#im actually still not sure whats happening yet but ill process it once im fully awake | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sadsapphicslut · 4 years ago

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chapter one - original story (i havent come up with a title yet lol)

okay so here it is!! if anyone actually reads this i love u :) please leave feedback if u have any!!

TWs:

death, drugs, medication, mental illness, references to sex, swearing, alcohol

wordcount: 8.2k

(also i dont think anyone will but im paranoid of people stealing my writing so obligatory dont copy/post to another site or steal my work in any other ways etc)

There were five of us; 4 boys and me. In hindsight I realize from the outside our group probably seemed a little predatory, but it was never really like that. For the most part they were like brothers to me. Of course, being the only girl in a small and isolated club of mainly older boys, things were bound to happen. We were in high school and it was summer, can you blame me? Regardless, however much I loved them, it was not quite in the way my father always assumed or my mother always warned (during our uncomfortable monthly visitations before I managed to get rid of her for good).

The months everything went down, which I often referred to only as ‘The Worst Summer of My Life’, (quite melodramatically but not without reason) were somehow still full of the best moments of my life. Moments I often find myself wishing I could repeat, as nothing has or will ever come close to the way I felt, sitting amongst my boys day after day, somehow light as the warm July breeze that blew past us. My entire body weightless, as non-existent as the time that passed us by. Despite the depression I’d found myself plunged into during the days after my only brother’s death, I truly believe I will never again be as happy as I was then. Laughter seemed to flow freely from our mouths, smiles plastered onto our faces no matter the circumstances, content to just exist. I don’t think I can ever forget the day it was raining so hard the entire city was flooded, but we walked around uptown well past the point of being absolutely drenched, our clothes dripping so heavily the security guard denied us entry into the public library. Something about that day made me feel so free, like we were invisible. Completely apathetic to the whims of the real world, somehow existing only in our twisted minds and intertwined fantasies.

Maybe if I’d had my head screwed on a little tighter, or if we’d met under different circumstances, it wouldn’t have ended the way it did. I used to go down that line of thought every night before succumbing to a fitful but heavy sleep (under the direct affect of 25mg of Quetiapine, working to counteract my Concerta and Lexapro). Those types of irrational thoughts were ones my therapist deemed as my habit for rumination. In regard to the death of my brother she called it ‘bargaining’, one of the stages of grief. I never liked it when she spoke about those stages as I’ve always felt them to be wrong. Maybe because I never quite moved on to the final one, no matter how many years pass. ‘Acceptance’, coined as the “Re-entrance to reality”. Maybe it’s different since I was never really grounded to reality in the first place. I still wake up some mornings, thinking I’ve heard his voice in the other room, ready to beguile me with tales from his day of retail work. Other times I swear I’ve walked past him on the street. Some people may relate to my experiences, with reasonings of ghosts, angels, apparitions, or insanity, among many other causes for the apparent viewing of a loved one long gone to the other side. I never shared these beliefs, but I am not one to deny. Rather, I always take these instances as an omen. A warning. I have come to this conclusion not without evidence, at least circumstantial, given the many occasions over the years – and especially that summer – where I found my hypothesis to be true. All I can say is that I am glad I’ve never been met with the same chimerical visions of my mother; one can only hope that is because she ended up where she belonged. Maybe I’ll see her there, though I hope at the very least they could keep us in separate rooms of Hell if the situation does arise.

From what I know of the others now, which is admittedly not much – majorly due to my own neglect, as opposed to theirs – they share the same prescription for rose-coloured glasses as I. We always were too engrossed with our own romanticization of nostalgia and sentiment that it clouded our view. I often think this was one of the reasons we seemed to fit so well together. Not quite like puzzle pieces, too self-absorbed to hold a candle to that analogy, more like complimentary colours. I wish it could’ve stayed the way it was. We did try, and I never found myself able to fully disentangle myself from James, nor he could to I, but for most of us we could recognize an ending when one arises. I used to find myself using the word tragedy a lot while reminiscing, but I no longer think that word is appropriate. Fate is a more fitting term in my opinion, regardless of if one believes in it or not. “(A)n inevitable and often adverse outcome, condition, or end,” as reported by Merriam Webster. I don’t think there’s a word in the entire English language more accurate in describing how everything ended up; and if there is, I am yet to find it.

Chapter One

A Dead Brother

I have tried to erase the day my brother died from my memory so many times I lost count decades ago. I still find the image seeping into my unconsciousness quite dreadfully on the nights I neglect to take my pills and catch myself waking up with a steady flow of tears that dampen my pillow along with the drool that always seems to pour from my sleeping mouth. The dread that pools in my stomach sometimes being heavy enough for me to lose my lunch. I frequently wonder how people managed to reassure me that it wasn’t my fault; the most painful lie I’ve ever been told and one that seemed to stream from people’s mouths as easily as the mini sandwiches laid in the living room of my brother’s wake were stuffed in. The worst part about being told it wasn’t my fault was how obviously one could tell they didn’t believe what they were saying either. His death was my fault; a fact so uncontestable I wanted to kill myself every time I was reminded of it.

My therapist often tried to remind me that even if his death was “partially” (she always used the word partially, refusing to acknowledge the truth that his death was entirely my fault) my fault, there was nothing I could’ve done to prevent it. This was another lie I despised being told. There were a million ways I could have prevented his death or saved his life and yet, here we are, with him dead and me wishing everyday that I won’t wake up tomorrow. “Begonia,” she’d tell me – she was the only person who called me by my full name, I usually went by Nia, but a nickname felt too personal and I didn’t like her very much – “You mustn’t keep torturing yourself with these scenarios. He’s dead, and there is nothing you can do to change that. I am starting to wonder if you are going to let yourself move on. This isn’t healthy.” That was a line she liked to use a lot, “this isn’t healthy”. As if anything I do is.

Barb, my therapist that is, liked to go over the details of my brother’s death a lot. She often called it a ‘trigger’, which is why she always seemed to want me to talk about it. “Trauma is a horrible thing, Begonia, and you must learn to move past it, process it. I can see you still haven’t managed to do that on your own, and that’s what I’m here for, to help you move on.” Barb was big on the idea of “moving past trauma” and “learning to cope”, she often sounded like a broken record of a motivational speech. I found myself comparing her to school guidance councillors without realizing it, they were about equally as helpful (read: not helpful) in my opinion.

Sometimes I blame my inability to forget and “move past” my brother’s death on the way Barb constantly brought it up and made me go through it. I never quite understood how that part of my therapy was supposed to help me. I asked her once, what good was it doing rehashing the worst day of my life?

“Well, Begonia,” I hated the way she said my name, always so condescending and sour, like even the idea of me questioning her in any way was as impolite as shitting on her desk.

“You have to understand that I only want to help you. You seem to be unable to process your traumas on your own, which is why we need to go through these things. As you are aware, this PTSD,” she always left strange pauses after each letter, her slow tone grinding on my ears, “you have acquired has left you unable to function normally in daily life. I want you to get to a place where you can have a normal life (Ha!) and cope without these meetings. It’s what your brother would’ve wanted.” Barb liked to tell me what my brother would have wanted at least once every session. Putting aside the fact she knew next to nothing about him aside from the intimate details on how he died, I always thought it was an inappropriate thing to say as a psychologist specializing in grief counselling. It never particularly bothered me, I was reasonable enough to realize she was just trying to comfort me, but I never liked the phrase. “What your brother would’ve wanted.” What he would’ve wanted was to not die but we’re past that, aren’t we Barb, as you so often enjoyed telling me.

I have always been quite averse to my diagnoses, ADHD at 14, Persistent Depressive Disorder at 15, PTSD at 16, issues with alcohol and drugs that landed me in rehab more than once. I’ve been on a concoction of different medications since I was 13, even before I was diagnosed with anything officially. Sertraline, Lexapro, Prozac, Ritalin, Concerta, Adderall, Quetiapine, Ambien, Zopiclone, a healthy mix of off brand and branded medications. Sleeping pills, antidepressants, stimulants. I can’t remember a time before monthly trips to the drug store and side effect surveys that I’m not sure if I ever told the truth on. It’s a wonder that people didn’t see a slew of addiction issues coming from a mile away.

I think I’ve always had the most contention with my PTSD diagnosis though, I hate it because I know it’s undeniably true. I wish it wasn’t because maybe that’d mean my brother was still alive, but he isn’t. And I’m left traumatized and bereaved. Sometimes it feels like it hurt me more than it ever did my mother or father. Maybe it did. I should feel selfish for saying that, but I can’t, because they didn’t have to look at him while the life left his body, praying to God for the ability to turn back time. See the moment his eyes glazed over, knowing I’d never get to hear his obnoxious laugh, or make fun of his dumb face ever again.

❈

“Ray, hey listen I need you to come pick me up.”

It was a cool evening in May, the end of spring brought with it the promise of summer and the air had the familiar aroma of daffodils and petrichor. I had decided to go to a party with my friend Faun, my dad having been out at his girlfriend’s place for the weekend and me having nothing better to do. I wasn’t one for partying, but I did like to get high, so I usually just hung around with the rest of the potheads and pill junkies until someone dragged me home or I fell asleep. That night Don, a friend of a friend of a friend, had brought coke and E and we were all determined to get as fucked up as possible. Faun only ended up doing one line before running into a bedroom with some guy whose name started with an M – was it Martin or Marvin? Maybe it was Mickey – and left me sitting on the couch beside a girl who was about 1 more shot of vodka away from passing out.

I had fully intended on doing some coke, but the E seemed to be hitting harder than I was used to. I was sure my Ritalin had worn off by then but maybe I was wrong. As I stood up to get a glass of water I nearly fell over and decided to sit back down. Turning to face Don, I tapped him on the shoulder trying to get his attention.

“What was in that molly?” I was vaguely aware of the way my words were slurring, but I felt weirdly energized. I was aware my heart was beating a little too fast, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I knew what ecstasy felt like, this was not nearly my first time doing it, but I felt really wrong.

“Don!” He turned to look at me and I felt uneasy. His eyes looked a little crazed – not that out of the ordinary but given the circumstances I was worried – “What the fuck did you give me?” It felt like I’d done 5 lines of coke in the last 2 minutes and I knew that E had been spiked.

Don’s face had an unmistakable expression of guilt written on it as he leaned down and whispered in my ear, his voice shaking, “I think it was cut with meth.” Fuck. My stomach dropped. I have to get out of here. I quickly shot up from the musty couch I was sat on, carefully holding onto Don’s shoulder so I didn’t fall, my legs still feeling unsteady. I opened my phone; the screen was too bright, and I had a hard time maneuvering it as I attempted to exit the house. Clicking the green Messages icon, I sent a text to Faun – e ws cut w meth im lesving – with shaky hands and burst out the door into the fresh air. I clicked my brother’s contact and pressed call.

It rang four times before he picked up.

“Nia? Why are you calling me it’s like 1am?” I could tell from the smooth tone of his voice he’d been drinking. He didn’t very often but he had an appreciation for cocktails and enjoyed getting buzzed now and then. He still was a year from being legal to drink but his friends we’re all 19 and 20 and bought alcohol for him. I found him fun when he got drunk, becoming talkative and giggly, but right now I wished so badly for him to be sober.

“Ray, hey listen I need you to come pick me up.” I was slurring, my voice a bit too pitchy to pass as anything but high. I knew he didn’t like it when I did this, but he never ratted me out. Sometimes I wish he did, maybe I never would’ve been able to go to that party in the first place.

I could hear a door shutting on his end, I assumed he was going into a different room. “What’s wrong?” My skin was bubbling with anxiety at the prospect of having to tell him what I did.

“Fuck, uh… I did something stupid. I’m at Emily Goguen’s, y’know up in Champlain Heights. Please pick me up.” I rarely used the word please.

“Nia, what the fuck did you do?” I almost started crying but I found my eyes to be bone dry.

“Please don’t yell.”

“Okay, really, tell me what is going on or I won’t come get you.”

“I accidentally took meth.”

“You what? What the fuck, Nia! Fuck this I’m on my way and I’m fucking telling Dad.” I cringed but I knew he was going to before I even called. The pit in my stomach grew deeper as the buzzing of my skin grew stronger. I could feel myself getting higher, everything was so clear and standing around was making me grow restless. Ray huffed on the phone and I heard him entering his car.

His tone was softer the next time he spoke. “I’ll be there in 5, just stay put, please. Do you want me to stay on the call or can I hang up?”

I felt like a child, which I was really, only 16 at the time, a whole life ahead of me. Still, I was grateful for the way he spoke to me, reminiscent of being 6 and getting a scrapped knee after falling off my pink Razor scooter. The high made me edgy, and my voice was sharp to my ears, “No, you can hang up.” I heard the click to indicate he’d done just that, and started pushing my cuticles as I waited, the task somehow greatly interesting me, and I did not realize until later I had managed to pick off all of the skin around my pointer and middle fingernails during the five-minute wait.

Ray pulled up exactly five minutes later in his ugly, blue 2011 Ford Fiesta he’d gotten the year prior after passing his driving test. What I wouldn’t do now to smell the inside of that car once again, a distinct attar of pineapple car freshener and Old Spice deodorant mixed with stale black tea, faintly present due to his ever-growing collection of empty paper cups from various different fast foods and coffee shops.

I stumbled into the car, feeling the strong impulse to clean the space, but attempting to push it down. From the passenger side overhead mirror I could see my blown pupils and sweaty forehead, pieces of my copper red hair sticking to my face. My freckles were showing through my concealer that had mostly worn off and I wanted to cover them back up. My skin was pale from winter (and probably the drugs in my system) but my cheeks were flushed like I was drunk. My high cheekbones made my face look gaunt in the lighting, but my face was wide which balanced it out, so I didn’t look completely skeletal. Ray was looking at me, the worry apparent in his eyes, but his face was flushed as well, and I could tell he’d been drinking a bit too much to drive. I had my license as well, but it was clear I was in no condition to take over on that front, so I didn’t bother saying anything. I wish I had. There’s a lot of things I wish. I wish I hadn’t gone to that party; I wish I hadn’t taken that E; I wish I called someone else; I wish I waited it out at Emily’s; I wish I walked home; I wish I took a cab; I wish I waited for Faun; I wish I wish I wish I wish I wish.

“Are you okay?” He didn’t take his eyes off me as I shut the mirror in front of me.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be fine. Please just take me home.”

“Is Dad there?”

“No.”

“Maybe I should take you to Mom’s.”

“No!” I’d moved out of my mom’s completely just over 6 months ago, barely seeing her once a month. It was one of the best decisions I’d ever made. She never liked me much anyways, the feeling was entirely mutual. Ray seemed to have a close bond with her for some reason despite how she treated him like shit. I never called him out though, he no longer lived with her, so I didn’t really care what their relationship was as long as she wasn’t hurting him. She did treat him significantly better than me, however, so I figured maybe he managed to forgive her the way I never could.

“Okay, but I’m staying with you until Dad gets home. I’m not gonna lie to him about this shit. Fucking meth, Nia? Seriously?”

“It was in the molly.” He sighed and started driving.

My brain felt like it was filled with butterflies, or ants, some kind of movement that was itching at my skull. The paper cups scattered around were making me anxious and I needed to clean his car. I began picking at my nails again, but I needed to pick up those cups, you see. I turned around and started gathering the ones Ray had discarded in the back, filling up an empty plastic bag from Best Buy. I was fully switched around in my seat, nearly crawling into the backseat to reach the trash my brother had left. I felt him tap my side, I looked over at him and he started to scold me.

“Nia, stop that will you, you’re distracting me.” But I needed to finish gathering the cups. The car was dirty, and my skin was itching, the traffic lights burning my skin. I was elated and I didn’t want to listen to him, he was just trying to get in my way. I continued to lean over, not registering the swerve of the car as he looked over at me.

“Nia – ”

He turned over to push me back into my seat, his eyes leaving the road for no more than a few seconds. This time I felt the swerve as we broke into the next lane.

