#can’t wait until i get to write for her

[sevikasbooyahh]

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

Pairing: Caitlyn Kiramman x Reader

Summary: It’s been a few days since the war ended, Caitlyn is recovering from her injuries. Despite that, she still has the responsibilities of a Kiramman that weigh upon her. Luckily, she has you to ground her.

A/N: Love my wife DOWN—this is a bit long cause I just love writing from her perspective (in a way). This is her late birthday present :3

She looked through the scope of the sniper with her remaining eye, focused on the target; the bright red spot in the middle of the silhouette head.

Bang!

The golden bullet soared through the air, the Kiramman crest implanted on it shining through the air. A quick swish interrupting the silent atmosphere.

It missed the bullseye, by a few inches.

Dammit.

She growled under her breath, looking down at her sniper. The sound of it slamming onto the ground echoed through the empty room.

She’s been in here for quite a while, hours. She didn’t get a single shot but was determined to stay until she got one. Talk about stubborn.

She’s known for her excellent shooting skills, one of the best in Piltover. And now…she can’t even hit a single bullseye.

What a disappointment.

What would Grayson think, seeing the girl she trained in shooting, not even able to hit the target?

What would her mother think? Her daughter had done so much damage. Went against her morals and now deeply regretted it, the amount of guilt she felt is a consequence itself.

What a disappointment.

She attempted to take deep breaths, a practice she’s been working on with you. But the feelings kept bubbling up, like an active volcano, on the verge of a damaging explosion. So caught up in her thoughts, the sound of your footsteps didn’t register.

“Cait?,” you tilted your head into the room, watching her stiff form slightly relax at the sound of your voice. She didn’t look back, shame settling in from her outburst.

“Baby, you’ve been in here for hours, it’s starting to get late,” you spoke to her gently, being careful not to aggravate her any further.

“I still have work to do,” the words came out in a cold tone. She turned her head in your direction, didn’t look at you.

A sigh is all she received in return. “Don’t stay up all night,” with that, you walked back down the hall; heading to the bedroom.

The room was incredibly spacious, its tall ceilings and wide walls created a relaxing environment. In the middle was her bed, a queen size, large enough for the both of you.

Her wealth was a privilege, she is privileged. She realized at a very young age, not everyone has what she has. And that always plagued her thoughts, especially when she first saw Zaun’s condition.

Do your part, help those who are oppressed under this system.

It was always felt like her responsibility.

—★—

In her office, Caitlyn stared at the letter in front of her, sent by the council. She hasn’t visited a meeting ever since she declared her position as a decorated officer; firmly explaining her objectives to take down the system in Zaun.

Dear Ms. Kiramman,

We call you to a mandatory meeting, tomorrow at noon. There are many issues to be discussed.

- The Piltovian Council

She bit the inside of her cheek, going over the words several times. Ever since her mother’s passing, the chair was passed onto her. Although, Mel, near a sister to her, advised that she took the time to grieve, so much for that.

The mage was going to leave for Noxus, it saddened her, even if she would visit and send letters; it wouldn’t be the same.

She isn’t completely lonely, she has her father, and you of course. It’s like an itch, it won’t go away.

Maybe it’s because the older woman was the sister she always wanted. Similar to how Jayce was the brother she never had. Now he’s gone…left another hole that she can’t fill.

—★—

It was past midnight, the cold air from the open balcony door provided at least a touch of fresh air. You forced yourself to stay awake, waiting until Caitlyn came back to bed. Even while in and out of sleep, she was the first thing on your mind; knowing she was cooped up in her office, trying to rush through paperwork that wasn’t due until weeks from now. She’s been working herself to the bone. You were afraid that if she kept pushing and pushing, her body would drop from exhaustion.

The door creaked as it slowly opened then shut. She stood there for a moment to test if you were awake; she got her answer when you turned around to look at her. The dark lighting of the room preventing you from seeing her features.

The sheets crinkled under you as you got up from the bed; taking her hand and leading her to her bathroom. “I know you haven’t been properly taking care of yourself. I can smell it,” you scrunched up your nose, attempting to lighten up the mood. The slightest smile traced her lips but faded as fast as it came.

You carefully undressed her, revealing her bare body, nothing you haven’t seen before. Your finger traced the stitches of where she had gotten stabbed; trailing it back to her eyepatch.

“You can take it off, you know?” You looked at the patch that matched her hair. You had to admit, it was adorable.

All she did was give a single nod, slowly removing it—the hidden eye finally seeing the light. Doctors had to perform a tarsorrhaphy, as her eye would not be able to close on its own.

It didn’t bother you because it ‘altered’ her appearance but that she would struggle. Her depth perception was poor, she wasn’t able to navigate how far away objects are. It hurts your heart to see that she’s been getting so frustrated with herself and having occasional outbursts.

You zoned back into reality when she turned on the hot water, steam soon filling the room. She didn’t like her showers just hot but boiling. It concerned you at one point of how her skin didn’t get irritated.

She stepped in and her shoulders slightly dropped, bowing her head down. Stepping in behind her, you grabbed her wash cloth and lathered it in soap.

You rubbed the cloth against her body, cleansing her skin. She moaned quietly out of relief, she really needed this.

—★—

A strangled gasp escaped her mouth; gasping for air as she awakened. The nightmare playing on repeat in her mind.

Jinx. Torture. Gun to her head.

She hardly talked to you about her time with Jinx. How deeply it affected her. Her mother’s death was the tip of the iceberg. What that girl did to her haunted her every night afterwards, she couldn’t even bathe by herself. It was you that got into the shower every night and protected her from the hallucinations that lingered.

You knew what happened as soon as you felt her jolt. Reaching to the nightstand and flicking on the lamp, partially lighting the room. You could see her clearly.

Her chest moving up and down with every breath she took. The sweat dripping against her pale skin. How her eye was wide and scanning the room as if cautiously looking for somebody.

She sighed, lying her head back down on the pillow. “I’m sorry..” she whispered, the words cracking like an object under pressure. “I—I know I’ve been distant as of late. I just…everything’s coming back to me. It’s overwhelming, like I’m suffocating.”

Pressing your body against hers, you held a hand to her cheek, gently stroking your thumb near the eyepatch. She leaned into your touch, her eye closing at the soft sensation of your palm—savoring it.

“You’ve been through so much, we both have, and that’s not stopping me from loving you.” You lift her head to where she’d meet your gaze.

Water swelled up in her eye, though she tried to blink it away, a tear still fell. You didn’t wipe it away, instead letting it linger.

“I’m here,” your soft whisper caused her to finally break. Her eyes squinting as she let out a quiet sob, burying her face into your neck. It’s the one place where she felt safe, secure. Your hand rested on the back of her head, stroking the deep blue hair.

“I…” she sniffled, “I don’t deserve you.” You never wanted to hear those words coming out of her mouth. Sure, maybe she didn’t deserve you, her actions needed to come with consequence. But from what you’ve seen, she’s been beating herself up over this.

And after all that she’s been through, you never gave up on her. Even if her grief led her actions, resulting in chaos.

You were determined, and that’s what she loved most about you.

“Nothing will stray me away, okay? We’ll get through this together.” You looked down at her for confirmation. She lifted her head, giving a small nod.

She slowly wiped her tears away, “I think I need a break,” she admitted with a humorless laugh. “I’ve been so focused on trying to fix everything that I set unrealistic expectations. I can’t do everything but…what am I going to do?” She looked into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“What you need to do is take it slow, progress doesn’t come immediately. Patience is the most valuable thing you can have right now.”

The words seemed to get through to her, thankfully. But all she really wanted—needed right now, is you.

You laid back down on the soft but firm mattress, pulling her down with you. “Try and get some actual rest,” her head rested on your chest, cheek pressed again it. Her long legs tangling around your frame, pulling you closer as to mold herself into you.

“I love you..” her muffled words vibrated across your body. “I love you too,” you smiled as your eyes began to close.

She couldn’t ask for anything better.

A/N: Definitely the longest fic I’ve written in a while, it shows how much I love her!

[noirsdoll]

your mouth washing work is so good! what if curly was the one scheming the baby trapping on captain reader, like taking the condom off mid stroke (jimmy is fs the one that pushed him to do it, devil on his shoulder)

thank you so much what?!? i think curly would baby trap because he doesn’t want to lose you while he’s gone… (i didn’t see captain!reader until i was done writing it SORRY)

cw for baby trapping and a sprinkle of manipulation!! also some filthyyy smut and curly breeding kink!!

Piloting the Tulpar is like therapy for Curly. The gentle hum as the ship drifts through space, the dreamy green glow of the controls and diagnostics. He sits back in his chair, watching the blinking screen that displays the Tulpar’s trajectory.

They’re on the ending branch of their cruise, on their way back to Earth. Curly’s only thinking of one thing— you. He’s excited to get back and see your gorgeous face in person again.

Jimmy’s beside him, picking the dirt under his fingernails, tongue poking out of his mouth as he does it with utmost concentration. He’s bouncing his leg like he has somewhere to be.

“I’m thinking of putting a ring on her finger,” Curly says into the silence, “when we get back.”

“Cool.” Jimmy doesn’t look up, but he frowns, wrinkling his nose.

The quiet drags, Curly tips his head back against the seat, sighing in content. He has the whole thing planned out. He’s gonna take you to your favourite restaurant and ask them to bring over the band and play a song you like. He’s even got a whole speech that’s he knows by heart—

“That’s not gonna stop her from cheating on you.”

“What?” Curly turns to look at him.

“Yeah, well, I mean, what do you think she’s doing while she’s waiting for you to come back?” Jimmy snorts. “It’s not like you’re there to fuck her when she wants.”

Curly’s unsure of what to say. He’s never thought about it like that.

“We were gone, what, a little over a year this time?” He reclines with a creak, grinning. “Who even knows if she’ll still be there waiting for you?”

Curly frowns. “What could I do?” Jimmy’s right, what if he comes back to you and you’ve moved on or you’ve grown bored of waiting?

“Knock her up,” Jimmy says, like it’s the most obvious solution.

His eyes widen. “I couldn’t do that— We haven’t even talked about kids yet.”

Jimmy scoffs. “Then don’t talk to her about it. You want the relationship to last, right? This is the best way.”

The way Jimmy talks to him sometimes makes Curly feel like he’s looking at the world through a whole different lens, like Jimmy is expanding his horizons. And Jimmy’s right. You wouldn’t be able to leave with your belly all swollen with his kid.

So Curly does the unthinkable. When Curly gets home and you both have your habitual fucking that is more humping and groping than anything meaningful, he puts his plan into action.

