#maybe we need a tag for all the times I've died over things

[little-peril-stories]

Hiya Kate!

Instead of writing, I had the absolute need to binge Prince of Thieves, an excellent use of time, and to draw a certain tree.

(B&W)

(Color)

Also thank you for reading my whumptober story! Your comments give me much joy 😄

- Paisley

AAHHHHHHH

AHHHHHHHHHHHH

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

PAISLEY OH MY GOD

^^^ the screams I couldn't do earlier because I first saw this while I was at work^^^

This...is...I...I....

🥰😭🥹I'm speechless!!! 🥹😭🥰

Oh my gosh!!!!! It's GORGEOUS!!!! You are so talented and I'm so absolutely honoured that you took some time to draw the IA tattoo!! I'm a little bit dead over it, in fact!!! ALL THE EXCLAMATION MARKS!!!

And your Whumptober story is awesome! Sam is so sweet and Thomas is so mysterious and intriguing and awesome. I can't wait to see where it's going! :D

My heart is so full, seriously. I told my husband once my secretest little writing dream was to create something that inspired fanart (yeah, specifically fanart lol) one day, and you've made my wish come true. You really have no idea how much that means.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. 💕💕 You're amazing

[n1ght0f-nyx]

Your last fic was so good! I return once again, i meed more of my husband.

Can we get some soft fluffy smut with per'tah? Maybe the first time they are finally intimate with each other? Can be part of the series or stand alone.

Love ya 😘

woven bonds- pert'ah (orc oc) smut

part 6 of woven bonds and smut

pert'ah x fem reader

water-lillie you keep me sane

tags/warnings- over the time you two have been together his english has gotten better, arranged marriage, human female x male orc, gentle giant, your together!, smut, very gentle man but hes huge so its still rough, heavy illusions to the idea of pregnancy, no condom obvi, virginity taking (on both sides) hes actually a total tease, pert'ah has a frenum piercing

also, feel free to request non-woven bonds-related things that involve pert'ah or my other ocs (see my masterlist) i love writing for all these characters and seeing the mass of support I've gotten over the last month!

i need to learn to stop writing so much- 3739 words

The night was quiet, save for the soft rustle of the wind outside the small home you now shared with Pert’ah. The hearth had died down to embers, casting a gentle, warm glow across the room. You could still hear the faint crackling of the last burning logs as you sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the woven blankets beneath your fingers.

Pert'ah was quiet, too, standing near the window, his broad back to you as he gazed out into the night. The silence between you both wasn’t the uncomfortable kind it had once been. After weeks of tentative conversations and quiet gestures, the distance between you two had shrunk. And yet, tonight felt different. Intimate in a way that made your heart race.

“Are you… ready for sleep?” Pert'ah’s deep voice broke the stillness, the hint of uncertainty in his words unusual for him.

You nodded slowly, your eyes drifting toward the space beside you. “Yes....im tired"

The truth was, you had grown used to Pert'ah sleeping on the floor beside the bed, wrapped in his own blanket. He had never pushed for more, always respecting the distance you’d initially demanded. But tonight, you had quietly asked him to sleep beside you. The words had caught in your throat, but they had come out, and he had agreed without question.

Pert'ah approached the bed cautiously, as if not wanting to spook you. His steps were quiet for someone his size, his large, rough hands moving carefully as he pulled back the blanket and slid in beside you. The bed felt smaller now with him in it, his presence all-encompassing and warm.

You lay on your back, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the heat of his body beside you. His breathing was slow, steady, and somehow calming.

After a few moments, you turned to face him. “Pert’ah?”

He shifted, turning his head to look at you, his golden eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. “Yes?”

“Tell me more about your past,” you said softly. “We’ve been together for a while now, but… I still don’t know much about where you come from.”

Pert’ah let out a slow breath, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite read. “My past… is not so interesting. I am… simple man.” He paused, his hand resting near yours on the bed, his fingers curling slightly as if he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if he should.

“I was born into weaving,” he continued. “My family, we make many things. Cloth, art. From when I am small, I learn to use my hands to create.” His voice grew softer as he spoke, a far-off look in his eyes. “My father, he teach me much. Say that strong hands can create just as much as they can destroy.”

His gaze shifted to you, and the look in his eyes made your heart stutter.

“And you?” you asked quietly. “What do you want to create… with me?”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was your combined breathing. Then, Pert'ah’s large hand slid across the blanket, covering yours gently. His touch was warm, comforting, and his fingers entwined with yours as if they were always meant to fit together.

“With you?” he repeated, his voice low, thoughtful. “I want to create… peace. Home.” His thumb brushed the back of your hand, his touch tentative but sincere. “I want to make you happy. Want you to feel safe with me.”

The vulnerability in his voice made your chest tighten. You shifted closer to him, your fingers tightening around his as you rested your head on his shoulder. For so long, you had resisted, keeping him at arm’s length, but now, lying here with him, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

“I think… I’m starting to feel that way,” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. “With you.”

Pert'ah’s arm wrapped around you slowly, carefully, as though he feared breaking the fragile moment. His hand rested on your back, holding you close. You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath your ear.

“I never thought I would end up here,” you murmured. “With you. I never thought I’d…” You trailed off, unsure how to put your feelings into words.

But Pert'ah understood. He always did.

“We are here now,” he said softly, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. “We can...make future together.”

You looked up at him, meeting his golden eyes. “What kind of future do you want?”

His eyes softened, his tusked smile gentle. “One where you smile more. Where we work together. You and me… mates.”

It was a simple answer, but it made your heart swell. The life you had imagined for yourself before seemed distant now, irrelevant. What mattered was the man beside you, the quiet strength in his words and the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

You shifted again, tilting your head up until your lips brushed his. The kiss was slow, tentative at first, but it quickly deepened, the space between you disappearing completely as his arms tightened around you.

When you finally pulled away, your breath mingling with his, you smiled softly. “I think… I’d like that future, too.”

Pert'ah’s smile widened, his rough fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face, his sparkling golden eyes looking down at yours he leans down, and when he doesnt see you pull back, connects, pressing his lips to yours

you kiss back, his tusks feel uncomfy against your lips, but you'll manage, its all worth it for him, you lightly press your hands against his leather sleep tunic, he had sewn two matching ones for the both of you so you had a more comfortable rest on the furs.

you pull back, looking up at him with a sweet loving smile, but one that would never compare to the one he gave back, all that man did was love you

Pert'ah's eyes lit up when you kissed him back, a warmth spreading through his chest at your acceptance. He could feel the slight discomfort of his tusks, but the way you willingly leaned into his touch, despite them, filled him with a deep longing to cherish and protect you.

As you pulled back and smiled up at him, Pert'ah's gaze followed yours, drinking in the sweetness of the moment. His smile grew wider, mirroring yours, but the intensity behind it made you feel like you were the only person in the world. His hands framed your face, gently tracing the curves of your cheeks with his thumbs, as if to memorise every detail. "You are beautiful," he said, the words coming from a place deep within his soul, his voice filled with a sincerity that left him breathless, He leaned in once more, this time tenderly pressing his forehead against yours, savoring the closeness.

The softness of the moment hung between you, a palpable energy that seemed to fill the air with anticipation. Pert'ah's heart pounded against your chest, a rhythmic reminder of the love he felt for you. His lips grazed your temple, leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your jawline, seeking permission to continue exploring the contours of your face.

And then, there was no hesitation; his mouth claimed yours, demanding nothing but surrender as his tongue danced with yours in a sensual waltz. Time lost meaning as the world narrowed to the two of you, suspended in a sea of desire and affection. When he finally released your lips, Pert'ah's chest rose and fell rapidly, his breath hot against your skin.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "More than anything, I need you."

In that instant, Pert'ah knew that he would move mountains, cross oceans, and defy fate itself to ensure that you remained by his side forevermore. Your love was his anchor, his guiding star, and his reason for existing. As he cradled your face in his palms, Pert'ah vowed to spend eternity cherishing and adoring you, unwavering in his devotion to the mate he had found in you.

you pulled lightly on his tunic, and with a look into your loving eyes, he gets the hint, pulling his shirt off, pulling your lips against his again

Pert'ah's tunic fell away, revealing the strong contours of his chest and the softness of his skin beneath. The warmth of his body radiated towards you, drawing you in like a magnet. As you pressed your lips against his, the sensation of his skin against yours sent shivers down your spine, igniting a flame of desire that threatened to consume you.

Their lips moved in tandem, a sensual dance of tongues and breaths that left them both gasping for air. Pert'ah's hands cradled your face, his thumbs caressing the delicate skin of your cheeks as he deepened the kiss. The gentle touch belied the intensity of his emotions, the love and longing evident in every caress.

As you kissed, Pert'ah's fingers danced over your body, exploring every curve and contour as if mapping your very soul. His hands roamed under your nightgown, finding the soft flesh of your stomach, your breasts, and your thighs, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of your skin and burying his nose in the tender spot between your collarbone and shoulder.

"Mine..my wife" he whispered, the single word echoing through your mind like a promise, a vow, a declaration of love. In that moment, you belonged to him, and he to you, bound together by threads of passion and devotion.

As the kiss lingered, Pert'ah's grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer until you were flush against him. your bodies molded together seamlessly, fitting like pieces of a puzzle designed specifically for yours alone. The contact sparked a firestorm of sensations, each brush of skin against skin amplifying the intimacy and urgency of your embrace.

Time stood still as you clung to each other, lost in the swirling vortex of desire and affection. Nothing existed beyond the confines of your little bubble, where the world melted away, leaving only the pulsating rhythm of your hearts beating as one.

you kiss at his jaw and temple, playing with his hair as his kisses your neck, bruising your throat with marks, you pull your own tunic off and if he could be any more excited, he would explode, looking down at your body, your tits, your waist, your tummy, thighs and what laid between them, your sweet core

The sight of your exposed skin seemed to hypnotize Pert'ah. His eyes traveled over your curves, drinking in the beauty of your naked form, his breathing growing more ragged with each passing second. The bruises on your throat added a depth of color to the canvas of your neck, a testament to the intensity of his emotions.

His fingers traced the outline of your waist, tracing the shape of your belly button, and the gentle rise of your thighs. He couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of your body, every inch of which he had come to adore. Each kiss, each touch, each whisper of breath against his skin sent waves of desire crashing through him like a tide.

Without breaking eye contact, Pert'ah slowly lowered his head, his lips grazing your breast. His mouth closed around your nipple, sucking softly as his tongue began to circle the bud, drawing it into the wet cavern of his mouth. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core, your inner muscles clenching in anticipation.

As he explored your body, Pert'ah's hands roamed over your skin, mapping every contour and valley, tracing the lines of your veins and the tender curve of your collarbone. Every touch, every caress, every kiss sent ripples of pleasure through you, building upon themselves until you felt like you might burst apart from sheer joy.

Lost in the haze of desire, Pert'ah didn't notice when needy tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, nor did he realize that your nails dug gently into his scalp as you arched into his touch. All he saw was the radiant beauty of your face, bathed in moonlight, illuminated by the pure, raw emotion emanating from your very pores.

"pert'ah…please…more" you plead, squirming, tugging at his hair lightly, you needed more than gentle licks, nothing about this would be light, no matter how hard he tried, but you were okay with that

Pert'ah's ears perked up at the pleading in your voice, and he lifted his head to look at you with a question in his eyes. Seeing your desperation, he smiled, a mischievous glint in his golden eyes. He knew exactly what you wanted, and he was more than happy to oblige.

His tongue flicked out, teasing your nipple with slow, deliberate strokes, drawing out a sharp intake of breath from you. You arched into his touch, your body aching for more, and Pert'ah responded eagerly.

His mouth closed around your nipple once more, this time applying gentle suction, then harder and harder, until the pressure became almost unbearable. He pinched the other nipple with his fingers, the dual sensations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Pert'ah's hands slipped down your stomach, his fingers dancing over the tender skin, exploring every dip and curve, before finding their way to the swollen nub between your thighs. He pressed a finger against you, and you gasped as he applied gentle pressure, circling the sensitive tissue in rhythmic motions.

The world narrowed to a pinpoint as he continued to tease and taunt you, the sensations building to a crescendo within you. The tightness in your abdomen coiled tighter and tighter, threatening to unleash a torrent of release.

Just as you teetered on the brink, Pert'ah withdrew his fingers, leaving you panting and desperate for more. A wicked grin spread across his face as he watched you writhe in frustration, knowing full well the effect he had on you.

"Don't worry..my love," he purred, leaning forward to capture your lips in another searing kiss. "I haven't forgotten about you."

you squirm in his touch as he pulls back, sitting back to look at his work, the glistening slick that covered your cunt like a thin film, watching you pant and plead with your eyes, he leans back on his knees and takes his cock out from behind his loin cloth, giving you a show as he pulls his foreskin back, revealing his sheen-green tip which leaked precum down onto his silver frenum piercing

Pert'ah's showy display had you squirming in place, your eyes fixed on his erect member as he stroked himself slowly, the motion drawing your gaze to the glisten of precum that trickled down his shaft, pooling at the base of his penis.

