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deakyjoe · 1 year

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Somebody’s Watching Me Part 11

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (“Sarge”, she/her, British, backstory)

Category: slowburn coworkers to friends to lovers with grumpy x sunshine dynamic/idiots in love

Summary: Feelings are finally revealed in the face of mortal danger. Some good, some bad.

Warnings: British terminology/slang, strong language, injury detail, war/death, mask is off and on, angst, canon-typical violence, mentions of stalking, sexual references

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: This took me two weeks to write. For a not very long chapter. Also, I hate it. Enjoy!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

Things became complicated. More so than they already were. The range of emotions you were feeling was making life difficult. You couldn't concentrate. The most simple of tasks were becoming far more complex than they ever should be because your mind was focusing on one particular subject.

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley.

He'd ruined you. Ruined your life. Ruined everything.

It didn't help that he knew it either.

"You still haven't forgiven me yet, have you?" He uttered one evening after you'd spent the last hour or two trying to forget everything that had happened through the simple will of human touch and physical affection.

Your voice was soft when you replied, almost reluctant but not quite. "No."

"Okay." He was beginning to become more accepting of the situation. Maybe finally realising that what he'd done was not just bad. But terrible. Morally awful. No matter his initial intentions.

In short, he was starting to feel guilty. Really guilty. And not just about being caught. But he didn't quite know how to express this to you. And whilst you could see that he was becoming more understanding and could appreciate that, his inability to actually show this to you or even say it meant that forgiveness was not quite ready to be dished out.

You stayed rather quiet around him now, often silent. Never rambling like you used to. He missed the incessant chatter constantly spilling out of your mouth. Sometimes he'd walk into a room with you in it, and you'd be talking to Soap or Gaz, and spouting words like there was no tomorrow. But you hushed yourself as soon as his presence was detected. It was like you were uncomfortable speaking around him now, as if you didn't want him to know more than what was absolutely necessary about you. He knew why and he hated it.

And he didn't miss the way you avoided looking at him whenever he had the mask on. That would've been fine, many people didn't like looking at him with it on as they tended to find it intimidating, but whenever it was off you always made a point of making eye contact. The most burning, piercing eye contact of his life. And he knew why you did it. You were looking at Simon, not Ghost, Simon. He hated that too.

But it prompted another question out of him another day. "You love Simon?"

The question was odd but you understood why it was being asked, your eyes opening blearily as you answered. "Yes."

"Not Ghost?" He pushed.

"You're..." You hesitated and sighed, face scrunching in thought. "You're one in the same to me. Almost. But I fell in love with Simon first."

A startling realisation hit him. "But I don't even know who Simon is."

You mumbled something under your breath and looked at him, his glazed over eyes and forehead slicked with sweat matching yours. "Then maybe figure it out before you ask me for forgiveness."

It was biting, a low blow even, but he knew why you said it. And he thought you had a point. He hated that you had a point. Simon Riley was used to being right, always having the upper hand in situations because most of the time he knew he was correct. This privilege did not extend to you. Why? Because you were always more right than he was. And it was made worse by the fact that you were good. Morally good and just... good in general. Simon knew he couldn't fight you, especially now, because he knew that you were right and good. Meaning the situation was entirely in your hands. All he could do was await forgiveness, if you ever even decided to bless him with it.

So, even though you seemed to be spending countless hours with each other whenever you could spare the time, it felt as if the two of you hadn't really hung out properly in a while and bonded. They were just more stolen moments in his office and sometimes supply cupboards. Nothing with substance. You were trying to keep your distance as much as possible so he could figure himself out, a few weak moments of needed pleasure from him thrown in here and there, and he was trying to keep his distance to allow you the time to calm down from what he'd done whilst he collected his thoughts to grant you a proper apology, taking the random opportunities for closeness when you offered them his way.

The main problem with this though was that neither of you were succeeding in what you were supposed to be doing. Simon wasn't managing to collect his thoughts in any coherent manner in order to extend an apology and you were not calming down after the effects of his weird behaviour. As much as you wanted to forgive him for purely selfish reasons, it just was not as easy as you hoped it would be. Turns out you had more self-respect for yourself than previously estimated.

It was obvious to outside eyes, other than Ghost's, that the turmoil raging inside of you was taking over your mind. Even if you didn’t want it to.

Soap found you one day in the rec room, stretched out across a chair with headphones over your ears and a pout on your lips. "Are you alright, hen? What's with the sad face?"

You'd just managed to hear him over the music and had ripped the headphones from your head and looked up at him with wide eyes. "ABBA are taunting me."

His eyebrows had scrunched in confusion but an amused smirk had curled the corners of his lips. "ABBA?"

"ABBA." You reiterated, slightly more deadpan and serious now.

Soap sat down on the arm of the chair and looked over your shoulder. "What song are you listening to?"

"SOS." You sighed and pouted again, thinking of the lyrics.

"Oh... here, let me just-" He picked up your phone and started scrolling through the playlist.

"If you play Chiquitita I am going to cut your dick off and feed it to you." You snapped, completely sincere with the threat.

He dropped your phone and raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, forget it then."

You groaned and stood from the chair, extending your arms above your head. "I'm sorry. Just in a bad mood recently."

"I have noticed. But it's okay. I know things have been bad with Ghost." Soap watched you walk towards the fridge, pausing for a split second at the mention of your lieutenant. That made him smile slightly.

"He's really fucked me over, y'know?" You called back over your shoulder, ignoring whatever quip he bit back with.

And when you opened the fridge door, you were greeted by a sight that both horrified and amazed you. Stacks and stacks of apple juice. Bottles of it, cartons of it, even cans of it. There was no mistaking that this was Simon's doing. Some strange, little way of apologising and proving something to you. It was unclear in your heart whether it was endearing or irritating. Maybe it was just both.

You exhaled heavily and grabbed one of the bottles, recognising it as somehow being one from the farmers' market. How he'd managed to get it out here, you had no idea. But you guessed he had his ways.

"He's fucking crazy." You turned back to look at Soap who was failing to suppress the grin on his face. "What? What are you smiling about?"

"Gifts. It's a love language."

"Oh, fuck off, MacTavish." You scoffed and threw the bottle at him where he barely managed to catch it. "Do you think I should say something to him?"

"Depends how much you want to make him pay, hen."

"I'll keep quiet about it for now." You decided. It's not like you were taunting Ghost, which is what Soap thought you were doing as a way to torture him, you were just extending the punishment into what you thought was fit. It would be over once you truly belived he'd paid for what he did wrong and had apologised profusely. Honestly, a small part of you wanted to see how far he'd go to achieve forgiveness. To see how much you were really worth to him.

But then he had to go and fuck up that plan by walking into the room just as you were grabbing another bottle of apple juice for yourself.

The two of you stood still on opposite sides of the room, like deer frozen in headlights, with Soap right in the middle ready to be mediator if necessary but mostly just waiting to see how this would play out.

One of the downsides of the mask, that he insisted on wearing, was that you couldn't easily read Simon. There were no visible facial expressions. Only what he gave away with his eyes and the little skin you could see around his eyes. And now he was too far away to see properly. So you had to gauge this on his body language alone. He was stiff and unmoving, that much was clear. But that was typical Ghost.

You raised the apple juice bottle in the air awkwardly. "This was you?"

You knew it was. And he knew you knew. So he only nodded in response.

"Thank you." You pushed out, ignoring Soap's stifled giggles. "This- this is nice of you."

He shrugged. "You're welcome, Sarge."

You'd given up on reprimanding him about the nickname. It wasn't like he planned on giving it up anytime soon no matter how much you told him to stop calling you that. Besides, it seemed like everyone on the base appeared to have at least some fraction of an idea about what was happening between the two of you even if they didn't have the full story. You blamed word of mouth and two gossips whose names would not be mentioned.

Nothing else was said after that. Simon made himself a cup of tea and silently left the room, avoiding you very obviously staring at him as he went.

"I don't know what to do." You confessed to Soap once you were convinced that Ghost was very much out of earshot.

"I don't think he does either." Your Scottish friend added with a head tilt in the direction of where your lieutenant just went.

"I so badly want to forgive him but just... can't. And I don't know how to explain how I'm feeling." You confessed, burying your face into your hands.

"Talk it out with him."

"It might surprise you to hear this, but he's not much of a talker." You snorted, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes so hard that you saw stars.

"Okay, so you talk and he listens. Then he begs for you to take him back. Easy." Soap suggested and poked you in the centre of your forehead to emphasise his point.

As you slapped his hand away with a roll of your eyes, you realised that maybe he had a point. And a good point at that. You could talk. Simon was always saying how much you loved to talk and how you could talk enough for the both of you, able to keep a conversation going without anyone else saying a word. Filling in the blanks and awkward silences was your strong suit. So, yeah. You could talk at him and have him listen until you were done and ready to let him beg for forgiveness. That was doable. So that's what you would do. Now, only to suggest the idea to the man himself...

It only took a couple of days, well actually almost a week, before you mustered up the courage to broach the subject with him. It happened after a briefing for your next mission which you barely paid attention to, as usual, and Ghost appeared very shocked that you were choosing to talk to him as you dragged him into an empty room where he immediately removed his mask.

"I have something to say and I need you to keep quiet until I'm done, okay?" You asked and he nodded simply. "I don't even know why I'm asking. I know you're very good at keeping quiet. It's one of your many skills actually. Anyway..."

Knocking yourself back into your original thought process, you failed to notice the smirk that Simon was sending you over your inability to stay on track and not stray away on tangents. He loved you so much. And all the little things that made you you.

"We need to figure this out because not knowing how I'm feeling about you is killing me. Yes, I'm in love with you but I also hate you right now and I don't know what to do about it. So we need to talk. Properly. You need to explain everything to me completely truthfully and then I'll consider forgiving you. And I need to attempt to express my emotions so you can grasp some understanding of it all. Does that sound fair?" You asked, breathless after rambling for too long.

He nodded again. "It does."

"Great. So stay alive."

He looked perplexed. "What?"

"We're doing it after this mission. I need you alive for this. So stay alive." You waved your hand around as if it were obvious.

"Sarge, I-" He cut himself off when he saw the genuine look of concern on your features.

"I might not pay attention in briefings but even I could tell Price was nervous. Like... like we're not all expected to make it back. More than usual." You paused. "This conversation and my potential forgiveness are incentives to keep you alive."

Simon wanted to kiss you. "Alright."

"And- and I don't want you dead."

Simon could double kiss you. "Got it. Don't want you dead either."

"If you die then I'll have to bring you back just to kill you. So no selfish heroic moves, alright?" You pointed a finger at him, completely serious.

He tried to hide the smile that was threatening to crack his face. He was getting his Sarge back and, as much as you didn't want to allow that to happen, it could not be denied any longer.

"I'm not much of a hero, Sarge. So I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement about this."

You scoffed at him, willing to play into his game. "Maybe that's what you think. But I don't need you sacrificing yourself just because you think you're not worth saving when we've finally decided to talk this all out. I won't let you get out of it that easily."

"Ah, you see right through me." He raised his hands in mock surrender, waving the metaphorical white flag as he gave in to your suggestions. You were right, as usual, afterall. "Okay, fine. No dying and we'll talk afterwards. Or you'll talk and I'll do some listening and maybe a little begging."

"A lot of begging. I want you on your knees demanding forgiveness out of me. I won't settle for any less."

"I've been on my knees for you before." He observed, thinking back on scenarios in your flat when the two of you didn't quite make it to your bedroom. And times when you did. "I'm sure I could do it again."

"Oh, haha. Very funny, Riley." You added sarcastically, knowing exactly what he was remembering. The ideas made heat rush to the surface of your skin. "I'm not joking. I want a genuine conversation."

"I know, Sarge." Simon sighed. "And I'm very willing to give it to you. More than you could possibly know."

That shocked you. "Fine. Good. Great, even. Then... then we'll do that."

"Looking forward to it."

But, of course, he had to break that simple promise.

"Simon!" Your voice echoed around the room, loud but still distant, and he ignored it. He couldn't drag you into this, couldn't risk you too.

In short, he'd been shot. A couple of times actually. And he was on the floor bleeding out and willing to sacrifice himself for the safety of the rest of the team. He was doing exactly what you'd asked him not to. He believed that if he ignored you for long enough then you'd give up and go away, leave him to die in peace with the hope that you would have forgiven him if things had gone differently.

But unfortunately for him you were persistent, he'd argue stubborn, and you weren't giving up until you found him. Which you did quicker than he anticipated. When you stumbled into the room, you were relieved to find him still conscious but curled up against a wall in obvious pain.

"Aw shit, Simon..." You rushed over to him and collapsed by his side, pressing one hand into the wound on his leg and the other hand over the one on his stomach. "What did you do this for?"

"I didn't get shot on purpose." He argued back, knowing exactly what you really meant.

"Simon..." The blood spilling from between your fingers was worrying. "Can you walk?"

"Yes, that's why I'm sitting here." He huffed back, dry humour still intact, and winced when the action made the damaged flesh stretch in an uncomfortable manner. "Listen, Sarge-"

"Nuh uh, not now." You shook your head at him, voice dropping into a warning tone. "We need to get you out of here first."

"And I'm trying to tell you that I don't think that's happening." He wheezed as more blood poured from him and his vision blurred slightly.

"You promised me a conversation and a proper apology, Simon Swayze. Didn't you?"

He smiled at the nickname. "I did. And I'm sorry to be breaking that promise."

"You're not. Because I'm getting you out of here even if I have to carry your six foot four butt out of here myself." You hooked an arm around his torso and used your legs to plant yourself firmly on the floor to drag the two of you up. Somehow, with a great deal of determination and adrenaline, you managed to get the both of you in a standing position where you immediately rested against the wall to gain a proper sense of balance. You couldn't lose him, not now. Not when you were so close to fixing everything.

"You're strong, Sarge." The words were slurred as the blood loss was making Ghost minutely delirious.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Now let's go." Steeling your body for his weight, you pushed off the wall and started forward through the rubble.

He didn't pay much attention to where you were going. It wasn't like he could give much input into whether or not you were going in the correct direction as he was quickly losing comprehension of the situation.

"Sarge...?" He mumbled next to you, head drooping to awkwardly lean against yours.

"Yes...?" You mimicked his tone in the hopes of brightening the situation. But it was going to take a lot more than that to actually succeed in doing so.

"Love... you..."

You let out a sudden laugh, short and snappy. "What a fantastic fucking place for a love confession. So fucking romantic, Lieutenant Riley. Really. You've outdone yourself."

"Sorry."

The apology was mumbled, but genuine. You knew he couldn't help it. Serious blood loss and shock from injuries could really make you say the craziest of things. It just would've been nice if the first proper time he told you he loved you was not where either of you could die at any second.

"It's okay, Simon." You offered back, meaning it truthfully, as you adjusted your grip on him and dragged him along.

You ignored the burn in your own legs from carrying the weight of two and navigated your way through the building. Gunfire echoed in your ears as you weaved your way through the corridors, feeling a pinch or two as maybe a couple of bullets grazed you. But you couldn't focus on that. You could only focus on getting you and Ghost to safety, mostly Ghost. He was more important than you in this scenario, in all scenarios really. At least, he was most important to you no matter what. No matter the fuck ups, no matter the trials and tribulations that he caused and therefore put you both through. As much as you hated to admit it due to what he'd done, you needed to hear him out and let the apologies be accepted as he was important to you. You loved him too fucking much to suddenly lose him now.

And when you cleared the building, and heard someone scream your names, you allowed yourself to collapse to the floor after depositing Simon onto another pair of shoulders and fade into the blackness as blood slowly seeped out from the several bullet wounds you had been blissfully ignoring. He was safe. That’s all that mattered.

A/N: There should only be one more chapter and then the epilogue after this :)

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awkwardbeartrio · 3 months

Note

I loved your imagine! It’s so cute. I love your writing style and the detail you put in. I was wondering if you could write something for the episode “I am Ice Bear.” Like how his S/O would react his drastic personality change, and how he’d react to them. I just thought it’d be a fun concept, but no one else has written it yet. It’s totally okay to ignore this if you’re not interested. 💕

Oh man! I loved this episode. It was such a cool thing to see. I haven't seen anyone else write this particular request either so I am happy to do this! Thank you very much for your patience, hope you enjoy! <3

I AM ICE BEAR SCENARIO.

It was as if suddenly the whole world had come to a complete halt.

"Oh no! Little bro!'' Grizz exclaims as the hard wooden mallet slams to Ice Bear's head. You're quick and exceptionally fast when you squeeze yourself between the worrisome brothers. Your heart thuds in your chest as you try and shake your dearest awake.

"Ice Bear?! Ice Bear please be okay...'' You beg and frown deeply at the sight before you.

A low groan emits from Ice Bear and suddenly, his eyes open.

"Little buddy, hey! Are you okay?'' Grizz slowly asks and Panda bites his lip anxiously.