Curly’s lips slot with yours, he kisses you messily. Your nails drag over the broad planes of his back as he lays you down like he has been wanting to do all this time. He thinks he almost cums just from slipping his dick in, the way your pussy clamps down on him is tighter than any hug you’ve pulled him into.

You both stare at each other for a moment, catching your breath, the air is hot and dizzying and there is so much want coursing through both of your systems. And then Curly sets his pace.

It’s sweaty and sloppy, shallow thrusts as he doesn’t want to leave your warm cunt for too long. He holds you down with one big hand spread over your stomach, fucking into you like it’s life or death.

His dick “pretends” to slip out of you, like his fat head could ever miss your cunt— it’s practically muscle memory. As he goes to realign his cock, he slips off the condom, sandwiching it into the pleats of the tousled sheets behind him.

You don’t notice, too busy moaning and whining and drooling into your pillow as Curly’s rhythm turns damn near brutal. God, he’s gonna breed you, he’s gonna fucking breed you. He can’t go back now.

Wet strings of your slick connect his hips to yours as your pussy leaks all over itself. The sounds it’s making are almost pornographic. Curly’s thumb slips on your soaked clit as he makes you cum alongside him. He read somewhere that it helps get you pregnant too.

You’re too fucked out to notice that creampie he just gave you, thick, milky cum dripping out of you. He reaches down with one finger and pushes his cum in deeper. He doesn’t want you wasting a drop.

Maybe this was a net positive, Curly thinks as he cleans you up, peppering kisses along your body and praising you for your hard work— laying there and taking it.

Now you have something to keep yourself company the next time he’s gone.

[iamconstantine]

arcane characters as college staff

Mel

History professor 

Refers to all students by (honorific) (surname)

Nothing but praise on ratemyproffesor

“I didn’t like history until I took Professor Medarda’s class” 

Doesn’t write scholarly articles, just giant ass books that she pumps out almost every year somehow

Quickly responds to emails. No response = its in the syllabus 

“Is there any make up work I can do to get my grade up—“ Absolutely not

But if you go the writing center you can get extra credit

Every year her students ask for an extension on the final project and every year she gives a long and furious rant about how the project was visible online from Day 1 and they had all semester to work on it

She has a beautiful office that looks like a miniature library and she only sees students by appointment

Jayce

Physics professor

Is a prolific author but somehow can’t figure out how to set up the course online

Prints cheesy physics memes 

Every zoom meeting begins with 1000 messages saying “professor Talis we can’t hear you your mic isn’t on” every. time.

you can come see him in his office any time, door’s always open

but his office is so messy you probably won’t be able to sit because he has a stack of papers on every chair

“Everyone got this question on the exam wrong so I’m going to give everyone credit because that means i didn’t teach it properly”

Always throws an end-of-year party at his place 

Caitlyn

English Literature professor 

would win best dressed of the staff, always shows up in the slacks-and-blazer fit

“To understand why the narrator wears red shoes, we need to take a look at the sociopolitical state of Edinburgh in 1864.”

if you reply to a discussion board post with just “I agree” you’re not getting credit and it isn’t up for discussion 

Never reads contemporary fiction. The “newest” book she’s read is The Great Gatsby

“We’re not having a party but if you want to bring snacks and soda to the last day of class that’s fine”

Covers a lot of authors but it somehow always comes back to Emily Dickenson

Is that teacher that assigns 400-page books every week

Constantly publishing in lit journals (rumor has it she writes steamy open-door romance books under a pen-name but no one has confirmed this)

Ekko

Art professor 

You have to actively screw up to get a bad grade with him

He wrote thousands of letters to the board until they caved and gave the class a proper kiln

“Write a three-page essay explaining why AI art is not art and insisting otherwise is spitting in the face of humankind. Double spaced. Due Friday 11:59”

Throws back coffee. Has a coffeemaker in the studio. Two of them. 

“Hey guys some of you are submitting assignments at 2 in the morning. It can wait until the next day. Please get some sleep.”

He’s created awe-inspiring pieces but if you just wanna paint a frog wearing a hat he’ll say “that’s cool”

Says he knows who banksy is but will never tell

He gets way too deep in the zone. Once reached for his coffee cup while painting, drank paint water instead. Didn’t notice.

Jinx

Chemistry professor 

If you email her the response will be “k” or “no” and nothing else

Waits until twenty minutes after the class begins to email everyone that class is canceled 

Never wears a coat, goggles, or gloves. But will call out students if they don’t

takes 5 years to post grades

“Look I’m not remembering any names. Too many. If I’m talking to you I’ll just point”

Puts a meme on the projector every day. Mostly incomprehensible. Picture of a horse on an beach and it just says “Zimbabwe”

lowest score on ratemyprofessor

someone creates a website called ratemystudent and administration has no proof that it was her because technically the students with bad scores being the same students that get bad grades in her class can be coincidental 

Viktor

Biomedical engineering professor 

Only professor who still uses chalkboards

First day of class is first day of class. No reviewing the syllabus, turn to page 34 in your textbook.

Puts things in the syllabus to catch people who use ChatGPT. If you’re caught, you’re removed from his class. Immediately. You will not get to plead your case.

Most of his cited sources are himself

Literally begs students to thrift their textbooks online instead of buying them from the school. Provides free PDFs as often as he can.

He reads journals every day and will write personal letters to authors he disagrees with

If a student asks a particularly dumb question he’ll step out of the room for ten minutes to compose himself and then resume teaching like nothing happened

Vi

Not a professor, works at the on-campus gym and leads clubs

Constantly curses without batting an eye. Students will leave class with their very uptight professor then come to the soccer club where vi walks in like “sorry I’m late guys i had a motherfucker of a headache this morning”

Please don’t ask her about anything that isn’t club or sport related. If you ask for directions or how to get in contact with student services she’s got nothing

If she refs for a game and you’re on the opposing team you’d better watch yourself. She will rip you a new one if you break any rules. One time a player grabbed one of her member’s mask during a game and he left crying after Vi was done with him

Students run into her at the local hangouts a lot but it’s never awkward. just reminds you not to party too hard before the game tomorrow 

Leads pretty much every club but dance. Wouldn’t admit it but she has no sense of rhythm and refuses to even do it as a student

You can call her coach or captain or just Vi, whatever you want. But if you call her Violet she’ll stare you down until you correct yourself

Heimerdinger

Anthropology professor 

Spends the first day of class getting to know everyone. “We’re going to go around and give our names and a fun fact about ourselves!”

Gives the “Nacirema” assignment and can’t wait to tell everyone the catch

His classroom is filled with artifacts. Don’t ask about any of them because it will take up class time

If you can’t make it to class he sends really nice responses saying he understands, then checks in when you come back

The only thing that puts him in a bad mood is the “why do anthropologists study dinosaurs if anthropology is about people” question. He’s old and tired 

Keeps thinking about retiring, keeps changing his mind

Silco

Political science professor

His classroom is bare and blank. No life. Just fluorescent lights and chairs.

Brags about how few people pass his class

Very strict on attendance. Too many absences and you’re out. 

If the assignment is due at 11:59 and you turn it in at 12:00, it’s late

“I am quite interested to hear why you believe you are deserving of a higher grade when you’ve spent less than thirty minutes attending all of my classes combined. Please, continue.”

Will straight up roast other professors no problem. Encourages students to pass it along

He encourages debate but the only thing students debate about outside of class is whether he’s hot or creepy af

Final project is a choice between A) A ten-page essay on why there is no ethical consumption under capitalism, or B) a presentation on why the country is doomed

Vander

Education professor 

Makes his own series of Crash Course-esque videos

Comes to class in jeans at best. Sweats, sometimes. 

He has one coffee mug that says #1 Dad and he refuses to use anything else

He puts fun questions on his exams, like riddles. If no one gets it, he actually gets sad

Whenever he erases the whiteboard he always misses a spot. He’s that professor.

If he catches you plagiarizing, you get one pass before he reports it. But you have to come to his office so he can tell you how disappointed he is and how much potential you have

He gives a seminar about how worried he is for the future of education and the wellbeing of the next generation and everyone leaves feeling guilty. Everyone.

Make a pop culture reference in class and everything will grind to a halt so you can explain it to him. Visuals help.

Sevika

Librarian

If you play music in the library she’ll walk up to you and just go “are you joking”

Have a phone call on speaker and she’s hanging it up for you

There’s signs telling you to be quiet every three feet

If you see her outside of school no you didn’t

She’s in charge of leading classes on accessing academic databases and she fucking hates it

Somehow knows where every book is down to the shelf. She’ll tell you what you’re looking for before you can finish your sentence

technically she’s supposed to do a walkthrough before closing for the night but if you can’t read the library hours on the signs it’s your fault if you get locked in

[soleilpinto]

DRS = Defining Relationship Status?: Epilogue °‧🫐𐙚⭒

“Defining Relationship Status Zone” 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐

Synopsis: Motorsport fan and model, Y/n, and her thirst-filled tweets about Franco catch his attention, sparking a hilarious online banter that goes viral. As their playful exchanges become real connections, fans and media can’t get enough—will their chemistry survive offline?

Genre: Fluff, Crack, Slowburn, (Slight) Angst

AU: Social Media AU!

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Note: And…Scene! That’s it from Franco and Y/n everyone! Thank you all so much again for getting this far, the support has been amazing and I had so much fun writing this. Wait for a bit because I have a Lando fic coming out soon so watch for that after this!

DRS Masterlist. (PREV.)

liked by francolapinto, francisca.cgomes and others

ynbardot holá argentina 🇦🇷

francolapinto te amo mucho mi vida (i love you so much my life)

— ynbardot yo también te amo (i love you too)

elenavalor MY PARENTS

elenavalor I LOVE YOU BOTH

@argentinangrid y/n is literally in franco’s home country WITH HIM. this is a W for him, for her, for us, for EVERYONE

@f1chaoss so y/n went straight from abu dhabi to argentina??? love that she’s wasting ZERO time

@paddocktea y/n in argentina??? the girl didn’t even wait a week post-abu dhabi to show us she’s with franco. WE LOVE IT

The golden hues of the setting sun painted the Buenos Aires skyline as you and Franco strolled through the cobblestone streets of San Telmo.

The bustling chatter of street performers and the distant sound of tango music set the scene, but your world felt quiet, intimate, as if it were just the two of you.

Franco reached out, lacing his fingers through yours, his grip firm yet gentle.

You looked up at him, and he gave you that signature boyish grin—the one that always seemed to melt your resolve, no matter how stubborn you were feeling.

“Do you want to stop somewhere for dinner?" he asked, nodding toward a quaint little café glowing with soft, warm lights.

