I wrote a song about Pyrrha Nikos from RWBY because I love her and she’s beautiful and only deserves the most beautiful things in life. I told @misshermitcrab forever ago that I wanted to write her a song and I finally did SO THIS IS DEDICATED TO JULIE. I hope you guys like if you listen! <3
Brilliant sun, where have you gone? The nights are getting longer, fear is setting in everyone. Beyond the clouds, I see the world. But from up here I have never felt so alone.
Do you believe in destiny?
Autumn leaves fall into my hands. Their edges cut me when they land. Just another scar that I’ve counted. Maybe this was not what I wanted.
Armed to the teeth and setting out. But I don’t feel protected, instead eclipsed by all my doubt. A final kiss to find a light. I’m sorry that you didn’t realize it was goodbye.
Do you believe in destiny?
Autumn leaves fall into my hands. Their edges cut me when they land. This is how I’m meant to protect you. Please forgive me for holding the truth.
Huntress, savior of the world. Broken pieces of a girl. Falling into my destiny. This was the path laid out for me.
Huntress, savior of the world. Not superhuman, just a girl. Following the echoes of the ones who showed me how to love.
Autumn leaves fall into my hands. Their edges cut me when they land. This is how I’m meant to protect you. Everything was over way too soon.
Your Sole is now stuck in a game of spin the bottle. How do they react?
Honestly, Gene really hates these kind of games. She’s a prankster and is up for jokes and pranks, but they’re pretty chill and not full blown mean pranks and they’re not dares.
She hates these kind of things cause from experience before the war in her late teens, she had a mean prank pulled on her. While over at friends and fast asleep they decided to mess with her and cut her hair. They were definitely in for a rude awakening since Gene takes her hair very seriously XD
And here, once when she sees MacCready’s teeth she’s like “oh hell no” and makes an excuse to leave the room.
- Hey guys! Sorry it’s been awhile, I needed to make sure this one did the prompt I received justice. Thank you @snufflesandfluff for the idea and I sincerely hope you all enjoy and let me know what you think! (Jay tries to deal with PTSD while Erin is in New York.)
[there’s mention of death and injuries from war so just a fair warning it’s kind of dark!]
She’d been gone three weeks now. Three weeks in the Big Apple with her nice new, hopefully cushy job and with her hopefully kind and welcoming boss and with her hopefully significantly larger paycheck.
He wanted the absolute best for her, he did. There wasn’t a doubt in his head that he did but there was that nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that he needed her to come back, because the nights were getting longer and darker and his sleep was getting to be less and less and the only thing that could bring him any semblance of comfort anymore was a bottle of alcohol when it used to be her hands and her lips and her tongue and he seemed to be going backwards in all the progress that he had made in going to therapy and in talking to other struggling soldiers and he really, really hated himself for that.
Could you do a logan howlett x reader imagine where you are having an anxiety attack and he helps you, please ?
You were used to Logan’s nightmares waking you up in the middle of the night; after sleeping next to him for 4 years it didn’t phase you. What you weren’t expecting was that your own nightmares would begin to keep you awake.
For about a week now you’d been having the same nightmare, and each night it was getting longer and longer. It started out the same, a knock of your and Logan’s door. The door opened and Logan walked out, dressed in his X-Men suit, getting on the plane and flying away.
From there the dream cut to you sitting on the couch watching the news. You watched as your friends and boyfriend fought against Magneto’s forces. The action played out for you on the TV. Explosions, buildings falling apart, and screams of bystanders trying to find safety. But tonight your dream took a turn to the worst.
You were suddenly in the middle of the action and locked eyes with Logan. He was just about to say something to you when a metal beam pierced through his heart and he slumped to the ground.
You ran over to him and fell to your knees, trying to get the metal out so he could heal. You pulled the metal, cutting your hands in the process, and finally got it out. You waited for him to heal and wake back up but nothing was happening, he wasn’t healing.
You shot awake with a gasp and covered your mouth so you wouldn’t wake Logan up. You ran into the bathroom, shutting the door and slumping back into the corner.
Your heart was beating faster than you thought possible, your mind was racing, and your breaths were quick and shallow. No matter what you tried to do you could only see Logan dead and in your arms from your dream.
Logan turned over in bed to pull you close but instead felt your place empty. A high whimper reached his ears and he shot up, seeing a faint light coming from under the door. “Y/N,” he jumped up and ran to the bathroom. He opened the door to see you crouched in the corner, tears on your cheeks, and hardly breathing. “Hey,” he worriedly crouched by your side and looked you over, “Y/N, what’s the matter. Are you hurt?”
