syunee

Love Begins
trying on a metaphor
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if i look back, i am lost

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hello vonnie
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JBB: An Artblog!
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

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@bertfu
syunee
∟ ♛ — ; “No, don’t be foolish. Like you need to concern yourself with more things than you already do.”
♔* █: ❛ "Oh... uh, it's fine."
∟ ♛ — ; “I think… I just lost some time. Thinking or whatever."
♔* █: ❛ "Oh, good. I thought... something bad actually happened."
∟ ♛ — ; ”What the actual fuck just happened?”
♔* █: ❛ "Uh... what did just happen?"
i'm just going to quietly say that i really adore your bertholdt and the way you play him is a+ ;v;
O h MY GOD??? THANK U O H MYG OD ; v ; thank u so much! wow i was really NOT expecting this at all! and just ghugh v iBRATES HAPPILY
u are really too sweet thank u so much ///// /)w(\
femaletitantype replied to your post:
[/pets you, scoops you up, and cuddles ]
sniffles
∟ ♛ — ; “Oh? I take it Reiner didn’t behave like his normal idiotic self then.”
♔* █: ❛ "Huh? Oh, it was no problem if he was or not... Hm, maybe a little..."
♔* █: ❛ "Hm, today has been a really good day so far."
—「☼; ❝…Alright. If… you say so.❞ He doesn’t buy it, that something isn’t nagging on the back of his fellow trainee’s mind but also feels as though he’s over-stepping boundaries by forcing the issue—the very last thing he wants to do to his anxiety-ridden comrade. ❝If something ever is wrong, and you need to talk to someone… I’m free, okay?❞ A suggestion at maybe revealing whatever is bugging him that will, he’s quite positive, be ignored as a whole. Still, he can’t help but at least give a light attempt, a nudge that will get them nowhere.
♔* █: ❛ "... ...--" No other words were expressed other than the vague happiness that his... friend dropped an unwanted topic discussion. Green's settled on the other, widening ever so slightly at the offer. Unfortunately, a good majority of one's problems were completely secret and much as he wanted to bring it up to someone that wasn't Reiner or Annie, there was no plausible way.
"... ... Thank you." A pause. "You too."
"who the heckie are you?"
name: cass middle name: elizabeth height: levi's height birthday: 31st march favorite colour: pink tho best school subjects: graphic/website design, computer fundamentals mac or PC: idk i rly like mac current shirt colour: black gamer: is this a yes or no question? day or night: night
—「☼; ❝—Bertholdt? Are you okay?❞ He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, not all but he can’t help but overhear the taller male speaking to himself in a tone that suggests that perhaps fatigue is not what has him looking so down so suddenly. Marco is, possibly, sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong but certainly it isn’t rude to at least ask of his comrades emotional condition—right?
♔* █: ❛ With his lack of presence on the outside world, at the moment, everything seemed to startle him, even-- "Marco. No, I'm... I'm fine." The tone and the presentation of his voice proved to be something much more. It surely doesn't help when his signature action comes into play, aka unnatural sweating in any anxiety ridden scenario possible.
Source: X X
`❜ ██ ♕ … He was fairly bothered by the verity that he was forced to peer up in order to look Bertholdt in the eye. Conversely, it could be easily ignored as azure hues blinked a couple of times, spotting the obvious dismayed look on his visage. “Oi, everything alright, kid?
♔* █: ❛ A slow close over green's gave him a moment to calm oneself down before a familiar, and rather intimidating voice, startled him. "Ah--" Wetness began to form on tan features before gulping audibly. Body stiffened in response to the presence of the smaller man.
"Fine! I'm, ah, fine."
Interrogation was a mental process, psychological. The subject in question was nervous by nature, always antsy, ice under a white-hot sun and she kept the room silent purposely. It was stifling, suffocating; it erased any sense of normalcy by the absence of sound alone. The environment was white, sterile and vicious, a harsh, unforgiving splash of nothing that swirled endlessly, never stopped, and as she entered, the cream of her skin clashed horribly. Green blurred and bled against the backdrop of light and white, dragged outwards and twitched violently with every step she took.
There were soldiers one minute and orders for them to leave the next; he was bound by the wrists, arms roughly twisted at his back, all with his neck situated upright by a loosely adjusted rope to ensure he had no way of inflicting injuries on himself. He was trapped like a rat; the thoughts unfurled her lips into a smile, something far too sharp for a word so soft.
