#consti's face

[world-of-stone]

This pic is hilarious, I just had to share it

[tobiasdrake]

So Rain Code has DLC to zero in on each of the non-Yuma detectives. Gonna play through these in order of release. Who do we start with? Let's see, that would be....

Goddammit. Desuhiko.

Okay, well. At least we can get him out of the way and then move on to the characters I like. Wonder if these take place before, after, or during the main game?

Well, we're opening at the Scary Zombie Rex Museum so that eliminates "before" as an option. Either the Secret of Kanai Ward investigation is currently ongoing or this is between Makoto's defeat and the Master Detectives leaving town.

Ooh, classic cat burglar mystery going on. So it looks like we'll have to stop this notorious thief from stealing the precious jewels. Okay, we can--

Nope, never mind, we failed. That was a short DLC. Alright, who's next on the list?

Alright, shouldn't be too hard to identify the Nine-Tailed Cat. As we can clearly see from this silhouette, our target is a naked man. Bizarre choice of aesthetic for a cat burglar, but I'm not going to judge.

Go, Nudist Thief, go!

...where do you think he stashed the jewel? Probably best not to think about that.

Again!? How often do naked men steal things on your watch!?

Desuhiko's over here proving my firmly-held belief that the word "again" is the funniest word in the English language.

Will you, though? Your skillset is in intelligence gathering. You're pretty much my last choice in fisticuffs, so I'm pretty sure anyone else on the team is better suited to apprehending our streaker.

Makoto agrees. When he was faking everyone's deaths, he had you die first. He knew there'd be no doubt about that.

I wouldn't call what Desuhiko has charisma. If he were charismatic, people would be willing to buy what he's selling. Instead, his role is one of constantly embarrassing himself for comic relief but with zero self-awareness of how cringe everyone else finds him. His behavior routinely makes him the butt of the joke.

Enthusiasm is how I'd describe Desuhiko. He has enthusiasm. Despite rejection after rejection after rejection, despite constantly failing to convince anyone or even himself that he's cool, Desuhiko never stops putting out a positive façade and trying again.

Oh hey, Yakou's sapient! That places us pretty firmly in the "during" timespan. We're somewhere between Desuhiko's arrival in town and Chapter 4.

The museum must be taking this pretty seriously. Amaterasu's isolation would make it difficult to procure new art pieces for display. Pretty much whatever they already had here plus anything new that the residents create, that's it.

So far as new gems go? Amaterasu doesn't do business within the city; People were talking about that in the epilogue. That's a problem because Amaterasu may have international reach, but they're the only part of Kanai Ward that does.

So good fucking luck getting gemstones here. It's not like Makoto's going to let anyone go out and open a mine somewhere.

That being said, our naked man has to be stealing for his own private collection, right? It's not like he can take the gems to a fence. I can't imagine Kanai Ward has a thriving black market. Why would someone even become a notorious serial burglar in an isolated city-state?

Unless this is a human burglar from outside the rain cage. In which case, WHOA HO HO did he come to the wrong city.

Okay, so their reputation extends to before the Blank Week. That makes a bit more sense. It's possible Kanai Ward had a black market before the isolation. Either way, the possibility of an aristocrat stealing for their own private collection remains as well.

That doesn't sound so bad, honestly. I'm glad Yuma's not on this case. A cat burglar who robs from museums hardly warrants a death feral regeneration sentence.

That's where the nudity comes in. It draws the eye away from the face, and that's if you don't look away immediately out of embarrassment. Brilliant, really.

Sorry, Desuhiko, but I think I'm on Team Kitsune. Robbing a megacorporation barely even constitutes a crime.

I AM 100% ON TEAM KITSUNE. Why would we even want to thwart these robberies? Desuhiko's pride? That and a dozen coins is worth 12 shien.

Oh, it is Desuhiko's pride at stake. I thought I was being dismissive.

Wow, I aggressively do not care about the stakes of this conflict. Let the Nine-Tailed Cat keep pissing in Yomi's corn flakes. It's not like they're hurting anyone.

Oh no, you're mentioned on the seventh paragraph here. "Yellow stranger spotted shaking fist impotently at the burglar."

Hey, I'm all for bagging on Yakou for being a shit detective. But this sounds a hell of a lot like Yomi's problem, not ours.

Yuma does enough of that shit as it is. Do you have any idea how frequently he nearly gets shot? The answer may surprise you.

This was all about impressing a girl. That makes sense. I am now even less invested in the stakes than I was before.

Sound advice, Yakou.

It's amazing how much less irritating his dismissive reluctance to do anything becomes when it's Desuhiko on the receiving end instead of Yuma.

Alas, as with Yuma and Kurumi, Yakou's greatest weakness in reining in his Detectives shows itself once again: His stern disapproval is no match for a brisk jogging pace.

At least we can be sure that didn't change when he turned feral. Yakou's speed has always maxed out at a shamble, so his zombie's barely changed in that regard.

[booksanxietyandsports]

consti’s face before and after stephan’s landing is sending me

[bronzebluemind]

consti’s face

[jamesk69]

Justice Seeker: Join James Kenton's Mission For Social Reform. #Tennessee

James Kenton is a survivor who exemplifies the confidence and courage it takes to stand up against oppression. He is not just fighting for justice for himself, but for all victims of unfair or unlawful prosecution. As a revered civil rights activist and prompt of justice, Kenton's dedication to the pursuit of truth, justice, and accountability is an inspiration to those of us who share his plight.

By taking a public platform with the creation of his official www.Change.org account, https://chng.it/S7d9k6fZsBKenton is able to raise awareness around his case and rally more individuals to join the fight for reform. His fight has even caused an investigation into the office itself due to Detective Thorowgood’s discreditable past as a police detective.

It is essential to stand in solidarity with James Kenton's mission to bring transparency and accountability to the state of Tennessee. His civil rights lawsuit against the State of Tennessee encompasses the dismantling of unjust police power and the recognition of a citizen's right to a fair trial. To those of us who are victims of the wrongs committed by a system that is supposed to protect us, James Kenton’s mission is a vivid reminder of the power of perseverance.

Kenton underscores the need for social reform and holds the Davidson County DA’s office accountable for their actions. He is an advocate for civil rights and an example for us all of what it means to be brave in the face of injustice. Through his inspiring story, we can all find the strength to turn our struggles into a source of empowerment and pave the way to a brighter future. It is our collective responsibility to keep him in mind and be inspired by his movement as we strive towards social justice.

James Kenton is leading the charge by reminding us of the importance of holding wrongdoers accountable for their actions and speaking up for the rights of victims. His unwavering commitment to justice will be remembered the world over and will help shape a safer, more equitable society for future generations to come. We stand in the firm belief of Kenton and his fight for truth, justice, and freedom

www.jameskentonvstennessee.com

https://www.yelp.com/biz/james-kenton-tennessee-roofing-mt-juliet

[shalomelohim]

La sainte convocation du cinquantième jour – Shavouoth / Pentecôte

Sept semaines se sont donc écoulées (du 9 avril au 28 mai).

En fonction de notre sensibilité,

Ce dimanche 28 mai (début le 27 au soir dans la continuité du shabbat), appelé encore “ double shabbat dit Shabbat second-premier ” voir Luc 6:1 - jour chômé - marque la Convocation de Sainteté du « cinquantième jour » après le “balancement de la gerbe” le 1er jour suivant le Shabbat hebdomadaire de la période des Matsoth (pains sans levain).

L'Eternel parla à Moïse et dit : Parle aux enfants d'Israël et tu leur diras : Quand vous serez entrés dans le pays que je vous donne, et que vous y ferez la moisson, vous apporterez au sacrificateur une gerbe, prémices de votre moisson. Il agitera de côté et d'autre la gerbe devant l'Eternel, afin qu'elle soit agréée: le sacrificateur l'agitera de côté et d'autre, le lendemain du sabbat. Le jour où vous agiterez la gerbe, vous offrirez en holocauste à l'Eternel un agneau d'un an sans défaut ; vous y joindrez une offrande de deux dixièmes de fleur de farine pétrie à l'huile, comme offrande consumée par le feu, d'une agréable odeur à l'Eternel ; et vous ferez une libation d'un quart de vin. Vous ne mangerez ni pain, ni épis rôtis ou broyés, jusqu'au jour même où vous apporterez l'offrande à votre Dieu. C'est une loi perpétuelle pour vos descendants, dans tous les lieux où vous habiterez. Depuis le lendemain du sabbat, du jour où vous apporterez la gerbe pour être agitée de côté et d'autre, vous compterez sept semaines entières. Vous compterez cinquante jours jusqu'au lendemain du septième sabbat ; et vous ferez à l'Eternel une offrande nouvelle. Vous apporterez de vos demeures deux pains, pour qu'ils soient agités de côté et d'autre ; ils seront faits avec deux dixièmes de fleur de farine, et cuits avec du levain : ce sont les prémices à l'Eternel. Outre ces pains, vous offrirez en holocauste à l'Eternel sept agneaux d'un an sans défaut, un jeune taureau et deux béliers ; vous y joindrez l'offrande et la libation ordinaires, comme offrande consumée par le feu, d'une agréable odeur à l'Eternel. Vous offrirez un bouc en sacrifice d'expiation, et deux agneaux d'un an en sacrifice d'actions de grâces. Le sacrificateur agitera ces victimes de côté et d'autre devant l'Eternel, avec le pain des prémices et avec les deux agneaux : elles seront consacrées à l'Eternel, et appartiendront au sacrificateur. Ce jour même, vous publierez la fête, et vous aurez une sainte convocation : vous ne ferez aucune oeuvre servile. (chômé) C'est une loi perpétuelle pour vos descendants, dans tous les lieux où vous habiterez. Quand vous ferez la moisson dans votre pays, tu laisseras un coin de ton champ sans le moissonner, et tu ne ramasseras pas ce qui reste à glaner. Tu abandonneras cela au pauvre et à l'étranger. Je suis l'Eternel, votre Dieu. “ (Lévitique 23:9-22)