You shook your head, a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Not yet. I want to enjoy this a little longer."

His thumb brushed against your knuckles as you both continued to walk, the air warm and fragrant with the scent of flowers and fresh empanadas from a nearby vendor.

Then, the unmistakable sound of tango music floated toward you from a street performer nearby.

Franco stopped in his tracks, his ears perking up like he’d just heard the world’s best idea.

“What are you doing?” You asked, laughing as he dropped your hand and took a dramatic step back, bowing slightly.

“May I have this dance, señorita?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock formality as he extended a hand toward you.

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your grin.

“Franco, we’re literally in the middle of the street—”

“Exactly,” he interrupted, stepping closer to take your hand before you could protest further. “Live a little, mi amor.”

Before you knew it, he spun you under his arm, causing you to stumble and laugh uncontrollably. “You’re ridiculous!”

“Ridiculously good at this,” he countered with a smirk, pulling you closer and swaying dramatically to the music.

It wasn’t graceful or even remotely close to an actual tango, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The two of you laughed until your cheeks hurt, Franco occasionally twirling you for the sheer fun of it.

The people passing started to watch, some clapping along to the beat, and a few even took out their phones to record.

“Franco, people are staring!” you whispered, half-embarrassed, half-thrilled.

“Let them,” he said, grinning down at you. “They’re just jealous they’re not dancing with you.”

You playfully shoved his chest, but he caught your hand and pressed it to his heart, the teasing glint in his eyes softening.

“You’re having fun, admit it.”

You sighed dramatically, letting him spin you one last time.

“Fine. Maybe just a little.”

As the music slowed, he pulled you into a mock-dip, nearly making you fall before catching you at the last second.

Both of you dissolved into laughter, leaning on each other as the street performer gave a theatrical bow in your honor.

“You’re impossible,” you said, breathless from laughing as you both straightened up.

“And yet, here you are,” he teased, leaning in close. “Still putting up with me.”

The rest of the evening felt lighter, freer, as if all the weight of the world had been left behind on that cobblestone street.

When Franco whispered, “I’m keeping that dance forever,” you couldn’t help but smile, knowing you would too.

© soleilpinto 25’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

[tipsynight0]

For the life we never knew

Parings- Jeff the killer x female reader

Word count - 975

TRIGGER WARNING - Miscarriage, blood, grief, child loss, trauma.

Summary - a quiet night takes a devastating turn.

Authors note - As you can probably tell, I’m not your typical Creepypasta fanfiction writer. My stories lean more toward real-life experiences—raw, messy, and unfiltered. Writing has always been more for me than anything else, a way to process what I can’t always say out loud. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism, maybe it’s just a need to put pain into words.

I know I haven’t updated in a while, and for that, I’m sorry. Life has a way of pulling us under when we least expect it. But for those of you still here, reading and supporting, thank you. It means more than I can express.

I guess I’ve always found comfort in heartbreak—in taking a story and twisting it until it feels real enough to leave a mark. So, as you read this, don’t be afraid to cry, to feel. That’s what it’s meant for. And maybe, when you’re done, we’ll both feel just a little less alone.

Hopefully, I’ll have more for you soon. Until then, take care of yourselves—and try not to cry too much.

Becoming a dad was never on the radar for Jeff. Not for someone like him—a serial killer with bloodstained hands and years of unresolved trauma. Jeff wasn’t the kind of man who would teach his kid how to throw a ball or give them advice on their first crush. Hell, he barely had any idea how to take care of himself. But when Y/N came to him that day, clutching the pregnancy test in trembling hands, terror written all over her face—not the kind of fear he was used to, the kind he relished in—it was different. This fear was raw, uncertain, vulnerable. And for the first time, Jeff felt it too.

The conversation that followed wasn’t pretty. There was shouting, tears, accusations, and a silence so heavy it crushed them both. But somewhere in that mess of emotions, there was a spark—something small and fragile. A seed of hope Jeff never thought he’d feel.

As the days turned into weeks, that seed began to grow. The thought of a child, their child, burrowed its way into Jeff’s cold, damaged heart. He found himself imagining things he never thought possible: a tiny hand gripping his finger, a toothless smile, a giggle that echoed in the halls of the mansion. He didn’t just start to accept it; he started to want it.

The house was alive with a strange excitement. Even the others couldn’t help but marvel at the idea of another child joining them—another innocent soul like Sally. Jack stole prenatal vitamins and a doppler, and Jeff had spent hours with Y/N listening to the faint sound of their baby’s heartbeat. He painted the nursery himself, his hands steady in a way they’d never been before. For once, the chaos of their lives didn’t seem so suffocating.

And then came the night that shattered it all.

Jeff barely stirred when Y/N slipped out of bed. She’d been getting up a lot lately, her small trips to the bathroom almost routine. He was half-asleep when he heard her call out, her voice trembling with something he couldn’t quite place.

“Jeff... come here... something’s wrong.”

The fear in her voice jolted him awake. He stumbled out of bed, heart pounding as he rushed to the bathroom. The sight that met him stopped him cold.

Y/N was sitting on the floor, her hands trembling and slick with blood. It was everywhere—on her thighs, pooling on the tiles, staining her nightshirt. Jeff’s breath hitched, his stomach turning in a way he hadn’t felt since the first time he took a life. Blood was supposed to excite him, but this... this made him want to vomit.

“I’ll... I’ll be back,” he stammered, his voice cracking in a way that felt foreign and wrong. “I’ll get Jack. Don’t move, Y/N. Don’t move.”

He didn’t wait for her reply, didn’t dare look back. He sprinted down the stairs, nearly tripping in his panic. He found Jack in the kitchen, dragging him by the arm before the other man could even ask what was happening. His words tumbled out, frantic and disjointed, but Jack didn’t need an explanation when he saw the scene for himself.

Jack knelt beside Y/N, his usually steady hands trembling ever so slightly as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Stand up,” he said softly. “I need to see.”

Y/N obeyed, her body shaking as she clung to Jack for support. Jeff stayed rooted to the doorway, his nails digging into the wood as if it could somehow anchor him to reality.

Jack’s expression was grim as he straightened, his voice heavy when he finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

The words hit Jeff like a physical blow. Y/N let out a strangled sob, her knees buckling as Jack caught her and eased her to the floor. Jeff moved without thinking, dropping to his knees beside her and grabbing her hand.

“No,” Jeff muttered, shaking his head. “No, no, no. This—this isn’t happening. Fix it, Jack. Do something.”

Jack looked at him, his hollow eyes filled with something that almost resembled pity. “There’s nothing I can do, Jeff. It’s already happening.”

Y/N’s grip on Jeff’s hand tightened, her face pale and glistening with tears. “Jeff... it’s my fault,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“Don’t,” he said sharply, his voice cracking. “Don’t you dare say that. This isn’t your fault.”

She sobbed harder, her free hand clutching her stomach as another wave of pain wracked her body. Jeff could only watch, helpless and furious, as the person he cared about most suffered in a way he couldn’t stop.

Time seemed to crawl, every second dragging like a knife through Jeff’s chest. He wasn’t supposed to care like this. He wasn’t supposed to feel this kind of pain. But as Y/N finally passed the tiny, lifeless form of what could have been their child, Jeff felt something inside him shatter.

He stared at the tiny, fragile thing Jack gently took away, his chest heaving as he fought to keep the scream building inside him at bay. Y/N was limp against him now, her strength spent, her sobs quieted into hollow, hitching breaths.

Jeff pressed his forehead to hers, his hand still gripping hers tightly as though letting go would mean losing her too. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

In that moment, he hated himself more than he ever thought possible. He wasn’t supposed to care, wasn’t supposed to feel this. But as he held Y/N and felt the life drain from the future they’d dared to hope for, Jeff realized that maybe, just maybe, he’d wanted to be a dad after all.

And now, he never would be.

[ladyeyrewrites]

💭💭💭💭 I KKOW I ASK LIKE ALL TIME BUT THIS IS GENUINELY THE MOST FIRE FIC EVER

@nattetheshipper Thanks so much! I don't mind if you keep the asks coming on this or any of my other WIPs. I've just started my weekend so I'll have plenty of time to write. Planning on polishing and posting the first chapter of this to Ao3 sometime this weekend too.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

“Might as well be a lifetime for Buck,” Maddie sighs, shoulders slumped with exhaustion. “I mean, he doesn’t even remember getting that nickname right now.” Her eyes widen with a sudden thought. “What if he doesn’t remember how to be a firefighter? He loves his job so much.”

Tommy shakes his head. “I doubt he can remember that he loves it.” Tommy does not add that Evan doesn’t even remember that he loves Tommy, because right now isn’t the time to succumb to self-pity, no matter how much he wants go home and climb under the duvet and cry until whatever bullshit version of the world this is gets washed away in the flood of his tears. “We should probably go tell the others what’s going on.”

Maddie nods and together they leave Evan’s hospital room to head to the waiting room to where the rest of the 118 are gathered still in their turnouts and soot streaks.

Karen’s arrived as well, bringing all the kids.

“Where’s Uncle Buck!” Jee-Yun half-yells as she runs up to her mother. And Tommy can’t help but picture her inevitable confusion and grief when she realises Evan doesn’t remember his favourite niece.

Make Me Write

[noforkingclue]

Hello, could I make a request please. A half elf niece of Galadriel receives the necklace of Thranduil's wife as a gift, they meet in Rivendell and he notices that she has the necklace. As she refuses to give up the necklace, telling him to wait a few years until the dwarves forget. He is determined to have both the necklace and her.

Note: requests are currently closed

Of course! Sorry this took so long to write...

Title: Second Wife

Warnings: dark fic (creepy thoughts), disparaging views of humans

You weren’t anything special.

Not that you should be.

The half human niece of Galadriel. The rest of your cousins shone brightly, as did the rest of that damned family, but you seemed muted in comparison. Blending into the background against the magnificence of the rest of your family.

Maybe that was why you were wearing the jewels that belonged, rightfully, to him. You were too plain to be a full blooded elf but… but there was something about you that drove humans away. Maybe it was the slight point to your ears or the way you held yourself.

Thranduil made his way across the room. You were standing in the corner, sipping your wine and observing the rest of the party. People didn’t seem keen to approach you and usually he wouldn’t lower himself to talking to someone half human. However, this was more important.

“You have something of mine.”

You looked up sharply at his voice. A brief look of surprise crossed your face when you saw who it was who was speaking to  you before you quickly tried to mask it again. Another human characteristic.

“Do I?” you replied coolly, but Thranduil was old enough to hear the slightly twinge of fear in your voice

“That necklace-”

“Was a gift.”

