#otto gets stuck with him by the rule of you’re both the same thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ivystjamess · 3 years

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𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐈 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐎𝐖𝐍

WHO: @jazziejazxo and ivy st.james. ft mentions of: davis, julien, joey, kenna, noah, sammy, otto, lemon, ruby, eli, and winnie. WHEN: fri night. 2/5. WHERE: north hills mall. WHAT: bumping into each other at the mall, jaz and ivy have a heated exchange turned dream sequence of p!nk’s ‘cuz i can leading up to new direction’s regionals competition.

IVY LIKED TO THINK SHE HAD THREE HOMES. her actual one, whatever stage she be performing on (whether that be field or actual stage) and north hills mall. since entering her teenage years, she’d spent about as much time at the mall as she did doing her morning and nightly routines. so naturally, she knew the busy and the less busy times to go on her bi-weekly shopping sprees. thursday night was always pretty mild, and ivy liked it that way. she didn’t want to deal with a bunch of other people while shopping, who would? as she stepped onto the escalator to head down to the main floor, she caught the unmistakable gaze of jaz evans standing by the fountain and glaring daggers up at her. at this realization, ivy expedited her time on the escalator by walking down to give jaz a piece of her mind.

jaz’s intentions weren’t malicious at first. part of jaz’s goal for this semester was to refocus on the things that really matter. She was helping ND win regionals, being the best possible friend/sister/daughter, and checking drama at the door. after spending an entire weekend in bed and in constant worry that her voice wouldn’t recover from her random weekend sickness, jaz was more focused on these goals than ever. she was at the mall searching for the perfect gift to thank her mom for both taking care of her all weekend and helping her prep vocally for her big competition debut. but when she spotted ivy, all of that focus went out of the window. suddenly she was feeling just as insecure as she did when vocal adrenaline stormed the auditorium. her gaze didn’t waver even as ivy picked up speed. who did she think she was?

stepping up to the other girl, ivy shrugged her purse up on to her shoulder and flashed the fakest of smiles, “jaz so funny to see you here!” she started mild before concluding with a blunt, “i like couldn’t help but notice that look you were giving me.” a signature ivy st.james condescending pout graced her lips before she continued, “all shook up from the fundraiser? or was it our performance last week?” she asked with the tilt of her head. relations between ivy and jaz hadn’t always been so tense, in fact, they had a pretty healthy relationship prior to the blow up in the green room at sectionals. jaz always encouraged ivy to maybe be a little kinder, and ivy encouraged jaz to trust her talent a little more. that was all well and good until jaz had made it personal. taking ivy’s spot as captain? doing that duet with julien on the ski trip? ivy figured maybe jaz was a little ruthless with all this effort clearly being put into making her angry or jealous and arguing with her. with all this pent up frustration toward her former friend, ivy had no problem letting venom flow off her tongue unrestrained. “well, i have to get going! good luck with like, buying new directions’ cheap-o costumes or whatever you’re doing here. hopefully you find something that can hide the inevitably horrible choreography you’re going to be doing tomorrow. bye!” and with that, ivy turned her back, ready to walk away.

in a few blunt and nasty words, ivy had somehow confirmed all of the misconceptions jaz had made about this girl. somehow this new ivy was so bitter about not getting her way at sectionals that she literally transferred schools to create a “aha i told you so” moment. jaz was suddenly extremely angry at ivy, more than just disappointed. could she have been the reason davis just stopped talking to her out of the blue? jaz’s mouth moved faster than her brain could process. “honestly, whatever, ivy. just storm out or something…it’s the only thing you’re good at.” jaz spoke, venom dripping off of her words. she rolled her eyes and turned around, mumbling. “how were we even friends?”

wondering if maybe she had been a little too harsh, ivy froze in her place. obviously she didn’t want things to be this way. but ivy made her bed and had no problem laying in it. sure, there were surges where she missed the team, or the little moments like going to the pumpkin patch with jaz. it was the same as she got her surges of missing julien. but those days were over and gone. now? they were at war.

both still heated from the exchange, their backs still turned, suddenly rock music began sounding throughout the mall as the pair aggressively whipped around to face each other. speaking over the music, jaz began ‘Rock and Roll, Rock! And I drink more than you! And party harder than you do! And my car's faster than yours too!’ making disgusted vocalizations at each other complete with lots of eye rolls and aggressive expressions, ivy pushed past jaz and strutted to the bathroom as she sang ‘P.I.N.K. P.I.M.P I'm back again I know y'all missed me.’

as the bathroom door swung open, ivy was suddenly in a locker room, donning work out gear. in the locker room, ivy continued to sing as she sat down on a bench and began taping up her hands, ‘Yeah I talk shit just deal with it.’ hands now taped, ivy continued to sing hostilely, slamming locker doors shut as she passed, the final one slamming shut as she belted, ‘You can try and try you can't be me!’

