#but I remember being proud of it and liking it

[wonderjanga]

Ms. Kent and Billy

it’s 1959 and it’s been a year ever since Billy got his powers. Life is good and he found out about a pie eating contest happening in some little town in Kansas called Smallville. If you were to win, you’d get a whole $100.

Billy: “A hundred whole dollars… I could get food for weeks- no, months with that!”

Martha(Ma Kent): *appeared behind him* “Are you gonna participate in the contest?”

Billy: *startles* “Uh… Yes?”

Martha: “Aren’t you a little skinny for that?”

Billy: “Wha- I’m not skinny! I don’t think I’m too skinny at least.”

Martha: *looks him up and down wondering if he’d let her cook a bunch of food for him* “Sure. Hey, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. Are you new to Smallville?”

Billy: “Yes. This is my first time here actually.”

Martha: “Oh? So you’re just here for the pie contest?”

Billy: “Yup. I’m gonna eat as much pie as I can, and then I’m gonna get the money.”

Martha: “Will you tell me if they’re good?”

Billy: “Sure? Why?”

Martha: “Cause me and my mom made all the pies for the competition!”

Billy: “Oh, that’s amazing!” *looks starstruck*

Martha: *sounds proud* “I know.”

Billy didn’t end up winning the competition. He actually ended up vomiting after his first pie because his little malnourished self couldn’t handle all of that. Martha was there though to clean him up with a rag. They got to know each other better after that and soon enough, Billy would transform into Marvel, fly over to Smallville, and hang out with her. Martha even got to know Freddy because he would sometimes fly over with Billy too. Then the time bubble happened and fast forward 50 years. Billy, after panicking about his entire life and everything he knows it being over, went to go see Martha, who was conveniently still near Smallville.

Billy: *knocks on the door*

Martha: “Coming!” *opens the door and looks around seeing no one*

Billy: “Down here.”

Martha: *looks down to Billy and pauses to stare*

Billy: “Heeeeeeeey Martha.” *awkward wave*

Martha continued to stare at him for a solid minute before she rubbed her eyes, and then rubbed them again for good measure.

Martha: “Billy…?”

Billy: “Martha…?”

Martha: “Oh- my… Oh my Gosh!” *kneels down so she can look him over even going as far as to pinch his little cheeks to make sure he’s real*

Billy: “Ow! Martha, stop!” *bats away her hands*

Martha: *keeps trying to pinch him aways* “Are you real?”

Billy: “Yes?”

Martha: *has seen too much nonsense due to Clark* “Well, if you’re the real Billy uhm… Where did we first meet?”

Billy: “A pie eating contest here?”

Martha: “Hmm… That might be too easy… What pies did I make for the contest?”

Billy: “Wha- I don’t know!? How am I supposed to remember that??”

Martha: “Okay… Too hard. How about you tell me something only you would’ve known about a fourteen year old me.”

Billy: “Like what?”

Martha: “Like something secret I told you.”

Billy: “Uhm… You had a crush on Elvis and said you wanted your future husband to be just like him?”

Martha: *stares before feeling herself cringe at her teenage self* “Okay, I’ll assume you’re the real Billy. Come in, bud.”

They caught up after that. They even decided to make pies together again. It was fun. You would just see them in the kitchen together talking about whatever, normally old lady stuff, and baking. Then, when Grandpa Kent came home…

Jonathan(Pa Kent): “Martha, I’m home!” *walks to the kitchen and pauses when he sees Billy and Martha*

Martha and Billy: *stare back at him*

Jonathan: “Martha is that an another grandbaby, clone, or cousin of Clark’s?”

Martha: “None of those. This is Billy. He’s a friend of mine.”

Jonathan: “Martha, you’re just befriending eight-year-olds now? Where are his parents?”

Billy: “They’re dead, mister! But don’t worry, me and Martha met back in ‘59. We go way back.”

Jonathan: *stares for a solid minute* “Wait a darn moment… were you caught up in all that Fawcett business?” *heard about it on the news*

Billy: “Yup!”

Martha: “What Fawcett business?”

That’s how Billy was led to explain the entirety of the time bubble and suspendium and all that. The Kents thankfully welcomed him with open arms. After this entire incident, Billy showing up to the farm was a regular occurrence. He could bake with Martha and help Mr. Jonathan out as much as he could on the farm. Then, one of the Kents other grandchildren showed up. (Billy was basically their grandbaby too, not that the Batson knew)

Jonathan: *trying to fix their tractor because it broke down for whatever reason*

Billy: *standing to the side, holding a toolbox and giving him tools whenever he asks*

Jon: *flies over from Metropolis* “Grandpa! Grandpa-” *does a double take when he sees Billy* “Wait, who’re you?”

Billy: “I’m Billy!”

Jonathan: “You heard him Jon. He’s Billy.”

Jon: *suddenly self-conscious of the fact that he’s flying in front of this kid and kinda just revealed his identity* “I’m uh… Jon.” *slowly floats down to land on the ground*

Billy and Jon: *stare at each other*

Jonathan: “Billy, can you pass me the diamond tip screwdriver?”

Billy: “Sure!” *passes it to him*

Yeah… Jon was a little confused as to who this random kid was. He was also a little confused as to why he refers to Jon’s grandpa has Mr. Jonathan but refers to Jon’s grandma as Martha. Did he live with grandma and grandpa? Is he another one of his dad’s cousins? Jon doesn’t think the boy’s a kryptonian but he might be wrong. Anyways, he’s making everything weird! Though it’s a sort of good kind of weird? His grandma is acting… younger? They also keep referencing things Jon has no idea about. (Late 50s pop culture) The kid- Billy, seems nice enough though. He has no problems playing with Jon so that’s awesome! Jon is so happy to have a friend away from home, but he’s still confused as to why Billy is at the farm.

Jon: “Dad, why do some people live on farms?”

Supes: “Because they’re farmers…?”

Jon: “No, but like what if they aren’t farmers, and they just help the farmers that are already there? Like one day they just showed up and decided to help around.”

Supes: “Well, I guess the closest thing you’re looking for would be a farmhand. Why are you asking?”

Jon: “Well, there’s this kid that lives with grandma and grandpa now-”

Supes: “WHAT?!”

Yeah, neither Ma Kent or Pa Kent have told Clark about this. It kind of slipped their minds.

Bonus interactions:

Before Pa Kent Came Home…

Billy: “Who’s that?” *looking at a photo of Pa and Ma Kent together*

Martha: “My husband.”

Billy: “Husband…?” *suddenly sad he missed a bunch of stuff from Martha’s life* “Oh…”

Martha: You sound upset. What’s wrong?

Billy: “Nothing.”

Twenty Years Ago When Clark Was Still a Kid…

Supes: Ma, who’s that? *looking at a photo of a nine year old Billy and a fourteen year old Martha*

Martha: “Oh, that’s Billy and I.”

Supes: “Who’s Billy?”

Martha: “An old friend of mine. He uhm… disappeared one day. I don’t know what happened to him.”

[kj-crayons]

1. The Prologue from Into the Woods

2. Was Gilmore Girls, anymore I don’t watch very much TV

3. Writing more than reading anymore. I used to be a huge reader but I just don’t have as much time for it as I would like

4. A cool summer breeze at midnight when the air is the best it’s been all day but still warm and in the 80’s

5. Noise canceling headphones + punk rock music + going for a walk

6. Eucalyptus and citrus scents. Cinnamon/ fally scents are kinda triggering, but anything that smells like spring is lovely

7. Honestly, myself. I feel like me when I am alone, or when I’m in control of my situation

8. Old, fuzzy fabric car interior chairs

9. I unfortunately don’t remember much of my childhood, but probably when I finally figured out how to ride a bike

10. Silly Christmas pictures with my baby brother

11. Weighted blanket

12. Weight, warmth, and music

13. Shower

14. Running tech on a new theater show

15. Toast with butter and cinnamon sugar

16. I haven’t decided what it is yet, but whatever my next cosplay will be

17. Time and attention and care. People who notice when I’m anxious or who will sit and talk to me after a long day. Being reminded to take care of my chronic conditions is rather ignore, being held and kept warm by another person

18. I imagine my 30’s. Financial independence from my parents, choose where I live and work and who I’m around, hopefully have a steady enough job. Freedom from the things that stop me from being me now

19. Haven’t ever received a love letter, and what I’ve written has been mostly sappy poetry 🫢

20. When I was 4 or 5 and my dad woke me and my brother up to see a Super Blood Moon at like 1am. It was so incredible to see how big and red the moon was, and it’s really stuck with me and influenced my love of fiction, my writing, and my creativity

21. Tea

22. “ Songs for Those Days ™️ (Alt/ Indie playlist) “

23. I’ve gotten flowers from friends, for plays and musicals, and for when I graduated

24. Best Friend is a kind of silly concept, but if there’s one thing I took from my ex it’s that anyone who deserves it or who loves me (platonically or otherwise) can be my best friend.

25. My soul is probably a dark turquoise. I do a lot of witchy shit and aura reading but reading my own is harder

26. Somewhere queer friendly, with good health care, and a north facing front door. Otherwise, I’m not picky

27. It’s hard to get motivated to but I love gardening. It’s actually one of my goals for new years to make a windowsill herb garden

28. I’m proud of making a life where I get and deserve to be happy and loved

29. I think I’m kind in the New Yorker sense. I don’t show it with words a lot, and have been told I come off as kind of intimidating but I’d give you my kidney if you needed it

30. Hobbies include Dnd, cosplay, descending into the void, cooking, and generally anything that helps me feel either a little bit lighter, a little bit happier, or a little less alone

✨soft asks✨

What song makes you feel better?

What is your go to comfort show?

Reading or writing? Why?

Whats your favorite feeling?

How do you like to take care of yourself?

What’s your favorite candle scent?

Who do you feel most like yourself around?

Whats a fabric/texture that’s nostalgic for you?

Best childhood moment?

When was the last time you laughed so hard you cried? (or just felt really good afterwards)

Do you have a comfort item? Tell us about it!

What calms you down?

Bath or shower to relax?

Whats something upcoming that you’re excited for?

Comfort food?

What’s something you want to create soon?

How do you feel best loved?

What age in life do you think you’ll feel most yourself at?

Have you ever written or received a love letter?

Tell us about a memory you hold close to your heart.

Tea, Coffee, or hot cocoa?

Name of your favorite playlist?

Have you ever received flowers?

Who is your bestfriend?

If your soul was a color, what would it be?

If you could live anywhere with anyone you want, where would it be and who would you bring?

Do you like to garden? Have you ever grown something?

What are you proudest of?

Are you a kind person?

What do your hobbies look like?

[floraisunwell]

Promise | s.r

who? post-prison!reid x ex gf reader (she's a nurse)

category: angst (bold move ig)

summary: Spencer left you 5 months ago without a word for undisclosed reasons but he comes teary eyed to your door after seeing a girl that looks a little too much like you.

based on (very loosely lol): promise by laufey. the fic does not follow the events of the song at all but i love the "if it weren't for the sight of a boy who looked just like you standing out on Melrose avenue" part right at the end so it's all on that line.

word count: 1.6k

a/n: my first fic ahhhhhhh, i'm so nervous and happy rn, this is my baby and ik there's a lot of space for improvement but i'm proud of my writing, this comunnity is full of amazing people and if it wasn't such a lovely space i would have never posted this. shoutout to @lilacsandlavenderhaze for being the first to hear my idea and telling me i should go ahead and write it; @spencersbabymama for telling me to cut the bullshit and self deprecation and post this; and to @esote-rika for being my first readerrrr. love y'all <3

dividers by @aquazero

English is not my first language pls tell me about any spelling and grammatical mistakes. enjoyy!

The air was cold and crisp, a light drizzle could be felt dampening the streets – a scene typical for this time of the year in Washington. Spencer had gone out with the team to get some drinks after a hard but successful case, he was happy, of course, the fact that they had caught the killer pleased him but everything inside the building felt overwhelming: the voices, and the drunk conversations, all the limbs touching a little too much, the overly loud music. He was out of it and to be honest he had been out of it for quite some time now, actually some months, everyone noticed how the breakup made him feel.

Funny, because he was the one to leave.

After you came back from a long shift at the hospital excited to cuddle with the love of your life (or so you thought) but the only remnant of him you found was a sticky note placed on the cover of a book you were reading at the time:

"I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore"

That was all he said before destroying everything you two had built over 3 years, 3 years of love, pain, and learning, 3 years of giving everything for each other, destroyed in less than 24 hours like nothing.

He hadn't been the same for a long time, though—not since prison. You didn't blame him; you tried to understand him, give him space, time, and everything one could need to heal. He was not the same, of course. You weren't expecting the same Spencer to come back, sure, but you also were not expecting whoever he had become: some cold and distant version of the person you used to know.

Your relationship with Spencer is divided into two eras: Before Millburn and After Millburn.

Before Millburn, you guys were somewhat happy. Both of you were overworked and stressed but happy. You would tell him about your work, and he would tell you about his. In the rare times, he got a day off work, he would hug you whenever he could, like he was making sure you wouldn't slip away.

After Millburn, you didn't talk much, not unless it was necessary, he didn't hug you a lot anymore, in fact, the last time he hugged you was when you went to pick him up at the correctional facility, all the emotions running high, you remember thinking he looked and smelled different, you didn't know he would be so different when you wrapped him in your arms, placed a kiss on his shoulder and whispered that everything would be fine. But everything was not fine. It was all so not fine and everyone around you two could tell. Yet you could have never imagined that Spencer, the man who made the hopeless romantic in you thrive would leave in such a disheartening way.

Back at O’Keeffe’s, the team was still at it. The count of how many rounds of drinks Rossi had paid long lost, Emily and JJ leaning suspiciously close to each other, Rossi nursing some unnecessarily extravagant drink, Garcia and Morgan somewhere on the dance floor and Hotch nowhere to be seen. Spencer had gone outside, hoping the sensory overload would ease with the fresh air, it did slightly but the agglomerate of people was no better than the one inside, so many people, reeking of alcohol, walking like zombies, and saying nonsensical things. As he was standing near the entrance, hands stuffed into his pockets, the soft rain dampening his hair, Spencer let his mind wander and it ended up where it always does: him contemplating if leaving was the right decision.

He was so deep in this thought that didn't even notice the man approaching until it happened- a hard shoulder bump that took him away from his thoughts.

"Sorry dude" the man muttered not even caring to glance back as he moved past. Spencer blinked, shocked as he watched the man move swiftly toward a small group of people nearby. A group that included you.

His heart jumped to his mouth. No - not you. But she looked like you, uncannily so. She even acted like you, the way she threw her back when she laughed or how she scrunched her nose in an attempt to put her sliding glasses in place - he could've sworn it was you.

For a fraction of a minute, he actually thought it was you. His breath caught in his throat and he took a step forward before reality sank in and he retreated. It wasn't you; it was never you.

But as he watched her wrapping her arms around the man's neck, as his hands almost automatically moved to her waist, and they both smiled like idiots in love. He couldn't help but feel like he had been stabbed and the knife was being twisted inside him. Was this some type of fucked up joke by the universe? "This could be you, bad thing you lost her" The thing is, he didn't lose you- he gave up on you which was worse because maybe if he had stayed, and tried a little harder, you would still be together.

He staggered back a few steps, and if he hadn't reached the wall, he would've fallen considering he already felt his knees buckle as all the bottled-up emotions from the past five months came crashing onto him; he was overwhelmed by his own feelings, eyes blurry with tears as a lump formed in his throat and the weight on his chest got heavier.

Blindly, almost unconsciously, he reached for his phone in the inside pocket of his jacket. His thumb hovered above your name in the contacts list. The message he typed was brief:

"Are you home?"

He didn't get a reply, he wasn't waiting for one. The moment he hit send his legs were already moving, practically running towards the street to hail a cab. He gave the driver your address, and it came out of his mouth easily, as if he had never stopped saying it.

You were in the shower when his message came through, you didn't pay the loud notification much attention, not even caring to glance at the device when you heard the familiar ding. You prioritized the small occasions you got to take care of yourself when your job is to take care of others.

Now freshly showered and in the kitchen making tea- the next step on your little routine- you hear a knock on the door, a distinct knock, a knock you could never forget, not even a billion years from now. Your heart stopped for a moment, heartbeat pounding in your ears, you didn't quite register you were moving towards the door until it was open and he was standing there, his brown eyes open wide once he registered your presence, reacting as though you opening the door was the last thing he expected. You just stood there for a few seconds, staring at each other until Spencer wrapped you in his arms like he used to, his nostrils flooding with the smell of your shampoo and body wash, smells he recognized all too well, smells that felt like home.

You pushed him away, shattering the brief feeling of happiness he had started to feel.

"What are you doing here?" You asked almost a little too loud in an attempt to hide the hurt in your voice

"I miss you" he replied eyes searching for yours.

You stood there, arms folded, trying to hide how weak those words made you feel. He had no right to miss you, not after leaving the way he did.

