#fulmination

ffxiv graphic meme — [ 1 / 4 ] normal raids

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Will's stomach was in his throat and his sensible thoughts were buried deep beneath everything else as he clutched at The Wraith like his flaccid form could somehow save them both.

Falling is all heart-wrenching terror, air whipping past and clawing viciously, and too much time to think, but not enough to do. It's shock and a heartbeat that seems to be frozen, breath being sucked out of lungs. Legs kicking and twitching and wheeling.

Lumine had a brief moment of realization that the boy he was clutching at might have already been dead and it wouldn't have mattered if he was still alive, anyway, because they were both going to be a large splat on the pavement in a matter of seconds. He was desperately clenching his eyes shut, his mind dredging up hopeless wishes that he could just float, be as light as light itself. So, that's what he clung to, what his frenzied mind stuck all of its will and strength into instead of the ground rushing up to meet them at dizzying, impossible speeds.

Images of rays bending and swirling and rushing around them, soaking into their skin until they were nothing but blinding, radiate, weightless light.

Will's whole world jerked, a force knocking him so hard in the ribs that he gasped and almost lost his grip on The Wraith, his eyes flying open and nearly popping out as he tried to suck oxygen back into his caving lungs. It was only when he finally had his breathing under control that his eyes focused and he realized what was happening, what he was seeing.

There, barely five feet below them, was the pavement, and they were hovering above it. Weightless. In that tiny moment of utter disbelief, Will immediately lost whatever concentration he'd been clinging to in the back of his mind, and his stomach took another leap for his throat, coming out in the form of a strangled yelp as they plummeted the remaining distance.

They landed in a mass if limbs and torsos and knocked foreheads and pain. Will rolled off of The Wraith, groaning and trying to decide which part of him hurt the most.

He then remembered that he still wasn't entirely sure if The Wraith was even still alive, so he forgot about his own injuries and heaved until he was in a sitting position. The Wraith was utterly motionless: jaw slack, hair splayed out around him, one arm bent at an unnatural angle. Will scooted forward and pressed his fingers to The Wraith's neck, searching for a pulse. His own heart was hammering in his chest and, for a moment, he couldn't find anything and it skipped a beat.

He moved his fingers an inch to the left and immediately slumped with relief when he found it: The Wraith's blood thrumming under his fingers, a steady assurance that he was still breathing.

"This might hurt a little, Wraith..." he muttered, setting his hands on his arm. He was already shaking with exertion. "You're lucky you're unconscious."

He reached out with his mind, humming quietly, feeling every break and crack in the bones of his arm and then imagining them righting themselves; drawing them back together, reconstructing and sealing torn muscle and tissue around it. It wasn't the most serious injury Will had ever healed, but with the amount of energy he'd already used and the lingering effect of The Wraith's shadows sucking at him, it certainly felt like it.

Will barely managed to pick him up, stumble into the Base, and drape him over the table before he collapsed into a chair next to it.

He'd only laid his head in his arms for a total of five seconds before someone burst in through the door, gasping for breath. "Will, what happened?"

Will pulled his head up, giving Jason a look of utter disbelief, "Your presence would have been really helpful about ten seconds ago when I was falling off a building."

But Jason wasn't looking at him. Instead, his gaze was locked on what was laid out on the table behind him. (Or, rather, who.)

"Will," he said, warily, like if he rushed his words too much The Wraith might have jerked into consciousness and lashed out at him.

Will reached back slowly, put a hand on top of The Wraith's chest protectively (it was rising and falling shallowly, his breaths were warbled rasps of air). "Jason. Hear me out, alright? I don't think. . . I don't think that he's dangerous."

Jason's mouth dropped open and then closed slowly. He squeezed his eyes shut shook his head like he was trying to shake off Will's statement. It made his glasses fall down his nose and the way he pushed them back up spoke more of his exasperation than anything else. "Not dangerous?" he repeated, "Will, you know that's The Wraith, right? The same guy who's been trying to kill us for years, the son of Hades?"

"Look, Jason, I know how it sounds, alright? I just. . . I need you to trust me on this one. And I need you to be here when he wakes up. . . Just in case things don't go the way I want them to." Will looked at him with a pleading expression, his mouth bent into a worried frown.

Jason deflated slowly, "Fine. But we're not letting him take a step out of this room. This is the Base, Solace." He sounded like he was seriously regretting every single word, even as he said it.

