I don't even remember these

Two weeks. They were grieving for two weeks now.

Some days Credence felt as if Theseus left their flat a minute ago, going back to London to take care of some Ministry affairs, his laugh still lingering in the air, his see you for Christmas echoing in Credence’s ears like a false tone. Some days Theseus seemed distant like a half-forgotten dream, a fairytale. Credence tried to catch every memory, every thought; save it for later.

They weren’t talking much, he and Percival, and certainly not about Theseus. In some sort of unspoken agreement, the topic of their prematurely deceased friend became taboo.

Sitting on opposite ends of the couch, they tried to read - Credence his transmutation textbook, Percival his Aurors’ reports - but none could focus, not when their minds were occupied by that one question none of them had answers to.

Their why? remained silent.

Staring at the page without understanding a single word, Credence heard Percival move behind his back, coming closer, until he his head was laid on Credence’s bony arm, the familiar weight of it comforting.

“Tell me we’ll meet again.”

For a moment he didn’t understand. But Percival’s breath was shaky against his neck and his hand trembled reaching for Credence’s waist, locking him in a tight embrace.

“Of course we will,” he smiled - tried to - even though his lips twitched dangerously, threatening to turn down. “When we die, he’ll be waiting for us.”

“Tell me.” He barely heard the whisper before it got lost somewhere in the wool of his sweater. “Tell me more.”

“We’ll see it,” he said slowly, trying to control his voice, “new heaven and new earth. And he-” Credence stopped, the words stuck in his throat like a choking lump. “He shall wipe away every tear from our eyes; and death shall be no more.”

He knew Percival was shaking, probably crying, hiding his face, and his own cheeks were wet from tears, hot and heavy, unrestrained. In his chest, his heart was aching, looking for comfort, for some sort of understanding. An explanation.

But there was no explanation. Deep down Credence knew there was no logic in Theseus’ death.

Kissing Percival’s hair, he tried to believe. He couldn’t.


infodumping about the ocean


So approximately six thousand years ago I told @forksalesperson I would draw Ed for her and because I am me I’m only just now getting it to her. 


time to dance // panic! at the disco

Here to shake things up

[Ko-fi / Redbubble]

A concept: Yuuri affectionately calling Victor “Vitya” while being tickled and pinned to the bed. His cheeks are flushed, his hair is messy, and he can’t stop laughing no matter how hard he tries. Victor kisses his cheek as his fiancé’s hands playfully push on his own. He thinks of how far they’ve come since they’d met so many years ago, how glad he is that they’re comfortable with each other and that his overwhelming, unconditional love is requited.