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anundyingfidelity · 3 months

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TRAINING SEASON — Jensen Ackles

Summary: After a tumultuous relationship and a hard break up, you get trapped in between your co-star and a casual one night stand. But there's nothing you regret about.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x female reader, actress!reader.

Word count: 1,076.

Warnings: implied sex like the morning-after-sex, nudity, some sexy time but no full smut, friends to lovers, language, idk just wrote this quickly.

Notes: AU where Jensen is obviously single, and reader is like 38 in my head don't asky why I like this number, I still have no idea. And I just love, and I mean, loooveeee getting obsessed with hot men over 40, can you tell?

>> disclaimer: i totally respect the private lifes of the actors and celebrities i use for my fanfictions, and of course their personal relationships. this is only fiction written for fun and nothing more.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

Opening your eyes, you stirred on the soft bed and noticed your sorroundings. This wasn't your hotel room. Your bare body hidden under the blank, messy bed sheets reminded you of yesterday's events. You smiled.

The other side of the bed was warm. His body pressing against yours felt perfect, and you wrapped your hand on his own, which was laying on your waist, like if he didn't want to let go of you. Your mind started remembering his touch on your skin, the way he would kiss every inch of your stomach, the trail of kisses he left all over you, and his love bites around your neck and chest. The burning between your thighs and the soreness let you notice it was as good as you imagined it to be, even before it happened.

"Whatcha thinking?" he asked, raspy and soft voice booming in your ears.

"Mmm... Nothing, just how great you felt last night," you teased, turning your head to see his face directly. Bare skin, disheveled hair, and tired but loving eyes met you. God, he was beautiful. He looked so fucked out in the best way possible one could describe it.

Jensen chuckled and kissed your cheek. Still, he never let go his embrace on you. He looked at you vividly for a long time, scanning every feature of your face, like he wanted to save all of you in just an instant. Your brows furrowed for a moment.

"What?" you whispered.

"We didn't fuck this up, did we?"

A sigh left your lips, your hand ran on his hair softly. You knew what he meant. You had a bad relationship and an even worse break up months before you started working together, and Jensen became a great friend as you tried to overcome it. And it was so hard not to fall for him when it felt like you knew each other for decades. He was someone you could trust your deepest secrets, pain and thoughts. A part of you did not want to cry on his shoulder for days once you got comfortable around him, nor letting him know how terrible you felt at the time. But he never judged you. He just was there, listening and offering a helping hand expecting nothing back.

But your feelings changed in the course. As months went by, an amazing, caring and loving friendship bloomed between both of you. Since the project was a long new TV series, you used to spend a huge amount of time together as your characters appeared to be in a slow building relationship. And now, the premiere was done, but the press tour barely started, so that meant you were not getting away from each other in a good time now.

"No," you finally answered. "Of course no."

"I mean, I know what you been through, and I- I don't wanna ruin anything-"

"Jensen, is fine," you cut him off. His eyes locked on yours, concern washed all over his handsome face. "I am fine with this, are you?"

"Absolutely," he said. "I always was. I mean, I liked you for a long time now," he laughed a little, making you smile. One of his hands now carressing your bare thigh, feeling the heat of your skin.

Jensen leaned down and pecked your lips softly, his lips slowly found its way to your neck, kissing and biting the flesh, exactly how he did last night. He groaned, tasting the saltiness, and you let out a soft moan as he flipped you around. You laid on your back, him on top. His tongue tracing your skin, stopping right before your breats. God, you were getting wet again.

Unlucky for you, your phone started ringing, breaking the moment and Jensen, with a disappointed look on his face, gave you the space to run and answer. By the way you were talking, he figured it was your manager, so he hid behind the covers, admiring you from afar. When you ended the phone call, you walked to him. His eyes kept lusting over your naked figure as you looked for your clothes all over the room. He sadly knew you were postponing until you had enough alone time together.

"I keep forgetting we're still on press tour," you kissed his cheek softly once you put on your underwear and grabbed your clothes to get decent to leave. "I'll be going now, sorry."

"It's fine," Jensen smiled, standing up and putting up some pants. He followed you before you crossed the door. "I'll see you later tonight then, how about dinner?" he casually asked, leaning down. "And then we could probably take care of some other things," he whispered in your ear. You bit your lip, eager to know what he had in mind.

"That'll be amazing, surprise me!"

You gave him a playful wink, and taking your purse you left his room with a wide grin on your face. You were so glad you stopped dating trainees to build a relationship with. Jensen was a self-confident, expert man, and you were more than happy to give it a shot.

#jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x female reader #jensen ackles imagines #jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fic #supernatural #the boys #jensen ackles #i love you sir

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000marie198 · 10 months

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There are way too many things to analyze in this scene!

First of all, I couldn't help but notice how Nine hid away his strengths and capabilities. He internally loves and enjoys a little gloating and all but when he senses it could have a consequence, he hides it away. The same way he tends to hide his tails! The same way he refuses to fly in front of others (the only times we've seen him fly is either in front of only Sonic or to save Sonic. And just once when they were escaping from the Egg Forcers back in Escape from New Yoke City. He remained cautious throughout afterwards to not fly in front of the Resistance again.) Anyways, here in the beginning of this scene, he hides away what he can do bcoz a part of him has figured out that letting Eggman learn anymore of his capabilities could lead to a consequence, he just doesn't know what it could be.

"You think I have vision and imagination?"

There is scepticism in his voice, not hope or confidence or smugness. He knows what he can do and he is trying to hide it.

.....

Secondly, using Nine's intellect against him in a tricky way. It seems Mr Dr Eggman - ugh, this name is a mouthful, I'll just refer to him as Eggman - it seems Eggman's skills lie much more in manipulation tactics than previously presumed. He's also using the fox's insecurities to hit him where it hurts.

......

Moving on to the third thing- Nine, when his deepest insecurities were being pointed out, we could see in his eyes that the words were having an effect on him. He's a traumatized kid still and just because he had learned to fight back doesn't mean he still can't get hurt. He did get hurt in this scene.

But then he blinked and instantly composed himself and smirked back. An act. Both a coping mechanism and a method to fight back. Hide your vulnerabilities, hide and pretend to be unaffected by what hurts you so the other wouldn't succeed, so the other wouldn't keep it up. Nine did just that. He diverted what was thrown at him and turned it around.

"I'm pathetic? You're the ones with unlimited power and all you can think to do is build a bigger robot."

A deflected strike back and criticism on the other instead of falling on defending himself cuz that would've both implied he felt insecure and would've revealed his capabilities. That was one psychological attack he dealt against, which indicates he might've suffered from it in his life before (no wonder he's so bitter about the city and its inhabitants).

.....

Moving on, he clearly has as much confidence in Sonic as Tails often does, like a brother, that's pretty sweet. He has full confidence and belief that the council can't beat Sonic and he feels both smug and happy about it. He's gotten attached to the hedgehog just as much.

Whatever his goals are, whatever his end motives will be, a part of him has genuinely accepted Sonic as his kin and did so long ago, right when he asked Sonic, "What else did we do?" It's clear from analysing his character in this scene that Nine never willingly shows any of his insecurities to anyone, much less vulnerabilities. He is never open with others but in that moment, he consciously made the decision to be vulnerable with the hedgehog, to let some hope and yearning take over him in that moment. He trusted Sonic. He still cares about the other just as much.

......

And finally, that one thing that happened to poor Tails in SA2 just happened to Nine. Even the reaction is the same! Tails accidentally revealed that Sonic had the fake Emerald, Nine accidentally revealed how to be on the same level as Sonic. And both times, Eggman manipulated his way through it to get confirmation from the fox. Which is both kinda regretful and funny. I like how they sneaked in that easter egg.

Also, the way he panicked and worried and blamed himself right afterwards he cares about his friend so much! Ufhevxjfjtjfjfjjgj

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hs-is-loml · 2 years

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Love Looks Good On You. (a.t)

CHAPTER TWO

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Velaryon!OC

Summary: viserra wakes up to her grandparents informing her about her father so called "death".

Warnings: mentions of parent death, so a little angst.

a/n: little filler but that's okay it's just that xavier thorpe has been preoccupying my mind lately...

all translations of high valyrian come from google! english translations are in parentheses!!

masterlist - series masterlist

Unknowing to Viserra, in the middle of the night Laenor slipped out of the iron grip that she held on him. He fled Driftmark with Ser Qarl as soon as the sun rose.

"Viserra, Darling, wake up," Rhaenys shook Viserra gently causing the girl to stir in her sleep. "My darling, please."

"Yes, grandmother?" Viserra yawned as she rubbed her eyes. Once her vision cleared she noticed both her grandparents sitting in front of her with looks of dread written across their faces. Viserra's mind was led back to her conversation with her father last night. "No."

"Viserra, it's about your father," Corlys started.

"No. No, not him. Anyone but him," tears started to fill Viserra's eyes.

"Honey, I'm so sorry," Rhaenys pulled the girl into her embrace.

Viserra whimpered out, "How?"

Though Laenor warned her about this last night, she questioned what if they did get to him. Would she ever see her father again? Only a matter of time could tell now, but what was she supposed to do until then?

"He was found in the hall, charred in the fireplace," Corlys muttered as he wrapped his arms around his wife and granddaughter's sobbing figures.

"They did this," Viserra cried. "They killed him."

Corlys tried to reason with her, "Viserra, no one could have possibly known."

"No. They did this for their own selfish reasons because I was named heir. They mean to kill me next."

"We would never let anything happen to you," Rhaenys shushed her. "Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Viserra, come walk with me," Alicent said as she passed Viserra and Aegon in the corridor.

"Yes, Your Grace," Viserra pecked a now sad-looking Aegon on the cheek and promised him to catch up after the walk.

"I heard about your father. You have my deepest condolences, I could never imagine such loss at your age," Alicent spoke out as they both walked out on the shore near to the water. Viserra felt that her words weren't only about losing Laenor, but more about what happened with her mother.

"Thank you, Your Grace," Viserra responded.

"No more titles, Viserra. You are to marry my son soon it is only right if you call me Alicent," The Queen smiled warmly at her. "Now recalling to it, I never had the chance to properly thank you."

"What for?"

"For what you did for Aemond. He told me how you rushed to try and save him. You were not even involved in their petty arguments, but you still went to defend Aemond. Even getting hurt in the process, that is something I will never be able to repay you for," Alicent admitted to Viserra.

