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writingdungeon · 1 year ago

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Dear Diary

Evelyn and George, I love them so much.

ANGST! GET YOUR ANGST HERE!

POV Evelyn’s Diary - shes 19/20 RN - WILL HAVE TIME SKIPS - None of this is cannon beside pop pop blowing up - BTW George still blows himself up oop - Imagine getting snips of her Diary not the whole book - Im not sorry for how I end this - fight me

I did make a kinda sequel right here featuring Alex a lot more angst over here "The Past Reborn"

"Happy ends"

Today is Spring, 8, 1965.

While working in the clinic today, a miner came in, but he wasn't like the other miners. He almost dropped his cap taking it off while trying to introduce himself. His name is George, and he came in for an injury on his hand. The rope he was holding had slipped from his grip, causing a severe rope burn across his palm.

He apologized for tracking coal dust into the clinic, which no miner has ever apologized for before. I don't think their mothers explained how hard it is to get coal dust out of the bed sheets, but it's my job, so I shouldn't complain much. I just hope George will be okay. I told him he should inform his foreman that it's doctor's orders he not work until his hand heals completely.

Today is Spring, 12, 1965

The doctor was out of town today, having a call outside of town. The clinic ran as usual, although I had to tell some people to return tomorrow to see the doctor. Despite a few cases, today was a good day. Mr. George came back, and his hand has healed phenomenally. It still has a bit more healing to do, but it doesn't look like it will leave a bad scar.

I must admit, when I was holding his hand and inspecting his burn, I couldn't help but feel light-headed. George is not a bad-looking man, and his smile is so kind, His miner's cap always tosses his brown hair, and his eyes always have a twinkle in them. I’m afraid I’m a horrid nurse, feeling these things for someone in my care.

Today is Spring, 20, 1965.

George came by the clinic today. His hand looked better, but that wasn't the reason he came. He brought me a bundle of tulips, thanking me for all the care I had given him. I'm looking at them in my window right now, and I can't help but smile. He is such a kind man. I can't quite figure out how he knew what flowers I fancy, but does that matter? They are so beautiful.

I am sad, though, because George's hand has healed fully, and now he has no reason to come to the clinic. I should be happy—he's healed, and I did my job—but my heart aches knowing I won't see his smile or his twinkling eyes again. Like I said, I must be a horrid nurse.

Today is Summer, 4, 1965

I saw George again today. I was at the market shopping for dinner when I reached for a leek, and my hand touched his. His laughter is much more boisterous than his voice, which was a pleasant surprise. It's nice discovering things about him—he is like a book I don't want to put down.

He offered to cook me dinner as a proper thank you for helping him. I should have said no, but I said yes. Now, I'm sitting here, terrified to go to his home. I've never had anyone other than my mother cook for me. My heart is fluttering.

Today is Summer, 13, 1965

I have heard the number thirteen is unlucky, but I believe it to be lucky. This evening, I heard a knock at my door. It was George, dressed nicely with his hair neatly fixed. He handed me flowers and asked me out to a gridball game.

What do I wear? I want to impress George. I haven't been on a date before.

The date went so well! George's team won, and he was so happy. We got sorbet afterward to celebrate, and George took my hand in his as we walked. I really do believe the number thirteen is lucky.

Today is Summer, 28, 1965

It has been two weeks of me and George going steady, and it feels like a dream. When George finishes his shift in the mines, he comes to the clinic and walks me home. He is such a gentleman, nothing like the other miners I have met. Tonight was just magical. As George walked me to the door, I could tell something was off. His hands sweat when he is nervous, and I swear they were dripping.

He looked at me, his face as red as a beet, and asked if he could kiss me. His lips are soft and warm. It's embarrassing to admit, but his mouth does taste like cigarettes. Oh, I think I am in love, and I don't know what to do.

Today is Winter, 20, 1965

I can't believe it… George asked me out again today. He took me to the cliff to watch the sunset. He was sweating again and refused to look at me. When I asked him what was wrong, he just caged up further. I thought he was breaking up with me, but then he grabbed me as I got up to leave. His words fumbled over each other, and he almost fell over as he rushed to his knee.

George proposed to me. He told me I was the most beautiful woman he had ever met and that he couldn't stop thinking about me since he burned his hand with that rope. I'm so excited—I'm going to be George's wife soon. I just wish Mother was still with me so she could see this.

Today is Fall, 14, 1970

I can't sleep. George had an accident today at the mines. It was terrible; they had to rush him to the city. The doctor sent me home, saying I was a wreck. I can't stop crying, picturing him covered in blood and bruises on the operating table. Someone said he dropped dynamite.

Please, Yoba, don't take my George. After losing my parents, he's all I have. I can't bear to be alone again. He's my everything—the love of my life. The house feels empty without him. Every corner holds memories of him, and I can't imagine life without him.

Yoba, you've always answered my prayers. Please, I was so alone after Mother and Father passed, please don't take him from me as well.

Today is Spring, 2, 1971

They finally allowed George to come home from the hospital, albeit in a wheelchair. But that doesn't matter to me. What matters is that he's home and on the mend. It's a new chapter for both of us, one filled with challenges and uncertainties. Sometimes, George can be a bit rude, but I can see the fear in his eyes.

I made a promise to stand by him no matter what: for better or worse, in sickness and in health, till death do us part. And I intend to keep that promise. I'll be there for George, caring for him and cherishing our time together, no matter what lies ahead.

Today is Winter, 2, 1976

This is a happy day! Me and George weren't sure I could become pregnant, but I am! We are so excited to see our child. George has been working in the nursery non-stop, making sure he can care for our baby, not allowing that wheelchair to stop him.

I have decided on two names: Clara for a daughter and Coy for a son. I don't care what we have; I know they will be perfect.

Today is Summer, 10, 1977

Clara is perfect. With George's rich brown hair and my green eyes, she's a sight to behold. Despite her small stature, her eyes hold the same glimmer of curiosity as her father's. I know she will cause all kinds of trouble as she grows up just like her father.

As I watch George cradle her with such gentleness, his protective gaze never leaving her, and the tears of love that well up in his eyes as he whispers soothing words to her, I'm reminded once again of how blessed I am to have him by my side. In moments like these, it's crystal clear that I've married the most wonderful man.

Today is Summer, 13, 2000

I knew the number thirteen was lucky. Today, our grandson Alex was born. As I held him in my arms, I couldn't help but notice how much he resembled his mother, right down to the tiny button nose that mirrored hers when she was born. George was worried about Clara, complaining that everyone was here to see just Alex and not his baby girl. He has always been such a good father; he will be the best grandfather as well.

Looking at my family as it has grown, I’ve gone from an empty home after my parents passed, to a husband, a daughter, and now a son-in-law and a beautiful grandson. I love my family dearly and can't wait for the years ahead of us.

Fall, 16, 2004 This page is heavily tear stained

We took Alex for the day taking him to the fair as Clara wanted him to experience it. I can't believe we got lucky enough to have Alex… George's scream echoes in my mind… Did he scream with that pain when he was blown up?

