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colleendoran · 2 years ago

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An answer

I'm not going to post the question because I don't want the person who asked it to get piled on.

The magical art fairy did not give me a great and grand education that my mommy and daddy paid for.

My parents were poor and at one point homeless. They lived in a pigeon coop. With pigeons.

I was not super popular in school. I was a nerd in the dark days before being a nerd was something people aspired to. I had braces, glasses, bad acne and was a bit chubby. When I no longer had any of these things (well, I still wear glasses, I prefer them to contacts,) people acted like I always looked that way and sailed the seas of success on a wave of appearance advantages.

My parents did not pay for my education. I went to regular school like everyone else. I had one year of college which I attended on academic scholarship, and I majored in business. I had an art class with a professor who almost never showed up. When the scholarship money ran out after one year, I left.

After I'd been a professional artist for more than twenty years, I took an online digital art class at one of those for profit art schools, which was quite a trick on dial up speed, I must say. Shortly after, I realized it was a scam, I contacted the administration to demand my money back. I got it. The school was eventually sued into oblivion and went out of business.

I did manual field labor as a kid, worked in a veterinarian hospital, parked cars, and ran a roller coaster. I picked up dog poop and did volunteer work at the U.S.O. and the AIDS Housing and Education Fund. I worked as a condo association attendant.

I don't know where people get the impression that I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. And it's not like I don't have some advantages. But money and status weren't among them.

Most of the people in comics from my generation come from poverty. Some didn't. But most did.

I am self taught and most of what I learned was from the Famous Artist Course books my mom got as a kid. I was very grateful that my dad invested in a set of encyclopedias for the family when we were still quite poor. I devoured them.

I started sending out portfolio work, story ideas, and resumes at age 12. My first rejection letter was from Random House. I got my first advertising gig when I was about 14-15. The woman who hired me was Linda Wesley Salake.

I met artist Frank Kelly Freas at a science fiction convention I found out about from an advertisement. He was very kind and mentored me. He didn't teach me much about art, but he did teach me a lot about the realities of the art centered life.

I cooked and cleaned house for him after his wife Polly died.

My average income for my first ten years as a professional artist was less than $10,000. And for part of that time, I was not living with my parents. So I supported myself on less than $10,000.

Eventually, I lasted long enough in the arts that I started making some money. Then things got worse. Then they got better. Then they got worse. Then they got better.

Advantages, contacts, ability - none of that is distributed equally. But if you can, make art because it is something that means something to you, and it gives you joy.

And we all deserve some joy.

If it was just about the money, I'd have ditched this bug bin long ago.

That's all.

#comics #art #art centered life

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electricskelecomics · 5 months ago

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Draw The Squad: Irratino Edition

Beach days: love 'em or hate 'em, they're definitely a unique time.

Around three weeks ago (give or take) I started working on a love letter to the Murdle fandom. I grabbed as many Irratino designs as I could (one per creator) and threw them all in a Draw-the-Squad template. Today, I am finally done.

This was my first time doing a Draw-the-Squad, so hopefully I did it right! I also wanted to challenge myself to represent the styles of everyone I put in there: that includes line color and shading. I think it adds to just how creative everyone here is: all of our designs look so different from one another, even though we have the same info to go off of.

If you didn't see your design, then I'm sorry. Eleven characters is a lot to work with, and I really tried to include everyone I could.

My sources are under the read more, along with a little blurb for each one:

@itzr4v3n. This is a mix of her Gacha design and non-Gacha design. It was too hard to choose!

@coconutvoid. I really hope I did the red outfit justice. I love this design's facial expressions.

@dreaming-mushroom. Super sweet person: when I showed the first WIP to the fan discord they helped me out with the colors.

KitKat (Discord). Pigeon Irratino! I went with Kat's Vol. 2 design: I'm a sucker for scars.

@snozzlefrog: specifically her mermaid AU. A lot of the memes I found early on in my Murdle hyperfixation can be traced back to Snozzlefrog, so I knew I had to put one of her designs in here.

Me! My three-eyed, triangle-headed guy.

@marble-running. The only art of him I could find was on paper, so I decided to emulate that. I think it looks great.

@ruburnz. This is such a unique style, and any excuse I get to pull out the opacity brushes I will eat right up.

@berrypass-de-murdler. I think a goat is a really fun spin on things, and everyone I know just adores the design.

@puffydove. I was told Dove's design has a glitter phone case, and who doesn't love that?

@greenunless. I have this one listed in my file as "Fun Glasses." I LOVE this design.

Draw the Squad Source/Base by @copperyy: https://copperyy.tumblr.com/post/142089297465/happy-april-fools-day-heres-a-draw-the-squad

I really cannot emphasize enough how much I LOVE all of your designs/work. If I did we'd be here all day!

#draw the squad #murdle #inspector irratino #irratino #art #fan art #fanart #am i doing this right?

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merinsedai · 1 month ago

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Rooftops of London snippet

for @dreamlingbingo

Snippet 1/5 for my WIP: The Rooftops of London :)

Square/Prompt: B1: Brainwashing

Title: The Rooftops of London

Rating: T

Ship(s): Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Warnings: n/a

Additional Tags: Second Chance, Mary Poppins AU, yes you read that correctly, Dream is Mary Poppins, Hob is Bert, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus is Good with Kids, popping in and out of paintings, teaparties on the ceiling, Developing Relationships, potential flying of kites, Will Roderick Burgess be redeemed? Is it possible? Who knows, read on and find out, fat pigeons

Summary: In 2025, Dream awaits Death as the Kindly Ones ravage the Dreaming.

In 1910, two young boys send out an advertisement for their perfect nanny.

or, the tale of Dream attempting to Mary Poppins his way out of his 20th century nightmare

Read the first chapter on AO3 here

A scene from Chapter 2, where Dream meets Roderick Burgess (who isn't massively receptive to him for some reason? Dream cures that).

“What in the blazes are you on about, sir?!” Burgess bellows, his face turning a rather interesting shade of puce with indignation and rage. “You think I have the time to deal with these ridiculous shenanigans at this time of the morning?”

It is in fact 8am sharp, which is the exact time ordained by Burgess himself in his own (far less agreeable) job advertisement that he had posted in The Times this Friday last. Dream refrains from pointing this out.

“There are no shenanigans afoot, Mr Burgess,” he says placidly, unfolding the letter in his hands. “As I said, I am here to take up the position of nanny to Alexander and Randall, and I shall require an immediate start.”

“Nanny? Nanny?!” Burgess roars, slamming his fists on the table and levering himself out of his chair. The force of the impact rattles the crockery quite severely, and Dream watches with interest as a soft-boiled egg is jostled clean out of its cup, takes an elliptical course across the table (due, he thinks, to its oval nature) and finally drops to the floor with a decisive splat. Burgess pays it no mind, leaning forward, spittle flying as he rants. Dream turns his attention back to the man.