Why should I care? You thought to yourself. He made it clear that he didn’t care about you, but you cared, you cared so deeply that it made your heart ache.

You were not going to let him in.

"You can't just stop talking to me and then come here like nothing happened, Spence." You couldn't help using the nickname, your voice falsely steady, trying to hide the pain.

"I know, I just-can I come in?" No reply "Please"

You hesitated, gripping the door handle tighter as a tornado of emotions swirled on your chest. Anger. Hurt. Loneliness. You wanted to slam the door in his face, make him feel a small fraction of what you felt over the past 5 months. But buried beneath all these harsh feelings, there was something softer, something you felt ashamed to acknowledge: the echo of all the nights you stayed up worrying about him and what could happen in his work, all the mornings you woke up without the smell of coffee lingering through the apartment.

You let him in.

You tried to convince yourself that letting him in was about answers- you deserved an explanation, some sort of closure at least. But as you stepped aside and watched him walk past you knew that wasn’t the whole truth.

Because no matter how much he’d hurt you, part of you still longed for the man he used to be.

“This doesn’t change anything.” You muttered, as much to yourself as to him. He gave a slight nod in reply, eyes watering. Damn him and his big brown eyes.

 As you were turning around after closing the door behind you, he captured you in a hug again and you couldn't help but wrap your arms around him too.

★

Somehow, he ended up asleep in your bed and as you gaze at his peaceful resting face, your mind tells you to wake him up, tell him to go home and never come back, tell him that he doesn't get to leave and reappear whenever it suits him, tell him that he can fuck off for breaking your heart like that. Yet, you don't do any of that, because your heart tells you not to.

tysm for reading, likes and reblogs are always deeply appreciated

@angellic4l it's finally here bestieee!

[snakesafraidtodie]

Mediocre Reveal AU

So usually we see the Fentons in fic after finding out their son is Phantom, either being totally loving and supportive or horrendously hateful and destructive. But what if they were just... not great?

Like they try, right? But they still say bigoted and ignorant stuff. There's still micro-agressions. One reveal isn't gonna change anybody's entire world view. Just because they're not attacking Danny doesn't mean they're comfortable with it, accommodating or accepting of other ghosts.

"Those damn ghost scum!"

"I'm a ghost, remember?"

"Sure Dann-o, but you're different! You're not like them! You still hold onto your humanity. It's a heavy burden to bear, holding off the monster inside you, but you're doing so well and your mother and I are so proud of you!"

They could accept that he is a halfa but still dislike and discourage him from using his ghost side. Like coming out as bi to someone who thinks you should only act on your attraction to the opposite sex so that they can pretend you're straight.

It can be one of those things where you just... know your relatives have problematic views so in order to maintain the peace you just don't talk about it. I think it's pretty normal to have certain topics you avoid with certain people. Or try. There's always those family gatherings where you know you'll just have to grit your teeth as your uncle spews BS again.

So sure, if Danny understandably doesn't want to talk about ghosts with his parents once he's an adult, they can have a two minute phone call once a month were he listens to the tiny bit of small town gossip unrelated that Maddy and Jack have deigned to pay attention to and share a bit about his mundane life in return.

It's not great, but they're still his parents and it could be worse. They could still be actively trying to End him.

I'm picturing this could be perfectly utilized in a Dead on Main fic where Danny's parents are pestering him to meet his boyfriend and he reluctantly agrees. So they all meet up for lunch and Jason notices how the Fenton's keep casually dropping these disparaging comments about ghosts and gets pissed on Danny's behalf. Jason tries to defend him, which leads to an argument, which leads to Jason declaring himself undead, which leads to the Fentons instantly becoming disapproving of their relationship.

"Danny, how could you pick such a person for a partner! It could worsen your condition!"

"Deadness isn't contagious Mom."

"Yeah lady-"

"Don't you start again, Jason! I told you not to start a fight with my parents!"

"Me? They're the ones spouting garbage! I'm just trying to educate the so called experts-"

"I'll have you know young man-!"

And the whole meeting falls apart. Jason is mad Danny won't let him defend him, Danny is mad Jason made a scene. The Fentons are mad that their son's boyfriend is a rude undead who is corrupting their boy. It's a mess. Y'know. Typical meeting the in-laws drama.

[leighsartworks216]

If You're Quiet During Sex (Headcanons)

Sylus x gn!Reader + Zayne x gn!Reader (separate)

Had this thought because I'm quiet During so I got a little self-deprecating about what they'd think about it... but then I remembered the boys would never make me feel ashamed for that shit

Warnings: sexual content

Word Count: 434 (cool, it's like a little kissy face)

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Sylus

Probably thinks he's not making you feel good enough at first

Shocked when you orgasm because you were so quiet, surely he didn't make you cum already???

Brings it up right away, asks if you liked it

Admits that he expected you to make more noise

If it's purely from inexperience or anxiety, he's more than happy to spend time breaking down those barriers. He won't force you to make noise, but he's definitely more forthcoming with his own sounds to encourage you. Any sound you do make, he's praising you for it and trying to draw it out of you again

If moaning really just isn't your thing, he just asks that you tell him if something feels good or bad. He wants to pleasure you, and he wants to make sure he's doing things you like when he might not notice your little tells in the heat of the moment

Either way, he does keep track of your tells. If you close your eyes and tilt your head back, mouth hanging open, small whimpers or shivers - he's looking for whatever it is that tells him you're enjoying yourself

He's moderately noisy during sex. He'll moan and talk, but it's not like he's trying to project it. It's more close to you, contained in the space between you both, but not so quiet he has to be in your ear to hear it

-

Zayne

I feel like he wouldn't question it as much

Because he's also not very vocal

He himself is very breathy and whines a little, but full moans are few and far between

Communicates a LOT about what you do and don't enjoy before, during and after

Sometimes requests you to speak (*ahem* "Say my name..." from Silent Poem, I'm looking at you), but never pushes you to be loud

If you're quiet because of anxiety or inexperience, he's as reassuring and encouraging as he can be. Would honestly be so proud of you if you start being louder and more vocal over time, because it means you're comfortable with him and that means the world to him. Says as much afterward, cuddling you and nuzzling into your neck with a lovestruck grin as he does

I wonder if you couldn't also influence him into being more noisy during sex. Command or beg him to say your name, tell you how good he feels, suck and bite at his most sensitive spots until he's a whining, simpering mess.....

Imagine his own surprise when you touch him and he lets out a very loud moan that even he wasn't expecting

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry

[kirammanswifey]

Hii, I read your pt 1 n 2 of arcane characters breaking up with their s/o

Would you be able to hurt us(me) even more? Like they took too long to get us back that R already move on with someone better

Pretty pretty please🥺?

what if you never reconciled with arcane's characters after the breakup x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: i loved the person who asked me to do this because i had thought about doing it but i didn't know if you guys wanted to read more of this but i guess we'll are masochist. so i ended up depressed after writing this, and that's saying a lot for a psychology student, the one i found the saddest and the hardest to write was jinx's, i love writing sad things but it's already too much suffering, later I'll come up with something lighter and nicer. as you guys know, requests are open ;)

break up link:

reconciliation link:

Viktor

The auditorium filled with applause as you finished your presentation. The project you had worked tirelessly on was finally being recognized. You felt proud, but also empty, as if something important was missing. As you looked up, you saw him. Viktor, at the back of the room, trying to go unnoticed, almost ready to leave.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized him. It had been two months since the breakup, two months of complete silence. Without thinking, you called his name. "Viktor."

He stopped, turning slowly toward you. The auditorium's light accentuated the paleness of his face, his sunken eyes, and his thin body seemed even more fragile. Concern washed over you instantly, but you held back the urge to approach and ask what was happening to him.

"How are you? How have things been going?" you managed to say, though your voice trembled slightly, betraying the calm you were trying to project.

"Fine." His response was cold, distant, almost mechanical. "The lab is progressing. The projects are going as expected."

Each word of his was a dagger, his formality making you feel like a stranger, as if you had never been part of his life. The lump in your throat grew, but you forced yourself to continue. You couldn't leave things like this.

"Why didn’t you reach out, Viktor? Do you still feel the same?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper, fearing the answer but needing to hear it.

Viktor closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before responding. "Yes, I still feel the same. What I’m doing is bigger than us. I can't afford distractions."

His voice was firm, but you could sense the slight hesitation, the pain he was trying to hide. Despite that, it hurt more than you expected. You nodded slowly, accepting the inevitable, though it broke your heart.

"Thank you for coming," you said coldly, matching the distance he had put between you. "I appreciate you taking the time to listen to me."

You turned around, ready to leave before the tears betrayed your façade. But as you walked away, you felt his eyes on you, almost as if he was waiting for something more, something you weren’t willing to give.

Viktor stood there, motionless, internally conflicted. In his mind, every memory with you fought against his convictions. He wanted to approach, to risk a second chance, to ask you to come back. The thought of losing you forever was suffocating him, but he also feared that his illness, his obsession with science, was too much for you to bear.

Finally, he decided to take that step, to approach you, to break the barrier he had built himself. But by the time he gathered the courage, it was too late. You had been intercepted by a colleague, a man who radiated health and vitality, someone who made you smile in a way Viktor couldn’t remember seeing for a long time.

From afar, Viktor watched, his heart breaking as he saw how the man made you laugh, how he looked at you with admiration. In that moment, he understood something he had always feared: you deserved someone better than him, someone who could be completely with you without the chains of science and illness.

He decided to leave, convinced that intervening would only cause you more pain. He didn’t know that as he walked away, you were watching him from afar, with a broken heart, wishing he had fought for you, even just a little more.

Jinx

Days passed after that heartbreaking farewell. The memories piled up in your mind, like broken pieces of a puzzle you could never put back together. Jinx's absence was a crushing weight, leaving you breathless, powerless. Her laughter, her mischief, her uncontrollable chaos... all had disappeared, and in their place, only an unbearable void remained.

One afternoon, as the rain furiously pounded against the windows and the sky was draped in gray, you couldn’t take it anymore. You knew exactly where to find her. On somber days, Jinx always sought refuge at the cliff, a place where the world seemed to end and the abyss opened before her like an invitation.

You ran through the rain, feeling each drop like needles on your skin, every step filled with a desperation that was suffocating you. When you reached the cliff, your heart stopped. Jinx wasn’t sitting, as she usually did, lost in her thoughts. She was standing, at the edge of the abyss, her slender figure barely visible in the mist.

But before you could take another step, she jumped.

The scream that tore from your throat was heart-wrenching, an echo lost in the wind. You ran to the edge, but what you saw below froze your blood. Jinx lay on the rocks, her body shattered by the fall, motionless, lifeless. The sight left you petrified, unable to move, unable to breathe.

The days that followed were torment. Guilt consumed you. What if you had arrived earlier? What if you had said something different? What if you had hugged her tighter? The questions haunted you, whispering in your ear that it was all your fault, that you hadn’t done enough to save her.

You didn’t eat, you didn’t sleep. You just returned to that cliff over and over again, hoping to find answers in the void Jinx had left. But all you found was more silence, more loneliness.

One night, when the moon barely peeked through the clouds, the weight became unbearable. You couldn’t go on without her. You decided it was time to join Jinx, to follow her steps into the abyss. You walked to the edge, feeling the cold wind on your skin, and looked down at the place where your love had met its end.

Then, a vision stopped you. Jinx appeared before you, but not like the last time. She was smiling, her gaze sweet and mischievous, like when she used to laugh at your jokes or drag you into her chaotic adventures. "Don't be sad, sugar," she whispered. "I'm here. I'll always be here."

Her words, though you knew they were just a hallucination, filled you with a strange comfort. You smiled, tears rolling down your cheeks. "I'm going to be with you," you promised her. And without thinking further, you leapt into the abyss, letting the darkness take you, driven by the desire to be with Jinx once more.

Upon impact, everything became silence. But in that silence, there was something more. A whisper, an echo of eternal love.

In every universe, in every possible existence, you two would always be together. Even in death, even in the void. Because your love was that strong, that eternal.

Vi

Vi had spent two years engulfed in a darkness she couldn’t escape. After you left her, everything became a whirlwind of underground fights and empty bottles. Each punch she took, each night spent alone in the darkest corners of Zaun, made her think of you, of what she had lost. In her mind, she was always sure you would come back for her, that your love for her would be strong enough to forgive her. But days turned into weeks, then into months, and eventually, years. And you never came back.

One day, a job brought her to Piltover. A corrupt politician had paid her to "teach a lesson" to someone who owed him money. The money was enough for Vi to accept without asking questions. She was walking through the gleaming streets of the city when her body collided with someone else's.

“Sorry,” she said automatically, but when she looked up, she was left breathless. It was you. More radiant than ever, with a presence that seemed to light up even the cold stone of Piltover. Vi couldn’t help herself, she hugged you tightly as if her life depended on it. “I missed you so much,” she whispered into your hair. But her world stopped when she didn’t feel your arms returning the embrace. Instead, your body was stiff, distant.

You gently pulled away, but your gaze was like a dagger. “What’s wrong?” Vi asked, her voice trembling with confusion and the pain now flooding her. “Why are you treating me like this?”

Your expression hardened, and your words were cold, sharp as steel. “Do you really expect me to welcome you with open arms after what you did? After what you said?” Your eyes burned with a fire Vi didn’t recognize, a fire from someone who had suffered and changed. “You left me, Violet. You said things that broke me. And now, after two years, you expect me to greet you like nothing happened?”

Vi tried to respond, but the words died in her throat. There weren’t enough excuses to explain what she had done.

You continued, not giving her a moment to breathe. “Things changed when you left, Violet.” You raised your hand, showing a ring that gleamed under the sunlight. “My parents married me off to someone from the Council. At first, I thought it would be the end of the world, that I’d never get over it. But now… now I’m happy.” You paused, letting your words sink into Vi like a slow-acting poison. “I have a family. I have stability. And I’m happy. With you, Violet, I would never have had that.”

Vi looked at you, unsure of what to do, what to say. In her mind, you were still the person who loved her, but now, standing before her, you had transformed into someone completely different.

At that moment, a man approached. Tall, in his thirties, with a well-groomed beard, and in his arms, a small child with a smile Vi instantly recognized as yours. The man kissed you on the cheek and then handed you the child. Your face lit up with love as you held him.

“Sweetheart, did you find what you were looking for?” the man asked, glancing at Vi with curiosity. “Is she a friend of yours?”

Vi felt like the ground crumbled beneath her feet. You looked back at her, but now, your eyes were just cold reflections of the past. “No,” you said with a tone that cut Vi to the core. “Just someone I used to know.”

Without another word, you turned away, the man beside you, the child in your arms, and the three of you walked off, a perfect picture of the happiness Vi had always dreamed of but could never achieve.

Vi stood there, motionless, in the middle of the street, as tears streamed uncontrollably down her face. Her entire world crumbled in that instant. Everything she had believed, everything she had hoped for, was gone. And now she knew she would live with regret for the rest of her life.

Caitlyn

The trial was a brutal display of coldness. You stood there, in the center, surrounded by the faces of Piltover who had once respected you. But now, you were nothing more than a traitor to them. Your hands were cuffed behind your back, your gaze fixed on Caitlyn, waiting... begging for her to say something, to defend you, to plead on your behalf. But she remained silent, rigid, her expression unyielding. The façade of the perfect enforcer intact, as you crumbled.

As you left the court, the cold air hit you harder than the judges' words. Caitlyn approached the guards, requesting to personally escort you to the edge of exile. Your eyes met hers, seeking answers, some sign that there was still something between you.

"Why?" you whispered, your voice breaking.

Caitlyn looked at you, her face colder than ever. "I did what I had to do," she said with a hardness that made you shiver. "If you had done the same, you wouldn't be in this situation."

There were no more words. No goodbyes. Just a chasm that opened between you, killing everything that had ever existed.

A year later, Piltover was burning in chaos. Zaun's gangsters had unleashed a revolt, and Caitlyn, always the leader, was on the front lines. The battle roared around her, but she didn't see the attacker coming until it was too late. The blade of a knife gleamed in the air, aimed at her, until a precise shot stopped the assailant.

Caitlyn turned, her rifle pointed at her supposed savior. "Back off," she ordered firmly, though her heart was racing.

The figure in front of her removed the owl mask, revealing a face that took her breath away.

"You're still an exceptional shooter, Cait," you said with a sad smile, your voice laden with painful nostalgia.

The chaos had ceased, the silence weighed between you. Caitlyn didn't understand how everything had ended so quickly, how her men had been immobilized. Her eyes filled with questions, and you, with a flash of understanding, gave her the answer before she could formulate it.

"It was us."

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. "Us?"

You laughed, a sound that carried both sadness and resignation. "I'm part of the Firelights. We heard about the revolt and came to the rescue. We don't want more trouble between Piltover and Zaun, so we stopped it to avoid reprisals."

Caitlyn's eyes widened, recognizing the rebel group that had caused so many headaches for the Enforcers.

"They took me in when I was exiled to Zaun," you continued with a touch of sadness. "They're my family now."