"Oh gosh, that bump on his head...'' Panda says and your brows furrow trying to make out what Ice Bear was saying as he gained consciousness.

"Oh man! Oh man! That was a big fall, huh? I mean, talk about a total knockout!''

You along with Grizz and Panda stood absolutely slack jawed at the realization that . . . Ice Bear just talked normally. The bear hops up to his feet, a grin plastered on his face.

That was only the beginning.

Ice Bear had completely lost himself within the confines of jerk popularity. The more and more you had tried to do some of the things you used to do, he'd shrug you off and dismiss you.

"Sorry, Y/n. Well, not really. You see, that uhh, whole cooking show business is not my style, yeah? I got too many people digging my vibe and I'm not gonna dull it down.'' He says as pulls out his phone from his pocket.

You scowl at Ice Bear who only raises a brow at you questioningly. Your heart absolutely aches at the outcome of this accident. Tears glazed your eyes.

"So you're telling me that I...dull you down? Is that it?'' You prod slowly and Ice Bear can only chuckle and shrug. His claws click against the screen, making another ridiculous post on his ever growing social media page.

"No. Actually, yeah. Yeah you do. Not gonna say I'm gonna ditch you for cooler babes but. . .that's what exactly I'm gonna do. But hey, if you ever want to hang with the cool peeps and ditch the Food Network channel, you know where to find me.'' Ice Bear turns on his heel to walk away from you.

And your heart sinks and shatters.

You stand there in disbelief and teary eyed when Panda and Grizz come to your aide.

"Don't worry, Y/n. We'll figure out how to get him back.'' Grizz says, determined as he watches Ice Bear ditch all three of you for some pretentious posse.

"Yeah,'' Panda chimes in, "We'll get him back and...and everything will go back to normal. I hope. . . "

Your lip quivers and you can't bring yourself to watch Ice Bear wrap his arm around another girl. It hurts too much and by the time you start to cry, you're far away from where anyone could find you.

It stayed that way until deep within the night.

You hid away within your hurt of missing your beloved Ice Bear. You understood that it was the amnesia that caused such a drastic change but within that change, you lost such a giant piece of yourself. You couldn't even imagine the confusion and loss Ice Bear was going through himself but his words struck you down hard.

You felt like you lost him forever.

Knock Knock Knock!

Your head lifts to the thuds that emit from your front door. You drag yourself off your bed and to the entryway and pull the door open. There stood Ice Bear, almost expressionless with countless gifts stacked behind him. There was no gold chain, no necklace, black shirt or man bun.

Just regular Ice Bear.

"Ice Bear is sorry for causing you heartbreak.''

His monotone voice makes you feel utterly joyous and yet you're still cautious. His brothers stand a bit behind him for moral support and they signal that he's back to normal. Presumably, his hair got cut short again before the arrival. Just how Ice Bear always tends to his haircut.

"Ice Bear you. . . you're okay?'' You sniffle and you're immediately taken aback when his arms wrap around you in a meaningful but gentle hug. Your body is taken over the threshold of the doorway and he holds you close, lifting your feet off the ground.

"Ice Bear loves you and always wants to watch Food Network. Ice Bear thinks you are cool. . . and the only girl for Ice Bear.''

Without hesitation, you envelop Ice Bear in a big hug. A few tears slip down your flushed cheeks.

"I love you too. I'm so glad you're okay.'' You sniffle and when you pull back, he rests his forehead against yours. He hums in thought and then promptly sets you down to showcase all the gifts he had made and or bought to show his apology.

"Ice Bear remembered everything you like.'' He says softly, handing you a basket filled with self care things like lotions, soaps, flowers, chocolates...

"Ice Bear will always remember.''

Your gaze lifts from the basket and then it trails over to the copious gift pile that his brothers had began to haul inside. You kiss his forehead sweetly and hug him once more.

"I know, Icey. I forgive you. Now lets head in and have a sleepover. There's a new episode on the Food Network. It's a brand new casserole recipe.'' You smile and Ice Bear briefly smiles back with a little nod.

"Ice bear would like that very much.''

END

#we bare bears scenarios #we bare bears #we bare bears x reader #we bare bears ice bear #wbb ice bear #wbb x reader #ice bear x reader #ice bear scenario #wbb scenario

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trashasaurusrex · 6 months

Note

re: your mention of ai bullshit earlier, have you tried using glaze and does it work?

I haven't had a chance to use it just yet for my own work, but a friend of mine uses it and it works very well for them!

For now, it's enough to fuck with the pool of art used for training. Sure, they might try to figure something out to go around that, but hey, more time for them to waste!

I'd say give it a try, though. It does a really good job with coating your work and still keeps it looking very much like the original. Other suggestions I have would be to Almost Never upload full resolution art pieces + be as obnoxious as you want about watermarks. Blur your signature slightly on your artwork, give it a rainbow effect. There's plenty ideas out there, but those are what I've been using ^^

There's also this tutorial my friend had made a while back for how to make big watermarks for your pieces: link

Hope this helps!

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quicksilverdrabbles · 10 months

Text

Shattered (1)

Taliesin: Ugh. How far away from the next town are we?

Kaidan: Nowhere close enough to get to shelter before nightfall. Guess we're making camp.

Morana: There's no need for that. We can use my master's old outpost nearby.

Lucien: Your-? Are you sure you're okay with being where your master lived?

Morana: It's fine. It's where I hid out after I destroyed his lab in Morrowind. Not really a... traumatic place for me, if that's what you're thinking.

Xelzaz: Still, I don't know..

Morana: It has a toilet. And bathtub.

Taliesin: I'm in.

Lucien: Let's get on with it.

Inigo: What are we waiting for?

Morana: *thumbs up* It's pretty close by. We'll be there before sundown.

Xelzaz: Your master was an alchemist as well, was he not? Does he have any special recipes or ingredients in this outpost?

Morana: He figured out a way to cultivate Jarrin Root. I've been meaning to go back and restock my supplies.

Xelzaz: Jarrin Root?! How on earth did he manage that??

Morana: I still haven't figured it out yet. He kept the plant in its own self-sufficient terrarium so I don't have to worry about taking care of it, but I've yet to be able to keep a new clipping alive.

Taliesin: How long have you been walking around with the most deadly plant on Tamriel in your pockets???

Morana: Since.. always?

Kaidan: Gods above, it's a wonder Styx hasn't gotten into it.

Morana: Styx is a good girl. And besides, I only actually use it against powerful enemies. Like giants, and now dragons... *sighs, head tilting down and away from them* .. He was a brilliant man, really. Horrible and cruel, but brilliant. He was even looking for a cure for the Afflicted of Peryite. Got pretty close too, until I killed him.

Lucien: Imagine what he could have done, if he had better methods..

Taliesin: I imagine he'd be revered as one of the world's greatest doctors.

Morana: ...

Morana: Watch your step. It's kind of dark inside, and it's a long fall if you trip on the staircase. Don't kill the frostbite spider, he's my pet. Eats all the skeevers that try to get in.

Lucien: That.. is a terrifying image.

Kaidan: It goes underground?

Inigo: Another ancient ruin, I imagine. Your master had an affinity for finding vacant buildings.

Taliesin: Yes, yes, very interesting. Where is this bathing room you say you have? My hair is an absolute birds' nest and must be remedied immediately.

Morana: First door when you enter the main room.

Taliesin: Excellent.

Morana: Everyone else can get comfortable. Yaksha, would you mind checking for injuries?

Yaksha: Of course. If anyone has any unusual pains, let me know, please.

Lucien: Oh, actually I've been getting the strangest throbbing on my leg-

Morana: *sighs, pulling her hood down and adjusting the circlet on her brow, setting her cane against the wall to sit on an armchair nearby*

Kaidan: Oh, getting comfy are we?

Morana: *nods* I figured I may as well, if we're spending the night.

Kaidan: You want dibs on the bath after Taliesin?

Morana: No, you can take it first. I need to sit down and drink some potions. It hurts today.

Kaidan: Oh.. alright. Is there anything I can get you?

Morana: ... Can you ask Xelzaz to make me half a honey-glazed roll, please?

Kaidan: Won't it upset your stomach?

Morana: Not if it's a small portion.

Kaidan: Aye, I'll see to it, then.

Taliesin: *walks out of the bathing room with an edgier than usual frown on his face*

Kaidan: Hm? What's up with you, ya' fucken grump? Morana didn't have your favorite scented soap?

Taliesin: Hmph. Your turn is next, is it not? Why don't you go in there and see what is 'up' with me.

Kaidan: ...? Alright, I'll bite.

Morana: *happily munching on half a honey roll, swinging one leg while her left sits perched on the table nearby*

Xelzaz: Good?

Morana: Mhm..

Kaidan: *walks into the bathing room, stopping in his tracks at what he sees in the corner. A mounted mirror, completely shattered. Shards of glass litter the bottom of the basin, with the pieces still hanging on to the frame cracked and splintered in a pattern like a spiderweb* ... What?

Taliesin: ... Raven?

Morana: Hm?

Taliesin: Can I.. ask you something?

Morana: Mhm. *pats the seat next to her, licking the remaining syrup off her fingers so she can sign properly* What's up?

Taliesin: ... How long has that mirror in the restroom been broken?

Morana: *frowns, shaking her head* It's been broken since I came here.

Taliesin: That's nonsense and you know it. Everything else in this place is in pristine condition. What once may have been broken has probably been fixed, all except that mirror.

Morana: ...

Taliesin: Did you break it? Intentionally, I mean.

Morana: What does it matter?

Taliesin: Answer the question, please.

Morana: You weren't even supposed to see it. It had a cloth over it for a reason.

Taliesin: ... Okay, that one's my fault, I'll admit that much.

Kaidan: *walks out of the bathroom* Hey, Morana? Can I ask you about the-

Morana: Did you tell Kai?!

Taliesin: Yes, okay, I am a horrible person! I was just-!

Morana: What, worried?? Did you think I was hiding something?

Kaidan: What?? No, he was probably just-

Morana: *whips around and glares at Kaidan* Stay out of it!

Kaidan: *raises his hands to his shoulders* Ah. Yeah, you're on your own with that one, Tal-a.

Taliesin: *deadpans* I'm ever so glad for your support, Kaidan.

Morana: Out with it!

Taliesin: Gods- Okay fine, I will admit I was worried. The cloth had fallen halfway off and I saw the broken glass- at first I was going to simply sweep the glass up so nobody hurt themselves, but then I saw the mirror and started thinking about the implications that might have gone with it-

Morana: I broke that mirror ages ago. Long before I met you or Kaidan or anyone. And even disregarding any implications- *her sign becomes more pointed and aggressive* It's none of your business.

Taliesin: If your health might be at risk, I would like to think it is my business! I'll not be parading around acting like nothing is wrong when there is still so much about your past you have not told us! We only know the least of what you've been through and the affects it has had on you! And that doesn't give me any cause to worry??

Morana: It's not just that, Tally, it's the fact that you smother me! You always just assume I need the help instead of asking! You jump in on fights I can handle or speak for me when I don't need you to!

Taliesin: I just want to help you! What's wrong with that?!

Morana: It makes me feel useless! It makes me feel like I can't go two fucking steps without needing to be coddled and I don't! I have bad days, but I've always had bad days, I can handle it! When Kaidan or Lucien or anyone else offers their help, they don't do it because they think I'm weak, but it just feels like you do! And they ask if I need help!

Taliesin: I- You don't-

Morana: And while we're on the subject of trust, Taliesin- *stands, leaning heavily on one leg and thrusting her finger into his chest* The names we share may not be our own, but at least I would tell you my name if I could remember it. I trust you enough for that. Not only do you think I am weak, but you don't think I'm someone worthy of that.

Taliesin: ...

Morana: *turns and snatches her cane, walking past him and pulling aside a curtain, revealing a bedroom before the door behind it slams shut*

Kaidan: ...

Xelzaz: ...

Taliesin: ... Damn it.. *runs a hand through his hair, looking stressed as he leaves the room*

Inigo: *staring at her bedroom door in shock* ... Uh. I could not catch all of that.

Lucien: I'll, uh.. I'll tell you later.

Inigo: .. I am going to go check on her.

#hehehe ✨️angst✨️#stuck in a hotel room all day so I'm just writing a lot lmao #skyrim #tes #the elder scrolls #modded skyrim #dragonborn #ldb oc #kaidan skyrim #lucien flavius #inigo skyrim #skyrim taliesin #yaksha skyrim #Morana oc #I feel like Tally would only swear in super emotional moments #xelzaz skyrim

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austinsgirl · 4 months

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Rather Die | Chapter 20

rating: Pg-13

warnings: pregnancy talk

masterlist

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It is currently Christmas Eve.

Victoria's mom, Evelyn & her stepdad, Peter, both came into Los Angeles to visit and to meet Austin's family as well. Victoria's parents are staying with her & Austin while they are in town.

Currently, both families are together at their place, including Ashton, Mila, & Juliet.

"Wait, how far along are you?" Evelyn asks Victoria as she glazes the ham in the kitchen. Victoria is currently mixing together the potato salad.

"About 5 months. I'm due around Easter." she looks to her mom with a smile.

"Ok, that's what I thought. Just a few more months to go."

"Yeah, I'm excited. About halfway there or so."

"When did you move in with Austin? Not long ago, right?"

"Yeah, I moved in last month like a week before Thanksgiving. I ended up moving in sooner than we planned."

"Why is that?"

"It was just easier, since I was going to be starting the good pregnancy milestones & more doctors visits. Austin doesn't want to miss anything, and I don't want him to either. Also, wanted to get moved in before I was too pregnant and couldn't do anything."

"That makes sense. I'm glad you two have figured things out. I know how rough it was between the two of you at the start."

"I'm glad too."

"And I see he's moved on?"

"Mhm. I think any day now he'll ask her to be his girlfriend."

"I still can't believe what you said to her." Evelyn chuckles.

"Mooomm, please. I know. But it's fine. I apologized, we're good with each other."

"Good. The last thing you need is to be stressing over a new girl he's with."

"Don't worry, I'm not."

Victoria looks over to the living room and sees Austin & Juliet cuddling on the couch, being all cute. She feels lowkey disgusted on the inside, but Ashton comes up behind her & takes her away from those thoughts.

"Hey, baby." Ashton says, wrapping his arms around Vic, placing a kiss on her cheek.

"Hi, honey." she smiles. "I wish you didn't have to leave after dinner."

"I know, me too babe. It's just a lot easier on my family if I go to them rather than them coming here. But my parents want to come out soon to meet you."

"They do?"

"Mhm. We're thinking next month sometime."

"That would be great, Ash." she smiles.

"Is dinner almost ready?"

"Yeah, actually. Hey, Aus?" Vic gets Austin's attention, looking over to him.

"Yeah?" Austin replies.

"Can you get the table set, please?"

"Yeah. Wanna help me set the table?" he asks Juliet.

"Sure." Juliet smiles.

Mila walks into the kitchen, "Hey, is there anything you need help with?"

"Uh, yeah. You can start putting the sides on the table. Mom is finishing up the glaze before she cuts the ham, & Ashley is finishing up the desserts."

"Alright, sounds good." Mila smiles. "Is that a new necklace?" she asks Vic, noticing a sparkly diamond around her neck.

"Yeah, it is." Vic smiles. "Ashton got it for me. We already exchanged gifts."

"It's so pretty, I love it."

"Thank you. I love it too."

Austin overhears their conversation & rolls his eyes. "A diamond necklace?" he thinks to himself. "It's nice, but c'mon. Don't be so basic. At least I got Julie my birthstone so it's more meaningful."

By the time the table was set, dinner was ready. Ham, kielbasa, potato salad, green bean casserole, pierogis, veggies. A whole feast to say the least.

Ashley asks Victoria as they eat, "Any plans for a baby shower? I'd love to help!"

"Oh my gosh um, I haven't even thought about it. I guess we'll have to start planning it." she responds.

"Do you have a theme picked out yet for the nursery?" Victoria's mom asks.

"We're just doing a pretty floral theme with shades of pinks."

"Oh, that'll be so nice! Maybe you can do the shower the same theme."

"That's a good idea." Mila chimes in. "My mom's friend is a florist that could probably help us out."

"Perfect. One step of planning done." Vic says.

"We still have to pick out a name." Austin says.

"You haven't picked out a name yet?" Ashley asks.

"Nope. Have we even talked about it?" Austin asks Victoria.

"To be honest, I don't know. We might have early on."

"We'll have to discuss it later." Austin smiles.

After dinner

"Hey, don't worry about cleaning up. I got it." Juliet says to Vic smiling, as she was gathering up plates.

"Are you sure? You're a guest, I don't want you to feel the need." Victoria responds.

"Yeah, it's fine! Austin & I can handle it, right Aus?"

"Yeah, we got it. You did a lot today, Vic. Go rest." Austin says.