“- this mockery?! I expect a woman for a woman’s role. Not some namby-pampy dandy, waltzing into my living room declaring he will take the job! What manner of a man forgoes proper work to deal with snotty-nosed brats instead? I tell you, sir, I will have no sissies here! No unnatural milksops looking to fill my sons’ heads with depravity and delusions! I tell you, I WILL NOT HAVE IT! You will leave at once before I summon the sergeant-”

Really, this is growing tiresome already. Dream has had quite enough. Manipulating the Waking is more difficult than the Dreaming, where the world moves at his command; the Waking mind is less malleable, more obdurate- but it is not beyond Dream’s capabilities. A tiny alteration in Burgess’s reality, a shift in his perception, and the man is stopping in mid-flow, eyes glazing over and mouth flapping like a fish for a moment before he refocusses and stares uncomprehendingly at Dream.

“I’m sorry…?” he says, and clears his throat with a loud harrumph to try and cover his confusion. “You were saying, Mr…?”

“Morpheus,” says Dream briskly. “And we were discussing the terms of my employment.”

“We- we were?”

“Just so.”

Burgess stares at Dream for a long moment, still looking a trifle bewildered. Dream bears his regard with untroubled patience. The human does not now see Dream as a woman but neither does he see him as a man. Dream does not care to alter his preferred form to conform to this century’s preconceived notions of normalcy so he has simply made his appearance to be something completely beneath Burgess’s notice. To him, Dream is simply ‘the nanny’, his perceived sex notwithstanding.

And, Dream decides, he will extend this perception to all the adults around him for it will be much less hassle this way. To the children, however, he plans to present his regular form without any added illusions. If he is to form a relationship with them, then he will begin with being his truest human self. Children are, after all, far more accepting of things out of the ordinary and besides, they are much more difficult to fool.

#dreamling #dreamling fanfic #sandman fanfic #dreamling bingo #dreamling bingo 2024

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pwelverum · 21 days ago

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okay i think i speak for everyonw when i say i don’t give a shit if you and your s/o are fucking like for real i do not give a fuck. nobody gives a fuck. why don’t you stop posting about it and why don’t you text them about it or call them about it even or send a letter about it or a carrier pigeon about it since you’re so complicated. i am going to start pulling my hair out. do you want us to throw you a party? congratulations my dear mutual for fucking jakey? you are a faggot and a pointless animal. I really just want to be a warm yellow light that pours all over everyone I love

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okifyouinsist · 21 days ago

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Just thought this was funny but 😏 and 🌙?

for some reason it's always ur asks that i never answer, this has just been brewing here for a few days oops

😏 Are you on discord? No you think you're so funny for this (you are funny, you are hilarious). Funny story I don't actually, I communicate with you via letters. and you still haven't acc returned my pigeon yet so still waiting on that. Sigh I'm not funny yes I have discord.

🌙 How long have you been on tumblr? I've been on tumblr for like. A long time. But I was just a little hoverer unfortunately. I actually started to post in like. July of this year I think??? And omg I'm such a yapper I've already made it to my 1000 posts already so YAY CELEBRATION (this is just more proof as to how chronically online i am)

Anyways tysm for the ask, I still have your norgeant ask rotting away in my drafts, if this gets 4 likes (whoa there im aiming high) I'll get up and finish answering it mwah hope you have a lovely fabulous day/night

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mistle10 · 1 year ago

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Scenes from an Omega's first time | Mallerollo one shot

Pairings: Malleus Draconia/Rollo Flamm

Rating: 🔞🔞🔞

Word count: 2.3k

Content: first time, awkwardness, fluff and smut, omegaverse, omega malleus, alpha rollo, theyre boyfriends, post flower incident, mallerollo, theyre both virgins figuring it out, malleus is shitty at nest building. have you ever seen those pics of the really bad pigeon nests? Its like that

Summary:

"On the other side of the bookshelf, a familiar scent brushed by Malleus’s nose. Almost like clockwork, he felt his face get hot. Who would have guessed that the prince was so easily undone that the mere scent of his boyfriend would send him over the edge?"

__________________☆___________________

Fic under the break!

It hadn't been a very good idea, in hindsight. Traveling to this school, while his heat was so close. Malleus had assumed he would have time, but then again, the fae had only started getting them months ago. He had no clue about his body's natural cycle yet, since he had only just reached the proper height. (This is how lizards work). It was far too embarrassing to talk about with his guardian, so he only did research on his own, but it was so easy to get distracted. While looking for books about heats, H is right next to G, which is the first letter in Gargoyle, which means the books about gargoyles are right there.

On the other side of the bookshelf, a familiar scent brushed by Malleus’s nose. Almost like clockwork, he felt his face get hot. Who would have guessed that the prince was so easily undone that the mere scent of his boyfriend would send him over the edge?

—☆—

In contrast to his usual demeanor, Malleus was flushed and seemed fairly embarrassed as he answered the door. Of course, Rollo was taken aback, and the smell of Malleus’s febrile state instantly made his pants tighten. Not giving him much time to linger there, Malleus stood to the side of his door, inviting the other man inside.

“As per my… letter… Which I am sure you received if you’re here, then you already know whats going on. Surely, I don’t have to explain?” Malleus stated, still awkwardly maintaining eye contact despite the circumstances.

“Listen Malleus Draconia, I don’t know what pleasure you derive from having your lackey send me such a letter in the middle of the daytime, but-”

The silver-haired man’s words were interrupted as Malleus quickly grabbed his arm, pulling him into the room and closing the door in a bold move. He couldn’t have him airing all of this out in the middle of the hallway. Rollo seemed speechless at the gesture, utterly indignant about being manhandled like that. He pulled his arm away, but as soon as he was inside the room, his nostrils flared as the thickening heat scent permeated the air.

“What- what d-do you think you’re…” Rollo covered his nose with his handkerchief, his face flushing completely red. He seemed to have lost his train of thought completely, distracted by the scent of his partner. The thing was, it wasn’t even a particular overreaction. Sharing a heat was a big deal, and the two had only been together for around a few months by now.

“Of course, I’m not twisting your arm to do this, but it would certainly-” Malleus kept looking at him, though Rollo had broken eye contact ages ago, “-be appreciated.”

Rollo could already feel that burning desire starting to spark deep within, and he sighed, accepting the offer, as absurd as it was. After all, it’s not every day that you’re visiting your boyfriend at his school and he goes into heat. After he went back home, he wouldn’t even exactly be sure when he would get to see Malleus again. It would have to be months, and Malleus didn’t really text, so it wasn’t exactly easy to contact him either.

Rollo took a deep breath, and stepped close to the other man, extending his arms and pulling him into a close embrace.