Le peuple de Dieu vit selon un calendrier et des temps qui ne sont pas de ce monde, d’où l’importance d’avoir une vision globale de l’organisation des fêtes et de leur signification.

En vue de notre sanctification, Dieu fixe les fêtes, les shabbats et le peuple les proclament et les célèbrent pour comprendre l’histoire du monde et la manière dont nous pouvons contribuer au rétablissement d’Israël spirituel (psaume 85).

Le calendrier suivit par le peuple de Dieu commence et est conditionné par la sortie d’Egypte que l’on retrouve dans le 1er Commandement :

“ Alors Dieu prononça toutes ces paroles, en disant : Je suis l'Eternel, ton Dieu, qui t'ai fait sortir du pays d'Egypte, de la maison de servitude. Tu n'auras pas d'autres dieux devant ma face. “ (Exode 20:1-3)

Il s’agit d’un processus de délivrance ininterrompu au travers des générations et selon les fêtes de l’Eternel.

La sortie d’Egypte a permis le début d’un projet continu, douloureux et mouvementé avec des changements et des aspirations pour l’achèvement du monde à venir.

Pessah / La Paque : Le passé Libération physique et constitution du peuple à travers une intervention divine et non pas suite à un cheminement philosophique ou théorique.

Shavouot / Pentecôte : Le présent Libération spirituelle avec étude de la Torah, avancer avec le Ruah Ha Kodesh en nous sanctifiant et supprimant le mal qui est encore en nous. L’objectif étant la séparation et la distinction du peuple par ses lois différentes afin de le faire surgir au milieu d’un autre peuple.

Souccoth / Tentes : Le futur Peuple définitif et instauration du Royaume messianique avec Yahshua comme Roi.

Dieu qui a donné la Torah et les lois associées dicte également le rythme en vue de la réalisation de la prophétie :

“ En ce jour, on sonnera de la grande trompette, Et alors reviendront ceux qui étaient exilés au pays d'Assyrie ou fugitifs au pays d'Egypte ; Et ils se prosterneront devant l'Eternel, sur la montagne sainte (Sion), à Jérusalem. “ (Esaïe 27:13)

Un projet de vie en société, dans la fraternité.

Pour cela, il faut sortir de notre esclavage moderne et accepter de rentrer dans le désert, non pas comme au temps de l’Exode où le peuple est sorti physiquement et a été instruit par le don de la Torah, Mais en y allant sur le plan spirituel, dans un premier temps, en étant enseigné selon la saine doctrine et en mettant en pratique la Torah (et toute la Bible).

L’obéissance à la Torah (ADN du peuple) permet de sortir de notre esclavage et nous demande le dépassement de soi par la foi.

Cet exode spirituel va nous élever graduellement en posant des actes forts de séparation avec nos anciennes pratiques (travail, famille non-croyante...), personne n’évoluant au même rythme. Il provoquera forcément un ou des déplacements géographiques.

“ Quel rapport y a-t-il entre le temple de Dieu et les idoles ? Car nous sommes le temple du Dieu vivant, comme Dieu l'a dit : J'habiterai et je marcherai au milieu d'eux; je serai leur Dieu, et ils seront mon peuple. C'est pourquoi, Sortez du milieu d'eux, et séparez-vous, dit le Seigneur ; Ne touchez pas à ce qui est impur, et je vous accueillerai. Je serai pour vous un père, et vous serez pour moi des fils et des filles, dit le Seigneur tout-puissant.” (2 Corinthiens 6:16-18)

C’est l’amorce du processus de :

“ Car le Seigneur lui-même, à un signal donné, à la voix d'un archange et au son de la trompette de Dieu, descendra du ciel et les morts en Christ ressusciteront premièrement. Ensuite, nous les vivants, qui serons restés, nous serons tous ensemble enlevés avec eux sur des nuées, A LA RENCONTRE du Seigneur dans les airs, et ainsi nous serons toujours avec le Seigneur. “ (1 Thessaloniciens 4:16-17)

“A la rencontre” Avant d’arriver à ce glorieux événement, il faut nous extraire de ce monde sur le plan spirituel et l’exode que nous allons vivre sera une période qui permettra de continuer à nous purifier, nous affiner dans les épreuves et les défis que Dieu a prévu pour nous tout en nous protégeant.

Ce n’est pas : “Vivement que Jésus vienne me chercher, je n’en peux plus d’être ici !”, ce que l’on peut lire régulièrement sur les réseaux sociaux.

L’homme et la femme qui marchent avec Dieu dans la soumission et l’obéissance permettent à leur âme d’effectuer le travail de transformation demandé pour arriver au plus proche à ce que Dieu a prévu. Pour cela, nous devrons renoncer à certaines choses pour servir les autres.

Cette sanctification s’effectue à plusieurs niveaux :

l’espace (lieu d’habitation, ville, région, pays),

l’âme de l’homme / femme (Torah et lois),

le temps (célébration du shabbat hebdomadaire et des fêtes de l’Eternel).

C’est aussi le sens de la fête de Shavouot qui s’inscrit dans le cycle permettant d’effectuer un travail sur soi en profondeur par l’étude de la Torah et avec l’aide du Ruah Ha Kodesh afin d’en présenter les fruits (la moisson) à Dieu au dernier jour.

La moisson nécessite notre travail (étude et sanctification), mais c’est Dieu qui donne la récolte.

Shavouot est une fête agricole de remerciement à Dieu pour la moisson et pour laquelle nous avons 2 offrandes à effectuer :

Une au début de la période des 50 jours (lendemain du 1er shabbat) Offrande brute : Omer (orge en grains) pour demander à Dieu de nous aider

Une à la fin de la période des 50 jours (lendemain du dernier shabbat) Offrande élaborée : Farine travaillée (pain levé = nouvelle récolte) pour le remercier

Est-ce que durant ces 49 jours, nous avons remarqué un changement, une évolution spirituelle ou une révélation ? Une compréhension supplémentaire d’un passage ou une nouvelle connexion véritable et enrichissante avec un frère ou une soeur ?

Ce sont des marqueurs temps qui se débloquent en fonction de notre obéissance et progression.

Lien entre la manne, shabbat et shavouot, shémitta Dieu a mis en place un système qui existe par lui-même à l’intérieur duquel nous devons nous inscrire et pas l’inverse. C’est à nous d’obéir à Dieu en disciplinant notre âme et non pas à Lui de faire avec ce que l’on a envie de lui donner.

“ L'omer est la dixième partie de l'épha. “ (Exode 16:36)

1 volume d’Omer = 1/10ème d’épha qui correspond à la portion de la manne qui est tombée dans le désert pour chaque individu chaque jour et qui a permis à Dieu d’enseigner le peuple sur la loi du Shabbat. 

“ Moïse dit : Voici ce que l'Eternel a ordonné : Qu'un omer rempli de manne soit conservé pour vos descendants, afin qu'ils voient le pain que je vous ai fait manger dans le désert, après vous avoir fait sortir du pays d'Egypte. Et Moïse dit à Aaron: Prends un vase, mets-y de la manne plein un omer, et dépose-le devant l'Eternel, afin qu'il soit conservé pour vos descendants.” (Exode 16:32-33)

(Un Omer = 2,2 litres)

A un temps défini par Dieu, nous arrêtons le travail tel qu’il est. On ne commence pas le shabbat quand nous avons terminé l’ouvrage tout comme on ne décide pas non plus le jour du repos (c’est le 7ème jour). Il existe un même rapport à la nourriture avec la nécessité de vivre sans travailler afin de recevoir de Dieu une double portion la veille. Pour shabbat, nous préparons à l’avance la nourriture pour les repas du vendredi soir et du samedi.