"Alright, alright. Ash? You got time?" Vic smirks a little.

"Yeah, a little bit." Ashton responds.

Victoria & Ashton head off to her bedroom to have a little alone time before he heads off.

As Austin & Juliet clean up, they talk amongst themselves.

"You're still coming over to my parents' house tomorrow, right?" Juliet asks.

"Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just checking. I know you get shy, and I didn't want you to back out because you're too nervous to meet them."

"I mean, I am nervous, but I'll be fine. They want us there at 4, right?"

"Yeah, 4 or earlier."

"Alright, maybe we can head over there early. Get more settled in before dinner."

"Sounds good, Aus." Juliet smiles.

Not too long after....

"I can't believe you're leaving me." Vic pouts as she's saying goodbye to Ashton.

"I know, baby. I'll be back before you know it. I'll call you when I land, okay?"

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you too."

Ashton and Vic share one last kiss before he heads off to the airport.

"I'll see you soon, love." Ashton says

"See you soon." Vic shyly smiles.

Around 1AM, Victoria finds herself watching the 24hr marathon of "A Christmas Story" while shoving Christmas cookies in her mouth, being hungry and not able to sleep.

She hears footsteps coming down the hall, "Austin?" she calls out, but not too loudly.

"It's Santa Claus." Austin says sarcastically, walking into the kitchen. "What are you doing up?" he asks, looking over at her in the living room.

"Baby girl was hangry for cookies & wasn't letting me sleep. Why are you up?"

"I don't know, honestly. Just not tired enough to sleep. Came out here for a snack, sometimes that helps." Austin responds grabbing some milk & cookies for himself. "What are you watching?"

"The 24hr marathon of "A Christmas Story". Peter left the cable on from the football game earlier, so I just put this on."

"It is a classic. I didn't know TBS still did the 24hr marathon." Austin sits on the couch next to her.

"I guess so. Did you grow up watching it?"

"When we had cable, yeah. Or if I was at my grandparents for Christmas. We weren't always able to afford cable."

"Makes sense. New Zealand didn't have TBS, but I think one channel did show "Home Alone" all day or showed all 3, all day long. My brother would keep it on until my mom got tired of it." Vic chuckles.

"That's cool. We mainly watched VHS or DVDs for movies. I think my sister kept them all after my mom passed, or she donated them."

"Is that one of your favorite memories with your mom around the holidays?"

"Yeah, yeah it is. Also making these cookies with her." He holds up a cookie that looks like a candy cane. "She had taught Ashley & I how to make them. Well, not so much the dough, but how to dye the dough and roll it out to make different shapes."

"Did Ashley make these ones? I don't remember seeing you make them."

"Yeah, she did. They're my favorite because they remind me of my mom."

"That's really sweet, Aus." Vic smiles. "They are really good. I'm gonna need this recipe. I'd like to pass down things like that to baby girl."

"Me too. And speaking of baby girl..."

"What?"

"We should probably think of a name."

"We should. Any ideas?"

"Nope."

"Me neither. Let me pull up a baby name list."

"Well actually..."

"Yeah?"

"If it's okay with you, I'd love for her to have my mom's name as her middle name. Whether it's Lori or Lorraine, whichever sounds better."

"Of course we can do that, Aus. As long as our next born has David for his middle name after my dad. IF it were to happen." Vic jokes.

"Deal." Austin chuckles.

"Okay, names that will go with Lori or Lorraine. The number one name on this list is Olivia, which is so pretty but doesn't really sound right."

"Also, people would probably think we named her after my Elvis co-star."

"True. Emma?"

"Eh. Too popular I think."

"Charlotte? Amelia? I like Amelia."

"I do too. Let me start a list. Charlotte is okay."

"Ava wouldn't sound right, Sophia is too close to Sophia Loren, that actress."

"What's next?"

"Isabella. Reminds me of Twilight."

"Her name was Bella though."

"Close enough, Aus."

"What else is there?"

"There's Mia, which we'd probably call her for short of we named her Amelia."

"Mia is short for Amelia?"

"Yeah. Mia's name in "The Princess Diaries" was Amelia, but went by Mia."

"Okay, well I'll put Amelia/Mia on the list. What else?"

"Evelyn, Harper, Luna, Camila, Gianna, Elizabeth. None of these are sticking out to me."

"Let me see." Austin puts her hand out for his phone and starts looking at the list.

"Ella? Scarlett? Aria?" Austin asks.

"Maybe Aria."

"Hazel?"

"No, too "Fault In Our Stars". Maybe when I was fifteen."

"Madison?"

"I have a cousin named Madison."

"Ellie?"

"That's kinda cute."

"Violet?"

"Violet? That's pretty. Violet Lori? No. Violet Lorraine? Hmm.."

"Violet Lorraine. I like that. It flows nice."

"Yeah, it does."

Austin keeps scrolling to see if there's anything else on the list of names.

"Ew. Hell no." he says.

"What?"

"Eliana is on the list."

"Ew. Fuck that bitch."

"I'm really liking Violet."

"Me too. It just seems right."

"Did we just choose name?"

"I think we did." Victoria smiles big.

Austin repositions himself to be near Victoria's belly.

"Hi Violet, Merry Christmas from your daddy." he says, getting teary eyed. "I love you so much, my beautiful girl." Austin places a kiss on her belly.

Victoria tears up as well.

"Hey, Merry Christmas to you too, Vic." Austin smiles at her as he sits back up.

"Merry Christmas to you, Aus."

"Don't tell Juliet this, but I like it better when you call me Aus."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I mean, you started it. It was your thing first, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that. But don't worry, I won't tell her."

"And you do know I'll always love you, right?"

"You will?"

"Mhm. You're the mother of my child, of course I'll always love you in some way. I'll always care about you. I hope you know that."

"I feel the same way about you, Aus."

Vic looks into Austin's blue eyes. She notices his eyes leave hers to look at her lips as they sit close.

Austin leans in for a kiss, Vic doesn't stop him right away, letting him deepen the kiss as he puts his hand on her face. She eventually realizes what's happening & pulls away.

"What are we doing?" she asks him.

"I-I don't know. I got caught up in the moment." Austin responds, blushing, looking down.

"We won't speak of this. This never happened. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. We should go to bed. Big day tomorrow." Vic says getting up & turning off the TV.

"Agreed. Goodnight." Austin says.

"Goodnight, Austin."

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

#austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine #austin butler one shot #austin butler smut

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markersmadness · 1 month

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𝙒𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂: 𝙀𝙈𝙊𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉𝘼𝙇 𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙀𝙎

𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝒏𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒆'𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒕 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒌. 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒆𝒕... 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒏 [𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓]'𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕, 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒃𝒆.

𝐎ne thing I notice new writers tend to think is that a emotional or important scene has to be dangerous. that there has to be risk. but that isn't true. in fact, the opposite can be! scenes where the surroundings don't reflect a character's emotions make them feel real; the rain won't conveniently come for you, so why should it for your character?

Scenes where a character isn't surrounded by pain, perhaps even surrounded by joy can make their misery all the more impactful. Describe the energetic, lovely, happy people around them. How their friends cheer and hold one another, play games and run amok. The bubbly, warmly colored room, the nostalgic and dazzling music. All while your character is breaking apart, their eyes glazed over like newly cut glass.

Using impactful words to show a character in pain makes the reader feel it, too. metaphors to describe their perspective, the hints that they aren't really okay, meshed with descriptive narratives depicting celebration causes such a contrast that it makes a heavy impact.

Of course, there are times where it's better to have the atmosphere match the emotions. this technique only works when used sparingly; having the same scenario, same metaphors makes your writing dull. if you feel like you're running out of writing methods, or that you're repeating your self, be it word choice or characterization or anything really, try writing one shots! think of a different approach to write each time for each one shot, so that you can explore what is best to write in what circumstance.

The world around your character is just as important as the character themself. Yes, it's important to have dimensional characters, and to build on their traits. But it doesn't matter if you're unable to convey it. One of the hardest things to do is to write an interesting story when a character and the world don't "match"; the character isn't motivated, doesn't care, doesn't... feel for their environment. Hence why so many authors and writers try to explain and show how important motivations and goals are for your characters, but then they don't explain it, don't tell you or show you why it is that they need a goal.

It's still possible; it's difficult but it is possible to write a story for a character without a motivation. It's just a very bad starting point for those who are new to writing, or haven't entirely figured their characters or writing style out yet. So don't take it as a "never", take it as " do this only if you really think you can work with it "

I'll make a separate post for a list of metaphors and descriptors I like to use, some are listed here above in the example (bolder) but there are lots more if you're at a loss!

#writing tips #writing prompts #writer #oc tips #character tips #characterization

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jimpluff · 1 month

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Godzilla x Kong: First Impressions

Short review: Delicious fast food kaiju

A little bit longer now (avoiding spoilers and just giving overall impressions, so feel free to read even if you haven't seen yet): No, really, this movie's tickets should literally come with a Happy Meal set and one of the blind crystal mini figures. It is a very specific, deceptively expertly crafted junk food pleasure that I sometimes find hard not to love.

I went in expecting a passable but somewhat embarrassing mess. It was a lot better than that, and I actually think Wingard is something of a genius at walking a particular action/comedy/blockbuster tightrope. So many elements are done just enough to satisfy, not so much as to annoy or ever slow the pacing, just the right amount of comic relief, and a sprinkling of drama that's actually fairly tasteful despite being puddle deep. He's also quite the visionary for thinking up ridiculous moments that pay off enough to make you forgive how outrageous they are. I genuinely laughed several times, a first for a MonsterVerse movie, and there really wasn't a tedious moment.

And the thing that will catch the most flak? The new mantra that will annoy the Godzilla world more than even Can't Bin the Shin? Ackshully, Godzilla x Kong is quite a lot like a Showa film.

A few other statements: +Bernie is the best human character in the Monsterverse, and it's not close. +The humor and the Easter eggs in this movie were both done more deftly than in any other Monsterverse film. Did you all catch the 2014 poster in Bernie's place? Did you catch "Punch punch punch?"

+The music was cool, and I'm happy Wingard really put his '80s electronic, neon light stamp on this movie. His confidence in his own tastes shone on virtually every frame, and even when I didn't share every particular preference, it was just a pleasure to see a filmmaker commit to it, even knowing some would sneer. +I was skeptical about all the monkey business, but it was actually all right, and Skar King was cool enough. Shimo looked fairly impressive, too, and grew on me the more it reminded me of Ray Harryhausen's dragon from The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad. + I'm tempted to make a midwit curve meme with GxK on the dumb and brilliant ends and Godzilla Minus One at the 85-115 curve. But that would be hurtful, so I won't. (for the curve peakers - this is a joke)

Criticisms -The biggest one, which others noted and which was apparent from the trailers, was the cartoonish movement of the kaiju. This was most an issue in the final battle, which would have benefitted from a little more money and time just to make it feel more impactful. But the whole movie is loaded with action and Shit Happening that, drawn out toooooo much more, and it could have felt exhausting like KoTM sometimes did. Again, Wingard has a supernatural sense for how long he can get away with things and played it safe and light. -By now, I'm sure everyone knows about Kong's glove. How he gets it is almost laughably glazed over, but again, Wingard knows we don't really care for a drawn-out explanation and sequence there. The ridiculousness of it and the visual flair with how it's executed makes you throw up your hands and say, yeah, I mean that was dumb as hell but pretty sick, and here comes the next crazy moment. -Less a criticism than an anticipation of the objections to positive reviews, but yes, if this type of movie were all the Godzilla franchise had to offer, I think I would tire of it. But we already had Sukiyabashi Jiro level sushi in Shin Godzilla and Gion Kyoto-level Kaiseki-ryori in Minus One. It's cool to also treat the palate with a McDonald's double cheeseburger, fries, and a classic Coke whose sugary sludge we know is going to lead us to needing a very special false tooth. There are many kinds of pleasures in the world.

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pastryslutsupreme · 1 year

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Yoo your oil paintings look lovely!! 🥺 I've been wanting to start using oils myself but I haven't figured out where to start :,) There's just so many things to consider and get. Could you give me some advice, if it's not too much trouble?

Hi!! Thank you sm! I went to bed and suddenly the paining has OVER 700 NOTES. OH MY GOD. Thank you to any and everyone who has even THOUGHT about the painting in a positive light, I love you forever!!

Anyways, disclaimer bc I’m not formally trained in oils nor am I an art student. this is a hobby for me. I’ve taken a class or two but I’m using YouTube and willpower here.

I think to start, the most basic supplies list could probably be found on YT but I will say one thing; a lot of the videos I found said to get a much bigger range of colors than I think I need when I was starting out. I recommend going for a smaller color range and just focusing on using color theory from there on out to learn how to mix colors. However a supplies list is better to google imo! One thing I will say is that you might want to buy a bigger tube of white bc you go through that quickly. Also, keep in mind that the specific color and paint grade can affect how it works. For the most part it doesn’t matter but for techniques like “glazing” (AKA you create an underpainting and then use thin paint over it like a glaze) the kind of paint you get is important. Also, if you’re going to skimp monetarily on anything, don’t skimp on paint! Save money on brushes or other supplies bc oil painting is an expensive hobby (PSA CLEAN YOUR BRUSHES). All supplies I’ve bought have been from a basic Blick Art’s store.

Secondly, once you’ve got supplies and some practice canvas (I recommend some small sizes like iPad sized ones, and then once you’re more confident working big try something like 11x14. Atm don’t worry about the kind of canvas you get, a cheap cotton canvas is best for beginners). As for paint thinner, try to go for the eco friendly kind that’s made from natural stuff. It will still smell and release fumes but it’s not as toxic and it can usually be disposed of easier. Regular paint thinner like turpentine and mineral spirits CANNOT BE POURED DOWN THE DRAIN! Keep it in a tightly sealed glass jar, google disposal procedures and paint in a well ventilated area or outside to avoid fumes. Always stop painting if you get a headache!). There’s also other fancy supplies like quick glaze (brown goo added to make the paint dry quicker and apply smoother) or stand oil (kind of like roasted linseed oil that’s used to make paint dry slower and increase transparency) but I think you learn to use those later.

Also, for the actual painting part; most of the things I’ve painted have been through sheer willpower and a god awful amount of color theory. I used my basis in drawing for getting proportions right and such, but most of oil paint is color theory. Once again a YouTube vid may be more helpful here than me, but quick tips:

-study the color wheel, it’s important! Keep on one hand when painting.

-adding pure white or black to a paint color can dull it down. A lot of what looks like “black” in a painting is usually just opposing colors mixed to create a very dark color, ex) red and green mixed to create a deep brown.

-certain paints behave differently. Some are more liquidy, some are more potent, and some behave in ways that tbh you just gotta see for yourself. For ex: lots of earth tone colors like some yellows seem drier out of the tube. When mixing colors, sometimes red paint will more quickly overpower your yellow paints, so use less of that red instead! And some paints just behave weirdly, like cadmium red and most yellow paints in my experience. Cadmium red light looks like bright orange, not really red. Yet, when mixing colors and you think adding red will make a color warmer, it offend turns the color a little pink/has slight cool tones. However if you add cadmium red light instead, it tends to get warmer without leaving behind weird pinkish cool tones. This is semantics and will make more sense if you actually just paint but yk. Also, when mixing with yellow paint be aware that it changes colors in weird ways and if any yellow is anywhere on your brush or Pallette, it’s getting like. Everywhere. Fun Fact (in my experience)

-mix your colors with a palette knife if possible.

-Paint with bigger brushes first and paint areas with the biggest brush you can whenever possible. It help reduce streakiness and improve blending.

-sometimes you need to think out your paint with paint thinner but be aware that it will lift whatever paint you have on the bottom if you work it in too much.

-learn different painting techniques like Alla Prima to paint with confidence and to learn to loosen your hand. Lots of oil paintings looks so tight and detailed and nothing looks out of place, but the truth is that perfect blending is often achieved with roughy strokes of color first to establish shadows and highlights first. It’s scary and often seemingly impossible, but try to learn to pick out colors from photos/life and try to paint more loosely. Place the colors where you see them and blend a little later often works best.

-get an apron. It’s messy. Also, while you’re buying supplies get some oil paint cleaning soap (also the eco friendly kind!) and use that on yourself and your brushes to clean up. Oil paint is literally straight pigment and oil so it stains horribly, work accordingly.