Malleus had never been this close to another man before. He just knew that his scent was driving him wild, and vice versa. Rollo breathed in deeply, face buried against the side of his neck, and his grip on his waist got tighter. The pheromones were intoxicating.

Malleus reached up, his hands tangling in the silver strands of Rollo's hair. Being so coddled, he had never been in such close company with an alpha until now. He understood why.

He was trying to keep his cool in the situation, but the warm feeling was taking over, his mind beginning to cloud. He could hardly think about anything but those uncouth thoughts about the man in front of him.

Rollo was beginning to burn up himself. He didn't want to do anything until he knew he was certain.

"Malleus Draconia," he was trying not to get caught on his words. "Will you g-" he took a moment to try and compose himself. "Will you give yourself to me?”

Malleus looked straight at Rollo’s face, and it was clear in his expression and his eyes that he needed him. “I am yours.” he whispered.

Their lips crashed together again, and heated kisses turned into hands wandering, albeit less boldly than they had both imagined. Awkward pauses and small murmurs sprinkled throughout their ministrations; after all, they were both just getting used to this.

"Are you comfortable? Is this okay?"

"Yes, I don't mind."

—☆—

It wasn't until the back of his legs touched the bed that Malleus realized they had been migrating from the door, and though he didn't want to let go, he retreated into the very small nest. Being away from home, he had to make do with the limited resources he had. He wished he could be at home for an occasion like this, but nothing could be done. He sure as hell wasn't going to ask Lilia for materials- it was embarrassing enough getting Sebek to deliver the envelope to Rollo in the first place.

Malleus sat back in the nest, hands politely folded in his lap. It was only now that Rollo could get a proper look at him, how unraveled he had gotten compared to his natural poise. His shirt buttons were a quarter of the way done already, and he wasn't wearing shoes or a belt. They had all been discarded in his fervor earlier.

Rollo couldn't help the flushed tone of his cheeks, looking away out of habit; he couldn't help but feel endeared by how pathetic the nest was. But realistically, he didn't expect much different from someone who wore the same outfit every single day.

Malleus sighed.

"Flamm. Are you just going to stare?" He asked.

"No, no," Rollo put his handkerchief over his mouth, trying not to laugh. "It's just that I never thought an omega could be bad at nesting." He teased.

Malleus furrowed his brows.

"I can kick you out at any time."

Rollo did laugh then, softly.

"Sorry, sorry. You don't have to get defensive about it. But yes, perhaps now I am going to stare."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Rollo replied, "I just think it's odd. You look so composed and stern normally, but now you're..."

"Yes?"

"You're adorable."

"Flamm!"

For once, Malleus was the one being flustered. As if the current role reversal wasn't enough…

"That was a compliment!" Rollo huffed. "It's just a complete one-eighty. I can't believe this is the man I was so set on destroying." He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing with a bit of amusement. If you looked close enough, the corner of his lips curled up just a bit.

"Well, I reckon its still the same objective here," Malleus said with a completely straight face.

The two were silent for another few moments, before soft laughter echoed throughout the stone room.

—☆—

“Don’t worry, I- I do have a condom.” Rollo stated, hiding his face in his palm. He reached into his wallet, pulling out the telltale shiny wrapper. Being a student council president, of course he felt responsible to carry things like this.

He moved to sit on the bed next to Malleus, the two positioning themselves to spoon comfortably over the covers. Rollo shimmied a bit, shoving down his own boxers. He was almost embarrassed to be fully hard, despite the circumstances. It was impossible for an alpha not to be when smelling an omega's scent. Rollo pulled himself close to Malleus, hand grasping his stomach and face nestled into his neck. He wrapped the condom over himself, wrapping his hand around the base to position himself.

It was only now that they had no words to share. No banter. There was an unspoken intimacy in the air; their soft breathing a declaration of love.

As the two laid on their sides, Rollo breathed deeply as he positioned himself, trying not to get overwhelmed. The scent was so strong, it was taking all of his self control to not cum just from the eroticism of the situation. They were both so inexperienced, going from that to helping with his heat-

The other man whined lowly, hair standing on end as he felt Rollo breathing against the back of his neck. His mouth was so close to his scent gland, so accessible for biting, but Rollo resisted, instead keeping his face in the between of Malleus’ neck and shoulder. After all, his horns were large, and he had to keep his head down so he may not get poked in the eye.

At last, he took another deep breath, pushing his length inside of him. Rollo could barely stand the hot, slick feeling, and the dark fire inside his stomach burned even hotter. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt. It was completely different from his own dry hand. On the other side of things, Malleus was beside himself, the feeling of being full after agonizing in heat alone was absolute bliss. It was so unlike him, to lose his decorum in such a way. He had become a sopping-wet rag of a man within this short time, and now, he leaned back against Rollo, wanting more contact with him. Rollo held on to him tightly, starting to slowly and shallowly move his hips.

Black hair spilled over Malleus’s shoulders and into his face, not having the thought nor priority to brush it aside. All that took up his mind was the fullness, the hot pleasure of each shallow thrust of his companion's length.

Rollo's arms wrapped tightly around his middle, their bodies flush against each other. His front was stark against Malleus’s back, only the dip at the arch of his back separating them.

As their movements got more intense, a thin sheen of sweat shown on both of them, their bodies tangled together in a passionate dance. As slow as they were taking it, they both seemed completely taken over by the feeling. The pace was sloppy, without a very clear rhythm at all. As Rollo’s hips moved against Malleus’s, the two only cared about the other.

"Is this- ngh, fuck-" Rollo cursed breathlessly, his hot breath eliciting a shiver down Malleus’s neck.

"Is this okay?"

Malleus nodded vaguely, too preoccupied to think about it.

"Yes."

Rollo adjusted his position a little bit, the two turning just a little more towards their stomachs. He put his leg over to try and keep himself steady, his breathing becoming shaky.

"Is it… is it alright if I knot?" He asked, once again wanting as much consent as the other man could grant.

Malleus nodded again, this time more assertively.

"Yes," He repeated, more firm, even more breathless. There was a small whimper in his tone- a conveyed desperation no one on this earth had gotten lucky enough to hear. The length of Rollo's dick brushed against every sensitive spot he didn't know he had, making him crumble to bits in his arms.

"Please-" he whined, a high and needy keen.

The sound was so unlike him that it drove the other man right over the edge, Rollo's orgasm crashing into him. His knot swelled at the base of his length, and with one last thrust, the two now were locked together, for a good while at least.

The feeling of being knotted was too hot to handle, and the feeling spurred on Malleus’s own orgasm, making him shiver with pleasure. His toes curled, and he buried his face in the pillow next to him to hide his expression as he whimpered louder than before.

The silence that soon seeped into the room was deafening. The only noise was their soft breathing, the two not even daring to move yet. However, the afterglow crept in much quicker than they would have expected.

