#me: cannot make a decision to save my life

[sammakesart]

In Which the Dread Wolf Is Saved By, of All Things, Love.

The blade slices into his palm, blood seeping from the wound and soaking into the leather of his glove. A thought emerges as she watches him: It is the same hand that once held the mark on her own palm. He squeezes his fist, the blood dripping down onto the stone. 

“My life force now sustains the Veil.”

His eyes find hers, a brief moment as their gazes meet and hold. An eternity, over too soon. 

“With every breath I take, I will protect the innocent from my past failures.”

Her gaze falls to his fist, and her heart aches. It is done.

“The Titan’s dreams are mad from their imprisonment. I cannot kill the blight, but I can help soothe its anger.”

She watches as he looks down to the dagger, then extends it to Rook.

“I will go,” he says. His eyes meet hers once more as he speaks his last words. To her. For her. “And seek atonement.”

He tears his gaze away, and she watches as he turns, his steps sure and steady as he walks toward the tear in the sky.

They are running out of time.

It is then she makes her decision, though it was no decision at all. She knew—she has always known—what she would do given this choice. 

“But you do not have to go alone.”

He had stopped before she spoke, perhaps hearing the fall of her steps, perhaps in the hope of one final goodbye. He turns as she finishes her declaration, his lips parted in surprise, but he clasps her hands as she stretches them towards him. His grip trembles ever so slightly. She notices the shine in his eyes as tears well, but he does not deny her. He only offers her a warning. It is the only thing he can offer her. 

“Where I am going is terrible.”

She smiles, shakes her shake. 

“It won’t be terrible if you’re with me. We make this journey together. Always.”

The words are reminiscent of the last verse of Dalish wedding vows. She wonders if he catches the significance, but by the way his grip tightens, she suspects he understands. 

She leans in, but then stops, waiting for him to close the last stretch of space between them. His lips meet hers without hesitation, cracked and bloody as they are. She doesn’t care. He tastes of iron and ash, and yet still of him. 

His mouth moves against hers, and she wishes to wrap her arms around him, to pull him close, but she fears causing him any further pain. She has seen the wounds on his face, saw him clutching at his right side as he ascended the steps before she crossed the threshold. She can only imagine the wounds hidden beneath his battered armor. She had glimpsed the state of his dread wolf as it tore the throat out of Elgar’nan’s archdemon. 

There will be time for such things later, after he has rested and healed. Time will never be something they are in want of now.

***

He savors her for as long as he dares, then presses his lips firmly against hers before pulling away. His mouth curves into a soft smile. Just for her. 

There is no force—divine or otherwise—that can part him from her now. Not unless she wishes it.

He holds her gaze for one more moment, the burn of tears still threatening to spill sting his eyes. But he blinks them away quickly, and glances back at Rook. 

“Thank you, Rook.”

Then his eyes fall back to her. He cannot get enough. 

He is not unaware that Rook had to have had a part to play in this once-thought impossible reunion. 

There will never be words or action enough to show his gratitude, especially to someone he has so gravely wronged. And yet, they still have orchestrated the return of his heart to him. A gift he knows he does not deserve, but he will endeavor to earn. 

He squeezes her hands once more—one flesh, one formed—and turns, walking towards the last remaining tear in the Veil. He crosses his hands before him to keep from reaching out, reaching back to hold her to him. She must make this choice freely. 

He doesn’t even dare look, afraid if he does, he will find no one and nothing. That these last few minutes have all been a dream conjured by his addled mind and his bone-deep exhaustion—for what else could it be but a dream? That, after all this time, after everything he’s done, she would seek him out once more. That she would forgive him. Love him still. Choose to be with him, despite where he must go. 

There is a moment where he fears she has changed her mind, or he was correct in his first assumption that she was never here at all. His chest tightens… and then releases as he feels her hand rest upon his shoulder. She is here. She is real. 

With the last ounce of strength he has, he wraps them in his magic and spirits them into the Fade, leaving her world behind. Perhaps for good. 

He took away her ability to choose once, many years ago, when she first asked to join him while standing in the Crossroads. It had torn him in two to deny her, but he knew then that he could not allow her to follow the path he had to tread. Could not allow it to twist her hope into despair, like his own purpose had been twisted long ago. 

For so long, his life has only been duty and destruction. He is unsure of how to be anything else.

When he finds himself once again in the prison of his own making, his knees give out from under him. The weight of the last few hours, few weeks, few years, dragging him to the hard unforgiving stone of his regrets. But this time, he is not alone. 

She kneels before him, carefully cradling his face in her palm, her skin so warm against his. “Vhenan,” she whispers as her thumb strokes lightly over his cheek, and it takes him a moment to realize he is crying, truly crying. The tears that had threatened to fall when he first took her hands in his have now been set free. He crumples into her lap, his forehead pressed the against her stomach as she gently strokes his head and down his back, offering words of comfort, her voice thick with her own tears. She has saved him. He has doomed her. 

The weight of that realization is enough to crush him to dust. He pulls back, eyes searching hers. His hands shake as he reaches up to hold her face. Perhaps there is still time…

“These are my burdens to bare,” he rasps. “I cannot ask you to carry them with me.” 

“You do not have to, vhenan.” She holds his hand to her cheek. “I chose this. Freely. Just as I chose you.”

She presses a kiss to the heel of his hand, the one still wet with his blood. “Being with you is no burden, Solas, not to me. It is a joy.”

Their foreheads meet, pressed together as they once again take each other’s hands.

She is here. She is real. He still cannot believe it.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.”

Then he says the words she had gifted him, a vow he will hold sacred for as long as they both shall live. 

“Vir shiral malasa. Bellanaris.”

[katebeckets]

if anyone cares for a follow up lmao I'll probably do #otprecinct AND ryan & espo

[catcze]

HII ITS THE ANON WHO SAID WRIO IS LIKE FLYNN RIDER LMAOO I SUPPORT ALL BRAINROT RELATING TO THIEF WRIO 🤭🤭 i think him and a sheltered royal reader would be very like. reader falls first wrio falls harder LMAO— u got me thinking about it now what can I do 💔

HI BABYY WELCOME BACK ♡♡

Thanks for supporting my brainrot LMAOOO it literally started bc of u HAHAA /pos

Now let me get u thinking about it more 👀👀👀👀👀👀

In a Fantasy AU vaguely inspired by tangled (I say vaguely bc it's got some elements, but not all of them yk?) Wriothesley is a master thief, who always snags whatever he sets his mind on. You, on the other hand, are the only child of the king and queen, and the sole heir to the throne. You're kept strictly within the castle and forbidden from leaving since you had been kidnapped once as a child, and your parents fear that happening to you again. You used to despise it, being locked up, but over the years you've grown to accept it (not necessarily like it, you've just stopped trying to escape the castle every so often.)

Now, Wriothesley plans to steal your crown, the heir's crown to the kingdom, as his biggest heist yet. So he sneaks past the guards one night, gets into the palace and even manages to sneak up to your room. He's so close— so close!— to getting his hands on the heir's crown, but there's one thing that he overlooks. Because no one in the kingdom has seen you, and information on you is so limited, there's no way for him to have known that you possess a dendro vision. So taking him by surprise, you manage to knock him out and tie him up in vines and flowers. When he wakes up, you manage to broker a deal with him: He wants your crown, right? Well, you have no use for the thing. Not really. To you, it's just a reminder that you're destined to be trapped and lonely for the rest of your life. So you'll give it to him— on the condition that he takes you to see the lantern rite festival in the nearby kingdom of Liyue.

And though its far, though his pride stings at being caught by some recluse of a royal, what choice does he really have? Refuse, and be caught by the guards? Not a chance. So he agrees to your terms and sneaks you out of the tower and leads you into town, where you see the world for the first time.

From there, it's a whole journey navigating from Fontaine to Liyue with you— but you get there just in the nick of time for the lantern rite to start. He brings you around, lets you sample food with glittering eyes, lets you buy fabrics and nicknacks, and pays with his own money. Wriothesley even manages to rent out a quaint pagoda with a balcony, where you can watch the festivities and the lanterns glow across the harbour. There, he basks along the railing with you, eating skewers and fried rice, letting the music and cheer put him at ease. As he talks to you, listens to you ramble on and on about how beautiful the place is and how you'd love to come back one day, Wriothesley finds that he no longer cares about getting his hands on that crown. All he cares about now is the flush on his face and the realization that somewhere, across the way from Fontaine to Liyue, you had managed to steal his heart.

[haemey]

Silly Game Time: If you had to pick one, would you rather have fangs or claws?

Alright, Imma take this way too seriously for a moment...

Fangs are neat and easier to hide, especially if you're like me and you barely open your mouth to speak.

Claws sound practical for opening stuff, but they'd make it way too hard to type or do other small things. Unless they're retractable?

Are the fangs retractable?

Is this a question of vampire or werewolf?

Because werewolf. I may be a couch potato, but I do like the sun. And food. And being awake during the day. I can sacrifice one night a month for that. Full moons are neat, anyway. There's a nice forest close to where I live, too. Could go roaming around there...

Wait, what were we talking about?

[lonelychicago]

do you have a favourite taylor swift song?

oh gosh that's a hard question. i love so many of her songs and my favorites vary depending on mood or the week tbh.

right now my favorites are you're on your own kid, right where you left me, new years day, the very first night, the 1, forever winter, message in a bottle, bigger than the whole sky and afterglow <333

[filet-o-feelings]

Happy Nice Ask Day!

