#not that i have much of a choice now lmao

[dolche-tejada]

"I don't care about the rest of your lack of comprehension in the medium but don't disrespect DEKU!"

What lack of comprehension ( I spent my time debunking the pile of crap you're writing in my mentions, you haven't wrote a single relevant argument so far.

As for Deku, I don't see why I should respect this fictional character. He's plain as hell, people constantly glaze him for his amazing traits when his showings struggle to keep up, he has no interesting flaws to nuance him as a character and is just a mouthpiece for the shitty themes of this manga, his character arc mostly consists in him learning to use his powers (how fascinating really...) and he utterly failed his main goal at the end out of sheer incompetence.

"wtf!! be mad cus your favourite villain died!!! but don't you dare accuse Deku of being lazy!"

Why ? Because you don't have any solid counter-argument to refute the fact that he stayed on his ass for 8 years without training to keep being a hero ? And that he needed Bakugo to offer him an easy solution on a plate to do something ?

Or is it because you're salty that Deku is indeed so incompetent at being a hero that he didn't even bother thinking about a plan to save Tomura when it was his main goal, and this despite having weeks ahead to think about it ?

Either way, cope harder pal.

"Lazy my foot bro. Bye bro. You spitting nothing actually."

First time someone trash one of your favs ? Don't worry it will be okay, just take a seat and some deep breaths.

"All the long paragraphs just took proof you lack of respect to the author"

Indeed I don't respect Horikoshi as a writer... And so ?

"and the rest of it just to prove you're just a person who spewing nothing."

He said after failing to prove me wrong even once.

"After losing One For All in the My Hero Academia storyline, Deku faces significant challenges."

Source : Trust me bro

"His journey without his quirk is explored in the series, particularly highlighting his determination and ingenuity in adapting to his new circumstances."

What "new circumstances" are you even babbling about, he literally came back to what he was at the start of the story and even said it isn't anything new for him to be quirkless again.

"They demonstrate that strategy, training, and personal growth are crucial. However, Deku's case is unique because his identity and journey have been so closely tied to One For All"

And in practice, how does being a former OFA user could stop Deku to work out to become a fighter like Shinso, Knuckleduster or Nighteye ? Go ahead, I'm curious.

"which fundamentally shifts his path when he loses it."

Lmao seriously ? That's the best you came up with to hide the fact that Deku never even tried to work out to still be a hero ?

Cause without the bs, you're basically saying : B-B-But it must have been really hard for him to lose a power he only had for not even 1/6 of his life, that's why he couldn't learn martial arts for some reason :'(

What a solid argument, I can't argue with that indeed.

"None of them loses quirk and they're birth with the quirk."

And so ? Besides you know that Knuckleduster also used to have a quirk before AFO stole it from him ? Well guess what : It didn't stop him from learning how to fight and being a quirkless vigilante so nope, you're just looking for excuses.

"Deku also train as crazy as them."

To learn how to use his quirks, not to compensate being a regular human like Stein or Nighteye does.

"Wtf bro, use your brain."

Funny you talk about brain, I was precisely about to ask you if you're having a stroke right now ? Because I can't decently believe anyone could write so much shit in a row without suffering from brain damage.

"Deku's struggle post-losing his quirk can be interpreted more as a narrative choice by the author"

Even if it was the case, that doesn't make Deku any less of a lazy ass bum. He lost OFA during the ellipse and immediately gave up on being a hero, until Bakugo came up with a solution Deku wouldn't have waited for if he was nearly as resilient and well-written as you think he is.

"Kohei Horikoshi, to explore themes of identity, resilience, and the essence of what makes a hero"

No argument here either, just random bs to hide the fact that you don't know how to refute my point.

"It's true that Deku relies on technology, but this can also be viewed as a form of adaptation and teamwork, core values in the manga. Didn't Tony Stark relied on his tech as well? What makes a hero? A quirk. No. A sense to help another person, to protect."

Lmao don't even try. Tony doesn't just sit on his ass and stop being a hero when he doesn't have his armor around him, whether in the comics or the movies (Iron-Man 3 is literally about that). It's even one of his most famous quotes in the MCU : "If you're nothing without this suit, then you shouldn't have it"

Well Deku at the end is nothing without his suit/OFA. It's not an opinion, it's not arguable. It's factual. He doesn't just rely on technology, he's entirely dependent of it. Without his suit, he just stand there without doing anything for years while looking passively at his friends living his dream.

"The eight-year time skip where Deku waits for technology to compensate for his lack of a quirk might be critiqued as a plot device to advance other stories or to give Deku a new form of heroism."

Except he does exactly the same thing as before but with an high-tech suit. If Deku really intended to seek for a new form of heroism, he would have declined the suit so no, "he seeks a new form of heroism" my ass.

"It's not necessarily about laziness but about finding a new way to be a hero when the conventional methods are no longer available to him."

Which is outright false as evidenced in my precedent point, just above.

"This development allows for exploration of his character beyond his physical abilities."

Is this development with us in the room ?

"Deku's growth in different aspects, like leadership"

He never showed at any point leadership skills, only teamwork at best but m'kay.

"strategy, and inspiration, rather than just physical prowess."

Inspiration isn't a hero skill. As for strategy, he didn't have any growth in this aspect either since again, he totally gave up being a hero for 8 years straight.

"In summary, while your addled and rude aspect of critique might view Deku's reliance on external help as a sign of laziness, it can also be seen as part of his character development arc"

On one side actual facts, on the other side your headcanons. Damn, I wonder which one carries more weight ?

"showcasing his adaptability, the importance of teamwork, and the broader message that heroism transcends physical power."

Watch out, you still have some bit left at the corner of your mouth.

"The series uses this plot to explore different facets of heroism, which is a central theme in mha."

The story didn't explore crap. Again at the moment Deku lost his quirk, he just stop doing shit for almost a decade despite having options to still be a hero. All the meatriding and headcanons in the world won't change the fact that Deku is fucking lazy and didn't grow up since Chapter 1 where here again, he never even tried to work out to compensate being quirkless and improve his chances to be admitted at UA.

"I'm done with MHA fans that only read and crop panel for their benefits and play the narrative to fit their imagination."

"Don't you never actually comprehend the material in your hands?"

Try at least to score one relevant argument before saying remarks like that, it's hard to take you seriously otherwise.

Well that was shit. Now sorry but if your next reply is as idiotic and dishonest as the previous ones, I will likely just block you. Given how low you set the bar, I won't waste more time and energy refuting your delusions.

You know, I think this ending would have been slightly less of a fucking disappointment if the heroes hadn't been so unfairly favored by Horikoshi compared to the villains. I mean, seriously

Deku destroys every bone in his body multiple times throughout the story and is warned that if he continues, he'll permanently lose the use of his limbs ? Everything's fine, his body's just got used to being reduced to a bloody pulp somehow so there's no consequences for him. In fact even when he literally loses his arms to Shigaraki, he gets them back two minutes later thanks to Eri because guess what ? Her horn still works even when cut off from her body. How convenient.

Gran Torino gets his ribcage obliterated by Shigaraki ? Don't worry guys, he'll survive that despite his old age and injuries, and this to have no particular role in the plot afterwards.

Bakugo dies heroically trying to buy time before Deku arrives ? Lmao, did you really believe it ?? No of course not, Edgeshot just uses his last-minute Deus Ex Machina to save his life at the cost of his own and- Oops nope he's fine too, my bad !

Hawks murders a criminal fleeing for his life in cold-blood ? The best Hori has to offer is him completely free and in charge of the HSPC.

And no, losing his quirk isn't a real consequence for him because not only it literally played a major part in saving the world with Vestige!Hawks raising an insurrection among AFO's quirks, but also because his quirk has always been the element through which people exploited him.

Endeavor abused his family for years and completely destroyed his eldest son ? No jail time and no media backlash for that, the only blame he received was due to the heroes' failure to stop the League during the Raid Arc.

And don't even get me started on this bs about facing hell or whatever for what he's done : He's literally free and wealthy ; he has Rei, Fuyumi, Shoto, his sidekicks and Hawks on his side ; and all the difficulties he's apparently going to suffer are off-screened.

Deku had to sacrifice OFA and his future hero career to save the world ? Guess what, Bakugo invested all his time and money to make him an Iron-Man suit and now he can still be a hero with everyone else.

There are plenty more examples of this but I think you get the idea. Now let's take a look at the villains' ending :

Toya is now a piece of charcoal kept artificially alive for the few years he has left, unable to move a finger, and whose few minutes a day during which he can stay awake will be spent talking to his father who abused him as a child.

Toga, a literal teenager, killed herself to save Ochako and because she knew it's still better than rotting at Tartarus her whole life.

And not only did she die but she did by bleding to death. Let me repeat for those who have trouble grasping what I've just said : In a manga where the heroes can survive having their heart blown to bits, being impaled Kakyoin-style or smashed against buildings like a fly on a windshield, one of the main antagonists died of a fucking hemorrhage…

As for Shigaraki, after learning that his very birth and all the tragedies of his life have been orchestrated by AFO, after all this development and narrative promises about him being saved in the end... Deku just kills him.

Because despite all his speeches about saving him, it seems like the best our MC could do was beating him both physically and mentally until he crumbles to dust…

Compress on his side is apparently locked up for life and kept alive by machines too.

A begging Kurogiri tried in a desperate attempt to save Shigaraki, only to be unceremoniously blown up by Bakugo and dying off-screen without anyone giving a shit, including Aizawa and Mic.

And Spinner will now spend the rest of his life struggling with the extra quirks inside him that affect his body and mind, while having to cope with the thought that his boyfriend best friend and companions have either died alone or are locked away for life in horrifying circumstances.

Clearly not the same as with the heroes...

Now don't get me wrong, even if they suffered just as much from the consequences of their actions or the plot as the League, this ending would still be a disaster in terms of writing but AT LEAST it wouldn't reek that much of hypocrisy.

[jaggedamethyst]

tandem

alternate timeline jayce talis x f!reader

content: after an explosion, jayce is sure he’s somehow rewinded time and saved you. instead, he’s been transported to a new timeline—one where he’s dead.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, unprotected p in v, soft sex, edging if you squint, oral (f!receiving bc jayce is a munch in my head), a single spank lmao, angst, canon typical hextech danger, mentions of death, mental health, character death, jayvik is real so if you think im implying something…im not…they loved each other your honor. thats a fact. not proofread im too lazy.

word count: 6.2k

notes: omg…my longest one shot so far (I think) enjoy!! i’ll be back soon (maybe) with more but this is a one shot don’t ask me for anymore i can’t be extending everything into multiple parts bc yall are GREEDY!!! (with love of course)

- amethyst 💟

main masterlist

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･���

You refused to say or acknowledge that Jayce was dead. That couldn’t be true. The man that you’d grown to love wouldn’t be so careless as to step into a battle field and sacrifice himself to stop his lab partner. No, you thought, the Man of Progress would never. The accomplished scientist wouldn’t have—knowing the variables of such an action—leave you. Not deliberately.

Time was insanely delicate and Jayce always said as much. There was never a second to spare, a minute to waste. Yet, it felt that since he’d made such an inconsiderate choice—you were forced to watch yourself drain entirely.

You were never good at telling time. Sure, you could glance at an analog clock and decipher the hour and minute hands’s significance. The passage of time, however, was a struggle.

“Okay, I should be back in about an hour. Is that okay?” You would always assure Jayce, despite both of you knowing it would take you longer.

He’d humor you every time. “That’s perfect. I’ll be here when you get back.” Always with a warm smile, before turning to his work—always his work.

You weren't good at telling time, but you knew it’d been a long time since you last saw him. Even longer since you held him, felt his scent whip past you in a persistent breeze. You’d recounted the last time you saw him so vividly in your mind—physically kneeled over in distress at a mountaintop. The thought of running to him, saving him, had crossed your mind and left it just as quickly as it appeared. You figured that of all people he’d be safe with Viktor; Jayce loved him. How shocked you'd been to realize that maybe it wasn’t reciprocated—that maybe Viktor had hated Jayce. So much so that he’d take him away. In fact, maybe it was you that he despised. That he smiled at the thought of ripping Jayce from your grasp. Every thought swelled in your mind, the only way to make sense of the inexplicable.

At the end of the day, you weren't there. Standing at the base of all of the destruction meant you weren’t there, but a distance away from them. Perhaps this was the only way they could commit themselves to each other as partners, them and only them.