at the chorus, ivy and jaz both sounded as they popped up in different locations. ivy could be seen doing a variety of activities such as jumping rope, doing laps around an empty boxing gym characterized by black and blue ropes and banners, as well as sit ups all while davis lingered in the background either timing her, egging her on, or sitting on her feet as she did her sit ups. jaz, on the otherhand, remained in a gym decorated similarly to the other one, but with red and white adornments. in work out gear similar to ivy’s jaz also did a number of training activities; push ups, speed punching a punching bag, and running up and down the stands while julien stood by encouragingly as her coach. as this training went on they sang in perfect harmony, “but it's alright, I don't give a damn, I don't play your rules, I make my own, tonight I'll do what I want 'Cause I can”

when the chorus came to an end, the focus was pulled to jaz coming up from a push up and looking directly forward and singing, “I know I'm rare, you stop and stare, You think I care, I don't You talk real loud, But you ain't saying nothing cool” rising to her feet, she passed julien and gave him a high five as she moved to grab a water bottle and continued singing. glistening with sweat and aggression in her eyes, she arrived to the end of her verse and dramatically dumped the contents of her water bottle over her head as she belted out, ‘You can try and try you can't be me!’

moving into the second chorus, ivy and jaz were suddenly in a filled arena full of cheering fans. in ivy’s corner, eli, winnie, kenna, and sammy could be spotted sporting their TEAM IVY shirts in the front row, while in jaz’s corner noah, otto, lemon, and ruby could be spotted wearing their TEAM JAZ shirts as they cheered for the impending match. cutting between ivy and jaz as they entered with davis and julien from their tunnels, their voices again joined as they eyed each other from across the arena and sang their angst out.

jaz hopped into the actual arena first where joey stood center in a referee’s shirt, but ivy was close behind. they were both followed by their respective coaches. as the bridge arrived, joey called the competitors to the middle of the ring. ivy and jaz shrugged off their blue and red robes and made their way to the center of the ring. while joey soundlessly laid out the rules of the boxing match, ivy and jaz’s eyes narrowed as they stared each other down. jaz began singing ‘yeah I'm super thick, people say I'm much too chick’ now verbally competing, ivy tauntingly cut her off, ‘come and kiss the ring, you just might learn a couple things.’ they were equally matched though as jaz now jumped in with ‘i'm tryin' to school ya dogs--’ but was abruptly stopped by joey blowing his whistle (which sounded a lot like ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff) and signaling their conduct was disorderly. paying no mind to the ref, ivy got right back in on the action with ‘i'm your worst nightmare.’ followed by a ‘bring it we can take it there’ from jaz, then concluded with ivy belting ‘what are you scared?’ over jaz singing the chorus.

with the climax of the song behind them, the last two sets of the chorus were filled with cut scenes of ivy and jaz leaning up against the ropes and vocalizing individually, circling each other in the rink ready to strike, and retreating to their corners to talk to their coaches. occasionally, a fan or two got rowdy enough in the crowd that it cut to their equally as energized antics, but when all was said and done, ivy and jaz stood in front of the north hills mall fountain wearing their normal clothes, backs facing each other, and absolutely silent other than the water bubbling beside them.

eventually both seem to come to the conclusion, it wasn’t worth engaging with one another. it would only be trouble, and a stinging reminder of friendship lost. it was easier to say nothing at all. so ivy stuck her chin up in the air, and jaz pushed some hair behind her ears, and they carried on their separate ways.

THE END.

#self para #jaz #davis #julien #joey #kenna #noah #sammy #otto #lemon #ruby #eli #winnie #i don't play your rules i make my own

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elizabethemerald · 5 years

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Jim is Honest AU, Lie 5

Jim Lake Jr lies again and again to his loved ones. What if instead, he told the truth? How would that affect his relationships, and story of Trollhunters? Let’s look at all the major lies and omissions Jim made and let’s turn them on their head. This time Let’s say Jim is Honest.

Strickler struggles with finding some way to turn Jim’s status as the Trollhunter to his advantage. However his conscious wars within him. What good would any advantage be if Gunmar is unleashed upon the world? What if there were a second option?

The final bell had rung for the day. Mr. Strickler sat in his office. They were getting closer and closer to their goal. The biggest obstacle was...Jim Lake. So far Strickler had managed to keep Bular in the dark about exactly how much he knew about the boy Trollhunter. He was starting to get worried that his fellow changelings might be more aware than they let on, but so far if they knew none had made a move against him.

Strickler was trying to allow Jim to be killed without his direct intervention one way or the other. Jim had come to him, made himself vulnerable in asking for help. The last thing Strickler wanted was to betray that fragile trust. That thought in itself gave the changeling pause. Betrayal was second nature to him, it came to him as easy as breathing. Why should this boy be any different? Why should this boy stay his hand? Was there something in the innocence that made him pause? Or was it the boy’s mother? Dr. Lake certainly had a way about her that intrigued him.