What is your favorite fic you've written?

Thanks!

Um, I have officially published 60 fics (!!!) so this is really difficult! Of course, most of those are ficlets, but honestly some of those are my favorites.

I kinda want to say Library Boy, my current WIP just because it's fresh (even though I've been working on it since November of last year) and it's the longest thing I've ever written and I'm really proud of it, but you didn't ask what I'm the most proud of so I think I'm going to have to say the devil wears mid-range denim because I think it's unique but still very in character and I had so much fun writing it!

[hecksupremechips]

What’s a character you’ve felt most represented by as a marginalized person? Like you just kinda cry a bit and go "they’re like me!"

[rainywithachanceofstars]

[angeltism]

Well, I suppose I have a lot of options. Toast, Eggs, pancakes if I want to put in the effort of making batter, leftovers from dinner, rice, fruit; the list is quite well potentially endless, my dear. Since I don’t dislike any option, that’s why I decided to ask you!

Oooh, maybe some toast and eggs ? That's what I had for breakfast so I may be biased but it's a classic, I think. Some fruit sounds good too :0

[dream-launch]

[aces-and-angels]

verified by 90-ghost follow asmaa @asmaayyad & on instagram (asmaa_ayyad98)

moots/lovely lurkers- lend me your ears (or eyes- y'all get it) and allow asmaa to introduce herself in her own words:

"hello I hope my message reaches you well i am asmaa ayyad from gaza, specifically khan yunis, i am 25 years old, i am trying to save me and my family from the war of extermination that is happening now (a/n: asmaa graduated from the university of palestine in 2021 and went on to study/train to become a practicing lawyer) we lost our home, our friends and some of our relatives, I have also been living far away from my fiancé for two years, I cannot reach him because of the increase in the coordination price and the closure of the crossings and borders (a/n: asmaa lists feras_lbrahim in her insta bio as her fiancé) please i want you to help me by publishing for me and standing by my side, as i am now struggling alone to save an entire family i wanted to contact @/90-ghost but he does not respond to me (a/n: since asmaa sent me this message, 90-ghost has been able to get in touch/share her posts) i would be very grateful to you if you helped me"

asmaa's family consists of 8 members- all of whom led beautiful lives prior to the war. asmaa's older brother, dia, was looking forward to his own wedding. instead of experiencing such a joyous day, his life was shattered after his home was destroyed by the israeli army.

to lose a home- all your valuable possessions- your memories- in an instant is something that cannot be fully understood unless you've gone through it yourself. in asmaa's own words (read & share full post here):

"in addition to the pain, oppression and suffering that displacement causes us, there is a material aspect that no one talks about or mentions or mentions in the media. every place we move from to a new place requires transportation from 1,500 to 2,000 shekels... and despite this amount, you cannot transport all your belongings. this is in addition to the costs of setting up the tent again and trying to return what you lost of your things and belongings. displacement kills us more than death, it drains our health, our money and everything we own... displacement is another war that is harsher than this war of starvation and extermination... displacement is a hidden killer. how many people have been martyred because they do not have the price of displacement? the price that saves them from death! how many people have lost their dignity because of it?! oh god, have mercy on us and our situation 🙏💔"

asmaa's family has already lost so much- friends, loved ones, their cat, timur. they are living in a nightmare they cannot wake up from. the decision to evacuate is not an easy one to make nor is it one for the rest of us to scrutinize. it's what asmaa + her family have decided is the best path forward

please support my friend however you can-- the smallest actions can make the biggest impact

if all you can do is share- then share. follow asmaa to get the most up to date news regarding her family. tell someone you know about asmaa's story. allow others who may be able to contribute more find asmaa so her family may get to safety

and if you can give little more, please visit the link below 🖤

cw: photos of destroyed buildings + deceased cat (timur) included in the campaign

[kymerawrites]

How much it hurt standing right there, on the balcony of his two-story house, the thought of him getting married to another woman tomorrow was making your heart bleed. You leaned against the railing with a frown on your face, a glass of champagne in your hand and your eyes throwing daggers at the moon. Simon decided to invite all Task Force 141 for a drink the night before the big day, you could hear them all laughing and cheering downstairs in the living room, but you couldn’t even put a small smile on your lips.

You loved him and he loved you back, you thought things could still work between the two of you, he thought differently. He didn’t know how to show his love, his care, it hurt you and he knew it perfectly, that’s why he decided to break things off with you. And now? After one year you still haven’t moved on and now he was going to marry another woman. You heard someone clear his voice and immediately turned around, Simon was there with his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes staring deeply at yours, “shym.. Why are you here alone?” He asked, his tone holding a little sadness.

You let out a scoff before turning your gaze down towards the garden, watching a couple of butterflies landing perfectly on the grass, “because I’d rather not be around for this,” you muttered, the grip on your glass of champagne tightening. He sighed and walked closer to you, joining you in standing against the railing of the balcony and keeping a respectful distance.

“You’re invited, why would you not want to be here?” He asked with a raised eyebrow before letting his gaze drop on you. You rolled your eyes and drank half of the liquid from your glass before replying, “Because I don’t want to watch my ex-boyfriend getting married to another woman.” You murmured with bitterness in your tone.

“Even though we’re still colleagues, I cannot just act like I don’t care Simon..” I took a big chug of my wine before looking down to the grass

His eyes softened as he realized how you truly felt about the situation, he could blame nobody but himself. He was the stupid one. He let out another heavy sigh and leaned against the railing, his shoulders dropping and his body slightly falling forward, as if a weight was on his shoulders, “I know-“ he paused and closed his eyes before continuing, “but the decision has been taken.”

“Why mia… why her Simon what was so special about her that overshadowed me?”

“You want me to tell you why did I choose her?” He asked and you could just hear how tired and frustrated his voice was. You turned your head to look at him and saw how tired he looked, probably tired from hearing the same question for the past few weeks after he told you that he was going to marry her and not you, “yes,” you said in a stern voice, “why her and not me?”

Simon thought for a split second “Mia, she was someone who saved my life, kept me company while I was almost dying on that battlefield..and we just fell for eachother, I couldn’t let that eat me up.”

Your heart dropped as Simon spoke, he fell for her while you were waiting for him here. You felt a pang of jealousy and anger towards her just from hearing the words leaving his mouth. You turned your body fully towards him and narrowed your eyes at his face.

“You fell for her on the battlefield?” You asked in disbelief, “while I was here waiting and worrying for you?”

He slowly nodded his head. “You don’t understand, she kept me company while I was in my lowest point during those days on the battlefield, I-“ he paused and licked his lips as he remembered those days where he didn’t give a damn if he lived or died and he was close to death so many times, yet Mia was there, taking care of him and talking to him as he just laid there, unable to speak or move.

Your eyes widened in shock and slight anger. “You don’t think I understood that?” You exclaimed, “Simon I was there for you too, I was texting you, calling you, worrying about your state every night!” You paused as you felt your eyes starting to heat “I was praying that you’d come back safely, that you’d come back home to me, but-“ you bit the inside of your cheek and took a deep breath as you tried not to yell at him, “but no- Instead you fell in love with another woman.”

He could basically hear your voice breaking as you spoke and his heart ached every second. “I know-“ he tried to speak up, but you didn’t let him, the last drop of rage finally hit you and you snapped at him.

“You know? Then why!? Why didn’t you choose me? Didn’t you love me like you love her!? Didn’t you care for me like you care for her!?” You yelled at him, not being able to hold your emotions back now.

“Of course I did! You know I did!“ He yelled back as he lifted his head and clenched his jaw, his hazel eyes staring deeply into yours. You looked straight into his eyes and felt a tear run down your cheek, “Then why?” You asked in a weak voice, “if you loved me and cared about me why didn’t you choose me instead?”

Another sigh escaped his lips and he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Because it’s different with her!“ He yelled back and he saw how another tear fell from your eye. He was hurting you, but he didn’t know how to explain you why it was different, “I don’t know how to explain” he spoke in a much calmer tone and leaned against the railing again, “she’s just different..”

I nodded “ah yes, because she never made mistakes, she was soft, loving and caring..” I paused “and I always did the opposite. Because I am harsh, an ex maffia member, someone who was obsessed with the thrill of life or death, money..” I looked at him angrily “is that the reason?”

Simon stayed silent for a few moments, thinking about your words. He knew that what you were saying was completely true, you have never been the soft or gentle type of woman, you could never love him as fiercely as Mia did. He lowered his gaze to his feet for a second and bit his lower lip before replying. “It is part of the reason-“

Your heart shattered even more as he confirmed your thoughts. “That’s exactly why isn’t it?“ You said in an almost inaudible whisper. “She loves you like a real lover should do.. while I do the opposite..” you muttered almost to yourself.

You chuckled humorlessly and shook your head, looking up at the night sky to hold your tears from falling down your face. “And the other reasons..?” You whispered, knowing you were stepping into a minefield.

He took a deep breath and let it out before answering your question. “It’s a.. lot of reasons actually.” He said in a much calmer voice than before. He could see and hear the pain in your voice and it made him want to comfort you, but he couldn’t do that. Not anymore. Not after everything.

“Then name them.“ You looked at him again, holding back all the emotions that were swirling in your brain, “tell me all the reasons that made you fall out of love for me and fall in love with her.”

He grunted and closed his eyes for a second before looking into your eyes again “first reason, the one you already guessed, is her nature. She’s sweet, gentle, kind, loving, she takes care of me when I need it.” He said in a low voice, his eyes locked into yours.

