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vashtijoy · 1 year

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"let's make a deal", with and without Akechi's confidant

So the final showdown in the engine room differs in P5R, based on whether or not you max out Akechi's confidant. Let's take a look.

At this point, Akechi has raised the bulkhead door and is trapped on the wrong side of it, seriously wounded, with a furious Cognitive Akechi and a small mountain of shadows. Things do not look good for our deuteragonist:

Akechi: The real fools... are you guys. You should have just abandoned me here a long time ago. Akechi: You would have all perished... if you had tried to face these with me weighing you down.

[Phantom Thieves all go !]

Makoto [stepping forward]: Akechi-kun! Akechi: Let's make a deal, okay? You won't say no, will you? Yusuke [stepping forward]: Why, at a time like this!? Akechi: Change Shido's heart... in my stead... End his crimes... Akechi: Please!

Now here's our first divergence. You are offered different options, depending on whether or not you have the confidant:

without Akechi's confidant at stage 9

Joker can say either "I promise", or "Leave it to me". Aww, he's a good guy at heart, is our Akiren. This guy tried to shoot him and everything.

And what's Akechi's response? He opens his eyes, nods and smiles.

Aww. But note that he ALWAYS sacrifices himself, and for the same reasons. The difference the confidant makes is not to do with that—it's to do with something quite different, which we'll explore below....

with akechi's confidant at level 9

Now here are the options we all know and angst over:

A stage 9 confidant Joker, who has that bond with Akechi, who had the stage 8 showdown with him in Mementos and got the glove, gets "You better deliver your promise" and "I'll hold on to your glove".

And when you pick your option, what does Akechi do? Well, for a start, he has an emotional response:

... remember we talked about how the "empty" icon, from the interrogation room, doubles as the "feeling some unnameable emotion" face? Well, here it is again; you can see the model doing the same thing behind the sprite. If you don't max his confidant, you never see this. Only an Akechi who has connected with Joker over the year gets this shocked response when Joker challenges him for the last time. And, to be honest, it's not all that unnameable an emotion. This Akechi, in his final moments, knows what he's doing, and why, and can admit it—at least to himself.

Akechi ハッ、この期に及んでそれを言う?全く君ってヤツは、本当に⋯ ha! kono ki ni oyonde sore o iu? mattaku kimi tte yatsu wa, hontou ni... Heh... After all this, that's what you have to say? Seriously, you really are... Heh. That's what you say, at a time like this? I can't believe—you really are....

And it's only then that he trails off into the tiny smile.

Akechi never finishes that last sentence; he leaves something unsaid. Could be anything. Could be "ridiculous", could be "stupid"; could be any of Akechi's pet insults. But there's another possibility, that Akechi has been applying to Joker all along. He's called him it in this scene, before the fight. He called him it throughout his confidant. He's meant it more and more as the year has progressed.

That word is 面白い omoshiroi—"interesting, fun; fascinating". Yeah. "You'd better come through for me", Joker tells Akechi, who's about to die. "I swear to God," Akechi tells him in disbelief, "you never cease to amaze me."

At least, that's how I imagine it. And in my truther head, that's the difference between Akechi surviving and not. This Akechi, who couldn't care even when Cognitive Akechi had a gun to his head, gets something to live for at the last second; the one in the no-confidant engine room, who never appears in the post-credit sequence, did not.

Here's the excerpt:

Baww.

the end of the scene

Cognitive Akechi: You bastard... Akechi [struggling to his feet]: So, my final enemy is a puppet version of myself...

... and immediately fork for the second time.

Akechi [without confidant]: Not bad. Akechi [with confidant]: I...!

"I"?? "I", Akechi??? WHAT WERE YOU GOING TO SAY?

Non-confidant Akechi has settled for the irony of taking out "the puppet [he] was" (ningyo datta ore jishin, localised as "a puppet version of myself"); he considers this "not bad". This is also the line you get in vanilla P5, where the confidant was automatic.

But confidant Akechi's sentence is unfinished. He has left something undone. He has something left to say, something left to do. Something to live for.

I wonder what it is, at that moment, that he's regretting, or determined to do, or undo, or redo. What it is that gives him the strength to survive. Because we're all friends here; we all know he makes it, somehow.

The only hint in the original is that his line is not just ore, but ore wa—Akechi is comparing himself to others. So the sense is perhaps that Cognitive Akechi is "the puppet he was", but Akechi himself is no longer a puppet. It's good. But non-confidant Akechi would share that same sentiment. Something more is going on here.

With that, we move on to the end of the scene:

Haru [running forward]: Akechi-kun! Ann [stepping forward]: Isn't there some way to get this open, Mona?

[two gunshots are heard, about a second apart—and yes, they are identical in both routes and both language tracks]

Futaba: His signal is... gone... Futaba: I'm only getting... the weaklings... Ann: No... Morgana: Come on, you guys! Morgana: We can't let a rotten criminal like Shido do what he wants any longer! Morgana: We can't... no matter what!

Two things here. First, the second's delay on the gunshots seems... odd; I'd expect the shots to be either simultaneous or for there to be only one shot. Maybe someone who's ever seen a gun can clarify this. Though the fact that the shots are always identical suggests that this is not significant.

Second, Futaba always has both of her lines. I've seen it said that these are different depending on your confidant track, but no. She always says she can't detect a signal, and she always says she only detects the "weaklings".

I do find it interesting that, like the true ending cutscene, these tracks are so much more different than I realised depending on your Akechi choices. One of these paths is also clearly much more interesting than the other—the Akechi confidant track is the "true ending", the true plot; the other is there for the weirdos who just hate murder and treachery and pancakes, idk. Which is why the no-confidant 2/2 scene, where Akechi never shows up and is revived because Maruki thinks all the PTs want him back, doesn't make so much sense.

#persona 5 #p5 meta #japanese language #engine room #goro akechi

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magpies4nights · 4 months

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huh (Dev log # I'M ON 4?!!?!?!)

Hi guys! It’s me, @magpies4days on a different blog! That’s really the only promise I kept. Whoops. That’s why I don’t do promises. Anyways, since the last time I updated y'all, I passed all my finals and everything that was important. Yep, I passed my finals, which seems miraculous, because I accidentally studied the wrong study guide for my history exam and didn't really sleep enough the night before, and I got a 90 on it, which I'll be honest, that was the lowest grade I've ever gotten on a test in that class, but it's still an A so I won't cry about it. I turned in a really shitty essay too for one of my classes, but it seems that my professor didn’t actually read it because she gave me a 100 (ain’t gonna complain about that). I also procrastinated so hard on my graphic design final that I did it in like 3 hours and finished it 2 minutes before it was late. I still turned it in 5 minutes late because my computer decided it was funny to start acting up. Oh well, I passed that class, even for honor's standards. Normally I would be happy getting a B because I'd get a C and still celebrate but unfortunately I slayed too hard that my GPA was the minimum requirement for the Honor's organization to notice me. That's the Thinker in my Myers Briggs type showing baybee (JK JK I'm an INFP (unfortunately.)). Anyways, I’m on my winter break, and as much as I love getting breaks, god I forgot how much I hate summer and winter breaks. Summer breaks make me depressed because I have nothing to do, and winter breaks make me depressed because it’s literally the worst season of the year (cold weather (I have cold urticaria), dry air, less sun, the position of the sun is weird, and d3 barely does anything).

Anyways, onto the actual dev stuff. I probably should’ve figured this out the moment I started my idea, but I found out that to export my game to Mac, I’d have to have a developer id and pay for it. Which now I understand why most indie devs never upload to Mac. Oh well. (Fun fact: Mac actually has a feature called BootCamp which lets you portion your hard drive to allow you to have a Windows driver (Be wise on your portioning though because it’s permanent). I found this out when I was 16 and trying to download Pizza Tower demos. Totally not saying that so you could play it on your “Mac,” *wink wink*).

I had to switch my dialog stuff from a script I found on the internet, to an add-on that most Godot devs use ( Dialogic). I know. I am awful. However, there is a reason to this, and it’s entirely because I am an idiot. I have experimented with how Godot exports JSONs, and as it turns out, the images nor the audio would load! The text would, but it’s just not the same, especially when the dialog box is supposed to change with the character speaking. While it could be something in my code that is causing this to happen, or I'm forgetting to export something else while checking off all the boxes, it still gives me a headache and I decided it was for the best to switch. I may not be able to code for now, but there may be a day when I can. Hopefully. I had to change the layout of the dialog stuff because Dialogic kinda makes it like a visual novel kinda thing. I decided to torture myself and make everyone have different heights. Don't worry, everyone has relatively normal heights. Except for mayyybe Sleepy Weepy. They're like 6'2 (which may mean there's some cutoff for their sprites).

Aaaaanyways, enough about me suffering about dialog again. I’ve been working on the beginning and ending cutscene so that I can first torture everyone with 5 minutes of dialog in the beginning and then at the end music with text that may give people a hard time reading the lyrics. The animation isn’t done, but the text kinda is??? I’ll have to revise it like I have the past 56 times because my future self is hard to please, and I think everyone is out of character except Xandra.

Yeahhh, that’s about it so far. I made new music while I was being harassed with finals. Take a gander, but with your ears. Or don't, forcing you is unethical.

Top 10 Sleepy Weepy of all time!!!!! (This is doesn't even make it in the honorable mentions)

#gasa4 #fan game #fan made music #gasa4sc #gasa4 snackcore #gasa4 sleepy weepy #Scaperat

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hermitcatlongposts · 1 year

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Sprite Animations

Hello! I'm here to talk about my sprite animations in my upcoming touhou-clone game.

This was even more overwhelming than portrait artworks. Because to animate is to draw even more when just drawing once overwhelms me. But here I am at the end of it.

Let's start from the easiest to hardest.

Bellhead Monk was a smooth sailing because since long ago I always knew that all I needed was to just extend his arms and reverse. His main theme of attack is about expansion and shrinkage.

Here's all 3 frames. I love how I briskly redrew the gray fur piece to deform instead of going the lazy route and just move only the arms and call it a day. I'm always afraid of sounding like a self-lusting narcissist, but it is very unexpected; the way even the smallest things I do as an artist make me feel proud of myself. Maybe I shouldn't be concerned about projecting the perfect humble gentleman image. Maybe creating art to make yourself happy is the point of life. Sorry, I got sidetracked.

Next one is Buckethead Knight. He's harder but only because I shot myself in the foot by drawing the first frame without coming up with the animation idea. If I did know motion he would perform, I would've put the sword and the shield on a separate layer from the rest so I wouldn't have to awkwardly erase and redraw things.

oh now that I look at it straight like this, it looks like a death animation, doesn't it. Well, he will anyways, tough luck.

I cannot remember the reason why I put these two in one gif. They're not duo boss. For Flaskhead Alchemist and Lamphead Scientist I felt curious about utilizing particle effects and keep the actual animation frames as simple as I can because I'm suffering from skill issues.

But even with that being said, this one's a bit of a step up because it's one more frame than previous two character.

The spinning staff is separate sprite because it still spins on while the body animation stops at the last frame.

Now, I could try the similar thing as Buckethead Knight and make a slashing (more like just swinging around) animation with only his one arm moving. But the time inevitably comes where I have to cut the "lazy and smart, haha" bullshit off. He moves all parts of his body so it's time to draw every frames from scratch. Ok, forget my big talk. I was joking. I'm still a piece of garbage. Due to the absolute requirement of outline thickness consistency, all these sprites are first drawn in 512x512 pixel canvas and then shrunk down to 128px inside the game engine for pixel per unit to camera size technical yada yada. But his long sword, or rather a bamboo stick couldn't fit inside the 512px canvas. What I should've done is to simply resize the canvas to 1024px and draw in the sword. But I was stupid and drew the sword in separate file and now it's kinda awkward relationship which slightly stops me from uploading his full resolution frames. But it doesn't really matter, you're only gonna see a very small 128px version in the game anyways. So here's a bunch of screenshots of the frames seen from the engine:

And 3 frames of physics:

Tho I didn't have the hutzpa to do it on the lower part.

But can I gush a bit about the base frame. My expectations are constantly at absolute lowest and I always get happy when it actually turns out great. (subjective) I really hope it stays this way forever. God I hope it won't be the case in the future where after I practice art seriously it gets reversed and I always have too high expectations and live in a constant state of disappointment and hatred.

Thank you so much for bearing with me while I take on this overwhelming challenge. I'll go now and do less overwhelming but even more bulky task to the finish line. Until then, cheers!

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harleiquina · 11 months

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The Cursed prince

A Snowhite retelling.

I've been thinking about this for a while, and as any writer can tell you: the best ideas come in the most unexpected times (in this case I woke up at 4 & something in the morning because my dogs needed to do their bussiness, and I just couldn't go back to sleep. So now at 5:22 I mentally finished this version of the story that was nothing more than an idea for the past few months). Enjoy! Because I know that I'll hate myself when I'll get sleepy at work later today.

So it was true.

Since birth he was destined to lose everyone he ever loved. His mother was the first one, the very same day he gave his first breath. He couldn't even see her once.

His father followed, a few years later. He was kind and warm but strict, as all kings should be. He loved his son but wanted to be sure that the power of their bloodline would never get on his head. What kind of king could that kid become if all of his wildest dreams were granted to him? The child needed limits, so the father gave him exactly that. He was an exceptional man.

Then came Father Solar. The King asked in his death bed for his son to be raised in the monastery that his family build, to have the best education he could have and learn how to be a man on God. All the priests there were dedicated to their task, but Father Solar would let the kid be a child, climbing trees, going fishing, running through the fields and playing with marbles (he taught the prince the most impresive tricks with them behind the other monks' backs). After his death, the prince, now a young man, went to his castle trying to leave the pain behind and to "grow up".

Many friends (because thats what they were, not just soldiers) died in foreing lands, sometimes in battle, others by believed-to-be friendly hands and others in minor incidents where, in a ironic twist of fate, they were trying to avoid any kind of conflict.

Many of his servants, that took care of him, like the cook that always made him smile when he needed it the most also died. Everybody tried to convince him that they were old and nature took it's course but then how could anyone explain that her little daughter, a child that the prince thought of as the little sister he never had, just never woke up without explanation?

The prince was more and more convinced that he was cursed. And now he had the worst reminder of it.