He looked closely at his pen as he thought. Truly the problem lay in his own selfish nature. What would killing the boy himself do? He could be the greatest of the changelings, which he already was. But to Bular and Gunmar he would be the greatest of their dogs, maybe the last to be killed and eaten, but that fate still only felt like a matter of time. He was sure he could manipulate Jim into opening Killahead Bridge willingly, but again what would that accomplish? Jim would either live the rest of his life as much a slave as the changelings or be the first human killed and eaten by Gunmar. Strickler doubted the Skullcrusher would care what his personal effort had been in convincing the boy. If only there was some way to turn the Trollhunter to his advantage.

Almost as if his thought has summoned him, there was knock at his office door. Jim stuck his head in. Strickler found a genuine smile crossing his face, one mixed with relief that he wasn’t currently wearing his armor.

“Mr. Strickler, do you have moment to talk about the chess club?” Jim asked.

“For you my boy? Always, please come in.”

Strickler watched as Jim came in and sat down, not that surprising but the boy seemed stressed.

“As glad as I am to see you, and not stuck in your armor, I confess I’m surprised to hear from you today. Karl told me that you had to give your spanish presentation today via Toby’s laptop. He said you were too sick to come in person.”

Strickler took a sip of his tea, that wasn’t all Uhl had said about the strange presentation in the staff lounge over terrible coffee, but Strickler was able to way lay any suspicions with a few small jokes then changed the subject. Jim rubbed his hand on the back of his head.

“Yeah, I had bad run in with a fergulator, and the effects hadn’t worn off yet.”

Strickler immediately choked on his tea. “A run in with a what?”

“A fergulator. It shrinks stuff down, and apparently takes more than a single night to sleep off the effects.”

What on earth could Blinkous be thinking using a fergulator on a living being? Much less a human boy? It could have killed him, or just kept him pint sized forever. The Janus Order obviously had a few fergulators at their own disposale, but he would never put a changeling in the device. Mostly they used them to shrink large pieces of the Bridge down to sneak across state lines. He carefully wiped the tea he spilled on himself up.

“I’m glad you’re back to your regular size than. Now was this what you wanted to discuss, or…?”

“Well, Blinky’s been training me on the three rules of being a Trollhunter. And I’m a little concerned.”

Strickler sat forward interested. He couldn’t say he was surprised to find out the trolls had three rules for Trollhunting, especially considering his own three rules for being a changeling. How exactly the Trollhunters were trained would be incredibly useful information.

“And what are these three rules?” He asked, a calm mask carefully in place.

“The first one is the easiest!” Jim immediately took on Blinky’s diction, Strickler almost smirked at how accurate it was. “Rule Number one, Always be afraid.”

“Well that seems to make sense. Fear makes you aware, heightens your senses.” Strickler clicked his pen open then closed.

“That’s exactly what Blinky said!” Strickler immediately wished he could take his words back, just on the principle of agreeing with Blinkous Galadrigal.

“Mm. And what is rule number two?”

“See this is the rule that I have a problem with.” Jim hesitated, his hand again rubbing the back of his head. “Rule number two is Always finish the fight.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I’m supposed to kill my opponent.” Jim hung his head. “How am I supposed to do that? I don’t even like killing spiders in my house! I’ve called Toby over to deal with some of them. How am I supposed to kill someone?”

Strickler thought about that. If this were one of his changeling underlings he would say better to get over this feeling soon or they would be replaced. Changelings were assassins as well as spies. His own first kill had been his own human parents, and he had been out of the fetch for less time than Jim had been alive. Not that he really mourned his parents, they were bastards from day one.

“Like today, I shrunk down yesterday in the fergulator to get a gnome out of a hole, it had stolen my amulet. I managed to capture it alive, and Blinky was insistent that I kill it.” Strickler struggled not to laugh at the idea of a gnome succeeding where changelings had failed for centuries, removing the amulet from the Trollhunter. “Toby hid him in a dollhouse. And it seems like the little guy just wanted a place for his own. He didn’t want to fight us.”

That caught Strickler’s attention. Any troll who had been called to bear the mantle of Trollhunter would have killed the gnome without question. The creatures are notorious pests, rated below spiders and rats to most of troll kind, only slightly above venomous giant toads. But Jim didn’t have any of the biases other trolls had. Could that mean perhaps… Strickler cleared his throat. He had to tread carefully here.

“I have done a small amount of research on legends surrounding trolls since you brought their existence to my awareness. Are you perhaps familiar with the legends of changelings?”

Jim seemed a little confused by the change in topic, but shook his head.

“Your trainer, Blinky you said his name was?” A nod of his head. “Has Blinky mentioned changelings at all?” A shake of his head. Walter took a shallow breath. A blank slate. No opinions on changelings.

“According to legends changelings were the young of trolls, stolen away, then subjected to dark magics. Those magics bound them with a human infant, a familiar. The changeling takes the infant’s place in our world.” Strickler carefully studied Jim’s expression as he talked. The boy had nothing but compassion on his face, none of the disdain or disgust that a troll might have. “The changelings are forced to walk the line between the human and troll worlds. Forever outcast from both because of the magic that was done to them.”

“That’s...awful.” Jim said, his expression downcast.