So, you’d been left out, and every day you craved being loved so intensely as to die together.

You shrugged the thought off, cleaning up Jayce’s forge for him. Wiping the dust and sweeping away the mess was your own way of maintaining it for him—since he’d have to return at some point. Busying yourself with organizing his workbooks took the most time. He was so sporadic; he would doodle and scribble with no rhyme or reason. He would leave tools just out of his grasp, but littering the floors that had now become impossible to walk on.

I have to make this perfect, you’d think. For him.

So you did. Every week you would commit to tidying his space. What started as an intense job seemingly dwindled in necessity. Eventually, there wasn’t much left to do. The realization that there was truly not much reason to be here hurt so bad. The only part of Jayce left had again been taken from you—and it was your own fault.

Without thinking, a few months passed. So much had occurred that you let the thought of Jayce come less frequently despite the pain in your chest lingering consistently. He’d still appear, though, fluttering through your brain in flurries that left you sobbing.

That’s how he found you—crying in his noticeably changed workspace.

Jayce scrambled to you, ignoring your hunched over form. The awkward positioning of you sitting down, leaning on your knees and into your hands didn’t matter to him. He let his arms yank you toward his chest before you could even register his presence.

“My god,” he spoke into your neck. A hand rubbed up and down your back. You froze at the contact. Not only did you not hear anyone come in, you were sure this was a dream. In spite of your adamance to never indulge in shimmer—there was no other explanation that found you. Surely this pressure was your imagination. There was no way the familiar smell of Jayce swelled around you. Not after all this time.

He noticed your stiffened body and pulled back. His eyes looked between your own; there was a familiarity that instantly broke him.

You spoke through his tears, clawing at his shirt now. “I don’t understand—how?”

“I made a mistake. Like I always do.”

“No,” you shook your head. “Not a mistake.” You attempted to correct him. How could something that bought Jayce back to you be a mistake?

“One minute I was…I’d been helping Heimerdinger.” He nodded, assuring himself. “The next I’m here.” He paused before whispering. “God, I thought I lost you.”

You shook your head, mind immediately rushing to a similar thought. “I thought you were gone for good. That Viktor-“

“Viktor? What happened to Viktor?”

You froze, taken aback by his question. An event that was so tormenting for you hadn’t even been of significance to him? Had he not remembered his own death? More importantly, did he not recall the inherent pain of it being at the hands of his partner?

Examining him left you to pick up on details you didn’t at first. The last time you’d seen Jayce, you thought, he wasn’t himself. In the fleeting moments of imagery in your mind, his hair had grown—facial hair as well. His crooked smile had been riddled with cracks of dryness. The shoulders you once loved, that would stand tall, now slumped in determination. All of these things weren’t like the Jayce in front of you.

Wrinkles and dark rimmed eyes were nowhere to be found as you looked back at the man. Slowly, you reached up to cup his face.

“You’re not him, are you?”

Jayce’s face twisted. You watched his eyes flicker down and light up in recognition, or rather lack thereof. Your clothes weren’t the same as they were just a moment ago.

Your question echoed in his mind, and he realized that no… he wasn’t him. He was Jayce, of course, but not yours.

Your fingers pulled back, relinquishing the relief you’d felt. Moving to stand was a battle of its own. Somehow you tricked yourself into thinking the man you loved had returned to you. It was foolish, really.

“No, please-“ Jayce reached out. He looked down at you, confusion riddling your gaze. “Please don’t leave.”

“This is just like you.” You deliberately avoided eye contact, a sincere smile creeping up on your face. “You’ve always been so smart. The smartest man I know.” Wringling your hands, you continued. “Makes sense Jayce Talis of all people would find a way to clone himself.” You paused briefly, finally looking at him, “And I’m guessing this is because of Hextech?”

A nod. You knew it.

“Do you hate it as much as she did? My work?”

She. You figured that there would be another you out there—hoped she’d been important to him.

“I don’t hate your work.” You spoke quickly. “Odds are, neither does she. But look at you,” a hand panned up and down his body quickly. “Look where you are. I think we have a right to be cautious of what it can do. What you can do.”

It was him who sat then, letting his knees buckle. “You should be--cautious, I mean. Hell…you should be scared.” An image of the last thing he saw flashed in his mind—you lying still on the floor. Blood seemed to drip from your head and seeped into your clothes. It was his fault. He hadn’t kept you safe. He hadn’t done a proper job at telling you the risks, he thought. So when you arrived with a warm smile, and was met with an explosion—Jayce could only blame himself. His version of you had been so eager to check on him, as she always did. If only she’d known how volatile Hextech could be.

You watched tears appear in his eyes. Even now, knowing that this wasn’t your Jayce Talis, you couldn’t see him in pain. More importantly, you couldn’t separate the love you had for him.

“I’m not scared.” You kneeled down and reached your hand out again. This time you didn’t marvel at the man, but comforted him. Letting the pad of your thumb fall just under his eye—you wiped away the single falling tear that had appeared. “I couldn’t ever be afraid of you.”

You’d always been so in synch and the same was true now. The rise and fall of your chests mimicked one another. His hands snaked up, too, gripping your forearms as they brushed against him. Slowly, he made his way up to fold his hands into yours and squeezed. Both of you knew, without saying, that there was an undeniable magnetism.

Your eyes flickered between his facial features—all so independently beautiful despite them working together to make his perfect face. He watched your stares in admiration. Even with his version of you, he would let your eyes trail over him. You knew that he was aware and yet the two of you let it go unspoken. The similarity of your action made the distinction slip away; there was no other Jayce or other you…only both of you here, right now.

You spoke softly first, “I missed you…so damn much.”

He held onto your hands still, “I only lost you for a second and even that was too long.”

Both of you moved slowly, savoring the moment. After all, it could be gone in an instant.

The brush of his lips over yours caused your breath to leave you entirely. A warm breath flew into you as Jayce parted his mouth, working on a lip of yours at a time. You returned the soft pressure with a similar vigor—gasping at him sucking on your lips.

Allowing yourself this pleasure felt wrong. Sure, he was Jayce—but you knew that he’d never be yours entirely. The thought caused you to break, pushing Jayce away.

A hand covered your mouth, a gasp escaping you. “We shouldn’t.”

“But-“

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

He licked over his lips in embarrassment and lowered his head. He nodded, silently running his hands up and down his pant legs.

You continued, breaking the silence. “We should get you home. That should be our focus.”

“Focus,” he repeated plainly. “Right—home it is.”

But for him, home was pain. To be home was to acknowledge the euphoria he felt levitating in his office to only have you be lifeless the second later. Returning to his timeline meant jumping back into his pursuit of progress—upholding an image he wasn’t quite sure he could fulfill. Being back there meant he had to face you, the remains of you.

You went to stand, wiping your face clear of the daze simultaneously. “This is everything you—that he left here. Feel free to use it.” You circled a nearby table, adjusting a book that wasn’t quite in place. “It was a mess before…figured I should tidy it up a bit. Sorry if it’s not exactly how you’d like it.”

Jayce followed you, examining the oddly neat assortment of writing, sketches, and tools. He looked down at you and held your gaze on him, “It’s perfect.”

You nodded silently—a fulfillment in you at the thought that you’d done this right. “I’m gonna go.” You quickly broke the eye contact and stepped out toward the door. “You know where to find me if you need anything?”

“Yeah.”

You quickly left without another word. Jayce and you would interact like that often in the weeks that followed. It wasn’t uncomfortable, not really. There was little room left for full conversation, rather longing stares and stolen glances from each of you when the other was trying to not pay attention.

Jayce was as he’d always been—consumed by his work. As much as Jaycee tried, you would always be second place to Hextech, possibly even third most after Viktor—but he made sure you were a close runner up.

Reluctance was the only feeling you knew these days. Inherently, you felt Jayce should go home—go back. It meant the presence of him would cease to exist again, though. As much as you wanted to do the right thing the yearn to have Jayce back was even stronger. You needed him here.

So you stuck with reluctance. A smile would stay plastered on your face, but inside you were aching every time you were asked for help. Jayce, Ekko, and Heimerdinger had somehow reunited here as well and insisted on working together to get to their respective timeline. On the outside you were the picture of a friend; you simply seemed willing to help with whatever they needed. Jayce could tell, though, that you weren’t okay. He knew you better than anyone—it proved to be a burden sometimes.

You busied yourself as you always did, finding something to clean around Jayce’s work area after they’d departed for the day. It went unsaid, but the knowledge that the disarray would be nonexistent by the next day fueled Jayce, Ekko, and Heimerdinger. The trio would work tirelessly for hours daily; the fatigue was apparent on each of them. The least you could do was straighten up the mess of the past few work days.

The sound of the door behind you creaking open and closing softly caught your attention. It didn’t stop your sweeping. You didn’t have to look to know it was Jayce—there was a certain rhythm about him. In instances where a drawer would open and slide shut in your peripheral, you could decipher whether it was him or not. The constant tapping of a pencil signified his concentration. A well timed shuffle always made his presence known. Even though he wasn’t the man you’d grown to know, the echoes of him lingered.

You weren’t sure if that made it hurt more or less.

“Please,” Jayce stepped closer to your turned back. “You don’t have to clean up after us.”

You shook your head, keeping your back facing him, “It’s okay. I want to help-“

“You’ve already done enough.” Jayce softly tugged on your arm, stopping your sweeping motions. “You do so much around here.”

Wiping a hand over your forehead, you nodded up at him. “Okay,” you sat the broom aside, “Okay—I’ll stop.”

“Good,” Jayce smiled at that, allowing his hands to drop from his hold on your arm. “You need the rest as much as any of us.”

“Well, you have been hard at work—and I’ve been the designated housekeeper.” You chuckled dryly, pinching in the sarcasm. Sitting in a nearby chair—you avoided eye contact—intentionally probing for information. “Speaking of—how’s it going? How much longer until you guys can get home?”

“I’m not in any rush.” Jayce glanced over at you, sitting across the table. He secretly had been pleading that you’d look at him. Somehow of everything, denying him the sight of you hurt him most. He continued with a whisper, “There’s nothing for me back there.”

Your head shook again, this time toward the floor. “I’m sure that’s not true.” He shrugged, without looking you knew he did. “And don’t give me any of that sad shit…you’re great at what you do and that’s why people look for you.” You squeezed your hands together before looking at him. He’d already been staring at you, holding a breath at you finally speaking more than a few words to him. “You have a lot to get back to, even if it’s not me.”

He stiffened at that, immediately remembering your body sprawled on the floor. He urged forward then. “Why don’t you understand how meaningless this all is without you there to see it?”

“Because I have seen it—beyond this.” A hand tapped the table without thought, “I’ve seen you…and I’ve seen Viktor…I saw this at the worst it could possibly be.” You paused and blinked frantically. “Despite all of that—regardless of how awful it feels to lose you…I know it’s worse for a timeline to not have you at all.”

Jayce shook his head, “I’m not that important—that significant.”

“You are and you have to know that.”

“How can you be so sure of that, of me?”

“Because everything good about the Jayce I knew exists in you.” Looking at him through this was a lifeline, a tether to the man you’d lost. He would never hear you uplift him again, so you could only make sure this Jayce knew. “I’ve never known a better person.”

Jayce’s eyes flickered down as they had before, tempting him with a sensation sweet enough to spur him on for days. The sweetness of your touch had been motivation enough to keep working. He thought, hoped, that somehow he could feel that again one day. His mind begged him to cross that line but he couldn’t.

“You’re like her, too, you know?”

“Stop-“ you smirked a bit.

“I’m serious. She’d probably say exactly what you said in this moment—I like the thought of you being the same in all timelines.” He looked away and spoke much quieter. “Makes me hopeful that we’ll always find our way to each other.”

Your body tingled, lit up by his words. There was an inherent need for him you couldn’t deny. The lack of difference made it hard for you to fight off the desire for him—to be held by him at the very least.

Unsure of which hand moved first, the two of yours somehow became interlocked. Jayce pulled you by your hand, allowing your chair to glide over to him. You watched as he lifted your hand and faintly kissed over your knuckles, then fingers. A second hand followed, holding your hand with a persistence that showed he’d never let you go. He nuzzled your ball of hands into his cheek, allowing his eyes to close at the feeling. Hesitating, you slowly let your other hand reach up to his face and wipe the strand of hair from his temple. You then mirrored his actions, pulling his hands toward you and softly pecking over them.

