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bxstiae · 4 years

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⚜ ; [ HEALING && SCARS / HC.6 ] CHARA. STUDY │ DEVELOPMENT

i’ve been thinking about this for days now & i just didn’t know how to go about it. mainly because there’s just so much to unpack with it. i suppose to put it simply -- link doesn’t have MANY scars. well i mean.... i suppose he does but many of them are... barely visible ( i.e. they are simply just discoloured lines/markings for the most part. ) he’s not scar ridden -- which is crazy to think but it has to do a lot with how many of his woulds in battle were treated. most of his injuries that would have scarred him were treated rather quick & with magic which causes him not to scar... ( which i will also discuss in this post ) but that being said... link does have !!! some scars that are extremely visible. partially cause they weren’t healed/taken care of in time.

anyway, i suppose i’ll break this up in parts for you though. I’ll start with what scars he has though. and then get down to the nitty gritty details of why he doesn’t have them && his sources of healing. HERE is a ref for his back i suppose? it’s just a quick doodle o a sticky so it’s not anywhere near from perfect, but the tags are also very important to note as well. anything else is going to be under a read more. read at your discretion. obviously this talks about injuries so keep that in mind alright? i really don’t wanna bother with tagging cause this is your warning now. if you need me to tag it then by all means please let me know.

TRIGGERS CONTAINED: injury, stabbing, impalement, electrocution, near downing etc.

THE INJURIES

BACK

right shoulder -- from an arrow hitting him. it had snapped in the middle of the fight with the arrowhead still lodged in him && stayed there long enough to do some serious scarring. he couldn’t stop to take it out due to the fight. simply had too many enemies on him, and when midna took it out, they were nowhere near a spring nor did they have any faeries on them to patch it up.

gash-like scare on lower right side of the back -- from a poe. the scythe hit him hard enough to severely wound him. the faerie on hand could have either given the strength he needed to finish the poe off, or heal him completely. he chose the former as he wouldn’t be able to live otherwise. midna was able to teleport him soon after to save him from bleeding out but not soon enough prevent the scar. recovery time took about a week before he could get back on his feet.

stab-like wound from dynalfos on left side of his back. the tail-whip attack stabbed him and he genuinely didn’t realise until after the adrenaline from the fight wore off. he felt sore, and when he reached, he felt blood. being nowhere close to a spring he && midna spent a good hour or so looking for a faerie. they ended up having to cauterise the wound too so he wouldn’t keep opening it up in their frantic search. so by the time they DID find a faerie it was more for the pain && replenishing energy than anything.

LEFT SHOULDER

a reason why link doesn’t like flying. a kargarok grabbed him with its talons and pulled him upwards. in the desperation of trying to have it let go of him, it clawed him well enough. he fell into the water and was ultimately drowing because he couldn’t move his left arm at all. it was a zora ( who was heading to the water temple ) that pulled him out. that same zora was the one who brought him back to get assistance for his wound -- not knowing that they could have easily taken him to lanayru’s spring. so instead of being healed how he normally goes about, he was tended to the ‘old fashioned’ way. thus a scar

FRONT

he’s been impaled by a chilfos spear in the lower left abdomen.

there’s discolouration on right side of his chest from a burn ( not super noticeable )

WRISTS/ARMS

reason for his bandages actually -- kept getting cuts and scratches as a farmhand. had also burned himself a couple of times as well. mayor bo said enough and told him to wrap up his lower arms.

they’re just various cuts that turned into small scars as he didn’t know about the spring’s magical healing properties at the time nor was the hero’s spirit awakened at the time.

left arm -- discoloured but not at all severely from a venomous sting/bite.

LEGS

right leg -- there’s an electrocution scar on his lower leg. again, not at all bad as time progressed.

link’s injuries on his arms && legs have mostly healed up tbh -- from his constant bathing in the springs that is. but the ones on his back, front, and should still remain and are reminders that even he can scar. he’s not immune to injury. and he doesn’t have that perfect skin that you think he has. anyway moving on.

HEALING

SO... as i have mention in my other post. there are 3 reasons for his unnatural/magical healing.

attunement to the triforce && the its brand. the light spirits && their springs faeries

I’ll start in order tbh. but keep in mind that the latter two are the most IMPORTANT ones for link’s healing -- ESPECIALLY the light spirits && their springs.