Rollo didn't move from his place against Malleus. His face was still fastened in his neck, nose pressed against the omega's sensitive scent gland, his arms still tightly wrapped around him.

"That was… that was really-"

"It was."

Rollo chuckled softly, humming briefly.

"I must admit, I still am in shock about you being an omega. I'd known, yet I suppose it hadn't set in until now," he admitted.

Malleus made a curious sound.

"Really, Flamm?" He asked.

"Mhm," Rollo murmured.

"Presumably humans present different as their second gender from fae. I'll have to make further note of that." Malleus mumbled, closing his eyes for a few moments as he settled back against Rollo’s front.

—☆—

The knot finally deflated.

As the two turned over, exhausted from the throes of passion, the silence and their breathing was all that was audible now. Malleus leaned over against Rollo’s chest, reaching his arm across his chest. Rollo’s heart almost lept out of his chest, but what would have been a sweet moment was actually just the prince reaching for something from the nightstand.

A little device that beeped as he turned it on, making little pixelated sounds.

“Ah, you’re hungry?” Malleus said softly.

“What?” Rollo raised an eyebrow.

Malleus’s eyes darted up to Rollo’s face now.

“What, what?”

Rollo huffed softly, “What is that thing?” he questioned.

“This is Drago.” Malleus explained, his face seeming to Rollo as if he had no thoughts in his head at all. His black hair was slightly stuck to his skin, which was still slick with sweat from their activities. His cheeks were flushed, and the sight alone made the other man's breath catch. Perhaps it was because he was a prince. Perhaps it was just because he was his boyfriend. But he really was so beautiful.

Rollo simply sighed.

"Good lord, Malleus. Whatever will I do with you…"

Malleus simply replied,

"I thought you wanted to destroy me, Rollo."

#mallerollo #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #omegaverse

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letters-from-dekarios · 6 months ago

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(post-game, half-elf wizard formerly too poor for schools stayed with Rolan and his sibs to help in the shop)

Dear Gale-

So good to hear from you again, I'm glad you're really loving being a professor! Astarion is gaining quite the reputation in the Upper City for his bespoke couture. I saw him the other day when I picked up a couple robes for Rolan. (can you see my eyes rolling?) Sorcerous Sundries is doing well, as is the new magickal lending library Rolan's instituted here. He's also sponsored a good handful of kids with potential via a scholarship and letters of recommendation. He's even thinking about hosting some intellectual wizarding salons once a month and wanted me to pass that on to you. Wine, wizarding chat, nibbles... whee. I know, it's a great opportunity to network and learn, blah blah blah.

Don't get me wrong, I deeply appreciate his offering me a place and a job here, I just... Rolan rarely has time outside all this and his own learning to have the kinds of in-depth chats we used to have. I know he's worked so hard to get where he has and is incredibly talented (I mean, his Thunderwave is amazing), but I- I cannot complain. I will only say that I didn't really foresee a future working retail, no offense.

In truth, Gale, I find myself often reminiscing about our Fine, I shall say it. I miss you. I miss our talks, our discussions of poetry and the theater, history, even our favorite drinks. While I am most grateful we no longer contend with tadpoles, goblins, daily death threats, or even gods (mostly), I do miss our time together. You are witty, funny, kind, considerate, brave, talented, compassionate, erudite- Oh dear, I think this Esmeltar Red is a bit more vintage than I'd planned.

Ah, yes, quite old. I stole it from the cellar, shhhh. Perhaps I could nab another one if you'd like to visit? I'll see if there's a nice place in town than the Elfsong. I know you appreciate the finer things in life, perhaps even more so now. I must end this so I don't weight down the pigeon enough for Tara to pounce, eh? Hope to see you soon, Gale.

Yours,

Tavelyon Shit. Tav. Pretend I didn't write that.

Dearest Tav,

I’m glad to hear Astarion is doing as well as I assumed he would. I’m sure it’s refreshing for him to experience the city in a new light now. Figuratively, of course. I am also elated to hear Sorcerous Sundries has flourished! Turning it into a more casual lending style will open the way for more magically inclined persons to learn more freely. I am quite happy to hear that. Perhaps Rolan can write recommendation letters for students to come here to Blackstaff. We could use some younger minds every now and then.

Do tell Rolan I’d be all the interested if he does decide to pursue hosting those meetings. You’ve got me pinned quite nicely, as it would be incredibly nice to collaborate with like-minded individuals.

It is normal to find irritation in mundane tasks after the journey we had. There is nothing to quench the appetite of an adventurer quite like, well, adventure. Placing yourself back in such a position for boredom can cause the mind to wander.

For what it’s worth, I miss you as well. While I love my professorship with my entire heart, I do reminisce often about the conversations we’d have. I have yet to find someone on such a level who can compete with you, someone who makes me question things in ways I’d never considered before. You made me think, you made me consider the whole universe in my answers. There is nothing better than the company of someone you can analyze the air with. I am glad to have had that with you.

Please know you are welcome here in Waterdeep whenever you’d like. I’m sure if you wished to stay for some time, you could gain a short position at the Academy if you needed to.

I will be visiting the city soon, rest assured. I must see what Rolan has done with the library and I do owe Astarion a visit. But, most importantly, I owe you a visit, too. I aim for next tenday to make my way to the city, but we shall see where life puts me by then.

From the desk of,

𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔

text reads: gale dekarios

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hypnotisedfireflies · 1 year ago

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I was just wondering if you had any more delegated scenes from The Legend of Charro?

I am rabid from some Western AU!

Oh! I was going to share more of these and clean forgot. Thank you for reminding me. Yes, I do have some more cutting room floor bits. (And thank you for wanting to read more!!!)

I honestly don't know now where this one originally fit, but it was likely a middle chapter since the relationship is established. I actually have three cut versions of this scene but this is the better one. I wanted to include how they got engaged, but I couldn't make it work. I think I wrote they were engaged for around 18 months?? (because he was away, and her mother passed, etc) so they're about 17-odd here, and it's around?? a 18 months?? before the trouble started. (I think??) Anyway, it stops abruptly when I realised it wasn't working.

I also wanted to hint at the postmaster and Isobel colluding early by reading their mail, but it didn't seem that important to include when the rest came together.

Anyway, here's another outtake from The Legend of Charro, my Tessjoel Western AU:

Tess stepped up on the long wooden walkway connecting the general store, the doctor’s clinic and the post office. She pulled her shawl a little closer and tried to keep her steps even and slow, but it was hard when she knew there might be another letter waiting for her. She had a little stack of them in her pocket, tied together with string. Joel was writing whenever he could. He was somewhere west now with Sheriff Hocking, getting all that good experience for when it was his turn to keep the law of the land. She was so proud.