Caitlyn stepped forward, regret etching her face. "I... I missed you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I regret not defending you."

But before she could say more, a figure riding a hoverboard approached. Wearing a mask similar to yours, his dark skin and white hair gave him away: Ekko, the leader of the Firelights.

"All clear. Let's go, babe," he said, extending a hand to you. Then, he cast a sarcastic glance at Caitlyn. "Looks like the Enforcers don't know how to do their job anymore."

Caitlyn opened her mouth to protest, but you playfully smacked Ekko on the head. "Don't be cheeky," you chided, but the boy just smiled and kissed you tenderly.

Caitlyn froze, watching the scene with disbelief and pain. Seeing the love of her life with someone else was an agony she wasn't prepared to face.

You climbed onto the board with Ekko, but before leaving, you turned to Caitlyn. "I hope you can find happiness someday, Cait," you said softly, your words a reminder that sometimes justice isn't enough to fill the void in the soul.

And with that, you vanished into the air, laughing with Ekko, leaving Caitlyn alone, shattered. She stood there, staring at the spot where you'd disappeared, the regret devouring her inside. But she didn't allow herself to feel more. She had a mess to clean up and a report to deliver. There was no room for pain now, and that would always be her greatest flaw.

Jayce

It had been five months since the last time you saw Jayce, five months since that painful goodbye that had left your heart in pieces. But you didn't allow yourself to stay in that state. You channeled your pain into ambition, into a fierce determination to prove your worth beyond being "Jayce Talis' partner." You joined the world of politics, and against all odds, you managed to gain acceptance into the Council of Piltover.

The news of your rise had spread to every corner of the city, but Jayce, absorbed in his work with Hextech technology and his duties as a Council member, hadn't noticed your progress until that day.

The first Council meeting with your presence was a revelation. All the members praised you, impressed by your intellect and the innovative plans you had proposed for the city. But Jayce heard none of that. His attention was completely captured by you.

You looked different. Your hair, which you used to wear long and dark, was now short and dyed a vibrant coral red. The clothes you wore were more revealing, showing a confidence in yourself he had never seen before. It was as if you were a completely new person, someone who no longer depended on anyone's shadow.

When the meeting ended, Jayce approached you with his characteristic smile, the one that used to melt your heart. "I didn’t expect to see you here," he said with a mix of surprise and admiration. "It seems a lot has changed."

You returned his smile, but there was a touch of disdain in your eyes. "Yes, many things changed in my life when you left, Jayce. Everything got better," you said firmly. "I focused on my career and made a name for myself in Piltover for my skills and intelligence. I'm no longer recognized as Jayce Talis' partner. I'm no longer the pretty doll you used to take to those fancy parties."

Jayce frowned, his expression turning serious. "I never treated you like an object," he replied defensively. "That was always a misunderstanding. I just took care of you and gave you everything you wanted."

You shook your head slowly, your gaze steady on his. "No, Jayce. You clipped my wings. You didn’t let me be who I really am. And I'm so happy you left me because now I’m enjoying life, and I love who I am."

Jayce opened his mouth to say something, but you interrupted him. "There's talk that you have a relationship with Mel Medarda."

The surprise on his face was evident, but he quickly denied it, his tone defensive. "Of course not. We're just partners."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. "More like master and slave. It’s pathetic to see how you let yourself be influenced and manipulated by someone else. The Jayce I knew, the one I once loved, would never have allowed that."

Jayce barely heard the reproach. His attention was caught by your words. "You don't love me anymore?" he asked, his voice hurt and low.

You took a deep breath, your eyes meeting his with brutal sincerity. "No, Jayce. I don’t. I’ve moved on from you."

Jayce was left speechless, the emotional blow visible on his face. He hadn’t expected it to be so easy for you to forget him, especially when he hadn’t forgotten you.

Before you left, you stepped a little closer, your voice soft but firm. "And you know what the best part is, Jayce? I didn’t need to hook up with anyone else to do it. I got over you when I learned to focus on myself and my needs. You should do the same."

Without waiting for a response, you turned around and walked away, leaving Jayce there, paralyzed by the weight of your words. It was as if you had slapped him, leaving him breathless, not knowing how to recover from that loss. Because you would be a loss that would hurt him for the rest of his life.

Ekko

Months have passed since that last conversation that ended your relationship. Since then, Zaun has changed, and so have you. You've learned to live without Ekko, though the void he left still hurts. Fate, however, seems determined to cross your paths again. And it is on a rainy night, in an alley you used to walk together, that you meet once more.

Ekko is there, under the dim light of a streetlamp, his silhouette wet from the rain but heavier with guilt. He sees you approach, and something inside him breaks. Time hasn't healed his wounds, only made them deeper.

"I didn’t think I’d see you here again," he murmurs, his voice almost inaudible beneath the sound of the rain.

Your heart races at the sight of him, but you stay firm. "I didn’t think I’d see you again either."

Ekko's eyes scan you, searching for something to give him strength to speak. "How have you been?" he asks, knowing that any answer will be insufficient for the pain he caused.

"I managed," you reply coldly. "And you? Doesn’t Zaun need you anymore?"

Ekko lowers his gaze, ashamed. "Zaun will always need me, but... I've been thinking a lot about us. About what I did, about what I said."

"And have you reached any conclusions?" you ask, keeping your tone distant.

"That I was wrong," he admits, his voice breaking. "That each day without you weighs more on me. That I let you go out of fear, out of responsibility... but I never stopped loving you."

His confession hits you, but it’s not enough to erase the pain. "Ekko, you made your choice. You chose Zaun over us."

"I know," he says, taking a step closer but not daring to move further. "And I regret it. If I could go back, I would. But I can’t. I just wanted to say I’m sorry, that I miss you... that every day I regret more what I lost."

Silence takes over the moment. The rain continues to fall, cold and relentless, like the fate you both share. You look at Ekko, and for a moment, the love you still feel battles against the resentment.

"Ekko, love isn’t enough when it becomes a burden. I can’t go back to that, I can’t be your second place again," you say, trying to maintain your composure.

"I know," he replies, his voice barely a whisper. "But I wanted you to know that I’ll always love you. Even if I can’t fix it, even if I can’t win you back, you’ll always be a part of me."

"And you of me," you admit, finally letting the tears you’ve held back fall. "But it’s too late, Ekko. Too late for us."

Reality sets in, and both of you know it. Without words, you look at each other one last time, each trying to engrave that moment in memory. Finally, you turn away, leaving Ekko alone, with the rain as his only company.

As you walk away, something inside you stops you, as if there are still words left to say. You turn slowly, facing Ekko once more, with the rain falling between you like a curtain of memories and pain.

"Do you remember what you told me the last time we talked?" you ask, your voice trembling but firm. "You said that sometimes there are battles not worth fighting because you know you’ll never win them."

Ekko nods, the weight of his own words reflected in his tired eyes. "Yes, I remember. And I regret saying it."

"Don’t regret it," you say, a bitter smile forming on your lips. "Because you were right. This... us... we were one of those battles. I fought for you, for us, but in the end, we couldn’t win. We couldn’t be what we needed for each other."

Ekko closes his eyes, the pain in his chest intensifying. "I never wanted it to be like this. I never wanted you to lose faith in us."

"Faith wasn’t enough," you reply, your words cutting like a knife. "Not when the battle was lost from the start."

Silence takes over once more, each word a reminder of what was and will never be. Finally, you step back, moving away from Ekko and everything he represents.

"Goodbye, Ekko," you whisper, letting the rain wash away the last tears falling down your cheeks.

Ekko watches you leave, knowing those words will be the last you share. And as you disappear into the distance, his own regret consumes him, leaving him alone with the weight of a battle he should never have abandoned.

Silco

The lights flickered weakly in the brothel of the Undercity, as voices mingled with the clamor of incessant activity. Silco moved through the shadows, his presence as imposing as ever, closing a deal with one of his associates. Everything was going according to plan until his gaze stopped in a dark corner, and he saw you.

You were there, your makeup smeared, and your provocative clothing accentuating the marks of injuries that covered your skin. Silco felt a dry blow in his chest, a combination of anger and suffocating guilt. He couldn’t help but approach you, his hand gripping your arm firmly.

"What are you doing here?" he asked with a harsh voice, each word laden with tension he couldn’t hide.

You looked up, your eyes reflecting a mix of sadness and latent hatred, but a bitter smile formed on your lips. "I'm exactly where I should be, Silco. I should never have left this place in the first place."

Silco narrowed his eyes, his expression hardening even more. "Don’t give me evasions. I want the truth."

You sighed deeply, letting the facade fall. Your eyes locked onto his, this time without a trace of the smile. "You want the truth? Very well." Your voice was a whisper laced with pain. "When you decided to abandon me, many started hunting me. I survived some attacks, others I didn’t." Slowly, you brushed your hair aside, revealing the patch over your left eye. "They tore it out. And, like everything in this damn place, they sold it to the highest bidder. Some found it exciting to have the eye of Silco's former 'bitch.'"

The rawness of your words left him immobile. The trauma soaked every syllable, and the guilt Silco felt grew like an oppressive shadow. "I had no one to protect me, no place to go. This brothel was my last refuge. So here I am, back in the only place I should never have left. And surprisingly, I'm doing well. You’d be surprised at what they're willing to pay for an encounter with what once belonged to you."

Silco couldn’t bear the self-degradation in your voice. "I’m going to get you out of here," he said firmly. "I’ll pay whatever it takes and bring you back home."

He leaned in to hug you, but you pushed him away with a scornful gesture. "What’s the matter, Silco? Tired of your new acquisition already? Miss having me under your control, like your personal trophy?" Your voice was lethal poison. "Keep your promises. I’m not going back with you. You taught me that love is an illusion, a mirage that only serves to mask hatred and danger. And sadly, I’m surrounded by both."

Silco swallowed, his facade beginning to crack. "Please," he insisted, his voice tinged with an unusual tremor. "Let me fix this. Let me help you."

But you had already walked away, heading toward an exotic-looking man waiting for you in a corner. "If you’ll excuse me, I have to work."

Without giving him another glance, you left, leaving Silco alone, trapped in a whirlwind of regret and pain. In his attempt to protect you, it was he who had condemned you to this life, and now the weight of his decisions crushed him, plunging him into a darkness even he could not master.

Mel

It was an ordinary day when, upon opening your front door, you found Mel standing there, her eyes red from crying, her face filled with a despair so profound it moved you. Her posture, hunched and fragile, spoke more than any words could. Before you could say anything, she threw herself at you, seeking comfort as if her entire world had collapsed in an instant.

Words tumbled from her mouth in a rush, like a torrent of repressed emotions finally finding an outlet. "I’ve done it... I’ve done everything wrong... I don’t want to lose you. I can’t... please, don’t leave me. I need us to be together again. I can’t live with this lie. I love you, I love you, I’m begging you."

You held her in your arms, feeling her trembling body against yours, a refuge against the internal storm consuming her. You clung to her, hoping that all that had been broken between you could be repaired, but then, an unfamiliar voice interrupted the stillness of that moment.

"Sorry to interrupt," said a familiar female voice, with a tone that shook you. Caitlyn Kiramman appeared in the doorway, her hair disheveled, wearing a white shirt, almost translucent, that Mel recognized instantly. A shiver ran through her as she saw that the shirt belonged to you. Caitlyn smiled, somewhat awkwardly, but serene. "I’ll wait for you in the room," she said calmly before retreating into the house.

Mel, paralyzed, looked at you in disbelief, her anger beginning to awaken. "Seriously?" Her voice broke with disdain, but there was a contained fury in her eyes that you couldn’t ignore. "Caitlyn Kiramman? You couldn’t find a better replacement for me? Seriously?"

You stared at her for a moment before responding with a calmness that only masked the truth behind your words. "No, Mel, I’m not looking for replacements. Caitlyn isn’t here to fill any voids; she’s here for a good time. And let me tell you, she’s done an excellent job at that."

Mel clenched her fists, her face turning red with rage, frustration taking over her. "How could you? Did you cheat on me? With her? After everything we’ve been through?" Her words were sharp, like knives, and her pain became more evident with each passing second.

You remained serene, though something inside you was breaking. "What did you want me to do, Mel? Sit in a corner, crying in a bubble of self-pity, like you probably did all this time? No, Mel, I couldn’t just sit and wait for something to change. Life is too short to keep waiting for the impossible."

Mel’s words came out as a sigh of disappointment. "I’m so disappointed in you," she said, her voice trembling from the impact of your words.

You sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on your chest. "What we were living wasn’t real, Mel. It wasn’t enough for you, and it wasn’t enough for me either. You’ve been living in your mother’s shadow this whole time, looking for something you’ll never find. I can’t keep waiting for you to understand that. You got stuck in your world, and in the meantime, I moved on. I’m not going to apologize for that."

Mel, in tears, tried to get closer, a desperate attempt to capture what was already gone. She tried to kiss you, but you stopped her with unyielding firmness. "Mel," you said with a clear, firm voice. "Don’t do this. Don’t do this to yourself."

She fell to her knees, her face overflowing with pain. "I beg you... please, come back to me. You’re the only real thing I’ve had in my life. I need you, I can’t live without you." Her sobs were heart-wrenching, like a child lost in a cruel world.

You looked at her for a long moment, your heart heavy, but the words that came from your lips were inevitable. "And why didn’t you take care of me, Mel? Why did you let me go so easily? If you really loved me, why did you abandon me? Why did you let me face all of this alone?"

Mel didn’t know what to say. She stayed there, her mouth open, unable to offer any justification. She only murmured one last "I love you" in an almost inaudible whisper.

You sighed deeply, the weight of reality crushing you, and you gently lifted her from the ground, guiding her to the door. "Goodbye, Mel. I hope you can sort things out with your mother. I can’t keep being part of this battle."

The door closed with a dull thud, and it wasn’t just the door to your house that was closing, but also the door to your heart. There was nothing more to do. It was time to let go.

Sevika

The night was shrouded in a dense mist, and the bar buzzed with a mix of laughter, muffled conversations, and the clinking of glasses filled with liquid oblivion. The air was thick, saturated with the smell of tobacco, spilled alcohol, and sweat—a temporary refuge for broken souls. Sevika pushed the bar door open, stumbling slightly, her unsteady steps reflecting the state of her soul. Her dark, glassy eyes scanned the place with a mix of desperation and anxiety, seeking to drown the loneliness that pursued her like a relentless shadow.

When her eyes landed on the bar, her heart stopped for a moment that seemed eternal. There you were, behind the counter, moving with the professional grace of someone who had learned to hide pain behind a mask of indifference. Sevika felt the ground beneath her feet grow unstable, as if the earth itself was rebelling against her presence. She approached slowly, as if each step brought her closer to an abyss she wasn’t sure she wanted to cross.

When she reached the bar, she leaned on the counter with both hands, leaning toward you. Your gaze was a mix of surprise and something colder, something that made her shiver more than any strong drink.

"What do you want to drink?" you asked in a professional, restrained voice, your eyes barely shifting in her direction.

Sevika looked at you, desperately searching for any trace of the warmth you used to have. "I’ve missed you," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper before a knot in her throat broke it. "I’m sorry... God, I’m so sorry for how things ended between us."

She took your hands with unusual clumsiness, kissing them repeatedly as her words fell like broken laments. "I’ve been alone, so alone that I looked for others to forget you, but it didn’t work. No one can make me forget you. Please, give me another chance."

You sighed, and with a calculated gesture, called another colleague to replace you, leading her outside to the back alley. You lit a cigarette calmly, offering her one that she accepted in silence. Both of you smoked, the smoke forming an almost tangible barrier between you.

The silence was finally broken by a question that escaped as a rough whisper from her lips: "Why aren’t you saying anything?"

You finished smoking, dropping the cigarette and crushing it underfoot before facing her directly. "What do you want me to say, Sevika?" Your voice was low, but each word was a dart piercing Sevika's chest.

She frowned, surprised by the coldness in your tone. "I don’t know, something. Something that doesn’t make me feel like a fool."

"Why do you feel like a fool?" you asked, crossing your arms, one eyebrow slightly raised.

Sevika gritted her teeth, her fury beginning to bubble just beneath the surface. "Because I confessed my feelings to you, told you everything I went through, and it seems like you don’t give a damn."

You nodded, as if slowly processing her words before responding with icy calm. "And did you care when you left me? Did you think about how your decision would affect me? Did you think about anyone other than yourself?"

Her words caught in her throat, and for the first time, Sevika didn’t know what to say. Your smile was bitter, triumphant. "Of course not. You’re a selfish person, Sevika. You walked in here by chance, and upon seeing me, suddenly you miss me and want everything back. Well, I’m not buying that crap."

"It’s not like that," she denied desperately. "I miss you, really. I care about you."

Your frown deepened, and you shook your head. "It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. You made your decision, and you have no right to ask me for anything after what you did to me."

Sevika tried to interrupt, but you cut her off sharply. "My break is over. Don’t drink anymore tonight. You’re talking nonsense." And with that, you went back inside, leaving her there, alone in the darkness.