A year ago or so, he had to go to a neighbouring kingdom to participate in the wedding of the king, a long friend of his father. He was marrying for the second time, many thought that it was too soon, to a younger woman whose great beauty was a little suspicious to folks who believed her to be a witch or an evil wooden sprite under a glamour spell.

The prince got easily bored next to the other royals next to him that doubled his age (or even tripled it!) and kept on telling the same stories over and over again with more and more details as the wine began to flow. And then he saw her, the king's daughter, a lovely young girl almost his age with raven hair that made her look extremely pale. People called her Snowhite but he thought that it was a poor choice of a name because her smile alone was as warm as a summer breeze.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. She was graceful, kind and smart enough to get one of her father's friends to back track a statement he made about his people's labour. She noticed the prince and every time she caught him looking at her, she'd smile as an invitation to join her. But he would turn and walk away.

Yet she was decided to breach that distance, so she asked him to dance. He tried to refuse but as soon as their hands touched, the wall that he was building between them fell apart.

The world disappeared when she was in his arms and so did any kind of fear he felt about losing her. They looked each other in the eyes and inside of hers he saw the possibility of having a future, a family, happiness at last. His entire existence was bound to hers, he could feel himself turning his own life, body and soul so she could do with them as she pleased. He was brought back to reality by her touch, she was concerned, wiping away a tear from his eyes. He apologized and left the party, the castle and country altogether.

A few months later came a letter requiring him to go back to that kingdom for a funeral, his heart was already breaking before he could read that it was the king's. He felt bad for his relieved sigh and the small joy of finding out that she was safe. At least for now.

The solemnity of the ceremony didn't helped with his constant dread. But how could he try to ignore her when she looked absolutely destroyed and alone? Without a word they hugged and she broke down in tears in the safety of his arms. They walked through the gardens to clear their minds. If there was anything he had enough experience about it was pain and how to deal with it. She asked him to come back to visit, he couldn't refuse and both promise to write each other whenever needed.

He returned a few months later, the queen gave him all kinds of attentions but he couldn't see where his friend was. His host tried to tempt him to join her to a hunting trip, or to watch a play, or read next to the fire but he didn't cared about those things so he said that the travel left him exhausted and needed some rest. Of course, instead of going to his room, he wandered through the palace until he saw her. She was dressed in rags like the servants, carrying a sack of flour to the kitchen. She tried to calm him down, it wasn't that bad for her... she always helped as much as she could in the castle, this wasn't new and she would prove it in the kitchen where she baked a delicious cake for them to eat. He still believed that it wasn't fair to her to live in those conditions, but she reassured him that the pain of her father's death made her realized that she needed a change. He wondered how much of that she thought herself and how much of it were her stepmother's words.

He came back many times and tried not to take too much time between his visits. The queen would always try to keep him busy but he always found a way to explore the forest with his Northern Star as he started to call the princess because the shine of her eyes and the contrast of her hair and skin reminded him of a starry night, and he would always follow her to feel like he was at home again.

Then, one day, she was nowhere to be found. The servants were too afraid to speak and the Queen ignored all of his questions. He left the castle and went to the forest to the place they both called their kingdom, where all secrets were kept like that first kiss by the oldest oak tree under the summer rain. She was there, waiting who knows for how long and held him tight while tears flooded her eyes. She told him that the queen was jealous, that expelled her from the castle and promised to punish anyone that wanted to help her. He offered to take her with him, to keep her safe, to be her loving husband and leave everything behind. But this time she refused, she knew about the queen's intentions towards him and couldn't risk starting a war. She assured him that she was well taken care of and that one day, when everything calmed down, she would go with him and never again part ways. It was a bittersweet goodbye, with the softest kiss that would've torn apart even the bravest of all souls.

He rejected any invitation and letter from the queen, as well as her delegations with presents. She even dared to try to reach him through other kingdoms, yet the response was always the same.

One night he woke up with a fear he hadn't felt in years. A premonition. The storm outside of his window darkened his troubled heart and decided to ride to meet his Northen Star again before anything could happen. He had to save her. He could not afford to lose her.

The wind and the water seemed to be against him, forcing him to take the longest road. Rivers were overflooded, the mud didn't let his horse move, trees were plucked out of the soil as easy as any other weed at hands of a gardener.

With the early morning lights, the storm started to fade away but he was still too far from her. His journey continued, he had no time to rest or eat.

And then he arrived.

It was too late.

His knees failed him, kneeling in the mud he cannot stop looking at her in a bed of flowers. Even through his tears she looked as if she was just sleeping pacefully under the morning sun. The townspeople were saying their goodbyes to their princess. Some recognized him and shared his pain, but there's nothing else to be done. If the rumours are true, the queen found a way to poison her and there is no antidote that could help now.

"What have I done? Is my existence such an offense to this world that I do not deserve to be loved? Life, what have I done to you? Why do you keep on taking innocent lives instead of mine? What kind if cruel game are you playing with me? Why her? She's done nothing to you, unless giving me a reason to believe that you are beautiful is a sin that can only be cleansed by death. Earth was greener, the air sweeter and the sun warmer with her alive. What do I have to do? Lock myself in my castle out of sight and wait to the end of my days, just living off the memory of her lips in mine? Answer at once! I beg you..."

People stared at him but just one old woman came to help him get back on his feet.

"My dear boy, I'm sorry. None of this was meant to happen if I followed the rules... but when you spend so much time among your kind as I did it's almost impossible not to get soft" her voice was kind and she was fixing his clothes like a mother would.

"Who are you?" he asked while she was cleaning his face.

"My name is long forgotten and humanity decided that I am two: Life and Death. But it's only me. I take care of both tasks, maybe it would've been easier if I was two different people" she grabbed his arm and guide him to a rock so they could sit and talk. "And that's why it all began. The night you were born, you were supposed to die but I knew that your parents wanted a child more than anything. They've tried many times and after your death, your mother would've never gotten pregnant again. They were very nice, loved by everyone and always put others first. They deserved a gift, a baby as they always wanted... even if that meant that someone else had to take his place in the Afterlife. Your father understood it, once he held you in his arms, that it wasn't your fault, that you were too precious to be blamed for your mother's death. So he loved you even more than you can imagine. However, consecuences come when things don't go the right way. Your parents and friends would've lived longer if you didn't existed, yes, but that doesn't mean that they died because of you... is the course of destiny, it's just that the dates were readjusted. In her case, you extended her life. If you didn't take her for a walk on her father's funeral, she would've gone straight into her bedroom where the queen would've killed her to make it look like a suicide. Her stepmother couldn't try anything later because she had many guests to attend but every single time that something bad was about to happen, a memory of you made her take a different decision... another road... another fate. But as I said, dates get readjusted, they are never erased. The Evil Queen got her anyway. Such a pity." The prince didn't felt any better "You are not cursed, my dear. You are blessed, you are the strongest testimony that life is a gift that should not be squandered. So live, and share your life with those that make it worthwhile." The woman caressed his hair and walked away. life is a gift that should not be squandered. So live, and share your life with those that make it worthwhile." The woman caressed his hair and walked away.

He stood there watching the others crying and leaving flowers, even if the pain was cutting deep they were not feeling it as bad as he. People would go back to their homes, move foward with their lives and eventually let it go. But not him.

He took some courage and got closer to her. He took her hand, kissed it and pressed it against his face. This time she couldn't wipe his tears like before.

"Life is a gift that shouldn't be squandered... but I only wanted to share it with you" he said before kissing her lips for the last time. Still with his eyes closed he pressed his forehead with hers and sighed. He tought that the morning breeze was fooling him pretending to be her breath he could even hear her voice in it. "You came back" she said, like every time they met again. He started to cry but his tears were stopped by a hand. He opened his eyes and saw her smiling at him. "You came back" he answered before lifting her in his arms and kissing her again.

#harleiquina's retellings #my writing #snowhite #i'm not crying you're crying #writing #my art #aspiring author #the only good thing of getting more Disney remakes is that it challenges me to write more #like c'mon you can reinvent a classic story you don't need to do a frame by frame remake #writeblr #Did I started at 5:22 AM and finished at 8:35 AM #you bet I did

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hikari-ni-naritai · 1 year

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Mutliples of 4 uwu

4. already answered this!

8. how many water bottles are in your room right now?

two! one is my reusable one and the other is garbage from when i was driving to philadelphia but i forgot to bring my reusable bottle so i bought a big bottle of fiji from the gas station and threw it away when i finished it at home. i missed the trash can tho and its now on my floor.

12. what kind of day is it?

a kind of sleepytired day. my eyes hurt in a familiar kinda way.

16. can you drive?

yes! im sooo good at driving. i was basically made in a factory to drive cute girls around in my passenger seat but i fucked it up by getting really into progressive metal.

20. do you say soda or pop?

i usually avoid this difficult conflict by just saying the name of the drink im having. if i have to choose, it changes every time. i dont know whats more natural to me anymore.

24. if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

probably the same as the last person who asked this one. vibing. i would look at the stars probably.

28. do you wear a mask?

is this like covid masks or metaphorical masks? if im going to like a doctor's office or something yes. i tend not to go most other places. metaphorically dont we all? my mask is a facsimile of myself though.

32. do you have a favorite towel?

mm technically? i bought 2 of the lowest quality white towels i could find and those are my favorite. i dont like towels that are too plush. they feel like they arent drying me enough. also i dont like. use any other towels, so its debatable if these can be considered my 'favorites'

36. answered this!

40. answered this also!

44. you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?

yknow would looooove to kill hephaistos ffxiv. such a fucking pain to try and find reclear parties that know what theyre doing.

48. when did you first try an alcohol beverage?

god when was it. probably when i was like....... 25 or 26? ish? idk i got a cup of sprite/apple whiskey from my brother. it was fine. theres a weird heartburn-adjacent warmth that comes from alcohol that im not fond of. its like the way my eyes hurt now but in my throat. makes me feel.... like if 'tired' was localized somewhere else. its hard to explain. anyway i tend not to drink these days. i used to have something if i was going to be in a voice call with someone new, back when i was still rebuilding my shattered social life, but i dont need that anymore. the sprite/apple whiskey would be my go-to though if i was going to have a drink. its nice.

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moeitsu · 10 days

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Number 7 pls!!

Also, who is that in your profile? If ya don’t mind me asking.

My profile pic is of Tamino Amir. He’s a Belgian-Egyptian artist and makes beautiful music. I would recommend him to anyone. I saw him live in February with Mitski and literally cried the entire time. He’s also drop dead gorgeous the man literally looks like a god.

I’m rambling.

Number 7: what tattoos i have and their meaning.

I’m actually really happy you asked that one because I have so many tattoos and i love them ALL!

Okay, I have 12 tattoos. I’ll try to keep it short tho.

1. “Spirit Lead Me” on my bicep. This was my 1st tattoo I got for my 18th bday. It’s from Psalm 143. I’m not really a religious person anymore, but I still appreciate the message. The whole verse is “Teach me to do your will, for you are my God. Show me what you want me to do, and let your gentle spirit lead me in the right path.”

2. A small bouquet of flowers on my hip. This one doesn’t have much meaning. It was a last minute tattoo i got because my friend was getting one and the artist was really chill and was like “you want one too?” And i just said sure and let him pick the art. Looking back, i don’t know why i did that😂

3. A Luna moth on my shoulder. I’ve always considered myself more of a moth than a butterfly, if that makes any sense. I took a picture of a Luna moth was i was 16 and i was obsessed with them ever since. Fun fact: the day i got it tattooed i got a Snapchat memory that i took that moth photo 3 years ago on the same day. It was just meant to be.

4. The master sword from Legend of Zelda on my arm. This one is kinda self explanatory. I just fucking love the games. I played my first was i was 9 years old and it became my entire personality for the rest of my life.

5. A soot sprite on my ankle. This one also doesn’t really have a meaning. A friend of mine had finished her tattoo apprenticeship and was doing small pieces on people as practice. So i asked her to practice on me and she gave me a cute little soot sprite.

6. “Set your heart ablaze” on my rib cage. I got this after the demon slayer movie. It’s one of my favorite animes, and Rengoku was such an important character to me.

7. An evil eye with a tear drop under the back of my neck. I’ve always worn the evil eye since i was young. I don’t remember when i started or why, but I’ve always had a necklace or a keychain or earrings with it on. I liked the idea of it on my back bc in my mind it wards off any negativity that people might send me when my back is turned.

8. A cecropia moth on my other shoulder. Not so much meaning behind this one. My other shoulder felt naked and i wanted to add symmetry with another insect. I chose the cecropia moth bc I found one in the woods one time and I felt like some kind of woodland fairy. It was literally the size of my hand.

9. 333. It’s my Angel number. I see it everywhere, and at least once a day. I was also born on the 3rd day of the 9th month and 3 was always a prevalent number growing up. (I was on bus #3. My childhood apt was #3. Me and my sibs make 3, ect)

10. A maple seed. I got this tattoo for my current partner. We’ve been together 7 years and on our second date we walked a nature trail and we had talked about watching the notebook later and I made a comment about “how romantic would it be if we kissed in the rain”, it was not raining that day. So he picked up handfuls of maple seeds and threw them in the air. They rained around us and he kissed me under them. It’s probably one of my favorite memories.

11. Peter Rabbit hugging his momma. This tattoo was dedicated to my mom. My nursery as a baby was Peter Rabbit themed, and I still have a lot of the decorations still in my room 24 years later :’) I also love my mom a lot.

12. A heart locket with my childhood cat in the frame. Pretty self explanatory. It was dedicated in his memory. He was literally the best cat ever and i miss him everyday. He passed on my 19th bday.

Thank you so much for asking Anon!!! I really enjoyed diving into this :)

#send me asks #send anons #anon ask #ask me anything #answered #tattoos #tattoed girls #tattoo artwork #questions

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awiola · 1 month

Text

Normal update, winter XXIV

BUT IT'S NOT WINTER ANYMORE HA! Happy after-equinox to y'all. I planned to write the update in march and it's still technically march but, like, y'know, it's the first day of spring so it feels kind of late, ig? Not that it really matters here and I drew Morana on fire so all is good.

This is not completely [un]related but I'm trying to complete the 'draw sth for 100 days straight' challenge and rn it's going okay though I have to admit I'm being a lazy ass. But hey, a bad sketch a day is still a drawing. Not sure if that's the reason I wasn't able to complete my easter sketch dump but knowing me it wouldn't be finished anyway so whatever ig. AND YES, I WILL DRAW FATHER DAKI ON TIME. I planned to do it when I was drawing Agatha for thug in PE's style but oh well... You'll see both ot these pics on the first of april.