"But I failed?" Viserra questioned in regret believing if she was a second faster in her movements Aemond's eye could have been saved.

Alicent stopped in her tracks and pulled Viserra by her wrist into a hug. It had been so long to feel a motherly embrace that wasn't Rhaenys that Viserra practically melted in Alicent's arms.

"It does not matter whether you failed or not, my dear. It is the fact that was your first instinct of what to do. From the moment Aemond told me that, I knew I can always be able to trust you to do what is best for them," Alicent explained to her. "They are stubborn, my boys."

"I would do it all again if it meant your sons would be safe," Viserra claimed.

"Oh, my darling girl, you do not know how thankful I am for you being in their lives. Aegon absolutely loves you with his very being, and Aemond looks up to you," Alicent told her. "It was torture for Aegon when Rhaenyra moved your family to Dragonstone."

Viserra tensed in her arms after Alicent said the word family. She broke away from Alicent with a small smile.

"That boy is full of complaints," Viserra laughed. "The letters he would send me were just filled with him telling me how bored he was."

"Sounds like Aegon," Alicent breathed out a small laugh.

"Okay, we will visit you in a few moons, so do not grow up too much yet," Rhaenys smiled at Viserra tucking a loose piece of her hair behind her ear.

"We are always a raven away if you ever need us for anything," Corlys reminded Viserra as he pulled her into a hug. "I mean it, Viserra. Anything."

"Yes, Grandfather, I know," Viserra laughed.

"Corlys, quick smothering the girl or she might not even make it back to King's Landing at this rate," Rhaenys joked.

"Oh, hush, you two," Corlys shushed them.

"Be careful when you are riding Silverwing back, always be-" Rhaenys started.

"Loud and clear, I know," Viserra gave a small bittersweet smile remembering the way Laenor would always remind her about being loud and clear with her commands before riding Silverwing.

"I will never understand how you two do not get sick from flying that high in the air," Corlys gave a small shiver as he thought about dragon back.

"I will never understand how you are willing to wait that long on a ship to get to places," Viserra countered.

"Oh my-" Corlys sighed. "Viserra, you tell me if that Aegon boy is causing you any trouble alright?"

"Yes, of course," she replied. "That's only if I don't get to him first."

"That's my girl," Corlys smiled.

"Okay, be safe out there, and we love you," Rhaenys told the girl.

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vampyrsm · 1 year

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ok one thing before i go shower

Imagine somehow managing to make Bakugou so desperate for you that he begs, it takes a while to get him to that point. A lot of teasing, “blue balling” as he’d put it. You have him chasing you for more and you never give it to him, not until he breaks.

Corners you late one night, pinning you to your work desk with both his arms caging you and you’d think he was just messing with you, but he has the most pathetic look on his face. His eyebrows are drawn together, his eyes are half-lidded staring down his nose at you. He has the deepest flush on his cheeks, creeping up from his chest and onto his neck — his full lips parted just a little so you can feel him actually panting against yours.

His hips unwillingly rut forward just enough for you to feel how hard he is for you, and you haven’t even done anything.

“C’mon…” he starts, a slight whine to his voice that is so foreign you’re just stunned into disbelief. Is he about to— “Please.. need you so fuckin’ bad.”

The word please coming from Bakugou Katsuki’s mouth is enough to have your panties soaked, your thighs clenching at the whiny tone of his voice. He’s so desperate for you, and he’s unashamed of the way he’s going about it now. He’ll get his ‘payback’ when he’s finally got you beneath him where he can fuck you silly until you regret making him wait so long.

#— alex rambles #— bkg thirst #i was gonna write this for dabi originally #but i want to make bakugou beg ..#and dabi but another time

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maddithefangirl · 1 year

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Things Unsaid (Azriel x Reader) Part 2

Warnings: AnGsT

Prompt: “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” “But you did! You did.”

a/n: When getting requests for a part two I had no clue where I was going to take this story, but I really enjoy how it turned out. xo

Part 1

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟ･⭑⭑･ﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

“If I’m so bad, why are you still here?” “Because I fucking love you.” Those words hang in the air for a long time before you even think to respond. All you can think to say is, “Get out.”

The moment he leaves, you regret not listening to him, but he hurt you… he really hurt you. There was nothing that was going to change that. You call for Mor as you start crying. You had been in this relationship for 50 years… how could you throw all of that away? Both Mor and Nesta come to your side. You really needed their comfort right now. They lay you down on the couch. Mor sets your head in her lap as Nesta sits on the floor to face you and grabs your ever-shaking hands, “Don’t worry, Cass isn’t getting away with this either.” That surprises a chuckle out of you mid-sob.

You have never felt so broken in your life.

…

You don’t remember falling asleep until you wake up to thin streams of light shining onto your face. The couch is hard beneath you as all the aches and pains come in full force. It feels like the worst hangover you have ever had then memories hit you all at once.

Your heart ached. You willed yourself to get up before anyone saw you. As you made your way to the spare room you always know is set up, a stray tear fell down your cheek. You managed not to run into anyone on your way thank goodness. You didn’t want any more pity than you were already getting. It was humiliating for your closest friends to find out that information before you did. You always imagined that relationship problems lived behind closed doors… but you didn’t know you had relationship problems until now.

There was a chilling breeze that came in from the open window. Even though you just woke up, you decided that a nap was in order.

…

Azriel fucked up. Big time. He spent all night pacing in your shared townhouse. What was he going to do? He just might have ruined the one good thing he had in his life.

The crisp morning air nipped at his skin as he continued to pace. He let his deepest secret out of the bag last night, and although it was definitely due to the alcohol he had no business sharing that, even with his brother. That was something he meant to go to the grave with. Damn, there was no fixing this.

Az decided he was going to go talk to you today whether you wanted to see him or not.

…

It was afternoon by the time you woke up to the sounds of yelling coming from the living room. All you heard from the other room was, “Get the fuck out of here, she doesn’t want to see you,” from who you can only assume is Mor. Fuck, he’s here. You were not ready for this conversation you knew needed to happen.

If you were going to have this conversation, it was going to be on your terms. So, you got up and started running a nice hot bath. He can wait.

By the time you’re bathed and dressed you had semi-mentally prepared yourself for the conversation. You were going to be strong no matter what. You braided your hair and put on your favorite outfit as you made your way to the living room.

He was stood by the large windows looking out over the city with his hands clasped behind his back. His shadows came to wrap around your ankles and up your legs until they settled along your shoulders. The sun was setting over the city as you watched him turn around and check you out. Typical. “Y/N, my dove, we need to talk,” he said quiet enough just for you to hear it.

“Well I’m here aren’t I?”

“Look, I made a mistake… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“But you did! You did.”

“I know and I’m sorry. I meant for that to go with me to the grave… It was never meant to get out.

“What do you mean you were going to take it to the grave? What happened to, I don’t know, honesty and trust? Did you really think you could get away with this?”

You ended that question with your hands over your chest and you head raised high. He was not going to get the best of you.

“Wha- What I meant was that it wasn’t an issue for me so that’s why I never brought it up.” He feels tears in his eyes but he won’t let them fall.

“Well obviously it is an issue if you go and tell Cassian! I cannot believe you. I can’t trust you! Give me one good reason to stay.”

“I love you… Isn’t that reason enough?”

“No, no it’s not.”

...

Part 3

Part 2 Taglist: @psychobookaholic

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel angst #maddithefangirl

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madaboutmunson · 1 year

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Ok because the other two little fics were so well liked my brain could stop thinking about it.

So we've got how the song in question was written, the song when Corroded Coffin make it big, so consider this one the last time that song is ever played live by Corroded Coffin.

It starts with a little shocker so I've hidden the story under a read more so people don't accidently read it, in case it upsets anyone, but trust me when I say it's not all doom and gloom 😉 I got you 💚

The day the news of music legend Eddie Munson passing breaks, it plunged the world into deep, dark despair. A shocking departure that stopped newsreaders in their tracks to announce it.

The bombshell news was plastered everywhere for weeks, billboards, posters, newspapers, magazines, murals, tv show opening monologues, and this thing slowly emerging, the internet, had its forums full of theories as to what had happened, as no announcement had come from the Corroded Coffin camp as yet.

There was no sign of illness or injury. No accident or crime details. He seemed to have just...died.

The outpourings of condolences from countless heavy metal icons, hundreds of celebrities, some of which you would never have even guessed, liked Corroded Coffin, millions of fans worldwide held candle-lit vigils and sang their songs sombrely acapella in meeting places all around the world.

A week later, the band finally released a written statement.

"It was during the hellish times of high school that Eddie found us, protected us, guided us and forged this band of brothers that would go on to conquer not just our fears but the entire world. Impossible dreams came true countless times over, but now we sit in a waking nightmare at the loss of our leader, so now our time must come to an end.

A band is a sum of its parts, and with any one of us gone, this is simply not Corroded Coffin anymore. So it is with the deepest sadness but no regrets we have to say goodnight to you one last time.

Thank you for sticking by us all these years.

Remember to look out for one another.

HFC 4 Eva

The Remains of Corroded Coffin"

With the statement is an announcement that there will be a tribute show organised by Corroded Coffin, but they declined to play all but one song, which a special guest on guitar.

A month later, the tribute show goes ahead, but no stadium can hold it due to demand, mainly because the band had to fulfil Eddie's final wishes.

One of which was causing the most problems, Eddie wanted every member of the Corroded Coffin fan club to get the first refusal on a space at the tribute show. So no matter where in the world they were from, they were invited and their travel expenses paid, or something set up so they could join the live feed.

Eddie had jokingly set up the fan club at a merch table in the early days. It got you a Corroded Coffin badge, a hand-painted d20, a poster, access to a monthly newsletter/comic and a hand-drawn membership card signed on the back by the band, all for the price of five dollars. As the band grew, the fan club pack stayed the same, except the merch was better quality, it had to be mass-produced, and the price was lowered to one dollar.

The band also often had membership cards on their person or gave them out for free to fans that wanted them through their music charity for kids living in low-income areas.

So as you can imagine, there were thousands of potential attendees, but if you didn't have the card, you weren't getting in, no matter how much money you had or how famous you were.

The crowd is a sea of Corroded Coffin fans of all ages and all walks of life.

The first people out on stage are Corroded Coffin.

All of them.

The three band members wheel out an enormous coffin encased in rusted metal sheets with haphazardly driven rivets to keep it together, standing up tall, onto a platform at the back of the stage. They do this in absolute silence. The crowd is so hushed that on the recording, you can hear the ting of someone dropping a can.

