Because it’s happened to us on a trek, if you see abandoned clothes, stop and search for anyone nearby. Late-stage hypotherima causes a thing called paradoxical undressing where the person feels too hot and starts taking their clothes off.
When the whumpee starts getting hypothermic on a mission in a cold, snowy area, but they try to push through it without telling their teammates, because they haven’t been on the team very long and they don’t want to be an inconvenience. One of their teammates noticing just how much the whumpee is shivering, and telling the team leader that the whumpee needs shelter and warmth. The team leader deciding it’s time to find shelter for the night, and as soon as they’ve found shelter, going over to the whumpee and asking if they’re ok. The whumpee trying to deny that anything’s wrong, but being so cold and out of it that their leader simply ignores them and leads them to sit down. The rest of the team helping the leader get the whumpee situated in the leader’s arms, and then wrapping the two in a blanket. The whumpee leaning into the team leader’s touch almost involuntarily, too cold to stop themself, and the leader gently scolding them about hiding how cold they were as they hold them close, trying to share as much warmth as possible.
When the whumpee’s team goes to rescue them, and they find them curled up in the corner of a cold cell, shivering. Their teammates immediately rushing to the whumpee, and one of their teammates pulling off their jacket to wrap around them. The whumpee leaning into their teammate’s touch, seeking out warmth, and the strongest teammate scooping them up and cradling them close. The whumpee clinging to them almost desperately, and their teammates rushing them out of there so they can get them somewhere warm and safe.
Whumpee’s teeth chatter despite all efforts to silence them, and they pull their jacket tighter around them. “I can’t get warm,” they tell Teammate, shivering uncontrollably.
“Neither can I,” they whisper back, but shed their jacket and wrap it over Whumpee’s shoulders anyway.
“I can’t stay awake anymore.” Whumpee’s words are raspy in the wind, but final nonetheless. They lean against Caretaker, not hearing their words of encouragement and eventually, begging. Everything is soft and quiet for the first time, and the world fades away.
Patton was lost. He was lost, and scared, and alone, and cold. It was snowing, out, and he didn’t have his coat, his gloves, his hat. He was lost alone in the woods.
He shivered harder, at that thought, tears slipping down his face as he stumbled over a tree root, too slow to catch himself, as he fell over into the snow. It quickly soaked through his shirt, his pants. He realized he didn’t have his shoes on at all, which might explain why he was finding it so hard to move, to keep moving.
He didn’t know why, he needed to keep moving, he just knew that he had to. That’s what mama had said. She’d told him to run, to keep moving, to get as far away as he could, and to not look back, no matter what.
He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he knew it was bad. Mama had rushed him out the door, she’d been crying, she’d hugged him and told him she loved him. He’d heard shouting, heard screaming, smelled smoke, but his mom hadn’t let him see, ushering him into the woods outside the back door with the instructions to flee.
And now he was lost, alone, scared, fallen in the snow, in the woods, all alone, with no idea of how to get home, with the sinking feeling that home wouldn’t be there, even if he somehow managed to find his way back.
He started sobbing. He couldn’t help it. He wanted his mother, he wanted his father, he wanted to be home, sitting in front of the fire, mama humming a soft song to lull him to sleep as she knitted, papa coming in from chopping wood, scooping him up and spinning around until he was dizzy and giggling, he wanted to be back in their cozy little house on the edge of the village, on the edge of the woods, curled up and warm and happy.
But mama had told him to keep moving, keep going, so he forced himself back to his feet, though they were numb, and his legs were hard to move, and his breath was cold, his chest tight, but he forced it all to work, somehow, and he kept trudging forwards.
…
He finally fell, shaking and shivering, so cold he couldn’t even feel it anymore, against the base of a huge tree, if he were more aware, he’d marvel at the size, but his head felt weird and fuzzy, and the world felt distant and he felt so, so small.
He curled tight, not caring about the snow seeping through his clothing, the ice crystals forming against his skin, the snow already starting to pile atop him as it fell. He could feel his tears freezing against his face, could feel the numbness creeping through him, knew that was bad, that he shouldn’t stop moving, but he didn’t care. He was so tired. All he wanted to do was sleep. How bad could that be? Mama always tucked him in for naps, when he was sleepy at home. Maybe if he just thought of the snow as a blanket, he could sleep for a little bit, and keep walking later. That sounded nice.