You let your hands fall between you—still interlocked. That familiar feeling of reluctance stabbed at you again, this time at the prospect of letting go of him, even if only for a second. He watched you, chest slowly rising and falling in time with yours.

He couldn’t bite his tongue any longer—not when he finally had the chance to say what he wanted to since he saw you.

Jayce whispered your name, “I’m so in love with everything about you.”

“Jayce-“

“I know,” he interrupted what he knew you would say. “I know you’re not her…that I’m not yours.” He inhaled with apprehension, scared by your eyes on him. “But could we forget…just for a while?”

You understood his perspective—the inability to see the person in front of you as different from who you knew. To be honest, you didn’t want to, not now. Biting the inside of your cheek, you nodded slowly.

“Yeah?” Jayce was stunned by your response, but refused to waste anymore time.

He pulled you in again, letting your chair glide closer to him as he slid off of his own. The softness with which Jayce let his hands run across your thighs, over your hips, and up your torso was nothing short of electric. He pleaded with you silently, a look that said he wanted to do everything—coax whatever he could from you. You’d never deny him.

Jayce rested his hands, stilling them in your lap. Him bowing his head surprised you—the sudden lack of eye contact specifically.

“I love you, you know?”

“You mentioned that-“

“I just wanted you to hear it again…understand,” you noticed the way his voice had dropped and slowed with every word. “Because you might forget in a few minutes…days…but I do.” He looked up at you again while simultaneously moving to take your shoes off, then to undo your pants. “I’ll never stop.”

He didn’t leave time for you to reply, swiping his fingers over the outside of your underwear. He blinked, enticed by the hisses you let out at the soft contact.

“Take these off.”

You stood and swiped the pile of your clothes further away. Looking down at him was a sight you hadn’t been blessed with in a while, it made you suppress the very adamant pulsing of your lower stomach. He maintained that eye contact, letting you slowly remove the last barrier between you.

“Sit down.” He tapped the chair—urging you to move faster.

Jayce hardly let you fully sit before grabbing your legs and lifting them on his shoulders. The sudden motion had you grasping at the table for stability—the urgency of his tongue knocking the wind out of you.

The sound of his name dripping from your lips could've made him cry, but he settled for you instead—his goal to have you completely unwound.

One of your hands landed on his head and clawed at his hair, searching for relief while he let his entire mouth open over you. The sensation bordered on painful but the twinge of sweetness kept you teetering on the edge of wanting more. The feel of your nails scratching over his scalp had Jayce right with you, a constant pain feeling comfortable for him but making him need you even more.

You looked down, not at all phased by the wrinkle in Jayce’s brows. He took everything seriously, needing to be the best at it. You’d never told him but he was. The way Jayce would mold his fingers into your skin and leave every inch of it burning was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. The finesse with which he’d drop an inch or so down, torturing you with his constant sucking as his nose brushed over your clit at just the right tempo…it was as if he studied. There wasn’t a single person who could tell Jayce Talis that he wasn’t the best—truly golden—and he made sure of it.

“Jayce,” your voice dragged, fearful of the sounds he could elicit if you spoke any faster than this. “More…please.”

He considered slipping in his fingers, knowing you’d be throbbing around nothing about now, but decided against it. He was truly greedy in that way; he wanted to savor every drop of you for him fully.

“I will sweetheart,” he spoke into you, letting the vibration work you up. “I will…just be patient okay?”

You nodded with your eyes screwed shut, attempting to convince yourself that you could take a sensation so good but not exactly the release you needed.

He wanted to be softer with you, show how much he adored you, but simply couldn’t. Jayce was truly starved, kissing and licking over every crevice and inch of skin in front of him. The pressure had you shaking and sliding more off of the chair—the lack of handles not at all helping. You noticed your hands paling at your finger tips, grasping so hard on the table and him for stability.

“I’m-“ you hissed at the constant rubbing of Jayce’s nose over your clit. “I’m gonna fall.”

“Hm?” Jayce breathed into you, not paying attention to your body slowly finding less of the cushion of the seat underneath you.

“The chair…fuck…I can’t-“

He stopped abruptly, kissing at your shaking thighs before pulling away. He slid back on his knees and quickly searched around the room. He sucked on his teeth, not having found exactly what he was looking for…but he genuinely couldn’t care less. You watched him intently, craving the heat of him on you again. The feeling of yourself dripping, mixing with the cool air, allowed you a sort of reprieve. You missed the feeling of him, though, and he knew it.

Jayce shrugged, moving to undo his top few buttons on his shirt. He slid down, letting his back hit the floor. The movement was unashamed—without any hesitation.

He waved his hand, gesturing for you to get down from the chair. “Come here.”

You paused, so many questions and ideas hindering you from moving to him.

“I don’t care,” He knew what you’d say, try to get out of this. “Sit on me right now.”

You wanted to be conscious of him—how uncomfortable this could be. But when he was so adamant and looking at you the way he was…and when you remembered how your Jayce had made you feel…

“Fuck it.”

You slid down from the chair, at first settling comfortably over his clothed groin. He was begging to be free of the confines of his pants, and you would allow him the relief soon. How excited you would be to finally have him in you. The man was owed as much.

Using his shoulders for leverage, you trailed up him, letting the mix of him and his work glide over his chest. The distinction in his pecs made you hitch and pause, sensitivity catching up to you. Until now, Jayce had kept his hands away—fighting the urge to ignite you again. Physically he was strong but mentally he could be so weak. He couldn’t wait. Not anymore.

You didn’t bruise easily, but the strength with which he grasped you surely would leave marks on you for the coming days. He yanked you to him, nuzzling himself just between your thighs and left no space for you to move. He immediately started in on you, his groans muffled but you surrounding him.

He loved the warmth of you—in whatever way he could find it. This undoubtedly was his favorite, completely drowning in you. He would be okay if this was the last thing he ever did, it’d be okay to satisfy you with his very last breath.

You began to writhe on him, finding the apex of nose and letting that pierce into you. He felt you, moving his face up and circled to match you motion. You began to stutter your motions, overwhelmed by him hitting every spot in just the right way. He noticed you slowing, and instinctively swatted at your ass to keep you going.

He spoke, his voice stifled by the weight of you. “Don’t stop.”

You wouldn’t, couldn’t if you tried—the feeling was too good. Your fingers fidgeted, shockwaves running through you but the idleness becoming too much. A single hand reached over, the chair Jayce had been on becoming a lifeline. The other slid on your own thigh and peeled Jayce’s grip away. He let you guide him, sliding his had underneath your shirt and pushing your bra to an awkward angle but relieving some of the tension in your aching nipples.

“Should I-“ you interrupted yourself, overwhelmed by every sensation happening. “Can I?”

Your Jayce could be greedy, not wanting you to finish around anything but him. Not sure if the one beneath you was the same, you had to ask—you were on the precipice of eruption.

“Not yet…please?”

He sounded so sweet, so different from the feeling of him ravishing over you with every inch of his tongue and mouth.

“But I’m almost- I’m not gonna last.”

He slowed his motions, sucking and kissing over you as he pulled away and relaxed his neck. He tapped you, signaling for you to move back. You fumbled, shaking over the man. Jayce held you firmly, guiding you just beside him. He watched you lean on the leg of the table, your back finally resting.

Jayce sighed, the work area truly was quite desolate save for a few chairs and that wouldn’t do. He quickly undid the remaining buttons of his shirt before gingerly laying it out on the floor. His pants were next, finding their way into a ball and placed in a pile with your clothes. Inhaling, he looked at you and found you staring into space.

“You alright?” He was wary of your dazed look.

You didn’t let an extra second pass, immediately locking in at the sound of his voice. “I’m good…you?”

“The best.” He smiled, sliding his hand into yours. He kissed your hand again, ushering you toward the makeshift blanket and pillow he made for you.

Looking up at him made you feel the tether the two of you had. You smiled to yourself, realizing how true it had been, that you found each other in every universe. If you had any say you’d never let him go.

“I love you, you know?”

Jayce smiled at the recollection of his statement. Holding himself in his hand felt sickening, opposing how sweetly you sat beneath him. He huffed—unadulterated yearning shining at the tip as he began to leak for you.

He didn’t reply, not needing to. He did slide into you though, allowing you time to adjust to each additional inch he pressed into you. He could feel the tip of him hitting the spongey spot already. He lowered his head to your shoulder, overwhelmed by the heat emanating from your body.

You reached around, cradling his head and resting another hand on his back. The tension in his muscles persisted, flexing even more so as he began to pull in and out of you. He refused to move from you, loving the feeling of your skin on him from top to bottom. Jayce was slow…sweet in the way he pumped into you and held you simultaneously. Settling into your touch let him kiss all over your neck, ear, and shoulder. He’d even made a note to peck you over your temple and ease the creases the feel of him made on your forehead.

You were caught up in the moment, thoughts filling your mind of all the loss you’d experienced. This was enough for you now…but what about later? What happened when this was over?

Jayce continued his movements, writhing forward and back. You fought to let that be the only feeling that pierced your body but it was hard. You clutched him harder which made him only snap into you with a certain insistence.

Him hitting inside of you in repetition had you shaking, limbs locking at the overwhelming agitation. He kneaded at your legs again, squeezing you and sucking into your shoulder as he froze with you. Jayce would always finish alongside you, even forcing himself if he could. The traits of the sweet man you knew inherently found its way to your intimacy—him wanting to stand beside you through anything.

Despite how much quicker they’d been now, your chests still moved together. You gasped in between struggled inhales, trying to level your breathing.

Jayce pulled out of you, making both of you whine. He collapsed beside you, not at all caring that his bare body was splayed on the floor.

Without thinking you spoke quietly, looking toward the ceiling. “Please don’t leave me again.” A deep inhale from you resounded in the room, “Please.”

Jayce glanced to the side of him and looked at you, grimacing at your words.

The air between you shifted as Jayce turned his head. He looked away, shaking away a thought he clearly had.

You called out the indecision on his face, it boiling anxiety in you. “What?”

He sighed and turned his head to the distance, “The machine’s almost ready.” His hands found their way to his stomach, folding over it in apprehension. “Ekko says it should be a few days, if not sooner.”

You froze at that. You’d been so stupid.

“I’m sorry.” Jayce sat up to get a better look at you. “I didn’t mean...gosh, this is just awful timing.”

“No, it’s okay.” You nodded, “You deserve to get back home.”

The truth was that you’d been used to it—the feeling of being left behind. You prepared for this. So while it hurt for the days to pass by with an incomparable speed—you didn’t let it show, couldn’t.

The sight of Jayce working alongside Ekko and the professor was the hardest to endure. It seemed your mind tricked you into thinking every small action was him acting on a desire to leave you. An adjustment here, a calculation there—he was ready to make his escape. It was because of this you missed the way he looked at you. A somber aura surrounded the man and only worsened when you deliberately avoided him. Busying yourself hurt the both of you, and yet everything still went unaddressed.

Heimerdinger made work of some cables to the side of you before speaking up. “We should be good to go as soon as you all are ready.”

Ekko nodded, looking over at Jayce with a knowing look. With a flick of his head, he motioned to you. “Go ahead, talk to her.”

Without a word, Jayce nodded and stepped down to make his way to you.

“So, I guess…this is it?”

You nodded as you did often, “I guess it is.”

“I’m sorry…for how this happened.” He watched you turn your head away from him, hands coming up across your chest. “I want you to know that I meant everything.”

Your tongue pushed into the inside of your cheek, “I know.”

Jayce swallowed, not sure of what more to say. He settled for taking your hand in his, kissing over the back of your palm. The recollection of the gesture allowed you to smile, finally.

Heimerdinger interrupted the moment, “We should be going as soon as possible. This technology is fragile and we have one shot at it.”

You let your hand fall, pulling back from Jayce and turning toward Heimerdinger in a swift motion. Jayce turned, then, moving to stand beside Ekko on the platform.

You stood entranced by the sight of Jayce, and him by you. The two of you held eye contact, savoring what would surely be the last time you would see each other. Time was sweet now, passing in such slow progression that Jayce was awarded the view of you for just a bit longer. His brows furrowed suddenly, causing your head to snap to Heimerdinger.

Ekko called out in front of you, slowly lifting from the floor and levitating on the platform. “Heimerdinger, what are you doing?”

The sight of the scientist plugging in the machine gave you pause. He yelled over the whirring sound of the machine, “It has been a pleasure…to help you both get home.”

“Wait!”