TRIFORCE

being the hero of courage has it’s perks. that begin that there is a natural affinity towards magic. this means that most all other people? cannot get healed. at least not in the way that link can ( being healed by faeries or the light spirit springs ). the brand makes him able to tap into some of that magic. whether he knows that or not is still a question. it could be that it just naturally comes out at times -- or it could be that he knows and when he is able, he uses it. regardless being the bearer of the triforce means that theres some of that magical essence that can help him along the way.

he may not be immortal, nor does this power make him so, but his soul is everlasting. so that is something you have to take into consideration. it’s a special soul that is bound to being life for an eternity, so it will have some magical properties to it.

LIGHT SPIRITS && THEIR SPRINGS

consider it like magical holy water if you will. these springs are blessed by the light sprits’ powers. which, in turn, help the hero along his journey. simply standing in it produces healing effects ( as you can see in the game ). but bathing or immersing youreself in it, you’re getting the full healing powers of the spring.

the water helps with just about any and all injury/pain. ( almost all pain ). while it cannot heal a broken heart by any means, it’s capable of soothing one’s body. it is very HOLY in this aspect. so naturally link will seek to bathe/cleanse himself when he can.

the spirits themselves possess healing powers. they can -- if you are a child of LIGHT -- help you to an extent. however their light is extremely strong, and sometimes can do more harm than good. so if you are, lets say somebody who isn’t a natural born triforce weilder and/or your soul is tainted in some way/shape/form, it could hurt you, make you sick, or even kill you. which is why you would want to go for their springs instead. cause the water has only a fraction of the light spirit’s true power but is capable of healing all the same.

one thing to NOTE, however, is that the springs do you better if you just recently sustained an injury. it’s fast acting as the wound is recent. but the longer you wait to go the the spring, the harder/longer it is/takes to heal you. you don’t want to wait on it. mainly because the spring cannot guarantee that you’ll be healed 100%. if you don’t go right away, then you’ll be left with a scar. end of story.

faeries

these creatures are much like the spirits of light, in that most of them are healers. since they do tend to hang around the spirits’ springs, it just goes to show you that they have a deep rooted connection with those light spirits. the special thing about faeries, though, is that tehy are quite versatile. their healing abilities can range.

they can prevent death by granting a ‘second chance’ while VERY RARELY, you’ll come across a faerie that turns back the time just a little bit, all faeries that have healing magic can turn the internal clockwork of link -- cause his body to experience that time-like effect. they can either do that, or just BRING him back to life by giving him that energy.

they can also heal link RIGHT on the spot, just like the springs can, thus preventing him for obtaining a scar. however it’s just the same as the springs, you have to do it right then and there. the longer you wait, the less likely it will work.

i think?? thats about it in regards to this subject though? i know i am a bit scattered with this but i just wanted to let you guys know where i look at with link && scars. i’m not saying he has baby soft skin. but it really does speak VOLUMES in regards to how little scarring he has despite how many near death experiences that he’s had. && thats jut cause he’s lucky to have such places to go to for healing. it’s not because he’s careful. don’t get me wrong. he is NOT careful by any means. in fact, if we look at him and what he’s done with himself in some of these fights? you wouldn’t be looking at the same cute face you’re looking at right now. he just simply knows how to TAKE CARE of himself. or rather.... he’s bee fortunate enough to have these places. which, mind you, he kinda takes a bit for granted sometimes. not ALL the time. but enough to where he probably would have an oh shit moment if these things weren’t readily available or accessible.

but anyway, if you wanna know more about this. you can always ask lol.

#⚜ ; — [ ʰᵉʳᵒ ᵒᶠ ˡᵉᵍᵉᶰᵈ ▲ headcanon. ]#[ alright i've done enough ]#[ im gonna take a break now ]

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tyrannysaurusfloof · 5 years

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Anonymous asked:

Do you remember welcome to the game? I kinda (extremely) want a fic where after jackaboy man gets kidnapped, he gets to the doll place to be turned into one, but gets saved by the others (I want some gore though)(I am very sadistic wow)

TW - there is gore, mutilation, amputation, and descriptions of slaves and hints at sex slaves!

Accessing the deep web was not advised in all the tutorials telling Jackaboy Man how to do it, but the deep feeling inside him to fight injustice sent him into it, after playing Welcome to the Game in Jack’s stead. If he could find out the true locations of the Red Rooms, he could potentially save the people from their fate. What he wasn’t expecting, as he sat at his computer attempting to get access to one of the rooms, was for someone to pop up next to him, as they had during the game itself, leaving the creepy, haunting music box sounds of the Doll Maker echoing through the room as Jackaboy was dragged away from the computer.

