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keirametzbrassknuckles · 3 years

Note

A TRIFECTA FOR THE WHUMP ONE FOR YOU choose whichever one appeals to you most ;D - (1) “Is that fear I see?” with Vesemir/Rennes; (2) ‘Fine’? I heard you scream!” with Lambert/Coën (or Lambert/Coën/Aiden); (3) “Nobody’s coming to save you.” for Rorveth (I WILL SEE MYSELF OUT NOW I'M SORRY)

Happy murderfest to you as well my dear.

I chose to go with Vesemir/Rennes #1 "is that fear I see?" Because I love dying and being dead and I know you do too. And a lovely time was had by all (not really, I'm crying as we speak).

CW/TW for the sacking of Kaer Morhen, gore, injury, death of children, and major character death.

Vesemir comes to to the sound of screaming and a horrible weight on his chest. He can’t see for a moment, can’t get his eyes to focus, his lashes caked with blood that has run down into his eyes. He's stuck beneath a massive piece of masonry, pinned by his leg and entire left side as though he'd tried to throw a quen and the shield had shattered. He can't remember where he is or how he got there for a long moment; head feeling hollow with the lack of memory.

One of the walls came down, he remembers finally, blown apart by chaos. He'd been shielding a group of yearlings, his yearlings. A cohort of boys only Grassed three weeks ago blinking against the glare of the burning north tower, muscles shaking as they tried to hold up swords, bodies too week to fight. There were men and mages and orders to kill...

He remembers now.

Through the rubble surrounding him, he can barely make out the twisted mass of blackened bodies. An abyss of pulverized gore with white icebergs of bone visible in places, too obliterated to make out who they'd been. The boys, his boys, smashed to nothing.

Some cry of animal grief builds itself in the dust-choked cavern of his throat. He holds it there, chokes on it, doesn't let it pass his lips.

"Please" a voice says from far away, a boy's voice "please no"

Vesemir gathers all his strength and tries to lift himself, the primal instinct to protect overtaking him. He feels the thready rip of muscle tearing and falls back with a gasp, sparks swimming in front of his eyes. He can't feel it, not really which means his leg is breaking down, that the muscle is dying. He grits his teeth against the fear.

"Please"

He is powerless but to listen as the terrified plea of the boy, his boy, trails off into the bloody rasp of a cut throat. He feels it though, feels it like a knife to the heart.

The silence settles, horrible and reeking of spilled blood and smoke.

It's quiet for a moment, a long moment that seems to stretch into oblivion. He's going to die here he realizes, bleeding out against the stones of the courtyard of the place that has become as familiar and dear to him as the back of his own hands, the sight of his own face in the mirror. A place they were supposed to be safe.

There’s a poetic irony to it and he almost laughs, only to find his lungs too crushed to expand enough to produce the sound.

There’s a movement across the courtyard, barely visible through the smoke and debris. Vesemir, pinned as he is, unable to turn his head, is aware of movement but can’t see it for a long moment. He braces himself for pain, for a surprise attack but it doesn’t come.

A group of soldiers and mages strides into view, a prone and growling figure in a black fur cloak slung between them. They throw their captive to the ground. Vesemir hears the crack of kneecaps against the cobblestones. He’d know that shape anywhere; the haughty cut of those broad shoulders, those strong thighs, and his breath catches in his throat at the sight.

It’s Rennes, face mottled and swollen with bruises, bleeding from several stab wounds. The shaft of an arrow sticks out of his thigh, fletching stained with blood. Something in Vesemir breaks at the sight even as a deeper part of him wails in gratitude, in relief. Everything he’d lost come back to him.

When the alarm had been raised Rennes chose to meet the intruders alone. He had donned his black wolf-fur cloak and stepped out onto the trail - a Master to the very last. Vesemir had tried to go with him but had been ordered to stay, held back by Rennes’ hand. The first time the grandmaster had touched him in years.

“Stay” Rennes had ordered, hand heavy against his shoulder, calloused and scarred fingers curling against the side of his neck as though seeking to pull strength from his pulse. Vesemir hadn't let it break him.

But he had stayed, had done as he was told. A loyal dog to the last.

He had assumed Rennes had died there on the trail, hadn't seen him in the ensuing fray. Although he hadn't been in much of a place to look.

Now, watching them drag him, demiterium-cuffed and rope-bound he realizes Rennes's fate had been worse than death. He'd been made to watch.

He's still wearing his cloak, black fur blending with the silver-streaked thundercloud of his hair. Regality is written in every line of his posture even as one of the men hits him across the face with the hilt of his sword, even as he spits blood and fragments of teeth onto the cobblestones.

"So here he is, the last wolf," the one who hit him says, laughing "the alpha bitch. What did you think beastie? Did it turn you on when we killed them all?"

"They’re only children," Rennes says, quietly.

It's a spit-back of Vesemir’s own words and it chills him to the bone. How often had they had this argument? Are they children or witchers? Men or monsters? “Only the strong survive” Rennes would growl at him, slamming down his cup of whatever it was they’d been drinking hard enough to dent the table “That’s the way it has to be. Boys are like bones, break them and they’ll grow stronger. They'll grow stronger or die”

They’d spent lifetimes breaking children in the name of strength and for what? What good had that strength been in the end? What had it all been for?

“They’re only boys,” Rennes says again, coming to the realization too late for it to do anyone any good.

"Not anymore," the men say "no more monsters, no more monstrous children. No more witchers"

"The lone wolf dies," Rennes says, all glacial calm despite the blood bubbling up from between his lips "but the pack survives"

The men laugh, the leader taking Rennes' bruised chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing him to look around him; at the ruined Keep, at the bloody cobblestones, at the piles of bodies - child-small corpses - cut down where they'd stood hands shaking around swords too big for their frames

"Don't you see, beastie? Look around you. There's no pack left"

He knows that Rennes sees him from the way that the other man smiles, just a twitch of blood-burned lips, an old familiar gesture meaning what can you do? Meaning thank the gods you're here. Meaning I'm sorry.

"Is that fear I see?" The one with the sword says mockingly "did I finally make the soulless mutant feel something after all?"

“No,” Rennes says, eyes hard as chips of stone when he lifts them “not fear”

“Too bad,” the man says and lifts his sword.

There’s a horrible meaty crunch and Vesemir screams. Or maybe he just imagines he does, the shock too great for sound.

Rennes' headless torso falls to the ground with a resounding thud, blood pooling from the stump of neck, that strong regal neck. His head bounces once, rolls, comes to rest on one cheek facing Vesemir’s own.

His eyes are open, wide and bright, and full of defiance. Even facing down the executioner's blade his iron core of bravery hadn't failed him. Vesemir loves him, purely and completely for the first time in a generation even as the animal anguish of loss claws its way inside his chest.

He feels tears welling at the corners of his eyes - a feeling he hasn't felt in over sixty years, a feeling he didn't think he could feel anymore. They fall, lava hot against his freezing cheeks, mixing with the blood and ash to fall red against the stones beneath him. He gasps, sobs with it, his smashed ribcage protesting the expansion of the lungs beneath them.

Pinned as he is he can't turn his head, can't look away from the face of the man he’s spent his life loving, loathing; that strong nose, those snarl-bowed lips the curvature of which he knows better than the sound of his own heartbeat. He can't look away. He doesn't know that he would if he'd been able to.

How many nights has Vesemir spent in this same position; cheek on pillow gazing into those ice-chip eyes? They used to lie like this as trainees, whispering stories of heroism and chivalry to each other in the darkness of the shared dormitory. Later they lay like this as lovers, passing promises of forever back and forth like talismans between kiss-bitten lips. It's fitting that it would end like this, unable to do anything but gaze into Rennes' death pale face like a lover might - a position he hadn't held for decades but had longed for throughout it all, despite it all, despite loathing himself for the longing.

The sun sinks below the horizon, a bloody gash, choked with smoke. The darkness encroaches with the horrible silence of a mass grave, and Vesemir watches Rennes' amber eyes cloud over with death, milky as the moon.

He remembers when they were blue.

#my writing #Vesemir/Rennes #idk how I feel about this tbh but it would fold in the wrong shape when I tried to maneuver it so I'm posting it as is #gore tw #major character death #major character injury #the witcher

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sennextheassasinkingoflight · 4 years

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Firelight

Gerlion Rated T and up for minor swearing and minor nudity.

Also, I'm sorry I'm bad at technology and I've only got mobile and they updated it and I dont know/can't figure out how to put a read more break in.

Geralt and Dandelion reunite after a long time apart. Its fluff, complete fluff. They're so soft with one another.

This lovely piece was inspired by art created by @johix with permission I'll figure out how to link it. But I recommend checking out all the art.

It had been nearly nine months since he last saw his bard. It wasn't unusual for their paths to cross and diverge like the threads of a tapestry twinning around one another; close but never consistantly together. Dandelion was often called away to court, to Oxenfurt, or some festivity or other and he always went where he was wanted. Geralt never stopped him; though he often wanted to reach out, grab a slender and deceivingly muscled arm and say, "stay you're wanted here more than they want you anywhere else." But his lips stayed stubbornly shut as he watched the blond ride away on his muleish stead. He would turn his back and tend to the nearest contracts he could find. At first he'd been glad for the others departures, now they left him aching in a way he feared to define. So he would focus on his work, on the Path and push all thoughts of the Bard away until he was alone with inky night and moonlight for company. Then and only then he would wonder what his friend was doing.

This year he had been eager to get back on the path and left the keep far to early. The others had warned him but he was restless, concerned even. He hadn't heard anything from the bard in the three months leading into winter. It was May now. Summer had yet to grace the continent and snow continued to stick stubbornly to her. He hadn't made it to town, and that was okay. He was freezing but he'd dealt with worse. He stoked the fire up and leaned against the tree behind him. He flexed his fingers in his gloves to keep them from growing stiff.

He knows he should have found a cave or some other shelter but he'd been loath to leave the road. The more time he spent on it the more likely he was to run into Dandelion. Instead he began to meditate and wrinkled his nose at the scent of rain permeating the air. He hoped it would hold off until the morrow. He didn't mind rain when he didn't need to be out in the path. Meaning, he liked the rain if he was cooped up in an inn with Dandelion. He always tried to keep him from getting sick, despite the need to be on the oath. But tonight he wasn't in an inn with Dandelion. He was in forest clearing bustled against a dry spot beneath a tree with snow and ice all around him. The thought of being at a warm inn with his musician made his chest ache desperately. Slowly he managed to meditate. Meditation turned to sleep as soon as he chose to lie down in his bed roll. Roach shifted to his left to keep herself warm but never went far.

He woke cold and stiff to blue grey light. If he were a normal human and not so fucking cold he'd have probably rolled over and gone back to sleep. But instead he was a witcher and rain scented heavier on the air. That alone is enough to incline him to get a move on with the day. Carefully he stood rolling his joints, they cracked and popped at the movement sore from the last hunt and the cold. He breathed through his nose and set about feeding Roach. Then he turned to begin gathering his supplies. His heart jumped in his chest at the sound of distant music. There was a troupe, if the noise was anything to go by, traveling up the road. They were a ways off and he couldn't make out individual instruments yet. The music was to far away. Still, he forced himself to slow and methodically work through packing everything up at a more subdued pace. He had no way of knowing if Dandelion was with them, but he hoped he was. It was safer for the trabedour to travel with a group and more to his and the bards liking as well.

Satisfied that the group would catch up if he kept Roach to a walk he rejoined the road. This way he would be far enough ahead not to bother them, and close enough that if Dandelion was with them he'd be able to see him. He kept Roach at a careful pace and she seemed content to meander. His coin purse was currently full at his side, and the season was early. He could dally a little. Still he wondered at the futility. It would have been better to write to Oxenfurt or go himself. They would know where to find the poet. He listened as the music drew closer. There were several lutist. Which he could say wasn't uncommon as it was one of the preferred bardic instruments. He strained his ears none the less, Toruviels lute had a specific sound and he was well aquanited with it. He smiled and forced himself not to turn back towards the musicians. He was a witcher, he'd scare them off. He slowed Roach as much as possible. And then he heard it, the stutter of a chord gone off tune and forgotten. They way it would if he complimented the musician while he was playing. He always made the best faces.

"Geralt." He kept Roach moving, gripping the reigns hard in anticipation. Then he heard the murmurs of surprise as Dandelion ran ahead and called out,

"Geralt of Rivia, you gigantic oaf, I know you can hear me!" The indignant tone of Dandelions voice pulled him over the edge of his little game and he stopped. His heart beating a little faster, a little stronger than it ought, as it always did around the poet. He dismounted his horse and held out one hand to give or receive a hug. Something he was growing accustomed to doing with Dandelion. The bard rushed forward unabashed and wrapped his arms, one hand still holding his lute firmly, around Geralt and squeezing with all his strength. Geralt returned the favor, one armed, the other still outstretched to hold Roaches reigns.

The hug lasted longer than it ought to have, and then some. When they finally came apart Geralt raised an eyebrow and absently reached a hand out to brush shoulder length blond curls. He smiled softly amusement curling in his stomach with something far more dangerous.

"What are these?"

"Curls Geralt. You've seen them before."

Dandelion notes with brightness in his eyes. Geralt is being very tender he thinks as he flicks his eyes to the hand still in his hair.

"I know. But I've never seen them on you before. Nobles. Whores. The like."

Geralt says simply and something like sadness tugs at Dandelions heart. He was prepared with a quip but it slips from his tongue and instead he whispers out a breathy,

"You don't like it."

He looks to the ground, body language changing. Geralt smells the acrid scent of disappointment on him almost instantly. Even if he hadn't he'd have realized his mistake. He brushes his hand down and catches the lutists chin pushing it up and then dropping his hand to his shoulder. They have an audience.

"That's not what I said, nor is it what I meant, Dandelion. Introduce us?"

The poets meets his eyes and blinks. Right. Okay. He smiles,

"There isn't much to be said in introduction. I only met this lovely group last night. I don't even know all their names yet."

A short brunette in bright colors hands him his geldings reigns. They know he won't be continuing with them.

The brunette nods to Geralt and speaks softly,

"It was a pleasure to play music with you master Dandelion."

And with that the group turns down the path to the right. Geralt must have worked hard to time it so he'd be seen before they had a chance to turn down the other path. Though Dandelion would not have gone that way anyways.

Geralt looks him up and down again and and he flushes under the scrutiny and then speaks through a genuine smile.

"What is that on your face?"

He nearly reaches up to brush his hands against the white beard. He refrains barely as Geralt does it himself. He's fairly certain the man had forgotten all about it.

"Left the keep early this year. It's warmer like this."

Then he watches Geralt glare at the sky and take a deep breath.

"You'll want to put that in it's case. Smells like rain."

Dandelion moves quickly to follow his instruction and nearly jumps when thunder claps across the mountain range. He shivers and mounts Pegasus.

"Where to?"

Gerlat hesitates a moment. He shouldn't be caught off gaurde but he is. It's always this easy with Dandelion. Easy in a way it has never been with Yennefer, or with anyone else. It's natural almost to the point of being dangerous. He knows that Dandelions will follow him anywhere. Hen wont ask questions, but will walk beside him loyal and true.It eases something in his heart to see the other man beside him again. He settles something in him the way Yennefer never did. He realizes Dandelion is looking at him with raised eyebrows and a cheeky grin.

"That glad to see me?"

He swallows and clears his throat ignoring the second question.

"There is a village up ahead. If you're mule moves fast enough we may make it before the rain gets bad."

Dandelion laughs and the remnants of tension in him depart. They ride in companionable silence for a while before he asks,

"What are you doing all the way out here? The roads and weather are hardly fit for traveling, even for me."

He glances over and meets pools of bright blue sky. The poet is quiet for some time and it's only broken by the wind picking up around them and whispering through the woods as boughs bend beneath its force. The rain comes next and Dandelion finally speaks. Geralt remains facing forward carefully neutral.

"I hadn't heard anything about you in months. I had no idea if you even made it to Kaer Morhen. So, I thought to myself, Dandelion if you get closer to the keep you might hear something. Now, here I am hoping to find out if you're still alive. Figured being close would increase my chances of running into you too. And I suppose it worked."

He seems almost embarrassed Geralt thinks. Only embarrassment isn't an emotion he's ever seen on the musician. He was shameless and full of mirth. He felt deeply, certainly had had bouts of sorrow at times. But embarrassment… no this had to be something else. He seemed sombre. Almost sad as he fell into a silence that meant his thoughts had hold of him. Geralt shook his head, grateful when Dandelion did not ask him the same. Unfortunately he fell unusually quiet, normally he would grumble or speak his thoughts allowed. The silence upset him and he could sense the poet growing morose and gave him some space until he noted the bards teeth chattering. He looked miserable, lips pushed together to keep his teeth from chattering, curls gone limp with the rain. His fingers were probably just as cold as Geralts own. He slowed Roach.

"Wheres your cloak?"

" Forgot to pull it out of my bag."

He laughs. Gerlat could kick himself for not reminding the bard, but then, he was a grown man. Still the thought of him sick…. Absently he removed his outer cloak and handed it over. It wouldn't do to much now but it was a kind gesture none-the-less.

"Geralt, no sense in both of us being cold."

He simply cast Dandelion a withering glance and the trabedour smiled as he took the cloak. Geralt returned to his normal speed and missed the way Dandelion smiled into the fur and breathed deep. He almost missed the whispered "thank you" as well, but the wind carried it to his ears and he held it close.

By the time they passed through the archway of a sleepy little village he didn't know the name of, Dandelion was shivering from the cold. It had started as a thunderstorm and quickly devolved into a snowstorm. And while he had already been soaked through he was grateful for Gerlat's cloak around him. Though he was sorry too. He knew how cold Geralt often got, likely from having a slower heart rate.

They made their way with practiced ease to the local inn. Dandelion watched in slight awe as Geralt made arrangements with the matron. She had known his name, no one had so much as even batted an eye at the witcher. He shivered and tried to focus on keeping his feet warm.

The matron knew the witchers who passed this way every spring and winter. She'd been quiet young when Geralt had first met her, now she was a mother who had aged kindly.

"I'll have the boys tend to your horses. Jason's getting a fire going for you. He'll bring up some more wood in a bit."

As if on queue, summoned by his name, he came around the corner of the desk and nodded at her before heading out the back door. She smiled and handed Geralt the key. "Go on go get warm before your friend catches a cold "

"Thank you."

He handed the key to Jaskier who moved quickly forgetting his bag in his rush to get himself and his lute dry. Geralt smiled a toothy grin and shook his head shifting his own bags to gather Dandelions.

"Oh dear, I had better ask, will you be going out for supper or shall I bring some up when it's ready?"

" If it wouldn't be any trouble. And maybe a demijohn?"

She winked,

"Vodka?"

"Please."

"No problem, off you go. He's waiting."

He would have blushed if his biology allowed it. There was something about the way she looked between them and spoke that made Geralt feel vulnerable.

He followed damp footprints to their room and stepped in the door left slightly ajar. Dandelion had already hung his cloak up and stripped out of his shirt and boots, and was currently putting his lute on the chair a good distance from the fire to draw out any moisture.

"Finally Geralt! I was half naked before I realized I forgot them. And the fire was so nice I couldn't bare to go back and get them. What kept you?"

He stepped back as the bard reached for his bags and started removing his armor. He shook his head,

"Supper arrangments." He says simply.

"Then were staying in?"

"Yes."

"Excellent!" He watches the musician swap a change of clothes for his night clothes.

Although he was fairly dry beneath his armor and cloak Geralt was freezing. He removed his boots and looked up only to freeze. Breath stilling in his lungs as he swallowed tightly. He followed bare leg, muscled and lean, from floor to hip, over the curve of the poets ass, over the dip of his back and up the curve of his shoulders. He let out a breath and pointedly averted his eyes. His armor needed cleaning, he was sure of it.

He hadn't thought it possible to make Geralt uncomfortable at this point. But what he'd seen out of the corner of his eye told him otherwise. Though he'd only caught him looking away. He could have looked for a moment, or minutes he'd never know. Slowly he dressed in his sleepwear. The fire had been nice against his skin and he hadn't wanted to dress damp. You got sick when you did that. He dried his hair out with a thin towel from his pack. He'd need to replace that. He made his way back over to Geralt as he pulled his shirt on.

"The fire is nice." He says gently as he sits beside him. Geralt looks up at him from his armor and nods. They stare at one another for a moment then Geralt speaks.

"You seemed upset earlier. Was it just the weather?"

Oh. He wants to lie but he would never. Besides, Geralt can read him like a book, never mind the enhanced witcher senses. He'd never stand a chance. Instead he looks away, towards the crackling fire and let's silence reign while he thinks through what he means to say. The truth but not all of it. Just enough. The only noise is the wind rustling the shutters against the walls and the gentle crackling of the fire.

"I wouldn't know." He starts voice gentle and far away. "If you died. I wouldn't know. And if I ever did find out it would be from some rumor in a tavern passed through far to many drunken mouths to hold much truth. There's no one to tell me if you die while I'm not there Geralt. And that… scares me a little. I worry for you and it would pain me to never know or to find out so late. And know that I'll never know the truth of what happened." He looks to the witcher now and meets molten sun with ocean depths.

"But," he continues, "we're both here now. No sense in dwelling on something like that."

Something shifts in Geralts face like he wants to argue. He's already working out some way to change the topic so he doesn't give himself away. He loves the man next to him that's why it scares him. The knock comes loudly from the door and he moves to open it grateful for the matrons timing.

He smiles and opens the door wide.

"Thank you." He says to both the matron and her husband as he drops wood near the hearth and she places supper and a flagon of something on the table.

"No problem. Enjoy, its roast." With that they leave them to their dinner and Dandelion is grateful for the distraction. Geralt joins him at the table but neither speaks.

Geralt presses his lips together. What Dandelion said nearly ruins his appetite. He won't press but it makes his gut twist to think of the pain his friend would be in. The agony of not knowing. Though those same thoughts run through his head when he doesn't keep them in check. He knows if anything happens to his poet there would be hell to pay. He shakes his head and focuses instead on eating. The quiet of the room is unsetteling. They should be talking, reminiscing about their time apart and it's almost grating that he can't move past the last conversation. But then Dandelion uncorks the vodka and pours them both a generous amount. He hands a cup to Geralt and raises his own.

"To reunions." Geralt smiles and clinks their glasses together. Grateful that they're falling into their rhythm.

Dandelion asks how the winter went and Geralt sighs. It's always the same. His brothers are great but he always find himself missing his poets softness and sound. He wont say this of course. He wont say he lays awake wondering what he's doing in Oxenfurt. Who hes with. If hes happy. He won't admit that loneliness creeps in on him when they're apart, that he misses pulling the bard close to his chest when they sleep.

Instead he tells him that they repaired the battlements, the walls, the stables. That Vesimir had made them clean and catalogue the library. The library he knows Dandelion wants to see and would have to be forcably removed from and he knows that the poets only joking when he says "you'll have to show me one day" but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to grab him by the wrist and take him there. He talks of training and running the trail with Lambert and Eskel like they did when they were young.

"And what of you Dandelion? How was your winter?" The musician smiles and takes a drink straight from the bottle.

"Boring Geralt. This bach of students don't care. They have no heart and less inspiration. It's like they're only there to please their parents or something. To mingle. They don't care about learning what the truth behind folk tales are or why they're wrong. The composition courses are a bit better I suppose," another drink, his face flushes pink in the flickering light of the fire," at least they can make things rhyme even if it's meaningless. And it was so lonely Geralt. I missed traveling. I know it's better for my purse, retirement, and the like to work straight in the winter and travel in the summer months but honestly, I regret it this winter. Not that I could have traveled much alone."

He's rambeling now and Geralt loves it. Loves listening to him talk about nothing and everything. The way his face goes soft and his eyes grow bright and he can only be described as whimsical. How his voice dances always lulling and pulling him in. He takes the vodka and drinks a long pull from the bottle, he shouldn't let Dandelion have much more if they want to start out early. Though if the storm keeps up they might be stuck a few days.

He acknowledges the ard with a soft hum as he gets up to stoke the fire and add a few logs. It's gotten late. He makes his way back towards the bed and brushes his hand down the poets shoulder and his arm before passing on. He crawls to the far side of the bed and waits wondering if he'll understand the invitation and join him or take the other bed. He hopes that the Dandelion understood the gesture. The poet stands and looks at him.