Will brightened immediately, looking so relieved that it almost made it worth it anyway. "Thanks, Jace."

Jason nodded, kicking the door closed behind him and locking it. He lifted his hand up, speaking into the mic built into his watch, "Everything's good, guys. The Wraith has been deterred." He looked up and walked over to plop down in a seat next to Will. And then he glanced at The Wraith and pushed backward, his chair screeching against the tile.

Will laughed softly at him and turned his focus back to The Wraith. He looked peaceful, his head lolling to the side and hair falling across one eye. A cat was curled up beneath his left eye beneath the graceful crescent of his eyelashes, its flank rising and falling softly as it slept. The corner of Will's mouth twitched upwards at the sight.

"What makes you think that we can trust him?" Jason asked quietly, studying his expression.

Will considered how to answer that question. It was not just one thing in particular, but an accumulation of events that had slowly solidified into this feeling in his gut. Will told him as much. Jason was still frowning, so he took a deep breath and started talking.

He started with the time he had spent in The Wraith's base, told Jason about how human he looked when his eyes were not pitch black. He explained to him the raw desperation in his voice, the longing when he spoke of the outside world, his apparent fear of his father. He was just moving on to their recent encounters and how The Wraith never seemed to fight anymore--not how he could, anyway--and that was when The Wraith jerked upward, gasping like fish that had been dragged out of water, and reached, floundered for Will--catching at his shirt--like he was fighting not to fall from the edge of a drop-off.

Will turned to him, his heart thrashing and his mind wheeling at the suddenness of it all, and The Wraith's fingers scrambled upward wildly until he was clutching his face in his hands, his fingers digging into his flesh. His eyes were half-crazed, frightened beyond all belief, but a deep, deep brown that somehow kept Will from panicking completely.

The Wraith's mouth was stuttering soundlessly, so much that Will almost thought he was trying to scream, but then he just choked, "Lumine," and it was so much worse.

"Wraith," Will said, his hands fluttering upward to grip his his wrists, "Wraith, calm down. It's okay, you're alright." His voice is shaky and frantic.

The Wraith was shaking his head, his breaths trembling and tattoos flooding across his cheeks, ugly and hopeless. Will saw the word 'no' several times. "Don't call me that," he choked. "Don't call me that. I'm not. . . I'm not. . ."

"What should I call you, then?" Will asked, trying to make his voice soothing despite the erratic beats of his heart. He brushed his fingers up and down The Wraith's forearms without really thinking about it at all.

There were tears dripping down his cheeks now, but his breathing was starting to even out and the tension was leeching out of his limbs. He was not so much gripping Will's face now as he was holding it. "Nico," he whispered, like a relief. "My name is Nico. Nico di Angelo."

Will nodded, staring at him. "Nico," he whispered, and watched the name be written over and over again. Slowly, it overtook his face like someone was writing lines in detention. On his left temple, Wraith appeared in an ugly scrawl and then quickly got crossed out, scribbled over recklessly.

"My name is Will," he told him quietly, because it only seemed right. "Will Solace. . ."

Nico nodded, a tiny smile pulling at his lips, "Will." It appeared too, written in precise cursive across the bridge of his nose.

Will grinned, "Yeah." His voice sounded reverent, almost. Awed.

Everything slowly dripped away, all of the ink falling from his face like raindrops running down a window, and then it was just 'Solace' written on the edge of his jaw. Vines were curling around it, flowers blooming randomly over the edges of the letters.

There was no air left in Will's lungs. He wanted to take back every single time he ever tore this boy down, wanted to go back and offer him a way out. Wanted to have rescued him instead of ripping him apart time and time again.

"I'm so, so sorry. . ." he uttered.

Nico laughed quietly. "Me too, Will."

A/N: If you’re going back to read previous parts, the links (to other, previous, parts) at the top of the posts won’t work, but the ones at the bottom will.

"bakugou's trashtalk gets him a date with a killer whale dick" 

Cover art + two variants for @stupidjellies bnha fic "Fulmination"! It's funny and sexy and definitely worth a read~ 

It me

Bonus, afterwords Urianger’s like “Once again, 'twas a most superlative display of thy puissance. Now, I could not fail but notice─that body did belong to Ixion, fabled equine embodiment of lightning. Hast thou perchance encountered the beast?”