We thought the phone call was Clara telling us that they would be late picking up Alex. The phone call shattered our hopes—it was the Zuzu Highway Patrol delivering the tragic news. Clara and her husband are gone… Victims of a drunk driver on the wrong side of the road. They didn't survive.

But we have Alex…. We have to tell our four-year-old grandson he can't go home anymore… He can't see his Mother or Father ever again

Yoba, why didn't you shield them?

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hoba-kirk · 1 month ago

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Last Line Challenge

I was tagged by @king-of-docks 💚

My yesterdays painting as a gift for husband. Not a linework, the last thing I'd work with)

Not shure if I should tag anyone, but let's try)

@mina-m @rude-occurrence @unlucky-leek

#artists on tumblr #cat memes #painting #traditional art #acceptable #acceptable cat #acrylic on canvas

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leavingsunsets · 1 year ago

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Hi hi! If you're still taking requests, then I'd like to request a drabble, fic, or thoughts and whatnot for a Senku x male S/O scenario in which the Science Crew asks if Senku is dating anybody, and while they expect him to say no and that it's "a waste of time", he shares that he actually is in a relationship with someone who's still out there and petrified! Though, while they're all like "who's the unlucky lady?", he explains that S/O is actually a boy! Alternatively, he could not say anything until they all meet S/O and see that they're a boy! Please and thank you!

ur such a politey omg. lovely idea, and this takes place in the ship! RYUSUI'S SHIP OUT AT SEA RAAAAAAAHHHH. ghhhh i RLLY WANT YALL 2 SEE MY ENVISIONMENT OF THIS. THE VEHEMENT CHAOS TO ENSUE

"OᑌT Oᖴ EᐯEᖇYOᑎE?"

[ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴡ'ꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

I feel like it would be during some sort of lax convo maybe in the evening. Like, just letting loose, having fun and talking. People getting to know each other, yada yada yada.

Then, somehow, it turns to the topic of dating.

Everyone's sat around one way or another, Gen by the side, Chrome standing front, Kohaku leaning against the chair Ukyo sits on. Ryusui, of course, in the center of it. Senku's just off to the side picking his ears.

Ryusui kicks it off when Gen recalls about him going on about how he loves all women, bla bla bla.

Gen goes "You must've dated a lot of women to say that then, Ryusui. Though, I'm not surprised..." Like, this guy's an heir to a billion dollar (or yen. or whatvr currency) conglomerate, skilled, and the muscles.

"Even though I hadn't, I'd still say so! Women are beautiful creatures, every one of them. Men, too!" and ugh go bi king go. "Right Ukyo?"

"What's this have to do with me?" Ukyo smiles nervously.

"Awe, cmon, I'm sure you've had at least some experience being as charming as yourself!" ryusui would egg him on, grinning brightly. "You strike me as a popular ladies' guy!"

and i headcanon that ukyo probably did have a lot of admirers back then. oh my gosh like look at him??

Senku yawns. Gen seems to notice him.

Kohaku also like mulls this over. "I also did have a partner once, though it was brief." Chrome gapes. "What?! So even the gorilla was able to date before me?!"

that earns him two hits to the head.

then gen would start teasing chrome like "But hey, atleast youre not the only one in the single for life zone with senku here!"

and senku goes like "huh."

"You're right!" chrome would pose, probably. "Must be because we're scientists! you know how we are, we're too busy being smart to actually-"

"I'm not single."

PAUSE.

almost everyone has like 'HUH' DOUBLE TAKE DOUBLE TAKE REWIND. (kohaku and ukyo probably just goin 'wow. thats actually interesting.')

"WHAT???"

Flabbergasted. ABSOLUTELY. FOR A FEW SECONDS EVERYONE THINKS HES DECIDED TO BE FUNNY. this guy?? THIS GUY?

First to react is ryusui going "AH HA! SO EVEN SENKU CANNOT RESIST THE BEAUTY OF WOMEN!" throwing his arm round his shoulder patting his back like fellow congrats bro

and people start demanding like who is this chick?? WHO SAW HIM AND WENT 'oh yah this is the one. yah.'

and senku raises a brow and goes "its a dude."

"😧😧😧😧😧😧😧"

Ryusui just goes "okay, well who's the lucky gentleman?!"

LIKE EVERYONE HAS A VARIED REACTION FROM UNBOTHERED (kohaku. she probably started picking her ears or something. ukyo takes this time to enjoy the fruitcake and help himself to the food) TO CHROME GOING "🏳️‍🌈😧🏳️‍🌈🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵?????" gen would just go "HOW LONG?? SINCE WHEN???"

Senku just groans and covers his ears are something something goin 'wth whyr u so loud ugh'

"I SAID WHEN????" Gen starts shaking him back and forth. leek hair man goes "uugggggg since middle school? idk i met him after taiju"

"WHAT THE HELL???" cue more shaking that senku feels like his brains vibrating. "YOU BASTARD WHY DIDNT U EVER TELL US THIS?? AND AFTER ALL THAT DRAMA???"

"you didn't ask??? also let go of me!"

head in hands absolutely floored like huh???

even senku goes like 'you couldve actually found that out by just asking taiju himself, or yuzuriha. its not even a secret dude.'

then thus comes the most important question, who is senku's infamous lover??? how is he?? WHERE IS HE?

"im not answering that first question. most likely still petrified. he were out on travel somewhere in the country when it happened."

and they have to go 'oh ok' and simmer in the fact and continue on with their lives as if nothing happened. like a nuke didnt just drop on them.

and senku was damn right because when each of them try to ask taiju on deck the next day he just outright goes "oh yeah senku's got a boyfriend. i'm great buds with him too! how did you know that? :D" cue another round of "HUH" from the other crewmembers on ship

#sen writes !#sen accepts !#sen answers !#thoughts #dcst senku #dr stone fanfic #dr stone senku #senku ishigami #what else should i put here #m!reader #dcst fanfic

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lmae98 · 10 months ago

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Tagged by: @dmc-questions-anon (their post)

Rules: Make a poll of your favorite female characters (no limits - as many or as little as you want) and see which your followers like the most!

@unlucky-leek @space-diablo @hoba-kirk @xxlucyxlolaxx and anybody who wants to!