Sevika stayed in the alley, staring at the door that closed behind you, while rage and sadness fused into a silent scream. She punched the wall hard, letting the physical pain try to drown out the torment she felt inside. But deep down, she knew that punch wasn’t enough to erase what she had lost, nor to heal what she had destroyed.

[rocketbirdie]

I'm a relatively new follower, so I know you mostly for your ffvii posts, and at one point I decided to actually click on your blog and read your header, at which point I see "proud plesioth apologist". So I think to myself "I don't remember a character with "plesi" in their name, why are they being shipped with Sephiroth? At which point I spent several minutes googling stuff like "plesi ffvii" or "plesioth final fantasy" and getting nothing. Eventually I gave up, came back saw "monster hunter", and the penny dropped and I had to go lie down for a moment

HJGHAFSHDSGHFSD????

[fanficsbysteve]

Note: You can thank @weewoo911 for this idea not leaving my brain so I had to write it before I could continue on my other WIPs. Thank you for this and I hope you enjoy. I’m ignoring the Abby thing because that was BS, and I don’t like it. This will probably be multiple chapters. All from Tommy’s POV cause its more fun to write. Not sure how many chapters though. I'll keep you posted as I write them.

***

Tommy sat at the second floor table, his phone out, mindlessly scrolling through the various apps he had downloaded. Twitter, Tumblr, those kind of apps. The ones where you created a username and maintained some level of anonymity. He loved being able to spend time just looking at things he enjoyed without people knowing what he was doing or who he was. Lately all he had been doing though is reblogging images of actor Evan Buckley. Evan Buckley in “My Heart Yearns.” Evan Buckley in “Christmas in the Poconos.” Evan Buckley in “The Things That Ate You.” Evan Buckley in “What Happens Happened.” This man was currently the king of the B-Movies and Tommy loved every single one of them, owning many of them on DVD or Blu-ray so he could watch them over and over again.

Tommy was a gay man and was coming to terms with his homosexuality. He hadn’t told anyone in his life yet. That wasn’t any of their business. But he was slowly hating himself less as the days progressed. Maybe he would tell someone when he didn’t hate himself as much as he did, maybe Hen would be the best option. She was an out and proud lesbian with a loving wife, she wouldn’t judge him like he judged himself. He felt dirty looking at the pictures he did online. He felt horrible just thinking about the things that he wanted all those men to do to him. Particularly Evan Buckley. That man could do things that weren’t in any holy book to him, and Tommy would probably thank him for it. And it still made him feel dirty inside. Not nearly as much as others. Just a little. Nothing Evan Buckley did could make him feel completely like he was a horrible person going to hell.

So, Tommy was scrolling while they sat around the 118. It was quiet *knock on wood* and Tommy was enjoying the quiet time. They had finished all their various “chores” and Bobby was already cooking some dinner. Everyone knew to leave Bobby alone while he was in the kitchen, “Seen any good movies lately?” Chimney’s voice broke the silent revery that Tommy’s mind had taken. His real name was Howie Han, however everyone called him Chimney. Nobody really knows why, and Chim likes to keep it mysterious. Tommy thinks its because Chimney’s are tall and built well. However, their Chimney is anything but that.

Tommy looked up from his phone, “Nothing really. Just the usual B-movies that nobody really watches.”

“Why do you do that to yourself?” Hen asked looking up over the newspaper she had been reading, “They are always so painfully bad.”

“I know,” Tommy smiled, “But they make me laugh. You never watched Mystery Science Theatre 3000? They basically made a career out of watching the worst movies that cinema has to offer. And they are gloriously bad. Making up commentary for them is half the fun.”

“I’ll just have to take your word for it,” Chim replied, “I took Tatiana to see that new Marcel movie. Can’t remember what I was called but it was ok.”

“I’ll stick to my sappy RomComs and B-movies,” Tommy replied, “They never disappoint me to the point of forgetting a title.”

Tommy went back to his phone. He was on Tumblr right now, curating his queue, enjoying his timeline. It had taken him some time, but he had finally gotten it to the point where he enjoyed just spending hours scrolling, finding new posts for his own blog and queue. He admitted that he was a bit of an Evan Buckley stan account at this point. His posts were mostly either pics of Evan Buckley, gifs of Evan Buckley, videos of Evan Buckley, or stories written about Evan Buckley. He was just so handsome, and it made Tommy’s stomach turn itself over and over. From the tattoos that covered his body in special places, so that adorable little birthmark above his eye. Tommy wanted to plant a kiss on that mark so badly.

Tommy went to the kitchen to get another refill on coffee. He hadn’t slept much the night before but that was his own fault. He had gotten distracted by watching Evan Buckley movies and he just wanted to finish at least one. One lead to another and suddenly it was an hour before he had to get up and get ready for work. Tommy visibly yawned as he poured another cup, “Late night?” Bobby asked while he cooked.

“Just got distracted,” Tommy replied, “Didn’t realize what time it was and just didn’t end up sleeping much. Coffee is my best friend today.”

“I’ve had those nights,” Bobby smiled, “Usually they involved a beautiful woman.”

Tommy choked a bit on his coffee at the face that Bobby made at him, “um…uh…yeah…beautiful woman,” was all that Tommy managed to get out of his mouth before he hurried away, his face beet red.

He sat down in his chair and pulled his phone back out. He went back to his absent scrolling, smiling inside at all the new pictures of Evan Buckley that were appearing online recently. He had gotten a starring role in a TV show that hadn’t been announced yet, but Tommy was a premium member of the Evan Buckley fan club, so he got all the insider information. He admitted that it was childish to have that membership, but nobody knew who he was, and he was the only one who knew he had it, so why not. It got him all kinds of insider information, and he was a Millennial, so he was allowed to do this. Evan was supposed to be filming the pilot for this show he was cast in sometime in the next few months. Tommy would definitely be watching that show.

“Dinner’s ready,” Bobby announced as he put plates of food on the table. They always served family style, taking what you wanted from the plates and passing them along. It was a tradition that Bobby had started. It was never like this during the Gerrard Era or any of the other dozen chiefs they had since. Just Bobby wanted to make the changes that made working at the 118 better.

“So, I have an announcement to make,” Bobby said as everyone had plated up their meal and was starting to eat, “We will be having someone come and shadow us a little bit for the next few months. They will be filming a new show called HotShots soon. It’s a show about firefighters, and they want some of their actors to get some firsthand experience. To add to the realism. The higher ups have approved of this as they feel this would be really good PR for the LAFD. Several different stations have had different actors who have been cast in the show come shadow us for a bit.”

“Any idea who we got?” Chimney piped up, “Hopefully it’s Samantha Callens, I heard she was cast in something and maybe it was this. She can really learn what its like to be a female firefighter from our Hen here.”

“Shut it Chim,” Hen piped up.

“No, we have someone different,” Bobby said. He pulled out his phone to check his emails, “Give me a second here to find it. Ah yes, we have someone named Evan Buckley coming.”

Tommy did a spit take with the coffee he had just been drinking, sending it flying across the table. Nobody was sitting across from them so that was a blessing, “You know that guy?” Chim asked having dodged to the side to avoid the coffee, Chim was in the chair next to the spot opposite Tommy.

“No…not really…he’s just been in a couple movies I’ve watched,” Tommy stuttered, trying to wipe up the coffee he spat all over up.

“Well, he starts tomorrow,” Bobby said, “And I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour.”

Tommy sat down in his chair, his heart racing and threatening to burst out of his chest. Evan Buckley was going to be here, in the 118, with Tommy. Tommy silently took his phone out and looked at the top of his Tumblr page, staring at his username: kinardbuckleyxoxo was all it said. Tommy knew that it was going to be a long few months. Very pleasant. But also, very long.

***

Note: Chapter 1 complete. Chapter 2 the real fun begins. I usually try and make sure that I have at least a buffer of a few chapters going before I post but I wanted to get this out into the universe so that people can let me know if they enjoy it. So, leave me some comments and likes and give me any feedback you want. Also if anyone has a fun title idea, please let me know cause I'm at a loss. (I may have written this in an hour and a half after I woke up and saw the idea from @weewoo911)

[lavellansvh3nan]

A Letter From Inquisitor Lavellan to Dorian Pavus

//OOC//: Hello again! These letters won’t leave my brain so I’m churning them out while the muse is there. Enjoy!

My friend,

I can practically see you brooding, you know. Which is your right and your past-time, by my count.

I won’t sit here and try to make excuses for my choices, there are no good ones anyway. I want you to know that no matter what, I never meant to hurt you. But that doesn’t make you less angry with me.

Perhaps I’ve caught you in a more benevolent mood, willing to hear me out. If Bull is near you when you read this letter, remind him that he owes me one. Or more likely you’ll crumple up this letter, probably set it on fire, and only spare a thought for me when you’re telling embellished stories around a gorgeous dining table. Either way, you are owed an explanation.

I remember when you told me of your intentions to try and change Tevinter. I was so proud of you, because I knew if anyone could make change in their home, it was you. The idea of watching my friend leave, knowing that it would be unlikely we’d see each other more than a handful of times among the years, was difficult to swallow. Especially after all you did to bring me back to life when Solas left.

You can say his name, you know. He isn’t going to appear around a corner and lunge at you. I’ve made him promise not to.

What you did for me in the months following his departure is a debt I’ll never be able to repay. I’ve known the love of a mother, a father, a lover, and a friend, but perhaps yours exceeds all of them. For yours is a loyalty, a steadfastness, a patience, that only comes with knowing someone completely and choosing to be with them in their dark moments.

Bathing me when I was covered in paint. Filling the endless silence of my despair with your constant prattle, being with me every single day I didn’t know what to do or how to move forward, it is a love I had never experienced or will ever experience again. It is unique to you.

When I finally came back to myself all those months later, realized you’d put your plans on hold for me, I was appalled. I assured you I would be fine and you finally went on your way. To start the life I knew you deserved. And look at all you’ve done! Minrathos and the Shadow Dragons would be nothing without your leadership.

I’ve spent the last eight years wondering what I would ever do if the chance came to see Solas again. In those first years, I was angry. And then I was lost, for a long time, though I think you were the only one who truly saw it.

Being the Inquisitor gave me purpose. I knew Thedas needed me. I wanted to help in whatever way I could, especially considering we’d inadvertently unleashed Solas on the world. And then there was the waiting, wondering when he’d strike. If he really intended to take us all down with him.

Over the years, I’ve spoken to so many about whether or not I believe Solas capable of tearing down the Veil. You, Bull, half the Inquisition, really. Most everyone agreed that Solas needed to be stopped by any means necessary. That he was a monster.

What was your poetic phrase? “A madman with the moral superiority of a guilty noble.”

Varric was the only one who believed Solas could be swayed. Told me that really, all Solas wanted was a reason not to go through with his plan. After what happened when Solas took my arm, I didn’t want to believe him. It was too painful to hope.

But then the reports came in, bit by bit from Varric. Noted from Solas, personal journals. Like he was leaving clues for us to find. As if his pride refused to relent but Solas, my vhenan, wanted us to stop him.

It wasn’t until I spoke with Rook, actually, that I knew for certain that if I saw him again, when I saw him again, things weren’t through between us.

Call it soulmates. Call it a connection through space and time. Or, call me a fool, as you already have. All are probably correct. But I’ve know since the moment I met Solas that something tied me to him. When I saw him again, I didn’t see the Dread Wolf. I saw my vhenan, beaten and broken and tired. Drowning in his regrets, a slave to what he thought was his journey to redemption. And in that moment, I swore Varric was standing there right beside me, telling me that the one thing that would sway Solas was love. And he was right.

Especially after his final encounter with Mythal (That is another letter entirely. One I know you’re dying to read, so if nothing else, allow me to indulge you in my next response)

To be perfectly clear— I do not love him more than you. I could love no one more than you. No matter where I go, I’ll be with you. Just as you told me when you returned to Tevinter. But it is different. Just as you have Iron Bull, and we both know logic has no place in your relationship with him.

*the last sentence is a crossed out line, still legible, as though Lavellan is teasing Dorian*

Now, this isn’t goodbye. This isn’t even see you later. Solas has assured me I can enter and leave the Fade whenever I choose. Thanks to Rook, there are plenty of Eluvians available for me to come and visit. If you’ll have me. I understand you plan to pout, to hate me for a few weeks, as is your right. Don’t brood too long, however. I know you’re chomping at the bit to know all that’s transpired.

Just know, I’ll never be far from you.

With love, always,

Elliana

[tgmsunmontue]

To wake, perchance to dream 6/6

Hangster - Jake wakes up ~13 years in the future and thinks he has amnesia. Instead it's a glimpse of what his life could be. When he wakes up right before being called back to Top Gun for the special detachment he's going to try his damndest to make that future come true...

Edited to add: One of the first piece of TGM I saw was this amazing piece by @beezelarts as well as this follow on one (both of which I have printed and up on my wall). They both deserve ALL THE LOVE. I stared at them both a lot while drawing this last chapter.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

                “Why do you put up with me?”

                “Well that’s a stupid question.”

                “Jake. I’m serious.”

                “So am I. Why do you put up with me? When I’m angry and I say hurtful things or piss you off… Why do you put up with me?”

                “Because I love you.”

                Jake looks at him and tries to convey just how much of an idiot he thinks Bradley is being. He remembers future Bradley, how alarmed he’d been at Jake having to deal with all his shit. He wonders if getting those two days of his future were offered as an incentive to not give up. Wonders what he did to deserve it. Or whether it’s somehow Bradley that deserves him.

                “Do you think I love you any less than you love me?”

                “It’s not a competition.”

                “Good thing, because if it was I’d win. I put up with you because I love you. All of you,” Jake says, flicking him on the forehead to drive his point home, and it makes him feel more settled as well when Bradley startles at the sharp pain but then laughs, captures his hand and kisses over the knuckles.

                “Oh.”

                “Oh he says. Oh. Did you think I was lying all those times I said it?”

                “No. No. I just…”

                “You thought I only loved certain parts of you?”

                Bradley shrugs, unable to meet his eyes and Jake shakes his head. They’ve come a fucking long way in sixteen months however he expects they’ve still got a chunk of work ahead of them. However Bradley is working with him now, rather than against him or trying to break up, so it’s so much better. It helps that Bradley is back in the air, flying again and while Jake is proud of him he’s also waiting for the day when Bradley decides he’s had enough. Knows it has to be soon if the rough timeline he sketched out is accurate.

                “I’m… I’m going to make myself some tea. You want any?”

                “Of course…”

                Tea making is almost a ritual now between them, and he’s always dropped everything when Bradley has said he’s making tea. It’s for moments of quiet, but also deep conversation, reassurance and also the simple act of making it now grounds Jake in a way nothing else does. He knows it’s similar for Bradley, that if he wants to talk something out, he’ll make an entire pot of tea. Jake watches as he reaches for the stupid pot that is painted like a rooster and wonders if this is the moment. Watches Bradley turn over the little three-minute timer he’d bought and watches him watch the sand fall through the hourglass silently. He knows from experience to not interrupt the silence now. Bradley is gathering and organizing his thoughts.

                “I… I think I’m going to retire.”

                And there it is. All of the sand hasn’t even fallen through.

                Another piece falling into place.

                “Okay.”

                “Okay? Just okay?”

                “You want me to talk you out of it?”

                “I… no? I… fuck. I don’t know. I don’t know. What am I going to do if I’m not flying planes anymore?”

                Jake knows exactly what he’s going to do, but he can’t, won’t, just blurt it out. He wants Bradley to figure it out for himself. Reaches a hand across the counter and wiggles his fingers and waits impatiently for Bradley to hold his hand. Grips it tight and jiggles it to give his next words more weight.

                “How about, how about you find a dream you actually want huh, rather than chasing what you think someone else would want for you? You have time…”

                “Yeah. I guess.” Jake hums. “I think I’ll talk to my therapist about it…”

                “I think that’s an excellent idea,” Jake says, and he wonders if it’s them that places the seed in Bradley’s mind.

                “When did you get so smart?” Bradley asks and Jake snorts.

                “I’ve always been smart. You were just too busy to notice.”

                “Oh no, I always noticed you. I meant… you’ve gotten smart about me. It’s like… you sometimes know what I need even before I do.”

                “Just been paying attention Bradshaw…”

                “Bradshaw is it?” Bradley asks, eyebrow quirking up and Jake raises both his eyebrows in response, because he’s never going to get sick of flirting with him.

                He knows it to his core.

…            …            …

                “What do you think about me becoming a therapist?”

                “I think you’d kill it.”

                “Jake. Be serious.”

                “I am being serious! You would make a great therapist…”

                “I… you really think so?”

                “Babe. Bradley… why’d you join the Navy?”

                “To fly.”

                “If you hadn’t made it into aviation, what would you have done? Stayed?”

                “Yeah. Probably.”

                “Why?”

                “What do you mean why?”

                “Deeper than flying… why did you join?”

