#drabble or ramble who knows

[aesthetictarlos]

Sometimes Tommy has trouble falling asleep because his thoughts are too loud and he can't silence them.

The first time it happens when Evan stays the night, he tries to act like nothing's bothering him. Except that Evan is right there and can sense how tense and restless he is, so when he asks... Tommy tells him the truth. Evan, kind, sweet Evan, asks how he can help and Tommy doesn't really know because he never had anyone who would want to help but he likes Evan's voice so he asks him to just... talk. Evan does as he's been told and starts telling him random facts, his voice soothing and steady and so calm that Tommy eventually falls asleep.

It becomes a habit. Every time Tommy has trouble falling asleep, Evan holds him and talks to him. It's not always only random facts, sometimes he tells him about his past travels, and sometimes he talks about the latest documentary or tv shows he watched.

The first time Tommy finds himself restless and squirmy in his bed, at 3am, after the break up, he tries to close his eyes and imagine Evan's voice. He still remembers it perfectly, but it's not the same. He plays all the voice messages Evan has sent him, but it doesn't work. He's desperate, he had a tiring shift and he needs to sleep but he can't, they had a rough call and he's feeling scraped raw so he grabs his phone and stares at Evan's name and eventually presses the call button, holding his breath as he waits. When Evan's worried voice comes into his ear, he exhales a shuddered breath and nearly cries, telling him that he's sorry and that he knows he shouldn't be calling but he just needs to hear a random fact or two, because he can't sleep and he needs to and he misses him, his voice, his fingers in his hair.

Evan starts talking, no questions asked, voice soothing and calm as always, and Tommy starts to drift off, lulled by Evan's words.

[deviouz]

Just bc your fat dont mean you gotta say the characters are gonna like that... Satoru def wont like fat bitches, hed prob be into models😂yall are so delulu

not only are you horrendous with your grammar and punctuation, but you also lack intelligence! for the love of god, pick a struggle. it’s just kind of sad at this point, nonnie ): go touch some grass and stop trying to police other people’s personal headcanons on fictional characters.

as far as i am concerned, every character i write for is into “fat bitches” because i said so!

some of you jjk “fans” are genuinely so embarrassing.

[s1mpactafterhours]

ok so i did a variation of this over on the sfw genshin main BUT i also wanted to make a filthy version too bc like my brain's been wandering- but anyway.. hear me out 🗣👏🏻

al-haitham coming home and barging into his housemate's room to tell him something or ask about something (etc etc) and accidentally walking in on kaveh absolutely plowing you, like you're both going at it hard until you suddenly hear the door open. (kaveh had assured you he wasn't supposed to be home until much, much later!) and so you're just desperately trying to cover up or hide or something, anything- but kaveh's noticed the way al-haitham looks at you, even if the man himself has no idea yet, so he just keeps going at it, witness be damned. al-haitham makes some offhand remark about how neither of you have any decency, but if he weren't wearing those damned headphone looking contraptions you'd be able to see just how red his ears were.

this is unfortunately how he begins to come to terms with his attraction to you, and unknowingly begins his learnings of the ways of heartache. kaveh pays this no mind, feeling that he's finally got the upper hand on his smart ass, seemingly unshakeable housemate. he's on a mission to make you scream his name, as many times as possible, as loud as possible. at some point, though neither of you hear it, al-haitham just ends up slamming the door on his way out, leaving to go to the library or literally anywhere else.... but not before guiltily rubbing one out. you two provided the perfect background noises he never knew he needed, but more importantly, it was your moans that were driving him insane. how would you sound screaming out his name all night long instead?

so off he goes to busy himself with work, so much work, so much that he ends up taking on extra work just to distract himself from the honeymoon phase you're both in, and the way kaveh just can't seem to stop showing you off in front of him. he can already tell the latter is doing so on purpose, but he refuses to let the blonde get the better of him. you're aware that something is going on, but attribute it to their weird relationship and how they're just always fighting.. though it has been awfully quiet lately, and you're starting to get suspicious. kaveh is quick to assure you that al-haitham is just very busy with work, and he's even quicker to get handsy with you. cuddles while he works on his projects, hands on across your shoulders or thighs at dinner, all the nights you two fuck your stress out before collapsing together in bed.. you're far too entranced by your seemingly sickly sweet lover to see through the haze, but it's always harder to think straight when you're getting your back blown out (or blowing him out-) ..and so, you don't.