This is where I have a hard time piecing together what happened. From what I was told, we ended up running directly into a 2015 Dodge Ram 2500. In case you understandably have a lack of knowledge when it comes to cars, that is a very large, sturdy, and expensive pickup truck which I would probably consider the last vehicle you’d want to charge headfirst into while going 70km per hour. I don’t recall the actual incident of hitting the truck, whether that be from the drugs, the position I was in, or hitting my head on the roof of the car, I don’t know. What I do know is that when I woke up, we were in a ditch on the side of the road, with the car flipped upside down, and my entire body was screaming at me to Get Out!

I felt blood oozing sluggishly from my head and noted some indistinct pain in my right wrist where it had scraped something pretty badly and gotten twisted, but I otherwise felt alright. I couldn’t tell if the cloudiness in my head was from a concussion or the earlier events of the night, but I figured it was probably good I was awake, regardless of how dazed I seemed.

I turned my head to the left and was greeted by a view I will never be able to forget, it having been branded to the insides of my eyelids, scorched in my mind. Ray, with his left arm twisted in spectacular fashion, reminding me of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, after Lockhart spells away Harry’s bones. My brother had always been squeamish with broken bones and I hoped he wasn’t aware of how his limb looked at the moment. His head was bleeding quite profusely, and I was alarmed despite how many times I’d heard in movies that headwounds bleed a lot. His eyelids were fluttering, irises appearing glassy and unfocussed. And then I saw it. A piece of glass was stuck in the left side of his neck. The windshield apparently had broken with the impact and my brother was lucky enough to get a piece lodged right in his trachea. It was thick, bright red blood – that I could’ve sworn was sparkling in my current inebriated perspective – was gushing out the side, so heavy I could smell it, taste it, in the air. I was frozen once I realized.

Do something, do something! Put pressure on it! Call 9-1-1! My mind was screaming at me, but it was all I could do to sit and watch the blood stain his clothes. He was wearing the corduroy jacket I’d gotten him for his birthday and a white button up, the red seeped into them until it was as if they’d always been that colour. My voice was caught in my throat, but I managed to push some sound past.

“Ray?” It was weaker than a whisper but in the silence that seemed to envelope us in that car, completely independent of the outside world and sirens that could surely be heard from blocks away, I knew he would be able to hear me.

He looked up, eyes focussing slightly on me, and a tear slipped down his face, only it went the wrong way since we were still upside down. He mouthed the words “I love you”. We never said that to each other. As close as we were, our relationship had always been more comparable to that of a best friend than sibling. We weren’t overly affectionate, never hugged or said I love you, hung out for enjoyment rather than as a punishment. Most people didn’t know we were brother and sister until we pointed it out, we never really looked alike and were absent of the traditional distaste and rivalry usually present between siblings. I knew, as he looked me in the eyes and said those words, this would be the last time I’d ever see him outside of a morgue.

I sat in my seat next to him with dry eyes, wishing desperately I could cry, needing to express the feeling of utter horror and despondency that completely overtook my body and mind, but I couldn’t. Barb told me time and time again that I was in shock, there was nothing I could’ve done, but I will never be able to believe that. I still remember the moment the final tear slipped down his face. He smiled at me, pain evident in his eyes. His entire body was covered in the metallic smelling red, and I wanted to vomit. I wish I could say the crash had sobered me, but it didn’t, not really. I was still entirely in a daze as I saw his muscles relax, smiling falling from his face, eyes not quite rolling back all the way but enough to give me nightmares for the next 20 years. The life had been absorbed from his body, leaving a heavy shell. I was told afterwards this all happened within the span of 10 minutes, but it felt like years. By the time the first responders had appeared I was an old woman. Grayed hair, and arthritic bones. Mourning for the brother I’d lost oh so many years ago, when I was just a girl. I think in a way I died in that car with him, I never was really the same. But who would be? Best friend and confidant, older brother, idol, dying in front of your eyes as you do nothing, knowing for the rest of your life that his death is – was – your fault. Knowing you could’ve done something, anything really, to prevent his untimely loss of life before the paramedics arrived. If I’d been the same after that night I would have to be much more disturbed than I ever thought.

I sat in that car beside Ray’s corpse for 3 more minutes before I heard the sirens closing in around us – me. I thought I might pass out, either from the toll of what I’d just witnessed or from my concussion, but I remained upright, probably from the adrenaline. I couldn’t move so I just waited, and hoped I’d die too before anyone reached the scene. It would be much preferrable to any other outcome I could think of at the time. I could vaguely register the pain in my wrist, but I felt so numb I’m sure you could’ve shot me in the foot and I wouldn’t have blinked.

A young fireman named Walter ended up getting me out of the car. The door was smashed and stuck which meant I’d been trapped in there either way. I was happy I hadn’t bothered trying to escape as I'm terribly claustrophobic and finding out I couldn’t would have thrown me into a proper panic attack. The fireman was incredibly nice, saying reassuring things the entire time they were opening the door with the “Jaws of Life”. I ended up seeing him again in the hospital actually, or at least that’s what my father told me. He wanted to check in on me and left me some hydrangeas in a vase. I always preferred chrysanthemums but I'm not that picky when it comes to a floral arrangement.

After the door was busted open I was carried out by Walter. I was shaking and apparently babbling nonsense but in my head I was trying to tell them to save Ray. I wasn’t really aware of all that much, completely blind to the crowd of spectators that had rudely gathered to witness the violence – wasn’t it supposed to be taboo to stop at a car crash? Wondering vaguely about what happened and wishing you could get a better look as you drive past the scene. My head wound had made me a bit incompetent and the meth in my system was really not helping the entire situation.

I was laid on a gurney and rolled onto an ambulance. I don’t remember much about the ride; the sirens, the bright lights, a paramedic named Alice who spoke softly, smoothing out my hair while the other put an oxygen mask on my face (which I wasn’t entirely cognizant enough to question though now I'm not really sure why they did it) and splinted my wrist. Alice asked me if I was on drugs and I nodded but was unable to speak when she asked me what ( I would find this a common occurrence after the accident, my voice seemingly stolen alongside Ray’s). She just nodded and said something to the other ME that I didn’t quite pick up. She asked if I could tell her my name and I shook my head. She must’ve noticed the iPhone in my pocket and grabbed it, turning to the medical ID page.

“Is your name Begonia?” I nodded, though the name sounded foreign on my ears. I liked the way Alice said it though, she had a light Spanish accent and a matronly tone that made me feel safe. I wondered if she had kids of her own; she looked young, but my own mother had me at 19 so who could say? She told me her name after complimenting mine. “Begonia is a beautiful name; I love the flowers. I’m Alice, okay? We’re gonna make sure you’re alright and take you to the hospital.” Her voice was sweet like syrup and I became sleepy as she spoke.

“No honey, you can’t fall asleep yet. Just stay awake a little bit longer and I promise you they’ll let you sleep at the hospital.”

I don’t remember anything of the rest of the ride to the hospital. I was dropped off at the Emergency Room at the Regional, head still too foggy to allow me to recall anything before I was sitting in a white bed, in a white room, with white sheets and a light blue hospital gown on. It was morning and my father was sitting at the end of my bed in an uncomfortable plastic chair, his eyes bloodshot and moist. He’d very obviously been crying for a long time and my chest panged with guilt. I reached up to feel my head and realized there was a cast on my wrist. With my other hand I touched the cotton that covered my forehead, wincing when I felt the sting of what had to be stitches in a nasty gash. I would spend the next 5 years of my life with a variety of diverse haircuts that attempted to hide the ugly scar that served as a reminder of the worst night of my life. Even now it is still extremely obvious, but I can’t be bothered to try and hide it, I so rarely look in the mirror that it wouldn’t matter if my skin turned blue.

My dad hadn’t looked up, so I attempted to gain his attention but once again found my voice failing me. I tapped on the bed a few times before he seemed to realize and face me.

“Nia… how are you feeling?” His voice was raspy and thin. He reeked of cigarettes and stale coffee, though this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. I remained silent as he looked at me, searching my face for something I'm not sure he found.

“Nia, I, I'm not sure how to say this to you.” Here it comes. Almost worse than watching my brother die, the confirmation. “Ray, he’s, well dead.” I saw my father’s eyes begin to tear up again as I stared straight ahead. I couldn’t feel the sobs that racked my body, nor the hot tears streaming from my eyes. I saw my dad start to move closer but sit back down when I flinched. Of course, I knew my brother was dead; I had front row seats to watching the event happen, but somehow I still didn’t believe it until the words left my father’s mouth. According to my dad, who many years later described to me how eery the whole event was, my sobs were completely silent, and I was entirely unaware of everything happening around me. This dissociation lasted the first few days after the accident, and the entirety of my hospital stay. Leaving the blissful gap in my memory I have now.

Barb told me this was my mind’s way of coping with the tragedy and stress of what happened. I was honestly just happy I had an excuse to skip some of the dreadful retelling she forced upon me.

❈

The funeral was of course a depressing and solemn event. I was still yet to speak and found myself thankful for the way people gave up on trying to get me to communicate. I dressed in a black skirt with a black short sleeved button up. A dark coat thrown around my shoulders as the cast on my right hand was too big to fit through the sleeve. I looked terrible, barely a week out of hospital before I watched Ray sink into the ground. The wound on my forehead was still quite nasty, though it looked better than it did before. I tried to cover it up with my hair but was unsuccessful. I got bangs soon after.

The matter was very traditional, taking place in a church even though none of our family was really religious. It was only the second time I'd ever been in a church, the first having been for my cousin Julie’s wedding when I was four years old. I don’t remember anything of it aside from the material of my dress itching at my neck and making me rather miserable. Of course, not nearly as miserable as I was the day of the funeral, sitting in a pew at the front of the church, listening to a priest claiming Ray would’ve wanted us to celebrate his life. I knew this not to be true; Ray was extremely dramatic and would’ve cherished the thought of everyone he’d ever spoken to moping around for weeks after his death, beside themselves with grief. He sometimes referred to himself as “Romeo” after having been broken up with by another girl he was supposedly in love with, stating he better just stab himself in the heart now if he couldn’t have her. On the rare occasion he broke up with a girlfriend, he’d lounge around, eating ice cream, pretending to not be upset and comparing his cold heart to that of Richard VIII. The concept of him being any different over his death was almost comical; Ray was nothing if not predictable.

I sat beside my father, who sat beside my mother (it was an extremely awkward arrangement that neither I nor my father cared for) and seemed to have the idea that I could evaporate if I thought hard enough about it. Unfortunately, I did not evaporate, or even come close to it, instead finding myself exactly where I'd been the whole time. I mostly tuned out the service, only really paying attention when my father and Ray’s best friend, Jake spoke. I managed to escape the duty of having to speak that day thanks to my fragile mental state and mutism. Though I'm sure I would’ve been forced all the same if I had been able to talk in any capacity, regardless of where my head was at.

Faun was sitting in the pew behind me, feeling quite guilty about the whole ordeal. Or friendship dissolved soon after, I think she blamed herself for taking me to the party. It didn’t bother me too much though; we were never the closest and I sometimes thought her to be extremely annoying. An endless stream of shitty boyfriends that she only acquired so she could further repress her sexuality. When we were 14 we kissed at a sleepover and she admitted she was in love with me. I felt bad for not returning the feeling and our relationship had been on rocky territory ever since. I don’t understand how she thought she was in love with me since she barely knew anything about me, but either way she never brought it up again and soon after the monsoon of boytoys had begun.

My brother’s friends and ex-girlfriends also attended the event. I didn’t approach any of them, far too scared they’d blame me for the death of their friend. One of them, Alex, went up to me to say how sorry he was about everything that happened. He was crying quite heavily (I later found out he was the friend Ray had been drinking with and the second last person to see him alive) and I could smell alcohol on his breath. I stood there while he spoke, telling me about how great my brother was as if I was wholly unaware. Body waving side to side as he stood with his hand on the wall beside me. He offered me some bronze liquid in a flask, and I obliged, savouring the burning sensation that followed in my throat. Alex’s voice was steady and deep, reminding me of my father’s. I’m not sure how long we stood there, him spinning a fantastic web of anecdotes and stories about my brother, some entirely new to my ears. We passed the beverage back and fourth until it was empty. My head felt lighter and heavier somehow simultaneously, and I found it much easier to listen to Alex talk. Later he tried to kiss me in my bedroom during the wake. His mouth was sour, and his tongue seemed too big for his mouth. I wondered how he was able to talk so much without it getting in the way.

We moved in procession to the cemetery after the service. The grass was a vibrant green colour, and I didn’t understand how the world kept turning after Ray’s death, for mine stopped the moment his heart failed to beat. The sky was a lovely shade of cyan-blue, with clouds so perfect they seemed animated. Pink carnations were planted near the outskirts of the yard and I could smell spring in the air; a heavy, floral aroma that never failed to comfort me. I thought it should be raining, it felt inappropriate that the weather refused to match my despair. My mind wandered as we approached the empty grave and I considered what it would be like if Ray was here beside me. He’d probably be making jokes, telling me to lighten up for a minute or my face would get stuck that way. He’d mock my silence, saying how I never managed to shut up for a minute before but suddenly I'm as proper as a nun. I'd smile, ruffling his hair to piss him off and try to refrain from laughing aloud. The absence of him only felt stronger as I imagined this scenario, so I shoved it out of my head.

The casket was lowered into the ground, my father was a pallbearer and I often think about how he must’ve felt carrying his son’s body before watching him being buried. My mother sobbed loudly which annoyed me, it felt a bit exaggerated. I had a few tears falling from my eyes but mostly, I just felt numb. Incredibly and absolutely empty inside. To onlookers it may have seemed as though we weren’t very close, my reaction being similar to that of his ex-girlfriends’. However, this didn’t account for the loss of my voice, or the broken state I was in mentally. Maybe it was better that my reaction was rather dulled. It meant people didn’t feel the need to approach me as they did my mother. Less concerned given she was the one playing up her emotions to the point of embarrassment. My father cried, more than I but far less than my mother. He didn’t cry very often – I'd actually only seen it once prior to the whole event – and I figured he probably needed it. At this point I felt as though I'd shed enough tears to last a lifetime so Ray wouldn’t mind if I was a bit subdued in comparison. He never was a crier anyways.

As I sprinkled soil onto his casket I imagined he was right beside me, watching, ready to criticize as usual. The dirt stained my hand, clutching the sweat and turning my skin a muddy brown colour. As I wiped the dirt on my jacket I could hear him nagging about how I better go wash my hands, what was I, a six-year-old? He was in denial about me growing up and took every chance to remind me I was still just a kid. Not that he had much on me, but I enjoyed it. I never was one to shy away from attention; at least not before. Little quirks and inside jokes between us were always some of my favourite things, the type of humour you could only get from living with someone your whole life. No matter how much his memory will fade there are some things I can’t let myself forget. His mocking tone when he’d make fun of me is one of those things. If I ever managed to let go of that sound then I must be dead as well.

The sun beat down on my back, my skin burning in my black clothes. I wasn’t sweating yet, but most of the men around were – suit jackets aren’t exactly known for their breathability. My nose was dry and aching red, sore from how much I'd been wiping it the last couple days. Still the sweet seeping tinge of flowers and spring managed to crawl into my nose, settling underneath my skin, the buzzing from before had returned, I could feel my heartbeat loudly in my throat and had the desperate urge to just run. Instead, I just followed the rest of the party, sitting down in the passenger seat of my dad’s car. The silence that settled over us was uncomfortable and stale. He turned on the radio, Led Zeppelin filled the air around us, thankfully relieving some of the tension. I felt in my left pocket for one of the carnations I’d picked from a nearby grave earlier. The flower had begun to wilt, heat taking effect on its delicate composition. When I got home I put it in between the pages of my oldest copy of Romeo and Juliet. Ray would have found it funny if he was around to see.

The drive to my mother’s house was short and minimally awkward. We sat in silence – aside from the music – only because there was no alternative. My hand remained clutched around the dying flower in my pocket as we left the car and entered the home. Other people had already arrived, clustered in the living room, picking at tiny ham sandwiches and various desserts my mother had undoubtedly stress-baked the day before. I wasn’t hungry so I sat as far away from the food and people as humanely possible while staying in the living room, not wishing to hear my mother’s scolding about how I need to socialize more. Eventually I managed to slip away into my old bedroom, where Alex was sitting on my bed drinking a mickey of Smirnoff I assumed he swiped from my mother’s freezer. He offered it to me, and I accepted, the weird repetitive déjà vu like act, mirroring earlier and making the whole day feel like somewhat of a dream.