                “To…” Jake waits. He’s pretty sure he knows why, suspects Bradley’s therapist also knows why but Bradley hasn’t maybe put it together yet. “To serve… well. To help people I guess.”

                “Hmm. Like I said. I think you’d be pretty good at it.”

…            …            …

                So their lives shift a little again, and Bradley goes back to study, and he’s going to the same University as Amelia and suddenly he gets why and how Amelia becomes so entrenched in their lives. She spends the first year in the dorms, and Bradley rattles around in a two-bedroom apartment. Bradley has never lived alone and while he’s away Jake worries, so when he suggests Amelia maybe move in and they live together everyone treats him like it’s a genius solution. Which finds him, the summer before her second year helping her move in. While she’ll keep Bradley company while Jake’s deployed, her living with Bradley has made both Penny and Mav feel an infinite sense of relief about her living off-campus.

                “I feel much better about her living with you than in a sorority house or… well. I know you’ll keep an eye on her,” Maverick is saying and Jake catches Bradley’s eyeroll from across the room. Penny is busy cleaning the kitchen and doing a deep clean, which he knows Bradley is going to appreciate. Eventually. Once everything is back where Bradley wants it.

                “Yeah, because she’s totally going to want to hang out with me…” Bradley says with a grin towards Amelia and she grins back.

                “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re okay looking for an older guy, might make me look a little more interesting if I’m seen talking to you…”

                “You hear this Jake? I’m okay looking!”

                “For an older guy. I mean… I’d fuck you,” Jake calls back with a grin and Amelia pretends to vomit. Penny calls out a reprimand and all three of them roll their eyes, because they’ve all heard Penny swear a blue-streak.

                “Can you two ever not be gross?”

                “Nope.”

                He likes Amelia living with Bradley, it means he doesn’t worry so much when he’s deployed. That Bradley will make sure Amelia eats, and therefor taking care of his own needs. Plus he starts messaging Amelia for behind the scene updates and she doesn’t disappoint and Jake gets daily candid photos of Bradley doing domestic shit, or passed out cold on the sofa, or on campus meeting with his study group. When he comes back she makes herself scarce for twenty-four hours and then he takes her out for an expensive meal, which is apparently an acceptable trade.

…            …            …

                “This weekend! We’ve got forty-eight hours man. You said you wanted to be my best man, well, time to be the best…”

                “What?”

                “We’re getting married this weekend! Sunday!”

                Jake freezes, because they hadn’t set a date and he’d sort of been drifting, knowing that it was going to be ten-years from whenever they got married. And now he has a date. One only two days away.

                “Why are we in such a rush?”

                “You’re here, I’m here, Nix is here… Bradshaw can get here. She wants it in the small chapel on base, the one with those big pale wood arches. Plus we don’t want to wait anymore.”

                “Holy shit. Yeah. Okay. Fucking… tell me what you need me to do.”

                He rings Bradley, tells him he needs to get on a plane if he wants to stand up as witness for Nix. Of course Bradley drops everything, Amelia insisting on coming and Jake knows that that’s how it’s going to work, she’s going to be as big a part of Javy and Nix’s kids’ live as he and Bradley will be, so her being at the wedding feels right. Then Jake finds himself organizing a cake and a simple flower bouquet. Javy and Nix both have given him very strict instructions to not even think the word wedding when talking to anyone.

                The service is going to be small and private, set for the afternoon after the standard Sunday morning service. They have a week before they both get deployed again, so Jake searches for a resort within an hour drive which also has a honeymoon suite available, books it for them for five nights and lets them know he’s sorted his and Bradley’s wedding present to them.

                He’s pretty proud of what he and Javy have managed to achieve. The chapel didn’t need any decorating, but the Hard Deck, where they’re having the reception of sorts tomorrow evening, well, he supposes he has Penny and Amelia to thank for that, along with Maverick and Bradley. They’ve found soft fairy lights and large white paper lanterns and the whole place is unrecognizable as their usual watering hole. Except he recognizes it. It’s exactly like it is (was?) in the photos he can still remember looking at. As they shut up for the night everything is set for tomorrow and Jake doesn’t know why he’s so nervous.

                It’s not his wedding.

…            …            …

                Bradley has the confidence to look good in a hessian sack, and the legs to pull it off. In a tailored suit he looks mouthwatering. Jake knows he isn’t too shabby looking himself, glad he has an excuse to wear his suit rather than his dress uniform.

                “You look good…” Bradley says, giving him a slow sweep with his eyes and Jake laughs.

                “I am good…”

                “Fuck yeah you are…”

                “Not how it’s meant to go, but I’ll take it…” Jake says with a smirk, because he gets it now, why Bradley had looked at him so weirdly when he’d told Jake he looked good and he’d replied with a simple good morning. Fuck, no wonder Bradley believed him. That and Jake told him. At the wedding that they’re both at right now. Javy and Nix have disappeared somewhere for some photos, but Jake knows that they’re going to come through the doors, with Nix wearing a different dress from the one she got married in but looking no less gorgeous or happy.

                “Want to hear something really crazy?” Jake asks, leaning against Bradley for the reassurance of his presence, hopes he manages to come across as… sincere rather than insane.

                “Crazier than deciding to get married within two days?”

                “Yeah. Much crazier…” Jake says, and he’s still hold the half-filled champagne glass they’d used to toast Javy and Nix earlier. “I’ve seen photos of this… of this moment right here that we are in right now.”

                “How much have you had to drink?” Bradley asks with a laugh, taking the glass from his fingers.

                “Four sips of that champagne.”

                “So… what? You’ve got a sense of déjà vu?”

                “No. More than that… Just… imagine this with me. One day, actually, exactly ten years in the future, we’re happily married; I wake up and your arms are around me. Javy and Nat are off celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary and we’re looking after their three kids. They love and trust us enough to look after these three precious little humans. So I wake up and I don’t remember any of that. All I remember is being on a carrier stationed near Japan and suddenly I’m not anymore.”

                “What are you…”

                “Just… listen. So in ten years if I act a little weird for a couple of days, well, you made me fall in love with you over the space of a weekend… showed me how well we work together. I’m looking forward to filling in all the blanks.”

                “You’re… Jake. Are you being serious right now…”

                He shrugs.

                “Maybe it was just a dream. But it was a very fucking vivid dream. And I’d put money on Natasha and Javy coming through that door, she’s changed to a salsa dress and Javy’s going to be wearing suspenders and looking ridiculous, but they’re going to do a surprise dance number for us… we have a photo of it on the wall.”

                “Oh my god, you’re serious. Jake.”

                “I fell in love with you in this dream, and it made me want that with you so much… and I kind of figured if I could make you fall in love with me then we might get a chance at this happily ever after dream of mine.”

                “You’re a secret romantic… I mean, I knew that already. But just getting it confirmed again. I love you, you weird strange man.”

                “Mmm. Yeah. Love you too.”

…            …            …

                With the wedding photos now available he starts building the photo albums for his future-past self, and even if it’s all crazy and it never happens he doesn’t want to take the chance. Also he finds going through all their photos and picking the ones for including in a book to be an activity that brings him a lot of joy, seeing all their happiest moments and proudest achievements frozen in time.

…            …            …

                When they’re on vacation in the Rockies and Jake recognizes the view, stands there and takes it in with a deep breath, turns back to see what the hell is keeping Bradley only to find him on bended knee holding a ring box and even though he knew he would end up marrying him, having someone declare they love you so much they want to spend the rest of their live with you makes him burst into tears. He takes so many photos through blurry eyes, knowing that at least one is going to turn out so he can include the view in the photo album.

…            …            …

                Their bands are simple gold, although they’re made from gold melted down from Bradley’s parents wedding rings and a bangle that used to belong to his mom. Maverick had insisted on him keeping it all, and when Bradley gets a little emotional slipping the ring onto Jake’s finger he knows the moment is bittersweet, the fact that his parents aren’t here sad but the joy of the day will be everlasting. A photo of their joined hands, both showing off their rings, means more than just the start of their marriage. It encompasses their pasts too and he goes through the process of changing his name to Bradshaw.

…            …            …

                They have their honeymoon on a small island in the Pacific Ocean, and despite Jake’s insistence that Bradley didn’t use high enough SPF sunscreen and reapply it often enough after swimming Bradley gets terribly sunburnt on their third day. Fortunately the air conditioning in their private cabin is good, and they’re more than happy to spend the time together in bed. When the worst of it is over though Bradley starts peeling, making it somehow look worse and when they venture out to the night markets to find food Bradley gives him such a stink eye after he snaps a quick picture and sends it to the group chat.

…            …            …

                There are moments which he doesn’t capture. Natasha and Javy inviting him and Bradley over for dinner and telling them that they’re expecting a baby. That they’d like Jake and Bradley to be the godparents, and legal guardians, and that they want them both involved in the family care plan, seeing as they both still serve. Bradley’s jaw drops but Jake knew, hoped, and he wonders when he starts looking for their house. Their home. Of course both he and Javy are deployed when Nix gives birth to Alleisha, but Bradley is there for the birth, sounds fairly awed and disgusted by the whole process. Amelia makes herself invaluable and he knows now that she’s a speech and play therapist. Her and Bradley talk about things that overlap, but Bradley doesn’t ever work with kids, but he is good with them. One of Jake’s new favorite pastimes is watching Bradley hold Alleisha.

…            …            …

                He sees the notice and does a double take, because there’s a photo and he finds himself paying more attention to those these days than he ever has before. The dog looks like Thea. Bradley’s Thea. He wonders if he’s the one that gets Bradley a puppy. He snaps a picture of the flyer to show Bradley. When he raises it later, whether Bradley has ever thought of getting a dog, he gets a shake of the head and a weird look. Apparently Carole was allergic. Huh. Okay. Maybe things will be different.

                Of course he comes home two days later and finds a book about therapy dogs on the counter and he grins at it, raps his knuckles against it and then turns to find Bradley watching him from the doorway.

                “Am I getting a dog?” Bradley asks, and it’s like this sometimes, like he thinks Jake is somehow psychic and he guesses he does have quite a few insights about their future, but they’re more like markers laid out on a trail and he has to find all the paths between the points. He tries to keep them to himself for the most part, not wanting to enjoy the moments and time he has.

                “I don’t know. Do you want a dog?”

                “I didn’t think so. But I had my therapy appointment today.”

                “Yeah?”

                “And my therapist had a friend visiting who breeds therapy dogs. And that picture you showed me? That was her.”

                “Oh shit…”

                “Hmm. Her current litter is all spoken for, but Ali asked me if I would be interested in one from the next litter.”

                “That’s a hell of a coincidence…” Jake says.

                “Yeah well, I said I was. So I guess I’m getting a dog.”

…            …            …

                He’s deployed when Bradley sends him the link to several house listings, and then he sees it. Pictures of their house and his heart swells. There it is. He sends back this one. Bradley asks him if he’s sure, says it needs a lot of work. Jake replies that he’s as certain about the house as he is about loving him and that’s all that Bradley needs to make an offer. When he steps inside the first time his eyes widen, because it is nothing like he remembers but also Bradley had said it needed a lot of work. He wasn’t fucking joking.

                “I hope you like DIY…” Bradley murmurs, coming up behind him and pressing against him and Jake looks around, remembers photos of them painting and grins to himself.

                “Yeah, I think I’ll like it fine…”

…            …            …

                They have a trip to the beach, Nix and Alleisha firmly planted under a sun umbrella when Javy pulls out a soccer ball. He remembers the pain in his knee and he wonders if he should maybe avoid playing if it means he doesn’t get hurt. Except he can’t. He can’t not take part and he tries to be careful but when he feels his foot shift on the sand and his body weight goes the wrong direction over his knee he knows. He doesn’t try any heroics like walking on it. Tells Javy and Bradley both that they’re going to have to carry him and take him to the hospital immediately; asks for icepacks to assist with the swelling. Javy looks at him like he’s crazy but Bradley looks at him with wild eyes.

                “It’s my ACL and LCL. I’ll need surgery but I will fly again. Going to have to get used to having me around for a bit though…”

                Of course Bradley rolls his eyes, has words with Jake later about why he didn’t avoid the injury and he shrugs, says he doesn’t have it in him not to be competitive and kick a ball around with Javy. The benefit of being on light duty while he recovers and rehabs his knee means he’s there for James’ birth and holy shit. He gets why Bradley didn’t want to do it again.

…            …            …

                He smears the paint down Bradley’s naked chest, and the dark blue looks really nice against his skin. He says as much and Bradley twists against him, laughs and tries to buck him off where Jake’s got him pinned.

                “Uh uh Bradshaw… going to take you apart…”

                “Jake… the paint… it’ll dry and make a mess…”

                “Don’t care. We can buy more paint. We can clean up the mess… want to make another sort of mess right now.”

                With that declaration Bradley stops fighting and instead reaches to bring him down for a kiss and Jake grins into it, because he likes getting his way.

                Later, when Amelia and Bradley are both laughing at him over glasses of wine as he clips chunks of dried paint out of his hair he is less happy, but he still wouldn’t change anything.

…            …            …

                “Bradshaw… any relation to Nick Bradshaw?”

                “My late father-in-law,” Jake provides, and the eyebrows of the Admiral in front of him shoot up.

                “You married…”

                “Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw. Retired. Nick Bradshaw’s son.”

                “Huh. Means you must know Maverick as well then. I’m sorry Captain, what was your name previously?”

                “Seresin sir. Much prefer keeping the Bradshaw name and legacy alive and well instead.”

                There is a flash of recognition at his old name, because he’s just as legendary as Maverick now, if not better because he’s also known as someone who has saved Maverick’s life in the top-secret mission that of course everyone has heard rumors about. It’s years ago now though, and he doesn’t need to think anymore about his signature when he signs paperwork.

                “Fair enough.”

…            …            …

                Bradley buys him a camera for his obsession with taking photos and he enjoys it, becomes the unofficial photographer of their wider group of friends even though he’s got his own reasons for taking the photos. However he continues documenting all their vacations and gatherings, takes family photos and candid shots of them just hanging out. He doesn’t take any of it for granted, still occasionally blinks awake from sleep with his heart pounding and the knowledge that his life would be very different if he’d been a second later.

…            …            …

                When Brandy is born Javy is not deployed and both he and Bradley tell him he’s on his own. Instead they look after Alleisha and James, their bedroom is the biggest one in their house and there’s already a crib ready and waiting for when Brandy is old enough to start staying over. He startles then, realizing that it’s getting closer. The ten-year anniversary of Javy and Nat’s wedding. He pulls out a phone and looks at the calendar for 2035. Their anniversary is on a Friday next year. He has about nine months to prepare and he submit his leave request immediately.

…            …         ��  …

                Of course he doesn’t get nine months. He’s deployed for a long six-month stint and he knows he’s missing some key moments in Brandy’s life, having seen so many of James’ while he was rehabbing his knee. However he’ll be home two weeks before the wedding anniversary and that’ll give him plenty of time to reacquaint himself with his husband before he… well. He’s not sure where he might go while his younger self is going to be hanging out in his body. He wonders if he’ll be back on the carrier in Japan and suddenly scrambles for memories that he might have to recall. Maybe he’ll just fake a stomach bug and get quarantined for the duration.

                “I can’t believe it’s been almost ten years…”

                “Best ten years of my life… and then some,” Jake murmurs, pressing a kiss onto the naked skin of Bradley’s shoulder. “Ten years…” Jake repeats and Bradley startles a little.

                “Yeah. Tenth anniversary. You uh…”

                “I remember what I told you… I still have no idea what the hell happened, or if it is even real but I guess we’ll know soon enough.”

                “Yeah, I guess we will.”

…            …            …

                He wakes under the weight of Bradley’s arm, his entire body pressed up tight against the line of Jake’s back, including a semi-hard erection and he knows without even opening his eyes that he’s back home, right time and right place, right name and also that while he can’t explain it he’s also not been fucking imagining what happened. He rocks back against Bradley’s cock and feels joy bubbling away through his entire body.

                “Mmm… Jake.”

                “Morning.”

                “Mmm,” Bradley mumbles, snuffling into the back of Jake’s hair and he keeps rocking, can feel the effect it’s having, can feel Bradley beginning to rock back into the friction, seeking it out. Then he’s gone, sharply pulling away, snapping on the bedside light and Jake winces and shades his eyes.

                “What the fuck Bradley…”

                “Are you…”

                “One hundred percent me, back to normal.”

                “You’ve never been fucking normal a day in your life…”

                Jake laughs.

                “Glad to have me back?”

                “Yes! Oh my god. So glad. I completely forgot… you let me sleep in! You… how the fuck did you just wake up and not freak the fuck out? I stress cleaned Jake. Our house is fucking spotless.”

                “Oh yeah… I remember that. I thought you were putting off having sex with me…”

                “That’s what I was stressing out about! You didn’t seem any different!”

                “You can have sex with me now. Again… also I was plenty freaked out but I also remember feeling pretty pleased that I had somehow gotten married to you.”