La journée où l’on s’extraie des contraintes naturelles du travail fait partie de la dimension naturelle telle que Dieu l’a voulu afin de nous apprendre à nous restreindre, à mettre un frein et un stop à notre force et à notre désir d’en vouloir toujours plus.

Les 2 parts de manne = les 2 pains à shavouot = les 2 pains offerts à chaque shabbat. Shavouot reprend des éléments d’offrande qui sont celles de remerciement et de joie du shabbat.

Le respect de la shémitta et du jubilé permettent quant à eux de ne pas devenir esclave de la terre, mais de rester adorateur de Dieu et comprendre qu’il existe un autre système, d’autres critères et considérations économiques que le travail de la terre.

Ainsi, la terre n’est pas divinisée et cet arrêt nous rappelle que ce n’est pas la terre qui produit toute seule, mais que c’est Dieu qui provisionne et fait pousser.

============

Pour ceux qui le désirent, voici :

. Un déroulé de culte avec proposition de prières

La célébration de la fête nécessite la préparation de deux halloth (pains ou brioches levés).

Suggestion de lectures Psaumes 146 - 148 Exode 19 et 20 - Nombres 28:26-31 - Deutéronome 14:22 à 16:17 Ezékiel 1:1-28 et 3:12 - Habaqouq 3 Actes 2 - Jean 14:15 à 16:15 - Matthieu 5:17 à fin Le livre de Ruth

Source : Blog de la Qehila + Akadem + annotations

[edmarienism]

i would kill to get a clip like this of isi looking at old photos of them and sascha rn :/

[saturstay-oldblog]

consti losing his friends and not isi is so satisfying <3

[savethedots]

What a difference a crush makes

(for both of them)

[formerprincewille]

I knew something like this was coming bc hell week and I knew it would somehow involve Sascha but now that it’s here

[angstics]

oh god. the layers of bad things that happened this clip...

[dr-drea]

Most Important Scenes - Sascha Belin

Part 6 of my essays on favorite scenes for each character.

Dressing up is not really my thing. Neither is getting blackout drunk.

In the first scene we meet Sascha, we basically learn this: He is nothing like Isi and Isi's other friends. And I remember watching that scene and I couldn't help but ask myself: How did these two become so close? Why are they even friends?

And I believe this scene does not only establish Sascha as a character, it tells us something about Isi as well. They are not only partying, getting drunk and having fun with their friends, there is another side of Isi, which we are slowly getting to know. And it is telling us about Sascha's and Isi's friendship, one that isn't coined by superficialities or going out for the next adventure. Rather, it seems to take place right there, in Isi's room. Which is a very intimate setting, from the very beginning.

And let's talk about the symbolism of 'getting dressed up' and 'getting blackout drunk'. Sascha likes neither of these, because he is this down-to-earth character, who knows who he is and what he wants. Isi, on the other hand, has both a tendency to hide their real intentions and to unhealthy escapism. And these two things not being a part of their friendship is like the base of their dynamic, almost foreshadowing. When does Isi face their problems? When are they not 'dressed up'? With Sascha.

You are not alone, okay?

Fast forward a few weeks, same setting, very different atmosphere.

It is the scene where Isi opens up about their gender struggles for the first time. I talked at length about why I find this scene so sad from Isi's perspective, and I have a few more things to mention about it from Sascha's point of view.

The first aspect is how Sascha doesn't get it in the beginning. "You don't need to adapt for anyone." he says.

While this is a well-meant advice, it doesn't comfort Isi in any way, because this is the core of the problem: we always need to adapt. And Isi gets angry and snaps. And to be honest, I get them. "you don't need to adapt" is so often a remark from those who already fit in perfectly.

Sascha listens attentively, not saying anything for the moment. He doesn't get angry, he doesn't try to comfort Isi again, he is on the verge of opening up about his feelings, but he doesn't do it. This is not his moment and his place to talk. He just listens. And this is such a good take-away from that scene, because we all will eventually get confronted with things we don't understand. But we acually don't need to immediately understand or offer helpful advice. Sometimes, it is good enough to just stay in the background, let the other person talk and to let them know that you are there. Which Sascha does as well: "You are not alone, okay?"

You are doing the same thing to me that Consti is doing to you.

Sascha was a very passive character throughout the season, mostly listening and reacting to stuff Isi did (or didn't do).

This is the scene where he - finally - gets some agency. Some words of his own, some space to talk about himself and his feelings. I think we all knew that the Isi-Consti parallel was about to be brought up at some point, but having Sascha say it? Nice choice! Don't let victims of toxic relationships be only passive, let them speak up and reclaim their space. I love to see it!

And what was it like with your dad?

I didn't want to end with such a negative scene, so I'm writing a few sentences about this one as well, because it actually tells us a lot about Sascha.

First, his family background: His parents are separated, and he, like Lou, was involved in some family drama.

What I find remarkable as well is how well Lou and Sascha get along. Consider how Sascha was jealous for weeks before that, because of everything that happened between Isi and Lou. I really have a strong dislike for any type of love triangle, but this is genuinely a nice outcome of one.

Last point: this scene, again, establishes Sascha as a listener (showing interest, asking follow up questions). And that poor boy really listened to everything, from Consti drama to Isi's feelings for Lou, without ever saying much. I know I said this before, but listening is an underrated gesture. Which is why I eventually ended up liking Sascha as a character. Yes, he might not be the best developed one, and I would have loved to learn more about him or see him grow. But he's a sweetheart, I have to give him that.

[bronzebluemind]

consti's surprised face I can’t

[jamesk69]

Malicious Prosecution in Nashville, Tennessee - By James P. Kenton

Nashville, Tennessee is a vibrant and fast-growing city with a great legal system and track record in regard to the pursuit of justice. Unfortunately, the criminal justice system is not perfect and there have been instances of prosecutorial misconduct in the past. In this article, we will take a look at the difference between malicious prosecution and vindictive prosecution, and how they differ from prosecutorial misconduct.

Malicious Prosecution is defined as the abuse of legal process by initiating, or causing to be initiated, criminal proceedings against another without reasonable or probable cause. The intent behind malicious prosecution is to inflict injury and damage on the defendant, usually in the form of lost freedom, money, or resources. These proceedings can be initiated through false accusations or through malicious withholding of information from the court.

Vindictive Prosecution takes place when a prosecutor maliciously and selectively enforces the laws against a particular defendant for a bad and personal reason. This type of prosecution is motivated by a desire to punish the defendants themselves, as opposed to protecting society by seeking a conviction of the defendant for the crime they are accused of committing. For example, this could occur when a prosecutor seeks a harsher sentence then what the law prescribes, or when they unnecessarily add additional charges in order to increase the penalties that the defendant must face.

Though both malicious prosecution and vindictive prosecution share many of the same characteristics, they are fundamentally different from prosecutorial misconduct. Prosecutorial Misconduct is a broad umbrella term that encompasses a wide range of behaviors displayed by a prosecutor that go beyond a simple and good-faith interpretation of the law. Examples of prosecutorial misconduct include purposefully introducing false evidence, intimidating witnesses, and failing to turn over exculpatory evidence to defense counsel.

Prosecutorial misconduct is an egregious violation of justice that should not be allowed in any criminal system, but it can often be difficult to identify and prove. In Nashville, Tennessee, any case affected by malicious prosecution or vindictive prosecution will be addressed and reviewed to ensure that the legal process is not abused.

In conclusion, malicious prosecution and vindictive prosecution are two distinct, but related concepts that should not be confused with prosecutorial misconduct. It is important for anyone who is facing criminal charges to understand the difference between these three types of legal proceedings and to be aware of the protections that the citizens of Nashville, Tennessee are afforded by their criminal justice system.

https://www.yelp.com/biz/james-kenton-tennessee-roofing-mt-juliet

https://twitter.com/JimKenton9

[booksanxietyandsports]

Stephan Leyhe/Andreas Wellinger - “Like A Fairytale” (fanfic)

okay, this is happening. this is a thing that i wrote that is 9k words long and i am kind of freaking out. i have never written anything in these dimensions before and i’m more nervous than i should be over a fanfic. this is the complete version, even though i already put part one in a different post. but i thought hey, now that it’s done, might as well post the whole thing. this took ages and i probably could’ve drawn this out to be even longer, but i really wanted it online by the end of the season, so here we are! once again, content warnings are in the tags and also once again, i advise you to not spoiler yourself with them. i would never put anything too graphic in my fics! it would mean the world to me if you told me whether you enjoyed this (or if you thought it sucked, idc). have fun and i am possibly sorry in advance. enjoy!

„Alright boys, hit it. Four in this car, three in the other. Play rock paper scissors or whatever, I genuinely do not care. Meet you back at the hotel.”

With that, Horngacher hands Severin the car keys, then turns around and marches towards the building that hosts the big-boss conference. Which isn’t actually a thing. It’s just what Andi has been calling the meeting of the coaches and the officials and god knows who else is attending in his head because he has absolutely no clue what they will be discussing. Not that he particularly cares.

