#dorian aus keep me alive and thriving

[dizegamble]

I’ve got my own little corner filled with a bunch of paper and crayon called the “coping with dorian’s absence corner.” all i do is sit there, make aus and/or content involving dorian, partake in some dorym indulgence, rewatch the episodes with dorian on my little screen, and have fun

Now, in the very corner of the room there’s a glass box with a red clown nose inside. that’s my outfit for every thursday

[sarah-bae-maas]

Rowaelin AU!

AU! where the valg wars never happened, but Aelin and Rowan would always have met anyway

Masterlist      AO3

***

“Dorian, as nice as this was, you need to leave.” Aelin smirked at the bare body next to hers, admiring the prince.

Dorian reached a hand over, smoothing it down her body and around dangerous places. “Of all the things I could do, why would I do that – Ah! Fuck.”He pulled his hand back, and held it to his chest as it burned. Aelin’s eyes widened, horrified at what she’d done. Before she could apologise for losing control of her magic once again, Dorian huffed and near-fled from the room, slamming the door in his wake. She didn’t even have a chance to apologise to her friend.

She was lucky her room was on the opposite of the castle to her parents, otherwise she’d fear they’d hear her escapades with the prince of Adarlan.

Maybe burning Dorian was a blessing in disguise. She did need to get some sleep – some fancy diplomats from Wendlyn, including some warrior that had been hired to train her, were arriving in the morning. She didn’t know if it would help at all, but she figured it couldn’t hurt. Even at twenty-one, her fire burned in uncontrollable ways. She thought maybe as she aged it might settle down, that somehow she’d magically be able to control it better, but it still flared up at the worst possible times. Like when Dorian tried to touch her. Luckily he was just a bit of fun, or this would be a serious problem.

She sighed, eager for tomorrow but dreading the likely-awful fae that would be her maker for the next few months. She decided that sleep would likely evade her the entire night, so she may as well find something to do with her time.

The halls were silent as she crept through them, her fae senses letting her know what ways to avoid so that she didn’t run into anyone else. Her body, tall and languid, thrived when in her fae form. Her human side was so erased that she’d fooled even the oldest of fae into thinking this was her who she really was.

Although only walking, a bead of sweat started to roll down her back. The air was dry as can be as a sweltering summer rolled in, the earth smelling of dead grass and dust. The back alleys she took to get to her favourite pub forwent pavement and let long-cemented clay guide her feet. The stone homes that lined the alleys were cool to touch, and she let them cool her fingers as she walked to her place.

Shady’s had been there longer than she’d been alive, and had been passed down through the same family like it was a royal crown. Not bustling, but not meagre, it was the perfect place to lose yourself. It also helped that it was smack-bang in the middle of a precinct the wealthy usually avoided. Dorian, for example, would never sully his fine shoes by walking on this dirt. Ha! What prisses. Anyone to scared to walk to Shady’s didn’t deserve it.

A little bell dinged as she entered, but no one looked up at her entrance. She had a hood over her head, or waist-length blonde hair braided back and hidden. Not many people were here at such an hour, only those who really wanted to forget themselves. Aelin ordered a pint and sat at her usual seat, scratching at the table.

Tomorrow will be fine. You can handle some old fae. You can do this! You’ve trained your whole life for this moment!  Even if you can’t get grip on this, you’ll still be a Galathynius. Terrasen is your home. They’d never make you leave.

No matter what she told herself, she still felt butterflies roaring in her stomach. It wasn’t so much that she was nervous to meet her alleged mentor, but what would happen if the bastard couldn’t fix her.

It had been only a month ago that she and Aedion had overheard her parents discussing her fate if they couldn’t get her flames under control. Aelin could hear the love they felt for her in their voices, but it didn’t seem to matter as they considered shipping her off to Wendlyn, alone, until she was better. How could they suggest separating her from her family, from her life? Aelin could admit maybe there was someone in the Whitethorn lot who could teach her, but at what cost? To Aelin, spending potentially years away from those she loved simply wasn’t worth it.

Since then, her parents had pulled her aside and told her they were bringing someone to her, but Aelin knew exactly what that meant. This was her chance, and if she fucked it up, she’d be on the next ship out of there.

“You look awfully sad for someone so pretty. Maybe a drink will cheer you up?”