“Second,” he paused as he leaned forward and his body was now facing you fully, “she knows when to stop arguing and when to give in, she’s not stubborn like you.” He said without thinking and winced slightly.

He knew that the next reasons were going to rip you apart, that’s why he was taking time to give the perfect answer. “She’s not some mobster and a con.” He said in a cold tone as he looked up at you again.

Your eyes widened in shock when he spoke, you couldn’t believe that part of the reason was the fact that you were once a mafia member. “You-“ you spoke in a weak voice “you’re using my past as a reason?” You let out a humorless chuckle and shake your head.

“Don’t act surprised,” he said in a dry tone “you’re a criminal. A con woman and now an ex mobster.” He crossed his arms over his chest and slightly lifted his chin, staring into your eyes with a blank expression, “what do you expect?”

His cold words and expression felt like daggers into your heart and you closed your eyes momentarily to hold back your tears. “I know what I was, but I never expected you to use it against me.” You said in a quiet voice.

“You know how I was forced in that and the horrific situations I experienced and needed to endure..”

He bit his lip and his body tensed when you spoke about your past, he remembered hearing your stories more than once. He knew it was cruel to use that against you, but he just wanted you to understand, “Yes I do..” he said in a serious and firm voice “and that’s another part of the problem.”

“I don’t want to hear it anymore Simon… I couldn’t get over you because I love you.. or well loved you.” A tear welled up in my eye “you just proved me why I should not even want to speak to you again.”

He clenched his jaw when he saw the tear rolling down your face and closed his eyes tightly. He wanted to reach over and wipe the tear off your face, his hands were itching to feel your skin again, but he knew he couldn’t touch you. This was already too painful for both of you. He looked at you again and saw how much pain you were in. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said in a low tone, “I just wanted you to understand..”

“Understand your bullshit reasons to marry another woman,” you whispered and wiped the tear off your face with the back of your hand. You couldn’t take this anymore, hearing him give you so many reasons why he won’t choose you was slowly killing you.

He flinched slightly when you cursed, he also couldn’t stand seeing you in pain like that. “Those same bullshit reasons are the ones I’m choosing her over YOU!“ He snapped. He was losing control of his emotions hearing you speak and seeing your hurting expression.

“Then why are you still trying to explain them to me?” You spoke, feeling your anger rise as well, getting tired of his attitude. “You already chose her, you’re going to marry her tomorrow, then why are you wasting your time to explain me something you shouldn’t?!”

He let out a scoff and leaned more towards you, “Because I don’t want you to think that I’m only doing this out of spite! I’m in love with her okay?! And I’m going to marry her because I want to, I want to spent the rest of my life with her!” He yelled at you, letting out all his bottled up emotions.

I just stayed silent and looked at the stars in the sky before turning my face back to him “then I wish you well in live Simon.” And I walked downstairs towards the door

His heart sank when you walked away like that, you just stopped fighting, you just gave up. “That’s it?” He said in disbelief before he started walking after you, closing the distance between the two of you in a few strong steps. He grabbed your arm and stopped you from walking.

He turned you around so that you would be facing him and held your arm firmly to prevent you from walking away from him. He stared into your eyes as he spoke, his voice low. “That’s it?” he repeated, “you’re just leaving? Not even going to fight for me?”

You felt like your emotions were about to explode anytime now, he had no right to speak like that. “What the hell do you want me to do?!” You almost shouted, looking him straight in the eyes, “what more am I supposed to say!? You don’t want me, you chose another woman! I’m not going to fight when it’s already lost.”

He tightened his jaw and his grip on your arm. He didn’t know why he was so upset when you said those words. He should’ve been happy that you gave up, but he wanted to see the feisty woman that never surrender, he wanted you to fight for him. But the words you were saying to him made his heart ache. You were giving up on him, you just accepted that he was marrying another woman.

His expression softened when he saw more tears in your eyes and he slowly loosened his grip on your arm, holding it gently now. He took a deep breath and looked into your eyes, his voice calm. “Say something. Yell at me, tell me I’m a bastard, that you hate me. Anything.”

You inhaled a shaky breath and tried to hold back your tears. Seeing him like this made your heart ache as well, but you knew you had to be strong, “What for? Do you want me to humiliate myself and beg you to pick me? Beg you that you will see how much I love you?”

“Well guess what Simon, I want you to thrive in your upcoming marriage and I don’t want to be seen as an obstacle, I don’t want to see you again Simon..” and I walked out the door and shut it close

And at that moment I felt like I lost myself, lost control. I called Shepard to surrender myself from the army and called an old friend of mine.

I called Amanda “shym is that really you? Girl we’ve missed you so much!”

Amanda’s excited tone on the other side of the phone made your heart clench slightly, you missed your old friend. A lot.

“How is angels palace doing Amanda? I want to come back. I miss everyone..”

“Oh we’re all good but we all miss your presence!” Amanda said in a cheerful tone “Come back here you crazy bitch, we all miss our queen.”

I smiled as tears welled up in my eyes again “so my dad isn’t angry at me leaving him?”

“Yeah he’s still sulking about it“ said Amanda before bursting into laughter “it’s kinda funny whenever someone mentions you, he just puffs like an angry child. But I know and everyone knows that secretly he’s missing your smartass comebacks.”

“And most of all his backbone, you were thriving and making us a lot of money, you need to come back.. Sol.”

A chuckle escaped your lips when she used your old name, nobody called you like that anymore. “Stop it, you’re making me miss that place even more. I swear to God if I get home and I don’t see my favorite drink at the bar I’m going to strangle your ass.”

“My flight leaves at 9 AM, I’ll see you around 7 PM in the evening alright?”

“Perfect, just be prepared to drink tons of my good old cocktails.” Amanda said and you could sense the excitement in her voice.

I drove home and instantly packed all my belongings and my cat, couldn’t leave the poor guy behind. I left my keys in the plant pot and put a note for my tenant that I payed last month rent and I’ve moved out.

After everything was in your bags and the car, you sat down in the driver’s seat and drove straight to the airport. You were already excited to see your old home again and meet your old friends, but your heart still ached from the whole Simon situation.

You checked in your bag and sat down in the waiting area for your flight. People were all around you, walking, chatting, all seemed normal. But you felt heavy and tired, you couldn’t get Simon’s face out of your head. You closed your eyes to rest for a moment.

You were awakened by the announcement on the speakers that your flight was about to start boarding up. You slowly opened your eyes and stood up from your sit, grabbing your bags. You slowly made your way to the boarding desk, showing the worker your ticket before making your way onto the plane.

Time to go back to bogota..

You made your way to your seat at the plane and strapped the seatbelt around your waist. You inhaled a deep breath and closed your eyes for a moment, trying not to think about Simon.

‘He’s marrying that stuck up doctor today, I hope everything goes well for them’ I thought

Even thinking that made your heart ache. You hated the thought of him marrying another woman. You took a deep breath and took out your headphones, deciding to play some music to distract yourself.

The flight seemed long, but at least the loud music was helping you to distract from your thoughts. You were listening to some of your favorite songs when the pilot announced your arrival to Bogota.

Back in London it was Simon, trying to call you multiple times since yesterday

He sat alone in his kitchen with his head resting on his crossed forearms. He hasn’t slept and he had bags under his eyes. He picked his phone up again and called your number, hoping that this time you would answer.

He tapped his foot on the floor anxiously and held his breath, listening to the beeping. But then he heard your voicemail again, causing his expression to tense up. He growled in irritation and was about to throw the phone but he quickly stopped himself and called your number again.

He impatiently waited for your voice but heard your voicemail again. He let out another loud sigh and leaned against his chair, covering his face with one of his hands. He was getting fed up, why weren’t you answering?

He dropped his hands from his face and looked at Soap who was grinning widely. He let out a scoff and rolled his eyes with annoyance, “Yeah I’m marrying her today, not even a bloody congratulations?”

Soap scoffed as well and shook his head, “I wouldn’t compliment your choice mate and you know that” he said and sat down next to him, patting his shoulder “are you actually going through with this?”

He leaned back in his seat and avoided eye contact with Soap, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Why wouldn’t I?” He asked in a rough tone, “she’s the one I’m marrying in a couple of hours remember?”

Soap narrowed his eyes at him “because you haven’t slept at all, and you haven’t even spoken to your fiancé since yesterday” he said in a suspicious tone, he knew his friend well and knew that something was wrong.

He averted his gaze from Soap and clenched his jaw. He hadn’t spoken to her, he had called her multiple times but you weren’t answering him, which irritated him even more. He hated the fact that he was having second thoughts and he hated the fact that you still had such an effect on him. “I’m just stressed about the whole marriage situation.” He lied.

Soap chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest, “You, stressed? You’re one of the most calm and composed guys I know” he said in a disbelieving tone, he knew he was hiding something.

He let out a loud scoff and finally looked up at Soap, his expression still tense “even I can get stressed sometimes Soap. Can you just cut me some slack for now?”

Soap raised his hands in defense and gave him a smirk, “Alright mate settle down, was just messing with you” he said and gave him a playful pat on his shoulder “but seriously, are you alright?”

He inhaled a shaky breath and leaned his head back to rest on his chair. He had never opened up to anyone about something like that before. But Soap was his close friend and he trusted him the most out of everyone. He let out a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling “No, I’m not.” He admitted slowly.

“It’s shym.” He said bluntly

Soap’s eyebrows knotted together in confusion “shym? What about her?” He asked in disbelief.

