My happy post-Mass Effect 3 destroy ending headcanon where Shepard survives and everyone reunites eventually and visit London as it’s being rebuilt! I’m so sad that the team probably splits for good after all this is over, since each person had their own goals and obligations and destroyed worlds to fix, so I’d like to think they have some time to get together, as well as visit london as a tribute to Anderson! mech/scifi is definitely not my strength but I enjoyed watching my gf replay game a lot, so I wanted to give it a shot ;_;
High resolution jpgs
Step by step work in progress screenshots!
big, layered PSD file
full videos of the drawing process from start to finish!
“Make me understand,” Harry begs, rubbing his hands over his face with a weary sigh. “Just talk to me please. You owe me that much.”
But Draco just just shakes his head, ignoring the tears streaming down his face as he pulls the blanket around himself tighter as if it might somehow protect him.
He knows he could say almost anything right now, that Harry would accept any one of his excuses or lies. But he can’t lie to him, not now, not anymore.
He wishes things were easier between them, but he figures their relationship has always been complicated. It was foolish of him to ever hope it could be different, could be simple.
In the beginning, working with Harry had seemed like a punishment, but he’d learned quickly enough that most of the things he thought he knew about the other man were wrong. His grudging acceptance of his own feelings had only led to disaster as he’d realized, quite quickly, that he was in love with his partner.
In some ways it was easy enough to ignore in the beginning, back when he’d still believed it was all one sided. Everything was easier to ignore when there was no hope.
But then Harry had to go and do stupid things like smile at him more, or brush their fingers together under the table in meetings, or casually stop by his place with takeaway as if he belonged there.
And then Draco suddenly wanted so much more than he had ever let himself believe he could have, believed he could deserve.
His life after the war had been difficult, and he’d expected working with Harry to make it worse. He had not expected the healing it would bring, the friendship it might offer, or the seed of hope it might plant in his heart.
Draco is many things but being oblivious is not one of them, and he knows exactly how the world still sees him. He knows he will never be good enough for them, good enough for Harry.
Harry who deserves so much more than Draco knows he can ever give him.
“I’m sorry,” Draco whispers, walking towards the door, his head held low.
But Draco doesn’t turn around, can’t turn around. Because he knows he will only have the strength to walk away this once.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, before the door clangs shut loudly, echoing in his ears as loudly as his breaking heart.
( “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” - USUK Spy AU - I got very carried away with this one and I apologise X’D)
It wasn’t meant to go so far. It was just supposed to be like this. It was never meant to happen. It was just a simple job. Just like all the others. It was never meant to be any different, why was this so different?
“Oh, so you’re the transfer from the UK I’m workin’ with now? I can dig that!” A strong voice, cheerful and childish. He was too young to be in their profession. But he was there all the same, cracking jokes and conversing with others like he worked in an office rather than killing people for a living. Arthur had seen him training, however. He had seen him practicing, running the test courses, staying late at the shooting range
It didn’t seem hard at the beginning.
“You might wanna pluck off those caterpillars on your face though, right? I mean, that’s a pretty memorable feature. That’s not good when you’re trying to not get noticed!!”
Oh yes, Arthur was more than willing to kill his target in the beginning.
“Why the ever-loving hell have you sent me to this God forsaken country?” Arthur had hissed down the phone to his superior the first night after he’d met his target. “I have more important things to do than make up for the shoddy work of the imbeciles you’ve previously been sending!” He gripped his private, untraceable phone tight in his hand, as if he’d crush it from anger any second. “The target’s basically a child!” “That child is the reason our organisation has been losing agents left, right, and centre.” His superior’s voice growled over the receiver. “If you underestimate Alfred Jones, then you’ll be the next to join them.”
Arthur held back his retort for that remark. They lived a dangerous and precarious lifestyle. Letting one’s guard down at any moment during a mission, especially an espionage and assassination, meant death, no matter how harmless the target seemed.