and even as al-haitham has time to get himself back together, he can't help but wonder if maybe things would have turned out differently had he been more aware of his own feelings. if he had asked you out first, would that be how the both of you would be now? or had you always only had eyes for kaveh? the questions that used to keep him up at night become mindless chatter as he tries (and fails) to block you both out on the other side of unfortunately thin walls. but life goes on, and so does your relationship, and before you all know it, you're making plans to move in together, to share your lives together, and suddenly al-haitham finally knows what loneliness feels like.. all alone in a house that used to house shenanigans for three. he's not sure if he'll bother looking for a new roommate now that he's been promoted, but sometimes he can't help but wish he could share the news with you both, and how he misses your antics and smile and.... he belatedly begins to realize he misses kaveh too. in which a new set of questions unlocks thoughts he'd never even considered... had he harbored feelings for you all this time, or was he instead projecting because he was jealous... and falling in love with his own roommate all this time?

[nina-ya]

I FINISHED LAW SMUT

[eebie]

i cant keep it hidden any longer

[fishyvamp]

This would happen way way further down the line in the fae!AU timeline. Just thinking about Fae!Huntress somehow she and Little Cub get a kit of their own just this small little thing that somehow looks exactly like the perfect mix of you and her. the rabbit Fae picking the child up by the scruff to show the other Faeries she's close to:

Fae!Trapper couldn't give a shit (a lie), kids are a hassle, and he's like 70-80% sure he'd be a shit dad. Most fae are anyways, but his father in life wasn't great either. No guarantees that wouldn't bleed through. Though his husband does look kid of cute holding the small kit. Nope, kids are a hassle the kit you and Fae!Huntress made isn't going to change his mind.

Fae!Hillbilly gushing over the little kit talking about wanting pups of his own to complete his family. Bug just shooting Little cub an annoyed look mouthing "god no". They're only just now adjusting to the fact that the dog they adopted a year ago is actually a fully grown man.

Fae!Wraith wondering if kids would be smart for him and Jinx. Knowing their luck they'd end up either with no kids or triplets if they tried. The sleepless nights, the endless tantrums, and there is still the lingering question of wether or not that luck is hereditary. Does he really want to risk being around that many black holes of luck? Nope not ready yet, but the kid is cute and he's happy to see Huntress so proud of the baby girl she's somehow made.

Fae!Executioner for just a moment pictures rat with a pup and promptly shoves that thought as far out of his mind knowing that whatever would come out of the unholy union of him and Rat would be a menace not just to him, but to the community as a whole. He's content to see Rat cooing at the child talking about the mischief they want to get up to with the kit once she can walk.

Fae!Ghostface sees all the fuss, he isn't allowed around the kit because huntress still wants him dead, but he fantasizes about giving sprig another little sapling all the same. His body all warm and fuzzy just imagining making Oak a big brother. Ghostface mentally wondering if he should get all of him involved keep sprig nice and filled. Yeah, that sounds like the perfect Idea for the Fae of many faces. Somewhere sprig is filled with a sense of dread already feeling his body aching knowing someone is having nasty thoughts they shouldn't be thinking.

[mochabonesblog]

Imagine being bills mum for a sec. this weird old white dude (sorry I love you!) follows her around for about 6 months taking photos of her and refusing to say why but insisting it's very, very important and photos can endure, can be windows into past lives, memories for other people, and sometimes you when you're feeling a bit foggy.

then he tells you not to think about that too much because it's making you all frowny and existential which is not a bad way to be, thinking is always a good idea but you need a bit of joy and contentment in your memories don't you? you don't want people to think you're always unhappy because believe him, he has that problem all the time- people thinking hes always a miserable sod- its the eyebrows, he says, they seem to be always angry about something but in 4 billion years they've never let him know what they're angry about, which is ridiculous isn't it? they're HIS eyebrows he should be able to dictate their level of anger but sometimes you get faces like that don't you? oh he supposes you don't but you don't have to worry about that, you have kind eyebrows, so you don't want them to worry by making them frown all the time, what? oh yes sorry you can stop smiling now the camera ran out of film. What? five minutes ago why?