-when you mix paint you have to “pull” the colors to be cooler, warmer, darker, or lighter. You usually don’t use out-of-the-tube colors and you have to change them a little. Most of the colors you use in the painting are going to be silently tweaked. This is just something you have to get used to because it’s hard to just tell your brain to see colors as anything but “light brown” instead of “burnt sienna mixed with white, a tinge of purple and some burnt umber”. And trust me, after my first oil painting class I was starting to see colors on the walls and thinking about what paint combos you had to use, it’s freaky

-as always, just try it! All knowledge is relative and in art especially there are a lot of interconnected things. Just try painting for the first time and experiment! My first oil painting was not perfect nor did I like it at first. It was really just a way for me to get used to how the paint worked. Give yourself some time to just learn how the medium behaves

-and if possible, take a class somewhere! Lots of art schools have them although they tend to be painting intensives. I took one as a summer class and although it was a crazy intense experience (and $$$) it was probably the best thing I ever did for myself as a painter. Disclaimer, it was at a well known art school so that def changed the quality, intensity and cost of the experience from most art classes. But still, classes anywhere can help you learn good technique and most of all raw experience. Also, I learned how to grind out paintings like no tomorrow, even if I was painting six or more hours a day. Worth it, but absolutely not necessary. Also, YouTube classes can be just as if not more beneficial sometimes!

I think that oil painting is a super great medium that presents infinite possibilities, despite being finicky and costly. I really love it and I don’t have formal training but I wanted to try it and here we are! I say just go for it if you have the means and the willpower. Also please try to google things and consult more academic resources bc my word isn’t gospel, especially in regards to safety hazards. Still, have fun with it + I’m sure more advice will pop into my head later so I’ll add to the post. For now, try it and have fun :)

#oil painting #painting #painting tips #oil paint #art tips #disclaimer I am not a proffessional

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nighttimescribbles · 2 years

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hi scribssss 🍬 here againnn i apologise if it feels like i'm using as my personal diary but talking with you like this is so much fun, it feels like i haven't heard lengthy conversations like this in a long time if ever and not to mention your energy is just so bright and fun to be in :'))

but i wanted to share a little update. unfortunately i don't think mystery man will be able to have a taste of these carrot cupcakes because i didn't see him at work today and my family absolutely LOVES these cupcakes so i only have two left that probably will be all gone by the time i go back to work in two days time, but all the more reason to make them again right :D but yess ahh the sugar on top of the muffins were just the smartest move !! i don't know if it will be the same with brown sugar but i used raw sugar as the sprinkle so if you try it with brown sugar let me know how it goes because i'm imagining it to give the muffins a naughty glaze over the top 🤭

that memory really is the sweetest memory !! and that blank feeling before a huge news is dropped onto you is one of the best feelings in the world hahah super belated congrats to you and your baby team for winning thay mooting competition !! i used to hear about it in high school where my school had a mooting team but i had no idea what it was supposed to be until now basically but hearing the way you describe it makes me want to watch one now in real time,,, 🤭

absolutely no need to apologise, love! talk away as much as you like. i am more than happy to listen and i enjoy these conversations, too! you cheer me up as much as i (think) i cheer you up! haha

i send BIG APPLAUSE to your muffins! for them to be wiped out by your fam in one? two? days means it must really be stellar!!! fams can be the most brutally honest feedback-ers in the cooking arena, so when you see that they finish the food you make - BOOM you know you got a real blockbuster in your hands! maybe it's also a blessing in disguise that mystery man didn't taste this batch. he'll be getting a fresh(er?) batch and this time around maybe you can try making them with nuts 😁

i love that you mentioned raw sugar because i have never seen them before 😂 brown sugar, i have heard (google said they're the same as turbinado? the latter being a uk term? is this right?) of. muscovado sugar, i know and love. i always assumed muscovado was the rawest sugar could go, but apparently it isn't the same as raw sugar! so i went down the rabbithole tryna figure out what raw sugar is and learned from here. also able to confirm that i DEFINITELY have not seen raw sugar yet in my life 😅 i think maybe i'll use a mix of brown and white? the white may give it the crisp, and the brown a caramel-y glaze when it melts? 🤔 i'll let you know when i find out! hahaha

thank you! it is a heartwarming memory. one i'll keep pinned to my soul forever 💓 you had moot court in high school? you guys so advanced!!! what were your moot topics? high school debate teams, yeah, definitely heard. but moot court - WHOAH! there are yt vids on moot court! the world championships of that tourney our baby team joined are livestreamed and the video saved. i can't find the full championship round for any of the years, but this is pretty much what goes on. two people from each team grilled by a panel and having to defend their "client" like that. you appreciate it so much more if you know the problem (compromis) and understand the law behind it.

aaaaaaa i'm rambling now. haha all this moot court talk has made me miss this kind of extremely detailed, prepared, and high brow appellate advocacy. ❤️‍🩹 thank you for reminding me of it tonight. ❤️

#asks #🍬nonnie #i am so happy to have someone to rattle on to about baking experiments ❤️#lawblr #moot court #appellate advocacy #love of my life

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wolfwarden · 3 years

Text

Whumptober Day 16 - Aftermath

Word count: 3,136 Fandom: Linked Universe Characters: Time, Warriors, Wind Warnings: Referenced Major Character Death -Ao3 link- With permission from the author, this is a direct continuation of @lyrabythelake's amazing, heartrending whumptober fill of "You have to let go"/Bound (Wind & Warriors). If you haven't read it yet, it is well worth your time.

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Time hears the screaming first.

It sets his blood racing and for a moment he’s not sure if it’s someone in distress or a monster’s enraged shriek. His sword is in his hand and he’s already running. The sound continues, vicious and terrifying, and Time desperately hopes it is a monster for no human deserves to sound so broken.

His feet pound the narrow path winding up the mountain, the other heroes close on his heels. Dust and rocks crumble at the edges of his carelessly frantic pace. He rounds the bend and spies a figure hunched over on the ground. It’s rocking back and forth, hands clutched in yellow hair, still rending the air with that endless scream.

It takes him far longer than it should to recognize who it is.

Time stumbles forward, the air stolen from his lungs. There is no scenario, no possible timeline in existence, where finding the captain like this can be anything other than a tragedy.

“Warriors!” Twilight rushes past him and drops to a knee by Warriors’ side. “Where are you hurt?” Twilight’s hands tug at Warriors’ crumpled form, desperately looking for blood. He pulls at Warrior’s tunic and Time realizes the distinctive blue scarf is missing. The lack of it makes Warriors seem diminished, an essential piece of him gone. Time is unnerved by how young Warriors looks, sobbing with total abandon.

Warriors doesn’t react to Twilight, doesn’t seem to even know the rest of them are there. His keening stutters as he gasps for air, his whole form trembling.

Four tries to untwist Warriors fingers from his hair, murmuring gentle words. At Twilight’s bewildered look, Sky and Hyrule scan the surroundings, looking for clues. Sky heads to the cliff edge and begins to peer over the side.

“Don’t!” Warriors yells, voice cracking.

Time and Sky exchange a confused look.

“Why?” Sky asks, head tilted to the side.

Warriors face crumples. He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. His eyes lock onto Time’s, begging for something.

The look is unsettling. It reminds Time of long ago battlefields. Of being smaller than he should be. Of watching a big brother stand alone in the eye of a storm of bodies, blood dripping from a sword he should never have been forced to carry. That red-soaked figure locked his terror away, buried it deep under smiles and smooth words and feet that never stopped moving so the fear could never catch him.

The figure now crumpled before Time is broken, terror and despair spilling out for all to see, and Time feels the same child-like desperation to fix it. Glue the pieces back together and pretend everything was fine in the first place.

“Wars.” Legend’s voice breaks into Time’s spiraling thoughts. Legend approaches Warriors hesitantly, like he sees a horrible truth the rest of them haven’t spotted yet. “Where’s Wind?”

A strangled whine issues from the captain.

Four jolts at the sound. He holds tighter to Warriors’ hands, keeping him from jerking away.

Warriors’ eyes are glazed, staring at nothing, and Time fears they are losing him. He has a trick he knows, though he feels manipulative using it now. But they need answers, and he knows the training Warriors will fall back on when his mind is overwhelmed.

Throwing as much authority into his voice as he can, Time says, “Eyes up, soldier."

Warriors’ eyes snap to Time.

“Good. Now tell me, when was the last time you saw Wind?”

Warriors' face blanches white. Then he throws himself away from Twilight and Four and vomits into the dirt.

Remorse washes over Time, but all he can do is crouch beside Warriors and rub a hand up and down his back. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Warriors continues to gasp and dry-heave, his arms shaking badly. Twilight is a steady presence on his other side, arms already half-supporting Warriors’ weight. Twilight and Time share a look and the former shakes his head. They won’t get anything out of Warriors right now. And it’s cruel to keep trying.

They help him to his feet. Warriors stumbles, barely able to keep himself upright.

It’s Wild’s voice that breaks the unnerved silence from the others. He speaks softly, but insistently, the words drifting to anyone who will listen. “But we need to know what happened.” His eyes dart around the group, nervously pulling at a braid in his hair, one that Wind had done claiming he needed to practice for Aryll. “We have to find Wind.”

Time feels Warriors pull them to a stop. Warriors opens his mouth, but only a whine slips free before his teeth clack shut again. His gaze is caught by the cliffside. Time can’t see anything remarkable there, but Warriors’ breath picks up and he sways between Time and Twilight, tears still sluggishly dripping from his face,

Time leans in, ready to murmur any comforting thing he can think of. -‘Let’s just get you off your feet.’ ‘You need to rest.’ ‘It’ll be okay.’- even though he knows the words of one well-meaning person can never make some hurts ‘okay’. He leans in, but he pauses, words dying on his tongue.

There’s a struggle going on inside the captain’s mind, Time can read it in his face. Warriors teeters, on the precipice of some decision within himself.

A breeze whistles down the cliffside, playfully rustling their hair as it slips down the steep ledge to toy with whatever lies at the bottom.

Warriors takes a deep breath, then speaks. “He’s just over there.”

Twilight frowns. “I don’t understand.”

Then Time sees it: Warriors eyes, haunted and bloodshot, flicking to his own shaking hands then back to the edge of the cliff.

Gut-wrenching realization slams into Time. “No.”

Legend steps closer, voice sharp, “Old Man? What-”

Time grabs Legend and hauls him close, shoving Warriors’ arm into Legend’s chest. “Hold him!”

“Hey!”

There’s no time to think. Too many seconds have been wasted already. Time sprints to the edge, hands already searching in his pouch.

There’s a blur of words and noises behind him. Questions he has no time to answer. Fear he has no time at assuage. His own blinding panic demands all his attention. Please, no. Let me be wrong.

Heart pounding, Time looks down to the base of the canyon, searching for horrors. He imagines a small broken body, blood haloing the rocks, a face forever etched in fear.

It’s none of those. Just a distant smear of color. Two shades of blue against the tan rocks below. If Wind fell from this height, there is no use to even hope.

Time wastes no seconds wishing for a miracle. He’s burned away too many already. Cool ceramic presses against his lips, his fingers snapping into place like a key fitting into a lock.

Time plays his ocarina, and the world blurs into a hurricane of smeared colors and garbled sounds.

The magic swirls inside him, feeding off his energy in a greedy pull that makes him lightheaded. It has been a long time since he’s possessed the ability to rewind three days worth of time. The power of the ocarina has faded; whatever Deity that touched the instrument has long since abandoned it, leaving the device to pull magic from the player himself.

Time knows he only has the strength for a scant few minutes. A handful of seconds to make a change. His fingers tremble on the last note of the Song of Time, and the world snaps back into focus.

The other boys surround him, keeping to their leisurely pace as they search for a safe path to reunite with the sailor and the captain.

“They shouldn’t be too far apart from us now.” Hyrule’s voice. The words are familiar in Time’s mind.

“No,” Time snaps, “No, it’s not far enough!” He breaks into a run, dropping his heavy sword. The others yell in surprise behind him. This isn’t far enough back in time! The seconds tick by in his brain, an inevitable countdown to a grisly conclusion.

Sweat trickles down his back as he rushes up the path he once walked in another time. Just hold on. He rushes higher. Wait for me. He pushes harder, lungs burning.

Time hears a voice before he rounds the next bend.

“I can’t hold on.” It's Warriors, voice high and strained.

Time flings himself around the corner, feet skidding on loose pebbles. He wastes a precious second orienting himself. A figure in green lies splayed over the edge of the cliffside ahead, arms straining.

“It’s okay.”

That’s Wind’s voice! He can't see the little hero but Time’s legs still go weak with relief. He’s not too late.

“It’s okay,” Wind calls softly, “you can let go. I forgive you.”

Warriors sucks in a ragged breath then lets his face go blank. Horror shoots through Time as Warriors’ hands pull up from the cliff, empty.

“No!” Time’s yell draws Warriors’ attention. They stare at one another, horrified anguish meeting numb shock for the span of one thudding heartbeat. Time knows it won’t last. He knows what is coming. He closes his eyes and braces himself for the breaking.

Time hears the screaming first.

It all plays out before him like a sick performance. The others arrive. They ask the same questions. When Legend asks, “Where’s Wind?” Time flinches but will not respond. He knows this song and dance and he refuses to take part.

He is counting down the seconds, gathering his strength until the moment he can try again.

Five seconds. He opens his eyes. Legend is the one by Warriors’ side this time, trying to catch his gaze. “Don’t,” Time hears Legend’s strained voice, “Don’t do that. I know that look.”

Two seconds. The ocarina is at his lips.

“Time?” It’s Twilight. Looking too young and too scared to be in charge of holding everyone together.

Time ignores him, ignores everything but the reservoir of magic sparking in his gut. There’s so little left.

Music bursts forth, hooking into him and pulling until he’s back in the nauseating hurricane, the seconds rewinding at a dizzying pace.

The world abruptly crashes back into place, the magic hitting that invisible barrier that won’t let him travel any further than this moment. He’s on the canyon path. The other boys are around him, chatting easily.

“They shouldn’t be too far apart from us now,” Hyrule says.

The words are like a gunshot in Time’s ears, a signal to run. He does, head pounding, the magic drain sending an ache through his bones with every heavy footfall.

This time he knows what he’s looking for. Time runs, reaching the end of the path and skidding around the corner, heaving for breath.

“I can’t hold on,” Warriors’ voice chokes out.

Wind answers shakily, “It’s okay.”

Time launches himself forward, scrabbling over rocks like a madman. “Wait! Wind, wait!”

“It’s-”

His hands plunge over the edge and twist into royal blue fabric. He clutches tight. Warriors, shoulder pressed against his, lets out a sobbing gasp of relief.

Wind looks up at them both, dangling from an arm awkwardly twisted in the scarf, but blessedly truly alive. Hope blooms across his features. “Time?!”

Time grins, adrenaline still pumping through him. “I’ve got you!” The countdown in his head stutters to a stop. I made it.

Time pulls and a ripping sound fills the air.

Wind yelps, the blue fabric above his shoulder torn halfway across, fraying against the jagged rocks.

Warriors shouts, “No! Don’t move!”

The tear widens, seams popping free with agonizing slowness.

Time doesn’t like the look on Wind’s face. It’s painted with a horrible understanding. Fear is wiped away in the face of sadness and regret.

“Wars,” Wind whispers, “It’s okay.”

“Wait!” Warriors’ voice is pitched high with panic, almost unrecognizable. “I promise I’ll get you out! Just-”

Wind closes his eyes. “I forgive you.”

The scarf rips in two, and the tension on Time’s arms is gone.

Sound is muffled. He can’t feel Warriors beside him, can’t think, can’t breathe. He just watches, detached, as Wind is reduced to a point of blue, falling too fast and yet too slow until it just-

Stops.

He floats in disbelief for five awful seconds.

Time hears the screaming first. But this is the third time it rips into his soul.

The countdown in his head stutters to life again, but he doesn’t know if he has the energy to make another trip back. Exhaustion drags at him, willing him to lie down and accept defeat. He can’t change anything. He’s just too slow.

Warriors breaks beside him, and the wrongness of that claws into Time’s skin. It wasn’t supposed to happen. Not again. The sound of worried voices breaks over him like a wave. The others have arrived, just as useless and helpless as himself.

“Time?”

A brightly colored tunic hovers before him. Four’s hands twist in the embroidered edges, a nervous habit that Warriors had pointed out but Four has yet to abandon. “Wars needs help.”

He tried to help. He was fast enough and it still didn’t matter.

“Tell me what I should do,” Four says.

He doesn’t have the strength, and what he does have will surely be stolen from him.

“Time?” Four’s gaze, normally so sharp and perceptive, looks frightened. “...Will you do nothing?”

Time’s hands tremor over the ocarina. It will bring nothing but failure. Just another goodbye, another scream, another broken hero left behind to serve an unfeeling deity.

But he knows he will try anyway. He must try. Anger flares deep in his gut. If he only has dregs of strength left to fuel the magic, he will make it be enough.

Time stands. Five seconds.

He can’t bring himself to touch Warriors; to offer any sort of comfort would be to acknowledge Wind is... to acknowledge what happened. And it didn’t- even though it already has- but he won’t let it. Two seconds.

He drags the ocarina to his lips. His limbs feel sluggish already. Will he even have the strength to run here in time, much less make a difference?