Dandelion takes a breath to steady himself. There are two beds and he desperately wants to join Geralt, help him stay warm, bury his face against his chest, breath in leather and earth and musk. He blinks looking at Geralt for any sign of what he's supposed to do and just as its growing uncomfortable long in his slightly tipsy mind Geralt reaches out and hand and he knows he's wanted.

"It's cold."

Geralt offers quietly as he shuffles under the blankets next to him. He needn't have bothered Dandelion doesn't need an excuse. But if it makes him feel more comfortable he'll roll with it even as it feel like lead on his chest. He rolls onto his side and buries his face into the blankets between them. The bed is small for two but they'll make it work, they always do. He watches as Geralt lounges beside him thinking about how beautiful he is with shadows dancing against his skin as hes bathed in firelight alone. Then Geralt sits up so abruptly and swallows so that Dandelion joins him instantly.

"Is everything alright Geralt?"

"Yes. Just. Don't move."

And he laughs gently, breath coming out calmer now. He catches the way Geralts throat bobs as he swallows and the shadows dance across his throat. He both wants to kiss it and compose about it. Instead he shifts a leg underneath himself and leaves the other outstretched. He's not sure what's going on but he will do as told. But then Geralt moves and lays his head in his lap and when he looks down comatose pools of cooling gold meet his own cobalt depths and his breath catches. He stutters in another one and then smiles fondly. Geralts eyes flutter shut and he can't help himself as he places a hand in white hair and runs his fingers through it. He's certain it's been months since he had physical contact that wasn't violent.

He doesn't hum or sing. This moment is precious. It will be locked in his heart, witnessed only by the firefight and remembered in the lonliest of winter nights. But then Geralt looks at him again so he smiles softly and starts to open his mouth but theres a hand in limp gold locks by his face and he stops. Heart rate picking up, but not in fear and distantly he knows Geralt knows the ways he's affecting him. But he makes no move to pull away even as the calloused hand in his hair moves up to cup the back of his head and pull him down. Instead he closes his eyes and smiles. The kiss is everything he imagined it would be and then some.

#geraskier #gerlion #firelight #fanfiction #was going to add a read more link but im bad at technology and the update is making it worse #fluff #domestic fluff #soft bois #romance

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hereformcdonaldshonestly · 3 years

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Hiiii, Can I please request a romantic student matchup ? 💃🏻

My name is Annie, I'm 18 and I'm french. I go by she/her pronoms and I'm straight. I'm a Sagittarius and I'm a ENTP. I'm 5'6 (I guess ?? Idk, I'm 1m68), I have shoulder length brown hair and gray eyes. My friends say funny things to me sometimes, like that they wouldn't risk angering me because if that happens they will want to lock themselves in a bunker itself in a bunker with armor and shields. I'm scared like a father "it imposes a kind of respect" they say. "you have the face of an angel but you have the devil inside you" they say. I think I have some anger issues also 👁️👄👁️

I'm generally a pretty cool person, although I'm pretty clear in my words. If I don't like someone, I tell them. I have a strong character, warm blood and I dare. Most of the time I'm very disinterested "this is your problem guys, leave me out of this". Despite everything, I am a very attentive person and I am basically benevolent despite the impression I can give.

I am open-minded, I am interested in a lot of subject and I love having debates on it even if I rarely win them. I am not afraid of much and rare are the times when I stress, I know how to keep my calm even in the most delicate situations. I do not say enough how I feel. When I am injured I keep everything to myself and endure when I need to talk about it.

I love humor and especially PEOPLE who are funny. I joke around all day, especially if it helps cheer someone up as I'm not very good with words and people I'm tactile with are rare. I listen to a lot of music of all kinds, there isn't a specific one that I prefer. I can listen to rock very well, switch to classical music and go back to rap. I also play video games when I'm bored. I hate summer. I can't stand the heat, mosquitoes, melting ice cream and all. Only winter and autumn have a place in my heart. I also don't like to talk about my problems because I feel like bothering and complaining about nothing and I also don't like when I get angry because that's when I lose all my calm. Also, I draw a lot and am in art school so I think my level is not that bad.

First of all, in a relationship, I think I will like someone who would be able to support my character and love me for who I really am. I have never been in a relationship because I have always been afraid to learn that my boyfriend will look elsewhere so I would need someone who will not play with my feelings and whom I can trust without problem. I'm not very comfortable with physical contact, at least in public, so someone who could respect that would be nice. Holding hands is not much, but hugs in front of everyone, no.

And I think that's it-

Thanks for your time and sorry if this is to much 😩

It's no problem! I chose for you:

Denki Kaminari!

Reason

The reason why I chose Denki is that one he definitely would have a sense of humor you might love and I feel like you guys would get along great! The second reason is that he would support you and love you no matter what. He wouldn't try to do any couple PDA unless you were comfortable with it, but sometimes he would want to show you off.

Why They Love You

He loves you because you're open-minded and someone he can automatically talk to. He loves that you are calm and know how to handle yourself with stress, and then he loves the fact that you too are hilarious and love humor.

Date Headcanons

He would take you on walks in the fall, he thinks that's the perfect date! With you loving autumn and him being able to pack a picnic, this is definitely one of his favorites.

You always got challenged to video games by him, he'll always set up a cozy spot in the living room so you guys could game all day. He would make sure to get your favorite food, most likely takeout since I don't think we trust Denki cooking.

General Headcanons

He always gets you to show him your art, with you being in art school he's always been super interested in your drawing. He even tries to learn a few things! Even though his dog looks more like a bunch of scribbles drawn by a toddler.

He would always surprise you by taking you to different music festivals and concerts, with your love for all types of music he always wanted to try and plan an "adventure". You guys would definitely try to find any new artists and try out different kinds of music together!

Songs That Remind Me of You Both

Mr. Brightside by The Killers

Flightless Bird, American Mouth by Iron & Wine

#headcanons #kaminari hcs #my hero academia matchup #mha matchup #bnha matchup #anime matchup #denki kaminari #denki matchup #bnha denki #mha denki #denki fluff

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imaginingsoftly · 4 years

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4 Times You Cooked, and 1 Time He Did - Kevin Hayes

Type: friends to lovers, Y/N insert shorts, 4 + 1 story

Requested: No

Warnings: swearing

(Y/N = Your name)

1. The day we met

Your hand was curled into a loose fist, ready to knock on the door in front of you. Your new neighbors had moved in the day before, and, from the sounds coming from the apartment as the move-in occurred, it was a group of very rowdy boys. That meant you made cookies as a welcome, hoping that it would butter them up so they’d be a little nicer if you needed them to quiet down in the middle of the night. Of course, in order to drop off the cookies and say hello you needed to actually knock on the door and introduce yourself. So far the shyness was winning on that front.

Just as you finally steeled yourself to knock, drawing in a deep breath in the process, the door you were standing in front of opened suddenly. You stepped backwards in shock, stumbling slightly. An incredibly kind-looking face stared down at you in surprise as a hand shot out to grip your elbow. “Sorry, I-”, “Shit, are you-” You and your neighbor stared at each other in silence as you both spoke at the same time. Your neighbor smiled, nodding his head at you. “Go ahead.”

Well this wasn’t how you wanted the conversation to go at all. “Sorry. I’m Y/N. I’m your new neighbor.” You gestured at your apartment door, maybe a little needlessly, as you were the only other door on this part of the hallway. “I just wanted to introduce myself, and welcome you to the building.” The guy looked at you seriously as you spoke, like what you said was the most important thing on the planet. He was cute, in a friendly kind of way. He also looked familiar, though for the life of you it was impossible to figure out why.

“And you brought cookies?” He smiled down at you when you nodded slowly. “I’m Kevin. If these cookies are as good as they smell, I think I’m going to be happy I chose to get an apartment instead of a house.” He chuckled lightly at his own joke, and you smiled gently at him. Kevin. It was a fitting name for him. He let go of your elbow suddenly, like he just realized he was still holding it. Honestly, you had forgotten as well. “I’m sorry to meet you and run, but I’m unfortunately late to a meeting. Thanks for coming by though!” You started to back out of his doorway when you remembered the cookies. “Here,” you said as you held the plate out, “these are for you. Welcome to the building!” Kevin stared after you for a couple of seconds as you backed away before responding quickly. “Thanks, Y/N. It was nice to meet you.” His smile followed you into the apartment and stayed in your thoughts for hours after the meeting.

You worked through dinner to try and get ready for the upcoming playoff push. As a marketing manager for the Phillies, the playoffs were your favorite part of the season. It was a time where you could change up the content from your usual stuff, and this year’s playoff ad video was going to be great. One of your summer interns had come up with the idea of using fan videos of some of the highlights of the season to create a mashup, and the video her and the rest of the crew had designed was coming out beautifully. The slogan was going to have something to do with the fans being another part of the team. You watched the video over again and marveled at how well it had come out. The intern needed to become a full hire after this season.

A knock at your door made you jump, though when you opened it there was no one. Your plate, however, sat on the floor outside with a sticky note attached. Thanks for the cookies, it read, my teammates really enjoyed them. I barely got to eat one. The handwriting was slightly messy, clearly boys handwriting. You smiled at the note, and then at the door across the hall from you. It would appear you had a new friend.

2. Dinner and a show

“You know,” Kevin said as he walked through your front door, “I think you’re going to get me cut from the team if you keep feeding me cookies.” He said that with a mouth full of cookie so you took it with a grain of salt, rolling your eyes at him from your position in front of the crock pot. He looked good, dressed in his game day suit, though the tie sticking out of his pocket and the curls still damp from the shower ruined the effect a little bit. These nighttime dinners had become something of a tradition over the last couple of months, after Kevin had come home from a preseason game right as you were returning from a playoff game. You’d ended up sprawled on his couch with a pizza between the two of you, and a tradition was born. Tonight it was tacos, and the steak you had slow-cooked while you were in the office getting ready for the upcoming winter meetings made the entire apartment smell like what you pictured heaven to be.

Kevin dropped onto one of your counter top stools with a heavy sigh, and you slid a beer across to him along with an ice pack. He took the beer thankfully, but then raised an eyebrow at the ice pack. “I saw the hit,” you said as a means of explanation. “I turned the game on when I got back from work. Ice your face so I don’t have to look a black eye for the rest of the week.” Kevin raised his middle finger at you, but did as you asked. Your time together had become a nice way to wind down after your work and game days. Both of you spent so much time in the chaos of professional sports that sometimes it was nice to just slow down and enjoy a meal with someone that understood why you sometimes wanted to sit and eat your meal in silence. Kevin understood that more than you had ever expected. Accurate to your first impression, Kevin and the boys could get extraordinarily loud at times. He was the loudest person in the room, minus when he was with his shorter friend that fought so much, Travis something, but he could also be so quiet on these nights.

The tacos were delicious, and Kevin ate his body weight in home cooking like usual. It wasn’t that he was incompetent in the kitchen; you’d seen him cook pasta and a few other basic things, but he wasn’t one for just throwing something together unless he’d made it a thousand times before. “You know, I think I’m going to have to keep you around just for how well you cook.” You rolled your eyes, like you always did, but you also couldn’t ignore the tug in your chest that your heart gave when he said he would keep you around. Joke or not, you were becoming pretty attached to Kevin. He was sweet, and goofy in an awkward and not at all athlete-like way. Couple the awkwardness with the math skills and you would peg him for a math professor, not a hockey player. “So,” Kevin began, talking around chunks of yet another cookie, “how was work? Did you revolutionize baseball today?”

You laughed out loud at the thought. Like offseason meetings were ever that exciting. “Planning for contract announcements, actually. I wanted to have the guys returning or just signing on make a little video either thanking the fans for their continued support or introducing themselves, depending on where they played last year, but everyone vetoed it.” You rolled your eyes at the memory. Greg, who thought he should have gotten your job despite your better qualifications, very loudly made his dissent clear. In the end, everyone else followed suit.

Kevin, thankfully, was on your side. “I would have loved something like that! Especially for the new guys; you’ve gotta get the fans on your side before they have time to hate you.” You chuckled at his statement, even as you nodded in agreement. Getting Kevin amped up about any subject was your favorite thing to do. His accent wasn’t always clear, but times like now the Boston really came out.

“Thanks for the support, Kev. It’s nice to know at least somebody is on my side.” He leaned over to squeeze your hand reassuringly, and you only had one thought: you were in deep trouble.

3. The one where you made his date dinner

Kevin’s voice was frantic as he threw pots and pans around his kitchen, smoking something sitting black in the sink. “Y/N, please! I need help! She’s gonna be here soon, what do I do?” The panic was new, and you swallowed to joke that almost came out of your mouth in response. He really did look stressed, and the hair you knew he had meticulously styled was now running wild around his temples in frizzy curls. He stared down helplessly at what you thought was supposed to be spaghetti. You sighed, walking over to stand in front of him.

“We’ll make something else.” Kevin’s face still looked panicked, and you reached up to grab his face with both hands. “Kev. It’s gonna be okay.” He nodded. You smiled slightly, and he smiled back. “I’m going to go get a couple of things from my kitchen. Get out a couple of beers, trim the chicken, and I’ll be right back.” You patted his cheek gently and hurried out of the apartment. Hopefully you would be able to get rid of the smell before she got there. Kevin had a date, a girl he’d been dating for a few months, and you had shown up with the flowers he forgot to buy right as the pan of burnt spaghetti went into the sink. You were still trying to figure out how in the hell a box of spaghetti had turned into the black brick sitting in his pot, but that was a question for another time.

With minimal time and a general lack of great ingredients, you settled on beer-battered chicken and a salad. Thankfully you’d gone to the farmer’s market that morning, and had made Kevin go with you. There were tons of fresh vegetables sitting on his counter that would now get some good use. The only thing you needed from your apartment were cashews and some flour, which you grabbed before hurrying back across the hall again. Kevin was still panicking, though slightly less so, and the chicken was almost ready for the batter. You shouldered Kevin out of the way, throwing the beer, flour, eggs, and a couple of other ingredients into a bowl. Kevin hovered over your shoulder anxiously, at least until you elbowed him in the ribs. “Back up, Kev, I promise I’ve got your back.” He sighed, and finally sat on the counter out of your way.

He didn’t speak until you threw the chicken into a pan of oil, and even then he spoke so quietly you almost didn’t hear him. “Thanks for always having my back, Y/N.” You smiled over at him, though the chicken spitting oil quickly grabbed your attention again. The past year and a half had been nice. Kevin’s exodus from Philly for the summer came right around the time that the Phillies occupied most of your time and visits with Kevin were limited to late night meals, especially as he and the girl started dating. Kelsey, maybe? Or Karly? You hadn’t actually met; honestly, you weren’t sure she’d met any of his teammates either. It was weird no one had really met her yet, especially for a relationship that had lasted for at least two months. “Spring training is soon, right? When do you leave for Florida?”

“In a week. When do you guys play in Tampa?” He answered the week after next, and you nodded. You had gone to their game in Tampa the year before when it fell during spring training, and it looked like you would be doing so again. The chicken was finally finished, and you threw together a small warm salad with a fresh cashew Caesar dressing. The plates looked good, and Kevin was already washing the dishes when you turned around. “I can get these, Kev, go fix up your hair.”

He turned around teasingly, flicking water in your general direction. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Y/N?” You shrugged. He raised an eyebrow, and you were saved from a response by the sound of knocking at his door. Kevin quickly dried his hands, and you gathered your flour container. Kelsey/Karly stopped short when she saw you in Kevin’s kitchen, and you held out your free hand with a smile. “I’m Y/N, I live across the hall. it’s nice to meet you.” She raised an eyebrow like she was unimpressed, and your hand dropped to your side slowly. Her next words told you enough about what kind of person she was. “Why the fuck are you here?” So she was going be like that, then. Kevin stood behind her awkwardly, and you hurried towards the door before it got any more weird. He held out a hand to stop you, but said nothing when you turned your head up at him.

You closed the door behind you softly, knowing that an echo from the door slamming would make the entire interaction even weirder. It wasn’t until the door had almost clicked closed that you heard a soft “thank you” from Kevin. A loud argument and a slammed door later the date was over, and you waited for most of the night for Kevin to come over for comfort food. He never came, though you woke up to a sticky note on your door with two short sentences.

I’m sorry. Thank you for everything.

4. Taco Tuesday

It wasn’t just the fact that there was about half the roster sitting in her apartment, or the fact that they were all halfway hammered. It was the fact that Kevin hadn’t bothered to tell you the ‘couple of guys’ he’d invited to dinner was every member of the team not married with children. Nolan was the only mostly sober guy of the group, and that was only because he was coming off of a stomach bug. Thankfully, that stomach bug meant he was the one designated to help you prep for dinner. The guys had begged for your steak tacos after hearing about them for Kevin and then Travis, who had suckered his way into one of you and Kevin’s post-game dinners. Right now, your main concern was having enough meat to feed everyone.

Hands slid around your waist, squeezing slightly when you jumped. “I’m sorry for all the guys. I didn’t think they would all be so interested.” Kevin had to lean in close to your ear in order for you to hear him, and not for the first time you were thankful he was your only close neighbor. The people you shared a wall with were only around for about two months out of the year, and it wasn’t quite that time of year yet. “I promise I’ll keep them mostly chill, and we’ll get out early. I know you have an early call time tomorrow.” Oh, yes. First big road trip of the season. The early April roadies were your favorite, because the thrill of the travel hadn’t worn off yet.

Voices sounded from behind you both, someone commenting on how close Kevin was standing, and he jumped away from you with an impressive amount of speed. You lamented the loss of his body heat, though your next thought was a mental slap on the wrist for thinking about Kevin that way. No matter how into him you were, you couldn’t think like that. You were just friends. Travis slid into the conversation then to make more comments about the two of you, though you knew he meant well. Kevin had finally broken up with Kelsey/Karly, and Travis felt bad because he had been the one to set them up in the first place.

“So Y/N, how come you never bring a guy around to the bars with us?” You could have killed Travis for making that comment. He knew you had a crush on Kevin, had guessed it one night after a particularly rough day, and you were waiting for the day he decided to tell Kevin. “I might bring one around soon,” you said, much to the delight of the crowd around your apartment, minus Kevin. His head snapped up in a mixture of hurt and confusion, and you almost wished you hadn’t brought it up. “I have a date next week with a guy from your marketing department, actually.” Groans of disgust mixed with teasing met your ears at the same time Kevin slammed his beer bottle onto the counter. You would have to explore that outburst at a later date.

Kevin was distant for the rest of the night, and you had a feeling it had something to do with your date. The look on his face and the knowing smirk on Travis’ followed you into your sleep that night, and you tossed and turned until you finally went on a run around the city as daylight broke. A sticky note was waiting on your door when you got back, three brief sentences that made you release tension you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Have a great trip. Revolutionize baseball. You’re the best.

+1. Kevin finally says it

The date had been awful. There were really no other words for it. No matter how many times you dated someone involved in sports, their misogyny never ceased to amaze you. Jake had spent most of the little time you’d dealt with him mansplaining his job and hockey to you, no matter how many times you’d explained you understood both. If he worked for the Phillies, his position would have fallen under your management. In other words, you would have been his boss. You knew what his job entailed, but he couldn’t seem to get that.

But really, the icing on the cake? When he asked if you’d gotten a job with the Phillies so that you could marry some baseball player. As if you could see those boys as anything but loveable idiots. Like hopeless little brothers. You’d gotten up and left then, dropping enough cash on the table to cover your tab and then some before storming out. The text you sent Kevin was angry, a request for beer and a friend, and then you’d walked the mile back to your apartment in heels that were starting to give you serious blisters. The blisters and the red you were still seeing almost caused you to miss the sticky note on your door. Two words, and a scrawl that was very clearly Kevin’s. My place, 8 pm. That note made you smile despite what was quite possibly your worst date ever, and you hurried into your room to change into something more comfortable before heading to Kevin’s.

You walked right in after a knock, and the sight waiting for you almost made you wish you had waited. Soft music was playing from the speaker on Kevin’s kitchen counter, and something in the kitchen smelled heavenly. Kevin looked soft, the Kevin you were used to, in a worn Red Sox t-shirt and some sweatpants that hugged him just right. You were thankful you’d gone with leggings and a long sleeve shirt, especially when Kevin turned around and saw you. His eyes lit up, and you didn’t miss the subtle up-and-down he gave your body. It all felt incredibly domestic, though you didn’t want to drop too deeply into your feels before you’d even had dinner, so you quickly shoved those thoughts away. “Wanna talk about it?” Kevin passed you a beer as he asked, and you shook your head.

“Guy was a dick. Acted like I didn’t know anything about hockey, and then tried to mansplain his job, which is my job, to me.” Kevin snorted in disgust. He mumbled something that sounded like ‘dick’ under his breath, but the oven timer drowned him out. You jumped onto the kitchen counter as Kevin pulled on a couple of oven mitts. He had baked a lasagna, clearly homemade, and you took a deep breath as he placed the dish next to you. Kevin gave you a knowing smirk, and you knocked your beer bottle against his head gently. He knew you too well. His mother had cooked that lasagna when she was around for the mom’s trip, and you’d fallen in love with both the food and his mother. “Kevin, I love you.” He ducked his head, busying himself with scooping you a heaping plate of food. “That was the idea,” he mumbled under his breath. You chose to let it go, although the comment was filed under your list of things to ask him about at some point.

Kevin handed you a plate of lasagna and offered up a slice of fresh bread, which you took gratefully. He scooped himself a matching plate, though his portion was definitely smaller and more diet-approved, and nodded you towards his couch. Rizzoli and Isles was set up on the television, a drama that you and Kevin had been slowly working through together. It was fun to watch him pick apart the locations and inaccuracies, as well as pointing out places that he had grown up terrorizing. He didn’t ask any more about your date, for which you were grateful. The silence was peaceful, minus the occasional comment about the show, and you devoured your food in an amount of time that impressed even Kevin.

It wasn’t until later, when you were cleaning up his kitchen together, that you brought up his earlier comment. “Kev, what did you mean earlier?” He shot a confused look in your direction, and you sighed. “When you said ‘that was the idea’. What did you mean?” Kevin didn’t respond as he finished washing a plate, and he turned off the faucet after he handed you the plate to dry. You were patient, putting away the plate and then dropping the towel as you waited for a response. He would get there, in time.

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Y/N.” Wait, no. Kevin? Liked you? You were frozen, unable to form a sentence. It was like he’d watched your dreams and decided to play a sick joke. Kevin ran a hand over his face and through his hair at your lack of response. “I always knew I didn’t have a chance with you, so I figured being your friend was just as good.” Now it was really just like the Twilight Zone. Either that, or Kevin was reading your mind. It was the exact battle you’d had with yourself several times in the last year-and-a-half plus. Your head spun as you tried to come up with a response, but the only one you came up with was to surge forward and kiss Kevin.

It was like nothing you’d imagined. Kevin was a lot taller than you, enough so that it made kissing him a little difficult at first. After he got over the initial shock of you jumping him he crouched a little, and you wound your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck. Kissing Kevin felt right, like the one thing you had really been missing over the last couple of years was him. He smiled as you drew back for a breath, and you couldn’t help but smile back. “Yeah?” You laughed at his question. “Yeah,” you repeated, leaning in for another kiss. Kevin obliged, and you melted against him.

You finally left Kevin’s the next morning, rushing out the door so that you could shower before heading in for another game day. Kevin’s kiss on your cheek and a promise for an actual conversation followed you out, though the smile on your face lasted all day. You returned to your apartment that night to see a sticky note on your front door, in Kevin’s writing like always.

My place, 10 pm. Kiss for entry.

#Kevin Hayes Imaging #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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doodle-empress66 · 3 years

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Hazbin Hotel: Perma Frost Full Bio

General

“It’s BULLSHIT that I’m down here! Stuck in this ugly ass form! I did the shit I did to SURVIVE! No one has ever watched out for me! So I watched out for myself the best way I knew how!”