Then the chants start, "Eddie! Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!" Hauntingly fierce like an army ready for battle, they know they can't win.

It spreads across the ocean of fans like a ripple of deafening voices.

Then the concert begins. Not only is the lineup littered with some of the most famous musical artists in the world, but also many of Eddie's favourite bands, and to introduce each of them is a celebrity pairing.

Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley. Prize-winning journalist and film director, respectively.

Tech Whiz Kids Dustin Henderson and Erica Sinclair.

Internet entrepreneur duo Jargyle.

Jim Hopper and Joyce Byers. Heads of a missing children's charity.

Award-winning scientists Mike and Will Byler.

Novelist Lucas Sinclair and Skateboarding legend Mad Max.

Then lastly, a fan favourite, Eddie's Uncle Wayne. He had made a cameo appearance in every video they had ever made, was on every concert video and was always thanked in the album notes.

"It is my greatest honour that the boys chose me to introduce the last performance of the evening. I know this song was his favourite, and many of yours also. So without further ado...Sadly, for the final time, Ladies and Gentleman, I give you Corroded Coffin," he shouts finally over the crowd's roar as flames shoot out of the sides of the coffin on stage, and the three remaining members walk out.

They say nothing and launch into the heaviest song Corroded Coffin ever wrote.

A lead guitar joins in but with no guitarist to be seen.

As the song draws to a close, a man walks out in a denim battle vest a little too snug for him, his hair voluminous but dishevelled. He's holding the prop guitar.

He swings it around, smashing it into the floor behind him, and with an almighty swing back in front of him, the guitar must know this is its last show because the body splits in two. The man rips the neck of the guitar out of the body and holds it above his head. The fake blood spills out of his mouth, and the tears flood down his face as he punches the air in time with the Eddie chants before he blows a kiss at the crowd and then one at the coffin.

There is a curtain call for all involved as pyros and flames fill the air around the stage until the last fan leaves the area. Then the curtain finally drops.

Everyone heads backstage or to the trailers behind it for food and drinks.

All except one person. Steve Harrington.

He looks around to ensure the coast is clear, approaches the giant coffin structure, and puts his hand on it, still warm from the flames.

"I never did find the right time to tell you this, and it looks like I'm too late." The tears prick his eyes again, and the first one that escapes down his cheek causes the rest to follow in droves.

His sobs are so loud he covers his mouth to quiet them for fear of anyone overhearing, "I love you, Eddie. I just didn't know how to say it, I-I d-didn't know if you felt the same, so I'd act like I didn't care and hoped you'd make the first move, but you didn't. And then you got famous, and were gone. I saw you a handful of times, and every time I wanted to tell you, something got in the way, or I chickened out, you know, because...well, because maybe you'd reject me and hate me or worse, you'd want what I did, and the press would eat you for breakfast. It would have ruined everything you built, and I couldn't handle that."

He runs his hands through his hair, bows his head, and presses his forehead against the warm sheet metal. "I couldn't take that chance because I loved you so much, so very very much, Eddie." He plants a kiss on his fingertips and presses it against the name plaque on the coffin. He lets out a final guttural sob. "See you on the other side, Munson", he manages finally and walks away.

He takes a last look back over his shoulder as he wipes the tears from his eyes, and Steve swears he sees the thing move.

He shakes his head and takes a few more steps, he can hear Eddie cursing under his breath in his mind, and it makes him smile.

But then Steve freezes to the spot because there is a loud clang behind him. He doesn't want to turn around and fix Eddie's coffin, but who else is going to do it, right?

"Well, that was suffocating!" Eddies voice rings in Steve's head.

Steve steels himself and prepares to see the worst as he turns back towards the coffin, only to find the front of it completely off its hinges, and standing draped in his guitar, with crumbs in his hair and hat with two beer cans in with straws, is one, very alive Eddie Munson.

Steve cannot move. He mutters, "Oh god, I've finally lost it."

Eddie looks at Steve with a perplexed look on his face, "Ah, yeah, you have" he puts his hands on his hips, "Keeping a secret like that from me for like a decade. First of all, how fucking dare you wait until I end everything to tell me, and secondly, get over here, you big stud, and give me some well overdue sugar."

"What...the...fuck..." Steve fearfully whispers to himself, "I'm actually insane."

"Eddie!!" Dustin's excited voice rings out behind Steve as he charges forward, embracing him.

"Hey, watch my guitar, you little shrimp!" Eddie giggles and Ruffles Dustin's hair.

"Wait a second now," Steve says, finger pointed out in front of him, slowly stepping forward, "You can see him?"

Now it's Dustin's turn to look confused at Steve. He scoffs out a laugh, "Well, of course, I can! Are you feeling ok, Steve?"

"But...but...but he died...again...is he like... immortal, or something. Like a-a vamp.. vampire?" Steve tries gingerly, moving closer, one hand still stretched out in front of him like he's trying to ward off something evil.

Dustin and Eddie look at one another in confusion and start laughing.

"Steve, have you sampled some of the special backstage treats?" Eddie asks and turns back to Dustin, "I mean, that might explain why he also just confessed he's had a massive boner about me for over a decade!"

"Really?" Dustin says curiously, and Eddie nods as he takes off his guitar. "Wow."

Then the others start piling onto the stage, all of Eddie's nearest and dearest, and all of them are smiling and laughing and joking, except for Steve, who is watching this happen around him until he erupts.

"How can you all be so god damn normal about this??!!!!! He's just come back from the dead. Not like last time when he passed out. He's been dead for like a fucking month, and your all just-just fucking OK WITH THAT??!!" Steve is yelling at the top of his lungs, hands gesticulating wildly at them all, still keeping his distance, and the group falls silent.

"Oh, no, honey," Joyce says soothingly, walking towards Steve. "It's ok, it must be really scary to see this kind of thing, but you remember, right? It's all just for show." She turns and whispers to Hopper, "I knew all those bumps to the head needed looking at."

"FOR SHOW?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN FOR SHOW?! IT WAS EVERY-FUCKING-WHERE" Steve starts counting on his fingers, "It-it was on the news, and-and in all the papers, and-and the fans did all those vigils" He points accusingly at the band, "You were at least three of those!!"

Robin's eyes go wide "Steve, it's me, Robin. Hi!" She approaches him slowly, "I'm real. We're all real here. Everything is ok" Once Robin is within arms distance of Steve, he pokes at her and squeezes her arm to make sure she is, in fact, real, "OW!! Jesus!!!"

She bats Steve's hands away, "Ok, enough. Listen, did you open the fan club mail this month?"

"The fan cl-? What the hell are you talking about?? Is this a nightmare? Am I dead??!! Is this Hell??!!!" Steve shouts into the air.

"In this month's fanzine, it explained everything. The band wanted to stop and spend time with their families and start new projects, but the press was getting to a fever pitch with them. Gareth had his bins rifled through. Jeff couldn't even take his kid out for his birthday without getting hounded. So Eddie came up with this plan. That way, no one gets blamed for breaking up the band. It just is no more." Robin explains compassionately to Steve.

"So the whole crowd, all of you and the bands, they all knew it was fake?" Steve asks quietly whilst everyone is still staring at him and Robin.

Robin nods but then adds, "Well, not the other bands. We couldn't risk it, but we and the fans are loyal enough to keep a secret. Plus, if anyone even tries to say they've seen him, they'll be labelled like those Bigfoot-spotting people."

Steve shakes his head, "But I'm not a member of the fan club?!"

"The absolute audacity!!! What, you fucking love me, but you're not a member of my band's fan club? What kind of half-assed groupie are you?" Eddie shouts, astounded and a little insulted at Steve.

Jeff turns to Eddie, "You knew he wasn't, man. You made him that special membership card at the hideout for valentine's day, but you never gave it to him, remember?"

"Shut up!" Eddie says through gritted teeth at Jeff.

Steve stands more confidently, his hands on his hips, "Oh, is that so?"

"Yeah, that's right", Gareth laughs, "And then when we were talking about this, you said you'd call him and tell him yourself, Eddie, remember?"

Eddie bites his bottom lip and tries to look as innocent as he can from under his hair, smirking over at Steve, "Did I say that? Really? Funny thing that... I don't remember"

Steve's eyes go wide, "Why, you little shit!!" Steve runs and lunges for Eddie. Eddie is laughing and yelling as he's being chased around the stage by Steve, who eventually captures him in a bear hug when he runs the wrong way around the drum kit.

"urgh...god...let me..." Eddie struggles angrily and tries to wriggle free as Steve squeezes him.

"Oh-hoh no, you are going nowhere, you little prick!" Steve says, squeezing him tighter, making Eddie's face screw up, "What you did, was so not cool!"

"I...only...did...it...cus..." Eddie tries to talk, but it is difficult. He can hardly breathe.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Excuses. You wanted to make me look like an idiot!" Steve says with an unimpressed tone.

Eddie's face is turning pink as he frantically shakes his head in a no.

"Oh, you didn't? Then why?" Steve says, loosening his grip enough for Eddie to take a breath.

Eddie's body sags a little as he takes a deep breath, "Because... I wanted to see if you'd be sad if I died." Eddie says quickly, "I mean, I didn't expect you to agree to headline and the whole speech, you know?" Eddie says, trying to hold back an adoring smile.

Steve squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head in disbelief, "You made me go through a month of grief to see if I would be sad if you died?"

"Well...it was supposed to be just a day, but then I got genuinely distracted by everything, and then it was two weeks later, and then I thought I could surprise you by jumping out of the coffin, and you'd be overjoyed and I'd say something romantic to maybe win you over, like..." Eddie looks everywhere but at Steve as he details everything.

"Like what? What could you possibly say to make up for that, you complete shithead!" Steve says with an angry squeeze, making Eddie wince and groan.

"That I fought an army of angels and the hordes of hell for one kiss from your sinfully perfect heavenly lips because you're my muse, my love." Eddie manages to get the words out with a struggle.

"What?" Steve says, lessening his grip.

"The songs I write, the ones with my name next to them on the albums, they're all about you," Eddie says as he catches his breath.

"What?" Steve says again, wholly bewildered and fully releases Eddie.

"Our first number one, the one that got a Grammy, and was used in a bunch of movies. That's about you. The um, slow one with the choir on the unplugged album, that's about you. The one we close the shows with, the one with no words, that's about you too. And loads more," Eddie says, adjusting his clothes, looking back up at a dumbfounded Steve, "What? You had no idea? You don't remember? in the garage? You corrected the spelling of sleeve, but it was supposed to be Steve. I just forgot to cross the t" Eddie looks between Steve's eyes for a glimmer of comprehension.