“I…I can’t breath,” you said shaking.
“I think you’re having a panic attack,” he looked around the bathroom trying to find something to use that might help but came up empty handed. “Y/N, look at me,” but the tears blurred your vision. He picked you up and placed you on his lap, head against his chest. “Listen to my heart beat, focus on the sound, ok. Feel my breaths? Match those.” He pet your head as he felt you slowly calm down. After 20 minutes you were breathing normally and were done shaking.
“Hey,” he brushed the tears off your cheeks, “what happened? Are you ok?”
“I had this awful dream. You weren’t healing and - and you died in my arms and - and I saw it all. I - I just woke up and I couldn’t bre-breath,” you said starting to cry again.
“Y/N, hey, look at me. Alive and well. I’m ok, I promise. And I don’t play on dying anytime soon.”
“You didn’t plan on dying in my dream either.”
“I’m sure you’re right but the difference from your dream and real life is that everytime I go on a mission away from you I go out there with one thing in mind; coming back home to you.”
“Really. You feeling a little better now?” You nodded. He lifted you up and carried out out of the bathroom, “come on, let’s get back to bed.”
NOW PROPERLY EDITED || Angsty Levi drabble to try and get back into my writing groove. I left the other character extremely vague so feel free to imagine the other half of your Levi otp if you wish. Otherwise, enjoy and hit me with some feedback if you do not mind~! Special thanks to @perksofbeingawaifu for inspiring me to write more drabbles! Definitely check out her works!!
Levi’s eyes always seemed to wander over his surroundings with a meticulous edge. Lids heavy over piercing irises as he scanned every inch of each environment he stepped into. Nothing ever seemed to slip past his vision. Even the dust particles that would float and dance in the light of the mid-morning sun were completely visible to him in shadow.
This was a skill he had honed in his earlier years. Always needing to be aware of what was behind him or who was around each corner in the darkness of the underground. Always wanting to avoid unnecessary attention and unwelcomed company as he would weave his way through damp back alleys and overcrowded walkways. Without a doubt, his hands were fine tools. Eleminating danger in a matter of seconds with a sharp slash of his shining blade before cleaning the mess left behind on his slender fingers.
However, he didn’t trust his hands. Lethal things coated in death and destruction. Only able to save a few while harming many. His hands moved as ordered and they served him well, but sometimes they would fail him and leave him grasping at cold air instead of something solid and warm. The lives of those dear to him have slipped through his fingers too many times for him to have faith in their truth. His eyes showed him possibilities and outcomes. They showed him what was and what could be, but a majority of the time, his hands would fail to deliver the proper results.
But his eyes…
His eyes were his veil. His way of masking himself into the low of society he had spent his entire life surrounded by. His way of blending into shadows and vast seas of people to hide his existence from those who would seek to end it. His eyes were his shield and his first line of defense. They never lied and they never failed him. He trusted his eyes. He believed in the images they painted for him, even if they were hard to process or even accept.
So, even now, as he stood in front of the mirror with his ghastly physical appearance being projected before him; he fully trusted what he saw. The bags under his eyes had become severe. A faint hue of red bleeding into the whites while the blue in his irises appeared dull and grey. Lifeless and sleep deprived from years of painting blood soaked images of his corpse ridden reality, only for his mind to process and use as haunts for his short lived dreams.
He looked like shit and there was no hiding it either.
He was much older now and it showed. The life he was leading showed, and the weight of the lives he carried to the grave showed. All of it was apparent in his eyes. A man who was exhausted, but strong. Lonely, but stable. Empty, but still alive. It was all there and staring back at him as he towel dried the scruff of his hair.
He needed to sleep, he determined. Setting the towel aside as he ran his fingers over the course hair coating his jaw.
His eyes were indeed windows, he surmised as he heaved a sigh at the reflective glass. Windows he desperately needed to shut if only for a couple of hours, but when he did, the images they had painted over the years would slide through his dreams like a moving picture. Replaying his darkest moments over and over again until his mind would scream at him to wake up. For him to open the windows and to let them paint more pictures for him to continuously relive.
Slowly, he rubbed his lids with the pads of his fingers. Pushing himself away from the mirror and out of the door frame of the washroom and into the soft candle glow of his quiet office. Looking at himself was hard. Seeing himself with the eyes he so trusted and having to accept that that was indeed how he currently appeared made him want to crawl out of his own skin.
