin.
Or was he?
He kneels down in front of you, lowering himself to be at eye level with you. You question his actions, but you don't say a word, allowing him to wordlessly close the distance.
His eyes flit over your figure, scanning your body, wincing with every injury he saw littering your skin.
You freeze. There's a certain familiarity to him that makes you halt in your tracks, makes you let your guard down and trust his intentions.
A hand goes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing against the scratch you obtained after narrowly dodging the Asura's spear. His eyes narrow as he zeroes in on the scratch, his hold quivering as he takes in your frazzled state.
"What happened to you?" He asks, swallowing thickly. His lips curl into a frown, but he forces it to become a smile, resulting in an awkward face instead. "You look horrible."
His voice is soft. Barely even a whisper. It's as if he's choking back a sob, it's as if he's known you for so long and hated seeing you in this state.
Your voice catches in your throat. Eyes growing wide as you take in his features. He's far from identical—he has blonde hair instead of the messy auburn of his mother, he didn't hold those mesmerizing azure eyes that assured you everything would be alright, in its place were amber eyes hardened after years of trials. It didn't hold the promise that your Arthur tried to uphold, but it held the resolve of someone who clawed through trials, the desperation of a man who longer to protect those he loved against forces he knew were much too powerful.
Your breath caught. The world around you—the crumbling stones, the groaning earth, the distant cries—they all faded into static. Into white noise. All you could hear was the pounding of your heartbeat and the quiet inhale of the man kneeling in front of you.
He looked far from the man you knew.
But he was also so impossibly familiar.
"Arthur...?" Your voice leaves your lips in a broken whisper.
He gives you a wry smile. It's tired, it's scared, but nonetheless comforting. The perfection you immediately associated with this man falls apart. Though no scars marred his skin, ghosts of the challenges he's gone through reflected in his hues, there's a faint curl on his lips that doesn't really change into a smile, as if set in a never changing frown.
His shoulders quiver, heavy from the weight of everything he's lost and everything he would continue to lose if he couldn't pick himself back up.
Tears cascade down your cheeks as you take in his figure. It's unlike, but it's so him as well that there was no mistaking him.
One exhale, and then two, you raise a trembling hand to cradle his face. Brushing away a stray strand behind his ear, another tear falls.
"Arthur." You repeat, trying to ground yourself. Was this reality, or simply your delusion fueling your thoughts?
"Yes?"
You gasp. Your lungs squeeze, contracting, breathing becomes difficult as you process his presence.
So many questions. Why? Is it really you? Why did you leave? How did you return? Why have you come back? Why do you look so different? So many confessions. I love you, thank god you're back. I miss you. I hate you for all the months you left me alone. I despise the way you had to leave. I'm sorry.
So many words you wanted to say. But all you manage to croak out is a tearful:
"Welcome back."
And that's enough. Even if you can't say everything you mean to say, it's enough. Arthur chuckles, but even that is weak.
"I'm sorry, did you wait long?"
"You already know the answer to that."
You lunge yourself at him, arms wrapped around his neck and your face buried against his chest. Sobs wrack your chest, sniffles leaving one after the other as you process his return and the fear that you've kept contained ever since his supposed death.
You don't have the strength to ask, and you only wish to bask in his scent. He understands, and so he keeps you close, wraps his arms around you and keeps you pressed against his chest. His hand brushes your hair, giving it gentle strokes as you continue to weep in his arms.
He's real. Tangible. There. You feel his warmth, hear his heart's rhythm, he's here. He's here and so you allow yourself to cry.
He doesn't say anything, doesn't want to. His voice would definitely crack if he did, he'd find himself acting too vulnerable if he did. You always did have this effect on him. Somehow, someway, you piece back his humanity.
So he holds you tighter, as if anchoring himself to the one thing in this world that doesn’t ask anything of him but to be. Not a king. Not a savior. Not a weapon. Just Arthur.
His hold on you never wavers, he refuses to let go. As you lull yourself into a sleep brought on by exhaustion, relief, and terror all at once, he smiles softly.
He presses a chaste kiss on the crown of your head. He can't promise you safety, even if he wishes he could, there's no denying the fearsome strength of the enemies he'd have to battle from here on out. He can't promise you safety, but he vows that he'll get stronger for everyone's sake.
For a future brighter than now. For a future where you can smile without the worry of the next day staining your momentary joy. If not for the world's sake, then for yours.
Be the change you want to be or however the saying goes. If no one's gonna supply me with tbate fanfics then I'll do it myself💔💔