"Ohhh", Steve says finally and points at himself and smiles.

Eddie smiles back at this lovable weirdo and nods.

Steve claps his hands together and looks pleased as punch, turning to the others still pointing at himself with a look of happy surprise.

Everyone nods at him except for Mike, who throws his hands up, "Are you kidding me? The song we danced to at our wedding was about Steve??? Oh my god!" Mike has to be consoled by Will and Nancy.

Steve eventually turns back to Eddie with a massive smile on his face.

Eddie plays with his hair and looks coyly up at Steve swaying from left to right, "So I dunno, do you maybe wanna come live on a secret island with me for a few years until people forget about me, maybe? I mean, I'll have to get my hair buzzed first, and um, lose the whole rockstar get up" Eddie looks up hopefully and gives a cute little shrug.

Steve folds his arms and taps his lips thoughtfully, "Hmmm."

"OH, MY GOD! Could you grown-ass idiots just kiss already? I could be solving the mysteries of the goddamn world, ok? But instead, I'm stuck here waiting for a long-haired freak and his little ex-sailor boy bride to figure out what everyone else knew years ago!!" Erica shouts, exasperated.

"Apart from Mike", Dustin whispers.

"Yeah, except Mike, who is also on team dumbass!" Erica adds.

"Hey!!" Mike says, annoyed, and is immediately swamped by Will, Joyce and Nancy as Hopper pats Erica on the shoulder with a smile.

"Get offa me, sasquatch!" She says, rolling her eyes.

"Well, you heard the lady," Steve says with a smile walking with an over-the-top swagger towards Eddie.

Eddie grins mischievously, jumps up to grip onto Steve like a koala on a eucalyptus tree, and kisses him, once on the lips, with an audible mwah sound.

Steve looks at him with a laugh, "I hope you've got more where that came from because you've got a lot to make up for, Eddie Munson."

AO3 Link

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mischiefandmedicine · 3 months

Text

Very Full - Chapter 7: Dream a Little Dream of Me

Summary: Melara confronts Loki at the end of time.

Word Count: 2,611 words.

Chapter Warnings: Fluff, implied smut (sorry, my kiddos were reading this story, so I couldn't write it full-blown smut how I wanted to...maybe in another story about these characters because I already have another one in the works).

Soundtrack Link

This Chapter's Music Inspiration:

Dream a Little Dream of Me performed by Anne Reburn

Very Full MASTERLIST

Previous Chapter

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

---

A/N: Writing this chapter made me cry. Every time I re-read it, I cry. It's a little shorter than the rest, but it gets the job done.

---

The spectral form of Loki, flickering at the edges where the moonlight met the shadow, eyed Melara with a tumult of emotions playing across his face. It was a face torn between worlds, between the stark duties of a god and the raw, burgeoning need of a being who now found himself inexplicably bound to a mortal.

“I told you, I simply cannot take you to me,” he began, his voice a mixture of regret and iron-clad resolve. “There are consequences, Melara, repercussions that ripple through time and space, affecting not just us, but the very fabric of this…your reality.”

Melara’s gaze did not falter, her voice rising to match the intensity of her emotions. “And what of the consequences of your absence here? Of promises half-fulfilled, of a presence that is more shadow than substance?” Her words, sharp as shards of glass, aimed to pierce the veil of his indecision.

Loki’s form shimmered, a sign of the conflict raging within. He was the guardian of the timelines, the one who sat upon the throne at the end of all things, and yet here he was, grappling with the deeply personal, intimate plea of a woman who had managed to carve a niche in his ancient heart.

“The fabric of your world…of you…has become interwoven with every essence of my being,” he confessed, his usual flamboyance stripped away, leaving raw honesty. “Even across the great distance. To bring you to me is to expose you to the infinite complexities of existence, to the eternal burden I carry. It is to risk more than you can imagine.”

Melara’s response was laden with a heartbreaking mixture of hope and despair. “I have shared my darkest fears, my deepest pain with you. I have been vulnerable in ways I never thought possible. Can you not trust me to face your truth?”

Loki’s projection continued to kneel before her, a symbolic gesture that transcended the physical distance between them. “It is not a matter of trust,” he whispered, his voice carrying an echo of his duty to protect both the timelines and her. “It is a matter of safeguarding what I have come to cherish above all else. What you seek is redemption, Melara, and it is I who should be redeemed.”

The air was thick with the unspoken words and the gravity of the decision that lay before him. Loki’s eyes closed, a silent prayer to the fates that had led him to this juncture. When they opened, a new determination sparkled in his eyes, a clarity that had been absent moments before.

“I will bring you to me,” he said, the words falling like stones into the stillness of the room. “But you must be prepared for the journey, for the truth of what you will see. You must understand that who is before you is but one facet of a being forged in the crucible of time and chaos.”

Melara stood resolute in her demand. “Take me to him,” she repeated simply.

And with those words, the room around them began to shift, the walls of reality thinning as Loki extended his hand towards her, covering her eyes as a gust of air blew at her tousled hair. The veil between their worlds was lifting, and together they stepped forward into the maelstrom of destiny, their fates forever entwined.

Melara’s eyes fluttered open at the cessation of the breeze, the air still, yet charged around her. The chill of the air made her shiver in her thin nightgown, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around herself for warmth. Her gaze fell upon her feet, bare against the cold marble that seemed to stretch endlessly before her, leading upwards in the dark. The staircase before her was majestic, its surface a dance of gold and onyx-colored stone, each step seemingly alive with a light that pulsed from the cracks, veins of power leading towards an ethereal vortex swirling with hues of green and purple.

Loki’s projection, a guide at the threshold of worlds, nodded towards the ascent. “Up you go,” was all he said, his voice a whisper in the vastness.

With a breath that felt like the first, Melara began her climb, each step resonating with the echo of destinies being woven and unwoven in the distance. The closer she came to the apex, the more the timelines, those ribbons of fate, sang with the voices of countless lives lived and yet to be lived.

There, at the summit, sat Loki, his form more substantial than any projection could encapsulate, immersed in the silent orchestration of time itself. His eyes, pools of eternity, were fixed on the dance of green strands that flowed through his fingers like water. He was the architect of destinies, the custodian of time’s flow, and she recognized this as the vision she’d had of him night after night in her dreams since the day they had met. The sight of Melara seemed to puncture the very fabric of his being, a single tear betraying the stoicism etched into his features.

In one swift motion that held the grace of the ages, he drew the timelines around him, crafting them into a cloak that shimmered with the essence of all realities, the throne beneath him as much a part of him as the breath of the cosmos. As Melara approached, each step reverent and bold, she reached out to touch the tear, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast to the cold she had felt from the lips of his projection just moments before.

Her hands, tender and hesitant, traced the contours of a face marked by the passage of eons, the lines telling stories of laughter, of sorrow, of battles fought in the shadows and light. He responded to her touch, a being of power yielding to the simple act of a physical connection, the need to be seen, to be felt.

Seated in the cradle of his existence, she leaned in, her lips finding his in a kiss that was a confluence of the past, present, and future – a merging of mortal and divine. The kiss deepened, and Loki’s embrace enfolded her, the timelines now a radiant backdrop to the union of two souls drawn together across the impossible expanse of reality. His fingers explored the reality of her, a contrast to the timelines that he had only manipulated but never felt as he felt her now.

In their embrace, the universe seemed to pause, the timelines glowing ever brighter, a testament to the power of a moment that defied the very laws of nature. It was a passion born of the convergence of two paths, a mortal and a god, in the heart of infinite realities and realms as Loki pulled Melara to rest in his lap, not releasing her lips until she pulled away gasping for air.

Melara’s eyes fluttered open in the stillness that followed their kiss, locking with Loki’s. The chaotic dance of the timelines around them seemed to slow as if giving them a rare moment of tranquility amidst the usual tumult of the multiverse. She gazed into the eyes of the god who had woven himself into her life, her expression a blend of awe and affection, the enormity of the moment not lost on her.

With a weak but heartfelt smile, she whispered, “Hello,” her voice barely rising above the whispers of time that threaded through the space around them. It was a greeting, yes, but also an acknowledgment of the new depth to their relationship, a single word that spoke volumes of acceptance and understanding.

Loki, taken aback by the simplicity and depth of her greeting, returned her smile with a warmth that had nothing to do with the power he wielded. “Hello,” he echoed, the word a promise and an offering, a vow to honor the trust she placed in him at this confluence of their lives.

Melara’s voice trembled as she began to speak, but Loki gently placed a finger upon her lips, silencing the fight within her. His eyes, a mirror to the cosmos, gazed into hers with a silent intensity. “Melara,” he whispered, the timbre of his voice quivering with the truth of his heart, “across the distances, you have managed to bewitch me, mind, body, and soul. From the very first note that escaped those lips, I have loved you.” There was a sacred silence that fell between them, as if the universe paused to concede to the depth of his confession.

The timelines cast their emerald glow on Melara and Loki. Melara, ever blunt and unmoved by Loki’s grandeur, met his gaze with a mixture of warmth and reprimand. “That’s quite the speech, but you’re not off the hook yet,” she teased, her tone light yet firm. “You’ve got a lot of making up to do, Loki. But…I suppose being loved by a god isn’t the worst fate in the cosmos,” she admitted, a playful nod to his confession.

Loki’s gaze softened as warmth blossomed on Melara’s skin, her words igniting a flush that spread across her cheeks. Gently, he cradled her face in his hand, savoring the genuine touch, the real connection that had eluded him until this moment – a sharp contrast to the hollow interactions of his projection that she had rejected so fervently just before her journey to his throne.

In the stillness of their profound embrace, Melara’s breath whispered against the fabric of reality, her voice a tender caress in the vast silence of the throne room. She drew near, her lips a breath away from Loki’s ear, the softness and warmth of her skin as it brushed against his elicited a long melodious sigh from his lips as she began to sing the words, “Stars shining up above you.” She smiled, leaning her head against his.

“Night breezes seem to whisper,” pausing, she carefully whispered the words “I love you.”

Loki’s entire essence melted as she continued, enveloping him in the quiet melody she had chosen, an Earth song of dreams and whispered love.

Birds singing in the sycamore trees, Dream a little dream of me.