The cold wasn’t feeling so cold anymore, either. He was starting to feel almost cozily warm, almost like he was curled back up at the fireplace. Almost like he was snuggled against mama, under his favorite blanket, listening to her stories. That was nice. He missed her.
“mama…” He whimpered softly, curling tighter against the sobs wracking his small frame.
“what in the name of gaia…” He hadn’t noticed the person approaching. Hadn’t heard the footsteps, but at the voice, he managed to blearily open his eyes, though his vision was blurry and clouded, specks of ice sticking to his lashes, coating his lids. He gasped and drew back, bumping against the bark of the tree, in the face of the being before him.
They looked like a large owl. They had the scaly legs and talons of a raptor, but a human torso and face, though instead of hair, he had dark, tawny feathers, small white ones outlining his widow’s peak and tracing his hairline. And instead of a mouth and nose, he had a dark black beak. He could see tawny wings stretching out behind the being, speckled lightly with black, though the being had human arms as well. A spirit, of some kind, a spirit of the forest. A spirit of death, according to the legends.
“P-please… please d-don’t h-urt me….” He stuttered out, breath heaving and shaking, the cold scorching his lungs, fear making his heart hammer in his chest, his tongue feel like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth. The being crouched before him, and he shook, closing his eyes. He heard the figure make a soft cooing noise, and held his breath.
“It’s alright, nestling. I do not mean to cause you any harm. You must have traveled a long time, to get this far and deep into the forest.” The spirit’s voice was low and soft, steady and sure, and he found himself nodding.
“y-yeah. Mama s-said… mama said to r-run. T-to k-keep running. S-so I d-did. But I don’t know my way b-back and… and I think something bad happened. S-something really, really bad. And I’m scared-“ He broke off, voice wavering as it fell into a sob that tore at his throat, and he heard the spirit make another sound, this one sounding like a soft clack from his beak, as if unsure what to do. “I’m scared that something really, really bad h-happened to h-home.” He finished, swiping at his eyes, though his hands were clumsy and stiff.
“You did a good job, listening to her. It sounds like she is very brave, and very smart, and so are you, to have kept going this long.” The spirit hesitated again, before he heard him shifting, settling down onto the forest floor, peeking his eyes open, he saw him a good foot or so away, dark eyes speckled with gold and silver looking at him carefully. “My name is Logan. May I ask what yours is, little one?”
“P-patton. I’m s-seven.” He answered, shivering once more, feeling his eyes slip closed despite himself.
“Patton. You’ve been out here a long time, without any proper protection from the cold. I would like to take you back to my nest, to get you warmed up and safe. After that we can try and find your home. Is that alright?” His mind played over the thousand stories his mother had told him, of spirits whisking away children, never to be seen again, of fae swapping them out for changelings in the middle of the night, of will-o-the-wisps leading travelers astray, only to get them so turned around and lost they died in the woods.
But… but Logan seemed nice. And he didn’t have anywhere else to go.
“Y-you pr-omise?” He asked, head drooping, unable to keep it upright as he felt himself losing hold of awareness, that warm tingling back in his limbs.
“I promise.” He felt arms scoop him up, and he gasped, because they were so hot! So very, very hot, after so long in the snow and the wet and the ice, and he nearly cried, at how nice it felt, curling tight against Logan, feeling soft downy feathers through the thin flowing fabric that covered his torso, nuzzling against them with a happy little sigh.
“I’m going to fly now, all right? It might feel a little strange, but I promise you’re perfectly safe. I’ve got you.” Patton didn’t respond, and Logan panicked, looking down at the now unconscious child in his arms. “Patton. Patton, can you hear me?” A small stirring of his limbs, but not enough, no awareness, and the poor thing’s lips were blue, his face so pale, his breath so slow and laboured. Hypothermia, obviously.
The best thing he could do was get back to the roost as quickly as possible, and start slowly warming him up. He just had to hold on long enough to make it back, and the wind of the flight would not help in preserving the little warmth Patton had left.
He quickly stripped off his shirt, wrapping the billowy fabric softly but firmly around Patton, holding the boy close to his chest, shielding him as much as he could with his arms, hoping the soft, fluffy downy feathers that lightly covered his chest would be enough to insulate him until they got home.
“It’s all right, Patton. I’ve got you.” One last adjustment, and he leapt off the ground, his powerful wings flapping hard to gain near vertical altitude, the climb much easier once he cleared the treetops and could spiral upwards, soaring high above the woods, towards home.