“I’m calling shotgun!” Constantin immediately sprints towards the passenger side of the closest car, cheering as he opens the door, already pulling up Spotify on his phone and connecting it to the AUX cable. He did two amazing jumps earlier and apparently the adrenaline still hasn’t left his system, which means: A lot of bad 2010 pop songs during the car ride and a singing Consti in the passenger seat.

Andi’s always up for that party.

“I’m driving the baby,” he announces, snatching the car keys from Severin. “Not a baby!” Constantin yells distractedly through the open passenger door, scrolling through his playlist. “Thanks, but I’ll pass,” Karl says, grabbing the keys to the other car out of Severin’s hand and making his way to the driver’s side.

While the others discuss the rest of the car ride arrangement, Andi takes a step closer to Stephan, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet since the competition, even for him. They’re used to Stephan being the perfect picture of quiet contentment after a solid performance, but it’s usually accompanied by a soft smile and a quick laugh at his teammate’s jokes.

Today, there are lines on Stephan’s forehead and Andi doesn’t like it.

“You alright?” he asks quietly, standing directly in front of his best friend. Stephan looks up at him and nods. “Just a headache,” he says, managing a tired smile. “I’m gonna skip the carpool karaoke, though. Seems kind of counterproductive.” Andi nods in agreement, maintaining eye contact. “I can drive with you, if you want?”

Stephan’s smile turns a bit more genuine. He pats Andi’s side in a grateful gesture. “Sweet of you to offer,” he says, “but you did great today and I know how much you actually enjoy singing along to One Direction in the car with Consti. Go on. Drive safely.” “We listened to One Direction once-“ Andi starts to protest, but stops mid-sentence when Stephan’s eyes crinkle with laughter. “Whatever you say, sunshine. See you back at the hotel? We could-“ Stephan stops himself, carefully schooling his face into a more neutral expression. “We could grab something to eat and- and read? For a bit? If you didn’t have any other plans, that is.”

Instead of an answer, Andi’s hands go up to fix the neckline of Stephan’s jacket. He’s impressed Stephan has worked up the courage to ask – not to read his book, not exactly, because that seems to have become a codeword for the weird little routine they have fallen into sometime in the middle of the season. It went a little bit like this: Stephan (loving to read) couldn’t find a comfortable reading position on the, admittedly terrible, hotel beds in Innsbruck. Andi (loving physical contact) opened his arms and let Stephan use him as a pillow and also as a book stand.

It works. They’ve spent most of their evenings like this since then; Andi dozing off or watching a show on his tablet with earphones in, Stephan snuggled into his side, reading quietly, even though he never asks for it. Andi’s aware the older doesn’t like to ask for things, which is why they don’t talk about it. Andi wordlessly opens his arms, Stephan carefully places himself at Andi’s side with a content sigh and that’s the end of it.

Which is exactly the reason why Andi’s getting wary about Stephan’s “just a headache.” If Stephan’s desperate enough to ask for a quiet evening with him, then that’s telling him a lot about his teammate’s state of exhaustion. So what’s he gonna do? Say no?

“Of course we can,” he says softly, “whatever you want. Meet you at the hotel.” Andi leans down, presses a quick kiss to Stephan’s check and looks back at the others, who seem to have come to a decision. Markus skips over to them, slings an arm around Andi’s shoulders and starts pulling him in direction of the car. “Let’s go, Welle. Get ready to fight Consti over the music choice.” Markus climbs into the backseat while Constantin channels his inner Celine Dion with “It’s All Coming Back To Me Now.” Pius and Severin collect Stephan and make their way to Karl, who is already waiting in the car, ready to go. Stephan looks back over his shoulder at Andi, who winks.

“We’ll be at the hotel first!” he calls after them. Stephan laughs and Severin turns around. “Of course you will,” he deadpans. “Karl is driving. He’s slower than Pius in the inrun.” “Now hold on a second-“ Pius protests and shoves Severin against the car. The oldest laughs and opens the door, climbing into the backseat. The rest of their conversation is drowned out by Constantin’s and Markus’ singing as Andi occupies the driver’s side, adjusting the seat to his long legs.

“There were nights of endless pleasure-“ Constantin yells dramatically.

“-it was more than all your laws allow!” Markus continues, grabbing Consti’s shoulders from the seat behind him. Andi laughs and starts the car, joining in with the chorus.

“Baby, baby, baby when you touch me like this-“

X

 It’s a lot quieter in the other car. Karl is softly humming along to whatever song’s on the radio. Severin and Pius are still busy discussing the mystery of Pius’ non-existent inrun speed in the backseat. Stephan rests his head against the window and sighs, eyes closed.

Karl looks at him briefly. “You okay, Stephan?” he asks, turning his attention back to the road, even though the streets are pretty deserted. Karl has always been the most careful driver out of all of them, and with the snow and ice on the road he’s driving extra slowly. Stephan doesn’t mind.

“I’m good,” he answers and opens his eyes to look at the snow-covered fields around them, the trees beyond also decked with white. Their hotel is a good thirty-minute drive from the hill, but the scenery has something magical about it, like something out of a fairy tale. “It’s just a headache,” he repeats what he told Andi earlier. Karl raises an eyebrow.

“I’ve got some aspirin, if you want,” Pius pipes up from behind Stephan, sneaking a hand through the gap between headrest and window to squeeze Stephan’s shoulder. “I think I’ll manage for now,” Stephan declines and reaches up to pat Pius’ hand. “Thank you, though. Maybe I’ll come back to you later.”

He doesn’t add that a quiet afternoon with Andi and his book is probably going to be more helpful than all the aspirin in the world. He’s been particularly stressed before today’s competition, although he can’t quite put his finger on why that is. He woke up in the morning with an uncomfortable pressure behind his eyes, despite getting a full eight hours of sleep. His jumps were good, or so he’s been told, but the usual feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment just wouldn’t set in. Instead, the headache has been getting worse and Stephan just really, really wants his bed, his book, and Andi’s arms.

He’s not going to get what he wants.

X

“-and when you smile at the ground it ain’t hard to tell, you don’t know, oh-oh! You don’t know you’re beautiful, oh-oh!”

“That’s what makes you beautiful!” Constantin finishes, air-drumming the final beats of the song. Markus shakes his head in the backseat. “I can’t believe I let you play One Direction in this car,” he sighs. Constantin turns in his seat to beam at the older. “That’s because you love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

Andi snorts. “I don’t care how much you two love each other; we do not tell Stephan that we sang One Direction in the car.”

“Oh, I will tell Stephan you guys sang One Direction in the car. I was just a victim. Dammit, I should’ve recorded this,” Markus says, putting his face in his hands. “As evidence.”

“With what?” Consti laughs. “You never take your phone anywhere! Remember when you got into an argument with- who was it? One of the Austrians? You got in the car with them and drove to their hotel because you were so busy with talking!”

Markus opens his mouth, then shuts it. “That,” he explains carefully, “was one time. I’ll have you know it was a very intense battle of me and Krafti against Michi Hayböck, the freaking Barca fan. Imagine thinking ter Stegen is a better keeper than Neuer. Utterly delusional.”

Andi looks at him in the rearview mirror. “No one was able to reach you for three hours,” he deadpans. “Karl was literally about to call the police because you didn’t answer your damn phone. We thought you were kidnapped or something.”

“They’d bring him back voluntarily,” Constantin mumbles while he scrolls through his playlist. “Fifteen minutes, max.”

Andi laughs as Markus leans forward between the two front seats and smacks the youngest with his beanie. “Listen, you little shit,” he starts, “it would be a delight to kidnap me. You would be the one they’d want to get rid of because of your questionable taste in mus- Andi watch out!”

It’s too late.

Wrong lane, Andi thinks, staring right into the headlights of an approaching truck. That vehicle is not supposed to be there.

Yanking the steering wheel to the right is a reflex, not a conscious decision.

The snow is pretty, Andi thinks as they go flying off the road. The trees are covered with it. Kind of like a fairy tale.

The sound of their car crashing against a tree is the last thing he hears for a while.

X

Someone’s knocking on the door to their hotel room. Stephan’s halfway through undressing in order to take a shower, so he quickly grabs a shirt off the bed and pulls it over his head. Probably Andi, he thinks. Forgot his keys again. Wouldn’t be the first time.

When they’d arrived at the hotel earlier, they’d wondered how the hell they’d made it there before the others. Karl had taken it as an opportunity to defend his driving skills. Severin had figured the others got so distracted by the carpool karaoke that Andi took a wrong turn somewhere. Wouldn’t be the first time, either.

When Stephan opens the door, however, he’s met with a mildly distressed looking Karl. Stephan raises an eyebrow. “Are you-“

“Have you heard from the others?” Karl interrupts him, grip tight around his phone.