Aelin looked up at the low voice, surprised to see another fae. Although Terrasen was teeming with her kin, Shady’s wasn’t somewhere they frequented. He was tall, alarmingly so, and built like a castle. His skin was bronze and littered with scars, his dark hair pulled back in a messy bun. He was attractive – in the same way sin was.

“I’ve already got one.” Aelin pointed to the half-empty glass in front of her, her answer making the stranger smirk.

He leant in to speak again, but a male at the next table stopped him. “Give it a rest, Lorcan. She’s not interested, and you’re starting to look pathetic.” His voice was deep, the lilt to it making the butterflies in her stomach rest. He had a cloak on, an emerald so dark it was nearly black, and his hair was a neat and short silver, but slightly longer on the top. His skin was creamy but loved by the sun, and his eyes were a startling green. Although sitting, he clearly had some height behind him too, but unlike his friend he was not a castle; he was a palace. Elegant.

“She can answer for herself, stop being so sour,” the man, Lorcan, said.

Aelin was looking at the sitting man as she answered. “Your friend is right, I’m not interested.” She peeked a glance at him, and he smiled.

“Fair enough. And I’m going to consider that my cue.” Lorcan sauntered off to the corner and up the dingy stairs that led to the few rooms Shady’s hired out – usually by the hour.

Feeling intrigued and full of liquid courage, Aelin decided to sit at the table of the elegant fae. He barely glanced at her as she did. She rested her hand on her fist, squinting at him.

“What brings you to Orynth?” she asked.

“I’ve been to most corners of the world, yet Terrasen remained unexplored. The capital seemed like a good place to start.” He took a deep gulp of his drink, his fingers dotted with tattoos written in the old fae language.

Aelin, being a pervert, decided to breath deep, wanting to inhale the scent of the man in front of her. She frowned, the pine and snow from Terrasen too strong to get a read on him, despite winter being long gone.

“Who is your companion?”

“The brute that just left?” Finally, a small smile on those lips. “He’s like a brother. A very annoying, overprotective brother that won’t stop hitting on any woman with a pulse. I don’t imagine you came here to be seduced.”

“It’s not usually on my list of weekday activities. There are plenty of reasons I come here, although I’ll admit love isn’t one of them.”

A laughed lowly, the sound like the rumble of a dragon before it takes flight. “You must be young, talking about love as if it’s real.”

“You must be either old or bitter to believe it’s not. Or just very unlucky.” Must be bitter, there’s no way a male that looked like this had trouble finding women to warm his bed.

“Hm. Maybe.” His drink was empty, but he didn’t move from the table. “You been here your whole life?”

“I’ve been to every country on this damned continent, but this is home, always will be. I have no desire to leave. You make me think you’ve never been anywhere that’s made you want to stay.” She didn’t know what made her say it, but she could somehow feel the truth in her words. He looked at her, his eyes saying how do you know me so well, yet not at all.

“Be careful, soon you’ll know my most intimate secrets,” he playfully warned, a spark lighting his eyes.

“How deep can I go before you’ll stop me?”

“I don’t know, shall we see?”

Aelin grinned at the challenge. “Parents?”

“Dead since I was a child. Next.”

“No siblings then.”

“Took them nearly a thousand years just to have me. You?”

“Destroyed my mother’s uterus. What’s your profession?”

“Soldier, mostly blacksmith. If I were to guess, I’d say you were a handmaiden.”

“Pianist. I play every week at the grand theatre, if I had my way it would be every day. Favourite place you’ve been?”

“To war.”

“How incredibly savage.” She leant closer to him. “There hasn’t been a war in Terrasen for hundreds of years, won’t you get bored being here?”

“Lorcan has forced me to rest, said it’s best for my mental state; I couldn’t disagree more.”

“Do you have a second form?”

“Hawk.”

“What does it feel like to fly?”

He paused, considering his answer. His head tilted to the side, a strand of hair falling onto his face. Aelin resisted the urge to push it back. “Freedom, in its purest form. In the sky, there is everything and nothing all at once. No one to answer to but the wind.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Unfortunately.” He looked at her keenly. “You ever have your heart broken, since you’re such the optimist?”

“I’ve never cared for someone enough to have them hurt me.”

“You’ve been with a human tonight; I can still smell him on you.” From any other mouth, the words would have made her cringe, and then run off to tell Elide so they could laugh together. Instead, they sent a shiver down her spine. Dorian had been forgotten the moment she’d laid eyes on the male in front of her.  