#I wanted to add more but apparently It has limits #Resident Evil #Castlevania #Devil May Cry #Game World Ladies #Devil May Cry Women #Resident Evil Women #Castlevania Women #Female Characters #Poll Time #Gaming World Ladies

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xxxnightcorequeenxxx · 2 years ago

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(Phantom with his shoaling, schooling in the night.) At first Danny had been weary of the fish-like blobs that had followed him fro the ghost zone. But after a talk with his friend in the GZ he learned that they integral for the ghost zone ecto system as they feed on and neutralize bad ecto. As in all the negatively charged ecto and hazardous ecto. Danny who unfortunately, have to deal with spirits who exude negative ecto, not to mention living in a house where ecto experiments tend to be hazardous, not to mention the negative ecto he produces due to the negative things he experienced. got the attention of the Danios. Unlike Vlad he didn't want to get rid of them as he end up seeing them as more of pets,he saw them as harmless and beneficial as they made his chore of cleaning the lab ten times easier. In contrast to Vlad, who saw them more as flees and did everything in his power to keep them away as he learned pretty quick that you can only keep them out as trying to destroy them with blasts and so on, only made them feed and multiply, mitosis style after eating all the ecto and going big only to spit in to bunch on normal sized ones. The stable portal in amity had at this point, leek in enough ambient ecto that the Danios could stay with Danny at the other side. and over time as Danny did his duties, some his Danios would multiply and gravitate towards people in amity has had been negatively ecto exposed. Lucky or unlucky one of the first one to get a pair of Danio's from him was Paulina. He had explained to her what his ghost friend had told him about them. So of course she told the whole school about her new pets Phantom gave her and what they did. And from there they end up multiplying and migrating to different students in the school. 2-3 was the norm for most, though Phantom was seen as so cool for being able to keep all the colors. But for the most part people tried keeping their favorites. Sometimes that means as many colors as they could or a matching set. Most of them agreed that Fenton was lucky to get as many as Phantom had but considering what was in the Fenton home it was kinda a no-brainer, that he would be able to "support" more of them. Danny also being the space nerd he is also definitely did not squeal when he found some of the coloed had space-themed names. And decided to keep that for their names. The (Yellow) Glowlight Danio, he named Solaris. White - Yoma Danio, he named Selene. Green- Electric Green Danio, he named Nishimura. Red - Starfire Red Danio, he Named Starfire. Orange - Sunburst Orange Danio, he kept the name Sunburst as he liked it. Blue - Cosmic Blue Danio, Cosmic was kept for the same reason. Purple - Galactic Purple Danio, he also liked Galactic. Pink - Rosy Danio was named Nebulae.

#danny phantom #glow fish #au #danio #my art

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verladyweek · 1 year ago

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VXLENTINE'S DAY 2024: Masterlist

Fanart

Hand Holding Comic Strip by @hoba-kirk

Fanfiction

What A Pair by @ladynamida

Rubble Wall (English) by @lmae98

Rubble Wall (Spanish) by @lmae98

Like the Poets Say by @sonderlativ

Waiting For Cupid by @unlucky-leek

Misc

Image Edit (CIEN AÑOS BY PEDRO INFANTE) by @lmae98

#vergil x lady #verlady #vergil/lady #devil may cry #dmc #dmc fanfiction #dmc fanart #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc vergil #dmc lady #vxlentine #vxlentine's day #masterlist #tysm for your lovely contributions 💙

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mysteryshoptls · 2 years ago

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SR Riddle Rosehearts - Lab Coat Vignette

"This is my 'intuition.'"

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Riddle's Room]

[knock, knock]

Riddle: Please, come in.

Trey: Excuse me. Riddle, have you finished filling in all of the paperwork for the Housewarden meeting?

Riddle: I've long been finished. Here you go.

Trey: Oh, wow… That's a lot. This all goes to the Headmage, right?

Riddle: That's right. There are still other documents I need to finish tidying up, so I'll be counting on you.

Trey: Got it, I'll bring it to him right away. Make sure you don't push yourself too hard.

Trey: I'll be off then.

Riddle: Goodness… Trey has always been a bit of a worrier.

Riddle: Although, if I rest now, I won't be able to get everything done according to my schedule. I'll try to finish this up quickly.

Riddle: Hmm, all that is left now is… the registration forms for the Inter-Dorm Magical Shift Tournament.

Riddle: …I see, since Azul prepared these, there are an abundance of regulations to go through. It will be quite a lot just to read through it.

[rain starts to fall]

Riddle: Hm, is that rain…? I was so focused on checking the documents that I didn't even notice.

Riddle: It's coming down pretty hard. The forecast hadn't even given any warning for this.

Riddle: I wonder if Trey brought an umbrella with him when he left...

[Cafeteria]

―The next day

Trey: Achoo!

Riddle: !

Trey: Whew… Sorry for sneezing over the food.

Cater: Trey-kun, you sick?

Riddle: Really, now… This is why I told you to stay warm and sleep early yesterday.

Trey: Haha, that's my bad. I wanted to finish all my assignments, so I ended up staying up later than I meant to.

Trey: So it's just a self-management issue. Riddle, it's not your fault.

Riddle: Humph…

Cater: Hey, wait! Why's Trey-kun apologizing when he's the one who's sick and Riddle-kun is perfectly fine?

Cater: Obviously, there's something going on here that I don't know! Tell mee, let me in on it～

Trey: I mean, it's not really anything important…

Riddle: Yesterday, it started raining while he was out running an errand for me.

Cater: Ahh～ yeah, I guess I remember it raining. That was super unlucky, huh, Trey-kun?

Trey: Yeah… Achoo!

Riddle: Trey, do you have a fever?

Trey: I took my temperature this morning, but… I think it's looking good for now.

Riddle: Once you finish dinner, you should check your temperature once more. It doesn't seem like you have much of an appetite, either…

Cater: He's right, you haven't eaten anything. Why don't you go to the infirmary later?

Trey: Both of you are overreacting. I'm fine. I'm just a little lethargic, is all.

Cater: Then at the very least, you should have some soup, or something else good for you like that. Want me to go buy some for ya?

Trey: Like I said, you're blowing this way out of proportion. You don't have to do anything that… Achoo!

Trey: Urgh…

Cater: Uh-huh, see, like I said. Hey, Riddle-kun… I'm going to go take Trey-kun back to the dorm.

Riddle: …

[Library]

Riddle: Trey's cold has completely taken a turn for the worse. At this rate, my own ability to care for my own dorm residents will be called into question.

Riddle: Let's find a home cooking recipe book… Here it is. Hm, the soups listed here that would be good to help warm up someone with a cold are…

Riddle: Spicy curry soup, tomato and chili soup, leek and pork habanero soup…

Riddle: These all seem like they would warm anyone up, but they don't seem very gentle on the stomach…

Lilia: You there, boy, is something troubling you?

Riddle: Oh! You are Lilia-senpai from Diasomnia… Whenever did you get behind me…?

Lilia: Your nose was really dug into that book. What're you looking for?

Lilia: …Oh, you've got a recipe book there in your hands, I see.

Riddle: Ah, no, this is…!

Lilia: So, are you trying to cook something? I thought that was your Vice Housewarden's job.

Riddle: …Ordinarily, it would be, yes.

Lilia: Haha, I see. Looks like Trey really got hit hard by his cold despite his protesting.

Riddle: Eh? How did you know of that?

Lilia: We're in the same class, after all. He'd been sneezing all morning, so anyone'd notice.

Lilia: Which means, I guess you're in here searching for a light soup that would be gentle on his stomach to make for him?

Riddle: …He came down with that cold because of me.

Lilia: Hmm, seeing you so distraught and out of your comfort zone brings back memories.

Lilia: It takes me back, how old was Silver back then, again…?

Riddle: I believe it would be a major over-exaggeration to say I am distraught. …I will be fine once I find the right recipe.

Lilia: I bet you won't find it.

Riddle: Wh-Why would you say that?

Lilia: Kufufu. Because I've searched for one before, too.

Lilia: A mild soup to chase away a cold is much too easy to be found in recipe books.

Lilia: You can just feel the arrogance of those professional chefs.

Riddle: No… Well then, I'll simply have to think of another dish.