A single tear fell from her eye as she pulled back to drink in the sight and scent of Loki. His skin was soft and his smell was a delicious resinous fragrance, reminiscent of the deep, verdant forests surrounding her hometown. The lyrics were clear in her intent, a gentle declaration meant for him alone. Her voice was subdued compared to the belted words she had crooned on the night they had first met. This essence of her voice floated with the subtle vibration that resonated down to the core of his corporeal being. Loki, the god of stories, found himself enveloped in a narrative of intimate simplicity, a single, shared moment that eclipsed the grandeur of his dominion over time and space.

Say ‘night-y night’ and kiss me.

She paused to kiss Loki’s forehead gently.

Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me.

Another pause to kiss each of his eyelids sweetly.

While I’m alone and blue as can be, Dream a little dream of me.

And yet another pause to choke back the tears from falling. Loki wiped them, mesmerized as she continued with a smile, the song soaring as she rocked the pair slowly, arms tightening around Loki’s shoulders as they sat entwined on the throne.

Stars fading but I linger on, dear, Still craving your kiss. I’m longing to linger ‘til dawn, dear, Just saying this…

Melara bit her lip, her voice cracking as she let a bittersweet giggle float from her lips before continuing.

Sweet dreams ‘til sunbeams find you, Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you, But in your dreams, whatever they be… Dream a little dream of me.

On the throne seated at the end of time, Loki and Melara lingered as the last notes of her song hovered in the air, threatening to be set adrift by the whirling of the timeline cloak draped down Loki’s back. He cradled Melara, memorizing her every curve, the drape of her hair as it framed her face, how her eyes glowed, reflecting the light of the timelines burning brighter from the strength that her presence gave to Loki’s magic.

Melara leaned in to kiss Loki’s lips carefully, pulling back to whisper against them, “Do you hear that Loki?”

“What’s that?” he asked her curiously.

A twinkle of mischief gleamed in her eyes as a smile pulled at her lips as they ghosted Loki’s. “I believe that’s the sound of the great god of stories brought to his knees by a mere mortal’s song. The tales of the wild woman who stole his heart will be told across the multiverse.”

Loki, the architect of fates and weaver of time’s threads, could not help but laugh heartily – a genuine, heartfelt sound that eased the tension of the moment between them. Their argument faded to a distant memory as Melara’s laughter joined his, a duet that filled the chamber with a lightness that belied the gravity of their surroundings. For just that moment, they were not mortal and god caught in the machinations of destiny, but two souls sharing a connection that transcended the bounds of their respective existences.

It was unspoken between them that this was likely the only time they would ever share the same space, at least without an avatar getting between them. Neither of them chose to dwell on that fact. Instead, they shared this bittersweet joke between them, a nod to the intimacy that had grown between them over the few weeks when Loki stood watch over her recovery.

As the laughter and smiles faded, they just gazed into each other’s eyes, protecting the other from a reality that would soon set in. But first, they would make this truly a moment to savor for the rest of their respective lives, lips meeting again, this time passionately.

***

“Nope!” Saoirse stood up, raising her hands in protest. “No, no, no, no, no, no. Nope! Uh uh. You are NOT going to tell me about how you banged my mother on that fucking…I mean…that throne up there!”

Loki nearly fell out of his oversized velvet green armchair in laughter as he watched his daughter nearly to the edge of vomiting as she thought of him and Melara and their encounter at the end of time. “I don’t have to tell you anything, daughter. Your mere existence is the result of it.”

“Loki!” Saoirse shouted, conjuring a rock to hurl in her father’s direction, him catching it just as swiftly as it was tossed. “Just stop! You were supposed to be telling me about her performance! Not…not this.”

His laughter dwindled into the softness of the expansive room, a gentle reminder of where he had left off in the story. He cleared his throat, the velvet timbre of his voice taking on a reverent tone. “Very well,” he cooed. “But I assure you it would not be nearly as interes-…”

Picking up the blade beside her, Saoirse pointed the tip directly at Loki, a threatening glare darkening her eyes with purple hues shimmering. “I assure you that the story I asked for would be much more [dry heave] fascinating.”

“Okay, okay. Just put the blade down. It pains me to see you dry heave while wielding such a magnificent weapon,” he said in jest, waving at the dagger pointed at him. “Know where you came from and all that nonsense, right? But where were we?”

Saoirse rolled her eyes angrily, lowering the dagger while mumbling under her breath, “God of fucking mischief!”

---

Tags: @mischief2sarawr

#loki masterlist #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki marvel #loki #loki series #loki x reader

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the-suitable-poet · 6 months

Text

!(A letter to my future self)

As 2023 nears its end, with just a month remaining, and just two days away from my birthday, this moment, the opener of the last month, brings with it a hangover from the year, a realisation that I am no longer the same person I once was.

This year, in particular, has been a been quite a ride for me. From changing my address to changing the whole trajectory of my life, it has experienced it all. Receiving my Spotify wrap-up for the year, I'm reminded of the magic of music – how it can evoke the deepest of emotions, reliving the highest highs and the lowest lows. These songs have become a soundtrack to a year of transformation, from a self-destructive lifestyle to one disciplined by necessity.

It's astonishing how much one can experience in a year. This year has made me realise the breadth of time – how in just twelve months, life can flip upside down, leaving you a stranger to the person you were at the year's start.

Is every year like this? Probably not!! Does it happen often? Nope!! So, what makes it special? The tapestry of memories, decisions, reactions, and everything in between.

I'm not here to tally my achievements or losses. In fact, writing this down is a first for me. But for once, let's not keep score, let's not try to get one better, try not to reach somewhere. Instead, let's embrace the moment and recognise ourselves. Find that inner calm that others can sense. Be unconventional – be a monk with a stylish haircut, be a priest in shorts and a T-shirt or a father in jeans and a hoodie. If it's hard to imagine, then be the one to break the mold. Be the outlaw, the outcast, the nerd who knows nothing of Star Wars or the MCU.

In life, we should allow ourselves the simple joys – laugh a little, cry a little, sleep a little, walk a little. When you find yourself at a crossroads, dare to take the road less traveled. Maybe you will find something interesting, some long lost memory, a forgotten friends, someone you were madly in love once, something you didn't even knew you had.

Be curious to explore beyond your comfort zone. Set sail on new adventures, for each journey is a quest to find the missing piece of your life's puzzle.

Life's meaning isn't something to be found but experienced. Embrace the chaos of possibilities, much like a chessboard at the start of a game. With every move, new worlds of possibility unfold. Chess, like life, is an intricate dance of choices and consequences, endless in its variations.

Never underestimate the importance of the seemingly small. You might have missed those particular opportunities that led you to become an Olympic shooter, or a traveller, or a vineyard owner, or a rock star, or a planet-saving physicist, or an IIT graduate, or the million other things, but you are still in some way all of those people.

As you age, you'll realise that much of what once seemed important fades into insignificance. Emptiness isn't a void; it's a canvas for existence. Use it to shape your life's meaning.

We are all just wandering through the tundra of our existence, assigning value to worthlessness, when all that we love and hate, all we believe in and fight for and kill for and die for is as meaningless as images projected onto a screen.

These thoughts might seem disjointed, but perhaps that's the essence of life – a puzzle we're all trying to solve. Our lives are a tapestry of reactions, decisions, and their consequences.

Life is a kaleidoscope – it's anything and everything you want it to be. A topsy-turvy ride, a roller-coaster ride, a ride full of useless decisions and nonsense reactions, a life full of regrets and mistakes, and it still can be a life worth living for.

And if you think you can ask me questions and get some sense out of all the things I have written so far, well, I will think about it tomorrow, for tomorrow is just another day.

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jekyll-doodles · 1 year

Note

I'm a little curious about what 035's new containment procedures or containment chamber would be? I mean for the human one. You don't have to answer but basically just a rough idea of what it would be.

I'd imagine the new containment cell would be similar to other human scps: something like a dorm room or small apartment. Although not too small, as researchers noted he grows increasingly anxious and panicked in small enclosed spaces. All that time spent in a glass case gave him claustrophobia. Or maybe it was being stuck in a mask for centuries.

Its not much of a living arrangement but its better than said glass case in a concrete room. First thing he does is sleep on the bed. Passes out the moment he lays down. Probably slept a full 24 hours before waking up again. Which concerned everyone overseeing this strange new form he's taken.

New procedures would most likely include the following:

035 having admitted to still having his manipulative insight and ability (described as "being able to sense a person's deepest regret, or darkest memory, or repressed fear-- knowing exactly what nerve to hit, and how to strike it to break them.") , and though he has so sworn to not use it (unless necessary), foundation staff are to keep a distance when interviewing him, preferably not in the same room as him, as his abilities reach is limited.

When experiencing high distress or emotional upset (which produces the black secretions from his eyes and sometimes nose or and mouth), it seems an invisible radius around him manifests (varying in size depending on his distress level) causing all living organisms within it to experience the same distress. This would explain why, after discovering 035's new form in his old containment cell, anyone that attempted to get near him was suddenly incapacitated. It wasn't until he calmed down that they were then able to move again.

The black secretions also cause heavy distress when living organisms come into contact with it, staff is advised to avoid it. At least it's not corrosive anymore.

Casual interactions between 035 and staff and other SCPs must be kept "calm". Under no circumstances should anyone attempt to purposely upset/anger 035.

Crosstests between 035 and other hazardous or upsetting scps will be Automatically denied. Crosstests invovling his ability to "look into the minds of other scps "for research."" will be heavily scrutinized but Considered.

While 035 is allowed to roam foundation grounds (low level areas only) for his overall health (mental, emotional, physical), he must be accompanied by at least 2 guards.

035 has been granted use of a few journals. One seemingly used to transcribe his older memories, another for journal keeping of recent events, and another for artistic prose or poetry.

Despite his previous reputation for falsifying historically events, foundation staff are warned against doubting his "real" history in 035's presence.

A psychological evaluation at the end of every month (it used to be end of every week, then lengthen due to stability), and or after an emotional outburst.

Eventually, I imagine he's granted an interaction with 049 (albeit separated by a window of course.) Researchers want to see if he can find some past memory that would explain the pestilence in anyway. Or anything that would explain 049's origin. He agreed to do so, however, 035 only uses the opportunity to solemnly apologize for the years of trouble he's caused the doctor.

Its also improbable, but a small interaction that I think could be nice is 035 and 073 just making small talk about farming. Just a moment away from everything that's happened to them and what they've done and where they are. In a single moment, they're just two farmers, reminiscing about past work.