Also, like, in case anyone was interested, I finally decided to learn how to adult and might open comms this year? I tell myself I'll open them since, like, 2020 so yeah. Maybe. I think I will, tho.

Current game stuff

Mushroom game... Yeah... It exists and I technically haven't dropped it but yeah... Yeah... Tbh I even hid the link from my page but it's still public and all... But yeah... It goes into the "finally finish it in 2024, you stupid fuck" list - which, incidentally, is a mouthful so from now on it's gonna be "24 >:C" - together with Enmity and all.

Remember the golem game? Yeah, we don't see its non human form but I did technically draw it. Humanoids are, like, so last decade. It's called Sorcerer's golem and because I was not the lead, we managed to nicely finish it on time ✨ [Unrelated but I wonder what happened to the old unicode emotes, I need to look into it]. There's not really a lot I have to say here, tbh. It's short, it's wholesome, I'm totally not gonna go almost fully lineless again. I almost died and it was only two sprites. Never again proceeds to do that again later anyway.

Some time after, or maybe during, I can't really remember, I heard of Queer Vampire Jam and ofc had to join because I wouldn't be me if I managed to stop myself from joining yet another jam. It just so happened I both felt like shit and read something from my SF gods at the time so I commited this open ended 3k long story and it's, like, really obvious how I felt and what I was reading but then I decided to go yolo and publish it anyway, especially since I got an editor and made laby draw for me. Just had to publish it at that point. Enough about that, though - let's see what is it all about. Vani vani, because Tas tatum was deemed too lame of a name is a story about a [queer obviously] vampire who's kinda dead inside and it shows. I did say it was obvious I felt like shit. I'm not sure if it ended up being too edgy or not... I mean, I made it really obvious it's, like gestures vaguely y'know? I don't wanna spell it out but, like, the theme and everything there was so obvious I'll be disappointed in you if you didn't get it based on the pun title [the other two layers of puns there aren't as obvious] and the page/thumbnail. Unless, of course, you never heard about it at all which might be the case for people from other continents, I wouldn't know. I realise that doesn't say a lot about the contents but I mean, it's more of a progress update, I'm not actually trying to market anything here lol So whatever. It might be the only game ever where I put a whole nsfw scene of a sexual nature... Or it might just be the beginning of my unsexy h scene adventures. I even asked others how to make it as unsexy as possible and I hope I succeed. Going into gore or kink migh be sexy for some but boredom? Probably to no one who actually reads it. And, as is the case with my other personal games, not a lot of people read them. So I think I succeed at that. It's just the beginning of my SF adventures, though. Be prepared.

Now for the thing that might interest the potential reader the most because I saw the statistics and I bet all the follows are alse due to that - Impostor Syndrome. I know the page is pretty much silent but we are working on this. The common route received a lot of notes to make it longer, more cohesive, funnier and possibly better for all the gremlins that wanted a troll mode. Or at least that was the plan. Route wise we had something but after some consideration, it had to be basically scrapped. I won't go into all the details here as for why, but the rewriting of the outline is proceeding. Slowly cause it's kinda hard to find the best time to talk when you have multiple people from different timezones to consider but I think it's looking good. There's a sliiight possibility it might be a bit less vanilla than, like, your typical sfw otome but I don't think any vanilla lover would think it's too much or anything. Not nearly kinky enough for that. I think labelling it as having a soft dom MC might even be false advertising. Maybe. Hell if I know, I suck at tags. But yeah, it's proceeding. Obviously it won't be out during winter but I do think it will be finished this year. Most likely.

From other game stuff... I might have a monster type project made with Ameena for you. Or I might not. The designs are done but is anything gonna come out of them? We'll see. Leaving the possibility open.

I helped Doibats [who I helped with Cool Days before] with some art. This time it's an rpg, currently still in development. The cool art direction is still there so I think it would be worth a play when it's out. I think I'm more of a guest artist than an actual member of the team, though lol But yeah, check it out when it's done, I'll link it then.

Yet another game where I didn't do much - The Villainess Just Wants To Eat!! had its full, official release 🎉 Congrats to the team [check out their gui, btw]. I was mostly helping with this or that due to the usual jam team stuff that happens but yeah. Syd wrote afterstories for the charas, too. They're technically linked on the game's page, too, but you can read them on her tumblr, too.

I kind of forgot to mention, which also ties with my next point, but she hosted the Ossan jam again which I planned to join with my nano project about Wedding crashers but I overestimated my ability to write energetic chaos so... umm... Well, it's not dropped and while it won't get done in time for nano, I think I'll manage before Ossan jam ends. It started as a loose idea that kinda parodied romcoms and then the protag became an AAA battery but also aplatonic and then I got some concepts from tea[? - dunno how they want to be called 'officially' and this one seemed safe but?] and yeah. I'm trying to work on this, though. Even though I feel so stupid attempting to write an anthropologist. Should've stuck to writing mostly what you know like with Vani vani, eehhh... Wish me luck o3o

The last thing, or two, probably, is more of a... forecast? I happened to help with the editing of a certain 18+ otome game but I'm not on the team or anything so I can't really tell you more since I don't know how much should I reveal to the potential player but from what I've seen, the development goes well since they started making it for nano and might actually be finished before Otome jam ends so I'll link it then.

The other thing is that in an unspecified future I might have a yet another AAA battery protagonist, this time replacing the MC of an otome isekai story. I'm not sure how much I'll help with [maybe just editing, maybe we'd become a two person team, who knows] but it has a hight possibility of being developed eventually. No set dates or anything, though.

Pariiish noootiiiceees

Remember Tentacle jam and Insect [adjacent] jam? They're still happening, I'm just being lazy setting the pages up. The working date is from around the middle of august to the middle of october due to all the other jams happening at the time. I think it's the final date, though. It's come to my attention there's also the Monstrous Desires jam that also shares the timeframe almost perfectly so, y'know, why not make a game that lets you join all three of them? Just a thought.

---

My god, this thing became so long. Like half the length of my typical personal project orz I had to add all the Ps and BRs manually. Damn you, html shakes fist

Over.

#devstuff #vndev #awi update

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diary-in-disguise · 1 year

Text

Ate Too Much 3/25/23

I feel so uncomfortable in my body. Ughh so annoying. I think i got frustrated because i’m nearing the end of my art goal but the last part feels like such a drudge to finish. I hope i can knock out the last 4 with ease. 38/40 right now. It’s so damn hard when i’m so close to being done. I don’t know how i even did it all. Yet here i am. It took about everything i had to make all 40 of these sprites. My soul is honestly tortured and exhausted from it all. I hope to god i take better care of myself because i can’t let loose easily at all.

I hope none of my art from now on ever makes me feel such despair. I also had to remake some of the sprites so it came out to be about 50 fucking paintings. That’s just too crazy.

Anyways i gotta let loose and feel better. I feel like my soul is sick from working so much. So muc torture, so much from all these paintings. I’m gonna go crazy if they don’t get done.

0 notes

peachiimilquetea · 3 years

Note

Ok ok ok please god i need "Am I your first kiss?" fluff with iida for the event. I love your angst but good god it fucked me up really good

"𝐚𝐦 𝐢 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬?" + tenya iida

a/n: thank you so much! i literally never write angst for myself pls it bums me out lol, but ooooo this is good! i haven't written pure fluff in a hot minute so this request was a welcome change! i was literally listening to kiss me more while I finished this up FBSJKFBDS check out my event here!

contains: flustered iida, friends to lovers, 7 minutes in heaven woot woot, class rep iida technically breaking the rules?, class bonding, very fluffy, me writing kissing scenes despite never having been kissed beyond a peck

length: 1.3k

a/n ii: this is also lightly proofread so i apologize for any errors! happy 4th for anyone that’s celebrating today!

“you guys, lets play 7 minutes in heaven!”

famous last words. tenya felt his heart sink as he watched his classmates whoop and cheer, agreeing with denki’s obvious ploy to get some action in a way that nobody could make fun of him for.

kirishima grabbed the giant bottle of sprite he had been nursing and chugged it, letting out a large burp at the end, “now we have a bottle to spin!”

although iida was usually not one to participate in these kinds of games, he decided to step out of his comfort zone for the night. after all, you were there and the statistical odds that he would get to kiss you would be higher if he stayed.

he almost did a spit take as you smiled at him, “hey, maybe we’ll get paired off together.”

unfortunately, there was no time for him to respond to you as jirou turned the bass boosted music down and everyone arranged themselves in a lopsided circle around the empty soda bottle.

“everyone knows the rules right?” asked mina, and a chorus of yeses and mhms flew through the air.

“alright so who’s going first?”

iida was terrified out of his mind.

he was never one to believe in what he deemed to be silly superstitions, but he wholeheartedly believed the bottle was sentient and picking people on purpose.

due to his unlikely friendship with mina, he knew who was interested in who and he watched in disbelief as everyone was given a shot with their person of choice. and they all looked different when they came out of that utility closet, hair messier than before, faces flushed, some even sporting marks that told the rest of the class everything they needed to know.

“dude, are you paying attention? you’re up!” denki’s voice rang out, snapping iida out of his overthinking loop.

“uhhh, i think he drank some of the spiked punch you guys..” whispered sero and mina nudged him in the stomach hard, making him double over with a loud oof.

“i told you guys to pay attention to who was getting what. now hes gonna have an aneurysm that he broke the school rules!”

ignoring them, he turned his sights onto the sprite bottle. did he really want to do this?

before he could even answer the question for himself, kirishima spun the bottle again and his eyes followed it as it spun around, around, around, landing on… you.

the whoops and cheers from his peers, and the knowing glance from mina, meant nothing to him in this moment. he was nervous, not even sure if it was real, that the universe had even given him such an opportunity to be so close to you. alone. for 7 minutes.

“alright you two, into the closet you go! watch your head iida its a bit of a tight fit,” kiri laughed and iida felt his body move of its own volition, barely even looking at your face as the two of you walked in and the door was shut behind you.

he reached up to adjust his glasses, staring at a random point on the floor as you stood on opposite sides of the compact room in silence.

“we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” you spoke up, breaking the tension and making iida really look at you for the first time since the bottle landed on you. you seemed more down to earth under the dimmer lighting, adjusting your hair and fidgeting with your clothes a bit as you anticipated his response.

“well i-”

“like if you dont want to kiss me, if you were hoping for someone else, i mean, i completely respect that,” you stared at your shoes. why did i say that? you thought as you continued to be met with silence.

tenya was confused. hoping for someone else? so you couldn’t tell how much faster his heart was beating, how his palms were soaking through every single item of clothing and how his ears were practically glowing? oh.

“why would i be hoping to be paired with someone else?”

your heart stopped at his pseudo confession. where do you go from here? does he want to kiss you? was he just being nice? his face lit up more as your eyes raked over him, trying to figure out his angle.

“do you want to kiss me, tenya?”

straight to the point. iida wanted to answer you, he really did but anything he had planned to say died on his lips. his mouth felt terribly dry and he almost resembled a dying fish as he gawked at you.

“am i… your first kiss?”

he was caught. he swallowed and nodded, bracing himself for the onslaught of giggles and teasing, but it never came.

you gathered his hands in your own, smoothing over his knuckles and calming his trembling heart.

“its ok, i don’t have much experience either, but if you want, we can try it together,” you declared softly.

his heart squeezed at your sincerity, excited at the prospect of his cheezy daydreams becoming a reality.

“a-alright. let’s give it a try.”

moving closer to him you cupped his cheek, bringing his face close to yours.

“go slow,” he whispered and you nodded before slotting your mouth against his. you could feel his inexperience, you were the only one actually doing any kissing, but after a few moments, he parted his lips and began to kiss you back.

it was a soft kiss, nothing too risque, but you felt like your entire body was on fire. his hands tentatively snaked around your waist as you kissed him deeper, completely forgetting your surroundings. iida tried to pull away and took a step back, knocking into a mop bucket and almost falling on his ass.

you broke away from him, laughing as you held him up. his smile was so genuine as he laughed, rosy cheeked partially from embarrassment, but mostly because you just kissed him and he kissed you back.

“so…”

“i apologize for my bluntness, ____, but… can i kiss you again?”

you eagerly obliged the shy boy, tangling your hands in his hair and kissing him with more intensity. by the second time around, iida had gotten his bearings and understood the general idea around kissing, so it was fun for the both of you.

neither of you noticed the click of the doornob turning or the disbelieving murmurs coming from your class as they watched the two of you make out.

“holy shit, i didn’t know you had it in you class rep,” bakugo smirked, eliciting giggles from the rest of the class as you two realized you were being watched.

iida’s face rivaled kirishima’s hair in hue as he practically jumped away from you, glasses fogging up in embarrassment.

you ignored everyone’s jests and grabbed his hands, intertwining your fingers and sitting with him at the other end of the couch. you turned your head to see mina giving you a huge smile and a thumbs up and you smiled back, giving tenya a kiss on the cheek and cuddling into his side.

#[🍑]peachiimilquetea #[🍑]peachiiwrites #iida fluff #mha fluff #bnha fluff #tenya iida x reader #tenya iida #mha iida #iida x reader #tenya x reader #peachiileafsfw

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gukieater · 2 years

Text

I'll be Better

• Plot | Kim Taehyung. Man of ethereal beauty and spontaneous virtues. A man so perfect he will put the Greek god’s to shame. But man’s got a fatal flaw. Man procrastinate. But it comes with a cost.

• Pairing | Taehyung x FEM Reader

• Words | 5.3k (ish?)

• Genre | Hurt, hurt, world of Hurt, failed attempt at humour, tiny tinsy fluff

•Warning| Major character death, hurt pure anguish, throwing up, slight mention of insecurities, Taehyung is an idiot here.

• Note | Nothing just woke up one day and wanted pure angst for dessert. I never ever edit or proof read what I write, so enjoy the unadulterated word vomit ( if you can).

Kim Taehyung. Man of ethereal beauty and spontaneous virtues. A man so perfect he will put the Greek god’s to shame. But man’s got a fatal flaw. Man procrastinate.

