#keeping a secret ch15 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lastbluetardis · 2 years ago

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Sacred New Beginnings (18/?)

Summary: James Noble thought he traded away his chance at love and a happy-ever-after when he signed a contract with a record label that turned him into an international celebrity. But a chance meeting in a dive bar may prove him wrong.

Ten x Rose AU

This Chapter: Teen, ~4900 words

AO3 || Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14 | Ch15 | Ch16 | Ch17 |

It was no hyperbole for James to say that the next six weeks were some of the best of his life. He worked hard to stay in the present, to file the memories he was making with Rose into his brain to be pulled out again at a later date when things got bad (because inevitably things always got bad, didn’t they?) He cataloged every laugh, every smile, every touch, basking in the high of new love.

His relationship with Rose had become the most important thing in his life, and he would protect it fiercely with every bone in his body. The media had caught on to that fact; as a result, more and more articles were coming out, wondering where he was and what he was doing. They ranged from wild speculations that he had been pulled into nefarious schemes, to softer and sweeter (and more accurate) speculations that he was love-sick. The paps still called her his mysterious blonde, which had become a running joke between them, with Rose calling him her mysterious beau.

His fans had also noticed his public absence. In the past, he could often be found wandering London and sampling its pleasures with whomever he happened to be dating at the time. But with his desire to keep Rose away from the cameras, they were sneaking around or hanging out in each others’ homes far away from any hope of discovery. His fans were discussing among themselves about whether he was working on a super secret project, or if he was ill, or if he’d stepped away from music altogether.

While he yearned to soothe their worries, he didn’t want to jeopardize this pseudo-peace he had found with Rose. They obviously couldn’t keep going as they were forever—he would want to take Rose all across the globe with him whenever her schedule allowed for it. He wanted to show her all the places she’d never been to but wanted to go. He wanted her to watch him on tour, wanted to see her face in the crowd beside the family and friends he’d invited to his show. He wanted to bring her along as his plus-one to the formal events and galas he was regularly invited to.

But not yet. Baby steps. He knew they first needed to continue building and strengthening the foundations of their relationship, and unlike all of his previous failed attempts at love, he wanted these first few months to be just theirs and no one else’s.

As November drew to a close, he slowly began to integrate Rose into his private life by introducing her to the people he trusted to keep the secret. His mates were thrilled that he seemed to have found “a good one” (their words), and he couldn’t bring himself to do anything more than grin like an idiot. Rose really was a good one—the best one.

“She’s good for you, mate,” Ian told him when his friends began to depart from his birthday dinner. “You act more yourself around her.”

“What do you mean, I always act myself,” he protested, frowning.

Barbara, Ian’s fiancée, patted his cheek softly while she kissed his other cheek. “You think you do. But remember, we’ve known you since puberty.”

He grimaced and shooed his two oldest friends out of his house so he could celebrate the remainder of his birthday alone with Rose.

His record label seemed surprised but overall indifferent to Rose. James didn’t know what he expected, really; they’d always made it clear that his personal life was his own to do with as he wished, but the moment he started looking bad for the label, they would put him on a short leash.

Nevertheless, it was a relief for them to be privy to the knowledge that he wanted Rose to remain a secret from the public for as long as possible. They also didn’t mind that his productivity had slowed down. Since the bulk of the work for his next album was complete, it wouldn’t take too much longer to get it produced, polished, and published.

Rose didn’t yet want to introduce him to any of her friends, and he wavered between hurt and guilt, wondering in equal measure if Rose was embarrassed to be dating him or wishing she could have a normal boyfriend she could show off to her mates.

But at the same time, he understood. With too many people in the know, it would be far too easy for word to leak about their relationship, and before they knew it, paparazzi would be battering down their doors to interrogate them. His friends had years of practice (and several awkward or painful missteps along the way) with keeping aspects of his life a secret, while hers didn’t. He would let Rose decide the pace with which they broadcast their relationship to others.

It was like he was living in a dream, and while he existed in a state of euphoria for most of the day, there were times when a lingering doom would settle over him as he wondered when their bubble of joy would pop. It was as though a great storm was approaching, but he couldn’t predict when or where or how it would happen.

He always knew he and Rose were teetering on the edge of discovery. One moment of being in the wrong place at the wrong time beside someone with a camera, and the game was up. One person would be all it took to have his paradise come crashing down around him.

