(I’m really bad at self-promo, if you couldn’t tell.)
If I could gather all the tears I spilled for you, they would cluster like dewdrops and form an ocean.
“Kit!”
As soon as his name left Ty’s lips–it seemed as if Ty’s lips were made to speak his name–Kit turned. His golden hair was damp, weighed down by the moisture that accumulated between its fine strands. Yet still it gleamed like the sun, bright against the dark background of the night. His eyes were half-hidden by the heavy locks that fell in front of them, their blue light as piercing as a sharpened sapphire.
If only your eyes could carry my ocean; but they are too alive to carry the burden of something so hopeless.
“Ty?”
Somehow, Ty was in Kit’s arms. His hands clutched at Ty’s shirt, and Ty buried his own into the soft fabric on Kit’s back. He could feel the warmth of his skin, the solid shape of his shoulders, the slight tremble of his body. He clung on to Kit, the way he’d never thought to before. He should have held him at every chance he got, held him closer than he’d ever held anyone.
If I’d known we couldn’t have infinity, I would have kept you with me and never let you leave.
They were on the ground: Ty had knocked Kit over in his haste. But who wouldn’t be hasty when the thing they had wanted and had and needed and lost was right back in front of them, found again? Who wouldn’t rush to snatch it up and make sure it was real, to claim it for their own?
Ty had been so quick to run to Kit that he hadn’t noticed the flush on his cheekbones, the tangles in his hair, the ash and charcoal smudged on his bare skin. Ty wanted to say something, to do something, to tell Kit all the thoughts he’d had, all the times he lay thinking about him. The regrets and the realizations that had hit him like a crushing gravity since Kit had gone lay on the tip of his tongue. Ty longed to let them spill out, but for the first time, he was afraid that he would say the wrong thing to Kit.
If you would hold me as tightly as I hold on to you, you would understand everything without me saying it.
“What’s wrong?”
Kit drew back from Ty as he spoke, and reached his hand up to Ty’s head. He threaded his fingers into Ty’s hair. Warmth spread through Ty. He closed his eyes and relaxed into Kit’s hand, snuggling closer as Kit’s fingers wove the dark strands away from Ty’s forehead. The corners of Ty’s mouth lifted into a soft smile. Affection beat through his body like blood through his veins. He could only think of how gentle Kit’s hand was, how comforting his presence was, how he wanted to stay like this for as long as he could. What would happen if he curled up right here, with Kit beside him, and they stayed there, and he didn’t have to worry about anything, and he would be happy with Kit and Kit with him? He opened his eyes a crack and gazed fondly up at Kit.
If I could make you understand how you make me feel, if you could see the stars in your own eyes as I stare into them, when would you get bored and leave?
“It’s nothing.”
Kit drew his hand back suddenly. The absence of it was enough to snap Ty out of his stupor and open his eyes fully. Kit was crouching on the wet cement, his head bent over and his face stuffed into his arms. Was he okay? Was he injured, or cold? What did he need? The bit of Kit’s face that Ty could see was pale, and his eyes, peeking out from under his arm, seemed distant and as sharp as the tip of a needle. Ty wanted to comfort him, to reach a hand out and make the tension in his muscles ease with a touch. The look in Kit’s eyes stopped him when his hand was halfway there. Confusion stirred in Ty’s stomach.
“Kit?”
If happiness was not so easy to lose and not so difficult to gain, we would have it all and I would never worry about you.
“Hey, Kit.”
Ty let his arm drape over his knees and hugged them to his chest. He grinned dopily and pressed his face to the crack between his knees. A giddy feeling ran through him, like when he watched small puppies chase each other around with a carefree joy. The only time Ty felt like that was around Kit. With a small sound, Kit lifted his head and looked up. His whole face was red, and Ty could feel his cheeks burning, too, as he drank in the sight of Kit. Energy seemed to be rolling off of him in waves, making the blue of his eyes jump out, the movement of his throat as he swallowed, the breath escaping his nose. Ty’s smile and that giddy feeling turned into something deeper, an emotion so intense, compelling him, and he couldn’t stop himself when he reached out again.
If I could control myself around you, how much pain would we have evaded, how many blades could have been turned away from us?
“Christopher.”