Not many people had the courage to interrupt him and from the way you stiffened you seem to realise your mistake. From the way you glanced over your shoulder, Thranduil guessed that your Aunt was looking over at you. Making sure that her favourite niece didn’t need rescuing.

“They do not belong to you.” he replied coldly, “I require them back.”

“They were given to me as a gift,” you replied, toying with the stones, “as part of a peace keeping, diplomatic… thing.”

So, you clearly didn’t inherit any of your elven side's eloquence then. Maybe your human genes had more influence than he previously thought.

“I can’t give them back,” you replied, “it would be… unwise.”

Thranduil paused and took a sip of his own wine. His gaze was locked on your face while you pointedly looked at the floor. That wasn’t unexpected. Most people wouldn’t be brave enough to look him in the eye.

“That necklace was not the dwarves,” he spat the word, “to give away.”

“I was not aware of that.”

“So return it to its rightful owner.”

Finally you raised your head and locked eyes. You smiled at him softly and for a moment Thranduil paused. There was a certain defiance in your eyes, a fire that wasn’t in most elves' eyes. Well, not when dealing with him. Maybe there was more to that human side of you than he initially thought.

“At a later date,” you said, “when tensions have cooled between us and the dwarves. Then I’ll return your wife’s jewels to you. I understand that you care little about having peace with the dwarves but I do. We have long lives. I’m sure waiting a few more decades won’t hurt.”

This time you did hold his gaze. Head held high and that defiant fire in your eyes. One that told him that you weren’t about to back down anytime soon. A fire that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to put out or to fuel. Either way, he now had a new goal.

Instead of saying he gave you a curt nod and turned on his heel. His robes swished around his ankles as he marched away, ignoring the stares in his wake.

He was going to get his wife’s necklace back, one way or another.

And a new wife to wear them for him.

[minervadashwood]

Wait For It: The Art of Living (part 3)

daryl dixon x fem!reader

Catch up here.

Dividers: @firefly-graphics Here and here. Word Count: 4.2 K Warnings: outdoor, intimate shenanigans Notes: I became inspired to write a third part to this story. If it's been a while since you read the first 2 chapters, you might want to reread them. Hope you enjoy!

Part 3: The Art of Living

“Mr. Schafer, there’s a guy out in the parking lot…just sitting on the back of his truck and staring at us,” Andrea, the new intern said.

You didn’t bother to look up; you were scrambling to finish everything before the Labor Day weekend began. 

Your boss, Bill Schafer, Jr., got up from his desk to join Andrea at the front office window. 

He sighed. “It’s one of those Dixon boys. What in the devil is he doing here?” 

You stood up so fast that your office chair rolled out behind you and hit the wall with a loud clatter. “He’s here for me!” you announced, perhaps a little too loudly.

Both Andrea and Junior glanced at you, out the window, and back at you.

Junior said, “If he’s giving you trouble, I’ll talk to him.”

“No!” you blurted, face growing hot. “He’s here to take me home. Because…because…”

Just then, Thelma, the senior paralegal, came out of the kitchenette, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “Oh, look at your face, honey. You finally making an honest man out of William’s youngest?”

“I-I-well, you see--”

At the window, Junior laughed. “What I wouldn’t give to have seen your momma’s face when she found out!”

You glared at your boss, the class clown who graduated high school a few years ahead of you. “If you must know, she and Daddy are fine with it.”

Frowning, Andrea said,“That’s your boyfriend? But he’s so…and you’re so…”

Thelma squeezed your elbow. “He’s a good boy when his brother isn’t around. You get on out of here. I’ll finish up.”

“I couldn’t do that to you, “ you protested.

“Nonsense,” Thelma replied, scooping the work off your desk and taking it to her own. “You’re only young once, after all!”

You looked to Junior.

He shrugged, “We all know Thelma runs this office, not me.”

You tried to hold back your smile as you quickly grabbed your things from your bottom desk drawer.

Outside, Daryl’s tailgate was down, and he was sitting on it, eyes narrowed at you. The weather was still warm, so he was wearing a tanktop and work pants. He was putting in extra hours at the plant nursery before colder weather set in and he couldn’t make as much money.

“Hi,” you said, grinning.

He hopped off the tailgate and swaggered up to you until he was less than an inch away.

“Ya ready to get outta ‘ere?”

“Yeah, but where? You can’t go to Cleo’s.”

Daryl stared at the ground and kicked a pebble with his boot. “Thought I could take ya out near the deep end of Willow Creek. I mean, if ya want.”

You looked behind him to see the bed of the truck half full of camping equipment.  “How long are you plannin’ to keep me out there, Dixon?”

He shrugged, a bashful smile gracing his lips. “As long as you’ll let me.”

You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Take me home to pack, please.”

Daryl slid one hand around your waist, his touch so light that you barely felt it. “Ya sure, sweetheart? If this is too much, we can just go to the park or somethin’.”

“I’m sure, Dare.” You paused, “I mean, if you’re sure.”

He nodded, his face turning red. 

“Okay, then. Let’s go.”

You hadn’t been off-roading since you were a kid, and boy howdy did it feel different as an adult. Your body bounced in the seat of Daryl’s truck as he drove it through the wilderness of the state forest. Calling the dried up path a “road” would be generous. It was full of pot holes and had downed branches the truck had to dodge. But Daryl seemed to take no notice of the rough terrain as he plowed on.

The path--and the truck--ambled on until the trees and foliage increased around it. This late in the summer, the trees and vines were thick and green. The hot sun dappled everything in a kaleidoscopic array of light. You caught the way the light and shadows danced over Daryl’s features, his sharp jaw and kissable mouth looking determined as he wove the old pickup deeper into the woods. 

It’d been a couple of months since you’d kissed him for the first time, and every time you were with him, you had to pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. 

The truck stopped, and the sudden stillness made your bones feel like jelly. You let out a long breath and released your death grip from the Jesus handle on the passenger side door.

Daryl shifted the truck into neutral and pulled up the parking break. His arms were magnificent. Strong from the manual labor he did at work, fluid from the familiarity he had with this beat up vehicle. Warmth swirled in your belly. More than once had you been wrapped up in those arms as Daryl kissed your mouth or hugged you close. You couldn’t help but imagine how they’d feel holding you other ways, too.

“Ya alright?” Daryl asked, peering at you with concern.

Feeling flushed, you nodded. “That was a rougher ride than I expected.”

Daryl nodded and turned off the engine. He stuck the keys in the sun visor and said, “Com’on. Wanna show you somethin’.”

Once you were out of the car, Daryl started walking ahead of you, weaving through the woods like it was his second home. You hurried to catch up with him and grabbed his hand.

“Not so fast, Dare. Let a girl catch her breath.”

Daryl chewed on the thumbnail of his free hand. 

Normally he wasn’t this wound up when it was just the two of you. In fact, over the past couple of months you’d seen Daryl ease into this relationship like a newly adopted puppy. Cautious at first then feeling right at home.  You weren’t much better. Every moment with him made you giddy, and it seemed like you could only stop smiling when he kissed you. Of course, after that, you smiled even more.

“Come on,” he said again, tugging you along by your hand. This time he went a bit slower, taking you to what you assumed was Willow Creek. You heard what Daryl had to show you before you saw it, but then the woods opened to a small pool with a waterfall feeding into it. The pool gave way to a little stream going in the opposite way of the falls.

The waterfall was loud, but not deafening, and you grinned, soaking up the sensory smorgasbord of sound and beauty before you. After a few minutes, you looked over at Daryl to see his reaction. Instead of taking in the view, he was staring at you, chewing the inside of his lip.

You smiled at him. “It’s beautiful.”

“What?” he shouted.

“It’s beautiful!”

Daryl ducked his head and put his lips to your ear. “So’re you.”

Before you could react, Daryl straightened up and walked toward the pool, still holding your hand.

The last of the summer wildflowers grew in patches near the pool of water, and hasty insects buzzed and flew around, collecting their last bit of seasonal pollen and summer food. You wouldn’t say no to a dip in the water if you’d brought your swimsuit. You were about to say as much to Daryl when he started walking straight for the waterfall, with you in tow.

When you got close enough, Daryl toed off his work boots, and you did likewise, taking off your practically new hiking boots (that you’d bought soon after the two of you’d started dating).

That done, Daryl paused, raised his eyebrows in question. You nodded and he took your hand.

He got under the water first, and you tiptoed your way along the smoothed rocky surface until the water pounded over your entire body. Cool, refreshing, and with the strength of twenty-some showerheads, the falls soaked you instantly. You could barely keep your eyes open through the downpour.

But with Daryl, it didn’t seem to matter. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing  his hands solidly at your waist and holding you close. Then, as the  sound and strength of the waterfall clouded your senses, Daryl kissed you.

After that, you kept your eyes closed. Sight and sound cut off, you could only feel him holding you close and claiming you with his mouth. Whatever shyness Daryl had during conversations vanished when he kissed you, especially like this.

You pressed yourself into him, craving the safety and strength only his body could provide. As the cold waterfall began to chill your skin, Daryl warmed you right back up. Your own hands roamed his back, sliding over his water-soaked tank top as your fingernails sought purchase. Your body slotted against his like it was meant to be there, and you wished you’d taken off more than your shoes before kissing him like this.

Daryl must have felt it, too, because he suddenly stopped kissing you and pulled you out from under the water. One look at him, and you knew what was on his mind. Forgetting your shoes, you pulled him away from the waterfall and to a patch of grass where the insects were less dense. Your hands grabbed his shirt and pulled it off him before Daryl could even think to stop you. In fact, he did the same to you, taking your soaked t-shirt and getting it out of his way. You kissed again, this time skin to skin. Daryl growled and moaned into your mouth. Your hand snaked its way down his front until you cupped the hard outline in his pants.  He gasped against your lips, but didn’t stop you.

Until today, there’d been nothing below the belt between you, barely below the neck. Now, for whatever reason, this was happening. And fast. 

His pants were undone quickly, and you grasped him in your palm. He was full, thick, and rigid in your hand. Mouth watering, you squeezed and stroked him. Daryl buried his head in your neck, kissing you there and gasping as you worked him. It wasn’t long before he started to tremble and tried to pull away. But it was too late; he exploded in your hand with a hoarse groan.

Daryl grabbed at his pants, trying to pull away without looking at you. Touching his hands gently, you stopped him and said in his ear. “Dixon, that was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Daryl stopped panicking and finally looked into your eyes. You kissed him softly and rested your forehead on his until you were both taking deep breaths together.