When I went over this part with Barb she always felt the need to emphasize that it wasn’t a dream. I knew this, obviously, which I told her every time, but she was inclined to disbelief when it came to my denial over my brother’s death. “Begonia, you must realize he’s gone. Dwelling is helping nobody, especially not you. This isn’t a healthy mindset for you to have. Always comparing living to your dreams. I want you to tell me you understand this isn’t just some dream you can wake up from.” The first time she said that to me I was thrust into a bout of wordlessness, as it struck a bit too close to home. The next time she brought it up I just told her of course, though even now I still cannot say I fully understand. How can I when all of my assumptions have been constantly disproven time and time again. How can I ever say this isn’t a dream when I'm not even sure I'm real? James always tries to reassure me, “Bee, I'm telling you, if you can feel this beat, the pulse in your wrist, your neck, your chest, you are alive,” he’ll say while pressing my hand to my wrist, but we both know it isn’t that simple.

Me and Alex made out for a few minutes until I managed to excuse myself. He was a bad kisser and tasted disgusting. I left him sitting on my old bed while I went downstairs to find my dad. He was sitting at the counter with a can of root beer, blank expression sat upon his face. When his eyes met mine he sighed, grabbing his keys out of his pocket. It was obvious neither of us wanted to be here, for numerous reasons, so we left. And if the radio stayed off as we drove home we didn’t acknowledge the silence that time. In my hand was the crumpled carnation, and for some reason it made my chest hurt. A deep ache of dread. I could feel my heartbeat, hear it over the drum of the car engine, and I crushed the flower further. I was careful not to rip it though, as if that was crossing some kind of invisible line my mind had set for me. My fingers felt waxy when I finally let go.

Back home, I opened the copy of Romeo and Juliet. I retrieved the deteriorating plant from my pocket and placed it in the center. Closing the book, I stacked it under a few dictionaries, a magazine under it so it was trapped on either side. I sat down in front of it and cried. Not the huge gasping sobs my mother seemed to fancy, nor the quiet weeping of my father. No, I cried the tears of a child who just found out their grandparents died, the soft uncomprehending grief that overcame them as they first learned what death really meant. How long forever was. My legs pulled up to my chest, hands loosely hung around knees, unable to clasp together because of my cast. I closed my eyes and I swear I could hear the sound of Ray sighing behind me, but when I opened my eyes I was alone. I went to bed, earlier than I ever had in my life, still believing it was a dream and I'd wake up like Alice after her adventures in Wonderland. But when I awoke, I was met with the slow, oozing perdure of my reality. The one which I could not wake up from, and the one where my brother was dead.

#my writing #writing #original writing #original content #original fiction #creative writing #dark academia #tw death #tw drugs #tw mentions of sex #tw swearing #tw mental illness #tw medication #alo writes

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if-the-crown-fits-translate-it · 4 years ago

Text

Discord pt 92

[Date: 17/03, 07:42 PM GMT - 17/03, 09:29 PM GMT]

jayyyyyyyy: “fetch, come on, cant you see this isnt doing anything to help?

just take the damn ointment”

Little-K1ng: “he... what?”

Marcus: “I back read a little bit”

Marcus: “Just not here”

fetch: “fine. you want me to be honest huh. go on look at the fucking doc. just another place where my problems turned into everyone else's.”

Little-K1ng: fetch.... you really, really need to stop lying to me. im doing my best here, im trying so hard to let things slide in the name of giving you what you need. but you are far from making it easy on me”

fetch: “we're gonna forget all this happened in 3 days time anyway. it doesn't fucking matter what i tell you or what i dont.”

Little-K1ng: “you get angry when you're stressed, you stop responding, you stop listening to reason

but-.. wait, whats going to happen in 3 days?”

Maxwell: “....prince told us that faer family is coming back in 3 days”

fetch: “the beginning of spring.”

Maxwell: “spring officially begins then”

jayyyyyyyy: “we'll get you guys back, if you somehow go back in the first place”

Little-K1ng: “so.... so i get warning, this time,

thats.... almost too cruel”

fetch: “whatever. i honestly can't be asked to care at this point.”

Marcus: “You’d really say that to Mona of all people?”

Little-K1ng: “i..... i wouldnt ask that of you”

Marcus: “...three days huh”

Little-K1ng: “i would simply fucking EXPECT IT FROM YOU. HOW THE FUCK. AM I MEANT TO FEEL. WHEN I CANT STOP GRIEVING SOMEONE. WHOS RIGHT IN FUCKING FRONT OF ME, FETCH?”

donti (e): “... mona u alright...?”

Marcus: “Is that really a question you’re asking right now?”

donti (e): “ah.. sorry.”

jayyyyyyyy: “honestly at this point im willing to chuck a bucket of weedkiller at fetch's head”

Marcus: “Jeight.”

donti (e): “hey hey lets not get hastyy”

Little-K1ng: “i... [huff] i .... [sniff] i just.. i shouldnt have yelled i....”

Marcus: “This isn’t helping”

fetch: “i... you're expecting too much from me. i mean. you expect me to care at this point? when death is coming to our door and all we can do is throw on a little sprinkler? when all we can do is sit in a huddle and wait until these vines in our skulls fully bloom?”

donti (e): “... we discussed possible solutions to the buds if you.. want to change subject.. or not”

jayyyyyyyy: “fetch, the thing about this is that we have a fighting chance

we lose that chance if you stop fighting”

Little-K1ng: “im expecting you to fucking try, fetch. im expecting you to understand that we're all going through this, and every time you lie to me, to us, you cost us more time we could have spent trying to fix it”

fetch: “how would it help, by piling on more and more to the shitheap we have already? you're not supposed to worry about me. ive always been able to handle myself.”

Maxwell: “please ⌇⏁⍜⌿arguing....why are we arguing.....”

Marcus: “..”

Void: “...”

Little-K1ng: “wh... what did you just...?”

Maxwell: “....what....”

fetch: “...”

Maxwell: “why are...”

Marcus: “Max..”

Maxwell: “why are you staring at me what”

Marcus: “Can you say what you just said again”

Little-K1ng: “that sounded like...”

donti (e): “max...”

Little-K1ng: “say that again, max”

Marcus: “Please”

jayyyyyyyy: “actually maybe dont”

Marcus: “Max say it again”

jayyyyyyyy: “that. i think fighting is causing the process to speed up”

Maxwell: “please stop arguing....why are we arguing.....?”

Little-K1ng: “i... thats not what i heard”

donti (e): “... lets stop arguing”

Marcus: “That’s..that’s what I thought you said

You just

Didn’t say it like that”

Maxwell: “but i did”

fetch: “...yall still think I need to be priority right now?”

Maxwell: “thats what i said”

jayyyyyyyy: “you, uh, said "stop" in enderspeak”

Maxwell: “what no i didnt”

Marcus: “Fetch. This is going to be you so kindly shut the fuck up about not being a priority”

Little-K1ng: “fetch, you fail to recognize that you're always my priority, even if you're kind of an ass”

Marcus: “Max it’s okay

I told you it would be okay”

Little-K1ng: “max, hug?”

Maxwell: “why....why are you all acting so weird?”

Little-K1ng: “its alright, max”

jayyyyyyyy: “we're all just stressed mate”

Maxwell: “are yall okay?”

donti (e): “weere fine its fine..”

Maxwell: “its?

look im not a child you can tell me whats going on”

Marcus: “We told you”

fetch: “you spoke in ender.”

Marcus: “You denied it”

donti (e): “you spoke ender.”

Maxwell: “you....youre kidding right?”

jayyyyyyyy: “nope”

Maxwell: “ha funny joke”

jayyyyyyyy: “we're not joking”

fetch: “for once im not lying.”

Marcus: “You told us to tell you.

We told you.”

Little-K1ng: “here, come in for a hug, wont you?”

Maxwell: “no no no no no”

Little-K1ng: “ive got you, max”

Maxwell: “i couldnt have no”

jayyyyyyyy: “hold on, hes panicking”

Little-K1ng: “its the stress, max

its alright, im here”

jayyyyyyyy: “mona, give him a little space”

Maxwell: “no no no stay please”

jayyyyyyyy: “i never said for anyone to leave

are you okay with being given hugs, or would you rather not?”

Maxwell: “im okay with it”

LLyr: “they’ve kind of established max likes the contact at this point i think”

jayyyyyyyy: “yeah, but you can never be too careful”

LLyr: “fair enough”

Little-K1ng: “i appreciate the concern for max, jayx8″

fetch: “I. i would offer a hug but I'm not feeling up to it. i think I'm just gonna go for a walk.”

jayyyyyyyy: “its

Little-K1ng: “fetch...”

jayyyyyyyy: “hm”

Maxwell: “i dont wanna go back no no please no”

Little-K1ng: “i would rather you not go out where the court roams

you got in one good bite, let it be enough”

fetch: “i'll stick nearby.

i just need to get out of the house.”

Little-K1ng: “stay where you can see the road, alright? text me if you need a pickup”

jayyyyyyyy: “stay near the neighborhood. go to the mineshaft if you need to”

fetch: “yeah. got it. later.”

Maxwell: “I'm scared”

donti (e): “...”

Little-K1ng: “oh, max...”

Maxwell: “oh no oh god oh merde”

donti (e): “sh shsshshh max its fine.

calm down its alright.”

Little-K1ng: “tell you what, we can destress with some hot cocoa? with the tiny colorful marshmallows you like?”

Marcus: “I can go make it

I don’t think max wants to be alone right now”

jayyyyyyyy: “maybe watch some movies? ones that uh, dont have kidnapping in them, too. moana would be good?”

Little-K1ng: “i dont actually.. own any movies

i dont watch them”

donti (e): “youtube videos ?”

Little-K1ng: “that works”

[They watch a video of an otter for a while, and discuss the events from earlier this day. Max thinks that the wreathe mayn’t be as bad as everyone thinks it’ll be, as it will have calendula marigolds which are good for helping to heal.]

Little-K1ng: “....ah.. they are, but maybe..... nah, nevermind.... ill let you enjoy the thought”

Maxwell: “they may be fully metal but still...maybe then can help the family....”

Marcus: “...”

Little-K1ng: “.........”

Maxwell: “what?”

Marcus: “..yeah max, that’s a nice thought”

Maxwell: “i thought so too!”

Little-K1ng: “i cant believe.... im staring down the barrel of either losing all 3 of you... or going with you and not remembering any of this... that hurts, and it hasnt even happened yet”

Marcus: “Well

I don’t know if this will comfort you or not

But you might not entirely forget this”

Little-K1ng: “true! this is honestly the happiest thing to happen to me in an incredibly long time, there is a chance itll stick”

Marcus: “Baron and Prince remember their childhoods a little bit”

Maxwell: “stick...sticky...ha honey is sticky but not good

tastes yucky”

Marcus: “...I remembered Elizabeth and I learning codes

....max?”

Maxwell: “hm?

something wrong?”

Marcus: “What was that about honey just now?”

Maxwell: “oh!

well mona said stick

and stick is one letter off from sticky!

and hony is really sticky

but i dont like honey”

Marcus: “...got it

Maxwell: “bleh”

Marcus: “Okay yeah that

That makes sense”

Maxwell: “yeah!”

Little-K1ng: “i wish i hadnt snapped at fetch like that... maybe when he comes back i can give him a proper apology”

Maxwell: “hm perhaps that would be good

family should get along”

[this message was deleted shortly afterwards]

Marcus: “....”

Little-K1ng: “i...?”

Maxwell: “what?”

Marcus: “M..ax?”

Little-K1ng: “max?”

Maxwell: “god damn it did i speak fucking ender again or some shit???”

Marcus: “N..no”

Little-K1ng: “n..no.....”

Maxwell: “the fuck happened then? yall look freaked out”

Marcus: “Um”

Little-K1ng: “nevermind! :)!!”

Maxwell: “hm.....if youre sure...”

Marcus: “I must be tired, it’s fine Max! :)”

Maxwell: “youve been sleeping a lot man you sure?”

Marcus: “Yeah, gotta be tired to sleep a lot right”

Maxwell: “I guess”

Little-K1ng: “are you guys...... hungry?”

[The conversation switches to the topic of making brownies and other baked goods. There was also small talk about methods of removing the growing wreathe buds that had been suggested earlier in the day. Mona suggests cutting one of the buds off, if Max could handle it. Jack and Marcus argue over their priorities: their concern for Max and their family respectively. After snipping off a small part of the buds, the following conversation ensures:]

Marcus: “...he’s not bleeding”

donti (e): “can you guys take a look at what mona cut off?”

emuhlee: “well, that part is good?”

Maxwell: “theres some time of fucking liquid ow”

Marcus: “It looks like that...cellulose that comes out of dandelions”

Little-K1ng: “Hhhhhhhhh”

Marcus: “Mona?

donti (e): “is max alright??”

Marcus: “Uh..in pain?”

dreaming: “uh get a towel?”

Marcus: “It’s not a lot”

Maxwell: “that really hurt jesus fucking christ”

Marcus: “Have you never picked a dandelion?

It’s like that”

Little-K1ng: “That's kinda. Gross”

Jack the Observer: “it's not blood though, right?”

Maxwell: “my headache is much worse....”

Little-K1ng: “No not blood”

Marcus: “It’s..

Huh”

donti (e): “blood substitute?”

Marcus: “It stopped”

Jack the Observer: “huh.”

Marcus: “......”

donti (e): “hey what happened to the bud”

Marcus: “Mona

Mona look”

Marcus: “Mona there’s two more”

Maxwell: “God damn it is this fucking Hercules or some shit”

Jack the Observer: “pft”

donti (e): “well.

we can at least look at the bud that was cut off.”

Marcus: “It’s just sitting there”

[The conclusion from this experiment was that the buds have nerve endings, which is why it hurt Maxwell and worsened his headache when it was cut, even after being numbed with ice prior to cutting. People ask about Fetch’s whereabouts. This was his last known update to the document:]

[With this information, people begin to speculate that Fetch might not be back for a while…]

#on:discord #by:maxwell #by:marcus #by:fetch #if the crown fits

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thedistantstorm · 6 years ago

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Phoenix Protocol 03

A Zavala x Female Guardian work.

Summary: When the Traveler’s Light was returned to the Guardians after the defeat of the Cabal, it did not manifest itself the same in everyone. Miyu, an Awoken Warlock, finds herself struggling with her abilities, her Light feeling different and not her own. With her Vanguard preoccupied with grief and all eyes turned to the Reef, she finds herself turning to an unlikely source in an attempt to rediscover her connection to the Light and define what it means for her as a Dawnblade.

Previously

A voice bellows her name, puncturing her concentration in such a way that it feels like coming up for air. “Miyu!”

She knows that voice, she realizes. It’s the Commander.

When the realization fully processes and she realizes she doesn't know how long he's been watching, her head rockets up, the rift and solar fire dissipate immediately. Her hands fall to her sides, covered thankfully by her sleeves. She can feel the tingling prickle of numbness that indicates she’s burned herself severely, despite the rift. She sighs and straightens from her throwing stance.

Zavala jumps down from the spectating balcony dressed in a cotton training tunic and lacking most of his armor, with the exception of his mark. It flaps quietly as he lands on the ground in the arena, knees easily accepting the impact of the fall. He runs toward her, concern evident in the brightness of his eyes and set of his jaw.

“What were you doing?” He stands before her now. “I heard a scream.”

“Oh,” The Warlock sighs. “Sorry, Commander. Something hurt more than I thought it would. I didn’t mean to-” She looks down at his sweat-soaked training gear in surprise. She had expected to be the only one here, today of all days. “-disturb you from your drills?”

The Vanguard Commander nods and she notices his slightly heavier breathing. “It’s fine. You are unharmed?”

“I’m fine,” She agrees.

Ghost hangs nearby, his optic narrowing on her in concern. Zavala looks up at him in turn, and the small being hovers backward, clearly caught. “You are not,” The Vanguard says quietly, “Are you?” His scrutiny is unbearable.