…
He alit on the edge of the cliff, glancing down at the child in his arms. His heat beat was slow and weak, his breath sporadic and shallow, and he cursed, passing through the illusory wall that led into his aerie.
It was a large cavern, but it never got cold, thanks to his influence. The ceiling sparkled with shining moonstones, and a large fireplace was carved into one wall of the space. He had a perch in one corner, along with a soft pile of furs, a desk against the wall. The real treasure was the books, the shelves lined and lined with books. He scoured the world for them, collecting them, fascinated by these testaments to human creativity and ingenuity, though a fair share of them were his own journals and scientific notations.
“Logan! Took you long enough, I’ve been waiting for ages!” He jumped at the voice, before ruffling his feathers, annoyance coursing through him as he glanced at the fire spirit, who currently had taken the form of a shimmering, scarlet dragon. Then he realized his luck, that Roman was here, a being with the power of fire, of warmth.
“Here. You need to warm him up, slowly. His core temperature is far too low, and a sudden change could do more harm than good. Make sure to rub his fingers and toes, to get circulation back into them, those are the areas that are most likely to succumb to hypothermia.” He explained quickly, Roman instantly shifting into a more human form as Logan placed the bundle in his arms, before hopping off across the space, to his herb storage.
It took Roman a moment, to realize what exactly he was holding. The little thing was bundled up tight in Logan’s shirt, but when he pulled it down his heart nearly stopped.
“Body heat is the best! You should take that off of him, it’s only hindering progress at this point!” Logan called, rummaging through his cupboards. Still in shock, Roman did as he was told, inhaling sharply.
A child. A human child.
“What… how… Logan!” He screeched, stilling as the child shifted slightly in his arms, curling closer to him, his thumb slipping into his mouth. Oh Gaia, the little guy was adorable, and he made sure his heat was softly surrounding him, slowly warming him up as he absently rubbed at his hands. “What are you doing with a human child!?” He hissed, Logan coming back with bandages and a soothing cream, that he started gently rubbing into the boy’s skin, instructing Roman to sit down with him, as he started rubbing his arms and legs, to get circulation going once more.
“I felt a call in my territory and found him all alone and more than half frozen. His village was attacked and ransacked, his mother managed to sneak him into the woods before the raiders reached their home and told him to run. I couldn’t just leave him there, Roman.” Roman sighed, brushing back the kid’s curly chestnut hair, noting some color was starting to come back to his face.
“No. no, I suppose you couldn’t. Is there any chance…” He trailed off at the shake of Logan’s head, dark eyes a bit clouded, as he glanced up at Roman.
“They’re gone. No survivors, except him, I suppose. I… I don’t know, how I’m going to be able to tell him.” Logan hissed as he got to Patton’s feet, wincing at the state of them.
The bottoms were completely torn and bloodied, the toes themselves turned a dark, angry purple, and he took a deep breath, knowing those would be terribly bruised and incredibly painful, if they came back from their exposure. He started slowly massaging warmth back into them, looking up at a soft cry from Patton, who’s eyes were fluttering uneasily, holding his breath as they opened.
“Patton. It is all right. Do you remember me?” He asked softly, those light blues locking onto him immediately.
“Lo-logan.” He whispered, and Logan nodded, smiling.
“Yes. Very good, Patton. We’re at my home, right now. We’re getting you warmed up, all right? My friend Roman is helping.”
“Hello there, little prince. Logan has been telling me just how brave you must be, to make it so far in the woods by yourself.” Roman murmured, once again brushing a hand through the child’s hair, his eyes already drifting shut.
“H-hurts. I h-hurt.” Patton wheezed out, tears dripping down his face, and Roman let out a low breath, stroking them away with his thumb.
“I know, little prince. But that’s a good thing, alright? That means your body is waking up from it’s nap in the cold. It means you’re going to be okay.” Patton was trembling, but he nodded.
“O-ok.”
“Patton. This is important. Can you wiggle your toes for me? It might hurt, but it’s very important.” Patton bit his lip, focusing hard, whimpering as more tears fell, but after a long moment, all ten of his toes curled and uncurled.
“Good, that was very, very good, Patton. Thank you, so much.” Logan encouraged, squeezing the kid’s hand once, though he had already slipped back into unconsciousness. Carefully, he finished loosely bandaging Patton’s feet, sweating against the low level heat emenating from Roman, as he scooped Patton back into his arms, nestling him close against his down, settling so Roman was pressed against his side, warmth encasing the nestling.