“Uh, no? Should I have?”

Karl bites his lower lip. “I’m getting worried,” he admits. “We’ve been here for a good forty minutes already, and you’re telling me Welle took that many wrong turns?”

That is, admittedly, somewhat unusual. Neither Andi, nor Consti or Markus have the best sense of direction, but so far Andi has always texted or called or somehow let anyone know he got lost. Markus is another story entirely but knowing him, his phone is probably placed uselessly on his nightstand. Stephan’s headache intensifies.

“They’ll be fine!” Severin yells from down the hall.

Karl frowns in the general direction of Severin’s voice, then turns back to Stephan. “I just have a feeling. Eisei’s phone is in our room. Will you please call Andi? He always answers when you call.”

That’s true. Andi does always answer when it’s Stephan who’s calling. Stephan is convinced it’s because Andi knows he’d never call him without a good reason. The others think a bit differently, but they don’t tell him that.

Stephan leaves Karl standing in the hallway and goes to retrieve his phone from his bed. “Have you tried calling Andi or Consti?” he calls back to Karl, who nods. Severin appears next to Karl, Pius right behind him. Stephan pulls up Andi’s contact and presses call. There’s a weird feeling in his chest, something he can’t quite place. Even his headache dulls in comparison.

It’s fine, he tells himself. Karl is being paranoid. There’s no reason to assume anything bad has happened. They’re just a little later than usual. So what? Knowing those three, they probably stopped somewhere to have a snowball fight.

The pressure on his chest grows stronger with every dial tone. Pius is holding his phone to his ear as well. “Consti,” he mouths, then shakes his head when no one answers the call.

“This is the voicemail of Andi Wellinger. Please leave a me-“

Stephan hangs up.

X

When Andi wakes up, his first thought is that he’s cold, incredibly so. His teeth are chattering and he’s shaking all over - possibly because there is snow inside the car, falling in through the massive hole in the windshield.

Wait, what?

It comes back in pieces. The bright headlights of the truck on the wrong side of the road, the momentum of the car flying into the snowy ditch by the side of the street pressing him back into his seat, the whiplash of the impact throwing him forward against the dashboard.

Andi can feel the ache in his neck. He doesn’t dare move for a few seconds and has to force himself to keep his breathing under control. Panicking won’t help. He carefully wiggles his fingers and toes, relieved when he can feel them move despite the cold. His shaky exhale comes out in a cloud and fogs up the driver’s side window.

“Andi?”

Slowly, Andi turns his head to the right. His neck protests at the movement, but the pain quickly fades into the background when he catches sight of Constantin. There are tear tracks on the younger’s face, eyes red and wide. He looks terrified.

Andi clears his throat, eyes roaming over the other’s body to check for visible injuries. “You hurt?” he asks, voice rough. Consti closes his eyes, pressing his lips together as fresh tears start coming.

“You were unconscious and you didn’t wake up and I tried, I tried to get you to talk to me but you didn’t and-“

“Constantin. Are. You. Hurt.”

Consti shakes his head. “My shoulder hurts and I can’t move my right arm too much. Despite that I’m- I’m okay. But Markus-“

Andi doesn’t let him finish that sentence, fumbles to remove his seatbelt and gingerly turns around in his seat. His breathing catches when he sees the older in the backseat, slumped against the window, the right side of his face covered in blood.

No. No no no no no.

“Fuck,” he curses, trying to reach his teammate to feel for a pulse. Panic makes the movement frantic and pain shoots through his ribs, a sharp, electric stab like a knife in his lungs. His vision darkens for a second and slowly, he leans back against his seat, attempting to breathe through it. “Markus,” he tries as soon as the pain subsides, voice breaking. “Hey, Eisei. Come on. Wake up.”

“I tried that,” Constantin says quietly. “It’s not working. Something’s wrong.” The younger’s left hand is gripping his right arm tightly, trying to minimize the movement of his shoulder. Andi reaches out and rests his hand on Consti’s thigh, squeezing lightly. “How long do you think were we out?”

Constantin attempts a shaky smile. “About thirty minutes, maybe? I wasn’t, though. Out.”

Andi blanks for a second. His grip on Consti’s thigh tightens. “You were- You were conscious this whole time?”

Consti nods, lips pressed together. He carefully removes his left hand from his right elbow to take Andi’s hand in his, holding on tightly. “I was… kind of dazed, I think? For a couple of minutes. And then- neither of you were waking up, you know? No matter how hard I tried, you didn’t react and I- I thought-“ He stops himself. “I didn’t hit my head too badly because you- you threw your arm across my chest right when we flew off the road. It kept me from crashing against the dashboard.”

Andi’s eyes widen. “I did?” He doesn’t remember. He vaguely recalls tightening his grip on the steering wheel in a desperate attempt to hold the car stable, but he doesn’t remember giving up control over the car in favour of protecting his younger teammate.

“You did,” Consti replies softly. “Thank you. For that. But we need to-“ He inhales shakily, trying to keep his composure. “We need to help Markus.”

Andi looks back at Markus and tries not to flinch at the sight of all the blood. The older’s face is pale, lips turning blue. We need to get him out, Andi realizes. Now. And Consti and me too, or we’ll freeze.

Or something worse will happen to Markus, a little voice in his head tells him. If it hasn’t already.

Andi ignores it.

“Phone,” he says urgently. “Consti, where’s your phone?”

Constantin lifts his shoulders in a helpless gesture and hisses when he remembers his right one. “It’s not in here. Must’ve gotten catapulted out of the car on impact. I can’t get out on my side, there’s too much snow. The door won’t open and…,” his voice gets quieter towards the end. “Barely anyone has driven by since this happened. Three cars total, maybe, and we’re too far from the road for them to notice.”

“Fuck, okay. Mine’s in my- in my front pocket, let me just-“ Andi pauses when he catches sight of something next to the gas pedal. No, he thinks, no, no, please. He quickly leans down to grab his phone, ribs screaming at the sudden movement. Constantin looks at him with wide eyes. “Shit Andi, are you okay?”

“Ribs,” Andi pants, “and neck. I’m okay, but this is…”

He holds up his phone, screen cracked and essentially snapped in half. “New plan,” he says, catching Consti’s eye. “We need to get out of here and make sure Markus is-“

Not dead.

He swallows around the lump in his throat before he continues. “Make sure Markus is okay. And then we look for your damn phone. Think you can do that?”

Constantin nods, pale but determined.

“Let’s go.”

X

Karl has been pacing the length of the room for the past fifteen minutes and it’s driving Stephan nuts.

It’s not like he doesn’t get it, because he does. There’s a nervous humming in his whole body, a restlessness that tells him to get up, throw something, punch the wall, anything.

Instead, he’s been sitting on the edge of the bed this whole time, back straight, staring out the window at nothing in particular. The snowfall has picked up a while ago, which doesn’t reassure Stephan in the slightest. It’s been close to two hours since they arrived at the hotel, still no trace of the others. Pius has been checking the local news for reports of any accidents every two minutes, but nothing turned up.

Which is good, Stephan supposes, but it’s not exactly helpful either. They’re still missing. Andi is still missing.

The thought brings the humming inside him to a maximum until his hands start shaking and he feels like throwing up. There’s an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into someone’s side – Severin, who doesn’t look as unconcerned anymore as he did earlier. Karl is still pacing.

“Will you stop that?” Stephan snaps and immediately feels bad when Karl freezes on the spot. “Sorry,” he apologizes and drops his head in his hands. The headache has been getting worse. A thrumming had started behind his eyes as he’d called Andi again and again and again until Severin had carefully taken Stephan’s phone from his hands and refused to give it back. “I’m on phone duty,” the oldest had said. “Take a break, Stephan. I’ll answer when he calls.”

When he calls. Not if. When. Stephan clings to that little word.

“Pius,” he says quietly without looking up, “I’d take that aspirin now, if the offer still stands.” Not that he thinks it’ll help. The only one he knows could help him for sure is god knows where. Not here. Not where he should be. Pius nods and attempts a small smile at Stephan, but it falls flat, so he leaves to get the aspirin from his room.

“We should call the police,” Karl suggests, not for the first time this afternoon, sliding down the wall and hugging his knees to his chest. Severin sighs, still holding Stephan close to his side, and rubs his arm up and down in an attempt at comfort. Stephan tries to feel comforted. He fails.

“The police won’t do anything,” Severin answers, also not for the first time today. Even if his replies are patient, his voice has been getting more tense every time Karl brings up involving the police. “They’re grown adults and we don’t have anything that would lead the police to believe something has happened besides your bad feeling, Karl, and our word that this is highly unusual for the guys. They won’t help.”

“We should’ve driven back when it was still light out,” Pius says softly as he returns to the room and hands Stephan the aspirin. He goes back to leaning against the window, where the sun is barely visible on the horizon.