Don’t get him wrong he’s almost perfect with his charming yet efficient nature. But he’s got some past life beef with doing something in time, especially when he’s told to. Taehyung got his degree in Naval Architecture in distinction but attended his own graduation 30 minutes late.

Fashionably late, I know.

Not really.

He almost got beaten up by his own best friend on his own wedding day when he showed up at the alter an hour late because Hoseok thought Taehyung stood his sister up on the day of their damn wedding.

Reason for showing up late? Could not locate the lapel he was handed over that happens to be the family heirloom of his in laws which he remembers confidently thinking, will find when gets ready. So unlike a normal person who sorts his wardrobe the night before, he goes to sleep after 5 rounds of call of duty. And tada! To his surprise not really, he indeed ended up misplacing the lapel anyways. Can’t blame the man, loves living his life on the edge, feel the thrill kind of deal.

3 years ago

Undoubtedly the Jung Residence, which happens to be the wedding venue is a chaos.

Hoseok is sprouting profanity, Jin, the not to be found groom’s elder brother is trying to convince the caterer there indeed, will be a wedding, unless the groom is dead. Namjoon, the second elder brother is trying his best to keep the crowd engaged with his not so engaging speech about how cocktail parties are bad for marine biology. The bride’s mother is switching between sniffling and wondering their ever so gentle son, Hoseok, the Walking talking ball of sunshine, who they believe, farts rainbow, where he learned to cuss like this. And the rest of the pack, Jimin and Jungkook is trying to locate the man in question. And right on cue, the man shows up.

Uhh, quick question, did he find the lapel? No

So he shows up without it and with lots of excuses to save his ass one last time.

Amidst the shit mix, there’s one person who is calm, sitting on her chair, sipping the abandoned sprite that was meant for her brother to calm his wits. She’s tired and would like nothing but to get out of wedding dress and curl up with man in the confines of their freshly furnished bedroom. Why people can’t get married in Tee’s? Curse the stigmatism of pretentious social norms.

The woman in question is Jung Hae Yun, if you were wondering, soon to be Mrs. Kim Hae Yun

Tae ignores the chaos happening around him, walks straight towards the woman now seeping the almost finished sprite can, not so amused with the chaos unfolding.

“What did you do, now?” She questions, unblinking. “Misplaced the lapel, couldn’t show up without it. Knew you’d be mad” mumbles the guilty man.

“Hmm, figured. Did you at least shower?” She ask pining and adjusting the lapel on his coat.

“Are you kidding me? Who shows up at their wedding without a shower, do you think you are marrying such uncouth pers . . . . W-what the fuck is that? Is that the lapel I was loosing my head for? W-where did u find it?” He tumbles over his words.

“I kept it to myself after telling you the n-th time to keep it somewhere safe, I texted you that I’ll be bringing it with myself tomorrow, which you clearly missed or forgot” Taehyung groans and you pat his bum, asking him to go prepare for the ceremony.

“ Let’s get this circus rolling, I’m tired and hangry. I’d probably murder someone from your family if I hear one more complain about how the coffee could have been roasted better. I wanna go home and cuddle”

Home.

As the chaos starts to settle down, the sun is about to set, the fairy light blinks to life, the vows are taken, tears are shed, promises made, the ascend to the dance floor, one last ritual to be completed. They slow danced to their favorite song, a tribute to their high school escapades, reminiscing the dance to their prom, silly promises that they will make it.

And they did, now content in each others arm. Tired, but complete.

Present.

Things are never dull in the Kim residence. Whether its all giggles and laughter from teasing each other or it’s, you know, banter over silly stuffs.

“Kim Taehyung, did you just wipe Cheeto crumbs on my burlap?care to explain why? “

“Uhhh . . . . It happens to be there? Besides you look better without them . . . *winks*”

And you stand there, unamused.

The attempt to seduction the wilt the dumpster fire he started backfires, he knows, could do better.

It ends up the burlap thrown in his face and now he’s making stop to the laundry at an ungodly hour when he could have been cuddling up with you- when you are leaving for 4 days tomorrow.

Does he ever learns his lesson?

When he makes it back to the bedroom he finds you curling up beside the bathtub, face buried in your knees, soft sniffles could be heard.

“Hey,hey, hey! I’m sorry, I know that was your favorite, but I swear it’s not ruined. I put it in the dryer, I’ll press it for you, it will be good as new by tomorrow, before you leave. Can’t have my munchkin all sad and crying over something when I won’t see her for 4 fucking days. Can’t have my baby bear leave like this. “ Taehyung says crouching down to you, trying to pull your face up, it doesn’t work.

“Baby, talk to me. Is it just the burlap or I messed up something else too?” He sounds desperate now. You look up and glare at this. “Yes, yes you did. Look what did you do” you throw a stick thingy at him, sounding more annoyed than angry. Confused, Taehyung picked up, staring at the two bars. He blinks once, twice

“Oh, this? Huh! Niceeee” he chuckles standing up. “Nice? That’s it? Are you fucking dumb or today’s a special occasion? Did you eat the last two working braincells of yours with that bag of family size Cheetos? Yahhhh! Kim Taehyung, you get back here and stop acting like a manchild! What the fuck is nice!” Hae Yun now full on blazing.

On her fit of shouting the ear of everyone within the vicinity of 100 yards , she misses how her idiot of a husband’s legs woobles as he stands up to walk away.

It doesn’t work, it gives out and he falls face first before he could even cross the threshold of the bathroom. She could feel her head throbbing, groaning as she realizes it’s going to be a longgggg pregnancy.

Don’t get him wrong, Kim Taehyung is excited. Tooo damn much for his own good. But he’s Also scared shitless. He’s like one of those students who is overexcited to be promoted ahead of the rest of the class to the next one, but now that they are there’s one buzzing question that wasn’t before, now what? Everyone knew he wanted kids but now that he’s going to, he doesn’t know what comes next. Is he going to be a shit father? How will he balance being a husband, a father and a thriving professional? Is there a manual, a standard he should be fitting in? Should he be learning something and he’s falling behind?

Yep, mark him terrified.

Hae Yun enjoyed this phase of Taehyung. Meticulous, calculative, doing his chores like priest in shrine- dedicated, full of attention, never missing a single prayer. But as time went and Taehyung got eased into the process, the old Taehyung is back. Functioning but always at a procrastinating pace.

“Did you change the filter of the kitchen chimney ?”

- Will do it on the weekend.

“Did you water the plants”

- Probably tomorrow

“ Did you put the Legos in the basket”

- I’ll use them later anyway

“ Did you order the crib?”

- You are just 14 weeks along

“ Did you book doctors appointment?”

- They take walk-in appointments

“ Did you fix your car? “

- Uhh, later?

They say, the way a man maintains his car says a lot about him. Not the case for Mr. Kim. He’d probably be declared a hooligan if you apply this theory to judge his character by now, no doubt in there. He loves his car, he barely enough to keep it running. So when it starts jerking with every turn he takes or Everytime he hits the break, he decides it time his beloved car go for a rest and take the backseat. Jogging to work is healthy right?

“You do realize that it’s the only functioning car in this household and you have a heavily pregnant wife at home?” Hae Yun exhales. “ Ohh Please! You could still milk the runway and people would fall face firs . . .” Tae wince a little remembering the little bathroom incident when he discovered you were pregnant. “Taehyung stop joking, we need that car running” you whine taking the controller out of his hand, crawling into his lap. It’s the weekend and she wants to go on a drive along the sea, eat some hot pajeon, maybe take a nap in the beach. But Tae won’t fix the damn car.

“Alright alright, ll’l fic . . da. . ca . .” Taehyung mumbles stuffing his face on your neck. Fuck you smell good, like baby powder. Is it the pregnancy? He heard babies smell good, like soft cloud on a sunny day, somewhere between crispy earth and something musty forest. Is it how his baby will smell? The thought brings a tingle in his stomach, he can’t wait to smell his baby’s feet.

You’ve gone visit your cousin, who also happens to be your doctor, Ae-Ra. And he full on intended to cheat on you with his console, you know huddle up in his bean bag, play for hours at stretch but you are the ever vigilant. You called the mechanic not trusting Taehyung’s promise to fix the car while you are gone. The Mechanic did come and sprouted some nonsense about loss of brake fluids and brake booster being dinged. He offered to toe his car to the garage, not diming it safe to drive it back to the garage but Taehyung just dismisses him. Who ruins a perfectly good weekend grinding to pull permission and waste it on waiting in garage?

So when the next day Hae Yun asks if he fixed the car or not when he was leaving without it, he just lies that he did. “Why are not taking it with you then?” He knows they’ll just fight if he tells her the truth. The last couple of days hasn’t been the greatest for her, either of them. Hae Yun’s struggling with her maternity leave as they are already planning to lay off some employee in the upcoming months. Going on a leave at such time would just give them a easy choice to let her go permanently. Tae is not doing so hot either. Naval Architect designer isn’t exactly a hot shot job amidst the wave of of covid as it hits the economy.

“I’m thinking of going bowling at Itaewon later today, catch up with the boys, maybe drink a little. So I’ll just call in a cab” guilts starts creeping in as the lies tumbles from his mouth. Was it really necessary Taehyung? Just fix the damn car, what’s so difficult about it?

“Oh, that was sudden.” You had a plan but didn’t even bother telling me. “I didn’t know that you guys were planning to go bowling.” You could’ve invited me. “What’s the occasion?” Am I overwhelming you? Tae groans a little bit at that, “I miss the guys Hae Yun, do I need occasion for that?” A look of hurt flashes across her face but she’s quick to hide, now that it’s gone, she feels a bit embarrassed. He was right. “I was just asking Tae. Enjoy your night out” you say, voice so small.

Now he feels like an asshole, because he knows he’s just projecting his own guilt in you. And since when he calls you by your name? Of course he does when he’s joking around but never in conversations like this, knows this triggers your insecurities.

So what he does, rather than resolving the issue like mature person, he nods and leaves. This wasn’t a fight but somehow the confrontation made him feel tentimes worse than that.

Hae Yun won’t lie that it didn’t hurt. Not because he made a plan without informing him. They had a Doctors appointment today, pretty important one at that. It’s the final check-up of her first trimester and they are supposed to find out the baby’s gender today. She remembers asking him pulling an appointment and set a reminder so they can be on time, not wanting to rush through the procedure. She was thrumming with excitement just a couple of hours ago, the whole encounter dimming her excitement.

Taehyung has been the one to be more excited about the pregnancy between the two of them. Seeing his excitement dimming down when it’s not even her 2nd trimester yet, it truly hurts. Or maybe she was just overthinking. Not wanting to exhaust herself further, she decides to take a nap.

She wakes up to her phone blaring, Ae-Ra blasting up her phone. “Did you both decide to take a nap and call it a day? Could’ve informed me, would’ve saved up my nanny energy for another time!” Ae-Ra grumbles through the phone. “ Wait . . . Wha . .what time is it?” “It’s almost 7 dumbo, and why didn’t you book an appointment? I thought you guys were all set.” Hae-Yun sighs at this, “I asked Tae, he must’ve forgotten” “Yunie, you sound exhausted, let’s do this another time?” “Nooo, no, no. I’ll be there, give me 30 min” – AeRa sighs, she knows something’s wrong. Shhe loves these two idiots but she swears both of them can be bit of a dimwit about resolving issues.

“ Yeah, yeah I left. Should not take more than 20 min to reach” – Hae-Yun shuffles through the door.

“ Tae? He’s out bowling with the boys, not sure if will make it, so the gender reveal may have to wait “ – she sounds almost somber while answering the question.

“ Did something happen Yunie?”

“No, everything’s just fine Ae-Ra”- you try to reason.

“listen, I know you never share whenever there’s a problem but maybe this is a problem itself, something that should not be happening between you and Tae” – Ae-Ra tries to reason. “But . . .” “ Besides both of you are shit at communicating when it boils down to confronting problems. You guys just keep sweeping it under rug until it becomes too big to ignore. You guys are going to have a child for fucks sake, stop acting like one!”

- “Yunie? Are you listening?”

- “Yaaah! Don’t ignore your unnie while she’s trying to be nice you brat! “

- “Yaaaaah!”

“. . . Unnie . . .”

Ae-ra could hear her heart pounding in her ear at your shaky voice, “Hae-Yun, I’m so sorry baby, unnie didn’t mean to sound so har. . . .”

“The brakes aren’t working . . .”

Taehyung sits at the bar, watching the boys bowling, bickering with each other. He did end up calling the boys, to soothe his growing guilt, so it would feel like he didn’t lie after all. Does it make him feel better? No.

He is replaying today’s encounter in his head over and over again. Was it worth it? The lies? The unnecessarily harsh confrontation? Why does he keep doing things to make things difficult for you, for both of them? It was just a car, just him pushing things off ended up them having a unpleasant conversation that felt worse than a fight. Is he doing the same thing with other stuff, pushing things of that are important, things he needs to take care of, taking care of you, his family?

Just on cue his phone dings and the small notification answers the questions for him

“Little peach’s gender reveal ❤️🍑, Hae – Yun’s appointment at 7:20pm”

Taehyung could cry right now, and he does a little bit. Jin from the other corner, sees his little brother’s shoulder shake a little as he burrows his head on the bar counter.

He notices the notification as he approaches to console his brother. “Taehyung-aaa, what did you do now?” He both inquires and scolds his brother at the same time, knowing it must be related to Hae-Yun given he looked like a kicked puppy the entire evening. “Been a giant ass is what I did” he sniffles a bit. “Hyung, can you kick me in the nuts if I don’t go fix my car tomorrow. Not so hard though, I still want 5 more kids” Tae mumbles. “Tell you what, I’ll do better, will drag you there myself tomorrow” Jin smiles at his brother’s tantrum.

“ I gotta call Hae-Yun, I can still mak . . .” Their conversation is interrupted by a call, a number he doesn’t recognize. “ Well pick up, could be from the hospital about the appointment?” Jin suggests.

“Hello? Who is it”

“ Hello, I’m calling from Seuol Fire departments emergency responders team. There’s been an accident near the Jeonju intersection. Your name was on victims emergency contact, we are still trying to get her ou . . . .”