He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Patton. Every inhale and exhale filled him with relief, as they became longer and steadier, every solid thump of his heart reassuring him, every small movement of his eyes behind their lids making him wonder what he was dreaming of, hoping it was pleasant.
“Logan?” Roman asked, shaking him out of his thoughts, gaze meeting the concerned eyes of his friend. He let out a shaky breath, shaking his head.
“He’s so… small, Roman. So fragile. What am I to do with him?”
“well… you could always keep him.” Roman suggested, voice unusually even. Logan let out a sharp sqwuak, staring at Roman.
“Roman. I cannot simply keep a child. He is human, firstly. Secondly… me!? Raising a nestling!? I don’t know the first thing about caring for one, and this is hardly a safe place for one so little and unable to fly! He… I can’t possibly… what… Roman!” He sputtered, quieting instantly as Patton curled tighter in his arms, making a small whine, tiny hand clenching his feathers. He can feel his heart rate speeding and breath gasping. A nightmare.
Instantly, he’s fussing over the child, stroking his hair, churring softly, a deep rumble in his chest that soothes nestlings, and seems to work just as well on the human, as he settles moments later, though his grip doesn’t loosen.
“not a word.” He threatens, feeling Roman’s smirk without having to look up, unable to look away from Patton’s soft, sleeping face. He takes a deep breath. “he needs humans, Roman. He needs his own kind. I can find a good family for him, a good home. Somewhere stable, that can provide a safe, structured life for him. I cannot in good conscience simply keep him, Roman, no matter my own feelings towards the matter.” He looked up at Roman’s hand on his shoulder, his face serious for once.
“I know you’ll do what’s best, Logan. Just… consider that maybe that means staying with you. Ok?” He nodded, ruffling his feathers.
“I will consider it, Roman.” A brief silence passed by, both lost in their own thoughts, before Logan rested his hand against Patton’s forehead.”
“He’s sufficiently warmed. Would you mind, grabbing some of the furs?”
“Of course, Lo.” Roman swept over, picking out the softest one, carefully wrapping Patton in it, holding the boy in his arms for a moment, before passing him back to Logan. “I’ll leave you to get some rest. Try not to fret yourself to death, Hoot Hoot.” Roman swept out of the cave before Logan could respond, though his indignant spluttering echoed behind him.
…
Fire.
Fire and smoke and screams, everything was burning, and it was so hot, he was trapped in the flames.
He could hear mama calling for him, scared and voice shaky, and he tried to call out, to tell her he was ok, but the smoke choked his lungs, burned his throat, made his eyes water as the flames grew higher. He heard her voice fading, and he tried to chase it, tried to barrel around the flames, screeching as his pants caught aflame for a moment, before he patted them out, trying to run, though every breath choked him further, and he couldn’t breath, and the flames were closing in and the roof was creaking, and he looked up in time to see a fiery orange beam creak and snap, popping with embers, crashing down, down atop him, and he screamed.
…
“Hush, little one. I have you, little one, I have you.” He was crying, he realized, crying and sobbing, and as he realized that his scream choked off into a gasping, wheezing inhale, the air still burning his lungs despite the lack of smoke.
“Th-they’re gone. They’re all g-gone, aren’t they?” he sobbed out, feeling the hesitation in the answer, which only confirmed it, really, as he shook harder, sobs tearing at his throat. He felt the arms pull him closer, rocking him slowly, something soft and warm pressing in from a sides, but it wasn’t hot, like the fire, it wasn’t trapping and enclosing and crushing him, it was nice and safe and good.
“I’m sorry, Patton. I truly am. It is senseless and cruel and no one should have the right, to take them from you. But they would be so proud, Patton. That’s all they wanted, was for you to keep going, and they fought so that could happen. So you would keep going. And you did. You’ve done so well, little one.” Logan murmurs, heart wrenched in two as Patton shifts in his arms, hugging him around the middle, face buried against his feathers, and he tucks his head against Patton’s, nuzzling his cheek, churring once again, letting Patton cry himself out, letting him grieve, acting as a steady, solid presence to let him know he was safe.
“I m-miss her.” Patton whimpered, and his own breath caught, hugging the nestling tighter, wings wrapping closer.
“I know. And it won’t ever stop, that missing. But it will get easier.” He replied. “I know of some humans, in the next valley over, that would love to have a child, will take good care of you, keep you safe and loved and protected. You’ll be alright.” He uncurled from around Patton as he felt him shifting against him, those blue eyes peering up at him, a frown on his lips, set in his eyes.
