llamabois
llamabois
llamabois
380 posts
a fangirl's safespace :3 | 23 | artist and writer | escapee of the 9-5
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
llamabois · 2 days ago
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Rafayel who really likes to be marked as yours.
Rafayel who leaves the house with a red kiss mark on his cheek every single day. What's more, if one gets close enough, (a privilege that only you have) it becomes clearer to the observer that even his lips are slightly stained a lipstick shade of red, and slightly the scent of cherries.
Rafayel who absolutely refuses to leave the house unless you give him his kiss goodbye. He simply can't help it, a non-negotiable. He'll pout, he'll sulk, he'll make it your problem if he makes the journey all the way to the front door without you following for his goodbye kiss.
He especially loves the days where you have makeup on, not because you look less beautiful without it, but because of how your lipstick lingers on everything your lips touch. The rim of his favorite mug, the head of your toothbrush that sits next to his, the backs of each of his finished paintings, his cheek, the collar of his white blouse. It's proof of your presence. It is the most intimate detail to him, the trace of your love.
Your hand was whacked away the first time you had tried to wipe your lipstick off his cheek. He had said something about not messing up the art. He has sported his now signature lipstick stain ever since. Never in the same place, and not always as prominent as other times.
He goes to each of his art exhibitions this way. And just as he intends for it, everyone notices. No one brings it up to him, but they notice, and they wonder. They wonder who is so lucky to send him off with a kiss each day, and have him show it off with so much pride.
Then one day you walk in and it all clicks. By the middle of the exhibition, the showroom has filled up and Rafayel had already begun talking to his patrons. The energy shifts with your presence, Rafayel's especially, with the way he immediately turns to you with lit up eyes. The crowd instantaneously knows that you're behind the kiss marks on Rafayel's cheek.
"There you are, Cutie," the audience becomes ignored as Rafayel gravitates to you like a lost puppy, spinning and kissing you as if it were second nature. He pulls away with another dark stain on his cheek. "Ah, ah, don't wipe it yet, let them see." Such a possessive lemurian.
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llamabois · 2 days ago
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Being a writer is so silly. You have one idea that gets you writing paragraphs and then you get stuck on a scene and never return.
The drafts call to me, and they weep in incomplete agony. 😭
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llamabois · 7 days ago
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Since I keep seeing people are confused where to place the new myth chronically, here’s what I think and some other thoughts:
(spoilers)
It’s definitely a more or less direct continuation of the GoT myth.
We finally get to know what exactly happened at the temple and why MC was nowhere to be found as Rafayel left it after the ceremony and hence he calls her his bride and why the bond was never truly completed.
After he watched over Lemuria MC returned home after hundreds and thousands of years and she bound him into the deep sea prison to protect him.
The myth starts another bunch of centuries after this. He was in kind of a slumber all the time.
Does it play before AW? I’m not sure, honestly. Because Amund there says that he is the first Sea God that didn’t kill his bride/follower. This (for me) hints that AW is after GoT but not after Tears of Romirro because well, he “kills” her at the end -he was forced by the bond.
For me, it makes more sense that AW and ToR are variants of what happened after GoT.
Variant one: MC didn’t return from searching for the wick, maybe died. The seas dried up, and MC was reborn. Rafayels powers fade and he needs to find her to get his powers back which leads to him altering the prophecy (AW)
Variant two: MC returned and imprisoned him to protect him so she could find another way (ToR)
Current timeline is also after the GoT timeline, but I’m not sure where to put it accordingly. I mostly would put it after AW, and equally not.
My theory is, that changing the prophecy and erasing the AW timeline led to creating the current one.
But that’s just a hunch for now.
Maybe I overlooked some details because I watched it for the first time now, so this theory may change in the future 🫣
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llamabois · 7 days ago
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Your story is still worth writing even if it veers off from what you planned originally.
It’s still worth writing even if you aren’t feeling it right now.
It’s still worth writing even if it’s fanfiction.
It’s still worth writing even if you don’t think anyone else would ever want to read it.
It’s still worth writing even if it doesn’t get published.
It’s still worth writing even if it doesn’t get adapted into a huge blockbuster movie.
It’s still worth writing even if you can’t have fancy illustrations at the beginning of chapters or a map of the world at the beginning.
It’s still worth writing even if someone you trusted told you to stop.
It’s still worth writing if you just rolled your eyes at me.