Lilia: Wait, wait, no need to rush off. How about I help teach you something you can make instead of soup.

Riddle: Eh!?

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Kitchen]

Riddle: I never realized how cold the kitchens get at night…

Lilia: Well, yeah, there's a lot of things that use fire here. Obviously, it'll be colder when there's no one else around.

Lilia: Anyway, let's get down to business. We need to finish making the soup before Trey goes to sleep.

Riddle: Right. Let me think, first… Should I retrieve the pot?

Lilia: Mhm. And you'll also need water and the seasonings.

Riddle: How much water should I use? …And please don't just say "use your intuition."

Lilia: You can just measure out how much you want him to drink in a cup and add that. As for seasonings, that'll be based on how much flavor you want to give it.

Riddle: How much I want him to drink… Would three cups be enough?

Lilia: Oho, jumping right in. Well, that should be fine. As they always say, "go big or go home."

Lilia: Next, you'll want to add a few spoonfuls of consommé for each cup of water… How many spoonfuls was it again? Eh, probably about 4.

Riddle: I understand. Then that would be a total of 12 spoonfuls.

Lilia: Now all that's left is to season it and let it simmer, but now comes the hard part. Everything from here will be gut feeling.

Riddle: Urgh… That is what I was hoping to avoid… Can one really create a delicious dish while relying on instinct…?

Riddle: So then, what would my intuition say to put in the soup? Should I start with salt?

Lilia: Hm. Salt is a fundamental ingredient, but the best ingredient is putting in what you want to. For example… What is your favorite food?

Riddle: That would be a strawberry tart for me. However, that cannot be added to a soup.

Lilia: You think? I think it would increase your appetite if it's made with something that you truly like.

Lilia: Choose ingredients chock full of nutrients to also add to the soup. Like ginger, eggs, garlic…

Lilia: Oh yes, bananas and yoghurt were common ingredients in my home.

Riddle: You'd really put those in as well…?

Riddle: Although, it is important to consume the proper nutrition efficiently, so you may have a point… How much should I put in?

Lilia: That's where your intuition comes into play!! The more nutrition you put in, the faster he'll get better.

Riddle: Is that so… Then, I'll add more…

Lilia: Back when I made this, I remember I added chili peppers.

Lilia: With one bite, Silver jumped out of bed as if whatever curse he was under had been lifted.

Riddle: W-Wouldn't a stimulant like that be detrimental here? …Alright, I think that's enough seasoning now.

Lilia: Oh, you're not going to add anything else?

Riddle: That's right. I pictured Trey and what I thought he'd like… This is my "intuition".

Lilia: I see, then. Well, all that's left is to bring it to a boil and it'll be done.

Riddle: I understand. Is medium heat alright…? …For some reason, I feel like the smell its giving off is… too intense…

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Trey's Room]

Trey: …Achoo!

[knock, knock]

Trey: Hm…? Who's knocking at this hour?

[door opens]

Trey: …Ah.

Riddle: That's my line. You shouldn't still be up "at this hour."

Trey: I had been sleeping ever since I got back to the dorm, I just woke up. I felt a little bit better, so I was just finishing up some homework.

Trey: But never mind that, what do you have there in your hands…?

Riddle: …It's soup. This is the first time I've made anything like this, so I can't vouch for the taste…

Riddle: If you don't want to eat it, you don't have to. I can eat it for breakfast tomorrow.

Trey: No, I'll take it. Thanks for making it for me.

Riddle: Right. Well then, goodnight…

Trey: …[slurp]

Riddle: W-Wait, why are you eating it right now!? Go relax and eat it after I'm gone!

Trey: [slurp… cough, cough] Well, you went through the trouble of making it for me, so I thought I'd tell you how it came out.

Trey: It's not bad for your first time. Thanks.

Riddle: …There's no way… Achoo!

Trey: Riddle?

Riddle: Urgh… Your room is a little cold, Trey. It'll be hard to get better when it's like this.

Riddle: You should raise the temperature and go to sleep quickly.

Trey: Right, you too, Riddle. It looks like it'll be pretty cold tonight.

Riddle: Even now, you're still… It's fine, you need to worry more about yourself than me, Trey.

[School Infirmary]

―The next day

Riddle: …Achoo! Urgh… I feel so cold…

Jade: Riddle-san, please take care. I shall return to the classroom, now.

Riddle: Right, thank you for bringing me to the infirmary during class… Achoo!

Riddle: It doesn't look like the nurse is in, but there are beds available. I can probably take care of myself from here…

Riddle: Whew… First, I need to check my temperature… And get an ice pack…

Riddle: How negligent could I be? I never thought I would catch a cold as well…

Riddle: Ah, I forgot… to change out of my lab coat…

Riddle: But it's… too much work… to take off…

Riddle: …Zzz… Zzz…

Riddle: …Hm?

Riddle: Ah! Oh no, what time is it!?

Trey: School has already ended for the day, Riddle.

Riddle: Trey… Why are you here?

Trey: I heard that you were resting here in the infirmary, so I came to check up on you. How are you feeling?

Riddle: I'm feeling much better now… Achoo!

Trey: It looks like its not gone yet. You should take the rest of today to sleep. We can head back to the dorm once you're doing better.

Riddle: Hah… Looks like we've completely swapped positions from yesterday…

Trey: Haha, guess you're right.

Trey: Thanks for the soup. I drank it all.

Riddle: …You're a fool.

Trey: Hm?

Riddle: Nothing. I can walk with no issue now, so I'll return back to the dorm to rest.

Trey: Do you need someone to hold on to?

Riddle: I don't ne… Achoo!

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #riddle rosehearts #trey clover #cater diamond #jade leech #lilia vanrouge #twst riddle #twst trey #twst cater #twst jade #twst lilia #twst translation #mention: crowley #mention: silver

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unlucky-leek · 2 months ago

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I went to a convention yesterday and picked up a certain little guy...

He's so cute ahhh

As a fan of Leon since like 2004 or something, having a tiny, hand-sized Leon is a dream come true 😍

I'll have to make him meet my Dante at some point!

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shadowweaver06 · 10 months ago

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If you observe, I hope that you all had a lovely Rosh Hashanah. Mine was busy, to say the least. And the entirety of the chag was overshadowed by Oct 7th, which, while expected, did add a tint of melancholy to the holiday. I will admit, the level of the holiday being overshadowed by Oct 7th happenings by my shul was a bit offputting, to say the least, and I found myself feeling wrong-footed. Our rabbi talked about it both on Erev RH and during morning services on Thursday - and if I had been smart, I'd have heeded his disclaimer about the topical discussion of his sermon on Thursday morning before opting to sit through it. Instead, I did sit through his entire speech, and it left me feeling uncomfortable. Now - I've gotten pretty used to the array of feelings around what is happening with Israel and Gaza and whatnot. As much of a peacenik as I am, I still find myself vacillating between anger, grief, frustration, and rage, both about what happened on Oct 7th and what is still happening both to Israeli citizens and to other non-combatants unlucky enough to get caught in the way, and even more so now with Lebanon and Iran getting themselves involved in the fray.