Tae’s ear’s are ringing, he couldn’t comprehend past that last sentence. He could still hear muffled noises from the other side of the phone but couldn’t get himself to bring the phone near him. “Hyung . . .” He blindly calls for his brother, he needs to hold him. Wrap him up in a blanket, tuck him to bed and ask him to sleep. Like he used to do when he was a kid, too afraid of the thunder. “When Tae bear will wake up tomorrow, it will be all gone, there will be no thunder, no storms, like it wasn’t even there. Only sunshine and smell of rain.” Just like he used to do when he was a child, He blindly reaches out for Jin, “Hyung . . . they . . .ummm. . . . they . . . Hae-Yun . . .” Tae gulps, unable to form any coherent sentence, fat drop of tears streaming down his cheeks but, he looks so afraid. “ I know, Hoseok called, Ae-Ra called him”

Taehyung doesn’t know how he drove to the intersection in one piece, didn’t even think of waiting for his hyung and friends before he took a mad dash towards Jin’s car, all of them shouting for him to wait, not trusting him to drive at this state. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did you take his car? Why did you trust him? And why did he lie to you? It was supposed to be a happy day for both of them, they would got to know their little peach is their prince of princess, what color socks they would buy them. She was supposed to be safe in his arm. He was supposed to keep her safe.

He tumbles out of the car, scrapping his palms and knees, not even bothering to close the door. He locates his car, what’s left it anyway and runs towards it. All It looks like is a hunks of metal now.

Is that . . . is that blood? Why is there so much blood? Is it yours? Tae can’t even stomach the though, hunching forward he hurls out his lunch to the pavement, dry heaving when he’s done. “ Sir, are you okay? Please step away from the zone” , A man in fire department uniform inquires Taehyung. “M-my ….m-my. . .w-wife . . .s-s-somebody called . . . m-my c-car . . . how . .s-she . . “ he points towards the car, unable to complete the sentence.

“I . .uhh . . . another team took her to the hospital just moments ago before you arrived. It took a lot of time to get her out of the car so lost bloods . . “.he’s pushing against the man before he knows, not wanting to hear another word, walking towards his car, looking like a madman. “ Sir, you shouldn’t be driving at this state, is there anyone who can drive you?” He nods, pushing again, asking them to let him go. He doesn’t even have the energy to push anymore, as if all the fight he had in himself left him.

Jungkook comes running, taking the keys from him to help him stand, Tae doesn’t let go of the death grip on the keys.” Hyung, I’ll drive, we can reach faster, please, Noona needs you.” At this he looks at Jungkook, eyes incoherent, not a single sound leaving his mouth, tears flowing, his face lost of all colors, emotions. Never in his life Jungkook thought he’ll see Taehyung like this, so broken, hopeless, lost of life. “ Please, God please, let her be okay. We can’t loose 3 of them” Jungkook silently prays, barely holding in his own tears, holding on to his hyung, leading him to the car.

He hates the smell of hospitals, his stomach always rolls into this twisted knot everytime he visits one. It’s too clean, too neutral, burning his nostrils. And it’s too quite now, so much so it’s driving him crazy, these white walls, too pristine, is that how people in mental asylum feels?

They won't let him see her. Won't tell him anything. He almost lashes out on Jimin when he tried to physically force to back from breaking in the room where Hae-Yun is being kept. Accused them of trying to take her away from him. Instead of being hurt by his words, they cried. And this somehow made him angrier. Why are they crying ? Why they would look at him like he's something fragile, someone who needs to be held so delicately. Why won't they cuss him out? Can't they see he's a monster? That he put you and his unborn child in that room, fighting for their life?

"Let me go in, please. I would just observe", Namjoon tries to go in, trying to stay as put up as possible. " Namjoon you know I can't, you're family, it against protocol." "Just. . ." Namjoon clenches his jaws, " Sir, Just. . . .tell me, okay? Just tell me if . . . If she would be . . . If she would make it." He asks the man Namjoon knew his entire medical life, nerve of steel, so confident, won't meet his eyes. "Namjoon you know we would do our best right?"

Numb, he feels numb. He's watching people come and leave as he stares at the white walls sitting in the cold hospital floor. He doesn't protest, doesn't fight against his hyungs when the push him up to go home. He thought they would blame him, call him out but they they don't. He wants to scream at this, wants people to accuse him. He's now standing in front of their home. Home. This is what it's used to be. Funny how he can't stand the site of it. He makes a beeline to the shower, when he's about to turn it on her looks at his hand, his beige shirt now tainted maroon. He doesn't remember getting hurt so much to bleed like this.

Then it hits him he fell, on the road, it's your blood. He's pushing at his shirt now, wiping his hands on it ferociously. As if it will take it all away. This makes all of it much much real. That you, his sweet sweet Hae Yun, his angel, the mother of his child, he is drenched in your blood. This sits like a tons of bolder on his chest. He hits his chest, he hits it again, and again, and again until he can't breathe anymore. He wants to cry, would make him feel better. But he doesn't deserve it so he lays on the cold bathroom tiles, lifeless.

He looks at the apartment, that once used to be his home, his safe place. This place, every nook and cranny holds trinkets of your existence, no matter how insignificant now that he looks at it carefully. Your dresser has a faint smudge of that maroon lipstick that you may have wiped unconsciously when you may have applied too much. There's a loose scrunchie hanging from the bed's headboard. One of your favorite pair lashes sticks to the corner of the mirror, weren't you complaining fee days back you lost one of it? a faint smile creeps up on him at the memory.

You always forget the WiFi password so you have it written on the coffee right under the glass, so you can give it someone if they visit without embarrassing yourself. You have the umbrella set near the kitchen counter so you can remember to take it when you are packing your lunch. Taehyung thumbs at your favorite mug, one he gave you years ago, when he took you to a spring festival, it was a cheap purchase, bought with the pocket money he saved up. It had a golden lining to the rim, beautiful grey and blue faded mosaic on the outside. One side of it chipped away from your constant use, still you refuse it throw away. From the counter he could see your sitting cushion, that looks like a duck floaty, now an ugly faded yellow color. It's all so insignificant, but together, they all made this place what it was, his home.

He came out of the shower, took out the pressed baby blue button down that you love so much and the khaki colored dress pant from their dresser. He takes his time brushing his hair as he gets ready. He took out the number that you left on the fridge, he dials it fixes a date when they will come change the filter on the chimney, now that he looks closely, it does look really dirty.

He waters the houseplants that was almost withering on the shade from too much sunlight and too little water, he cares every single leaf on them with care. He collects the Lego, put them on the basket, put them on their designated corner. Just one more task left but guess he can do it later. Doesn't he always.

He got the call when he was in the shower. Namjoon barely whispering to ask him to come to the hospital. He didn't utter a single word to this. After the shower he looks really put together, he remembers the day when he officially met your parents, to ask for their permission to marry their daughter, a faint smile spreading at the memory. Namjoon sits him down on the waiting area opposite to the room where you are at now. He nervously fiddling with his fingers, lips moving and trembling trying to form sentences.

"When . . .uhh . . .the t-truck h-hit H-hae-Yun and the c-car, s-she was coming in v-very fast. The uhh . . .line . . Shaft on the driver's side . . .it. . . tore at the crush . . . it impaled her . . .n-near h-heart, t-toring a few ligaments" Namjoon takes a deep breathe before continuing. " She . . .Hae-Yun lost a lost blood, when T-They were t-trying to get her out and went into shock." Namjoon felt his throat constricting, not able to look at his baby brother. " T-They lost the baby on their way to the hospital. T-They still had a faint signature an hour after . . .they . . .uhh . .they hooked her to ventilation . . .they . . .they can't find it anymore. She . . .the . . . impact broke the spine, she lost feelings on her limbs right after so . . . so . . . I know she didn't suffer Tae" . . . " It's been over 2 hours, there's . . . hasn't been a single signature " "we were . . waiting for you before we, uhh, pull the plug" Namjoon finishes blinking back tears.

"Can I go see her now?" Tae ask, looking at the floor. Not a single tear in sight. Namjoon nods.

The distance between the door to your bed seemed like lifetime. With each step, each blink he could see the memories flashing. Meeting you, making sand Castle with you, digging dart to find worms for fishing bait, high - school prom, graduating together. The heartbreak when they part ways in college, finding their way back to each other, the lazy dates on his couch, drunk escapdes, getting down on his knees to finally make you his, the wedding vows, the pregnancy test. There's so many memories to live by.

Tae gently takes your hand in his, your hand were always so warm, Tae would always demand you to cup his cheeks when they are outside. Or squeezing inside your jacket, calling you his personal portable furnace when you would whine. It's so cold now.

"Hey munchkin, did you sleep well? You must've, you don't look so bad for the wear you know."

" I uh . . I . . . I was so mad at myself before coming here you know. Mad that I missed our appointment, mad that we had a fight, no matter how small. Mad that I lied" Taehyung swallows the lump in his throat. "Now that I realize, I was more sorry than I was mad. Sorry that I slept through the movie night you were so excited about. Sorry that I laughed when you cried after losing your favorite plushie on our vacation to Jeju, sorry that I lost your favorite book marker. Sorry that I spent more time playing video games than spending it with you, sorry that I didn't appreciate your cooking more. Sorry that I didn't kiss you more. Sorry that I spend more time feeling mad or sorry than loving you more"

Namjoon can't bring himself to tell Taehyung it, so he grips Taehyung's shoulder, letting him know it's time. He doesn't protest, neither acknowledge them. He can't see them fiddling with switch that holding you life with a thin thread, thread that he will have to watch tore apart before his own eyes. He can't see your beautiful face anymore too now that tears are springing in his eyes.

So instead he presses on " But I won't be sorry anymore, honey, I uh I called the number to come check the filter that you were complaining about. They will come fix it next week. I finally watered the house plants, poor things almost died. I put the Lego on the box, kept them on the corner. I vacuumed the living room I know how much you hate dust. And . . . I'm putting away the crib when I go back" his voice shakes " I swear I won't put it away for later."

He finally lets his tears run free. As they pull out the last plug, Taehyung makes his final promise to you, the one he intends to keep till his last breathe.

"Honey I promise, I promise I will do better be better."

"I'll be better"

45 notes · View notes

oh-no-my-hand-slipped · 3 years

Note

A new prompt for you! (Finally :3)

I'm picturing multiple couples or a family group (4+ adults) who share a cottage together in the middle of nowhere, living off the land. Winter is coming, bringing with it its chill winds and early dustings of snow. The people are hard at work every day, chopping wood and putting aside the last of the food for winter.

It's the worst possible time to get sick, yet someone does, coming down with a miserable, streaming cold and high fever. What do they do about it? How do the others respond?

Could have definite cottage core elements, or fantasy (since you're so good at writing that!) or contagion if you choose. Can't wait to see the results :)

It’s been so long since I’ve written a real, honest to god fic, so this will be my debut back into snzfucker favor!

Okay, okay, who to include in this house of contagion?

We need a soft healer boi that takes care of everyone before themselves, of course. A very strong, stoic, hardworking warrior with muscles of steel - but the same can’t be said for his immune system. A hyper comic relief (like if Scout from TF2 was in a fantasy setting) that insists he isn’t sick, but can’t keep back his sneezes long enough to prove his point. And, of course, a tall, thin scholar whose cold heart is only melted by his fever.

Adventurers packing it in for the winter and preparing for journeying in the spring, now only at most a few yards from each other and having shot immune systems from the exhausting work. Illness doesn’t have to travel far to infect…

Oh, this is gonna be good.

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

“Look look look! Otto, you’re not gonna believe this!”

Barlow skidded to a halt, almost tripping over his own two feet before regaining his balance. Otto chuckled.

“Alright, alright, que pasa? What is so exciting?”

Barlow fumbled with his cloak before pulling a shiny coin out of one of the pockets.

“I got this off a path when I was pickin’ berries! Must’ve been a merchant or something…”

Barlow’s eyes suddenly lit up.

“Or maybe a warrior! Ooh, or a knight! Definitely somebody with a cape.”

He flung the back of his cloak behind him and stood tall, crossing his arms with a self-satisfied grin. However, Barlow couldn’t keep the pose long - the frigid air made him close the thin burlap around himself again, shivering. Otto knitted their brow.

“You’re wearing your summer cloak,” they said, looking Barlow up and down. “You must be freezing, chiquito!”

Barlow waved his hand, as if batting away Otto’s concern.

“Don’t worry about it, doc. It’s gonna take more than a little wind to get me down.”

As if to prove a point, he spread out his arms and spun around, laughing at the many leaves he kicked up.

Otto would usually be charmed by the sprite’s antics, but their concern soon outweighed their amusement.

“Just make sure to change into your winter clothes soon, okay? I would hate for you to get sick.”

Barlow stopped spinning, coughing a bit as he caught his breath with chilly autumn air. His hot breath clouded around his face like smoke.

“Okay, okay,” he panted, “I’ll grab it when I go by the cottage. Forgot my basket anyway. See you around, doc.”

With a quick salute, Barlow ran off, cloak billowing behind him, still clenching the coin in a tight fist. Otto shook their head and sighed. They knew that Barlow just didn’t want them to worry - but that only made them worry more. The healer in them couldn’t help but notice red-tipped fingers, congested voices, and pallid complexions. Besides, with a harsh winter underway, a cold could very quickly rear its ugly head, turning into bronchitis, pneumonia, and even infect a person’s magic…

Otto took a deep breath. Their thoughts had run away with them - and now, more than ever, it was important to stay focused.

The doctor gathered up their scrolls, pulled their coat close, and started back to the cottage.

Perhaps a little tea would calm their nerves.

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

“it’CHEW! CHEW!”

“Salud.”

“Ugh…thanks, doc. Snf!”

Otto looked up from his knitting to see Barlow rubbing his long, pointy ears with a pained look on his face.

“Do your ears hurt?”

Barlow put his hands in his lap. “No! Just, uh, a little itchy.”

Severin, who had been reading on the sofa across from Otto, hid a smirk behind the yellowed pages.

“Someone must be talking about you,” he drawled smugly. “Considering the way you conduct yourself, I’m not surprised.”

Instead of snapping back, Barlow still scratched at his ears. Severin slit his eyes and continued to read. He almost seemed disappointed.

“Could be thragweed,” Godric rumbled from a large wooden stool, rubbing his beard in thought, “but they usually shrivel up by the first frost. Didja see any three-leaved plants while you were out foragin’?”

Barlow shrugged, wincing as he rubbed harder. “Um…maybe?”

Otto frowned. “Be careful. You’ll hurt yourself if you keep scratching like that.”