Oh you DO have angry eyebrows.

[secret-third-thing]

the long fic ideas aren't budging tonight. any drabble requests? i'm capping myself at 500 words. 1000 if I can't help myself.

uhhhhhh i guess no content limits until i discover something. also ngl i know yall like smut but it will take 3x as long for me to write those. not saying you can't submit those, but the turn around is gonna be evil

[quietwingsinthesky]

Drabble 193/366 - Doctor Who

She does understand.

She’s lived too long not to. She’s felt Graham’s grief despite her lost wedding ring. She remembers playflirting the way Ryan does when she was a man.

She knows what the look in Yaz’s eyes means when it falls on her.

Too early, too late. She feels like the awkward rut in the road. Trapping Yaz, herself ground down. To escape she’d have to tell the truth, break Yaz’s hope, and offer comfort for her unrepentant hearts’ regeneration: for the love she can’t feel and the friendship she can.

If with anyone. But not her. Not her.

[likesunsetorange]

When he finally knocks how she wears certain sets with the intention of getting him to notice just for her to get embarrassed when he starts playing along and doesn’t try to hide his looking 🤭

THESE PAJAMAS!!!!!!!!!!!! why are these in particular such a pivotal thing in this au like???

but anyways fuck it drabble rahhh 🦅🦅🦅🦅 is this my drabble emoji bat signal lmao??? anyways whatever here we go!! ended up being a lil diff but i think it kinda fits the realm of what you said hehe bc i def agree he’d eventually just stop trying to hide his staring all together he’s just so brazen w it lol

ALSO HBD EREN 🥳🥳🥳

(also if u ever notice it takes me comically long to reply to your ask even tho im answering others more than likely this is probably why haha)

Eren is enjoying this shift in their dynamic more than he likes to admit—more than he's proud to admit. Going from yelling at one another, hardly even getting along, to whatever he can say they do now, a mostly amicable and peaceful dynamic within their shared space, it's nice. But aside from that, he can't say he doesn't enjoy watching Mikasa, the Mikasa who was once a constant 66 inches of never ending rage and bitchy remarks, be absolutely flustered at the smallest things.

At first, he couldn't quite pinpoint that Mikasa of all people, could possess feelings of shyness. She could bitch him around with no issue—she'd spent months doing exactly that, teetering along the lines of verbal abuse. But now that they've made amends, establishing a friendship of the sorts, and things between them have shifted to say the least, Eren can't say that he doesn't enjoy watching Mikasa fret.

The first time he notices it, he thinks it's just because of her pride. After months of being aggressive towards him, of course she's a bit hesitant at being amicable. She moves around him hesitantly, almost like a cat, coming around randomly, sometimes more than others, but it's always with a level of hesitancy behind it. It's then he hears her stutter for the first time, her words lacking their usual confidence, as she shyly stalks around him while he makes dinner until she musters up the courage to ask to help him.

Eventually, as time goes on, Eren finds that he enjoys her company. For one, Mikasa is funny (to his great surprise) and someone he finds easy to talk to, the two of them having a lot more in common than he would have ever expected. They can spend hours talking about nonsense, ranging from the shows they watch to their favorite foods, the two of them having very passionate opinions on food. h

There's also the reason that it's Mikasa, and well, she's an objectively attractive girl, something he's known since the first day he met her. And even though he tries hard to keep those thoughts locked tightly away, he can't deny that sometimes they resurface, and he finds himself staring a little harder than he'd like to admit.

He would be foolish to deny her other worldly attractiveness, and sometimes he hates that he feels a little smug, a little bit too satisfied, the way he enjoys that he’s the only one who’s constantly around her. While he’s had enough insults thrown at it him to last a lifetime, and reached levels of anger he’d like to never reach again, he also gets glimpses of her at every hour of the day, which as much as he hates to admit, makes up for it somehow.