You gave him some time, and after a while, Daryl started kissing you again, holding you tenderly, his damp hands roaming the equally damp skin of your back.

You didn’t want to push him, but the ache between your own legs had only increased since you’d stepped out of the waterfall. Just when you were about to ease the ache yourself, Daryl wedged his knee between your legs. Without thinking you moved your hips, pressing your bundle of nerves to the denim on his thigh.

Daryl, with a tentative hand, pressed against you just where your apex met his thigh, and though it felt good, it wasn’t exactly right.

You felt like an idiot for not realizing it sooner. Using both hands you cupped Daryl’s jaw and said, “Have you not been with anyone before?”

“No,” he whispered. It was silent compared the roar of the waterfall, but you understood him well enough.

Letting go of him, you undid your pants and guided his hand where you wanted it.

“Gentle, Dare,” you said in his ear, but you hardly needed to ask for it.  He’d only ever been gentle with you. Gasping you held onto his shoulders, and you started moaning when he figured out how to touch you just right.

“That’s it, Dare. Please,” you begged.

“Do…does it feel as good as it did when ya touched me?”

“Yes,” you moaned, holding onto his shoulders for dear life. “Better.”

“Ain’t possible,” he said, reacting to each of your breathy moans to perfect his rhythm. In no time at all you climaxed with his hand between your legs and his head buried against you.

“So warm,” he said. “Fuck, honey, I just wanna feel ya and touch ya all over. This just ain’t enough.”

It wasn’t enough for you either, but you weren’t about to lay down in the grass, no matter how much you wanted him.

By the time you walked back to the pickup truck your belly was growling. You told Daryl as much, and he left you to change your clothes while he “rustled up some grub,” as he put it. He came back with two fattened rabbits and in no time had them stewed up on his propane stove with a couple of cans of vegetables tossed in. 

“A girl could get used to all this pamperin’,” you said, earning a squinty-eyed glare from Daryl as he put the stew into bowls.

“I wasn’t bein’ sarcastic, promise,” you told him.

“I could pitch the tent,” he mumbled. “But the stars’re gonna be out an’ I thought we could watch ‘em.”

You took your bowl from him, warmth in your chest. “I’d like that.”

“‘S not a fancy hotel or nuthin’.”

You pressed your hand to his chest. “You’re what makes this special. I don’t need anything else. Promise.”

Daryl nodded and cleared his throat. “Best eat up ‘fore it gets cold.”

You sat on the tail gate beside him and after eating a few spoonfuls of the stew, you said, “I take that back. I might you need to make this stew again. It’s amazing.”

Daryl didn’t reply as he slurped up his portion like a man starved.  He always ate like that, as far back as you could remember. Of course, sometimes he was half starved when he showed up on your family’s doorstep asking to spend the night.

It made you proud to see him now, a strong, dependable man. Able to take care of himself and nothing like his father. 

You pinched your arm just to make sure. Yep, still real.

After supper, the sun started to set, and the night was full of promise. Daryl made up the truck bed into an actual bed with padding and blankets and pillows. When he was done, you sat side by side on the tailgate, drinking a couple of beers and waiting for the sun to go down all the way. Daryl didn’t talk much, but you were full of nervous--or more accurately, sexually repressed--energy, and talked about work, an upcoming bake sale for your parents’ church, and a concert in Atlanta you wanted to go to.

Then, finally, you worked your way up to talking about something else.

You scooched closer to Daryl, leaning against him until he put his arm around you. 

“I’ve been savin’ up to get a place of my own,” you said.

“Mm,” Daryl replied.

“In town, maybe closer to the bus stop,” you rambled. “I thought about rentin’, but that’s like throwin’ money away basically, and I figured between you and John if I needed any repairs, it’d be okay. Thing is, I don’t know how many bedrooms I should get or if someday I might need a a garage to park a motorcycle in, or a place to work on cars. Not that I want to assume I’ll need all those things. After all, my life’s had a lot of change recently, and I could always sell the first house--I guess--and get another one. And I don’t wanna get somethin’ too big ‘cause then it’d feel lonely--”

“I dun want kids,” Daryl said softly.

“You don’t? I just assumed.” Up until now you thought you’d have kids if Daryl wanted them. But a suddenly a huge weight felt like it’d been lifted. 

“I don’t really want kids, either. I’m supposed to want them, right? But it’s never really mattered to me either way.“

“You sure?”

You snuggled closer to him, “I have all I need already.” 

“Me too,” he said.

Daryl already had his arm around you, and he slipped his hand under your shirt, and soon enough your clothes were coming off again. Daryl stood up and shuffled out of his damp jeans, then he rejoined you on the bed of the truck, grabbing your waist and kissing you at the same time you scooted back onto the padded bedding. You laid down and Daryl followed you, kissing you and pressing his body against yours.

The encroaching night was full of sounds, from the rustling leaves to the crickets and cicadas, to the hoot owls and whippoorwills. But the only sounds you noticed were Daryl and your ragged breathing. Your lips parted , and Daryl framed your face with his hands. He held your gaze as the last of the sunlight dipped below the horizon.

“Dare,” you whispered, in the safety of night. “I love you. Always have, but it’s different now. Bigger. Fuller. Do you feel it, too?”

“Yes,” he replied, a slight crack in his voice.

You leaned up off the pillows and kissed his forehead and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. 

Then all hell broke loose. 

He fumbled a little, getting your pants off your legs, but by the time you were both lying there in just your underwear, you were grabbing for each other: your hands and mouths were just as starved for the other as you had been for the stew. Your bra disappeared, your panties, his boxers. He palmed and suckled your breasts, you left love bites along his neck and shoulders. His hand found its way between your thighs, but more confident now, fingers caressing and stroking, dipping inside of you and making you squirm and mewl with pleasure. You stroked him only a few times before he stilled your hand and bit your bottom lip in warning.

“Wanna put myself inside ya. Wanna feel ya come on my cock, honey.”

“Yes, please,” you whimpered. 

He arranged himself between your legs and eased into you carefully. Something caught in you throat as he bottomed out inside of you and whimpered in your ear.

“‘You okay, baby?” he asked, smoothing hair away from your face.

“I’m okay,” you eked out, feeling so full and stretched around him. “Are you?”

“Feels so good, so fuckin’ good.”  Holding himself  on his elbows, Daryl buried his head against you as he started moving slowly, his hips gently thrusting.

“Yes, Dare, that’s it. Feels so good,” you encouraged, meaning every word. 

He moaned; sweat from his body dripped onto yours. “Touch yourself, baby. Wanna feel ya come.”

One of your hands gripping his hair, the other touching your clit, you moaned as Daryl moved inside you, picking up his rhythm. He kissed your jaw and the nape of your neck. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him in closer with each thrust. You came, moaning his name and riding out an orgasm so strong that it made your whole body convulse.  Daryl thrusted a few more times and he came too, groaning in your ear and finally kissing your lips as he came to lay down beside you.

Dripping in sweat, he pulled you against him, entangling your legs to get even closer.

You pressed your palm to his chest as your breath evened out and you came back to yourself. For the first time this evening you were silent as Daryl held you in his arms.

After a while, Daryl said. “No one’s said that to me before.”

“Said what?” you mumbled, deep in afterglow.

“That they love me.”

Tears stung your eyes, and you held onto him even tighter.  It was fully dark now, so you couldn’t see him. Perhaps that’s why he’d been strong enough for that confession. You could never replace the love he should’ve had from his family, but laying with him in the dark you wanted to give him the world. He deserved it.

Daryl found your hand in the darkness and held tight. “I love you, too.”

The stars twinkled overhead, the night clear and moonless. You made love again, once you both had rested some. Then you cleaned off your bodies as best you could with baby wipes from your purse.

The air grew chilly, so you got under the covers with Daryl, both of you still naked and holding onto each other.  

After a time, Daryl said. “We won’t need a real big garage if there’s a driveway.”

“Two bedrooms or three?” you grinned.

“Two oughta be enough ‘less you need one of them craft rooms.”

“As if,” you muttered. You never met a crafting project you didn’t wreck in less than an hour.

“There’s gonna be talk,” you sighed. “Livin’ in sin.”

Daryl didn’t say anything to that. He just found your lips in the dark and kissed you for a while.

“I’ve been savin’ up too,” Daryl said when he was done. “Won’t be much. It’s small. But I can add to it later. Guy said the setting would hold more.”

“Setting? Do you mean a ring setting? You wanna get me an engagement ring?”

“Wouldya wear if I did?”

“Dare,” you whispered. “Are you sure?”

“Does that mean yes?”

You kissed him and said, “It does.”

Epilogue

John had more than enough grandchildren to keep your mother happy. And as your parents got older, everyone else in your family moved to Florida. You and Daryl stayed in the same small town you grew up in. In the same house you bought as newlyweds.

You had the occasional houseguest when Merle stopped by, and after his third time in the slammer, you sent him to rehab with your Christmas bonus from work.  Took him three stays over the next few years before it stuck. But it finally did.

Daryl became co-owner for the plant nursery he worked at when the owner died and his kids wanted to sell the business. By the time you and Daryl were in your forties, you were happy and more in love than ever. 

Then the virus hit. First the cities, then everywhere.

You lost Merle early on. The dire circumstances caused him to relapse, and he sealed his own fate after losing his temper on a rooftop.

It took nearly five years of surviving, of struggle, of loss and grief. But you finally found a new home. Once a year, you and Daryl mourn everyone you’ve lost by drinking moonshine and going over old memories. Even the night Daryl found you crying on a bathroom floor with blood pouring from your nose.

You have graying hair; Daryl doesn’t. You live with him in the basement of your best friends’ house. Date night usually means dinner with Carol and Tobin or Aaron and Eric. You find time for yourselves when you can. Every moment is precious. You never miss the chance to tell Daryl you love him. 

However, these days, you’re not the only one.

Glenn and Rick both give Daryl side hugs after fighting off walkers or returning from runs. “Love ya, man,” is commonly uttered as a matter of principle.

Judith is wiley with her “I love you, Uncle Daryl,” because she has learned that’s all she has to say to get her way. Your husband knows this. Yes, it still works.

Carol is quick with a joke, a barb, with an insightful but unnerving observation. She gets Dary frazzled with her teasing and finishes it off with, “Love you, pookie,”once Daryl is good and worked up.

Every time you leave Aaron and Eric’s house, they hug you both and say, “We love you guys. Come back soon.”

It took over a decade for you and Daryl to finally admit your feelings for each other, it took even longer for him to find a family--and for you to find a new one. Despite the losses along the way, your lives are filled with love, both for each other and the all the people around you.

The End

Thanks for reading!