#neither can return to that simple life. one cant touch plant matter without killing it. the other has the weight of saving his home to bear #and a time limit in which to do it in #headcanon #scp 035 #scp foundation #scp #ask #greenghostlyjekyll #scp wakey wakey

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livlepretre · 9 months

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I’m re-reading FE because I was really in a mood for this type of story by the way loved the update on chapter 62 can’t wait for the next one but I’m on chapter 39 right when Micheal explodes threw the front door of the abattoir and it’s right after the whole Hayley sacrifice and for the life of me I can’t remember if it’s mentioned after this because it’s bin so long

Is it mentioned about her resurrection or involvement with Klaus during the 3 year stint or do you plan on bringing her back possibly the make things a lil more complicated not the pregnancy part just the whole that maybe she got to be used by Klaus to make elena jelous or take out his frustration possibly by staying involved with Hayley to make himself feel better about her betrayal just curious knowing she would have hated it if she had found out

Also on another note I know you’ve mentioned before about not really using Kol to much in this story because your not used to writing with him as a character in general but you’ve bin mentioning him through the later chapters I was also curious if you planned on having him make an appearance possibly to help Elena albeit most likely not intentionally but to perhaps answer some of her questions of his journals and maybe cause a little miss tiff between them before he went to New Orleans Kol was the darker of them all all anger and misunderstanding just a thought in my head as I’m reading along sorry I rambled on but that’s what your writing does to me and most likely everyone lamellar is open up the possibilities of our deepest regrets of not getting to experience the full potential of these glorious characters on the actual show have a goon night hope all is well with you and your little one

"re-reading FE" jfaldjflakfjweoijhrasoihdfak THANK YOU

Literally Hayley has not come up in Elena's narrative thoughts since she participated in the sacrifice. I suppose it's fair to say, since Elena was taken out of the fray by Tyler and she has never thought to ask about Hayley's fate, that we actually don't know. Perhaps she rose a hybrid and perhaps she was destroyed by a witch's fireball during the battle before she awakened.

As for your question... I would say that while Klaus did like her on a personal level, his involvement with her was purely manipulative (of Hayley, but also of Elena). He doesn't even view what he was doing with Hayley as cheating on Elena the way he viewed her affair with Tyler as cheating, because in his mind, seducing her was just a means to an end. He wasn't going to offer her the turn because basically he is careless with the lives of those around him, and it didn't matter to him whether she lived or died. It just. didn't. matter. He only bothered to offer her the chance to survive because Elena interceded. Now, did he continue an affair with her during the 3 years? Personally, I don't think he did during the 3 years, because he had no intention of ever seeing Elena again, and Hayley herself would not bring him any solace. He would only use Hayley that way if it meant he could flaunt it in Elena's face. Instead, left to his own private devices, he returned to the comforting yet unsatisfying affair with Stefan and Rebekah.

That doesn't mean that Hayley might not come back into the story if she survived the battle in the Abattoir.

huh that's awkward if I said I didn't plan to include Kol (which: I might have. I have said so many things at this point), because he is definitely showing up in the next chapter, and I have definitely had that planned since around 2019 😂😂😂 (Did not understand it would take me this long to get here though) It was around that time that I realized that the fic had become an epic, of sorts, and that therefore I couldn't leave any stones unturned; Elijah would have to appear at the least, and as I worked on this plotline, I realized Kol did too, and Finn (but can you imagine if I had Finn get a special 2 chapter cameo and Kol just never showed up? if he had too much common sense to get involved at all?)

anyway, yes, Kol has a role in this fic. It's not a starring role, at this late turn, but it is a role.

#fairytale ending #anonymous

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freddieslater · 2 years

Text

Rowing the Rarepair Rowboat: Scirisaac | Isaac Lahey x Scott McCall x Kira Yukimura (Teen Wolf)

Requested by @a-lil-bi-furious

Someone's walking towards them. Kira's aware that she shouldn't be staring because they might think it's rude, and that's not really the best first impression. But she also can't stop staring.

For a heart-skipping moment, she considers the possibility that they're not actually friendly and are, in fact, about to attack. Then she reminds herself that they're right in the open surrounded by at least twenty other students who all chose to eat lunch/study outside just like them.

"Uh, do you know them?" she quietly asks, leaning into Scott on her right. After all, he seems to be the centre of the stranger's attention, his eyes focused intently on him with a growing anxiety.

Scott lifts his head from the paper he was intensely scrutinizing for errors before their next class; he's desperate to pull his grades back up for Senior Year, it's all he's talked about all summer. She's been doing her best to help out with weekend study sessions at their houses, but they usually turn into impromptu movie/cuddle nights, which is a little bit unhelpful, they've both realized.

To her surprise, Scott instantly disregards the paper, his full attention on the stranger. Or, not stranger, she guesses. Not according to the look on Scott's face as the two of them look at each other.

"Yeah," Scott breathes softly, like he can't believe this isn't something pulled from the depths of his deepest dreams. "Isaac. Remember, I told you about him? He's part of the pack."

"That's good to hear," Isaac says, finally reaching them. There's the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth, hands burrowing deeper into his pockets.

While clearly tall, the insecure hunch in his shoulders provides the image of a much smaller, perhaps lost child. Not quite the picture Kira built up of him in her mind from all of Scott's recounting. But little things jump out at her right away; the way his eyes reflect the rays of the sun with their golden flecks.

She had secretly felt envious when Scott said something along those lines, but she can't find it anywhere inside of her now, looking at him. Only understanding for why Scott's voice always held a sort of soft fondness to it whenever his name was mentioned in conversation.

Isaac shrugs, saying, "I had thought maybe moving halfway across the world sorta meant I wasn't part of it anymore."

Scott shakes his head. "It doesn't matter where you are, you will always be part of the pack. You should know that."

Then he's up off the bench and hugging him fiercely. Kira can't see Scott's face, pressed into Isaac's shoulder (nearly his chest), but she can imagine it's similar to the one of deep relief that is on Isaac's as he hugs him back.

While her stomach gives the tiniest of flip-flops at the sight of them embracing like long-ago parted lovers, she isn't jealous. More curious.

When Scott pulls back, he immediately turns to her and introduces them happily. "Isaac, this is Kira. My girlfriend."

She smiles up at him and sticks out her hand, then instantly regrets it, internally cringing at herself. To her further surprise, Isaac takes the offer and shakes her hand. His lips twitch up into a cute, lopsided little smile of amusement.

"Scott's told me so much about you!" Kira gushes. "I was hoping I would get to meet you at some point, but I'm not too keen on travelling -- I've done it a lot in my life already, and it would be nice to stay in one place for a few years, at least, so going to France was out of the question. And no one was really sure if you were actually still in France or not."

For a second, she worries she's scaring him off of her already, realizing they're still shaking hands. Well, they're not really shaking anymore, more just... holding hands. Which is worse.

Flushing furiously, she quickly retracts her own, glancing helplessly at Scott only to find him grinning down at her with that same soft fondness.

"Sit with us," Scott invites him, motioning across the table as he reclaims his spot on the bench beside Kira. "I'd love to catch up. Are you back for good?"

There's a hopefulness to the question and it doesn't seem to be lost on anyone. Isaac takes a deep breath, checks with Kira that she's okay with him joining them, to which she nods maybe a little too much, and slides onto the bench across from them.

"That's the plan," he confirms, fingers clasping on the table. He looks so poised, so put-together; Kira watches his eyes dart down to the table. "I can't believe I'm saying it, but I actually kind of want to graduate. I have a lot of catching up to do, obviously."

"We can help!" Kira jumps in, not even taking a single second to consult with even one of her better instincts. Impulse wins out every time.

Still, she may as well double down on it now. Looking to Scott, she says, "We're pretty much always studying these days anyways, right? We'd be more than happy to do it with you. Study. Study with you."

The heat of embarrassment under her skin is not getting better. It's a miracle that Scott and Isaac don't draw attention to it, not beyond another twitching smile from Isaac.

His eyes dart to Scott as he says, "That would be great. I would really appreciate that, if you really don't mind me, like, being a third wheel."

"I promise, you are not a third wheel," Scott says, then with a chuckle, adds, "You'll probably be helping us, to be honest."

"Yeah, you know what they say," Isaac says. "Three's better than one."

#teen wolf #scirisaac #scott x kira x isaac #scott mccall #isaac lahey #kira yukimura #rowing the rarepair rowboat #ask away earthlings!#rarepair rowboat #a-lil-bi-furious #three soft babies who deserve all of the love in the world? yes I am HERE for it #I love the idea of isaac coming back to beacon hills for senior year (maybe instead of theo...) and also kira having never actually left #ro ❤️

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sohmiya · 8 months

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I've been listening to Counting Losses by Chelan, Best & Mess It Up by Gracie Abrams (<- which are probably songs that fit them quite well...not a great thought because I'll start creating a Spotify playlist about Max and Ev) & had this hc in my head for like over an hour, so I had to swoop in and send you Maxine x Evren angst...which is terrible because I'm the biggest supporter of their 'could be perfect' relationship. Like if their ship ever left the docks and sailed, I'd be the fucking captain of that ship.

I am sooo sorry that this is so long asdfkghjkl.

SOo they weren't supposed to get as involved with each other as they did, right? but now they're in the situation and I imagine Ev thinking about it one morning and saying "you said we should stop...but you came here last night" and Max is all "and you came to my place last week. But I was right, we do need to stop. This is much more messier than it was supposed to be."

And Ev would pause and go, "because of our lives or because of the media's involvement?" "both" and he'd roll his eyes and ask "and you really think any of this would've been easier with someone else?" and Max would sarcastically laugh and say, "frankly, yes. it probably would've been" and Evren would be all, "oh, because the media have been so respectful of our lives in the past, right?" — which is low key an indirect to what the press write about him, but also a shot towards Max's public break up with her ex...and he instantly regrets saying it, but he's caught feelings and all in love and he's saying stupid shit and he can tell he's losing her.

And I see them having a mini argument about it all, which turns into a full blown argument, which turns into them not talking for days...and then not talking for a month. And I see Ev being super upset about it, and him debating whether to contact her and just apologise but he's also under the impression that she definitely doesn't want anything to do with him...so leave it be.

annndd thenn, cause Heartless was so successful their labels are like 'collab again and release another song together' which would genuinely make Evren choke and go, "we don't...have to do that." and his label's all "well, we're not asking, we're telling—the fans loved your last song. Give them what they want."