- Perma Frost to Charlie

Full/True name: Petra

Nickname(s) or Alias:

Perma Frost, Perma

Perm

The Killer Frost Demon

Kid (By Husk)

Ice Queen (By Angel)

Little Girlie (Niffty)

Young Miss (By Alastor)

Bruja de hielo (By Vaggie)

Gender: Female

Species: Human (formerly), Ice Demon

Age: 14

Birthday: Jan 6th

Sexuality: Autochorisexual-Aegoromantic

Nationality: Icelandic

City or town of birth: Vik, Iceland

Currently lives: The Outskirts of Pentagram City

Native language: Icelandic

Relationship Status: Single

Appearance

Height: 5'5

Figure/build: Slender, somewhat curvy build, with long, dark blue icicle-like fingers. Powder blue skin

Hair color: Light Blue (Normally), Transparent light blue (when angered or frightened)

Hairstyle: Long and unruly

Eye color: A glowing icy blue hue that shifts

Tattoos: A snowflake on her back

Preferred style of clothing: ALWAYS wearing a large hooded jacket/coat that covers the entire top half of her body. Large black snow boats. And navy blue tights

General Past life

Human Name: Petra (She renounced her last name)

Birthday: 6th Jan 2005

Age of Death: 14

Cause of Death: Froze to death/Blood loss

Death day: 23 Aug 2019

Personality

Perma is an intense, cautious, volatile, and resentful teenager. She’ll do whatever it takes just to make it through the day regardless of who she has to harm or fight. She loathes adults and doesn’t trust them or their judgement, and always believes they're going to hurt her. Nor does she like being told what to do. So she often gets into a lot of fights with older demons, Perma will at times rush head first into a fight without thinking things through due to being blinded by her violent nature and past trauma. She has little to no friends or acquaintances because of the sheer brute force of her powers, somewhat lack of control and unwillingness to listen to people. Despite being unapproachable most of the time, deep down Perma wants a kind soul to turn to for love and guidance. But, pushes away this feeling due to the bad hand life and death has handed her.

History

Born in Vik, Iceland in 2005, since she could walk; Petra knew nothing but misery and neglect. Abused and mistreated by her egg and sperm donor, growing up in a strange cult certainly didn't help little Petra. Forced to deal with going hungry and cold from the old shredded clothes she was forced to wear. As well as participating in her mother's questionable practices. Her family often took part in the ancient art of Icelandic witchcraft. Writing questionable symbols everywhere in the blood of animals they caught. Reading from old books with disturbing otherworldly images. Even carving up their own bodies as a sign of devotion to some strange dark entity. Petra didn't understand these events but knew only bad things could come from it.

Life didn’t get much better for the young Icelandic when she was set up to be a sacrifice in one of the cult's shamanic ceremonies, she managed to slip away and ran until she arrived at an old rundown village. Only 9 years old at the time. From there, the next 4 years were awful. Petra had to survive on scraps she found in the trash or steal food and clothing from unsuspecting villagers. Years on the street, being treated like dirt from those around her, a child no one wanted around, caused Petra to grow hateful to world and the vile people who inhabited it. No one had any concern for her. No one cared about her. Her life meant nothing to ANYBODY. So after that, the lives of others didn’t mean a damn thing to her.

At 11, Petra committed her first murder. She was low on scraps and slowly starving. Following a frail elderly woman with a bag full of food, Petra took out an ice pick she had swiped from some workers and drove it into the back of the woman’s head.

Soon after, the dreaded streets Petra wandered were now becoming littered with the bodies of the people she stole from. Little did she realize, these malicious acts were changing in ways that were beyond human understanding. Something malevolent and cold started growing inside her body. Warping her soul.

Two years, this continued...until Petra chose the wrong target. A lanky young man, who looked a few years older than her, was smoking in an alley. Driven by survival, bloodlust and greed to what type of goods the man had on his person, Petra struck with her signature ice pick. Too bad, the man wasn’t unarmed. Nor was he alone. That’s all she remembered from that specific day. And how she wished she just kept walking.

The man was part of a group of sex traffickers looking around for young girls and women to add to their market. And 14 year old Petra was added to that collection.

The following year was a new level of Hell for the young girl. Beaten, abused, used in the most vile of ways by these men and others. Petra resisted at each turn but the suffering increased more and more. Then the vile concoction, meth they called it, they forced her to take each day. Told her that it would make her more “enjoyable company”. Some days and nights blurred into each other. This...drug made her forget the pain, the misery, the horrid existence she was subjected to. But reality came back full throttle to punch her in the face once it wore off. It made Petra feel disgusting and free at the same time. Just like the girls around her, empty shells with blissful smiles on their faces.

She was right at the edge of just ending it, but the stubborn part of her refuse to give her tormentors the satisfaction. One night, while she was getting prepared for a client, Petra managed to break away and shank one of the guards with an icicle she snatched from outside of a window. That kill was easy, but the second guard managed to let out a shout before Petra rammed the spike into his eye.

Petra rushed out into the winter forest, away from the building she was held captive. Wearing nothing but a pair of booty shorts and a flimsy tank top and armed with a bloody icicle. The traffickers hot on her trail with guns and rope. Each day of hiding, running, and avoiding bullets was made worse with trying to fight the freezing cold. One bullet managed to pierce her side. On that night, Petra finally found a small cave to duck into, her feet and hands black and swollen. She was practically a light blue.

Using the last of her strength to make a small, pitiful fire, Petra packed her bullet wound with snow as a sad attempt to stop the bleeding. She leaned against the cave wall and closed her eyes. Thinking back to all the events that transpired that lead her to this. The memories slowly getting darker and darker...

She woke up abruptly from crashing down onto the ground. The teen shot up, disoriented and looked around. Her eyes fell onto a large sign reading, “Welcome to Hell.”

Sins committed to get into hell: Theft, Murder, Assault, Manslaughter, Prostitution (Not her choice)

Any regrets in what they have done: No...depends

Likes:

Doing whatever she wants

Warm food

Parkour

Heavy metal music

Necessary Violence

Beating up adults

Animals

Children

Being left alone

Dislikes:

Adults

Being touched

Limited freedom

Being told what to do

Guns

Silence

Drugs

Anything sex related

Short clothing

Frozen Food

Fears/phobias:

Men touching her/being near her

Being tied up

The sight of her own blood

Dark rooms

Cults

Sexual acts of any kind

Being drugged

Favorite color:

White

Hobbies:

Ice/snow surfing

Brawling/Street Fighting

Reading scary stories

Parkouring

Stealing

Talents/skills:

Great at the drums

Ice skating (lol)

Parkouring

Intimidation

Fighting

Very Observant/ Quick Learner

Favorite food(s):

Skyr (Yougurt)

Harðfiskur (dried fish)

Reykjavik's Hot Dog

Favorite drink(s):

Slushies

Pineapple Soda

Hot Chocolate

Significant/special belongings:

Her icepick

Spiked choker

Combat

Fighting skills/techniques:

Very good street fighter/brawler

Excellent stabbing and hacking skills

Weapon of choice (if any):

Ice Pick

Unique Abilities:

Cold Magic- is able to perform a form of magic that allows them to utilize cold, either magically manipulating it

Cryokinesis- can create, shape, move, control, interact and manipulate ice.

Cold manipulation- can create, shape and manipulate cold by reducing the kinetic energy of atoms and thus making things colder

Atmospheric Freezing- an freeze the air/atmosphere itself regardless of air quality, abundant and trace gases, air temperature, etc., allowing her to either convert that air/atmosphere directly to ice or simply super chill it.

Absolute Freezing- can freeze anything, from tangible targets to intangible energy such as fire, or concepts such as time, even a person's mind.

Cold Embodiment- acts as the personification or manifestation of cold in their reality and has limitless control over coldness and can use coldness in different ways.

Cold Breath- able to generate and manipulate cold energy within her in a way that allows her to shape the exhaling of the effect.

Cold Presence- has the ability to project a field that lowers the temperature around her, creating a constant chill.

Cold Weaponry- create or wield weaponry with power over cold, which grants Perma a wide variety of cold-based abilities, including slowing down molecules, freezing a target solid, and limiting healing.

Cryo-Phasing- combines intangibility and ice powers to freeze the objects she passes through.

Cryogenic Bodily Fluids- possesses freezing cold bodily fluids (blood, sweat, saliva, etc.

Cryokinetic Creature Creation- is able to create beings of ice or shape existing ice into wanted shapes and purposes. She can grant the beings varying levels of independence (controlled, automatons/programmed, semi-independent) and existence (momentary to permanent) and delete the creature once she is done with them.

Cryokinetic Claws- can project and retract razor-sharp claws of ice from her fingertips for offensive purposes.

Cryokinetic Combat- able to utilize ice manipulation with her physical combat, allowing her to both create tools and weapons for attack and manipulate the environment for her advantage

Cryokinetic Cloning- can create clones of herself, others and/or objects by using ice.

Cryokinetic Surfing- controls the ice in a way that increases her ability to move and/or maneuver either by granting her abilities she otherwise lack or allowing them to ignore normally needed equipment.

Cryokinetic Regeneration- can use ice to regenerate her bodies with the amount of ice used defining the speed of healing.

Demonic Ice Manipulation- One of her most powerful attacks. She can generate and manipulate mystical demonic ice, which cannot be melted by mortal means, drawn straight from the darkest fears sentient minds have about winter, ice and arctic areas, including the fears of treacherous ice breaking, burying/devouring, damaging or tripping the victim in malicious awareness.

Demonic Ice Breath - able to generate and manipulate demonic ice within her in a way that allows her to shape the exhaling of the effect. These shapes can include bursts, streams, spheres, even a mist of it from the mouth.

Dark Ice Manipulation - More powerful attack. She can create, shape and manipulate the ice of a darker, detrimental nature; that which damages, destroys, and consumes anything/everything she comes across, representing the hazardous destructive side of ice, which in turn ignores most of the limitations and weaknesses of the normal ice. In essence, this is about solely controlling the negative dark powers of ice.

Frostbite- can freeze up any part of an enemy's body where she can turn the tissues and flesh into solid ice making the victim shatter into pieces due to freeze drying, or cause a swelling making it hard to move for the victim.

Frozen Surface- can cause surfaces (often floor) to emit ice/cold, causing ice/cold-damage on anything in contact with her or the ice.

Hail Generation- can generate and project hail.

Ice Aura- can release and surround herself in/with ice/cold for defensive and/or offensive purposes, possibly becoming almost untouchable and granting her various abilities/attacks.

Ice Vortex Creation - can generate spirals/vortices composed of ice. The vortex can be projected as a long ranged attack or as a tornado of ice for both offensive and/or defensive purposes.

Omnidirectional Ice Waves- can release massive amounts of ice in every direction at once for almost unlimited scales. This power allows Perma to dispatch many foes at once and destroy large areas like cities/villages.

Snow Ball Projection- able to launch spheres of snow at targets with varying degrees of force.

Snow Solidification- can solidify or give solid-like properties to snow-based substances with the level of solidity going from loose jelly to metal-like hardness or beyond. Alternatively, Perma can also harden snow to make it denser and harder to break.

Un-melt able Ice- can generate and project snow/ice that is extremely difficult to or cannot by melted by normal means, such as extreme heat or fire.

Weaknesses in combat:

Intense heat/fire

No control when pushed too far

Turns to solid ice when she goes overboard

Due to her constant chill, she can’t sneak up on people

Strengths in combat:

Wide and short range attacks

Nearly indestructible ice walls

Hidden demon form

Wild unpredictable street fighting style

Can create ice creatures, structures, and weapons

Relationships

Past life Relationships

Parents: Unknown

Siblings: None

Other Important Relatives: None

Children: None

Best Friend: None yet

Other Important Friends: None yet

Acquaintances: None yet

Pets: None but wants one

Enemies:

Anyone who tries to mess with her.

Alastor (Frenemy-ish)

Hazbin Relationships:

Charlie- Put off by her eagerness and determination to redeem sinners. Didn’t trust her at first and kept her distance. Slowly warmed up to Charlie’s kindness and learned to trust her and others.

Vaggie- Disliked her attitude, and authority. Would tick her off with snide comments and constantly freezing her and/or Charlie. Started to bond over their dislike of Alastor and men a bit. Told Vaggie of her life and hardships, now have a big sis/little sis connection.

Angel Dust- Because of his sexual nature, she was terrified of Angel and avoided him. Even freezing him solid a few times out of fear/self-defense. Calm down a little once, she learned that he’s gay. The two became close once Angel shared his own stories of abuse. Also adores Fat Nuggets.

Alastor- Instantly loathes Alastor due to his disregard for personal space and creeper smile. Sees him as a closet pervert and often talks trash about his radio broadcasts and calls him an "a limp dick old man". Perma was unaware of Alastor's reputation, but sees him as a sicko who likes to inflate his own ego and harrass those he sees as beneath him. One of the few demons who doesn't fear Alastor, but that's due to her own ignorance and inexperience. Often tries to start fights with him by crude derogatory comments. Or freezing him.

Husker- Didn't think much of Husk at first, but liked the fact the he's a cat. The two barely interacted until she sang to herself in German and Husk responded back. They slowly began to converse with each other more and more. Husk actually listening to her woes and offering some advice. Vice versa. Due to Husk keeping to himself and respecting boundaries, Perma respects and listens to Husk more than anyone. Calms down whenever he's around. The two soon form a father/daughter like relationship.

Niffty- Was put off by Niffty's persnickety and energetic persona. Also irritated her by the frost she leaves behind. But they grow to tolerate each other over time.

Trivia

Sin - Wrath

Can speak 5 languages: Icelandic, German, Polish, English, and Dutch. This is due to the men she came in contact with during her time on the streets and while trafficked

The spiked choker she wears was a gift from one of the older trafficked girls. It was the first time she was given ANYTHING nice.

Speaks with a thick Icelandic accent

Her lips are dark blue from her cold

Given her sexual abuse, Perma doesn’t just hate sex, she’s TERRIFIED of it.

Perma keeps to herself and talks to no one unless confronted.

She knows nothing about the Overlords or power scale.

She keeps her distance from friendly people. To her, everyone is out to get something.

Perma loves heavy metal, it helps her release the pain and fury she feels

With enough patience and practice, Perma could fight on par with an overlord

She likes animals, they never harm you

She eats warm food, to feel ‘alive’.

One negative act towards her, no matter how small, can set her off

#hazbin oc #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel #vivziepop #perma frost #my oc #bio page

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melancholicumsomnia · 3 years

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[FIC] A Little Miracle In The Volume Part 2

A/N: Here’s the second part of my fic contribution to PEDRO PASCAL APPRECIATION WEEK 2021! Part 2 focuses on the #ppaw2021 theme of the day, Favorite TV show Pedro starred in. Obviously, I still loved Pedro best in The Mandalorian, but his performance as Oberyn Martell in Game of Thrones was absolutely exquisite!

Thank you to @pedrohub for the incentive to write this little fic. To @pedrocentric, here is Part 2!

PREVIOUS PARTS

Part 1

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A Little Miracle In The Volume

Rory

Part Two

Pedro was limping back to his trailer, struggling against the urge to massage his aching groin. He had just come from the Volume to film a scene with Gina Carano, who plays Cara Dune, and Misty Rosas, who was playing the Ugnaught Kuiil. It was a simple scene actually, requiring their characters to ride through the rugged terrain of Nevarro in order to make their rendezvous with Carl Weather’s Greef Karga. In the pre-vis, they were going to ride blurrgs. In reality, the blurrgs turned out to be mechanical bulls, but with a wider girth.

Brendan and Lateef had seen the dubious looks he was throwing at the machine and they couldn’t help laughing.

“Come on, man!” Lateef said in between wheezes. “There’s nothing to worry about. That thing won’t buck.”

“Hey! You can’t be Mando just by wearing the armor,” Brendan then goaded him. “You must ride the blurrg. Both Lateef and I have done it, so can you.”

Pedro let out a groan and gritted his teeth at that memory. Even his back was starting to ache in sympathy with his groin. “I guess I’m starting to feel my age. I really need to work out more.”

With his trailer looming not so far from him at last, he quickened his pace, wanting that ice pack he had his assistant prepare for him in the fridge.

Before he could reach it, however, Pedro’s eyes were drawn to Werner Herzog’s trailer nearby. The German director was seated in front of his trailer beneath a beach umbrella, the Child on his lap. He was watching something on his iPad, which was propped up on its stand on top of a small table. Pedro heard snickers and he whirled to see the puppeteers Tamara Woodard, Kan, and Trevor with remote controls in their hands, hiding behind the crates.

Deb Chow happened to be passing by and, when she saw the trio, she remarked, “You guys are the worst! You should really stop feeding that old man’s fantasies!”

“We just want to keep him happy,” Kan answered, flicking a knob so that Pedro saw Grogu’s ears go up. Sagely, he added, “We all know the stories about him and Klaus Kinski. We’re not taking any chances.” The others nodded in grim agreement, causing Deb to roll her eyes, mutter “I give up!” under her breath, and march off.

Curiosity getting the better of him in the end, Pedro cautiously approached that imperious figure. “Hi, what are you guys watching?”

Werner glanced briefly back at him and said dryly, “Oh, it’s you.” Going back to the TV show playing on his iPad, he replied, “Since you are playing our stoic bounty hunter, I thought I should explore your previous works. The Child and I were going to watch Narcos, but since it’s about Pablo Escobar, it might be too violent for the little one. So I figured the best option would be your episode in Game of Thrones.”

“Uhm, I don’t think Game of Thrones is also appropriate viewing for a kid that young,” Pedro commented in turn, only to realize what he just said. Wait! I’m talking about a puppet, not a real kid. Oh my God! This delusion is contagious! Grogu looked up then and gave him a sweet smile. But, then again, he’s so cute! Awww!

Werner’s lips pursed in a disapproving pout. “Yes, I know. I was pouring myself some iced tea when that scene of you in the brothel came on. I couldn’t cover the baby’s eyes fast enough, so he was able to catch an eyeful of ample bosoms and buttocks.” He glanced down at the baby sitting on his lap, wagging a finger. “Remember what Grandpa Werner told you. When you see a scene like that, you must never watch, you must never listen.”

Great! Pedro couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes, just as Deb had done. Now, you’re quoting Grizzly Man at him.

At Werner’s remark, Grogu gazed up at Pedro again. There was no mistaking the now lecherous, toothy grin on his little face and the enthusiastic bobbing up and down of his brows.

Scowling, Pedro turned to the mischievous puppeteers. He mouthed out to them, “Guys! What the fuck?”

In reply, the puppeteers gave him thumbs up and wide, conniving smirks.

“I should say though,” Werner then began thoughtfully, “I am very impressed with your performance here. Oberyn Martell, a proud, head-strong, and seductive prince desiring revenge for his poor sister… In other actors, the arrogance would overwhelm their performance, making him a figure to be detested or, worse, a caricature of similar characters in past films. But, no, behind that façade is kindness and gentleness. It’s because of your eyes, I think, and your voice. You’re speaking with a Latino accent in this one. You are from Mexico?”

“No, Chile actually.”

“You have a splendid way of expressing your emotions through tone of voice. Very few actors can do that. Brilliant performance, young man,” Werner gave that reluctant praise. “I can see why they chose you to play the Mandalorian. Even if you are not wearing the armor, you can still carry the character on your voice alone. How old were you when you did this?” “

“Uh, 38, 39, I guess.”

“And how old are you now?”

“I’m 43.” Pedro was not sure where this line of questioning was going.

“And it is only now that Hollywood has taken notice of your talent.” The German director shook his head ruefully. “Hollywood has become too reliant on the so-called ‘star power.’ I dread to think about the other precious little stars who are going unnoticed.”

Pedro was touched by Werner’s words. “It’s okay, sir. I’ve paid my dues, done my share of waiting on tables as a struggling actor. In fact, after working on Game of Thrones, I couldn’t find a single job. It took months before I got a recurring role on another TV show, The Mentalist.”

“Now, you have made it at last.”

“I’m not letting this current success get to my head. I know just how fickle Hollywood can be. To be very honest, I still don’t have that confidence. All this…” He raised his hands to the media campus surrounding them. “…All the work that I’ve been doing in the past few months, it still seems like a dream to me.”

“And that’s a very good attitude to have. Always be true to yourself. Show people who you truly are.” A wry, fond smile formed on Werner’s lips. “I suddenly remembered Klaus Kinski. He had been extremely difficult. He was a man with serious mental health problems. But he never sought to disguise his true self. It made it very hard for people like me, his family, and other people around him. Despite his foul temper, his brutality, it is that frank, straight-in-your-face honesty, I think that’s what I admired most about him.”

Pedro chuckled. “At least, I’m not hot-tempered like Klaus Kinski.”

A towering hulk of a man marched onscreen on the iPad and Werner gasped. “That is no man! That’s a grizzly bear!”

“That’s Hafþór Júlíus Björnsson, one of the world’s strongest men. He played Ser Gregor Clegane, aka ‘The Mountain Who Rides’, in Game of Thrones.”

At that moment, a bright idea suddenly came into Pedro’s head. Should I dare ask him now? He did just praise me after all. Maybe he is already starting to accept me. Okay, I will!

“Uhm, Mr. Herzog?” Pedro began shyly. “Since you liked my past performances and appreciate my worth as an actor, may you please allow me to spend more time with the baby?”

Werner turned to him sharply, his eyes flashing like daggers. “I appreciate your worth as an actor, true. But it absolutely has nothing to do with caring for this baby.”

Pedro was crestfallen. Still, he persisted, “Sir, please. I promise you that I will and can take good care of the baby. My sister Javiera…she often entrusts the care of her kids to me.”

“But they are not your children! You are a bachelor.” Werner looked him straight in the eye. “How could you be a father to this Child when you aren’t one?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, sir, this Child is a puppet.”

“Then how can you commit to playing a father when you cannot immerse yourself in the fantasy?”

“But how can I commit when you’re keeping the Child all to yourself?”

“I have only three episodes to do in this TV show. I want to make the most of this time I have with him. We have just started filming. You have an entire season to bond with him!”

“No, I don’t! I still have to finish my commitments with Wonder Woman 1984. I only have a single episode with the Child this season, so my time here is short!”

Because the two men were arguing heatedly, none of them noticed that the Child was still watching the episode on the iPad. He was staring enrapt as the trial by combat between Oberyn Martell and the Mountain commenced. Many times, Grogu would look closely at Oberyn’s face and then gaze up admiringly at Pedro.

But then, the Mountain struck back with a vicious blow, knocking out Oberyn’s teeth. As the Child watched in growing horror, the Mountain placed his fingers over Oberyn’s eyes and pressed down.

Both Pedro and Werner were shocked when Grogu let out a high-pitched scream, his eyes wide and waving his little arms frantically. A quick glance at the iPad and Pedro realized why Grogu was in a state of mortal terror.

Before Werner could stop him, Pedro scooped the distraught Child up and started rocking him, patting his back. Grogu kept shaking his little head, rubbing his brow over the soft cloth of the cape hanging above Pedro’s collarbone.

“Sssh! Don’t cry, Grogu,” Pedro whispered soothingly in his ear, being careful that Werner did not hear the Child’s name. “It’s just a TV show. As you can see, I’m okay. He never hurt me.” To his relief, his gentle reassurances gradually calmed the Child down.

Still stunned to silence, Werner could only watch with mouth agape as Pedro placed Grogu back on his lap. To his credit, the Child raised his arms to him, wanting more hugs. Despite his longing, Pedro just gave the little one a gentle smile and a pat on the head.

“Stop watching my past works with the Child,” Pedro scolded the German filmmaker. “None of them are appropriate for kids, except for that one Touched By An Angel episode. I wouldn’t even recommend The Great Wall because he might get scared of the Tao Tei monsters.”

Having given the final word, Pedro limped off to his trailer to get that ice pack and some much-needed rest.

Neither man noticed the perplexed group of puppeteers behind them, all of them staring down at their remote controls. Kan even took to giving his controls little shakes.

When their fellow puppeteer Jason Matthews came over, Trevor asked him, “Hey, Jason! Were you controlling the puppet just now?”

“No, I was in a meeting with Dave.”

Tamara interrupted, “Did you install a mic on the kid because we just heard him scream?”

Jason stared back at them. “What mic? You know that any baby noises will be added by the sound guys later.”

Kan gripped a startled Jason’s arms. “We saw the Child move…by itself! And he also screamed, like a real baby!”

Jason grabbed Kan’s hands and slowly lowered them. “Get a grip, will ya? It’s probably just a minor malfunction. Get the puppet from Mr. Herzog and we’ll check it out.”

“But…but…”

“No buts! You shouldn’t have been playing with it to begin with. You AND Mr. Herzog.”

The puppeteers then walked off, leaving his confused crew behind.

“But…but…we did see the Child move by itself!” they argued back feebly.