Without a moment more, Heimerdinger swiftly pushed the plugs together—a ripple sending through the air. A blinding light flashed as the figure of the short scientist in front of you fizzled into thin air. The gust of wind and power knocked you off of your feet and across the room. The sound of the room dimmed, all feeling in your body hard to process. You head throbbed, rang. Trying to decipher how the explosion had occurred so fast left you weak. You physically couldn’t move. Yet, the room continued to swirl around you.

Jayce watched the orb forming around him, the web of the Hextech pulling him and Ekko further into the air. He was frantic, triggered by the sight of you hurt. There was blood. Her head, he thought. Gosh, her clothes. Not again.

He fought the technology, pulling himself toward you as hard as he could. Jayce ignored the calls of Ekko, who urged him to be careful. None of it mattered—only you.

Your hand shook, then, finally showing Jayce a sign of life. With every ounce of energy you had, you moved to lean up, a hand urging Jayce to stop. He watched you, hurt but alive, with tears brimming at his eyes. He could tell you were fighting, mustering what was left of you to crawl toward him.

He couldn’t hear you, but watched your head bob and your lips mouth to him.

“It’s okay.”

The webbed ball that floated above the room continued its movement and in a sudden whip, left the room completely black.

The prospect of Jayce, or the lack thereof finally became realized to you. Not once, but twice, he’d so quickly came and went. The pain was impossible to endure. You were thankful, though, that the ringing in your head came—even more so that it seemed to dissipate now. The end was coming—finally a resolution to the internal battle you’d waged alone. A conclusion was on its way, and you smiled at that…letting it consume you.

In their original timeline, Jayce and Ekko had been spit out in the exact moment they were plucked from—left to face the reality of the explosion. Jayce was first to acclimate himself, searching the room for the familiar body on the floor. He ran, with every remaining urge in him he rushed to you in spite of his fear.

He grabbed and shook you softly, his silent pleas for you to wake up transferred to his searching over you. Jayce grabbed your head, turning it to observe the injury—it looked bad. He searched the room, looking for anything to help.

A small vibration below him paused his movement, his eyes looking down immediately. You coughed, pushing out the smoke that had filled your lungs. The sudden pressure of Jayce falling over your chest made it impossible to move an inch.

You let your head fall back, relieving the pressure of the impact your skull had made to the rogue piece of concrete. Jayce shook into you, sobbing over your body.

“What happened?”

“There was an accident,” he gasped into you and fought for air. “An explosion.”

You sighed, the sudden collision of your body making more sense now. You let your hand rub over Jayce’s hair, softly comforting him.

“It’s okay.”

main master list

(note: someone asked me for clarification…yes…reader died 😭 HOWEVER—the version of you that was in the explosion in jayces timeline survived. he only saw her briefly and believed she didn't live at first. when he and ekko get transported back, we see the parallel of the explosion/you saying its okay. i added a few more words in there so I hope it makes sense!! ty for reading)

[maritoke]

Stargazing

Have a fanfic for @cuppajj 's Beast Ancients AU. This fic is basically this meme, except somewhere in the middle Salted Caramel starts to trauma dump (he warned Silverbell twice), and Silverbell silently has a crisis (unrelated to trauma dump, lmao).

Just a warning: there is talking about major wounds being inflicted, but it isn't anything graphic (but just to be sure). Also this thing was written mostly at ungodly hours when I should be sleeping, so yeah, might have some mistakes--

---------

This could be definitely counted as treason, oh dear witches…

Letting the soldier of the Silence Legion just go was one thing. The archer decided to show him mercy. Congrats. One dead man less.

But Silverbell was actively talking to him. Enjoying his company even. Specifically now.

Being not so far away from borders. Maybe ten meters at most from the silver forest. 

He didn't abandon his post as a knight. That would be stupid and wouldn't sit right with Silverbell. He had finished his shift. He should be back at the Kingdom and sleeping. That would be the most logical thing to do.

But it was his free time now. And he could do whatever he wanted, he didn’t have to be back at Silver Kingdom. Not yet, at least. It wasn’t suspicious yet. He knew when to go back. He could just tell them he preferred to be in the forest as of late.

“If it's making you so stressed you can go back. I'm not holding you hostage.”

The soldier's words snapped him out of his thoughts. He twitched his wings out of reflex.

Salted Caramel didn't even look at him as he spoke. He kept his eyes on the night sky. A rare sight with the forest growing so thick. The leaves blocked out all of the sky. Keeping everyone hidden for safety.

It was strange in a way. That a soldier of an enemy's army would enjoy something so simple. But it could be because of how much he was taught to fear the Silent Army. For all the correct reasons. Salted Caramel had told him on several occasions how unfortunate it is that they happened to be on opposite sides (thank you, Salted…).

Silverbell just looked back at the stars. There were just so many of them. Shining bright, making the darkness around them lighter. There were plenty of colors too. Not just white dots on black sky. A mix of light blue with navy, a few droplets of pink here and there. Some stars were even golden. And then there was a moon. A full moon in all its glory. Not outshined by the stars but looking even more beautiful with them around. 

“... I'm good, I can stay a bit.”

Silverbell finally answered as he lied down on the soft grass. He was a bit mesmerized by the night sky. It was a pity. That such a beautiful piece of nature was constantly hidden from him.

At this Salted Caramel let out a small chuckle. It was a rare sound. Silverbell didn't hear him laugh yet, although fae wasn't sure if he would ever witness such a thing. They both knew that the soldier was around the forest by his own choice. To honor those who had died long, long ago in a battle.

The knight would be leaving soon. And it seemed that he stayed around longer just to keep Silverbell company. He didn't know how to feel about it exactly… on one hand it was quite nice, to have someone to talk to. To someone who too was serving a beast loyally while feeling a disconnect towards the values and concepts they once held dear. To someone who too feels a stranger in their own home.

On the other hand, he knew that he was going to be a possible cause of Salted Caramel's punishment. The knight himself was unsure whether he would face any consequences for… stalling and if he did, then of what caliber it would be. The Silent Army had apparently a history of being… quite unpredictable even towards their own soldiers. Everyone would either be passive and there would be no punishment, or they would make an example out of a ‘renegade’.

… Well. At least they both would be renegades in that case.

“Glad to hear you a bit more relaxed than back in the forest.” Salted Caramel said.

“In the forest I was afraid of the Queen. And other faeries could've found us.”

“And they can't now?” This time Salted turned his head to face Silverbell. His unnatural yellow eye almost glowing in the darkness. 

Silverbell didn't answer the question. Just glanced at the knight next to him and looked back at the night sky. The archer didn't know how to answer, for he himself wasn't sure.

Faeries wouldn't go search for him, that he was certain. But Queen Lily? She never elaborated how her powers worked exactly. Keeping it a secret. The less faeries knew the less they had to fear apparently. He had experienced it only once when she had used her powers to take control over faeries.

It had felt awful. He hadn't felt like he belonged in his own skin.

She had used it only once. To check the extent of her abilities. She had been apologizing for it for a few days. Feeling awful for doing something sudden, without knowing how it would end…

She probably would do it again, if there was a need. Silverbell was simply happy that just one knight from Silent Legion wasn't enough of a threat. That is if she could sense Salted Caramel. Would she know that a knight of her direct enemy is around? Or did she not sense him because he was already dead?

He'd rather not think about it. Too many questions. Little to no answers. Just his imagination running wild, creating countless scenarios, each more grim than the previous. 

He moved again as his body shivered because of too many unpleasant thoughts. Grass underneath him ruffled softly as he shifted around. From the corner of his eye he could see Salted Caramel glancing at him.

“You can go back if you–”

“No,” Silverbell cut him off. 

He knew the knight meant well. That he wanted to reassure him he could go back to Faerie Kingdom. That he was free to go. That if he feared for their safety, then he maybe shouldn't take more risks.

But he wanted to stay there just a bit longer. Just a few more minutes. It was hard to return to places that no longer felt like home. Yet you were attached to them nonetheless. Or at least to the memories of them.

“I… I still have time. Don't have to go back yet…” He said with a small smile. His voice had a false confidence. For he himself wasn't entirely sure anymore how much time he had left. But he didn’t know when or if he would see Salted Caramel again. 

He didn't want for another person in his life to become only a memory. Not so soon, not so early. He wanted for this moment to last just a tad longer. If Silverbell would return so late it would be suspicious, Midnight Lily would give him the benefit of a doubt. She liked him enough to let it slide as just a one time occurrence. 

A part of him felt guilty. That he was lying to her and abusing her trust. That everytime if she asked he would just tell her there was just a mere traveler passing by. Hiding a member of Silent Legion, the servant of a very beast who was an original holder of Queen's soul jam.

And Silverbell slowly came to an awful realization. This couldn't be just counted as a treason. As if someone was trying to look on the bad side of things. No.

This was a treason.

Not just a simple misunderstanding. Not a complicated situation. No. Silverbell had had one job. Shoot any outsiders who are an active threat. And the moment an actual enemy had shown up – he had let him go.

Alright, he had shot him once. But when it hadn't worked? He should have kept shooting. He should have gone back to the Kingdom and sounded the alarm. Not had stood there, paralyzed in horror, watching how an arrow to the neck hadn’t killed his target. And definitely not had kept talking to him afterwards, when the soldier had awkwardly offered to give the arrow back.

Silverbell should feel shame. That a memory of their first encounter was now funny to him in retrospect. That it was something that would make him smile. And he did feel shame, but for an entirely different reason. Because he knew that if he happened to see Salted Caramel again in future (hopefully outside of the battlefield), he would still not report him. He would continue this masquerade of guilt and shame. 

So much for being a loyal silver knight, huh?

Meanwhile Salted Caramel kept observing his friend in worry. His brows furrowed when he heard Silverbell's tone. The distant and sad look on the faerie's face wasn't helping his case either. 

He glanced back at the forest, then at the archer again. He considered arguing for a moment. That he clearly felt nervous, and they shouldn't risk it. There was no shame in it.

But instead he kept silent. Simply nodded again. Letting go of whatever words he just wanted to use. It was better to just not speak up sometimes. Keep it as it is – a bit bad, or start a useless fight – make it even worse. Choice was easy.

And so he laid back at the ground. Gazing again at the glowing sky. Although not as calm as before. His expression was more… bitter? No, too strong of a word. Lackadaisical? Detached? That sounded more correct. 

Silverbell looked up at the sky too. Still finding it as beautiful as before. He smiled at it.

“Why did you want to go stargazing?” The Fae finally asked. 

It took the swordsman a few longer moments to answer. He didn't look away from the stars at all.

“I don't think you want to hear a blurry war story.”

Normally he would argue that of course he wanted to hear. He always liked to hear the songs of battles of the past. To hear older knights speak of how they served the kingdom, and how they protected it.

But he knew better than to say such things around Salted Caramel. It wasn't as if the man didn't want to tell him anything, for he had told him various stories of many battles and wars. But he was around for too long, and many of his memories were getting either blurry or mixed up. And there were of course the memories Salted Caramel avoided for obvious reasons. Memories many knights avoided. Memories that were just too painful to recall. 

Silverbell opened and closed his mouth. Trying to formulate a sentence, but failing. He wanted to bite a bullet and just ask. But there was fear of wording it wrong, of offending his friend on accident.

Salted Caramel shot a quick glance at him.

“I wasn't looking at the stars when I died, if that's what you think.”

The archer couldn't help but relax a bit. His tense frame loosening at his words. It was stupid of him to assume such morbid things. 

“Though I was close to dying.”

… Nevermind. 

Silverbell took a deep breath in and out. To steady himself for a question. To actually speak up. Don't leave it quiet. 

“... can you say more? I like hearing your stories.”

He wasn’t fully sure why it was so hard to say. He had prompted Salted Caramel to speak many times before. 

Actually no, scratch that. He knew why it was harder to say it. Because he wasn't asking about a story from a battle. He was asking about one of the moments his friend was the most vulnerable. He simply didn't know why he considered not asking at all. Given how important star watching was for Salted Caramel. 

The knight didn't answer him for what felt like a few minutes. Silverbell almost came to the conclusion that he simply wouldn’t be given a reply. A bit disappointing, but understandable. Not everyone would want to speak of moments when they almost died. Such moments were often recurring nightmares for many. And yet Salted Caramel spoke up.

“I think it was… at the beginning of Grand Cross’ corruption? Or in the middle of it… I can't say… I just know they were different… but not that different.”