Our Rabbi's discussion rehashed all the atrocities of last year (which I could have done without the reminder of... like we've all borne witness to it, repeatedly), and then veered off into congratulating the congregation for their increased Zionism. Which I found... weird. Like, sure, congratulate us for being more observantly Jewish and involved in our community, and engaged in doing mitzvot, but congratulating us for an ideology just seems... I don't know, odd? I just found it troubling, and it was not the type of message I expect to hear during a holiday sermon I guess - I expected more of a hopeful, 'dawn of a new year' message. (I will admit, this is my first time spending HHD at a Conservative shul, so maybe this is the norm and I'm just not used to it, I don't know). It was also heavily flavored with some us-vs-them rhetoric, which I also did not care for. (Ultimately, though, I very much lack the generational trauma of my co-religionists (I was not raised as a Jew), so I expect that lack of trauma is strongly flavoring my view on things). I don't begrudge people for feeling the way they feel - it's certainly valid. I suppose this is a lot of what the congregation here wants to hear, which is why he wrote it, but... I don't know if it was what I needed to hear in that moment. Like I'd already been reflecting on the last year and what we've lost as a community as I was praying - and having that note layered on top of it made it feel even more bitter. 2nd day was better - but we joined our friends with their kids for the family service, which was shorter and more interactive (since we're the only other folks they know at this shul, they asked us to be with them so they didn't feel so abnormal, since they are new to this shul as well). We went to a RH party thrown by a friend on 2nd night - we catered the majority of the food (we smoked an enormous brisket, I made gluten free challah and regular challah with rasins, and apple honey cake, vegetarian matzah ball soup, and diri djon djon (it's our little taste of Haiti - and a staple of our shabbat table, which is usually a mix of Kosher-fied Haitian or lebanese/middle eastern dishes). On Friday evening I had company over for Shabbat - my friends (who aren't Jewish) came with their daughter and one of our other Jewish friends who needed a break from her kids came by, and I made an absolutely amazing pomegranate molasses roasted chicken recipe, ktiztzot with leeks and swiss chard, roasted squash and root vegetables, glazed carrots, a tossed salad, and a really tasty herb salad with apples and pomegranate seeds (which I am absolutely making again for Sukkot because it was amazing). Saturday night after Havdalah, we walked down the street and made an appearance at my best friend's birthday party, and I am 98% certain that I ate my body weight in tacos. Yesterday I woke up with a terrible cold. And now I'm sitting in bed typing this after waking up for the second time today after sleeping for 99% of yesterday, and a good chunk of the day today. So yeah. That's been the last week or so in a nutshell. Still feeling rather off-kilter given that it's the Oct 7th anniversary, and I sometimes feel like as a convert, my opinion doesn't really matter on these things - I don't have family ties to Israel, just religious/emotional/theoretical ties, so it's something I don't really feel like I sometimes have a right to have an opinion on, because so many other people do, and have lost someone either to the violence on the 7th, or to subsequent skirmishes. It's just a weird, somber, and reflective time, and I'm spending my day praying for an end to the cycle of violence, and for something approaching lasting peace for folks who live there. If nothing else, that is something I can do, and don't need to voice a personal opinion on.

(Forgive me my rambling - I'm all manner of doped up on cold medicine).

#judaism #rosh hashanah #high holidays #october 7th

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hisuianhellion · 2 years ago

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Oh, by the by! I got an MRI done thanks to Matt settin' up the appointment. How the FUCK we got "next day", I do not understand. I am grateful. I am still confused.

Torn ACL. It's basically the "support beam" of the knee, if you wanna simplify things. It's what keeps the knee's shit in place a good deal more than others. That goes, others are about to go, too. I got unlucky. There's a pretty bad slice in another spot, too. Lateral Meniscus, bit behind my knee. It's all easy to fix. Out-patient surgery, in and outta the hospital. One problem.

There's already scar tissue forming. Which means even if they do end up fixing it... it's gonna be pretty badly stiff. The Medicinal leeks I was using, uh... well they "worked". And that ironically made things worse. Whoops.

Still. The major problem is fixable, and I have an appointment for tomorrow. They're estimating a 3 month recovery period based on exercising it and giving things. And that's "full" recovery. I should be WALKING within a month.

#pokemon roleplay #pokemon rp #pokemon irl #rotomblr #rotumblr #rosy ramblings #Time Is A Circle Arc

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deletedscenegirl · 16 days ago

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chapter fifty eight – onwards

in which a girl raised to be a weapon learns how to heal instead. in which dragons trust her more than people ever did. in which she meets a boy who speaks in firelight and stubborn hope, and maybe — just maybe — she lets herself be loved. a story about magic, softness, survival, and the slow, terrifying choice to stay. 🐉 oc x hiccup · slowburn · httyd 3 🕯️ found family · dragon lore · enemies to “don’t leave”

The storm roared beyond the thick timber walls of the Great Hall like some ancient beast clawing to get in. Rain pounded against Berk’s rooftops in a furious rhythm, thunder cracking like the sky was being split in two. Wind howled through the gaps in the rafters, rattling banners and whistling beneath the eaves. But inside — within those age-darkened walls lined with dragon trophies, fire-warmed stones, and the lingering scent of smoke and stew — the chaos was entirely its own.

The firepit blazed hot and wild at the center of the room, throwing golden sparks that danced like fire sprites. Torches hissed along the walls, their flames bending under each gust of wind that slipped through the heavy doors. The smell of wet fur and burning pine mingled with mead and tension. Vikings jostled shoulder to shoulder around the long wooden tables, shouting over one another, their voices colliding like blades. Mugs clashed, fists thudded against tabletops, and stew sloshed across platters, ignored.

At the far end, elevated just enough to command attention, Hiccup stood tall — or tried to. His soaked leather tunic clung to him from the mad dash across the storm, his damp hair curling messily around his temples. Despite the chill outside, his expression was set, his jaw locked in quiet resolve. Beside him, silent as a shadow, Toothless crouched low. The dragon’s sleek black body was coiled like a loaded spring, his tail curling and uncurling with every shout in the hall. His green-gold eyes scanned the room with patient calculation, the faintest growl thrumming in his chest — not angry, but alert. Ready. Watching.

"Alright, alright, everybody!" Hiccup called out, his voice cutting through the din. He raised both hands above the crowd, commanding them not with force, but familiarity. “Settle down, please!” His voice echoed slightly off the high rafters. It earned a pause — barely.

Fishlegs, hunched near the end of one bench, roused at the sound. His face was flushed with either worry or mead — likely both — and he blinked owlishly before lifting one slow, trembling finger as if to make some academic point. Then, with a defeated wheeze, he promptly slumped forward and disappeared under the table in a heap of fur and maps.

There was a moment’s stillness. Then—“Let me at him!” Spitelout bellowed, knocking his bench backward as he surged to his feet, chest puffed and fists already clenched.

“I’ll give him a piece of my mind!” Hoark roared, standing beside him and brandishing his fists like cudgels. “And by mind, I mean fists!” He swung wide — not at any particular target — and managed to clock the unlucky Viking beside him, who toppled backward into a half-eaten bowl of leek stew with a splatter and a groan.