It’s still worth writing, SO WRITE IT.
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llamabois · 7 days ago
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Rafayel’s bitterness suddenly makes so much sense — and even though the myth isn’t released yet I feel like the trailer gave more than enough to allude to several things.
I suppose bitter might be a harsh term to describe things, but Rafayel harbors this level of brattiness. An over dramatic flare that leads many in this fandom to portray him as childish and/or flamboyant.
This idea that he’s dramatic and giving MC a hard time just because… that’s what “bitterness” I’m referring too.
Not only did MC sacrifice herself in order to make sure the sea god does not meet his fated doom — she used his own weapon and forced his hand to grasp it as she drove it into her chest and effectively severed their bond.
There is such a range of emotion on Rafayel’s face in that time span — disbelief, anger, heartbreak. That quick defiance as he lunges for her, cradling her as he proclaims he won’t let things end like this. And yet she’s dying fast, too fast for him to even attempt anything.
The horrified heartbreak that flashes in his eyes when he realizes there is nothing he can do as her eyes close for the last time and her body goes limp. The god of the sea was unable to save his beloved and defy his fate.
Clinging to her body as the tale writes itself exactly as promised, she becomes one with the sea and vanishes from his embrace. Now, his beloved is truly gone.
Rafayel sits there in shock, tears sliding down his cheeks and dropping into the water below him. Not only did it happen, but it happened so quickly that his mind is reeling to catch up. One minute you were alive, you were warm and breathing and real before his eyes.
Sixty seconds later you are gone, a mirage in the ocean water, as if you never existed in the first place. Then, after all that, you wait 800 years to return to him.
If I were Rafayel, I’d be pretty bitter too.
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I didn’t plan on pulling for this myth, especially since a multi banner is following… but the trailer has me so captivated that I can’t stop thinking about it. As a Sylus main I must stay strong because I can’t let my 100% streak die… but Raffie—
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llamabois · 7 days ago
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Sylus × minions 🐦‍⬛🤖
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llamabois · 7 days ago
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the exile
— (rafayel)
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'o desterrado' by antónio soares dos rei
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llamabois · 7 days ago
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Me rn
writing is so funny because i could write nonstop for 9hrs and then hit a block where im like "how do i transition between this moment and the next?" and then i just dont touch it for 6 months
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llamabois · 7 days ago
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Yessss!! The CN girlies made it!! We get our free pulls!!!
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llamabois · 8 days ago
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lads man i think would be the sweetest about all your plushies and pretend to have cute lil conversations with them: sylus.
lads man i think has personal beef with all your plushies and suplexes them out of jealousy when you are not around: rafayel.
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llamabois · 8 days ago
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IM COMING HOME IM COMING HOME TELL THE WORLD THAT IM COMING HOME I KNOW MY KINGDOM AWAITS AND THEYVE FORGIVEN MY MISTAKES IM COMING HOME IM COMING HOME TELL THE WORLD THAT IM COMING...
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HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOME
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llamabois · 9 days ago
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Imagine being Sylus' non-mc significant other. part 2
Imagine Sylus had always been good at slipping into roles. A lover, a liar, a partner, a predator. Not because it was his nature but because that is how he survived. How he navigated a world full of ghosts and guns where names changed with the wind and loyalties died in the dark.
so Imagine when the mission called for him to play the doting boyfriend to MC, he did it without hesitation. Business was business. And nothing more. But you, you were never part of the plan.
Imagine you were something he never expected to find in the wreckage of his life. The softness he did not think he deserved. The quiet safety in a world too loud. With you, he wasn't a weapon, he wasn't a monster. He was just Sylus. Your Sylus. And that terrified him.
Imagine the way he knew what it looked like. The missed calls, the half truths, the bruises he wore like secrets. He watched you swallow your suspicion with grace, letting trust carry the weight of all the things he could not say. And you, you never asked too much. You never demanded more than what he could give and that made him want to give you everything. But then the mission came.
Imagine, the fake relationship with MC was meant to be a temporary cover. A strategic alliance masked in flirtation and staged intimacy. And he hated every second of it. He hated how close he had to stand. He hated the way MC would linger when the cameras weren't rolling. And what he hated most is the way he saw your silence begin to turn into sorrow.
Imagine he noticed everything. The way you started to flinch at the word "work." The way your smile faltered when he came home smelling like someone else's perfume. He noticed and it broke him because he couldn't tell you. Not yet. Not when the stakes were this high.