“Yes and the legends and stories, though shrouded and changed by time and retelling seem to say that because of this the changelings are forced to serve the same cruel masters that stole them away when they were young. They are never able to be fully part of either society.” Strickler watched as Jim hung his head. “Now Jim you are human, you weren’t raised in the world of trolls. You may not have the same views as they have about things.”

“I presume you spared the life of this gnome you spoke of?” He waited for Jim’s nod, then continued. “And I’m sure you’ve found yourself capable of living along side this gnome, despite Blinky’s feelings on the matter?”

“Well he’s living with Toby not me, but yeah.”

“Troll society seems to be a place where to them finishing a fight makes sense. But if you have the chance to offer a creature a hand up in this world, be they troll or gnome or changeling, perhaps you have the opportunity to change things, to cross lines that have existed for millennia. When you get the chance, will you offer your hand?”

Strickler put out his hand. Jim looked at it, and the changeling could see the boy’s mind racing, before he proudly shook the hand. The simple handshake felt...monumentous. It didn’t last long however. After a mere second Jim’s phone rang. He let go of Strickler’s hand and answered his phone.

“Uh yeah I’ll be home soon. Bye mom!” Jim was soon saying grabbing his bag. “Thanks so much Mr. Strickler. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

With that the boy ran out the door. Strickler sat back for a second, a smug grin on his face. The seed had been planted. He would need to reach out to some of his compatriots in the Order. Some who shared his views about Bular’s heel grinding down on their necks. Otto maybe? No he was too much of a boot licker. Nomura always had a problem with authority. Maybe he could have her reach out, approach the Trollhunter when he was alone, to extend a hand as it were.

As Strickler thought and planned, he realized he never did find out what Rule number three was. Too late now, he doubted it would be a problem for him though.

Lie 1, Lie 2, Lie 3, Lie 4

#tales of arcadia #Trollhunters #jim lake junior #walter strickler #jim is honest au #writing emerald #strickler fights first for himself #second for his changeling brethren #third for the two Lakes #maybe he can fight for all three with one clever move

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boysdontcryblood · 5 years

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Chapter Three

[warnings for reform school setting, authority figures abusing their power, non-corporal punishment; this chapter has quite a lot of verbal abuse]

. + . + . + . + . + . + .

Ben paused halfway through writing I will not trespass. for probably the hundredth time. Would they even notice if he wrote something just a bit different? He drew a tiny frowny face in the place of the O and went on with writing more repetitions of the line. The little rebellion almost made him smile, but the reality of the pointless punishment was impossible to ignore.

As if writing this shit down was supposed to force them to follow the rules.

Ben sighed and looked up at the front of the room, where Mrs. Graves was staring straight at him with her eyes narrowed.

“Sit up straight, Benjamin,” she snapped.

“Yes ma’am,” he muttered and adjusted his posture. Slightly. The seat was uncomfortable no matter what he did. Like hell was he going to sit with his back straight in it. He went back to writing.

The room was quiet save for the scratching of their pencils on paper and the ticking of the clock on the wall. Awsten and Otto weren’t there; probably in another room dealing with Old Bastard Steele. Or making Steele deal with them.

Time crawled on. Ben hid a couple more little faces in the lines. His hand was aching and he wanted to stop, but one glance at Patty in his peripheral vision made him keep going.

Better to get this over with.

There was a rustling noise behind him, where Ali was sitting. Without thinking, Ben started to turn his head to look.

“Face the front!” Mrs. Graves snapped.

Ben slumped back into his original position in the stiff-backed chair. Whatever.

“Alistair, you aren’t done yet,” Mrs. Graves said, walking down the aisle between the rows of empty desks. Ben noticed Patty tensing up as she passed between them. Her heels clicked on the floor with each step she took, forceful and harsh. “Resume your task immediately.”

“Sorry,” Ali said in a low voice behind Ben. The rustling noise resumed for a second. “It’s cold.”

“Deal with it.”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry.”

“And sit up straight, Benjamin,” she added as the sound of her heels came back towards Ben. “Unless you’d like to write out more lines?”

Ben didn’t reply, but he reluctantly sat up again. He was already looking forward to getting back to his and Patty’s dorm room later so he could lie down on his mattress, however shitty it was. He made a tiny face with little Xs for eyes in the next repetition of the stupid sentence he wrote.

Once they were done, Mrs. Graves took the papers from them. Ben silently dared her to look more closely at his to find the plethora of tiny faces sticking their tongues out. But she was only looking at the top one: Ali’s.

“Report to Sergeant Steele in Room 129,” she said, dropping the papers on the desk behind her. “He’ll handle the rest of your remedial study.”

Fuck. Ben couldn’t hold back the grimace at that. And unfortunately Mrs. Graves was only a few feet away from him.

“Not looking forward to it, are we, Benjamin?” she said, her lips curling in a rather cruel smirk.

“No. Ma’am.”

“Then I suggest you not go slinking around areas of the school that are off limits to students,” she said. “Obey the rules, and your time here will be more pleasant. That goes for all three of you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Patty said.