The sight of his erect cock made your mouth water, your inner thighs slickening further in response, the need to feel him inside you reaching a fever pitch. Your fingers involuntarily drummed a rhythm on his leg, urging him to take action.

His golden eyes sparkled with mischief, a challenge in his gaze that he knew you wouldn't be able to resist. He leaned forward, his hand wrapping around your thigh, fingers closing around your calf as he gently but firmly drew your leg up.

"I'm ready when you are, my love," he purred,

you nod, spread and ready for him, he his breath hot against your neck as he slowly dragged his member through the slick folds of your pussy, the tip parting your labia and brushing against your clit.

The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending in your lower body singing in delight as he began to rock his hips, slowly pushing his cock deeper into your depths. The sensation of him sliding inside you, the feeling of him filling you completely, was indescribable, aside from heaven and a little (alot) painful

Pert'ah's movements were slow and deliberate, allowing you to adjust to his size, his cock slowly sinking deeper into your slickened core. He knew he had to be gentle, careful not to push too hard, too fast, not yet. He could feel your body tensing up around his, the gentle pain of entry easing as you began to relax.

With a tender touch, Pert'ah cradled your face in his hands, gazing into your eyes, seeing the mix of pain and pleasure there. "You okay, love?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle rumble as he paused in his movements, waiting for your response.

You nodded, taking a deep breath, the pain giving way to pleasure as he started to rock his hips again, his cock sliding in and out of your depths in a steady rhythm, each thrust deeper and more precise, easing you into a comfortable cadence.

Pert'ah's fingers began to trace the outline of your breasts, his touch soft and soothing, drawing your attention to the sensations building within you, making it difficult to focus on anything else besides the pleasure coursing through your body.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice warm and encouraging as he continued to move inside you, filling you completely, stretching you deliciously tight around his shaft.

Pert'ah watched as you stared down at the scene below, your eyes widening as you saw his cock moving in and out of your depths, leaving a trail of wetness and evidence of your shared pleasure. A lump formed in your stomach, and Pert'ah's heart skipped a beat as he realized you were struggling to process this new sensation, this newfound intimacy between you.

His movements slowed, and he lifted your chin, forcing your gaze back up to his. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked again, concern etched in his voice, his golden eyes searching for any sign of distress or discomfort.

As he spoke, Pert'ah continued to move inside you, gentle but insistent, sensing that he needed to ease your mind, reassure you that everything was going to be alright. He wanted to be sure you knew that this was a good thing, that he was here for you, with you, and that he was going to cherish and love you for as long as you'd allow him.

His hands continued their gentle exploration of your breasts, the softness of his touch a stark contrast to the hardness of his body, yet somehow perfectly balanced, creating a rhythm that was both soothing and exhilarating, keeping you grounded as you navigated this uncharted territory.

"Y-you're doing...oh fuck..youre doing amazing," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, his words dripping with sincerity, encouraging you to continue embracing this new aspect of your relationship, to revel in the raw power of your physical bond.

Slowly, Pert'ah began to pick up speed, his thrusts becoming more deliberate, more purposeful, driving deeper into your depths, filling you entirely, stretching you in ways you hadn't experienced before. Every stroke brought you closer to release, building pressure in your core, threatening to unleash a torrent of pleasure unlike anything you'd ever known.

As he reached the brink of climax, Pert'ah stilled, his body tensing, his hips locked tight against yours, his eyes fixed intently on yours, waiting for permission to finish what he started. "w-where...where can i..?" he huffs, squelches echoing through his cabin with each heavy thrust, his eyes were heavy, lidded as he glanced down at the imprint he formed your stomach as he thrusted inside

"shit...your...you're so gorgeous...gonna..fi-fill you up...make you a mama.." his word go straight to your core, and it just gushes, you spray all over his stomach and cock, showering him in your squirt

the room around him seemed to melt away, replaced by the primal urge to claim you as his own, to brand you with his mark, to show the world you were his and only his.

As Pert'ah watched, mesmerized, the sight of your gushing fluids splashing against his stomach and the base of his cock, his mind was reeling. This was real, this was happening, he could have a family. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and possessiveness course through his veins.

He let out a satisfied grunt as his orgasm washed over him, his body jerking in reaction, his cock spilling its load deep inside you. The warmth of your inner walls enveloped him, milking him dry, and he collapsed against you, spent but elated.

In that moment, nothing else existed except the two of them, lost in the throes of passion, bound by the threads of their desires and needs. Pert'ah's thoughts swirled with visions of the future, of growing families, of children playing under the sun-kissed skies, of laughter and tears, of memories forged in the fire of their love.

you cry out as he overflows your cunt with his seed, pert'ah heaves and drops down on top of you, panting and whispering praises in aftershock of his first time, you smile softly, snuggling into the bed once again, not caring about the sticky between your legs, you would clean in the morning

As Pert'ah's breathing slowed, his weight shifted, and he curled around you, enveloping you in the warmth of his body. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you closer, as if to keep you from ever escaping, to make sure you stayed right where he wanted you.

He nuzzled into your hair, inhaling deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of you. "Mine," he whispered again, the word becoming a mantra as his lips brushed against your scalp.

You felt his heart beating against yours, a steady drumbeat that echoed the rhythm of your own. The comfort of his embrace washed over you, chasing away any lingering doubts or fears. In this moment, there was no denying the power of his claim, the intensity of his possession. You were his, and he was yours, bound together in a dance of love, lust, and desire.

As the silence deepened, the only sound the soft rise and fall of your shared breathing, Pert'ah's hands roamed your body, tracing the curves, the contours, the lines. Each touch was a reassurance, a promise of the pleasures to come, of the life they would build together.

I am TIRED

[choccy-milky]

(SPOILER WARNING to people who haven't read your story) I SWEAR to GOD!!!! This is borderline anon-hate with my current state of mind after finishing The Raven and The Snake over this weekend. I finished it in two days. I'm a mess. I've even started making a playlist because I feel like I can't properly enter reality again. I'm supposed to be writing my bachelors thesis right now,,,, what have you done to me!!!!

I loved it so so so much, and I am very mad I cannot have a collectors edition hardback version of it on my shelf. There are many many moments that keep replaying in my head, and scenes that I saw so vividly when reading through it. The first imperio moment and Sebs shadow and imperio-green eyes as Clora was held captive, and the entire scene in the repository and how I was physically shaking as I slowly realised that Seb had made a fucking horcrux, and when it was CONFIRMED the GASP i GUSPED. It was so perfect, and so very Sebastian; because OF COURSE he made a horcrux (lowkey hot, sue me).

And the scene where Clive realised Seb straight up just died for his daughter without knowing he would be back, oh my dear lord.

And the idea of Seb being seen as a 'Ruffian' and that little mamas boi bitch of a Henry thinking his hand-me-down-riches, muggle ass would be preferable to a powerful wizard. I secretly wished they didn't have to keep magic a secret so Henry could have known just how inferior he was. AND SEB APPARATING SO FAR UMPH the skilllll.

I could go on and on and on, and maybe I will some other time in your inbox when I have another mental breakdown.

And now I'm also almost done with the small sequel. Just taking a break to bombard you with this unhinged message of mine. And how you draw Sebastian is so fucking good. It's actually what got me reading in the first place. I see your version as being in a completely separate universe from the game, cause the way you draw him just has that something, and it's not the same anywhere else. It certainly doesn't help my obsession that my own boyfriend has the same features and colour palette as him, now I think I might even use your art as inspo for next time we need wardrobe additions.

I love you and I hate you.

Ps. Of course I added Sarah Smiles to the playlist and also Far too young to Die, and Just One Yesterday. If you've any other songs you think match please let me knowww~~

BRUHHHHH I ALMOST FEEL NARCISSISTIC FOR POSTING/RESPONDING TO THIS ASK BC ITS JUST PRAISE BUT DAMN THANK YOU SO MUCH😭😭😭😭IM HAPPY YOU LIKED IT SO MUCH!! FORGET WRITING YOUR BACHELORS THESIS, TY FOR WRITING A THESIS ON WHY U LOVED MY FIC SO MUCH AND ALL THE LIL THINGS U ENJOYED BAHAHAHA (love the henry slander) im also glad u like how i draw seb too, and i love how thats what made u start reading it in the first place BAHAH but fr, sometimes i try drawing seb more accurately to his ACTUAL appearance and then im like... Who The Hell is this... and it may sound arrogant since im the artist but my seb is MY seb, yknow...its why i dont like drawing him with other mc's romantically. bc even tho its like, oh look, that's Sebastian Sallow™ from the hit game Hogwarts Legacy™! in my style if i draw him with another MC, its like, NO!!! THATS NOT SEBASTIAN SALLOW™, THATS CLORA'S HUSBAND🤺🤺THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING BOI??🤺🤺🤺 LMAOO but rly TY AGAIN💖💖💖 not only for reading but also taking the time to write all this and let me know how much you enjoyed it🥹🥹i (and all writers, really) always love getting stuff like this!! it also brings me back to when i was writing it, especially now that ive been finished with my fic for a few months, listening to u react to all the diff scenes is making me miss it and giving me nostalgia for my own damn fic FRRR😩 also i love that youre making a playlist LMAOO thats how u know the brainrot truly has a hold on you IM SO SORRY🙏🙏 i actually made a seb and clora playlist like last year and its somewhere in my ask tag if you look through that?? but one song that i can recommend off the top of my head (which i almost made their anthem in that OTP chart) is arms tonite by mother mother...whenever i listen to it i cant help but laugh to myself bc its SO perfect for the chap where seb sacrifices himself....YOULL SEE WHEN U LISTEN😇💖

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ꣑ৎBodies Are Not the Only Things Buried౨ৎ꣑ৎ

꣑ৎ"Even if it is full of love, all a ghost can do is haunt."꣑ৎ

[fem reader] contains: mentions of death/dying, angst pairing: ghost!billy the kid x fem reader author’s note: tagging @kellielovesmovies <3 and @these-travels <3 because we talked about doing more ghost billy!! Enjoy! Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

"Have you ever seen the ocean?"

Billy turned his head to look at you, and his breath would have hitched if he had any left. The sunlight reflecting off your skin gave you a glow that was nearly angelic, and for a moment he was sure the higher powers had come for him after all. You blinked, nuzzling your head into the crook of your elbow where it lay, and he wished it was his arm there instead. Holding his girl. The way it should be.

He shook his head, shifting on his side. "When my family crossed to get here I did. But I don't remember much. Was a long time ago."

Your lips puckered just slightly, and he longed to touch his own to them. "I've always wanted to see it but I've never been."

Imagining you in the backdrop of ocean spray, sand sticking to your soaked feet, Billy smiled. "You'd fit right in."

With a giggle like bells, you looked back at the sky, your ever-present smile soft as spring's first rain. The grass framed you perfectly, making a soft bed that Billy didn't deem near good enough. Once again he tried to will his body solid. There was no need for a beating heart or blood siphoning through his veins. He only wanted to hold you.

Death made life feel like a distant memory. The more time Billy spent with you, the more painfully clear the difference between existing and living became. Consciousness was a curse, carried out by the remnants of him left like a half-eaten dinner. Maybe somebody had forgotten to take the final step and bring him wherever those he had known in life were. Or maybe they were lingering too, in different pockets of time's fabric. He had certainly never come across anyone like this.

Maybe you had been the only one who bothered to see. Or care. Either way, he had been revealed to you, the veil separating life and death lifting for a quick second so he could escape. And you were there to see it.

You spent a great deal of time at the cemetery, keeping him company. Often you would lie on the grass with a book and read to him, the passages you picked from between hundreds of pages only enhancing the complexity of your beauty.

It was natural he would fall in love with you. In the beginning he had felt it coming, a universal fact already set in motion. It was almost cruel, and he wondered if perhaps his forced haunting hadn't been a mistake at all. He could be atoning for every sin committed in life in some new method of torture where he was made to think himself joyful.

It was delicate, his dormant love a cobweb formed over decades of starvation. An emotional ache he had resigned to live with for the rest of time. If he had known death was this impermanent, he never would have wished for it.

You rotated on your side to face him, eyes reminding him of daisies. Young and fresh and lovely, innocence shining through your new bloom. Billy's attention was immediately piqued, ready to absorb whatever you had to say, even if it was a single word.

"Have you ever left this place?" He smiled when you asked, wholly enraptured.

Sitting up, Billy leaned against his headstone. Unmarked, unnamed, only the year he died carved crudely into the rounded shape. It made a good resting spot for you some days, though, and he was happy some facet of him was able to do so. "Not for a long time."