But James never expected that person to come in the form of Jacqueline Tyler.

oOoOo

It has been nine days, eleven hours, and twenty-eight minutes since he last saw Rose, (not that he’s counting), when they snuck into the back of a darkened cinema to watch the Catalysis film together. The theater had been mostly empty, thanks to it being noon on a weekday and the film having been out for a month and a half. Rose’s school was closed for the day due to a water main break that left several city blocks without running water.

When she’d texted him that morning telling him the news, he couldn’t help but want to spend the entire day with her because he would be off that night traveling to a few cities across Asia for more film promotion and some early holiday concerts, mostly to raise money for charities. Everyone was more generous in December, and James wasn’t above being used to draw people in to watch him perform for a half hour.

The trip also served to satisfy his fans that he was, in fact, alive and well. The hashtag #WelcomeBackJames was trending on Twitter for half a day when he made his first stop in Tokyo. His social media was flooded with photos of himself either performing on stage, posing for a photoshoot, or taking selfies with fans. For the first time in a long while, he looked healthy. His eyes shone with joy and his skin had a glow to it that he hadn’t realized was missing.

When he took part of a morning to do a photoshoot for a Japanese magazine, his makeup artists barely had to touch his face like they usually did to soften the sharp gauntness of his cheeks or conceal the dark shadows beneath his eyes. After some of the photos had been released, Rose had sent him one where he was clad in nothing but a pair of low-slung jeans that showed off the jut of his hip bones and teased at the happy trail that disappeared beneath the denim. The photo had been heavily edited to make his skin tanner than it was and to highlight abdominal muscles he definitely didn’t have.

Can I get your ab regimen? “How to get abs of steel in 48 hours” from James Noble, she had texted.

He snorted. “Sorry, it’s a trade secret.”

Hmm. I’ll give you a bj for it? 🍆

His stomach swooped teasingly, and he banished the memories of Rose’s mouth on his cock before they could take root.

“Deal. The trick is being a multi-millionaire with a phenomenal make-up team and photographers who know how to use photoshop. BJ when???”

When you come home 💜

Home. It’s funny that when he thought of home, it wasn’t his house that came to mind. It was her—her smile and her laugh, the warmth of her embrace and the passion in her lips and the tenderness of her touch. And as excited as he was to visit east Asia, he was more excited to return to Rose.

Presently, now that he’s home, he aches to see her again. He returned three days ago, but Rose has been recovering from some respiratory illness her plague-riddled students passed on to her. While he respected her wishes for him to stay away for a few more days, he misses her. Their late-night phone calls were just enough to take the edge off, but he longs to see her in person, to hold her in his arms and kiss her deeply and slowly until they’re both starved for breath.

It’s Friday evening, and James is in the recording studio, snacking on a packet of crisps to tide him over until dinner time and plonking away on the piano, trying to put his finger on what is missing from the latest song he’s recording. Every time he tries to focus on what doesn’t sound right, it slips farther and farther away, like trying to catch wisps of mist with his fingertips.

He groans dramatically and gets up from his piano bench to flop even more dramatically onto his sofa. He shoves the remaining few crisps into his mouth and sullenly chews while replaying the melodies over and over in his head, trying to map slight variations on top of each other to fix whatever is dissatisfying him. But it doesn’t work, and he only succeeds in giving himself a minor headache and a bone-deep frustration.

Fuck it. It’s Friday, and he’s going home.

Unless…

He snags his phone from the table and opens his messaging thread with Rose.

“I know you said to wait until this weekend when you’re feeling better. But it’s practically already the weekend, innit? Can I come over for a bit? Or pick you up and we can go to my house?”

James drums his fingers across his thighs while he waits for her answer. Now that he’s got it in his head that he might be seeing Rose within the hour, he’s impatient to get to her.

His phone vibrates in his palm, and her message sinks his spirits.

Sorry, I can’t. I’m babysitting my little brother for the night. Mum and Dad have Friday date night, and their usual sitter came down with the flu. Tomorrow. I promise xo.

James sighs and rubs his fingers into his eyes.

“It’s fine. I understand. Tomorrow first thing? 🥺”

Oh, that’s so pathetic! Yes, first thing tomorrow. Pick me up at 9?

“On the dot,” he confirms.