He let out a tired exhale and closed his eyes. He ran his fingers through his hair before looking at Soap “She just won’t leave my mind, every time I try to stop thinking about her she’s still there” he admitted, he felt relieved that he was finally telling someone about how he felt, especially Soap who was his best friend.

“You still love shym don’t you..” he said firmly

He stayed silent for a moment, his expression tense. He slowly looked up at Soap and nodded “yeah, I still love her, more than anyone in the world” he admitted in a firm tone “I never stopped loving her.”

Soap raised his eyebrows in surprise. Out of all the possibilities of why his friend was so distracted, he didn’t expect his to say that. “Then why are you marrying another woman?” He asked in disbelief.

Simon looked at soap “because I also love Mia, a lot.. and she’s a better option.”

Soap let out a scoff and rolled his eyes, “How the hell is she a better option? Mate, you’re marrying a woman that you don’t even love that much, instead of the woman you truly love, do you even hear yourself right now?”

He looked away and clenched his jaw stubbornly “Mia is everything I need. She doesn’t distract me with her stupidity, she actually supports me and is there for me. She’s everything I need” he said as he tried to convince himself it was the truth.

Soap rolled his eyes and stood up from his chair, “That’s such bullshit mate and you know it.” He said in an annoyed tone, “You can’t marry a woman that’s not the one that you truly love. Can’t you just pull your head out of your ass and admit that you love shym?”

“It’s already too late, shym left with no trace.. I said some hurtful stuff yesterday and no one can find her now..”

Soap’s eyes widened in surprise and his heart ached for his friend. He didn’t want to believe that it was already too late. He walked back towards him and placed his hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze “She can’t have disappeared like that, she must be somewhere..”

And now i returned to the hotel a coverup for a secret organization that trades and smuggles drugs and other stuff.

As you walked into the palace you saw many people who were close to your family or that you had done business with before. They all looked surprised but somewhat happy to see that you had returned. As soon as your father saw you, he exclaimed and spread his arms wide open before pulling you into a tight and emotional embrace.

“Family! My backbone has returned!”

All the people in the room clapped and cheered as you appeared. Your father kept his arm around your shoulders and held you close to him as he spoke out to everyone in the room. “My daughter has finally returned” he said in a proud tone, “I missed her so much, I cannot believe that she has returned to us, my family is finally reunited once more!”

PART 2 SOON

[hoshinasblade]

second best |1| hoshina soshiro

PART 1 | PART 2 | BONUS: PART THREE

DISCLAIMER: this fic has a detail that hasn't been mentioned in the anime yet. it isn't a big give-away but if you are sensitive about that kind of thing, please do not proceed. pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader genre: slight angst, comfort, childhood friends to lovers, a bit of that miscommunication trope snippet: hoshina soshiro always ranks second at everything in his life. god forbid he falls behind in the bid for your heart too. word count: 3K trigger warnings: author's note: this fic has two parts - part 2 will be posted a week from today :) likes, replies, and reblogs are always appreciated but please do not repost or steal my writings. this is quite long, but i gotta make you guys work for it. i have also set up a taglist for the second part and the other fics or drabbles, please sign up if you wanna be tagged! as always, feel free to let me know what you think or give me a prompt by sending me an ask here!

hoshina soshiro can claim with extreme conviction that he rarely regrets the decisions he has made so far in his life.

from the time he has set his sights on taking the aptitude exam necessary to be recruited in the anti-kaiju defense force, to following captain ashiro mina to support her as the vice-captain of the third division, to religiously adhering to his daily routine of working out even during his off days so he can stay in peak condition - everything he's done is driven by soshiro's lone motivation: to rise and come on top.  

unfortunately, as he sees you walking in the hallway of the training building with his brother, soshiro realises that this is one of those rare occurrences where he hopes he gets a do-over.

it was barely 6 in the afternoon so there was still light from outside; the rays of the setting sun penetrating the transparent windowpanes cast an orange glow to the furniture in soshiro's office. it made him remember how he used to always be assigned as the student to clean the classroom back in junior high school: he would sweep first then rearrange the chairs before closing the windows and drawing down the curtains. he would rush up to the rooftop, in time to watch the sun dip below the horizon. he would stay for a few precious minutes, dreaming of a chance to get out of their town. he was fifteen then.

soshiro shook his head a bit. he decided that today - of all days - will not be when he will have a trip down memory lane. yes, despite the number of times he would get reminded of his past today, he refuses to get sidetracked.

the floor is eerily silent, save for the momentary opening and closing of doors; soshiro is aware that almost everyone has left, flocking to the local izakaya not too far from the base to celebrate. he had half the mind to prompt himself to hurry up in order to make it to the get-together on time. the long and gruelling application process took three months before the vetting could begin, but finally, the third division of japan anti-kaiju defense force honoured its new officers that morning. as the nominated head of the selection committee, he oversaw the entire thing, and at the end, he could not help but to feel confident that their force would become stronger from here - this year their roster of applicants boasts high-profile names like that of the very daughter of jakdf's director general and the young master of the prestigious izumo family.

okonogi, sitting in front of him at his office, was sorting the personal forms of the recruits, a big stapler in her right hand. "i can take care of this, vice-captain", she said to him, "they cannot miss you there."

soshiro smupled to his swivel chair, obviously fatigued by the task he and okonogi had been trying to finish for half an hour already. fighting and defeating kaiju is the main part of the job, but handling the paperwork proves to be as challenging. "right, make sure the headquarters get this by the morning along with the report of all their numbers -" the sound of footsteps nearby interrupted soshiro's train of thought.

there were three loud knocks and the door opened, a man with the same eyes as soshiro peeping inside. even okonogi glanced over her shoulder to identify who the intruder is. soshiro stood up.

"just wanted ta drop by before i head back ta himeji", hoshina soichiro's undeniable accent dripped. spotting the huge pile of forms littering the desk, he commented, "seems like ya are a little preoccupied though."

"hoshina fuku taichou, good evening." your voice was firm yet jovial as you greeted him, the kansai inflection rolling off your tongue. you appeared beside soshiro's brother, still wearing the same standard-issue uniform you wore during the event several hours ago when you were sworn in as a new defense force officer. the outfit is snug on you - soshiro had noticed at the ceremony earlier, but up close the top looked almost skintight, the skirt coming up a little above your knees. soshiro can be a high-ranking official within the force, but he is also a man. if only briefly, he stared. "aren't ya going ta the party?"

taken aback that you would drop by his office, it was out of his mouth too fast he couldn't stop it - "how about ya? what are you still doing here with him?" soshiro responded pointedly at you, throwing you the same query but not answering what you asked him. it was too late to take it back; he sounded like he was interrogating you about your presence with the captain of the sixth division. soichiro winced; soshiro pretended not to see. "i- i was just thinking ya went with the officers on the way there", he added, calmer this time.

"oh, i was just catching up with hoshina-kun", you replied without missing a beat. soshiro doesn't know if the accidental force in his question just seconds prior did not intimidate you at all or you simply ignored his tone. "i mean with soichiro-kun. considering ya are hoshina too", you chuckled. soshiro stole a glance at the man at your side while maintaining an empty expression. he found his brother smirking at him; soshiro willed himself not to picture soichiro as an ugly kaiju with a butt for a face.

okonogi who is now attentively eavesdropping on your conversation caught your attention. "pardon for the bother, hoshina-san. we'll be off now."

for an instant, it looked like you were waiting for soshiro to say something in response. to say what, he doesn't know. the eye contact between you and him held up for a moment but broke as quick as it began. tension prickled in the air briefly then ebbed as you turned away from soshiro. "i'll see ya at the party, vice-captain", you gave him a bow before exiting the room. soshiro wanted to stop you; he didn't.

soichiro sighed. "it was nice seeing ya, 'lil bro", he addressed soshiro, his hand patting the latter's shoulder once, twice. "i have paperwork ta worry about too so as much as i'd like to, i won't be able ta attend your division's party. just in case ya want ta know." soshiro didn't look like he had a crumb of interest to know about his brother's occupational responsibilities; he shrugged soichiro's hand off.

soshiro saw you standing outside, leaning on the wall, when he ushered his brother out. "i'll be driving her to the izakaya though", soichiro informed him. "ya should visit our folks when ya have the time. ya should come home sometimes", soichiro continued, a hint of concern evident in his voice. when soshiro did not respond, surprisingly the older hoshina did not look a tiny bit disappointed. instead, soichiro put on a charming smile and waved at okonogi. "okonogi-chan, see ya around!" he tossed a playful wink at her.

soshiro merely watched as you and soichiro walked together, your pace matching his. a few meters away, he saw you listening intently to something soichiro was saying - he is too close - and although he is not within earshot to hear what is being said anymore, he knows it is another one of his brother's bad jokes. it looks like you were trying to suppress it, but a smile was about to dawn on your lips. soshiro felt sick to his stomach all of a sudden.

the party was already in full swing when soshiro arrived - everyone is hungrily feasting on the expensive wagyu beef, drinks flowing endlessly from the bar. everyone is enjoying themselves; even captain ashiro mina can be seen having small talk with the newly sworn-in officers who were eagerly taking notes from her.

you had easily made friends with the other rookies who are now sitting next to you; it was thanks to your group that this event was planned - after enduring long sessions of strenuous physical training every day of every week, you all deserved a night of everyone just gathering to have a good time. soshiro seems to be exempt from the festive atmosphere though.

he picked the seat next to his captain, who greeted him with a curt nod. he proceeded to grab the mug of beer served to him; the first sip registered a sharp bitterness through his mouth but soshiro relished on the flavor as it overtook his senses.