“Something tells me you don’t care.”

____

He couldn’t take her to his room since Lorcan was there, so he held her against a wall in a closet. His hands were under her thighs as she wrapped her legs around him, setting her alight. It took every spare thought to keep her fire under control as he kissed her, his tongue an artist as it painted her lips, neck, chest. She moaned as one of his hands wandered up the back of her shirt, her cloak long since dropped to the floor with his.

“You know this place better than me,” he said between kisses. “How likely are we to get caught?”

Aelin growled in response, summoning him closer. His shirt, so pristine for a blacksmith, was in her way. In her haste and forgetting her own strength, she tore it in two, leaving it in shreds in the floor. It only spurred him on, and he turned them around so he could sit her on a bench.

The sex wasn’t graceful, but by the Gods was it good. He had her clothes off in minutes, and she had never felt so aroused in her life. It was like every nerve she had was being played by his magic; like she was the piano and he was the master musician. It was quick, his tempo perfect to hit the exact spot it needed to every time, but he also had a stamina unseen in the human boys she had been with. He was a man; a full-blooded fae male that was biologically engineered to make her moan so hard she forgot her own name. At one point, when the tips of her hair had started to curl with flames, she nearly shoved him away mid-thrust. But as he looked at her fire unfazed, he simply doused them with a pinch of his own magic. Knowing she could truly let loose, she gave all that she had to him.

And by the Gods it was the best she’d ever had.

They were panting on the floor of a broom closet, him big enough that he had to prop his knees up. She was curled into his side, leaving thank you kisses alongside his body. He was puffed, and let out an airy laugh. “You should stop, or I’ll have to take you again.”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t want to go for round, what was it? Six?” To let him know, if it wasn’t already obvious, that she was joking, she left an open mouth kiss to each of his abs. He was the best thing she had ever tasted.

Aelin looked up to the window the size of a plate and groaned. The sky was starting to lighten, and soon the palace would be awake and she’d have to meet the Wendlyn convoy sent by the Whitethorns. “But you’re right. I have to go.”

She stood up, and trying not to step on him, redressed. He eventually did the same, but not after admiring her body greedily.

“Last question, will I see you again?” she asked, not hopeful. Shady’s attracted transients.

“I’m staying here for the next week at the least. Do with that what you will.”

She grinned, kissing him once more before running away from the pub, drunker than any alcohol could make her. It wasn’t until she was back in her room that she remembered she hadn’t asked him the most important question of all – his name.

___

“Elide, I’m serious. It was mind blowing. Like, I could have set that building on literal fire. I nearly did at one stage!” Aelin whispered furiously as she sped-walked to the main hall. She was late, as per usual, but at least she had Elide at her side. It wouldn’t be so awkward with her there.

“Please, pleasestop talking.” And Aedion was there too, and in genuine pain from their conversation.

“Where can I get a man like that? You mentioned he had a brother? I’ll pay you to take me with you tonight.”

“Won’t it seem desperate if I go to find him less than a day after I left him? And I think that’s prostitution.”

“Aelin I do so much for you. The least you can do in return is help me get dicked down to the nth degree.”

“I’m going to impale myself on my sword.”

“Shut up, Aedion!”Elide and Aelin said simultaneously, before giggling to themselves.

She nearly tripped on her gown, the green organza ruffles on her dress a pain in the ass to walk in. She could also feel her crown starting to tip off her head, but Elide quickly grabbed it and pinned it back before it could. The sight of the three of them running towards the hall doors made the sentries guarding it laugh as they put their fingers to their lips, silently shushing them.

“They’re all in there, Princess, they’re just waiting for you.”

Aelin put a fake smile on her face, dreading who she’d find waiting behind that door. She stood herself in front of it, Elide to her right and Aedion to her left. She smoothed down the front of her dress, making sure everything was perfect to give the best, first royal impression she could. She had to impress the old fae that was to train her, lest she be sent to Wendlyn. Her hair was fine, her crown straight. Her dress was fitted in all the right areas but flared out to give the impression of modesty. Her favourite jewels were on, and her shoes – oh fuck, she’d forgotten to put her shoes on.

The sentries opened the door, not giving her a chance to panic.