Imagine he never touched her like he touched you. He never whispered her name like a prayer. Never let her see the parts of him that he bled out in your hands. The vulnerable pieces you pieced back together night after night. MC was the mission. You were the reason he came back.
Imagine the night you asked about her and the way your voice cracked. That sound, that single, fractured breath did more damage than any bullet ever had. He looked at you and saw everything he stood to lose. Not because you doubted him but because he knew you had every right to.
Imagine he let it happen. He let it happen because he thought he was protecting you by keeping the truth buried beneath duty. But secrets rot. Even the ones told with good intentions. And you were starting to wither away from him.
"It's not what you think." He said but you already heard the guilt even before he felt it. Not guilt for what he did. But the guilt for the pain his silence caused you.
Imagine the way your silence answered. You did not scream. You didn't even cry. You just looked at him. You looked at him like you'd been bracing for this all along. And that killed something inside him.
Imagine in that moment, he realized something that made him feel like a sword pierced through his chest. You thought he loved her. You thought you were being replaced. You thought you were disposable. He made you feel that way.
Imagine that night, He stayed the night because he couldn't stand the idea of you being alone with that lie. Yet you did not touch him. You didn’t speak. You just curled into yourself like a wound trying to heal without being treated. And he lay down beside you. Not as a lover, not as a man but as the ghost of everything he ruined. Listening to the way your heartbeat refused to sync with his.
Imagine as dawn bleed into the room like a slow confession. He when and left with your back was still to him.You were quiet. The kind of quiet that used to mean peace, now it meant distance. The kind of quiet that he already knew he had lost you and you were just too kind to say it.
Imagine you were the kind of wound that he wanted to keep. The one that proved him that he could still feel something. And he would give anything to unlearn how it felt to wake up beside you knowing he didn’t deserve it.
Imagine he would give everything to go back to the moment you said his name like it was still a prayer and not a question. Because Sylus never loved her. He only loves you. And now he destroyed the only truth he ever had.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°
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llamabois · 9 days ago
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「Where the Wind Left Us」 Caleb
       ↳ He died in the war- or so you thought. Years later, he returns with no memory of you, and you're forced to face the man who once loved you like forever... now looking at you like a stranger.
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Caleb had once been a fighter pilot, sharp, brave and deeply in love. Before the war, before duty stole him away, he was yours. Have a love rooted in hope, built during quiet moments in the chaos of wartime. But when the war escalated and he was called to serve, to protect the country and to protect you.
You had written to him. Countless letters. Words filled with devotion, with trembling wishes for his safety. For his return. With each letter, you tried to remind him that he was still loved, that you are still here, waiting for him. But the war ended, and he never came back.
You stood among crowds of reuniting lovers, heart clenched, eyes scanning every face that was not his. In your fist, a handkerchief crumpled tight with tears. They handed you a uniform. A final gesture. They said his plane had been shot down over enemy lines. No body. No wreckage. No closure. He had been declared missing in action and then, eventually, dead.
Years had passed. Then decade. Still, you remained alone. Something inside you had died the same day he did. If not in body, then in memory. You could not bring yourself to move on. His absence was a shadow you had lived beside. And then-
"Ouch!" A small voice snapped you out of the daze. You looked down to find a young boy who had fallen in front of you. Without thinking twice about it, you knelt beside him, concern pushing through the numbness. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" You asked. But when the your eyes met, something inside you cracked. A ghost of the past but this time, his eyes resemble somebody else. Someone long lost. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t look away. It was like seeing a ghost, not of the boy, but of someone you once knew better than yourself.
Later, you found yourself seated in a familiar little ice cream parlor. One that hadn't changed much over the years. Once, it had been the setting of the happiest date of your life. And now, across from you, sat the boy with his apple-flavored treat. "Are you sure you're okay?" You asked. "Yes! I'm a big boy now. Not even a scratch can make me cry!" He beamed. And that smile, that smile nearly identical to another's from so long ago. "Say, kid" You asked gently "Where are your parents?" "Oh!" He paused mid lick, then looked up like he'd just remembered. "Probably looking for me! We just got back here because this is my father's hometown!"
It was almost cruel, how easily your heart twisted. Once upon a time, there was a love story. A foreign soldier lost in a strange land, memory fractured by war. And a medical nurse who found him, pieced him together. They met. They bonded. They fell in love, not knowing that time and fate had other plans. And now, you are left with nothing but the ruin of a fairytale that was never meant to last.