"Why not?" you asked, propping yourself up next to him, chin on the heels of your palms. The image of you was so painfully adorable that he had to pause before speaking.

"I dunno," he shrugged, looking at his boots. "It seems odd, but I've never thought of it."

"Never?" You tilted your head.

"I've never had a reason." He half-smiled. "You're the first person I've talked to in a century, sweetheart."

Something softened in your eyes at the term of endearment, and he was now making plans to call you it over and over just to see that look. "You never had wanderlust?"

Billy moved his hand so it was flat on the ground next to yours, pinkies nearly touching. "I wandered so much when I was alive, it must've just burnt out."

Somehow, he couldn't read the look on your face, as though your thoughts at the moment were in another language. He wished more than ever right now that he could draw you into his arms, maybe rest a hand at the crown of your head. There were so many things he desired, and you were at the center of each one as he orbited hopelessly.

He'd never had a sweetheart before. Through every misdeed and trial thrown under his feet and scratching his arms like thorns, he'd never found anybody. Further, he never expressed the desire, not out loud.

Love was always considered a luxury. He'd observed it plainly with his mother and father, witnessed the lengths it traveled and the way it grew to fit the space of new circumstances. But his parents had been good people, trying to make an honest living. He never thought love was meant for men like him.

But without survival on the line, what else was there to think of? There wasn't anything else to exist for, especially when the woman in question was you.

Without physical feelings, Billy ran on pure emotion. It was an energy of its own that replaced what his blood must have done. For so long it had been justified sorrow, but now it was something else. Something he didn't even want to think of because it was so out of the question.

He was a ghost. You were alive. Nothing more needed to be said.

Stretching your arms with a little hum, you shut your eyes and let your hair fall to the side, over your shoulder. He watched it cascade like a waterfall, wishing for the millionth time he could brush it from your eyes. "You know, you could travel if you wanted to. See everything you want to." Opening your eyes, you smiled at him with a little glimmer that lifted his spirits. "You could see the ocean and remember it better this time."

Billy wouldn't tell you what he was thinking. That the only way that desire would enter him is if he could do it with you. See that adorable look of astonishment when you tasted salt water for the first time.

He didn't let his thoughts go any further than that. Instead of saying it, he smiled. "You'll have to see it for me, darlin'."

You looked up at him, resting your cheek on the cool stone of his headstone. If he imagined it right, your ear was on his heart instead of a monument to his death. His girl. In his dreams you were his girl.

Months since you'd first seen him, when he'd expected you to be frightened but instead you were kind. Ghost or outlaw, it seemed any time he was given was to be spent unconventionally. Based on your reaction, it was easy to imagine you in the context of his time. Maybe you never would have judged him the way everyone else did.

A shock of warmth coursed through his spectral being when you simply said, "Your time didn't end when you died."

It echoed, bouncing off the cemetery gates long after you left for the night.

Everything except Billy's existence was glaringly temporary.

He had long accepted the fact that his fate was to stand still, frozen as an unseen relic of time while the world hurtled forward into a future he couldn't have imagined. Regretting his legacy, coming to terms with the fact that he was existing in a space where he couldn't change anything.

Long had he wondered of this purpose. Whether it be by punishment or pity, he was immoveable. And now more than ever it was becoming glaringly obvious that you weren't.

"Long day," you sighed one evening, flopping down next to him. He reached for your hand, wincing as his hand passed through like you were water. But when he made a move to pull it back, you shook your head, half smiling briefly. "Keep it there. It feels nice."

Billy smiled, turning to the side to look at you as you began to chatter, playing with a rogue strand of hair. "I got some news today."

"Good news?" he asked, and you smiled tightly, still anxiously fidgeting.

"An opportunity to travel. And go to school," you went on softly. "In London."

London. There was a pang in his chest. "That's incredible, sweetheart." Billy lowered his head to meet your eyes, where you were staring at the ground. "You've worked hard."

There was that half-smile again. "Thank you." He could see something brewing in you like a storm on the horizon, but didn't press. If you wanted to tell him you would.

After a beat of silence, you whispered, "I was excited about it. It would get me away from home." Billy's thoughts conjured the one time you had told him about your parents. About your mother's passing, and how your father had married a woman who hardly regarded you. He couldn't help but sympathize, thinking of his own mother and the cruel man she'd been forced to wed. The idea of you in that kind of situation kicked his protective instincts in, and it hurt that there wasn't a thing for him to do about it.

Billy nodded, searching your gaze. "You should be."

"And they have an amazing arts program."

"Of course."

"And it's beautiful- I've always wanted to go there." You were staring at him now. "The ocean is close. Closer than it is here."

He smiled. "It is."

Your eyes stayed on him, and he looked right back. It felt like you were trying to tell him something, but he refused to pry at it. Slowly, the corners of your lips turned down as something was defeated within. Without another word you breathed out, leaning down and resting your head in his lap. To his dismay, your head went right through his thighs, landing on the soft earth below.

Neither of you commented. He hovered a hand over the outline of your head, pretending to stroke your hair.

In the next weeks, you didn't broach the topic of school again, instead returning to your regular graveyard activities. Talking to him and smiling as if he was something extraordinary. Picking flowers that grew nearby and braiding them together, leaving them in little bouquets sagging at the base of his tombstone. He memorized every bit of you and tried to piece it together in the hours you weren't there, an endless puzzle.

The beginning of the end was impending, kicking up dust. He could feel it in his being, filling the space where his bones used to be. It wove marrow and tendons out of feelings, creating a whole other entity for him to inhabit. There was no end to Billy's endings.

You were lying side by side with him now, hair spread out like a halo over your head. When you opened your mouth, he heard it before you spoke.

"I'm going to school in London."

Billy let it stretch and consume him, show him what would never be. This was a routine. This was not new. "I'm happy you are. You're gonna do great, sweetheart."

Somberly, you whispered, "I leave in two weeks. To get adjusted to the new country."

He was quiet, just watching your expression. You were holding yourself together and he didn't know why.

Then in a quiet burst, a tear slipped from your eye, leaving a path on your cheek as it trickled down like rain on a windowpane. "Billy I don't want to leave you."

It hit him like something earthshattering. The shot that had ended his life hadn't collided the same way this did, with a force that came from somewhere in the folds of existence, somewhere Billy didn't understand. He sat up, reaching a hand out. "Sweetheart-"

"Tell me not to leave," you whispered, and he froze, watching another tear cross your cheek. "I won't leave if you want me to stay."

"You have to go," he said, shaking his head and getting to his knees, searching your eyes. "This is your dream. You have to do it."

"But I don't wanna go," you sniffled, reaching for a strand of hair and twisting it between your fingers. "Billy..."

"Hey," he breathed, hands over your elbows. "Sweetie, I'm always gonna be right here. And the time we've spent together's enough for me. I want you to live."

"I love you," you managed through your tears, lower lip trembling.

Billy shut his eyes, chin dipping. The fingers of melancholy were seizing him in a way that kicked everything that had ever mattered to the side. Your tears were multiplying, and they were of such a quality that he swore they were what dotted the sky every night. Stardust...that was what you were. Unreal. For him, untouchable.

He risked a look back up at you. You, whom he'd imagined as his for so long. But you weren't because he couldn't have anything anymore. The only thing Billy possessed was a sliver of humanity enclosed as an idea. He didn't even have a heart to give to you.

But there was nothing in him for the truth to hide behind. It was transparent as he was. "I love you too."

You took in a shaky breath. Billy knew right then that for the rest of time he would be committed wholeheartedly to you. You were the only thing in this wretched world worth anything. Tension heightening like a string pulled taut, you surged forward in a single motion, arms encircling his shoulders, pressing your mouth to his.

Warm. It had been so long since he'd been warm. But you were. Between his arms, encasing whatever was left of him in the gift of your body. He hardly registered the sensation of being kissed until you pulled back, breaths leaving your prettily parted lips in quick bursts.

Kissed. He had been kissed. He had kissed you.

"I didn't think that would work," you confessed quietly, and in a natural move, he reached up and brushed a strand of hair from your eyes, something jolting in him when his fingers didn't pass through.

Billy shook his head, drawing you in by the waist and touching his lips to yours gently, relishing the sensation of you melting under his touch. He wouldn't dare try anything else, this new allowance precarious. Who knew if it would be taken away from him? Your hand found the collar of his shirt, just holding it as his nose bumped your soft cheek. Soft...he could feel that you were soft. Just as he'd imagined.

Conscious of your need to breathe, he separated himself from you, just a little. The last of your tears escaped, and he thumbed them away, not wanting to let go now that he had the option. You whispered, "I can't leave. I love you."

The chasm within him began to open again, and he could see the way it could have gone. Past and present and future. Every version of you and him spun until they disappeared into nothingness, leaving reality standing still, a tower of his own making. A structure he couldn't tear down if he tried.

He breathed, "I love you and that's why you have to leave."

The curtains of the summer were drawn shut, and sometimes Billy wondered if any of it had ever been real. He loved you too much to make you stay, to leave you hanging off the whim of a dead man with nothing to give forever.

He wished you hated him. It would be easier for you to leave.

Any writing on the wall was faint, and he'd been unsure if you'd go through with it. But after the day you were set to leave marched by without so much as a glimpse of you, he bowed his head and thanked whoever was above. Guilt would have tainted everything if you had stayed. He would rather love you miserably than be responsible for the end of another life, especially yours.

Time went back to how it was before. Boundless and brutal. Billy existed in the plane of memories, staring at the sky and letting it consume him.

He hoped for many things. That you would love it when you got there and forget all about him. That you would fall in love because everyone should fall in love with you.

Most of all, he hoped you would never return. He hoped whatever had tethered you to this place would unravel and blow away, off to some far away corner of the earth where you couldn't reach.

Regret tainted him oftentimes, and he wondered if he could leave like you had said. Go find you wherever you were and remind you that even the dead were enchanted by you.

Billy imagined sometimes what would have happened if you stayed. If maybe when you loved him so closely he would have eventually become whole again, not quite alive but not a ghost any longer. Physical. Worthy. Maybe it would have been proof to whoever had damned him this way. He was alive so long as he was loved. It could have been his second chance. The one leniency he'd snuck in the margins of his death's contract.

He let that dream rot with his body, buried in the earth below.

[sadiecoocoo]

Arcane Fanfiction - Hazel, Sweet and Dynamic

Summary - After the events of the final battle, Jayce and Viktor find themselves in the same universe that Jayce was stuck in before, at least they hope it is.

Relationships - Jayce/Viktor

Tags - Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fix-It, Post-Canon, Jayce is a Sweetheart (League of Legends), Jayce Needs a Hug (League of Legends), Protective Jayce (League of Legends), Viktor Needs a Hug (League of Legends), Hurt Viktor (League of Legends), Hurt Jayce (League of Legends), Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Word Count - 3,431

Read on AO3

Notes: Viktor Nation, how we feeling? yay I finished this! maybe... this might end up being multichaptered depending on the popular consensus :) anyways, been a minute since I've posted any fics, but Arcane has saved me from myself because and I will proceed to think about it for the weeks to come fic name is from the Eye Blue, Like the Atlantic song :) alrighty, please enjoy <3

He could still see the color, even with his eyes closed. First there was a trail of gold that spiraled around his irises. Then it faded and bloomed again with blues, purples, and pinks. When he focused on the hazel eyes holding his gaze, he thought it might have been the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

But it was fading, giving way to the dark void that his eyelids cast over his eyes. What had seemed so loud was now an eerie silence. For a long time, he saw, heard, and felt nothing. It wasn’t too different to how he had been before all the color.

He had only heard the devil that whispered in his ear, the part of him that believed singularity was perfection. He couldn’t describe what he had felt, he thought maybe it had been contempt, for being rejected repeatedly by the one person who he thought would understand. Maybe he had felt jealousy, for the people who already seemed so perfect, for those who didn’t seek any more growth because they believed they didn’t need it. Maybe he just felt nothing, or an absence of what he should have felt. It had been addicting.

When cold pricked his skin, he longed to go back to that absence. He felt himself shiver, he thought how strange that must have been. How could someone whose skin had been nearly entirely replaced by metal have the gall to shiver ?

He felt more, and that more seemed to grow as he gained more awareness. Something hard and grainy pressed into his side, biting into his cheek and any exposed skin. It made him shudder and curl into himself.

Even the things that he knew should have been comforting made him want to crawl into a hole and cease to exist. The soft cloth wrapped around him, something that had been given to him because someone thought him to feel cold when he had already lost all sense of feeling, felt like it was scraping against his skin. It rubbed him raw, leaving him feeling as though there were burns all over him.

He took in a heaving breath, though that too was unfamiliar. Something that everything needed on a basis to survive should not have been so unfamiliar. It should not have made him panic more and struggle to breath again.