“Introducing, the crown princess Aelin accompanied by her destined bloodsworn, Prince Aedion Ashryver, and handmaiden Lady Elide Lochan.” The booming voice welcomed her as she walked through the double doors, the people in the room dropping to their knees to meet her. The walls were lined with familiar and unfamiliar faces. All but her parents, sitting on their thrones, and one other stayed standing. A male, tall with silver hair, eyes the colour of evergreens. He was standing on the steps leading to the thrones, clad in armour and navy and black fabrics, clothing fine enough for a king.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Princess Aelin, might I please introduce Prince Rowan Whitethorn of Doranelle, your new mentor.”

[lostonehero]

A high school teacher au

"Dude I heard we're having a sub today." A Male student elbowed his buddy.

"Mr. Prince is out today? Ah that sucks." His friend said sitting in his desk. "Wonder who is going to substitute."

"I dunno man, but like I hope it's Mr. Flowers he is so chill."

The two students along with the rest of the class turned to face there substitute teacher.

"Oh shit it's the history teacher Mr. Ceit." The boy whispered.

"Ugh his stupid scar always gives me the creeps." His friend sighed sinking into his chair.

A girl at the front of the class raises her hand when the bell rings. Mr. Ceit nods for her to talk. "Uh Mr. Ceit why are you covering for Mr. Prince you're a history teacher not a English one."

Mr. Ceit just sighed. "I was asked so I will. Now I will only say this once my facial scar is none of your business so I want to hear no comments about it."

A different girl raises her hand then speaks. "So sir what are you going to teach us since ya know you're not a English teacher. Mr. Prince lets us watch a movie when he isn't here."

Mr. Ceit smiles. "Well miss that isn't going to happen." He waits for the groans to end. "What we are going to do is a writing project." More groans filled the room. "Now quiet, the essay will be based on the following story I will tell, and I will only tell it once. Your essay will be a reflection on the tale I tell." He takes a breath. "Now this story takes place a long time ago across the sea...."

.....

Rumors have spread across the kingdom of women going missing. The town folk blame the dragon of the forest, a giant snake with wings, and teeth that can impale ten men at once. The king had already sent many many knights over the span of years to kill this dragon, but this time with the rumors pressure was mounting.

So the king send a special knight of his royal court, one that knows powerful magic, and was loyal to only him. The hero was sent to the rumored cave of the beast. Crowds cheered as he left and promised to kill the terrible dragon.

The hero traveled far through the dense forest finding the beast's cave. To his horror he saw all the missing women from years passed alive. The dragon must be keeping these women as slaves, death would be too good for this dragon. The hero hid until he saw the monster land with more women on his back. He wasn't loosing his chance, he cast a spell, a very powerful spell that he wasn't even sure what it would do to the beast.

The spell hit his mark, and the dragon let out a earth shaking scream, as the beast was turned to a man. The women froze spotting the hero, and instead of cheering they began to yell curses and began to approach the hero with anger in there eyes. The older women helped the now human dragon to his feet, and the mysterious locked box that appeared next to him back to the cave.

Now the truth in this tale was that the dragon wasn't a monster. He was taking in battered women, abandoned wives, and any women who would come with him. The hero destroyed a sanctuary for these women.

What did befall this hero, well what the dragon would tell you is that he took these women by force back to the kingdom. If you asked the hero he would of said he saved these woman from the dragon he slayed. You wouldn't ask the women because they were lost to the whim of the men in the kingdom because they were considered property not equal to the men. The king was pleased with the women returning, he even took a few for himself.

The hero brought back the property of the kingdom, and the dragon was defeated.

........

Mr. Ceit looked at the somber classroom. "Now get to writing, Mr. Prince knows that you will be handing these in."

A boy raises his hand and doesn't even wait until the teacher notices before he speaks. "That is some feminist fairy tale ain't it. Women can't build a society by themselves that's the biggest flaw in your story."

Mr. Ceit slowly smiled. "My I'm sure your mother would love to hear that, and shouldn't you be writing that down."

The way he said this made the boy shudder and look back at his paper not saying another word.

Another girl raises her hand waiting for approval before speaking. "What happened to the dragon Mr. Ceit?"

Mr. Ceit tilts his head. "You're the first to ask that in all my years telling this story. Well I think a locked box tells the answer."

The girl frowns at the cryptic answer beginning to write.

The bell rings after awhile and the students pile out leaving there written essays in a messy pile as they exit the class. Mr. Ceit fixes the pile and sighs stacking them onto Mr. Prince's desk. He then pulled out his worn backpack from under the desk, and headed to his classroom to grade tests. At least he doesn't have to grade those essays on his story.