Pretty, pretty Mikasa, with her perfectly picked outfits, not a hair out of place, and at night who parades around in her silken pajamas, something Eren’s found himself growing fond of. Every night waiting for her to trail into the living room or kitchen, so he can get his one quick glimpse, the moment he allows himself to let his thoughts run rampant before he tucks them back away.

Through his observations, when he’s not just ogling her, he also notices the way, at times, she randomly shuts down, her face scrunching up, Mikasa sometimes running off to her room suddenly at the mention of certain things, if she suddenly feels embarrassed, or if Eren accidentally lets his touch linger for too long for reasons at the time Eren couldn't quite pinpoint.

Sometimes, he thinks she may have noticed his staring, in the way that she’ll get shy if she catches him looking too long, her face flushing red at the sudden contact. But Eren is almost certain though, that she pays attention, taking note of what exactly he's staring at.

Because one day, when Mikasa somehow convinced him to share shots of soju with her, leaving Eren more loose and lax than he ever liked to be, it was then that she takes his wavering glances into consideration.

There's an almost empty glass bottle of peach soju between them sitting on her coffee table, the two of them sitting on the floor in front of it in her living room. The TV is playing some random romcom Mikasa somehow convinced him to watch, but if Eren's being honest, he hasn't been paying attention since the second shot she made him take, too busy allowing his mind to venture elsewhere—Mikasa. He finds himself trying not to stare, but he's sure his eyes keep drifting back towards her, fitted in her black silken pajamas, hair pulled back with a pink velvet headband—she's cute, he thinks—his hand resting on his head shifting in her direction, almost like a gravitational pull.

"Eren," Mikasa says, snapping him out of his thoughts. "You okay?" She asks, stiffling a laugh. "You've been staring for a minute now."

"Oh," he says, trying not to show any signs of embarassment. "I was just thinking, I guess."

"Are you a lightweight?" She asks teasingly, taking note of how his eyelids look heavy and his face a bit flushed. "I think you're way too big to be a lightweight, Eren."

"'m not a lightweight, just tired," he says trying to make excuses.

She quirks her brow, clearly not believing his lie. "Well, either way, you're staring into space. Are you staring at the wall or something?"

And maybe it was because of his lack of a filter due to the alcohol; he simply shrugs, casually replying: "Oh, I was looking at your pajamas—you never wear black ones like that—thought they looked nice," too busy in his own head to notice the redness that flashes across Mikasa's face before she whipped her head in the other direction, resuming her attention to the movie.

It's after this that Eren notices the usual colorful and pastel pajamas are traded out for an array of darker ones. At first, it's subtle, almost to where he doesn't notice, but then it becomes more apparent, to the point where he's almost certain she's seeking out his glances, lingering around just a little longer, wearing the ones that are just a little tighter, just a little shorter.

And Eren certainly doesn’t mind, but he isn’t sure if it’s because the attraction he has for her is a mutual thing, or if Mikasa just enjoys his attention, but knowing her, he’s almost positive it’s probably the latter, Mikasa always one to enjoy riling him up, and apparently now, in other ways, sincethey’re amicable.

But if it’s attention that she wants, then Eren doesn’t mind giving it to her—especially since it doesn’t seem all that surprising given her bratty nature—so he does exactly that.

Eren goes about his normal day, Mikasa for once, opting to stay home, locking herself in her room, with claims of a headache, not wanting to be bothered. He takes out Caro, runs a few errands, and even goes for a run, knowing eventually she’ll stumble into him at some point, as she always does.

The day transitions into evening, still no signs of Mikasa, which surprises him given she normally comes out to at least make dinner, but even after 8:00, once Eren’s finished making dinner and even cleaning up, there’s still no sign of her.

He takes this as a sign to go check on her, even bothering to bring her a bowl of ziti, her—their—favorite, assuming she hasn’t eaten since he has yet to see her step out of her room all day.

Eren knocks on her door, waiting for a response. He can hear the shuffling of her feet behind the door, and he’s certain he even hears Caro bark at some point, realizing that’s where she disappeared to a while ago. Finally after a few minutes, the door swings open, the sight of Mikasa taught in a black satin robe, her hair messily tied into a bun on the top of her head, and her face, usually glowy, looks tired and almost a little as if she’s visibly in pain.

