"I love you, I love you, I love you." [Dying in their arms]
Warings - Death, mentions of illness and injury, hurt/no comfort
Characters - Xiao, Childe, Kamisato Ayaka, Venti, Scaramouche/Wanderer
Word Count - 1410
Xiao
He held you in his arms. If he wasn’t so concerned with hurting you, even now when blood slid from your lips and down your throat, he would be crushing you against his chest. But his hands cradled your body tenderly, so softly he was practically hovering them around you, not wanting to taint your already dying body with his karma.
Tears gathered in his eyes, but he forced himself not to cry when you two made eye contact. He wanted to, archons he wanted to ball when he saw the light slowly dim from your pretty eyes, the eyes he was admiring not so long ago.
“Why?” He couldn’t help but whisper. “I could’ve protected myself.”
You opened your mouth, only for no sounds to come out on the first try. You swallowed harshly, the taste of blood making you want to vomit, but you didn’t even have the energy for that. “It was instinct.”
It was then Xiao finally let those tears fall. It was instinct? The instinct to protect him? You loved him that much? He hugged you closer, pressing his forehead against your own so he could hear your breaths, your shallow, dying breaths. You protected him, you loved him, and he loved you.
Slowly he kissed your cheek. “I love you.”
Your forehead. “I love you.”
Eyelids. “I love you. I love you.”
And finally, the lips that had taken their last breath. “I love you, so, so, much.”
Childe
Fighting beside you was a dream for him. Both of you engaged in the thrill of battle, taking out enemies side by side with equal grace and power. He loved it, loved seeing you in his domain, loved seeing you kickass. It put a smile on his face knowing his lover was like him, powerful.
But everything powerful eventually falls, and you did it for him. So caught up in the heat of the battle, a rush going throughout his whole body, he didn’t notice the one enemy that was creeping up behind to stab him through the heart, but you did.
You had pushed him out of the way, the sword piercing you like a hot knife through butter, right in the heart where Childe was meant to get hit. The sword was pulled back with a metallic whine as Childe saw red. He doesn’t remember what he did, or what was happening until his body hands were holding your head and pressing down on your heart.
He was mumbling reassurances, desperate pleas to stay by his side and do everything you’ve ever dreamed of doing. Hysterical nonsense was the only thing to be heard besides your quiet breaths and the drip of blood as it painted the field alongside the bodies of the other enemies.
You used the last of your strength to cradle his cheek, accidentally smearing your blood on his pale, flushed face, but neither of you cared. You mumbled out a returning ‘I love you’ as you body went limp and Childe screamed.
Kamisato Ayaka
You didn’t know the woman in front of you, but she obviously knew you with the way she flittered about your room. Was it your room? You couldn’t recall. The memories were hazy, and your limbs were heavy.
Ayaka had never been more scared out of her mind when Thoma had dragged you home one day saying you had gotten in an altercation with the Tenryou Commision protecting an immigrant merchant and had lost your vision. You had been beaten, that was obvious enough, but what she was really worried about was the lack of vision, with only bad things to say about the condition of those who had lost theirs.
Ayaka was right in her worry as you began to deteriorate before her eyes. You stopped knowing how to get around the house, you lost recognition of some of the house’s staff members, you would wander around, eyes glazed and thoughts foggy. It was only about time when the memories of Thoma, and Ayato, and her started to fade.
You would lean away from her kisses, struggling to remember her name, and stayed in your room when moving became too difficult. Your body was going along with your mind, becoming a corpse right in front of your forgotten lover’s eyes.
When you took your last breath, you were too weak to lean away from Ayaka’s hands. They cupped your face gently, her delicate finger wiping away tears you didn’t know the origin of. The last thing you remember was the sound of her crying, her tears dripping on your face as she hovered over you, desperate to see some last spark in your eyes before they finally went out.
She whispered to your still body. Pleas of adoration for you to come back, to open your eyes and look at her with recognition and love once more, but you couldn’t, and she knew that, and it only made her cry harder.
Venti
Your head was in his lap, hair spread across his thighs haphazardly as he caressed your face with such gentleness it felt like a morning breeze. You could feel the pain anymore, the one that had traveled through your abdomen to your heart. It had been stabbing in tune with the beat of your heart, but now, laying here, it didn’t hurt so bad.
The feeling was leaving from your feet, limbs becoming numb. You tried to twitch your fingers to reach up to your beloved’s face. Tears had begun to slide down his cheeks, but a stoic, empty smile was on his face. Why was he crying?
“Are you alright, love?” You had no idea why it took so much effort simply to speak. Your mind had begun to fog, eyes, unknowing to you, had glazed over slightly, making you look like a doll.
“Yeah.” Venti murmured, trying to make his smile more joyful, but you could hear the lingering brokenness in his voice. “Everything’s alright darling.”
“Why’re you cryin’ then?” Venti heard the slurring of your voice and had to bite down a new wave of tears. He thumbed the skin under your eye, rubbing away any lasting tears of pain.
“I’m just so happy to see you again. You’ve been off on your adventures. It’s nice to see you back home ya know?”
Venti leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Why don’t you go to sleep darling? We can do something fun in the morning.”
“Okay.” You felt exhaustion settling in your bones, going limp entirely now. Black spots entered your vision as you felt your consciousness fade. “I love you.”
Venti let out a wet laugh. “I love you too.” And with one final kiss on the cheek, you were gone.