Blackness enveloped him even as Jackaboy tried to fight, swinging for his attacker. Whoever it was they were strong and agile and had the element of surprise and it was a losing battle from the beginning. Consciousness eluded him, and Jackaboy felt as if he were floating in nothingness, a comforting feeling but a feeling outside of control that he didn’t enjoy.

Pain was the next thing he knew.

His suit had been taken from him, but the mask had been kept on his face leaving him naked except for that. He felt numb, unable to truly move as he felt someone’s hands on him. Jackaboy blinked his eyes open, and a bathroom slowly came into focus. He had no idea where he was, but it was cold and he had no idea who was touching him but their hands were coursed and he hated it.

Struggling, he felt the hands still.

“You’re awake, I see.” A voice said.

Distinctly male, the voice had an accent that Jackaboy didn’t recognise, although there was something about it that reminded him of Schneeplestein and something told him he wasn’t in Ireland anymore.

As more of the room came into focus, Jackaboy realised he was lying in the bath and the strange man, wearing a mask over his face, was washing him down with scented soaps. His hair had been pushed back from his face and washed previously, and Jackaboy shivered at the idea of what this man had done to him while he had been unconscious.

“Don’t try to talk.” The man ordered, continuing to wash him even as Jackaboy tried to free himself from the bonds on his arms and legs. “Or move.”

The man slapped him, hard, and lights burst in front of his eyes. It didn’t discourage Jackaboy from trying to get free, this was something he needed to do. Fear was beginning to pierce his gut, and a helplessness that he didn’t know where he was, how long he had been there or what this man wanted to do to him.

“You’re going to be a special one.” The man cooed, “I’ve never done a male doll before.”

“D-doll?” Jackaboy coughed the word out around a gag tied tightly around his head, but the man seemed to understand exactly what he was asking.

The manic, enthused expression on his face made Jackaboy quiver. Turning off the shower he had been using to clean Jackaboy, the unfamiliar man forced the hero to his feet and dragged him from the tub. Jackaboy tried to remember details, anything he could of the bathroom in case he needed them to escape later, but his head felt foggy from whatever had been used to keep him under, and movements made everything lose focus again.

Upon leaving the bathroom, Jackaboy was hit with the smell of death and decay. His stomach turned and were it not for the gag he would have vomited. He had to swallow the urge back down as he stumbled along with the man, unable to walk properly but keeping his balance by sheer luck. Wherever they were going was close to the bathroom, and soon the man was opening a door and revealing to Jackaboy a room where a girl was chained to the wall.

Jackaboy was glad for the gag, as it cut off the strangled scream he wanted to make at the sight of the girl. She had no arms or legs, only metal poles protruding from smooth, white stumps. These metal poles were attached to an O-ring which was what was keeping her chained to the wall. There was no reaction in her to seeing the man with Jackaboy in his hands, she merely tilted her head and surveyed them with eyes that told Jackaboy she had been like this for a while.

“Aren’t you looking forward to matching with my darling?” The man asked, so excited it made Jackaboy’s stomach twist again. “I think you’re clean enough for the procedure to start.”

Instinct kicked in and Jackaboy tried to fight, but the bonds on his arms and legs were too tight to break with sheer power, and whatever drug was still in his system was affecting his superhero powers. The man was easily able to hold him still and inject him again. The last thing Jackaboy remembered seeing was the girl, leaning against the wall, and a strained sorrow in her dead eyes.

–

When consciousness returned to him again, Jackaboy’s entire body was numb and he had a headache, but he blinked through the pain to identify where he was. The room was clean and clinical considering where they were, and when Jackaboy turned his head to the side he saw surgical tools, including a bone-saw. His blood ran cold and he wanted to struggle, but his body wouldn’t respond.

“Hush now.”

The man was there, standing outside of Jackaboy’s view, but that didn’t stop the hero thrashing his head around to try and see him.

“I decided you’re going to be a special project for me, since you’re my first male.” The man hummed, “You’re going to be awake during the procedure, and I’m going to rig up a camera so you can see exactly what is happening.”

Jackaboy tried to speak but couldn’t, his tongue heavy in his mouth. He would beg if he could, beg this man to let him go, but he couldn’t, and the man seemed unaware of his plight, happily setting up the camera by his feet before moving around to his head to set up a screen that Jackaboy could see.