“Hey…” Eren starts, taking her in. Her satin robe leaves little to the imagination, Eren’s eyes trail down longer than he normally would’ve in such close proximity to her, but Mikasa’s clearly too distraught to notice. His mind ventures to the place of what exactly she has beneath it, before he remembers why he came to her room in the first place, snapping himself out of his thoughts. “Haven’t seen you all day, brought you dinner—figured you hadn’t eaten,” he continues, nodding towards the plate in his hand.

Mikasa opens the door wider, gesturing for him to come inside, “Sorry, I haven’t been feeling all that great,” she replies quietly. Eren takes note of her dark room, save for one tiny light in the opposite corner, Caro sits at the foot of her bed, her head perching up at the sight of Eren. Mikasa resumes her place on her bed, Eren placing her plate on her desk before leaning against the wall. “Thanks for the food, I haven’t even gotten the chance to leave my room today; my migraine’s barely started to let up just now,” she says motioning towards the bed. “Caro’s kept me company for the last few hours though,” she adds, a small smile on her face.

“I thought you just had a headache?” His brows furrow, a bit of guilt starting to fill within him, knowing he would’ve asked if she needed anything earlier had he know it was that bad.

“Headache, migraine—most people just think they’re the same anyways,” she shrugs. “I don’t get them often and they’re not that bad, just have to sleep it off usually.”

“Are you feeling better now at least?”

“I am, but I should probably eat, I haven’t eaten all day, so thank you,” she replies before getting up to grab the plate he made her, her face lights up when she notices he made ziti. “You made baked ziti,” she exclaims, before taking a bite, humming in delight.

“Mhmm,” he hums in agreeance, eyeing her. Pretty, pretty Mikasa, with her sweet expressions, her out of this world beauty, and her silly little pajamas that always drive him insane. He watches as she eats her meal, too busy enjoying to notice his staring at first until she catches his gaze.

“Is something wrong?” She asks. “You’re staring.”

Eren gives her one over before he shrugs, standing up to get up to leave. “Nothing’s wrong, just looking. But feel better, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Oh, okay. Well goodnight, thanks again for the food and stuff,” she replies meekly.

He walks towards the door opening it, turning back one more time before he leaves. “Oh and I like the robe, it’s cute. You should wear it more—especially like all the other black ones.”

Eren doesn’t have to turn to face her to know that her face is red, clearly knowing her little ruse is up.

[enough-spider-noir-stuff]

so what i've gathered is aroace spider noir. hell yeah

[mad-c1oud]

hmmmmmm guapotrio mmmmmmh

[animnightmare]

I want a romance with somone who sacrifices everything and I think at this point I'll have to settle for being that person myself.

[sleepytyrtle]

Ninjago fans, please see my vision!

After the Colossi crushes the Bounty, Lloyd is left to mourn his fallen brothers.

This song is him in that moment.

Hurt and grieving, curled up in the wreckage of the Bounty, he's so close to giving up. Harumi and his father won. His brothers are dead. He's powerless and unable to protect the people of Ninjago.

It's over.

Then he hears a little voice in the back of his mind. No, not just a voice. Voices. And they sound so much like his brothers.

"You may be lost, hope may feel gone, but don't give up."

"You got this Lloyd!"

"Yeah! A ninja never quits!"

"You can do it buddy! Do the next right thing."

Tears trail down his cheeks, grief tearing at his heart, but he feels a new conviction settle alongside it. Despite this, it is difficult to stand.

His limbs tremble and it takes everything in him not to fall back down. He can't bear thinking any further than this moment and trying to stand. If he thinks of his brothers, of the city, of his father, he knows he won't be able to move ahead.

It's not easy, but, somehow, Lloyd finds the strength to stand. "Do the next right thing." Lloyd says to himself as he takes a step forwards.

Wood creaks beneath his feet bringing with it unbidden memories that he has to forcefully shove aside. He can't. He can't think of it. Of them. He can't bear to think of anything other then moving right now.

"Do the next right thing."

He repeats this like a mantra as he leaves the wreckage of his family and heart behind. He walks, and walks, and walks, watching as the sun slowly begins to rise over Ninjago city, chasing the night away.