Time pushes the question away and plays. The melody spins around him, siphoning the last of his magic from his bones, squeezing it out of his soul. His breath rattles in and out of his chest as he plays the final note.

He hits the ground hard, weakness fluttering around him like a poe.

“-dn’t be too far apart from us now,” Hyrule says.

Those are the words. That’s the cue! He needs to run! Time lurches to his feet and immediately crashes back down, dizziness pricking at his vision. No!

“Whoa!” Sky is perched above him, offering a hand. “Are you al-”

Time grabs the hand and pulls hard. Once he’s up the dizziness passes. But it’s too late. He’s wasted so much time.

It’s agony to run, every step pulling at him like chu jelly has lined the path. Seconds tick by and he tastes failure on his tongue. Wind, I’m sorry.

Wind’s last words echo in his mind. Words he will say in mere moments. “I forgive you.”

No, his thoughts growl back. Wind is a child still. They are all still so young.

Time runs, feeling like a helpless child himself, one desperately playing catch-up to a world that won’t wait for him.

He sees the corner up ahead. The final turn. He rushes onward, knowing it’s pointless. He’s felt the bitter sting of failure often enough to know how this will end.

And once again, he hears it.

“It’s okay.”

He doesn’t have the breath to call out.

“It’s okay, you can let go.”

But Time can’t. He leaps toward the cliff edge, hand plunging into his pouch, unwilling to let go of the childish hope that his family could stay together a little longer.

His hand closes around a trusty metal handle.

“I forgive you.”

There’s no time to aim. Time thrusts his arm out and fires.

The tension on the scarf releases. A rattle of chain on metal fills the air.

Wind falls, then screams as the bite of a hookshot plunges deep into his shoulder. His body smacks into the cliff wall and he writhes there for a heartbeat.

Time plants his feet, grips hard on the handle of his hookshot, and retracts the chain. His arms shake from the weight and he tips precariously toward the edge. A second pair of hands clap over his own. Warriors is a rock, and with his help the two of them are unyielding.

Wind’s tousled blond hair appears over the edge and Warriors hauls him onto solid ground. In seconds, Warriors has Wind wrapped in his arms. The younger boy clings right back, good arm slung around Warriors’ neck, uncaring about his injuries. Time sinks to the ground beside them, relief singing through him.

Warriors is red from fighting back tears. He gasps out, “I thought...I thought…” Tears flood his eyes and he ducks his face into Wind’s hair.

Time reaches out squeezes Warriors’ shoulder. “Shhh. None of that.”

“But I-” Warriors’ words cut off in a whimper, a startling sound that Time would like to never hear again. Wind’s arm tightens, his hand clutching into Warriros’ green tunic.

“It didn’t happen,” Time says.

Warriors holds out a shaking hand, blue scarf slipping over his palm. “I know what I did,” he whispers.

Time lurches forward and grabs them both. He pulls them into his chest, both boys tucked under his arms. “It. Didn’t. Happen,” he growls.

Warriors’ voice is muffled, still pressed against Wind, “I could never forgive myself.”

“Don’t,” Wind cuts in. “Please don’t say that.”

Time holds on tighter, lightly rocking them all, each one of them clinging to the others. He doesn’t care how it looks, doesn’t give one second’s thought to the teasing he might endure. Right now he just holds tight to his boys while the others finally spill onto the scene.

He can feel Wind, chest rising steadily against him. He can feel Warriors, tears already drying as Wind wipes them away with a watery laugh.

Later, under the blanket of night, Time will lower his drained and aching body to his bedroll. He will count the shapes around the fire, stopping only when he catches himself cycling through for a third time. He will whisper only for himself to hear, “It didn’t happen. It didn't happen. It didn't happen.”

‘It’ only exists as a dream, a nightmare. It lives in some alternate reality where a kingdom is wreathed in darkness; where a moon falls to the earth; where, at the bottom of a forgotten ravine, there lies a distant smear of color.

Two shades of blue against the rocks.

...

(The flow of time takes many paths. Would you like to glimpse another one?)

#whumptober2021 #no.16 #Aftermath #Linked Universe #fic #lu Time #lu Warriors #lu Wind #WolfWarden Writes #Whump #major character death

75 notes · View notes

bored-storyteller · 3 years

Text

@severnrose honey, I shouldn't have preferences but how could I wait to write for you and Xiao?

Dear Xiao, sweet Xiao, thank you for asking, I have good reasons to love you :3

60- Genshin Impact, Xiao x Reader (angst/comfort)

From the prompt list

17- "Am I the reason you cry every night?"

33- "Do you know how it feels to wish for death every day?"

For Xiao you are like a little sparrow, so fragile and so free at the same time. He never understood what bad star forced you to meet with him, it was something so unlikely that it might have seemed ironic, but still he never tried to put you in a cage. You didn't deserve it. Sure, you're an absurd being, sometimes annoying, sometimes inconsistent and stupid, but you're also something he never bothered to find, a free kindness and a relief he always knew he didn't deserve.

So he never wanted to condemn you to a relationship with someone like him.

For this reason, when the darkness inside him had become heavier, when he realized he had gone too far, he pushed your worried eyes away from him. It was his job to protect you too, and he hadn't noticed the wound he had inflicted on you.

He is never too kind with words, he doesn't talk much and when he does he is never able to sweeten his sentences. It has always gone well with you.

Yet this time something was different; maybe he had been worse without realizing it, or maybe you were more fragile than usual, but he immediately opened a cruel door in front of you and a wave of awareness hit you. Yes, you were nothing but a burden to him.

Xiao hadn't seen you since that day. Or rather, he had happened to see you around, as always, doing your chores, helping where there was need, but he had no longer had the opportunity to be with you, alone, as you used to do from time to time, maybe in the evening, under the stars.

Initially he hadn't done anything, he hadn't thought of anything either. You were simply too busy, as he was, on the other hand.

But one night, about to give way to the morning, while he was checking his wounds, your sobs had come to him, and so did the next night, and the one after that.

He found himself listening to your silent cry every night, and he watched over you, albeit from a distance. And when he reluctantly had to walk away, he cursed anyone who caused you that unspoken suffering. If only you wanted to tell him he would be ready to protect you, again. But again, you were a fragile, free little bird, and he wasn't enough for you, he wasn't enough to take the pain away from your heart. Someday in the near future that would pass, everything passes for mortals, and maybe he could see you smiling again under the stars. This was what he believed - or hoped for.

But in one of those dark moments, your call rang in his ears and vibrated in his bowels. Wherever he was, he recognized his name spoken by you, in the agony of your nights.

He had joined you immediately, he had immediately appeared there, standing at your bedside.

Your name had escaped his lips perhaps too quickly, and for a few seconds he waited for an answer that never came. In its place, your sobs continued soft and distressed, your body curled up under the pale sheets.

He should have sensed right away, that yours was just a moan in your sleep, but somehow it had been necessary for him to chase the chance to see you again. How long had he not seen you?

Your suffering face made his heart tremble; he would have devoured your nightmares if you asked him.

He again spoke your name, his hand shaking you slightly, trying to tear you out of your dream.

Your reaction had been more violent than he expected and had broken the composure of the Adeptus for a moment, making him move backwards, taken by surprise. However, he thought it was normal, given the sudden awakening.

"Xiao!" His name had been uttered by your voice in amazement, but it was soon abandoned as you took your eyes off his figure "What are you doing here?"

The delicate face of the millennial Yaksha frowned in perplexity. Even now that he was there in front of you, did you persist in hiding your torments from him?

"You called me." His response was swift and straightforward, as always.

"I'm sorry ... I didn't mean to, I'm really sorry." Your apologies were fragile and uncertain.

Xiao let out a slight sigh, while his dark lashes lowered to the precious gold irises.

"Why don't you tell me?" The question he asked you later was unexpected, and for a moment you shivered at the authority of his voice, but he didn't realize "What happened?"

"Nothing." You cut it short and it irritated him. You knew how to be so stubborn when you wanted to.

"I hear your sobs every night."

He didn't want to utter those words as an accusation, maybe he hadn't even done it, but suddenly you stiffened and bowed your head even more, guilty.

"I'm sorry…!" Now your voice was broken and desperate, and a doubt began to creep into Xiao's mind as slimy as a snake.

How long haven't you called him? Why weren't you looking at him? Why weren't you smiling at him anymore?

"Who ... has anyone hurt you?" Now it was he who had lost confidence in his voice.

"Nobody ... really." You had obviously made an effort to stay calm, and somehow reassure him. But even though he didn't really understand human emotions, even though he was a different and detached creature, he could sense you.

"It's me…?" He couldn't explain why, but he felt like he was hurting himself "Am I the reason you cry every night?"

Your silence was a new pain for him. You didn't dare look at him, because it was hard for you to admit how much his distance and his disappointment had upset you.

But behind his sweet stoic face he prayed to have your eyes on him, he prayed for you to remove that horrible, strange feeling that made its way inside him, at least until he was forced to turn his back on you.

Xiao is used to pain and suffering, but that time something had changed. It was something new, something he never wanted to try.

A fist clung to his chest, and he trembled. How long had his hands no longer been shaking?

He thought he was about to give in, he believed that finally his heart would break under the weight of the new, umpteenth, fault of him.

He felt the physical need to vent that sudden wave of suffering that had hit him. He wanted to cry, but Xiao didn't know what it meant to cry, so he didn't, and he just vanished, not even looking at you.

It was the only thing he could do to protect you, right? If he was the cause of your suffering, then he would no longer exist for you. It didn't matter what he did, he didn't even ask himself, he just knew he hurt you. After all, he must already know that this was his destiny.

...

You never called him again, and Xiao never showed up again. Yet, although he endured this condition with the same resignation with which he endured every painful task of him, he realized that the selfish desire he had for you had not ceased. He didn't know how to call it by name, he just knew that it was really selfish, on his part, to expect that a little bird like you at least a little bit remained attached to him.

However, even if you despised him, even if he could no longer hear your voice or your laugh even though you were still breathing, somehow at least he hoped to remain present in your memory.

So every morning a flower was placed on your window sill. He never brought you the same type of flower two consecutive days. He didn't admit it to himself, but he wanted at least in one corner of your mind the whole Liyue to remind you of him. The scent of its flora, its colors and the sweetness of it, he hoped that even if you didn't want those things would make you think of that cruel guardian. Not that Xiao dared compare himself to flowers, no, but certainly those flowers could be compared to you for him.

The Adeptus wasn't good with words, but he was capable of meaningful and powerful gestures - it was something you loved about him.

You didn't need to know that those flowers came from him - even if it was unlikely they were someone else's gifts - and he relied on your kindness to accept them with a smile.

For a while it had worked. Even though he could no longer see you and have you around, that little contact you maintained had given him a sense of peace. In evil it was that little drop of good that gave him the relief he needed.

But he couldn't deserve that either.

One morning, when the first rays of the sun began to paint the earth with the warm colors of dawn, he came to your window. The Glaze Lily he had plucked for you had remained clasped in his hands as his eyes painfully gazed upon the Qingxin he had given you the previous day, left to itself on the windowsill, away from your care.

It was so, even the thought of him you could no longer bear.

The flowers stopped coming and Xiao stopped hoping. He only prayed that Rex Lapis would see your sweetness and cherish it with love, without needing you to endure the protection of a cursed Adeptus.

...

Xiao wanted to see you again, but certainly not right now.

The first thing his mind thought was nothing, then immediately afterwards he wondered which Archon had to thank for not killing you during his battle, and then all that was important was that you were standing in front of him, and looking at him, even if from a distance.

His mask frees his face as soon as his eyes settle on you. How long had he not seen you? For a moment the pain disappears, a wonderful, ephemeral second of peace. And then again the weight of darkness falls upon him.

He should run away, run away from your sight, but like under a spell he is stuck in his place, and you still don't run away.

You are pale and scared, your eyes full of tears. How much have you seen? How long have you been there?

It doesn't matter if the blood that covers him is that of his enemies, of those who want to harm those like you, all that matters is how Xiao now appears before you: a figure disfigured by the red of shattered life, a devouring demon .

He should go, but you call him.

"Xiao ..." His name in your voice is a desperate breath as it is sweet, and you run to meet him in your anguish.

He can't look at you, not when he's like that. He looks at the ground covered in repulsive liquids, without having the courage to meet your judgment. He would have liked to see you again, but now he is ashamed of who he is, he is ashamed of being Alatus, of being the Conqueror of Demons and the Eater of Dreams, he is ashamed of being Xiao before your pure eyes.

Now you are a few steps away, he hears you, but you are afraid to approach. He wonders why you ever even wanted to come close to him again, was it your good heart that pushed you to do it?

"Do you know how it feels to wish for death every day?" He did not want to ask that question, yet he posed it in front of you limpid and clear, as his "no" always are.

If he could die he would no longer distress you, nor would he hurt you, nor would he make you cry. If he could die, all aeons of unspoken pain would disappear. If he couldn't exist, everything would be better. But he can't, he has to live.

"If we are such a heavy burden to you why do you continue to protect us?" Yours is not a nasty question asked, it is rather a sweet worry distorted by insecurity.

His golden eyes return to immerse themselves in yours by instinct, without really wanting to.

"It's my duty, it's my ..." Xiao realizes he can't speak "But you're not ..." he tries again, but he can't.

He can't explain that knot blocking his throat and voice, which he can't spit or swallow.

It is my duty, my contract. But you are not a burden, you will never be.

His eyelids drop again and his head bows in chagrin. You are everything in front of him, and he is nothing in front of you.

"Don't look at me ..." is all he can tell you "You don't have to see me like that."

He was convinced that you didn't want to see him anymore, he was convinced that you wanted to forget him, but then why did your trembling hands rest so lovingly on his face?

"You are so beautiful Xiao." Your broken voice was asking him desperately to believe you, and he in front of your face now so close to him has no way to escape.

The misunderstandings between you two, the pain and the fear, no longer mattered.

Your arms gently encircle his chest and your head rests on his shoulder, without asking for permission, but he won't be the one to walk away, not now that he's found you.

"I'll get you dirty." He murmurs.

"It does not matter." You answer him softly.

You have no respect for the ways of the Adepti, but that is precisely why he needs you.

"Please be happy to live, Xiao."

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin xiao #xiao x reader #xiao genshin impact #Xiao #genshin angst #angst/comfort #angst #genshin request #genshin oneshot

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bruhlsbees · 3 years

Text

paradox burning ; 3/5 || ernst schmidt x fem!reader

gif credit to @/guillermodltoro

summary: the domino effect begins, schmidt and reader are thrown into hot water, mundy's arms shows up at the worst time

pairing: ernst schmidt x fem!reader

word count: 7,502

warnings: major character death (no not reader or ernst), spoilers for the cloverfield paradox, semi-public sex, orgasm denial, dick riding, yeah yeah y'all know what this shit about to be, minors dni, 18+, nsfw

a/n: we are almost done with the series!!!! figured i'd throw in a good smut scene before the angst of the ending - if you haven't heard already there will be a sequel to this (and yes it will be around 13 chapters) hope you enjoy!!!

translations (god i hope these are right):

Желим те - I want you, Волим те - I love you

Watching the clock, you waited until the hour hand clicked in place, the new hour beginning. You had been waiting in your room now for an hour, calming down before deciding that enough was enough and you had work to do. You wouldn’t be sitting in your room for the rest of your time aboard the station. Damn the Commander and damn anyone who thought differently.

Standing up from your bed, you didn’t bother with putting your suit back on as you made your way out of your room, down the hall, and back towards the medbay. Inside was Acosta who seemed to be taking a break from the woman in the wall and working on inventory. You walked in the room, watching as he looked up from his clipboard and towards you, his expression falling.

“Hey, you know the-”

“Acosta, please...I’m fine,” You shrugged and made your way over to the gloves, pulling a pair out before putting them on, “I did what the Commander told me to do and cooled off, I’m not just going to sit in my room forever.”

Acosta didn’t want to be the one to admit it, but he agreed with the Commander. Your mental state was failing the longer you were on board the Cloverfield Station - at this point it was only a guessing game as to when you would snap like Volkov or Schmidt. But Acosta cared for you, looked at you as if you were family, he was worried, but he knew how to talk with you about it.

“Yes, you cooled off...but how are you feeling still?” You opened your mouth to speak before catching Acosta turn and look over his shoulder, “Don’t lie to me, I am a doctor after all.”

You smiled at his joke, rolling your eyes before you sat up on the examination table, shrugging your shoulders. “Honestly? Not great.” Nodding, Acosta turned now and made his way to the examination table you were sitting on, leaning against it beside you.

“I know...you know, when I was looking over files to see who would be a good fit for the medical bay with me, you were always my top choice,” The confession surprised you, your gaze looking over at him as he smiled and nodded, “It’s true...I was always impressed with your work. When the Commander told me about your psychological evaluation and your low score, I didn’t care. You’re a great nurse and that’s what I care about.”