Ben left the room before he could do anything else to piss off the evil old bat. Once he, Patty, and Ali were a safe enough distance away, he groaned loudly.

“That wasn’t great,” he said. “I’m sorry, we should have left that room sooner—”

“It’s not your fault,” Patty said. “You had no way of knowing. And I was the one who screamed.”

“You had good reason for that,” Ali muttered.

Ben opened his mouth to argue— whatever, the room was spooky inside, but literally every room in this fucked up school was creepy— but he shut his mouth, remembering the genuine panic on Patty’s face. Seeing that had been enough to freak Ben out back in the room, even if he had no idea what could have caused such a reaction.

Maybe one of the rat skeletons?

They arrived at Room 129 and Ben’s stomach lurched with dread. Yeah, it was better to get this over with, but… god, it was going to suck. Whatever the old ex-military bastard was going to make them do today. The not knowing made it even worse.

“It’ll be alright,” Patty said in a soft whisper.

Ben turned to look at him. Patty was smiling, and he reached out to grasp both Ben and Ali’s hands, squeezing them for a moment. Ben felt the fear and tension in his chest ease up.

It would be alright. They’d be together at least.

Patty let go of their hands and strode forwards to open the door. Ben wanted to chase after the lost touch, but before he could move, the door was open.

“You again,” Sergeant Steele said.

He was standing at the far end of the room in front of the huge blackboard with his intimidating message of the day on it.

PAIN IS THE GREATEST TEACHER.

Otto, Awsten, and three other boys were all standing in a lineup in the middle of the room. There were no desks or chairs anywhere. The walls were decorated with pictures of muscled soldiers in uniform, more quotes about masculinity and discipline, and thinly veiled military propaganda. Ben could barely hide his disgust at it all.

He hated this room. He hated Sergeant Steele. He hated the school that allowed— and encouraged— this shit to happen. All in the name of “fixing troubled boys” like him. Yeah right.

Ben dragged himself into place in the line. Steele walked down the line, pausing to glare and taunt each one of them in turn. Starting with the boys Ben wasn’t familiar with and working his way down to Ben, Patty, and Ali’s end.

“You think something’s funny, Otto? We’ll see if you’re still smiling like that in two hours.”

Fuck. Two hours?? Ben tried not to look too nervous as Steele drew closer.

“Excited about spending more time with your partner in crime here?” he said, eyeing Awsten. “Guess again. Otto, move to the end of the line.”

Otto moved, but he did so in an obnoxiously slow manner. Probably to piss Steele off.

“Still won’t cut your damn hair, Ben?” he said when he stopped in front of Ben. “Jesus, you look like a fucking girl.”

Ben forced himself to remain quiet, like everyone else had. The second time he ended up here with Awsten, the other boy had made the mistake of talking back to Steele. It was about something completely pointless, about how Awsten didn’t like the all-black uniform.

It had not ended well for them that day. Three hours of mowing and raking and pulling thorny weeds and hauling old rotting logs at the edge of the school property.

Steele shook his head in disgust. “No, you’re too ugly to be a girl.” He moved on to Patty next.

“What, you gonna cry, Patrick?”

Ben’s hands clenched into fists. To his right, Awsten very obviously turned his head towards Steele’s back. He stuck out his tongue at Steele and waved his middle finger at him. Idiot.

“Boys don’t cry. Guess I got it wrong, you’re the biggest girl here, not Goldilocks over there.”

Ben’s fists shook. It was getting difficult to remind himself why he shouldn’t get out of line to punch Steele. But one look at the man did the job: the guy would crush him. And he’d be delighted at the opportunity to do so in front of the rest of the boys.

Ben tried to force his anger down. He tried to just let things happen around him. This would all be over soon. They’d get through this in two hours— hopefully less— and they’d all gather in his and Patty’s dorm after this to… recover. Yeah.

Steele moved on to Ali.

Steele went to the front of the room to deliver a harsh speech about the necessity of discipline. Ben didn’t listen to a word of it.

Finally, Steele revealed that the punishing task that day would be cleaning the school’s tall narrow windows. He took them all to a closet with supplies and made sure that Awsten and Otto were as far as possible from each other the whole time. They moved from room to room, hallway to hallway in relative silence, apart from Steele barking his instructions and criticisms of their work.

Ben tried to stick close to Patty, but he didn’t get a chance to say a word with Steele hovering around.

After two hours, Ben’s knuckles were painfully red and on the verge of cracking and bleeding. Ali and Patty were in the same shape. They returned to the dorm hallways without a word between the three of them.

It was miserable. And the miserable feeling persisted when Ali and Patty both sat down on Patty’s bed.

But when Ben pulled out a jar of healing hand cream, both Ali and Patty’s faces broke into matching smiles, and Ben felt the warm spark of hope burning in his chest again.