She moves to tuck her arms behind her back, to mimic the pose he usually takes, when he looks over the City from his post in the Tower. If she can get them behind her back, he -

Zavala grabs her left forearm with his right hand. Miyu hisses. His brows raise, eyes narrowing as he turns her palm over and peels back the sleeve of her robe. He gasps. Blistered, bubbling skin, pink and red and black, weeping and angry meets the light of day.

“How did-”

She snatches her arm from his grasp, ignoring the watering of her eyes. “I’m very sorry for interrupting you,” She repeats quietly. “My Ghost will heal me. It’s fine.” She turns her back to him, looks to her partner, and takes several steps before breaking into a run. It’s clear she does not want Zavala to follow her.

The Commander does anyway, taking measured, calm steps, her Ghost at his side, looking fretful. “Miyu is having difficulty with her Light, I’m sure you’ve noticed,” The little Light explains. “After the war… it - we didn’t,” He doesn’t know how to explain it and finally sighs. “It’s different now.”

The duo finds the Warlock braced over one of the sinks in the empty locker room, robe discarded carelessly on the ground, using her right hand - the less burned one - to splash water on her face. Being so pale in complexion, the redness of her eyes and cheeks immediately drew attention to the chaotic swirling of white aura beneath her normally equally light skin.

“Miyu,” Both Titan and Ghost say, before looking at each other in curious surprise. Zavala blinks, but lets her Ghost take the floor.

Ghost speaks. “Miyu, let me heal you,” He calls gently. “That has to hurt.” She cradles the damaged arm against her chest, her undershirt already soaked with sweat and water turning pink with plasma and blood on contact. Her eyes dart to him, and he turns to the Commander. “Give us a moment,” The Ghost implores. “Please.”

Zavala nods and retreats back into the hallway.

Pale light casts a shadow of his hulking form against the stone floor when her Ghost shucks his shell and swathes her in the glow. The Commander hears the combined sigh of Ghost and Guardian, and a quiet metallic gargle when the Ghost speaks to her. “It’s okay,” He’s telling her. Zavala feels a touch rude for listening in, though there’s no way for him to tune them out in the echoing, empty halls. “He’s worried, not mad. Just… talk to him, okay? Maybe he can help.”

Ghost transmats her soiled training robe away for a softer one. Her skin stayed sensitive afterward, sometimes - the Light not healing it all, not really, and he was always mindful of her needs. She held her hand out for him to rest when she exits the locker room, and Ghost drops to her hand - accepting an affectionate nudge of her fingers against his cones - before disappearing in a shower of sparks.

“Your Ghost cares about you a great deal,” Zavala says, echoing previous words. He does not make eye contact, like she’s expecting. She’s not sure if she’s grateful or feels like she’s being treated like a caged animal. “He said you have been experiencing difficulties with your Light, since the War.”

She nods her agreement, looking sheepish. “Both of those things are true.”

This time, he does meet her pale gaze. “Have you talked to Ikora about it? Certainly she’d be willing to help you.”

Miyu looks away, and shrugs. “I’ll do that,” She says, but his eyes don’t leave her face, staying trained on it - reading it - despite the fact that she’s looking at the ground.

“You have, haven’t you,” He intones, gently. “You’ve talked to her about this.”

The sideways pull of her lips in a disapproving frown is a giveaway. “Maybe once or twice,” She admits. Certainly more than that, but she’s not in the business of putting down her Vanguard.

“Does she not listen?”

“She doesn’t understand,” Miyu finally says, a bit more abruptly than she’d planned to. “She doesn’t understand how my Light can be so different from what it was before. I don’t think I’m supposed to use it in the way the Dawnblades do. Not anymore.” A peek up at his face reveals pensive concern, not condemnation. It spurs her onward. “She believes pushing me into the worst situations possible will help me to reconnect. But-”

“That is a terrible idea,” Zavala says, mostly to himself. He looks up at her in surprise, as if he can’t believe he’s said it out loud, but then admits, “While the Light may very well react if you feel threatened, if it does not, the cost…” He trails off, looks back at her, contemplative. The conflicted look on her face tells him that she’s thought of that, as well.

Miyu leans back against the wall, crossing her arms. “How does a Titan - a Sentinel,” She specifies, asking, “Call upon their Ward of Dawn?”

His brows furrow. “Not that I mind,” He holds out both hands as if demonstrating that her question is not unwelcome, “But what does this have to do with our conversation?”

The Awoken Warlock steps past him, looks down the hall to the empty training arena. “I believe that my Light might be better served in a more defensive manner. That perhaps my rift might hold the key.”

Rubbing a hand against his chin, Zavala thinks it over. “Your research,” He recalls. “You are trying to unlock a different type of ability.”

She nods, a little twinge of a smile here and gone when she faces him again. He understood her immediately, and yet Ikora… she didn’t seem to understand despite Miyu’s attempts at being transparent. “I think I might be able to use my Light, specifically, maybe to not hurt myself, or at least let it last longer, if I try something different. Something with a focus on healing. Protecting.” She reaches up for her ashen black hair, combs her fingers through some of the tangles. “After all, isn’t that our purpose? To protect? If I want to reconnect to my Light, I think that might be the way to do it.”

He still gives her Vanguard the benefit of the doubt, saying, “Certainly Ikora would be interested in-”

Miyu shakes her head and Zavala stops short. “Maybe it will change, but…” She shrugs. “She wants me in the Reef. Up until today, I think she wanted me to help find Uldren.” Zavala doesn’t react to the name, though Miyu watches him carefully. “I don’t want anything to do with that.”

“What do you want?” Zavala asks her. Not judgmental. Neutral. Perhaps curious, just a little.

“I want to feel like me again. I want to prevent what happened - what the Cabal did,” Her fists clench. “I don’t ever want it to happen to us, ever again.” She sighs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to unload on you. I know Ghost said you’d hear me out, but this - it isn’t your problem.”

“No,” He agrees. “But perhaps I can help. I’ll show you how my power manifests, and let you determine if the Ward of Dawn could assist you in your search for answers. However, we cannot do it now. My schedule is-”

The apology stumbles from her lips as she realizes how much of his valuable time she’s taken. He was trying to train, too. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

“Stop apologizing, Miyu. It is not your fault I am the Vanguard Commander.” This time, his lips do almost make it to what would be considered a smile, and his tone is nearly teasing. “I lead the Titans in drills most mornings, before dawn, in the training facilities here. You’re welcome to come spectate, if it will help. The schedule should be posted.”

She bows, pressing her hands together. “Thank you,” She chimes. “I appreciate it.”

“I hope you find what you are looking for,” He replies, and his hand finds his way to her shoulder, a gentle squeeze. An affirmation that someone beyond her Ghost might actually care. It makes her flush. “I cannot imagine…”

“It’s difficult,” Miyu admits, voice quiet. “I don’t know if it was because I was in the middle of casting Dawnblade when the Traveler was captured and the Light was ripped from us,” The words are a whisper that she’s not shared with anyone besides Ghost, who was there. “But it feels like it’s all there, you know?” He doesn’t, she knows, but he doesn’t interrupt. She sees the uncomfortable shift in his stance, knows that from his perspective she’s describing something horrific he never hopes to experience. “I can feel the Light there, to be called upon. It just… won’t come out all the way.” She shrugs. “Anyway,” She transitions, not paying attention to the brilliant eyes that soften as they listen to her resolve, “There has to be a reason. I’ll figure it out and persevere. That’s what we do.”

That evening, when she finishes up her late patrols and checks in, Kadi, the postmaster, has a message for her. The frame produces two books, old ones. Tucked within the cover of the first one is a small note, written on thick ivory paper with neat handwriting.

She doesn’t need to know his handwriting to know it’s from him, the two symbols denoting her name in its proper, original form tipping her off. Pre-Collapse Japanese, he’d said, when he learned her name. It brings a smile to her lips. He seemed like the kind of man who would know about languages, how to read and write them. She found herself curious as to what he’d write her, after their encounter earlier in the afternoon.

実優

Perhaps these texts would prove useful. I am not sure how the translation would be made between the Void and Solar energies as they are very different, but it might be worth a read.

I will be focusing on training my new Sentinels in two days’ time, at the place and time we discussed. Afterward, I anticipate being free long enough to answer your questions, should you have any.

-Zavala

Ghost looked down at the paper, then back up at her face and the pleasant surprise he sees there. “See,” He says, “What did I tell you, Yu-mi? He might be able to help. At the very least, he wants to.”

Miyu smiles. “Yes,” She agrees, cradling the books to her chest and letting Ghost rest atop them as they head home for the night. “You never steer me wrong.”

#commander zavala #oc: miyu #zavala x female guardian #zavala x oc #destiny #destiny fanfiction #destiny stories #destiny fan fiction #slowburn #angst #character development #destiny community #post-forsaken #collection: phoenix protocol

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dambehcoffee · 4 years ago

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Its now been 2 months since the initial breakup.

A few days ago, November 14th, I saw him and we spoke.

I just remember being extremely nervous going in, not ready to get my heart broken but also wanting to see him so bad that I went willingly to my own death.

Somehow, by the grace of God, it ended up being my best case scenario. He did miss me. He did want to be together. All of it wasn't a lie. He feels the same way I do towards him. But he's not ready to be in a relationship right now.

A part of me is ok with that. Because I know what wanting to find himself feels like all too well. And it must not have been easy for him.

I really did I want to be mad at him. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was just ... so happy to be around him. I felt normal again. I could breathe. I'm regretful that I wasn't able to fully feel my sorrow around him so that I could be consoled by him. The only person I wanted around to make it better. But I was just so happy.

There's hope there. The want for both of us to be together. But an understanding that maybe it's good that we both take time to better ourselves. As he said, an equal footing. As he said, we are in two very different places in our lives. And hopefully we can be together when we are ready.

He was willing... to appease my parents when it came time for it. I was so scared he would be against it. I had spoken and asked about if he would help me appease them and even go to church maybe once a month to make them happy. I had asked so that maybe... maybe this biggest fear of mine, would be the only way for me to let go and give up. But he didn't say what I thought he'd say. He said he'd be there. It made me cry, the relief I felt hearing that. It did the inverse of forcing myself to move on I think, but still.

We hugged and kissed and cuddled when we shouldn't have. Sexual tensions and touching. Not going all the way. But it felt so good to be able to be that close after so long. We didn't go all the way because I was scared id see him in a bad light. I'm glad we did stop. Because now a few days later, I dont know how I feel. But I dont want it to become resentment and hate. But it was nice that we just fell back into each other. The comfort and attraction was all real. I made sure he wouldn't be able to forget how good we have it too. And it also made me remember how good we did have it. Could have it. Can have it.

When I told him "thanks for giving me closure", for the first time he said that this wasn't closure. Closure means we are closing the door on each other. It made me cry. It was the first time he gave 'us' hope out loud. I had asked him so many times if we were real, if he wanted us to be together, and so on... I was so glad. I still am.

I've been feeling better than before since I saw him. Almost back to normal. I think my brain is either in extreme denial, in hope or blocking everything out. I think of him but I dont feel. It almost feels like he never existed. I'm not sure how long thing will go on. The anxiety of losing him will come back soon I think. But im trying to enjoy being able to breathe for now.

He apologized I think two days after we saw each other that he's a weak man and that he shouldn't have touched me. That he's very sorry if he made me feel terrible. I did shed a tear. Because I was sad that he was sad. Because it maybe did feel a certain way. But he stopped when I asked him to. And held me until my irrational thoughts went away that day. So im thankful for that.

I should be more sad. I'm too much in denial and hope to feel that that day was the last time I'd maybe hold him and talk to him that way. I made my demands. I gave him my letters. I fixed his beanie. I gave him back one of his shirts. I just hope that he does miss me everyday like he said he does. That he comes back to me. I know ill break soon. Just dont know when.

We agreed to touch base around Christmas. Thats in 2 months I think. Having... that date to learn how to be alone. To be ok without him around is daunting. I promised I'd try. I'm not sure if by then I'll come to terms and actually process that I might have lost him forever... but I know that we both want to stay together or be together in this lifetime. I need to be able to get through these 2 months NOT because of excitement that ill see him again, but because I'm ok without having him around. Without counting down the days I get to see him. Just... be ok on my own. Be ok that maybe when christmas comes, he won't feel the same way. A part of me thinks I'm being paranoid but another is skeptical.

I looked at his pictures before writing this. I almost feel like he's a stranger now. Its weird what my brain is doing. I think im slowly going back to how I saw him when we first met. I'm starting to see maybe some flaws. Why am I so in love with this man? How dare he hurt me? Leave me? How selfish is he? What was so great about him? Why was so dependent on him? I dont understand why and how my brain can think this way, maybe self preservation. I dont know yet. But I do know that today, I went out and bought seeds. Forget me not and sunflower. So that I can visually see my growth and time passed. I know I felt a certain amount of anxiety in case I didnt find the seeds today. I needed it to be today that I did it. I'm not sure if they'll survive or germinate in the weird ecocube I bought, so I might order new seeds. But I do know I tried. I do know when I force myself to really think about losing him, a feeling of dread starts to encompass me, so I stop.

Its been 2 months since I lost what could be the love of my life. My maybe soulmate. I dont know... how ill be in the future. What will happen to us... im scared to think of it. But I trust him, bet on us and myself that we'll make it work. ... I really pray for it.

He helped me... get that internship at autodesk. I'm happy I got it. I'm happy he helped me calm down. Was it his fault that I was so broken in the first place? Maybe but still... I have now something to anchor myself for the winter. At least for the winter. Something I was dreading... because I won't get to spend it with him. So many things we will miss in 2021. I really hope he comes back soon...

I miss you buba. I know i do. For right now though, I'll try saving myself. See you at Christmas.

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evellyynn7 · 7 years ago

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That Night pt.2 of Meeting Mr. Wrong

“It all started on a dark and cold night, November 7th to be exact.” I said very quietly almost regretting doing this. Dean was such a good listener, his eyes looked at me with such compassion as i told the whole story.

“Lets do something crazy tonight guys!... unless some of you are gonna be little wusses” Steve was looking at us 3 girls, Nancy Wheeler, Barbra Holland... and me. He was of course mostly referring to Barb since she looked the most nerdy out of our bunch, he thought we would be at least a little bit easier to loosen up and i mean that in a dirty way too.

Billy Hardgrove was there along with Tommy H and Carol. They of course were there to get lucky and wasted while my 3 friends and i were just trying to up our popularity status. “Hey here’s a clever idea, why don’t we play a little game to help these newbies ‘loosen up’ Billy said with a wink to me and his famous smirk. “That may be the only smart thing you’ve said all day Steve” joked. The others laughed and agreed while the rest of were nervous at first but warmed up to the idea while Barb was always against this ‘loosening up’ game.

“Alright, fuck it, how do you play the damn game” i couldn’t believe i said that, i guess that was just all that naughty that’s been shunned away from my good girl act. “Oooo this pretty little girl has a naughty side?” Billy said this in a shocked but intrigued way. “C’mon Billy just tell us how to play the damn game” Nancy saw how i was learning to just go with it so she followed along. “ Okay book worm don’t get aggressive” Billy said this with less interest and more annoyance of Nancy. “Okay so newbies have to prove themselves to us by doing some dares that are given to you by yours truly” he winked and let out a puff while gesturing to his friends. Steve interrupted fast “So i’ll start with miss wheeler, i da...” Billy cut him off with anger in his eyes. “But my good friend forgot to mention the best part!, if you guys cant complete the dare then you have to strip one item each time” he seemed proud of his lustful command.