He thought he had died, surrounded by all that color and noise, knowing that he was imperfect and being content with it. How could he be breathing? Or was this his punishment for what he had done to those people looking for salvation, to experience what he had abandoned again, in such volumes that he could hardly stand it.

He gagged, coughing on nothing but his own stuttering breath. He tasted something metallic, and hoped, begged that it was the familiarity of his metal flesh. Instead, something dripped from his mouth, being flung out as he coughed.

Blood. He had never been so terrified of blood, yet equally so grateful. He was alive, but he wasn’t at the same time. He had yet to regain his full awareness, yet he was aware of this fact. Blood, if he wasn’t already struggling to do so, the prospect of it might have taken his ability to breathe.

He coughed again, this time it made his whole body jolt. He turned from his side to his back, causing some of the grainy texture to fall off of his face.

He took in another wheezing inhale, and opened his eyes to color. It was the most hideous color he had ever seen. How dare something be so dull after he had just witnessed such vibrance only moments before.

He missed the blues, the golds, and the pink. He wanted to see the hazel again. The intensity of it that promised him the salvation he had been looking for for his entire life. Instead he got the dullness of a storm cloud, with only the occasional flash of light.

He moved his hand, his fingernails gripping into the gritty dirt he lay on. With the addition of sight, what he felt seemed to lessen in intensity, though it was all staggeringly new. Except it wasn’t entirely new, just forgotten, he prayed that in time he would get used to it. Then again, if he was in hell, if he had died, he figured that would never happen.

He slid his arms back against the ground, feeling the dirt rub against his skin. He pushed against his elbows, levering himself to sit upright. He looked down at himself, analyzing the skin that wasn’t flesh but now didn’t seem like metal anymore either.

His legs were the same, healed despite looking even more deformed than they had been. He ran his slender along his leg, the leg he despised. The leg that someone thought made him admirable.

That brought another thought to his mind. The person who had stopped him from making the biggest mistake of his life. He had been with him through the end. Though he hoped Jayce hadn’t been brought to whatever infernal place he was in now, he longed for his presence.

“Jayce,” he muttered, not quite expecting an answer, but all the while over prepared for it.

He turned his analytic gaze elsewhere, it looked like he was in a small canyon. It looked familiar, but distorted in ways he couldn’t describe. Everything was dull and grey, though, mimicking the storm clouds above them.

A stuttering cough brought Viktor out of whatever strange haze he had been in, teetering on the edge of awareness and unawareness. He startled, and looked around for the source of the pained noise.

His eyes landed on a limp form, laying uncomfortably on the ground just a few steps away from him. The man’s back was facing Viktor, but the arm he was laying on looked as if it were reaching towards him, though it was as limp as the rest of the man.

Viktor scrambled to reach him as his mind started to catch up with his eyes. Every movement he made felt unnatural and uncanny. He half dragged himself to the man, almost trampling on top of his arm.

When he reached him, he forced him to lay on his back. Viktor moved his arm so it rested at his side to keep him from laying on it.

Viktor’s breathing hastened as his mind and eyes worked together to supply him with more details of what he was seeing. Dirt, grime, blood, a stained, dark tunic, messy hair, longer than what he was used to.

Jayce was here, with him, even if he was unconscious. When Viktor pressed his ear to Jayce’s chest, he heard a steady heartbeat.

Viktor startled again and Jayce’s chest stuttered with another cough. Then he watched as his eyes fluttered, that glorious hazel peeking out through his lashes. He thought he could get addicted to that sight.

“Jayce,” he whispered like a secret as he watched Jayce’s unfocused eyes roam, then land on Viktor. The smallest smile graced Jayce’s split and bloodied lips. Something made Viktor’s vision blurry, and he felt something wet trail down his cheeks.

“Hey,” Jayce rasped. That was all Viktor needed before he practically tackled the other man. He wrapped his arms behind Jayce’s back and pressed his face into the crook of his neck. A large, calloused hand landed in Viktor’s hair as Jayce’s other hand was placed firmly on Viktor’s back, pressing him impossibly closer.

It felt like Viktor’s throat was closing up, and he made a choked, foreign sound that he barely remembered the name of. Jayce started to gently shush him, running his hand through Viktor’s hair soothingly.

“I-I’m so sorry,” He sobbed, holding onto Jayce tighter as if it would help get his point across. “I thought I was doing a good thing.” he promised, because he really did. How could a world without death, disease, and destruction be bad?

How had he not seen that for that to be possible, everything had to be destroyed anyway? He was foolish to think that he would be the answer to the world’s sorrows. What authority could he possibly have had to think such a thing?

“I know,” Jayce said softly. Even after everything, he still understood. “We’re okay,” He assured, somehow pulling Viktor closer.

They laid there for what felt like a blissful eternity. Viktor’s sobbing (what a foreign thing to him, even on the days where his leg hurt so bad he couldn’t move it, he had never been one to cry) devolved into sniffles and weak coughs. Jayce’s iron grip felt less desperate and more relaxed. For a moment everything felt peaceful, like there was nothing but this small bubble that the two of them were in.

Then there was a loud bang, the sound of thunder. Jayce startled, sitting up and bringing Viktor along with him. Of course, Jayce had always hated storms. Viktor could remember one late night in the lab, both of them exhausted, Jayce for having to be at an event and Viktor for working himself to death, when Jayce had been brought to near meltdown from a storm raging outside. He had reluctantly opened up to Viktor about the blizzard that nearly took his and his mother’s life.

Viktor now remembered that blizzard as if he were there. In a way he supposed he had been. Seeing into Jayce’s mind, even only for a second, was a vertiginous experience. It felt much more intimate compared to those he had healed before, likely because those were taken, not thrown upon him like Jayce’s memories had been.

“Where are we?” Jayce asked quietly, sounding as though he were in shock. Viktor pried himself from the comforting place against Jayce’s chest and looked around. It looked like they were in a small gorge, open to the dull sky.

The assaulting grey that everything still was made Viktor irrationally angry. He longed to be back in that astral place, embracing Jayce for what he thought would be the last time, and being surrounded by so much noise it almost drowned itself out.

“I’m not sure,” Viktor answered reluctantly. Jayce’s hands were on Viktor’s shoulder, but he regretfully pulled away to stand. He was surprised to feel strong enough to stand without a cane or crutch. 

His leg wasn’t as pain addled as before, though there was still a dull ache that threatened to get worse with time. Even so, he felt like he could breathe a little easier, and he felt more energized.

 He unconsciously reached out to the arcane, expecting a small reassurance that it was still there. For a moment he thought that Sky would appear beside him with glowing light surrounding her like a halo.

He was instead met with a strange absence. It was a hollowness that he didn’t quite resent, but it brought him no comfort. Even knowing what Jayce had seen, that the arcane was dangerous, he still sought to use its power.

Looking down at Jayce, who was still warily observing their surroundings, he thought his ability to heal would have been useful in that moment.

Jayce had on a leg brace. It was nearly identical to the one Viktor had used. He had failed to notice it before, too hyper focused on his glorious evolution. For a moment a spike of fear made Viktor worry that Jayce had somehow contracted the same illness he had suffered from for so much of his life. His rational mind told him it had to just be a physical injury, but he hadn’t been the most rational person lately.

“I guess we should figure out where we are,” Jayce suggested absentmindedly. He was still analyzing what was around them with furrowed brows. Viktor thought he looked like he might recognize the place, and if he thought back on the memories he had seen, he thought he did too.

Jayce stood with little complaint, relieving Viktor of some of his worries. Even so, he couldn’t help searching for some sign of pain or discomfort coming from his partner.

“You’re not hurt at all, are you?” He asked carefully. He had never liked being asked if he was okay, as if he were a fragile shard of glass. He doubted Jayce would appreciate, in his eyes unwarranted, concern either.

“Nothing new,” Jayce reassured him. He wiped at his split lip, dispelling some of the blood congealing there. “You?” He asked, looking Viktor over for any sign of injury. Viktor only shook his head. He didn’t know if anything could even pierce his skin anymore. The only injuries he thought he could get were mental ones now.

Jayce nodded silently, his worried gaze softening. Viktor couldn’t help but feel something lift in his chest. Neither of them were hurt, they were okay. Though, he still felt a faint buzzing in the back of his mind, something whispering to him that everything felt off, just a little to the left.

He could feel the dirt and grit poking into the soles of his feet as he walked, like little pin-pricks. He hadn’t remembered feeling that in the commune either. A hollow breeze blew by, and he couldn’t help but shiver.

Jayce silently adjusted the blue fabric VIktor was wearing to better cover him. He gently brought it to cover Viktor’s shoulder, then patted it lightly to smooth out a small wrinkle.

Viktor watched silently as he did so, his lips parted from his surprise. Jayce was careful, but not in the same way one would be careful with a fragile object. If anything, he adjusted the fabric with reverence .

He wasn’t sure if Jayce’s silence made it worse or not. How could he do that like it was so natural after everything. It made Viktor’s stomach clench with doubt.

“Come on,” Jayce said quietly, nodding towards a small opening that looked to lead out into a field. His soft eyes bore into Viktor, his skin burning wherever they looked.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded silently. Viktor allowed Jayce to walk ahead, but followed closely. It almost felt like a tether was tying him to Jayce, only allowing him to go so far as the length of its circumference.

The two walked until they found a singular old and decaying building. Veins of color, still disgustingly dull, rode up the walls like vines and emerged on the roofs like coral.

A sense of apprehension settled in Viktor’s gut. He drew back, wishing to go back to the solace of the small ravine the two had been in before. But Jayce continued to creep forward, and that tether tugged at Viktor to stay close

It was another hour before they saw the first husk of what was once a person. They were stuck forever in a still run, their face molded into a silent scream. The sense of relief and joy at finding him and Jayce both alive and safe was tarnished by the sight.

“This is like before,” Jayce muttered, almost to himself. His eyes stared blankly forward, remembering something that Viktor didn’t think he wanted to know about.

“Jayce?” Viktor whispered with uncertainty. He hesitantly put his hand on Jayce’s shoulder, the same one that had the singular piece of armor. The shoulder plate was strangely gone now, though the rest of the coat seemed intact.

Jayce startled when Viktor made contact, like he had forgotten Viktor was even there. He was stuck in another place in his mind, or maybe this was the same place, and he was just thinking of a different time. 

Viktor retracted his hand when Jayce stared at him silently for a moment. The taller man blinked several times before frowning and turning towards the husk again.

“This is the same as when I was in the other dimension,” He explained, licking his lips nervously. Viktor didn’t say that he already knew that, that he had seen it too. 

“I- what if we failed?” He asked. Jayce slowly reached his hand up to touch the husk’s face. He cupped its cheek gently, rubbing his thumb in a circle.

Viktor stared as he watched the worry in Jayce’s expression devolve into horror. He wasn’t sure if the horror was from the fact that they might have failed, that he was currently touching the husk of someone who had been alive maybe only minutes ago, or that he had broken another promise.

Viktor placed his hand firmly on Jayce’s shoulder, remembering the times Jayce had done similarly to him whenever they were at an impasse with hextech. He doubted it felt as warm as Jayce’s touch always had.

“Perhaps we’re in the dimension you were in before?” Viktor tried gently. His eyes softened as Jayce turned to look at him miserably.

“I never wanted to come back here, but I hope so.” Jayce mumbled. Viktor squeezed his shoulder.

Jayce put his hand over Viktor’s without a word.

They continued walking, passing more and more husks of what used to be people. They had made it into the undercity from the plains they were in before.

Viktor was starting to recognize some of the buildings. He had to speed up his pace when he saw the river that had led him to Singed so many years ago.

He could still smell the grey in the air, taste its foul and bitter scent. He could feel it pressing on his lungs, trying to make his disease resurface.

The two men had stopped and were sitting in an alley with their backs against the wall. Jayce’s leg had noticeably started bothering him, and Viktor hated to admit it, but his own leg was getting irritated too.

He had been so used to not feeling anything in that leg, the dull ache that made it throb felt almost overwhelming.

It was fairly cold, likely getting into the winter months of the year. The never ending storm didn’t help much either, though it thankfully hadn’t rained at all.

The alley they were in was dark, filled with dust and grime. There were two husks in there, one much smaller than the other, that were clutching each other tightly. Viktor pointedly did not look at them, instead staring ahead at the bits of faded graffiti on the wall, though the graffiti might’ve been more of the strange corruption.

“Hey, V, you doing okay?” Jayce asked quietly. They still spoke in whispers, as if talking too loud would shatter their strenuous peace.

 Viktor was still waiting for Jayce to be mad, to scream and yell. Then he would remember that Jayce was never that kind of person, sure he got mad sometimes, but he felt bad about it afterwards. Viktor hoped that that wasn’t another thing that changed about him.