It often took Silverbell a few short seconds to figure out when Salted Caramel was speaking about the original beast cookies. As he often tended to use their former titles. Be it from respect or out of habit. Although, one could argue that Silent Salt could still be called ‘Grand Cross’. As it was not a title given because of their previous virtue, but because of how hierarchy in chivalry worked. And Silent Salt was of course at the very top of it.

“We were sent out to fight off the Giant Gravel Jelly Worms… They were a threat to one of the cities I think… and normally it would not be a problem, even if they were fully grown but uh… two or three are… let's say manageable.” He paused for a moment. “Six of them are a rather big issue.”

“How did those worms look?”

Silverbell could see a grimace on Salted Caramel's face. His body wincing for a moment.

“... maybe as big redwood trees? Maybe a tad smaller?”

Silverbell just stared at him blankly. Trying to convey without words how little it narrowed it down. These trees grew fast and tall. They could grow up to over one hundred meters with enough time. He doubted that Giant Gravel Jelly Worms could get that big. Although, maybe they could. Maybe they could and Silverbell was underestimating it. 

“Listen, they were just enormous, okay? Bigger than I had thought possible back then,” knight said in his own defense. A tiny note of frustration in his voice.

“Regardless…” he continued. “They had a body covered with strong scales, and a bunch of sharp spikes on each segment of their bodies. They could spin them. I think it normally helped them move around while digging in the ground? But at the surface it was as lethal as a newly sharpened sword. A sword made out of a very strong mix of metals.”

A pause again. A longer one. This one lasted maybe two minutes. Maybe a bit longer. Salted Caramel put a hand on his stomach. Soon however he tensed up again. Making a fist, trying to grasp something. As if he could dig into his own body and just rip his insides out.

Silverbell was about to tell him that he didn't have to continue. Because it clearly made him relive some absolutely nasty memories. The story wasn't worth it if it was putting him through such things. But before he could even say anything, Salted Caramel continued:

“With six of such monsters the battle lasted long until it was well into the night.” Silverbell could hear Salted Caramel rush a bit. Trying to get to the main point faster. “I got cut by one of the spikes. It dug deep. From my stomach almost up to my chest. A miracle it didn’t slice me in half.”

Silverbell couldn't help but hiss at description. He felt a knot in his stomach. He couldn’t imagine how much pain it must have been. Such a big injury. If one had looked down they would have seen their own organs… a very gruesome image, even more that it had happened. 

And yet Salted Caramel seemed to relax a tad bit. Faerie assumed that the worst part of the story was behind them now. The moment of when the wound had been inflicted. 

“After that I fell to the ground because I couldn't stand anymore, of course. I was bleeding out so much, I was terrified I would die.” The knight let out a dry chuckle. Finding the past a bit ironic given his current situation. “After… a rather big blood loss I didn't have energy to panic anymore. And then I realized that I was looking at the stars.”

Salted Caramel finally relaxed the fingers in his hand. Lying it again flat against his abdomen.

“And then I thought to myself… that it wasn’t the worst way to die. Despite the chaos happening around, despite it hurting so much… it would be a good death. To die in a battle with honor, able to look at the stars last time…”

There was new calmness to his voice now. A strange sense of melancholy mixed with hopefulness. It fitted him. It fitted him a lot.

“That's the main reason why stargazing is important to me.” Salted Caramel admitted. “It gives me solace. Especially now…”

“... why so?”

“... because I'm stuck here. We are stuck here. In probably the worst Era possible. But we did the best we could. We're trying our best still… and we still might just end up bloodied anyway… just one more corpse of another tired soldier…”

A pause. A deep breath in and out. To calm down. To gather thoughts. 

“But… There are things that are beautiful nonetheless. Things that were here before everything and will continue to be after… and we can enjoy them… even as we are dying there are things we can enjoy. Things that cannot be destroyed because it's just… impossible. I mean…”

Salted Caramel sat up. The metal plates of his armor quietly creaked due to sudden movement. He was now sitting on the grass with his legs crossed. 

“There are some things that just… can't be gone, right? I mean… Witches, I… give me a moment, I've lost my own point…”

Silverbell sat up too. Out of the corner of his eye he watched how Salted Caramel looked at the ground. Trying to get his thoughts back together. 

The archer hugged his legs and rested his head on his knees. He no longer observed the stars but his friend. 

He couldn’t see his face at the moment. He was partially covering it with his left hand. He used his right hand to play with his own long hair. Trying to regain focus and put his thoughts back together. Frustration he felt at himself was almost radiating. 

Silverbell only let out a soft sigh, his wings flexing a bit. It seemed that Salted Caramel hit his limit for tonight or even for this week.

The faerie loved talking with the knight. But Silent Legion had its name for a reason. Of course, the main reason was the fact it was one of if not the deadliest army recorded. Often winning battles before even a scream of their victims could arise. Ever the quiet death armored and armed, never leaving a sound. 

Another reason could be also because the very members themselves were apparently a quiet bunch. Salted Caramel included. He could easily remember how first their talks had been very one sided. Where it was mostly Silverbell talking at Salted Caramel than to him. Only the more time they'd spend the knight decided to start talking too. Still, he mostly spoke short sentences.

Therefore whenever Salted Caramel would tell a story, Silverbell would consider it a treat. Because even if it would take a while, it was nice to hear him talk. To hear him recall various battles or even just mundane situations that he remembered. Oftentimes speaking fondly of memories that could be sometimes very painful ones.

Because even now, when Salted Caramel had tensed up and grimaced various times while recalling the fight against the Giant Gravel Jelly Worms, he still finished it on a somewhat happy note. Despite the memory being mostly about a brutal battle and almost dying, it ended with him finding solace in that moment – regardless of what an outcome could have been. Peace even when the world around was dying, disappearing. 

“I think I know what you mean,” Silverbell said as he leaned onto Salted Caramel. 

The knight tensed up for just a moment. A short second of uncertainty before relaxing again. He shifted just a bit, to allow Silverbell for a more comfortable position. Despite being cold, Salted Caramel’s presence was a calming one.

And so they both continued to watch the stars. The eternal painting never to be erased or destroyed. Shining endlessly throughout all the years that had passed, and would continue to shine when the world was falling apart at the seams.

And regardless of the outcome. Regardless if there would be peace or wars, regardless if there would be thousands of cookies or if they all turned into nothingness or simple flour… stars would remain. For they were here before it all started, and would still be after everything ended.

It was strangely comforting. That even if everything was destroyed, there would be something that remained.

---------

So just to answer some things:

Why didn't Salted Caramel die if he was shot in the neck?

Salted Caramel is undead. He isn't revived. Think a spirit possessing its own corpse. He can be killed, but that would require either decapetion, or purification if you want to get rid off his soul (doesn't need to be Saint purification, Wind Archer would also do the job). That's also a reason why he is described as cold! He's cold because his body doesn't really need to maintain a body heat anymore! Ain't that convinient.

Why didn't they start fighting when Silverbell had first shot Salted Caramel?

If I shot someone in the neck, and they just stared at me confused, I would personally die right where I stood out of pure horror. Silverbell is braver and was just paralyzed by fear. Salted Caramel? He'd rather avoid fighting when he can, after all he was just going through the forest to go honor the fallen soldiers. So when he got shot he thought he must have tresspassed accidentaly, and felt awkward.

Are they meant to be platonic or romantic in this? (My own friend asked me this)

¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Honestly interpret them however you want, both interpretations are cool

[king-candybug-backup]

What’s your favorite scene so far? Like not just to write but just in general.

Sad, happy, funny whatever, what’s your all time favorite? :D

OOOOHHHHH MAN. I HAVE AN EXACT SCENE IN MIND, BUT CAN’T SHARE IT YET BECAUSE IT’S IN ONE OF THE LAST CHAPTERS. 😂 I’ll give a very brief overview of what it entails, because I feel like the fact that it happens isn’t exactly a spoiler since it’s kind of inevitable given all of Candybug’s general assholery, though I’ll put it in small text in case people want to gloss over it, but basically *cough cough* Vanellope flips her goddamn lid at King Candy (long overdue and well-deserved ofc lmao) and I just can’t wait to get to that part, she tells him off VERY HARD. My favourite scene for sure. :3 (tbh there’s a lot of emotionally painful shit that comes up in that particular set of chapters that I’m just so unhinged and not normal about lmfao CAN’T WAIT TO HURT YOU GUYS MORE <333)

AS FOR SCENES OF THE ALREADY-COMPLETED CHAPTERS THOUGH, MAN, THAT’S ALSO TOUGH TO DECIDE TBH 😂 Chapter 3 and Chapter 8 have been my favourites overall of the published chapters so far, and a couple of my fave moments from those ones was a) Ralph finding out that Candybug’s still alive and the general fallout from that, and b) Candybug reminiscing to Felix and Vanny that he went through Ralph’s mud pile on purpose before coming inside the penthouse specifically to annoy Gene ghfdsgxdhcfgvhbjnkvgf

I also like these two a lot, idk exactly how to explain why I like the second one tbh, but the first one I just find fun and silly lol: 

“Alright, pipsqueak, what exactly did you mean by Cy-bug-related–” She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the beastly hybrid in front of her.  “Hello there!” King Candy chipperly greeted her, adding on a friendly wave. “Why, aren’t you looking lovely today! Is that a new hairstyle? It suits your character model wonderfully.” “Layin’ it on a little too thick, there.” Vanellope whispered to him, an anxious grin plastered across her face. “Hmm, you think so?” He tapped his chin with one claw, eventually nodding in agreement. “Perhaps the hair comment was a tad much.”

I just like the whole vibe of like…

Vanellope: For the love of mod, please be nice.

Vanellope two minutes later: NOT THAT NICE.

Oh, KCB and his fake-ass bitch energy. 😂

And then this one:

For the longest time, it had been so hard to look at him and see anything aside from Turbo, the monster. The arcade’s personal boogeyman. The bitter, vile, heartless fiend that gleefully stole the lives away from so many people, herself included. But, with each passing day, it was becoming easier and easier to see him as Turbo, the person. Someone with feelings and interests and problems… Oh, so many problems. But still a person, like anybody else in the arcade. If she were being truly honest with herself, she hated it. She hated the dichotomy that came with seeing him in this light. She hated the ways in which she could find sympathy for him despite knowing just how undeserving he was of it. Knowing full well all the wrongs he’s done.  All of it rooted in that one particular wrong so many years ago. That one choice that she had never been able to wrap her head around, no matter how many times she’d heard the story. Now, it was time for her to understand. 

BUT HONESTLY I JUST LOVE THE WHOLE ROADBLASTERS CONFRONTATION IN GENERAL AGHSFDGJVBJNK, I LIKE DOING “NARC CRASH” STUFF WITH KING CANDY, IT MAKES MY BRAIN GO BRRRRRRRRRR

There’s also some fun Calhoun + Candybug interactions coming up eventually, and even though they don’t interact a whole lot as compared to the other characters, I love their stupid dynamic and I’m gonna share this one scene from one of the later chapters of Calhoun completely trolling him because it makes me giggle 😂

They sat in silence for a minute or two longer, Calhoun’s head tilted slightly to the side as she watched the Cy-bug eat. One more question had popped into her mind, and though she already knew the answer, she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to have a little fun at this bastard’s expense. “So… Haven’t laid any eggs, have you?” King Candy immediately choked on his food, hacking and coughing while he tried, unsuccessfully, to regain whatever sense of composure he had five seconds ago. Turning away to jot something into her notebook (and hide the smirk on her face), she commented, “I’ll take that as a ‘not yet’.” “What do you mean ‘yet’?!” Candy’s distraught voice sputtered back, Calhoun trying very hard to muffle her snickering.

I JUST THINK THE FACT THAT SHE KNOWS WAY MORE ABOUT CY-BUGS THAN THE ACTUAL CY-BUG COULD MAKE FOR SOME VERY SILLY TROLLING SHENANIGANS. 😂

[youraverageteaenjoyer]

We fucked up so bad it's actually kinda funny. They are all messed up good lord.

TSUNO SAW MAHIRU DIE. LIKE WHAT. I WILL NOT GET OVER THAT. Short hair really suits her though. But the way she speaks I barely recognize her based on that.

I can't imagine not having read the timeline conversations and just. Being jumpscared by Amane having converted Futa. I knew it was happening so seeing the sprites for them didn't surprise me, but I know some people did not read them so. That must be a revelation for sure lmao.

What I am surprised by though is how unchanged Mu seems? Like I expected some sort of change but she still seems like herself but just guilty. Huh.