Then Maxine and Evren are back in the studio together, the exact same one they created Heartless in and ate takeout in and became friends in...so it's super weird and starts off with small talk like "how are things going with you?" "good, you?" "yeah, good" and it's disgustinggg and awkward because a month ago they would've had the deepest conversations and now they can barely be in the same room together.

Eventually Ev would ramble and choke out, "I'm sorry, about what I said a month ago" and Max would nod and say "same..." but it's still super awkward and the tension is there, but they have a job to do and she asks "so how's all of this going to work?" and Evren thinks for a moment and says "honestly?" "honestly" and he goes "we don't kiss, I don't touch you, we don't reminisce the times we spent together, and I think about you in a way that's strictly platonic. then we'll get through this fine"—but he's sort of already failing because he remembers so much about Max: the stuff she likes and dislikes, the way she laughs, her songwriting process, and even debated ordering a charcuterie board for her but decided against it because this can't be anything more than it is.

And Max would go, "you have it all sorted out" "a month gives you time to think about things. probably enough time to grow that god complex of yours" he'd joke, and she'd laugh and say, "it's not like it can grow anymore, you know that already" which is nice because at least they can still joke around with each other and it sort of eases their tension a little until Max asks "and what happens after all of this?"

And Ev's like "we write this song and release it. I let you go, I fall out of love with you, and we get on with our lives" "and you find someone else" and Evren would pause and go "what you and I had it... it was about more than just the sex. it was different from anything with anyone else. you're special Maxie, you don't need me to tell you that. you don't need anyone, least of all a relationship."

But in Evren's head he's begging that she grabs his face and kisses him and says "fine. i'll do it. i'll give us a go, Acevedo. properly. i'll fall in love with you and let you catch me"—but she doesn't so he stops thinking it, clears his throat and goes "besides, we'll write a good song together and individually I'm sure we'll write some great songs about each other, so I guess we can't complain too much."

And like, imagine Evren performing on stage and thousands of fans are literally chanting for him to sing the songs that he wrote with and wrote about Maxine (them not realising they're about her), and Evren's on stage thinking 'fuck...now I have to think about her', but you've gotta give your fans what they want so he performs each one like he's having the best time of his life.

ANYWAY! I"m going to cry in a corner—

me getting excited over an ask from you until i read what it was about:

"you said we should stop...but you came here last night"

"and you came to my place last week.”

the way i knew i was gonna be fucked up as soon as these lines were uttered 💔💔💔💔

"and you really think any of this would've been easier with someone else?"

evren please……… i don’t wanna fight……. this line alone made ME feel bad wtf :(((((

no cause when they start arguing they’re both at the height of their emotions and start raising their voices at each other like “evren we’ve been over this” “why can’t we just give it a try?” “you KNOW why. it’s not gonna work” “you don’t know that” “yes i do” then i imagine evren ultimately saying something like “no you don’t. you always pin it on the media but the truth is you’re just scared” and UGHHHH it would make max so mad because deep down she knows it’s true but she doesn’t wanna admit it so she just says “just go”

he's also under the impression that she definitely doesn't want anything to do with him

little does he know maxine misses him….. 🚶🏻‍♀️

“well, we're not asking, we're telling”

the best thing his label can do is die 🥰 UGH I HATE THEM GIVE MY BABY SOME SPACE

"so how's all of this going to work?"

"honestly?"

"honestly"

"we don't kiss, I don't touch you, we don't reminisce the times we spent together, and I think about you in a way that's strictly platonic. then we'll get through this fine"

i literally want to cry………… i am so fucking devastated

and evren even planning to buy her a charcuterie board……

"we write this song and release it. I let you go, I fall out of love with you, and we get on with our lives"

"and you find someone else"

ngl this lowkey made me feel bad for making miko 😭😭😭

my deepest sigh ever…… the awkward banters when they work together again was so heartbreaking but so satisfying for the angst lover in me JRNDJEKSJ

and also at second coming’s show, maxine has a little chat with the crowd like “have you guys ever felt like you’ve found your person but met them at the wrong time?” and the crowd starts to scream and maxine just laughs but you know it’s hollow and she just goes “yeah same. but thank god we got some bangers out of it” and that’s her lightheartedly hinting at new songs on the setlist and they’re all songs that maxine wrote about evren after the “breakup” and there are times during the show where she looks at her bandmates for some comfort as soon as she starts feeling emotional again :(

but i think after some time when evren and maxine have gotten over it they’d start teasing each other again like “evren you are so fuckimg sappy” “you literally called me your person” “shut the fuck up” and ugndhsgHSHSJAJ IM GONNA CRY mila please tell evren i’m sorry and that i’m just as heartbroken as he is <////3

#i am inconsolable #au: somewhere this works #their tag…… 🕳️🚶🏻‍♀️#mila ✨#nikka answers

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nightwingshero · 1 year

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Whitney for the OC asks!

Thank you, lovely!

01. Full name: Whitney Angelica Young Seed. 02. Best friend: Rowan Palmer...formerly. They grew up together and used to be best friends. They were close up until it was revealed that Whitney was actually married to Joseph and was the Mother of Eden's Gate. After that...she really doesn't have one. I guess John is the only sibling she truly got along with, and then once Wren's married to John...I guess there is some sort of friendship that her and Wren develop. Its complicated. 03. Sexuality: Closeted bisexual 04. Favorite color: Gold or pale pink 05. Relationship status: Married to Joseph Seed 06. Ideal mate: A caring significant other that puts her first and will sweep her off her feet. Secretly digs the strong male vibe like from those romance novel covers. 07. Turn-ons: Power or someone in charge...or her being in charge...or her being dominated and told what to do...there's a lot to unpack there...also the whole "doing something we're not supposed to"....also a lot to unpack there...also someone that can honestly sweet talk her. 08. Favorite food: Apple pie 09. Crushes: Lowkey might have a thing for Sharky or Pratt, but will go to the deepest fiery pits of Hell before ever admitting it. But she's mostly devoted to Joseph. 10. Favorite music: Country or gospel. Classical as well...can't imagine her reaction when she is forced to listen to Wren or Jane's music... 11. Biggest fear: I think for Whitney, her biggest fear is to pretty much...be insignificant, in a way. I think she clings so hard to what Nancy wants her to be and what Joseph wants her to be, that she has this ongoing fear of being replaced and not being good enough, which is another reason her and Wren are so alike and yet so different. I think also that there is a fear deep down that all she will be good for is a trophy. Its part of why she dislikes Faith so much--Faith is a Herald...and Whitney isn't. She wants to be something more, she wants to have control and power, and she is afraid that she will be powerless and...not amount to anything her whole life. 12. Biggest fantasy: For Joseph to have her by his side as equals and have him solely devoted to her. To have a more normal, white picket fence marriage without having to constantly live their lives devoted to the Project. But she would never admit that. 13. Bad habits: I would say poisoning people would be a good one. Let's put that at the top of the list. I don't see her as someone that would do things like bite her nails (they're perfectly manicured) or anything. Maybe she over does it with the cooking when she's letting her emotions get in the way. Its kinda wasteful and there have been moments where some have wondered if Gluttony would be her sin...it is not. 14. Biggest regret: I think her biggest regret is constantly living her life the way Nancy wanted her to. And yes, that does include marrying Joseph. Like, don't get me wrong, they have their own twisted somewhat sweet at times type of love that just...I don't know, I guess it works for them until it doesn't. But I think Whitney feels like she should have taken her chance at freedom when she had it while going to college in Helena. She wants to be something more than a trophy religious cult wife. 15. Best kept secrets: the fact that she was the Mother of Eden's Gate the entire time of the Reaping and before that, and none of the resistance, including Wren and Rowan, had a fucking clue. Wanna know why the Seeds always seemed to find her so easily after doing shit? A lot of the time, it was because Whitney would tip them off. When shit got too dicey in the Henbane though, Joseph called her back to his Compound...but when that shit came out...not good. Another one would be all the people she's killed with just poisoning them. And nobody knows about it. 16. Last thought: "What should I wear to the next sermon? Is white too similar to Faith? Bless her heart Oh shoot, I wonder if my casserole is done, I need to check on that..." 17. Worst romantic experience: 18. Biggest insecurity: 19. Weapon of choice: 20. Role Model:

#oc: whitney seed #far cry 5 #my ocs #asks #i love her #had to think for a moment because its been so long #but damn #shes so awesome and i forgot #queen shit

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exalted-dawn-drabbles · 2 years

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ED ED ED WELCOMEEEEEEE💖💖💖 for this lovely dadwc friday, some Talenna x Calder + "I always knew you'd break my heart, I just never imagined it'd be this way."

Thank you for the PAIN @a-song-in-the-stillness and @dadrunkwriting for organizing! Enjoy hours of my suffering LOL

Never Like This | Exalted_Dawn

“...What…?” he croaked.

Calder’s mouth had gone dry. The room, unnaturally still. Quiet.

He could almost convince himself he was imagining the scene before him. A dark room, illuminated only by the sliver of moonlight at his back. And Talenna standing over a half-packed bag.

“...I’m leaving,” she repeated again, her voice barren and flat. Emotionless. She continued to pack.

He was helpless to stand there, lingering in the doorway– hoping that if he stared long enough, he could dispel the nightmare unfolding before him. The sinking dusk would pass like an episode of delirium, or the echo of lyrium withdrawal, and she’d be there– curled by the fire with a different book than the one from the night before, her gaze downcast and the barest hint of a smile gracing her lips.

But the longer he stood, the taller the shadows seemed to stretch. The thicker the darkness grew. He swallowed, the bitter cold cutting like glass. She hated the cold.

Something was wrong, but for the life of him, Calder couldn’t figure out what. Just hours earlier, Talenna had sent him out to restock their food stores. She had kissed him goodbye with a pleased hum and a laugh; his name gently cradled in the lilt of her Dalish timbre as she wished him safe travels. Everything had seemed perfect, then. So, why?

“...Talenna? What...What do you mean ‘you’re leaving’? Where-?” he tried, forcing the words to his mouth. His whole body trembled, dread– like creeping death– stealing the warmth from his blood. Everything in his body was ringing with a terrible sense of wrongness. “...Did something happen? Talenna, if… if you’re in trouble, we can-”

“No.” Talenna dropped the last item into her bag– a plain, wooden comb– and tied it shut. “I’m leaving. Alone.”