#stigmata au #boys don't cry blood #chapters #mani's turn

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whizzersalive-blog · 7 years

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shiver shiver

loosely based on shiver shiver by walk the moon not edited of course because when will i ever edit them. (also on ao3)

Hanschen has a plan to get rid if his feelings. (tw for drug and alcohol use)

Hanschen watches as Ernst quietly plays with the cross engraved on his ring. The other boy is sitting on the couch as the rest of them are in a circle passing around a joint. Hans passes every time, instead just sipping on his beer

“Hey stop playing with your purity ring and join in,” Moritz says plopping down next to Ernst.

“It’s not a purity ring,” the tall boy scoffs. Moritz rolls his eyes before dragging Ernst off the couch to join them all on the floor. He softly lands next to Hanschen.

“We’re going to play 7 minutes in heaven,” Melchior winks from beside him.

“Hey! Everyone come sit here! We’re playing 7 minutes in heaven!” Moritz yells.

All their friends come and form a new sitting circle. Hanschen admires Ernsts profile.

“A surprise that such a dedicated Catholic would participate in such a raunchy game,” he says jokingly. The brunette rolls his eyes.

“Why aren’t you drunk yet?” he says, switching the conversation. Hanschen raises his eyebrow.

“Trying to take advantage of me Robel?” he asks with a smirk.

“Not in the slightest. Just that you’re usually hammered by 2 hours in but you just had your first shot a few minutes ago,” Ernst comments, suppressing a blush. Hans shrugs as Melchior begins to speak again. In reality, he had better plans for the night.

“Everyone knows the rules, 7 minutes in this closet,” he points behind himself, “no phones, no cop outs, and it's all random. Your names have been put into a generator on my phone!”

“First ones up, Otto and Thea!” Moritz announces. Their little circle being to ooh as they get up and enter the closet. The timer starts.

“So is this strictly straight? If so I’m walking home,” Hanschen inquires.

“Of course not,” Otto says leaning over to see Melchior’s phone screen. “All of us are on it in one column.”

Hanschen quickly makes eye contact with Moritz while the tall boy is distracted by his phone. He makes the hand motion for him to come up with him. Moritz nods and the both of them stand.

“Where are you going?” Ernst asks.

“Just to get a drink,” he lies, walking away.

Both boys hold red solo cups in their hands and place them on the table that holds all the liquor.

“Look I need you to pair me up with Ernst,” he whispers. The messy haired one pours vodka into his cup.

“Is this your big romantic gesture to show your love for him?” he mocks. Hanschen punches him in the shoulder.

“No, if I do stuff with him then my desire to be with him will be over with,” he explains. Moritz looks at him seriously.

“Look dude, I’m like, super high right now but even I know that you actually like Ernst. You won’t just get over him by making out,” he says back.

“Just do this, alright?” he asks. Hanschen deep inside knows that he’s right, but he really really hopes that his feelings for the religious boy will just go away.

He quickly turns and goes to sit next to Ernst again. A timer goes off and the two emerge from the closet.

“Did you guys even do anything?” Wendla implors.

“We talked about The Office,” Thea smiles.

“Ugh boring, next!” Wendla drunkenly shouts. Moritz grins and clicks button on the phone.

This goes on for a few rounds, taking the people who have already played out so everyone gets a turn. It comes to the end and only Ernst and Hanschen haven’t been called.

Hanschen’s stomach starts to turn as the last people come out, Ilse and Martha. He knows that in the next few seconds he’ll be put into the small space with someone he has found attractive since he met him. And has maybe has a crush on. Maybe.

“Hanschen and Ernst, enter the closet!” Melchior slurs holding open the door.

“Never thought I’d hear that one again,” he mutters. Hanschen chuckles and gets up.

“Need some help?” the blond asks, holding his hand out. To be honest, Ernst didn’t need any help. But he kind of just wanted to hold his hand. The brunette nods and grabs his hand before pulling himself up.

“Ready to be stuck with me?” he smirks as he enters the closet. Ernst rolls his eyes as he followed him in.

“Have fun,” Moritz giggles as the door closes.

Now it was just the two of them in the dark.

“What should we-” Ernst starts, but it quickly cut off as Hanschen grabs the back of his neck and begins to kiss him.

He quickly adjusts to the kiss and places his hand onto the blond’s face. The cool metal of the ring against cheek and his soft lips on his was pure bliss. Hanschen’s own hand s sneaks to the other’s chest. Ernst takes a fistful of his blond hair, making Hans gasp. He pushes against his chest so Ernst’s back is against the wall.

Hanschen has made out with his fair share of people. In fact, he has with everyone in his group (platonic making out is a thing). But none of them have felt as right as this one. With a boy he has lusted after for years and never made a move on. He could feel the fast pace of the boy’s heart beat.

Ernst moves his mouth to his neck. Hanschen stifles a moan as the ring clad finger squeezes his thigh. Who knew that such a devout Catholic could be like this?

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since I first saw you,” Hanschen gushes. The brunette looks him in the eyes, noses practically touching.

“Do-Do you like me?” Ernst stutters out. Hans quickly takes a step back.

Fuck. His feelings were still there. Even after kissing him.

“No, I mean like, you’re hot,” he stumbles. The tall boy stands silent. The alarm goes off and Ernst quickly gets out. Light floods in and he watches as he walk over to grab his keys.