You could feel your eyes watering, but you didn’t care if Acosta saw you cry - it was Acosta after all. The words of encouragement were ones you had heard before, but coming from him, someone who had mentored you the past two years, it meant more than anything.

“We all have our faults, that doesn’t make us bad...what makes us bad is living by those faults and letting that define you.” Feeling his hand on your shoulder, you leaned into his touch before falling into a hug, wrapping your arms around his middle as he did the same to you, holding you close.

He smelled of warmth, bay rum, a father’s embrace. Acosta reminded you deeply of your own father - caring, quiet, and yet at the same time so full of knowledge that his mind alone could make up for the lack of his own words. He knew what to say and when to say it.

Pulling away, your hands rested on his back while you stared at him, smiling before closing your eyes as he leaned it, pressing a gentle kiss to your hairline. “Don’t let the bad thoughts take away from all that you’ve achieved. You’ve done so much just to let your own mind take that away from you.”

Nodding, you brought your knuckles to your eyes and swiped away the tears, letting out a sigh as your mind lulled, your brain desperately trying to focus on what Acosta was saying.

Think of the good stuff, think of what is true.

Looking up, the corners of your mouth twitched as you stared at Acosta. You nodded once, thanking him before watching him pat your knee and get up to go and continue on with his work. You kept your seat on the examination table before getting up to join Acosta in taking marks on inventory.

As you went to open the cabinet that had the medicine for common colds, the doors to the med bay whooshed open, Schmidt and Tam stumbling in with Volkov in their arms. Setting the clipboard down, you rushed over to the examination table that Volkov was now on.

“How long has he been like this?” Acosta asked, pulling out his small light to look over Volkov’s eyes, “What happened?”

“He tried to kill us!” Schmidt rushed, catching his breath as he stood at the end of the examination table beside Tam, motioning towards Volkov as he stayed unconscious on the table. It was the Commander, who must have followed them in, that spoke up next.

“Tam? Why do you have a gun?” He demanded. You hadn’t noticed until you finally looked at Tam, seeing the gun that was

When Tam explained that he had approached them on the X-Deck, threatened them with it, your heart sank. You looked over at Schmidt, a worried expression glazed over your eyes while he shook his head, silently telling you that it was fine and that he would tell you about it later.

“Just lock it away, Tam!” At this point, Mundy and Hamilton were joining the rest of the crew in the medbay, watching as Acosta and yourself looked over Volkov. While Acosta used his flashlight to look down his throat, you pressed your fingers to his wrist, feeling for a pulse.

You tried to focus on finding a pulse, moving your two fingers up and down his wrist. You figured that because he was unconscious, his pulse would be harder to find - evidently he wasn’t as unconscious as you thought to believe because when he suddenly grabbed your wrist, you let out a gasp and stepped back, tugging your wrist out of his grasp and stumbling back, the Commander caught you from falling and kept you pulled back away from Volkov who began to finally spit up blood and violently shake.

“W-What’s happening?” You found yourself asking, although nobody seemed to truly know what the hell was going on, all standing around in shock at the disturbing sight of Volkov. His convulsions grew more rapid before finally his spine snapped up, silence deafening the room as he fell down before being replaced by the sound of his flatline.

You never were a fan of Volkov, but you would be lying to yourself if you said that you were happy to see him gone in such a gruesome matter. You wouldn’t wish that on anyone, not even your worst enemy, not even Volkov.

“No...no.”

Glancing to your right, you frowned at the sight of Mundy, who slowly approached the end of the examination table, looking down at Volkov. Hamilton extended her arm out to console Mundy, but then suddenly out of nowhere, Volkov was at it again, only this time it was one final blow.

The worms that came out of Volkov’s mouth was one thing, but the quantity of the slimy earthworms that erupted from him. They coaxed the floors and your feet like mud, impossible to step away from them as you, like the rest of the crew, began to stomp down on them, desperately trying to get them away and off of you.

When the worms suddenly stopped, lying now on the floor, you leaned against the wall, catching your breath after the incident that just happened. Your eyes glanced at Schmidt who was looking at Tam to see if she was okay. You smiled weakly and looked around the rest of the room, noticing that everyone else seemed to be okay as well.

“Well we found the worms.”

You didn’t know if it was Mundy’s poorly timed joke, the excessive amount of worms on the ground and the guts that were seeped into your shoes, or the horrifying sight of Volkov on the table, but something made your stomach churn, and you followed Hamilton closely as the both of you rushed out of the room, back into your quarters to throw up.

Your body hurled over the toilet, the sudden smell becoming almost unbearable. You quickly flushed the toilet before leaning back to shut the lid of the toilet seat, standing up and sitting now on the toilet while you brushed your teeth, trying your best to get the taste out of your mouth.

Leaning over the sink, you spit out the contents of your mouth, rinsing your toothbrush off before cupping your hand under the sink to collect water, bringing to your lips to intake and swish around your mouth, spitting the water out after a moment.

Making your way out of your bathroom, you wiped the beads of sweat that collected over your forehead off, leaning against the doorway to catch your breath. You kept your eyes closed, taking slow deep breaths in and gently exhaling through your mouth. You stayed this way until you heard your door open and shut.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Your attention shifted from the floor and up in front of you to Schmidt who now held you in an embrace, his hands placed on either side of your face, looking over you to make sure you were fine.

Shaking your head, you leaned forward and buried your face into his neck, hugging him tight as you began to cry.

“Volkov...I-,” You whimpered and clung to his suit tighter, “Ernst, I can’t unsee that. Even when I blink I can see him lying on that table and I don’t think I will ever get that sight out of my mind. What if that was yo-”

“But it wasn’t...it wasn’t! Hey, look at me,” He pulled your head back carefully, his thumbs running along your face as he swiped away your tears, pressing a kiss in between your brows, “I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I’m always going to be here.”

At this point he had pulled you back into his arms, cradling your head into his neck as he rocked side to side, his right hand on the back of your head while the other rubbed your back.

“I want to go home, Schmidt...I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t!” You thought of your family, your small home in the country. You always thought you were trapped in that home, sharing a room with your younger sister until you left for school. But now that you were in space, stuck aboard the ship, you only wished to be back in your room with Mila.

Schmidt’s heart sank, wincing at the sounds of your cries and pleads to return home. He wasn’t sure what to do, how to comfort you in that moment. You couldn’t reach your family, so calling was off the table, all he could do was hold you and listen to you cry. Eventually your sobs stopped and were replaced by faint whimpers that vibrated against his neck.

“I’ll get you home. I promise, I promise you’ll see your family again. But you have to stay strong until then, okay?” Schmidt kissed the top of your head, squeezing you one more time before pulling you back to coax you into your bed, laying you down before getting in beside you.

“You don’t have to-”

“I know, but I want to. I don’t think Tam is in any hurry right now, and neither am I.” You were surprised to hear him put you first - you understood why he never did given your secrecy of relationship and the fact that his role on the station was so important. But even now, after everything, hearing him put you first even for just a few minutes, it made you realize just how much you were in love with him.

You leaned forward and kissed his forehead, cradling his head now close to you as you laid with him. Your fingers running through his hair while his ran along your waist under your shirt. If it weren’t for how exhausted you were, you would have asked him how he was doing.

He wasn’t surprised to see you fall asleep so quickly, given how startling things were today for you. While he watched you sleep, holding onto him as if he were your teddy bear, he knew that he would need to leave you to go and get some work done. Schmidt didn’t want to, but he knew that he had to.

Gently pulling your hands away from him, he moved out from the bed and laid your arms down, watching as you shifted your position to your other side, your back facing him as you now faced the wall. Schmidt smiled and leaned down, pressing a kiss to your cheek before tucking you in, standing back up to turn and exit your room.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Evidently you needed sleep. You had hardly done anything that day, but given the circumstances of what went down with Volkov, all you wanted to do was sleep off that nightmare. You were only slightly disappointed to see that Schmidt was no longer with you, assuming that he was back up on the X-Deck with Tam.

Rolling into the pillow beside you, you pressed your face into it, letting out a sigh before intaking the faint scent of Schmidt that lingered onto the pillow from his time sleeping in your room. He smelled like home - happiness, love, and your mother’s baked goods.

Mama, she would love Ernst.

You knew that you needed to stop dwelling on your family. The lost communication signal and being so far away from Earth should have motivated you to want to help more, but instead it made you scared - your mind fleeting instead of fighting.

When the doors to your room opened, the light footsteps rushed in, cutting you off from your thoughts, you frowned and moved your head up from the pillow, your glare softening once you saw Tam.

“Tam? What are you-”

“It’s Schmidt!” She rushed, pointing towards the door. She began talking so fast that you could hardly make out what she was saying.

“Slow down, Tam, what are you saying?” You focused on her words slowly, trying your best to make out what she was telling you in Mandarian before you finally made out what she was telling you. The Commander had taken Schmidt to the airlock; apparently Jensen, the woman from the wall, was accusing him of working with German Intelligence to keep the Shepard offline.

Shooting up from your bed, you shook your head and got up, making your way towards Tam, “No, no that’s not true. Schmidt wouldn’t do that.” Tam nodded her head and sighed, of course she knew that - anyone who had a brain on board knew that Schmidt wasn’t the enemy. Sure he had his moments where his anger got the best of him, making it hard to see how he was any different from Volkov, but he was different, he was good and he wouldn’t betray you like that.

You couldn’t wait any longer, you had to see him. Excusing yourself from your room, you quickly rushed out and down the hall, making your way towards the airlock that was on the other side. Weaving through the halls, you cut the corners sharp, trying to not get caught by anyone and get down to him as quickly as you could.

Finally, after what felt like a dozen mazes you had gone through, you finally reached the airlock. Making your way up to the door, arms crossed with a frown on your face, you watched Schmidt raise his head from his knees, squinting towards you before rolling his eyes, looking the other way.

“Whatever it is you’re here to lecture me on, I’ve heard it already.”

You weren’t surprised by his irritated remark - hell, if you were thrown in isolation, you’d be pretty pissed too. Your mouth twitched into a smile before you shook your head, leaning against the small opening of the door, your forehead pressed against the glass.

“Do you always have to see me as the enemy? Even now, I think it’s safe to say that I’m here as a friend.” You explained, watching as his head slowly turned back towards you, his body language seeming to calm down.

“Just a friend?” He questioned, his own smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

You smiled and shook your head, your eyes gazing as he stood up and made his way towards the door, leaning forward to mimic your stance, his forehead pressed where your’s would be on the glass.

“More than a friend.” You finally answered, your fingers coming up to rest against the glass, running down where his face sat behind the glass. God you wished you were there with him, to hold him and feel his warm skin against your own.

His fingers raised up to the glass, pressing down where yours sat on the other side, a sigh escaping him - the glass in front of his mouth fogging over.

“I don’t believe them, you know. I know whatever Jensen said was a lie. You wouldn’t do that, Ernst. You’re better than that.” His mouth twitched into a smile and nodded, pulling away from the glass after a moment. He took a step back and stared at you, watching as you frowned, head tilted to the side.

“I wouldn’t say I’m better than that. Now you’re just making me sound like the good guy.” He noted, crossing his arms over his chest. You matched his posture, growing a little annoyed at the sudden lack of faith in himself.

“And aren’t you? You expect me to believe that this was expected of you?” You laughed and shook your head, tears welling in your eyes, “You’re insufferable, you know that? Can’t ever just believe in yourself can you? Always have to live up to what others think of you.”

“Can you blame me? I think it’s fair to say that I’ve had enough and tha-”

“And what?!” You snapped, cutting him off. You dropped your head down for a moment to catch your breath, looking back up at him after a moment. “How do you think I see you? Like the others?”

You took a step towards the window again, staring him down.

“You know what I see? A man who is too stubborn for his own good, who thinks that arguing with everyone to prove a point will get him anywhere,” You paused when you saw his head drop, standing like a child who knows he did something wrong. “I see someone who is too scared to ask someone to just believe them because you’re afraid that nobody will.”

Stopping, you took a deep breath before continuing, “But I also see someone who smart, funny despite your poorly executed jokes, and someone that I lov-”

You cut yourself off quick before the word could come out. Mouth gaped open in shock, you stared ahead at Schmidt who was equally shocked, his head snapped up and staring at you. The tears were now falling from your cheeks, face even redder than before as you shook your head, taking a step back as he took one forward.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“No, wait!”

But you didn’t listen to him. You ignored his pleads for you to come back, to finish what you were about to say. Your chest tightened, your heart hurting as you left the hall, flinching every time his scream for you became louder until finally there was nothing.

When you finally managed to escape the embarrassment of confessing your love at the worst time, you realized that you were down by the medbay. You were pleased to see that Acosta was in there, continuing to work on taking inventory in - the last thing you wanted to be right now was alone.

As you headed inside, his attention pulled from his clipboard and towards you, a weak smile on his face, “You okay?” He asked, noticing your clear discomfort. To him he only knew of Volkov, and how you ran out of the room at the sight of him throwing up the worms, he didn’t know that you were on the brink of tears from your moment with Schmidt.

“I-I think so...maybe, I don’t know,” You sighed and immediately went to work, trying to distract yourself, “I just think everything is finally getting to me. Seeing Volkov like that...I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, not even-” You paused and took a deep breath, closing your eyes before shaking your head.

“It makes you really understand death, how it can come out of nowhere and take anyone, right in front of you,” Your mind went to Schmidt, your family, the rest of the crew on board. Dying was one thing, but to die so horrible and unexpected, that was an entirely different kind of pain. “It makes you wonder about him, what his family must be thinking - if he had any.”

Acosta turned and looked at you, frowning as your back turned to him, continuing to work on your own inventory sheet, “If you live everyday dwelling on the idea of death, you won’t ever enjoy life…” His words paused your work, looking up from the clipboard and turning slightly over to him, watching as he approached you, “What is it that you’re afraid of?”

It took you back, the question. What were you afraid of? Well you were scared of many things - spiders, the dark, and frogs ever since your brother decided to cover you in them when you went camping. But those were silly fears, ones that didn’t eat you away. What you were so afraid of, was losing all your loved ones, to be alone.

“I’m afraid of-” You words fell silent, your breath hitching to your throat as you looked around, finding the confession silly now, “I’m afraid that once we leave the station, I won’t see anyone again. That Ernst will go back home and all of this, all of this was just because of the circumstances we were in.”

And then it hit you - why you were so afraid to tell him. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed or in doubt, you were afraid that he wouldn’t feel the same, that when you told him whatever you two had built over your time on the station would disappear in a flash.

You didn’t realize you were crying until Acosta took the napkin in his pocket and dabbed your cheeks. A weak laugh escaped from you as you shook your head, “It feels like everyday I’m crying more and more.”

“You’re human, crying is normal,” Pulling away from you, he threw the napkin in the trash as your tears soaked through it, leaving it thin and tattered. “Don’t ever apologize for showing emotions. God only knows we could show a little more around here.”

You smiled and shook your head, “You could say that aga-”

But before he could, the medbay doors opened and the Commander came rushing in, his face contorted into a scowl when he locked eyes on you. Did he catch you going down to see Schmidt? What did you do now?

“Commander, is there something we can help you wit-”

“Monk, I need you to be honest with me,” The Commander began, his gaze still locked on you, “How often is she down here alone? What does she do when you’re not here?”

Acosta took a step back, baffled at the questions that the Commander was asking him. Was he trying to accuse you of something?

“Commander, I don’t know what you’re trying to go on about, but if you’re accusing her of doing something I would like to know what it is-”

“We have reason to believe that she is stashing medicine away to take back with her when we land as part of the ongoing alliance with Germany against Russia.”

The laugh that escaped from you did not help your case, but what in the actual fuck was the Commander on? Reason to believe? Who was feeding him this bullshit?

“Commander, this is ridiculous! Why would I be stealing medicine? You know that I wouldn’t do anything to harm anyone on this ship,” You were taken back when the Commander walked over to you, grabbing your arm and pulling you with him, “What are you- let me go!” You cried, desperately trying to pull away.

Acosta attempted to grab you, but quickly stopped when the Commander turned around, “No, Monk! I’m not doing this anymore. I’m not risking another life on board this ship. Until we get back, her and Schmidt stay locked up. If Jensen is right, then we need them to be kept awa-”

“Jensen? The woman from the wall? That’s who is telling you this? Where is your integrity, Commander, if you can’t even trust your own crew?”

The Commander’s eyes fell to you, staring at you for a moment. Inside he knew that it was wrong of him to be so hostile towards his crew, but after everything that happened, he didn’t want to take any chances. He shook his head and kept silent, pulling you with him out of the medbay and down the hall.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

The blow to the floor knocked the wind from you - rolling to your side, you groaned and laid your palms flat on the ground before pushing yourself up, catching your balance before staring at the Commander through the small window of the airlock.