“Someone is going to pay top dollar for you.” He sang, “They believe you look like someone famous, but I do not care who you look like, just how well you behave. Will you behave for me, pet?”

Mustering what strength he could, Jackaboy bit at the man’s fingers when he trailed them down his jaw, earning him a swift slap, that he couldn’t even feel but that still left him disorientated. The screen came into view, with a perfect image on it of his own legs. And despite not being able to feel them, Jackaboy knew they were his own legs, knew from the scars he had obtained during his time as a superhero, from the miscoloured nail of the big toe on his right foot where had ran the door over it and bruised it…he just knew they were his legs.

For now.

The man disappeared again, and Jackaboy saw the bone-saw disappear. Eyes glued to the screen, he watched the man draw a perfect line just above his knee cap before putting the saw to skin and beginning to push it back and forth. Blood gushed forth immediately, and even though he was full of anaesthetic, Jackaboy screamed. He couldn’t feel any pain, couldn’t feel the saw tearing through skin and muscle towards his bone but seeing it was nearly as bad. The man was still talking to him but Jackaboy couldn’t hear him, he couldn’t hear anything over the wet sound of the saw, over his own screaming, over the splattering of blood.

When the man reached the bone, he paused for a moment, and Jackaboy watched him packing gaze to the wound to help stem the bleeding. The crunching of the saw going through the bone made his stomach heave, but Jackaboy was kept perfectly still. Screaming himself hoarse, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the gruesome sight above him. The camera had flecks of blood on it, the man was completely covered and Jackaboy was starting to get dizzy. With a sickening sound, the bone of his thigh snapped in half, leaving his leg attached by only muscle, sinew and skin, which the bone-saw made quick work of.

All Jackaboy could taste was sick in his mouth, and he was crying harshly, his mouth open in a silent scream as the man moved his amputated leg aside and pulled out a cauterising tool. It was strange, seeing his own wound cauterised to the point that the bleeding wouldn’t kill him, and it felt even weirder, since Jackaboy was able to feel some sort of sensation from the tool. When the man stepped around the table to his other leg, Jackaboy’s vision started to fade at the edges. He couldn’t watch that again…couldn’t go through the knowledge that he was about to lose another leg but his brain was too active, too fired up from the knowledge to allow him the sweet comfort of unconsciousness.

The sounds were just as worse this time, and this time, Jackaboy could feel some sort of sensation. It didn’t hurt, but he could feel the saw moving across his skin, through his muscles, and the sight of it was enough to make him dry heave again. It was so red, so stringy and clinging to the blade as it slowly sliced down to the bone. And his bone…so white against all that red. Jackaboy couldn’t feel the blood, but he could see that the entire bottom of the table was swimming red, and the man seemed to be taking the greatest pleasure.

“You will be the greatest doll.” He whispered as he began to saw the bone.

Something smashed in the corner of the room but Jackaboy couldn’t take his eyes off the screen. The man screamed something, a curse or a warning, and suddenly, on the screen above Jackaboy, the man fell forward across his ruined limbs, a knife sticking out of his chest.

The screen moved, and Jackaboy vaguely wondered if it had been replaced by a mirror.

“Where’s Scheep?!” A voice – one that sounded just like Anti – demanded.

“Oh my fucking god!” and “Holy jesus!” followed, and Jackaboy thought those voices belonged to Chase and Marvin respectively.

“Schneeplestein get the fuck in here!” Anti was yelling again and Jackaboy slowly began to realise that the other egos were indeed in the room with him.

“Jackaboy! Jackaboy! Can you hear me?!”

It was Marvin standing above him, cat mask pushed up off his face, which looked slightly green and his eyes were ablaze with worry. Chase was next to him, looking so pale he almost seemed like a ghost, and when Jackaboy looked past them to where the screen now rested, he saw Anti retrieving his knife from the dead stranger.

Schneeplestein finally entered and did a double take at the scene.

“Can we save this leg?” Anti asked, gesturing to the leg that had only half been cut through.

“It may be possible, but ve vill need to be quick.” Schneep replied, immediately going for the tools abandoned by the side of the bed. “Jackaboy Man, my friend, I am going to put you to sleep. Vhen you vake up, this vill all be over.”

Jackaboy didn’t have the strength to respond.