"everything alright?" captain ashiro from his side asked without lifting her gaze from her own drink. "you are being -" she paused, carefully searching to find the right words, “uncharacteristically quiet.”

soshiro picked the glass of beer again, and when he was about to put the lid on his lips, he could sense someone’s intense stare locked on him. years of being the vice-captain gifted him with equal parts instinct and paranoia so he could not help but scan the room, only to find you, sitting across the room, watching him with a curious expression.

a rowdy group of rookies surrounds you; they are high-fiving each other, laughing at their silly pranks, not minding that all of you are squeezed together at a crowded circle. soft music in the background swelled as everyone cheered and clinked glasses.

soshiro's eyes remained fixed on yours, lasting for what he felt like forever. the buzz of chatter dulled to a distant hum, fading into an almost white noise. his heart raced as he felt his breath catch and his mouth go dry. the corner of your lips curved into a smile and maybe it is the alcohol in his system, but he is certain his cheeks are flushed now.

"huh", captain ashiro lowly exclaimed. soshiro quickly snapped a glance at her. "you talked to her yet?" she asked him. ah, she caught his little moment with you.

soshiro was on the verge of playing it cool and putting on an act; he was about to outright lie to his captain by saying "talk to who?" as if he had no idea what she was referring to. he settled with silence. he was grateful his non-response only earned him a sigh from the captain who did not press the topic any further.

 "to you newbies, congratulations!" captain ashiro raised her glass, still half-filled with alcohol. her voice rang out over the place, everyone's conversations immediately falling quiet. "may the third division always be victorious in our battles to come", she recapped her speech.

the party showed no signs of slowing down. hibino kafka, a recruit in his thirties has been the centre of intrigue that has spanned for weeks now. hibino ossan - as what the others nicknamed him - had revealed in a bathroom conversation with other male rookies that he grew up with captain ashiro. ashiro mina likes dried squid; ashiro mina used to raise pets in grade school - everyone consumed any and every tidbit of trivia hibino disclosed about the usually stoic and serious third division commander. soshiro was among those invested in the rumor and you knew why. for a while, you also wondered how he would react once the rest of the troops learned about your own past with their vice-captain. would he deny it? or would he brush off any potential gossip that may arise from the revelation? if everyone discovered your shared history with hoshina soshiro, would it make him want to reconnect with you?

“you lot will start duty monday next week, but tomorrow will just be another workday for vice-captain hoshina and i”, captain ashiro said, having stood up from her seat, preparing to take off. “no, you can stay”, she said to some of the newbies who have started to get up too.

“nah, captain, why don’t we bring them along to help us file all the tedious paperwork?”, soshiro interjected in his familiar upbeat tone. the crew bursted into snickers; captain ashiro gave soshiro a perplexed look, obviously puzzled about the sudden shift in his mood. testing her theory, she looked at your direction.

captain ashiro couldn't make out why, but you were giggling at whatever your seatmate had said, elegant hand covering your mouth, eyes crinkled. she understood soshiro then - she was not foreign to feeling uneasy inside when she sees someone so physically near someone she cares about after all. "let's go, hoshina", she tucked her pity for the vice-captain away.

"do you guys think they are dating?" a particularly tactless rookie sitting at your table had asked immediately after captain ashiro and hoshina were out the sliding doors.

"i bet they're not", you blurted out a little too soon, a little too sure. you did not mind clipping your accent, your kansai-ben thick and heavy. your fellow officers looked at you, expecting an explanation for your outburst. "i mean -" you stuttered, "that would be awkward, i guess."

"you know to think of it, you're from himeji too, right?" a few more recruits have started to listen in on the exchange. these people can smell the truth off me, you thought. you wanted to smack yourself in the face.

"we went ta the same high school together, that's all", you admitted, feeling backed in a corner. tomorrow when you get questioned for this imprudent behavior, you can probably blame it all on the alcohol. "and grade school", you continued, loose-lipped now.

you still liked wearing pink bows in your hair when you met him. an only child of kind parents, you never experienced having to ask for something you like; you were doted on and spoiled so you were reasonably upset when a young hoshina soshiro did not give you the time of his day. your family has just moved to hyogo shortly before that, and you were anxious to make friends; since your early age, you had made it your mission to make soshiro acknowledge you.

"you dun wanna play with me, because ya are stupid", you told soshiro-kun once. "oka-san said all boys are stupid", you had the nerve to elaborate after he pouted at you, his unkempt bangs sticking on his sweaty forehead, his clothes dirty from training all day.

"yer pretty", he responded and you felt the blush crept up on your cheeks. "pretty annoying."

"come on, spill some tea!" someone's palm connected with the table, jolting you out of your trance. "we have another hibino-senpai situation on our hands!" they declared, grabbing you by the arm and shaking you a bit. if it was meant to encourage you to tell more childhood tales between you and the vice-captain, it worked really, really well.

"he's always had that haircut even as a kid", you said, misinterpreting the kind of story your companions wanted you to tell, judging by their disappointed looks. “i- i don’t know what else to tell you guys”, you held up your hand in surrender.

“do you have a crush on him?” you choked on your drink, caught off guard.

vexed at his absent-mindedness, soshiro was walking back to the izakaya place alone when he heard the commotion. he is going straight to bed once he gets back to the base, but he would have to retrieve his uniform jacket first from his seat earlier.

“you totally do, don’t you!” it stopped sounding like a question and more of an accusation you could not deny. “you like hoshina-san!”

“i -i do, yes... but what of it, huh?" he couldn’t see you but he would recognize the soft timbre of your voice anywhere. soshiro felt like a victorian gentleman getting a glimpse of a woman’s ankle for the first time listening in on the uproar of cheers after your confession.

“the three of us attended the same high school, soichiro-kun was a grade ahead”, you said. soshiro froze. you are talking about his brother. “he has always been good at everything, t'was hard not ta like him.”

soshiro closed his eyes, attempting to steady his breathing. he always had his suspicions - for the ceremony earlier his brother even took a day off his busy schedule as the commander of the sixth division to attend as a guest. he should have known.

last year, soshiro’s squad fought a lizard-type kaiju with a fortitude of above 8. like the reptile, a cut made on any of its limbs was useless due to advanced regeneration. a fractured rib, extremely bruised arms, and a dislocated shoulder were what it costed soshiro to win against the monster. his bitterness threatening to consume him, he cannot believe that you confirming his worst fears would hurt more than that fatal experience.

of course, he said to himself. it’s not like he can fault you for liking soichiro - everyone did. as the firstborn son, their father always had favored him. soichiro has been the more skilled swordsman between them; he was the golden child, charismatic and talented with an effortless charm - like moths to a flame he would attract people, and even in his silence he would overshadow soshiro.

soshiro didn’t stand a chance against his own flesh and blood.

he was a teenager when he dreamed of running away from the constant but inevitable competition he had with his brother. scouted for the third division, he relished on the freedom. but how do you escape the reality of the one you love loving the one person you could never measure up to?

[heedeungism]

synopsis: riki knows you better than anyone else. includes: bridgerton au (barely), a little women reference, confessions of love, pre-marital kissing (the scandal!), gross old men, arranged marriage notes: @hoes4hoseok i hope you enjoy my timothee chalamification of riki, this one's for you girl🩷

there’s a thin line between love and friendship. your mother says she was friends with your father before she ever learned to love him, never in the way the poets rave, but in a way that made her life easier. in her words, “a love match is as rare as a diamond, dear. you shouldn’t hold out hope of one should it ruin your debut.”

it’s a shame, you think, that you can love someone so deeply and yet there’s no guarantee they’ll share the sentiment, nor a chance to see if what you feel is dwindling infatuation or true unyielding devotion. it’s improper to explore your options, greedy to want more than expected, and childish to yearn for love. yet you do.

your debut season approaches fast, and with it, the heavy promise of your hand to baron mortimer weighs your heart down like an anchor keeping you from daydreaming of the things you had read and researched about love.  he’s wealthy, titled, and twice your age. he would give your family a more comfortable life, save you from the shame of becoming a spinster if you do not find another suitable match your first season, and seems to be respectable enough despite his intent to marry you, a soon-to-be debutante he set his eyes upon years ago. it’s unnerving, but your mother speaks of him without disdain, so you keep your anxieties about his character at bay.

unfortunately, your dearest friend plagues your mind just so. riki’s return from oxford approaches with the same swiftness as your debut. you dread the idea of no longer having the liberty to write to him or paint him when he’s a willing muse, as it would be improper to do so while promised to another. for that reason you have yet to write to him since your last letter a week ago, where in it you bid him the gentlest farewell you could to help ease the ache in your heart.

you aren’t sure if he even received it, as he has not written back, but you suppose it’s for the best.

at least you believe that until he’s before you with unkempt hair and a haunted look in his tormented gaze. 