“S-sorry, I…huh-hold on…”

Barlow buried himself in his cloak, with only his mop of red hair showing.

“hit’SHEW! Huh…it’TCHEW!”

The sprite continued to let out sneeze after sneeze, his wrinkled, pink nose only showing when he needed to come up for air. Otto got up from their chair, and they were soon holding him by the shoulders to keep him from knocking himself over.

Barlow finally finished, snuffling into his sleeve. He looked up at Otto with bleary eyes.

“Sorry, doc, I don’d dow whad’s gotten into be…”

Otto hushed him with a gentle pat, using their free hand to feel Barlow’s forehead. They clucked their tongue.

“Oh, mijo, you have a fever...”

Barlow’s breath caught, and he coughed into his shoulder. “Nah, I…I’b okay, Otto, really. I’ll be…snrk…fide in the morning. Just gotta sleep it off…”

Otto smiled gently. “Well, you’re right about one thing. A good night’s sleep is exactly what you need. And maybe a little salve for your poor ears…”

Their hand still on Barlow’s shoulder, Otto guided the sprite to his bedroom, mumbled protests and miserable sneezes trailing behind them.

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

Barlow’s fever never grew very high - his burning ears and nose, however, kept him up for most of the night. By the time morning came, he was too exhausted to even feign health. Otto had to put him back to bed, which was only met with pitiful murmurings.

“‘M fide, doc, I…hetch’CHIIIEW!”

“Pobrecito! You sound even worse than yesterday…”

“C’mon, Otto, I…”

“I don’t want to see you out of bed today, okay, cariño? You need to rest.”

“Nngh…”

Otto and Severin split the foraging work, since their respective jobs were mostly planning and budgeting the winter ahead of them. Godric promised to keep a good eye on the patient, but that didn’t lessen the doctor’s worry any.

“I wonder how Barlow’s doing,” Otto murmured, probably for the umpteenth time since they’d begun their work.

Severin scrutinized his severely pricked thumb. “Children always carry around such nasty things. It’s a wonder he hasn’t caught the plague instead of a simple cold.”

Otto froze mid-pick, and Severin hurried to correct himself.

“Peace, my friend. It is just a cold, after all.

He grimaced.

“One I dearly hope he keeps to himself.”

They both continued to fill their baskets with berries, wiping the frost off their shiny, black skins. However, Otto’s mind continued to race.

I shouldn’t have left him. Godric only knows so much. What happens if his fever spikes? I’m a healer, I’m not supposed to leave the sick behind. Should I go back? I should go back. No, I promised Barlow I’d get his foraging done. But I can’t keep a promise if he’s dead. What if he’s already dead? What if Godric’s on his way right now to tell me? What if I’m already too late? How will we bury him, the ground is too hard. Otto, your friend has died and all you can think about is how to bury him. You must be the most selfish -

“Otto.”

Otto snapped back to reality to see Severin giving him a fierce side-eye.

“It’s only a cold.”

Otto took a deep breath. “Right. Gracias. I…I lost myself, didn’t I?”

The afternoon went by in a quiet fervor, both of them trying to fill their baskets before the sun went down. With Otto’s quick fingers and Severin’s thin ones, it was an easy job, and the managed to get back before it got too dark.

Otto wasn’t two steps through the door before they were at Godric’s heels, wringing their hands and stammering through the worries that had built up through the day.

“Are you sure…how…did he…should I…?”

The warrior just chuckled and put a gigantic, calloused hand on the their head.

“He’s on tha’ mend, doc, on the mend. Sneezin’ his head off, sure, but gettin’ better.”

As if on cue, two loud sneezes interrupted them from one of the bedrooms, followed by a mumbled curse and a few wet sniffles. Godric shook his head.

“Been like that all day, poor tyke. When he wasn’ dozin’ off, tha’ is.”

Severin took a few scrolls out of his dragon-scale satchel.

“I understand you have a more…pressing engagement. Why don’t I take the calculations tonight?”

But Otto was already on their way to Barlow’s bedside, medicine bag in tow. Severin only lifted his eyebrows and turned on his heel, setting up the many notes he had taken and a few quills on the oaken table.

“Besides,” he murmured to himself, “I don’t want to get near whatever affliction that sprite’s come down with.”

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

Barlow was scratching at his drooping ears, which were now covered in a red, peeling rash. Otto gently pushed his hands back under the quilt.

“I know it itches, but you need to try not to scratch.”

The healer took a small glass container out of their bag, dipping two fingers into the greenish-gray ointment inside. They began to apply the salve to Barlow’s ears, taking care not to put on too much.

“Tell me when you need a break,” Otto said.

Barlow nodded, eyes squeezed shut. After a few minutes, his nostrils started to twitch, and he held up a hand.

“G-gudda…huh…!”

He jerked forward into his knees.

“hit’CHEW! hhhit’SHEW! Uh…hut’SHIEW!”

Barlow snuffled into the quilt, and Otto handed him a tissue.

“Salud.”

“Ugh…sorry, doc…”

Otto put the cork back into the glass bottle and set it on the bedside table.

“It’s alright - most sprites have the same reflex.”

“No, I beant…for…”

Barlow bit his lip, his ears drooping even lower.

“For geddin’ sick.”

Otto put a hand on the sprite’s back.

“Oh, mijo…”

“I-I didn’d mean to,” Barlow whimpered. “I…I should’ve god by coat like you told be to…and dow w-we’re - hic - gudda starve…”

Otto hushed him, pulling Barlow into an embrace and rocking him slowly back and forth.

“We will be fine, mijo,” they whispered, their voice soothing Barlow into a sniffle. “We will forage until you are better, and not a day before. That is what friends do. They protect each other, they take care of each other, and they love each other like family. And that is how I love you. Like my family.”

Barlow hiccuped, trying to speak through his tears.

“Shhh, mijo…it’s okay…”

Otto wrapped the quilt tighter around Barlow and laid him down, pushing hair damp with both tears and sweat out of his face. The sobs quieted, then dissolved into shaky breaths. Before Otto even made it through the doorway, they could hear small, congested snores coming from the pile of blankets.

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

Scritch scritch scritch…scriiiitch…

Harried quill scratching filled the air as Otto entered the living room, putting on their tweed coat and wool gloves. They stretched out their arms.

“Buenos días!”

Godric lifted his coffee mug as a greeting, his famous half-smile dancing over his lips.

“Well, aren’tcha bright as tha’ north star this mornin’!”

Otto beamed. Barlow had slept soundly through the night, and he was still fast asleep when they had checked on him. Not a sniffle or a sneeze came from that room.

“Severin, I was thinking we could pick up acorns today,” Otto thought aloud, buttoning their coat. “There is a beautiful place in the forest…”

Silence. The quill scratching only grew more manic. Otto glanced up.

Severin was hunched over the table, writing madly on several open scrolls, only pausing to move a few beads on his abacus. Otto went back to getting ready. Sometimes it took a while for Severin to answer if he was engrossed in his calculations. He would respond when he got to a stopping point.

After about fifteen minutes of fidgeting with their scarf, though, Otto tried again.

“From what I’ve seen, we should be ready for winter in a week, maybe less. All that’s left is the dried vegetables and a few more logs for firewood.”

Again, there was no answer. But now that Otto was a little closer, they could see why.

Severin’s eyes were inflamed and painful, as were his gaunt cheeks. His long, usually well-preened hair was matted against his forehead, with stray hairs sticking up this way and that. Thin shoulder blades came together with each labored breath. Long fingers shivered around a red quill, leaving stray marks on the parchment.

“Mi sombro,” Otto breathed.

The shadowling blinked, raising his head stiffly. Pools of sweat, shaken loose by the movement, streaked down their face.

“I…couldn’t sleep,” Severin croaked. “Have I…have I been awake…?”

Godric looked up from his mug, finally noticing the sorcerer’s state. “Stars above, lad! Ya look like hell frozen over!”

The shadowling stared straight ahead, his breath coming in ragged strains.

“Could someone…please put out the fireplace…?”

Otto clucked their tongue, putting their hands on either side of Severin’s neck. His dark eyes fluttered shut, as if with great relief.

“Mm…”

“Ay, tu cabeza,” Otto cooed, putting their hand on Severin’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”

Severin finally looked down at the doctor. His tense gaze was now dazed, vulnerable - even afraid.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said again, hoarsely.

Otto rubbed their thumb on Severin’s feverish cheek. “I know, cariño. I know.”

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

It took a lot more doing to get Severin to bed than it did Barlow. Not only did he insist he was perfectly well, only warm from the unlit fireplace, but that he had seen terrifying visions outside the window.

“Their eyes, doctor…they stared into my very essence…a…a beast of some kind…we’ll be killed…”

“Shhh, my love. It’s only a nightmare from your fever. You will feel better soon.”

In the end, the only way Otto could leave the cottage was by taking a small talisman Severin had in his cloak. They weren’t superstitious, but Otto wanted to do anything they could to put the sick sorcerer at ease.

Now with one less healthy person in the group, Otto rushed to get the last of the supplies for the cold winter ahead. The first snowflakes were beginning to fall, which made finding acorns that much more difficult. Before the sun reached its peak, the ground was completely covered in a thin layer of snow. But, for once, Otto’s anxiety was an advantage.

They plowed through every task as if their life depended on it. Another of their friends falling ill had kicked their healer instinct into high gear; whenever they were fatigued or sore, all it took was a few words of the healing oath to get them going again.

“From the monsters of the cave, of the sea, of the heart,” they whispered while peeling wild wolf onions, “I shall protect and provide for those who cannot.”

As morning turned to afternoon, the light flurry of the morning became a bitter gale that howled through the trees like a hungry animal. The world was silent except for the frigid wind - all the creatures of the forest knew well enough that the winter ahead would not be kind to them.

But Otto knew nothing of this.

And so they marched forward.

It was quite past dark when Otto returned to the cottage. Much to their delight, a fire was flickering in the fireplace, and a wonderful, familiar smell lingered in the air - a mixture of tender meat and spices.

As Otto had hoped, there was a pot of stew left over the flames. The broth still bubbled with warmth, and the chicken and vegetables gave off a heavenly steam. Their stomach suddenly felt very hollow.

They hadn’t eaten all day, had they?

With raw fingers, the doctor tried their best to use the ladle, which was as big as their entire arm and weighed twice as much. Gripping the handle with both hands, they brought the brew to their lips, taking care not to burn their tongue.

A beautiful, soothing flavor poured down Otto’s throat. They leaned their head back and closed their eyes, making sure to drink up every last tasty morsel. It was a long time before the ladle was empty again.

Once they were finished, the healer felt a heaviness collect around their eyes. Finally, at long last, they could rest. The cottage was fast asleep - and now it was time for Otto to follow suit.

Sleep came upon Otto too quickly for them to retire to their own bed. Like a hound after a successful hunt, they crawled onto the sofa and curled into a ball, dead to the world before their head hit the soft cushions.

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

Otto wasn’t sure how long they slept. They remembered bits and pieces of dreams, of words, or memories - but mostly a comforting darkness that lulled them into a deep drowse.

When they finally awoke, the first thing they saw was the flitting of the fire. The flame had all but burned itself out during the night. Otto rolled over, stretching and sighing with satisfaction. That was the best they had slept in several days.

They indulged themselves in a large yawn and shifted off the sofa, cringing from cold stone against their bare feet.

The cottage was still silent with sleep - not a thing stirred but the creaks and groans of the wooden beams. A frigid wind had picked up outside, and bits of snow swirled in the air.

How cold Godric must be this morning, Otto thought as they padded towards the hallway. The warrior was always up and working by first light - quite before anyone else was awake - but came back inside to drink some hot coffee and see how the preparations were going. Godric made a strong cup of coffee. One could smell it and be ready for a new day; that’s usually all most could stand without sputtering.

Today, however, there was no earthy aroma of it brewing. All Otto could smell was a hint of the stew they had eaten the night before - the husk of a beautiful, delicious dream.

The doctor peeked his head into Barlow’s room. The sprite was laying on his stomach, eyes closed and breath soft. Though they had been feeling better for the past day or so, Barlow’s nose frequently ran away with him, and was still very pink and sensitive. His upright ear twitched ever so slightly, but there was no sign of him stirring any time soon.

Severin, on the other hand, had fared much worse. Despite the many wet rags coating almost every inch of his febrile body, his breathing was still heavy and labored, and his eyes darted under closed eyelids. Bite marks covered cracking lips. Otto made sure they made little noise as they tiptoed from the doorway. Severin needed all the rest he could get.

Otto turned from his patients, a familiar heaviness weighing upon their heart. Such misery in what was supposed to be a warm season of reaping and feasting.

Perhaps it came back with them from market, or from the many travelers that take the nearby road into town. With how hard everyone had been working, and how many nights were left unslept…

Otto massaged the bridge of their nose, dashing from one possibility to the next, feeling more and more ashamed by how little they prepared, how stupid they must have been, how utterly selfish! They had been so busy with preparations that they had barely noticed that their journeymates were wasting away!

They could have done something. This was all their fault, wasn’t it? How could they be a healer if they couldn’t even keep the ones they loved safe?

Otto was roused from their guilt by the sound of harsh coughing. They peeked their head into the past two rooms, fearing that one of them had been awakened by their footsteps. However, both of them were still out cold. Or out warm, in Severin’s case.

No, the coughing wasn’t coming from their rooms, Otto realized. It was coming from the third bedroom - the one that they and Godric shared.

The door creaked open as Otto shuffled inside, already knowing the worst was yet to come.

“Doc? Is tha’ you?”

Godric was sitting up in bed, quilt wrapped around him, his chest heaving with another hacking fit. His cheeks were flushed with effort and fever. Otto went to his bedside, their heart dropping into their stomach.

“Real nice ‘a this cold to leave the healer last, eh?” the warrior joked before laying back down with a quiet groan.

Otto pushed the hair off Godric’s neck and felt his lymph nodes, which were not only hot, but terribly swollen.

“I can chop those few pieces ‘a wood, an’ then I’ll-”

“You are not getting out of this bed,” Otto said sternly. Then, with a kinder tone, “I know you want to finish your work, but you are very sick. You shouldn’t be out in the snow.”

“But how-”

“I will take care of it, cariño. Just rest.”

Godric opened his mouth to say something else, but just coughed and covered himself up with his quilt.

“Take care of yerself, doc,” he said before Otto went to check on the others. “There isn’t anythin’ I can’t do after I’m back on m’feet.”