“No,” Viktor answered, because, after everything, he couldn’t bring himself to lie to Jayce. He glanced at him before flitting his eyes back to the wall. Just that small moment of eye contact felt overwhelming. 

Everything seemed so loud now. Whenever he moved it felt like pins were poking his skin, like all his limbs had been asleep for a long time.

Viktor flinched when Jayce rested his head on his shoulder lightly. He looked at Jayce, who was now also staring at the wall blankly. 

His hair fell over his eyes. It was another change. They were both so different now, but this one seemed like an okay change.

“Are-“ he started, a little louder than he meant to, “are you alright?” He corrected.

Jayce only let out a rough sigh in response. He moved so his face was buried in Viktor’s shoulder.

He tentatively leaned his head over Jayce’s.

“Not right now,” Jayce whispered, making it a secret between them, even though they were the only living beings around. “But I think I will be soon.” He added with a release of breath, and his shoulders sagged as if a weight had been lifted off of them.

“Why?” Viktor asked. They weren’t in a situation where it seemed like they could ever be okay. 

“‘Cause even if everyone else is gone, I’ve still got my partner.” Jayce said, lifting his head to look Viktor in the eyes earnestly. “Right?” He asked, a wary doubt trailing into his voice and his gaze bordering on desperation.

For a moment Viktor only stared in disbelief. He didn’t deserve the forgiveness Jayce was offering him so easily. He didn’t deserve it at all.

Viktor smiled.

“Of course.”

End Notes: I'm actually in love with this, it feel perfect to me. but I'm still debating on making it multichaptered I hope you all liked this, it's been a hot minute since I've really written something with so much detail in just descriptions, so I would appreciate any comments <3 hope you all have a lovely day <3333

[safetycar-restart]

So I was doing a deep dive on your account cause your stuff is gold 👌🏻👌🏻and I found this post

https://www.tumblr.com/safetycar-restart/716054638514896896/hey-shels-i-hope-you-are-feeling-much-better-now

And the farm au! Oh my god it lit up my brain like nothing else… and cause I too love angst…

Bunny Charles and Arthur being used to being spoiled bunnies, living the high life, all luxurious life but then their dom realized just how needy and dependent and expensive keeping two bunnies are and they do the equivalent of dropping them off on the side of the road in a box… so now poor bunnies are out in the cold harsh world and just don’t know what to do…

They just start walking back in the direction of home because maybe Dom made a mistake? and forgot them? But it’s a long cold walk and when the sun sets they see a warm light in the distance - your little cottage and farm, gardens full of yummy food and a welcoming warmth.

You wake up to two bunnies curled up in front of the fire place, covered in dirt with tear tracks

Or maybe you have a stall in the local farmers market and one day you hear just gut wrenching yips coming from the nearest alley and when you check it out — cat!max is there hiding and nursing a broken tail. Maybe his dad was yanking on his tail as a punishment and it broke/sprained it and max lashed out and ran away. Obviously you can’t leave poor kitty by himself, so you grab some of your supplies and spend the day slowly getting max used to you to allow you close enough to bandage his tail up. When you finally do that, he’s just curled up in your lap purring and out of his mind on catnip and genuine love and care and he just follows you home when you go to leave

Or maybe your farm is in an area with a lot of hunters and you’re taking a small hike cause it’s a gorgeous day for when you hear pained howling. Wolf!pierre and Carlos are caught in a bear trap or up a tree in some netting and it looks like they’ve been there for a while. You quickly get to work in getting them free and coax them to come to your house to fix them right up.

Or maybe you finally feel that you’ve settled nicely into your new farm and decide that it’s time to think about finding a hybrid for company. Maybe it’s luck or maybe it’s fate but you meet the pair of cat!oscar and dog!logan - they’ve bonded and won’t be separated but everyone they’ve tried stay with only wanted one not both…

(Like I said ☺️🙈 this ask sent like fireworks through my mind (love love love your writing!!!) -🦚)

I've had this ask in my askbox for months and oh my god every time I read it I get obsessed. I hadnt answered it yet because I knew I needed to set aside quite a bit of time because I knew this would be so long 😂

Here is the link to the original post so you don't have to search the URL, I'd suggest giving this a quick read for context if you're confused. It's very short but does explain it all :))

Right okay so the general premise is this: you own a farm in the hybrid!au with all sorts of drivers that come along and join. We can do this as a poly type thing or we can do it just as you run a farm and one driver comes along, whatever you guys would like to discuss! I think I'll tag everything with 'farm!au' but then also add 'poly!farm!au' to any posts that involve any sort of poly situation.

All of the stuff discussed by the anon above are just so so so perfect!!!! I'm gonna discuss each idea in a bit more detail each under their own heading and then we can go from there :))

BUNNY!CHARLES AND BUNNY!ARTHUR:

Aw poor little bunnies!! My immediate thought was that maybe their original caretaker/owner had died and they were handed over to whoever their dom has chosen and that was very much the wrong choice. They do try to get along with their new caretaker, of course they do. But bunnies are by far the most high needs of all hybrids, they're social creatures and they need constant attention or else they'll get sad and lonely.

Maybe bunnies need attention from people who are not bunnies as well? They need caretakers who are gentle and attentive and when their new person cannot do that and they start acting out (they can't help it!! They want attention!!), yeah they end up on the side of the road.

I definitely think for these two you wouldnt even get an option. You sort of just walk into the living room and two bunny hybrids are sleeping next to the fireplace.

CAT!MAX:

I love the idea of finding Max outside somewhere like at a farmer's market. I think maybe his dad left him there not to abandon him but to teach him some sort of lesson? Max is just curled up trying to keep quiet and waiting for his dad to decide he's had enough punishment and come fetch him. You manage to convince him to come home with you, promising him that you just want to get him into some nice clean clothes and get a good meal in him and then you'll call his dad for him.

Except well... Max feels so safe with you? He keeps on forgetting himself and purring or gathering blankets. He's never felt this warm and cared for. You offer to let him stay the night and the next morning you're supposed to call his father like you promised but well... Needless to say that never happens.

WOLF!CARLOS AND WOLF!PIERRE:

I feel like these two would have started out as enemies but they were forced to stay together? Like maybe they got separated from the rest of their pack and only had each other. They became much closer and got used to just the two of them. They don't trust anyone else. They manage on their own and are almost feral?

But then one of them gets caught in bear trap. The one not trapped tries to free the other of course but they can't. It's the fear of losing their only person that leads them to come into your yard. Maybe they had seen you quite a few times? Like you live on the boarder of the forest and they often see you walking in your garden and in the forest and you always seem calm, so the one not trapped comes to find you.

You follow him to the other one and help free him. They try to scurry off but the one is too injured. You convince them both to come back with you and let you care for their injuries. And they just never end up leaving?

[rainbow-nerdss]

Do you have the most favorite scene from your wips?

Hi Diana!

Yesss I have so many scenes I love, but this has to be up there with my favourites. It's from near the end of my s7 fic (tentative title: A Minor Delay), which will be starting to post soooon!! I just love it when they talk to each other lmao

"What happened?" Buck looks over at Eddie, and he swallows. Who else could he tell? Who else would understand the thing he hasn't talked about yet, the deep, squirmy discomfort he's been grappling with all this time? He can't lead with that, though. Instead, he opts for the straw that broke the camel's back. "She liked my parents."  Eddie winces, and it brings a trace of a smile to Buck's face. Eddie has never needed Buck to prove that his parents were a problem. Even before Buck himself had known the whole story, Eddie had been on his side. Still, that isn't everything. That isn’t the heart of why he’d broken up with Natalia. The conversations they’d never had, the reason Buck had avoided those conversations for so long. "I just—" he casts his mind back to another conversation, so many months ago in a different kitchen. "I died, Eddie. I died, and everything felt different but nothing actually changed.” He takes a shaky breath, staring into his cup. “And then I met Natalia, and she was…” Buck searches for the words, and finally looks up at Eddie. “It felt like a sign. With her job, and how we met, it felt like there was finally a reason why it happened. Like maybe she was the reason. I wanted it to be true, so I sort of... Went with the flow. Tried to convince myself it felt right, even though it never really did." If Buck’s honest with himself, he’s known all along that Natalia's reactions to the time he spent with Eddie weren't the real reason he'd let himself drift away. Taylor had disliked Eddie too, and Buck had still spent a significant amount of their relationship over at the Diaz house.  If he was truly honest with himself... "I'm sorry, Eddie." "You're sorry?" Eddie sets down his coffee, only halfway to his mouth. He frowns, confused. "I am. I... I've been a pretty shit friend lately. For months, really. Ever since…” he waves his hand, indicating all of it. “I guess I sort of knew all along that if I talked to you about this stuff, you'd call me on my bullshit. You’d point out how little sense it made, and I just really wanted it to be right. I wanted it to work out so bad, Eddie. I wanted… I needed it all to mean something.”  This time, Buck can’t fight the tears that come to his eyes. “You’re the one who sees me, Eddie. You’ve always been able to see me, the real me, behind all my bullshit."

gonna count this as my fuck it friday, so I was tagged by @disasterbuckdiaz @jamespearce9-1-1 @daffi-990 @steadfastsaturnsrings @devirnis

And some no-pressure tags: @wikiangela @wildlife4life @exhuastedpigeon @theotherbuckley @aspecbuddie @thewolvesof1998 @loserdiaz @callmenewbie @kwills91 @trenchcoatsandtimetravel @spotsandsocks @sunflowerdiaiz @lover-of-mine @liabegins @kiti-the-warrior-poet @lovelettertothewise @slowlyfoggydestiny @buddieboos

[skeedelvee]

Carry On Countdown Day 19 - Fluff

For this year's COC I've decided to put together daily fic rec lists! Let me know if you find any new favorite reads from these <3

Enjoy some fluffy fics!

Let Me Hold Both Your Hands (In the Holes of My Sweater) by Jostens_pitch

Rated G, 13,320 words

Maybe I drank too deeply tonight and I’m hallucinating. Maybe I’m dreaming. Maybe I’ve died and have trapped myself in some fucked up purgatory. Whatever the explanation may be, Simon Snow is wearing a Watford football jumper. My Watford football jumper. or an au set during sixth year where baz catches simon wearing one of his jumpers and finds out that his smell calms simon down. wanting to see how far this will go, baz begins leaving his jumpers out for simon to wear and they begin a dangerous game with unspoken rules and hidden feelings.

ponerte a dormir by @confused-bi-queer

Rated T, 1,829 words

Baz's first week of term is eating him alive and he's aggressive and angsty. Simon comes to help him relax. Or force him to do so. Simon takes care of a stressed Baz.

Emotional Support Tiddy by @facewithoutheart

Rated T, 1,461 words

From whence came the Emotional Support Tiddy game? Penny said Agatha started it; Agatha pointed at Shepard. Shepard, of course, took full credit while Niamh argued she deserved partial points. Baz, on the other hand, blamed everyone. (The hypocrite.) Two times Baz needed Simon's boobs, and one time Simon just needed Baz.

Two Kisses (Remix) by @raenestee

Rated T, 846 words

On Christmas Eve, Simon witnesses Baz tucking his siblings in and the forehead kisses he gives them all, including Mordelia's much-loved Simon Snow plushie. Will he be able to convince Baz to give him forehead kisses, too?

Nan by @yellobb

Rated G, 882 words

Baz is sitting on the floor at Nan’s feet while she runs her fingers through his hair. That’s a thing we do now. Baz and I’ll come over to visit Nan and Jamie at least once a week, and they’re both so excited every time. It hurts to think that I could have always had this, but I try not to think about that too often. My therapist says it’s not healthy to think of the “what if’s”.

Of Buttons & Beans by @stillmadaboutpetra

Rated T, 19,258 words

Penny gifts Simon a "Baz-plushie" she made in class (a stitch in time saves nine!) so Simon has a healthy way to vent his feelings the summer before 7th year. Maybe it will save her some of Simon's Baz-rants come the new year. What Simon ends up doing is pouring out a different feeling than she thought he would.

New Friend by @bazypitchandsimonsnow

Rated G, 2,309 words

Baz Pitch gets dragged to his mum's coworker's kids's birthday party. He doesn't know anyone there. But there's always opportunities to make new friends. Based on "platonic kiss" prompt from Tumblr.

A Lifetime of Birthdays by @prettylightsbigcity

Rated M, 1,893 words

Baz decides to make up for all the birthdays Simon never got to celebrate.

Mon Chou by @sillyunicorn

Rated T, 4,187 words

Or, "Five Times Simon Calls Baz 'Cabbage' and One Time He Doesn't" Google translate tells me mon is French for "my" (okay, I guess I could have figured that out) and chou means— I frown at my phone. Why would Baz call me his cabbage?