TO BE CONTINUED

#ppaw2021 #miracle in the volume fic #real person fic #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #pedrohub #pedrocentric

4 notes · View notes

zacc-attacc · 4 years

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Kissing In The Snow: A Javid Fic

This fic is lowkey shit and I might literally post a new one to apologize for this, but have it anyway!

Final Word Count: 3.2k

Triggers: There’s a bit of an anxiety attack, and a reference to self-harm. I put an * before the attack and bolded the self-harm reference so you stay safe! Love you nerds!

The plan was originally to drive through the night. After all, it was a long-term trip, and we both had a pretty uncanny ability to stay awake. Since we had two drivers, we could switch roles every now and again. But we only made it until a few hours after dark.

I knew there would be snow. After all, especially around New York, there was always snow during late December. But that… That was the type of storm that we hadn’t seen in years. The only time I think I had ever seen that much snow was when my family had traveled to Canada and they were hit with a snow storm. It was magical as a kid in a warm, safe cabin. But now, as an adult, driving on a dark road with the life of my best friend in my hands, it was downright terrifying.

Jack wasn’t fully asleep when I started to consider pulling over. After all, it was only around 10 PM, meaning he was in the dozing part of the night. It was just dark enough that he couldn’t sketch in his physical notebook, and he had put in his earbuds to try and drift off. He had offered to drive, since he was sure I was sleepy from waking up at 5 AM to pack, but I assured him that I was wide awake. And I really was. Slamming three Bang Energy drinks in the span of two hours would do that to a guy.

Snowflakes had started to fall about an hour ago. They were small ones, barely making a dent in our view. But the longer I drove, the bigger they got. Bigger, thicker, and falling faster. I knew that if I was outside, I would be soaked within three seconds.

The wind howled, not for the first time, whistling around the car and nudging it slightly across the icy road in an attempt to push us off. I could feel my anxiety rising as I frantically tried to keep the car on the road while staying calm, but something must have tipped Jack off, because he sat up from where he was curled by the window, stared at the weather, and looked at me with shock on his face.

“Jesus, Dave, it’s crazy out there!”

I felt my hands that I hadn’t even realized were clenching the wheel loosen at the sound of his voice. Despite the fact that I had just been talking on and off with him for seven hours, his voice still had a strange habit of making the world seem less terrible. Especially when paired with his eyes, wide, hazel-y green, and worried.

“Yeah,” I said, hearing that my voice was significantly higher than it usually was.

“Should we… Pull over? Find somewhere to stay for the night? We can’t sleep in the car, you’ll freeze-”

“I’ll freeze? Last I checked I’m not the only one who can contract hypothermia,” I cut him off, smiling internally at the ‘Mama bird’ side that was revealing itself (a side that normally only showed in dire situations or when one of their friends were injured).

“Yeah, but you’re a string bean. Nothing to you,” Jack pointed out. This was true, but only when compared to him. As the linebacker for Northwestern University’s football team, he had enough muscle on him to pass for a professional bodybuilder. It was funny that he was a football player while also majoring in art, while compared to the other players with their business and accounting majors. I knew he secretly hated the team, but he was playing football for the scholarship to put him through school, so it was either play or starve. Obviously, he chose to play.

I tried to take a left turn, starting to slope softly almost 50 feet away in order to be able to make the turn. It was still almost too much for the car, causing me to need to break completely to avoid hitting a sign that read Joanna’s Nightly Cabins and Bunks, 10 mi.

I felt my entire body tighten as I tried to steer without adding any additional momentum to our car careening across the ice. The tires were locked in place, and still sliding like the world’s most dangerous hockey puck. Jack had stopped talking, and was holding his breath right along with me as we continued to slide. Once we finally stopped, I put my head down on the steering wheel and tried not to cry from a simultaneous feeling of adrenaline and relief.

*********

I was shaking, harder than I had in a long time. I felt Jack’s strong, warm hand on my back, an anchor. He knew how my attacks worked, since he had seen me through middle and high school. They happened a lot less now, but that didn’t make them any better when they did hit, like a freight train of emotion and a loss of control. Where my lungs decided to say “I can’t do this anymore,” and stopped wanting to work. Where my face felt like it was set on fire, and my eyes were watering and I tired to keep everything under control but it all felt so hard and my thoughts were rushing and my heart was pounding in my ears and-

“It’s okay, Davey,” his low voice muttered.

Davey.

That damn nickname. The one only he had ever called me.

He was leaning over the gear stick now to hug me, pinning my arms to my side (I had… Old habits) He was rocking, his hand on my heart as he counted the beats with me, whispering into my ear.

“Five, six, seven, eight…”

**********

Once we got to sixty, I had calmed down a bit. I could breathe now, at least, and I had stopped crying.

“I think I’ll drive us the rest of the way. Is that okay, Dave?” Jack murmured. He was still holding onto me tightly, as if I could break at any moment.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice sounding worn like it always did after an attack.

The moment I felt him pull away, I missed him. After all, he really was quite warm, and there was a winter storm outside. At least, that’s what I tried to tell myself.

I opened the car door, and heard Jack do the same behind me. The road was icy, icier than we should have been driving on. Then again, I guess that was kind of the whole reason we were dipping out rather than driving through the night.

As we were walking, I could feel my Timberlands beginning to lose the battle between gravity and friction. I looked up in an attempt to keep my balance, and saw Jack begin to topple. I instinctively reached out my arm to catch him, and we both spun in some strange, ice dance to keep our balance. Finally, Jack slapped the hood of the car to tether us both, hard enough that the alarm started to beep, shattering the night with its high tones.

Jack looked at me, and down at my arm, which I just noticed had somehow snaked around his waist in the struggle. I dropped it quickly, feeling my face heat up despite the snow, smiling awkwardly. Jack just patted my shoulder, and began to chuckle. A soft, not full-blown laugh at the situation. I found myself laughing right along with him.

His laughter had always been contagious.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“This is delux,” Jack grinned, unrolling his travel blanket onto the singular bunk bed. Joanna’s Nightly Cabins and Bunks turned out to be a dingy collection of cabins owned by an old woman looking to make a buck and offer hospitality to travelers.

“I’m glad you pulled over, you’ll catch your death in that type of storm,” Joanna said from the doorway, making sure we had enough blankets and brain cells to survive the night. The cabin was small, with a few bunks lining the walls. There was a hot plate on top of a little fridge, but the electricity had been kicked out from the storm, meaning those were both rendered useless. There was an oak door leading to what I guessed was a bathroom, and a light rattling sounding above us for what I assumed was the heating.

“Thank you for having us for free, ma’am,” Jack said for the eight billionth time that night. Joanna just tossed her head back in a light laugh.

“A sweet couple like you, and three days before Christmas no less? It’s no problem, really. I’m all for holiday cheer. Have a good night, you two,” Joanna said, turning and winking behind her shoulder as she walked away. I made eye contact with Jack, and noticed that he was blushing just as much as I was. We waited a few minutes to make sure Joanna was completely gone to continue unpacking.

“How many times has that happened now?” I asked, hanging Jack’s scarf over a vent so it could dry overnight.

“What?” Jack said, turning from making his bunk to look at me, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“We had a list of all the times… People thought we were dating. Back in high school, remember?” I smiled slightly at the memory, thinking back to all the time we used to spend with each other in high school.

No one was surprised when we went to the same college, since we had spent so much of high school half joint at the hip. Even our mutual friends were convinced we were secretly dating. It happened enough times that one day, Jack whipped out a notebook and wrote down all the times we could think of being asked. We just kept adding, until college happened and… I honestly don’t know what happened to the notebook.

“Oh, yeah, that! I think Medda tossed it out on accident… But we have our memories, right?” Jack said, regret flashing in his eyes. I just smiled at him sadly.

“Yeah. So, what time should we get going in the morning?”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It was probably midnight when I heard a loud, metallic bang.

I sat up sharply, scrambling out of the sheets to make sure that Jack hadn’t hit his head and died from the top bunk.

“Dave, you okay?” Jack asked, glancing at me from his mattress.

“Did you hear that?” I questioned, gesturing to the ceiling where I had heard the bang.

“What?”

“Some sort of bang… I think the heater went out,” I said, suddenly realizing I couldn’t hear the rattle of the heating anymore.

“...Shit. Should we get Joanna?” Jack asked. There was a beat of silence as we made eye contact, and it dawned on me that neither of us wanted to wake up this poor old woman to tell her.

This is the height of being gen z. I thought, realizing how screwed we were.

“It… It’ll probably be fine,” I stammered, sitting back on my bunk. The air was already getting colder, and the wind howled against the cabin.

“...Get over here. You ain’t getting hypothermia on my watch,” Jack said, rolling his eyes and gesturing to himself. I felt my face heat up for what seemed like the umpteenth time that night.

“A- are you sure that you’re-”

“Oh, can it Jacobs. I don’t need your sister sicced on me because I didn’t do what I could to make sure you survived the night,” Jack pointed out, sounding mildly annoyed. I would’ve been more convinced if I didn’t see that he was also blushing, and had that look… That weird look he got when he was looking at a pretty girl or guy.

This is totally platonic. I reminded myself, climbing the ladder while holding my blankets. Jack nodded at me, tossing all of our blankets over the two of us.

I didn’t think I would be able to sleep with him right there, but something about his body heat and the crashing energy drinks was enough to lull me to sleep…

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Davey, you still sleeping?” Jack whispered. My eyes snapped open, and the events of the previous night hit me like a truck. I turned to look at Jack, who was still laying down beside me.

“Yeah,” I croaked. Jack nodded, and I felt him draw away from me.

Wait, away?

It was only then that I realized how close we are.

And that my head had been practically laying on his chest.

“Sorry,” I muttered, shifting away from him.

“It’s okay. Warmth, y’know,” Jack said gruffly, sitting up. I scooched away from him and climbed down the ladder, the cold air piercing my skin.

“We should get going soon… I’m sure Medda is ready to have my head for having you out on a night like that,” I pointed out, dashing to the assorted vents that had our assorted winter wear, half-dried.

“She could never, Dave, you know she prefers you,” Jack grinned, rolling his eyes.

“Well, she adopted you,” I pointed out. “She must’ve liked you enough to want you in her life forever.”

“She once threatened to take away my dessert privileges if we ever stopped talking,” Jack said, deadpan.

“Those brownies are no joke. I’m glad you were able to put up with me,” I chuckled.

“I don’t put up with you, Jacobs,” Jack said, self-deprecation seeping into his words. I stopped re-packing, and crossed the room to talk to him, being sure to drive my point home.

“Neither of us put up with one another, kay?”

“I- damn, Dave, makin’ us have a moment here,” Jack said, red creeping up his face. I stepped back, apologizing under my breath.

“No, no, it’s fine. You always had more of an emotional range then I did,” Jack shrugged, regret tainting his words.

A few minutes later, we were packed. Jack and I both had our jackets, scarves, mittens and hats on.

“I got it,” I said, grabbing the doorknob and pushing.

It didn’t budge. Not even a centimeter. I shook the door, throwing my weight onto it to the best of my ability.

“Let me try,” Jack said, grabbing my hand around the knob. I felt a sharp shock, and felt my heart kick into overdrive, pounding in my ears.

His hands were soft.

Jack was still struggling with the door, jiggling it aggressively.

“Its just a bit… Frozen,” Jack grunted, slamming the door with all of his linebacker strength. The door flew open, a few healthily sized pieces of ice spaying onto the fine bed of snow.

Jack had opened a door to a winter wonderland. Due to its remote location, Joanna’s Nightly Cabins and Bunks was peak stock photo winter.

The trees were frosted with white, like they were some sort of cake, or one of Jack’s drawings. There was a big, sprawling field with a few snow dusted cabins. The main house Joanna lived in was mostly cleared (we assumed she had cleared it herself… somehow), but by far the most shocking part was-

“Oh shit, my car,” Jack said, attempting to run across the lawn to the snow-covered lump that was his vehicle. This didn’t work well, since there was almost several feet of snow covering the ground. He had only made it about 10 feet when he collapsed into the drift, his legs having been unable to fight the snow.

I found myself half-laughing, despite being mildly worried as I helped him up.

“We are so screwed, Davey,” Jack said, his brow furrowing as his Manhattan twang set into his words. That’s how I knew he was really worried- his accent only set in when he was drunk, sick, angry, or stressed.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll call a plow, or a tow… We’ll find some way out of here,” I assured him, holding him by the waist so he wouldn’t fall. He leaned into me, obviously not against me touching him. Well, really it was his coat, but it still felt nice.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” Jack asked. I could feel my phone vibrating in my coat pocket, probably the boys and our families asking where we are.

“I dunno… I might as well call now,” I shrugged, pulling out my phone and tapping on Google to find the number.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“Thank you… Goodbye,” I said, just about to hang up when a powdery, cold something hit my back. I swiveled around to see none other than Jack, a small arsenal of snowballs beside him.

“Oh, you did not just-”

“I did, Jacobs,” he grinned maniacally. I narrowed my eyes at him.

“You’re on!” I shouted, frantically grabbing snow and packing it into a solid ball. The snow was perfect for snowball fights, just the right texture. And I was wearing gloves, so it wouldn’t stick to any yarn on my mittens.

Jack pelted me with a snowball, hitting my shoulder with a solid thwack! I pretended to fall from the shock of the hit, then rolled towards him, tossing a ball at his neck. It hit him slightly above his collar bone, and I heard him laugh evilly as he ran towards me.

“YOU’VE MADE A MISTAKE FROM CHALLENGING ME, DAVEY JACOBS!” He yelled, attempting to grab me. I rolled away, standing above him with my superior five inches, and began to dodge snowballs, left and right while making my own.

“JOKES ON YOU, I LEARNED FROM THE MASTER-- SARAH JACOBS!” I screeched, hitting him in the head with a snowball.

“BUT I WENT AGAINST THE GREAT RACETRACK HIGGINS!” he objected, hitting my left arm.

“WHO LEARNED FROM SARAH JACOBS!” I shot back, hitting his lower thigh.

“AH, BUT YOU ARE NOT HER!” he pointed out, dashing away again in an attempt to confuse me.

“YES, BUT I AM HER BROTHER!” I said, dodging a ball from my right.

“THE MORE WATERED-DOWN VERSION, I SEE!” he shouted, attempting to dodge a ball coming for his torso and failing.

“OHO, YOU ARE GOING TO PAY FOR THAT!” I yelled, smiling like a fool and running towards him to the best of my ability. He grinned darkly, and I realized my mistake.

I was attempting to tackle a college football player. First string.

Before I could even comprehend how terrible of an idea it was to try and tackle a football player as an English major with limited athletics experience, I was on the ground and-

His lips were on mine.

Too passionately to be accidental.

His hand had somehow made its way to my back, and he was holding me like he had in the night. And… It felt right. More real and right and perfect then I thought it would.

I grabbed his face so I could feel him closer. Though I think a part of me knew it would never feel close enough.

He was doing this thing, I think to keep us warm, where he was rubbing up and down my back to keep the heat. And he kept letting me pull him closer while we just laid there, kissing in the snow.

Kissing in the snow. A romantic concept, one that lovesick teens would only dream of doing. Kissing two days before Christmas. Kissing like it wasn’t the end of the world, like we had all the time in the world. Kissing my best friend. Kissing the man who knew how to get me back when I was drifting.

Kissing in the snow. Because sometimes, snow and too much time wasted away from each other was enough to make a teenage dream come true.

And maybe I was okay with a winter teenage dream.

I was okay with kissing in the snow.

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justfuckingcommittoit · 3 years

Text

Well... this is complicated?

Alice x Skylar Jasper x Violet Edward x Bella

"Hey! Hey! Careful with the- HEY!"

Skylar yelled frustratingly. She really did not like how this dude just shamelessly shoved her down.

"Violet? Skylar?"

"Bella?"

Violet asked, eyes widely open.

"He got you too?!"

Skylar tilted her head.

"We should totally make a club about this! Welcome to the kidnapped club, Belly Bells."

Skylar proudly declared. Bella smacked her head.

"I was here first, you idiot, plus-"

"Did that dude really just show his weird tingly tongue to us?"

Skylar suddenly asked, nose crutching up in pure disgust while Violet and Bella blinked.

"I believe he wants to eat us, dear sister."

Skylar’s mouth formed an "o"

"If that wasn't the case, he wouldn't have kidnapped us!"

Bella cried out startling the twins.

"Y'know, I actually thought we were getting free food."

Skylar mumbled, clearly upset.

Violet and Bella knew right there and then, they'd die while being stuck with an idiot.

──────────────── ────────────────

I walked into my sister's room, looking up from my phone to see her staring out the window. "Is she here?" I asked with a slight interest.

"Yeah. She looks really awkward." I walked over next to her to watch the police chief's daughter talking to one of the boys from downtown. She looked like she was in pain, like a lot of pain. Her and Jasper would get along. I sat down in the beanbag placed in the corner of the room before pulling out my phone, snapping a picture of an unexpected Skylar.

"I swear to GOD if you send that to Alice I will kill you myself. Delete that now I will not allow a photo of my hair like that to exist."

"Dude, you have long wavy hair, it looks the same everyday." I said as I sent the photo to Alice.

"If you're telling me my hair looks like this every day, I'm jumping off a cliff," Skylar replied, starting to get bored of the view outside the window. “Can you imagine what the police chief is going to do if she brings a boy home? And I thought having a parent as a teacher was bad. At least we won't come home to a Spanish teacher loading a gun," I snickered.

"Yeah, and can you imagine starting a new school in the middle of the year? That's gotta suck." Skylar added.

"It's going to be an interesting one that's for sure."Getting out of the Cullens car the next day, Skylar and I made our way to the new beat up pickup truck in the parking lot. Edward rolled his eyes, already annoyed about the new girl's presence taking up everyone's thoughts for the day.

"Hey Bella!" I said as I got closer to her truck. "Sorry to ambush you like this, we were going to introduce ourselves yesterday but didn't have the time. We're your neighbors, I'm Violet and this is my sister, Skylar." Skylar waved.

"Nice to meet you guys. Are you twins?" Bella asked, avoiding eye contact. "Yeah, but you wouldn't be able to tell if Violet didn't act like she was glued to me all the time." Skylar explained. "Fraternal, not identical. You know the drill baby."

"Yeah." Bella chuckled. She didn't elaborate, and an awkward silence followed.The bell rang, and Skylar cleared her throat. "Well, you'll find the office building to your left. If you need anything else don't hesitate to ask one of us! Neighbors gotta look out for each other." We turned to walk into the school as Bella nodded to us, heading in the opposite direction. Alice and Jasper quickly caught up to us, walking us to our shared first class.

Throughout the day, I probably learned more about Bella from the student body gossip than I did in our actual conversation with the girl; Mike Newton definitely took a special interest.

By the time lunch rolled around, Bella seemed to have made some friends. She sat among Jessica and her friends. Skylar and I figured we could leave her to it, so we joined our usual table with the Cullen’s. Sitting down with our food we noticed Edward in some sort of daze.

"Well if you keep that look up, you'll look just like Jasper!" I exclaimed, stealing an apple from Jasper’s tray. Not like he was going to eat it anyway. "And what's that supposed to mean?" The normally-in-pain vampire asked beside me. I shrugged my shoulders in response.

"The new girl is in everyone's heads today--well, everyone's excluding her own," Edward noted, covering his face with his hands.

"He can't read Bella’s thoughts," Alice elaborated.

“Maybe she just doesn't have any," Skylar deadpanned, causing Violet to choke on her water."Don't be stupid," Rosalie chirped into the conversation. "So you can't hear her thoughts? Big deal, I thought you didn't like hearing them anyway."

"I'm not too sure," Skylar started, "There doesn't look like there's a lot going on in that girl's head."

“So, give us the tea. What's Jessica blabbing on about?" I asked, bored of the current "situation". Edward glanced over to the others, listening. At some point Bella made eye contact with him, but quickly looked away.

"Mainly Rosalie and Emmett’s weird incest relationship." Edward chuckled, earning a harsh glare from Rosalie while Emmett laughed and slung his arm around his wife. The group continued eating, well, at least Skylar and I did. We packed a small lunch for ourselves every day, which was mostly gone within the first few classes. When lunch actually rolled around it was spent sneaking food off the Cullen’s trays, trying to make them look as human as the rest of us. Which was quite the job.

Eventually, the bell rang yet again, signaling it was time for Skylar and I's least favorite class, Biology. Edward was in it too and he was passing with flying colors, obviously. However, he chose to sit as far away from us as possible so we wouldn't bug him for answers on every assignment. As we walked in we caught up with Mike and Tyler.

"That poor girl, she probably hates the fact that everyone is talking about her," Skylar said. "We should have organized a food fight or something to get the attention taken away."

"Or we can just have Tyler steal Mike’s clothes while he showers after gym," I suggested. "I am right here!" Mike shouted as we chuckled and went to the back of the class to take our seats.

The real shock of the day was when Bella walked into class shortly after, and went to take the one open seat next to Edward. It should've been the perfect meet-cute, awkward meets even more awkward. But no one could have prepared Skylar and I for what we were about to witness.

"Did he just...gag at her?" I mumbled in disbelief, completely shocked.

"He literally looks like he's about to throw up. Can he even do that? Or is it kind of like a rat? Ya know, how they can't gag or anything," Skylar whispered as class started.

"I would have jumped out the window right then and there if I was her," I stated. I watched as Edward scooted his seat as close to the window as much as he could. Bella sat down anyway, looking confused. God, Edward, stop looking like the opposite side of a magnet. I thought, not even getting a reaction out of him despite knowing he could definitely hear me. Bella’s a teenage girl, not a donkey. As class went on, the situation didn't get any better. In fact, the second the bell rang, Edward ran out of the classroom so fast I thought he might have broken some kind of Volturi odd code about not revealing any Vampiric abilities to us lowly peasants. Skylar and I looked at each other before following Edward out of the room, ignoring Bella’s confused expression. As we caught up to Edward in the hall, I started pestering him.

"You didn't have to stay the whole class, you know," I said, walking beside him and Skylar. The look on his face made it clear that wasn't the comment he had expected. "You could have asked to go to the nurse and just left?" Apparently, despite being over 100 years old, this thought never occurred to him. I guess age doesn't always come with good ol' wisdom, I thought, again knowing he could hear me. As Alice rounded the corner, Edward decided it was his time to roll his eyes and make his dramatic left turn towards his next class.

"Wow, this got worse than I thought it would," Alice explained. We looked at her, confused, as she pulled us near a less crowded corridor. "It's not just the fact that he can't hear her thoughts. Her blood is almost irresistible to him." Suddenly, Alice went still, which we'd learned meant she was seeing visions

"Seems like this won't blow over soon either. Edward is planning on going up to Alaska. He’s trying to avoid killing her."

"Jesús, that went dark quickly. I'm almost starting to feel bad about making fun of him gagging at Bella," Skylar whispered, her accent slipping out slightly, "Almost."

"I'm going to be honest, that was not at all what I was expecting to come out of your mouth," I exclaimed. "Also, can't he go anywhere in the world? Why is he choosing to go up to where Tanya is? I thought she annoyed the hell out of him," I wondered, mostly to myself.

Alice drove us to her house, the three of us having the last period off. I smelled fresh brownies as soon as I opened the Cullen’s door. I flung my backpack to the ground as I raced upstairs after Skylar, finding Esme and Carlisle in the kitchen.

"Esme, you won't believe what Edward did to this poor girl today." I started, grabbing a corner piece from the fresh tray of brownies. Carlisle scooped some ice cream into bowls for us. They were always so sweet to us, making us snacks even though none of the family actually ate anything. We mentioned that it wasn't necessary, but they insisted, saying they have to keep up their image by going to the store anyways.

Esme looked at me with a smirk, signalling me to continue. "He gagged at her, Esme! Like looked straight into her eyes and gagged!" I explained while Skylar reenacted the dramatic moment next to me. Carlisle laughed and handed us our ice cream bowls. I mashed my brownie into the vanilla ice cream without hesitation.

"Yes, I have heard that today was quite the show. We've been getting texts from Alice almost hourly." Carlisle noted, then excused himself into his office while we finished talking about our day with Esme.

When the rest of the family got back, the three of us were doing homework. I got up to follow Edward upstairs. He had already started packing. "Don't you think this is a tad bit dramatic? I mean, Alice already said you weren't going to hurt her. She saw it."