.......

The next day after classes end, Mr. Prince knocks on Mr. Ceit's open door frame. "Hey Dee thanks for covering."

Mr. Ceit looks up from his desk. "It's Dorian Roman, I hate that nickname."

Roman flinches at his tone but continues to smile moving to sit on his desk. "So what's up with that tale you told? The essays painted quite the picture."

"I have to agree with Roman, Dorian." Virgil poked his thoughts through entering the classroom as well.

Dorian sighs seeing as both English teachers decided to visit. "It was just a old fairy tale I know."

"Not one I've heard of, and as you know Dee I thrive off of them." Roman looks at Dorian who in response pushes him off his desk.

Roman makes a scene of it gasping looking hurt. This only made Dorian roll his eyes. "I mean it's a interesting tale, what's it from?" Virgil asks.

Dorian frowns. "The past Virgil like most everything. Now can you let me finish my work in peace?"

Roman groans. "Oh come on Dee, why won't you tell us?"

"It's not important Roman. Just a tale from the medieval era, nothing is special about it. Besides it's a fantasy not real so drop it." Dorian hisses unconsciously gripping his backpack.

"What's with the defensiveness Dorian?" Virgil quirks his brow.

Dorian's face goes red as he looks away from the two. "It's nothing just something I wouldn't go talking about. It didn't happen so why make a big fuss about it."

"Well legends and story's come from history, and everyday life. So what is it based on? Which kingdom?" Roman's curiosity was lit.

Dorian gets up abruptly taking his worn bag with him. He rushes without a word not noticing a box fall through the tear that grew on the old bag.

Roman ran and caught the bag. "Dee you dropped something."

Dorian ignored him as he headed to the exit yelling. "I'll see you tomorrow Roman."

.........

Roman looked at the box in his hands. It was old that was obvious, but it was beautifully painted and carved. It was like if a fire met scales twisting into a box. He couldn't read what the words were carved onto the surface, but he knows that it's locked from the keyhole shaped like a snake's mouth. He was awestruck at this box.

Virgil saw the look in Roman's eyes, but didn't understand why. "Roman no just return it to him tomorrow."

"But it's so pretty." Roman cooed.

Confusion was painted on Virgil's face. "Pretty? Roman it looks rotten, and like it's barely holding together. It's probably a family thing."

"What are you talking about Virgil it's beautiful. Look even the lock is carved like a snake opening his mouth." Roman hands the box to Virgil who takes it with a grimace.

"Roman are you sure you're ok?" Virgil held the rotting box seeing no lock on the box, but a empty hole to show the box being empty. "It is just a rotten box, and it's empty. You're not on anything are you?"

Roman snatches the box back heading down the hallway. "Virgil I think your eyes are broken. Let us just ask Logan and Patton." The English teacher runs to the science wing with Virgil following him.

The students watch Mr. Prince run down the hall carrying a rotten box with Mr. Nightengale following behind. The students decided to abandon their afterschool activities to see what's unfolding.

Roman bardges in holding the box interrupting a community club Patton roped Logan into hosting with him. The students look at Roman on instinct. "Tell Virgil here that he's wrong, and the box looks amazing."

Logan pushes his glasses up then rubs his temples. "Roman if this is another one of your drama acting lessons please stop."

Patton elbows Logan. "Logan come on it is really good acting."

Roman seems to deflate as he hears the whispers of the students around him, and the comments from his fellow teaches. "Guys seriously it isn't rotten. It's beautiful."

Virgil sighs. "I'm surprised you haven't got a splinter yet Roman."

Roman looks at Virgil then back at the pair of teachers, and sighs frustrated. "Fine I'll ask Dee tomorrow." He stomps out.

"Virgil is Roman ok?" Logan asks.

"I actually don't know." Virgil looks at Roman leave.

.......

Roman actually gets to school early unlocking his classroom heading to his desk. He takes out the box from his bag, and begins to pick at the lock again. It looks like he hasn't slept much. He hears a knock on his door and just makes a noise of acknowledgement.

"Uh Roman kiddo you ok there? I just wanted to drop by." Patton is radiating concern.

Roman sighs sitting back leaving the makeshift lock pick in the box. "I just thought if I opened it you guys could see what it actually looks like. All I'm getting is nothing."