After several halfly and fully covered dares, there laid 4 girls in either just a bra and panty or maybe they still had a sweater or jeans on. I was one of the girls in just a bra and panty but i never felt so alive and bad but i loved it not to mention i was far past drunk. I knew that barb felt uncomfortable the whole time and so did the whole group so they went easy on her and she just had to take off her coat. “Ok so this one is for Liv over there.” Billy said grabbing my hand while I lounged on the chair carelessly with my drunken and half covered gorgeous bod. His eyes lingered and he couldn’t hide his blushing and lustful eyes. This drove me crazy cause he was so handsome and sexy but i didn’t want to get to far, i just wasn’t ready for anything that big. I stood up very unsteady and barb saw that, she came over and told me that we should all go and that she would drive. “I think we all had enough fun why don’t we start heading home, you don’t look to well Liv.” “I’m fine i don’t need you to be a mom right now, why don’t you go you never fit in anyways, and don’t say that i don’t ‘look good’ for all i know your probably just jealous.” I knew right after i said it that i screwed up but it was too late. “ You know what, im done trying to be a good friend, i will go home and good luck trying to get home like that, maybe one of your new ‘friends’ can sober up before driving.” she left in tears running towards the woods. “Whoa whats up her ass!” Billy laughed and began kissing my neck but i just stood there in shock and a dazed confusion.

Later that night Billy and i had made our way to Steve’s couch while tommy and carol took a spare bedroom and Steve led Nancy to his room. I had a feeling of what was going to happen but i was not in my right mind to fully stop it. He leaned in and starting kissing me slow then it suddenly turned harsh and passionate, i could feel his hands making there way up my thigh and i let out a small gasp. “Hey im not sure i wanna take this that far“ i mumbled against his lips but he ignored me and just kept going further up. I heard a faint scream and broke the kiss. “Did you hear that?” “Hear what doll, the only thing i wanna be hearing is you moaning my name.” he smirked then slowly went in again and then bit my bottom lip slowly. Little did i know that it was barb coming back to drive us home since she was actually a good friend who cared for us regardless and not just someone who was only trying to get in my pants. “ Billy i dont know about this” “Oh cmon your just shy but ill be gentle and then all youll feel will be pure bliss” he then lowered me on my back and made his way down by kissing me in every spot that sent chills to my body so i let go and just went with it.

The next day Barb wasnt at school and nanc and i just thought that she was just mad at us but as a week went by we were beyond worried untill 2 days ago when we heard about her on the news, thats when our worried hearts turned into broken grieving hearts. The only good thing was that news report landed on a saturday and i could be a wreck the whole weekend and process things before heading back to school. Thats when things got crazy and people started suspecting her best friends and the sad truth was that i knew something others didnt, this slight piece of evidence could make everybody i care about turn on me.

“And thats how it all went down Dean, I know i sound absolutely terrible but i want justice for barb.” He was looking at me with wide eyes and a dreamy gaze but i couldnt quite make out what he was thinking. “Wow olivia im shocked but so happy you told me, everything will get better from here on out” he gave me a reassuring smile and leaded me back to class and he happened to casually lay his hand on my waist and guide me, then whispered i think you sounded like a strong and beautiful girl for what you had to go through but im also gonna sound like a douche when i say this but im glad you didnt go after your friend cause it might have gotten you too and i wouldnt be able to meet the strong and beautiful girl standing right in front of me.” i blushed like crazy before walking into the class, once again all eyes were on me and Dean noticed so decided to do something about that. He walked in and said, “Every body should know that your classmate Olivia has helped this case tremendously and you all should give her a smile the next time you see her” “ i should be seeing you around miss hopper” he smiled and winked at you in a professional manner but you could tell it was far from that.

A week has past and your uncle hopper went away for a couple of days to solve this case with the winchester brothers, leaving you to watch El. Today she went to go hangout with her bunch while you stayed home and catched up on some vampire diaries. *knock knock* i was shocked to hear a knock on my door, maybe my uncle came back early i thought. I get up from my comfy spot and open the door to a pleasant surprise. “Dean!! how are you? we haven’t spoken in a while and i thought you were supposed to be with my uncle” i was confused yet happy since all my memories had been good with dean and i trusted him on something that meant so much to me. “ Well your uncle asked either me or my brother to check up on you and i happily agreed” he flashed his dazling smile and walked in. I sat on the couch and he sat next to me, for the past few hours we caught up and got to know each other on a whole other level, it was like weve always knew each other and time seemed to fly. I showed him my room and my personal things including some secrets. “ Ive always wanted to tell you this but i think your absolutely gorgeous.” he kept his beautiful blue eyes latched on me and leaned in for a kiss.I went in and soon enough we were naked on my bed over heated and satisfied. “You can spend the night” i said smiling at him with my fingers tracing his bare abs. “Im sure theyve got this covered for tonight” he smiled down at me and kissed my forhead, then we fell asleep in an instant.

The next morning was amazing, waking up to a shirtless sexy Dean was priceless and epecially getting to watch his cute face sleep. He woke up with a smile and said “ Mornin gorgeous, how did you sleep, i know i slept well with you by my side” he pecked my lips “I could say the same” I got up to kiss him more passionalty and put some clothes on in the bathroom but as i was leaving i felt his eyes heavy on my naked body. I shut the door and got dressed but i stayed in the bathroom because i heard my uncle enter my room screaming his head off! Dean was shook and got up fast trying to defend himself while my uncle was saying “I cant belive you!! i practically told you to babysit her for a few hours and i come home to you naked in her bed doing who knows what! time to leave Mr.Wrong, youve helped enough. As i finished getting ready i walked out with shame all over my face and my uncle telling me to go for somebody my own age.

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mcstarr · 8 years ago

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drunk boyfriend tag

summary: dan and phil get drunk and film the boyfriend tag (similar to what shane dawson did) tags: alcohol, so much sweetness and cuteness your teeth will hurt, extreme fluff by: angelboydjh on tumblr word count: ~1.8k first fic posted!! please, ignore any mistakes and reblog and like!! ilu!! send in requests for fics :-) ﾟ*｡:(人´v｀*)☆ﾟ:｡*ﾟ dan and phil got a little drunk. they originally got out some Ribena, which is completely unharmful, until dan spotted vodka on the kitchen counter, which they only keep for parties. its almost gone, with a half a bottle left, so dan thought of an idea. "phil, lets get drunk." phil looked at dan confused; dan never really likes drinking as much as he used to, hes grown, the satisfaction of being drunk doesnt really thrill as much, and its the same with phil. "why?" asked phil, sipping his Ribena. "because why not! we have no meeting tomorrow, we are bored out of our minds, and itll be fun! we'll even be safe, we can control each other well." phil thought about it. he never really likes hangovers, who does? he gets them bad, and he knows dan gets them worse, but dan was right, they were extremely bored and had no meetings tomorrow. phil shrugged, and replied with a sure, causing dan to jump up with joy. dan grabbed the bottle and went to phils room, closing the door, and sitting on his bed. he opens to bottle and pours a lot in his drink, doing the same to phil. there is now many 4 shots full left of the drink and dan was happy he rationed out well. "wanna do a toast?" asked phil. "with our vodka filled ribena?" chuckled dan. phil nodded, giggling a little. "why not?" phil responded, and dan nodded agreeing. they lifted their glass cups up and they look at each other. "to us!" dan laughed at the cliché, but echoed phil, and a clink noise was heard when the touched glasses. dan downed about half of his drink in that one sip, phil only taking a baby sip. phil made a face, hating the taste of vodka. dan hid his disgust, looking at phil. "now we wait." dan took another sip, already feeling slightly dizzy. *:･ﾟ✧ dan was fully drunk. he was giggling, putting his head on phil, slurring his words, all of it. phil was only tipsy. he didnt drink much yet, only about half of his drink. dan, of course, drank all of it, even the rest in the bottle! "phil!" dan slurred out, and phil glanced over slowly, so he doesnt get dizzy, and raised his eyebrow. "we should do a boyfriend tag." phil thought about this. is he that drunk that he doesnt really care if they do one or not? yes. he doesnt really care, its not like itll be posted. phil knows better than that. "sure." phil got up to get his camera from the other side of the room, and dan plopped on the bed laughing at who knows what. it took phil about 2 minutes to set up everything for filming, and an extra 5 minutes to find good goddamn questions. he finally found some question, a total of twenty. he can barely read them because of his blurry vision, and since he didnt have neither his contacts or glasses on. so he grabbed his glasses from the bed side and put them on to see if itll help. nope. he took another sip of his drink and locked his phone. he'll cross that bridge when he gets to it. he gets up and turns on the camera, praying to god its in focus. "dan, its on, we are filming." once those words left phils mouth, dan shot up from phils bed and looked at phil. "okay, okay, okay, okay," he kept repeating that until he finally was next to phil on the bed facing the camera. phil giggled at dan, dan looking at him with his red cheeks. "okay, ready, babe?" asked phil, seeing double of dan. dan nodded, and smiled at phil and then at the camera. "okay," phil breathed in and then 'took in his persona'. "hey guys!" he said cheerfully, but all it did is make him dizzy. dan was like, on top of phil, so hes grateful that he was, or phil wouldve fallen over. "im here with dan." phil pointed at him, and dan waved, his white oversized cat shirt being exposed, and you could even see his naked legs, since hes wearing shorts. "we are doing the boyfriend tag." phil said slowly, and dan nodded jumping up and down on the bed. "phil is my boyfriend! boyfriend phil! philip lester, boyfriend!" he yelled, making phil giggle. "okay, want ask the questions, or do u want me go ask them?" asked phil to dan. "ask me the questions! then we will do it back!" dan suggested, and phil nodded encouragingly. "okay, first question." phil unlocked his phone and read it very carefully. "when is my birthday?" he asked. "bonus points for the zodiac sign!" "january 30th, that makes you a......" he strung out the 'a' to think. "an Aquarius! aquarium." he laughed, and phil chuckled. "correct baby." he leaned in to kiss dan, and dan kissed him, tasting of vodka and ribena. "okay, now," phil was going to go to the next question, but dan protested. "now do mine! do mine!" dan pouted, crossing his arms. "june 11th! youre a gemini." phil stuttered out, making dan laugh. "lucky guess." he muttered jokingly. "next question," phil scrolled down the page. "where did i grow up?" "im too drunk for this phil!!" he moaned out. "the north! thats all youre getting." "well, youre not wrong." said phil. "ill give you the point." "what about me?" asked dan. "the south." "ugh! exact place!" "not fair, you didnt do that for me!" "ugh, whatever." dan pouted again. "wipe that pout off your face princess." phil whispered, grabbing dans chin. "im just kidding philly!" dan kissed phil, getting him off guard. "okay, next," phil asked. "whats my middle name?" "michael! these are too easy! i want harder ones. test me!" dan groaned out, and phil rolled his eyes. "okay, okay," phil said. he scrolled down to another website, which had different questions. "how about this: where was our first date?" "EASY!" he yelled, throwing his hands up. "well, kinda," he muttered. "its hard!" "well, tell me." phil said suggestively, leaning closer to dan. "we first met of course at the train station," he muttered out. "and then we went straight to your house, and, did things. does that count as a first date?" this took him way too long to say, as he was stuttering madly. "yes, it does. great job, cutie." phil said happily and leaned in for a kiss. "okay, let me ask the question!" phil started to give him the phone, but dan refused, saying he wants go make one up. "whats the first thing you notice about me?" he asked a bashful. "your smile." phil said simply. no explanation was needed to make dan feel all warm inside. dan covered his face and leaned on phils shoulder, grinning like mad. once he got up, he looked at phil, seeing his wonderful, eyes. "you know what mine is." he muttered, almost inaudible. it was phils turn to blush. they lean in and kiss once again, but longer than before. when they pulled apart, dan was seeing actual stars, and couldnt even understand what was happening, completely forgot about the video. "oh my god, i love you so much." he said in a shush tone, with phils hand on his cheek. they were only a few inches away from each other, and phil loved it. phil was exploding every inch of dans face, and so was dan. every moment phil made, it made him more dizzy and more dazed, but he didnt care. within a few moments, they both locked eyes, and somehow, both remembered they were recording. "uh, one more question," phil stuttered out, as dan looked around for his almost empty drink. "okay, last question. what is my favorite color?" "easy, blue." dan said, as he drank his final sips of his drink before crushed it and threw it. "hey!" phil protested, looking over at the cup. "ill pick it ip later, babe." dan slurred out almost incoherently. "whats mine?" "easy, pink." phil mocked. dan smiled softly, putting his arms around phils neck, phil put this hands on dans waist. "what kind of pink?" he muttered, with his sloppy grin on his face, his curly hair perfect in tack still. (which surprised phil) "pastel." dan groaned jokingly, letting his head drop down onto phils shoulders. "oh my god, i tried to trick you!" dan yelled. "well, you didnt. 8 years of friendship pays off." phil joked. dan put his head on phils shoulder, his head facing the camera. "can we finish? i wanna cuddle with you watch disney movies." phil chuckled and nodded. "we'll finish, lets do the outro." phil tapped dan, so he can get up from his shoulder, but dan didnt move a muscle, indicating hes not moving. "okay, well, goodbye everyone, please like a subscribe to me and dans channel, and our gaming channel! love you!" he waved and awkwardly looked at dan. "i need to turn off that camera baby." dan groaned and got up from phils shoulder. phil got up and turned off the camera, sitting right on his bed again next to dan. "can we just cuddle?" phil can tell dan was getting tired, and getting all drained. he gets like this when hes drunk, but also after recording videos. "of course, princess." phil laid down, then wrapping his arms around dan who is not next to them. they peacefully fall asleep, with the lights on and phils snoring. *:･ﾟ✧ it was the morning, and phil is posting his premade video on lessamazingphil, just a quick vlog from florida. its taking surprisingly long to process, since its only 2 minutes, but phil didnt question it. its almost done, so phil went to go see dan, who has the worst hangover ever. "how are you baby?" asked phil, laying next to dan. "better, how bad was it?" he asked, and phil laughed. "you were fine, not as bad as a few months ago, but you were not any better." dan groaned, and at that moment his phone dinged. he unlocked his phone to see the notification, YouTube popping up, and it was phils new video. "uh, phil." dan said. "yes?" phil hummed. "you posted the wrong video." "what?" phil yelled a little too loudly for dan, as he backed away and gave phil his phone in just one beat. "i uploaded our drunk boyfriend tag." dans eyes widen. "we filmed a video? no way, i dont remember this. did we kiss?" "i was drunk too!" "well, i would keep it up." "why?" "we already made this mistake once, lets just let them have what they want."

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chenziee · 7 years ago

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Do you have scars?

[AO3]

Words: 3678 Pairing: Ereri Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Mentions of Anxiety, Levi's endless patience, Established Relationship, implied dangerous lab habits, Fluff, really, the whole thing is just one big ball of mush, Mina is the best character to use as you need, and i'm sorry about that

Summary: Eren's exhausted at the beginning of the new semester. Levi isn't willing to give up his date. Compromises must be made.

There were only a few minutes of Eren’s last lecture of the day left and since Levi was planning take him out on a date after the hectic week, Levi headed for the parking lot to wait for his boyfriend. He settled on the hood of Eren’s car, laying his bag next to him, and pulled out his phone just as it vibrated with an incoming text. Levi clicked his tongue, swiping at the screen to read the message from Hanji.

>> hows life with new roommate?

Levi rolled his eyes and went to reply but apparently, Hanji wasn’t done as the device vibrated again. And again.

>> i bet you dont even miss me :( >> judging by how you never talk to me anymore :‘((( >> and by how dutifully you go wait for him as soon as you get out early for once ;);););););)

Levi blinked at the barrage of texts, frowning at the last one in particular. His eyes rose up to glower towards one of the windows on the second floor of the science building, which was oh-so-conveniently adjacent to the campus’ parking lot. And of course, as expected, there Hanji was, hanging from the window of her shared office, the hand holding her phone laxly waving at him as she grinned stupidly, dressed in her dirty lab coat and with protective glasses perched on her head, making her hair stick out in all directions.

Levi’s frown deepened before glaring back at his phone to fire a reply.

<< If you drop your goddamn phone, I’m not lending you money for a new one. What are you even doing in the office dressed like that; shouldn’t you be in the lab or some shit? << And yes, I don’t miss having to drag you to the shower so you actually wash. << And stop spying on people.

The distinct, if muffled by the distance, sound of her laughter carried over to his ears as she read each text and Levi, despite his better judgement, felt the corners of his moth twitch in amusement. It had only been a week since she moved out so Eren could move in in her place, but he had missed her. She was his best friend, as astonishing as that was to everyone. Levi himself especially.

He jumped as the vibrations started again, jolting him from his reverie.