He rests his phone beside him on the sofa cushion. Now what? Go home to an empty house and cook up whatever his personal assistant planned for him? Or maybe he can see if any of his friends are up for a night out. His week-long excursion to Asia scratched the itch of wanting to socialize, but he wants more. He’s always been extroverted in nature, loving the energy of a crowded pub or some similar venue, and while he would never regret these quieter, calmer weeks with Rose, he misses the former bustle of his social life.

James pulls open the group chat with his local famous friends, but before he can ask if any of them want to meet him at a pub, he gets a new message from Rose.

I mean… I don’t suppose you’d mind a 4-year-old third-wheeling us if you came ‘round?

A grin steals across his face. “Not in the slightest. Though it does put a damper on my plan to ravish you thoroughly and filthily the moment I see you 😏”

Well, what if I told you Tony will be gone by 9pm? 🍆

“I suppose the ravishing could be postponed ‘til then 🐱👅💦” He sends the text, then a thought occurs to him. “Does this mean you want to introduce me to your family?”

The three dots that indicate Rose is typing pulse across his screen for many long seconds before she answers, Yeah, I think I do. At least preliminarily. We can do a longer introduction later.

He beams at his phone screen. “Perfect. Can’t wait. I’ll come by right now. See you soon! 💜”

James hurriedly packs away the instruments and equipment he’d used that day before bolting out of the building and to his car, praising his lucky stars that he’d chosen today of all days to drive himself to the studio. He would have gone half-mad waiting for his driver to trek to him amidst Friday rush hour traffic. As it is, he goes half-mad inching through the rush hour traffic on his way to Rose’s flat.

Finally though, he arrives, and he battles the climb up to the tenth storey. It’s only when he knocks on her door that he belatedly thinks he should have offered to pick up dinner. No time for it now, not as Rose swings open her front door and ushers him inside.

When the door snicks shut behind him and she fastens the lock, he folds her into his arms and simply holds her for several long seconds, tucking his nose into her hair to breathe her in. She embraces him just as tightly, rocking slowly from side to side.

“I missed you,” she murmurs into his neck. There is still a faint, throaty rasp to her voice leftover from her bout of illness, and if he’s being perfectly honest, there is something incredibly sexy about it.

“And I you.”

He pulls back only far enough to cradle her jaw in his palm and angle her face up for a sweet kiss that he works to keep chaste. She melts into him, bracing her hands on his shoulders to kiss him back, matching his pace. Heat unfurls through him, gentle yet delicious. Before his desire can overtake him, he pops their mouths apart to rest his forehead to hers.

She nudges the tip of her nose into his before backing up a step. “C’mon. Tony’s in the kitchen havin’ some hotdogs and cheesy potatoes.”

Rose takes him by the hand and guides him to her kitchen table, where a small blond-haired boy sits perched on several pillows on top of a chair to get him to the proper height to reach the table. He’s watching a cartoon on a tablet, so transfixed that he doesn’t even notice their presence.

“Tony? I’ve got someone for you to meet,” Rose says, releasing James’s hand to step closer to her brother. “Can we pause Peppa for a moment, please?”

“I guess,” the boy says with a dramatic sigh. He reaches out with grubby fingers to pause the video, then pivots in his seat, causing the pillows to shift slightly with his movements. He meets James’s eye and blinks. “Who’re’you?”

“This is James,” Rose says, touching his upper arm as she says his name. “Remember I said he’d be hangin’ out with us tonight. He’s my boyfriend. Can you say hi?”

“Hi,” Tony obliges. “D’you like Peppa?”

James scratches the back of his neck. “Can’t say I’ve ever watched Peppa. What’s it all about?”

Tony lights up and launches into a half-coherent rambling about the show and the characters. James barely follows what the boy is saying, but judging from the interactions he’s had with some of his friends’ kids, it doesn’t really matter.

“Come come come,” Tony says, patting the table beside him. “You can watch Peppa too. Come on!”

Rose flashes him an apologetic smile, but James waves her off and pulls up a chair to sit beside the child.

“This one’s my fav’rite,” Tony says, returning to the tablet and starting the episode.

“They’re all your favorite,” Rose mutters. She steps up behind James and lightly links her arms around his neck, resting her chin atop his head. He leans into her while an anthropomorphic pig appears on the screen.

“Is that Peppa?” he asks.

Tony giggles. “Nooooo, silly, tha’s Chloe!”