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

Part 4: damned if you don't

There are multiple species fighting against the time war → i really want something in new who that acknowledges this, because i love the concept of the resistance, of course there were people fighting against the time war, the time lords and the daleks aren’t the only ones with space faring capabilities, they aren’t even the only ones with time faring capabilities (though it seems implied that most of the other temporal powers got taken out early in the war)

‘I seriously doubt that any of them expect to live long enough to see the war end, i certainly don’t’ → oh narvin, this line brings me pain, but i do like it, the time war is horribly brutal, as well as its a time war, who knows how long it can go on for, do you think there were time lords who didn’t get to see its end, not because they died in battle or anything, but because they just didn’t live long enough

‘Under no romantic delusion that war is ever heroic or righteous' → can’t wait to get back to war room for this project (or really just any of gallifrey with rassilon in it) because this is definitely different to how rassilon and a good number of his followers see the time war

‘I still get reports from home about the increasingly unhinged schemes of rassilon the resurrected’ → rassilons insanity during the time war is so interesting to me, sure he wasn’t the best of people when he was originally alive, but he seemed somewhat more stable, less completely off the deepend, i wonder if it’s something about being in the matrix for that long that makes a person not quite right, you become a part of a repository of all time lord knowledge and then suddenly you aren’t and you’re back in a normal, mortal (to the extent that time lords are) body (the thirteen regeneration limit is there for a reason, that many lives can’t comfortably fit inside ones head, both in terms of that’s too much to have to remember and in terms of those past lives are still in there, at least somewhat independently of your current one), or is it a case of coming back to a society that practically worships you as a god (it’s probably both if we’re being honest)

‘I just hope they keep him away from the omega arsenal, too much to lose if that gets opened’ → interesting to me how, despite this seemingly being set pretty late in the time war, there’s still a whole arsenal of weapons that they haven’t touched, that really speaks to the power and instability of them i’d think, that even at their most desperate, there’s things the time lords won’t turn to. I do wonder if these are weapons from omega’s time, or if it was just named after him (or some combo of both where some weapons were put there later because they were deemed to dangerous, though the specific phrasing makes me think that it stays sealed for fear of what the weapons would do if it were even opened) (and assuming one of those weapons is the moment, it would make sense that others may have their own sentience as well, so they can’t be exposed to the outside world for fear of what they might do, even without someone to wield them)

‘And as for my beloved leela’ → i think gary russell should just write short trips where narvin is in love with leela, he seems good at it, and if he does that we won’t have to worry about another placebo effect (probably) (if you’re new here, welcome to my one sided feud with this man, based mainly off of four pages from one book) (i would love one of these from leelas perspective though), also just like the way that he doesn’t even seem to realize that he’s saying it until the words leave his mouth

‘Don’t let her hear that narvin’ → narvin i am shaking you, for so many reasons, but isn’t this a fucking report, that you are sending to other people

‘Romana did and now she’s gone’ → look look, this probably just him talking about the whole her being stuck in the matrix thing, but oh man am i worried it isn’t that

‘Braxiatel, vanished from the time lines’ → truly what the fuck is up with this man, i want to know what he is doing (and more importantly i want them to put him in the show so him and the doctor can be annoying at each other)

‘The time war has fractured us all’ → i’m sure this applies in the traditional ���war is horrific’ sense, but it’s probably also more literal was well, this is a war fought across time, and therefore has consequences on timelines, how many times have they lived something, or met someone, only for that to be erased or rewritten by the war

‘One thing that no one brings up anymore is how all of this is my fault’ → oh narvin, but really this makes me think, how many people knew what he did, how far did that information spread, and who really blamed him for it out of those who did know

‘I’m as scared, confused, and frankly rudderless as they are’ → i mean that’s probably true to an extent, but narvin also probably has a lot more experience with this type of thing than any of them, not only was he coordinator of the cia for a while, but he spent who knows how long exploring other universes and even lived in one where most people wanted him dead, and then he spent time running through the time war with romana before joining the resistance, the war may be horrible and confusing for anyone, but out of most time lords, narvin is actually pretty well qualified to be out there dealing with it

Eris still running the resistance → look idk if he survives this war, but he is going to need the break of a lifetime after this

‘When i was training at the cia i had coordinators and castellans like vansell and matthias, even kelner, what i’d do now to be able to bounce ideas off one of them’ → okay so many things with this quote, a) kelner mention, this is possibly like his only acknowledgement of him after the invasion of time (at least that i know of), b) coordinators seem to be pretty high ranking within the cia, but narvin still worked with them while he was in training, this kind of lends to my theory that cia agents (at least the ones who really end up getting anywhere) are chosen rather than actually climbing up the chain of command, and that those who are chosen get to work directly with the higher ranking officers rather than having to participate in more basic training with the other trainees/junior agents, and c) the castellans work with the cia, this is interesting to me, but i don’t really know how to articulate how at the moment

‘Their homeworlds were both among the first casualties of the time war’ → nekkistani and sunari

Archetryx mentioned → is this the only time we hear of it outside of the context of the events of the apocalypse element?

‘I am at this moment completely unconvinced that what i am about to do here is survivable’ → oh narvin

‘Would anyone really care if i died here today, or notice. I’m not entirely sure i would’ → the sheer difference between this and him from damned if you do, the time war has really just broken him

Gallifrey has astronomers, unsurprising, but well that’s another official confirmation of a job you can have on gallifrey

Askran sounds familiar to narvin → he never truly forgot kransa (i really like the idea that you can’t truly erase something from someone’s mind, even if you hide it, the shape of it will always be there, the person will always be able to bring some of it back even if they can’t consciously remember it

‘Battle uniform of a gallifreyan chancellery guard’ → they have a specific battle uniform, i’m assuming it isn’t any of the ones we’ve seen on the show, as those seemed to be very bad for battle, maybe they upgraded them a bit after things kept happening and they kept being useless, or its just another case of the war consuming everything on gallifrey

‘There was no way of them knowing that’s where i was from too’ → something about narvin becoming unrecognizable as a time lord over the course of the series when he had started as very much a time lord vs leela being mistaken for a time lord by pretty much anyone who isn’t one when she started off about as different to a time lord as you can be

‘But our rational brains quickly reject it and we barely know it happens’ → something something time lords shaping their own version of the narrative so much that anything outside of it must be false, even on an unconscious level, if it doesn’t make sense to how their society works then clearly it doesn’t work that way and it’s best that you forget about it

Of course he feels guilty for what happened to ace, he doesn’t even know it was brax’s fault does he

He remembers the watchmaker here, interesting

‘Years, decades, maybe centuries ago’ → one day i’m going to figure out the timeline of this series, one day (well hopefully) (this is in reference to the beginning of romana’s presidency)

‘Not only had she ceased to exist, she never had existed’ → this isn’t like new information, but it’s still fucked up that they can do that

The time shade rewrote reality around narvin, changed the name of the planet, brought kransa back

Well, at least narvin eventually learned how to lie

‘One of the dalek temporal bombs that stuck in the early days of the war’ → this makes me curious as to a) how long the time war went on for and b) at what point in the war narvin is at now, because he’s talking about the daleks directly attacking gallifrey, which as of war room 2 they haven’t done, and by that point the war is very much an established thing, so is it a case of that’s going to happen soon, or that the war just goes on for so long that even if it happens in the future of where the characters are currently at it counts as the early war

‘We’ve spent however many years fighting this war’ → look, they’re probably being vague about the timeline on purpose so that they can do whatever they want within the war and not be constrained by a certain amount of years to do it in, but i want a timeline that makes an amount of sense

Stasers upgraded at some point in the war to be able to penetrate dalekanium

Is the staser sound different here or is it just me (i mean i guess he did just say they were upgraded, but i like the original staser sound, sue me)

‘She would have had enough instruction and vortex training for her mind to learn the time lord trick of telepathic translation’ → a few things a) seems to be implying that this is a skill any time lord is capable of, but not necessarily one everyone is taught, b) vortex training, what is that and how does what i’m assuming is exposure to the vortex help with telepathic translation, c) ‘for her mind’ not specifically kransa herself learning it, possibly just some weirdish wording, but it also has me thinking that this may be in part an unconsciously picked up skill through exposure rather than active practice (though i assume it would be some combo of both)

‘All my years with romana, leela, and the others meant my own was pin sharp of the practice’ → i’m going to assume that this just means that he’s had to use this skill a lot, but it does bring up the somewhat interesting implication that they were speaking different languages on the alternate gallifreys (or maybe just different versions of gallifreyan that weren’t completely different, but different enough that he had to use that skill some) since him and leela didn’t do much traveling together out in the universe outside season four, though this could be implying that he needed the skill because leela wasn’t speaking gallifreyan, but she was so sorry if that’s what you’re implying gary russell, you’re wrong

‘We knew you were destined to save the time shades’ → gallifrey is really just one big cycle of people using other people to their own ends, your value is only in your usefulness in so many cases on that planet, not even weird god/spirit things are above that

‘Shortly after graduating from your class with honors at the celestial intervention agency’ → so agency training is kind of like academy 2.0? I mean this would make sense, there’s a part where narvin references having had two hundred years of training when we know the academy takes less than that (romana started traveling with the doctor when she was younger than 140), but it is interesting to me that narvin specifically taught a class, despite at that point being a pretty high ranking officer (at least i would assume, since it probably was pretty near to vansells death and if he became the head of the cia after that he would have already had to have been high ranking), do they really just give people cadets to train instead of like having that be a specific role someone has, i mean there’s probably something to be said about having people who are presumably very experienced in what they do do the training, but also, don’t they have like other things to be doing

‘We thank you, for achieving what was foretold and must be completed’ → to me this kind of feels like the implication that even though it’s something that had to happen, narvin still could have just not done it (something something fixed points aren’t actually fixed, but more something that the time lords have decided must happen, so then they happen and they will do pretty much anything to ensure that they happen)

The time shade is able to just destroy the dalek weapons, but is not able to just do that on it’s own since it saw narvin being there, so narvin had to be there, once the future is observed, it is no longer in flux

‘We can influence only the effect, not the cause’ → interesting how this contrasts the whole ‘the story changes, the ending stays the same’ thing that the cia has going on (or had, given what point in the timeline we are at)

‘And that is how my resistance cell survived the last great timewar’ → Narvin survives to the end of the time war!!!! Also seems that he’s now telling someone this story (the war doctor (?) based on him asking where leela is, i mean idk who else he’d be telling this to and asking that so)