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

Between taking care of three sick creatures and the final preparations, Otto ran themselves ragged over the next few days. None of their friends were particularly hard to take care of - especially after Severin’s fever broke - but the heaviness of their heart continued to weigh upon them.

With no other options, they threw themselves into work.

If they chopped enough wood for an extra week, they chopped enough wood for two extra weeks. The larder was more than full. Their fingers and hands and back and everything else was sore, but they couldn’t stop for long without feeling their guilt gnaw away at them.

One frigid morning, Otto had taken to the axe, splitting wood and putting them in the shed to keep them dry. They had run out of pre-cut trunks a long time ago, so they started cutting sticks in half for kindling. Out of the corner of their eye, mid-swing, they saw a figure marching through the snow - lifting their foot high before stomping it down again with a crunch.

After a few minutes, Otto could finally see a pair of long ears fluttering in the cold wind.

“Barlow!”

The sprite grinned as he approached Otto, holding up a steaming container of something in his mittened hands.

“I got soup!” he called out, trying to move faster in the deep snow. “Godric felt a lot better today, so he wanted to try somethin’ new. It’s real good! Even Severin ate a whole bowl of it, so you know it’s gotta be great.”

Barlow sat next to the chopping block, and patted a mound of snow next to him. Otto sat down, wincing as their sore muscles twinged.

“Godric says we’re all packed up for winter,” Barlow continued as he handed Otto the food. “And we’ll even have stuff to eat in the spring, too.”

Otto didn’t answer, but tucked into the soup, not even blowing it off before putting the spoon in their mouth. Barlow thought for a little bit, then spoke again.

“Doc, Godric told me that we got more than enough food and wood to last through the winter. If you wanna come inside, we’ve got a checker game goin’…”

Otto didn’t respond, but they had started to shiver from the cold. Barlow took of his coat and draped it around Otto’s shoulders.

“C’mon, let’s get back. Everybody’s waitin’ for us.”

Barlow took Otto by the hand and pulled them up, then led them back towards the cottage. Otto trailed behind like a quivering lamb, both exhausted and numb. They couldn’t think of much else than putting one foot in front of the other.

When the pair finally got back to the cottage, a warm, cozy scene awaited them. Severin was on the couch, doing needlepoint with half-open eyes and content look on his face. Godric was above the stove, stirring a pot and putting one seasoning or another into it. The fire was blazing in a lovely orange hue that painted the scene with a beautiful glow.

While Barlow went right inside and was greeted by the others, Otto stood in the doorway, weary eyes closed, soaking up the light and warmth as much as they could.

“Doctor?”

Severin was up now, his quiet wisdom regained. Before Otto could answer, the sorcerer started to remove their soaked outer layers with quick fingers.

“If Barlow didn’t bring you here,” Severin said, “you would have worked yourself to a frozen skeleton.”

Otto suddenly jerked his head to the side.

“het’TCH! TCH! TCH’UH!”

“Many blessings, doctor.”

Severin smiled and tilted his head.

“Many, many blessings.”

Otto sniffled, rubbing their nose with stiff fingers.

“Nngh…gracias. Just a little…heh…htch’CHU!”

“Aye, I don’ like tha’ sound of that,” Godric rumbled from the kitchen, turning his head to see the sickly healer.

Otto waved their hand. “Just a li-hih-ttle sdiffle…”

“One that is long overdue, I think,” Severin said, putting the last of their wet things away.

Otto was ushered in front of the fire, still at the mercy of his nose. With each sneeze came a chorus of blessings and, if need be, another handkerchief.

“That’s a real nasty cold, huh?” Barlow commented after a particularly forceful fit. “Even I didn’t sneeze that much.”

As the day came to a close, the group all gathered on the couch, listening to the wind howling outside and treating themselves to Godric’s famous roast and sweet apple tea. Otto didn’t eat very much, but the hot tea soothed their sore throat.

“Tank you for taking such good care of be,” Otto snuffled.

Godric chuckled. “Ya care so much about us, doc. It only makes sense that we’s care an awful lot about you, ‘specially when ya aren’t feelin’ well.”

“And after you tended so well to us, may I add,” Severin said, leaning his head back.

“Yeah!” Barlow agreed, not exactly as good with words as the others, but still just as thankful.

Otto, overcome, buried their face in Godric’s side and began to cry, letting out everything that they had felt in the past few days. They wanted to stop, they wanted to explain, but it was lost in desperate sobs and hiccuping. Godric held them closer to him while the others offered quiet support until the doctor quieted.

“There ya go,” Godric said, putting a large hand on Otto’s head. “It’s gonna be alright.”

Filled with comfort and warm food, Otto quickly dozed off, and the others weren’t far behind. The only sounds were the falling of fresh snow, the crackling of the fireplace, and the snores of deep, contented sleep.

And, as winter finally settled into Harbinger Woods, they all settled down for their long winter’s rest.

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

Not only do I want to dedicate this to @perfectpaperbluebirds , who gave me the prompt, but also @sneezytomatosquish , who has been feeling emotionally and physically under the weather lately. That may have changed by the time this fic is finished, but I shall gift it to you anyway. You are one of my favorite creators, but I want to create something for you for a change. You deserve it.

Get well soon!

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not-too-many-eyes · 2 years

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Finished (the first) Ace Attorney (except for case 5 cause that's bonus content) uh thoughts (Spoilers ahead...in no particular order):

-This game was a lot harder than anticipated, like I expected from the first trial that it wasn't going to be too hard and then 7 hours later Im running in circles and frantically looking up guides for Turnabout Samurai since I am stuck and do not know what to do.

-No one told me there was going to be ghosts, your honor.

-The Puns in this game are just...I love them. When I heard about the Fey family gift I started to laugh (also on that last name, currently playin' Justice for All and Morgan Fey is givin' me some red flags purely because of her name)

-I expected from what I've seen in fanart and Phoenix's sprites that he was sort of a goof and nice to everyone and not exactly the quickest thinker but he gets the job done BUT NO THIS MAN IS FULL OF SASS! Half his lines are sassy quips laced with salt that gives me gallstones just by thinking about it. And I love it, was not expecting to enjoy Phoenix as much as I did 10/10 I love this guy.

-Maya and Phoenix's relationship is amazing, I was prepping myself at the start for some sort of romance and I just wasn't feeling it but no there relationship has siblings written all over it, its so fun to see these guys bicker and banter the entire game.

-Edgeworth went from "Rival I want to beat to the ground" to "LET ME HUG HIM YOUR HONOR" like, man I wanna hug this guy, he deserves good things, friends and a good cup of hot chocolate, 10/10 good character, sending him a pack of marshmallows.

-Unnecessary feelings, that is all I have to say about Phoenix and Edgeworth

-That and also Phoenix basically pulled a legally blond for him and considering how hard law school is I respect him a lot for getting through it. Still haven't processed that though.

-I was talking to my friend about this and we both just said that there in love

-Phoenix, I think your a smart guy, but why did you think showing the incriminating evidence to the prosecutor who will do everything to keep his record clean, the letter?

-ALSO MY GOD VON KARMA I EXPECTED SOMETHING BAD TO HAPPEN BUT A TASER??? WHAT THE HELL!

-During Turnabout Samurai when I got the photo for the Incident I wasn't sure what to do, but I had a hunch, so I saved before showing Vasquez the photo since I was 99% sure I was going to get beat up by the mafia.

I almost did but hey! At least Gumshoe was here.

-That's kinda all of the important thoughts but yea Ace Attorney is good, go play it if you have the chance.

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #phoenix wright ace attorney

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silvercrystalwhump · 3 years

Text

Little thing based on an idea for Ash

@ashintheairlikesnow owns all of these characters I just an idea one day and decided- Hey I'ma write this. Enjoy

TW: implied noncon, noncon photo taking, general bbu warning, Owen Grant exists

Vincent drums his fingers across the wood with nails bitten to near bleeding. A hard drive sits on the table in front of him, almost eating at his eyes by simply existing. It’s red, and the word Memories is written on the side. His eyes bore into the table, wanting the hard drive to combust and leave his life.

“You know I could always see what's on there?”

James, the only person other than his therapist to know about Owen, leans by an open window. The sound of Blue Jays singing outside dances through his words like background music on set. The only reason he had the displeasure of knowing about that migraine-inducing part of his life was that Vincent forgot to watch his liquor intake at an event and vomited out his entire life story to James in one night. Needless to say, he woke up the next morning with a hangover that could kill god and a very concerned James who knew too much.

Vincent shakes his head, “I am fairly certain I know what's on this, I don’t want you seeing that.”

James doesn’t respond, “I have an incinerator at home. You can just get rid of it there.”

“If it’s not I’ll be destroying something I actually like.”

Vincent did not even know why he had him come over. After he saw the handwriting he just went on autopilot. “Could you drive down about five minutes down, there’s this small coffee place that makes pecan pie flavored coffee, can you go get me some?”

“Sure,” James says, “Do you want me to go so you can do this alone and I can come back later or?”

“No, I just need you out of the house for maybe 15 minutes, it’s not like you probably have already figured out what I think is on this hard drive.”

James shrugs, “You want something to eat too?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Vincent hears James’ keys jungle quietly and the door opens. He can hear his footsteps walk down his porch. As he listens to James’ car start, Vincent puts his head in his hands. His finger knit into his hair and closes, threatening to rip the follicles right from his skull. I really don’t want to see this. He exhales as he hears the car pull out of the driveway and his gate slide closed.

Inhale, he closes his eyes and fumbles the hard drive into the laptop. Then, exhaling, he opens his eyes.

USP Pot In-Use. Transfer 486 GB of data onto this device?

Half a terabyte of data just sitting on a hard drive. A hard drive that was in the button of one of Vincent’s bags for months. Vincent starts to chew on the inside of his cheek, hands trembling near the mouse pad.

Yes.

Not enough storage for transfer. Preview file?

Yes.

A handful of files transfer to his laptop. Some files were named with dates, some with pet names, some with actual event titles but all were photos. Vincent closes his eyes and opens one simply labeled Coffee. The actual photo itself is just him sitting in one of his old dressing rooms back when working with Owen. There is a blurry spot in the upper left-hand corner of the photo. This was definitely Owen’s phone. Owen’s phone always had a blurry spot in the upper left-hand corner no matter how much Owen wiped it off.

The photo looks like it was taken at an awkward angle. Vincent pinched the bridge of his nose and mutters, “So he stalked me long before the incident, I stopped working there months before it happened.” The other handful of photos are similar; pictures were taken without Vincent noticing, usually at work. The last one was in his own house, but it was during a party he remembered that he invited Owen to.

Then a video pops up only labeled with a date.

Vincent reaches up and mutes his computer, and slowly presses play on the video. It starts with Owen muttering something before sticking his phone up and peering through a window. The video is of Vincent sleeping, and it lasts for nearly 30 minutes before the phone is dislodged, and the video finishes.

The next set of photos and videos are dated during his time with Owen.

He gets through three before rushing to the bathroom to puke.

When James gets back, Vincent has seen enough. He was right. It was Owen’s hard drive, and somehow he got a hold of it. James hands Vincent the coffee and the bag.

“I’m not gonna lie, I kinda forgot what you said about food so I just got you a scone since I was listening to the radio talk about the new federal policy on box boys.”

Vincent took a sip of the coffee and raised an eyebrow at James, “Something changed?”

“The emancipation law, it was signed by the president a week ago and the changes went into effect today,” James says as he sips his own coffee, “If you own a box boy for over a year and they meet a handful of prerequisites you can emancipate them and give them legal citizenship.”

“I honestly thought it would get shot down.”

“Well since the senator that was so against it was voted out this election no one else has objected,” James says, and he pulls up his phone, “Well the owner has to be the one to sign them for emancipation. Senator Grant was her name wasn’t it?”

Vincent takes a bite out of the scone. He swallows both the scone and a thought.

“Does it say anything about private transfer?”

“I think you just have to have their papers. Why?”

Vincent looks down at his food, and an idea pops into his head, “What’s Senator Grant doing now since she’s not in office.”

James shrugs, “Let me see if anyone said anything?” He taps on his phone, the little buzzes echo around the room like flies to trash. James pauses, “I’m pretty sure she’s just at home preparing for the next election why?”

“I think I might need you to help me make a phone call.”

Weeks later, Vincent paces, listening to James talk on the phone in the other room. He could not physically hear Owen’s voice through the phone without falling apart.

“That’s my ear,” James says sarcastically, “Do you agree with this or not?”

Silence.

Click.

James knocks on the half-open door, “You alright Vincent?”

“Are you done?” Vincent asks, tighter than a spring.

James nods, “After the screaming he agreed, do you want me to go over with the papers so you don’t have to see them?”

“Please, I’m more than likely already going to have to be on a phone call with his Mother and that's stressful enough.”

Vincent opens the door of his study and steps out, “I need a drink.”

“It's noon Vincent.”

Vincent has one hand on the liquor cabinet and chuckles dryly, “Perfect.”

‘Vincent, no.”

Making dead eye contact with James, he pulls a bottle of sweet tea vodka out of the cabinet and pours himself a glass. James sighs and shakes his head, “I thought Dr. Brycan told you not to drink.”

“He said that I need to wait until at least noon since I used to drink from dawn until dusk unless I had work, it’s 12:01.”

“Didn't you tell me that you’re probably going to get a phone call from the ex-Senator today,” James says, stepping back, “I think you want to wait at least until then so you're sober when you two talk.”

Vincent pauses with the glass halfway to his lips. He sets it down just hard enough to hear it but not hard enough to crack the crystal. Vincent grumbles, “Fine,” and walks back for his study to wait by the phone.

“You do know this is blackmail, Vincent,” Mrs. Grant grinds through the phone, “And that is illegal.”

“So is paying off someone to hide criminal charges. He either takes the deal or I take this half terabyte hard drive filled with evidence to court and get the press involved, his decision.”

“How much do you have to pay you,” she says after a moment.”

“No amount of cash will buy me over, he either takes the deal or I contact my manager.”

Silence through the phone. Vincent’s nails dig into his jeans. The woman on the other end of the line can’t see the tears pouring down Vincent’s face. One thing acting taught him was how to keep his voice steady for clarity in a microphone. The only difference here is that the microphone is in a phone rather than on a long stick.