He always made it a point to be presentable, but today he was just too tired to do so. Three days with no sleep and little to no food quickly took it’s toll, and his body was now at an age where he couldn’t outright hide his shitty sleeping habits, or lack thereof, with a clean shave, and a few cups of strong tea.
His hands moved back to his jaw. Scratching at the rough hairs he wasn’t used to wearing as he strode over towards his clean, hung up shirt, and laid out uniform boots. The nights were getting colder and longer and his health wasn’t in top form at this point. The last thing he needed was to get sick on top of his already piss poor condition.
“You look pretty rough.” A soft voice chimed. An echo Levi had long thought lost and a sound that made his heart clench in his chest.
“I know.” He answered firmly. Rounding his trustworthy eyes towards his office chair that was positioned behind him where a shadowed silhouette sat comfortably.
“You should sleep.” The voice resounded. The leather of his chair squeaking as the figure adjusted their body to face him more clearly.
“I know.” He responded again. His feet slowly stepping across the wood of the floor while his hands remained stock still at his hips.
The figure was a familiar one. One he hadn’t seen for quite some time and one he’d admittedly missed and cared for quite deeply. Still though, that didn’t negate the fact that they were sitting their precious ass in his office chair.
“Get your ass out of my chair.”
The figure laughed heartily. Standing up completely straight in one smooth, eerily quiet motion before moving around the desk and stepping into the dim light of a single flame that danced atop a mostly melted candle.
“Why are you here?” Levi asked sharply. His tired eyes staying locked on the person in front of him while his body moved around them and toward his oak desk. Each of his steps precise and angled so not to cause a floorboard to squeak.
“I just… wanted to see you. That’s all.”
Levi let out a huff. Blinking his eyes a couple of times as he picked up a file from his desk with his clever fingers. Tapping the tip of his index against the paper sharply as he evened out his breathing and began moving toward the elegantly lit body in front of him.
“I wanted to see you too, but you shouldn’t be here.”
“Can’t we just tal-”
Levi’s body had stopped only a few inches from the figment in front of him. His free hand reaching out to grasp at a lock of hair. To run his fingers through it and touch the silky strands that his eyes showed him were there. But his hands were only met with cold air. A breeze in the night against his still damp skin. With an exasperated hum, Levi retracted his fingers. Silently turning and moving his body toward his office chair and sitting down with a hard thump.
“Disappointed?” The figure questioned cheekily. Stepping to sit in the front facing chair directly across from Levi’s own. Their movements making no sounds and their voice barely audible enough for his overly tired ears to hear.
“Of course.” He murmured. Staring at the smiling face in front of him with honest regret and exhaustion.
His chest hurt terribly while his eyes burned with leashed tears and rapidly approaching sleep. He was losing his mind. He was sure of it, but his eyes had never failed him before. Not even in his deepest pits of exhaustion and not even when he silently begged a god he doesn’t believe in to let him see this face smiling at him one last time as he stared down at their pale, blood drained body.
The sadness and greif he felt as he peered into the glowing eyes of the other across from him matched the fear of them disappearing in his gut. His face remained as passive as ever, but emotion boiled over internally to the point of rising acidic bile in his throat as he leaned forward and rested his head against the cold slab of the desk.
“Sleep. I’ll stay.”
“You’re not even real.” He stated sharply. Reaching one hand out while placing the other under his head as a cushion.
“Of course I am. You can see me, can’t you?”
Levi remained quiet for a moment. Watching with hopeful, tired eyes as the figures hand reached over and met his own. Gracing his sense of touch with nothing but cold air yet again. A frown pulling at his lips and his brows furrowing while his ears rang acutely. His vision slowly but surely going dark, and the view of he and his lovers interlocking fingers slowly fading to black.
“Yeah.” He whispered. Sleep washing over him in a deep wave and pulling him under.
He trusted his eyes. He believed in the images they painted for him, even if they were hard to process or even accept. However, he didn’t trust his hands. Sometimes they would fail him, and leave him grasping at cold air instead of something solid and warm. Sometimes, they would let precious things slip from his grip and shatter into tiny pieces that would scatter to the wind.
But, most of the time, they would leave him yearning for a touch of warmth that he could no longer feel.
The first thing Dex notices about Nursey is that he’s disgustingly gorgeous. The second is his tattoo.
The first thing Nursey notices, apparently, is that Dex has noticed. He hikes up his sleeve to give Dex a better look. “You like it?”