–

The bed he woke in was comfortable, warm and clean. He was also dressed, and pain free and the room was familiar, his own back at the house they all shared with Seán and Signe. Marvin and Chase were sat by his bed, Chase playing with a fidget spinner and Marvin reading, and on the other side, Schneep was checking his vitals.

“Ah, you are avake.” He exclaimed, alerting Chase and Marvin to the news.

“W-wh…what hap…happened?” Jackaboy coughed as he spoke, and Schneep shushed him quickly.

“Do not try to talk. It vill be painful for a few days.” He said, “As for vhat happened, Chase is the best to explain.”

Chase nodded. “Well, you were playing the game, that Welcome to the Game thing for Jack? And then you decided to go into the deep web yourself? You were actually kidnapped dude, and taken to that guy who makes dolls? He’s a real person, they actually transported you across Europe. That’s why it took us so long to find you! And why he…managed to start work on you before we did.”

“Anti’s currently tracking down the man who kidnapped you, and the one who ordered it and wanted you to be made into a doll.” Marvin added, “He’s out for blood.”

“As he should be.” Schneeplestein sniffed, “Vhat he has done to you is horrible.”

“My…legs?” Jackaboy asked. He couldn’t feel anything below the waist, and there was a terrible moment where he thought maybe the damage had been irreversible.

“Ve saved the leg that he did not amputate.” Schneeplestein confirmed, smiling comfortingly at Jackaboy. “As for the amputated leg, ve had to get creative, especially since he cauterised the vound.”

“Dr Schneep worked wonders though!” Chase declared, “He fixed your leg back on.”

“You vill be facing intense physiotherapy to get full use of your legs back.” Schneep warned, “But I believe you vill be able to be back out there fighting crime again.”

Jackaboy smiled and felt his eyes prick with tears. “Thank…thank you for…co…coming to…sa…save me.”

Schneeplestein, Marvin and Chase shook their heads, “You’re our brother, Jackaboy, we wouldn’t leave you to those creeps.”

“Now, get some rest, you vill need it.” Schneeplestein ordered, before ushering Chase and Marvin out of the room. “If you need me, press that button and I vill come.” He added, before closing the door.

Jackaboy lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the blood, the muscle and bone breaking, and he could hear the noises. Breathing erratically, he refused to sleep, forcing himself awake so he could drink in the safety at being at home among the other egos. They had come for him. And he would get over this.

After all, he was a superhero, the world needed him.

#jackieboy man #jackaboy man #jse egos #dr schneeplestein #antisepticeye #chase brody #marvin the magnificent #tw gore #tw mutilation #tw amputation #tw slaves #tw sex slaves #repost #prompts #so queue me

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spacedadpicard · 6 years

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hohoho

Submission from @born-potty

There was dull throbbing in his gut. Almost like the residual aftershocks of Red Mountain exploding full force.

He tried to open his eyes. See whatever was happening.

Prying his eyelids open, he could see that there was indeed movement. Everything shifted in and out of focus, though.

His body quaked as pressure was applied against his gut. It felt as if somebody was shoving a ball of energy straight inside him. It wasn’t very subtle.

A groan escaped his lips. The pressure stopped instantaneously. Something hovered over his face. Disembodied voices. Probably questions.

He tried to raise his right hand. Touch the phantom. Instead, his fingers clawed through the air fruitlessly.

The scent of roses wafted through his nostrils as his eyes closed. He felt drained. Oblivion beckoned.

Mere moments before his consciousness was stripped of him, he was able to identify the elusive phantom.

Her.

Aedan smiled to himself.

1234567890

Things had not gone the way he had thought they would.

He had thought that it would be simple enough to sneak instead Mistveil Keep, search for some incriminating documents, and leave unnoticed.

Alas, that was not meant to be.

The whoreson whom he had unmanned for molesting Madlen a few short days ago had been up and about. Apparently, Sibbi Black-Briar was no longer able to sleep at night. It was he who had sounded the intruder alarm. It didn’t take long before the whole keep was up in arms.

Aedan had been able to take the initiative and run past most of the guards before he ran into Hemming Black-Briar. The bastard had been standing before his open door with a sword in hand, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He had not expected an intruder to run past him and into his room.

For his defence, Aedan had been aiming for the window. It was open. If he could reach the window, he would be able to escape.

He had not expected Hemming to throw his sword like a javelin and inflict a three inch deep penetration on his waist, right below the floating ribs. Aedan had a foot on the window pane and though it was too late to stop the jump, the shock to his system prevented him to actually jumping. Instead, he fell three stories and landed on a nightshade bush.