                “Oh my god… how… what even...”

                “I don’t know. Some things just can’t be explained I guess. Now going to give me my standard welcome home?”

                “Jake…”

                “Mmm… I fell in love with you over this weekend and then made you fall in love with me.”

                “You… so you don’t know what’s going to happen from now?”

                “I mean, I have some hopes for the short term…” Jake says, reaching a hand to stroke Bradley’s cock which makes him laugh and settle back against Jake, facing him and circling his hand around both their cocks. “And it’ll be our anniversary soon. Want to go to Hawaii?”

                “I guess the future is all ours…”

                “Baby, it’s always been ours.”

THE END

[narrans]

A Small and Tall Collection | Chapter Eleven | Remedies and Apologies

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Chapter Eleven | Remedies and Apologies

It took Soren a few minutes in the bathroom to compose himself after witnessing what he did with the miniscule woman. She was so small – so real. She could’ve been mistaken for being human if she were average height. The minute facial expressions were so clear that Soren could picture them if he closed his eyes. It was lucky that he was so good at reading people after the past few years of training.

Also, the girl didn’t have a poker face.

After pinching himself for the dozenth time and realizing this was no dream, he splashed a few handfuls of lukewarm water onto his face before heading for the kitchen. The sight that was waiting for him in the other room, however, made him wish it was a dream.

Dorian and Rey were both crestfallen on the couch. Shoulders were slumped. Eyes glossy with tears. Bottom lips trembling. Both boys sat on their hands and were holding still as they sat. Soren knew the position, since he was the one who implemented it. Well… his mom did anyway…

It was the position of punishment – time out.

When he did something wrong, his mom would make him sit on a chair quietly, usually with his hands under his legs, while he thought about what he did wrong. Soren didn’t experience this a lot as a child, but it was an effective method meant for him to reflect on what happened.

What was more astounding was the fact that Dorian and Rey were there. Soren hadn’t told them to go sit on time out. He’d just told them to go to the kitchen. Did they do this themselves? For feeling bad for what happened? Soren cleared his throat and both boys glanced over their shoulder, Dorian reaching up and wiping his nose on his sleeve, before looking away. It was a pitiful sight, but Soren was glad that the two of them seemed to recognize that they had messed up.

He walked around the couch and sat down on the wooden coffee table so he could face the two of them. His hazel eyes flicked from boy to boy before he took a breath and said, “Did you two put yourselves on time out?”

Both boys nodded.

“Do you know why you put yourselves on time out?” asked Soren. Both of them nodded before sniffling, their little brows furrowing as they shifted uncomfortably under Soren’s gaze. “Care to tell me about it?” Dorian was the first to pipe up between the two of them.

“Because,” he sniffled, snot rattling around in his nose. “I hurt the little person. I… I didn’t mean to. She was falling off of the desk and… and I didn’t think I grabbed her that hard. But… I’m sorry. I’m the one who said we shouldn’t bother you.” Soren clenched his jaw and nodded slowly before glancing at Rey.

“Rey? Why did you put yourself on time out?” asked Soren. Tears spilled down the cheeks of the young, pale blue eyed boy.

“Because I… I knew I should go get you and I didn’t. She was hurting all night because I didn’t do the right thing,” Rey said, his trembling voice tugging at his oldest brother’s heart strings.

Gosh… they’ve grown up so much. Mom… you’d be proud.

“Thank you both for apologizing,” stated Soren softly. “But remember what I said in the other room? I might not be the one you need to apologize to. Yeah?”

“H-how is s-sh-she?” asked Rey. “Is sh-she mad at us?”

“Right now, I don’t know. She hasn’t said anything as of now, but I think it’s just because she’s a bit scared; and it’s okay to be scared. If you think about how big the world is to us, imagine what it would be like coming from her perspective.” The boys nodded in agreement, so Soren continued. “She’s doing well right now, but she’s going to need some time to feel better and recover. I think she’s sick, probably with what we all had, and her arm is going to be sore.

“So, if you weren’t feeling well and were hurt, what would be something nice for someone to do for you?” asked Soren. The boys’ brows furrowed as they glanced at each other. As their caregiver, it was up to Soren to teach empathy and problem solving skills; and this was the perfect opportunity to test his two young brothers.

It only took a few seconds for Rey to speak first, muttering, “Get a comfy blanket?” It came out like a question, but it was a good start.

“Good. If she’s cold or wants to rest, a comfy blanket would be very nice to get her,” stated Soren.

“Let her pick the show she wants to watch,” suggested Dorian.

“Also a good idea. She might just want to rest at the moment though, but we can ask when she wakes up,” agreed Soren.

“I could make her something so she doesn’t have to use her hurt arm to reach for stuff,” Rey said eagerly.

“Also a good idea. We’ll need to spend time making it for her though. It has to be the right size and something she can use on her own,” Soren reminded.

“What if… what if we share some of our toys? She maybe could use some of them since she’s so small,” Dorian said.

“Again, good thinking. Remember we don’t want her to feel like a toy though. A person’s a person, no matter how small, and giving her pieces of toys or actual toys might give her the wrong idea,” Soren stated, which made Dorian’s features fall ever so slightly. His mind was in the right place though. Soren remembered the boys had some play toys that were forks and plates and knives, all things which the miniscule woman would be able to use. 

“Um… Get her something good to drink? And maybe eat?” asked Rey. Soren smiled and nodded, which brought back that little bit of twinkle in the boys’ eyes.

“I think that’s a great idea; and, while she’s resting, we can make something for her and for ourselves,” Soren smiled. “Now, who’s going to come help me in the kitchen?”

Both Dorian and Rey glanced eagerly at one another before looking back at Soren. Their collective illness had left them eating the minimum amount each day and, finally, they had an appetite again. They would have a chance to have a good breakfast for the first time in a week, and they would get to do something nice for their new little friend.