When she peered down at the boy bound and small, so small in comparison to her towering form, she didn’t see a human, a child, but a thousand different faces, the stains of blood and flickers of humanity itself on fire beneath a sky dripping with gore. Bones laid asunder beneath a canopy of green trees wholly unfitting for such a sanguinary scene. Friends. Family. The collapse of their home, their cage shattered inwards, a grim reminder. Life and death and the loss of her own soul.
A finger lifted, tapped out a rhythm, one, two, three… One, two, three. Torture was psychological, expectation was a greater pain than anything the needles at her side could do, far worse than incisions, burns, salt poured into open wounds. Physically he could heal anything she threw at him. Mentally?
Mentally he was clay in her hands.
"I’m sorry that it had to end this way," and perhaps there is sympathy threaded beneath the drone of her voice, for the boy forced to play a hand far too big for his age. Maybe she sees herself, a weapon with a cause, a goal, but war is filled with shades of gray and she’s swam in that sea so long that the color has been drained from her veins.
She sees him through spectacles of red; only red, only blood.
Tap, tap, tap — the only noise in the room was her nail, the ever present tick aligned with the beat of her heart, maybe his. Hopefully his. “This will be much easier on all of us," and she pauses, raises her browline, quirks her lips in an implication she knows he’ll understand, "if you speak quickly and truthfully. Do you think you can do that for me, Bertholdt?”
Her voice is sweet, maternal; she addresses him by his first name to breed familiarity, breathe a sense of comfort to loosen his muscles for now. Unravel his barriers. The enemy is always a sheep in wolves clothing, but in this world, who is the enemy?
♔* █: ❛ The suffocation of soldiers grew too much, Adam's apple bobbing against the silver of the blade. With the demand of company's leave, reassurance washed over tired, sweaty features for a moment's comfort. However, it was merely a temporary relief when the remembrance of a rope bound tight around his throat. Arms and his back ached from a posture that was far too long in play. It hurt but one had no right to complain upon the plain pain set upon him, if only for right now.
Dull green's no longer dared to look forward but only took interest in the ground below shaking feet. He promised Reiner and Annie that no matter what, no information would be shared or given. Physical pain he could handle-- with steam blocking healing wounds or growing limbs. All in all, the self confidence and positive outlook weighed less than unsure and pessimism. The only thing he wanted... needed to do was to get back home with Annie and Reiner but that seemed and deemed impossible in moment's current situation.
No one accepted their apology, especially not bound and tied with a broken jaw. It was only a fool's mistake, only a fool's partake in regrettable words expressed.
The woman's presence proved to be more than nervous or a lack of any sight of comfort. No, not with the overbearing silence that droned over in such a boring background. Digits shifted lazily behind his back, wrists attempted to turn to take off any of the dull, printing pain that pushed into tan flesh. This proved to be more than futile, wincing at the rope digging further under his chin. Needless to say, everything was smothering.
Hearing her sickening sweet, calm voice set him more than on edge, body stiffening in response to her passive-aggressive statement. Hues refused to move up from the unwelcoming sight of her boots. His breath from now on gave a sign of high anxiety and utmost refusal. Whatever was coming his way became presented with a low guard. Colossal Titan he was, but not when it came to psychological bearings. Then her voice came again but this time with his given name tact to the end of her question.
A sharp inhale was given in response, green's flickering about in skittish movements as if soaking the information and the detail of the room. The strength of his mental state was weak, which meant anyone was more than welcome to kick through the small barrier he held up in defense for unbecoming moments such as these. And for what it seemed like an eternity, his eyes finally looked upon the scientist who would be "taking care" of him. If anything, one could mistake the look in dangerous hues as scared and pleading, lips pursing together as a defensive mechanism.
Home.
♔* █: ❛ A book laid half-abandoned by calloused digits whilst steady greens looked almost guiltily upon faded, chipped mahogany. Tired? Exhausted? Sticking around unconditionally wore him out.
"I just... need to sleep."
warrior