“I gotta go I have church in the morning, do you guys mind?” he asks. They all shrug and say goodbye. Hanschen steps out.

“Fuck bro, you look like a mess,” Otto laughs. He flips him off before looking at Moritz.

“It work?” he asks. Hans nods his head and tries to somewhat fix the mess that is his hair.

“I’m gonna catch a ride home with Ernst,” he declares, running over to the front door.

The warm summer night air hits his skin. He continues his run over to Ernst's car that's parked on the street. He pulls open the passenger door and sits down.

“Hanschen-Jesus you scared me! Knock next time!” he yelps.

“What’s up? Why did you rush out?” the blond asks.

“I just, I don’t know,” Ernst says staring at ring. “I’ve kind of liked you for a while now.”

“I-I, um, I didn’t know,” Hanschen stumbles. He feels the same way? But they can’t date anyway. The same thing happens every single time. Hanschen dates them for a few months, gets bored, then breaks their heart. It’s never been different.

“Sorry for rushing out, I just thought for second that you liked me back…” Ernst mutters. Hanschen stays quiet.

“Do you want to come back to my house? Maybe just, talk?” he asks.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” the taller replies. He moves the car into drive and starts.

“I don’t want to hurt you Ernst. It’s not like I’m not attracted to you because obviously I am, but these things don’t end well,” he says after a few minutes of silence.

“So you do like me?” he asks pulling into the driveway. He puts the car in park and looks over at the blond. Hanschen freezes. He gets out the car and walks up to his front door. Ernst follows behind him.

“What the fuck Hanschen? Why can’t you just answer me?” he yells. Hanschen unlocks his door and walks inside. Ernst steps in behind him.

“You can’t just ignore me,” he sighs, closing the door.

“My parents aren’t home, Thea isn’t here,” Hanschen says sauntering over. “Can we just, save this conversation?”

Hanschen reaches up and gently kisses him.

“Okay.”

Ernst kisses him again. Hans slowly guides him towards his room. Hanschen opens the door open and pushes him onto the bed.

Hanschen rubs his eyes and sit up in his bed. He looks over and sees the boy sleeping next to him.

“God, I’m in love with you,” he whispers. Ernst turns and looks at him. Hanschen’s jaw drops.

“What did you just say?” he says, eyes wide open.

“I-I, um, shit,” he murmurs and gets out of the bed. Hanschen debates three different options in his head. One, run out of the house in his boxers and never come out. Two, say that he was thinking about something else. Or three, admit he’s been in love with his friend.

He has to let this out at some point and stop being such an asshole to a guy that means everything to him.

“I’m in love with you Ernst,” he admits. Ernst gets up and smiles at him.

“I love you too,” he replies. The brunette softly kisses him before looking over at the clock.

“Fuck, I’m going to be so late to church,” he says rushing over and putting on his clothes from yesterday. Hanschen grins and takes a seat on his bed.

“I could come with you,” he suggests. Ernst looks over at him and laughs.

“I just had sex with you and you have a hickey on your neck, no thanks,” he says pulling his pants on.

#spring awakening #hanschen x ernst #hernst #hernst fic #hanschen rilow #ernst robel #txt #my writing #fic

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luffik · 7 years

Text

Eyes of the Swarm - Lore pt. 5 (Goodnight Sweet God)

This post is a part of Eyes of the Swarm, my and @zlukaka’s visual novel in development. Comments/inquiries on this will be totally make our day!

Continued from the fourth lore post <3. If you’re just starting - go here (all this is still taking place before the beginning of the game, a sort of backstory).

With the rise of the Swarm’s avatar duo, came a relatively quiet time for the homeworld. It wasn’t really that the Realmsguard and the Swarm managed to settle into a peaceful arrangement but rather that Vra and Otto had their hands full trying to get their empire back in check after years of Kron’s messy rule. The outer realm agents of the Swarm had always been running wild, but even more of the Swarm’s realmshifters deserted into other worlds after catching the news of the previous ruler’s downfall. Vra and Otto would have probably been unable to sort it out if not for Kron’s Spymaster and his well established network of spies and informants in this world and others. The Spymaster had always liked Otto’s way of conducting business and so now, out of respect for the man, he agreed to support the new Emperor.

The access to shadowy intel of all kinds allowed Vra to nip most of domestic riots in the bud as well as find and execute those agents who decided to play gods in other worlds. The new avatars went mostly after realmshifters with possibly threatening agendas, ignoring the less inventive deserters, who simply went into hiding somewhere. They knew they would get them sooner or later - once killed in other dimension, they were bound to eventually respawn at the headquarters.

Although the Swarm forces seemed to be more vulnerable at that time and for the first time in history the Realmsguard saw the possible opening to strike the hive of the divine creatures that stood behind the enemy’s might - the Swarm itself - they did not take that chance. Those creatures, Terry claimed, were not their enemy. They didn’t deserve to be destroyed but rather, given a chance to experience the world, to learn the concept of good from evil. Like he had.