✨Gratuitous self rec✨ A Gift From the Propheseals by me! @skeedelvee

Rated M, 6,762 words

Simon goes on a mission to contact the propheseals and try to get a prophecy about the war. Instead, they gift him with visions of Baz. Problem is: he doesn't know where Baz is or why he's having these visions about him.

If you have any recs that fit the prompt that I've missed, feel free to leave them in the comments! There's plenty of gaps in my reading so there's a good chance I may not have read it

Also I've had a hard time finding if some people are here on Tumblr, so if you know someone who hasn't been tagged, feel free to leave that in the comments as well <3

@carryon-countdown

[beesmygod]

today is webcomics day. i am bea and i make "A Ghost Story" - part 1: pre-gaming

webcomic day is a yearly celebration of the art form concocted by the screentones podcast team as a way for people to see how the sausage gets made. my webcomic "a ghost story" has been running for over 10 years, and yet i still don't think i can say i am good at making a webcomic. regardless, the comic is getting made because otherwise i become very, very sick in the head. today i would like to share with you the process of making a page of "A Ghost Story" from start to finish. either this demystifies the process or will make you think im so cool and strong for doing this 2x a week. instead of reblogging this one post until it gets very long, i will be posting individual updates that i will then compile and post on my personal website. block the tags now if you HATE comics and want them to EXPLODE.

if you have any questions, even things like "what the fuck are you even talking about" feel free to ask. i want to feel confident in what i make again and i think sometimes interrogation from an outside source is really

---

that said, let's get started. wait just kidding i want a cup of coffee first, hold on.

ok now im ready. i have a big glass of water. i have coffee. i have a headset for the parts of work that don't involve typing words. i can't type words and listen to some streamer babble in my ear at the same time, so it has to be instrumental music or nothing. i just took my meds so they should kick in after about 30 mins. i woke up late today, which is weird and annoying. but maybe i can work late instead.

first off, i need to know where i'm going beyond this one page. if i dont know where im going with something, then i usually create something that sucks that i have to deal with later. hold on my internet died, i have to reset the router. ok, anyway.

what's rattling around in my brain is that not only do i have to deal with maxine's current predicament, i am also dealing with multiple plot elements i need to wrap back around to from the previous chapter. luckily, im about to put maxine down for a nap, which means i can get back to those other elements:

i need to finish the exposition from the three ankou characters for this story arc establishing their motivations as the oppositional force in the story. the "villain" is not these three specifically, but their boss. they need to have a loose understanding of what's going on in order to communicate this to the audience. god this started turning into a huge ass paragraph so i'll just keep it short there.

we've jumped back to before jack's horrible day from the first chapter of this storyline so we have to make our way back toward that and then lapping it, which means wrapping up his various open threads like:

feeding victoria and learning something new about her

finding out alice is a very exceptional employee who is getting many awards

watching valdo call lily while interrupting her during something personal to ask her for help with maxine's situation.

jack meeting with valdo and lily the day after they first met so jack can just tell them straight up that lily has 4 sisters she doesnt know about.

help that girl with her poltergeist problem. remember that. i've had jokes for this rattling in my head for like 4 years. im going insane.

and also the fucking tilberi!!! that has a point its going somewhere!!! there's a larger menace here!!!

other things to set up the climax of this storyline. sexual tensions, hints at larger emotional problems not immediately evident to the reader

lots of moving parts. and i feel like im moving in slow motion to get to them. i can see them all weaving together in my head, its the process of putting that onto paper that's proving difficult.

ok that took an hour starting and stopping. -_- let me write the next part as i keep brainstorming on how to approach this page. taking a "rubber duck" approach to this might help. heres an image from the last page i worked on (i have a 5 page buffer rn so the site does not match the finished pages) to get us semi-situated.

also because images will help people understand what skill level we're working with here. i need to be able to communicate an idea to the audience; if the art also looks good on top of that, then that's just an added bonus. but the ability to communicate my ideas is sometimes hampered by my lack of artistic skill or comics language ineptitude. like those speech bubbles kind of fucking suck but at a certain point you have to just hit print on what you're working on in order to keep your already glacial pace.

webcomics is a tightrope act where you're also spinning 4 plates at once. the trick is to keep the audience from realizing how many actually fall or how wobbly they all are. the act sucks but technically its not a failure.

[mossyivy]

CHRIS STANS RISE!!! WE NEED TO GIVE THAT MAN MORE LOVE AND ATTENTION!!! 😤

Domestic Chris…Because that’s my specialty. 🥹

I see Chris having three kids, two boys, one girl. He’d be the type of dad to push his boys so hard, always expecting the best of the best from them. His daughter as well, but not as harsh. I see them all pretty close in age, maybe 1-2 years apart for each kid.

He’d have his boys do all sorts of sports and activities. Football, baseball, basketball, tennis, track, cross country, you name it, they do it. Chris would also help them practice, especially in football and baseball. His daughter would probably do ballet, tennis, and be in the Girl Scouts with Cecilia, and maybe do drama with Violet as well.

Also, it’s very much cannon that Chris spoils his daughter 10X more than his boys. His little girl wants to go on a Sephora shopping trip? Take his card and go crazy. His boys want to go out with their friends? Here’s $25 for the both of you.

Chris is also such a loving husband. He’d buy you gifts “Just because”. Or if you mention a new designer purse online, it would mysteriously show up on the dining table to greet you when you woke up…With a handwritten note of course. You were very much a spoiled wife, but he didn’t care, you gave him three beautiful kids for god sakes, of course he’d buy you whatever you want.

If there was ever a time any of your boys were disrespectful to you while he was gone, (Because they know better than to mess with their mother while dad’s around.) He’d give them the “You don’t disrespect MY wife.” Talk. Ugh, 😣 give me a chance Chris…☹️

- Anon! 🎀

🎀 ANON I FUCKING LOVE YOU I'VE BEEN WANTING TO TALK ABOUT HIM BUT NO ONE REALLY DOES MUCH IN THE CHRIS TAG ANYMORE AND THAT PLUMMETS MY MOTIVATION!!!

But I'll scream with you anyday bb!!!

(I'm sorry this is so long I just couldn't help myself 😭)

Okay so I've had the idea that Chris met someone with a child from a previous relationship (Your first born son, Let's name him Oliver and call him Ollie for short! He's like 2 years older than Violet. He struggles a bit in school so they're in the same grade, along with his younger brother, after he was held back in 5th and 8th grade but that's okay! Everyone struggles!)

Ollie was like 2 when they first met. Your ex-husband was a HORRIBLE MAN, absolutely terrible to you and the only good thing he ever did was bless you with Ollie. That's it.

Chris and his wife met through work (let's be honest here, how tf else would he meet a woman? Chris is very much a workaholic.) His wife is basically the lead of the BSAA's dispatch response team (Basically what Hunnigan does at the FOS but the BSAA's version) and she's good at her job. Very strong willed and mouthy as a mf. Isn't scared to go back at anyone over the radio and definitely got into it with Chris once or twice before they officially met.

(catch me posting what happened when they met in person the first chance someone asks)

Anyway!!

After y'all start dating it doesn't take long before you introduce Chris to your son and Ollie is just OBSESSED with Chris. Like you've never seen this kid so excited to see another human being until Chris shows up. You two only started dating for a few months and Ollie already calls Chris dad. You try correcting him scared AF that Chris is gonna get freaked out but he's actually super chill with it. He's use to taking care of people, he basically raised Claire after their parents died but this little guy is much younger and a lot more fun and excitable than Claire was.

A few months into the relationship you find out you're pregnant. Chris is excited but also freaking out with how often he's gone. But everything works out and you end up having your second son, Christopher Jr but CJ for short.

You and Chris end up getting married not long after your first anniversary after the babies born. Not making a big deal out of anything just getting papers signed and having a little get together celebrating everything.

2 years go by, Ollie's in Kindergarten and CJ does daycare. You start getting horribly ill out of nowhere. So you go get checked out and oh God you're pregnant again...

(This would be the point in time where Leon starts bugging for another baby with his wife)

9 months of Chris being a nervous wreck fly by and the world meets your daughter, Talulla, Lulu for short.

Chris would be adamant on sticking the kids in after school activities once they're old enough. His boys would do sports and his baby girl in softball and girl scouts so she can hangout with her pseudo cousins. (Her being 2 years younger than Violet and 2 years older than Cecilia) Until her older cousin quits cause girl scouts are for babies (🙄)

Chris and his wife would be UBER COMPETITIVE when it came to cookie selling season. It's all out war between the Redfield's and Kennedy's every year.

I feel like Ollie would also really be musically gifted and play piano for the school choir and musicals. Lulu would Ed up wanting to do drama but be a stage hand or in the costume department. She's actually very shy.

CJ is basically Chris when he was a kid. Always doing stupid shit... Getting in trouble over the dumbest of things but looking out for others. (Definitely beat up that kid who was picking on Violet when they were 7.)

You're getting calls from the school at least once a month because CJ got in trouble for either getting into an argument with a teacher over rules or another kid tried something stupid.

[renatogpadilla]

THOUGHTS ON CR3E92 IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER:

- FIRST EVER CR CROSSOVER EPISODE?!

LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

- Dariax said "This Flute doesn't play itself anymore." Doriax canon offscreen?

- "After all the handjobs, this is what we mean to you?!" Damn... I mean, I'm glad Opal and Cyrus found a way to relieve stress, Gods know they're both stressed, but damn.

- Ending the episode on Opal Twice-Crowned hitting phase 2 of the boss fight was EVIL!

I love it, @quiddie ! I feel like when this gets animated in a decade or so, we'll get this fight and the fight with Otohan Thull overlayed one on top of the other for a Season Finale or something!

- Raven Queen going two for two on Rogues turned Paladin! Which is great, but now I have to replan Morrighan's moveset for that imaginary Critical Role fighting game that only exists in my head (somebody ask me about it please, I NEED to talk about it!) but at least she gets some Smite options out of the Bunny Hop command jump!

- Dariax is a Bard now too! That's honestly so perfect for Matt! And the fact that both Sorcerers and Bards are Charisma Casters makes me feel like the Synergies are gonna be great!

- Oh, Dorian, wonderful blue king... That's a lot of strength that your Dice will never agree to let you use for anything cool. I missed you SO MUCH!

- Speaking of that imaginary CR fighting game, this just solidified Opal as a puppet character. The tag combos with Ted would be WILD! Think Kenshi from MK1!

- Fy'ra Rai... Just... FY'RA RAI! Gods, I've missed Anjali at the table! Her memory with Opal, her tug-of-war with her thoughts about her sister... THE LAVA WHIP! Nothing sexier than Monks! Except a pissed off Wizard or Druid.

- On the other side of the table, I LOVE the moment the girls all collectively remembered they had to break the news to Frida... Oh, that's gonna hurt BAD!

- Anyone else noticed that Ashton is BURNT OUT and laying on the ground after his Titan form wears off, but Fearne just says she's really tired and just KEEPS GOING? Ashton is DONE for now, but Fearne needs to keep moving forward... Fuck, I love these two.

- Orym... Just... Orym. If you take a level in Barbarian after this, I wouldn't blame you.

- Side-Note: This means Dorian DID get Orym's last message before they went to the moon! He just didn't/couldn't answer! Which means, through the static and everything, Dorian COULD hear Orym! And now he's probably gonna get this message once the battle is over... Jesus, if they get to Zephra and Keyleth went to the Lodge next to the lake that's gonna be a problem...

- Side-Note Side-Note: Anyone else hoping to GOD that Allura called the Nein to help? Cause Beau and Caleb were involved, but now it feels like an "All Hands on Deck" situation, and we could use Kingsley's small army of pirates right about now...

- So much happened this episode between the grieving and the flashbacks and the rolling for handjobs that I didn't have time to process the splinter cell of Xhorhasians that split their soul in twain until I woke up... Opal may have forgotten, but maybe Ted hasn't? Though if they're the same person, maybe they both forgot...

- Aabria, the corrupting of the Memories was FOUL, I LOVE IT!!!

- Somebody needs to tell Essek about the soul-splitters. In fact, let's get to that while we deal with Ashton too!

- IF OPAL DIES, AMY CAN COME OVER AS DENI$E! Like, I don't WANT her to die, but Westruun isn't that far... 👀

- I just realized this is the first ever FULL episode of CR without Sam at the table... Fuck, man, when it hurts it hurts. Glad Marisha brought back the fan.

"Forgot the Consonants?" "No Letters." OUCH, MISS RAY, WHAT THE FUCK?!

- Raven Queen Paladins hasting themselves first thing in the fight. Vax is back, and he's a Bunny Girl now!

- I like that the Crownkeepers are a two-way Overwatch reunion (McCree Cassidy and Symmetra) and a three-way Persona 5 reunion (Yusuke, Ann Futaba and Akechi).

- Everything was so fucked this episode that everything with Liliana got knocked to the background for me, THAT'S how good it was!

