[ DROP ] : sender unexpectedly collapses in front of receiver, having suddenly received a serious wound. { reverse!Miran to Garth - perhaps corruption misuse or such? \ O \ }
prompts that make you go 👀
"Miran!"
Her name rips from his throat, as though it would be the last time it's spoken, the soft chime to follow such a pained scream sounding out of place, the men before him seeming to hesitate for some reason, before they both drop to the floor dead, daggers stuck in each of their throat. Usually, he would pause to either make sure they were dead, or see if there was some way of keeping them alive - but none of that even crossed his mind. He barely even took note of the aura's changing colour - no.
His full attention was on the blonde to have dropped from the sky, blood coating every inch of her skin, her hair matted with blood as red angry sigil like markings glowed against her skin, Garth staring with wide eyes as the light around her form began to shift in colour.
This was all his fault. If he'd been just a little quicker, a little better at fighting, he'd never have been taken in the first place and she'd never have had to rush here to save him. His heart ached as he sank to his knees by her side, reaching out to gently clasp one of her hands between his own, a deep breath taken to ease the sense of panic that threatened to overtake.
This was actually the hardest part. Having to sit there and wait for her body to finally give up the fight, for her the blood loss to become too much, for death to finally claim a woman who fought constantly against anything that the world tried to throw in her way. Reviving would be far quicker, far easier for Miran - and so he sat there, holding her in his arms, tears dripping from his chin as he watched the last few breathes part from pale lips.
"...this...this is why...this is why you shouldn't be so close to me", he whispered weakly, leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss against her closed eyes, mentally preparing himself for the task ahead. Not that there was any hesitation - he'd crawl through hell for this woman - no, he just had to prepare his mind to stay conscious enough through the pain that was to come, so he could absorb as much of the damage from her body as possible.
"...I wish...I wish I never had to see you die ever again...".
If Dazai was here - she wouldn't have needed to. He'd have been able to save her without having to wait for her to experience death and pain....Garth frowned, shaking his head to clear his mind, pulling out another bell from his pocket, watching the golden light that shimmered around Miran's corpse, "...thank you. I know you hate whenever I do this so - please forgive me. I can't live in this world without you, Miran".
And with that, he shook the bell that would bring him the world of pain - the sound of this one much sharper and harsher, seeming to cut into his very soul, a shrill scream breaking free as pain hit his body like a truck. Every fibre of his body felt as though it was on fire, blood pooled in his mouth, making him choke in slight panic as his skin ripped apart, spilling blood on the cold ground.
No matter how many times he experienced this, the pain from corruption was one of the worse he'd ever experience - it ripped him apart, his vision filled with nothing but red - until his body finally fell over the edge and death took him into their embrace.
Only for a moment.
Or at least that's what it felt like to himself. He felt the last dregs of anger and desperation that Miran had experienced as she tore apart the area she'd found him in, the building nothing more than ruins now. He felt her anger, love, enjoyment for the battle, the bloodlust that drove her forward despite the pain - and then nothing. Nothing but darkness and a strange numbness that made him feel cold. Yet, there was always that part of him that longed to stay here...
Such a fate, however, was never granted. Much too soon, the wave of pain hit hard as he gasped for air, coughing out some of the blood to still pool in his throat. Miran was still unconcious it seemed, but although she was covered in blood, there were barely any wounds left on her body at all. Garth had taken on the majority of the damage to have been caused, as much as his ability would allow.
Slowly, with shaking arms, he dragged his broken body closer to Miran's side, before promptly passing out. She was safe now, she was alive and free from the clutches of death. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how much he had to to suffer to keep this woman by his side - he'd gladly face it a hundred, no, a million times or even more.