"Oh, it's Dad." the child mumbled as he looked out the window. And there he was. Caleb. Alive. Whole. Smiling that same hesitant smile. Though now touched with worry as he spotted his son. So you look away and turn around. "I need to go" You whispered almost to yourself. In the end the child pout, the same way he once does causing you to chuckle despite the pain, despite the heartbreak. Despite the realization that the two of you were in fact, never meant to be together. But it was alright. 
"I'm afraid I'm quite running late for my errands young man." You smile fondly at him. "But-" He was cut off by the sound of his father calling him from the distance. "Well then, goodbye." You stand up, bidding your goodbye to the young child. "Wai- wait! What's your name?" You thought for a moment and look back slightly at the child. "No one, just a ghost from the past." You whispered along the wind. You never look back. And by the time Caleb reach the child's side, you were already long gone. 
It's been a while since you've clean up your lawn. Its been a while since you have done such a thing ever since the revelation that your former lover. The one you thought was dead for the past few years was in fact, alive and breathing. And has a son, a family. It took you a while to pick yourself up from pieces. For years, you mourned for him, loved him in silence. Lit up a candle for a man declared dead with no body to bury. But then, like a cruel twist of fate, he appeared. Alive. Well. And with a child.
You tried to tell yourself it didn’t matter. That too much time had passed. That you both moved on even though you never truly had. And that he was someone else's now. That he had a family, and your part in his story was long over. But it wasn’t grief you were feeling now, it was betrayal. Not because he had lived. Not because he ha didn't tell you. Because he had come back into your world as if you were a stranger, not the person who once waited for his letters like they were lifelines. Not the person who loved him enough to mourn him twice.
You clenched your jaw, yanking a weed from the dirt with more force than necessary. Why were you so broken over this? He hadn't done anything wrong. No one had. And yet, deep in your chest, a sharp ache remained. You would’ve preferred he stayed dead. It was easier than this.
"Hello!" You pause, something that you tried not to show too much as you turn to face a familiar child. "Hello sweetheart." You tried to smile, really. The child did nothing wrong. Hell, no one did anything wrong. At the same time it really hurts you to be around this child as time went on. "Are you lost sweetheart?" You ask, setting aside your things to talk to the child properly. You haven't seen the boy in days, and now that he was standing right in front of you, it was clear that what happened wasn't a dream. It was true, he was back and you don't know it that was for better or for worse. "Are you okay?" The boy asked catching you off guard. "Of.. course. I'm okay sweetheart. But! but more importantly, Why are you alone again? where are your parents?"
Starting to get pissed off. The Caleb you knew was responsible, a man with taste. You knew who ever we has with right now would be a perfect good match for. But come on! Who lives their child alone?! This isn't the first time this happened, this child also happened to be away from this parents the first time you've seen him. Why are people so irresponsible with their children? Doesn't he love children? He never told you that of course, but you knew he always wanted one and you knew he would be a good dad. So where in the world is he right now-
"My paren-" "Pipsqueak! you little-!!" He pause, you watch him. You watch him watch you, your eyes slowly meeting half way. You did not want to see him. You were doing everything in your power not to see him.
These days, you moved differently. You rarely left your house and even if you did you took side streets, crossed early at lights, pretended not to notice the ache in your chest when someone said his name like it wasn’t a ghost curled inside it. He was back in town, for good, you knew that. But you aren't expecting to see him again, not now. Probably not ever. 
The way he was looking at you. The way it send shiver down your spine. He doesn’t know, you reminded yourself. He doesn’t remember you. He’s not looking at you because he knows you. You told yourself, trying your best to stay calm as he kept looking at you. Why was he even looking at you? He came to pick his son right? Right!
"You" You spoke, sharper than you meant, "Really need to learn how to watch your kid." You did not know where did you get that, words just came out of your mouth before you knew it. Caleb blinked like he wasn’t expecting you to speak first. Or maybe he just wasn’t expecting you. But then he stared at you again, this time, really stared.
The way you tried not to notice how his gaze lingered. The way it clung to your face like it recognized something but couldn’t quite name it. How it made your heart squeeze and your chest ache with things you’d buried long ago. You hate how he still looked at you like that. Like you were something soft in a world gone harsh.