"Her visions aren't set in stone, Violet. You know that." He muttered back, zipping up his suitcase. "Yeah, okay. When will you be back?"

Edward ran his hand through his hair and shrugged. I nodded and backed out of the room, opting to join Jasper in his room instead.

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leemotionalwreck · 3 years

Text

Of Black Chats and Fallen Angels (chapter 4)

Read it here on AO3!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | You are Here | Chapter 5

*********************************************

It was dusk when Nino’s arm wrapped around Alya as she excitedly gripped her phone. “Here!” She exclaimed. “This picture shows he’s at the Pont des Arts!”

“Again?” Marinette questioned.

Nino shrugged. “Guess it’s his favorite place.”

“You’d think he’d choose somewhere a little warmer,” she groaned.

Adrien snorted. “It’s only fall, Marinette.”

She shivered as she glared at him. “Doesn’t change the fact that it’s cold as hell out here.”

“Give her a break Adrien,” Lila interrupted. Her hand moved up and down his bicep. “Not all of us can wear a t-shirt and shorts in fifty-degree weather.”

Adrien frowned at the girl next to him, slowly moving his arm out of her grasp. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side.”

Lila shrugged, a sly smile on her face. “I can switch sides when necessary.”

“I knew there was a reason I invited you,” Marinette grinned.

Alya was practically buzzing with excitement as the rest of the group talked amongst themselves. “Come on, Nino,” she groaned. “I swear, a damn turtle could beat you in a race.”

“Alright, alright,” Nino chuckled. He spun around to face the others behind him. “You guys better hurry. I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to be responsible for restricting Alya’s sweet tooth.” the couple ran ahead towards the bridge, hand in hand.

Marinette followed closely behind, with Adrien and Lila trailing slightly behind. Instead of running with the rest, Lila chose to stay latched onto Adrien’s arm the entire time, constantly giggling at his jokes and asking what flavors he thought Andre would give them.

*********

After walking another mile (Lila had made sure to keep track), the five teenagers had reached the bridge. Adrien marveled at the hundreds of padlocks that had been locked on the railing and grates. His heart squeezed at the thought of being able to have one to bring here with someone. Someday.

Naturally, Andre was elated to see that Nino and Alya were still together.

“Alya! Nino!” The man roared in his jolly accent. Andre was kind but loud and expressive. It always took newcomers several trips to get used to the gentle giant. “How glad I am to see the both of you!”

The two beamed in unison as they stood at the front of the line. “Hey, Andre.”

“And what will the lovely couple be having today?” The vendor clasped his hands together in excitement, an exciting assortment of flavors laid out in front of him. Adrien had always thought it was endearing how touched the man had been by love-- even though he never seemed to have anyone for himself.

“Same as always,” Alya smiled.

“Very well,” Andre scooped three different flavors onto a single cone. “Banana, coconut, and passion fruit-- for a paring tried and true.” There was a gleeful grin on his face as he handed the treat to the pair.

“Thank you, Andre!” They said, somehow always in sync.

“The pleasure is always mine,” the man chimed. He looked at the remaining three, an ever-present gleam in his eye. Casting a curious glance at Adrien and Lila, Andre smiled at Marinette. “My dear Marinette,” he pleaded. ”I do hope you’ll be willing to try a treat this time around.”

“Of course,” Marinette smiled, stepping closer to the cart. “I wouldn’t dare miss out on your ice cream.”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Andre smiled. “Am I correct to assume you would like the same as last time?”

Marinette nodded in response.

Adrien was sure Lila had asked him a question-- he’d felt a tugging on his arm-- but was too busy trying to see what flavors Marinette had been given.

Andre scooped only two flavors this time around. “Peach pink like his lips, mint green like his eyes,” the vendor grinned as he handed Marinette her treat.

Tasting the ice cream, she hummed in delight despite the cold. “Y’know, it doesn’t even matter whether your ice cream works for me or not; the flavor is more than enough to keep me coming back. Thank you, Andre.”

Lila tugged on Adrien’s arm, calling his name once more.

“Come back any time, Marinette. Seeing your face is always a treat for me,” the soft look in Andre’s eyes proved his words were true. “And please,” he continued. “Tell your parents I say hello.”

“Of course,” she said, turning to walk towards the bench Alya and Nino had headed to a few minutes earlier.

Adrien watched as she looked at her ice cream thoughtfully before taking another bite. Who was she thinking about?

“Adrien!” he turned to see that Lila had been calling his name. Her face seemed to darken before brightening up once she had his attention. “It’s our turn.”

“Oh, yeah,” he muttered. “Sorry.” Keeping her arm linked through his, Lila tugged Adrien towards the cart.

“Ah, hello Adrien!” Andre beamed. “I am so glad to see your face. It’s been far too long.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Andre,” he said.

“And who is this lovely lady on your arm?”

Before Adrien could answer, Lila introduced herself. “My name is Lila Rossi. I’m new to Francoise Dupont,” a large smile was plastered on her face, framed by the thick strands of hair on either side of her face. “The other four were planning to come and find you today-- something about the best ice cream in Paris?”

Adrien wasn’t sure if Lila noticed how Andre’s smile faltered slightly before returning to normal. “I should hope so. Though I doubt anyone other than me has that special touch.”

“Well I hope you’re worth the walk,” Lila said.

Instead of continuing the banter, Andre turned his attention to Adrien. “So, what will the two of you be having today?”

“Oh,” Adrien started. “We’re not a-”

“Whatever you think is best,” Lila interjected. At Adrien’s’ confused expression, she explained. “What? Just cause we’re not dating doesn’t mean we can’t share a cone.”

“Whatever you say I guess.”

Andre thought for a moment before deciding. “Mint for you, Adrien, and coffee for the lovely lady.”

Lila made a face at the same time Adrien said, “Thank you, Andre.”

“Why of course. It was wonderful seeing you. And I hope to see more of you, Lila. Any friend of Alya, Nino, Marinette, or Adrien is a friend of mine.”

The pair waved goodbye as Andre packed up his equipment to head to a new spot before finally heading over to Nino, Alya, and Marinette.

“Are you sure there’s no one?” Alya said to a beet red Marinette. “Cause you looked pretty happy when Andre gave you those specific flavors.” The mischievous look on her face hinted that this conversation had been going on for a while at this point.

“I promise you there’s no one,” Marinette said cooly despite her blush. “I just enjoy ice cream. Is that really such a bad thing?”

“Gee, Marinette. Are they always this bad?” Lila asked.

Marinette nodded.

“Well then,” Lila laughed as she placed an arm around Marinette’s’ shoulder. “Looks like I’ll be on your side more often than usual.”

Marinette shot a smug look at Alya. “See that?” she said. “True friendship. You’d better take notes if you plan on keeping me.”

Alya scrunched her nose. “I think I’ll take my chances. What flavors did you guys get anyway?”

“Coffee for me, and mint for Adrien.”

Nino and Marinette both paused mid-bite. “Mint?”

“Y-yeah,” Adrien said, confused. “Why? What’s wrong with mint?”

“Dude…” Nino said at the same time Marinette grumbled, “I knew there was a reason I didn’t like you.”

Adrien genuinely frowned at Marinette before answering Nino, “Mint isn’t that bad.” He tasted the cone Andre had given him and Lila and grimaced. “Okay, you know what? Maybe it is.”

He handed the cone to Lila who just shrugged and continued eating it. “Well maybe he’s not as great as you guys made him out to be,” despite the skeptical glances she received from the rest, she continued with a smile. “I visited Jamaica a few months ago, they had some of the best ice creams I’ve ever tasted. I promise to bring you all someday.”

“Okay,” Nino shrugged as he walked over to the railing of the bridge.

Adrien noticed the annoyed look she gave him when he turned away.

While Alya, Lila, and Marinette talked and laughed amongst themselves Adrien walked over to Nino who had been staring out over the Seine as the setting sun glistened on the water.

“Hey dude,” Nino said. “Still surprised your old man let you come and hang.”

“Me too,” Adrien chuckled. “If I were you I wouldn’t expect anything else from him for a while. I’m booked for the rest of this week and, knowing him, most of next week too.”

“Damn. I’ll never understand how you deal with all that, man. It’s gotta be, like, child abuse or something.”

Adrien sighed. “I’ll get back to you when I figure that out myself”

They fell into a comfortable silence as Adrien thought back to the events from earlier-- how Andre had acted so strangely when he and Lila walked up to the cart. As far as he knew, he hadn’t insulted the vendor in any way, aside from maybe when Lila made a face at the pairing they received. A bad mood was ruled out as well seeing as he had been perfectly fine while Nino, Alya, and Marinette had ordered.

“Dude, you good?” Nino asked. “You look like you just chugged a gallon of cough medicine.”

Nino’s voice yanked Adrien out of his thoughts. “Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry. I was just thinking,” he paused, trying to gather his ideas. “Did Andre seem-- off to you?”

“Andre?” Nino laughed. “The man whose sole purpose in life is to bring people together and liven the mood? I don’t know dude,” He squinted, the sunlight reflecting off of his glasses, nearly blinding Adrien. “Maybe all that hairspray is getting to you.” He jokingly held a hand up to Adrien’s forehead, who slapped it away good-naturedly.

“Whatever, dude,” Adrien laughed. “Just shut up so we can watch this sunset, yeah?”

Nino grinned as he bowed dramatically in front of him. “As you wish, my liege.” At this, Adrien rolled his eyes once again.

Cupping his hands around his mouth, Adrien shouted over to the girls who had been huddled around Alya, laughing at giggling at something on her phone. “Come on girls, you can’t miss this.”

As the girls walked over from the bench to the railing, a smug Alya sauntered over to the two boys, her phone in hand behind her back.

“Soo, the three of us were just looking at old pictures in my camera roll,” Alya began, and Adrien noticed that Lila and Marinette couldn’t seem to stop giggling from behind her. “And we found something from a while ago that we thought the both of you might want to see.”

The two boys leaned against the railing and Adrien’s gaze flickered over to Nino, who shrugged.

“Uh, okay.” Adrien began. “And your point is?”

The Cheshire-like grin on Alya’s face told both of them that whatever was coming next wasn’t going to be enjoyable. “Well,” she drawled. “I found a picture of the two of you from freshman year.”

Nino’s ashen face wasn’t a good sign. “Alya,” his voice was low. “Tell me that isn’t--”

“Oh, it is.” Her expression resembled a predator that had nearly captured its’ prey. The snickers of Lila and Marinette grew louder by the second. “And I do hope the two of you have plans to recreate this magnificent image sometime soon.”

Alya’s hand finally appeared from behind her back, in it was her phone with an image from freshman year. On Halloween night two years ago, Nino and Adrien had decided to dress up as Mario and Luigi-- their reason that they were practically brothers, so it would hardly be any different. What they hadn’t counted on, however, was that both costumes would be two sizes too small (in all the wrong places), and the colors had faded severely. Which meant Luigi (Adrien) was a lime green bag with armholes, while Mario (Nino) was the same, but pink. Both costumes complete with oversized shoes, mustaches, hats, and overalls; it had been the perfect storm for disaster. Alix and Kim hadn’t let them forget it.

In hindsight, it had been a hilarious situation, but Nino still hadn’t gotten over the embarrassment.

The second the phone had been shoved in Adrien’s and Nino’s faces, the girls’ laughter couldn’t be contained any longer, and Adrien swore their howling could have been heard in Versailles.

Nino’s face changed in an instant. With a wicked grin, he charged forward and pounced on Alya, pinning her against him and bringing her back to his original spot near the railing.

Adrien backed out of the way, sliding over toward Marinette and Lila for safety.

“That phone is going to end up in the water by the time this is over.” Adrien turned to see Marinette was watching their two friends with a small smile on her face.

Lila frowned. “There’s no way. They’ve gotta be more responsible than that.”

At Marinette’s quirked eyebrow, Adrien laughed. “Sorry, Marinette, but I’m with Lila. you must not know Nino as well as you thought if you really think he’s gonna let Alya’s phone fall.”

Instead of arguing, Marinette just chuckled. “I’ll bet both of you twenty euros that phone ends up in the water by the end of this.”

Adrien and Lila looked at one another before deciding, “You’re on.”

With Alya’s phone still in her hand, both smiling, the couple goofed around dangerously close to the railing. Nino finally managed to yank the device out of his girlfriend’s hand.

“Hey,” she said, trying her hardest to sound angry despite her laughter. “Nino, give it back.”

He held it high above Alya’s head, leaning slightly back over the railing. “Nope. not until you swear to delete it.”

Her eye’s narrowed playfully. “Never.”

“Then I guess I’m getting a new phone today,” Nino joked. “Thanks, babe, you’re the best.”

He leaned in for a kiss. Almost knowing what Alya was thinking, Marinette warned:

“Alya,” Marinette warned. “It’s not going to work. You’re going to get your phone dropped in the river.”

Naturally, Alya didn’t listen.

With her lips on his, Nino made the mistake of letting his guard down. Alya reached for the phone, practically climbing him, and Nino jerked it away-- just a little too hard.

As the five teens watched the phone soar in the air, there were several different reactions.

Alya and Nino were shocked. (cause who knew wrestling for an electronic device near a boy of water could possibly end badly?)

Adrien and Lila were pissed as they handed Marinette a collective forty euros.

And Marinette was just glad that she had finally won a bet.

The phone landed in the water with a quiet plop. It was dead silent, save for Alya’s raspy voice.

“My parents are gonna kill me.”

*********

“I don’t trust her,” were the first words out of Plagg’s mouth the second Adrien closed his bedroom door.

After the Phone Fiasco, the five watched the sunset, content to remain quiet for the rest of their time there-- until Adrien was called home. Nino walked Alya home, promising to take the blame for what happened. Lila offered to walk home with Adrien, but it turned out she lived closer to Marinette than she thought, which meant Adrien walked home alone; promising to text Lila when he arrived. Before leaving, the group did their best to arrange a study meeting that Thursday--provided Adrien wasn’t busy and Alya wasn’t grounded.

Shooting Lila a text that he’s made it home safely, Plagg spoke again. “Did you hear me? I said I don’t trust her.”

“Hmm?” was Adrien’s response as Plagg grumbled, “I don’t get nearly enough cheese for this bullshit.”

“Language,” Adrien warned as he walked over to his cabinet, tossing a chunk of Camembert to his kwami. “And who are you even talking about?”

Plagg rolled his eyes dramatically. “I’m talking about sausage girl.”

Adrien snorted. “Sausage girl?” He managed to choke out while coughing. “You mean Lila?”

“Yeah,” said Plagg between obnoxious bites of cheese. “Whatever her name is, I don’t trust her. Something doesn’t seem right, but I can’t pinpoint it.”

Adrien rolled his eyes, copying his kwami. “Plagg, you don’t get to judge someone just because you don’t like them. That’s not how it works--”

“What about pigtails?”

“That’s… different,” Adrien frowned. “I can’t explain it, but it’s different.”

“Mmhmm. Whatever you say.”

He growled and headed to the shower, annoyed by Plagg and the fact that he had such a busy week ahead of him.

But what if Plagg had a point? Sure, Marinette had been civil that day, but it wasn’t like she really hid her distrust of him. And how was it fair that the new girl who told fantastical tales of saving crocodiles and being best friends with princes was just accepted.

Not wanting to dwell on the situation any longer, Adrien turned the water on, accidentally burning himself with hot water.

“Ahh, shit.” He yelled as he jumped back, almost losing his balance.

“Language!” Plagg shouted from his spot on Adrien’s bed. “Fuck off,” was his response. Adrien swore he could hear Plagg’s snickering despite the running water.

As he reached forward to adjust the temperature, Adrien noticed several bruises on his right arm. He had never bruised easily, so he knew it had to have been something worth remembering, but he couldn’t think of anything. Shrugging it off, he put it out of his mind. Maybe--

Wait…

Lila had been latched onto him practically that whole day, but he had no recollection of her gripping him hard enough to leave bruises. And why hadn’t he felt anything earlier?

He gingerly ran his fingers over the marks, hissing and moving his hand away quickly when a burning sensation came suddenly.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #of black chats and fallen angels

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kdtheghostwriter · 4 years

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SNK 4-Pack

Just to avoid any confusion, yup, it’s just what it says on the tin. I’ve gathered my thoughts on four chapters here. A combination of IRL obligations, lifestyle and equipment changes all of which has been more or less rectified. For now lol. To those who reached in the past months, I appreciate the thought. Apologies for keeping you waiting. Accept this humble offering and enjoy the new chapter release.

123 - Turn Me Loose

We’re in a very distressing place both in-story and IRL. So here:

It’s Mikasa’s first taste of ice cream. Feel better? Cool. Now let’s talk about the end of the world, pls.

I’ll get the obvious out of the way first. Just what did you think The Usurper meant when he said [checks notes] “I’m going to put an end to this world?” This isn’t Sword Art Online. He wasn’t talking about a virtual world. It’s closer to the SpongeBob bit where Squidward runs into his place of work to exclaim that robots have taken over the world, before he clarifies “Our world!” Paradis was merely a blip on the radar before the Royal Family lost the Coordinate. It was fun at first to rattle their cage and watch them war with eachother. Now the war is about to leave the shores of the Island and no one is laughing.

I don’t have much to say about this development in particular because I predicted it nearly one year ago. No one wanted to hear it, but I said to any ear that listened: if Eren is going to play the Bad Guy, he needs to be the Bad Guy. You can go back and read it. I said Eren Jaeger will be the new villain of the story. Well, there’s a word we use for the person who wants to exterminate all life on Earth and it’s not Samaritan.

But for every villain, a foil must rise. Reiner is the easy choice here. Not the wrong one, but easy and predictable. Eren and Reiner have been intersecting since the 104th squad’s first expedition. When Eren could have hidden during Marley’s 11th hour raid of Paradis, he chose to confront Reiner and expose himself for the sake of a fight he knew he would not lose. This is why I don’t have Reiner in this role. Reiner’s role is what we all thought Eren’s was up until Chapter 120 or so. He is Lady Fate’s whipping boy. Beating him down again and again while calling him and dummy for trying to resist against his lot in life. If Reiner steps to Eren this time, it will be more than just humiliation awaiting him. Yes, it’s still Mikasa. I doubt Eren’s plan (whatever the full scope of it is) can even be stopped but if it can she is the one to do it. It can only help that she has the God of Destruction on her side.

Getting ahead of myself, though. We have the famous confrontation to speak on. You know the one.

I understand the sentiment by Eren here but he was never going to get an accurate answer. At least not immediately. The poor girl is shocked. She’s been interrogated time and again about her loyalty to Eren and what exactly it means. The one person who has never questioned her further is the man himself. One can imagine how long he’s sat on this inquiry. He knew what he had to do. No answer she gave would have diverted his path, but maybe he wanted one last thing to feel good about before he doomed the world.

Either way, the team runs in to interrupt them like some teen movie and they all proceed to get drunk with the family of the Middle Eastern boy they aided earlier. Ever since this type of story analysis was popularized online (and especially on YouTube) people have fallen into the habit of using the word “filler” without knowing what the word means.

Because we are consuming this series week by week and because Eren’s descent into arch-villainy has lasted well over a year at this point this current disaster really does feel like it would in real life. A long, brutal decline with only one outcome and no way to stop it. This chapter was a palette cleanser after months of endless despair. If you can remember there was indeed a time where everyone was friends and Eren wasn’t trying to KILL THE WORLD. This chapter was a reminder of that. The faintest light shines brightest in total darkness. That light is what Mikasa is doing her best to hold onto.

124 - All Falls Down

The most interesting part of this chapter, which is largely set-up, is Jean’s assessment of the situation from his perch on a rooftop. It’s muted and resolute. The usual emotion is missing entirely. The fire is gone as he accepts the world’s creeping fate. The story’s most morally consistent character is seen trying to work out the thought process behind ending the world. They’re our enemies. They were going to attack us eventually. We were sitting ducks. Maybe this was always going to happen. His last observation is less rhetorical. In order to protect his friends, Eren has sacrificed the entire world. This includes the Subjects of Ymir who all received Eren’s message from the last chapter.

No time to contemplate that horror with the fresh hell of Zeke’s titanized victims running wild in Shiganshina which sounds mighty familiar. There’s a poignant scene that follows of the 104th cutting down their fellow soldiers, many of whom helped train them. It shows how far they’ve come and the overall affect their adventures have had on them that they are able to destroy their comrades without hesitation.

Ah! But this is SnK after all. The horrors are often double stacked. The time has come to decide which titan Falco gets fed to. Before anyone can note what terrible timing this is with a horde of Titans destroying the village around them, Connie makes an executive decision to nab the unconscious boy and feed him to his stranded Titan mother in his hometown.

Of course, no one believed at the time that Connie would be able to go through with such and act especially on someone as sweet and naïve as Falco, but it really drives home the not-so-quiet desperation of these characters and how each of them reacts to it. Mikasa and Jean are both trying to keep a level head. Armin isn’t in hysterics by any means but is missing his usual confidence. Connie, having already lost his best friend and half his squad is the first to let the despair of the situation get to him. It’s the same reason Armin volunteers to go after him. No it won’t solve any of their macro problems but reconciling with young Gabi and feeling like a hero again can at least make you feel useful in the face of your best friend trampling the world underfoot.

The reveal of Annie at the very end of this chapter after more than half a decade gone is classic Isayama melodrama and it’s one of the reasons that, despite monthly leaks, Shingeki no Kyojin is still a worldwide best-selling phenomenon. I don’t have much else to say about it other than having her gasping for air like a fish out of water after being encased in a Disney Princess Prison was a nice choice. One would have to think that seeing Annie again would have some sort of affect on Eren even in his current Kaiju state. Eh, I’m getting ahead of myself though.

Stray Thoughts

- Jean continues to be my favorite character in the story. With Pixis gone and Hange out of action, he’s the easy choice as acting Commander. Leading his own squad and the neighboring soldiers into battle against the rampaging Titans is heroism that stands out even more after sitting through months of the Jaeger Brothers’ power play.

- Shadis returning to aid the cadets that beat him down at Floch’s behest is all you need to know about his character. He’s a gruff man and his stint as the Survey Corps Commander left him emotionally busted. However, he never once forgot why he started doing this in the first place. He can’t save the world but he can save these kids, dammit.

- All Titan hardening has been rendered inert by Founder Ymir throwing off her chains. This includes Reiner who reveals to Gabi that his Titan’s armor fell off as the walls came down. Nothing in SnK happens on accident so we’ll put a pin by this and see where it goes.

- Reiner explains to a distraught Gabi, who is looking for Falco, that Eren is extra unstoppable because with full control of the Founder he now has full control of all Eldians. One has to wonder if the Ackerman Loophole is still in effect.

- Gabi used the same gun that started The Rumbling to save Kaya from a 2m Titan. Alright, jokes aside, I can put on my critical hat and say that this callback to Sasha was a bit ham-fisted and you could have found a less visceral way for Gabi to realize the error of her ways. (Avatar: The Last Airbender will always hold the title for this trope.) All that can be true and I still like Gabi showing some agency here. Being insistent on finding Falco and helping him is pretty key development imo. He’s the main reason she’s still alive.

125 - The Next Step

Annie is me when I write exposition. I know you think it’s “boring” and “filler” or whatever but I don’t care! Shut up and learn something for once, eh?

Anyway.

Annie and Hitch have catching up to do. I was about to say they were former roommates but as noted above, Hitch spent four years watching over the captive soldier. Now that she’s free and the world is ending she sees no reason to hold on to her backstory any longer. Annie was adopted and the man who trained her was also the man who raised her. It wasn’t until she was about to set sail for Paradis that he showed any remorse for her indoctrination. Even still, Annie never forgot his words and has been trying to get back to him as soon as she can by any means she can.

Taking off my critic hat I have to wonder what her mindset was locking herself away in that crystal. Obviously if she hadn’t the outcome is almost certainly being devoured by Eren or someone else as they were but a few short months away from learning the truth behind Titan Succession. Still, there’s no guarantee that she ever escapes at all. I was half convinced that Isayama was working toward the biggest troll job in the history of fiction by ending the story with Annie still in captivity. He didn’t though, so we have the rest of the narrative to work out what that means.

Sorta like these two.

Eh, he’s not wrong but his frustration is misdirected here. Mikasa asked a very valid question about what to do about the World Killer that happens to be their (former?) best friend. Mikasa is the only one in the group asking this question because she’s the only one that no longer id’s Eren as the hero of Stohess. Connie is a minor distraction especially compared to the army of Colossals; Armin knows this too but Connie is a distraction from the creeping dread that Eren is now unstoppable.