Patton frowns looking at box seeing the lock pick in a rotten hole. "Uh kiddo I don't think that is right."

Roman blinks. "Is it upside down?"

Patton watches as Roman begins to tinker with the rotten box again. "Roman that isn't what I meant by that, you're trying to open a rotten box."

Roman "Patton it's not a rotten..... oh." A soft click grabs Roman's tired focus as a soft tune begins from the box. He couldn't place the music.

Patton freezes hearing the music come from the rotten box. The pair stare at the box not noticing Virgil leading Dorian to Roman's classroom apologising about the whole box thing. Logan was also tagging along wanting to see if Roman returned to normal.

"It is just a old rotten box I was attached to. Stop apologising for Roman." Dorian sighed freezing when he sees Patton and Roman stare at the old box with awe. Then something else hit him it was a sound of a music box. That tune was familiar he just couldn't place it.

Virgil tilted his head hearing the tune and he moves his eyes to the source, it was that rotten box. "Roman if you cursed us I swear."

Logan was standing not believing what he was hearing, they're had to be a explanation for this.

Roman out of sheer awe began to mess with the lock picks again, and another click happens, and the music abruptly ends. The box opens suddenly making Roman jump. "Ah it's open."

Dorian pushes passed Patton looking at the rotten box swiping it from Roman.

The students began to file in, but due to the commotion a mass began to stand outside the classroom watching this unfold.

"Dee come on I just want to see what's inside." Roman says getting up moving closer to Dorian.

"Open it? Roman it is a old rotten box I decided on a whim to keep after things." Dorian hisses finally looking down at the box in his hands. It wasn't rotten anymore, and it was open.

"It isn't rotten anymore.... That is impossible." Logan stammers.

"It's pretty." Patton looks at the box.

"I think this is cursed as fuck." Virgil says stepping back.

Dorian looks in the box and nearly drops it when a glowing smoke slowly sinks out of the box. His eyes began to water, and his lungs burned as the smoke enveloped him. He dropped the box coughing, and he falls to his knees.

The smoke only surrounded Dorian. The others were shocked but wanted to help there fellow teacher, no friend. "Dee are you ok?" Roman rushes towards Dorian, but he can't get pass the smoke that seems to have a mind of it's own.

Logan rest his hand on the smoke like it's a wall. "Impossible it's soild. I can't explain this."

"Dorian are you ok? Come on you can fight this." Patton tries to look brave.

The smoke begins to fade slowly, Dorian is still coughing and tinges of red drip from his lips. He is barely able to kick the box away before he feels the strong urge to vomit. Thankfully Patton rushes with a trash can he immeditally empties the contents of his stomach.

"Call a ambulance, now someone." Patton's skin has gone pale seeing the bright red in the trashcan.

Virgil nearly passes out dialing 911 alerting the authorities of the emergency. Logan began to comfort Virgil who was now having a full blown attack.

Roman grew pale collapsing to his knees next to Dorian. "I sor- this is my fault. Please don't die because I was stubborn. Dorian I'm sorry."

Dorian wanted to say something but he threw up more red, now with large chunks of things he was scared to look at. Everything felt like it was on fire. He was crying even that hurt. He couldn't even produce a sound if he wanted to. Another wave of red comes out, everything sounded quiet and fuzzy. Something was making a buzz next to him, it was so quiet, and he was in too much agony to even try to piece it together.

Roman helped the paramedics carry Dorian to the ambulance he decided to go in the car with him.

......

The trashcan had to be carried out as biological waste with a hazmat team. The box as well even though it was empty, and crumbling. School was cancelled.

.......

Dorian looked around in a haze as noises from every side filled his head. His body still felt like it was being ripped apart from the inside out. Something was in his throat and he needed it out, he couldn't move is arms or legs. He was falling out of his head panicking. There were voices around him, he couldn't focus on them he needed this out. He somehow managed to flip over causing himself more pain. He coughed out more red but it was so blurry he couldn't tell what it was.

He got his arms working so he could push his face off the ground. Someone was trying to pick him up, he tried to yell no because it hurt, but only liquid dripped out of his mouth, and something hard. He started to black out again.

.......

He slipped into consciousness again a bit more lucid. His arms had no more use, and his legs felt like mush. A vague notion of what was happening crossed his mind, he didn't like it. Something screamed at him to accept it. He was too tired and numb to fight.

......