They knew so well what they were doing by not fully showing Kazui's hands because now we can't tell if he's wearing the ring or not. (I know the likely answer is no but it's still an interesting choice that I can't imagine was a coincidence)

I don't have much to say about Mikoto he just makes me sad </3

And Kotoko.. girl is pissed lmao. I do love the muzzle honestly. It was foreshadowed in undercover and I'm glad they actually did it.

I'm thinking if I'm regretting my own verdicts given but I don't think so except for like the obvious being innocent Shidou. Mahiru was definitely a goner regardless of what verdict either her or Shidou got me thinks. Guilty Futa would have just killed him (self delete prop) and guilty Amane wouldn't have done her any good either. Yk what they are all fucked regardless of what we did milgram is just like that. That definitely hit me a lot harder with these reveals.

voiceline translations by @/c0standco on twitter!

[forcebookish]

If you don't answer, I'll take that as a yes.

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

debate

(topic: how many and what configuration of kids do they give off vibes of having (either at present or in the future)(partner is irrelevant in most cases, some could be single parents for all i care))

[alacants]

Me discovering that juanki and Carlos signed for ten years which means that their beautiful and deep relationship coach/player will end up someday: *to myself* noo, don't invest your time and emotions in them so you will be eternally sad if they even go on different ways, you're so sexy *tears start to fall in the phone screen*

yeah, i mean, that's THE question isn't it. god if i could look into a crystal ball that is one of the first things i would ask. do they stick to this or. not.

like, so far juanki has done his best to give carlos the exact same training environment he had, only better. a leveled up version. meanwhile he's gone on the record, repeatedly, to extol the irreplaceable value of having the same coach from childhood through his entire career. so do we really think if push comes to shove HE'S going to be the one to cut the cord?? (especially since in 10 years his oldest kid will be 20! like, what, NOW you decide to break it off?) i'm not saying i think he's aware he's kidding himself. just, i'll believe it when i see it.

now. the flipside of this is. is it in fact better to have the same coach for your entire career.¹ goes without saying that it's different for different players and that the personal relationship is immensely important to carlos. so obviously what i'm immediately fascinated by is the hypothetical of like. what's gonna happen if it DOES hit a wall?

like, if we look juanki's career, WAS it in his best interest to have the same coach from cradle to grave. sure maybe 2009 was five years of patience rewarded. or maybe it shouldn't have taken five years in the first place, u know. but it was obviously a foundational personal relationship and maybe that was more important anyway! maybe a coach switch would have made things even worse! it's just, like. a question you can't really avoid. (at the very least idk what his physios thought they were doing but after the DOZENTH INJURY...)

so if carlos hit a slump—like, a BIG slump, indeed a juan carlos ferrero-sized slump—and juanki couldn't help him out of it, and it kept going and going, and it didn't get better. like. what WOULD happen. would juanki encourage him to try working with someone else. would carlos refuse. would carlos think he had no choice but to make a change. would he risk his own career—and carlos already has a LOT more to lose than juanki did—for the relationship. there are so, so many tasty possibilities here that i have to, like, add a disclaimer that i am not actually hoping that carlos will hit a catastrophic two-year slump, ok, i'm just. SO CURIOUS....

¹darren cahill's thoughts: "I think there’s a three- or four-year lifespan to help a player, when the same message is coming from the same person."

[juneboba]

wow, i remember being in her patreon a couple of years ago and she posted a vague audio recording about this that was deleted soon after. i decided then and there to stop supporting her. i thought of this situation recently and i wanted to see if she's grown as an artist and almost 2 years later, she hasn't learned anything. in addition to selling art mentioned above, she's taken to stealing from shiroiroom too.

you could argue the first two are "inspirations" but the desk mats (last image) are blatant second-rate copies. if she has no scruples about stealing from artists who have a bigger name than her, i wonder who else she's stolen from. i'm extremely disappointed.

Yesterday I discovered that an artist had traced my art and was planning to make pins out of them. Art theft is bad enough, but stealing art for commercial use? Big yikes. I confronted her and while she did apologize and delete the posts, she only admitted to referencing my work rather than straight up tracing it. And she is deleting all comments calling her out on it.

I was going to leave it alone, but then I found out she has done this to multiple other artists in the past. While she does make some adjustments to the designs, it’s obvious enough that I could directly tell what the original image was. And she has never credited the original artist for any of these.

I never make public call outs like this, but since she is actually profiting and making these for commercial use I feel it is justified in this case. This person has been confronted by others in the past yet she continues to steal, so clearly she hasn’t learned anything (i talked to an artist who confronted her as recently as last month).

She is called @guillmon9005 on Instagram, and her shop account is called @Chenxira - she also has a Patreon account.

I don’t want any harassment to be sent her way, I just want this information to be public. I don’t think it’s okay that she has been able to continue for this long without ever addressing the situation. Perhaps you disagree with me and don’t consider this theft, which is ok! But even so, it’s shady to be so heavily inspired by someone else and not even giving them credit for it.

[zellk]

Forgot to share here.... old doodles of when I finally came around to finding a design I like for Qalaari's mom !!

[fluffypotatey]

Shadowpeach stories used to have to come up with a reason why macaque and wukong, mortal enemies, were meeting each other. Was there a huge risk in the world or a random demon attack? Did mk trick them both to show up in the same place? Did wukong for some random ass reason decide to go to macaque's dojo?

However, now we can have just wukong randomly running into macaque in ffm while going about his day. They could be seeing each other daily for all we know.

YEAH ISNT IT WILD?????

like anything s1-s3 would be where either someone else plots enough to force them to meet or they have to actively seek each other out

and now….now they’re on the same island…..

[marimbles]

i miss carpisuns sometimes </3

[queenbirbs]

Popping the neat line of tape, Tim unwrapped the paper and lifted the lid of a box to reveal a printout. It was a reservation for two for a scotch whisky tour, including a private dinner and a round of tastings. He noted the date and time: December 30th, 4:00 p.m. “Nice,” he said with a smile. “Thank you. Let’s hope that we can both get off shift in time for it.” “Yeah, well, we’d have to leave pretty early if we wanna make it there.” She bit her lip and motioned to the box. “The rest might help with that.” Intrigued, he set the paper down and moved to the next. Another printout, but this time with the British Airways logo stamped across the top: tickets to Scotland for the 26th through the 2nd of January. “This is— Luce, that’s two days away.” “Actually one, remember?” she reminded him with a grin.

Tim and Lucy ring in the New Year with a trip away from LA — 5,146 miles away, to be exact.

Happy early New Year's, @roguetwelve! Hope I took them far enough away from LA for you ;)

[batsplat]

wait, is there a dovi/jorge feud???? i didn't know this!! also thank you so much for all you do for this community ❤️

not the only ask I've gotten about this and... look, rather than doing a proper write up that would take forever, I'm just gonna give my top ten fun... facts? bits of trivia. tidbits related to the two of them. quite long tidbits, on second glance. the highlight reel, if you will

(1) that time andrea dovizioso made 14 year old jorge lorenzo cry

the two of them already raced each other before the start of their grand prix careers, competing for the first time in 2001 in the cev when dovi was around 15 and jorge around 14. in riveras tobia's biography, here's jorge talking about their first fight:

I led the way at the start and Dovizioso and I escaped. It was our first head-to-head encounter, the first time we raced each other. My dad had heard that Dovi was a really clever rider and he warned me before the race. But just like in 1998 at Jerez, with Olive, I acted like a dummy and pushed for the whole race. I kept looking behind me to see the bastard still there! It was impossible to shake him off, he was watching me the whole race until the last lap. Three comers from the end I could hear his engine getting closer and I saw his shadow to my left, but he didn't come past. I thought to myself "This guy is going to try something in a second!" I decided I had to on a tighter line and close the door. Sure enough, Dovi went wider through that comer and then dived up the inside. I didn't close the door in time and tried to get in his slipstream, desperately hoping I could get him the next corner, but I ran wide and he won. I came back in tears, I didn't even want to go to the podium, I felt so cheated. I'd been on the limit for the whole race and I felt like I deserved the win more than he did.

so that's a nice and positive start! there's something charming about how even fifteen year old dovi was an absolute menace on last laps

also about that race:

'Jorge beat Dovi in Braga but in the previous race at Most, what a tantrum!' recalls Juanito, laughing. 'He didn't even want to go to the podium, he was crying like a baby! I can still see Dani (Antatriain) talking to him, trying to convince him. In the end he went but he didn't want to look at anybody.'

(2) the photo finish

in 2004, they were rivals in 125cc - a year in which dovi claimed the title and jorge was p4 in the standings. in the very first grand prix ever at the lusail circuit (pretty eventful weekend, you have to say), jorge and dovi crossed the line at the exact same moment

(3) dovi's top three favourite career win

dovi and jorge progressed through the categories at the exact same rate, and after their 125cc rivalry they continued fighting in 250cc. they were title rivals in both 2006 and 2007, with jorge's aprilia winning out both times against dovi's underpowered honda. (the general pattern was that dovi clawed back a bunch of points from jorge in the wet - jorge, with perhaps the exception of a few years in the premier class until around 2013, has never been much of a wet weather racers, while it's always been one of dovi's strongest traits.) for dovi's 300th career start in 2019, he was asked what his top three wins were - and one of his picks was from way back when in 2007

I'd recommend the race! which... well, I did in the race rec post - and I can only reiterate that these two kids do not acknowledge each other, not good vibes at all

(4) jorge's thoughts on young dovi from 2008

Jorge has a lot of respect for Andrea Dovizioso and feels that his two 250cc world titles have even more prestige because he had to beat the Italian to win them. 'You wouldn't label Dovizioso as fast, particularly, but he's much faster than he looks. He doesn't set many pole positions but he is always up front in a race, fighting to win. He is very intelligent and you can't trust him an inch on the last lap. He has been faithful to Honda, he has great belief in them. His negative side is that he tends to play the victim too much. He'll say that if his bike had a better engine or if it was a bit faster he would win. He's even said that if he was on the same bike as me he'd give me a hiding. I think he looks for excuses too often sometimes, but as a rider and a person I don't have a bad word to say about him.'

some dovi traits read as very familiar, from how he's a better racer than qualifier to the intelligence to the last lap prowess. as for jorge saying dovi plays victim too much? well

also this:

ER: Don't you think that Dovizioso wanted to be World Champion too in 2006 and 2007? Don't you think he gave everything to achieve it? JL: He will think he gave his maximum but he will be lying to himself because nobody does that. Nobody gets close to their maximum, not even me. He will think that he didn't win because he was riding a Honda. There are very few sportsmen who will say, I deserve what happened to me and there are no excuses. I didn't know how to do any better and I've done things wrong.' That is the only way to be the best, the only way. People who make excuses don't get to the top. I know riders who haven't made it for just that reason.

plus ça change

(5) jorge's thoughts on young dovi from 2018

when they were doing their thing as ducati teammates (bickering), here is one of the things jorge said about dovi:

dovi's been trying to undermine jorge's morale his WHOLE career... even when they were but teenagers... love it when you can really tell someone's been sitting on something for over a decade

(6) "also lorenzo is not my friend"

both of them moved up to motogp in 2008, jorge with factory yamaha and dovi with satellite honda. dovi had a very strong rookie season and finished in p5, only sixteen points behind jorge in p4 (who after a promising first few races had spent a lot of time that season crashing). after that, their fortunes diverged. dovi did not have a particularly happy time in the factory honda team and needed to do some shrewd negotiating to be retained by them for 2011 in that three-man squad, while jorge of course won the championship in 2010

here's a deep cut from 2011, a season where much of the excitement and drama was caused by marco simoncelli alone. jorge had exchanged tense words with sic in estoril, one race before simoncelli was responsible for a crash where dani broke his collarbone. the crash and sic's subsequent penalty meant that the three-way fight between jorge, dovi and valentino became one for the podium, with dovi and valentino eventually grabbing the two remaining spots behind casey. but during the race, jorge had executed a... questionable manoeuvre on dovi, one that did have some similarities to the sic/dani incident. given jorge's strong previous comments on racing standards, unsurprisingly the journalists pounced on this incident in the post-race presser and ask the podium sitters about it. here is the clip:

in this clip, dovi essentially says it was a dangerous move from jorge, but he wasn't sure what jorge's intent had been and he needs to watch the footage again. valentino (who had been the most outspokenly critical of sic of the three of them earlier in the presser) takes the opportunity presented to him to have a bit of a potshot at jorge. he says that dovi doesn't have the best relationship with sic but jorge had done something pretty similar in the race... at which point dovi goes "also lorenzo is not my friend"

which, you know. not exactly a major incident, but I find it very charming dovi felt the need to clarify that, actually, he doesn't like either of them. valentino also adds that by jorge's own standards, surely he too should have gotten a penalty. not exactly a meeting of jorge's biggest fans hm