It was barely a whisper, a rush of air, as light as Ty’s hand on Kit’s face, cradling his cheek, his chin, pressing against his chapped lips. Kit’s eyes were fixed on Ty’s face, round and blue, magnified by unspilled tears. His brow was drawn in, his features forming an almost worried expression. But why would he be worried? There was nothing wrong, nothing to fear. Just him and Ty.
If we could run away, how soon would it be before I drove you back?
“I’m so happy to have you.”
Ty leaned closer to Kit until their foreheads brushed together. A sense of surety and calm settled over Ty. This was right, this was how things were supposed to be, this was how things would always be. Kit’s face in Ty’s hand, his palm on Ty’s sleeve, his lips so close that Ty could feel where the air was stirred between them. Ty’s heart was beating so fast in his chest that he knew Kit could feel it.
If you have this effect on me now, how will it feel when you split me apart like a fallen branch?
“Really?”
The word barely registered in Ty’s mind. He was too focused on Kit, on everything about him. He shifted his head infinitesimally closer, closer, closer, until there was barely a centimeter between their faces.
If I can finally know you like this, maybe I will be able to think straight.
And then suddenly Ty was being thrown back against a wall, and Kit’s hands were on his shoulders. The force with which Ty’s head hit the brick reverberated through his body. Kit’s fists, far from gentle, as they had been before, were digging into Ty’s shoulders, his arms, as stiff and straight as arrows, pinning Ty against the wall. Kit’s back was curved, as if his body was bending over itself to get as far away from Ty as possible. There was a ferocity in him that Ty had never seen before, never imagined would be directed at him.
“Then tell me why, Ty?”
If you love me, if we can get through it together, why did you leave me?
“Why didn’t you listen to me?”
If I could know every word you’d ever said, I would memorize it all.
“How could you do this?”
If you leave, how could we get through it together?
“To Livvy…”
If my sister could see this happen, what would she say?
“To me…”
If you’d refused at the start, where would we be?
“It’s your fault.”
If it’s my fault, why do I not feel guilty?
“Ty… My Sherlock…”
If I’m yours, why can’t you be mine?
“I loved you so much…”
If you could fill me up with all your love, how much empty space would there be?
“But now I-I…”
As Kit spoke–words that filled Ty’s eyes with tears and chest with lead and head with throbbing thoughts that swirled and sank like oil in water–he’d loosened his grip on Ty’s shoulders and moved his hands to Ty’s jaw. They lay there, deceptively tender as he brushed his fingers over Ty’s face. Ty was numb everywhere; he could barely feel the pressure of Kit’s hands, or the hard brick behind him, or the cold of the chains that hung around his neck. Yet it was like the rest of the world was magnified, stretching out towards him, strangling his breath and tugging on his limbs and stretching out his skin.
And Kit’s hands were still there, even though Ty couldn’t feel them. In the back of his mind, the thought occurred to Ty that he could move away. That tantalizing ghost of a sensation on his face would be gone, and he wouldn’t have to hear the rest of Kit’s sentence. But another part of Ty that couldn’t understand what was happening wanted to move forwards. Wanted to react to Kit’s hands, to sink into his touch as he had just moments earlier, let himself be comforted.
If you blame me so much, why are yours the hands that bring me ease, yours the voice that mitigates the sting of reality?
Silence was the only thing Ty was truly aware of. The absence of Kit’s voice, the sound of it as it had faded away. But now I… What? Now he what?
Ty swallowed–with as much difficulty as it would take to swallow a blade–and forced out, in a scratchy voice barely above a whisper, “Kit?”
It was like the second the words slipped past Ty’s lips, a flip was switched in Kit. He flinched and yanked his hands back, anguish filling his face, tears welling from his eyes, falling–falling and landing perfectly on the ground like dewdrops. A sob choked its way up his throat, then words, words that had echoed in Ty’s head and seemed to drain his energy and bleed the colour from his surroundings–
“I wish I’d never known you!”
If I knew how you would burn more than the wounds of consciousness, would I have welcomed the strain?
“Kit!!!”
He was gone. Cold air replaced the heat that had radiated from Kit’s body. Stiff blankets twisted around Ty where the soft cloth of Kit’s shirt had been. Ty’s hand clutched the pillow beneath his head rather than the spun gold that was Kit’s hair, moist from the dew in the air. The only constants were the tears that blurred his vision and the loops of metal around his neck. Despair filled Ty–at what, he didn’t know. At what Kit had said in his dream? At what he had said in the past? At the image of Kit, in front of him? At losing him again? At having him again?