Though the earth was soft, the impact was enough to jar his entire body. He had, conveniently enough, fallen on his injured side.

Breaths came in haggard gasps as he lay there, hand covering the bleeding wound in his side. Aedan was sure that the fall had broken a few things. He knew not what, what he had definitely broken a few choice bones.

His mind raced. He had to stop the bleeding. He had to move. He had to hide.

With a feral grunt, Aedan flipped his body onto his front, pulling his knee up and pushing himself with his free hand onto his knee. He then kicked himself onto his feet and staggered forward a few steps before going down to his knees again.

The world spun around him. The pain was disorienting. Everything hurt.

Aedan heard muffled yells in the distance. They would hunt him down. If they found him, well, it wouldn’t end up very well for him.

He would have to focus. Get his mental faculties in shape. He needed a goal. Something to motivate himself to reach.

Directly before him was the graveyard. If he could make it there, he could hide in the damned foxhole the Thieves’ Guild used.

Goal. Check.

Taking a deep breath, Aedan bit his lip and cast a flames spell right into his injured his side, singeing his skin and cauterising the wound. He almost blacked out on his feet. When the initial shock subsided, the pain would help him focus. Take one step before the other.

But bloody fucking Oblivion did it sting!

Standing on shaky knees, he hobbled to the stone wall of the cemetery and used it to stabilise himself. Every step exhausted his air reserves. Every step jarred his ribs. He felt a headache coming.

Normally, he would leap over the wall, but this time he thought it wiser to take the longer route and went around to the gate.

He heard the rallying calls getting louder in the distance. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he could see the distant glow of torches.

It was a manhunt.

Cursing, Aedan tore his cowl from his face and held it to the charred skin on his side. Fisting his free hand, he punched the diamond shaped symbol on the marble sarcophagus.

The giant marble slab moved back revealing a stairway straight down… to who knew where.

It was a gaping chasm straight to Oblivion. With stairs for extra torture.

Clutching his side, Aedan took the agonising first few steps. The corners of his vision darkened with every step he took and when he grasped the chain and pulled it back to release the mechanism, his body lost all strength.

He clung to the chain to stop himself from falling.

When he felt somewhat better, Aedan let go of the chain and took wobbly steps forward.

Put one foot before the other. Let the goal come to you.

Easier said than done.

A strange numbness was spreading over his torso. He could scarcely feel… anything.

At the end of stairs and at the end of his strength, Aedan found a hole, and a wooden ladder attached to the wall.

Oh, fuck these thieves.

His vision was on the verge of fading. He had done all he could. Pushed himself as far as he was able. And this would be as far as he would go.

Aedan’s knees gave way and he tumbled out of the hole.

He was vaguely aware of his body plunging into cold water. But he was too far gone to care.

Darkness enveloped him soon after. Aedan didn’t fight it.

1234567890

Everything bloody hurt.

Aedan opened his eyes and saw a girl sitting by his bedside, legs crossed. She had been reading a book, but stopped to spare him a scowl.

“You’re awake.”

Curt.

The girl then stood and walked away… somewhere.

Where the fuck am I?

The first thing he noticed was that he was on a cot of some sort. Not exactly a bed, but close enough. Plus, wherever he was, it smelled. It felt damp, too.

The man tried to sit up, but couldn’t even lift his shoulders off of the bed. The reward for his effort came in the form of a dull thudding pain shooting up from his abdomen, disorienting him.

Oh right. I was stabbed.

Memories of his most recent adventure gone wrong flooded through his mind, taunting him. Aedan closed his eyes and sighed out of his nostrils.

“You sure know how to make a sensational entrance, don’t you?”

Aedan snorted in acknowledgment. This voice he would know anywhere. The scent of roses followed soon after.

Though he didn’t open his eyes, he felt Madlen take the seat by his bedside. “If Sapphire was a tad too frosty earlier, you have to understand that you did drop like a rock into the Guild headquarters. She even had to surrender her cot to you.”

“Not exactly the most comfortable of cots,” Aedan retorted. “Sleep deprivation can lead to crankiness.”

He heard the redhead chuckle. Some part of him deep inside felt alive and died at the same time.

“How long has it been?”

“Almost a day. You aren’t the most peaceful of sleepers.”

“…did I punch anybody?”