“Why… why can’t I stay? Am I not… not g-good, enough? Do you not w-want me?” Patton asked, pulling away and looking down, and oh, how his heart was breaking, absolutely shattering, with fondness for this lost child, how had he already gotten so attached?
“Of course you are, Patton, you’re so good, and incredibly brave and strong and resilient. Of course I want you. But you should be with other humans. It’s dangerous here, for you, there’s so much that could harm you, and I couldn’t stand it if you got injured on my account.” He answered softly, crouching down before Patton, who refused to meet his eyes.
“But I was with people, and I got hurt, already. And… and I kn-know, you’d keep me safe. Y-you’re good, I can tell. Mama always said I was the best judge of character.
“Patton-“
“Please? Please let me stay? I’ll do anything you tell me, I’ll be so good, and quiet, you won’t even know I’m here, I’ll… I’ll…” Logan cut him off, sweeping him into an all encompassing hug, cooing softly, throwing his whole heart into it, feeling Patton bury his head against his shoulder.
“alright. If you’re sure that’s what you really want, I won’t force you to leave, Patton. But you need to know this. Spending so much time around me, around the magic of nature spirits, is going to change you. Over time, it will make you less and less human, more and more… other. At some point, there will be no going back.” He said seriously, making sure Patton was listening, understanding what he was saying. His lip trembled, but he nodded, sharp determination and hope burning in his blue eyes.
“ok.” He said seriously, before tilting his head. “Do you think I’ll grow feathers? Could I get wings, like yours?” Logan chuckled, ruffling Patton’s hair.
“Possibly, with time. Until then, I’ll just have to fly you around. Now, let’s get you off those feet, they’re still healing, and I don’t want you to reopen anything.” Patton sighed, but flopped onto the ground, pulling a fur around him, slightly dejected. He clearly wanted to explore, bubbling with energy, and Logan smiled. “How about I read for you? Will that make sitting still a little more manageable?” He asked, Patton nodding excitedly. He selected a book from the shelf, one of fairytales, before settling on the floor next to Patton, who immediately snuggled up next to him, pressing against his side, under his wing, as Logan began to read.
Soon, his eyes were slipping shut, a huge yawn escaping him, and Logan tucked his wing a little tighter as Patton fell asleep, slumping against his side, hands curling into his feathers. Still, Logan continued to read, not wanting to stop, lest nightmares mar the little one’s rest.
Oh, Roman was going to be so pleased, and not at all surprised, by this turn of events. And he hated to admit it, but he was happy, as well. He knew he would already give anything, for Patton, and he was so excited, to watch him grow. To see what he would grow into. And nothing, nothing would harm his nestling. Not ever again.
As an experienced climber (Naomi Watts) ascends Mt. Washington, she turns back before she reaches the summit as a huge blizzard approaches. But on her way down, she encounters a lone, stranded man, and takes it upon herself to get them both down the mountain before nightfall arrives and they succumb to the storm. Based on a true story.
OK, so I haven’t been able to make myself write anything on hypothermia, and none of the alt prompts are grabbing me, so you get a true story. Fair warning, it doesn’t have a happy ending. (This is one reason I much prefer fiction.)
TW/CW: RL death (not graphic), drug use mention
So, you may remember that this past summer, I came across a dead body in a lake. Definitely a first for me. Before 2021, I’d never seen a deceased person outside of a funeral home.
So it was weird when it happened again, seven months later.
This was in late December. I was in my kitchen early one morning, making tea, and I gradually became aware of flashing blue and red lights outside my house. I peeked through the curtains to see what was out there.
Answer: several police cars and an ambulance. I was alarmed to see a lot of cops walking around my next-door neighbor’s yard. (Next door neighbors are a nice Ukrainian couple and their kids.)
A couple of paramedics wheeled a stretcher between my house and theirs, behind a hedge. I waited anxiously. When they came out, the guy on the stretcher was no one I recognized. Definitely not a neighbor. He appeared to be wearing a pair of undershorts and nothing else.
Remember, I said this was in late December. The temperature outside was near freezing.
Did you know some ambulances carry a portable machine that does chest compressions? I’d never seen one before. A handy device; I’m sure it saves wear and tear on your paramedics. The machine steadily thumped away as they loaded the stretcher into the ambulance. Eventually the ambulance left, but not quickly, and not with sirens. After a while, the cops also departed.
Later that day, I saw Ukrainian Mom in her yard talking to Nice Retired Guy who lives in the house on the other side of her. Of course I had to join them.