Echoes through eternity notes

Part 1: damned if you do

(i already did my reactions so this is mostly going to be focusing on lore implications) (fair warning, this is Long)

i will say, i love that they're putting the theme for the era each audio takes place in, season one theme i have missed you

the comments about bad weather not being common on gallifrey are interesting to me, is it a case of they're really just not common, or is it due to environmental manipulation (i'm inclined to go with the latter)

very interesting that the transduction barriers are only over the citadel (pretty sure this is contradicted in other things, but also maybe there are just different layers of transduction barriers, idk)

they're soundproof

outsiders -> societal rejects, like renegades, but without the leaving gallifrey (or possibly that they can't given they never reached time lord status in the first place (called 'uneducated'), is renegade only applicable to time lords) (also shaboggans are referenced later in this audio, are they different or just two names for the same group of people)

leela lives with the outsiders 50% of the time, wonder when this stopped (i'd say after becoming romana's body guard, but i feel like in the early seasons she still managed to find some time to spend in the outlands, and in the later seasons I doubt she leaves the capitol as much) (something something becoming more integrated into time lord society whether or not she or the time lords like it)

'all with more than a passing interest in our temporal capabilities' -> this is either referring to those at the academy and narvin distrusting them because of this or that the academy is open to anyone with an interest and i can't actually tell which

'all cia coordinators' -> very interesting to me that there are multiple coordinatiors, the thing is though that we still only really see narvin as the coordinator (same with vansell while he has that job), so my theory is that there is a head coordinator (in this case narvin) who has oversight over the whole cia and handles the majority of the diplomatic relations with the other branches of the government and is the one who is put in the public eye, allowing the others to work with more secrecy, i'd also assume that other coordinators oversee sections of the agency rather than the whole thing

establishment that the high council, inner council, and supreme council are all separate things, unfortunately this does not tell us what the actual differences between them are and neither does anything else really, though that's typical of anything relating to time lords

'various chancellors and castellans of the chapters and houses' -> there were references to different chapters having their own castellans in other gallifrey audios, but the inclusion of houses is interesting to me, i have the feeling that it wouldn't be all houses with their own castellan, but i'm not entirely sure what he means by this (maybe theres something along the lines of each chapter having a house that represents it on the high council?), also i thought the implication was that there was only one chancellor, it wasn't a per chapter things (though maybe theres like a chancellor chancellor who works directly with the president and then chancellors appointed for each chapter)

'that's the one constant on gallifrey, change is never irreversible' oh buddy you have no clue what's coming. I do find it hilarious how much he talks about not liking romana here knowing what he's going to be like in the future, it is genuinely fun to get to see early narvin in a context we never have before, especially with access to his inner thoughts, because even though he's an ass and still working against romana and leela, you can see the basis for the person he will become later, he still fundamentally is a guy that cares a lot about the things that are important to him

'rassilon, omega, and the other' -> finally the other gets mentioned, also kind of interesting to me how he's remembered, but his name is still lost (do we get an explanation as to why anywhere else? feels like some shit rassilon would pull, and given the other two have their names remembered i don't think it just happened naturally)

matthias used to be cia -> it's interesting to me that he goes from being cia to working in other parts of the government, because from what we've seen it seems that the cia is kind of at odds with the other parts of the government (especially the president and their immediate inner circle) so I feel like being ex-cia would not lend itself well to getting a job in another branch of government, it feels like they wouldn't be trusted enough by other politicians for that (not that there's really a whole lot of trust anywhere in time lord politics but you get my point) (though possibly depending on when he was cia it might just not be known by those outside the cia that he was once a part of it) (i say depending on the time because of the implications that romana forced the cia to become more public with its dealings and stripped it of some of its power) (that being said, i do think the coordinator was always a kind of public facing figure there to cover up what the cia was really doing and have a hand in politics outside the cia to keep the organization informed)

'although the practice was frowned upon for a cia coordinator, i had adjusted my wrist communicators chime to identify the caller' -> interesting how he specifies that its frowned upon for his position in particular (something something secrecy and not giving any info to the enemy (other time lords) something something)

'junior rank time lord' -> i do not understand time lord ranks, this seems to be used both in reference to experience and nobility status at different times, i need a fucking encyclopedia or something

shitting on prydonians!!!! <- words of a guy who definitely doesn't have opinions on the chapters and how prydonians are kind of stuck up assholes a lot of the time

'at the end of each semester she was seconded to me' -> she was just mentioned as having been a recent academy graduate, so i'm assuming that this is in reference to her cia training (pretty sure there's an audio somewhere where narvin mentions it being two hundred years, though i could never figure out if that was academy + cia training or just cia training) also if this is here cia training i find it interesting that shes working under a coordinator, i wouldn't exactly imagine the guy who runs the place having to deal with recent academy graduates unless that was something he chose to do (and given narvin's tendency to try and adopt/mentor any young adult he spends more than five minutes around this does not surprise me)

god i would love to see what young narvin was like, i mean we know he was at least somewhat defiant (you know the whole abandoning his chapter for the cia thing) but i wonder what he was like as a cia trainee (also the implication here that he was working under vansell much in the way that kransa is working under him, maybe the cia coordinators do take on apprentices (or what i think is more likely is that they select promising agents young and train them to take on higher up positions within the organization later in life, i mean we know vansell was working with the cia even in his academy days, so i don't feel like this is much of a stretch)) (though the way narvin talks about it makes it seem like it's just a part of the job and not something they choose to do, but then again time lords love nothing more than tradition so maybe its just a thing that is done and has been done, so they do it even if they don't particularly want to or have to)

the matrix keepers -> interesting how its a job for those on their last regenerations (something something the old are given the task of upkeep of gallifreys secrets because they're old enough to know them just from life experience?) (or them knowing the secrets is not seen as a threat because of how close to becoming a part of the matrix they are, whatever they learn there is just going to go back into the matrix after all, and there's really not that much time until that happens), they also seem to be separate from the rest of time lord society (they've got their own coordinators and they seem to live down there) so they're not really at rick of spreading gallifrey's secrets

the ability to see through perception filters is learned

catacombs protected by perception filters at the entrance and psychic defenses within the air itself -> and yet academy era romana was just hanging out down there for fun it seems (also the reference to the ancient beings that live down there ('almost mythical' which is so interesting to me since we see over and over again that gallifreyan myths are just stories about their actual history and that their monsters are real, it seems here that narvin is acknowledging this to some extent), so they just know that there's things down there i guess? i mean seems very time lord to not do anything about it because if they're in the catacombs they're presumably not bothering them, but they're still accessible if needed for whatever purpose they may see fit

love that narvin is just letting kransa tag along even though it mean she's technically disobeying orders just because it annoys valyes

'the cia decides who does and doesn't have clearance in all security matters' -> interesting implications that they have the final say when it comes to security of gallifrey, not entirely surprising though (something something it being leftover from their start as rassilons guards even though they've split from their association with the presidential office by this point)

'i was rather surprised at how easily i lied' -> narvin shouldn't that be part of your fucking job description, though it does have the interesting implication that lying isn't necessarily needed to get into the high rankings of the cia, this could make sense given how much power they seem to hold, its more of a need to know how to proper wield that power than to be able to lie

cia intervention used to get around the legal and political consequences fro certain actions -> they seem to still operate outside the law to an extent, though narvins reaction says that maybe they are still able to be held accountable to it

'perception filters had not been fully triggered' -> ???? narvin what do you mean by that, i've been typing for too long to actually put the effort into thinking about this one, i would like to request that narvin explain it to me personally, but honestly i don't think he actually knows about about perception filters for that

capitol seems to be split up into sectors, i very much would like a map of this place or something because it seems huge and complicated based on everything we've heard about its architecture

love the idea that you can look through a perception filter by catching it out of the corner of your eye

narvin not knowing how the perception filters work -> i wonder if this is a type of thing that you only learn if you pursue certain career paths, like you're not going to learn the details of how a perception filter works in an introductory engineering class, but you might learn how to create one in a more advanced class (also probably something something they don't want people knowing these things because even if they are other time lords they still need to be able to hide information from the general public and people knowing exactly how perception filters work puts that at risk)

being a time lord lets them see through the perception filter -> interesting how this is something that seems explicitly linked with the whole looking into the untempered schism thing, having that experience fundamentally changes a person and how they see the universe (also interesting how he links it to being 'time lords of rank and status' because as we have previously seen its a thing that happens when gallifreyans are pretty young, i am curious as to if he's just saying this to separate them from the alien students that managed to see through it though)

'a time lord, probably of the first or second rank' -> again with the time lord ranks, see he's talking about academy students here so i would assume said time lord is also an academy student, based on other bits from this audio i wonder if the ranks are sort of a way of showing how far along in their education they are (sort of an analog to stuff like elementary, middle, and highschool, as well as college and postgrad stuff), with his comment about the 'time lord of rank' and looking into the untempered schism possibly that is how you earn being a first rank time lord, if you pass the test of the untempered schism you get that rank, and then there's second rank which idk what that would refer to but it seems that it possibly still means you're at the academy, and given kransa is called a junior rank time lord, i'm assuming that is given to time lords pretty fresh out of the academy

interesting the implication that the houses get punished for the actions of their members whether or not they actually had anything to do with what that person was doing (something something legacies and nobility, can't have a bad mark on their record otherwise it says something about the whole bloodline)

the doors use biodata -> interesting to me because we see in other things that there also seem to be retinal scans and just straight up codes, wonder if this is a case of differing security levels, anyone can learn a code, and i would assume its much easier to fake a retinal scan than a scan of someones biodata

is it just the time lords we meet, or are all of them weirdly self sacrificial

'according to some accounts, we were no longer in the same time and space as the rest of the planet' -> fascinated by this, the catacombs are their own sort of pocket dimension (and there's the whole thing with the door disappearing after they go through it)

'the creatures and whatever existed in the catacombs had created their own pocket reality'

the thing about gallifrey as a planet is that it's full of people who insist on scientific belief and that religion and myth and magic are below them, but it fundamentally is a place that is full of magic and myth, their history is so long and complex that the time lords themselves are mythical beings and their myths are historical accounts