The hall erupted into wild cheers.

Hiccup rolled his eyes, the look of a leader whose patience was fraying at the seams. “Did you miss the part where we almost died?” he snapped, voice sharper now. “Have you seen Kaela’s house?”

The words landed like stones in a pond. Ripples spread. Nervous laughter flickered through the crowd, quickly swallowed by murmurs — and then silence as Hiccup stepped forward again.

His voice dropped lower, steadier. “This is a new kind of enemy. And I underestimated him. That’s on me.” His fingers curled into fists at his sides. “But I will not do that again.”

Snotlout, leaning coolly on the edge of a table like a rooster preening in a storm, smirked and rose to his feet. He thumped one fist into his chest. “We’re Vikings! We don’t run from a fight. At least I don’t.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder toward Eret. “You might.”

Eret blinked once. Slowly. His face said everything

“Seriously?” But his voice was calm. “I agree with Hiccup.” He didn’t bother sparing Snotlout another glance. “We haven’t seen the last of Grimmel. He’s not like the others. He’s a predator — methodical, patient. He won’t stop until he gets what he wants.”

“I’m with Eret,” Valka said quietly, rising from her place near the hearth. Her voice, though gentle, carried like the hum of a bowstring drawn taut. “We have to take this threat seriously.”

She met Hiccup’s eyes. Her nod was small, but sure.

Around the room, the mood shifted — not into calm, but into wariness. The grumbling grew quieter. Unease crept through the crowd, like wind through reeds.

Hiccup turned back to face them — all of them. Familiar faces, etched in firelight and worry. Friends, family. His people. He searched their eyes for understanding and found mostly fear.

“Grimmel’s just a sign of the times,” he said, his voice like steel under cloth. “Our enemies are getting smarter. More determined. We’re not just overcrowded anymore — we’re exposed. Vulnerable.”

The weight of it hung in the air like smoke.

“Short of full-blown war and risking everyone we love, I don’t…” He paused, swallowing hard. His voice faltered — just for a second. “I don’t see a way of staying here any longer.”

The eruption was instant. Protests, demands, disbelief. The hall turned riotous again, voices overlapping in a chorus of panic and fury. And then—

THUNK.

A blade slammed into the wooden table with a clean, brutal finality. The sound was so sharp it felt like it cut through the storm itself. All heads whipped around.

Kaela stood — tall, resolute — her carved staff buried halfway into the oak. Her eyes were clear and unflinching as she scanned the room. “Hey!” she barked. “Hear him out.”

The room fell still. The fire cracked. The wind outside howled. She turned to Hiccup, her face unreadable, but her nod told him everything he needed to know — I’m with you.

He nodded back, a flicker of gratitude in his chest. “If we want to live in peace,” Hiccup said into the hush, “with our dragons… we need a better plan.”

Gobber leaned forward, his one good eye narrowing, the other hidden beneath a heavy brow. “So what are you saying, Chief?”

Hiccup looked at him, then at everyone. “I’m saying…” He drew in a breath. “We have to disappear. Off the map. Take the dragons somewhere no one can find them.”

A stunned silence followed. Mugs slipped from fingers. Jaws dropped. Hoark squinted as if he hadn’t heard right. “And where might that be?” the older Viking grunted.

Kaela’s gaze sharpened. She straightened, her voice calm but certain. “He’s talking about the Hidden World.”

The air in the hall seemed to still completely. A single log cracked in the fire.

“The hidden what?” Phlegma repeated, baffled.

“Out to lunch,” Ruffnut muttered under her breath, nudging Tuffnut.

Hiccup gave her a long-suffering look before addressing the hall again. “My father was obsessed with it when I was a boy. He believed it was the ancestral home of all dragons. A place far beyond the edge of the world.”

He reached into his vest and unfolded a worn, creased parchment — the corners soft from years of handling. Stoick’s rough sketches sprawled across the page: compass marks, guesses, dreams. “He made maps. Notes. He searched his whole life. I think it may be the only answer we have left.”

His voice softened. “We’re dragon people. It’s where we belong.”

The murmurs returned — no longer angry, but confused, hesitant. They were beginning to understand. The enormity of it was sinking in.

Hiccup’s eyes swept the room one more time. “I know this is our home,” he said, voice quieter now. “My father left me to protect it.”

He looked down, the ache heavy in his chest. Then he raised his head, and this time, his voice was clear. Strong. “But Berk is more than a place.” He turned, looking not at the walls, but at the people. The dragons curled near the hearth. The riders. His mother. His friends. “And it’s not these buildings. Or the cliffs. Or the snow. Berk is us.”

He met Kaela’s eyes last. “It’s the people. The dragons. The way we fight for each other.” His voice wavered, just enough to sound like truth. “I say Berk is wherever we go.”

A hush fell again, deeper than before. Even the storm outside seemed to pause. Then—Tuffnut shot upright, one arm raised like a victorious hero on a sinking ship.

“I’m with him!” he declared, hair flying, eyes wild. “Who else?!”

And chaos, once more, was reborn. But this time, it was the kind that built something new.

The ruins still smoked faintly.

Ash drifted through the air in soft, languid spirals, catching in the weak shafts of late sun that filtered through the canopy. It looked almost peaceful—like snow. But it wasn’t. It smelled like ruin. Like burned wood and scorched fabric and something older still: grief, unsettled and hanging like fog.

Kaela stood at the edge of the wreckage that had once been hers. Just hers. A temporary home cobbled together in the lull between flights, a sanctuary built from salvaged beams and half-stitched silence. Now, it was little more than a blackened skeleton of what it had been. The walls had collapsed inward, charcoaled bones leaning uselessly against each other. Her roof had caved. Her shelves were gone. Even the herbs she’d hung carefully along the window had turned to powder in the heat.

And still—still she stepped forward.

Her boots crunched over the brittle remains of her own life. Half-scorched glass cracked underfoot, and the scent of burnt parchment clawed its way up her throat. The wind had died down sometime in the hour since the flames; now it only whispered through the trees, quiet as if the forest itself was holding its breath.

Kaela crouched low beside a corner beam, hands sifting gently through the rubble. Her fingers were blackened with soot by the time she found them—tucked beneath the edge of a broken rafter, buried but not lost.

Her books.

They were warped. Pages curled in places, bindings warped from the heat, and most of the spines had blistered open like old wounds. But they were there. Somehow. Intact. She hesitated for a second, then reached for the one on top.

The leather cover stuck slightly to the ash. Her hands trembled faintly as she brushed it off, fingertips grazing the worn edges. Runes glimmered faintly across the cover—dull, now, but still visible. Still alive. The symbols she had once traced half-asleep by candlelight. The ones her mother had taught her before the world grew sharp.

Kaela exhaled, breath catching soft and low in her chest.

“…Still here.”

She didn’t know if she was talking to the book. Or herself.

Behind her, boots shifted on gravel.

The sound was light, careful. Not urgent. Not a threat. Still, she didn’t turn—she just closed her hand gently around the spine of the tome and bowed her head for one more quiet breath.

Then came his voice.

“Hey.”

She glanced back over her shoulder.