It turned out, Ukrainian Mom had gone outside that morning with their dog (a gorgeous Samoyed, naturally) and she’d found the guy lying on the ground between my house and hers. No one she recognized either. Somewhat scandalized, she told me that a pair of pants had been hanging on my fence, before the cops collected them. I noted that it’s a known phenomenon in late-stage hypothermia for a person to start taking clothes off. It’s called “paradoxical undressing.”
A few days later, I heard through unofficial channels that the guy was declared dead at the hospital. The cops knew him as a frequent drug user, and the most likely scenario was that he’d been in an altered mental state and just wandered off into the night. There’s a small suburban nature preserve behind my house, so he might have gotten lost in the woods. Still, there are houses all around it. It should have been easy to find help, if he’d ever been in a state to realize he needed help.
Just a strange, sad case. And weird that I encountered two victims of death by misadventure in one year.
Brand new series that I’ll start posting now but no name yet.
—-
CW:Child soldier, Dehumanization, Human Experimentation, Strict Training, Child Abuse, Enirvomental Whump, Language warning, Organized Crime, Conditioning, Derogatory Language, Underage Whumpee [15-17]. (Everyone is an ass)
Water dripped down their back and the droplets shook along the body that shivered.
The cold was a thing that knew how to kill and it killed well. It took you slowly and painfully when you think you have the better of it. A cruel punishment of nature.
The cold was going to take them next.
They were sat in a chair in the middle of the winter morning. A lesson was to be learnt by them sitting here. Their fingers twitched every now and then as if to remind them how stupid this task was.
Azrael rocked their head back and shut their eyes. They imagined they were inside of that house where the older man sat in all of his bitterness.
Their teeth chattered against their will with their lips that began to turn into a sneer. They were naked with the exception of some black boxers seated in the middle of nowhere to have their butt frozen off.
They screamed a curse and squeezed down on the seat’s sitting sides. Azrael started to think the old man actually wanted to kill them. Turn them into an ice cube and hand them over to his boss.
He would be killed for it but it didn’t really seem like he had anything to live for.
As they continue to sit there a sudden hard warmth spread across their cheek. The driving force turned their head to the side and stung.
They had been backhanded.
The old man was there with a bucket of water in hand and a glare. Oh, was Azrael’s only thought as the water came down on them. Their body pulsed and shook like they has been shocked.
Maybe being shocked would be better than this. They look up at the Major. What they insisted on being called, not sir because that’s what to low for him.
His salt and peppered hair were shaved down to give him a matching look to Azrael. While their hair was not greyed, it seem to make everything colder. They hicked and heaved as they scowled at Major. Their stomach pulled in itself and out.
The man stared blankly at them before he turned away from them and shouted.
“Don’t hold your breath or I’ll tie to down like a mutt, bitch.”
Azrael watched as he made his way down to the house and closed the door. They snapped their head back and hope their stupidness will carry them for a little while longer.
The flamenco photographer, René Robert, dies frozen before the indifference of passers-by after suffering a fall in the middle of Paris.
René Robert captured the magic of Camarón, the heel tapping of Manolo Marín and the transience of Paco de Lucía. The French-Swiss photographer who made history through the images he took of flamenco, and who He died at the age of 84.
An artist who, for more than 50 years, captured the essence of flamenco art, in black and white images that exude art and aesthetics. However, although his life was based on lights, fringes and celebration, his death has been tragic, as he froze to death on a main street in Paris, after suffering a fall and losing consciousness. As reported by the journalist Michel Mompontent, Robert’s close friend, died after lying on the ground for several hours.
Robert went for a walk after dinner on Turbigo Street, located in the heart of Paris, around 9 at night. During this path, he collapsed unconscious on the sidewalk, and remained there until 6:30 in the morning (He dies for nine hours on the sidewalk!) when a homeless man called an ambulance to help him. However, he was in an extremely serious condition, with head injuries and severe hypothermia, for which he was transferred to the emergency room, but did not survive.
Does anyone else find it oddly cute that humans naturally generate heat? We’re like little space heaters! Blankets and coats don’t actually provide warmth, they just trap our own heat and direct it back at us. Isn’t that cute?
Anyway, freeze your whumpees. Make them huddle for warmth in an icy cave or a freezer. Give them hypothermia. Trap them under ice. Make them so delirious that they think they’re hot and try to take their parka off.
Make the caretaker feel their skin and shudder because they’re ice cold. Make snow fall on their skin and not melt.