- The SECOND Evoroa said Ludinos was on Exandria I knew EXACTLY where he would be! Now we HAVE to get the Nein involved, right? Unless the bastard makes the city float again...

I cannot WAIT for the next episode! And if Sam brings a new character when all the groups are together, it would be SPECTACULAR! I'm guessing he's going to play one of the moon races, because that just sounds cool... Either that or Tary!

[lonelychicago]

seven-ish sentence sunday

tagged by @monsterrae1 @wildlife4life @spotsandsocks @barbiediaz @buddierights @thewolvesof1998 @prince-buck-diaz @honestlydarkprincess @panbuckley <33

seven is open to interpretation. seven is whatever amount i make it <33

this is for my natalia finds out about the will fic <33 if you wanna be tagged in the fic when i post, interact with this post here

Buck cracks an eyelid. 

The streetlamp outside the house lets in enough light to the living room that Buck can make out shadows and shapes. 

He reaches over and feels the coffee table for his phone, a few second later finally grabbing it and turning it on so he could look at the time.

7:34 AM 

Buck sighs. Any second now he's gonna need to get up and wake up Chris to go to school. His back is killing him from sleeping on the couch for all of this past week and Chris has told him he's being silly a thousand times, but— Buck glances to the dark hallway, Eddie's bedroom door at the end if it. He can't get in there. He just can't. It somehow makes everything more real. 

If Buck stays on the couch and sleeps there, he can pretend it's just another quiet and normal night that he's staying at the Diaz house. He can pretend Eddie is fine and that he's sleeping a few feet away from him. If Buck stays on the couch and closes his eyes, he can pretend his whole world isn't falling apart for a second time. At least for a few hours. 

"Buck?" A small voice comes from Chris' room and when he turns, the kid is standing in the hallway, looking at him with tored eyes. 

"Couldn't sleep, huh?" 

"Yeah, you snore a lot." Chris smiles, a weak and small thing that doesn't reach his eyes. 

Buck chuckles weakly. "So I've been told." 

Chris steps closer to him until he's sitting on the couch and Buck moves and scoots around, making more space for him, an arm coming to wrap around Chris' smaller frame. 

"Can I skip school today?" 

"Chris—"

"Please, Buck. I wanna go to the hospital and stay with dad." 

Chris is a teenager now. He's grown a lot since the first time Buck met him. But right then and yhere, he looks exactly like that scared little boy Buck saw at the funeral after Shannon died. It makes something inside him break. 

"He needs rest, buddy. And he wouldn't want you missing school because of him, now would he?" Buck ruffles Chris' hair. 

"Can we visit him after school then?" 

"Of course. I'll pick you up and then we can go see him. Maybe we could even bring him some gifts? You could make him a card or something." 

"Yeah, maybe." 

"Hey, Chris. It's going to be okay, alright? We're gonna be okay." 

tagging: @911onabc @hippolotamus @shortsighted-owl @messyhairdiaz @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @cowboy-buddie @prettyboybuckley @buckitup @transbuck @transboybuckley @the-likesofus @elvensorceress @spaceprincessem @alyxmastershipper and anyone else who wants to <333

[thewolvesof1998]

Last Line/Tibet Tuesday

Thanks for all the tags! I'm pretty sure I've been tagged by everyone at this point 😂

I do have something to share, this is from a new WIP (I know, I know, I don't need another WIP but I just couldn't help myself and @eddiediaztho is a bad influence) I'm affectionately calling it The Heatwave Fic and it was inspired by me being stuck in the heatwave in London and being delusional from the heat...

Eddie has many regrets in his life, lying on the floor of the cabin in the middle of a heat wave with his six foot two best friend pressing into his side while they were both trying to stay cool under the pitiful breeze of the ancient ceiling fan had the possibility to be high on that list. He turns his head to be confronted with a tattooed and freckle-covered shoulder, he can’t remember when they decided to strip down to their boxers but at the time it had seemed like a good idea, he wasn’t sure about that now considering this was the third time he’d found himself turning to stare at the miles of bare skin.  “Eddie?”  “Hmm?” He drags his eyes up over collarbones, an Adams apple, a chin that had more stubble than usual, lips that Buck had been nervously chewing on and off for the past three days and up until he finally meets eyes as bright as they are blue. So blue in fact that they somehow made his throat even more parched than it already was, he was truly getting delusional from the heat. “Eddie.” “Buck.” “I’m lying in a pool of my own sweat.” He grimaces, “Gross.”  “Eddddiiiieeee” Buck drags his name out in a whine that sounds an awful lot like Chris or maybe Chris sounds an awful lot like Buck, either way, Eddie finds it endearing as much as it is childish. He’s truly lost his mind.  “We have to save water.” He knows what Buck wants, another shower, but they’ve got a limited supply of water and they don’t know how long this heatwave will last.  Buck rolls over to face him, “But I’m so hot.”  Eddie snorts but his reply dies in his throat as his eyes flicker down to Buck’s chest and the way his pecks are squished together in his new position. He wants to bite them, see if they are just as soft as they look. The inappropriate thought causes his cheeks to warm and he can only hope that it blends in with the heat-induced flush that has been present on both of their faces the past few days.  “Just,” He waves his hand in the air, “think about something else,” he mumbles as he trains his eyes up to the ceiling as if the wooden rafters are the most interesting thing he’s seen in years and swears he’s not going to look at Buck until he’s sure he can control himself.  “Like what?” “I don’t know,” He says as he manages a half-decent shrug while lying flat on his back, finding what looks like faces in the wooden beams.  “What are you thinking about?” Buck asks, his voice is low and a little throaty and Eddie blames the lack of sleep for the goosebumps that rise on his arms. Because Buck’s probably just got a dry throat from the heat and here Eddie is lying sexualising his best friend, like a fucking creep. 

And the last line which is a continuation of the above tibet:

Eddie clears his throat, “Uh, that looks like a dog,” He points up to one of the particular doggish faces in the grain of the wooden beams like they’re cloud-watching because he is sure as hell not going to say ‘Oh I was wondering if you would sound like that after I fucked your brains out’. 

Tagging everyone because I honestly don't have the energy to figure out who's already tagged me and who hasn't sooo....

@wikiangela​​ @wildlife4life​ ​ @alyxmastershipper​ @disasterbuckdiaz @spotsandsocks @try-set-me-on-fire @jesuisici33​ @bekkachaos @buddierights @forthewolves @911-on-abc @hippolotamus @shitouttabuck @911onabc @exhuastedpigeon @eddiediaztho @your-catfish-friend @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @watchyourbuck @king-buckley @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @fortheloveofbuddie @sammy-souffle @steadfastsaturnsrings @mangacat201 @theotherluciferr @cowboy-buddie @eowon @rainbow-nerdss @nmcggg

[beepersteeper]

I Will Always Find You -- Astarion x Tav -- I promise | part 1

Astarion and F!Tav live happily together for the remaining years she has, she refuses to be turned into a vampire because her faith says that her soul isn’t finished with its work yet. Tav dies of old age and leaves Astarion to put together the pieces of his broken heart. AN: Lord of Light lore taken and changed to fit the story's means. Not canonically accurate. TLDR storyline stuff. This is an AU where Astarion ascends but isn't a power-hungry bastard and Tav is able to help him continue healing. Wyll is immortal and the Duke. Karlach in my mind, if given a new engine would be able to live a lot longer than the usual tiefling. Another AN: idk if anyone wants tagged in this WIP but let me know.  

“Let me. Please Tav," Astarion begs from his knees on the marble floor. Holding her hands tightly to his lips "Let me give you the gift of eternity.” he waits holding his breath for her to respond.

"No Star,” she whispers through shallow breaths "I've had enough time. I've lived the best life I could, done some amazing things. When it's my time to start again, I'm ready.”

"I'm not.” He openly weeps into her hands. The vampire Ascendant, the strongest vampire that has ever existed, is moments away from losing the only thing he's ever truly cared about. Moments away from losing her. "I will never be ready.” He urges through his tears.

“You'll find me again. This body has done enough. I need to know what my next role is darling.” She says with a blissful smile. “Just promise you'll find me when I come back.” Nothing is hanging in the air around them besides his weeping. Nothing left unsaid, no final things to add. They have shared everything they possibly could. Writing their own love story that could rival those that are written in fiction. He doesn't have the words he wants to say at his disposal. He wants to convince her to stay with him. So he just asks "How will I know? How do I find you?” He sighs, placing gentle kisses on the fragile skin on the back of her hands. Admitting his defeat.

“I don't know love, but you will, or I will. We will know. Maybe you'll hear my laugh, or I'll see your face in a dream or smell your scent on the wind. However it happens we will know." She sighs “I believe it. We are destined to be together. But I'm just not ready yet.” She smiles tilting her head toward him, white hair that has lost its midnight color over the years falls around her face “Besides you don't want this old crone on your arm for eternity." She laughs

“You are as beautiful as the day I met you Tav” Astarion tuts “Is there anything at all I can do to change your mind?”

"There's not, Star." She shakes her head “I can't explain it but I know there's something more for me to do. Once I have that done I will stay with you until the sun blinks out.”

“I…" he pauses looking into her emerald eyes “I will find you Tav. Every time if that's what it takes."

“I know you will." She sighs closing her eyes for longer than Astarion would like.

“Tav?!" She shouts in a whisper.

“I'm here Star, just so tired." She coughs and squeezes his hand. “Will you kiss me?"

“There's nothing I would like more." He laughs hearing his voice ringing back to their days on the road, all those times she would ask to steal a kiss when others weren’t looking, or when he wasn't ready for any surprise intimacy. He leans down, brushing her hair behind her small rounded ears and gently kissing her lips feeling her warmth transfer to his own. “You are perfect, my love." Cold tears escape his eyes and fall into her hair. “I love you. I will love you forever."

"And I love you more.” She smiles one more time before her grip on his hands goes limp and he hears the breath of her soul leaving her body. 

He runs the pads of his thumbs over her cheeks feeling no resistance at his shaking touch. He screams until his throat is raw. Tears flow freely from his eyes, and he feels his dead heart break into pieces. He holds her for a long time until he feels no more warmth emanating from her form. He made arrangements to bury her next to his headstone, sparing no expense for her, but only having their close friends in attendance, shutting out the entirety of Baldur’s Gate from the ceremony. 

Astarion kneels in the fresh dirt, pressing his hands to the cold stone that bore Tav's full name Tavilline V. Ancunin, and imagery of The Luxon. He traced his nimble fingers over the image, parts of him cursing the Lord of Light, part of himself pouring any faith he could into them because they were the only hope he had to see the other half of his soul again. He accepts condolences from all of his companions from the adventuring days and flies back to his palace. When he arrives he burns into a blind rage. When he comes back too he looks around and sees all of the damage he has wrought. Broken furniture, shattered glass, and torn fabrics surround him as he realizes he is heaving air into his lungs. Tears still streaming down his face and feeling a breeze on his skin through the torn holes in his funeral best. He locks the door of their- his… their bedroom and he lays in the too-large-for-just-him bed. 

Days pass before anyone sees him in person, and he lets the room be cleaned and brought back to its original state. He has sent word for his workers to send for Wyll, Blade of Avernus to take his place in court. Wyll is the first person to see him since the funeral. They sit in silence for hours in Astarion’s office as he is stacking books and files in front of Wyll.

“I need to get away." Astarion states plainly. Refusing to make any kind of contact - physical, visual, emotional. He refuses any kind of attempt to connect.

“I understand." Wyll responds, knowing his friend is unwell. How could he not be?

“I don't know when I'll be back. Anything you need is here. Deeds, gold, keys, notes, and ledgers. Any decisions you make I will trust." He puts his hand firmly on Wyll’s shoulder, allowing himself this touch. An old friend. The only one he trusts right now. "take care of the Gate. But more importantly, please take care of her.” He whimpers, refusing to cry right now. 

"You have my word Astarion. Everything will be in order when you return.” Wyll places his hand over Astarions “Send word when you can. You have people here who care."

“I will." He nods and walks out the heavy doors. He gathers his old daggers her crossbow and his old armor and heads out of the palace. Unsure where he's going but he heads out of the gate.

Years pass, decades pass. He finds himself in adventure. He finds himself in years of vast nothing staring at the sky looking for something to tell him where to go. Eventually, his travels guide him back to Baldur’s gate. He tried to send letters or messages to Wyll monthly just to keep that contact. Baldur's gate continues in his absence, thriving under Wyll’s control. Wyll reassured Astarion that Tav's grave was well-manicured and pristine in his absence.