Scaramouche/Wanderer
“You can’t do this to me!” His grip was tight, almost too tight, but you had lost feeling in a lot of your body a long time ago and now a previously bruising grip became a comforting pressure. “You can’t fucking do this to me! Are you going to betray me too? HUH?!”
He couldn’t control himself as you simply sat there, wrapped in your blankets with a content smile on your face. You were leaving him. Didn’t you understand how much it would hurt, living everyday for the rest of eternity wishing you were there?
You had been sick your whole life. No doctor had ever lied to give you hope that you would live past twenty five and so you made the most of your time before you had to move on. Content with death since the moment of your birth, you strayed away from many relationships as they would benefit nobody but misery in the long run.
But something about Scaramouche just pulled you in.
You gravitated towards him, and he to you. Caught in each other’s orbit you danced for however long you had left. Unfortunately, it just wasn’t enough time. Cradling Scaramouche’s cheeks with your weak hands, you swiped away the ugly tears that marred his beautiful face. Pulling him to your chest, you immediately felt his arms circle your waist.
He tucked his face to the crook of your neck as he cried, pleaded. “Please don’t leave me too. Please, please, please. I love you. I love you so fucking much.”
Scaramouche heard as your heart stopped beating, your chest staying still. Your arms fell limp from where they had wrapped around his shoulders in a loose hug.
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Gentle
Pairing: Task Force 141 (not specified) x Reader
Wordcount: 891
Summary: You were always gentle, no matter the situation. Even if he didn't notice until now.
Content Tags: Fluff, Reminiscence, Interactions with Children, Canon Typical Violence, Mentions of Human Trafficking, Heavy Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, Mentions of Death, No Use of Y/N
A/N: Just a drabble ;). Maple Syrup will be updated most Fridays/Saturdays. I don't have the time during the regular week to be able to take the hours needed. You are more than welcome to request something! I'm encouraging it! As always, content under the cut and requests are open <3.
He wished he could've known you. More than the violence you used to get through missions, more than how big you made yourself seem when out at a bar after a mission with the 141. And when he really thought of it, he knew what you truly were.
Gentle. Not a word often used to describe military personnel. But you? That was one of two words anyone could've used.
It was a silent mission. Just something to pick up intel quietly and leave, nothing else. You were outside a coffee shop and he watched a little boy run up to you, stopping directly in front of where you sat. You gave him such a big smile, leaning down and listening to what he said into your ear.
You leaned further to grab his jacket and get the zipper to zip, rubbing his shoulders for a second before sending him back off. If the boy knew exactly what you had under your own jacket, he would've ran off screaming.
But he didn't, because you knew what you were doing when it came to kids. They understood when you were direct, and you always were. It was never trying to reach the point in a way you would assume that they'd understand, but in a way that any normal person would understand.
You didn't underestimate their knowledge. All people learned in different times so you assumed that the kid would understand what you said. It wasn't a bedazzled explanation with butterflies and puppydogs, it was straight to the point.
During another mission, in the middle of securing a safehouse you struck a man, knife sliding through his neck like butter and you were able to turn, grasp on the knife tightening before you saw the little girl. She was curled up into a ball, hands above her head as if to protect herself.
Even with bloody hands, you had pulled her into you and brought her to the safe point. Even covered in blood and grime she let you sit her on your lap in order to check her over for marks and possible wounds, happily speaking to you and allowing you to mess with small scrapes she had on her elbows. You had to hand her over once you got off the plane, allowing protective services to take her from you.
You'd mentioned a few weeks ago that you kept in touch with her, and the little girl was now going into year ten. You'd had such a nice, gentle smile on your face as you recalled the girls boyfriend, how he would buy her flowers randomly. He didn't mind how you'd mentioned you would do some unspeakable things to him if he hurt her.
Even when you shot a man point blank, you took your time to ensure the body was out of the way, to not get trampled over. You respected the dead, no matter if the dead had been shooting at yourself and the rest of the 141.
And as gentle as you were, you were equally violent and angry. The only time any of them had seen you like that was during a mission busting a child-trafficking ring. There was no respect, there were no mercy kills. You shot where they'd take ages to bleed out from and made sure they hurt while doing it.
When you'd finally finished off the last man, releasing the kids from where they'd been chained up, you'd given them little smiles and spoke oh so nicely. Follow this big, scary man now. He won't let anyone hurt you, you'd told the first group.
He wasn't sure what happened when you'd disappeared for some time. You didn't talk about it and he learned to not mention it. All he knew is that when you came back outside just a little bloodier, your eyes didn't have you in them.
It was when the kids had smiled and waved at you that you came out of it. Your smile, this time, hadn't gone to your eyes like it usually did. You waved back, letting them hold your hands if they wanted to and making sure they had what they needed while waiting for a medevac.
Water, food, just a hug. You did whatever they needed and didn't let anything stop you. He'd tried, sure, but you wouldn't rest until you knew the kids were completely safe.
So as he sat there, coughing up blood, he could only think of how gentle you would be. How you would try and tell him that he'd be okay, that there was nothing to worry about. That the blood was natural and that he was going to be fine, you're going to be fine, god damnit. Open your eyes!
And maybe he had closed his eyes, but either way his vision had tunneled too much for him to see. He could feel your hands, gently trying to stop the blood as you felt the tears pouring down your cheeks. There wasn't much you could do, you knew. You didn't want to give up, your mind racing even as your hands found his and you held them, grip gentle.
Because that's what you were. No matter what, you'd be gentle to those who needed it. And maybe you would be just as gentle with the next person who came into your life.
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