Make it obvious the moment their breath stops coming out in white clouds in front of their face.
Trigger/Content Warnings:NSFW, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, Hypothermia trope, reader is selective mute and uses sign, reader also works at a bar, pre-established relationship, first aid gone sexual, Yanfei has some reptilian/adepti traits so like ¼ monster fucking maybe??, cunillingus(receiving), fingering(receiving)
It was a cruel trek from the bar you worked at back to your home in Liyue and unfortunately, your transportation options did not include the niceties of “weather permitting” options. In your hands was a neatly wrapped box of liquors your boss had given you for being such a charming worker despite being of so little words, especially while working a holiday shift. The bottles clanged in an obnoxious high-pitched clamor when you stepped up the cobblestone stairs to the street next to yours, causing your sound-sensitive self to flinch violently. Unfortunately this only caused the bottles to rattle more and you internally cursed yourself at becoming the source of such a loathsome ruckus. Your jaw unconsciously grits as you change your grasp of the box.
It was unfairly cold this year. You didn’t expect the temperature to drop so severely and you hated the involuntary shivers that rippled through your body at the windchill. It had to be significantly below freezing…
You encouraged yourself internally that things would be fine once you got home to your girlfriend. She always had this wonderful habit of greeting you with a generous and loving smile that warmed your heart. She was also the fortunate holder of a vision- a Pyro vision, specifically. Normally you would be scared to interact with someone who could probably burn your house down if they sneezed the wrong way, but Yanfei was different. She always executed the utmost care regarding her vision and knew the local law by heart. That second part was no surprise considering her career in law, but her personality wasn’t the stereotypical droll of a lawyer. She never seemed focused on the Mora of the job, but rather wanting to keep the area where you two lived a peaceful area. When she had told you about her ideals months prior, you felt your heart warm at the thought. She’s beautiful inside andout…
Yanfei also never minded your silence. While there were awkward moments, she never seemed to hold it against you or address them. Rather instead she picked up sign language to talk with you.
“You can speak with this, right? If not I can figure something else out,” the pinkette grinned at you, starting to sign a broken sentence. You, who’d known sign for a couple years at this point, tried to disguise your smile.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
You didn’t have the heart to inform her that instead of what she meant to sign, she signed “How was fuck?”
You smiled unconsciously remembering your girlfriend’s inquisitive face and how it warped once you wrote to her what she actually said. Her eyes widened significantly past her normally sleepy expression and her hands shot up in an apologetic gesture, as if she were afraid she offended you. You loved that woman so much.
The area around you blurred a bit. It felt as if you hadn’t had enough to eat yet today. Only a bit longer until you’d make it home, you could do this. Think positively! It honestly wasn’t that bad out.
… how long had you been out in this weather? You vaguely realized your arms were locked around the box of booze in a vice you don’t think you could easily move. Fortunately your blood still ran hot in your legs and you kept walking.
Your hands grew paler during your walk and the edges of your knuckles burnt an uncanny red, like a sunburn. Your legs kept moving.
The breath began to burn going in and out of your windpipe. Your pulse hammered harder. Yet your legs kept moving.
Each crunch of your feet crushing snow beneath you spurred you on with the thought that you would make it home soon to your girlfriend, that she would greet you with that smile from her desk then wrap you up in her arms in a gentle hug and you’d spend the rest of your holiday with the woman you loved most…
A door was thrown open and you were abruptly pulled inside. You vaguely recognized the lights around you before the sound of the box in your hands crashing to the floor nearly stopped your heart. Your head became too warm and mushy to understand what was going on, and your vision blurred even more severely.
╞══════════╡
Blearily, your eyes opened to the view of your living room ceiling. The first notable thing was how much your knuckles, nose and fingertips stung. It was like they were horribly scraped, though upon lifting your hand to examine, you found there were no such wounds. Rather instead they were just a chapped red and slightly flaky. Your gaze followed your hand and you became slowly aware that you were no longer wearing your shirt, instead being as naked as the day you were born. You glanced down at the rest of your body and the sight before you caused your heart to leap into your throat.
First,yes, you were naked past your top.
Second, Yanfei was curled on top of you, sleepy face mushed against your chest and ambiently providing warmth to thaw you out.
Thirdly, there was a blanket over the two of you, most likely to trap the heat Yanfei was producing for you.