She turned into the building and went right up to the counter. The postmaster sure took his time getting up from his desk, but he smiled behind his half-moon glasses.

“Good afternoon, Miss Carradine.”

“Good morning,” she answered, wanting to leap over the counter herself and check the pigeon holes. She knew which one was theirs, and she could see a letter sitting there. “My ma sent me, she’s hopin’ for a letter from her sister in Boston?”

“Just this one,” he answered, plucking the envelope from it place. It looked pretty beat-up, but had been pressed flat for her. “Don’t think it’s from Boston, and it’s for you,” he looked like he knew exactly what she’d come for.

“Thank you, sir,” she answered, and tried not to snatch the letter from his fingers. “Give my best to Isobel,” she added.

Tess hurried out, opening the letter as she went. The seal gave easily beneath her trembling fingers and she tugged out the page inside. She sat down on the side of the walkway to read, heedless of being in anyone’s way, uncaring of being found. Everyone knew they were writing. Why, her mother was even reading the letters, just to make sure there was nothing untoward.

She smiled as she read through his brief descriptions of where he was and what he was learning, the things he saw and wished he could show her. He always wrote that – some version of carrying her with him so that, in a way, she really could see what he saw. The idea that he could be out there amongst so much and still thinking of her dazzled Tess. And then she came to the last line and –

“Tess.”

“In a minute, Nathaniel. I’m readin’.”

She leaned closer to the letter. Had she really read that last bit right?

“Tess!”

“Can you give me a goddamn minute, I am tryin’ to read!” She looked up in a fury, pulling her letter close in case he tried to take it away from her.

Nathaniel scoffed and held out his hand. “Come on.”

“It’s for me!”

“He’s back, Tess. He’s over at the jailhouse right now.”

“He’s back? But I just got a letter.”

“Well, he beat it home.” He shook his hand in the air. “Come on.”

Tess took her brother’s hand with a slow grin and dexterously folded up the letter with her free hand. She was still holding it when he escorted her into the sheriff's office, where the sheriff himself was sitting on the edge of his desk and chatting to his oldest son, standing before him with hands on hips.

What polite conversation took place for Nathaniel and Sheriff Miller to leave them alone was utterly lost on Tess. She and Joel beamed at one another as the dust danced in the sunlight between them, too charged to settle on the boards.

“When’d you get back?”

“This mornin’. You look nice.”

Tess shook her head quickly and looked down, still smiling away. “No, I’m all dirty. I rode in with Nathaniel and – and we only just got in.”

“I’m all dirty, too,” he explained, passing through the sunlight to reach her. “Only just come on back.”

He stopped when they were toe-to-toe. Tess felt a little thrill loop around her stomach. He glanced past her to the closed door. Soft voices out there, hoof beats on a dusty street. He was going to kiss her and that excitement, that moment right before they did it, never waned. She especially liked the way he kissed her after he’d been gone a little while. Tess curled her fingers around his necktie and he tugged her to him by the waist. They kissed as long and deeply as they dared when the door could open any minute.

“You all right?” Joel asked, short of breath and a little dazed when they broke for air. “You been good while I was gone?”

She shook her head. “No. I’ve been bored and lonely.”

“You poor little thing,”�� he grinned and kissed her some more. “I missed you.”

The way his hands swept her back and skirt was nothing short of indecent. Tess made the mistake of moaning and he broke the kiss, lifting his hands from her body to her hair instead. He rested his head against hers and watched it pool and overflow in his fingers.

“I’ll ride out to you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?!”

He chuckled and lifted her to sit on the edge of his desk. “Can’t you wait?”

“Can’t you? Or you been callin’ on all those pretty girls out there?”

“No.” He shook his head slightly. “Don’t talk like that. Had all them others laughin’ at me while I stayed back to write you while they did all their whorin’.”

“… kept all your letters.” Tess held up the one still crumpled in her hand.

“What you got there?”

“That’s one of yours.”

“It only just come?”

“Mm hm.”

Joel leaned in to look at it. She saw his confidence careen sideways when he realised which one it was. His eyes flitted between hers and the ink.

“So … so what do you think?”

“I think … I think maybe I’d like that.”

“You’d like that?” He broke out into a grin, shy and relieved, like he couldn’t quite believe it either. Then he straightened up, all business. “You know it can’t be right away.”

“That’s all right. I can wait,” she eagerly replied.

“I have to ride away again. Even as soon as next week. Don't look at me like that."

#asks #tlou fanfic #joel x tess #joel miller #tess servopoulos

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funnyjokespunperson · 11 months ago

Text

ೃ⁀➷

In this moment, you are loved.

tag system #toby's shouting into the void again (MY posts) #pigeon carried a letter to my doorstep (asks) #those pages are straws (straw page stuff) #art am i right (art rbed from my artblog) #this is my isat gameplay tag (excactly what it sounds like) ೃ⁀➷ other blog(s) @strcnglerfigs (artblog) @ask-utayaboy (kabru ask/rp blog) @ask-pattadol (pattadol ask/rp blog) Strawpage Bluesky

#pinned

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causenessus · 3 months ago

Note

[ 💌 ] INCOMING MAIL !

A LETTER FROM REE — TO — NESS HAS ARRIVED BY CARRIER PIGEON ♡ °⋆ 🕊️🕊️🕊️📮

ANYONE WHO ISNT NESS DNI DNR DO NOT LOOK. SCROLL AWAY I’M ABOUT TO GO TO SAPTOWN AND I AM EMBARRASSED THESE ARE MY DEMONS DO NOT PERCEIVE ME OR THIS ASK EVER. THIS IS FOR ONE PERSON ONLY. AND IT’S SUPER LONG ! YOU DONT WANT TO SEE THIS OR READ IT. LEAVE. THE DOOR IS THAT WAY.

ask/note: the last time I logged on I saw that you weren’t doing so well and attempted to write a suna + noya how they comfort you style fic and failed…MISERABLY. this is probably late and might not be of any use to you but the ghost of letters came over me and it’s spirit is whispering in my ear to write this (it’s my forte: letters, and I’m sure I could do it way better than writing when writers block is hitting more than it’s ever…. hitteth ,,,, <- ignore that)

dear ness,

first of all ! when I say you’re THE sweetest I mean it, so so so genuinely. you exude warmth and kindness and I truly believe without you tumblr would be a dull and soulless platform

second of all ! whenever you say something self deprecating about yourself I feel like knocking someone out. deep desires to harm someone or break something and just violence. crimes of some kind

I KNOW IT MIGHT NOT SET IN FOR YOU BUT IF I NEED TO SAY IT 100x FOR IT TO SEEP INTO YOUR BRAIN PROPERLY I WILL!! I KNOW YOU’RE AN OVERTHINKER!! I’M GOING TO HOLD YOUR HAND WHILE YOU OVERTHINK!!