But since no plan for that crystallized at that point, the moment was lost. Instead, the Realmsguard took that time to build more bastions, and reinforce their defences. They roamed other worlds in search of more resources. Terry gently suggested that it would be good to help Vra and Otto with tracking down the run-away realmshifters and bringing them back to the homeworld. Indeed, Belgar and Nathan thought it was prudent, as they understood that the performance of their realmshifting system and the Swarm’s system was somehow connected.

They didn’t imagine just to what extent that was true. The realmshifting and resurrection systems used by the Realmsguard and the Swarm were not only connected, but also hinging on the same power source. Terry.

The god never told them. He was pretty confident he’s managing it all quite well. Until one day, Terry, who had since mostly moved to a separate body, felt sudden weakness. Muttering that he needed to take a short nap, he collapsed where he stood. He never woke up.

Later on it turned out that at that time, some of the realmshifters had for the first time crossed into a dimension where time flowed differently, and that was the speculative event that ‘overloaded’ Terry.

A small ceremony was held, where Belgar and Nathan made the heartbreaking announcement, assuring the Realmsguard that their god was not dead, merely sleeping - as although their mind-link with Terry had been broken, they retained their powers, and the resurrection and realmshifting system continued to work, proving that in some way, Terry was still with them. They swore that they would keep fighting, and they would find a way to wake Terry up. After that, they stayed with Terry for long hours, still unable to believe what happened. They would come to visit their god everyday.

Years passed. The loss of Terry slowly sank in.

They tried many ways to wake him up (including a risky move of detaching all the Realmsguard from the resurrection system for a while), but all of them failed.

The Swarm did not use the opportunity to strike the Realmsguard at its most vulnerable moments, but that was about how nice Vra and Otto were willing to play. With their empire rebuilt and strengthened with slaves and resources from other worlds, they were ready to fight for dominance over the homeworld and other realms. They grew bold, the Realmsguard retaliated, and so the old permanent conflict was reignited.

The difference was that this time, if things went way too far, there was a chance the enemy could be reasoned with.

Aside from the usual politics, Belgar and Otto still kept in touch in a less official capacity and although their encounters were still conducted in secret, one could risk calling those meetings... actually friendly.

Nathan and Vra had also retained their acquaintance, to the degree of establishing a secret phone line that neither Belgar nor Otto was supposed to know about (both did of course, and both had it tapped to make sure Vra and Nathan wouldn’t babble out something strategic). It was supposed to be mostly scientific at first (not really helping the enemy with inventions, but just two nerds talking) but throughout the years it grew to serve other purposes too.

Centuries passed and slowly, the Realmsguard gave up hope of ever waking Terry up. Belgar and Nathan grew apathetic and with time withdrew from active duty, letting the new high command take over the Realmsguard. At first they used to be present at the councils that determined the direction of their politics, but after a while they trusted that to the new generation as well. And so, Belgar and Nathan retired, and although they still live in the central sky bastion, they seem to have aged, mentally at least, and avoid people whenever they can.

They are still asked to come out of their cosy hiding to give a speech or two or simply to inspire morale with their legendary presence from time to time, but all in all, they are just relics of the past.

It seems the Realmsguard is coping just fine without them.

While the top tiers of the Realmsguard suffered from reshuffling, the Swarm did not change much. Otto and Vra held onto their power throughout the centuries, bickering at each other as much as ever.

Even though they surrounded themselves with people they think they can trust, every now and then there is a situation where Vra’s power is questioned and Otto has to rescue him from having his ass handed back to him; help which Vra always fails to acknowledge.

Vra gave up on some of his imperial ambitions, and enjoys the rather mild status quo they managed to work out. The life of an Emperor is a fine one, even if you’re stuck with an old bald guy with a creaky old-man voice, who you would do completely fine without.

The Swarm rulers still try to tease those fossils, Belgar and Nathan, into some contact from time to time but it’s harder than ever, because of how purposeless and old the founders of the Realmsguard feel and because of the new command trying to dissuade them from ‘fraternizing with the enemy’, claiming it would be demoralizing for the Realmsguard recruits, should they ever find out.

And so it is in the homeworld these days. Terry is still sleeping, Belgar and Nathan retired, Vra is holding onto his throne, and Otto occasionally goes into the Swarm hive to bring some vague guidelines so that they can keep improvising. Swarm spies infiltrated the Realmsguard, the Realmsguard spies infiltrated the Swarm, everyone is keeping an eye on each other, and no one makes any big moves.

Some people say there is a vigilante who hunts down the runaway Swarm realmshifters between dimensions in hopes that Terry would wake up when all the portals between the worlds have been sealed. They say the mask this almost legendary figure wears resembles Terry’s face.

And here, the game will begin ;3

Thank you for reading! If you got this far, please tell us what you think! It will totally make our day and motivate us to keep working :3

And if anything made you curious to know more - please ask, we’d love to answer your questions (possibly with some pictures too) <3!

#eyes of the swarm #visual novel #storytelling #worldbuilding #original characters #my art

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