If I could have you back, would I take you without hesitation or would the fear of my nightmares hold me away?
A forced breath flew past Ty’s lips as he felt his eyes tingle with another round of tears. He clenched his teeth, gripped his arms tightly, bit his lip, to keep any sound from following the sporadic inhales and exhales that shuddered through him. He squeezed his eyes shut and water seeped past his eyelids, catching on his eyelashes and tracing a path down the side of his head. His hand, covered in blood like the sheets tangled around him, flew to his mouth and smothered the sob that rose up against his will.
Kit.
Tears like rain.
I’m so sorry.
Like a river.
Please forgive me.
Like a current.
I miss you, Watson.
Like an ocean.
I love you.
Like dewdrops.
OH MY GOSH!!!!…. I-I’m… I’m speechless!!!! This was so beautiful… oh shit… I’m literally crying over here and I FUCKING DREW THE COMIC!!!! This is an absolute masterpiece! Oh my lord!!! I’m fangirling so much right now!!!! Holy moly!!!
Thank you friends from @alldagayships for forcing her/him/them to create this!!!!!
SO WHOEVER READ MY COMIC ( or will read it… GO OVER TO HER FIC AND GIVE IT ALL THE LOVE YOU HAVE BECAUSE IT’S AMAZING! ITS PERFECT! AND BOTH TOGETHER ARE EMOTIONAL OVERKILL!!!!!
The list is too long, I believe in allLevihan/Veterans fan-artists supremacy. You guys are the real legends. Thank you for everything you do for this fan community and pouring so much time, effort and love in each one of your drawings. It is an absolute delight to see your versions of the characters that we all enjoy doing different things in different universes, and yet being the same, goofy, adorable dorks we first fell in love with. Thank you for opening our eyes to new possibilities, showing new scenarios, and melting our hearts time and time again.
Thank you for all that you’ve done and all that you are doing. We are extremely lucky and honoured to have you guys here.
If I’ve missed your favourite fan-artist, do let me know in the replies! Let’s show them all some love for carrying the fandom on their backs.
This is really sweet I’m glad people enjoyed my doodles as much as I did making them. Thank you for the kind words!
Random shoutout to @sylvies-casey for always reblogging the most helpful gif making tutorials. If anyone reading this needs tutorials, go look through her resources tag.
Well with Overwatch out for quite some time, people often wonder why would Reaper throw his guns away.
It seems that the explanation isn’t that much of a stretch or just badassery - it’s more practical than you think.
Reaper’s shotguns seem to be some type of double-action, break-action weapon, as there is no visible hole where he could insert shells into, so the things probably open for a reload. Either that, or they use some sort of black powder system.
Okay. Now, if you ever saw old west or pirate movies, you’d notice that cowboys (and pirates as well) would do two things:
Dual wield
Often ditch their guns in a pinch
This is due to the fact that black powder guns (both flintlock pistols and black powder revolvers) and break-action guns take an extremely painful time to reload. To fully load one black powder revolver, you’d need on the upwards of 37 seconds or even more considering human factors. Flintlocks took around 20 seconds and they had only ONE round! And if you ever tried to reload a break-action shotgun, doing the fancy two-shells at a time trick you see in games simply doesn’t work unless you have a lot of dexterity. The average time an average person takes to reload a break-action shotgun is around 5 to 10 seconds - you spend more time reloading than shooting.
The solution to this for most people of that era was to simply use a bunch of guns, on the upwards of 4 or five, and they would holster or throw them away as soon as they got empty and pull out fresh ones. Some would even tie the revolvers to their belt so they didn’t lose them.
In fact, Blackbeard was told to be commonly seen with as much as twelve flintlock pistols in his belt.
Also, the fact that he dual-wields them also contributes to this. Reloading two break-action shotguns at the same time is a stupid, time-consuming endeavor, especially in the middle of combat, so Reaper simply pulls new guns from his hyperspace arsenal and keeps going.
Reloading would just waste the precious time he could use to kill things.
Blizzard couldn’t figure out how to animate him reloading two weapons at once was what I had heard. Though I support everything you said. :D