“No.” A sigh. “You’re just really restless. It was a pain, trying to patch you up.”

Aedan opened his eyes then, locking his gaze with the rich brown orbs he had come to love so. “Thank you,” he said quietly before closing his eyes again.

“It’s the least I could have done,” was the equally subdued reply.

I can cut the awkwardness with a damned falchion.

With a pained grunt, Aedan sat up, clutching his injured side with his right hand and planting his left on the bed to keep himself upright. He felt Madlen’s hand on his shoulder, stabilising him. Her other hand went to his ribs instinctively. Aedan felt her hand over his own and turned to see a concerened look on her face, brows furrowed.

“You need rest,” she said resolutely, applying a gentle pressure on his shoulder to get him to lie down again.

Her face was too close to his, though. He felt he could kiss the pout forming on those gorgeous pink lips of hers.

Why was she so concerned? It wasn’t like they were awfully close or anything.

She’s just that nice.

Clenching his jaw, Aedan turned away. “I’m fine,” he said and swung his feet around the edge of the cot and stood, Madlen coming around the bed to help him. He didn’t deny her that.

“Yes. So fine you can’t even take a step without wincing.”

“…I’ll be fine.”

“Gods, you’re exasperating!”

Aedan couldn’t deny that he sounded like a petulant child. She was right, too, about the fact that even standing upright made him dizzy. But at that moment, he couldn’t really help but snap.

“Look,” he began. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. But stop babying me. Okay?”

Maybe it was the tone of his voice that caused it, but Madlen somewhat snapped too.

“Oh yes, sure, I’m babying you. It’s not like you fell through the entrance bleeding all over and nearly dead and almost gave me a heart attack or anything,” she spat, letting go of his bicep so he wobbled on his feet slightly.

Aedan turned to face her. “You were quick to congratulate me on my various endeavours against the Black-Briars. Did you not think that something like this would or could happen eventually? If I’m strong enough to get on my feet after being stabbed that means you ought to be happy because I can again strike at Maven. That means peace for you, your hubby-to-be and his sister as well.”

That gave her pause. Rubbing her bicep, the redhead looked away as if guilty. “It doesn’t mean I like seeing you get hurt.”

Many hurtful things he could have said at that moment in rage. He was the only thorn in the side of Madlen and Elvil’s relationship. If he and the Black-Briars cancelled each other out, it would be a completely profitable situation for the couple.

Instead, he sighed and ran a tired hand through his short hair. “I’ve outstayed my welcome, anyway,” he said more calmly. “Your boss and associates couldn’t have been very pleased.”

“Well…”

“Exactly. Hand me back my weapons and show me the exit. I’ll be on my way.”

Madlen shook her head and sighed, but did as he asked. Indeed, she went one step better and helped him walk up the wooden ladder and then the stone steps.

Aedan tried to not lean too heavily on her. It felt like trespassing on forbidden soil. Even sniffing her hair felt like a crime. But he couldn’t help it. He allowed himself this one guilty pleasure, though he was very aware that Madlen knew of his… indiscretions.

How could she not? She was a perceptive and intelligent woman. Reading the vibes of people was what she did for a living, after all.

As the marble sarcophagus slid open, exposing the pair to the fresh night air, Aedan realised the gravity of his situation.

Maven owned the Guild. Guild knew who he was. He was pissed off the Guildmaster, it was safe to say. Guild could very well just tell Maven. Even if the Guild didn’t, they wouldn’t be particularly pleased with him for cutting up their benefactors. Besides, he had not shown up at the forge. All the Black-Briars had to do was search the streets for someone missing. They would’ve figured it out. Maven wasn’t stupid.

Check, Aedan Amati.

This game is swiftly drawing to a close now, he thought as he stood on the grass, letting the cool hair envelop him. He would end it before the Black-Briars had time to get to Balimund or Shadr or Talen-Jei or Thavere or any other person he had come to care for.

Tonight, then.

“Are you going to be alright?” Madlen asked him. She kept her distance from him now after his little temper tantrum.

Aedan sighed and tilted his face upwards towards the inky black sky. He had made peace with his fate. There would be no little cottage on the foothills. No pet, no wife, nothing. Perhaps… no. It would definitely be better this way. No more lives would be ruined by the bad luck he brought upon everybody.

But then again, ending the game meant playing it fully. No regrets. And for that…

He smiled to himself briefly before shaking his head and turning around to face the woman he loved.