“We’ll think about it,” she finally says.

“You have until Sunday.”

“Fine.”

Click.

Vincent holds the phone up to his ear for a second before dropping it onto the table. His head falls into his hands, and he sobs. His mind, blank yet filed with too many feelings, recoils under its own weight. Tears that had been held back for months spill across contract papers and blot through blank ink. The ink spread like blood across bed sheets.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to knock his teeth in?” James asks as he holds the contract and transfers forms in one hand and a Sprite in the other, “Because I will and want to.”

Vincent shakes his head, fingers drumming across the velvet seats of the limousine he almost forgot he had. When did I even buy this was the first thought he had when he dug through contacts. “No, just go inside, get him to fill out the forms, and come back. Then we go home and I gorge myself on M&Ms and fudge ice cream.”

James laughs, “Room numbers on the card right?”

“Yes.”

James steps out of the car. The condominium looms over the limousine, and James bites through white-knuckled rage as he steps into the lobby.

Guess who’s standing there waiting for him, Owen Grant, and his mother. James steps up to them, “Grant, correct?”

Owen looks surprised and gives James a quick not-so-subtle scan, “Are you who Vince sent, I thought he was coming?”

“Do I really need to explain why that will never happen?”

Mrs. Grant gives James a glare to rival the sun’s wrath on gingers. The demeanor shifts almost instantly to a more business appeal, “Well allow us to get this paperwork sorted out as painlessly as possible.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

How long does it take to sign papers? James thinks as he watches Owen go through the forms. These are pre-filled out records; he just needs to sign in three spots. Pen scratches against the paper, Owen’s friendly demeanor evaporated when he reached the final form.

“Why this of all things?” he grinds out.

Neither of the two people answers him. Owen finally tosses the form and an orange file in James’ direction. “All of Kauri’s paperwork; if Vince needs anything else, he’ll have to contact WRU directly.”

James scoops the papers off the table, flipping through them; he looks to make sure Owen didn’t deliberately miss any signatures. An extra envelope sits in the orange file. James pulls it free and waves it in Owen’s face.

“What’s this?”

Owen, stupidly, answers, “A goodbye letter since I just filled out a no contact agreement, I want to give my final goodbyes if you will.”

James rips open the envelope and takes out the letter but keeps in anything that may be important.

“That’s for Vincent’s eyes only!” Owen snaps.

“And that hard drive was for your eyes only wasn’t it? I got Vincent’s consent to look through these forms.”

Owen and his mother glare daggers at James as he tosses the letter back onto the table, “Goodbye.”

James can still feel Owen’s teeth grinding gaze on his back as the door closes behind him.

Jake answers the door, “Hello Vincent.”

“Is Kauri here?” Vincent asks as his fingers shift around the orange folder.

“Depends,” Jake says, leaning against the door frame, “What do you want?”

Vincent sighs, “I called Natalie yesterday and---”

“Just let him in,” Kauri’s voice echoes from inside the safe house, “Let’s just get this over with.”

Jake pierces his lips and steps out of the way. Vincent steps past him and enters the safe house. Natalie had told him to make things as quick as possible, and if Kauri told him to leave, he would. Vincent agreed. Now he simply hoped that he would be able to get this across without being told to leave.

Kauri steps around the corner, a look of tired anger sits behind his eyes.

“Kauri I’m so---”

“Skip the bullshit, Nat said this would be quick.”

Vincent nods and forces the new wave of guilt back into his stomach, “A few days ago, I was able to… convince Owen to transfer ownership of you to me. I want to ask if I can transfer you to anyone else for your own security, so you are entirely out of Owen’s grabbing range.

Kauri stands there with an expression of absolute disbelief. Then, finally, he opens his mouth to speak before stammering, “I said quick but not one sentence, elaborate.”

“Well, to put it in simply I was going through some of my old stuff from during the incident. I found a hard drive with nearly half a terabyte of… evidence that could be used against Owen,” Vincent says as his shoulder tense at memories he wishes to be buried. “A friend of mine brought up the new box boy emancipation law and after that I got an idea. This friend, who I vomited out my entire life story to black out drunk, was willing to help be the liaison between Owen and me. After a telephone call between Mrs. Grant and I, we got the papers signed and so now I have all of your paperwork under my name.”

“Okay?” Kauri says with disbelief still in his tone in tiny blips, “Then why are you talking to me, just leave me alone and I won’t have to worry about Owen.”

Vincent chews at the inside of his cheek, “Here’s the thing, what I did is, in the eyes of the law, black mail. While he could be charged with the same thing, if he took me to court one of the first assets taken for compensation are box boys. So, you could stay under my name but I don’t trust that he won’t try to get you back by either suing or doing something. My question now is, is there someone who you trust enough for me to transfer your ownership form to.”

Kauri pauses. The gears shift in his head for a moment before he looks past Vincent and back at Jake. The widest shit-eating grin nearly splits Kauri’s face in half. He looks over Vincent’s shoulder and laughs, “Hey Jake, want your own Romantic?”

Vincent looks over his shoulder and sees a very exasperated, tired, and just downright flustered Jake.

“I- um- Kauri- I- please don’t wrd it like that, that makes me sound terrible.”

“And.”

“I- mean in order to keep Owen away from you then yes I will but please don’t,” Jake stampers, “I don’t and won’t own you.”

Kauri pushes past Vincent and boops Jake on the nose, “Congrats you get your own boxie.”

“Kauri, please.”

Vincent clears his throat and interrupts, “While I am used to being third wheel um I know you all want me out of your hair so I have the forms with me and after they are signed I will do the heavy lifting with WRU.”

After a second, Kauri chuckles before walking away. Jake just watches as he leaves, a sigh escaping his lips, “He is never going to let me live that down.”

“If you don’t want to-”

“No no,” Jake says, “I will, he's just teasing. What do I have to sign?”

#owen grant should be castrated #bbu #ash is cruel to the boys #kauri #jake #vincent shield #blackmail #tw: implied noncon #tw: noncon phototaking #whump #box boy #box boy universe

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oldguardhc · 3 years

Text

Old Guard hc #101

Summary: Part 2 of the Decennial Awards (Part 1)

“Our next category is the Weirdest Sleeping Spot! As the title suggests, this category is based on the weirdest spot one has been caught sleeping.” Joe turns on the TV behind him and starts the slideshow of them all snoozing in various spots and positions. “We require plenty of rest to remain youthful. This, unfortunately, means we have to catch our Z’s in some unconventional places.”

“When did you take all these pictures?” Booker asks, leaning forward on the couch. Joe glances back and sees a picture of Booker asleep on top of a fridge. The man wasn’t even curled up on top like one would assume. No, he was half-draped over the top, head and arms hanging on the other side, looking as close to dead one can be while still alive. He looked like a poor Halloween decoration. “I don’t even remember that.”

“That’s because you’re senile,” Joe retorts and immediately wishes he can take it back. Three unimpressed faces stare back at him from the couches and Joe knows that this is going to be counted against him. Dammit. He wants to win the best host at the end of the century. Joe plasters on a winning smile. “I apologize; that comment should have been saved for after the show. All of the pictures were taken some time in the last 10 years; anything before was disqualified. Now, our first nominee, Nicolò, fell asleep in-“

Booker stands up and turns around to look at Andy and Nicky. He gestures wildly at them, some of his drink sloshing onto the floor and all over his hand. Booker slurps up what he can on his hand before saying, “Are we not going to talk about how Joe’s been taking pictures of us sleeping? For more than a decade?”

Andy lobs a peanut at him. “Sit down!” Booker catches the peanut and pops it into his mouth. For a second, Joe hopes he chokes on it.

When it’s clear that he will not, Joe says, “No, we are not. Please take a seat, sir.”

Booker whirls around, spilling more of his drink. “This is an invasion of privacy!”

“You were in a public area.”

“Technically-“

“If you have to start with technically, you’re wrong,” Joe sighs, motioning to the couch more insistently. He feels like he has just finished 8 hours of customer support and was told by his manager to cover for the coworker they’re currently sleeping with. Andy snags the back of Booker’s pants and whatever was left in Booker’s cup is now sitting on the carpet. Wonderful. “As I was saying, Nicolò, over here, fell asleep on a crane that was on top of a 500m building. He had a couple of hours to kill until his target arrived and rather than playing on his phone like any other sane person, he decided to take a nap.” Everyone turns to look at Nicky.

“I still don’t see the issue here. I even set an alarm for an hour before the scheduled arrival,” Nicky says and Andy squints at him.

“The construction workers were using the crane. It was literally spinning the entire day,” Booker says and Joe nods. Some carousels spin less than that crane.

“You cost me 500 euros,” Andy adds with a scowl. “It was supposed to be an easy win. You puked after the teacups.”

Nicky gapes at her. “That doesn’t count! Booker made me eat 5 bananas and drink 2 cans of sprite!”

“It was a projectile. You could calculate the angle of it.” You could. It was absolutely disgusting. Joe had made sure to slip the janitor an extra hundred as he tended to his violently sick husband.

Knowing that this will lead to a full-blown argument, Joe quickly interjects, “Now Sebastien, he fell asleep in the trunk of the wrong car and ended up giving a poor old lady quite the scare. Later, I would like to discuss Sebastien’s concerning taste for younger women.”

“Yeah, she was less than half your age. That’s gross, Book,” Andy teases.

“Preying on the young and vulnerable?” Nicky tuts. “Where're your morals?”

“Fuck you guys,” Booker groans.

“I like older men,” Nicky says. “Thank you, though.”

With a smirk, Joe continues. “Next is Andromache, who fell asleep on top of a moving train and managed to stay on it the entire duration of her nap. In fact, she did not even sway an inch; not even when the train was climbing the side of a mountain.”

“Less stuffy up there,” Andy says, taking a sip of her drink.

“I believe you.”

“Plenty of space.”

“No one’s going to join you, Andy,” Booker groans, leaning back on the couch. “It’s fucking cold up there.”

Nicky tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing. “That’s-,” Joe shares a look of incredulity with his husband and slowly shakes his head. It’s probably best that they leave this one alone for a couple of centuries.

“For our last nominee, Yusuf managed to find a yak and fall asleep on its back.”

“You conveniently left out the part where it woke up startled and kicked you 20 feet away.”

Joe gives him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, Sebastien. As always, your contribution is entirely unwanted.” Joe pulls the second envelope out. “Now for our winner,” he opens it and snorts as he reads the card. “Sebastien! Congratulations! You won this decade’s weirdest sleeping spot.”

Booker slowly gets off the couch, like he expects Joe to say ‘Psych!’ and call out somebody else’s name. Andy decides he’s moving too slow and slaps him on the ass.

“Here you go,” Joe hands him the prize when he’s a foot away and Booker frowns.

“A sleeping mask from Delta Airlines?” It’s folded in half and barely thicker than a paper towel.

“To make your sleep more pleasurable.”

“There’s a better one in the bathroom upstairs.”

“Don’t be ungrateful, it’s rude.” Did no one teach their kids manners these days? “What do you have to say?”

Booker shrugs and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Margaret. Both cars were extremely similar.” It’s not a bad apology. Joe has definitely heard worse.

“One was a minivan, the other was a hummer, you dumbass!” Andy heckles. Sadly, she’s not lying.

“Looks the same when you’re drunk and have your eyes 90% closed.”

“Alright, thank you, Sebastien,” Joe nudges him back to his seat. “Continuing with the weirdest theme, our next category is Weirdest Death.”

Andy and Nicky groan, Booker smirks.

“Just give it to Booker already,” Andy says. “Fucker always dies in the weirdest manners.”

“He’s won every single time since he joined us,” Nicky adds, waving a dismissive hand. “Give him his prize and let him do his speech.”

“So you guys can count me off later? No way!” Joe’s not a fool. This is their test. “Unlike our previous categories, this nominee will cover both Nicolò and Yusuf. Our dearest Nicolò and Yusuf were having a lovely picnic in the middle of the safari. They were enjoying a nice Pinot Noir with some young cantal cheese when they were rudely trampled by a stampede of elephants. ”

“Picnic,” Joe really wants to wipe that stupid smirk off of Booker’s face. Nicky, his dearest heart, reaches over to smack the bane of Joe’s existence over the back of his head. It’s a satisfying thunk too. “Ow! I only have one brain, Nicky, Jesus!”

“More like one brain cell,” Nicky responds. Joe almost bends down onto one knee right there.

No. He has a plan. He’s not going to ruin it because he’s too impatient.

Joe gestures to Andy, “Andromache, was taking a stroll in one of Colorado’s mountains when she accidentally walked into a cult’s trap. After being shot with an elephant tranquilizer, she woke up tied to a tree and was shot with a special marijuana filled bullet as a sacrifice to their Marijuana god.”

“Bullets filled with marijuana,” Booker says, impressed. “If I weren't here, that’d surely be the winner.”

“I know,” Andy grumbles, taking an angry swig of her drink.

“For our reigning titleholder, Sebastien continued to drink an excessive amount of soda, despite everyone telling him that there were not going to be any bathrooms for another hour. Our stubborn Sebastien, of course, ignored us and after drinking 64oz of Pepsi, he had to pee. So in the pouring rain, Andy pulled over. Sebastien sprinted to the treeline and as he began to relieve himself, Zeus struck our poor nominee. He died in his puddle of pee.”

Nicky shakes his head, looking at Booker with a little bit of awe. “How do these things keep on happening to you?”

“The comedic gods really like me.” Something out there really likes him, that’s for sure.

Joe pulls out the correct envelope and is completely unsurprised with what he reads. “Our winner is, of course, Sebastien! Congratulations!” Joe picks up the prize and holds it out; Booker takes it with a grin.

“A voodoo doll of myself?” The doll has a denim jacket and the same haircut Booker has been sporting for the last six years. Booker pokes the doll’s eyes and squishes its plump body. “I’m keeping this.”

“And not the other prizes?”

“This one is custom made; it gets custom treatment.” He has a point. “As for my speech, I would like to thank myself, the greatest and worst person to exist.”

Joe shares another look with his husband. Andy, on the other hand, says, “The prize should’ve been therapy.”

“Okay,” Joe says after an awkward moment of silence. “Thank you for your speech; please return to your seat so we can continue.”

#the old guard #joe x nicky #sebastien le livre #andromache the scythian #tog crack #hc #i'm thinking 3 more parts?#since there's 6 more categories

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