Hiccup stood among the wreckage, tall and unmoving, the wind ruffling his hair in uneven waves. His face was drawn. Tired in the way he got when the weight pressed in from all sides. His brows were furrowed not in pity—but something deeper. Guilt. A kind of helplessness he rarely let anyone see.

His eyes scanned the ruin like he wanted to fix it. Like if he stared hard enough, it might turn back into something whole.

Kaela gave a faint, weary smile, brushing soot from her cheek with the back of her hand. “Hey.”

He stepped forward, picking his way over the debris. His prosthetic made a soft clink against a fallen nail, but he barely flinched. His gaze landed briefly on the scorched rafters, then on the satchel she had started to fill.

“I’m sorry about…” He gestured, vaguely, at the devastation. His voice caught on the word. “All this.”

Kaela gave a small shrug, sliding another scorched volume into her bag. “It’s alright,” she said, though her voice didn’t quite match the words. “I’m the one who panicked. I could’ve… used my powers. I could’ve stopped it.”

“You got flung out of the house, Kaela.” His tone was dry, but soft. “I think it’s valid.”

She let out a breath—short, but real. Almost a laugh. The corners of her mouth lifted, just barely. “Still got this,” she said, holding up the rune-marked book in both hands.

Hiccup moved closer, gaze softening. “That’s the one your mother gave you, right?”

She nodded. “I thought it was gone.”

He looked down at the tome, then back at her. “It survived. That’s something,” he said gently.

Kaela stared at the book for a long moment before her shoulders sagged under the quiet weight of it all. Her voice was quieter when she spoke again. “Hiccup… what’s our plan?”

He was silent for a beat too long. His jaw tightened like he didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to admit that there wasn’t one. Not really. He leaned his back against what remained of the nearest wall—just a half-scorched post—and exhaled.

“I don’t know,” he said at last. His voice was low. Raw around the edges. “I keep thinking if I just keep you all moving, keep us ahead of it, it’ll be okay. That it’ll stop chasing us. But—” he gave a short, sharp breath, “—every time we land, it catches up.”

Kaela’s brow furrowed. “So what do we do? Just keep running?”

He met her eyes—tired, but resolute. “I keep you safe,” he said. “That’s the plan. That’s the only one I’ve got. We keep flying. We keep trying.”

“And if this place we’re heading for—this safe haven—doesn’t exist?”

He paused again. Then said, more quietly: “Then at least we’re safe together.”

It wasn’t a solution. But it was an answer. And somehow, that steadied her more than she expected.

She stepped forward, careful not to slip on the ash, and closed the last bit of space between them. Her hand found his. His fingers curled into hers without hesitation.

For a while, they didn’t speak.

Forehead to forehead, they just breathed—in the shadow of what was lost, standing in what little they had left. Not warriors. Not leaders. Just two exhausted souls who had nothing left to carry except each other.

“I hate this,” Kaela whispered.

His breath was warm on her skin. “I know. You can always leave."

“You keep saying I can leave,” she murmured. “Like that’s something I’d ever do.”

He didn’t respond right away. Then, with a crooked half-smile, he said, “Just letting you know your options.”

She laughed under her breath—a quiet, tired thing. “Like you wouldn’t search the whole world to find me.”

He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. “I would.”

She smiled faintly.

There was a long silence between them. One that didn’t ache quite so much. Kaela leaned into his chest, her forehead against his collarbone, her hand still locked in his.

“As long as you’re there,” she said quietly, “I’d fly to the end of the world with you.”

Hiccup’s arms slipped around her in answer—no words, no vow. Just his breath against her hair, steadying her. She closed her eyes. The wind shifted. Carried the last of the smoke away.

And for a moment, just a moment, the ruins didn’t feel so heavy.

The wind carved through the sky in sharp, biting gusts, pushing against the tide of dragons that soared in steady rhythm above the sea. A sky full of wings — leathery, scaled, feathered — glided through the towering cumulus clouds, the last light of day glowing like fire along their edges. The entire Berkian flock was airborne, carrying everything they could salvage: supplies, tools, crates of food… and two Viking ships tethered between dragons like floating sleds. One creaked beneath the weight of gear and weapons. The other was filled with sheep — anxious, wide-eyed sheep awkwardly dressed in dragon costumes. One glanced warily at a passing Monstrous Nightmare who gave it a sniff, unimpressed.

At the front of the flock flew Hiccup, his silhouette outlined against the sinking sun. Toothless glided beside him, silent and alert, cutting through the clouds with practiced ease. Around them, the rest of the Riders maneuvered with precision — Astrid and Stormfly wheeling tight arcs, Valka flying with solemn focus, even Ruffnut and Tuffnut managing to hold formation, sort of.

Fishlegs floundered behind the line, wedged between bulkier dragons as he tried to coax Fishmeat, the screaming baby Gronckle, into calming down.

“Ah — excuse me! Coming through, just— if I could just—" he weaved awkwardly between wingspans, clutching the saddle. "Fishmeat, look! Eat your rocks, buddy. Eat your nice, quiet—”

Fishmeat responded with a wet burp that launched a molten rock slug. It shot narrowly past Snotlout’s head.

“GODS!” Snotlout swerved. “People who fly with babies are the worst!”

Gobber’s dragon, Grump, lagged behind, snoring as he flew. Gobber leaned forward, struggling to keep pace, maneuvering around Astrid and Valka to catch up with Hiccup. His expression was both amused and deeply skeptical.

“I feel like I’m always askin’ you this question,” he began, voice strained as Grump suddenly dipped mid-air, snoring louder.

“WHOA— wake up, Grump! Wake up! Come on—!” Gobber thumped the dragon’s side and straightened again. “Is there an actual plan, or are we just wingin’ it?”

Hiccup didn’t turn, eyes locked on the horizon.

“Just keep flying,” he said quietly. “Until we reach the end of the world.”

Gobber glanced ahead, then back at him, muttering under his breath. “Ah. Seems… sensible.”

Farther back in the formation, Veilstorm flew with quiet effort beneath Kaela, his wings steady but his flight tense — not from pain, but something deeper. His energy, once volatile and bright, felt quieted now. Still guilty. Still ashamed. But trying. Understanding. Like a storm trying to gather itself back into a sky.

Kaela sat upright on the saddle, steadying her breath against the ache in her chest that hadn’t faded since the fire.

She still wasn’t sure if it had been her fault.

But she did know this: they were flying toward something unknown, and she would follow — not because it was easy.

But because he was leading.

Because Hiccup was still flying.

And because she'd told him: As long as you're there, I'd fly to the end of the world with you.

The clouds parted like spilled silk across a painted sky — soft lavender melting into rose gold. Far below, the fleet of dragons cut low along the horizon, sleek shadows gliding silently over the glassy sea. But high above them — beyond the reach of the wind and war cries and worry — two figures rose through the last light.

Kaela rode Veilstorm without reins, her legs tucked close to the mare’s powerful sides, her hair pulled wild behind her by the rush of air. She wasn’t steering. Not tonight. Just holding on, moving with the rhythm of wings she knew like her own breath.

The storm-dragon’s wings spread wide, riding a warm current. Tiny glimmers of rune energy shimmered at the edges — flickers of something ancient and flickering, like embers chased from a dying fire.