>> dwdw im not erwin ;)

Levi smirked at the reminder of how Erwin, graceful, confident Ewin, dropped and broke his phones on a regular basis. It became a running joke in their friend group; they even got him an old Nokia 3310 for his birthday one year. To say Erwin wasn’t exactly amused would be understating “the displeasure he felt over such a treatment from his closest friends.” And to say said friends were stricken by shame afterwards would be a blatant lie. They laughed about it - and at Erwin’s face every time they did - even now, several years later.

>> im going back down in a few. Just giving the great gods of chemistry the time to work their magic :-* >> meanie :((( >> im not spying you just happened to walk into my field of vision :P

<< I’ll remind you of that once you drop it. << Right. Just don’t burn down the building. And I’m not mean, just feeling sympathetic towards Moblit. << Tell that to the freshman from last week.

Levi’s lips stretched wider and wider as he typed, looking up with each message to see Hanji’s expressions. From his distance, it wasn’t as clear as he’d like, but still he could make out the exaggerated frown on her face. Suddenly, her head shot up to send a glare at him, sticking out her tongue in the process, only succeeding in making Levi smirk in victory, before she started typing furiously again.

>> i swear you forget to shut off the burner ONE TIME... >:( >> ill let you know that moblit hasnt had a single complaint since i moved in -__- >> their own fault. they shouldn’t be making out in the lot :P

<< You left some sodium right next to it, if Armin is to believe. And he is. << That’s because he has the spine of a sine function. And you haven’t started stinking the place up yet.

>> hey at least i hadnt dropped it into the sink? :D :D :D >> excuse you mr clean freak???????? >:((( >> math nerd!!!!!! >> ammonia man!!!

Levi couldn’t stop the chuckle from escaping him. He went to type reply before Hanji could come up with more ridiculous insults just as the first students entering the parking lot caught his eye.

<< If there’s anyone smelling of rotten eggs, that you’d be you, shitty four eyes. << Anyway, gotta go. Eren will be here soon.

>> i was thinking more along the lines of chemical burns and destroying your mucous membrane o.O but disgusting smell works too i guess? :D :D >> k. say hi to my replacement for me :’( :D

Levi slowly looked up at her with a straight face, making sure to roll his eyes extra hard so she’d be able to see it. (He doubted she could, but he was sure she got the message anyway. At least her laughter said so.)

He watched, unimpressed, as Hanji abruptly stopped shaking with amusement and instead started fumbling to save her phone from the unfortunate fate Levi foretold it, when his ears perked up at the sound of Eren’s voice. It was faint, he couldn’t make out the words, only the light tone it carried, but he could pick it up anyway. And it filled him with equal parts warmth and dread. How scary was it that he could tell his voice apart from the maybe twenty, thirty others in the open space of the parking lot, from a distance in which all the noise just blended into one giant pain in the ass? Very scary.

Levi shook his head to chase the thoughts away. It shouldn’t be scary. It shouldn’t be but it was. And Levi was big, bad, scary man, who (accidentally) left children crying and lesser adults cowering in his wake. He shouldn’t be letting himself be turned into a trembling teenager experiencing his first love. Especially after literal years he’d been with the guy.

His hand twitched with the urge to slap himself and Levi had to stop himself from following up on it. Instead, he took a deep breath and ran his eyes over the small crowd to locate his boyfriend, which he succeeded at fast, the boy being taller than most. He was smiling and Levi’s own lips stretched a little as well at the sight. Fucking ray of sunshine that smile was. He was pretty sure if Hanji were next to him, she’d be making fun of his ‘love-struck puppy eyes’ as she liked to call it. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised to find a text saying something about that later. Yet, in that moment, Levi couldn’t even bring himself to care.

Next to Eren was walking a small, reasonably cute girl, who was looking up at him with almost equally adoring expression as Levi was, blinking at him prettily and leaning too close to be considered friendly.

Noticing this for the first time while looking for the reason for Eren’s amusement, Levi felt torn between pride and the need to stake claim. Staying true to his nature, however, he stayed put, only watching carefully with a neutral expression while imagining what he would do if he were to do it. Pushing Eren against the car and flipping the girl and everyone else watching off being the most reasonable of his fantasies.

Levi watched calmly as the two came closer and closer, the girl lightly touching Eren’s arm. Levi’s eyes narrowed, glaring at her. As if sensing his menacing stare, she turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting Levi’s darkened ones, and suddenly she stopped in her tracks, as if burned. At the same time, Levi realized he knew the girl. She was one of his own students in the elective course he’d started teaching this semester as a part of his doctorate. ‘Well,’ he thought, ‘this will be interesting.’

Eren, noticing his companion wasn’t next to him, stopped as well, questioning, “What’s wrong?”

She looked at him blankly, before opening her mouth and immediately, Levi was glad they were already within earshot – if he strained his ears. “Eren, did you... do something?”

Eren blinked, a confused expression adorning his face and Levi had to bite his bottom lip not to laugh.

Seeing Eren was not comprehending, she gestured carefully in Levi’s general direction. Eren turned to look and Levi was graced with being able to watch his expression change with surprise and then melt into a soft, happy smile before a chuckle escaped him.

“Oh, that’s Levi. You know, the guy I said I just moved in with?” He shook his head and started walking again, nodding for her to follow.

She did a few hurried steps to catch up, lowering her voice significantly, obviously, trying to prevent Levi from hearing her. “Oh. I.. He teaches one of my electives; he’s scary, I thought... I don’t know...”

Now Eren laughed fully, smiling at Levi as he replied, “He is scary, isn’t he?”

Levi scowled at him as Eren winked in response. Levi felt a sudden urge to throw something at his boyfriend. Unfortunately, the only things at hand were either his phone or his books, neither of which he was willing to throw in fear of hurting either the thing or Eren. Or both.

“Yeah.” The girl (Levi couldn’t remember what her name was, couldn’t remember what the name of a single person he thought was) said in defeat. “Is he really your roommate? Isn’t he older than us?”

Levi almost rolled his eyes as Eren smiled. They were pretty much standing in front of him now and still talking as he wasn’t there. “I’m actually the same age as him. We used to be classmates. Also, not roommate,” he added with amusement as he leaned in to kiss Levi on the lips.

Levi took a great pleasure in giving the girl a challenging look as he returned the kiss gladly, even as he shoved Eren off immediately after. She looked crestfallen, her face turning bright red. Eren didn’t notice, still blissfully oblivious to her flirting. He only continued looking at Levi, questioning, “Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Finished early; thought I’d wait for you.”

“You were just being lazy and thought I could give you ride,” Eren said in a fake, hurt tone.

Levi smirked, teasing back, “Of course. Why else would I be sitting on your dirty ass car for the most dreadful ten minutes of my life?”

Eren scoffed. “Hey, I had the car washed just yesterday.”

Levi reached over to tug Eren closer with a cheeky glint to his eyes. “Only because you knew I’d kick your ass if I saw it filthy.”

Eren looked like he was going to protest but their conversation got interrupted by someone awkwardly clearing their throat. They simultaneously looked back to realize they had completely forgotten they weren’t alone.

Eren’s face turned pink while Levi only raised an eyebrow as the girl shuffled uncomfortably.

“Uhm, right,” Eren mumbled, scratching his head sheepishly. “Mina, this is Levi. Levi, Mina. Shit, you already knew that. Right. Sorry.”

Ah, so her name was Mina. Levi was sure this time he’d remember it for maybe 10 seconds longer.

Eren cleared his throat, shaking the awkward off of himself before he turned back at Levi. “Anyway, I promised Mina a ride. Do you mind if we drop her off?”

Levi glanced at Mina, who now looked positively horrified. “No, it’s okay!” she squeaked hurriedly, shaking her head. “Your... boyfriend...” she still looked like she didn’t really believe it. Levi wasn’t sure whether that was because of the gay thing or the teacher thing but he felt like that didn’t really matter. He was immensely enjoying making her uncomfortable either way. “Levi is here and I don’t want to intrude.”

Eren frowned. “No, I promised. It’s really okay, it’s not like you live that far.”

“But-“

Levi rolled his eyes, saying in a tone that refused arguments, “Get inside, brat.”

Eren looked at Mina who was left gaping and shrugged, “You heard the nice man.” Levi slapped his hip and Eren laughed, finally fishing out his keys to unlock his car. But Levi frowned slightly at the sound of his giggle. It didn’t sound right. He couldn’t put his finger on it; it just didn’t sound so... carefree as it usually did. Strained. He tried to shake the feeling off but before Eren left his side to walk to the driver’s side of the car, he briefly squeezed his knee, almost desperately, and Levi’s stomach sank.

Eren, as if nothing happened, turned towards Mina, telling her to sit wherever. She still hesitated, glancing carefully at Levi, but after the man glared at her she finally moved, probably scared of what he’d do to her if she didn’t comply, and she all but jumped inside the car, settling in the seat behind the driver.

Levi shot Eren one last look, meeting his gaze briefly as Eren looked at him questioningly, silently asking what was wrong. ‘You tell me,’ Levi thought. Knew better than to question him now, however, so he took a deep breath and slid off the hood, walking to the passenger’s side. “By the way, Hanji says hi,” he mentioned conversationally instead.

Eren paused in opening his door as his eyebrows shot up. “You saw her? She wasn’t in the lab for once? Every time I go see her, she’s not in the office.”

“I wouldn’t say I saw her but...” Levi trailed off, nodding towards the upper floors of the neighboring building before sliding into the passenger seat.

Eren looked up to where he knew Hanji’s group’s window was, squinting at the curtains someone was obviously using to hide behind. He shook his head, finally getting in himself. “Doesn’t she realize we can totally see her?” Eren wondered out loud, cocking his head to the side and Levi chuckled.

“Honestly, sometimes I really can’t tell what she does and doesn’t realize.”

Eren just hummed and turned the key in the ignition, rolling out of the parking spot.

The drive to Mina’s place was silent save for her timid instructions and Eren’s affirmatives. Levi took the time to observe the other man, but really, it scared him how much he didn’t even have to try to see it. Eren’s driving was erratic, like he was struggling to stay focused. A far cry from his normal calm and relaxed style. He was going too fast before he caught himself speeding, his grip on the steering wheel was too much, making him take the turns sharper than needed be. He had trouble changing gears once or twice, not pushing the stick shift far enough. It was obvious the people in the car with him were the only thing keeping the cries of frustration in. Every movement he made sent a sharp pain through Levi’s gut.

He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t say anything with the girl still there. So he did the only thing he could in that situation, even if he hated it. He waited. Levi closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath, starting to gnaw on his lower lip. He could only hope Eren wouldn’t kill them in this state before they got to be alone.

Mina’s “That’s my house; you can drop me off here” could not have come sooner in Levi’s opinion. He turned back to look at the girl as Eren pulled over but really, it was just so he could watch Eren. As soon as the car was in park, Eren closed his eyes for a moment, and to Levi it looked like he was praying. Maybe he was.

When he opened his eyes again, it was to give Mina a winning smile as she thanked them for the ride. Levi wanted to cringe at how fake it looked but Mina apparently didn’t notice, judging by how she smiled in return. Then again, Eren was an excellent actor and even Levi needed to be slapped in the face with reality before he started seeing the cracks more clearly.

As soon as goodbyes were said and Mina turned away, Levi carefully put a comforting hand on Eren’s thigh. “Do you want me to drive?”

He could feel Eren tense up and the sound of the engine rang loudly in silence of the car. Levi could see the inner battle raging inside the other as neither of them moved. Finally, Eren gulped before opening his mouth to utter a single word, so quietly Levi almost didn’t hear. “Please.”

Levi squeezed his thigh in reassurance. “Of course.” When Eren didn’t make any move to get out of the car, Levi continued softly. “We can switch now?”

At that Eren resolutely shook his head and immediately pulled away from the drive way of Mina’s house. Levi frowned in confusion and Eren gulped again before elaborating, “Not here. Mina would see.”

Levi blinked. He didn’t see Eren’s point. So what if she sees? There’s a million explanations why they might want to switch. Wisely, Levi didn’t voice his opinion. He had long since learned not to question Eren’s many irrational fears and now mostly let his boyfriend to lead the way, going with what he was comfortable with and just continued throwing assurances and compliments at him. Nothing good ever came from trying to reason with him over what people might or might not think if he, for example, went alone to eat somewhere. Only screams and tears and accusations of ‘you don’t understand what it’s like to live like this!’ Four attempts were more than enough for Levi to understand he should never oppose or question Eren and his wild fantasies.

Eren turned the corner and after confirming there was nobody walking down the street, he stopped again and jerkily got out. Levi followed, circling the car at a slower pace than Eren was. As they passed each other, he tried to grab Eren’s hand briefly but as soon as he made contact, Eren’s whole boy pulled away from him. Levi wasn’t even surprised. It was just sad resignation weighing down on him.

As soon as he was sitting again in the passenger seat Eren kicked off his shoes and pulled them up against his chest. Levi shot him a concerned look before putting the car in gear again, taking off. He only spoke up once they were back on the main street. “Did something happen? Or are you just tired?” he asked carefully, choosing his words to sound as not accusing as he could go while still getting to the point.

He heard Eren sigh sharply, as if he was about to snap back at him, but then he paused and suddenly Levi watched the tension leave his body as Eren sagged in his seat, his head dropping against his knees. It took him a while to gather enough strength to mumble an answer, “Just tired. Exhausted. I don’t know why, it’s not like they want too much from us yet.”

Levi shook his head, stopping at a red light. “It’s normal. School just started, it will take a while to get back into the rhythm of things,” he said, looking at Eren with a sure look in his eyes.

Eren sighed closing his eyes. “I know. But it seems like it’s never been this bad before.”

“Well,” Levi started, not sure if his next words were a good idea just as the light turned green again. “You didn’t go to therapy every week before. That’s fucking exhausting even without school.”

Eren made a face but didn’t comment, instead looking out of the window. Levi took it as a small victory and let out a quiet sigh of relief.

They were silent for a bit before Eren spoke up, changing the subject. “Where are we going anyway?”

Levi shrugged as he answered, “I actually wanted to take you out on a date.”

Eren looked back at him, a hesitant look in his eyes, biting on his lower lip. Obviously he wasn’t in the mood for anything but sitting back and ignoring the world. “Where?” he asked instead of outright saying no and Levi was glad for it. He smiled, blindly reaching out to touch Eren in reassurance.

“I was planning dinner, but seeing you now, I’m thinking more a dumb movie and a drive. What do you say?”

From the corner of his eye he could see the warm smile that spread on Eren’s lips and in turn, warmth spread through Levi’s chest at the knowledge he’d made that smile appear there.

“I fucking love you,” Eren said with certainty, not a hint of hesitation in either his voice or his expression. “Do we have a blanket, and can we stop by Starbucks?”

“Love you, too, Sunshine.” Levi said, in return, smiling. Then he cocked his head to the side in thought. “Not sure about the blanket but if there isn’t one in the trunk, it’s not like we can’t buy one. And when have I ever said no to Starbucks?”

“Well, last winter you threatened to burn the mall down if we went inside,” Eren reminded with a raised eyebrow.

Levi rolled his eyes in response. “That was because that would be the fourth time that day and there’s only so much gingerbread I can take before I’m sick of it.”

“Nobody said you had to get a gingerbread latte again.”

“You do not go into a Starbucks in the middle of winter and not get a gingerbread latte. Besides, even if I didn’t, you and Hanji would get it and then the smell would be all around me anyway.”

Eren laughed, leaning over to press a kiss to Levi’s cheek. “Thank you.”

Levi smiled, happy Eren was feeling better. “You’re welcome, brat.”