Fourth, your beloved girlfriend was definitely not wearing clothes. You could spy the tops of her breasts and the bare smooth skin of her arms as they peeled out from under the blanket, but otherwise, the blanket hid both your modesty quite well.
When her head tilted absentmindedly in her sleep, you felt a sharp jab. You glanced at Yanfei again, noticing what you thought was a hair accessory or some weird form of jewelry was poking you mercilessly. It didn’t bend like jewelry and it was so hard…? The hell is that…?
You tentatively traced the oddly keratin-like appendage poking you. The smooth texture reminded you of when your family would hunt and clean Cervids- the way the antlers would feel in your hand as you cleaned them as a long-lasting reward from your kill.
As your thumb traced over the ivory once more, sleepy teal green eyes blinked awake. Upon seeing your conscious face, Yanfei smiled gratefully.
“Oh, thank everything… you’re okay.” She leaned her head into your touch, unconsciously warming you even more as she gazed lovingly into your eyes.
You didn’t speak, but signed “I wasn’t aware you had antlers.”
Your signing was slow and deliberate so as to be easy to interpret for a beginner. She grinned cheekily.
“I thought you knew. They don’t move around, they’re attached to my head.”
“You act like I have solid logical thinking.”
She laughs at your comment, then nuzzles her cheeks further into your chest.
“I was so worried when you came in looking the way you did. You were all frost nipped and out of it, so I did what any reasonable person would do and started treating you. You’re lucky I know that much.” Her closing comment sounded like it should’ve had bite, but her tone was simply caring and pleased at the warmth of your body against hers, not unlike a lazy cat who was spoiled by their owner.
“You’re naked underneath the blanket.”
“So I am,” she replied casually, as if it were normal for you two to be cuddling naked. It wasn’t, for clarification.
Your face heated up as her whole body now shifted against you, savoring the feeling. You definitely felt the peaks of her nipples against your chest, the smooth firmness of her belly, and the supple flesh of her thighs which were interspersed with occasional patches of hard yet smooth-surfaced scales. She watched you with an unwavering affection.
“[Name], I want to do things with you, but you should really rest. Your body temperature dipped quite a bit… So why don’t you let me take care of you while you recover?” She cooed and stroked the side of your cheek. She never sacrificed tenderness for her point with you, though- she knew to always say her piece but also express unsaid love if she couldn’t say it in that sentence alone.
Trusting your girlfriend completely, you nod your consent.
Her upper body dips below the covers and she traces a path down your sternum, then re-traces it with her whip-like tongue. She left a burning trail between the racks of you rib cage, causing a building ache to throb deep in your gut.
You lifted the blanket to watch Yanfei as she hovered above your sex, her emerald eyes glossing over each fold and crease. You shivered in muted pleasure when she ran a finger through the dampness that had just began to pool.
“Your reactions are so cute,” she puffed out a hot breath, only causing your body to writhe further and a needy whimper left your lips. Your face grew redder at the sound you’d made and, as if synchronized, Yanfei flushed more as well. She’d never heard your needy sounds, but now that she’d heard you for the first time there was no way she could go back.
Her adept and thin fingers skimmed your outer labia and dipped in to savor the soft flesh of your clit. She stroked slow deliberate circles and watched you with a confident yet sweet smile.
You keened and your hips stuttered at the suffocating arousal she was weaving into your consciousness. She pulled her fingers from your over-sensitive nub and instead pressed further down, sinking a finger in your expecting cunt. The movement was slick and with little resistance. Yanfei cooed into your heat.
“So good for me, you’re nice and ready…” with those last words, she tilted her head down so her mouth engulfed your sex. Her serpent-like tongue twisted along your clit and her finger moved in balanced and quick pumping motions in and out of you, building up a quick tempo.
Her orchestrated movements controlled your body like a puppet, bringing your whimpers to a wail-like crescendo and building you up to your high. Amidst your whining, you became vaguely aware of how her eyes glowed hungrily beneath you, thriving off of the sounds and movement of your body as if it were her lifeblood.
She crooked her fingers up and began to abuse a ridged spot within you that had you seeing stars. You gripped onto her hair and one of her antlers unconsciously. Your body drew taut with an orgasm at the half-moan she let out. Your breath had been robbed from your lungs blatantly and you laid there, gasping for air as your body shivered in the after-effects.
Yanfei crawled out from under the covers fully, giving you a borderline sly smirk.
“Let’s get you some food and maybe if you’re up for it, you can do me next?” She wiped her mouth against the back of her and, eyes glowing with anticipation.