And Mikasa’s face here…oof. That’s two of her soon-dead Titan Bros who have yelled at her today. Should it hurt more? Probably but she is so far past hurt feelings at this point. She’s a soldier and she has work to do. Asking for a directive isn’t something to get triggered by but Armin is at his breaking point here. The little things that add up to make your shit sandwich 12 feet high. And so we hope that his side quest brings him peace.

I love this character.

He never once falters in his moral fiber. The depression keeps him from recognizing this but he is indeed special in his own way. After all is said and done that’s really all that can be expected of us. Shadis, ever the mentor tells his kids not to be heroes. Really, this quote can be transplanted to our current political situation IRL. There’s a lot of things wrong with the current system and we’d all like to make it better but we still have work and school and various other obligations to deal with and those don’t go away because we want to “make a difference.” The time will come to make your voice heard. Be ready when it happens, not before.

I do like how Shadis basically accepts his fate as a sacrifice to Floch’s faction as his only other option with the other heads of military dead are going on the run like Solid Snake and he is not about that life. He would rather take the rest of his lumps and be done with it.

This Fucking Guy

This is peak Lord of the Flies shit. Society has dissolved and the chain of command has been broken so just do whatever, dude! Think about what Armin said before. History always repeats itself without the proper prevention. The best prevention, of course, being education. Floch is the best example of why eliminating one side does not truly extinguish conflict. Even at the start we see various Shiganshina residents rightfully blaming Eren for his role in the destruction caused by the walls coming down.

The only way to reach consensus is with terror. We got a mere preview when Zackley got TNT’d so many moons ago. Now we see Floch Forster doing his best Neegan impression, splattering a volunteer’s brains across the floor. I won’t repost it but that panel is probably up there with Ymir’s cannibalization for most visceral of the story. Brutal in its suddenness, it almost becomes a smash cut. After so much death and destruction this act of violence isn’t lost in the pages because of how much grislier the executions are rendered. The intimacy of a human ending another’s life without the aid of a fleshy mech. I digress, though. Floch must be stopped or the future of Paradis is sealed, Rumbling or not.

Stray Thoughts

- “I’ll tell Connie! That even as a Titan overturned on her back, his mom is fine as she is!” My goodness this story is dark.

- I have been mercifully absent from fandom developments, so I have no idea if people are still as turnt about the Gabi character as they were when I left. With that said, it’s fun to see some good logical development, just like every adult fan of this series predicted there would be.

- Again, is Kaya being saved by Gabi in a direct parallel to Sasha doing the same a bit on the nose? Quite so. It isn’t good or bad and, honestly, judging by some meta I’ve seen in the past I don’t blame any author for erring on the side of the obvious.

- Have I said this next one before? Who knows? Reviving Erwin on that rooftop instead of Armin wouldn’t have changed much besides short-term strategy. Once the Usurper started down the Dark Path even Commander Handsome would be powerless to stop him.

126 - Hold the Line

Levi and Hange are on the lamb in the Forest of Big Ass Trees and the set up for this detour is a solid string of pages with Hange building shelter, tending to Levi’s wounds and picking off the new Survey Corps members that have been sent by Floch to find them be cause War is Hell.

This opening stanza is good because it highlights one of my favorite aspects of this character: their resourcefulness. First impressions being what they are lead people to take a throwaway joke about Hange keeping a pet Titan and let it inform one-note headcanons of their entire character. It shouldn’t be said but I will anyway. Hange is a clinical genius with a sharp wit in compliment. Their best skill is problem solving which would explain partially why they work so well with Armin. However, their particular thought process makes the kind of executive planning required from a Commander extremely challenging. Hange is better at devising a plan then receiving the instructions necessary to carry it out, if that makes sense.

Isayama, per usual, doesn’t spend the whole chapter on backtracking. He could have maybe but we do still have a story to get through. Isayama is a good author to study for improving your exposition. He conveys so much information with so little real estate. I still struggle and I’ve been at this for years.

I digress, though. Now we have Theo Magath lifting his gun to a crippled Levi in order to cope with the fact that he is A) stranded and B) not even slightly in control of this hopeless situation. So he listens and it turns out all four of these folk want the same thing, which is Zeke’s head on a platter. A very popular menu item to be fair.

For the uninformed here I am a fan of good dark comedy. This panel right here had me howling. As predicted by [checks notes] everybody, Connie did not have the gumption to callously lead this innocent child to their death. In one last effort to preserve his own conscience he explains that his Titanized mother who has been stranded for four years needs to be cleaned. Like you do. Every little detail eight down to his face when he thinks Falco has him made is so well done.

Of course, Armin and Gabi show up just in time. Armin, still haunted by Levi’s choice to save him, makes a bet on Connie’s bond with his squad that he did not seem overly confident in being correct on. Can’t truly call yourself a 104th alum until you’ve accepted your own untimely death.

Skipping ahead a bit now. Floch is very busy being The Worst and if there hasn’t been a better collection of panels to illustrate the moral of the story. Yelena and Onyankapon have been lined up and are set to be publicly executed for their “crimes” against Eldia. The notable bit here for me is the way Isayama depicted the spectators. The have gnarled, twisted visages, some of them literally frothing at the mouth. You see, because extremist nationalism is bad and racism makes you ugly in every sense of the word.

Jean is tasked with gunning down Onyankapon but fires four rounds into the ground instead. This begins a series of Hashtag Machinations that will no doubt become clearer as the story unfolds. Jean and the two POWs escape in the Cart Titan’s mouth and the rest of the 104th leaves to collect Reiner and try to (somehow) stop Eren.

They had to try. Even at the cost of their own security it is difficult to agree with mass genocide. Having Annie on the team will be interesting as she and Eren were close. What’s left for me to wonder is how they plan to reach Eren, physically or otherwise, while he’s like…that. Every month more questions for each answer but after a decade you get used to it.

Stray Thoughts

- Pieck’s surname is Finger? Or is this some Hange headcanon?

- We know Isayama is a big GoT fan. Apologies if this take has appeared elsewhere but an Ackerman keeping their promise seems to be his version of a Lannister paying their debt.

- Years after his death, the spirit of Erwin lives on in these characters. For some, it inspires strength; for others, only guilt.

- I’ve gone back to the interaction between Mikasa and Louise several times to try and get between the lines. Mikasa asking for her scarf back seems self-explanatory since it’s hers but Eren telling the girl to “throw it away” intrigues me. Seems to me that of all the things he had to give up to walk this path that his relationship with Mikasa is what he mourned the most in that cell.

- Always a good time to see Jean being a clever boy.

- Hange/Pieck banter is not something I knew I needed until I read this chapter.

- Hange’s fierce protectiveness of Levi makes more sense when you realize that these two are the only ones left of their original squad. The veterans of the military have all been cleared out, some more violently than others.

- It’s all but stated outright that Ackermans are part Titan. Goes a long way to explain their freakish strength and athleticism and their durability. Evidenced by the fact that Levi was apparently further from death than Zeke after the latter blew them both up.

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smile-files · 4 years

Text

heya folks

gonna write a long post about the nicest person i know who i’ll probably never see again :’[

it’s an interesting story, but i wouldn’t blame you for not wanting to take the time to read it. do what you’d like!

it was after 7th grade just ended; i wasn’t in the best place emotionally, things kinda sucked. i was excited for camp, however, something i always looked forward to. i got placed in a bunk and stuff, of which there were 4; i was happy with the counselors, too (their names were ariel and jared). i was kinda bummed that one of my favorite counselors, named eli, wasn’t working there as a counselor anymore - he still worked at the camp, but whatever position he had i didn’t see him around as much.

at camp i would carry around a drawing notebook and a fanny pack, in which i had pens, pencils, the like. i soon noticed that another counselor, named shai, had a fanny pack; no, we didn’t ‘bond’ over it or whatever, but that’s one thing that made him grab my attention.

my camp is a ramah camp, which is a jewish camp; one of the activities that we’d have were a kind of elective we’d sign up for, called ‘shiur’ (literally means work), which integrated jewish learning with some activity - sometimes it’d be calligraphy, or pokemon, or super heroes. during first session i chose the pokemon shiur. normally, during the shiur period, counselors would go off and have a meeting. but, for some reason, shai would always hang out near where we’d have our pokemon shiur. i knew, of course, that this was because of julian.

i don’t know a specific reason why, but camp ramah tends to have a good number of autistic kids going there; some of them have a specific ‘caretaker’ of sorts who are with them to make sure they’re okay. my sister had one, my friend abby, and julian - shai tended to be with him and made sure he was okay. (something i find fascinating about julian was how he loved drawing road maps and signage)

it just so happened that julian picked the same shiur as me both sessions -pokemon in first and super heroes in second - so shai tended to be around. in this way i got to get to know him.

he noted my art on several occasions - he said that i’d be good at doing henna considering how frequently i’d draw on the back of my hand; when making the banners for color war, he said he’d abduct me so i could do the banner for his team (no abducting ever occurred, lol)

shai is a very funny person - i don’t know his mbti type, but i’m dead set on him being an nf. he was nice to be around, and i keep describing him as ‘supportive’; no wonder why, considering the circumstances of most of second session.

near the end of each session, we would have an overnight trip we’d go on (for two nights, three days). on the first trip, shai unfortunately wasn’t able to come for whatever reason. it was still a fun trip, but i still missed him.

come second session, however, and things would be different - shai was able to come with us on our trip to baltimore! i ended up sitting in the back of the coach bus, and shai was sitting across from me. something i noted is that he’s one to ask ‘you okay?’ a lot. and i mean a lot.

on the first day of the trip, we went to the national aquarium, got caught in a downpour, and watched an orioles vs yankees baseball game in the rain. we arrived at the synagogue we were staying in and went to bed; i got my typical 7 hours of sleep.

the next day we went to six flags! i chose the slow group because i’m a wimp. i had been wearing my galaxy hoodie at the time; when we stopped to have lunch, shai seemed concerned about me. woop

we went back into six flags after lunch; at one point we went on some raft ride type thing, and we were sitting on a bench in the sun to dry off (we’d gotten drenched). i was still wearing my hoodie (which, i may note, is rather thick). eventually shai’s group came around and they sat next to us on the bench.

shai checked the temperature on his phone, which was 90 degrees farenheit, so he said that i should probably take off my hoodie; i was only convinced after the “do it for me” thing that people do that just sells it. note: after his group left i put the hoodie back on lmao, now that’s a story i tell a lot (along with the story of eli having gone illegally ziplining with jesus)

that night, for whatever reason, i slept terribly. i fell asleep at 10:40 and woke up 48 minutes later, at 11:28. i was left sitting in the dark, super bored; i watched counselors walk in and out of the room, i counted to 1000, i went to the bathroom to sing to myself, i looked out the window. either way i had to wait 8 hours for everyone else to get up.

by this time this was the last day on the trip, and we were going to go to an elderly home. we packed up our stuff, something i did quickly. i then kind of wandered aimlessly around the room, waiting for everyone else to finish. this prompted another ‘you okay?’ from the shaister.

i managed to nap on the bus, but only for half an hour. we eventually got to the place; we were going to talk to them, give them ceramic gifts that people had apparently made, and that one kid who can play any song on the piano by ear just went off.

you may know that i’m a rather shy person; this, for whatever reason, felt like any party i’d ever been to - isolated and very anxious. there were a number of girls who said they were scared, but they weren’t shy - they were just scared of old people or something. shai convinced them that old people are not scary, then came to console me; he noted that people used the pun of “shy” and “shai�� sounding similar on him a lot, but now he could actually use that himself. he didn’t pressure me to do anything i didn’t want to, and even suggested going outside if i really felt uncomfortable. i probably should’ve gone outside, but i didn’t. eventually we all went outside anyway to have rita’s ices, but i didn’t want any.

i’m pretty sure that’s all the trip stuff, but there’s more afterward. there are some stupid inconsequential things that i just find kind of amusing, to say the least. for one thing, there were these tacky plastic champagne glasses that the counselors had for whatever reason; there was this show going on, and everyone was bored out of their minds. shai just gave me one of these stupid glasses with no context, for the lulz or whatever. my response was to draw a smiley face on it with sharpie and give it back. he found this rather amusing.

one day i brought this shark plushie to camp, whom i called ‘smore’ because he looked like a marshmallow. shai insisted it was a piranha just to annoy the heck out of us, an argument that lasted two days.

another thing, one of the counselors was going to be leaving for israel before camp ended, so we had this whole thing where basically you could give a shoutout to anybody and thank them; i decided to thank the counselors in general, as most teenagers wouldn’t tolerate leading around a bunch of loud middle schoolers; shai knew i was a rather shy person, so he said that it was a very good thing of mine to do.

my age group was actually an amalgamation of several age groups - rising 6th graders, rising 7th graders, and rising 8th graders. being in the latter group, i was going to take part in some stupid graduation. and, you see, we all had to write speeches for it.

i wrote a speech, whatever, which mostly consisted of thanking counselors (in general i get along better with figures of authority, eg. counselors or teachers or whatever rather than fellow kids). i was very worried about the whole ordeal, but i did it; afterwards shai said he was proud of me for giving my speech despite how anxious i was about it.

and note how i never outright told the guy how anxious i was about any of these things - he’s just the type of person who knows; i always value people like that, given how i never tell anyone anything :’]

when it came to the last day of camp, i wanted to make sure shai knew how thankful i was for everything he did for me. i didn’t know a single other person who was half as validating and supportive of me as he was. but, being me, i couldn’t just tell him. no, i had to make a hand out of pipe cleaners, write a card, fold it up and make it look like an ice cream cone, put the folded card into the hand, and then awkwardly give it to him.

he initially said he’d read it later; but soon enough he read it and then i got a shai hug. yea!

welp everything after camp sucked! before school started i was so worried how i’d cope with my dumb issues without shai being there; i came to miss him a ton. like really, a ton.

before that summer, i had camp dreams like, heck, maybe once or twice a year?

but since that summer of 2019, i’ve had ~15+ camp dreams. i really missed him. i longed for the support he’d give me when i was anxious, for the knowledge that somebody understood me. i eventually started having headaches a lot, so i came to ‘think’, “oh! he’s trying to telepathically talk to me!”

i never did believe that to be the case, but imagining that i could talk to shai was comforting. every day i’d talk into my hand, telling him how my day went, asking him about his, and sometimes singing him a song or something. this came to be a normal thing i did routinely. i would get worried when i didn’t get headaches for a while, as i perceived those as him ‘responding’, so i would think i did something wrong.

i would frequently worry about if i’d ever see him again - i had no way of knowing if he’d be a counselor at camp this year. then covid-19 came and i knew he couldn’t. at some points it really bothered me how much my mental health revolved around this person who i knew for around 2 months and who i’ll probably never see again.

as of now, i still do miss him. i still had camp dreams. i literally had one last night, where i saw shai and was trying to call out to him, but he didn’t hear me. i still do ‘talk’ to him, but it’s not like i think i’m actually speaking to him. but heck, if it’s comforting to me, there’s no reason not to.

but really, shai seems more like a figment of my imagination now. it’s been a year since i’ve last seen him. was he ever real?

i would draw him sometimes, imagine what it’d be like to talk to him again. how i wish i could talk to him again.

there are so many silly little things i remember about shai - his poofy hair, his aviator sunglasses, how his fanny pack had writing on it in red sharpie and had multiple sunscreens in it, how he almost got hit by a cookie...

shai is the nicest person i’ve ever known, and it’s a shame that i’ll probably never see him again. he’s the kind of person i want to be - i want to be able to understand people and cheer them up when they’re upset. i want to have poofy hair and call people ‘bud’ unironically...

oh to be you, shai...

(oh wait, i know he exists because apparently you can find his channel on youtube and his pfp is his face... the only thing on it is one comment saying “thanks for subscribing” lmao :’])

if any of you know who i’m talking about, or think you do, please tell me!! :’0

thanks broskis *sob*

#ramble #long post #shai bocarsly if you're out there i miss you so hecking much aaaaaa #wait i already had that tag?#oh #when the heck did i use it before?#:']

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olliexsmythe · 4 years

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Dazed and Confused || NOLLIE

Who: Oliver Smythe and Noah Duval ( @tapdancingduval )

Where: Noah’s Suite

When: Wednesday 22nd April, early hours of the morning

Notes: Oliver wakes up in bed alone, and stumbles upon a very disturbing site. Noah is not dealing with the aftermath of the punishment very well.

Warning: Self-flagellation

Noah

Noah had determined before he'd even finished unlocking Owen that he would never tell anyone what he had done that night. He would smile and talk about the room full of spiders. I'm alright he would tell them Got off easy he would assure them. He could get on with the business of taking care of the people he loved and try to forget. Once the guards brought him to the switch dorms he started looking for his brothers and Ollie. He wouldn't believe that what he had done had really saved Ollie until he saw him.

Ollie

His body hurt; of course it did, and he knew he’d only made it worse for himself by swinging his legs and the satisfying chuckle that came with his foot connecting with a guard’s crotch. But mentally, this didn’t hurt him. It didn’t make him feel like less of a person, less worthy of love so all in all, he considered himself lucky. He didn’t know the person he freed him, but she filled him in on enough of the basics to broaden his picture of what had actually happened that night. His eyes landed on Noah almost immediately, and he felt his whole body relax with relief. They may be broken and bruised, but he knew as soon as he could get his arms around him, everything would feel a little better. Everyone else fell away as he crossed the room to him, folding his arms around him and pulling him fiercely into his chest. ‘C’mere. Toby promised I could have the spare room.’ He muttered. He didn’t want to debrief, to truly try to comfort him amidst the business of the main living area.

Noah

Ollie. There he was. He stood there for just a moment taking in the sight of him like a drink of water after a trek across the desert. Noah tried out his smile as he was pulled into tight hug, but it felt weird and out of place. "Toby? Oh..." He let himself be pulled along, feeling a step behind. "Wait. Are you alright? Did they... did they beat you?" He stepped back so that he could look at him. Up and down looking at every injury and cataloging them.

Ollie

'I promise I'm okay. The guards found me; I wasn't exactly well hidden or in any position to make myself blend in. They were mocking at first -- they made some comment about' He stopped and shook his head. He knew what they mocked him about but he wasn't going to repeat it. 'I can't even remember. I fought back. I'm sick of taking their shit. It wasn't my smartest move, granted. But for a hot minute, it felt fucking great. I hate the idea of hurting someone but the noise he made when I kicked him. It felt a lot like revenge for all the shit they've put us through.' He was talking quickly, and he forced himself to slow down, his accent even sounding thicker to his own ears. He brought his hand up to cup Noah's cheek and stared at him, long and deep. 'The girl who got me filled me in on some details about what was happening to you. I don't know what your choice was but I feel like you had to make an impossible one to try to protect me. Because there's no-one who loves me, or cares about me the way you do. And I know you chose to protect me.' he said softly. 'I know how they play games with your head so I'm not gonna insist you tell me the details yet, but you protected me.' He'd walked past the submissive, a girl he didn't recognise, and Kirin in the courtyard. He could only assume that's what happened to those who weren't protected.23 April 2020

Noah

I hate the idea of hurting someone What would he think of the idea of whipping a completely innocent someone until they bled? The gentle way Ollie was cupping his cheek and the curving lilt of his accent nearly made him break, but he managed to hold onto the unraveled tethers of his self control. He tried on that smile again and thank God it held this time. "I'm fine. Was just spiders. Had to get the key in a room full'a spiders." His fear of spiders was pretty well known. And it was the truth. It just wasn't the whole truth. He was already working hard to push the real truth of the night as deep down as it would go. "Can we go home. Want to make sure you're alright."

Ollie

Oliver studied him carefully. Noah was scared of spiders; it was a running joke that Ollie would always have to be the one who got them out of the house, but Noah seemed so fragile and broken, and Ollie couldn't fathom him being so scared of spiders that it would cause that. He furrowed his brow, and swiftly came to the conclusion that now wasn't the time. He leaned in and kissed him, softly -- stepping completely into his personal space. He breathed him in, and then nodded. 'Okay mon amour. Let's go home. I promise you can inspect every inch of me until you're satisfied that I'm alright.' He thought perhaps Noah needed to take care of him, before he could allow himself to be taken care of, and Ollie understood that.

Noah

Noah practically held his breath waiting to see if Oliver would buy it. The thing about being in love with the smartest person you knew was that they definitely saw through your bullshit. But maybe if he believed his bullshit enough it could just be the truth and Ollie would never have to know. Noah himself would never really have to know; never have to think about it ever again. So, he waited and held his breath, nearly giving the it up when he actually sighed in relief. "Yeah... yeah. I got some salves and creams and stuff yesterday so. And I got the ice packs ready." It was one of the first lessons he learned at Lima was to have plenty of ice packs. He reached out for Ollie's hand and pretended that his hand wasn't shaking.

Ollie

Oliver let himself be led out of the Switch Dorm, to the Dominant one. There were seemingly countless students now starting to mill around, figuring out their place to go. He didn't feel like he could truly relax until they were back inside the familiarity of Noah's suite, with the world locked out and only the two of them inside. 'What do you need Noe?' he asked, leading him through to the bedroom. It had been their bedroom, but he didn't think he'd slept there since before they'd broken up.

Noah

Walking from one building to another was like being in a movie. After the end of the battle and people just wander around shell shocked. Fellow students looked as shell shocked as he felt and he had to keep his head down, not wanting to see his reflection anymore. Especially not when he was working so hard to remake how he was feeling and deny what had happened. He breathed in and out once they were home, wishing that Astrid was there. He let Ollie lead them back to the bedroom. "I'm fine. Really Ollie. It wasn't so bad. I was just really scared that they lied, you know? That they would punish you anyway...." he looked at a bruise blooming on his cheek. "and they did." He reached out and stroked delicately over the reddened skin. "Where else are you hurt?"

Ollie

‘No, my bruises aren’t on you Noe. My bruises are on me being an idiot who can’t take a beating without throwing my fists around. Or feet, rather in this case.’ The more Noah insisted he was fine, the less Ollie believed him. ‘They got me across my back, shoulders mainly but it’s nothing that won’t heal.’ He stepped back from his embrace so he could pull the shirt he’d borrowed from Toby off, and turned around to let Noah examine him. ‘See? It aches, but it won’t linger.’

Noah

"You're not an idiot. Assholes deserved it." But he knew of course what Oliver meant. Fighting back ultimately just backfired and got you hurt worse. When Oliver took off his shirt and turned around, Noah sucked in a breath through his teeth. Was it the worst he'd seen since being at the school? No. It wasn't even the worst injuries he'd seen on Ollie and didn't that make a shudder run up his spine. He raised his and and ran just one finger, feather light along the marks there before reaching for the balm and starting to lightly work it in. "Tell me if it hurts, yeah?" That was a dumb question. Of course it hurt. "It'll heal," he repeated, wanting to will the words into reality.

Ollie

He didn't flinch, didn't wince. He wasn't so sore that he needed to upset or worry Noah more than the Dominant was already worrying. In fact, despite the pain, the way Noah's fingers worked against his skin was soothing, comforting. Like the deep satisfaction that came with a much needed massage. 'Toby said you were able to unlock two submissives.' he commented, glancing over his shoulder.

Noah

Well thank you Toby "Oh yeah... just a littler task. Guess they didn't have enough dominants for each submissive." He shrugged, hoping that would put an end to it. The more tangled this web got the harder it would be for him to maintain it for himself. "Want to lay down? I can give you a proper massage. Then sleep?" He wanted to go to sleep and wake up and just pretend this night never happened.

Ollie

'Everything that I've witnessed about tonight tells me nobody was asked to do anything little.' he commented, turning around to face him. He cupped his face again, needing the physical contact to keep himself sane and on task. 'I'm not going to beg, or plead with you. I'm not going to fight with you, and I'm not going to force you. I won't leave if you still choose not to tell me everything that happened to you tonight. But I want you to know that I want to know. And I'm not hiding anything from you Noah.'

Noah

Noah flinched but didn't back away. "I don't... not... I won't." He shook his head. "It's not... I want to forget it. I... please Ollie." He shook his head and finally moved away, just shaking his head and trying to find things to do, straightening the already perfectly flat bedspread. "Gotta forget it... gotta... I'm fine. I'm fine Ollie" He could still feel the whip in his hand and unconsciously started shaking it like a limb that has gone to sleep.