“tell me it is not true.” he says, chest rising and falling as if he had run from oxford to mayfair on foot, though perhaps he had been traveling by carriage since he received the letter clutched between his fingers. “tell me you are not marrying that man.”

you are unsure of how to respond, your lips parting hut no words leaving them. you turn toward your ladies maid, who blinks wildly as she receives the message, placing your hairpin down and hastening out of the room past the viscount’s son. the door clicks and yet his gaze remains unyielding, you finally speak, “you are back early, mr nishimura.”

riki had always been exceedingly easy to read, only to you, he used to pout. this moment is no different, and you can see how hard it is for him to wrap his head around his title leaving your lips instead of his name, but he recovers enough to repeat himself, “tell me.”

you place a hand on your stomach, squeezed by a corset that you suspect is why you can’t seem to catch your breath, “i will not lie to you.”

his brows furrow, his teeth peeking from his plump lips as they part in disgust and frustration, “he is old.”

“yes, i am aware of lord mortimer’s age.” you say with a similar frustration on your tongue that is heavily withheld by your propriety, “my mother saw it pertinent i educate myself before our marriage.”

“you cannot marry him.” riki says, and the frustration in your blood blooms into something more, something worse.

“that is not your decision to make.” you state, mindlessly flattening invisible wrinkles in your dress as he takes a step closer, only for you to fortify the distance with one of your own in the same direction, “not any more than it is mine.”

“you��” he loses his words as his hand clenches and releases at his side like he longs to reach for you, “you do not want this.”

“what i want does not matter to my parents anymore than it should to you,” you state, attempting to tuck the loose strand of hair that your ladies maid hadn’t the time to fit into your updo behind your ear, only for it to fall right back into place against your cheekbone, “lord mortimer is wealthy, he will give me a comfortable life.”

“do you not deserve a happy one?” riki asks, and you feel the cracks in your chest widen. instinctively, you fight the tremble of your chin and the tug in your brow as tears attempt to fit through the open crevice of your act.

“no, don’t—“ you shake your eyes, turning away from him as your arms drop to your sides, “don’t do that. i have accepted my future, i do not need you planting doubts in my mind.”

“what use would planting them do when i can see they’ve already taken root far before i arrived here?” you overlook the step he takes, nor how large his stride is. he only takes one yet it makes all the difference, as he feels infinitely closer than before. just as you feared he would.

“stop it.” you say, masked inside a heavy exhale, yet a plea all the same. “you should be visiting with your sisters, i’m sure they missed you dearly—“

“don’t marry him.” he says, and you finally look at him.

“what?” you ask despite knowing exactly what he said, you want to hear him say it again to make sure it wasn’t in your head.

he shakes his head, taking another step closer, “don’t marry him.”

“you…” he doesn't have to explain what he means, your childish hopes of love that you’d hidden so deep in your conscience do so for him. your heart sings as his eyes flick between your own and then down the bridge of your nose and lower, but your mind refuses to bend as your heart does. you shake your head, shuffling back to salvage whatever distance you can, “no.”

“yes.” he responds in kind, dropping the letter and closing the distance between the two of you to grab your hands. his next words are paired with the act of him flattening your palm against his chest, keeping it there while he grasps the other in his much larger hand, “you can’t marry him.”

“you are being cruel.” you try to pull away, but his grip is firm and you know that if you meet his gaze you won’t be able to fight it anymore.

there’s a sickening silence as his thumb draws shapes on the back of your hand, you can feel his heartbeat. it’s strong, and its pace only feeds your own heart wanton promises of devotion you had only ever been told were too rare to expect in your lifetime, “tell me you do not want me.”

the suddenness of his demand lowers your guard for just long enough for your heart to find the upper ground and force your eyes into his sights, he repeats himself, “tell me you do not want me and i will leave you to marry lord mortimer.” his words are punctuated by the hand not holding yours to his heart grasping the side of your jaw, his thumb moving against your warmed cheek, “tell me and i will never speak to you again, just as you requested in your letter. you will never have to see me and i won’t—“

“i don’t want that.” the words leave your lips without warning, but it’s too late to take them back by the time they reach his ears. you shake your head, “i don’t—i don’t want to marry, i want to paint and read and—“

he listens as your supposed acceptance crumbles beneath his gaze, chest heaving under your palm. “—i want to do all of those things with you, i do. the baron has my parents under his wretched thumb and i cannot bear it, i cannot—“ a sharp inhale rakes your body, a mix of a sob and a desperate but fruitless attempt to regain composure, “i don’t want you to go away, i want you to stay here with me and—“

his lips meet yours with a firmness that sets your heart aflame, and when he pulls away just enough to look at you your heart finally lands the finishing blow in its fight against your mind. your hand lingers on his chest as the one he uses to keep it there moves to mirror its counterpart on the other side of your jaw.

you barely glance down at his lips before they’re on yours again, a welcome experience that you hope you can experience over and over until you’re utterly familiar, but now you're not sure how to reciprocate. the novels you’ve read did little to educate you on the experience, much less prepare you for it to occur with the boy you’d found yourself longing for through the years. 

the gasp you let out when his hand moves from your jaw to your waist to tug you closer is silenced by his lips attaching themselves to yours like he’d spent a lifetime wishing to taste you.

he pulls away, yet he doesn't seem keen on keeping the distance, his nose brushing yours as he promises, “i will speak to your parents—”

the mention of them has your guts turning painfully enough to rip you away from him, nausea hitting you like a bullet through your throat, “i should not have done that.”

“i kissed you—“ his statement does little to quell your sickness, and the wavering grate in your voice as you interrupt him is telling of that. “that changes nothing.” your fingers move to your hair, the pin keeping it in place falling to the floor as you tug, “i am ruined. forget marrying the baron, i cannot marry anyone.”

“was i not clear?” he asks, and when you look at him with frustrated reluctance he continues, “should i gut myself? place my heart in your hands to have you understand how you haunt me?”

“we cannot marry.” you say, bottom lip trembling, “i will not be a consequence of your actions. it is not your duty to marry me when i am the only one ruined.”

riki’s jaw shifts as if your words brought him only fury, “i do not care for duty, i care for you.” 

“you are young, riki. you are not expected to marry for at least—“

“i want to.” he states firmly, “you said you wanted me to stay, so i am staying. i will dance with you at balls. i will send flowers and call on you every morning. i will promenade alongside you for as long as it takes. i…”

he moves towards you, thumbs brushing away the tears under your eyes as his forehead meets yours, “i am yours, do with me what you will.”

©heedeungism : do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission.

[vigilskeep]

hey harker! very much enjoying the lucanis/illario/general crow posting, and im gonna encourage more: now that you’ve had some time to sit with the game i was really curious to hear more about your opinion on lucanis becoming first talon. i can’t help but feel like it’s completely glossed over that lucanis is definitely going to get chewed up by this job in most save states. i have mixed feelings about it personally - but setting those aside because i’m asking about yours.

i TRULY cannot express this enough: that villa is a tomb and if we do not get him out of there we are burying him in it

lucanis does not want this job. he has straight up canonically always avoided thinking about this by assuming he would die before it becomes something he has to deal with. he reacts with paralysed disbelief to being given it and seems to have barely registered it for the rest of the game. and even if he did want it, lucanis is not capable of this job. none of his skillsets are managing people, or making ruthless calls, or watching out for himself. the only driving force behind him being pushed into this is caterina, who will not be around to do the admin and protect him from external threats forever. and she only wants him to do it in the first place because she had a good heir—his mother—and has needed to project that dead daughter onto lucanis for his whole life, to believe she hasn’t already gambled and irrevocably lost her family’s future decades ago. but lucanis’ incapacity to ever say no to her, which is what lets him stay that eternal teacher’s pet, is one of the most obvious shining examples why he would be so bad for the job!

it would be an uphill battle for anyone to recover control of an assassin house that until last week was being run by your cousin who tried to kill you. it would be an uphill battle for anyone to lead the crows in the aftermath of the antaam occupation. it would be an uphill battle for anyone to cope with the fact that relying on viago and teia—which lucanis with his resources and skills has no choice but to do here, even if he didn’t simply like them and make choices based on liking people because he is not a strategist—presents them as an alliance that any other ambitious talon must cut down to get anywhere. three out of eight of the talons is such a ludicrously dangerous number. it does not take an overwhelmingly brilliant mind to notice that there’s more of us than there are of them

the best man for the job would still be fighting for their life, and lucanis is far from the best man. caterina was! and she still lost five children and six grandchildren holding it! that’s so many! have you guys ever seen that one post about people who kept getting a new outdoor cat every time the last one got eaten by cougars and it was pointed out they were basically just feeding cats to the cougars. that’s what caterina dellamorte was doing having kids

the points in lucanis’ favour off the top of my head are the weight of the dellamorte name and reputation, that his victory over illario was decisive and public, and simply the fear factor that he is a god slayer and, lest we forget, a fucking abomination. is that enough to keep him alive? for how long? under what level of constant anxiety and moral degradation for his very soft over-caffeinated heart? all for the questionable gain of several large and empty villas and the privilege of dragging out the slow and lingering death of a family that, you guessed it, you love it, it’s the thedas favourite: has no! next! generation! heirs! at all!!!

(unless illario has a bunch of kids somewhere. i think that would be objectively pretty funny, a sentence i managed to type most of before feeling ill. oh god we need to get them out.)

i apologise that my tone here is somewhat hysterical but i have been living in the mind of my rook, a character very aware of the realities of crow politics who loves lucanis very much. it does not surprise me that lucanis was once again incapable of even conceptualising saying no to his grandmother and accepted the title, or that the idea of abandoning her legacy and his family would seem insurmountable to him when he has been raised to believe it’s all he’s for and he is the last one shouldering the weight. but i am saying this with total and absolute confidence: this is another prison and he is going to die in there if nobody gets him out.