So, after Soren gave them a quick hair ruffle, the two youngsters trotted along behind Soren to help make things right.

~~~^*^*^~~~

Darkness. Bliss. Quiet. Warmth. Aching. Throbbing. Worry. Panic. Ease. Confusion. Exhaustion. The different feelings and thoughts and sensations swirled around her mind as she attempted to open her eyes for the first time in who knew how long. There were a few things that stood out to her.

One, she was still sick. A clogged nose and sore throat told her that much. She silently thanked her lucky stars that she wasn’t nauseous anymore. It probably had something to do with the cracker piece and cap of water Soren had given her before she’d passed out.

That’s right!

Ashlynn’s groggy senses sharpened in an instant as the clear memory of her simply laying down and falling asleep with a human within arm’s reach of her flashed before her eyes. Her body lurched involuntarily as she attempted to sit upright, but the immediate twinge in her arm told her she needed to move slower if she didn’t want to hurt herself more than what she already was. A fuzzy blanket was draped over her shoulder, which she vaguely remembered pulling onto her body as she fell asleep.

What kind of idiot Borrower am I? Falling asleep with a human so close by? I’m just asking to be… Ashlynn looked around the room while she felt her chest tighten as her thought tapered off into a single word. Caught…

The word rattled around in her head.

Caught. I’ve been seen. I’ve been caught. How on earth am I going to get out of this one?

Ashlynn glanced up at the ceiling, a sense of vertigo tugging her nausea back into the forefront of her mind. The Borrower woman tore her eyes away as she focused on her surroundings. The bottle cap filled partially with water was still in front of her. The cracker fragments were within arm’s reach. The red bag and container with the blue lid were gone, as was the human.

As far as she could tell, nothing else had been touched or removed. The only main difference was that the door was completely closed instead of being slightly propped open. On any other day, Ashlynn would be able to hear everything going on in the apartment and be able to pick up on faint scents that would be dangerous or good for her. Nothing was worse than losing your senses as a Borrower, and Ashlynn had lost two plus her injured arm.

Everything inside of her felt heavy, as though she’d spent the entire day borrowing and climbing. The spark of energy from earlier was depleted, and it was likely not going to come back without more rest. She reached up and ran her fingers through her hair. The piecemeal ideas coming to her were poor attempts to escape from the top of the bed and survive until her arm felt better.

I could try and climb down. No. Not if my arm keeps twinging like this. I’ll drop and fall. I could have a one handed line and lower myself down. No. I don’t have a line or safety pin. I might have that in my bag. Did I bring it with me? Shoot… it’s in the drawer. I can’t climb that again. I could try and make the jump to the bedside table, but… no… that’s not going to work either.

Ashlynn wasn’t sure how many poorly thought-out ideas came and went, but the ultimate realization came as she attempted to move her arm to test mobility.

I can’t leave… Not on my own… and not like this.

Her chest tightened, constricting her breathing, while her eyes started to burn again. It was a crushing realization. The autonomy she’d so enjoyed for all of her life had been crippled. The dangerous thought of whether or not she could even survive on her own even if she did get away began to grow stronger and stronger.

Before she could spiral completely into this new, crushing thought, Ashlynn felt the ground beginning to shake ever so slightly. It was low, deep, and rhythmic – all pointing to the signature human footstep approaching. The Borrower’s instinct was to flee and hide behind the edge of the drawer, but that dangerous thought of being unable to escape her current fate left Ashlynn planted firmly on the bedspread.

The door cracked open followed by a few distinct taps. Ashlynn could see Soren’s face as he opened the door and peered in. The sight alone was unnerving, sending a chill down her shivering spine, but she stayed seated. Whether she was freezing or simply too exhausted to move, Ashlynn wasn’t sure anymore. What she did know was that there was something warm and inviting in Soren’s smile as he pushed the door open a little more so he could step partially into the room.

“Hey there, little miss. Sleep alright?” asked Soren, his deep, melodic voice drifting through the air like warm cinnamon sugar. Ashlynn remained silent, still debating whether or not she should break the last Borrower rule and actually talk to the human in front of her.

When he didn’t receive a response, Soren nodded and pointed further into the room, asking, “Is it okay if I come in?”

Ashlynn wasn’t sure what to do. Did she respond? Nod? Shake? Say nothing? Or could Soren simply discern through whatever method he was using earlier to simply read her mind? A smile tugged at the corner of Soren’s lips as he nodded.

“Still not sure, huh?” he muttered. “I can come back later if you’d like. We just wanted to see if you were hungry and felt well enough to eat a little something.” Ashlynn chewed the inside of her cheek as she thought about the question. She didn’t really feel hungry, but then again she could probably eat. Was she actually not hungry? Or was it because she was feeling stressed and sick that kept her appetite at bay?

I have to do something.

Is nodding considered against the rules?

Would it be so bad if I nodded or shook my head?

“I’ll come back in a few minutes. Sound like a plan?” Soren’s decision took care of Ashlynn’s predicament, which was a relief. He’d be back sooner than later though, and she was no closer to a proper answer.

In what felt like only a few seconds, there was another set of short taps on the door as it once again swung open. Ashlynn’s heart skipped like a boulder down the mountain, crashing against her ribs in solid thuds, as her blue gray eyes snapped back to the door. It was Soren again. This time, however, he had something in his hands.

“Hey there, little miss. Thought any about if you’re hungry or not?” Ashlynn’s insides felt hollow, but still no appetite came to her. I need to eat something, probably. Alright… I… I have to do something…. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this!

Ashlynn looked back up with reluctance into Soren’s reassuring golden hazel eyes, the curiosity and fascination they held obviously being kept at bay and replaced with concern, before tearing her eyes away and doing something she hoped she wouldn’t regret.

She nodded.

The Borrower rules were always adamant, as were other Borrowers she’d met along with her family members, that the rule was, “Do not speak to a human. Don’t let them know you can talk.” The second part was, “Don’t let them know you can understand them. Otherwise, you’ll never be able to leave.” Ashlynn was purposefully ignoring that part of the rule in hopes that Soren, a human, would be understanding and let her go; or, at the very least, not stop her when she was well enough to leave.  

She felt her insides churn when she saw Soren’s eyes widen, even from across the room, as he registered her acknowledgement of his question. What was going through his mind? Was he contemplating if it was a fluke? Or was he making plans to keep her now that she’d made her intelligence known? At the moment, it only prompted him to ask another question, which was, “Is it okay if I come in? I have a few things I hope you might like.”

Again, Ashlynn forced herself to swallow the bile in the back of her throat as she nodded again. Her chest compressed. Everything felt tight. She listened to the approaching footsteps and shut her eyes tight, wishing herself to be anywhere but here. The comforter nearby shifted, telling Ashlynn that Soren was within a foot or so of her. She flinched away involuntary, which only made her arm twinge.

She felt herself starting to shake as she chewed the bottom of her lip. The dry flecks of skin pealed off easily from her teeth scraping against them, creating a nasty flaking paste in her mouth. To keep herself from gagging, she reached up and spit out the substance into her sleeve while wiping her mouth.

Thud.

Thud.

Ashlynn thought it sounded like Soren’s knees hitting the ground one at a time, and a quick glance up revealed she was right. Soren was indeed only a few feet away, further than she thought, and an immense wooden tray was to her left.

It was then that she heard something she wasn’t expecting – a nervous exhale. Ashlynn glanced up just in time to catch the slightest bit of nerves in Soren’s eyes as he attempted to smile with some reassurance.

Weird for him to be nervous. He’s the human here, not me. He’s got the power. He’s in control. Why is he nervous?

“Feeling any better?” Soren asked. Ashlynn clenched her jaw, completely entranced by his eyes, before looking down at her feet that she’d pulled closer to her, and shaking her head. Again, a faint, nervous breath from Soren. “No? Well, that’s to be expected. You were only asleep for a little while. You’ll need more sleep and, well, pretty much everything else if you want to get better.

“Speaking of which, we weren’t sure what you’d like so we made a little spread. We have some cut fruit, cream of wheat, pancakes, sausage, a bit of bread, and some of the soup that I made for the boys. They call it magic broth, but it’s just a bunch of vegetables and meat that’ll help you feel better. Sorry if that was a lot all at once. And don’t feel obligated to finish anything, especially if you don’t like it. Okay?”

The list was enough to make Ashlynn’s head spin. It sounded like he listed off an entire pantry’s worth of food, and yet it was all there on that tray. Honestly, crackers sounded the best because she hadn’t been sick after eating one of those. Plus, she hadn’t heard of a bunch of the things Soren talked about; but, if it made her feel better, she was willing to give it a try. Getting out of here was the goal, and the sooner the better.

“Do… you need help up? Or do you just want to move over here at your own pace?” asked Soren. Ashlynn’s expression, even before she shook her head, must’ve said it all because Soren smiled and chuckled lightly. “Yeah, I’d probably say the same thing if I were in your shoes. Just two more things and then I’ll leave you alone. Deal?”

The question was an earnest one, and he was obviously seeking some kind of confirmation, so Ashlynn nodded. It made her insides twist uncomfortably, but it was with the promise that she would be left on her own.

“Alrighty. Thing one is whether or not you feel up to taking some medicine.” The word made Ashlynn’s insides clench. Medicine? Like the stuff that made me throw up and got me into this whole mess in the first place? “I don’t know if you want to take any, but it might make you feel better faster and let your body get some essential rest. I also don’t know what you can and can’t take, so we can play that by ear if you’re willing to try it.

“Thing two, and you’ll probably say no but I want to ask, is that the boys want to apologize to you.”

Ashlynn’s blood ran cold.

Apologize?

The boys?

Have those two young boys near me again?

“I know, and I figured that would be your reaction; but, I promised I would ask. They feel really bad about everything that happened last night and want to say that they’re sorry. It’s up to you, obviously, but it would mean a lot to them. They could just stand by the door and not come in if that’s what you’re worried about,” explained Soren. “But, anyway, I wanted to ask on their behalf.”

Ashlynn wasn’t sure what to think. Much like the dilemma with whether to nod and shake her head to communicate roughly with Soren, there was no clear answer that made her feel confident. If she said no, it might make Soren and the boys angry and lead to some kind of punishment of some kind. If she said yes, she would have to see the two young humans and possibly have to interact with them as well.

Soren, thankfully, had given her the choice and simply pleaded the boys’ case. After a brief silence, Soren left the room and Ashlynn was once again alone. She still felt weak. Every part of her felt tingly and brittle, like she’d fall apart at any moment. It took nearly five minutes just to stand on her feet and prop herself against the wooden drawer that was once her prison. With a little effort, she managed to make it up onto the tray to view the enormous buffet in front of her. Everything was in some kind of bottle cap or tin foil, perfectly laid out along with what looked like a small plastic bowl and a few tiny utensils that looked like they belonged to a doll house.

She’d never seen so much food. Not only that. Ashlynn had never seen so much food untouched and unspoiled, just ready to eat. It made her head spin that humans could have so much at hand while her and every other Borrower had to fight every day for unspoiled scraps. Days of not eating well made her mouth water at the mere sight of the display before her, even though her appetite wasn’t completely back. She recognized almost everything, but decided to focus on the “magic broth” Soren had mentioned.

Ashlynn walked over, sat down, and cautiously dipped out a small portion into the tiny plastic bowl she’d been given. Her sense of taste was skewed, but it was still warm and, from what she could tell, delicious. She’d never had something so mouthwatering before. Between that and the bread, she nearly finished the entire bottle cap as she sat there in silence as she picked up fragments of sound in the apartment.

So… they eat like this every day? What is there to ever complain about then? It must be nice, not having to worry where your next meal is coming from…. Maybe… being a pet wouldn’t be so bad…

It was an intrusive thought, jolting Ashlynn out of her stupor.

What?! What on earth am I thinking?! I’m not a pet. I’m a person. I’m a Borrower. I shouldn’t even be out here! I’m just here until I’m better. Right? Just until I break this stupid sickness and then I’ll be back in the walls, with or without my arm feeling up to snuff.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The soft three wrap knocking on the door snagged Ashlynn’s attention and directed it back toward the door where, sure enough, there was Soren. He was standing there with a friendly and hopeful look as he cracked open the door a little wider.

“Hey there, little miss. How are you feeling? Is it okay if I come in?” Ashlynn thought about the question for a minute while she huddled on the tray before nodding. She wasn’t sure what he wanted, but noticed once he came in that he had a couple of small cups in his hands. Well, small for him. For Ashlynn, they looked like wash bins for dishes or clothes.

When Soren was close enough, he once again knelt on the ground a few feet or so away from where Ashlynn was sitting, making her heart jump into her throat, as she glimpsed at what Soren had in the cups. The nausea in the back of her throat reared its head when she noticed the dark teal liquid in one of the cups.

“I hope you’re feeling better. Looks like you enjoyed some of the soup at least,” Soren said. Ashlynn glanced down bashfully, unsure if she was supposed to have as much as she did or if it was just a ration, before Soren continued, saying, “If you want any more, just let me know.

“Anyway, I’m back to see if you’ve thought about the two things I mentioned earlier. One about the medicine and two about the boys. Any thoughts?”

Ashlynn found herself chewing on the inside of her cheek again nervously. She hadn’t really given it much thought, and now Soren was expecting some kind of answer. She pulled her injured arm closer to her torso, making it twinge once again, while averting her eyes.

“Not sure? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought it might help you get some decent rest,” stated Soren. “And… for the boys? Is that also a no?”

Ashlynn swallowed dryly, her sore throat forming a tight lump and making it difficult for her. She could still taste the sick mucus coating her throat as she did. It made the Borrower want to gag. This time, however, her apprehension seemed to ease as she thought about the pale blue eyes of the youngest boy.

That one… Rey… he didn’t seem angry or malicious when he was holding onto me. And… the other… Dorian… it feels… like an accident. He shouldn’t have grabbed so hard, but… Soren’s right… he’s just a kid. Both of them are. They’re just kids who want to say they’re sorry. Maybe… I owe them that much? I guess it’s all Soren can ask of me. If letting the boys say sorry is the only “payment” for patching me up and letting me go, then it is a small price to pay.

She couldn’t believe it, but Ashlynn let herself shake her head. Soren’s eyes gleamed happily as he asked cautiously, “You… just shook your head? So, that means yes? That you’d be okay with the boys apologizing?”

Ashlynn nodded slowly, but tensely.

“That’s… great. Seriously, thank you. This’ll mean the world to them. I’ll keep them by the door for you, if you’re okay with that,” Soren said. Ashlynn nodded again.

Soren’s heart was racing as he marveled at the hand sized woman sitting on the tray in front of him. Her responding to “yes” and “no” questions was both a shock and novel experience. Soren suspected she could understand him, but it was only confirmed with that first small nod. He could only hope that her responding mixed with his efforts and his brothers’ apology would help form a little more trust with the miniscule woman.

He stood as carefully as he could and stepped out of the room to see his two brothers eagerly waiting by the edge of the kitchen table. Both of their pale blue eyes looked at him with hopeful anticipation as he stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him. With a smile, the boys knew immediately that their request had been granted. Before they could start cheering, however, Soren knelt in front of them and laid a heavy hand on each of their shoulders.

“Okay, you two, we need to be on our best behavior. She agreed, but you will have to stand by the door. She’s still a bit apprehensive of all of us. Speak clearly and gently. She’s still sick and hurt. I’m sure all of this is a lot for her. More importantly, she’s a person with thoughts and feelings. We need to respect that. Understand?” asked Soren. “A person’s a person, no matter how small.”

“Yessir,” both Dorian and Rey said simultaneously. Soren smiled, coaxing the boys forward as he stood, before tapping on the door again.

When the door opened again, Ashlynn saw all three humans consuming the doorway from one side to the other. It was an unnerving sight, and it made Ashlynn squirm ever so slightly. Still, true to his word, Soren kept the boys by the door as they spotted her. All six eyes were fixed on her body, making her feel like she was standing under a magnifying glass, a thing she found unnerving in the last home she lived in.

“Um… miss?” spoke up the youngest as he glanced up at Soren before looking back at her. “I’m… well… we’re really sorry about last night. We shouldn’t have put you in the drawer, and we should’ve seen if you were okay before we went to bed. I should’ve gotten Soren to help check on you, and I’m sorry I didn’t do that.” Tears glistened in the boy’s eyes as he sniffed and wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve.

“I’m sorry too, miss,” Dorian said, his voice shaking ever so slightly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you or your arm. I thought I was helping you by keeping you from falling off of the desk. I shouldn’t have grabbed so hard. And I should’ve gotten help sooner with Rey. I hope you can forgive me.”

Seeing the two human boys with glistening tears rolling down their cheeks sent Ashlynn back into her memory. She remembered seeing her younger brother apologize like this when he had broken her first borrowing and, in that moment, Ashlynn could only sense genuine remorse from the two young humans.

It was a pitiful, sad sight. It made Ashlynn’s heart flutter and left her nodding subtly before tearing her eyes away from the three humans. She missed the look of surprise and relief on Dorian’s and Rey’s faces when they saw her nod, but what she didn’t miss was Soren ushering the boys out of the room and walking back over to her.

“Thank you…”

Ashlynn glanced into Soren’s eyes just for a moment and, like every other time, saw fascination, but also gratitude. It made his eyes shine like the evening sun on a summer day. Ashlynn wasn’t sure if it was her fever or the sudden thrum in her heart beating faster, but her cheeks and body suddenly felt completely flush.

She looked away quickly, hoping Soren didn’t notice, and listened as he asked about whether or not she wanted to take either of the medicines he brought. The teal one was something called NyQuil, which helped with fevers and cold symptoms as well as her pain. The other one with a much longer, technical name that Ashlynn had no hope of pronouncing, was meant to help reduce the fever and help with the pain. Though she hated both options, especially how they smelled, the one that could handle it all was, to her dismay, the teal NyQuil.

“You don’t like the smell or taste?” asked Soren. Ashlynn shook her head as she stared at her muted reflection in the viscous fluid. “Well, that’s good. Means your like everyone else who’s ever taken it. Word of advice. Hold your nose as you swallow and drink something immediately after to get rid of the taste. It’ll make the experience less miserable.”

Ashlynn remembered Soren saying something like that to his brothers before they took this medicine, and she intended on taking his advice. Taking a deep breath, she only took a single mouthful as she held her nose and swallowed. It felt like the same mucus coating her throat as the liquid traveled down her throat. There was a burning and cooling sensation happening all at once, making her gag as she had done the night before. Quickly though, she stepped over to the cup of water Soren had brought and drank as much as she could muster before gasping for air again.

The moment she breathed, she could feel the cooling burn the medicine left behind, but it was nowhere near as bad as what had happened the first time she put the teal liquid into her mouth.

“Better?” asked Soren. The Borrower woman nodded as she drank a little more water to soothe her aching throat. “Good. Well, you should try and get some more rest, okay? That medicine will let you sleep long and hard, so take advantage of it. I’ll make sure the boys don’t come bother you, but I’ll be back to check if you need anything. Sound good? And don’t worry about the food. I’ll leave it here if you get peckish.”

Ashlynn watched as Soren once again vacated the room, surrendering it completely to her. She breathed a sigh of relief as she made her way back to the wooden box and retrieved her blanket. She pulled it over to the corner and made a comfortable place before laying down, eyelids drifting lower and lower as relaxation flirted with her desire to sleep.

I’ll be better soon. I just have to make it a few more days and then I’ll escape. I hope I’m better by then anyway…

And Soren… he’s been so kind. Maybe… maybe he’s not such a bad human. Maybe none of them are…. No. Don’t worry about that now. Get some sleep. Feel better. Find a way to thank Soren… eventually.

With that, Ashlynn succumbed to sleep once more, the first signs of being on the mend on the horizon.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue | Coming Soon

Previous

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A Tall and Small Collection | Original Story

[hopefulidiocy]

Writers block..? SAME! I’ve had this idea for WEEKS and just never write it lol.

So imagine there’s this like legend of The Great Targaryen (reader) who lived before Rhanerya and them and she was called The Great Targaryen because she commanded like 4 dragons instead of one. (kinda like Daenerys)

So maybe she was like so powerful or whatnot a witch (idk if they rly had those back then but like, there’s dragons so bare with me lol) cast her to sleep, saying she’ll only awake in 100 years OR SOMETHING IDK YET.

But anyways, team black realizes that if they want to win they’ll need her or something so they go looking.

The find her asleep in a cave off the coast somewhere and somehow she wakes up (haven’t rly gotten there yet) and they’re all like woahhhh but she has no dragons?

They get to the top of the cliff and she kinda just faces out towards the ocean and stands there, everyone is confused. She raises her arms like A GODDESS and BOOM flying out of the ocean is DRAGONS!!!

Idk it’s a really weird concept but I had a dream like that and that’s where this came from lol.

Watcha think???

The Dragon Tamer

House of the Dragon x OC!Female!Character

Warnings: mentions of child loss, death, destruction and disease.

Characters that are my own: Efflestead the Warrior, Alina the Dragon Tamer/Demon Queen, Jocelyn the Great

A/N: I have never written something like this before and I looooved doing it <3 part two?

MINORS DNI 18+

🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉

🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉

Many tales graced the darkened walls of Westeros. They flew, invisibly, through the air as folk songs or poems; they were words, spoken from generation to generation. Efflestead’s siege on the North, battling it to great victory until all that was left was rubble and dirt and dead bodies. He was celebrated, a day commemorated to him and how he savagely killed thousands of innocents for being in his war path to the Iron Throne. He was crowned on the 10th of the Third Month, creating catastrophe and violence in his stead. But no one remembers that part. They don’t remember how he killed his way to the top, tortured those who dared to whisper in the corners of every house, how he employed spies who could’ve well been your father or brother and they would let loose their secrets and you’d be on the Wall within the hour. Most people remember him as Efflestead the Warrior King, a family man with fifteen children of his own, all just as ghastly as he was, a man of great honour - being with his wife for more than 40 years, but everyone forgot he had mistresses and often beat his wife to the point she lost more than five children. No, people forget the bad parts because they want a story they can be proud of. Efflestead’s children went on to become monarchs, Heiron being the first and rather boring King, contracting Green Fever before the Winter. Jocelyn became Queen after he died, she was a beauty, to all accounts of people who knew her but, of course, when she was murdered in the comfort of her own bed; her own brother, Aegon, was the one who distributed horrific lies and propaganda. She was a witch and bewitched a plague amongst the Smallfolk with her sixth finger and long, hanging nose that drooped over her upper lip. No one remembers that she was kind and generous to the Smallfolk, no one remembers that she cared for the health of her people and sought to change all of it.