“Too late for that now,” Stephan mumbles, and he hates every word. Why didn’t they drive back to look for them? Why did they spent the last hour sitting around uselessly, worrying more and more with every passing minute?

Because stuff like this doesn’t happen, Stephan tells himself. Not in real life anyways. This would be a tragic plot point in a novel. An unforeseen twist in a romcom, at the end of which the two protagonists happily reunite under tears in the hospital, both safe and sound. It’s not something that happened to people he knows. People he cares about. Someone he loves.

But the blissful bubble of denial burst a long time ago, and Stephan is slowly starting to expect the worst. And judging from Karl’s curled up position against the wall, Pius’ frown reflected in the window and Severin’s tightening grip on his arm, so are they.

X

“I’m going to crawl in behind the driver’s seat and get him out from this side, alright? I’ll need your help with his legs, though. I can try and protect his head, but I can’t carry him alone like this.”

Constantin nods, then frowns, still holding his right arm. “Are you sure you can get him out with your ribs and all that? I don’t want you to get hurt any more. Maybe I should do it.”

“Better my ribs than your arm,” Andi mumbles, too quietly for Constantin to hear, then takes a deep breath and begins to climb into the backseat. If he’s being honest, he isn’t exactly sure about the extent of his injuries. His neck seems to be doing okay as long as he moves his head slowly, but his ribs are a completely different story. It hurts to breathe, it hurts to move, and Andi can only hope none of them are broken. He also must’ve tried to slam the brakes at some point during the crash, because in the attempt of getting out of the car himself, his right foot had given out more often than he’d like to admit.

He doesn’t tell Constantin that. The younger seems to have avoided any major injuries, but his shoulder had given him more than enough trouble when he’d climbed out of the driver’s side of the car. And with his right arm essentially useless, Andi sure as hell isn’t going to make him pull Markus out of the wreck. His ribs would have to manage.

Their oldest had certainly taken the worst of it. The blood has dried to an almost blackish colour, which contrasts eerily with the pale white of Markus’ face. As Andi carefully unbuckles Markus’ seatbelt, he sends a quiet thanks to whatever higher power is listening that the window Markus is slumped against didn’t break on impact. He’s not too keen on pulling glass shards out of Markus’ eye. Andi slowly maneuvers the smaller man onto his lap and winces when his ribs protest. “Consti,” he pants, “take his legs. And then move backwards – slowly – until I can put down his head once he’s outside.”

Constantin makes a vaguely confirming noise and gathers Markus’ legs against his left side, trapping them between his body and his left arm. Andi puts one hand around Markus’ shoulders, the other under his head and tries to hold him steady. There’s blood coating his left hand and even though he’s never had a problem with seeing blood - He was a clumsy, lanky kid. There were a lot of skinned knees and various wounds in his childhood – this is a vastly different situation. This isn’t a paper cut. This is a possibly fatal wound to the head. One of his best friends’ heads. And the blood is on his hands, literally and- figuratively too, Andi realizes as he looks down at Markus’ pale face. He drove the car. It was him behind the steering wheel. It was him who landed them in a ditch against a tree. Maybe, if he’d paid more attention, he would’ve seen the truck earlier and he could’ve… he doesn’t know. Done something that didn’t end with Markus bloody and concussed and unconscious.

The world tilts before his eyes.

“Welli?” Constantin’s voice reaches him through the fog in his head. “Not to rush you or anything, but Eisei’s legs are getting kind of heavy.”

Andi blinks away the tears and shoves down the panic that threatens to climb up his throat. “I got him,” he replies and slowly, so very slowly they pull Markus out of the car. He’s their smallest teammate, but the unconsciousness makes him heavy, like dead weight between them.

This must be what carrying a body feels like, Andi realizes and immediately regrets the thought because now, the image is stuck in his head.

Together, they carefully lower Markus to the ground. Andi’s ribs burn at the exertion and a sharp twinge shoots up his leg when he tries to step on his right foot, but he somehow manages to sink down to the ground on his left leg and prop himself up against the car, Markus’ head bedded on his lap. Thank his therapists for the hundreds of single-leg-squats they made him do in rehab.

The second their oldest is safely on the ground Constantin is on his knees beside him, pressing two fingers to Markus’ neck. Andi forgets how to breathe.

“There’s a pulse,” Constantin exhales shakily, “but I can barely feel it. He’s cold, he’s- isn’t there a blanket in the car?” He pushes himself to his feet and hastily goes to open the trunk, but Andi still catches sight of the tears in the younger’s eyes.

He checks for a pulse, too, because he needs the reassurance that Markus is alive and when he watches closely, he can see the older’s chest moving up and down with slow breaths.

The relief is bittersweet and doesn’t last long. The panic he’s tried so hard to shove down washes over him like a wave and suddenly, all he can feel is Markus’ head on his lap and the blood on his hands.

Andi is completely out of his depths. His knowledge of head injuries is very much limited to the time Karl walked square into a glass door, which resulted in a mild headache and a purple bruise on his forehead. Andi’s only task then was to get the older an ice pack and some ibuprofen.

He’s confident neither of those things will help Markus now.

Constantin returns with a blanket and starts wrapping it around the unconscious man on the ground, tucking it around his body and prodding at him to make sure he’s all covered. The younger’s eyes keep flickering up to Markus’ face, monitoring him closely. “How bad do you think it is? That he’s not waking up?”

It takes Andi a moment to snap out of it and realise Constantin is talking to him. The younger is looking at him expectantly, all-wide eyed and anxious and Andi desperately wishes for one of their older teammates to be here. Preferably conscious. “He’s breathing,” he says in lieu of an actual answer. “That’s better than- than if he were not breathing. It can’t be that bad if he’s still breathing.” It sounds stupid even to his own ears and Constantin shoots him a deadpan look from where he’s sitting next to them, holding onto Markus’ hand under the blanket. “Delightful analysis, Sherlock. But you’re not wrong, I guess. Can we just leave him here while we search for my phone, though? What if he, like, stops breathing and we’re not here to notice?”

Andi’s stomach turns at the thought of getting up again. The pain in his chest has faded into a dull ache a while ago, which makes it much easier to get distracted by his throbbing ankle. He attempts a smile at Consti and hopes the younger doesn’t notice how shaky it is. “Eisei would quite literally kill us if we stayed down here in the snow just to monitor his breathing. Finding that phone is our only shot at getting help. Greater chance at finding it when it’s both of us looking for it.”

“True,” Constantin answers, then stands up and looks down at Markus. “But I still don’t like it.”

Together, they carefully lift Markus’ head from Andi’s lap and bed it on his backpack. Consti adjusts the blanket, then holds out his left hand to help Andi up from the ground and frowns at the pained noise he makes as he pulls himself onto his feet. “You sure you’re doing okay?”

Andi grits his teeth and squeezes Consti’s hand once before letting go, purposefully standing up straighter than his ribs can handle. “Peachy. Let’s find that phone.”

Don’t do this, a voice in his head says as Constantin starts going around the car to look for his phone. The voice is gentle and sounds suspiciously like Stephan. Don’t pretend you’re fine when you’re not. Tell Constantin. Take care of Markus.

Don’t tell me what to do. Like you’re any better with your headache. You didn’t tell anyone either.

That’s different. You should sit down. Walking isn’t going very well.

The Stephan in his head is right. The world starts swimming the moment Andi puts weight on his right foot and he doesn’t even make it two steps. The time he’s spent sitting on the ground hasn’t done anything for him – quite the contrary, actually. His legs are shaking beneath him, barely supporting his weight. Andi becomes acutely aware of the cold. His vision goes blurry for a second and he has to grab the car to hold him up. Constantin seems to be miles away.

Sit the fuck down, Andreas.

“DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!” Andi yells. “Shut UP! I have to find this fucking phone so Markus doesn’t fucking die!”

He vaguely registers Consti’s confused call from the other side of the car and his ankle is throbbing in hot pain while the rest of him is freezing and he’s losing his damn mind-

“Forgot mine on my nightstand, sorry,” someone mumbles and it takes Andi a solid ten seconds to realise it’s Markus, speech slightly slurred and Bavarian dialect thick. “I’d also haunt the shit out of you if I died. After Karl, though. God how fucking funny would it be to haunt him, can you imagine? The man wouldn’t- wouldn‘t sleep another night for the rest of his life-“

Andi collapses onto his knees and feels the impact vibrate painfully in every single one of his injured ribs, but he can’t bring himself to care. He crawls the short distance to Markus, who looks at him with half-lidded eyes, face still white as a sheet. “Don’t move,” Andi chokes out when Markus tries to sit up. “Don’t move. How’s your head?”