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#katie pretends to fic #snk #ereri #eren #levi #oneshot #series #and the saga of Eren-can't-catch-a-break-because-I-keep-projecting continues #anxiety #depression #self-harm #(in other parts of the series but just in case)#don't throw sodium into water #or let it catch on fire if you're not prepared for it #I'm not kidding #one angel

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ella-the-vamp-blog · 8 years ago

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Dan and Phil's boyfriend tag drunk video fanfic

dan and phil got a little drunk. they originally got out some Ribena, which is completely unharmful, until dan spotted vodka on the kitchen counter, which they only keep for parties. its almost gone, with a half a bottle left, so dan thought of an idea. “phil, lets get drunk.” phil looked at dan confused; dan never really likes drinking as much as he used to, hes grown, the satisfaction of being drunk doesnt really thrill as much, and its the same with phil. “why?” asked phil, sipping his Ribena. “because why not! we have no meeting tomorrow, we are bored out of our minds, and itll be fun! we’ll even be safe, we can control each other well.” phil thought about it. he never really likes hangovers, who does? he gets them bad, and he knows dan gets them worse, but dan was right, they were extremely bored and had no meetings tomorrow. phil shrugged, and replied with a sure, causing dan to jump up with joy. dan grabbed the bottle and went to phils room, closing the door, and sitting on his bed. he opens to bottle and pours a lot in his drink, doing the same to phil. there is now many 4 shots full left of the drink and dan was happy he rationed out well. “wanna do a toast?” asked phil. “with our vodka filled ribena?” chuckled dan. phil nodded, giggling a little. “why not?” phil responded, and dan nodded agreeing. they lifted their glass cups up and they look at each other. “to us!” dan laughed at the cliché, but echoed phil, and a clink noise was heard when the touched glasses. dan downed about half of his drink in that one sip, phil only taking a baby sip. phil made a face, hating the taste of vodka. dan hid his disgust, looking at phil. “now we wait.” dan took another sip, already feeling slightly dizzy. *:･ﾟ✧ dan was fully drunk. he was giggling, putting his head on phil, slurring his words, all of it. phil was only tipsy. he didnt drink much yet, only about half of his drink. dan, of course, drank all of it, even the rest in the bottle! “phil!” dan slurred out, and phil glanced over slowly, so he doesnt get dizzy, and raised his eyebrow. “we should do a boyfriend tag.” phil thought about this. is he that drunk that he doesnt really care if they do one or not? yes. he doesnt really care, its not like itll be posted. phil knows better than that. “sure.” phil got up to get his camera from the other side of the room, and dan plopped on the bed laughing at who knows what. it took phil about 2 minutes to set up everything for filming, and an extra 5 minutes to find good goddamn questions. he finally found some question, a total of twenty. he can barely read them because of his blurry vision, and since he didnt have neither his contacts or glasses on. so he grabbed his glasses from the bed side and put them on to see if itll help. nope. he took another sip of his drink and locked his phone. he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it. he gets up and turns on the camera, praying to god its in focus. “dan, its on, we are filming.” once those words left phils mouth, dan shot up from phils bed and looked at phil. “okay, okay, okay, okay,” he kept repeating that until he finally was next to phil on the bed facing the camera. phil giggled at dan, dan looking at him with his red cheeks. “okay, ready, babe?” asked phil, seeing double of dan. dan nodded, and smiled at phil and then at the camera. “okay,” phil breathed in and then ‘took in his persona’. “hey guys!” he said cheerfully, but all it did is make him dizzy. dan was like, on top of phil, so hes grateful that he was, or phil wouldve fallen over. “im here with dan.” phil pointed at him, and dan waved, his white oversized cat shirt being exposed, and you could even see his naked legs, since hes wearing shorts. “we are doing the boyfriend tag.” phil said slowly, and dan nodded jumping up and down on the bed. “phil is my boyfriend! boyfriend phil! philip lester, boyfriend!” he yelled, making phil giggle. “okay, want ask the questions, or do u want me go ask them?” asked phil to dan. “ask me the questions! then we will do it back!” dan suggested, and phil nodded encouragingly. “okay, first question.” phil unlocked his phone and read it very carefully. “when is my birthday?” he asked. “bonus points for the zodiac sign!” “january 30th, that makes you a……” he strung out the ‘a’ to think. “an Aquarius! aquarium.” he laughed, and phil chuckled. “correct baby.” he leaned in to kiss dan, and dan kissed him, tasting of vodka and ribena. “okay, now,” phil was going to go to the next question, but dan protested. “now do mine! do mine!” dan pouted, crossing his arms. “june 11th! youre a gemini.” phil stuttered out, making dan laugh. “lucky guess.” he muttered jokingly. “next question,” phil scrolled down the page. “where did i grow up?” “im too drunk for this phil!!” he moaned out. “the north! thats all youre getting.” “well, youre not wrong.” said phil. “ill give you the point.” “what about me?” asked dan. “the south.” “ugh! exact place!” “not fair, you didnt do that for me!” “ugh, whatever.” dan pouted again. “wipe that pout off your face princess.” phil whispered, grabbing dans chin. “im just kidding philly!” dan kissed phil, getting him off guard. “okay, next,” phil asked. “whats my middle name?” “michael! these are too easy! i want harder ones. test me!” dan groaned out, and phil rolled his eyes. “okay, okay,” phil said. he scrolled down to another website, which had different questions. “how about this: where was our first date?” “EASY!” he yelled, throwing his hands up. “well, kinda,” he muttered. “its hard!” “well, tell me.” phil said suggestively, leaning closer to dan. “we first met of course at the train station,” he muttered out. “and then we went straight to your house, and, did things. does that count as a first date?” this took him way too long to say, as he was stuttering madly. “yes, it does. great job, cutie.” phil said happily and leaned in for a kiss. “okay, let me ask the question!” phil started to give him the phone, but dan refused, saying he wants go make one up. “whats the first thing you notice about me?” he asked a bashful. “your smile.” phil said simply. no explanation was needed to make dan feel all warm inside. dan covered his face and leaned on phils shoulder, grinning like mad. once he got up, he looked at phil, seeing his wonderful, eyes. “you know what mine is.” he muttered, almost inaudible. it was phils turn to blush. they lean in and kiss once again, but longer than before. when they pulled apart, dan was seeing actual stars, and couldnt even understand what was happening, completely forgot about the video. “oh my god, i love you so much.” he said in a shush tone, with phils hand on his cheek. they were only a few inches away from each other, and phil loved it. phil was exploding every inch of dans face, and so was dan. every moment phil made, it made him more dizzy and more dazed, but he didnt care. within a few moments, they both locked eyes, and somehow, both remembered they were recording. “uh, one more question,” phil stuttered out, as dan looked around for his almost empty drink. “okay, last question. what is my favorite color?” “easy, blue.” dan said, as he drank his final sips of his drink before crushed it and threw it. “hey!” phil protested, looking over at the cup. “ill pick it ip later, babe.” dan slurred out almost incoherently. “whats mine?” “easy, pink.” phil mocked. dan smiled softly, putting his arms around phils neck, phil put this hands on dans waist. “what kind of pink?” he muttered, with his sloppy grin on his face, his curly hair perfect in tack still. (which surprised phil) “pastel.” dan groaned jokingly, letting his head drop down onto phils shoulders. “oh my god, i tried to trick you!” dan yelled. “well, you didnt. 8 years of friendship pays off.” phil joked. dan put his head on phils shoulder, his head facing the camera. “can we finish? i wanna cuddle with you watch disney movies.” phil chuckled and nodded. “we’ll finish, lets do the outro.” phil tapped dan, so he can get up from his shoulder, but dan didnt move a muscle, indicating hes not moving. “okay, well, goodbye everyone, please like a subscribe to me and dans channel, and our gaming channel! love you!” he waved and awkwardly looked at dan. “i need to turn off that camera baby.” dan groaned and got up from phils shoulder. phil got up and turned off the camera, sitting right on his bed again next to dan. “can we just cuddle?” phil can tell dan was getting tired, and getting all drained. he gets like this when hes drunk, but also after recording videos. “of course, princess.” phil laid down, then wrapping his arms around dan who is not next to them. they peacefully fall asleep, with the lights on and phils snoring. *:･ﾟ✧ it was the morning, and phil is posting his premade video on lessamazingphil, just a quick vlog from florida. its taking surprisingly long to process, since its only 2 minutes, but phil didnt question it. its almost done, so phil went to go see dan, who has the worst hangover ever. “how are you baby?” asked phil, laying next to dan. “better, how bad was it?” he asked, and phil laughed. “you were fine, not as bad as a few months ago, but you were not any better.” dan groaned, and at that moment his phone dinged. he unlocked his phone to see the notification, YouTube popping up, and it was phils new video. “uh, phil.” dan said. “yes?” phil hummed. “you posted the wrong video.” “what?” phil yelled a little too loudly for dan, as he backed away and gave phil his phone in just one beat. “i uploaded our drunk boyfriend tag.” dans eyes widen. “we filmed a video? no way, i dont remember this. did we kiss?” “i was drunk too!” “well, i would keep it up.” “why?” “we already made this mistake once, lets just let them have what they want.”

#dan and phil #dan howell #phil lester #phan #phandom

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driiven-blog · 8 years ago

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the wanky hanky panky psychological profile of Erwin Smissu this isn’t all of it, but at this point, it’s so long and ive gone off on tangents of so many things that it’s easier to just post it. if people are actually concerned and have questions, you’re totally welcome to ask. ill probably update this periodically and try to clean it up.

im gonna preface this with some things. first off, i do not headcanon erwin as a full fledged sociopath / to have a fully diagnosable aspd ( antisocial personality disorder ). he shows traits and factors, and i will always try to specify that. secondly, most of my points and such should not !! be taken as any aspect of professional or anything. this has very much been experimentation. my own research and my own understanding, small experiences, a great deal of forums and sites galore, and general self-education. i disclaim this because i’m sure there’s going to be factors which might not be accurate or etc. but i will do my best ! third, i would also like to say that im going to do a bit of defining based off of large factors that define the disorder and sorta branch off --------- i know no diagnosis is perfect. following perfect to the definitions in textbooks isn’t realistic, and i can tell you that his responses will always depend on situations and etc. so yeah, just cuz im following specific bullet points, i don’t want it to seem like im locking him into it. i just want to hit on prominent factors that are known to be present in people who have aspd, and also just to point out things he’s done in the canon manga / anime that reflect some of those things.

also probably gonna touch up on some ptsd. cuz lbr, who doesn’t fucking have that in the snk world. it’ll be interwoven.

alright, so here we go. i wanna start with a pretty prominent factor that follows with aspd: general understanding deficiencies and an inability to really flow with them Societal Norms like all the other kids. my own headcanon is erwin grew up as a pretty lonely kid. liked to befriend animals, specifically dogs --------- loyal to a fault, quick to obey and all that sort. erwin admits in chapter 51 of the manga that he was called a creep often ( it depends on the translation, but the gist no matter what page is that he’s a fuckin weirdy ). but it extends more than just the probability he was a secluded kid.

everyone knows erwin’s father was killed because of erwin’s big mouth ( beginning from here to pg 16 ). even after his father’s death, erwin continued talking about his father’s theories, despite the fact the government practically warned his ass with that shit ( source ). he proceeds to admit he stopped telling people, but im going to stop here just to point out how long it took him --------- erwin didn’t stop talking about the very material that’s banned. he still never quite took that he shouldn’t talk about that stuff in public ears. it took him years to finally shut his trap --------- and even then, it was to prevent people from realizing his own selfish gain.

also here’s a quick toss-up of some ptsd possibilities. check this page out. erwin looking up into the face of a titan as it devours one of his friends, a memory he’s recalling clearly. and at such a young age, still with his round cheeks --------- before puberty, presumably. the guy’s seen shit from a young age. while it certainly seems to affect him far less obviously than some of the others, i would absolutely consider it likely has its hold on him. i won’t go to into where i think it may or why etc, by this is just a little note.

so now let’s talk about a little beauty called self-worth and power hunger. narcissism is a big trend, though it isn’t actually a factor of aspd. it can be, but it’s kinda misconstrued that it definitely is. from the research i’ve looked into and direct words from those better versed in it than i am, it’s not. i will say, however, i think erwin has a very heavy sense of self-worth, and a sort of self-centered thought process. his rise in command is well deserved, but also really quite fortunate. he wants power. he wants to reach his goals, he wants to see his dream.

at the same time, i think there is an insecurity that scrapes at his skin in there. the world regards him as a demon, and he really doesn’t outwardly seem to care ( as evidenced by a scene where he kinda just shits on the life of a dead dude, but then makes a speech that sorta redeems that - still the page is important for how the woman reacts to his approach and his just ruthless rips in front of a crowd ) ---------- however, he does show some humanity in it.

in this chapter ( from pg. 6 to 7 and a little bit of 8 ), erwin expresses doubts in his decisions. zackley calls him out on it being his sense of duty, bein harsh on himself and what such.

general emotion cap. i say cap cuz i don’t wanna say it’s a full out deficiency --------- erwin does have emotions, something i joke about a lot. i will specify that aspd is usually classified specifically as being apathetic, showing a pretty hefty lack of remorse for anything not directly affecting them. not caring about hurting others, stealing, etc.

i will say that this does and doesn’t vary. erwin is willing to do what he must to achieve his goals. if he has to break fingers and end someone else’s job, he’ll see through whatever must be done. hell, he gets the whole royal order and nobility booted from their seats ( they were corrupt, however some of the severity he implies like in acwnr from this page to pg. 21 ).

still, it doesn’t mean he’s not swallowing down anything that threatens to rear its ugly head when people are calling him a complete monster. even the smaller sacrifices that must be made, in the case where they couldn’t reclaim any parts of the bodies of some corpsman lost ( from my timestamp to 10:00 ), erwin walks away with a solemn face. it does affect him, yet he bears it with a cold face. not all of it is entirely unfeeling, yet it doesn’t mean he definitely dismisses a lot more than ordinarily.

while i’m here, let’s touch on erwin’s stray from humanity’s will. this isn’t quite a spectrum prover or anything, this is just an aside, if anything. while it’s stated in later chapters that erwin has been in it for himself since the beginning, i don’t believe that to be true. i firmly believe he has been driven to fight for humanity, for it all, to see the world get better. i personally find that with the loss of his arm came a bit more than just physical loss, but a drain in sanity and a buildup of fear. a reminder of just how fragile humans are and how temporary life is ---------- erwin’s never been afraid of death, but no man wants to live as bait for the rest of his life. disabled and half as useful --------- nothing but a mind. pitiful.

inappropriate responses !! creepy smile !!! my boy’s creepy smile. i just find it hella noteworthy that erwin almost never reacts like any of the other characters in the manga --------- they all have a pretty keen sense of dread, horror and guilt. it seems erwin’s real fond of just smiling at the most fucking inappropriate of times. no matter what news he’s given, he always has some sort of ulterior motives ---------- something proves him right, something he discovers that’s new. it doesn’t matter that titans might actually be humans, groundbreaking news to anyone with half a mind ( source page ), he’s grinning because he’s both amazed and a little pleased with himself that he was right.

or the fact that, upon facing execution by the court, he grins to himself. nile staring at him. i personally think it’s because of erwin’s little bit of understanding what’s about to happen, the ace in his sleeve --------- no less, that’s no fuckin grand invitation to go ahead and cheese it.

sex / relationships. i’ve spoken about this before with a few people --------- erwin really has a very low sex drive. he’s not an awfully intimate person, but whenever he is, it’s typically more lust than anything. his early years were more experiments than anything else --------- never a stable girlfriend, he just slept with fellows and ladies in the corps. some of it was very detached relations for both parties --------- some of it was a very cold morning after from erwin’s half, who had been, from the beginning, invested merely for the experience.

because that’s really what it came down to. prime time, puberty hitting, children growing amidst their peers who they have eyes for. erwin went from a round little kid to a tall, handsome young man --------- he had his fair share of romps, and when he was settled, he was settled.

while love isn’t terribly prominent in his life, he has experienced it. his affinity grows like any --------- with the passing of time, a moderately lustful attraction thinning out into more interest. something more genuine. he got close once upon a time with a woman named marie ( nile’s wife waddup nile ), but in the end, she politely turned him away. he spent days, if not weeks fawning over her. using his charisma, charming her, bringing her things. offering dates. she was wooed by him, but even she knew they weren’t the right pick. and, like nile says, erwin picked titans over her at the end of the day. where she wanted a real family, erwin did not.