(7) mapping eight-gate

well I can't leave it out, can I

so in 2017 jorge switches from yamaha to ducati and does not have a great time of it. a lot of weekends, he's just too slow, other times he shoots to the front of a race at the start (typically not great news for the rest of the field in his yamaha days) and then chews up his tyres before gradually dropping like a stone back through the field. at some point that year it became a bit of a running gag - especially when you saw he was the only big name to be picking a soft tyre and just went... buddy we ALL know how this is gonna end....

while this was happening, his teammate dovi was for the first time in his premier class career in championship contention. an extremely close title fight throughout the year with five protagonists until pretty late in the season, it eventually went to a title decider in valencia between dovi and marc. you know, the kind of year where every point counts. the race where marc put a bit of daylight between himself and dovi was phillip island, with marc winning a great dogfight out front while dovi had a bit of a horror show of a weekend. this meant that a lot would have to go right for dovi to have a chance of still winning the title... and sepang was already a match point race for marc

ducati had not won a championship since their 2007 title, courtesy of one casey stoner. after that year, their bike became steadily less competitive every season, reaching a nadir around the 2011-13-ish period. so by the time 2017 rolled around, they wanted this so so badly - even if they wouldn't have expected dovi to lead the charge. dovi had only narrowly beaten out iannone in the 'who's going to be fired for our shiny new lorenzo hire' contest of 2016, and really it was supposed to be jorge who was carrying ducati's dreams on his shoulders. but, never mind, they were throwing everything behind dovi now... no stone left unturned

which brings us, of course, to the subject of team orders. this discourse really took off at the penultimate race of the season at sepang, but was already brewing before that - and in phillip island, satellite ducati rider redding had been told early in the race to let dovi past

here from marc at sepang:

dovi had been in great form all weekend at sepang - and with his wet weather prowess being what it was, really there shouldn't have been any need for team orders at all. but he got a sluggish start, and the race unfolded from there... until eventually jorge was in first, dovi was in second and marc in fourth. in those positions, marc would have clinched the title there

and then, jorge got a message on his dashboard. suggested mapping: mapping 8. pit boards and dashboards and all sorts of boards will feature various codes during races, most of them completely innocuous - but of course they are a healthy source of all sorts of conspiracies. the timing of this one was certainly... notable, and speculation immediately started about how it might be a way of telling jorge that he should swap positions with dovi

jorge didn't end up letting dovi pass - it is questionable whether he really would have done so with what would have been his first ducati win on the line. in the end, he made a mistake that let dovi through so that dovi claimed the win anyway, keeping himself in mathematical contention in valencia. and jorge did say afterwards he was keeping dovi's title hopes in mind, kind of

jorge also said he hadn't gotten any message indicating team orders, and of course nobody at ducati confirmed that mapping eight did have anything to do with team orders

for what it's worth, this is what dovi said about their relationship at this stage:

lovely! let's see what the vibes are like a few months later

anyway, onto valencia. this race was pretty boring despite being a title decider, but the jorge/dovi bits were just unequivocally the weekend's most enjoyable aspect and rather nicely spiced up the whole thing. dovi's chances were always slim going in, given he'd have to win the race and marc would have to barely get any points at all... but still, you never know, right? marc could always crash (narrator: he did almost crash). jorge plays coy early in the weekend about the whole 'helping dovi out thing', and basically just started putting in place...? ... very specific conditions...? under which he'd help:

so during the actual race, dovi got stuck behind jorge in p5, with marc ahead of both of them. valencia is traditionally not a fantastic track to overtake at... so even if dovi had been faster, it's not like he'd have an easy time clearing jorge and cracking on. but they were beginning to drift further away from dani in p3 as ducati watched on, increasingly unamused by what was happening - and the tv cameras were of course kind enough to repeatedly show the ducati box looking deeply unamused. again, they went for the good old mapping eight message, which, hey, that could mean anything! they sure did keep showing it to jorge though, almost like he wasn't paying attention to it

eventually, they abandon all subtlety and go for a pit board message that does just straight-up tell jorge to swap positions. jorge kept ignoring the messages, lap after lap, and he never ended up letting dovi past. eventually they both crashed and marc claimed the title with a p3 finish, so it wouldn't have mattered anyway, but... still. the feeling was that this might things rather awkward inside of ducati

publicly, ducati was extremely keen to smooth over the whole controversy, saying they totally weren't mad at jorge blatantly ignoring team orders. jorge had, after all, explained to them (and the media, repeatedly) that he had totally been intending to help dovi by dragging him closer to dani

Giving his take on events, Lorenzo acknowledged that he ignored Ducati’s instruction because he felt Dovizioso’s chances would be boosted by having him directly ahead. “Even looking at this [dashboard] suggestion, I keep pushing until the end, because I knew it was the best thing for me, for Ducati and for Dovi,” said Lorenzo. “I helped him to improve his pace by one or two tenths, to be as close as possible to the first group. My intention was, and it was the case, that we arrive at the first group. If he had the option to win, I would have gone wide and let him pass. But unfortunately it was not like that. Maybe in some corners Dovi was close and I slow down a little bit his pace, but in general terms, having my wheel in front of him made him improve slightly his pace. I helped him stayed closer to the front group. “I knew Dovi was struggling, I knew his pace during all the weekend, and I knew he was making the best pace of the weekend just in the race. It was [because of the] help from my wheel. I’m happy because I was not wrong. If I was wrong and slowing him, I would be very sorry. But it’s not like that, my feeling was true.”

which, you know. is it really that easy to tell how much faster you are than someone who's sitting on your rear tyre? who's to say. dovi did certainly seem rather keen to get past

anyhow, of course there were plenty of fun dramatics post-race:

'our rider ignored team suggestions not team orders' is a great line, fairs. there's plenty more of this from ducati, some excellent spin doctoring - and dovi was extremely magnanimous about what had happened:

the whole thing was pretty undignified from all non-dovi parties, but it was also very funny so who's to say if it was bad or not

(8) runner-up-gate

let's check in on them in 2018, the second and ultimately last year in which they were teammates. remember that 'undermining morale' quote from above? those are from early 2018, after dovi says he wouldn't be surprised to see jorge elsewhere the following season. so, once jorge has complained that dovi had been trying to put him down his entire career, comes this:

so that's something. jorge, dovi and dani have a three-in-one crash in jerez, after which some fingers are pointed but it all remains fairly civil, and a bit later dovi says that jorge's approach doesn't work at ducati:

by the summer break, jorge's results had gotten better, but it was already too late to save the relationship with ducati and they parted ways. anyway, here's dovi and jorge having another go at it:

And while a rough patch for Dovizioso coupled with breakthrough back-to-back wins for Lorenzo in Mugello and Barcelona have now left the pair just three points apart in the standings, Dovizioso refused to back down from his claim when speaking to Spanish sports daily Marca ahead of the upcoming Brno race. “He’s won two races,” Dovizioso said. “Winning two races does not solve the problem of a year and a half. Lorenzo was not signed to win two races. Therefore I do not change my mind.” When the comments were put to Lorenzo, the three-time champion offered an ardent retort, stating that Dovizioso's rhetoric was proof of the claim he'd made back in April. “I'm a bit fed up with this situation, mainly because when I had trouble and he was winning, I was down there applauding,” Lorenzo told Spanish broadcaster Movistar. “What I said in Argentina - and the comments caused a big surprise - you can see that I was right. “He tried to undermine me, or downplay what I achieve or just attack me. As you can see, I wasn't lying. He's still doing it and now he says my method is not good, according to him.” Lorenzo intimated that Dovizioso was in no position to criticise him, as the Italian could do no better than runner-up to Marc Marquez in a 'perfect' 2017 season. He said: “I think my method has not worked too bad in my career. I've won three MotoGP titles and have 46 wins.” “In my second year in Ducati I'm usually faster than him, but maybe I should look at his method closer if in his best season, with everything going perfectly, he was second. Otherwise he's fourth or seventh usually. I'd tell him to leave me to go my way and to focus on his own and everything will be better, because when you have an angry Lorenzo it's usually worse for you.” 

fair to say that by this point the pretence at civility has mostly been dropped. I'm rather fond of the "lorenzo was not signed to win two races" line, though "when you have an angry lorenzo it's usually worse for you" is also really strong stuff. dovi tries to restore a little bit of peace:

Responding in turn to Lorenzo's tirade, Dovizioso sought to play down the conflict. “Jorge has his ideas and I think they are based on particular things. I don't think like him, but it's not a problem,” he told Movistar. “Everybody creates their own ideas based on what they see and how they live. “I don't think he has everything clear in his head about what's happened, but we continue the relationship that we started last year with respect, there's no particular problem. If he thinks this way, that's his problem."

so basically the classic 'idk what he's on about but it's not my problem' approach to attempting to defuse feuds

(9) twitter-gate

there's a few more on-track battles where it's nicely obvious how badly they want to beat each other, with jorge beating marc just ahead of dovi in austria and then dovi beating jorge in brno. jorge's season is increasingly derailed by injuries, which sets the stage for their next big spat:

The row was sparked by Dovizioso's comments to Sky Italia after qualifying at Sepang on Saturday, as he was asked what he thought of Lorenzo having to pull out of the Malaysian GP weekend with injury. "I don't know the details, I don't want to get into this, it's a bit of a strange situation," said Dovizioso."It happens often in Ducati or to certain riders, but I don't understand the details and I don't want to get into it and give my opinion." When it was put to him he was offering 'cryptic words', he added: "I leave things there, it's not my problem."

pretty vague, yeah. but anyway, I'm sure jorge had a proportionate response to this

Dovizioso's comments prompted a series of irate posts from Lorenzo on Twitter, with his first reaction being "Thank you very much @AndreaDovizioso! You are a real gentleman!". In his next post, he went on to call Dovizioso "an exemplary teammate", adding: "You applaud him under the podium when he wins and then... (That's right, he does not give his opinion, it's not his problem)." After that, Lorenzo labelled Dovizioso "envious" and described him as "a world champion... in 125cc."

the podium thing really bothered him, don't you think. their ducati in-fighting follows that general pattern where dovi says something... a little shady, a little ambiguous, where his intentions aren't entirely obvious... at which point jorge goes all in at fighting back and has a go at dovi - often not as much for what dovi is actually saying, but what jorge thinks dovi is implying. which is based on his understanding of dovi, the image of dovi he's built up in his head over the years, so that he is... predisposed to think ill of the intentions of the 'intelligent' dovi who always knows exactly what he's saying

again, dovi tried to downplay the argument, while simultaneously not exhibiting much patience for jorge's stance:

After the Malaysian GP, Dovizioso was asked about Lorenzo's responses to his comments, and the Italian accused his teammate of reading too much into headlines. He said: “Why should I talk to Lorenzo? I do not waste time on these things. He makes the usual mistake of giving too much importance to what is written, even without the context. "I have not pointed my finger at anyone and I have no problem with Jorge."

if I were ducati, I probably would've let the whole thing blow over given jorge was off soon anyway. but they decided the whole thing was so bad they had to organise a peace summit

Asked about the situation, Ducati sporting director Paolo Ciabatti admitted to Motorsport.com that the Bologna marque has already planned to sit its two riders on Tuesday in Milan to make it clear what its priorities are. Ciabatti said: “It is clear that the interests of Ducati come before personal problems between riders. On Tuesday we will be together in Milan, for the EICMA [motorcycle show] and we have in mind to spend half an hour to sit and talk to Jorge and Andrea. "We want to avoid similar things to what happened last weekend. "I understand that these kinds of situations can happen. Sometimes riders get nervous during a Grand Prix weekend and on a rainy day, with tricky conditions, sometimes they say things they shouldn’t have said."

god knows how that turned out

(10) wow, you guys aren't gonna let this go, huh

late 2020 and jorge's career is already over, while dovi's looks like it will be... paused, at the very least. which is always a good time to check in with riders on how they feel about their rivals - if they're still being nasty you know that shit was personal. from december:

some quality petty material here. "I can't understand his somewhat peculiar mind" vs "he was envious of me since 250cc, but I wanted to give our relationship a chance". note too jorge talking again about how generous he had been in the face of dovi's 2017 successes, and how he feels like this was not reciprocated at all. jorge's complaints don't stop there:

merry christmas!