"I- yeah" He replied, finally. "I didn’t know he snuck out again. He’s been doing that a lot lately." "Well, maybe he’s trying to get attention" You snapped, folding your arms. Where did that sassiness came from? "You know, since you're busy with your wife... or whatever." You tried to sound nonchalant, you really do.
But you saw it the moment the words left your mouth, the way something flickered in his expression. Confusion. A little hurt. "My what?" "Your wife.” You repeated, biting down the bitterness. "Look Mister, you've got a family. I get it. But maybe someone should be making sure your son doesn't keep ending up on strangers' lawns."
The way he looked at you like you just accused him of murder. The he said carefully "I don’t have a wife." You thought your ears were playing tricks at you. "I'm not married” He added, frowning. "It’s just me and this little guy over here." You opened your mouth then closed it before opening it again. "I saw you, at the ice cream parlor. You look like family." "We're not" He said simply, eyes softening. "Not like that." You look away. This isn't how you wanted this to go. You weren't even supposed to be talking to him.
Just when you felt like running away. The boy tugged at your sleeve. "Can we still go to the park?" The park? when did the two of you started talking about a park? You glanced down at the boy, then back at Caleb who was still staring at you. Like you were something fragile and familiar. Someone strange all at once. You cleared your throat. "Look, I don’t know what this is. But this little guy right here shouldn’t be wandering off." You smile gently at the boy, gently prying off his hand of your shirt "Next time it might not be someone nice who finds him."
Imagine just when you were about to turn around and walk away for real. "You’re right" Caleb said, voice steady. "You're completely right." What is this guy playing? "So maybe you should help me keep an eye on him. Just for today. Park trip?" 
You hesitated. This man, this stranger who still managed to look at you like you were everything, was asking you to walk beside him again. Even if he didn’t remember. Even if it shattered you. Just then, his son grabbed both your hands and squeezed. "Please? I can hold on both of you this time!" You sighed, you could almost feel a headache forming. "I swear" Caleb spoke quietly. "I’m not trying to make this harder for you." He added. "I just... something about you feels like I’ve known you forever." You didn't answer.
Instead you turn to his son who was looking at you with hopeful eyes. Oh those puppy eyes, who could ever say no to them? "Give me a minute darling, I'll clean this up in a bit." "Oh. Oh! I could help!" You laugh, ignoring the way his stare linger. With your heart pounding, trying not to fall apart as the man who once promised to come back to you followed behind. With no idea he already had.
It began in fragments. A shared walk beneath rusted leaves. A passing smile from across the yard. A quiet lunch in the sun, where the child spoke the most and the two adults sat guarded, orbiting each other in silence.
For you, it was cautious. Your heart, once cracked open by his absence, had been stitched closed over years of grief. And now that he stood right before your eyes, not a memory, but a living echo. With his laugh the same, his presence still magnetic. But his eyes were new. Unknowing. Which honestly made it worse. You didn’t know how to touch a ghost who didn’t remember haunting you.
He was gentler now. Or perhaps he always had been, had you simply forgotten how it felt. He watched you like you were something steady, something quiet. Like he was trying to place you in a dream he couldn’t quite recall. And you tried not to look too long. Not to stare when he leaned back on his hands, when he ran a palm through his hair the way he used to when deep in thought. You tried not to remember how his touch had once been a promise. Now, it was unfamiliar. Unwritten. A beginning that mocked the ending you had survived.
For Caleb, it was instinct.
The pull towards you was natural, like a rhythm he already knew. He could not understand why but it lingered in his chest every time you were near. Like a compass buried deep inside him had found true north. There was something in the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t watching. Like you were mourning while he breathed. Like he had hurt you without meaning to. Like he had once been your world, and now you didn’t even know how to stand close without burning.
You were kind, but careful. Present, but slightly too still. He noticed the way you never leaned in too far. The way your hands stayed folded, as though holding yourself together. And yet, somehow, you two kept finding each other. A cup of tea offered without words. A shared glance when the little guy laughed too loudly. The comfortable silence of two people who knew how to sit with something unspoken.
For you, it was terrifying. To feel the old ache inching back slow, quiet and cruel. To fall for him again, when he had no idea you were simply picking up where he had left you broken.
For him, it felt inevitable. Like he was falling toward something he couldn’t name. Something familiar. Something that felt like home. Even if he didn’t know why.