“Commander, you know this is ridiculous!” You yelled, watching as he shook his head and waved you off. Scoffing, you threw your hands up in defeat before taking a step closer to the door. “You’re going to believe Jensen? The woman who came out of the wall? Someone who is from a different dimension? Over your own team-”

“Enough!” The Commander roared and you cowered back, stopping in your tracks by Schmidt who was behind you, his hand on your back to keep you from tumbling back.

Letting out a sigh, straightening up, the Commander shook his head, almost in a disappointed way. “We trusted you both, for two years. Two years we saw you as our friends and just to find this? Messages to Germany and Serbia on complying with orders to keep the Shepard offline? To steal medical supplies for your own good?” The Commander paused and looked over the two of you carefully, his eyebrows bunched together.

“We trusted you...and you betrayed us. You’re going to sit here until we get back to base and then you’re going to explain to everyone why you did what you did.”

Before you could get a word out, the Commander was already turned and heading down the hall, leaving you and Schmidt in the airlock. You let out a sigh and felt your shoulders sink before dropping your head down into your hands, hiding your face in case you needed to cry.

Schmidt, while doing his best to comfort you, was still confused by earlier when you stopped by to see him when he was first thrown in isolation. The two of you hardly argued the way you did and his mind was still racing on what you were going to tell him. Of course he had an idea, but he wanted to hear it from you - he didn’t want the assumption.

“What happ-”

“What do you think happened, Schmidt? That bitch from the wall has everyone convinced now that I’m part of whatever scheme they think you’re on!” You shoved yourself away from him, crossing your arms over your chest as you turned your back to him, seething in your own anger.

He wasn’t taken back by your outburst, that he had come to face before, but took him back was his name - his last name to be exact. You never called him Schmidt unless you were absolutely pissed beyond pissed, it was always Ernst.

Catching your arm, Schmidt tugged you back to face him, a glare casted over his own face, matching yours. You went to push him off you again but he caught your wrist, tightening his grip around both wrists now as he pushed you against the wall, pining you in place.

“I’m not the enemy here, remember?” Pinned to the wall, your hands beside either side of your head, you glared and moved your foot up, gently kicking him back until he stumbled away, giving you the opportunity to dominate him, grabbing his waist and tugging him down until he was pinned onto the floor under you. With your hands on his wrists, pinning them above his head, you sat on his lap, looking down at him.

“I remember, but right now, you’re being a real pain in my ass.”

As the two of you huffed, glaring at one another, it was you who finally made a move, leaning forward and kissing him deeply, his hands instantly breaking out of your grasp and coming to your head, holding you close as the two of you kissed.

His neck strained as he leaned up to kiss you, soon growing tired of the burning in his neck and sitting up fully, moving your legs to wrap around his waist as you continued to kiss. You became needy quickly, unzipping his suit to push down until it settled at his waist, the shirt under his suit coming off just as fast as your own shirt did.

In the moment that led up to you sitting in the airlock undressed, on Schmidt’s lap, you all but forgot your surroundings, realizing just how exposed you were to anyone who wanted to come near the room.

“Schmidt, wait, someone is going to-”

“Nobody is going to see us. Someone will hear us if you don’t keep quiet.” He insisted, his mouth open as he tried to catch his breath. His suit was around his knees, shirt discarded with the rest of your clothes while you hovered over his dick naked. Schmidt did prefer the comfort of your room to fuck you in, but in the heated moment the two of you shared, pissed at the world around you and deciding to take it out on each other, this would do.

Blushing at his words, you bit down on your bottom lip and nodding, doing your best to keep quiet while you rested your knees on his thighs, feeling him guide himself into you, his free hand coming to grab your waist, moving you to settle down on his dick. Your head fell back as you moaned, clinging to his shoulders while your hips rocked down onto him, Schmidt’s head falling forward into your chest, kissing the tops of your breasts before nipping at the skin of your neck and jaw.

“You’re so beautiful...how did I get so lucky?” He murmured, pressing wet kisses up your neck before finally looking into your eyes. Your gaze was locked on Schmidt’s as you continued to ride him, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his neck, forehead pressed against his as you raised up and sank back down onto his dick.

“Shh, don’t, don’t say that,” You whimpered at his words, closing your eyes tightly. You didn’t know why you were getting overemotional, but his words were so soft compared to how rough he was thrusting up into you - it didn’t hurt, but it didn’t match the tone of his words. “Please, Schmidt, just fuck me.”

And he did. He kept his grip locked down on your hips as he guided you up and down his dick, the sounds of skin slapping against each other echoing the room. You couldn’t bite your moans back any longer and pressed your lips to his shoulder, moaning into his skin to muffle you. His lips found your own shoulder, biting and sucking dark bruises into your skin, his pace quickening as he felt you tighten around him.

“Желим те, please Schmidt, oh, plea-”

“What? What do you want? Tell me and I’ll give it to you, liebling.” You whined at his words and felt your core tighten, locking in place sunken onto his dick while he gasped, his fingers digging into your ass that was in his lap.

“I want you, Schmidt,” You weren’t quite at your peak just yet, but you were getting close. Schmidt, on the other hand, wasn’t going to let you quit now. Tugging your head back by your hair, he stared up at you, smirking to himself at the sight of you.

“Not yet,” He warned, one hand in your hair, the other around your waist. He needed to hear it from you, what you were going to tell him, “Not until you tell me what you were going to say.”

It caught you off guard, his demand. Of all the times he wanted you to think, now wasn’t the time. Casting your gaze down at him, eyebrows knitted close, you shook your head, confused.

“I don’t, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You whined when he thrusted up in you suddenly, trying to get you to focus, “Ernst...please...I don’t remem-”

“When you came to see me earlier - you said all those things about me, you didn’t finish the last part,” He kept his hips moving up into you, reaching his peak as he stared up at you. All he wanted to do was cum in you as you told him that you loved him, “Please...just tell me.”

He was so desperate to hear the confession. His eyes glazed over as he pressed his forehead to you, closing his eyes tightly. If you didn’t love him as much as you did, you might’ve found him to be rather pathetic at the moment.

“Волим те,” You whispered, clinging to him as your orgasm began to finally hit you. You whined and wrapped your arms around him tighter, your legs shaking as you pressed your lips to his cheek, peppering his face with kisses, “Волим те....Волим те….Волим те.”

Of course you had to say it in Serbian - the one language Schmidt still had yet to learn. Before he could beg you to tell him in English, he felt his cock twitch in you and his orgasm finally hit. With a grunt, he sank his teeth into your shoulder, panting against your skin as he came down from his high. You on the other hand, went limp against him, trying to catch your breath.

Both of you sat like that for a few moments, catching your breath while gently petting one another. Your hands running up and down his neck while his went up and down your back. When your brain finally cleared, you sat back and looked down at him, a smile on your face. Schmidt smiled back up at you, taking your face into his hands before kissing you softly.

The kiss was sweet, delicate, pure. This was the Schmidt that you knew, your Ernst - your beloved spaceman. You knew despite all his pent up anger, he was good and gentle. When you both pulled away from the kiss, his mouth fell open to speak, but was cut off by the door opening, although nobody was standing outside.

“Did you do that?” Schmidt found himself asking, staring in shock at the door. Your attention was pulled from the door and at him.

“Ernst, how could I have opened the door if I’m sitting on your dick?” You questioned. You watched his cheeks go red, his eyes glancing towards you before nodding, “Right…”

Helping you up, the two of you quickly pulled your clothes back on, smoothing your hair down to not make it so obvious that you had jumped each other's bones in the airlock. You cleared your throat and took a step forward to see what it was that let you out before coming to a sudden stop by Schmidt.

“Wait, I’ll go first. You just stay back, okay?” You knew there wasn’t time to argue. You obeyed and stayed back, lingering in the doorway of the airlock while Schmidt ventured out, the faint tapping noise picking up the farther he got out.

“Be careful!” You warned, your fingers toying with the string of your sweatpants. Your gaze kept locked on Schmidt as he continued to move down the hall, his steps soon slowing to a stop as he turned, looking down the other end of the hall. He seemed to be in shock with whatever it was that he saw.

“What? What is it-” As you made your way towards him, your own gaze went down the hall where the noise was coming from, your words cut off by your gasp at the sight of a single arm crawling down the hallway.

“Stay here, make sure it doesn’t leave!” Turning, Schmidt quickly rushed back to the door of the airlock, pressing down on the intercom to get everyone down there. “I need the whole crew on M-Deck, as fast as you can.”

Your eyes kept focused on the arm that was crawling to you, stepping back once as if it were going to jump at you. From your spot down the hall you heard the Commander ask who had let them out of the airlock, all for Schmidt to urge them to hurry.

As Schmidt made his way back towards you, standing beside you, both of you couldn’t take your eyes off the arm. It looked to be Mundy’s arm, but you weren’t sure if it was or wasn’t. Of all the things that were happening, this was by far the strangest.

It didn’t take long for the crew to make their way down to M-Deck, the rest of the crew surrounding you and Schmidt as he pointed towards the end of the hall, the arm continuing to make it’s slow approach towards you. When you looked over at Mundy who was beside you, your eyes widened at the sight of his missing arm.

Well that would explain the arm crawling around.

“We need to catch it,” Hamilton explained suddenly. She was right, you couldn’t just stand around watching it, “I’ll go get something.”

While she rushed off to find something to capture the arm, Tam and Schmidt rushed forward, grabbing it and holding it steady until Hamilton came back with a glass box, placing it over the arm to trap it.

“Be careful with it!” Mundy cried. Looking up at him, you offered an apologetic smile, “I just don’t want them to break it.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, Mundy.”

He winced slightly, lips pulling to a thin smile before looking back ahead as Schmidt approached Mundy. You were just as annoyed as Mundy was when Schmidt asked if he were controlling his arm.

“I’m not controlling it! It’s over there!” Mundy explained, motioning towards his arm that was kept in the box.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure! Because right now I’m giving you the finger!” The two men locked eyes for a moment, as if ready to start arguing before turning back towards the arm.

“How is that alive?” You found yourself asking, crossing your arms over your chest as you took a step closer towards it, wanting to take a closer look. Before you could get too close, Schmidt pulled you back.

“Don’t get too close to it, we don’t know what-”

“It’s my bloody fucking arm, Schmidt! What else could it be?” Letting go of you, Schmidt sighed as he glanced around the room.

“One thing is clear. The overload did it. None of us believed it was real, but this is the paradox,” Of course nobody wanted to believe him, it was too out there to believe that it was real. “Particles interacting with each other across different dimensions. Two distinct realities in a multiverse...fighting to occupy the same space, creating chaos.”

Schmidt paused for a moment, catching his breath from his scientific explanation, Mundy having a seat to process everything while everyone else stayed frozen in their spots around each other.

“These aren’t the things we know...because they don’t belong to us.”

And then it began to click with everyone. Jensen, Schmidt’s communication logs, your own hidden stash of medicine that the Commander found. This wasn’t from your reality, but another.

"While another paradox is thriving, our's is burning...failing." You mumbled. You glanced over at the Commander, who looked between you and Schmidt in guilt. Of course you were still pissed at the accusation, but it seemed to finally click with him that you were telling the truth. Yes, Jensen was too, but that was in her reality, not your’s.

“Uh, guys. I think my arm is trying to write something.”

Looking over your shoulder towards Mundy’s arm that was captured, you were only slightly surprised to see that it was, in fact, trying to write something.

“Quick, somebody get a pen!” At the Commander’s order, Hamilton quickly turned and looked around for a pen, coming back with a red marker and handing it to Mundy, who gave it to his own arm.

“Oh, that’s creepy.” He groaned, stepping back to watch his arm.

As his arm began to scribble, the crew surrounded the glass cage, reading the words CUT VOLKOV OPEN.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Standing on the other side of the table that Volkov lied on. You glanced ahead at Acosta who held the knife in his hand, shaking as it hovered over Volkov’s chest. He seemed uncomfortable, not able to cut open into him. When he dropped the knife, he sighed and looked around.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do it.”

“Come on, you’re the doctor-”

“Give it to me, Acosta,” You explained, cutting Mundy off with your hand extended out in front of you. When Acosta did, you took a deep breath and looked down at Volkov. It was almost as if he were sleeping, and perhaps that’s why it took you a moment before finally cutting into him.

The knife sinking into his chest wasn’t the worst part, cutting down until you had enough to rip open. It was ripping him open that made your stomach turn. Taking a hold of either side of his opened chest, you broke open his front, trying to ignore the tearing sounds and the smell from his organs.

When the smell hit you in the face, you jolted back, your arm coming up to your face to cover your nose and mouth, gagging harshly. You shook your head as Tam came up to you, holding your hand in front of her.

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” You smiled weakly at her before turning back to Volkov, exhaling through your mouth before going back in.

Your hands sank into Volkov’s organs, surprised to feel the warmth still in him. It reminded you of Thanksgiving with your family, how you always refused to stuff the turkey because you hated the feeling of the guts.

“Mama, please, I don’t want to do this, you know I hate it!” You whined, your face turned away as your hands sank into the turkey, your face going green.

“Oh just smile! I want to put this in the scrapbook!” Your mother insisted, holding a camera to your face.

You winced and peeked an eye open, “Mama!” You whined, earning a laugh from your father who sat at the table prepping the potatoes with your brother and sister.

“Come on dear, just smile once for your mother, it’ll be over before you know it.” Your father cooed, pausing his moments from slicing the potatoes to look over at you near the oven.

Groaning, you glared slightly for a moment before complying, opening your eyes and smiling weakly at the camera, watching as the flash went off before your mother grinned at you.

“Okay, I think that was enough torture for you. Go wash up and come back and you can help me with the pie.”

Ripping your hands from the turkey, you quickly rushed out of the kitchen and down the hall towards the bathroom, the repeated “ew, ew, ew” echoing throughout the home.

You tried to not think about what you were digging through, your eyes sealed tight as your arms sank in Volkov more, elbows deep before finally feeling something. It felt cold, sphere shaped, something that clearly didn’t belong inside of someone’s organs.

“I found something!” You exclaimed, gripping onto whatever you caught and slowly pulling it out of Volkov. When you stood up straight, holding out what you found, you nearly dropped it in shock. It was the gyro.

The missing gyro was inside Volkov.

#paradox burning #ernst schmidt #ernst schmidt imagine #ernst schmidt smut #ernst schmidt x reader #ernst schmidt x you

137 notes · View notes

zenonaa · 3 years

Text

'Like the rest of the group, he also wondered what could have driven out such a grin from him, out in the open like that. Worse, it could have not been a ‘what’, but a ‘who’. He had prided himself on never letting anyone slip under his skin, never letting anyone become close to him. Learning to rely on others, and let others rely on him, was one thing. This felt more personal, like a kick to the stomach.'

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya Characters: Fukawa Touko, Togami Byakuya, Naegi Makoto, Naegi Komaru, Kirigiri Kyouko, Asahina Aoi, Hagakure Yasuhiro Additional Tags: TogaFuka Week 2021 Summary: Togami and the others stumble across a photograph of him smiling, but he can't remember the context so the others try to figure out what happened for him to do that.

Comments: owo what's this? togafuka week day 1: happiness! i haven't actually written something for all the days but this is one of the things that i did manage to squeeze out.

💗 Please like, share and comment if you enjoyed it! 💗

***

Cleaning up Hope’s Peak wasn’t an afternoon affair. Beyond the old school building that Byakuya knew too intimately, debris clogged hallways, trash lay scattered throughout the campus like weeds and the air smelled of rust and blood. The group of seven started with the art building on the east side of campus. For the first few hours, Yasuhiro hummed as he hauled cardboard boxes, Komaru still had the patience to prepare and bring lemonade, and Aoi’s sunshine voice beamed between walls as she shared a story about the time her family held a second-hand sale in their backyard.

By the end of the day, however, their lively chatter had dimmed with the sky. Inside remained as bright thanks to Byakuya and Yasuhiro reconnecting the electricity, but darkening windows reminded them of the aches in their limbs, the ebbing flames behind their eyes. Byakuya swept his gaze across what used to be a theatre but was currently a sorting room filled with boxes instead of chairs. Makoto, Touko, Komaru and Yasuhiro were sitting together on boxes, while Kyouko and Aoi had just walked in with a dirty wheelbarrow.

“We should adjourn until the morning,” Byakuya announced. He reached a hand toward his glasses, intending to push them up, but stopped himself when he remembered the grime clinging to his palms. Not wanting to dirty his glasses, he lowered his hand.

The Byakuya of the past would have deemed this sort of manual labour beneath him, yet he had willingly spent most of that day working alongside his companions. His friends. How things changed.

“There is so much stuff,” said Aoi, who by now had parked the wheelbarrow and was slouched against it. She wiped her vest against her forehead.

“And not a lot of it is useful,” added Kyouko, next to Aoi. Yasuhiro straightened up.