Kaela leaned forward, chest pressed to Veilstorm’s neck, eyes half-closed. Her breath slowed to match the dragon’s, and when she spoke, it wasn’t to be heard by anyone else.

“I know, girl,” she murmured, voice nearly lost in the wind. “I know what you’re feeling. You don’t have to hide it from me.”

Veilstorm rumbled — low, almost imperceptible. Her tail shifted as the current changed, but her flight didn’t waver.

Kaela kept her voice gentle.

“You’re still blaming yourself. For the ambush. For the runes. For… me.”

She closed her eyes. Her hand trailed slowly up Veilstorm’s neck, fingers moving over the ridged, storm-hardened scales like she was brushing through memory itself. Even now, even after everything — the weight was still there. She’d felt it that night. When the pain faded and her magic had calmed, it was Veilstorm’s guilt that had nearly crushed her.

“But you saved me,” she whispered, voice steady now. “Again and again. You’re not my mistake, Veil. You’re my home.”

The moment stretched — suspended in wind and silence and light.

And then, beneath her palm, something pulsed.

A rune — deep violet-red — glowed under Veilstorm’s scales. It wasn’t a command. It wasn’t power.

It was connection.

Veilstorm let out a sharp, unburdened cry — a sound Kaela hadn’t heard in moons. She flared her wings and banked left, diving fast and low, the wind roaring across her face like she was remembering how to breathe again.

Kaela laughed — wind-torn and bright — clutching the dragon’s neck. “That’s it! You’re okay. We’re okay!”

Behind them, a ripple of energy shimmered across the sky — like starlight strung between dragon and rider. Below, the dragons felt it. A hum in the sky, soft and strange and real.

Toothless heard it first.

He craned his head, something sharp and curious stirring deep in his chest. His pupils narrowed. He turned mid-flight, catching the streak of Veilstorm’s silhouette — storm-scaled wings glowing with flickering runes as she carved through the sky.

He chirped — low, questioning.

And without hesitation, he took off.

“Toothless—? Whoa!” Hiccup scrambled in the saddle as the Night Fury banked hard, climbing higher. “Where are you going—?”

Below, the other Riders followed his gaze, their dragons slowing in midair.

“Is that—?” Fishlegs squinted.

“Veilstorm,” Astrid said, her voice somewhere between awe and disbelief.

“Wait,” Ruffnut muttered, blinking. “Is she glowing? Or am I dying?”

“Both,” Tuffnut deadpanned. “You’re always dying. You’re just finally noticing.”

Above the clouds, Toothless broke through the mist in a spiral of shadow and light — and found her there.

Veilstorm hovered in the quiet sky, wings outstretched. Her scales shimmered faintly, marked with glowing runes. Kaela sat upright, wind in her face, and turned just slightly — meeting Hiccup’s gaze from far across the current.

Toothless drifted closer, a curious chirp rumbling from his throat.

Veilstorm didn’t challenge. She exhaled — soft, almost reverent. An invitation.

Kaela smiled faintly, her voice barely audible in the wind. “He’s worried about you too, you know.”

Veilstorm tilted her head and lowered it — not in submission, but in understanding. She brushed her snout gently against Toothless’s shoulder. A solemn touch. Not Night Fury. Not Light Fury. Something else entirely.

And Toothless accepted it. Leaned in.

Then — just like that — they flew together. No race. No chase. Just side by side, cutting smooth arcs through the sky. Gliding like they’d always known how.

Below, Hiccup watched in stunned silence, the beginnings of a smile breaking across his face.

“They needed this,” he murmured.

Kaela laid her palm gently against Veilstorm’s neck again, the glow beneath her skin fading into warmth.

“We don’t have to be afraid of what we are,” she whispered. “Not anymore.”

And high above the clouds — two dragons flew in quiet harmony. The Alpha and the Rune-Bound, carving a new shape into the fading light.

The shape of something healing.

The shape of something whole.

Toothless perked up, craning his neck as Veilstorm surged ahead — sleek, sharp, deliberate. Her wings cut through the clouds like blades, the mist spiraling around her glowing edges. She dipped low, rolling beneath the flock in a clean arc, the wind sculpting along her form as if it had been made for her.

Toothless jolted. His pupils flared wide.

With a squeal that was part awe, part challenge, he launched forward in pursuit — the force nearly knocking Hiccup sideways in the saddle.

“Whoa—Toothless?!” Hiccup scrambled for balance, yanking the handle with a practiced tug.

Behind them, Kaela’s laugh floated through the clouds, wind-struck and delighted.

Veilstorm spun into a sideways dive, rolled once, then pulled into a steep climb that sliced through the dragons above her like a needle through thread. The flock rippled apart, startled by the blur of silver and stormlight as she banked hard left in a tight flare.

Toothless flapped harder, fighting his locked tailfin as it resisted the maneuver. He bucked clumsily to one side, growling in frustration.

Veilstorm glanced back with what could only be described as a smug, theatrical eye-roll.she huffed under her breath — and then, as if to prove it, she pulsed.

Magic shimmered along her spine. A burst of glowing runes erupted behind her like a comet tail, and she vanished into a blur of acceleration. The air cracked around her. The clouds spiraled open in her wake, shredded into ribbons of mist.

Kaela’s shout of joy, half scream, half laughter, echoed behind her — wind snatching the sound and scattering it over the sea.

Toothless squawked in panic, smacked sideways by the sudden gust. His wings pinwheeled mid-air.

Hiccup had just enough time to shout, “Wait—WAIT—!”

And then he was falling.

The saddle strap tore loose under the jolt. Hiccup pitched backward, arms flailing wildly as he tumbled end over end through the open sky, plummeting straight toward the glittering sea far below.

The world spun.

Dragons scattered to avoid him.

“Oh this is perfect,” Snotlout called, deadpan. “So great. Loving this for us.”

Toothless dove immediately, folding his wings tight to pick up speed. With a low, determined grunt, he caught Hiccup mid-fall, threading under him and swinging him back into the saddle with practiced grace.

The others cackled. Even Meatlug gave a slow blink of amusement.

Hiccup wiped soot from his cheek and gestured sharply.

“Not a word.”

That only made them laugh harder.

Back in formation, he straightened what remained of his dignity, brushing his hair back as though that would somehow undo the last ten seconds.

From above, Veilstorm reappeared — slow and graceful this time, wings wide and steady. She dipped beside Hiccup and Valka, coasting with regal ease. Kaela leaned low against her neck, laughter still caught in her voice as she grinned at him.

“I think Veilstorm’s trying to assert dominance,” she said cheerfully.

Hiccup glanced over, deadpan. “Yeah. Well. Message received.”

Veilstorm let out a satisfied huff through her nostrils. Her wings gleamed like satin in the sunset — unbothered, unrushed. Queenly. She didn’t so much fly as she commanded the sky to move around her.

Toothless, now trailing her, chirped softly. Smitten.

Kaela looked back over her shoulder again, the wind catching her hair, that same teasing glint in her eye. “She likes the view better from ahead.”

Hiccup exhaled through his nose, “This is going to be a long flight.” but he was smiling.

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