It hits him then that this is the beginning of a new day. A new beginning without his brothers and the rise of his father. Nothing will ever be the same again.

It nearly breaks him, nearly sends him back to his knees and that darkness that lurks just beneath the surface of his psyche. Then he hears his brothers voices again.

He takes a breath, tears still falling. The grief is as strong as ever, but he still has things to do. He has to find his sister and his mother. He has to find a way to defeat Harumi and his father. He doesn't know where to go or how to start, but, he'll choose to listen to those voices, his brothers, and do the next right thing.

[volivolition]

Is the Wip game finished? Can I still ask for stuff? If I still can, can I get a snippet from the one that give me the most rot (meet the parts)? If no, then I'm just swinging by to say hi how are you doing? <3

HI RED!! thank you for swinging by, im doing better than earlier!! my ear is getting better and im eating pizza :]!

okay so TECHNICALLY it's no longer wednesday, but i LOVE spoiling my fics so of COURSE you can have a snippet from Meet the Parts hkjh <33 you are always free to ask anytime, i will always be happy to share bits of my stories <3 AND SINCE THERE'S NO RULES I CAN SHARE MORE THAN THREE LINES!! here's like, a whole React Speed thing i just wrote :]

LOGIC – Along with Coach and Sparks – Flighty and Fingers too, I suppose – they're why you have trouble sitting still for long periods of time. The attention deficiency disorder... Or are they exacerbated by it? I still haven't figured out which is the cause and which is the effect...

REACTION SPEED – Point is, we got zoomies! Can't sit still. Always more to do, more to see, more to say.

YOU – "Are you why my leg is always-"

REACTION SPEED – Bouncing, yep! Fingers tapping, hands flapping, feet moving, words flying- hey, if you had wings like me, we'd never be touching ground.

YOU – "You have wings?"

KIM KITSURAGI – He jots this down with an interested hum.

REACTION SPEED – Yes! Books, what- which animal–

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] – You have the hovering wing type of trochilidae – hummingbirds, colloquially – with their ability to rotate their wingspan at the shoulder and elbow joints to create maximum lift. However, though you exhibit some iridescent feathers associated with the birds, your wings also connect to membranes, which share the Voronoi tessellation of the species anisoptera, the common dragonfly.

REACTION SPEED - Yeah, exactly! I'm a hummingbird and a dragonfly. Both of 'em. :)

[freedomarrow]

Succession [drabble]

There was a time when the banner of Daein fluttered in the winds, carried both by the harsh, unforgiving gales that called his homeland their own, and the proud wings of Daein’s Dracoknights as they looked to the horizon from on high, while the cavalry and infantry below marched in perfect synchronization and harmony — ready for battle, for glory, for victory and death, all in service of their country.

Leonardo only ever saw it once; when he was nine, his father took him to show him his destiny. He was a noble, after all — one obligated and expected to give it his all for the good of the motherland, and he was being prepared for this role since his earliest days. He saw it all… The flags and banners, carrying the name and pride of his country. The black armor on every knight, glistening in the sun. The swords and spears prepared, sharpened, polished, ready to fight for that which must be defended. The majestic wyverns, floating in the air above him, as though the wind itself, too, was at Daein’s command. Father’s horse, Goldmane, with whom he loved to play and with whom he learned to ride already as a little boy, dressed in the beautiful garments befitting the mount of His Majesty’s handpicked paladin.

Only once did he have a chance to witness it, but on an impressionable boy, aware that this was his future, it left a mark never to be forgotten.

Four years later, the Mad King summoned his army to war. A year still passed and it was gone.

Scattered on the winds, lost in the fields of Crimea’s righteous blades as they protected the freedom they deserved. Lost in the name of, as he would later learn, nothing, for they and their valiance were used in the name of madness and greed, little more. Swords broken, shields shattered, his father and Goldmane, too, lost on some battlefield or other, no longer important and relevant to anyone. It was as though they never mattered to begin with.

History would only ever remember them as villains, invaders, those who trampled upon the rights of others. Yes, they too left behind grieving wives, orphaned children and a shattered nation — but those do not matter, do they. Who cares about the bad guys, after all. And it was a reality that Leonardo found he had simply resigned himself to.