“Yeah,” Dex says, “it’s nice,” and it is, but that’s not why he’s looking. He’s heard of guys doing ink to embellish their soulmark, and, well, he has to wonder. Because Nursey is the best-looking guy Dex has ever seen, and because Dex’s soulmark lives in a similar place – high up on his own arm, wedged underneath so it can’t be seen unless Dex lifts his arm above his head. His heart thuds dully as he stares at Nursey’s ink and wonders if this could be it.
Then Nursey opens his mouth and breaks Dex’s heart.
Getting the van ready for winter; the fairy lights are up, there’s tinsel on the dashboard, an extra blanket on the bed, a hot meal on the stove and the heater’s cranked up full. The nights are getting colder and longer the further North we drive, but the van’s warm and cosy and doesn’t leak too much, and our first Christmas in a van will be spent roasting potatoes on the fire outdoors with a bottle of Port.
Follow the hashtag #Fromrusttoroadtrip to follow our van conversion project and our travels around Europe! 🌍
Betty lay in her bed with a hand on her heart, massaging the spot to brush away the heaviness. Her chest felt jagged from the things she’s been through in less than twenty four hours and more than anything else, Betty Cooper needed to breathe.
She needed to go out, into the night and take in the fresh air until the rocks in her lungs burst out. Every inhale felt difficult and exhales were painful for her sore throat, her feet itching to go outside.
It’s a horrible moment. Witnessing somebody struggling
with a painful memory and past, impossible to atone for. Simply because there
are no words to be said to such person. No way to comfort their mind, no secret
method to calm their heart.
It’s been 4 months since that night at Calum’s birthday party. 4 months of seeing Luke whenever you two got the chance. It became a pretty regular thing for you to meet up in various locations and send each other into absolute bliss. As much as you wanted to deny what was happening, the nights started getting longer waiting for him, your body craved Luke more than ever, and you found yourself wanting him all to yourself.
You told yourself that this wasn’t going to happen, and if it did, you were done. However, you just can’t seem to force yourself to let him go. Every time your phone would go off you rushed to see if it was him, only to be let down when you saw it wasn’t. He has you in his grips and you’re not sure how to feel about it.
So, this thing sometimes happens where a prominent person makes a public claim that wind is a finite resource, and therefore that we shouldn’t make wind turbines because they will stop all of the airflow. Then everybody points at them at laughs, and the clip gets passed around as a Weak Man argument against renewable energy, etcetera etcetera. But climate systems are pretty complicated, and people might be making fun of the “we’ll run out of wind” claim without necessarily understanding why it’s wrong. And it turns out to be wrong in a fairly interesting way. After all, there’s a certain amount of logic to it- you can’t get energy from nothing! We’ve got to be depleting something, right?
Asyouknowbob, wind is a rebalancing of atmospheric pressure differences on large scales, from high pressure to low. To the first order, these are caused mainly by thermal gradients (north-south) and coriolis forces (east-west)- basically, sunlight hits the equator head-on, and the poles at an oblique angle, so the energy density of any given patch of land will be higher at the equator. The thermal expansion increases pressure at the equator relative to the poles, and convection takes care of the rest, with the direction of Earth’s rotation setting the counter/clockwise direction of the convection cells (if the Earth spun the other way, England would be frozen and Quebec would be temperate). The presence of liquid water bodies, dark forests, and reflective snow or sand can influence this a bit, as can the atmospheric composition, but honestly the order of magnitude is mostly just set by the spherical geometry of the Earth and its distance from the sun.
A windmill can leach energy from a given gust of wind, sure. But that doesn’t mean the pressure difference across two different geographic regions has suddenly been equalized. Instead, it just makes wind a less efficient conveyor of heat and mass, as if air had a higher viscosity wherever windmills are common. In fact, with pressure imbalances being corrected more slowly, that creates an opportunity for atmospheric imbalances to grow *more* severe. So the immediate lee side of a wind farm might be dead air, but elsewhere, where people live and work, average wind speeds might well increase! Think about what happens to the flow rate of water coming out of a garden hose, if you cover half the opening with your thumb.
So you can see that broadly, wind power is actually a kind of once-removed solar power, with some of the same advantages and disadvantages. They do, of course, have other consequences. Higher atmospheric “viscosity” means that our wind turbines are causing a warmer equator, and cooler poles. Inland areas are more arid, coastal areas are more prone to monsoons, and with extreme windmill proliferation California might even start having seasons. In general, oceans and large lakes store heat very well, which is why coastal areas are less seasonal, and our windmills insulate those oceans further and prevent them from moderating nearby land areas.