there is nothing you’ve put out that I’ve ever disliked in the slightest if not loved entirely — when you said wdo inspires a lot of try again, to say I’m honored is a huge understatement and I believe you are out of everyone’s league; you’re an incredible writer and we don’t deserve you (I’m glad we have you though)

besides your writing, I cannot imagine a world nor a universe where I would enjoy tumblr as much as I do without you existing. I hate to mention wdo so much but it’s hard not to seeing that it was the first time we properly interacted sorry 😭 ..by the time I got to working in that fic I didn’t feel like I belonged on here and you made me feel welcomed :) I don’t think I would still be here or have met everyone that I did without you and I can’t ever thank you enough — you are kind and down to earth and so considerate, and I would give you the world if I could <333

third, last but not least, IT IS OKAY TO NOT BE AT YOUR BEST ! if you need a break we’ll be here when you come back !! you were the catalyst that made tumblr my home and if the apocalypse happened and wiped out everyone on the planet I’d be the last one standing — my motivation to survive was to be there for every causenessus post

IT IS NORMAL TO NOT UPLOAD EVERY DAY OR UPDATE FICS !! EVEN PUBLISHED AUTHORS GO MONTHS WITHOUT TOUCHINGN A PIECE OF WORK !! FANFICTION AUTHORS SHOULD BE SPARED!! ESPECIALLY YOU!! you’ve grinded and given us all these great fics, anyone impatient can take that time to go and reread ur other works instead of complain, I’m sure cold kisses and new grounds wouldn’t mind

I hope that no matter what happens outside of this silly little app: ur aware that my dms are open 24/7 and I mean that when I say it. It won’t require an apology or small talk — if you need to vent or a boredom cure I’ll always be here !!! always !!! I’m a no judgement zone and I CARE ABOUT YOU IMMENSELY AND I WANT YOU TO DO WELL ! I WANT YOU TO BE WELL ! I pray this letter feels like a bouquet of flowers on your doorstep with handmade chocolates from and a real sized suna placing it down there to give you the biggest hug of the century because it’s the bare fucking minimum for all the hard work you do (and before you say anything about slacking off, living is hard work — and I think you’ve done a spectacular job <3) ! this ask is the longest I’ve ever sent I think I set a record 🙂‍↕️ at the very least I hope it made you smile :)

with all my love,

ree.

REE THE MOODBOARD???? THE PICTURES???? REE I AM GOING TO SCREENSHOT THIS AND FRAME IT ON MY WALL /GEN I DON'T WORK IN FRAMING FOR NOTHING!! THIS IS SO SO SWEET <3 AND DW OMG :( THANK YOU FOR TRYING TO WRITE COMFORT AND IT'S TOTALLY OKAY IT DIDN'T WORK OUT!! (i am looking at the five discarded fics in my drafts rn)

ree i cannot i'm going to throw up /pos and i've only read the first paragraph!! REE I THINK YOU'RE OUT OF EVERYONE'S LEAGUE <3 you are genuinely so so sweet and creative and just have the most beautiful mind ever the way that you put so much effort and creativity and imagination into every single thing you do like look at this letter!! look at how you formatted it and matched color palettes and i just cannot tell you how thankful i am for you thank you so much ree <3

and omg no don't worry about mentioning wdo too much at all!! REE IT WAS SO GOOD I COULD NEVER NOT BE HAPPY TO SEE A REFERENCE OR READ SOMETHING ABOUT WDO!! and i'm so so glad that i could help you feel more welcome BC YOU'RE LITTERALLY OUT OF ALL OF OUR LEAGUES!!! IT'S LIKE IF I?? IDK LIKE OPENED THE DOOR AND GREETED UMMMMMMM TOM HOLLAND AT THE DOOR?? AND TREATED HIM LIKE A STRANGER AND THEN HE WALKED INTO THE PARTY AND BUSTED IT DOWN AND EVERYONE LIKE KNEW HIM AND CHEERED HIM ON YK??? like you are so amazing!!! you didn't need an introduction you just needed to come into the haikyuu fandom and bless us all with your writing yk !! (i'm so sorry i cannot find the words in my head to describe my vision for what i'm trying to tell you and i have no idea why tom holland was the first person that came to mind but i hope you get what i mean!!!)

and omg please ree thank you so much for reminding me of how okay it is to take breaks and not post everyday <33 you are so so sweet and i hope that you've been doing well after taking your breaks and everything!! i am so sorry it took me so long to get to this BUT I AM SO HONORED TO HAVE RECEIVED THIS LETTER AND I CANNOT BELIEVE I AM JUST NOW SEEING YOU MOVED BLOGS?? BUT I THINK I FOUND IT AND WILL BE FOLLOWING IT ASAP AS SOON AS I FINISH SAP YAPPING IN THIS ASK!!!

ree i cannot tell you how thankful i am for all of our interactions and the memories we've made and for helping me with the stupid "a (technically an)" or "my" struggle during the makings of love notes and for literally just always being there for me!! please know my dms and everything are always always open to you too and i love you so much!! i hope you see this despite already moving blogs 😭 and i'm so sorry i'm just now finding out about it!!!! but you are the literally the best ree i am so thankful for you <33

#answers <3 #i heart ree <3 #ness' first aid kit <3

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greeenchrysanthemums · 6 months ago

Note

Dear Lord Danny of Dawn,

(Que the formal stuff at the beginning I should put but didn't know what to put.)

How are you doing?

Thank you for answering my letter, it too made my day. The pigeon in fact got here safely. I don't know how far Dawn is from Eiren but it must have be far.

I would like to ask what cities or towns (That are important or you just want to info dump on) are in your au?

Respectfully,

Lady Marabelle of Eiren

Dear Lady Marabell of Eiren,

I am glad to hear to hear that the pigeon made it safely. I am doing well, I hope you are as well. Your letters are always a delight to receive X)

As for your very fun question, I will first direct you to the map post that I made for this world some months ago so that you can refresh on the kingdoms I will be talking about.

Wintertide is a moderately sized kingdom made up of the capital, several small farming towns scattered around the outskirts of their forest, a few mining towns closer to the mountains, and one independent territory that they attach their name to (Crystaline Mountain Village; Gem's home). On the border of the large forest (called the Enchanted Forest, of course) and close to Floweret is a town by the name of Little Wood. It is where Martyn was born and raised, so his name in this au is actually "Martyn of Little Wood".

Some other Wintertide towns include: Dogshire, South Cobble Town, Red Wood, and Deep Frost (a mining town that is partially inside the base of the mountain).

Coral Crest is a very large kingdom that takes up a good portion of the map since they have claimed a majority of the beaches and cliffs bordering the ocean coast. It is made up of the Capital and numerous fishing towns, large and small, scattered along the claimed shorelines.