Ollie

‘So something more did happen.’ He’d suspected it but Noah’s reaction confirmed everything for him. Well, not everything. He didn’t know what happened but it was more than spiders to shake him up like that. ‘Don’t lie to me Noah. You’re not fine.’ His voice was soft, gentle — a tone that was exclusively reserved for the perfectly imperfect and utterly brilliant man in front of him. He climbed on the bed, kneeling and caught Noah’s hands. ‘Pretending it didn’t happen won’t make you forget it. You don’t have to talk to me now, but don’t pretend you’re okay when I know you’re not. Come to bed. Let me hold you.’

Noah

He was lying but his deeper intention wasn't to lie to Ollie. It was to lie to the universe and make none of it have happened. He climbed up on the bed and into those arms that he knew so well. "I have to forget it." And it did feel that imperative. "What I did tonight..." He shook his head again. "It's better if you don't know. Don't want no one to know"

Ollie

‘It’s not better. It’ll eat you up inside.’ He was glad to be the big spoon, able to cradle Noah against his chest and stroke through his hair. ‘I’m not just anyone Noe. We’ve both seen the other at their worst, their lowest, their happiest.’ He held him closer, and kissed his hair. ‘If tonight’s not the night, that’s okay. You can rest. Sleep. I’ll stay right here with you. For always.’

Noah

He opened his mouth but no words came out. How could explain to Ollie that saying it out loud would just make it real. He shook his head. "Just want to sleep."

Ollie

‘That’s okay my love. You can sleep. For as long as you need.’ He was confident he’d find out what happened eventually, but whatever it was, it had already made him hate Sue Sylvester more, made him hate this awful school, and this awful system. His Noah was a gentle, kind soul and this was the last thing he deserved.

Noah

Actually the last thing he thought he'd be able to was sleep but somehow he did, almost immediately aware of nothing but Ollie's gentle but solid embrace. When he woke up there was light coming in the window, but he had no idea what time it was. He was only thinking about the sound of that boy's whimpering as he'd whipped him bloody. With sudden clarity he knew exactly what he needed to do. He padded out of the bedroom and retrieved the key off the high kitchen shelf. The playroom smelled dusty and musty with disuse never having been used in the entire time he was there. After a little bit of searching he found a flogger just like the one he'd used. Did they buy them in bulk? All that was left to repeat his performance. He sat in the center of the room and threw the flogger over his shoulder as hard as he could, over and over losing himself in the well earned pain. He'd made an innocent man feel this. He'd tortured someone. No self inflicted pain could erase that, but at least he would know what he'd done. His sin would be etched into his skin.

Ollie

It hadn’t been the most comfortable position to sleep in, but when Noah had fallen asleep, he hadn’t wanted to move. When he woke up, he was acutely aware of the chill that came from the other man’s absence. He must be in the bathroom, so he stayed awake — in that half asleep state, awaiting his return. In the quiet and stillness, he could faintly hear a sound he recognised from the same smack being made against his own skin. Whoever had decided now was the time to ‘play’ was an idiot, and he pushed himself out of bed, fully prepared to yell at Noah’s neighbours. Upon exiting the bedroom, the sound grew louder and he felt his whole body chill when he noticed one room, which had previously been locked, was now slightly ajar. Evidently, Noah didn’t hear him because when he stepped into the room, his boyfriend didn’t stop. Oliver didn’t know how long he stood there; frozen, horrified, chilled. His mouth was agape, and he was completely lost for words. Noah’s back was a criss-cross of angry red welts, thin lines of what looked like blood — although he couldn’t be sure from a distance in poor light. He didn’t become aware of the tears rolling down his face until he managed to speak. ‘What are you doing?’ He spoke quietly but it felt like the sound reverberated and echoed throughout the room.

Noah

Noah kept his eyes closed as he worked trying very hard to picture the man he'd whipped. This was supposed to be some kind of penance, but each painful stroke of the flogger just served push his guilt higher and higher. This was a choice. He was choosing this. The slave had no choice. He had just had to accept his torture at Noah's cruel hands. After a while the pain dissapated and all he felt was numbness and the gnawing guilt. It wasn't working and he felt dumb for thinking something so simple would absolve him. He hadn't heard Ollie come in but his quiet but pained question reverberated around the room like a gunshot. The flogger fell to the ground as he scrambled to his feet. "No... No, it's fine. Everything is fine. I'm fine." He backed away hands outstretched, palms up in some sort of mimickry of a nothing to see here gesture.

Ollie

His breathing had slowed. This wasn't panicking. He was possessed by an eerie sense of calm, something that felt almost unnatural. 'You're hurting yourself.' He stated only the facts; his mind wanted to wander and create a logical explanation, any logical explanation, but he couldn't. 'You're quite obviously not fine.' He stepped towards him, hand outstretched but he stopped short of actually touching him. There was a lump in his throat and he forced himself to swallow it down. 'Tell me what you're doing. Now. Don't -- Don't fucking lie to me anymore Noah.' There was no anger or malice in his voice. His tone was coloured entirely by fear and desperation.

Noah

"No, I am. I just... I just had to do this. Things are supposed to make sense. So I had to see...umm..feel what he felt and then it would be even." Is face scrunches up and he shook his head. "No not even. Can't really be even because I'm free. Right? But I had to know what he felt. Make it make sense. But I don't think I got it right." His voice was steady if maybe a tad manic. "I got it all wrong didn't I? You didn't want me to beat him. You would never want that." He was pacing the room now. "You're stronger and... and I don't respect that. But I was scared Ollie. You understand right? I didn't know what severe meant. I thought... I had to do it and I did it. I beat him and he bled and they let you out." He stopped pacing and looked up at Ollie. "I'm sorry." He brought his hand up to his chest to try and run the sudden tightness he felt there. "It's really hard to breath in this room isn't. Why's it so hard to breath?"

Ollie

'You're scaring me.' He wasn't scared of him, but he was scared by the way he was talking. He was desperately trying to piece together a full picture of what had happened, but it was almost impossible. His brain seemed to be working slower than it normally did, trying to comprehend and understand what he'd just seen. 'Let's just -- let's get out of here for a minute, yeah? Let's go sit outside, where it's cold and quiet and you can get some fresh air.' He wouldn't panic. He couldn't panic. Noah needed him right now, and nothing was more important than that. He touched him. Took his arm and led him out of the room. The living room seemed so much brighter. He didn't know what Noah needed first -- to have physical wounds tended to, to talk about what was going on. 'Don't close your eyes. Just look at me okay? I'm here, and we're safe and all you need to think about right now is breathing. Just keep looking at me, and breathe with me.' He didn't know what to do, but he knew he didn't want Noah to close his eyes. He suspected it was what he was seeing when he closed his eyes that was doing the damage.

Noah

He didn't want to scare Oliver. That was the last thing that he wanted. He nodded his head and let himself be led out to the living room. "Yeah... yeah. I... I'm breathing Ollie. I promise I... it's just.. that room I think." He did as his boyfriend asked though, matching his breathing to his. Every time his eyes slipped closed the image of the the slave would fill his vision and he'd snap them open to look at Oliver. After a while he moved closer. "I'll understand you know."25 April 2020

Ollie

‘Understand what Noe?’ He was scared to lift his voice to anything above a whisper. The image of Noah, the sound of the leather hitting his skin, was burned into his brain and it had shocked him to his core. Shocked him beyond what he could process or explain. His hand moved to rest Noah’s hip.

Noah

"Understand if you have to... well... if you can't be around me so much." After all Noah had left Ollie for no reason other than he thought he 'deserved better'. It was pretty reasonable that Oliver wouldn't want to be around Noah after everything he'd done. "You didn't sign up for this. But listen I didn't know. I didn't know I could torture someone. I didn't know. I never thought I would do that. You see... It's just... I don't know how to be, but I'll figure it out."

Ollie

‘Noah, I’m not leaving.’ He was scared, but he’d never been scared for himself. ‘I don’t — I’m trying to piece everything together from what you’re saying but I’m struggling.’ He didn’t know if that was because Noah’s information was disjointed or because he had just blocked parts of it out completely. ‘Can we sit down? Can you sit with me and tell me exactly what happened?’

Noah

Noah followed instructions and sat down. The marks on his back pulled a little bit, but nothing to badly. He chewed on his lip. He would rather go back to that awful room than do this, but he couldn't deny Ollie his right to know anymore. "None of us knew, you know? We figured it would be the same... just straight up awful. That damn song, no sleeping, stupid choices to make. But... but it's wasn't like that. It was just one choice. One fucking choice." His head tilted to the side and his shoulders hunched. "H...had to whip a slave til he bled or you would get a severe punishment. I know. I know Ollie. I know I chose wrong. I think I knew that it would be disgusted in me. I just... I just I didn't know what severe punishment was and so I did it. I'm glad you didn't get hurt worse, but Ollie... Ollie... I don't know how to be now."

Ollie

He didn’t let go of Noah’s hands as he spoke. At some moments, his grip tightened marginally but he never let go. He was horrified. And disgusted. And angry, sad, hurt, shocked. But he didn’t feel those emotions towards Noah — all his anger, hate, disgust was overwhelmingly directed towards the people who had done this to his sweet, gentle Noah. It was insanity. In what world, did this constitute a punishment? This was torture. This was fucking up someone’s head, their mental health in a way that seemed impossible to fix. ‘I don’t think you chose wrong. He said softly. He wanted to cry for him. ‘I don’t think you chose wrong because I don’t think there was a right answer to choose my love.’ His breath left his lungs in a shudder. ‘I’m not disgusted with you. Or angry. I’m sad that someone forced your hand in this, I’m furious that someone orchestrated this. But you’re a victim too Noe. This isn’t just about something you did; this is — It’s something that was done to you.’

Noah

Noah was so all over the map that he was suddenly gripped by the fear that Ollie would think he meant he wanted him to be punished. "I didn't want you to get hurt." If it hadn't happened to him, if his head was a little clearer he would see that the blame lay with those who set this all into motion, but there was no way around the fact that it was his hand that held the flogger. It was he who whipped an innocent man. "I'm not though. I... I... There must have been a right answer. I just did it and I didn't think... I shoulda thought of the answer." He found himself leaning closer and closer until his body gave up and he collapsed against Ollie. "I won't ever do it again. Don't be scared. I won't ever hurt you like that. Please don't be scared." He didn't know if Oliver had really completely processed the despicable thing he did, but for the moment he'd hold tight to the knowledge that Oliver didn't lie. If he said he wasn't disgusted, then at least for now he wasn't. There was some hope in that, wasn't there?

Ollie

‘I know, I know Noah. It’s going to be okay.’ He kept his hands off his back, not wanting to further irritate his skin. He stroked though his hair, and kissed him softly. He was completely lost for words, and he was frightened. Noah asking him not to be scared didn’t alleviate any fear. Oliver was terrified that this would break the man he loved and he’d be completely powerless. ‘You need to get some rest.’ He whispered. ‘Let me take you back to bed. I have sleeping pills; nothing too strong but something that’ll help you fall asleep and stay asleep long enough to get some real rest. I’ll tend to your back and I’ll be here when you wake up okay?’

Noah

Noah didn't have the energy to argue, not that he would have anyway. He wanted nothing more than to be with Ollie and forget all of it. He nodded. "Yeah... yeah. Sleep is good. You need to rest. They hurt you. You need to rest." He finally looked directly into Oliver's eyes. "You'll stay?" His voice sounded too lost even to his own ears.

Ollie

It was an eerie echo of the first time he’d met Noah; a fearfully muttered question, and a plea for him to stay so he didn’t have to be alone. He was as confident about his answer now as he had been back then. ‘I’m not going to go anywhere. I promise. I’ll stay with you my love.’

Noah

Ollie never left him. No matter what happened, no matter what he did, Ollie never left him. This was love. This was loyalty. This was devotion. "I love you."

#25th #April #2020 #April 25th 2020 #para: dazed and confused

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tinycamembert · 5 years

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team bonding

This started out as me just wanting to write about a scene based on the splat jam drawing from yesterday and it turned into many more words basically of me being mushy about how much I love this team. 4 little drabbles, the name shows the POV! All characters belong 2 @bottledupcomic / @tamarinfrog

I’m posting on mobile so sorry if there are formatting issues!!

———

1. Whinter

"What about this one?" Vadelma asks. On the plate lie four small pastries, sample size for her teammates, little berries nestled in the center of the flaky dough and melted chocolate drizzled over top. Whinter tries his best to admire it for half of a second before he shoves the entire thing in his mouth.

"Mmhmph," he manages, white hair flopping in his eyes as he empathetically nods his approval. To his left, his teammates are just as absorbed in the taste testing as he is.

"What's in the middle?" Marian asks, studying the half of the pastry left in her hand. Logan has already finished his and is eyeing the plate on the counter with extras.

"Raspberry compote," Vadelma says, fiddling with the plate as she watches her teammate's reactions. "It's not too much? That's what I wasn't sure about, adding that but then also putting the berries on the top? And then the chocolate—"

"It's perfect," Marian says.

"I love it," Logan agrees. He has a smudge of chocolate on the corner of his mouth. Vadelma smiles like a sunbeam.

"Great!" She says, scurrying back to the counter. "You all can have the rest, then. I'll make a brand new batch for customers later." The plate with the leftovers has six pastries.

"In case your parents want to try," Vadelma says to Marian, placing two gingerly in her outstretched hands.

"For your dad," she hands one to Logan.

"And one for your mom, one each for your brothers," Vadelma continues, this time to Whinter. She gives him quick little wink as she hands him the last one. "I put extra chocolate on this one for Cloud. So don't let those pesky brothers of yours take it."

"Oh, I won't." Whinter tries to wink back, but he's not sure if he winks so much as blinks really fast with both eyes. Not like it really matters. He knows that Vadelma already knows how much it means to him.

2. Logan

"Ha!" Marian crows, triumphant from her kneeling position on the floor. She had started the race leaning back on Vadelma's legs, but as the match progressed she ended up hunched forward over her controller, focused on the racing game on the screen in front of her.

"There's still another lap," Logan points out on Marian's right. He's not exactly feeling the pressure of competition, considering Whinter still is figuring out what all the buttons on the controller do and Vadelma is perfectly content to stay in the middle of the pack. Logan zooms around a corner and takes a jump off to a shortcut on the race map, which lands him safely in front of Marian again.

"Wh—you can't do that!" Marian exclaims. "That's cheating."

Logan grins slyly. "It's strategizing. Not cheating. You can see the path break off, you just chose not to take it."

"I didn't know it was a shortcut. But fine," Marian huffs, leaning forward further as she concentrates. Logan hears Whinter snicker behind him. Marian would never be able to complain about Logan taking shortcuts if he called it strategy. He's pretty sure it would go against her entire team philosophy, even if right now they were just playing Mario Kart. Whatever! Didn't matter. He was still gonna win.

"Ooh, Vadelma got something," Whinter announces, and Logan hears Vadelma's telltale giggle behind him. It is not a comforting sound.

"What did—hey, no!" He yells, but it's too late. Vadelma launches the blue shell, and the beepbeepbeepbeep of the timer starts to play in his corner of the screen as his doom rapidly approaches. Marian cackles beside him.

Marian isn't too far behind him, and neither is the blue shell—so Logan slows down.

He times the move perfectly—just as Marian catches up to him, she realizes her mistake, and the blue shell comes crashing down on them both, Logan's kart spinning in the middle as Marian goes careening off the edge.

"Logan!!" She shrieks, as he crosses the finish line all alone and Whinter howls with laughter behind him.

"Oh dear," Vadelma says, her voice choked up like she's trying very, very hard not to laugh. She gives Marian a pat on the back as consolation. "Well, I tried my best, dear!"

Marian waves her hands around in the air as if trying to shoo the loss away. "No, no," she says, her cheeks red, a smile threatening to break its way onto her face. "You know what? It was a good strategy."

3. Vadelma

"Oh! And one last thing," Marian says, as Vadelma pours her captain a cup of lavender tea—another one—now almost an hour into this team meeting. She wishes she had brought the coffee pot over for herself. Honestly, Vadelma could listen to Marian talk all day about anything, but this supposedly "super quick" team meeting Marian called had devolved into a lecture about punctuality and new bottling plans and Vadelma's eyes were starting to droop.

"It's September 1st," Marian says, slapping her hands on the table as a form of punctuation, "So— it's almost Halloween."

Whinter lets out a long-suffering groan, thumping his head on the table. Logan pats him on the back. Marian narrows her eyes.

Very subtly, or so she hopes, Vadelma pushes the cup of tea a little closer in Marian's direction.

"You've been brainstorming costumes since July," Whinter grumbles. "What else is there to talk about?"

"I'm so glad you asked," Marian says, and pulls out her phone.

Vadelma peers over Marian's shoulder as she opens YouTube, and Marian scoots a bit closer and angles the screen towards Vadelma, looking pleased that her teammate is interested. The soft edges of her hair tickle Vadelma on the cheek.

Well, Vadelma is definitely interested. Maybe not in exactly what Marian is showing her on the screen, but it's fine. She watches anyways. The title of the video reads I Put a Spell on You.

"Um," Vadelma says, about a minute into the video. It looks like a dance number from an old Halloween movie.

"So... you want to do these costumes?" She asks. Please, just the costumes, she thinks.

"Well, yeah," Marian beams, passing her phone across the cafe table to Whinter and Logan so they can see what she's talking about. Marian takes a moment to adjust her glasses as they watch, and Vadelma and Logan exchange a look of barely concealed terror.

"Singing," Logan mouths. Vadelma widens her eyes in response and gives him a rapid shake of her head. She had the same thought.

"Marian." Logan says flatly. "What is this?"

"Hocus Pocus," Marian says, but the boys' faces remain blank. "The movie. That's the name of the movie? Hello?"

"Never heard of it," Whinter mumbles, still transfixed on the screen.

"That settles it," Marian says. "We'll do a team movie night so we can watch it. And then we can figure out who is going to be who."

Okay, a team movie night would be fun—

"And we can practice the dance some other time," Marian finishes. She takes a pleased sip of lavender tea.

Well, at least she didn't say singing. Probably. Vadelma will go along with it, and so will her teammates, because they all know how much it means to Marian.

"Like you said, it's almost Halloween," Vadelma says. "Would you like to get out the decorations?"

4. Marian

"Oh, no no," Marian says, feeling her cheeks flush darker by the second. "Don't sing. Please don't sing."

"But it's your birthday!" Whinter protests. "We have to sing."

"There's too many people in here!" Marian blusters. People in the cafe were already looking over when her teammates paraded out the cake Vadelma had made, no doubt having toiled over it for hours beforehand—at least Vadelma did. Marian is doubtful that Logan and Whinter had helped much beyond stealing fingerswipes of icing off the top of the cake while Vadelma swatted at them with the frosting pipe.

The mental image makes her grin for a moment before she's jerked back to the present, where her teammates, despite her protests, are now singing.

Happy birthday to you...

Everyone is looking over now, and to Marian's horror, other people are joining in.

Happy birthday, dear Marian,

Happy birthday to you!

Other cafe-goers clap as the song finishes, and Marian fights the urge to bury her face in her hands and laugh and strangle Vadelma and Whinter and Logan and cry with gratitude all at once.

"Thank you," she giggles, wondering if her face has ever been redder in her entire life. "You idiots."

"You're welcome, dear," Vadelma beams. "Try the cake!"

"We all worked very hard on it," Whinter says solemnly, and Vadelma must jab him in the back with her nails, because he lets out a yelp and Logan snickers at the spectacle.

The cake is beautiful. It has three layers and light blue icing slathered generously all over the top and sides, piped with darker blue waves that flow gracefully around the outside. There are rainbow sprinkles on top, which Marian guesses is the aforementioned hard work that Logan and Whinter said they put into it.

"The icing has lavender in it," Vadelma adds. "We thought you might need it."

Marian smiles like an idiot. She has the best teammates in the world, even if they embarrass her to death sometimes.

"I'll have some, but everyone else has to have some, too." she concedes. "This is way too big to eat by myself. Besides, it'll taste better if I can share it with all of you."

———

#bottled up #bup #splat jam #marian #whinter #logan #vadelma #fic #still dont remember by writing tag lol

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rosesisupposes · 5 years

Note

"I'll always be here for you" for logicality with patton angst 👀

Pattangst You Say? 😈 I see your Patton angst and raise you a Dark!Patton

Protective/Loyal Prompts

“I’ll always be here for you.”

word count: much longer than intended: 3,184 words

pairing: Logicality

warnings: Hurt/No Comfort; Dark Patton; Blood/Injury; Manipulation/Abuse

reader tags: [PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!] @residentanchor @royally-anxious @bewarethegrammarpolice @jemthebookworm @arandompasserby @sparkly-rainbow-salt @astral-eclipse @thelowlysatsuma @adorably-angsty

I needed very little encouragement to do this and I got some anyway.

>>read on ao3

Logan had been uncharacteristically clumsy lately.

The first time had been a lazy morning. He’d been up and about for a while when he returned to the kitchen for tea. Patton had been there, mixing up cookie dough. He’d heard Logan enter and turned from the counter, and the sunlight through the windows formed a nimbus of golden light around him. The brilliance was only rivaled by the smile. Logan had been caught in its entrancing glow, and felt the warmth of sunlight spreading on his cheeks. He’d only been called to the present when the mug in his hand suddenly was crashing against the island and the shards caught his hand.

Patton had immediately stopped what he was doing to run for the first-aid kit. He’d cleaned Logan’s cut and placed a Doctor Who bandage on it, then kissed it. “It makes it heal faster,” he’d said with a smile. For some reason his cheeks were pink as he spoke.

The second time, they’d just finished brainstorming a video downstairs and were making their ways back to their rooms. As Logan had walked down the hall, he’d heard a voice call his name.

“Logan! You did such a good job today! Thanks for being our resident genius!” Patton said with a wave. Logan had smiled and nodded as thanks, then promptly walked straight into his own bedroom door. Several minutes and an ice pack later, the bruise on his cheek was fading. The ice wasn’t enough to counteract the heat in his cheeks and Patton gently chided him to watch where he was going. It was just the embarrassment that made him blush, of course.

The third time, the others noticed. They’d been in the living room, discussing plans for the next week. Logan and Roman had started to disagree on priorities and gotten heated, loudly talking over each other. Roman was gesticulating flamboyantly when suddenly Patton spoke up. “I actually think Lolo has a point! Maybe we should go with his plan?”

Logan had turned to look over at the moral side. He’d been smiling back, a sweet expression reserved only for him. Logan felt heat rise in his cheeks again, and noticed nothing else. Or at least, almost nothing else. He dimly realized Roman had called to him and turned slightly, only to see a pencil seconds before it smashed into his face. He perceived a shocked and chagrined Roman, a shocked Virgil, and a concerned Patton already guiding him to the bathroom and the first-aid kit. “Thank you for your assistance once again, Patton,” he said. With his glasses removed, Patton was a blurry form in blue and grey with a surprising proportion of pink.

“Always, Lolo!”

It didn’t take long after that for Roman to confront him. In the true form of the creative side, he chose to do so in full view of all the light sides, in the middle of family game night.

“Logan, I’m amazed you’ve yet to drop all your cards tonight. You’ve been rather distracted lately, haven’t you?”

“Yes, it appears so. I have most definitely been having more than my normal amount of accidents. Perhaps whatever has been causing it has subsided.”

Roman rolled his eyes at Logan’s suggestion. “Patton, dear, do you think it’s been fixed?”

Patton started. “I, uh. I would think Logan would know best, wouldn’t he? He’s always so on top of this sort of thing.”

Roman watched as Logan’s blushing face swung towards Patton like a compass finding true north and rolled his eyes. “Hey, Professor Plum, if you’re so clever, why haven’t you told Patton you’re in love with him yet?”

Both bespectacled sides were suddenly staring at him, eyes wide and cheeks burning. Roman said nothing as he leaned back with a self-satisfied smirk. Slowly, Logan and Patton turned to face each other, recognizing the identical expressions they wore. Gaping mouths curved into smiles. Patton leaned in impulsively and kissed Logan on the cheek.

Virgil and Roman both took that as a cue to leave. “For the record, I still win the bet,” Virgil muttered. “I don’t care that it took five times longer than we thought, Pat still technically made the first move.”