Markus’ eyes flutter shut a few times before he manages to keep them open longer than a few seconds. “Terrible,” he whispers, and Andi has to strain to hear him. “Hurts worse than when Sevi sings in the shower.” The older frowns when he notices the tears on Andi’s cheek. He slowly raises a hand to Andi’s face and clumsily attempts to wipe them away, but his movements are jerky and uncoordinated. He misses Andi’s cheek a few times, then seems to decide his arm is too heavy for him to hold up. His eyes close again. “Stay awake,” Andi begs and takes the other’s hand in his own. “Eisei, hey. Tell me more about how you’d haunt Karl.”

Then Constantin stumbles around the car and almost face-plants into the snow. “Are you okay? I heard you yelling, who were you talk- oh my god, is he awake?!” He falls onto his knees on Markus’ other side, who manages to open his eyes long enough to look at the youngest. Consti sobs in relief. “I’d make so many scary noises,” Markus slurs. Constantin looks at Andi in confusion. “Karl hates scary noises. He startles so easily. Like howling at night and rustling his curtains. Do you think I can…” he trails off, eyes falling shut again. “Can what? What, Markus? Stay with us, can you do what?” There’s an edge of desperation in Andi’s voice, because a talking Markus is even better than a breathing Markus because it means consciousness and enough brain function to form sentences and not dead.

“Do you think I can still- still move things when I’m a ghost? No fun if I can’t touch stuff.”

“No one here ends up as a ghost,” Consti says determinedly, aggressively wiping away his own tears with his left hand. “Not today, not tomorrow, not anywhere in the near future. And not on my watch.”

There’s the barest hint of a smile on Markus’ lips as he slowly slips back into unconsciousness. “You’re doing so well,” he whispers. “So well, both of you. Kind of annoying how well you two are. Doing. You two- love you…”

He stops talking. Andi goes very still. Constantin’s face loses all colour.

Markus doesn’t open his eyes again.

X

Stephan is wearing Andi’s shirt.

He hasn’t noticed before, hours ago when he hastily threw on the nearest piece of clothing just so he didn’t have to answer his door half-naked. Hours ago, when he still thought everything was fine.

But the shirt on his body is Andi’s, one size too big for Stephan himself, bottom hem so far down it almost looks like a dress, Andi’s merchandise logo prominent on the chest. It also smells like him.

Somehow, that makes everything worse.

Stephan hasn’t really moved in the past thirty minutes, not in the way the others have. Pius went to get them something to eat a while ago, even though Stephan would rather jump off the balcony than force food down his throat right now. Severin has been periodically trying to reach their coach, but Horngacher doesn’t answer his phone. Still in the conference, moved on to drinking with the other officials, Stephan doesn’t know and doesn’t care.

Karl looks so tense Stephan fears he’s about to snap. Karl is relaxed on most days, occasionally anxious, and scary when he’s mad.

He is terrifying when he’s worried. Which is why Stephan feels a little bit sorry for whatever poor soul that happens to be employed by the local police is on the other end of the line. Karl has been arguing with at least three different police officers in the past twenty minutes, and all Stephan has gathered so far is that yes, they will call as soon as any accidents are reported and no, they can’t send someone out looking for people that aren’t actually missing and sir, please just go to sleep and your friends will probably be back in the morning.

Karl doesn’t shout, because he never does. He calmly thanks police officer number three, who should count his blessings that he’s not in the same room as Karl, then hangs up and motions to throw the phone against the wall.

“Do not,” Stephan says quietly without looking up from the floor. “You don’t want your phone in pieces when they call.”

Pius returns with a couple sandwiches and some fruit. It remains untouched.

Stephan’s head is still swimming. The aspirin has done absolutely nothing for him.

Severin tries to get them to eat something. Karl indulges him and eats half an apple, then throws up ten minutes later in the bathroom. Stephan shakes himself out of the trance he’s been in ever since Karl knocked on their door and follows his teammate into the bathroom.

He might not be able to help the other three, but redirecting his worry at someone present, someone he can touch, is blessedly distracting. So, he rubs circles into Karl’s back as the older kneels on the cold floor, and he fills a cup with water for him to rinse his mouth with. Severin and Pius appear in the bathroom a few minutes later. “You okay, bud?” Severin asks Karl, whose pale face matches the white tiles. “Been better,” he answers, takes a deep breath and hunches in on himself to make his head fit on Stephan’s shoulder.

Stephan leans back against the sink and wraps his arms around his shaking friend in a loose hug. Physical comfort was never his forte. Between the two of them, Andi has always played that part: the tight hugs and firm hands and back rubs and head scratches. Stephan has always been the one to provide comfort with carefully chosen words, but tonight even that seems to fail him.

Severin leans back against the doorframe, head in his hands. “I’m going crazy,” he mumbles and Pius nods in agreement, wrapping his arms around himself. Karl is still clinging to Stephan, whose ever active mind scrambles for something to do besides the endless waiting and hoping.

He comes up empty. He rubs small circles into Karl’s waist with his thumbs. He stands and stares at the shower curtain. He closes his eyes and lets his head rest against Karl when the harsh bathroom light hurts his eyes and intensifies his headache.

Faintly, in the other room, a phone starts ringing.

X

“Pick up pick up pick up-“

“Consti?!”

Andi sees the exact moment all the tension leaves Constantin’s body at the sound of Severin’s voice. The younger closes his eyes and sobs, drowning out the frantic stream of words coming from the other end of the line. Andi carefully grabs Consti’s hand and holds on tight, tears spilling down his cheeks. The flashing lights of the ambulance up by the road cast a blue shadow over both of them and it’s making Andi dizzy.

“Consti, thank God. Hey! Are you guys okay? Constantin! Answer me!” Severin sounds slightly hysterical, which isn’t a tone of voice Andi ever thought he’d hear Severin use. Not their calm, collected Severin.

Constantin takes a deep, shaky breath before he manages to reply. “They took Markus,” he whispers, voice rough and breaking. Andi squeezes his hand. “They took him away to the hospital first because- cause, it’s something with head trauma? And lots of blood. We don’t know how he-. They’re sending a second ambulance for us. Andi is with me, we’re, uh. Really fucking cold, actually. But we’re okay, I think. Mostly.”

Consti looks skeptically at Andi, who gives a confirming nod and attempts a smile, even though he’s feeling the absolute furthest from fine. Moving his head hurts, breathing is getting harder by the minute and he dreads the moment the paramedics come back for them to get them out of the ditch, because that requires getting up. One of them stayed behind and is currently searching through the medical bag to find something to stabilise his ankle with, while the others whisked away Markus as soon as the seriousness of his condition became apparent. They haven’t heard from him since.

There’s a few beats of silence on the other end of the line, then a bit of rustling before Pius’ voice sounds through the speaker, shaky and hoarse. “Consti, what happened? We’re worried sick.”

“Car accident. Some stupid truck driver was driving on the wrong side of the road and Welle didn’t have a chance to react.”

Andi flinches.  

“The alternative was crashing head-on into the truck,” Constantin continues, and now that he’s started speaking, he can’t seem to stop. “The road was slippery, too, with all the ice and snow and whatnot-“

Andi’s vision goes dark around the edges.

“- and fuck, Pius, it was- no it’s just my shoulder, I really am okay- yes I’m crying, leave me alone. We haven’t heard from Markus but we’ll ask about him as soon as the other ambulance gets here-“

Someone flips a switch and the air in Andi’s lungs is replaced by a pain so sharp he feels like someone’s stabbed him with a knife, right between his ribs. He sucks in a desperate breath. No oxygen reaches his lungs.

“…we’ll meet you guys at the hospital, then?”

The knife twists.

“- tell Stephan Andi’s okay, he’s alive and- God, he saved me, he- Welle?”

Andi’s grip on Constantin is tight, fingernails buried in the palm of the younger’s hand, so deeply he draws blood. Had there been any oxygen left in his lungs to fuel his brain, he would’ve felt bad. There isn’t, though, so Andi roughly points to his chest and tries to breathe, come on, breathe, but he might as well have been drowning.

“No no no Andi no, hey you! Something’s wrong with him, help! Andi don’t do this to me, not you too, please…someone do something, please! Andi, fuck-“

Andi dimly registers his younger teammate sobbing into the phone; frantic voices talking over each other out of the speaker, but the sounds are muted, like he’s hearing them from under a thick blanket. There’s someone else at his side, pushing an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose, telling him something he can’t hear. The paramedic, his brain supplies helpfully through the haze of the panic, and Andi manages a last look at Constantin’s horrified face before everything goes black.

X

The fluorescent lights of the hospital hallway are worse than the hotel bathroom lights. Stephan squints against the harsh brightness and tries, once again, to blink the dots out of his vision, which have been there since the phone call came. He feels like he’s on the constant verge of blacking out, lightheaded and with a persistent ringing in his ears, but the universe seems determined to keep him conscious through every torturous second of this horrible, horrible night.