I have not thought of names for every single one of these towns/cities, as that would take too much time, but Shadow Cove, Bush Beach, Fairy Peninsula, and Codsland (actually a small island near the mainland) are a few examples of these fishing towns.

Floweret is still very small compared to the other kingdom, so it is only made of the capital city and two small towns; Tumbletine and River Valley, the later of which is bursting with wildflowers and other plants that are used to create and sell dyes. Tumbletine is Jimmy's hometown!

The Monopoly is just one big trading town and it has no connecting territories or cities. It is about the size of Wintertide's capital, though just a tad bit smaller.

With Love,

Lord Danny of Dawn

#GG asks #GG rivals au #hermitcraft #life series #I apologize that this is a bit late #I was busy this past week

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littleperilstories · 2 years ago

Text

The Prince of Thieves: Hope Is the Thing With Feathers

Mood Boards | Chapter Titles | Also on A03!

Warnings: Fantasy-esque prison setting, infection/illness, feeling betrayed, feverish delirium, restraints (shackles), fucked up power dynamics, angst, family member death mention

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Word count: 2521 || Approx reading time: 10 mins

Hope Is the Thing With Feathers

Teaser: Memories bleed into the present. Nothing is real. Perhaps that’s why Jamie is there but not there. Why my eyes are so untrustworthy, why I blink and the scene before me changes as if my surroundings simply are blowing away in a gust of wind.

Will

Time is fluid and blurry, and so is the world around me. Sometimes I’m in the cell, in shivering darkness, haunted by the torch in the corridor. Other times I am in brightness, warm light streaming in through thrown-wide windows. Sometimes I feel nothing. Sometimes the pain burning through my body is so great that I cannot even think.

Sometimes Jamie is there, and I don’t understand, because he wasn’t there before, and I don’t understand that either, because he’s my brother and my partner and my closest friend and why wouldn’t he be around? Yet there is a wrongness in his presence, and when he speaks it isn’t quite his voice, and when I try to remember what he said, I cannot recall a single word.

Sometimes Jamie isn’t there; rather, Constable Baden Hatchett looks down on me with a pitiless glare. Sometimes Michaelson is with him, or the medic, Gysborne. Sometimes they only haunt the edges of my vision like ghosts. Other times, they speak or shout or hurl insults or throw punches or crack a whip across my back and suddenly the pain and bleeding begin anew.

Still other times, there is a girl by my side, with dark hair and sad eyes. She speaks to me, too, and half the time I’m not sure what she says, but her voice is always kind. Sometimes I wake to the feathery brush of her fingers against my skin, and the touch is sweet and torturous at once.

Memories bleed into the present. Nothing is real. Perhaps that’s why Jamie is there but not there. Why my eyes are so untrustworthy, why I blink and the scene before me changes as if my surroundings simply are blowing away in a gust of wind.

I am petting a puppy I found on the side of the road, determined to bring her home and give her somewhere warm and safe to live. I am standing in the schoolroom with my palm held up, waiting for the schoolmaster to bring down the leather strap. I am running through the city streets with Jamie at my heels, chasing butterflies or pigeons or stray cats. I am watching my mother and brother cry over a letter they will not let me read. I am grinning at Jamie as he concocts a plan to make life easier for the misfortunate of our city: Iustitia aecum. I am wrapped in my mother’s arms. I am with Colette, laughing because her “naïve, hapless woman” routine surely won’t work to lure in any pickpockets to recruit. I am grabbing a thief, letting him struggle weakly as Colette approaches with her knife drawn.

I am dying of pain, tied to a whipping post.

I am dying of fever, struggling to keep my wits and my senses.

I am exhausted.

“Drink this,” someone says, and it’s poisoned. Foul-tasting, bitter, sickening. I choke and cough.

Hot and cold, never enough and too much, comfort and discomfort in an agonizing cycle, there and not, there and not. Fingers in my hair, not pulling but gentle. Water against my lips. Murmured voices in my ear.

It hurts. Why should healing hurt more than dying?

“I know,” says that voice in answer to something I don’t remember saying. “But it’s looking better.”

Dreams and sleep and whorls of darkness and dreams.

I wake and Bree is leaning over me, murmuring something, brushing hair from my face.

“I remember you,” I say.

Concern and confusion flash across her face. “Did you…forget me?”

“No…” I wish I could close my eyes, because we’re in the infirmary—not that I remember how I got here—and that means I’m still in jail, and that means I’m still alive, and that means I’m back in the position of waiting to die. Again. But I don’t want to look away from her. “I mean. That day. With Col—” I catch myself just in time. “With Spider. You stole her whole fucking coin purse.”

Bree looks away, and her cheeks are actually turning red.

“I attacked you,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

“Fox—”

“That was you, right? You were dressed as a boy. Again.”

“That’s what you want to talk about?” She’s amused, based on the way she’s biting her lip, but there’s more in her face as well. Worry? Or is it wariness? “Don’t you want to know if you’re going to live?”

“No.” Of course I fucking don’t, because there is only one answer and it’s not a pleasant one. “Did I hurt you?”

“What are you talk—”

“That night, the night we met, that was part of the—the whole thing—she was looking for runners, and I was helping her, she was looking for good pickpockets but also ones who could handle being scared a little—”

“Fox, shut up.” She glances around. “Just…please relax. You didn’t hurt me. You scared me, at first, but…don’t worry about it. It was a long time ago.” Her fingers latch onto mine. “How are you feeling?”

Bree leans over me then, a few stray hairs tickling my skin. “There’s usually someone around, all right?” Her voice is barely louder than a breath. “Don’t talk about IA. Not now.”

It comes back to me then, not a memory from years ago, but one only days old.

She made a deal with Hatchett.

Only she’s allowed to betray IA, apparently. Not me.

She must see it in my face, the change, and she leans back, pulling her hand away. “I think the worst has passed.”

“I fucking doubt that.” I look away from her now, hating myself for forgetting what she did.

What she did for me.

The infirmary is bright and pristine, the opposite of our cells. Gysborne keeps his own space clean, at least, even if no one can be bothered to extend the same kindness to the prisoners. I wish I’d been lucid enough to appreciate the comforts in here the last few days. They’re going to be taken away soon, I’m sure.

Questions roll over me now, things I should probably know but can’t bring myself to ask. How long have I been in the medic bay? How bad was the infection? How bad is my shoulder, still? My back? Why is Bree here with me? Why is she still alive? When will they send us back? What horrors await me when they do? She’ll tell me, of course. She wants to. But I don’t want to talk to her.

The spiral of worries pulls me into sleep again.

The next time I wake, it’s dark outside, no light shining through the window. Bree is still next to me, serious and pale.

“It’s just us,” she says, her voice quiet. “Gysborne will be back soon, I’m sure, but for now…”

I risk sitting up, and no dizziness greets me when I rise.