Caleb hadn't meant to visit.
He was just dropping off for his son's hat. Left behind again after your impromptu park trip. But when you opened the door and offered a gentle, "Come in for a minute." He stepped inside, telling himself it was polite. Just polite. And then he saw it.
First, the jacket. Hanging by the coat rack. Old, military-issued, a bit scuffed. Familiar. Too familiar. Then the model planes. Dusty but lovingly displayed on a shelf, and one of them, one specific fighter jet had a scratch on the left wing. And then the mug. Sitting quietly by the window, like a ghost of a morning ritual. Chipped. Faded. Still readable, Return With Honor. He stared at it like it had slapped him.
His chest tightened. His brain did math. You said you lived alone. That you never married. Yet this place didn’t feel like yours alone. It was layered with someone else's presence. And Caleb, who, despite his calm exterior, had an ego thoroughly capable of jealousy, was not immune.
"Nice place." He said, eyes still glued to the jacket. Boyfriend? No. You said you aren't seeing anyone. But maybe someone from the past? Someone important, judging by the shrine level energy in the room. "Thanks." You replied, walking toward the kitchen. "It's quiet. Suits me." "Yeah. You into aviation or something?" By his question, you paused. "A little." He nodded like that explained everything, but the knot in his chest was winding tighter.
"Those models." He said, referring to the planes. "They're vintage... Collectibles?" "They were someone else's." He felt an ache. "Someone close?" He asked and your silence was enough. Caleb cleared his throat. "Boyfriend?" "What's it to you?" You almost glare at him but ended with a sigh. "Nothing." He said too quickly. "Just curious. Not judging or anything. Totally healthy to you know... keep stuff from a boyfriend." He almost cringe at his own words. Nonetheless he tried to play it cool. "Even years later. It's fine."
"Wasn't a boyfriend." "Oh." He looked relieved then paused. "Husband?" You didn't respond. His jaw clenched. "Okay. Cool. So just- was it serious?" It was entertaining, really. To see him acting like this. Still, "Very." He exhaled slowly, pretending it didn't bother him. Pretending the idea of some air force Romeo haunting your house via jacket and coffee mug didn't sit like a boulder in his gut. "Is he… still around?" He asked.
You turned slightly, enough for him to see the flicker of something in your eyes. Not anger. Not sadness. Something older. But then you blink and it disappears. "No." You said simply, too nonchalant. "He died. Years ago. During the war." Caleb blinked. "Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to-"  "It's alright."
Caleb, in all his complicated grief and confused feelings, nodded gently and then exhaled the kind of breath no normal person should ever exhale after hearing about someone's dead lover.
Relief. An actual, horrible, shameful relief. "So... you never moved on?" Why does he even asked this questions? "I tried." You said, sighing. Looking back, you never truly get over him. Even before this, you carry him with you. "Didn’t stick."
He looked away, heart weirdly heavy. And relieved. Which was so wrong. He barely even knew you. "I'm not saying I was jealous." He muttered under his breath. Clearly wasn't very jealous. "But I just think it's a little unfair that a dead guy still has better closet space than me." You pause, looked at him and then choked on a laugh. "Excuse me?"
"Nothing. I mean. I didn’t say that." He tried to recover but found himself already walking toward the jacket. "That tear in the shoulder? Looks like something from field duty. Enemy fire?" There was a moment of silence before your voice was heard. "Crash." Ah. Damn. He looked back at you. "Did they recover him?" You shook your head, mind replaying the day you received his uniform. "No. The plane was downed over enemy territory. No body. Just..." 
Caleb swallowed, then turned back to the jacket. His fingers brushed the edge of the inner collar. And there, faint but stitched in, was a name. Caleb. His own name.
He blinked. Huh. "That's weird." He whispered to himself. "What is?" "Nothing." He let go quickly, stepping back like the jacket burned him. "Just thought it looked familiar." "You probably knew someone like him." You said, looking at the jacket. "You were a pilot too, weren't you?" He nodded slowly.
The silence that followed was thick with something he couldn’t name. Finally, you turned to him, brows raising. "You okay?" "Yeah. I'm fine. Just..." He looked back at the shelf of planes. "Trying to figure out if I'm feeling haunted or just wildly insecure." You gave him a long look. "Don't worry. You're not the first man to get jealous of a ghost."
It didn’t hit all at once.