“Nonsense. All we need to do is spruce them up, and they’ll be ready to go on sale.” He walked over to a broken lamp, its shade bitten and discoloured, as dirty as the floor it lay on. “Like this lamp. Fix this up, and it’ll be as good as new. Then all we need is a good pitch and b’am,” he punched his palm, “sold.”

“You can’t do that with everything here,” said Komaru. He put his hands onto his hips.

“Not with that attitude! But with the right mindset, you could sell anything here, guaranteed.”

Yasuhiro rubbed his finger against his nose, grinning like a fool. Some things changed, but others stayed remarkably the same. Byakuya’s gaze drifted over to Touko, who was scowling at Yasuhiro. Touko was both different and the same. Different, because she stood firm where she used to cower, and she let others into her world where she used to cloak herself in darkness.

And same because while like Byakuya, she had learned to allow herself to rely on friends and for friends to rely on her, she was still head over heels in love with him.

She pointed at a black bag containing hunks of metal. “What sales pitch do you have for this?”

“Easy! All you have to do is make the contents into sculptures,” replied Yasuhiro. “Their only purpose is to be admired, ‘right? Add a backstory to go with them and boom, sold. You can do that to practically anything even if it’s trash.”

“No way,” said Aoi.

“Want to bet?”

The group roused to accept his challenge. Makoto found a used wipe container, and Yasuhiro clicked his fingers and said to fill it with plastic bags, turning it into a dispenser that was portable and could fit easily into a car drawer. Aoi presented him with pizza boxes, at which Yasuhiro laughed and demanded more so they could be decked in wrapping paper and transformed into a drawer unit. When Komaru found a metal pipe, Yasuhiro claimed it needed a clean and spray paint and it could sit contentedly on a shelf.

Yasuhiro even sucked Byakuya and Touko into the game. The cork in Byakuya’s hand changed into a keychain, and Yasuhiro’s voice fashioned an old juice carton into a recyclable purse ideal for coins and trips to the arcade. Each item that the others found, Yasuhiro repurposed it into something else.

“There has to be something you can’t reuse,” Komaru insisted. She peeled the lid open on a cardboard box and lifted out a hardback red book from inside it. “What about these photos? Who’d want to have pictures of strangers?”

“Photos?” said Kyouko, intrigued.

“Yeah, there are a whole load of albums in here. I went through a few earlier but didn’t recognise anyone, so I forgot about them.”

Touko rolled her eyes. “Typical...”

Kyouko and Aoi each took out an album. The box seemed to contain several of them, their covers glazed in dust and cobwebs.

“Gekkogahara-san is in this one,” said Kyouko within a few seconds of skimming.

By now, the rest of the group had gravitated over. Inside the album that Kyouko was holding, the photographs were contained in plastic flaps that overlapped so only the one on top could be seen unless it was flicked up, revealing the photograph beneath. In the photograph currently on display, Miaya Gekkogahara was sitting next to a pale guy with dark hair and dark shadows under his eyes, who Byakuya recognised as Yasuke Matsuda. They appeared to be seated at a computer desk, their heads turned toward the photographer.

“It’s really her,” murmured Makoto. “And not a robot masquerading as her.”

“Do you think these are all photos of her class?” asked Yasuhiro as he and the others picked up their own photo albums to browse.

“If that’s true, then everyone in these are deceased,” said Touko.

Aoi winced. “When you phrase it like that, this feels kind of morbid.”

Makoto flipped through a few flaps in the album in his hands. Then his creased forehead exploded as his eyebrows shot up. “This album contains our class!”

Everyone crowded around him. The photograph showed a pink room with a television screen hanging on the wall. Blurred writing glowed on it that Byakuya struggled to decipher. In front of it, Couch seats were positioned around three sides of a table, and on the seats sat members of their class. The only classmate not in the photograph was Sakura.

“Sakura-chan must have been taking the photograph,” said Aoi. “No way would our class exclude her.”

Holding the album in one hand, Makoto scratched his head with his other.

“I vaguely recall this,” he said. “Kuwata-kun... yes, I think it was him... booked a karaoke room, and the whole class packed in. All of us sang at least once.”

While Future Foundation had aided them in recovering from the memory loss inflicted by Junko, some memories were stronger than others. For Byakuya, he could recall plenty of events, but none came with any emotion attached. It was as though he was reading about them in a newspaper afterwards.

“Byakuya-sama graced us with his voice,” Touko piped up. The ends of her lips curled upward as she squeezed her hands together. “I r-remember... he made the air taste like chocolate syrup... his words spread a chill across my skin... ah...”

Byakuya remembered performing a single song, but he hated singing, and he couldn’t remember what compelled him to accept a microphone.

“Enoshima tried to steal such a precious memory from us.” Aoi rubbed the heel of her hand against her eye. “Sakura-chan sang a beautiful song about friendship. Her voice washed over the room like the ocean.”

Kyouko placed a hand onto Aoi’s shoulder. Komaru flicked through the other photographs in the album. Byakuya didn’t pay Komaru any more mind, frowning at Touko as she seemed to relive the experience of him singing. Her recollection appeared much more intimate than his own. Part of him wanted to ask her for more details. Another part was repulsed.

Komaru gasped.

“What is it?” asked Makoto as they all focused on the album again. The photograph that had captured her attention depicted Byakuya. Nothing extraordinary appeared to be in the photograph - he was sitting on a bench at an angle, not facing the camera.

Yet the others stared with their mouths agape.

“I have never seen Togami-chi smile like that,” said Yasuhiro.

Byakuya inspected the photograph closer. Though it had been taken at a distance - probably so he wouldn’t realise someone was taking a photograph of him - there was a definite smile gracing his lips. It wasn’t a smirk, or a cruel grin, or the faint curve he sometimes showed around his friends, but a smile showing teeth, one that didn’t just meet his eyes, but made his gaze, no, his face glow.

What he was looking at, however, was unclear. It was now that Byakuya realised the photograph had been torn, and the section that held the object of his attention wasn’t in the album.

“It must have been something amazing to have made him smile back then,” said Yasuhiro.

They all turned to Byakuya, who pursed his lips.

“Putting aside whether I would tell you if I knew, I don’t actually recall when this took place,” he said.

“Maybe we could help jog your memory?” Aoi suggested. “When I want to remember something, I write it on my palm three times.”

“That won’t help,” said Touko. “You can only do that while you still remember the thing.” Her teeth gritted. “Argh... if only I knew what could have elicited such a pure smile from Byakuya-sama...!”

She dragged her fingers down her face.

“It’s not a big deal,” said Byakuya. While the others burned with curiosity, discomfort stewed in his gut like when he had watched Touko reminisce about the karaoke session.

Like the rest of the group, he also wondered what could have driven out such a grin from him, out in the open like that. Worse, it could have not been a ‘what’, but a ‘who’. He had prided himself on never letting anyone slip under his skin, never letting anyone become close to him. Learning to rely on others, and let others rely on him, was one thing. This felt more personal, like a kick to the stomach.

“There has to be some way to reawaken the memory,” said Komaru, her tone light without the burden of his thoughts. She turned to Kyouko. “You must know a way.”

“Must I?” Kyouko’s eyebrows rose.

“Because you’re from a detective family,” said Aoi, nodding.

“Actually...” Komaru’s smile cringed on her face. “I um... just assume Kyouko-chan knows everything.”

“There are a few techniques we can try,” said Kyouko, faintly amused. “Perhaps if we pinpoint when and where exactly the photograph took place, that may stir something in Togami-kun’s brain.”

Other than Byakuya, no one else was in the frame. A briefcase leaned against a bench leg and a pile of papers rested on his lap. Annoyingly, he couldn’t see any writing that may have been on the papers. In the photograph, he wasn’t looking at them. He was focused on the nothingness where the other half of the photograph should have been.

“That has to be the main plaza,” said Aoi. “I recognise the benches. Sakura-chan and I finished our morning runs there. Then we would sit down and drink some water. We never saw Togami there though.”

“Yeah. That looks like the fountain at the back,” added Makoto.

Kyouko stroked her chin. “The sliver of sky in the background appears rather pale, and judging by the colour of the leaves, it’s approximately autumn.”

“Togami-chi never missed a lesson, so it had to be late-afternoon at the latest, ‘right?” said Yasuhiro.

“Unless it was the weekend,” Makoto pointed out, prompting Yasuhiro to exhale frustratedly through his teeth. The thoughtful expression on Kyouko’s face, however, didn’t waver.

“We can deduce whether he had lessons on that day,” said Kyouko.

“How?” asked Aoi.

Byakuya already knew. “I’m not in uniform.”

“Indeed,” said Kyouko with a bob of her head. “So unless you changed into another outfit after your lessons, this scene transpired at the weekend.”

“Does that ring any bells for you?” Komaru asked Byakuya, clasping her hands together, eyes wide with optimism. “Visiting the plaza on the weekend, and catching sight of something that brings joy to your face...?”

His jaw clenched. All of them were staring at him. They had a campus as large as four high schools to clear and they had only made a dent so far, but the arduous task appeared to have been pushed aside in favour of probing his brain for some memory. Oh, how they tried his patience at times.

“I can’t say it brings anything to mind, though it is unusual for me to be there,” he said in a level tone. “Usually, during the weekend, I would be indoors, either in my room or in the library.”

Certainly not at the plaza. Certainly not with a brazen smile chipped into his face.

“I think we’ve followed the photograph’s lead as far as it can go,” said Yasuhiro. “Now we must turn to guesswork. If we bounce ideas off each other, that might help Togami-chi remember. Perhaps you had come from a meeting, where you struck a billion dollar deal?”

“Or you emerged from the cafeteria after they served some tasty donuts?” Aoi chimed in.

Byakuya’s frown sank in deeper.

“Or you finished a really good manga?” said Komaru.

“Or listened to a good song?” added Makoto.

Yasuhiro clicked his fingers. “I once read that listening to music is a good way to stir up memories. If we find a piece with the right mood, Togami-chi ought to remember the scene!”

“What sort of mood do you guys reckon we should play?” asked Komaru as she shoved her hand into her coat.

“Something cheerful,” said Aoi.

Komaru retrieved her phone from her pocket and tapped on her screen. A few seconds later, a series of beeps sang out of her phone, playing over the sound of clapping and a fast drumbeat. She side-stepped back and forth to the rhythm, and Byakuya lasted until the first few lines of Swedish auto tuned singing.

“Turn that off,” snapped Byakuya. “It’s not helping me think. It’s giving me a headache instead.”

With a pout, Komaru switched it off.

“Perhaps we should visit the location,” said Kyouko.

Touko’s brow creased. “Won’t it be dark?”

“Don’t worry, Touko-chan, our phones can provide you with light,” Komaru assured her, patting Touko on the shoulder.

They set off, departing from the old theatre and winding through corridors toward the plaza. Byakuya stayed silent, lagging behind most of the others slightly. Only Touko seemed to take note of this, and though she didn’t speak to him, she hovered further back than him, and he could feel her eyes on the back of his neck like flies crawling against his skin.

As they drew closer, he concluded that they wished so desperately to discover the source of his smile because they planned to use it against him. Perhaps they intended to humiliate him, or blackmail or manipulate him. But they were his friends, weren’t they? Surely they didn’t plan on using what they learned against him?

Yet... if that wasn’t the case, then why?

The plaza was no longer the picturesque location it once was. It couldn’t have been in a brochure promoting the academy, like the photograph in the album. Weeds grew between upturned slabs, gnarled fingers reaching toward the sky. Nearby, the rubble corpse of the fountain didn’t spout water, dry as sun bleached bone. They all stood silently for a while, observing their surroundings. There were no benches to sit on.

“It sure has changed a lot,” said Yasuhiro.

“It’ll do. Hagakure, bend over on all fours.” Aoi pointed at her feet. “You will play the part of the bench.”

Yasuhiro balked. “Why me? You’re stronger.”

Her stare didn’t relent. He managed a few more seconds before he dropped to his knees and planted his hands in front of himself. Once he was in position, Aoi turned to Byakuya expectantly.

“I am not sitting on him,” said Byakuya flatly.

“Please, Togami-san!” Komaru pleaded, shaking her phone in both hands. Light from the screen danced across her face and when her hands stilled, so did the glow. It seeped into her skin, accentuating the crinkle between her eyebrows and the stare from her eyes that pulled, pulled, pulled at Byakuya until he snapped.

“Why are you all making a big deal of this?” Byakuya asked not only Komaru, but all of them. He flung up a hand. “There is a photograph of me smiling. That’s it. It concerns me that you’re so obsessed with finding out what caused me to smile.”

His question clenched them in its jaws, burning the air with acid. He waited for one of them to answer. For Touko to do more than fidget, and Komaru to stop chewing her lip. Finally, the pressure squeezed out a response from Makoto.

“You’re our friend,” said Makoto. “You’re usually so serious, and you rarely ever seem happy. We thought if we could find out what made you that happy back then...”

“... we could bring that happiness back to you now,” finished Touko, curling her fingers into her palms. Byakuya tensed.

That explanation had never occurred to him. For most of his life, he had been forced to be on the defensive, to anticipate betrayals and attacks from anyone. Then again, for most of his life, he hadn’t been acquainted with people like this. Friends. He grimaced, staring at Touko for several long seconds before averting his gaze and pushing up his glasses.

“Nuisances...” But he seated himself on Yasuhiro’s back, setting his feet firmly on the ground.

Byakuya tried to imagine the sky was a pool of water, not ink, and that he was on a bench, and that water streamed from a fountain behind him. However, the air remained as dry and dark as his mouth, and no matter how often his mind mended the slabs of the plaza, they would crack and decay within moments.

“Anything?” said Touko, wringing her hands.

He folded his arms over his chest.

“No,” said Byakuya. A collective sigh spread, though Makoto was soon grinning again.

“I guess we’ll have to keep trying to make you happy.”

Byakuya clicked his tongue, but his lips twitched outward and he quickly hid it behind his hand. Nuisances.

“Does this mean you can stand up now?” Yasuhiro asked from beneath Byakuya.

Aoi stretched her arms upward, arching her back, and yawned. “We ought to call it a day. It’s getting late.”

While the others headed toward the dormitory building that they were currently living in. Byakuya stayed where he was. Their footsteps faded, the glow of their phones shrinking into five pinpricks of light before disappearing completely. Despite his friends’ efforts, they had failed to uncover the story of the photograph. Now that he knew their motives hadn’t been nefarious, he could appreciate their attempts and found himself wondering what had happened all those years ago.

“It’s a shame we don’t know what made you so happy back then,” said Touko next to him, echoing his thoughts. She hadn’t retired for the night with the others. He glanced at her, meeting her gaze. Her phone shone a light against her wistful expression.

“I suppose so,” he said in a casual tone.

“With many of my memories, I don’t recall exact details, but they evoke certain feelings.”

His eyebrows rose a fraction in interest. “Oh?”

“Yes. For example, standing here... is stirring some emotion in me. I think I have a memory associated with this place too.”

Byakuya turned his whole body to face her.

“What emotion?” he asked.

She didn’t answer right away, as if letting the thought sit on her tongue, tasting it.

“Warmth,” she said. “Like the warmth I feel when I’m with you. Perhaps I will never remember what happened to give me that feeling. B-But... I have many other precious memories... and I can work on creating more with you, Byakuya-sama.”

Her lips twisted into a smile. Meanwhile, his insides twisted, much like they did whenever she referred to him in a romantic manner. He had been experiencing the sensation more frequently around her lately. Sometimes, all she had to do was meet his gaze or brush against him, and his stomach would coil like she had pressed her lips against his.

“Byakuya-sama?” Touko’s voice broke into his thoughts. “A-Are you feeling all right?”

He did not want to think what about his face had made her ask that all of a sudden.

“I’m fine,” he said, and he adjusted his glasses. “We’ve dawdled here for long enough. Let’s return to the dormitories.”

“Together?” blurted Touko. Without a word, Byakuya strode away, and she darted after him, keeping abreast. “Are you going straight to sleep when you arrive back?”

His eyes stayed forward.

“No. I will have some tea and read first,” he replied.

“What do you plan on reading?”

“Out by Natsuo Kirino,” he said. Her head jerked back.

“I r-recently finished that!”

“I know. After seeing you reading it, I thought I would give it a try. I was more interested when I learned that it’s not a romance, but a crime novel.”

“I specialise in romance, but I read for a variety of genres,” she said. “I can recommend some more books i-if you want. Have you read The Inugami Clan? You may find the start slow, but I think you will enjoy the cast and the premise...”

He listened as they walked back together. The more she spoke, the more passionate she became, and he couldn’t help looking at her as she lit up, waving her arms around.

A smile poked at the corners of his lips, and he finally felt a sense of déjà vu.

#togafuka #togafukaweek #touko fukawa #byakuya togami #junko enoshima #dr3 #komaru naegi #makoto naegi #kyouko kirigiri #yasuhiro hagakure #aoi asahina #fanfiction #one shot

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