Those first few weeks were a haze of hand-holding, furtive kisses that weren’t nearly as subtle as they attempted to be, and countless hours spent curled up with each other and soft, sweet words. Thomas was on vacation, and the lack of obligation gave his logical and moral sides uninterrupted time to bond as a couple and delight in one other’s company. The few days where Logan was needed, he was actually late. But what else could he do, when all he needed to do was turn back towards the couch to see huge brown eyes pleading him to stay and outstretched arms reaching for just one more hug? Logan returned from a one-on-one idea exchange with Roman only to be tackled by his boyfriend in a smattering of cheek kisses and delighted wriggles. Another instance, where he’d helped Virgil tamp down the rabbit holes of his anxious thought, he returned to Patton’s room and was pulled down into the tangle of pillows and blankets where the other man had been dozing. “You’re finally done! Now I get you all to myself again!” he laughed, squeezing Logan tight. Logan melted into Patton’s hold and curled up with him for another cozy night in.

With the end of vacation, there was a real schedule to maintain once more. Logan had more and more obligations to the other sides and to Thomas himself. The calendar had to be updated with deadlines and expected delays, videos needed to be edited for content and clarity, ideas needed to be amended or toned down for feasibility. Logan appreciated having the familiarity of a routine once more, but greatly appreciated those days set aside as date nights with Patton. Those weekly occurrences got time blocked off on the calendar, too.

And yet, despite the regular hum of productivity and the clarity of his feelings towards his new boyfriend, Logan’s clumsiness started to return.

First, the loose paper he hadn’t seen that was left on the stair. He’d stepped on it and slipped, slamming his back against the stairs and skidding down the remaining three to hit the downstairs landing. The thump had been heard throughout the house, but even though Virgil’s room was closer to the head of the stairs, Patton was the first to find him.

“Oh my poor Lo-berry. Here, let me get you some ice!”

“Thank you, Patton dearest.”

He’d had to rest on the couch for the rest of the afternoon, but Patton was there, fetching notes and food and staying at his side, the very picture of attentiveness and devotion.

Less than a week later, the tiles of the shower floor were far too slick. He’d stepped in the wrong spot and fell directly into the bar on the entrance, smashing against his forehead. Voices shouted in alarm outside the bathroom as the other three raced to help. But given the nature of the accident, only Patton had come in, carefully getting him clothed before bringing him downstairs for ice. Logan realized that trying to read or take notes or even look at screens was giving him headaches, so he spent the afternoon and evening tangled up with Patton, napping in turns and listening to rather than watching Disney movies.

Recovery came slower than he would have preferred- Logan was sorely behind schedule now, and needed to dedicate himself to catching back up. If he wasn’t on time, who would be?

With regret he found himself having to postpone date night one week, and then two. He made sure to remind Patton each day of his affection, but with deadlines looming there were fewer recitations of his qualities and more “I love you, see you later”s.

Then, one morning, he walked into the kitchen in his typical pre-coffee fog when he slipped on a puddle of spilled oil. Windmilling, he threw out a hand to break his fall, only to hit the open oven door. The burners weren’t on, but the metal had yet to cool, and Logan fell back in pain. Too nervous to try to stand up amid the oil slick, he was unable to get to the sink to rinse his burn. But through what could only be good luck, Patton had been awake to hear and came racing down the stairs, first-aid kit already in his arms.

“Oh my goodness gracious, my dear Lo, are you alright?”

“Patton, darling, thank you, can you help me up?”

Patton’s face was wreathed in concern as he rinsed the burn and wrapped it in soothing cream. “Maybe you should take the day off, Lolo. This can’t be a promising start.”

“Pat, sweet, I appreciate your concern. But thanks to your excellent nursing skills, I should be able to still get my work done.” He planted a kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead as he stood to head back to his room. “I’m almost caught up, and should be able to do date night tomorrow, okay? You’re my love!”

And he was able to. No disasters arose, and the ache in his arm wasn’t too distracting. He and Patton were able to relax together for hours on end, watching Sherlock and exchanging soft touches and looks. Patton looked happier than he’d been in weeks, and both Roman and Virgil stayed out of the living room to give them space. A tension Logan hadn’t consciously perceived melted away, making the very air feel lighter.

“I love you, Patton. Thank you for all your kind care recently, and your patience.”

“I love you too, my Lolo. I would do anything for you.”

As Logan dove back into the rigorous filming and editing schedule, he resolved to be more cautious. He didn’t want to cause Patton any distress.

His resolution mostly worked. There were some minor scrapes, but nothing serious. Patton, poor dear, was clearly so on edge that he arrived with the first-aid kit practically before Logan even got hurt. He was also very conscientious on Logan’s behalf of how many additional tasks the other sides needed him for.

“Hey Logan, can you look through these new ideas for me? I really think you’ll be impressed by the thought I put into them!”

“Ro, didn’t you just give him a whole stack of ideas on Tuesday? Give him time to catch up, okay?”

“Thank you, Patton - and yes, Roman, I will definitely get to those, but I won’t have time today.”

“L, Thomas needs to fly next week and I’m already freaking out, can we talk it out?”

“Virgil, whatever you-”

“Lo, aren’t you forgetting how packed your day is? I’m sure Virgil will be okay until you make some room, right?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll be kay. No worries, Lo.”

But despite Patton’s help, the tasks piled up. Date nights were getting shifted again, and family dinners, and game nights too. One evening, Logan looked up at the clock only to realize that he was almost an hour late for movie night. He came rushing into the living room where Roman was reenacting his recent fight with the Dragon-Witch, sword in hand. Chuckling at his dramatic posturing, Logan walked over to the couch. Suddenly, his foot caught on something soft and he fell forward. He stepped quickly, trying to catch himself, but the trajectory of his fall brought him within range of Roman’s acting space. Logan’s hand, outstretched to catch himself, hit not solid ground or even Roman himself, but his sword, directly on the blade. Pain seared through Logan’s palm in a bright line as red blood spilled out, staining sword and carpet alike.

There was a moment of shock, then a cacophony of noise. Roman was spilling apologies, that he was so sorry, he thought he’d left enough room, oh my god Logan, are you okay? Please be okay! Virgil was frozen in fear, swearing repeatedly as he trembled, unable to think with blood spilt. Patton was the only one able to act. He pulled off his own sweater - for once, not the cat hoodie Logan had acquired for him - and wrapped Logan’s hand as he whisked him away to the bathroom to wash his wound and bind it up.

Sitting by the sink, Patton carefully sanitized and wrapped Logan’s hand, holding it gently.

“My Lolo, you really need to be more careful, Roman could have taken your whole face off!”

“I apologize if I have worried you, Patton. I appear to be somewhat uncoordinated lately. I haven’t the foggiest why, though. Last time it was because I was so enamored of you, but I am no longer confused by that, so what could it be?”

“Aww, Lo, you’re enamored of me?” Patton said, smiling

“Enamored doesn’t even begin to cover it. You’re my boyfriend, Pat, of course I love you.”

“I’ve been starting to worry, Lo, we’ve spent so little time together recently, with all the videos and schedules and setting up the office…”

“That’s only to be expected when Thomas has such hectic periods. Plus,” he added with a light chuckle, “my apparent inability to avoid accidents for more than a couple days straight means I keep needing your assistance.”

“I know,” Patton said. Something flitted through his eyes, but before Logan could discern its nature, his boyfriend was focused on the wound again, double-checking that the linen bandage was secure.

Logan helped clean away the stains and put Patton’s sweater in the wash before they both retreated to Logan’s room to recover from the excitement and terror of the evening. Lying in the quiet, Patton suddenly spoke up.

“Logan,” he said, seriously. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Patton”

“No, I mean it, Lolo. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Luckily,” Logan said with a reassuring chuckle, “we are both aspects of the same person’s identity. As long as there is Thomas, there is you, and me, and Virge and Ro.”

Patton’s face seemed to darken at the mention of the other sides. “You’ve needed to spend so much time with them lately.”

“Well, yes, they serve essential purposes in Thomas’ lifestyle, as we know. Particularly with all the editing recently, Roman’s needed my help quite a lot.”

“Isn’t it terrible, all that time you’ve spent helping him and today he nearly slices you open?”

“Pat, it was an accident. He didn’t mean any harm,” Logan said. “I’m fine now, thanks to your care.”

Patton relaxed once more, slipping an arm around Logan’s neck. “That’s right. I will always be here for you, to take care of you, to tend you when you’re hurt. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“How could I? All my silly accidents lately. I wish I knew who left that spill on the kitchen floor though, and with the oven open no less. If it was Virgil forgetting to clean up after a late-night snack…”

“Probably was. He probably didn’t even think of what a threat that was to you.”

“Well, not just to me. It would have been dangerous to any of us, I just tend to be the first to come downstairs.”

“I know”

“Pat, you’re always sleeping in, how would you know that?”

“Because I care about you, Lo,” he replied seriously. “More than they do. You know that, right?”

“Well, given our relationship, I suppose that would make sense…”

“No, you need to know, Logan. I care about you so much. I’m always thinking of you.” Patton’s voice had lost its warmth. Logan started to shift away, but the arm around his neck held him in place. He looked into Patton’s eyes to see a fierce light there.

“I never doubted your care, Pat. Never for a moment. And I myself feel the need to apologize.”

“What for, Logan my love?” Patton asked, softening once more.

“I can tell what a toll my work schedule has had on you, especially combined with my strange penchant for accidents,” Logan said, running a hand through Patton’s soft hair. “I’ve noticed how on edge you’ve been when I try to overcommit, and how overly-prepared you’ve been for even the slightest scratch. I appreciate it, dear one, but you don’t need to worry so very much.”

Patton’s hand had loosened around his neck, but had not fully moved away. “I’m glad you’ve noticed. I’ve been putting in a lot of effort for you. All this time you spend away from me, I don’t want you to forget how much I love you.”

“How could I possibly forget, dearest?” Logan said. There was an edge to Patton’s voice that gave him the slightest hint of unease. He rolled his shoulders and shifted closer, holding the other more fully in his arms.

“What else am I to think when you choose time with Roman over me, Lo?” The edge was still there. It should have been a whine to match his words, but it was too cold for that. “When you’re ready to cancel date night again thanks to Virgil’s paranoia? Have my grand gestures not been enough?”

“Grand gestures? I am unsure of what you mean - are you alright?”

“You haven’t even noticed?” Patton’s voice grew harder. “After all the planning I did? It was so precise, I thought you’d be proud of me. All my perfect timing, and careful maneuvering to make sure they only ever affected you? I wouldn’t do this for just anyone, Lolo. Only you. To make sure you take a break once in a while, even if you don’t want to.”

Logan noticed his own nervousness first, then realized the cause. He’d identified the nature of the flint-hard edge to Patton’s voice. It wasn’t a whine. It was a threat.

“Patton, I- what planning? What maneuvering?”

“I wanted to bring back the magic, Lo. From when I first knew you loved him. When I took care you through it all, and you were only mine.”

“When you first- my clumsiness, you mean? It’s just coincidence, Pat, the stress getting to me-”

“Logan!” Patton interrupted, eyes flashing. “How ungrateful can you be? It wasn’t coincidence! That was my planning! You think the oil was just left there, the oven conveniently hot but not scorching? A piece of innocuous paper that no one else slipped on? You didn’t notice that it was my foot you tripped on in the living room?”

Logan stared at Patton, eyes wide in fear. He’d been masterminding Logan’s terrible mishaps? Even tonight, when he could have collided with Roman’s sword with something far more fragile than his hand? He shifted, trying to move away, but Patton’s arms were around him like a vice, holding him in place. His breathing was becoming erratic as he stared into Patton’s eyes. When had the blue becoming so icy? When had the sunshine of his smile turned into pure heat, no longer warming but searing? “Pat- why?” he choked out.

“I’ll always be here for you, my Logan. No matter what.”

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kaiofmotunui · 5 years

Text

Cups & Cakes | TIKAI

Who: @tiaisms & @kaiofmotunui

When: Tuesday, August 13th

Where: Alice’s Eat Me Bakery

What: While on an outing to obtain some sweets, Kai runs into his ex girlfriend at Alice’s, which is great because he has some pressing questions to ask.

Kai had walked into Alice's, grabbing a box of pastries for his movie night with friends in a makeshift attempt to make his summer less painfully dull. After that @ pack party, there was really no opportunity for him to perform, and he hadn't been particularly inspired in his music anyway. So Kai had decided to take some time off from that and just focus on his surroundings. He'd taken up a job at the water park just to have something to do, and on his off days, made plans with Ariana and whoever else. As he waited for his order to be ready, he noticed familiar blonde hair walk into the bakery. He hadn't seen Tia since the not-wedding, and hadn't really spoken to her since they'd both become single at the same time. So, naturally, this was...awkward. That didn't stop him from raising a hand to her and shouting, "Hey! Tw.....ia." He shook his head and closed his eyes, prepared to explain: "I started to say Twinkle and then corrected myself halfway through. I know your name is not Twia."

Tia wasn't really much of an alice's eater. Usually she just liked to make her own things or buy them from Tiana's, but after being stood up by the super dreamy prince Leo, she decided she was far too cute to just go home and instead chose to treat herself with a cupcake while she considered ways to lure Izzie out of her gross little love bubble to go shopping or something with her. Tia was wrapped up in wondering if Izzie would fall for fake tears, when she suddenly heard Kai's voice greeting a...Twia. Tia looked behind her, wondering who the heck Twia was, when Kai quickly corrected himself. Scrunching up her nose in an attempt not to giggle, Tia flipped her hair over her shoulder and walked closer to Kai rather than to where she was supposed to put in her order. "After how many years, I'd be so sad for you if you thought my name was Twia...And for me, if Twinkle wasn't bad enough, Twia is definitely a bazillion times worse."

Kai chuckled, before realizing exactly what she'd said. He quirked a brow. "Twinkle was never bad! It's a great nickname. As a nickname, it ticks all of the boxes -- it goes with the first initial of your name, it's based off of an online username you actually had, and it's cute!" He rambled on, before clearing his throat and realizing he'd been going on defending a nickname that he'd already decided to bury. He crossed his arms in an attempt to remain 'cool' and shrugged. "I didn't know you had a problem with Twinkle, that's all."

Tia rolled her eyes and let out a quiet laugh. "I don't have a problem with Twinkle really. Sometimes it was really cute. But other times it sounds like tinkle. And that's a little less cute." Cupping her hands around the sides of her mouth like a child telling a secret, Tia leaned in and stage whispered, "Tinkle is pee." Before straightening back up and holding her hands together behind her back. "Also that username was Sparkle. Sparkle and twinkle are totally different. "

Kai rolled his eyes, laughing. "I know what tinkle is," he nodded with a grin, wondering if Tia really thought she needed to elaborate on that for him. "How are sparkle and twinkle different?" He furrowed his brow. "Wait, let me guess -- diamonds sparkle and stars twinkle?" he teased. The Alice's employee let him know that his order was ready, and Kai was able to take the box of treats from the counter without breaking eye contact with Tia.

Tia shrugged simply. "You never know what people don't know, okay? Everyone has different words for things!" She defended, at a school with people from all different kinds of cultures and euphemisms, it was hard for her to sometimes keep track of who would know about what things. Tia opened her mouth to explain the difference between sparkle and twinkle but shut it just as fast when Kai answered his own question, exactly the way she would've said it. "That's exactly it!" She said, unable to stop a fond grin from spreading across her cheeks. Instead she broke eye contact with Kai and looked down at the box in his hands. "So, what'd you get? I like, never come here, so I have absolutely no idea what's good."

Kai chuckled, shaking his head. Classic Tia. Somehow, after all they'd gone through, they both managed to not change. Well...not mentally, anyway. He couldn't help but notice the two new additions right in the middle of the girl's one-flatter chest, but obviously it wasn't okay to comment on that so he just answered her question. "I got some cupcakes. I'm hanging out with Ari later and we needed some snackage...But -- " he looked over his shoulder at the empty two-person table behind them. Why was he doing this? Was he stupid? Maybe. "-- there's like six in here. We could spare one if you'd like to...share it with me so you can see if they make good cupcakes." He shrugged as if this was just an innocent suggestion.

Tia knew it was probably not in her or Kai's best interest to take him up on his offer to share a cupcake. After all, they both knew full well that she'd tasted the cupcakes from Alice's before, he'd bought them for her after all. And as far as Tia remembered, they really weren't special enough that she'd actually need to test another one to make up her mind. But Tia wasn't notoriously stupid because of her excellent decision making after all. "If it's not too much trouble, I'd love to share one with you. You have the best taste out of anyone I know, so I'm sure you must've picked out their best ones."

Kai raised his brows as he moved backward into the small steel table and chairs. "Me? The best taste out of anyone? I'm wearing flip flops right now, don't lie," he joked as he opened up the Alice's box. "Alright, we've got some chocolate on chocolate, some funfetti, and some salted caramel. Take your pick." He scooted the box closer to Tia, still getting distracted by her chest and his overwhelming desire to ask about it, but kept mum.

Tia looked down at Kai's flip flops and started to grimace, before holding up one finger as she cut her own reaction off. "Tiana 2.0 is way more chill about style and does not think those are as highkey tacky as I would've a few months ago. So it's not even a lie, ha!" Tia said fake serenely, as she sat down at the table and looked over the cupcakes in the box before pulling one out. "This one is the cutest so I think that means we should do funfetti."

Kai smirked. "Wow. Tiana 2.0 is really a changed woman." He grinned, putting his hands in the pockets of his shorts, trying not to let his gaze soften too much toward her. Even if she had changed as much as she claimed, getting back together would. Not. Be. An. Option. He had to get that out of his dumb little brain. He nodded, glad she'd chosen the funfetti because that was the one he had been eyeing. "Alright, funfetti it is." He lifted it out of the box and took a knife to slice it down the middle. Well..almost. "Well one of these is clearly bigger, so I offer it to you." He held the bigger half out to Tia from across the table.

Tia flipped her hair, dramatically giving herself fake props. "I know right? We stan eeveelution." Tia jokingly bounced in her seat like an overexcited kid as Kai sliced the cupcake mostly in half. Only to make a face as he offered her the bigger half. Even though she had fully been planning on buying one to shove down her face in it's entirety and probably would've picked the big one if given the choice, being offered the biggest half felt totally offensive. So putting on her most polite face, Tia put her hand up blocking the cupcake half. "Bless your heart, Sugar. I couldn't possibly take that one. It is your cupcake and I absolutely insist you get the bigger half."

Kai rolled his eyes with a chuckle. "Fine. Here." He switched the two halves and held the smaller half out to Tia.

Tia giggled smugly at how Kai didn't even begin to argue or even look annoyed, before leaning in to take a bite out of the offered cupcake half in his hand. It probably wasn't how Kai had meant for her to try the cupcake, but like, they were friends, super-platonic-never-gonna-happen-again-totes-caz-buddies type friends, and friends totally ate from each other's hands like a little blonde pony all the time! "Oh my gosh." She sighed happily, rolling her eyes back as if it was the best thing she'd ever tasted, despite the fact that it very much was not, after chewing and swallowing her first bite. "That was so yummy! Wow!"

Kai tried not to let the shock show on his face when Tia just bit the cupcake right there out of his hand. Licking the frosting off of his finger afterward became a very...charged action in his brain because of that. "Well now I've definitely gotta try it after such rave reviews. But it's only fair that I get the princess treatment too." He leaned forward and closed his eyes, letting his jaw drop open for Tia to reciprocate the act. "Aaah," he hummed comically.

Tia instantly regretted her actions as Kai licked the left over icing on his finger. She had no idea if she wanted to lick his finger herself or be the icing, either way it was deeply upsetting to watch. She crossed her legs and tried very hard not to move her face as Kai kept talking like that didn't just happen. Tia rolled her eyes good naturedly and picked up the other half of the cupcake from Kai's side of the table and very delicately shoved the entire half of the cupcake into Kai's mouth. "Here ya go, your majesty!" She laughed, way too pleased with herself as she used her own finger to collect the icing she'd smeared along Kai's top lip before putting it into her own mouth. "What's up with this icing by the way? It's easily the best thing about the cupcake."

Kai , like a dog lapping up peanut butter, chomped down on the whole cupcake half that was way too big for one bite, with attempted grace. He noticed Tia scoop the icing off of his lip and place it on her tongue, and felt his shoulders slump just a little bit with the longing of what they used to have. That used to be such a natural motion -- feeding each other food, laughing over cupcakes...And the worst part was, it was still natural. It just came with guilt now. "Well it's the best part of any cupcake! Though Alice's knows their icing, I'll tell you that much." He sighed, crossing his arms in front of him on the table. "Tia, feel free to slap me square across the face for even daring to bring this up, but it's eating me alive -- what did you do to your..." He vaguely gestured to his own chest, indicating what he was talking about.

Tia: made a face at Kai's statement and shook her head. "Nuh uh, it's totally the cake part. That's why they're called cup cakes and not icing'n'friends or something." She jokingly argued, picking up a napkin to wipe the rest of the icing off of her fingers. Tia had already started thinking up reasons for why she was totally right about the cake being the best part of a cupcake when Kai surprised her by changing the subject to her chest. Glancing down at herself in confusion and then looking back at Kai, Tia chose to play dumb. "To my skin? I got a tan. Duh. All the fun things during summer are outside, so it's kind of hard not to get one."

Kai rolled his eyes before leaning in with a sigh. "If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I don't have to know anything -- I'm just making sure you're alright." He shrugged. Wearing jeans, hooking up with women, and now a boob job that she wasn't admitting to? Maybe this was some kind of liberation or maybe it was a mental breakdown. "You'd tell me if you weren't alright, right?" He shrugged, leaning back.

Tia rolled her eyes right back at Kai and let out a huffy breath. "I feel like, it's pretty obvious what I did to my chest, Aukai. I just don't think I need to fully spell it out in the middle of a bakery." She replied, making sure every single syllable that left her mouth had 'duh' wrapped all over it. But Kai still wondering about her wellbeing was too nice to not warrant a small smile from her. "You know how I am, of course not. I am actually alright though...swearsies. I just wanted a change that didn't involve trying out things I hate."

Kai nodded, surrendering with arms up. "Okay! That's all I needed to hear," he shrugged. When she swore that she was alright he nodded again, closing his box of cupcakes so they wouldn't sit there for hours munching on the treats meant for him and Ariana, because he knew they would. It was too #Tikai of them to just sit in a bakery eating sweets and talking about boob jobs. "Cool. I'm glad you're doing some things for yourself, then. Self-care and all of that." He sighed, knowing their conversation was coming to an end, but deep down knowing he didn't want it to.

Tia took Kai's remembering the rest of his cupcakes as a pretty clear sign that their conversation was coming to a close and brushed imaginary crumbs from her lap. "Same, being super single is like the best thing that ever happened to me. Even being stood up turned out pretty well since we wouldn't have gotten to hang out like this if I was busy with Leo Fitzherbert." Tia said, reaching out to put her hand on top of one of Kai's, the cherry on top of making sure that Kai knew that she was a) still single, b) still dating, c) still hot and cute enough to be asked out by princes (even if they did also stand her up) and most importantly d) still loved spending time with him no matter what. "We should do this again sometime? 'Cept, next time I'll bake and we won't be stealing from your Ariana stash, kay?" Moving her hand away as quickly as she put it on Kai's, Tia stood up to go

Kai raised his brows. She hadn't mentioned being stood up. "You got stood up by Leo Fitzherbert?" He queried, wondering what kind of nerve that tall hairy guy had to stand her up like that. Then he wondered what she was even doing trying to date that asshole in the first place. But before he could ask any more questions, her hand was on top of his and he instinctively cupped it in his own, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. "We totally should. But hey -- " He stood up behind her, box in hand, and gave her a shrug. "-- If any princes ever stand you up again just call me and I'll teach them a lesson. Cause boy, are they missing out," he grinned earnestly.

Tia shrugged. "It happens. Not to me usually, but it's whateves." She said, not exactly interested in dwelling on it for longer than the 5 seconds it took to say so. "I'll totes keep that in mind, but let's be real. This is def the first and last time I'll ever get stood up. But you're too sweet to offer" Tia giggled, bouncing up onto her toes to peck Kai lightly on the cheek before leaving Alice's, the idea of buying her own cupcake completely out of her mind as she scurried off in the direction of Izzie cottage, praying to God her bestie wasn't busy in her super annoying "love bubble".

#( interaction: tia )#( feat: tia )

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