Dressed in her Guild wear, her hair tied up in a bun, arms crossed over chest and standing a couple of feet away from him, near the entrance, stood Madlen Sun-Voice. She looked like a dream.

He felt a powerful urge to cross the distance between them and give her a hug. Aedan pocketed his hands to stop himself from doing so. He’d already done enough.

“No. Not really,” he answered her question truthfully. Hiking his shoulders, the man jerked his chin towards the redhead’s belt. “I see you still keep it.”

Madlen glanced down to her hip and smiled gently. She patted the sheathed dagger that he had made for her some time ago. “Yes. I do. Why wouldn’t I? It was a beautiful present.”

“It was also what made everything more awkward between us,” Aedan said and ran his hand through his hair. “Look. I… need to say a few things. I probably won’t have the time to later, so just humour me. I won’t take up much of your time.”

He didn’t wait for her to acquiesce, even though he knew she wouldn’t refuse. I just want to get this over with.

“I’m sure you’ve know for a while because subtlety isn’t really my forte, but you have been getting my attention for a while now. I know it’s unwelcome,” Here he held up a hand because she looked ready to say something. “It might not have been the case, but I thought so at any rate. I’m sure you’re also aware of the depth of my feelings for you. Try as I might to put a lid on it, I never seem to manage it around you.

“Our first meeting didn’t go very well, for obvious reasons. Neither did the second, third or most of our subsequent meetings. But I thought you were beautiful and charming. I had never taken the time to feel this way for anybody before, so I didn’t really stop to consider the semantics of my feelings. I gifted you that,” he pointed at the dagger, “In hopes of maybe winning your friendship, but… I really don’t think I could have handled the sight of you and Elvil together after a while. In doing so, I doomed whatever bond we may have had the potential to develop.”

Aedan chuckled. “But then we collaborated in foiling the Honorhall scheme. You had to pretend to be my wife, and I must say, it made me feel very good about myself. Childish, I suppose, but there’s the truth of the matter. But I digress. Simply put, I’m just… I’m in love with you. I don’t blame myself, either. I think I have good taste.” He smiled. “You’re beautiful. You’re intelligent, passionate, kind… and a lot of other good things I’m unworthy of. To be honest, just the fact that I’d get to see you every day was enough for me. I will say that these few short months in Riften have been the best time of my life. Even being in your presence, the sound of your voice, the ring of your laughter, the scent of your hair… these were all magical to me. Just… talking to you makes me the happiest I have been in my life… and had I the opportunity, I would have done everything in my power to make you feel the same way for the rest of my life.”

He realised that he had gotten carried away by the force of emotion and had taken a step towards her. With a shake of his head, he took a step back. There was a line he would not allow himself to cross. Not tonight. Not now.

“But not in this life, it seems,” the man continued and took another half step back. “You’re amazing. And i have no doubt Elvil is a great guy. I’m sure he makes and keeps you happy, and I wish you both the very best. I’m glad you’re happy,” he tried to smile again, but it somehow fell apart. “But sometimes, it just isn’t enough for me.”

And that was the ugly truth. He regretted saying it. it shamed him to admit it, but he had to get it out. He couldn’t stop now even if he wanted to.

“It should’ve been me who made you smile and laugh and happy, but let’s face it, I’m no good at things like that. In a way, there’s a certain peace in knowing that you’re in good hands.” He paused slightly and took a deep breath. Then he offered Madlen a genuine smile. The first he had ever given her. “I like to think that maybe in another life, there would be a cottage, there would a wife, there would a family, and I would get to kiss you out of love and real affection, not because of some underlying theatrical reason.”

He then looked up at the sky again. Clouds had come in, covering the moons completely. It would probably get colder later.

“And that’s about it,” he finished. “Thank you. For listening. For everything, really.”

She looked as if she wanted to hug him or something. Madlen took a step toward him, too. “Aedan…”

The man said nothing, only held up a hand again. “Go back, Madlen. You have somewhere to be. I have somewhere to be.”

“But-”

Aedan shrugged. “Go. I’ve wasted enough of your time.”

And before she could close the distance between them, he turned on his heels and started walking away as fast as he could.

Have a good life, Madlen Sun-Voice. Be happy.

#THANKS AGAIN FOR THE FEELINGS #MY GOD #HAVE I NOT SUFFERED ENOUGH IN THIS LIFE #WAAAAAAAAAAAH #OUR KIDS #madlen #aedan #skyrim #submission

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