“How are you feeling?” she asks softly.

“Better, I guess.” I’m thirsty, parched even, my mouth dry and bitter as it always is after a too-long slumber. The sharp agony that invaded every part of my body is all but gone, leaving only a dull ache and the knowledge that surviving now cannot guarantee I will be alive for long.

“You want water?” I’m not sure how she knows. Maybe my voice is nothing more than a rusty croak. I nod.

She lifts a tin cup from a table nearby and fills it with water. “Can you hold it?”

Although I nod again, she keeps her fingers on the cup for a few extra moments, as if she fears I’m too weak to lift it myself.

The water tastes disgusting, as it always does when swilled over a sour tongue, but it doesn’t make me want to bring up the contents of my stomach. “Why?”

Her brown eyes meet mine. “Why, what?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what? Giving you water? You just said you’re th—”

“Keeping me alive,” I say. I don’t know if I want to know the answer. “I’m going to be hanged. We both know that. I just don’t understand.”

She’s quiet for a long while. I wish I could hear what thoughts are going through her mind—hear the justification for all this madness. Bargaining with Hatchett, selling Colette’s secrets to him, all for the ultimately pointless endeavour of buying me an extra few days, weeks at most, of miserable life. If you can call this life.

What she said before the fever pulled me into darkness comes back. “Keeping me here to suffer more because your mother died on you, that’s not fair.” I know these words will hurt her. I don’t care. “I watched my Ma die, too.”

“It isn’t just that, Fox.”

“Then what the fuck else is it?”

“If you’re dead, it’s over,” she says softly. “If you’re—if we’re—alive, then there’s hope, isn’t there? No matter how slim.”

Not fucking good enough for me. “Hope for what?”

Bree shrugs. “I don’t know. Isn’t that the point? I wanted to die before, too. I was ready to give up. I was this close…” She pinches her thumb and forefinger together. “This close to lying down on the side of the road and just starving to death.”

I blink. None of this is what I expected her to say.

“But I didn’t.” She shakes her head, absently takes the empty cup from my hands and refills it. “I held on. And things worked out.” She hands me the newly replenished water, and a tear streaks down her cheek. “For a while, anyway.”

Everything she’s told me about her life—pieces of a puzzle I can’t quite fit together. “Before IA?” She nods. “After your parents died.” Again.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m sorry if you think saving your life was the wrong thing to do. But I don’t agree.”

For a few minutes, neither of us says a damn thing.

“You don’t have anyone,” I say, the story about her almost lying down in the dirt sinking in. “Nowhere to go? Grandparents? Aunts? Friends—” As she shakes her head to confirm that all of this is true, a new and more awful realization strikes me. “That night. You were alone.”

“Which—”

“The alley.”

Her face twitches and pales a little. “Yes.”

“Where… Where did you go?”

“I was…dropping the…” She waves her hands. “You know. The goods. Weren’t you going to pick it up?”

“No, I mean after. I told you to go before the constables showed up, and you did. Where’d you go?”

Why am I asking? This question, this story, right now, after two years? It doesn’t matter. And I’m angry with her, so I shouldn’t care. I don’t care.

“Just…back to the room I was renting.” Her fingers dance nervously in her lap. “A boarding house.”

“But you were by yourself.”

I can’t imagine how it must have felt for her to be alone when she got there—no one to talk to, to tell, no comforting shoulder to cry into. That same night, for me, was full of the touches and voices of my family—Jamie and Colette and Geoff. Hell, I fell asleep with Jamie sitting next to my bed. To think of her lying awake and alone as darkness thickened around her…

And still she’s here now.

If you’re alive, then there’s hope.

“I don’t know if I have any hope left,” I say, and the trueness of this statement presses against my throat.

I shouldn’t be telling her this. I shouldn’t be saying anything at all. I shouldn’t be talking to her, even looking at her.

But.

Bree reaches out and brushes a trembling finger down my cheek, and it’s only then I realize that I’m crying, too.

“You have to,” she whispers. “Please. Please.”

I catch her hand with mine when she draws back. “We’ll only be disappointed.” Heartbroken.

“That’s the risk. Isn’t it?”

Another tear slips down her cheek, then another. With my thumb, I wipe them from her skin. “Just… I’m just returning the favour.”

I don’t know why I say those words, but something about them makes Bree smile.

The door opens and Gysborne walks in, a look of severe distaste crossing his face when he sees me awake and sitting up. “You’re better, then.”

“No thanks to you, I’m sure,” I say before I can stop myself.

“Fox, don’t,” Bree says, closing her eyes.

I down the rest of the water to distract myself from saying anything else.

“Fucking pity,” Gysborne mutters. “I’m sending you back in the morning, then.”

“Already?” Bree jumps to her feet. “You can’t let him rest a little longer?”

“Don’t you start,” he snaps. “You can go back tonight.”

My stomach lurches. Back to the cell, alone in the dark again? “Please. Let her stay.”

Please was a mistake. Now he’s definitely not letting that happen. “No.”

I realize she’s still wearing shackles on her ankles. This whole time, they’ve kept her in chains. I’m not even wearing any.

“It’s fine,” she says to me, even though her face is drawn. “I’ll be all right. You’ll be all right.”

It isn’t even Hatchett who comes to collect her, but one of the other constables. I recognize him as he gets close enough to take her arm and pull her away: the one she stole the flask from.

Fuck, fuck. I begin to panic. None of the officers in here have any compassion, or really, any maturity. Why should this one be any different? What if he decides to be extra cruel because of that day?

“Don’t touch her,” I say. Even I know they’re brave words for someone who is definitely going to collapse to the floor after three or so steps. “Or I’ll—”

Officer What’s-His-Name and Gysborne are next to me in an instant.

“Already starting, are you?” It’s the medic who locks my wrist to the cot with a short-chained set of manacles. “Zero common sense. None whatsoever. How have you survived to adulthood?”

“Shut the fuck up,” is the best I can come up with. Pathetic though it is, it still earns me a smack on the side of the head.

Bree watches with a look that says, There’s really no fucking helping you.

“Don’t worry about the little witch,” the constable says. “I’m sure you’ll see her soon enough.”

Don’t do anything stupid, Bree mouths at me before the officer hauls her none too gently from the room.

“Lie down so I can check you over,” says Gysborne unenthusiastically, “and I don’t want to hear a fucking word out of you, you got that?”

“Whatever you say, Doc.”

He huffs out an enormous sigh, and I smile at him. Hope I may not have, or much time left to live, but I do have a long history of knowing exactly how to get under people’s skin. If he’s going to start off acting like a prick… Well, two can play at that game. I can at least make sure that this is a very long and unpleasant night for us both.

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Tagging: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @gala1981, @kixngiggles .

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