It is not as though he ever expected or demanded apologies, sympathy and compassion from others, but perhaps somewhere deep down, it hurt to know that he did not even have the right. He never allowed himself to think even that much, though. It was not until after the Dawn Brigade became a cornerstone of the newly reborn Daein army and he truly began to reclaim the value of his life that he forgot existed, that he finally began to let his thoughts give voice to his grievances and frustrations — and questions on what comes next, now that he knows the “next” will, indeed, have a chance to happen.

What is the point of glory if it only brings ruin? What is the point of reaching for the skies if it only leads you to crash to the ground?

Today, a decorative dagger with the family crest on its hilt rests in a drawer in his dorm room, seen by few, but never forgotten. It is the main keepsake he still owns - Leonardo has preserved little else of his past life. Family riches and belongings were, naturally, stolen by the Begnion army, and though some of it — as well as the family mansion — was regained via reparations, he donated a lot of the former to the Daein army reconstruction effort and the latter… is still a little difficult to think about. Perhaps he will sell it and settle down elsewhere, where ghosts of the past will not plague his thoughts. Or maybe he will eventually find it in him to return to them like a good son, a good brother, a good young master.

When he is certain no one would come to visit or bother him, he will sometimes take the dagger out of the drawer and simply look at it for a while in silence, wishing his father would answer his questions. His fingers will gently rub against the high quality silver blade, and he will close his eyes and listen, hoping to hear his voice, heed his advice — only to then realize that he was deluding himself, and whatever words he heard were actually his own.

In the end, however, he had no right to expect anything else. Many perished, young and old alike,

but it is especially many of the former who remain. The nobility, experience, tradition, foundations — all of that, first and foremost, was swept away during those years of tragedy. (And it makes sense, from the war point of view. That, too, is how you kill a nation.) 

(This is what they deserved.)

(Is this what they deserved?)

What remains are those who had seen either too many winters to be called to arms, or too few — provided they made it through said winters to begin with, which especially during the occupation was not a given — and who escaped the work camps, the fate of collateral damage, and the malice of a bored enemy soldier to whom the people of Daein were equal to livestock. As well as a couple lucky people like himself, who fought and made it out. It is their task, now — these children, ready or not, are the people who will shape Daein’s future.

The thought that this is up to the likes of him is sobering and terrifying — and refreshing, too, in a way. They get to decide, now. They can choose what they do, how they fight and who they hate.

Today, he studies and trains for the future in a foreign land far away from home, a land where the fields were not burned, schools were not destroyed, and a place where the less fortunate can come to still continue hoping for a future. Fate saw it fit to place him here and fill his new world with adventures, missions and new companions; one of whom happens to be a gentle, serene mare, reminiscent of the one that accompanied his happiest days - the main difference being the moonlit color of her mane and tail, rather than the suntouched tone that Goldmane sported. In her honor, Leonardo named his new friend Silvermane.

She was somewhat neglected and not in the best of conditions when he first brought her to the monastery. Small wonder, what with her having been wrestled from the hands of brigands, who cared nothing about her health and well-being and treated her as little more than another trophy. When no owner came forward, Leonardo volunteered to take care of her, having sensed the first thread of connection forming between him and the horse from the start. He has taken care of her ever since — feeding her properly once again, turning her shaggy coat beautiful and glistening, and healing her emotional wounds that she could not speak of, but sustained nevertheless. He restored her glory and pride by reminding her that she matters, and made it so that she once again walked with her head held high.

And yet, for a long time, he failed to realize just why and how it was so important for him as well, until Silvermane himself explained to him in her own, wordless way, that she was not the only one being healed through this process. For it was when she first placed her forehead against his chest in a silent request for an embrace, that he made the realization — 

he looked in her eyes, and he saw himself, with his father and brother standing behind him, their hands on his shoulders, smiling with pride and faith.

And today, months later, it is as he sits atop her back, with Lughnasadh in one hand and the reins in the other, that he finds himself looking up to the sky while the gentle wind of Fódlan’s plains ruffles his hair, and he smiles lightly.

I will keep going, always and forever, and so will Daein along with me.

———

Leonardo has mastered: Bow Knight.