not the only rider jorge has beefed with post-retirement, but compare and contrast with how he really hasn't been doing any of that with some of his biggest career rivals. valentino, marc, dani - sure, he still talks about the controversies he's had with them pretty regularly (to put it lightly), and he's hardly free of complaints... but mostly it's a distinctly nostalgic tone he's adopting with these guys. admittedly, it helps that none of those three have gone out of their way to say anything particularly inflammatory about jorge. still, the absolute lack of any sort of rapprochement with dovi of all people is pretty funny

bonus: that time when jorge skittled all of marc's rivals

you know how in catalunya 2019, jorge took out like? all of marc's major rivals in that era including himself in one go? with half a decade of hindsight, this was kind of hilarious, and it did also feature jorge having to eat a hell of a lot of humble pie and go to the three other blokes to apologise. anyway I have a lovingly assembled set of screenshots of all three of them emoting in their boxes after the incident, all suffering some form of an existential crisis. here is dovi contemplating the bleak realities of our brief lives on this planet:

truly one of the world's least enthusiastic waves

bonus 2: another one for old time's sake

already posted this elsewhere, but this from late 2023 made me laugh

"jorge came to ducati and thought he was going to beat everything, but in the end he didn't" uh huh

[rotisseries]

rick riordan dickriders on here will be like "why are you complaining about the pjo tv show, go watch the movies and see what a bad adaptation really looks like" ok well listen to the musical watch it on youtube and see what a good adaptation looks like bitch. it can be done. as a fucking stage musical. what did that 15 million per episode do for disney that chris mccarell couldn't

[galaxy-fleur]

Warm comfort after a job well done

Some soft Aruna/Chris because they've been brewing on my mind lately. Nothing like a huge, burly man being a massive little spoon at heart.

Aruna info-post!

Additional one-shot bellow <3

Chris lets out a long, weary sigh as his legs drag him up a route he now knows by heart, smooth, automatic doors sliding open with quiet hum to let him through. His haggard appearance doesn't fit among the squeaky clean lab environment, making him stick out like a sore thumb. He never really did look appropriate in here, though. Even on a good day. He's far too big, too rough around the edges for this pristinely tidy place. And yet, against all glaring contradictions, this was also a place to call home.

It wasn't a surprise to find Aruna right where she usually is, her back turned to him, and her hands far too busy with whatever overcomplicated project that was on her plate this time around. In their own right, they were two workaholics through and through, both living their jobs rather than just going through the motions.

Perhaps that explains how they flowed together so well.

As soon as she looked over her shoulder at her visitor, a broad smile spread across her face. He's been out on an assignment for almost a full week now, and even though that was a tried and true routine for them at this point, it always filled his chest with pure relief whenever he came back to see her safe and sound in his time away. Or, well, mostly safe and sound. While Aruna wasn't deployed out in the field nearly as frequently since her primary responsibilities were mostly limited to the lab, that didn't mean she wouldn't get herself into all kinds of bizarre incidents. Whether it was her natural carelessness or her scientific inclination, he sure didn't like just how frequently she'd get another strangely shaped bruise or a charred hair here and there.

In any case, he was far too tired out of his mind to make any remarks on her being up late for work again. He'd be a major hypocrite if he did. Truth is, he was glad she was still on the job. That meant he could come up here and see her like this.

"-You're back! I figure the mission was a success?"

He virtually collapses into the nearest lab chair with a muffled grunt after dragging his body there. Fatigue is evident in his weary eyes, his shoulders slouching as he rests his hands on his knees. Despite his efforts to project a strong exterior, his typically stern and intense gaze looks even heavier and darker due to sheer tiredness pulling him down. In here, he wasn't a tough leader, carrying the responsibility to be everyone's strength, no matter how dire the situation is. In here, he was just Chris. And Chris was so, so tired.

"...Yeah. We got the job done," he replies with a sigh, his gruff and deep voice sounding rougher and hoarser than usual. He knows he comes off as a little curt, but that's mostly because he doesn't want to discuss the job at the moment. The job is all he thought about for days on end. He had to. He needs to rest his thoughts.

Aruna's smile softens into a more understanding one as she briefly scans his body from head to toe to determine what injuries she could already pinpoint without giving it a closer look. Chris was always plagued by injuries. A few new cuts and some sporadic burn are a familiar staple, and that's on a good day. Neither of them would make a big fuss about it. But that doesn't mean they didn't give a damn, either. There was simply no point in dwelling on something that is utterly inevitable in this line of work. Thankfully, aside from utter exhaustion and a pulling ache in his bruised shoulder, there wasn't anything major to worry about this time around. He's here in the first place in part because of that.

She sets her equipment aside, swiftly removing her gloves, and approaching him in a few quick strides. One of her hands rests on his shoulder, her voice soft as she tilts her head down at him: "...You need rest. Not to be rude, but... you look like hell. Did you even go to medical for a checkup before coming here, hm?"

She knows him too well.

He lets out a trembling breath, his tired eyelids fluttering shut, his body starting to relax at her presence. Chris leans against her touch slightly, responding to her, admittedly, very valid question with a slight, stubborn huff.

"I told the rest of the team to go to medical and get examined while I went straight here. I’ll go to medical later," he mutters out with a slight dismissive wave of his hand that felt as though it took half of his remaining energy to even lift his arm up.

Aruna just sighs in clear disapproval, giving him a light, playful nudge that makes him sway in his current seat in spite of all the muscle supposed to keep him steady. Although she's usually all for consideration and understanding - sometimes a bit too much for his liking - she is also well aware that he's not all that good at taking care of himself properly. Everyone needs rest, and she, unfortunately, knew better than to trust him solely on his word.

"Alright, fine, you can rest here. But you're going to medical later, even if I have to drag your hunky butt up there myself," she hums, beginning to comb through his untidy hair, brushing off some dirt and gunpowder that had become tangled in the short locks. Probably not the most appropriate thing to do in a laboratory of all places, but they could allow themselves to break the rules sometimes. They did that far too many times to count at this point, after all.

As he leans into Aruna's hand, silently savoring the sensation of her touch, he can't help but chuckle. She may grumble, but she's still as soft and caring as ever.

"Hunky, huh?" Chris raises an eyebrow at her, a small but playful smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as he eyes his fiancé. She rolls her eyes at that, grinning down at him knowingly. Slowly, he raises his better arm and wraps it around her middle, bringing her closer to him and into his lap. Aruna just follows his lead and settles against him without protesting or even teasing him on it as she usually would. He doesn't waste much time to bury his nose against her chest, nuzzling his face against her warm skin, and wrapping a muscular arm around her back to keep her close.

Even though he's now indoors, the cold he's had to endure these past several days still bites at his cheeks, and her body heat feels like a divine escape from it. With a tired and heavy exhale, he slumps against her, resting his body on hers, even as he keeps her in his lap. At this point, it almost feels like he's using her as a personal teddy bear because of the way he eases up against her smaller frame.

Her nails lightly stroke his scalp as her hand returns up to continue combing through his hair mindlessly.

"Hunky, handsome, ridiculously stubborn... Hey, that last one seems to be true even now. I'm kind of scared what you're gonna be like when you're sixty," she adds with a playful smile, her other hand resting upon his shoulder, her thumb rubbing small soothing circles into the fabric of his turtleneck. "I'm gonna be dealing with one stubborn old man."

A warm feeling of affection fills his chest as he grins at that. God, he missed her.

"Ah, but you still fell for me anyway," Chris responds with a tired but teasing tone that comes out sounding muffled against her chest, his warm breath rolling over her skin. His muscles gradually relax as he rests against her in silence for a few peaceful minutes, before letting out a small, tired groan. There is a clear difference between her soft and mostly clear skin, which is usually untouched by direct combat or violence, and his hard and calloused body, which has seen far too much action over the years. He sighs: "...I just want to enjoy your company a little longer. The others got it a lot worse than me. Hell one of ‘em got a bullet go straight through his shoulder so he definitely needs that care way more than I do."

Aruna's smile softens a bit as she continues to silently caress his head. Despite him probably being way too heavy on her like this, she doesn't protest or complain to him one bit, taking all of his - admittedly, rather hefty - weight like a true champ. If anything, it's a clear sign of his tiredness, as he is typically very protective and careful about not being too heavy on her.

"...You should rest," she murmurs quietly. "You really need it."

He leans into her touch with a low hum. Almost like a touchstarved tomcat would, practically melting at her simple caresses.

"I just... need you right now. I need you more than sleep… can I be selfish, just this once?" Chris mumbles out faintly, his voice coming out sounding gruff and vulnerable. He is more than aware that it is far from ideal to be covered in sweat, dirt, grime, and the faint remnants of dried blood, especially when he is holding on to his fiancée like this. He is also well aware that he should probably take a shower and go up to the medical to get examined out properly. But even though he's a filthy, unkempt mess, he's far too exhausted, and all he really wants right now is to just be near her, even if it's only for a minute or two. "…I promise I’ll shower after I get some rest, I just… I need to hold you first."

Aruna leans down and kisses the top of his head.

"You can be selfish as much as you want right now," she assured softly, her hand still stroking his hair. "Just rest. I'm not going anywhere."

He nearly melts into Aruna right then and there. He exhales again, his tense muscles unwinding, further relaxing against her. The adrenaline from the mission is gradually fading from his system now that he's at home and in his fiancé's company. He wraps his arms around her waist and buries his face in her chest again, his eyes fluttering closed and his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper.

"…I’m so damn tired." He lets out another trembling sigh, soothed by her presence and the sensation of her soft hands caressing him and petting his hair. The exhaustion seeps into his bones fully, both a relief and a curse in one. "Missed you."

She lets out a quiet 'mhm' in acknowledgement, silently running her fingers through the dried out locks. He guesses his hair is probably far from the softest variety right now. But Aruna didn't mind. She never did. She was always there for him whenever he returned, through the good and the bad, willing to provide any consolation and assistance she could. After all, she understood first hand the cost he had to bear to protect the rest of the world from the bloodshed of bioterrorism. She has never once asked him to stop, even though she was probably just as worried about his safety while he was away as he was about hers. Neither did he.

This was their life, their fight, their purpose. Regardless of how hard and exhausting it was at times, neither of them could see themselves in any other place.

"How about this, big guy… I’ll let you nap here for a bit, but you will be getting your butt up to medical after you wake up. I want you to be properly checked out and treated. And you'll change out of your gear. I’m sure as hell not letting you into our bed smelling like a war zone. You stink," the scientist says sternly, but the hint of a smile can still be heard in her soft tone.

As she relaxes against him, he sneaks in a small and weary smile onto his face. Despite his reluctance to leave her arms, he does admit that she is very much right. He is not willing to argue over something so silly.

"I guess you win. Again." All his senses are now completely relaxed as he holds her against his body, breathing in the scent of her perfume lingering on her skin. Lemon grass and geranium. He nuzzles his nose against her collarbone. "-You better shower with me after all of this is said and done then."

He hears her laugh at his muttered demand, making his smile widen against her.

"Uh-huh, alright, you got yourself a deal, Redfield. Shower together it is," she agrees, her words laced with light playfulness that was like a balm to his battered body. As she lowers herself down, she swiftly pecks his forehead. "Now rest, you big, stubborn idiot."

Another shiver of delight runs down his spine at the simple affection she was spoiling him with. Despite the tiredness and exhaustion he's feeling, the thought of having her warm body pressed against his own in the shower later makes him almost excited about the idea. That's certainly one thing to look forward to, at least.

"I’m your stubborn idiot." With a tired sigh of relief, he presses his face into the soft skin of her neck, practically burying it there, the stubble on his jawline scratching at her slightly, to which she giggles lightly. She can make him completely pliant and docile in her arms, even though he is known for being intense and gruff on the appearance. He whispers against her skin, his voice weary and gravelly: "I’m all yours."

He may have a tendency to appear tough and guarded, but in quiet moments like these, when his body is pliant and docile in her embrace, it became openly clear just how tired and weary he really was under his front of responsibility and leadership.

"You're mine alright," she replies, her fingers slowly massaging the back of his neck, slowly tracing small, soothing circles on his skin. "That means I get to protect you, too. Now rest. You're safe here."

That's all the words he needed to hear.