[cjlouwho]

The Things I Cannot Change

I made this post a couple days ago then had to write a fic about it. Enjoy! Read below or on ao3.

“Wait a minute, you're datin' Kinard?” Gerrard asked mid-swing. He had taken Buck out to Topgolf as a thank you for saving his life. Although, Buck still wasn't sure that was actually his intention at the time.

“Yes, Sir,” Buck replied, steeling himself for whatever was going to come out of the man's mouth next.

“He got a sister or something?”

“No, Sir.”

“Didn't think so.” Gerrard planted his feet and swung, unsatisfied by where the ball landed. “So you're a... one of those?”

“Bisexual, yes.”

He rocked back on his heels. “Oh, you swing both ways? Interesting, interesting. You didn't hear about all that back in my day, Buckley. The world has definitely changed.”

“We've always existed,” Buck replied, a part of him wondering why he didn't shove Gerrard to the ground just a little bit harder.

They each took another turn before Gerrard spoke again. “Kinard,” he said, contemplatively. “Gotta say, don't see you two matching.”

Buck closed his eyes, inhaling deeply before turning to Gerrard. “Why's that?”

“Don't get me wrong, Buck, he was a great firefighter when he worked under me. Dotted his I's, crossed his T's. But he wasn't always that way. There's a lot about him...” He shook his head. “Hm. What am I saying, I'm sure you know everything about him anyway, right?”

“Y- yeah,” Buck replied. He knew Gerrard's mind games. Knew better than to fall for it. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

He walked over to his golf carrier, straightening the firefighter club cover.

“That Operation Thunderbolt was something else, wasn't it?” Gerrard asked.

It took everything in Buck's power to not start asking questions. “Mhm.”

“Mistakes like that can't happen in the firefighting world. Told Kinard as much when he started. Damn, he was a mess back then.” Gerrard let out a laugh. “I whipped him into shape real good. Made him who he is.”

“Mm, yeah. I- I'm sure.”

“That Thunderbolt though,” Gerrard sucked in a breath. “Not good, Buckley. Not good.”

*****

“I think Gerrard is still playing mind games with me,” Buck said to Eddie as he plopped down on the couch. It was a rare shift they had without Gerrard, meaning they could actually sit down and relax.

“Of course he is,” Eddie replied, not bothering to look up from the magazine he was reading. “He took you golfing, Buck. And to lunch, twice.”

“Yeah, but it's more than that now. He, uh, he found out I'm dating Tommy.”

Eddie peered over his magazine at that, eying Buck closely. “He found out? How'd that happen?”

“I... kinda told him.”

“And you think that was a wise decision?”

Buck sat up straighter. “It was the only decision, Eddie. He asked if I was seeing anyone. I- I wasn't gonna lie and say no, or- or make it seem like I was seeing a woman just to make him-”

Eddie raised a hand to stop him. “Buck, not judging. Just asking.”

“Right, well,” he settled into the couch again, clearing his throat. “He knows now.”

“And?”

“And he said he didn't see us matching.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Big surprise there. You can't let him bother you, Buck. Gotta let that stuff roll right off ya.”

“Yeah, I- I did. But, he just... Do you think I know everything about Tommy?”

“I don't know,” Eddie answered, confused. “I'm not a fly on your wall, Buck, I don't know what you two talk about.”

“But, generally speaking, do you think I know him? Because, he knows all my stuff. Like, Daniel, and my parents, and the way I acted when I was younger to get attention. He knows all the different versions of Buck, ya know? And I just, I don't know if I know all his versions.”

“I don't think you ever really stop getting to know someone, Buck. You might think he knows all about you, but I'm sure you surprise him every day.”

Buck sighed. “I'm talking the big stuff, Eddie, not whether or not I enjoy whipped cream being licked off me-”

“Okay, no.”

“Eddie.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “I don't know what you want from me, Man. What are you trying to get at?”

“Gerrard mentioned something to me about Tommy that I've never heard of, and I have no idea if he's is lying or not.”

“If it's about Tommy, I'd say he's probably making something out to be worse than it is. Gerrard doesn't seem to fond of the guy.”

Buck nodded. “Yeah. No, no, yeah, I- I agree.”

“So, all good now?”

“Mhm. Yeah, all good. It was stupid anyway.” He grabbed a book from the coffee table, flipping to a random page. “Something about Tommy's time in the army. Operation Thunderbolt,” he shrugged. “I'm sure it's nothing.”

He wasn't sure what made him look up. He hadn't expected Eddie to respond anyway. But when he did glance over at him, he saw Eddie with his eyes practically frozen as he stared at a spot on the wall. Buck knew that look.

Avoidance.

“Eddie?”

Buck's voice seemed to break him out of his trance. He returned to his magazine, eyebrows furrowed. He clearly wasn't reading the article in front of him.

“Eddie?” Buck repeated, louder this time. “Do... Do you know something?”

There were a few more seconds of silence, Eddie's lips pursed as he tried to think of what to say. “I... Buck, it's not really my place.”

Now Buck was worried. “So it's true? There was an Operation Thunderbolt?”

“Buck, I'm not gonna do this,” Eddie said as he stood. He dropped his magazine down on the coffee table and went to walk away. “You need to leave it alone.”

Buck followed him. “Hey, I was your friend first,” he said. And yeah, maybe that was childish, but he couldn't find it in him to care.

Eddie swirled around, nearly knocking into Buck. “That's not fair, and it's not gonna work. If it's gonna bother you so much, talk to Tommy yourself. But I'm warning you, you need to leave it alone.”

When Eddie walked away, Buck didn't follow.

He trusted Eddie. Knew there had to be a good reason he wouldn't get into it.

He'd do what Eddie said.

He'd let it go.

He would.

He would really try to let it go.

*****

He couldn't let it go.

He headed to Tommy's place after work. Tommy had been promising to make his infamous chicken pot pie, the one everyone at the 217 was obsessed with, and tonight was the night.

The food was in the oven, and they were on the couch. Some show was playing on the TV, but it was mainly on for background noise while they made out.

It was kind of a tradition of theirs. Kiss while dinner cooked and then pick up where they left off after they were done eating.

But this time was different, because the words Operation Thunderbolt kept flashing through Buck's mind. Gerrard's voice telling Buck he was sure they knew everything about each other. Eddie's face when he brought up the operation. How closed off he became, how he avoided Buck for the rest of the day.

“Okay,” Tommy said, pulling away. “What's wrong?”

Buck tried to look dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

“I did that thing with my tongue that always makes you jump in my lap and you didn't even react. What's wrong?”

Buck shook his head, straightening out his shirt. “N- Nothing. I just... I think I'm tired from work is all.”

Tommy tilted his head. “Evan.”

“It's nothing, really. Let's just,” Buck tugged at Tommy's shirt, trying to bring him in for another kiss, “let's keep going. I'll react this time.”

As Buck attempted to pull Tommy closer, Tommy leaned his head back and wrapped his hands around Buck's wrists, stopping him. “Evan, come on. Be honest with me.”

And those were quite possibly the worst set of words Tommy could have chosen, because it took Buck from worried to angry in under a second.

“Honest?” He practically jerked his hands away from Tommy. “You want me to be honest with you?”

“It is the best policy.”

Buck scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Of course you'd think this is a joke.”

“Evan, I'm not really sure what this is at all. I'd love it if you could fill me in though.”

“It's... It's,” Buck stood, hands on his hips, “It's a lot of things, Tommy.”

“Starting with...?”

“I went golfing with Gerrard a couple days ago.”

Tommy nodded. “I remember. You didn't talk much about it though. Did something happen?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it did.”

“Okay. What was it?”

“Doesn't matter,” Buck replied, beginning to pace back and forth. Just a few steps in one direction before turning back around.

“Obviously it does.”

“Eddie told me to let it go.”

“That doesn't seem to be happening. Come on, Evan.” Tommy stood, grasping onto Buck's arm to stop his pacing. “I'm serious. Talk to me.”

Buck stared him down. Looked deep into his eyes like he was trying to get direct access to his soul.

“Operation Thunderbolt.”

He'd never seen two words cause such an instant and dramatic shift in a person before. All the color drained from Tommy's face. His expression fell to nothing, mouth slightly open in shock. He looked like he was about to vomit, or pass out one.

A part of Buck wished he would have left it alone. Never let the words leave his mouth and dropped it like Eddie said.

The other part of Buck was still angry, and wanted to keep pushing his buttons. Wanted to find out why Eddie got to know parts of Tommy that Buck didn't get to know.

Tommy took a couple steps back, until his shins hit the couch and he could sit down again.

“E- Evan, I-”

“You know, I'm not even pissed that I don't know what the hell those words even mean. I'm pissed because I'm apparently the only one who doesn't know.”

Tommy's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. He stared straight ahead, unable to even look in Buck's direction. “I really... I can't talk about this right now, Evan.”

“You mean you can't talk about it with me. Apparently you can yack it up with Gerrard and Eddie.”

Tommy unclenched his fists, resting them over his bouncing knees. “Gerrard knows about that because it's why I was discharged from the army. It was on my record and he talked to me about it when I first started at the 118.”

Buck crossed his arms over his chest. “And Eddie?”

The question came out accusatory. He hated that Eddie knew a part of Tommy that he didn't.

“Eddie was in the army.” Tommy finally managed to look up at Buck. His eyes were red-rimmed, filled with an emotion Buck had never seen from the man before. “He understands it.”

“And I don't?”