However, it’s not only solar power. See, if we increase the “viscosity” of the atmosphere by sticking a bunch of windmills into it, then it’s more tightly tied to the motion of the rocky planet underneath it. From the perspective of our angular momentum as a rotating planet, it makes the Earth “heavier” in a sense, harder to move. Thus, we see that unlike pure solar panels, wind turbines draw from a second, non-renewable source of power. The real problem with windmills isn’t that they use up all the wind somehow- if anything, they increase the speed of the wind you can expect to feel. The real problem with them is that they deplete the Earth’s finite store of angular momentum, slowing down the rotation of the Earth. If unrestrained windmill propagation is allowed to continue, the day and night will get longer and longer, until eventually the spinning stops completely and the Earth becomes tidelocked. One hemisphere will be trapped in eternal daylight, baked to a desert, while the frozen night on the other side makes life all but impossible. In the narrow band of twilight at the boundary of these two hemispheres, where the last remnants of humanity scratch out a desperate living, the thermal gradient between the dark and light sides of our world will produce some very strong winds. They’ll be steady and unidirectional from the day side to the night side, making wind an ideal power source for our dystopian cities.
( I was gonna work on replies but I got distracted watching Mark play Outlast 2 and now I’m all twitchy and I’m super sleepy but I’m too freaked out by that game to sleep! That’s the first game in a long time that’s been able to spook me like this. And I was even watching someone else play it! )
Sorry if you were reading it, I posted it by accident when saving omggggggg. I hope you like it I’m sorry if its at all off hhh
There were so many daemons out that night. You felt off as soon as you took on the Flan hunt with your friend. You could feel her uneasiness too, she asked you, “Jii, are you sure? We don’t have to do this tonight.“
But there wasn’t any other night to do it. The nights were steadily getting longer and more dangerous.
“We’ll be fine.“
Things were going so well after all Flans were eliminated. You were about clear off when you heard rustic groaning. The ground underneath you started shaking and an Iron Giant appeared, bearing its sword.
You girls had dealt with Giants in company of others, the very rare occasion by yourselves. You set off your flares to weaken it, crossbow at the ready to attack. You were able to get a few good hits in and soon you’d be able to go home.
That is until a Ronin emerged.
Val threw the last thunder filled flask Ignis had given her and hoped would affect the Giant as well. You blasted away at the Giant, dodging and rolling away when it swung its sword. Right when it was on knees, you felt the ground shake again. As the Iron Giant fell, replacing it was a bigger, more lethal Red Giant.
As soon as you saw the fiery blade rise from the ground, you screamed, “VAL!“
She rolled away from the Ronin, and glanced at the new foe making way towards both of you.
“Jiion, go to the car!” she shouted as she frantically waved her arm.
You started running as fast you could towards your friend. She launched daggers at each of the enemy and she paused. She lifted her hand up.
“Val, let’s go!” You pulled at her arm, trying to get her to move, but she shouted, “Get back! I don’t know if this will work! If not just run!”
She pushed you away and waited for you to scramble back a few feet. She turned and faced the enemies. Val waited until they were scarily close and took a deep breath. She flexed her palm outwards.
You felt the air come alive and the lightning strike hit the Ronin and it disintegrated. The sudden force pushed you to the ground. The Red Giant was hunched over and stunned. Your friend was kneeling down holding her still stretched out arm. You heaved her up, and she breathed out, “Run!”
The Red Giant was just beginning to rise and you both started running to your buggy. Imps were starting to appear and you cleared the way with your shotgun. You didn’t dare let Val try her aim with daggers for fear of puncturing a tire.
As you hit the headlights, you were grateful for Noctis’ insistence of installing daemon-proof headlights. The imps and other assorted daemons were staying at bay and you breathed a sight of relief. Val’s arm wouldn’t stop spasming.
You both nearly wept with relief when you reached Lestallum. You slunk out of the car and put a hand to your chest. You felt Val get off the car and she made her way to your side. She flexed her arm and wrapped her arms around you.
“Let’s not do that again,” you said in her ear. She was trembling with you.
“The magic or the swarm of daemons at night?”
You gave a small smile at your friend’s attempt at humor. She hauled her and your bag out of the car and she said, “Let’s get the stupid bounty and get a nightcap.”
After haggling a fair amount of Gil for your efforts, you both took your cases of liquor and drudged home. When you reached the front door, Val handed you the keys and once you unlocked it, you kicked the door open. You took the hunting bags from Val and threw them into the closet. You both went in your rooms to change.