Astarion, dressed in a dark hooded cloak made his way to the cemetery. Making the walk to his and Tav's plots like something else was controlling his legs. As he approaches their plots he notices a young woman sitting at the base of a nearby tree sketching images of nearby headstones. He sighs and rolls his eyes why someone would willingly hang out in a cemetery is beyond me. He kneels between their headstones sweeping away dust from their names. He feels the tug in his chest returning. Some days the pain is muted, others it feels just as bad as the day he lost her. Today is somewhere in the middle. A dull ache in his chest sits there as his only company. “I'll find you Tav, I swear. I’ve never stopped looking. But I just wish I could have a hint." He sighs tracing her name with his thumb as he would her cheek. 

The darkness is cut through with a lamp accompanied by a stern voice. “Vira! Ta’Vira?! Are you in this bloody cemetery again?" An elderly man lumbers up the stairs as Astarion walks in the opposite direction, still listening, his interest piqued at the conversation. 

“Yes." The woman sighs, pushing her deep black hair behind her ears. “I just can't get this sketch right, so I need to be near the engraving."

“I will never understand your obsession with the first light." The man chortles, helping her to her feet “It's not like the woman buried there will answer any of your questions." 

“I know daddy." She sighs again “but I feel comfortable sitting with her. I can tell she was a peaceful person. I just feel drawn to her.”

“She was one of the heroes that saved our city all those years ago, Vira. She was a pillar of peace. If you feel a connection to her, I suppose there are worse things you could find comfort in. But you need to get to bed to open the shop in the morning.” He ushers her away into a nearby building, a bookstore. 

Astarion listens to their conversation until they are out of earshot. He leans down to Tav's headstone, kissing the smooth stone. “I love you more.” He pats the stone and walks quickly to the palace. He walks past the guards, who regard him with warmth welcoming him home. Ready to ask where Wyll was he heard a familiar voice from down the hall “Had I known you were coming back I would have made myself more presentable" Wyll joked gesturing to his bedtime clothes "Welcome back my friend.” he offered his hand to shake.

Astarion hesitantly accepts the gesture, he’s made a habit of not having physical contact with anyone. This is the first he's felt in decades. "It's just where I was led” he shrugs "It seems you are doing well.” he forces through a smile.

"Everything in the gate has been just fine in your absence, I only hope I was able to hold things to your standards. But enough about business for the night, let's get you something to drink and we can catch up before business.” 

Astarion shrugs and waves away the notion “I'm full. 'm just honestly looking forward to sleeping in a real bed." He pushes his hands into the small of his back to stretch “though I do have a few questions if you'd indulge me.”

Wyll sets himself in a black velvet chair and gestures to a matching one opposite a small table. “You have my undivided attention friend." Astarion asks several questions in rapid succession. Who runs that bookstore by the cemetery? What do you think about the Lord of Light? What has the court said about my absence? Do you think Tav is out there somewhere? “Quite the array of questions." Wyll hums. “Tav certainly believed that she would be. And with faith that strong who's to say she's not." 

Astarion studies Wyll’s face listening for more answers to his questions. “The court murmured for a while about me being in your place but when I threatened to recall you from your sabbatical they quieted quickly.” Wyll chuckled remembering the days he spent threatening to send for Astarion to return. Nobody on the court dared to want that after what he had been through and in the manner he left. 

Astarion nods happily with those answers. “And the bookstore… “ Wyll pauses thinking what store he means "Just an old man and his daughter, recently moved back to the Gate. They have made a bit of a stir in the city for selling any and all religious texts, not everyone is thrilled about Bhaals teachings shelved next to the oak fathers but they seem to be doing well for themselves.” Wyll looks to his vampire friend "an odd interest for your first night home I must say.”

"The daughter I assume, was hanging out by Tav's plot when I visited before coming here. They just caught my interest.” He shakes his head implying that it wasn't anything major.

"She's probably intrigued by the engraving on her marker. It's the only one like it in the whole cemetery.” Wyll offers an explanation. 

"Probably.” Astarion responds but feels himself drifting miles away. "thanks Wyll. Do you think you still have a few days in you before I fully come back?”

"Of course, I'm just happy to have you back.” Wyll nods as Astarion retires to his and Tav's room.

[angelsanarchy]

Glass Houses: Jack Thurlow x Y/N Series CH 16 -> CH 17

Tagging: @roryculkinluvr @thatsthewrongwallcraig @icarus-star @cc-luvr @madamemaximoff06 @shady-the-simp @quicksilversg1rl @s-0lar @kristennero-wallacewellsver @ophelialaufey @mayathepsychic1999 @x-prettyboy-x @rorylover71

Jack knew he had to come clean to Dr. Carty about what he did the other night. He was surprisingly not as pissed as he would have expected.

"Jack, if your side effects were this bad then you should have told me. I will send a few new prescriptions to the pharmacy but I want you to start making notes of the side effects every day. We have to figure out a better way for you to get the things you need without wrecking your system." Dr. Carty pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You're lucky she checked on you when she did. You could have died." He scolded softly and Jack nodded his head.

"I know. I guess if I'm going to have a guardian angel, it's probably a good thing she's a nurse that lives next door." Jack could see that Dr. Carty wasn't impressed with the humor.

"You should consider adding her as an emergency contact in the event you decide you want to get a little fast and loose with your medications again." He peered over his glasses and Jack scrunched his face.

"I don't think we're there just yet." Jack didn't want to burden Y/n with so much of his shit so soon. He wanted to build up a connection before she had to be a part of all his demons.

They talked for almost an extra hour, discussing new medications, what they're supposed to do and some of the side effects. Jack made sure to make a list to ask Y/n about the next time he saw her which turned out to be at around 9:30 that night. He saw her taking her evening walk as he sat on the porch reading through googles best medication side effects. He sat the computer down and jogged towards her.

"Hey!" She jumped making him laugh.

"Sorry, you scared me." She pulled her headphones out and pocketed them as he started walking next to her.

"You're looking a lot better. How are you feeling?" Y/n she asked as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I'm feeling a lot better thanks to you. I just wanted to apologize again-"

"Jack please. I'm just glad I was able to get to you in time. I highly suggest switching to weed if you need something to knock you out but that's just my medical opinion." She smiled at him.

"I finally talked to my Doc about the medicine change. I made a list of all the ones he's changing up just in case you want to give an opinion on that too." Jack pulled the list out and she laughed.

"Are you comfortable sharing that with me? I mean you can just tell me about the side effects when they hit. You don't have to-"

"I trust you." Jack pressed and she took the slip of paper. She nodded at the names and handed it back to him.

"These are some good alternatives. I would keep an eye out for dry mouth with this one. They make tabs to put under your tongue if it gets too annoying." Jack smiled at the recommendation.

"Who takes care of you if you're taking care of everyone else?" Jack asked curiously.

"Oh I've taken care of myself since I was young. I don't require a lot of care anyway. You'll be shocked to hear I am insanely boring." She lowered her voice.

"I don't believe that for one second. I'm sure you've got a wild night life that no one knows about. Maybe a secret second job at a club where you can dance in scantly clad clothes to get your kicks." Jack teased.

"So you think I'm a nurse by day and a stripper by night?" She laughed.

"I barely have enough energy to wash my hair let alone change out of scrubs to find some upper body to swing around a pole. Plus I have terrible knees." Jack laughed as she tried to show off a squat and winced.

"Okay so no secret double life. How about hobbies? What do you like to do when you aren't working or taking care of your mom and crazy neighbor?" Jack watched her take a moment to actually think about it.

"I like to read. I like to build things with my hands. I love to paint." Jack let out a belly laugh.

"Well shit why didn't you say that? I have tons of house that needs painting!" Jack gestured over his shoulder towards the house and she shook her head at him.

"I like landscape painting, not free manual labor." She pointed out.

"Maybe you could do a painting for me? My dad was an artist. He has this drawing of the house that kind of got wrecked during the clean out. I would love to get it redone. I'll even pay you for it." Jack offered.

"You don't have to pay me. I'm not an artist. I just like to paint." She blushed. This was kind of the first time Jack had seen a more vulnerable side of Y/n. She always seemed confident in how she presented herself. As a nurse, as a daughter, as a care taker.

"What about you? I think you mentioned you like to write?" Y/n remembered.

"Yeah I'm working on a book about my life...kind of. Changing the names to protect the guilty I suppose." Jack rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"I'm sure it'll be great. The horror stories of our lives always make for believable fiction. Most people don't think there are people who actually struggle as writers portray." She paused in front of the front gate and Jack stopped walking.

"Maybe...you could read some of what I have? Let me know how believable it is?" Jack asked nervously earning a sweet smile.

"I would love that, Jack." Jack now felt more anxious than before knowing she might hate his writing or his life story.

"I'm glad you're feeling better. Please call me if you start to feel your breathing getting weird. I'm still worried you're going to have after effects." Y/n touched his arm and he nodded.

"I'm feeling better, I promise but I will call you if anything feels off." Jack promised.

"You can call me too if you need anything...or you know, you just want to talk." Jack took a step further and Y/n laughed.

"You want to talk about all the neighborhood gossip? Did you see Sharon's new gardening outfit? Absolutely scandalous." She teased.

"If Sharon's the one with the red hair and huge tits then yes, absolutely scandalous." Jack's smirk made Y/n hit his chest with the back of her hand.

"Ew Jack! Stop jerking off to the neighbors!" She pushed her way through the gate and Jack threw his hands up.

"What!? You can't just expect me to not take advantage of free tits!? I'm a man!" He defended.

"Now you're hurting my feelings. I thought I was special." She put her hands over her heart.

"You are. You still hold the top spot of best tits in town." Jack admitted. Y/n smiled so brightly her cheeks were blushed as she shook her head.

"Goodnight Jack." She waved over her shoulder and Jack turned back to the road to walk himself home. He took a breath he didn't know he had been holding, worried things would have changed between them. He was ready to make a different kind of connection with Y/n. He just hoped she felt the same way.

[kissorkill16]

Joining Forces: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: The truth about Lucy Yi's death.

Quentin Gershowitz was just about to get in his car before someone called out to him.

"Hey, you!"

He looked through the rear view mirror and saw that it was a kid with brown hair, teal shirt, brown shorts, and goggles. He got out of his car and went over to the kid.

"First of all, kid. My name isn't "Hey, you!", it's Quentin. See? Says it right here on my name tag.", said Quentin as he pointed to his name tag. "And you are...?"

"Nicky.", said the kid. "My name is Nicky."

Quentin's eyes widened. "Wait a minute, I recognize you.", he said, "My assistant has a crush on you, doesn't she? She has a picture of you."

Nicky was speechless for a moment, then he shook his head. "Nevermind. Who told you about Lucy Yi?"

The journalist tapped his chin as he thought about it, "I don't really remember, probably someone at the banner. Why?"

"Because whoever told you that Mr. Peterson followed her into the Fear Room fun house and she was never seen again is a bullshit liar."

Quentin's eyes widened once again, "Hey, watch your language.", then he looked around. "Come with me."

Nicky followed Quentin into his van and they shut the door.

"Now what's this about Lucy Yi's story being fake?", asked Quentin.

Nicky looked down at his shoes, "She's not missing, she didn't go into the Fear Room.", he said.

Quentin knew it was risky listening to a kid who probably doesn't even know anything about these sorts of things, but he wasn't the type of adult who didn't listen to kids when they tried to talk. So maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to hear him out. "Alright, kid. What do you think happened to Lucy?"

Nicky reached into his pocket and pulled out a long forgotten newspaper article and showed it to Quentin.

7 YEAR OLD GIRL, LUCY YI, VICTIM OF ROTTEN CORE ROLLERCOASTER

"It was supposed to be the best day ever for all of us.", said Nicky, "I've never been to an amusement park before, and all of my friends wanted to make sure I had the best time. Then when Rotten Core was finally announced, we sat together. The ride was out of control and started running too fast, and the carts just flew off the tracks and landed in the woods. ...Lucy was the only one who didn't survive."

Quentin's eyes widened for a third time. "Oh my God."

"Everyone was completely distraught. Her parents, her friends, me, and everyone else in town who knew Lucy.", said Nicky, his voice turning emotionless.

"How do you even know this, kid?"

Nicky looked at Quentin directly in the eye, "Because she was one of my best friends.", he said. "I remember crying a river at her funeral, and when I heard that people were making up a story about her going into the Fear Room, I was beyond pissed. They know how she died, so why was everyone trying to cover it up?"

The journalist put a hand on the boy's shoulder, "I guess some people just don't want to accept the truth.", he said. "Especially when it comes to death."

"Psh, that's no excuse."

Nicky got out of the car, but not before giving Quentin one final glance. "Whoever you're getting your information from is not to be trusted, you need real leads, the real story, and a real source.", he said. He closed the door of the van and walked away.

Meanwhile, Quentin was still reading the article, still so taken by surprise that the story he was told about Lucy's disappearance was nothing but a lie.

Maybe he did need to join forces with these kids, they seem to know more about this town than he thought.