“No,” Tommy replied honestly. “No, you don't, Evan. And I'm really glad you don't.”

“I've told you everything about me, Tommy! All the bad stuff, all the embarrassing stuff! I thought you'd done the same, but apparently I'm the only one really in this relationship.”

Tommy's eyes darkened. He stood back up, chest heaving. “Do not try and compare stealing fire engines for sex to what I did.”

“I don't even know what you did, Tommy!” Buck exclaimed, throwing his arms up in frustration. “Did you fly to the wrong place? Disobey orders? Get a slap on the wrist from a commanding officer? Someone find out you were-”

“I killed an entire family!” Tommy yelled, causing Buck to jump back ever so slightly. He'd never heard Tommy raise his voice before.

“Wh- What?”

“Thunderbolt was a codename for an operation in Iraq. We were supposed to take out a terrorist cell,” Tommy explained, speaking quickly. “Target was confirmed so I fired. Not even a second later I hear abort, abort, abort in my headset, but it was already too late. Intel was bad, I ended up directing a missile to an innocent family. Grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, and ten kids. I killed an entire bloodline, Evan.”

“T- Tommy-”

“They're just heat signatures on a monitor, Kinard, nothing more. That's what my commanding officer told me. But I couldn't let it go. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I was a mess. They gave me an honorable discharge and a damn medal for killing those people.”

“I didn't-”

“Sometimes I think about it too much,” Tommy continued, ignoring Buck's interruptions. “One day Eddie was coming over for Muay Thai and I could barely get myself up off the couch. He knew something was wrong and we started talking. I don't have many friends, Evan, and Eddie is the first I've had that was in the army. It's easy to talk to him about this stuff because I don't feel like I have to explain myself over and over again or worry that he's going to think I'm a monster.”

“I don't think you're a monster.” Buck's voice was small. He felt like he was two feet tall.

“I can tell when a person looks at me differently, Evan. Saw it the second I told you.”

“Yeah, because I was surprised! It's a lot to throw on a person!”

“I didn't want to throw it on you! I was gonna tell you eventually, but I didn't feel ready yet. Didn't know how to explain it to you.” Tommy stood, his nervous energy taking over. He walked past Buck and headed for the door. “I can't do this right now. I need to go.”

“This is your house, Tommy. I'll go.”

“No, I need to get out.” He grabbed his coat and his keys. “Can you turn off the oven for me, please?”

“Tommy, come on, please don't leave mad. I'm sorry, okay?”

Tommy paused, the door half open. “Not mad, Evan. You definitely don't need to apologize to me. I just... I can't. You have a key. Lock up when you leave.”

*****

Buck gave Tommy twenty-four hours before sending a text.

Can I come over to talk please?

He waited thirty minutes before trying again.

Tommy, I don't think you're a monster, and I'd like to apologize to you in person. I know I threw that on you and I shouldn't have.

Still nothing.

So, he tried calling. It rang seven times before it went to voicemail.

“Tommy, I just wanna talk. I- I know I probably deserve the silent treatment but... I just wanna talk. Call me back, please.”

Buck was not known for his patience. It took everything within him to not get in his car and drive to Tommy's place right then and there.

But he didn't want to smother Tommy, at least not more than he already had. He waited an hour, then started getting ready for bed. He had to be at work early tomorrow, and if Tommy wasn't ready to talk yet, he'd respect that.

It was the least he could do.

When he woke up for work the next day and had no missed messages or calls from Tommy, he worried.

He had half expected to hear something from him during the night.

When he got to work, he made a beeline for Eddie, who was putting some things into his locker.

“Eddie, have you heard from Tommy in the past couple days?”

“Good morning to you too, Buck. My time off was great, thanks for asking.”

“Come on, I'm serious. Have you heard from him?”

Eddie closed his locker door and turned to Buck. “I thought you were spending your time off with him?”

“We had a... a thing.”

“A thing?”

“A fight,” Buck clarified. “Sort of. A fight-ish.”

“A... A fight-ish? Would this fight-ish have to do with Gerrard and a certain military operation?”

Buck shrugged. “Maybe. Possibly you too.”

“Me?!” Eddie exclaimed. “Why me?”

“Listen, I got a little angry over the fact you seem to know Tommy better than I do and I may have expressed as much, okay? And yes, I mentioned the operation, and kind of forced him into explaining, which may have sent him spiraling. He said he wasn't mad, but he has a way of saying that instead of letting me apologize for things and now he won't answer me and I'm afraid he's actually mad or-”

“Breathe,” Eddie interrupted, patting Buck on the shoulder. “I haven't heard from him. Honestly, though, if he told you about Thunderbolt, he's probably not doing great right now.”

Buck flopped down onto one of the benches, his legs stretching out in front of him. “I really screwed up, Eddie.”

“I'm the king of screw ups, Man,” Eddie replied, sitting beside him. “You haven't done anything that can't be fixed. For what it's worth, he was always planning on telling you. It's just a tough one for him to talk about without spiraling.”

Buck glared over at him. “You're really not helping.”

“You've got a twelve today too, right?”

Buck nodded.

“I'll text him, see if he answers. You head over after work. It'll work out. Don't worry.”

*****

Worry was all Buck did the entire day. Especially after Eddie sent his third text and got no response. Even he thought it was strange, which made Buck worry even more.

He couldn't get to Tommy's fast enough after his shift. He hurried over, not hesitating to use his key to get inside.

“Tommy?” he called out apprehensively. “Are you here?”

He knew Tommy had to be there. His car was in the driveway and he always left his door unlocked when he went for a run, much to Buck's dismay.

He headed for the living room first, then the kitchen.

“Tommy?” he called again before heading to the bedroom.

No lights were on in the house, and the sun had nearly set, making it difficult to see. When he pushed open the cracked bedroom door, he could barely see the outline of Tommy lying in bed, covers pulled up to his neck. His blackout curtains were drawn, making the room nearly pitch black.

Buck entered the room cautiously. “Tommy, y- you awake?”

“Mmm,” he grunted. “Yeah.”

“I've been worried,” he said, toeing off his shoes before crawling onto the bed. “I tried calling and texting. Eddie did too.”

“Haven't been by my phone,” Tommy mumbled into his pillow.

Buck settled into his usual side of the bed, keeping some space between them. “Is this... Is this about our fight? I really am sorry for pushing you, Tommy.”

“Not mad,” he replied, managing to roll over and curl into Buck's side. “Told you I wasn't mad yesterday.”

“It... It's been two days, Babe.”

He rested a hand over Buck's stomach, gripping the material of his shirt. “Oh. Really?”

“Yeah.” Buck wrapped an arm around Tommy's back, letting his nails scratch up and down his spine. “I- Tommy, what's going on?”

“Tired.” He nestled his head further into Buck's waist. “Brain was thinking too much.”

“Oh.” Buck didn't know what to say. Didn't know the right words to make him feel better. He'd never seen Tommy like this before. It made him feel overwhelmed, and sad, and a little bit terrified. “You wanna talk about it?”

Tommy gripped even tighter. He was silent for a moment, breathing against Buck's body before he spoke quietly. “I killed people, Evan.”

God, Buck wanted to cry. “I- I know.”

“A whole family. Kids. I did that.”

“You didn't know, Tommy. It's not your fault.”

“That doesn't matter to them. They don't get to have a life because of me.”

Buck wanted to hold onto Tommy tighter, pull him all the way into his arms and hold him until the pain would go away.

But Tommy withdrew before Buck could even get his other arm around him. He turned back onto his other side, pulling the covers up until just his eyes and nose stuck out from under them. “I'm just tired, Hon. I'll be okay.”

*****

The next thing Tommy knew, he was being shook awake. The room was still dark, and he was pretty sure not much time had passed. “What? What time's it?”

“A little after eight,” Buck whispered, giving his shoulder another shake. “Get up, please.”

Tommy sighed. “Why? M'tired.”

“Because you have company.”

“I do?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Can you tell them to leave, Evan?”

“No. Get up.”

Tommy groaned, but forced himself to get out of bed. He took the hand Buck had held out for him, and let himself be led to the living room.

“Hey,” Eddie said from his spot on the couch. “You look like crap.”

“Eddie?” Tommy glanced back and forth between him and Buck. “What are you doing here?”

“Your boyfriend here called me and said you could use a friend.”

Buck gave Tommy's hand a squeeze to get his attention. “You're right,” he said. “I don't know the right thing to do or say to make you feel better. But I think he can.”

“Evan, I-”

Buck brought a hand to Tommy's face, brushing a thumb over his cheek. He leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips. “I love you, Tommy, okay? All of you.”

“I don't know what to say, Evan.”

“Say pizza's on the way,” Eddie interrupted. “I'm starving.”

Buck laughed, rolling his eyes as he turned back to Eddie. “Pizza is on the way. I'm gonna head out to the gym for a couple hours.”

He went to let go of Tommy's hand, but Tommy pulled him back in for a hug. “Come back after?” he asked, his mouth brushing against Buck's ear.

Buck nodded. “Of course.”

“Okay.” Tommy pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Evan. I love you.”

Buck smiled, giving Tommy's hand a final squeeze before letting go. “See you two later. Save me a piece of pizza.”

“We'll see!” Eddie yelled out as Buck headed out the front door. He nodded at Tommy, who was still standing in the middle of the living room. “So, you ready to talk?”

Tommy only briefly hesitated before he walked over and sat on the opposite end of the couch, curling his knees up to his chest. “Yeah. Yeah, let's talk.”