Just a flicker. Later that evening, after he returned home and set down his keys. Caleb sat in silence for a long while. Hands resting on his knees, his mind somewhere far behind him. His son asleep upstairs. The house was quiet. But his heart wasn’t.
He couldn't stop thinking about the jacket. The way it had felt under his fingers. The fraying of the collar. The weight of it. Familiar, like a favorite song he hadn't heard in years. And then… the name.
Caleb
His name. Same spelling. Same placement he would have asked for, had it ever been his. And that particular kind of patch stitching, he knew it. Not in theory, not from others but he remembered doing it. Sewing that rip in the field. Threading it clumsily, cursing the cold, using his teeth to pull the knot tight.
The memory was sharp. Real. Immediate. He jolted. For a split second, the sound of wind filled his ears. Rotors. Heat. A hands pressing against his chest. A medic’s voice shouting. The taste of blood. The voice- the voice. Laughing. Crying. Then it was gone. He stared at the floor, breath unsteady, as something ancient and half buried inside him cracked open. He didn’t know the name. Not yet. 
But suddenly, he knew the jacket. He had loved someone once. And he had left them behind.
It had been a while since Caleb last visited. Life had a way of stepping in, work, obligations and the silent ache between two people who used to know each other like breath and now barely touched the surface. He hadn't come by in days, and though you told yourself it was a relief, the echo of absence sat heavily in the corners of the house.
Still, his little boy came. He had a way of showing up with grass in his hair and stories far too big for his age. That afternoon, he sat cross-legged in your living room, babbling about paper airplanes and how he could totally build one that flew to the moon if he wanted. And you listened, smiling through the heaviness.
Then, in the soft lull of conversation, you asked a question that had lingered for too long. "Your dad... what's he like?" When you asked that, the boy shrugged like it wasn't complicated. "He’s kind. And quiet sometimes." He giggle. "He forgets things. But he always remembers the important stuff."
You hesitated before asking, you don't want to get hurt. "Was it always just the two of you?" The boy tilted his head. "No. My real parents died. In the war. Dad, Caleb, was their friend. He says he owes them everything."
The world tilted just slightly beneath you. He wasn’t his son. Not by blood. Caleb had taken the boy in. Raised him. Loved him. Not because he had to. But because it was the right thing to do.
You watch the little boy rummaged through his small backpack and pulled out something you hadn’t seen in years, a small box, worn at the edges. "He gave me this." He said, opening it like it was no big deal. Inside sat a ring. Their ring. The one pair Caleb had with him the night before he left for the war. The one you thought had been lost with him forever. You breath caught.
"He said it was for someone important." He added gently. "That he didn't remember who, not really. But he knew it was meant for someone. That he'd given it to them before everything." The air went silent with something unspoken. "He said that's why we came back here." The child said simply. "Because father- my first dad, told him he had left something important in this town. Someone.”
The ring sat there between them, heavy with memory.
You did not reach for it. Not yet. Because hope was a dangerous thing. And love, especially a love that once had died, was terrifying when it tried to live again. You turned your head, blinking quickly, steadying yourself. You could feel it, fate pulling at the thread. Winding them back toward something unfinished. Caleb didn’t remember you. But somehow, his heart still did.
And yours? Still afraid. But still beating for the same man.
It came to him like a storm. No warning. No slow unraveling. Just a breath, then the world tilted. 
He was standing by your the porch, hand raised to knock on your door when his eyes flicked to the side window. There, through the curtain, he saw you. Front facing him and staring at the ring.
That ring.
The one he had carried through fire and blood and years of unknowing. The one he couldn't part with even when his memories scattered like ash in the wind. The ring he had told himself it was a symbol of something lost, of someone important.
And in that moment, it wasn't just important. It was you.
He staggered back a step, unsteady.
The noise of bombs, of roaring engines, your voice flooded in. Your hands on his uniform, trembling the day before he left. The taste of your kiss. The promise he made with that ring pressed between your and his palms. The letters. The laughter. The ache of missing you so badly that it bled into his bones.
The crash. The fire. Your name screaming on his throat. Your face, framed in smoke, reaching for him as everything fell apart. He remembered it all.
The weight of your head on his chest after long shifts at the field. The curve of your smile when you handed him that ridiculous mug. The way you looked up at him like he was something worth returning for.
He remembered loving you. And the unbearable grief in your eyes every time you met now soft and guarded. Like you were terrified to reach for what had already died once.