in general, his experience with love has always been very limited. even as a boy, he loved his father --------- yet love was shown in actions. in doing well and practicing hard on the piano to show his father his affinity for it. doing things to express his love, not saying it. words spoil the sentiment. words remind the world how dangerous things like love are in a lifestyle that’s always taking.

i would also just like to tack in that his libido is low, like i said. sometimes he’ll just go a few months on a dry spell and be totally fine, a complete disinterest --------- like asexual disinterest. then sometimes he’ll regain that want, specifically if he’s feeling a little lonely or some self doubt or any of those pleasant little products of being part of one of the most hated military branches.

genetics is always a big question people ask me. like, does he show these traits in other verses ? Is it him, or the world they live in ? the answer is that it’s absolutely in his family. he’s going to show these traits no matter the verse --------- it may vary in severity, being it is he’s not literally being forced to see death and kill people in an attempt to better humanity, but yes. he will grow up a loner, with issues understanding, with a cap on his emotions, with a hunger for power, etc. etc.

he do feel tho. a big misunderstanding is that he doesn’t, and that’s not true at all. while he’s definitely far more repressed ( elsa voice: conceal don’t feel ) and occasionally just will entirely not feel or misinterpret some responses, big hitters like regret and shit are definitely prominent.

he does function on a strong beliefs system that helps him overcome some of it, too. i’d just like to toss that in bc sometimes, with confidence in his decisions, even with loss, he can come out feeling like it was a success because he so strongly knows that he himself tried. there’s less regret blooming from that.

still, here’s a prime example. after so much that’s happened, erwin losing his arm. expressing, even if in a bit of a joking manner, about how an arm is hardly enough sacrifice for all the people he’s killed. may he say it in a pretty casual way, but there’s still some weight in those words.

also erwin confessing to zackley in this chapter, which i mentioned earlier ( from pg. 6 to 7 and a little bit of 8 ), that maybe just letting the mp win would have been easier. that maybe just laying down and dying would be of greater benefit to humanity.

pawns, and erwin using people. it’s no surprise to anyone that erwin sees many of his troops as assets. even commander shadis, when erwin was still a captain, confesses in a thought that he feels like he’s a pawn of his own subordinate in this page here.

because of the way erwin’s life goes, those that he’s surrounded with are the people most important to him. of most use. i won’t say he isn’t caring and sincere in that, but there’s certainly a specific sort of manner he treats some. how he regards those in his life and by what importance, and who’s worth the time of day and who’s not tbqh.

that’s all for now. this has all been pretty general and mostly just hitting prominent canon points that show most of the evidence for itself. again, if there’s any questions, i highly encourage people to ask ! more will likely be added later.

#ooc. // commander in chief.#fact. // born on the wrong side of opportunity.#[ this is literally like stupid fucking long ]#[ click at your own risk ]#[ also be warned of spoilers ahead ]#[ mostly in the links attached ]

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rhinointherain · 4 years ago

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26-8-2020

the high hasn’t really hit me yet (its been a few minutes so yeah kind of weird, longer than usual probably, but also not that weird for me bc both i and a***** have noticed that it takes a lot longer for weed to affect me than it does for the average person, i think it is starting to kick in anyway), but i wanted to say first of all that earlier today even though i hadnt smoked at all i noticed myself having some thoughts on the similar type of abstract ideas that i get while high and thinking I should journal them, i didnt because i’m starting to come down firmer on the decision that i will only make any of these types of entries after having smoked at least once that “day” (as in since waking up in the morning, not like a 24 hour period), considering i did smoke twice yesterday and not being a very little physically active person it might have to do with thc still being in my body, but it also might be that doing these journal entries has made me more eager and better equipped to engage with those abstract ideas which i think is cool (although it is important to ask the question of whether it actually has made any tangible difference in how and why i interact with those ideas or whether i just want there to be one), but it also might be that i was reading that terence mckenna book

((actually it was all three of these reasons and also the infinite reaches of every other infinite reason that put me in this specific “multiverse”/version of existence, those three were just the main ones i at first subconsciously perceived to be important enough to type and then after typing them consciously evaluated to be important enough that i would not delete them and instead elaborate on them further. but i feel like I’ve discussed this enough by now that this is readily apparent)

what were those abstract thoughts i wanted to write down is another question because when i decided not to write them down i thought ok well then ill be sure to remember what they were and pick up my phone and write all this immediately after i smoke but the problem is that it takes a little while to type it all up and i forgot them before i had finished writing all that introduction

i should explain better the path that my thoughts have been taking from my mind to their final written form so far in these journal entries but first i want to talk about something else

which is that

(include something explaining why you feel the need to inject these sad excuses of teenage tumblr poetry in between the actual interesting shit you usually like to focus on in these entries)

okay do i still want to write about what i was about to say? also maybe it would be more productive to wait until sober to explain the processes in which these entries are formatted

yeah i do bc one of the reasons i do these lame ones is that they can act for me as a healthy emotional release okay so anyway i wanna be, and this is coming straight from the pathos slash animalistic sensory-propelled part of my brain not anywhere near the rational thought-propelled one, i right now wanna be like a a girl in a movie or story about some like lame emo dude who smokes cigarettes and the movie is just a bunch of slow panning over like a rainy city and theres shoegaze in the background (im thinking about like lost in translation or something BUT EXCEPT the dude isnt bill murray the dudes like a young guy who only someone like me would find attractive (but there are a lot of people like me) who like reads proust or some shit i dont know) and MANIC PIXIE DREAM GIRL fuck that’s what i’m trying to say i didn’t actually need to type all this shit i just forgot that that term existed for a sec well anyway yeah thats what i want to be, seeing as this concept and the importance of attaining it as a woman has been drilled into my head by media which my brain had been heavily impressed with during its most impressionable ages (that being my adolescence), where and how did that impression happen ie was it absorbed into the deep subconscious reaches and now resides with the animal/sensory part of my brain who has classed the desire to fulfill this idealized image as a sensory/survival need, or does it come in from the opposite side and instead its like a desire that comes from higher conscious and or subconscious cognitive understanding formed from the human brains complex analysis of every input it gets through the web of social norms and evaluations and memories and everything that makes up what the brain understands everything to be. how are the two even different. they arent because nothing is different everything is just one infinity inside of itself and i write this same thought down a lot because of its essentiality but i havent been conveying it in a well thought out enough way for sober me to fully grasp its importance. eventually i should dedicate more effort to this particular idea but thats a big undertaking and i have been too lazy to attempt it so far

fuck like i just want the guy to be like standing by himself at the weird french new wave club or something thinking about how disconnected he is from society or whatever the fuck and then he sees me whos like 100 lbs and i have an unconventional haircut and either im like dancing uninhibitedly (representing the innocent and childlike perspective our jaded protagonist needs to offset his disillusionment with society) or im also standing all alone smoking a cig and maybe even reading like [first 20th century philosopher that comes up under suggested results when you type proust’s name into google] ha ha ha im so funny do you see what im doing here im deconstructing the stereotypical indie movie that people on the internet make fun of because genuinely liking it had become too mainstream im sure no one has ever thought of this before as a comedic bit anyway i had this whole other thing about it too like she goes in his car with him and they smoke and exchange like 4 sentences but u can still tell shes the perfect for him bc shes sexy and has pink hair or something i dont know anyway i was just thinking about how i wanna be that.

like wouldnt it be nice to not actually have any thoughts in your head your whole job is to be pretty but not know that youre pretty because apparently you dont fit the societal convention of beauty except you pretty much do in every way except that you like have green eyes instead of blue and you dont wear high heels or something and thats all you have to do you only exist to fulfill some dudes fantasy and if you fulfill that fantasy you’ve reached the ultimate purpose in life and don’t have to worry about accomplishing anything else or pleasing anyone else, maybe thats why some people become super religious because isn’t it pretty much the same exact concept like your ultimate goal is to become jesus’s manic pixie dream girl, or buddha’s maybe i don’t know i am embarrassingly uninformed about eastern religions

i’m already not really very high anymore that’s disappointing bc i finally actually took a bong rip by myself in what felt like the correct way to do it eg it didnt make me cough but i guess it wasn’t the correct way after all i guess me not coughing just meant i didnt get enough in my lungs godsh damn it

#journal #aug 2020 #🌿

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isaacathom · 6 years ago

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i dont /think/ the politics of the setting plays a huge role in the story, barring the effect it has on characters in a cultural sense (mostly re: Rien and Warzen). not unless the gang kidnaps a princess or something. it could play interestingly into the whole two gangs thing.

since most of the story is spent tracking down Rien’s gang (Gang A) and then after the revelation that Saval was a Huge Fucking Liar, it swaps to the group trying to track her down (both for answers and because shes still a criminal and she straight up escaped). and maybe even that was tied into the plot. That Saval’s whole point, really, was to sufficiently distract the city/royal guard from focusing on the Hounds of Fovenis and making out Gang A to be the big villains. so the guard devotes its resources to fucking over Gang A, while the Hounds get ready for the real heist - royalty. while the guards off fucking around with random Gang A necromancers, they can just waltz in and kidnap members of the royal family and demand that $$$. a flawless plan.

except then Saval get found out. because one of the members of Gang A turning themself over and helping bring them down was not on the cards. Rien was a complete unknown factor. Koci and her justice god were unknown factors (sort of). Warzen was definitely an unknown factor, because Saval didn’t know he existed (cause, yknow, separate jails). and Saval didn’t get any pre-knowledge about Rien being an issue until Rien was supposedly murdered (the Hounds had faulty information - they assumed Amali was Rien) and Rien was chucked in the guys jail anyway. so. yknow. cool.

so Saval gets found out to be a liar. That she’s not from Gang A. how they figure out she’s a Fovenis plant instead is... hmm. not sure on that front yet. maybe its just simple process of elimination - if she’s not a member of Gang A, but she had all of this information, she was probably a Hound, and so forth.

so Saval fucking bolts. she fucked up real bad. they were almost ready to get big, but now theyre going to be under scrutiny. so she thinks, a) save my own ass and b) save my gangs ass. she leaves a trail. she plans to lure them out of the city if she can. get as much of the royal guard trying to track her down as possible. commit a bunch of random and dangerous crimes to make her a credible threat to society, etc. what else can she do???

but Saval probably falters. she’s spent a solid while with this specific group, the main cast. theyre friendly. they trusted her. and that was stupid of them. theyre stupid. but they were like... genuine about it. yknow? like they were neat. she liked hanging out with them.

and so of course the people that end up finding her are her friends. and after some fighting, she cracks. she ““accidentally”” outs the Hounds plan to kidnap royalty, which would send the region into some reaaaal chaos. cause. yknow. royalty??? especially if theres an assassination involved. which there likely is. the hounds dont fuck around. like their plan is basically to murder most of the royal family and scarper with a princex or two. everyone scrambles. the south rises. all that fun shit. makes sense to me that the hounds might be southern aligned.

then i guess the group (preferably + saval, but the logistics of that are.... complicated? disguises are possible though) races back to foil it. i dont know if they were fully succeed in that. someone probably does get straight up murdered. but they manage to mostly foil it.

the alternative, at least in part, is to have Saval be directly betrayed by one of the Hounds. Flat out betrayed. set up. she was the fall guy. the plan, as far as she knew, was that the Hounds were going to break her out of jail just before the plan went into action, and she’d return into the fold seamlessly. that they’d put her back in her rightful spot. that she’d be back in control instead of at their whims (since her spot as the plant relies on the other hounds to do their jobs properly). and then they just dont? or something? she thought she’d be rewarded for her service to a gang she was literally born into, and that were her family, and they declined. they had no intention of breaking her out. she’d served her purpose. maybe before this mission she’d failed. she’d made mistakes. and they’d framed this mission, the long haul Gang A Plant, as a way for her to return to their good graces. but it was a suicide mission the whole time. a dead end. she wasn’t getting out.

the issue with that is that, while it basically makes sense, especially if they think lowly of Saval’s skills, is that idk how to like.... have that come up. as a way to fully convince Saval to help. without it, Saval’s only motive to urn on the Hounds is her friendship with the group, and that wouldn’t get them far enough as to convince her to fight with them against the Hounds. it would convince her to ““accidentally”” spoil the plot. which is tantamount to a full betrayal but idk, maybe they wouldnt figure out she’d done it. i mean she IS fucked either way. cause she failed. plus betrayal, ooh baby, she’s a dead ‘un, yknow? so maybe they could convince her. Rien would be a good candidate for doing that, since Rien is the only other person who is actually like, a Proper Crim (unlike Koci “i didnt want this” Farmer and Warzen “I just wanted to revive some friends” Eliodan) and would figure out how it works. besides, rien did basically experience what Saval will. if the Hounds let Saval back in, they’d execute her not long after. They’d send her to a routine job and then cap her in the head. Rien literally just had that happen (except Rien didn’t die, obviously, but the general event remains the same).

so Rien, presumably having basiiiically forgiven Saval for unwittingly setting up Rien to get murdered (its complicated), convinces Saval that if she thinks the Hounds will reward her for this, then shes the fucking idiot, not them. Because they won’t. If they don’t just kill her at the start, they’ll quietly dispose of her while she’s asleep, or while she’s on the open road. They’ll dispose of her. Failure is unacceptable to them, and Saval failed. So basically Saval’s only options are to Run, or to turn herself in and hope that the police can keep her safe.

Saval takes both. Saval agrees to help them get thwart the Hounds’ plan, and while everyone’s like, celebrating or some shit, she slips away. makes sense.

i think that would pretty much work? theres nothing wrong with the story being a smaller scale, but having Saval be the final boss would be.... weird. because she’d be really obviously less powerful than the other 4. they’d win. it wouldnt be challenging in any way. it would keep the story more.... like, personal, and thats fine too, right. i like that sometimes. but i feel like it needs a little more. plus, i could likely tie in the whole thing with the royalty with Koci. since she still has a pact in the air. the god fulfilled their end (p much), now its Koci’s turn. or something! im gonna have to think about it. esp since justice isnt omniscient and wouldnt know the royals are in danger for any certainty. maybe the pact is a bit more vague. like “if you enact justice. we’ll be good” “what the fuck does that mean” “uhhh do good things. protect people. right wrongs. save lives and shit” “arent i already doing that???” “yea but you gotta balance out what i did for you. equivalent and stuff” “huh.”

cause i guess the thing is that, without Koci knowing her pact, she probably would never do enough. its likely that if she switched too many times, they stop letting her leave, and now she cant even DO any justice. so she couldnt break her pact, and so forth. and if she knows her pact is to like. right wrongs and shit, or something, then she can convince them to let her keep coming along despite the risks, because it migh also set her free. and stuff? yea. especially as she communicates more w/ her god and they start working together more effectively. or something. again pacts are unclear as shit.

like i guess the issue with Koci’s pact is that not only was she brought back to life, BUT also that this happened so she could destroy the cultists. and then she went further. and it got a bit messy. and justice was lost. idk. maybe justice’s pact was basically ‘ill kill the cultists if you fuck over some people who have wronged me’ ‘do you know who they are?’ ‘not really’ ‘oh dude thanks youre a great help’.

idk. justice might be hard to work in to it in a way that feels satisfying or that couldnt happen without her knowing the pact. perhaps vengeance would be better? then its like, ok, i helped you get revenge. now help ME get revenge. but because Koci can’t talk to them (yknow, language barriers), Koci can’t do that. she can’t find the right people. but once they start talking, Koci figures out she can probably get what they want by continuing to do this whole main gang thing. the people they want fucked over are PROBABLY part of Gang A, right? she’ll work hard to keep fucking them up! and so the god agrees, because that makes sense, and gives her more control, which allows her to stay in the group (without the control, she’s a liability. with the control, she’s an asset) to work towards the goal.

except they arent part of Gang A. because Gang A just... doesnt do that? probably necromancy stuff. ok correction, they do, they do have a necromancer, but one who started doing that AFTER the Koci incident and therefore after the pact. and was not the goal. rather, their goal was someone from the Hounds. who i guess gets involved with the whole palace thing??? uh. ok this isnt Great. i do need to find a way to connect Koci’s pact to the story though. I’ll think more on that laaaaer??? hh

#story blogging #cano fe yula #for later - work on koci's pact

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furiousharmonykryptonite-blog1 · 6 years ago

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