You dropped yourself onto the couch and curled up against the cushions, feeling the last of the adrenaline wane. You felt each of your joints protest movement and you took a deep breath. Your heart was beating uneasily in your chest. Thoughts of uncertainty came through. You tried not to think of what might of happened if things went south.
If the guns had jammed or if Val couldn’t produce the thunderbolt. If the imps had overtaken the car and be forced to try at locating a camping haven under the threat of daemons. Or if you werent quick enough to dodge the Iron Giant attacks.
Val’s soft voice brought you out of your head. She had a glass of spirits on one hand and a first aid kit in the other. You took the glass with a small thank you and as she was sitting down to examine to see if you had any injuries, the doorbell rang. You both jumped at the sound and Val went up to answer it. She looked into the peephole and gasped. She opened the door, “Oh my Gods, you’re here.”
You were about to get up when she let Gladio in. After weeks of radio silence, he was here again, “Hey babygirl.”
You bounced up to embrace him and he nearly lifted you up off the floor. Over his shoulder, you saw Prompto guiding Ignis in.
You heard Val suck in a breath, “Prom, what happened to you?”
There was a pause. “Where’s Noctis?” She asked quietly.
Gladio sat down on the couch and sat you on his lap, “Let’s get into that later,” he said, in a gruff voice, “Do you guys mind if we crash here for a bit?”
“Not at all,” you said as you kissed his scruffy cheek. They all looked a little unkempt and weather worn. But you didn’t really care. He was here again and you weren’t going to let him go for days.
He seemed reluctant to leave your side too. His hands kept winding in yours and for the first time since you’ve gotten home you’ve stopped shaking. Val started handing out drinks and she began tending to Prompto’s wounds. Ignis began worrying his cane in his gloved hands.
“Noctis was absorbed into the crystal. We do not know when he’ll return.”
You froze. The hand running up and down Gladio’s arm stopped and you looked at the blind man, “What?”
They began documenting the past few weeks from when they had stopped contacting you two. They had lost Prompto and they had made their way to the Empire stronghold in Gralea. You sensed Gladio’s sadness as Ignis went on about losing Noct, and their uneasy trek back to Lestallum.
Val refilled their glasses and went up to make dinner. She led Ignis to the kitchen and Prompto followed, leaving you and Gladio in the living room.
He shook his head. You took his face in your hands and smoothed down his scruff, “What’re you thinking about, big guy?”
He let out a long breath through his nose and said, “I feel like I failed.”
“Gladio, it’s his destiny, he-”
“I pushed him too hard. I said the wrong things.”
He looked into your eyes, his amber irises burning through you.
“No, Gladio. You expressed what you could in what way you knew best.”
You had been there for the calls. He was so frustrated at Noctis for not taking up the mantel immediately, for not being considerate of Ignis enough. He just sighed when you said that. You both stayed quiet for a while, taking in each other’s warmth.
You were so glad he was here with you again. After the entire mess that was Altissia and recovering from it, you were glad that he was safe from whatever, whomever was challenging them.
“So me and Val almost died tonight for a few thousand Gil.”
He nearly spat out his drink, “What in the f-”
Val emerged from the kitchen with two bowls of pasta, “Everything okay?”
Gladio nearly flung you off his lap; he stood up so fast, “What in the hell were you two doing out there?”
“We were doing a simple job, but then we were swarmed by daemons. We got out though.”
Prompto and Ignis had emerged from the kitchen too, and Val stood her ground against the hulking frame of your boyfriend. You shoved a bowl of pasta against your boyfriends gut and forced him to sit down. You took the other bowl from Val’s hand and said, “Down, girl. I’ll get the spray bottle.”
She went back to the kitchen to fetch another bowl and everyone started tucking in. Gladio asked you to recount your night. You took a hearty swig of your drink and began when you had stepped into the diner to ask about hunting jobs. You tried to keep your voice steady when the Giants appeared.
Val refused to answer when asked about the magic, besides “It was just so weird, I thought I’d be cooked alive but I did it for Jii. If I wasn’t gonna make it, I knew she would.”
Soon, you and Gladio were sent to your room to make the couch for Prompto while he showered. When it was your turn, Gladio helped you undress and rubbed all of your sore spots away and lathered you up in sweet smelling soap. You did the same for him and kissed him softly as the warm shower of water soothed away all today and the past weeks.
You both dove under the covers and held each other close. Finally in the warmth of Gladiolus’ arms, you were able to collect your thoughts.