She turned to look at him then, finally, but when he met her eyes it was as if he felt something in him break. There was nothing. No grief, or regret. No signs of some ill-begotten joke. No warmth. No love. Nothing.

“...Tal?”

She walked towards him, crossing the room without making a sound. Shrouded in darkness and cut by moonlight, it was like looking at a specter of his love. This wasn’t Talenna. This was a shade. Or a cruel immotation, crafted by a Fear demon to torment him.

This wasn’t her. This couldn’t be her.

She stopped just before him, her gaze not quite meeting his. His hands twitched with the urge to reach for her, but that very same need was what stayed him from pulling her fast into his arms. Because he knew, as he stared down at her, that he was more scared of finding her to be real than he could be of any Terror or illusion.

So they both stood, unmoving, beneath the light of the moon– the sound of bated breath the only thing to fill the silence. Several long moments passed like this; with Calder waiting for her to say something or explain or anything, and she with her jaw clamped tightly shut, doing exactly the opposite. The tension was near palpable. It was as if a thick piece of clouded glass stood between them, waiting to be shattered.

And then it struck him. Waiting. She was waiting.

Because he was blocking the door.

Calder’s heart sank, and in some morbid form of curiosity, he backed out of the doorway just to see if his suspicions were true.

She stepped through the threshold and followed him out.

The two lingered in each other’s space for a while longer, avoiding the unspoken ‘goodbye’. Now in the full light of the moon, Calder could see she was dressed in her road clothes– equipped with her leathers, throwing knives, and a staff he didn’t recognize. But even so, that wasn’t what caught his attention.

There, in the lines of her face and the deepest creases of her eyes, was something. Sorrow.

“… I am going back to my clan,” she said at last, her voice softer than the wind’s sigh against her cheek. Already, the night’s cold had drawn some color back to her cheeks, returning to him a bit of the woman he most loved. He wished desperately to chase her blush with the palm of his hand, knowing that if he did, she would lean into it to savor his warmth. But still, he did not. He couldn’t. And so she continued. “They have assured me I will be well taken care of. You… don’t need to worry.”

A million questions flashed through his mind– Why now? Why hadn’t she told him? Why couldn’t he come with her?

Just… why?

But rather than ask, old whispers stirred in the back of his mind– rising like shambling barrowmen in the form of his fears.

You were never good enough.

You didn’t deserve her.

She couldn’t love you.

Things he’d told himself long ago that he’d shoved aside and buried deep. Things he’d sworn away in order to make room for her. But… she was leaving, and where she had been was now a vacuous void waiting to be filled. A vicious bout of self-loathing rushed up to claim it.

If she wanted to leave, who was he to stop her? She deserved the world. More than him. He had known for years that he was clinging onto borrowed time. That it would only be a matter of ‘when’ until she came to her senses and realized that he couldn’t possibly give her the life she wanted.

And it seemed ‘when’ was tonight.

He swallowed, and finding his mouth cracked and dry, swallowed again. The sack of groceries weighed heavy in his hand– enough for two people– but he clung to it in wild desperation. He should have known. He should have known. “...I see. I suppose this is goodbye then?”

There was a beat of purposeful silence.

“...The Dalish were never meant for walls,” she offered as explanation, her voice still an even whisper.

So that was it then.

He nodded and stepped fully aside, turning back towards their room– his room– to let her leave in peace. But before he even made it two steps, a hand on his arm stopped him. Her palm, splendidly warm against the night, lay almost hesitant upon his skin, but even that slight touch was enough to command his body to a lurching halt.

“Calder,” she started, meeting his gaze fully for the first time since he’d returned home. Her eyes were a thin ring of pale gold, almost entirely obscured by the black of her pupil. But even so, they did not waver. Talenna stepped into him, rising on her toes like the tide until a single, heart-shattering kiss brushed across his cheek. She sighed, her nose pressing lightly to his skin. “...Thank you. For everything. Ar lath ma.”

And then she was gone.

She swung back and away from him, stepping out of his arms and turning to face the set of stone stairs that would take her from him forever in a single, graceful movement. And that easily, she had shattered his heart.

He watched her leave, memorizing the curve of her shoulder and the way her hair caught the light. Devoting everything of her to memory because, deep down, he knew he would never see her again. And even long after she’d gone, he stayed, memorizing. The sky. The wind. The stars.

The feeling of her lips against him.

The sound of his name from her mouth.

Talenna.

Calder hefted his bag, stepped inside his too-large room, and closed the door.

___

Talenna collapsed against the cold floors of the rookery; great, heaving sobs wracking her body as she curled into herself and wept. She cried freely, unable to even attempt to hold her silence a moment longer.

She’d done it. She’d done it.

Her eyes and ears burned hot with sorrow’s fever; her body finally feeling like it’d reached its farthest limits. Her heart yearned for nothing more than to go back to him. To chase her comfort in his arms and beg for forgiveness, and yet she hadn’t even let herself look back as she left him stranded. How could she, when she knew that doing so would have utterly smashed her resolve?

She bit back another sob, and hugged herself tighter; fighting to reign in her self-control. She didn’t deserve to mourn him. Not when she’d been the one to walk away. Not when she had crushed both their hearts and told herself all the while that it had been a mercy.

“...So it is done then?”

Leliana’s voice echoed throughout the chamber, somber but not sorry.

Talenna swallowed a few more shaky breaths and pushed herself up until she was leaning against the curved, greystone wall.

The Spymaster was watching her from across her desk with a tender type of sadness; her head cocked and brows gracefully furrowed. At that moment, Talenna hated her for it. To offer Talenna pity, when she was the one responsible… it sickened her.

Talenna couldn’t find it in herself to muster an answer, so she simply nodded and looked away.

“Good,” Leliana nodded, closing the book she’d been writing in with a quiet finality. “Means of transportation for you has been procured, and by the time you reach Lake Calenhad, the final arrangements will have been settled. One of my agents will meet you at the Crossroads to further brief you on the situation.”

She nodded again, numb.

“And Talenna…?” Leliana rounded the desk until the two women stood face to face. She reached out and pressed something smooth and rigid into Talenna’s palm. A communication crystal. “The Inquisitor and I are aware that what you did tonight could not have been easy. And we thank you for your sacrifice. This is… for the greater good. Because of you, the ones you love and many more might live to see their futures out in safety. Our thanks can never be overstated.”

The words rang hollow in her ear– the echos of what she’d been telling herself over and over ever since she’d first agreed to Leliana’s proposal hours ago.

This was for them.

For him.

And not even the Dread Wolf would stop her from seeing them safe.

Talenna nodded a third and final time. “I know. After all, it takes a wolf to catch a wolf. And I am ready. Hahren Solas must be stopped.”

Even if it took killing her heart to do it.

#dadwc #dragon age fanfiction #dont mind me #just destroying my OC's life again #welcome to my Agent of Fen’Harel AU 🥲

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casspurrjoybell-22 · 28 days

Text

The Art of Sin - Chapter 11 - Part 2

•Noir Laurent (Dark Elf & Sun Elf)

*Warning Adult Content*

'I didn't really know why I was doing this.'

It was childish of me.

Everyone would realize just how emotionally incompetent I am, understanding exactly how helpless, how unworthy I am of their affection, I am.

I'm undeserving of being in their very presence.

It was just a matter of time before they realized it.

I want to prolong it.

It physically hurt me to imagine them regretting bringing me here, wishing that I would go away.

I clutched at my chest, curling inward as I stifled my cries.

In the back of my mind, I knew that I was over thinking things, there was no way they would cast me aside but I kept analyzing my life, getting dumped with person after person, always an outsider looking in.

I was damaged, oh so damaged.

The others didn't deserve my baggage.

Maybe it would be better if I did just disappear.

A commotion stopped my thoughts.

I peered down, making sure not to cross the barrier.

Below, I saw Bain talking to Tate and Keon.

"What do you mean Winter is missing?"

"I mean just that. We can't find him."

"And why is that?" Keon crossed his arms, giving Bain a stern look.

"What happened?"

Bain shuffled from foot to foot, looking guilty.

"Noir was upset and well, Winter tried to calm him down with a little magic but it kinda backfired. Noir blew up and started screaming at him and Winter started to cry. I-I should have stepped in. Then he just disappeared."

Tate was listening acutely, nodding once before speaking.

"He most likely cast an invisibility glamour. You probably walked right past him."

They stood there in silence until it was broken by the small, hoarse voice of Noir.

"Do you think he'll come back?"

A few tears leaked down his cheeks.

"It's all my fault."

"Shh, it's okay Noir. Don't cry."

"He hasn't left."

Everyone turned to Tate, including myself.

He shifted a bit before speaking.

"Er, well, he's still on the property. I can't tell exactly where. I think he's cloaking himself but I can tell he hasn't left."

I sat down, surprised.

Only a high-level creature, full of magic, could get even that.

No one in this manor ceased to surprise me.

Noir smiled, for the first time in days, he actually smiled.

His cheeks were still wet and his eyes puffy but it didn't take away the joy and relief shining through.

"Thank the Goddess. I don't know what I would've done if," his expression darkened suddenly.

"I wish Nikoli was here. He's good at handling everyone."

Bain laughed.

"Yeah, he's pretty much the only one. I don't even know how he puts up with us."

And just like that the mood lifted.

Jokes we told and boys were teased.

Even with the good feelings, I was still afraid.

How easily people's moods shifted.

How long will it take for their opinions of me to turn dark?

It was always there, the constant pestering of my deepest, darkest fears.

The fear of, after settling down, having to be forced to rip myself out of their lives and move onto the next experience hell has to offer, for that was where I must be.

What God or Goddess, if there is one or many, would make life so painful?

I watched as they left the room, smiles on their face.

My fears were still there but I couldn't help but feel happy.

I knew that, even if I would pay a hefty price, I would still wish for their happiness.

I knew little of what they went through but it was enough to know that they were similar to me.

They deserved to have days full of joy and laughter and I wanted to be part of giving them it.

I suddenly regretted my actions, ashamed at letting my emotions take hold of me.

I had caused pain to them.

'Unintentional, yes but pain nonetheless,' I thought, nodding and hunkering down until I was in a somewhat comfortable position on my perch.

When Lord Nikoli returns I would step forth and come clean.

Whatever punishment he would give me for the trouble I've caused will be accepted.

Until then, I would keep to myself and try not to make the situation worse.

They were finally happy or as happy as they could be.

There was no need to let my presence ruin things.

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