History and myth are not kind to those who actually do good, they would rather remember those with an intriguing story that they can pick apart and leave out the bad bits.

There was one though, no recollection in any chronicle of history, no written records, just a song. Sung in the streets of the Red Keep.

A dragon descended upon the River;

His claws long and his mind clever;

A woman with eyes so black;

Came onto the shore with a crack;

She said, “Who hath come to fight?”;

When one man stepped forth, she cackled to the night;

“Is that all you have?” And so she unleashed her fury onto the innocence;

Letting them have her anguish and misguidance;

Four wild beasts arose from the dark;

Fire, blood and fury from their violent arc;

She tried, as she must, to fight with her life;

But the Smallfolk were full of strife;

They killed her with one switch of a blade;

And off her head rolled in the shade;

They rejoiced and called out;

“At last, the Demon Queen is dead! And so she will be forever at rest!”

Of course, the Smallfolk only knew the lines to a wretched song that kids would learn as they grew up in the parks and the bakeries. They would be told the Demon Queen will have you for supper! If they forbade any law. But, of course, the Demon Queen was more than a ruthless woman. First of all, she had a name… Alina Targaryen. Born to the bastard grandson of Efflestead. She was known to be a beauty, long white hair always in a braided crown, dresses that puffed around her and always glided along with her. She was kind, generous and full of wit. Many men wanted to have a slice of her, but she never allowed it, she kept herself neat and tidy for any man that would marry her.

She never did marry.

Instead found her love elsewhere. With multicoloured eggs that she grew with affection and suddenly… she was the most powerful woman in Westeros.

Being so powerful, she became a target. A target for war, for assassination, for love and temptation. But she hid out in the caves, away from human life and settled with her dragons. The song got one thing right, she did tame four dragons, she loyally loved each dragon.

Fate is a funny thing. It is what’s meant for you, even if it’s not what you want. Alina didn’t want to sleep for one hundred years, she was completely oblivious to it until the day came when the waves crashed harshly against the cave, the dragons looked at her with perplexity and so, being the brave soul she was, she opted to explore on foot. The grey waves curled up into the sky with every crash against the rock, she clung to the edge as she watched spurts of water form a woman, no eyes and no mouth, just a plain black face with wispy hair like a witch. Alone and cold, the witch whispered under her breath that sent Alina into a sleep, never to be heard from again. Until Westeros went to shit.

Around the Queens’ table at Dragonstone, Daemon sat with his elbows propped up, chewing onto his fingernails as Rhaenyra stood, stoic and strangely calm whilst Rhaeyna spoke of the dangerous plans the Greens have for Dragonstone.

“He will surely arrive with Vhagar, even with the three dragons we have cannot take her on. We all know that.” She said, sitting straight. Daemon looked up at her worried face before switching to Rhaenyra’s face, she was deep in thought, Jace behind her, pacing up and down.

“Jace, stop. I can’t think right now.” Daemon ordered, but Jace didn’t stop. He rarely answered to his step father, he was deep in thought like the rest of the room. A hanging shadow was hanging over Dragonstone with Aemond’s threat to burn it to the ground. The Blacks may have the Dragon Queen but the Gods themselves couldn’t defend Dragonstone against Vhagar.

“You know…” Jace trailed off, Daemon looked at him disinterested. Rhaenyra turned her head slightly towards him, as he thought of his next words.

“What is it, Jace?” Rhaenyra spoke, slightly impatient.

“Alina Targaryen.” He said. Everyone exchanged glances, some confused, some surprised. They hadn’t heard that name in ages and perhaps some people had never heard it before.

“She’s been dead for 130 years.” Daemon said, matter of fact.

There had been a grumbling amongst the smallfolk, something was occurring and no one had the answer and it was something bigger than Aemond and Vhagar. The grumbling was like something was rising, coming alive and word on the street was Alina was planning to come back to slay all the sinners. She had not yet made an appearance.

“The prophecy. There was a prophecy.” Jace pointed out even though he couldn’t remember the full details of said prophecy.

“Yes. They said Alina was to die amongst her dragons, safe within the caves in the North, to protect the eggs of the future but if she was to come alive we would have to gain dragon fire.” Rhaenyra said impatiently, crossing her arms and not looking at her son. “It could never work, Jace.”

Later that night, Jace awoke in his bed from a fitful dream of Vhagar tearing his home to shreds and he knew he had to do something about it. The prophecy of Alina Targaryen was difficult but it was not impossible. Many people at the time did not own dragons or their dragons weren’t used for warfare, just simple fun, so of course the prophecy would be hard. He wrapped a warm robe around his body, keeping the cold chill at bay, thinking over his plans as his bare feet slapped against the stone flooring. His mind was on Alina, the beautiful blonde that was etched into law scriptures, there had even been an execution method in her style for those less fortunate: partially burned by dragon fire and then strangled over several days. It was a gruesome way to end and many people had been subjected to it.

Vermax was asleep when Jace entered the Dragon Pit, he watched him for a while before whistling to awaken him. Vermax was always grumpy when he woke up but actively being woke up was a whole new level of grumpy so Jace was in for a long, long night. In High Velarian, he told Vermax of the old prophecy, of the High and Mighty Alina Targaryen who could help them from being torn into pieces.

Deep within the breathing caves, Alina was still, flat on her back on a spacious rock table; her hands clasped at her stomach, still in her riding gear; her peach coloured mouth relaxed into a soft line; her halo hair scattered around her like a wave as Jace began commanding Vermax’s fire, miles away from the caves. The walls began to move, shaking ever so slightly at every will Jace gave to his dragon and with that push, Alina began to rouse. Not awaking properly, her eyes hadn’t opened but her toes squeezed against her leather sandals as Vermax breathed his hot rage into a vat of iron; quickly, Jace covered the top, burning himself but keeping the fire closed within the jar. He could’ve sworn Vermax rolled his eyes when he thanked him and ran off.

Rhaenyra hardly slept. It wasn’t uncommon. There was much to think about. She was sat at her desk, rifling through some parchments when her eldest son came battling through the door; evidently struggling with his barrel.

“What in the Seven Gods have you got there?” Rhaenyra asked, standing up.

“It’s a vat of fire, Lady Mother. For the prophecy.” He was so unfit.

“The prophecy won’t work, Jace. Don’t be a fool and fall for it. Alina was killed by a Sea Devil. It is in the history books.” She batted her hand away and sat down, not wishing to listen to him.

“Mother, when I was commanding Vermax, it felt like something awoke within me. I could feel this cold chill run right through me, I’m telling you, I don’t think this prophecy is fake.”

“You felt the cold chill because it’s midnight and it’s cold and you’re wearing nothing. Go to bed. I don’t want to hear about it anymore.” Defeated, Jace dragged his vat of fire back to his room.

Defeated by his mother he may be. But something happened and it was unmistakable. So when day broke, he climbed onto the back of Vermax and rode off into the North.

The cave was located amongst a rocky terrain, hidden behind a jagged rock that had dried blood, possibly Alina’s, coated over the tips. The waves crashed against the rocks as Vermax flew onto the hanging cliff, denying to put himself and his rider in danger on the rocks. Jace sighed, noticing the jagged rock, his vat of fire on his back as he slowly, incredibly slowly, bum shuffled down onto a flat rock just to the side of the cave, trying to find a different way to enter but the gap between the rocks was too small, even though he was a particularly skinny young man, he could not fit between them. So he had to go around, the wind whipped around his hair, flowing it into all directions as he clutched onto the sharp edge of the jagged rock, cutting diagonally across his palm as he hauled himself onto a small foot cove when his toes fit perfectly. The waves crashed against him, throwing him into the rock at full speed, cutting the side of his face. He groaned into the cup of his hand, trying to keep his composure as the pain seared through him. Once the waves had ceased for just a moment, adrenaline shot through him and he jumped from the foot cove onto the flat surface at the entrance of the cave.

There was a few spots of water, deep enough to drown in, due to the land shifting over the century she had been dead. At first it was dark, he couldn’t see his own hand in front of his face but slowly a light was forming in front of him. Two fawn columns created an archway where a beam of yellow light flooded onto a flat rock, washing over the body of a still woman who was wiggling her toes and small groans escaping her pursed mouth.

“Alina.” He whispered, running towards the rock and finding a beautiful woman, forever twenty three in front of him. The Great Dragon Tamer. Alina Targaryen. He opened the vat ever so slowly, wondering what would happen if the fire was to consume her surroundings, whether she would come to life again. The fire cascaded up and above, touching stalactites and flowing over, somehow it did not touch Alina or Jace and he watched as the Dragon Tamer twitched her eyes. He knelt down beside her, watching her intently as her pale grey eyes opened and took in the fire above her.

The prophecy had worked. The second Alina saw Jace, she shot to her feet, her hand on the sword attached to her leather belt.

“Who are you?” She asked, her voice rough after a century of non speaking.

“I’m Jace… Jace Velarion.” He stumbled across his words, straightening to his feet. Her face was thunderous, her lips straight and almost snarling as she took him in.

“You work at sea.” She spat. “Have you come to kill me once and for all, Jace Velarion?” She unsheathed her sword, the glinting point at his face.

“No, it’s not like that.” He cleared his throat. “I am the son of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen. I have come to ask for help.” Her sword lowered ever so gently as she inquired him with her eyes, narrowing them and looking him up and down.

“A Targaryen Queen? You must be a bastard. Where’s your white hair?” She was vaguely amused by this. In normal circumstances, Jace would not be able to control his anger and although he could feel it bubbling, he didn’t want to say anything; this moment couldn’t be ruined.

“We are under threat. It’s complicated but Queen Rhaenyra is technically Queen of Dragonstone but she is the rightful Queen of Westeros, in the Red Keep. But her younger half brother plotted against her, the Hightowers, and now he is on the throne and there’s a threat Vhagar and his bastard rider will detonate us all. We need you.”

“The Hightowers.” She spat, tucking her sword back into her sheath. “I’ve always hated them.” She slapped her thighs, she was incredibly masculine, and drove herself to the entrance of the cave. Jace watched in awe as she screamed in Old Valyrian, something he couldn’t understand himself and saw four dragons rise from the rocks. They had been disguised for 130 years as these jagged rocks, the ones that Jace cut himself on, they roared and they were ten times bigger than Vermax. The wind blew in at a high speed when Alina turned around, a mischievous glint in her eye and the first smile he had seen.

“Are you ready, Prince Jace?”

[thebaldursmouthgazette]

Something people also need to remember in terms of concept art is like

Okay so that HoF ghoul concept art that everyone was mad wasn’t included in the game?

That was part of the same group as the one that was the first concept art exploring the idea of bringing back griffons. That plotline started in last flight. With that in mind, it’s obvious that the HoF ghoul idea (which was literally just the artists idea, nobody else wanted to do that with the HoF) evolved into Isseya, down to the face bandages

Last flight came out September 2014. Two months before inquisition did. These concept arts were made before they decided to write it.

I think people think that all of these concepts were solid ideas that were going to be included in veilguard before being abandoned for no reason, but they’re actually random ideas someone had, possibly that were never even seriously considered for inclusion and possibly that nobody actually liked, and some of them were ruled out from being part of da4 before inquisition even came out

It’s also worth keeping in mind that experienced concept artists can make these pieces in a couple hours. The entire point is that they’re low stakes, low investment visualisations of something and it doesn’t matter if they don’t go anywhere except the art book because they didn’t take much resources to make. And they’re shared later because they’re neat and the artists are proud of them, not to tease you with “cut content”

[palesweetscherryblossom]

Preening

Warning: Mentions of abduction, forced marriage/affection, general angst and blackmail. Hawks is a sleazy birb. (S/c is skin color and f/s is favorite scent)

You’d grown sick of the red that blinded your every waking moment. You couldn’t decipher why at first. Most would find it silly that you had grown to loathe something so mundane like a color but you figured out why soon enough.

His wings, those freakishly beautiful wings. Hawks had proven himself an anomaly in the royal court and general society. Half man, half bird. Legends tended to cultivate from his magnificent gift.

From being cursed by his spiteful warlock of a father to being raised by birds and his wings just being a massive amount of feathers he glued to himself.

It didn’t matter, you hated them all the same. So invasive, so pushy. They were soft though, pretty too in the early hours of dawn.

“Canary~” You instantly perked up like a startled sheep at the sound of your Fiancé’s smooth, sing song voice. You weren’t even doing anything bad but you acted like you had your hand deep in the cookie jar.

Your jaw clenched, s/c fingers digging into the annoyingly soft comforters as you watched Keigo enter into your room like he was invited! Well, he kinda always had permission since it was his castle and you were his…

Your stomach churned, threatening to hack up the roasted chicken and mashed potatoes Keigo fed you. You weren’t his, you never were. It was a fleeting moment of comfort.

“Y-yes Sir Keigo?” You queried hesitantly, hating that you stammered ever so slightly. Might as well put a big old sign on your person that says ‘baby me!’

Keigo frowned, unappreciative of your formal response. No, you weren’t some member of the court or even a flunky. You were his mate, his spouse!

“Remember what we talked about, Dove?” The sickeningly sweet nickname rolled off his tongue in a way that made you wanna shove him in an oven.

“You don’t have to call me such formalities! You’re my fiancé after all.” He assured, bearing a smile but his eyes flashed with an eerie sort of primal challenge.

“What do you want?” You asked, sitting up in your bed that also became your prison. Keigo smiled happily, joining you on the bed.

Feathers fell briefly onto the fabric you rolled yourself into for any means of comfort. A gateway to dreams where you could temporarily forget your own existence were gilded cages and that stupid shade of red didn’t attempt to bother you!

You resisted the urge to swipe away the feathers.

“Did you know that birds preen each other in a means to show affection?” Keigo asked. You blinked almost dumbly.

You hadn’t read any books that detailed anything of the sort so this couldn’t be an attempt to invade your hobbies. “N-no I have not, Keigo.” You answered, Hawks smirked.

He stretched out his wings ever so slightly, rustling his soft feathers. “Since we’re to be married in a few days, I was thinking that you ought to preen my wings. They say that intimacy is one of the pillars of a relationship.”

You were almost shocked by his audacity. He wanted you to preen him after he had blackmailed your poor parents into letting him marry you?!

You wanted to shove him away, maybe bludgeon his stupid smug face in with a candlestick.

“Here, let me get us started.” Hawks summoned a few supplies for such a method. “I usually have my servants do this for me but I wanna feel you.” He admitted.

You stared down at the items then the horrifying amount of feathers. It’d take forever for him to leave! “Don’t be intimidated, canary. Do you need help?” Keigo queried, his voice soft and sweet like a serenade.

“You rub the oil on the feathers then you brush them out.” He instructed, taking the vial of sweet smelling oil and dabbed some on your hands.

“It’s f/s! Your dad told me it was one of your favorites.” He chirped, proud of himself for being so considerate. You stared down at the oil, numbly even. Your favorite scent now made you incredibly nauseous.

You hated it. Unlike King Midas who turned everything into gold, Prince Keigo turned everything you loved into a place of hate.

He might as well be the Lord of Decay after all the disintegration of all your joy. You hesitantly pressed your hands to his wings, causing Hawks to sharply gasp and his wings to puff up.

“Oh, canary, your hands feel so soft.” He purred lowly, relaxing his wings. With each rub you gave, you couldn’t help but desire to take a fat helping of wings and tear them off. No different than plucking a chicken.

“I knew I made the right decision choosing you, Birdy.” Hawks mused, relaxing into your hands. “Say, do you think our little hatchlings would inherit this ability?”

Your tears meshed with the oil

@gh0stgirl333

[blossoms-phan]

✨philm club✨ rewatch - october 19th, 2015

liveshow - notes/thought yaps under the cut!

i love how they’re explaining how they do their individual liveshows to each other like im not saying they were just sat in the other room twice a week watching the other persons liveshow but like surely you have some idea of how it usually goes lmao

“im quite mellow today we’ve been in a car for a while” phil does seem like he has more mellow/chill energy in this one i imagine they were tired but also so go go go at this point resting for a second would only slow them down more

6 year friendiversary and dinof anniversary! It's so insane to me that it was only 6 years atp like this dnp was not too long after i became obsessed with them and i blinked and now its 15 years

dan “reassess your lives” and phil “i think you should be thanking them”- i think this is fascinating and ties into how today dan still automatically goes “im so sorry” when people say i've been watching you for x years and it makes us all want to shake him by the shoulders and say don't apologize silly man!!!!!!!!! take the compliment we mean it with love!!!!!!

dan exposing his ass to audience in leeds and years later during wad great stuff 

phil smacking his head on stage wow some things really don't change 

“calm down” in a silly voice from dan always reminds me of the cLaM dOWN airplane northern voice live clip 

i haven’t rewatched a liveshow in so long so much hair adjusting 

they sound so british sometimes 

“dan do you know what yaoi is” this is so funny to me you are asking the poster boy for yaoi day in 2024

looking at pics of p!atd on tumblr COME BACK TO ME TUMBLRINAA they r right btw i love pretty odd 

“dan choke me with your legs” why r u reading that. whore. see in 2015 knowing that a literal child probably said this its kinda cringe but also me with sister daniel and like all the Thigh in general these days so who am i to speak

“i like being remembered because that doesnt happen often with the celebrity folks”  :( this is sweet i know this time was A Lot and in general the radio stuff wasn't for them in the end and they appreciate that it was cool and fun but dan also mentioned how it was annoying to just be brushed off or being in a position where you're just forced to chase after all these big named people that dgaf about you but its just nice to see they noticed when they were remembered and the 1975 mention i could write an essay about 2018 dan and the album abiior

phil stopped the bus for fish and chips hehe i literally had fish and chips today this is cray. i hope they actually had them for dinner this day i would love to have a parasocial fish and chip night with them

you are pal creators :’) 

editing tips mention they are so unserious 

i am so emotionally attached to the london apartment but referring to it as “the house” when they have an actual House now is really getting to me 

aww talking about tabinof :’( i cant remember if i've talked about this before but there was hugee “drama” back in the day when it was first announced of people accusing them of selling out or some dumb shit when this wasn't another copycat youtuber ghostwritten book they poured their hearts into it as silly and fun as it was and the way dan talks about it really shows that i hope they were proud of it and still are

dan you don't really have the same hair but ok 

talking about the australian today show and they were just on it last month!! why does that make me so emo 

bitten right on the florida

bakeee offfff mention this is why i loved liveshows like just yapping about the shows they watch and cry over together

dan self aware get over it crashing out “so what he enjoys a themed drink” he is so silly dfjfkdfksfkj i love this part

can i live in that autumn moment?

rare what phil has been listening to! movie soundtracks ok king

dan being a little pretentious talking about their differing tv show opinions and phil just mocking his hand movements and giving a 2 word review their dynamic is so dear to me

Is this an unpopular opinion idk i can’t stand 3d movies  

black and blue as always

phil’s laugh and look and dan going “you cheeky little bugger” at him putting “phil and dan” on the chair page<3

hearing them talk about tour in the tatinof days when it was their first go and things like how its amazing hearing people sing to the preshow playlist in the context of like right now is soooooo as a longtime fan who yearned to attend tatinof while it was happening but couldn’t and finally actually experienced them and the magic of a dan and phil show and things like singing hot to go with phannies just a few months ago god im going to miss this era sm

the apocalypse/ai/technology tangent is scarily relevant right now and from nearly 10 years ago wow hashtag we’re all doomed

susan boyle after the amazingdan reaction video lmaoo

they were really doing the most during this era like omg so many promises of things coming soon among the tour and spooky week and book and they were literally just home for one day after being in a car for hours earlier that day like they seem in good spirits in this one and i know its just chill chatting for an hour but boys! take a breather! 

overall i enjoyed this one! i don't rewatch old liveshows a lot but this is a fun way for us all to commit to rewatching and discussing one a week bc there's always so many fun little forgotten details and i think it would be fun to continue even post break! i was very tired while watching this and somehow still wrote out this very long yappy list of notes which are really just a stream of consciousness which no one will read probably but i humbly present them anyways <3

[scented-morker]

Dorm displays w/Seungmin

How he acts with you around the other guys 🫶 FLUFF, 532 words, bf!min x gn!reader, requested (I love that my blog has become a place for the Seungmin lovers 🤭)

Your bf dorming with Felix is the best thing that could have happened for you

Felix is so lovey and he’s always encouraging min to be as mushy with you as he wants

Which is still usually not much, but it’s nice that the option is there 😭

He’ll pull your legs across his lap while you guys watch a movie on the couch and rub a hand up and down your calves

If he’s feeling really mushy he’ll hold your hand at the dinner table

Felix will keep his mouth shut and just send you guys a smile

Now if you guys are at a practice or another dorm and all the boys are around, he’s slightly less touchy

He prefers showing you his love in other ways

Of course you’re never exempt from his teasing

He’ll make fun of the boys with a straight face to the point that sometimes they can’t tell if he’s joking or not 😭

But with you even when he’s teasing he’s got a soft little grin on his face

And he’ll give your knee or you hand a little squeeze after, just a little reassuring touch to remind you he loves you

Usually he prefers to keep things chill BUT if the boys have been teasing him recently and he decides to show you off a little bit…

TAKE THE OPPORTUNITY OK

When he’s all “it must be hard for you guys being single while I have the prettiest s/o ever” and dragging you away with his arm around you

That min is one of the best bc he’s just so proud of you 😭

Sometimes there’s no ulterior motive and he just remembers how lucky he is to have you, like after he’s been busy and hasn’t been able to see you

While some of the guys will pounce on you with a greeting as soon as you walk in, he’ll wait patiently, looking at you expectantly

He knows you’re there for him anyway

So he’ll just wait, looking at you with the softest eyes and waiting for you

Smiles so big when you sideswipe the boys and run over to where he’s got his arms open for you

You look so happy when you see him and it’s absolutely his favorite thing ever

“Hi pretty.” He whispers in your ear while you hug him, placing a small kiss behind your ear for extra measure

The other guys will squeal, but won’t say anything to him

Sometimes they’ll tease you for your red face and school girl giggles every time he talks, but only until he makes them stop (our hero ✊)

There’s also sleepy min, when they’re all exhausted and you come over with your soft whispers and loving back rubs

You’ll let him lay on your lap and stroke his hair or lean against you while you lightly scratch his back and he has not a single thought in his brain about embarrassment or pda or anything bc he just feels so loved and cared for

In conclusion, dorm displays depend on the version of your bf that you get that day, but he loves you and makes sure to show you every day!!