His breath came out broken. You didn’t know he remembered. Not yet. But standing there, staring at the one who had waited for a ghost, who still wore that love like an old scar, Caleb realized something. He did not just fallen in love with you again. He never stopped. And now, he finally remembered why.
You noticed it first in his silence.
Not the awkward kind, it was the silence of someone searching for words. The kind that felt like knowing. Like he was seeing you for the first time. Or maybe remembering how he used to.
The way he looked at you had changed. Less like curiosity. More like memory.
He didn't say anything when you offered him tea in the same chipped mug, the one with the faded letters he'd once picked out himself. He just smiled. A Small, soft and took it with both hands, like it meant something. And it did.
You could feel it shifting from within, the weight of unspoken things settling into the space like dust. You did not ask if he remembered. You didn’t dare. Because what if he didn’t? Or worse, what if he did and chose to forget again? You were terrified of loving him twice only to lose him all over again.
He sat across from you, watching you with the same steady calm that used to unravel you within seconds. Like you were a place he had once called home. And now, was again. And still, you held back. Because time had turned your love into something cautious. Because you had built your life around the absence of him, and now, with his presence sitting in your kitchen again, it felt like you were grieving in reverse.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out the ring box, not dramatic, not rehearsed, just... instinct. He held it between them without opening it. And you stared. Your heart cracked. "Why are you carrying that?" You asked, voice barely above whisper. He did not answer at first. Instead, he looked at you like someone who had finally, finally found what he had spent years trying to remember. Then he quietly said. "Because I remember who it belonged to now."
You breath hitched. You did not cry. You wanted to but there were no tears left. Just silence, fear, and the tender ache of almost believing him. "You don't have to say anything." You finally spoke. "You don't owe me that." You added.  "I do." He replied. Quiet and steady. "I left you once." There was a pause. "Not because I wanted to, but because the world forced me to." He looked at you. "I won't leave you again."
And you looked away, blinking rapidly. "But what if you forget again?" Fear. "What if I lose you twice?" You don't know if you would be able to handle that again. He exhaled. A breath full of pain and love and all the words he never got to say the first time. "Then I'll come back again." He said, eyes looking for yours. "And again. And again. Because it’s you. It’s always been you. Even without my memories, I found you." You finally looked at him. And in his eyes, you saw him.
Your Caleb.
Not just the man he used to be. Not just the man war tried to erase but the one who had always, in every version of himself, loved you. And in that moment, you don't need the ring. You don't need the memories. You don't need the promises made in uniforms or letters. You just needed this The quiet truth between them. The forgiveness in your heart. And the love that had never really left.
You did not kiss. Not yet. There was no sweeping declaration. No grand reuniting. Just the ring resting between you two. Two hands meeting across the table. And a slow, steady heartbeat that finally, finally felt like home.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°
Letter Never Sent
My dearest love,
If this letter reaches you, then I’ve made it back, whole, in one piece, and still yours. And if I haven’t… then let this be something that stayed behind, even when I couldn’t.
There’s something I wanted to ask before I left, but the moment kept slipping away. I was too busy memorizing your smile.
So here it is, written plainly and tucked into these folds of paper like a promise:
Will you marry me?
I don’t ask for forever. Just ust for the chance to return to you. I’ll chase every sky, every mile, every storm, if it means finding my way back.
No matter where the wind takes me… I know where it will leave me.
With you.
Always,
Caleb 
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llamabois · 9 days ago
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All the otome haters looking kinda pathetic when I laugh at them with my five billion boyfriends who all love me
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llamabois · 9 days ago
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face card so hard and body so tea even the british want it
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llamabois · 9 days ago
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fascinating that when you tell people "you have to learn the rules to break them" when talking about drawing/painting etc everyone nods and agrees but the second you say "you have to read books if you want to write better" there's a horde of contrarians begging to be the wrongest people ever all of a sudden
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llamabois · 9 days ago
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https://x.com/xavibaobei/status/1934442087631700210?t=QROnOmk3Qt9NOdE3zjMj4w&s=19
*fills your inbox with angsty stuff*
Free from remote work, and the agony continues 😂
Let’s take a look!
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Oh gawd... I remember this 😭😭
One of the reasons why I firmly believe that this whole prophecy was always misinterpreted!!!!
Oh, I’m so sick when I think of what awaits us 😭😭
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