They have been sitting on some uncomfortable chairs designed for waiting and despair for at least forty minutes by now, but no one’s told them anything yet. Karl has gotten up to get coffee three separate times, and each time he’s returned without any cups. Stephan hasn’t spoken a single word since they left the hotel in a hurry to get to the hospital. Severin keeps shooting him worried glances, and Stephan imagines what he must look like in Andi’s oversized merch and a quickly thrown on Germany jacket that’s way too thin for the temperature outside, curled up on two of the chairs, staring at the wall. Not much has happened since Constantin called them and assured them everyone was still alive; except they didn’t know about Markus’ condition. Not much has happened since a tight rope of fear and anxiety and worry had wound its way around Stephan’s heart and squeezed every little ounce of hope out of it when Constantin’s tone had turned from relieved to worried to panicked because apparently, the universe not only needed him to suffer through this consciously, no, it also wanted him to witness the sounds of Andi’s gasping breaths over the phone, unable to do anything except sit frozen on the hotel bed and keep breathing when Andi couldn’t.

A door opens down the hall. Constantin steps out into the hallway, face red and blotchy from crying, right arm in a sling and a blanket around his shoulders. Severin and Pius are up and at his side in an instant, wrapping the youngest in a careful hug and guiding his head to rest on Severin’s shoulder. Constantin clings to Pius’ hoodie like his life depends on it. Stephan feels himself tearing up, too, and when Sevi and Pius bring Consti over to Karl and him, Stephan hugs the younger fiercely.

“You’re shaking,” Constantin whispers against him and tightens his one-armed grip. “Have you heard anything from Andi and Markus?”

Stephan peels himself out of the hug and mutely shakes his head. Karl takes his turn to hug Constantin and when he finally lets go, Severin is there to wipe the tears off Consti’s cheeks. He tucks the youngest into his side after and sits them both down on the hard plastic chairs.

Constantin then recalls the entirety of the accident. He fills them in on every small detail, things Stephan never wants to hear again. Of course Andi would put his arm across the passenger seat in a situation like this. Of course he’d prioritize his teammates well-being over his own. And of course he wouldn’t tell Consti he wasn’t feeling well until he fucking collapsed on the phone for all of them to hear.

Stephan is going to kick his ass once he’s allowed to see him. And once he’s made sure Andi is alive with his own two eyes.

Karl’s leg is bouncing up and down restlessly by the time Constantin finishes. “So Markus is-“ he starts, then trails off. Stephan gets it. Consti does, too. He shrugs helplessly. “He was conscious for a short time and then he- wasn’t anymore. There was so much blood, Karl, I don’t-“

“Are you guys here for Markus Eisenbichler and Andreas Wellinger?”

They haven’t noticed the doctor approaching them, but there he stands, and Stephan unconsciously grabs Karl’s hand to ground himself. The ringing in his ears gets louder. Karl’s face drains of all colour. Constantin looks at the doctor with wide eyes.

Severin, the only one left with enough rational brain cells to communicate, confirms. The doctor trails his eyes over the five of them, lingers on Consti’s sling and beaten up face and apparently decides they look enough like family for him to inform them about their teammates‘ status.

“Markus just came out of surgery for his head trauma. The intracranial pressure wasn’t as high as we’d originally thought, so we didn’t have to put him in a medically induced coma like we’d planned to do. He’s heavily sedated at the moment, though, to give his body the chance to rest. He will likely not wake up for another day. Miraculously, he doesn’t have any other injuries besides harmless bruising from the impact.”

Karl sobs in relief and lets go of Stephan to drop his head into his hands. Pius puts an arm around him and rests his forehead on the younger’s back. Constantin exhales shakily and nods, leaning further into Severin’s side.

The rope around Stephan’s heart loses the tiniest bit, but the pounding in his head doesn’t ease. He stares at the doctor. “What about-,” he starts, clears his throat, voice rough from disuse. “What about Andreas?”

The whole hallway seems to quiet down. The doctor looks at his chart. “Wellinger, yes? He’s also been in surgery with a tension pneumothorax. It’s a miracle, really, how he was able to walk around and breathe this well with four fractured ribs on the right side. He pulled your teammate out of the car, you said?” The doctor looks at Constantin, who nods. “Spectacular. He’s lucky one of the ribs caused the pneumothorax that late. He wouldn’t have made it without the immediate paramedic care. Andreas also shows signs of a whiplash injury and a lateral ligament tear on his right foot. We were able to rule out any kinds of organic bleeding or injuries. He’ll have to take it slow with his ribs and get professional physiotherapeutic care for his foot, but other than that, we expect he will make a full recovery. Both of them,” he adds, “were incredibly lucky. Andreas has woken up shortly after the surgery and immediately asked for one-“ he looks at his chart again, “Stephan Leyhe?”

Stephan’s hands are trembling so badly he has to sit on them to make them stop. “He’s awake already?” he croaks out, barely holding himself together. Constantin’s uninjured hand finds its way to the back of Stephan’s neck and Stephan can feel the massive relief in that one tight squeeze meant to comfort.

“He is awake,” the doctor confirms, then smiles. “Stubborn that one, isn’t he? Refused to let us hook him up to any post-surgery IV until we agreed to bring you to him. If you’d be so kind as to follow me.”

Stephan stands up, catches himself on Karl’s shoulder when the hallway tilts dangerously beneath his shaking legs. Karl steadies him with a quick hand at his waist. Once he’s collected himself enough to stand on his own, he looks down at the others and opens his mouth.

“Nope,” Severin interrupts him before he’s even had the chance to speak. “None of that. He asked for you. Go see him first, it’s alright. We’ll get this one,” he points at Karl, “to go see Eisei and then find some hot chocolate to warm Consti up. You handle Andi best, anyways. We’ll come around later.”

Stephan manages the first smile in hours, and even though it’s small, it’s also genuine. Constantin gets up, too, and hugs him again. Stephan notices how cold their youngest still is and wraps the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “Tell him we’re all here, yes? Tell him I’m okay, thanks to him.” Constantin ponders over that for a moment. “Also tell him he’s stupid and if he scares me like that again I won’t sing One Direction songs with him anymore.”

“You listened to One Direction right before the accident? Of all things-“

Pius’ incredulous voice fades as Stephan follows the doctor down the hall and into the elevator. One floor up, one turn to the left, third door on the right and then there he is, looking small and frail in his hospital gown. The whole team is skinny and lean, yet Andi has always had a way of taking up more space than he needed to with his mega-watt smile and infinite charm. That Andi seems lightyears away now, and as Stephan stands frozen by the side of Andi’s bed, he does something he hasn’t done in a long time.

He sinks into the chair next to the bed and starts crying.

He sobs and weeps and wipes his tears on his jacket, which is useless because they won’t stop coming. There’s a hand on his thigh, squeezing weakly, and only then does he look up and sees a milder version of Andi’s trademark smile. “Don’t cry,” the younger whispers, still slightly out of it from all the surgery medication. “Not- ‘s not worth it. I’m good now.” Andi tries to open his eyes with great effort, successful after attempt number three. “See. All good.” He squints at Stephan, who’s holding his hand with the intention of never letting go. “That’s mine? ‘S that my shirt?”

Stephan nods weakly and guides Andi’s hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the younger’s knuckles. “I like it when you- when you wear my clothes. Look good in that. Should do that more often.” Slightly more awake now, Andi suddenly frowns. “Is Consti okay? Markus?” He wiggles around in his bed, attempting to sit up, hissing when his ribs painfully remind him he’s been in a car accident. Stephan gently presses him back down into the mattress.

“They’re both fine,” he tells Andi, who relaxes visibly. “They’ll come see you later. The doc said you asked for me?”

Andi nods. “Wanted to know how your head’s doing. Can’t have been the relaxed night you wanted. Has it gotten worse? Should we ring for someone? Maybe they can give you something for the headache.” He looks up at Stephan so earnestly, so innocently concerned, Stephan wants to punch him for daring to be worried about him instead of himself after just having survived a fucking car accident.

He also wants to kiss him.

He keeps that thought to himself.

“It’s better now,” Stephan tells him and can’t help but smile when Andi sighs in relief. “You should sleep, Andreas” he then adds, brushing one of Andi’s locks out of his eyes. Andi has the audacity to pout, even though his eyes are closing on their own account.

“Wanna see Consti and- and the others,” he mumbles quietly. “And won’t you be bored then? Did you- did you bring your book?”

Stephan has to bite his lip to stop himself from crying again. He’s cried enough for the next few years, really. “I’m good, don’t worry,” he whispers back. “I will wake you when the others come.”

Andi seems content with that. “Like Sleeping Beauty,” he breathes before falling asleep entirely.

Stephan presses another kiss to Andi’s hand, still holding it in both of his. He watches Andi’s face closely, still pale but at ease in his sleep.

“Like Sleeping Beauty, yes,” he confirms quietly, even though Andi is already too far gone to hear him. “Like a fairytale.” 

Outside, the snow covers the trees in blankets of white.

[queenwille]

lmao isi’s face while trying to run away from staying alone with consti was so relatable