whitaker/zosimos for ALL of those otp questions. you know it
1.What was the first thing they noticed about one another? Zosimos noticed that Whitaker seemed kind of lost. Whitaker noticed that Zosimos had a nice voice.2.How do they grocery shop with one another? They talk a lot while strolling through the shop. They become too invested in their conversation and forget half the things they had to buy. They have to go back and they solemnly swear to remember to buy everything. They don’t.3.Do they have a garden? If so, with what flowers? I don’t know about a garden, but they would probably grow a pot of succulents together. They’d pick plants with colors that fit nicely together and all.4.Where do they go to have a good time? They stay right at home or maybe go to the library.5.Do they watch any shows together? If so, what shows? Whitaker would probably get Zosimos into Lost and accidentally spoil most of the major twists. Zosimos doesn’t mind because Whitaker looks adorable trying to explain the main points of the show.6.What would they get one another for their birthday? Whitaker would get Zosimos a book on insects! Zosimos loves arthropods in general and especially hexapods! Zosimos would knit a sweater for Whitaker, probably. He gets really worried when Whitaker goes out without a sweater or jacket.7.Who is better at wrapping presents? Zosimos.8.Who traces hearts on the other person’s skin? Zosimos, absolutely!9.Who picks the other up bridal style? Whitaker does this sometimes and it’s just as cute as it sounds.10.What is their favourite restaurant to go to?It’s not a restaurant, but there’s a small coffee place with some seriously delicious berry pies that they love.
Whitaker felt empty. He could only half-remember his walk back. He couldn’t feel any outer stimuli. No sound, no breeze, nothing to see but Zosimos’s dead eyes. Flashes of their happy times corrupted by the blank stare that bore into his soul.
When he opened the door, he could see Zosimos sitting on his chair, smiling. Greeting him. Welcoming him back. He almost ran to his love, but the chair was empty. There’s no one there. Not anymore.
And as if snapping from a trance, Whitaker cried. He curled up on himself and let his tears flow. Everything he had been holding back bursts out and Whitaker wished he never knew emotions. Never knew Zosimos. Never had to love him.
He wished he didn’t have to grieve someone who would never return.
But above all, he wished Zosimos was there to comfort him.
Pyro, I think you singlehandedly made Survamne a popular ship.
hnnnnng im so proud
tbqh it’s prob mostly just bc of the “survamne is skarso” joke and I’m still not sure I would call it ‘popular’ but hey it has more traction now than it ever did before hhh
( @sno-leopard sorry for the delay. Anyway, blease accept this humble offer, O Survamne God.)
Zosimos liked their movie nights, those nights when they sat together on the couch, leaning against each other, a thick blanket wrapped around them. The amnesiac’s serene presence next to him and the TV’s quiet voices helped him to relax, and the survivor definitely welcomed the chance to sleep peacefully for once.
He wasn’t certain about the exact moment when watching movies with Whitaker became a vital part of their routine. Perhaps it was after the fifth film they watched together, the one he mostly slept through, only to wake up to Whitaker humming along to the song that played as the credits rolled. Or maybe it was after they watched The Room and Whitaker got the hiccups because he was laughing too hard.
In any case, no matter when they started… he hoped they would last long.
Summary: Basil Eaton (Amnesiac) reminisces on an old friend.
Read on AO3
The room was dingy and reeked of alcohol. Its acrid, boozey scent worked its way through Basil’s soul, staining his thoughts, his mind, his very awareness. A dim, neon sign flickered subtly against the window - reversed, for the outside world, it read “DRINKS!,” hot pink and devoid of any real human character.
The gloomy air of the bar left Basil nothing to reminisce on. Devoid of a muse, his mind wandered, dredging up acquaintances he should have forgotten long ago. That was when he remembered Antonio’s face, dark and hard-edged from tribulations and grief. Although he was young, the man looked to be a thousand years old; his likeness had been weathered by time and work and despair, shadowed wrinkles etched delicately around his scarred features. Despite his gruff exterior, Antonio Ramirez had about him a gentle demeanor, the remnants of that loving father from so long ago, destroyed by the flames of time. Basil had never known anyone as kind as Antonio, not that he could remember.
He wheezed in the sour air. Even Irvine’s pub had never smelled this rank. Antonio, he recalled, hated alcohol, absolutely despised it — the man shuddered if he so much as heard of it in passing conversation. Once, at the pub, Basil had offered to spike his daily lemonade — Antonio then left, saying nothing, and didn’t return for a week.
That was before he really knew Antonio, back when he was just a waiter for a customer. That was before they lived together, loved together, lied together, and before that one fateful night that shattered the illusion and stained Basil’s life with blood.
Now, knowing the truth, Basil realized he could never face his lover ever again.
The night ticked on, in that pungent bar, and had one walked in they would have found a lone, well-dressed man, food gone cold and face streaked with tears, too ruined and cowardly to truly accept his raw, harsh reality.
The Survivor and Amnesiac egg the Mayor’s house every Thursday night but no one suspects them. The Jailor knows because he participates whenever he forgets to jail.
we'll heal, together @survamne - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
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