'assuming the dimensions in here are stable and not in a state of flux or wither' -> interesting to me because the like fundamental state of things on gallifrey is that they don't flux of wither, but the catacombs seem exempt from this, narvin assures kransa it's probably fine, but there's no guarantee like there is on the rest of gallifrey

and narvin discovers his instinct to adopt people -> i mean on that note i do like that even though this is early narvin and he clearly holds all of the biases instilled in him by time lord society, he still also clearly cares, we see the basis of the passion he puts into the things he cares about that leads him to be a better person in his future

are they using some sort of psychic whatever to choose the direction? intuition? because this is clearly some sort of teaching moment, so its not just random, but a skill that can be learned, what exactly are they basing this off of, like what are they subconsciously looking for to lead the way or do they even not quite know and its just a thing that they do

east gallifrey doesn't have houses!!!!!! -> god i love anything that shows that gallifrey and the time lords aren't just a monolith, they may present themselves that way to outsiders, but they're not all the same, there's also the fact that despite having no house she still has a chapter which actually i feel like helps to clarify a lot of confusion around how the chapters work (at least for me), so houses probably have chapters that they are affiliated with and if you are born into that house, you are probably going to be in that chapter, but at the same time it is perfectly possible to go to the academy for a chapter that your house is not associated with (though i'd assume this is much less common than joining the chapter associated with your house)

'someone from one of the greater houses' -> brax house (sort of) mention, there's also his thing about chapters and houses not mattering as much these days and it being like a thing that he wasn't ostracized for this (something something the houses must maintain their image because their image is their power, but that power (and with it the need to control the image) is slowly fading), the whole everything about gallifreyan class structure is very interesting to me, because clearly the time lords are the ruling class on gallifrey, but even among them theres differences, your house or chapter has an influence (prydon has produced more presidents than any other chapter and we know that multiple of the chapters hold little to no political power) (and with the houses we see in transference that being born into a house doesn't mean you'll go to the academy and become a time lord, but i'm sure that for the houses of higher status (say lungbarrow since we're talking about brax here) it's pretty much a guarantee that a person will go on to become a time lord)

'my own origins from a family of humble temporal engineers, my uncles transgressions that brought about his exile many years ago' -> i need to know more about narvins backstory, please tell me more about narvins backstory, what did his uncle do? also theres the fact that narvin was not born into high status but still managed to achieve high rank within the cia, wonder what that process was like for him

the bit about narvin wondering if brax was goading him personally -> the implication that narvin is very much affected by his house status in his everyday life/his career while brax probably doesn't have to worry too much since he was born into a high house

'is my background a problem for my training or future' -> time lord classism runs deep, i mean the eveything about this interaction shows this, but yeah

'the ground beneath us, well beneath me, i can only assume it was the same for kransa' -> the fact that the catacombs are weird and fucked up enough for this to be a thing he says is really something, i mean he does go onto talk about the wall being weird and them moving, the dimensions around here are weird and i like that, citatels haunted

seventh door -> what is the significance of the different matrix doors?

'conceptual environments that simply couldn't exist but appeared completely real' -> like i said before citadels haunted, but seriously i think its interesting that the structures themselves are alive, i mean we see this with the houses and stuff, but with the matrix it's a repository for the minds of dead time lords, so i have the feeling that it's less it was built to be alive in the first place and more the accumulation of time lords within it gave it a sort of life, and that even though these structures aren't entirely 'real' because they are built from the minds of a psychic species and are interacting with the minds of a psychic species they may as well be

'were the catacombs simply an extension of the apc net itself' -> see above

'but surely others had studied it before' -> if you have to say this they probably didn't (or it was like one guy) (speaking from experience)

'everyone knew about the catacombs ..... but i couldn't recall any reports from people who'd explored beyond, but surely they must exist. all the stories of the creatures that dwelt here must come from somewhere, someone, so why couldn't i remember reading anything' -> the information is known but it does not exist, love this concept, a society that catalogues everything and yet things from right under their own feet go unwritten, i feel like to an extent this is probably a product of how their society is structured and what beliefs they deem acceptable, all their myths and monsters are real, but that's too close to magic so we won't write it down, on the other hand maybe they don't want to be written down, maybe its that there is information that can only be properly passed on through stories and not reports, also something something all time lords are connected to the matrix, the matrix is the repository of all time lord knowledge, there are something that you don't need to read about, that you don't need to learn, but you still know them

there are non humanoid students at the academy -> don't think there's actually any big lore implications with this one, just seemed like something to note

'their torch light appeared to unnaturally stop' -> narvin your planet is haunted i don't know what to tell you

'it was as if by standing there he, she, it somehow absorbed light, shadow, anything' -> like i said before the time lords may like to present themselves as a society that's above 'primitive' beliefs, but fundamentally gallifrey is a place of magic (now there's the argument to be made that magic and science are one and the same but i don't thing that negates my point)

'the head was a black globe .... it gave neither light nor reflection, again as if absorbing everything around it. a black hole'

'i don't know why but i knew this thing was not benign' -> has some sort of psychic aura?

the implication here that narvin considers like actual emotional responses to be below time lords (reminds me of homunculette crying about marie while going why am i crying i'm a time lord i don't care about things)

'its ability to create pockets of frozen isolated time meant it was more powerful than anything i could ever have imagined' -> very interesting to me knowing that the cia have put whole planets in stasis or time loops or whatever before, does it get more complex as you get to smaller spaces? actually maybe its that they need complex technology to do this and the time shade is just kind of doing it

also i've said it before and i'll say it again, gallifrey is a deeply haunted planet, and i don't just mean that as a joke, it has a long enough history and its technology works in such a way that its myths and gods and ghosts are all real

'i'm going to be destroyed by the living embodiment of sarcasm' -> i mean really narvin, how else would you go out if not that

'the time shades were legendary, reports of their existence going back to the days of rassilon' -> something something the time lords dared to mess with time so it forever changed how their world worked, like with the matrix dimensions being weird and that information just being Known i feel like that could be a product of accumulated time lord minds within it, but with the time shades i feel like its more a consequence of if you mess with time it will forever change everything, both in your past and future, these things have consequences on the fabric of the universe itself

'the shade of eternity, the shade of war, the shade of dreams, the shade of protection, the shade of.. i couldn't remember the entire pantheon at the moment' + the shade of portent -> i truly do love how time lords act like they're above religion and all that but they undeniably have gods and they still do treat them as gods

i feel like there's probably something to the fact that it's wearing gold, i just don't know what at the moment

'for a time lord of so low a rank' -> see here i think its talking about rank in terms of houses not like achievement of status, because in terms of job narvin is pretty high ranking, but as we've established he does not come from a particularly noble background

'you are a pivot around which so much of what is to come rotates' -> this kind of plays into an idea that i really like and its that gallifrey's future is largely fixed, the time lords can mess with the time lines of other species and planets all they want, but by the nature of them being the ones to wield that power over time, they can't actually alter their own time lines all that much, since they can change time they are also the center around which time changes, the eye of the storm if you will, and that means that they have very little control over what happens to them (maybe this is why they're so obsessed with controlling the narrative, because if they can't actually control the events themselves, they can at least control how everyone perceives them)

'shocking really but it has been decreed' -> time herself said it and we can't argue with that (at least that's how i'm choosing to interpret this)

'free will, change, alteration is not an option'

the way the time shade talks to narvin (i'm not writing it all out sorry) about how he's just a small bit of practically nothing in the scheme of existence -> the time lords see themselves as so important, but really they are just people like everyone else in the universe and the universe will largely treat them as such, a king may hold more power, but at the end of the day he's just as human as a farmer, and the dirt they're buried in won't be able to tell the difference

'a shard of the essence of the untempered schism, but wrapped around reality, my reality' -> this is very cool imagery to me, just the fact that for a moment the web of time is bent to wrap around narvin and his existence, that the time shade has the power to do that

'the high collared black of a magistrate' -> more info about how time lords dress is always good to have, if you're me at least, not that i particularly do anything with this information, i just like having it

narvin seeing that he's the one to start the war :(

narvin is actually linked with a tardis (i'm assuming its the one ace rigged), i love that we get confirmation that it's not just a tardis he is flying, but His tardis (also the 'linked eternally' bit -> the bond between a time lord and their tardis is forever then? interesting given how other things have implied that the bond can be severed, but maybe this is only the case in extreme cases, but otherwise it just stays? also maybe something something tardises exist in a relationship with the vortex that means they don't perceive time linearly and that applies to their bond with their time lords)

the encounter with the time shade is erased from his memory, he still has the impression of it, but of course just writes it off as shadows, what else are you going to do in a place like that where reality isn't quite real

knowledge comes with a price -> the price was kransa

i said this in another post, but i'm going to say it again because it's still funny to me, but i know narvins note to romana is probably through official channels, but i am just imagining him sending her anonymous hate mail

interesting how even if its been erased narvin seems to be able to know something is gone and even what is gone (something something time lords and their unique relationship and ability to perceive time)

he still dreams about it, the burning planet and kransa -> he needs that knowledge for time to happen as it should, as it must (the time war was always going to happen and he was always going to start it, it's unavoidable, it's what time has determined will happen so it has to happen, the story can change, but the ending will stay the same)

'saving gallifrey from its president' -> well he will be doing that in the future, but definitely not from the president he was expecting

[pupyuj]

wdyt about aiah 😋

SHE’S WAYYYY TOO PRETTYYY

she’s so wanderlust gf that makes every stop on your trip super romantic and fulfilling OUH

[inthehouseoffinwe]

Finarfin Fades.

No one expects it, no one’s faded in Valinor since Miriel. The War of Wrath is won and he comes back, waving off the courtiers, well wishers, and congratulators with his usual grace, and walks into the palace of Tirion. To rooms abandoned since their owners left so long ago. Winding deeper and deeper his feet take him to what was once Finwë’s favourite garden.

He’s so tired.

He’s fulfilled his promise to Fëanaro and Nolofinwë, to avenge them. To make the agony of their final moments - agony Finarfin felt, falling to the floor screaming as fire and darkness consumed his spirit - count for something. Now Morgoth is finally gone, but he’s not the only one.

His brothers, larger than life, larger than death, are gone. With them his sons. Niece. Nephews. Grandchildren. His daughter is never to return. He Saw little Nelyo’s death in his dreams and is sure hopes for the child’s own sake that Makalaurë will be close behind.

Little remains. Even less on these golden shores.

So Finarfin sits on a bench long overgrown with vines and weeds, and watches the sun filter through the thicket, wishing the ghosts he sees in his father’s garden would flesh out.

He sits. He waits.

And by the time anyone finds him, it’s too late.

…at least he’s smiling again.

[megarywrites]

Finished part three (of five) yesterday on the plane!! Hoping to get a lot (if not all) of part four written while I’m here 😌

[tvrningout-a]

rin is so annoying in the funniest way and i won’t rest until she’s messed with all of your muses : )

[you-are-my-neverland]

guess who actually finished the prologue!

[filiseverus]

You make me believe in impossible things,

Can the sun rise twice on the same day?

I’ll walk the land of the dead to ask for her permission,

To love again.

[veinpursuer]

WHERE’S MY FUKING CAPO