“God, I can’t believe you didn’t recognize that’s Chloe,” Rose drawls in his ear.

He reaches back to pinch her bum as he says to Tony, “Oh, right, silly me. Of course I can see that’s Chloe now.”

Tony absently swings his feet and nibbles on a hotdog. “There. Tha’s Peppa.”

Rose continues to hold James in a backwards hug while the three of them watch the brief episode together. When it ends, Rose ruffles Tony’s hair and says, “I’m gonna steal James back, all right? We need to make grown-up food.”

“You don’ wan’ hotdogs?” Tony asks, frowning.

Rose grimaces. “Nah, remember big sissy doesn’t like those.”

Tony simply blinks owlishly at her, as if he couldn’t possibly understand why anyone wouldn’t like hotdogs. James, meanwhile, catalogs that factoid of Rose into his memory bank.

“After dinner, why don’t we all play a game?” Rose suggests.

“Okay,” Tony says brightly, and he returns his attention back to Peppa Pig.

James follows Rose the short distance to the kitchen, where, together, they chop, season, then cook the ingredients for fajitas.

The knife is an extension of his hands as he neatly slices and dices. He hardly realizes Rose is watching him until she asks, “Have you always been this comfortable in a kitchen?”

He glances over at her lumpy attempts at cubed chicken.

“Don’t laugh, but I actually took cooking lessons a couple years ago,” he admits, faint heat crawling up his cheeks.

“Why would I laugh?”

He ignores the jabs his friends made when he told them he was learning to cook.

“Just hire a chef…”

“Just order in…”

“Just find a wife…”

His famous friends didn’t understand why he didn’t hire someone to cook for him, and his non-famous friends didn’t understand why he would want to learn a skill they would all kill not to need to use.

James shrugs. “I like the idea of knowing how to cook. My luck might run out, and this time next year, I’ll be a washed-up has-been who needs to get by like a normal person, which includes knowing how to cook and use ingredients efficiently. And it’s healthier than dining out all the time. I struggled with proper nutrition when I first became famous.”

Rose comes up beside him and, careful of the knife, hugs one of his arms. She plants a kiss to his shoulder.

“Makes sense. You’ll have to teach me one day. But not tonight, I’m starving and in no mood for lessons.”

He snorts and bumps his hip into hers to get her to take a step away so he can reach for the onion that needs chopping.

The flat is soon filled with the sound of sizzling chicken, and it smells absolutely divine. The meat and spice scent reminds him of their date at Cocinara.

“Let’s go out to dinner sometime soon,” he suggests. “I know we’re trying to keep a low profile, but I’d really like to take you out. We can get all dressed up and get wasted on fancy champagne and stuff ourselves on fancy hors d'oeuvres and order fancy meals that come on fancy plates that look too fancy to eat. I know some places. I can book a reservation in a private area where we can go unnoticed.”

“James, you don’t need to convince me,” Rose says gently, resting her hand on his forearm to pause his rapid-fire speech. She then flashes him a cheeky smile. “You had me convinced at the promise of champagne. And dear God, would you please stop saying ‘fancy’?”

“You don’t fancy it?” he quips, giggling as she rolls her eyes and halfheartedly swats his chest.

When their dinner is finished, they each struggle to enfold the sauteed chicken and veggies into a tortilla shell until they give up and shred their tortilla atop a pile of fajita innards. Tony has left his perch at the kitchen table and is instead curled on the sofa with the iPad, still wholly consumed by Peppa Pig.

Rose clears her brother’s empty plate from the table. While in the kitchen, she grabs a bottle of pink wine and two glasses, and pours them both healthy measures. They clink their glasses in a dainty toast before tucking into their meal.

They don’t speak while they eat, but James has never felt more comfortable. There have been dates he’d gone on where he felt the need to fill every awkward silence because it was too stifling. But not here. Not now. Not with Rose.

He stretches his legs towards hers and lets his toes tap an absent beat against her feet while they eat. The beat turns into the rhythm of the song he tried (and failed) all day to tweak.

“D’you wanna see the recording studio?” he blurts. “I could show you how the sausage gets made.”

“You mean you don’t just sing into a microphone and magically have an album?” she drawls.

“Enh, that’s really the general gist of it. Just with some fancier gadgets. So… wanna see the studio? I’m sure there’s a “take your girlfriend to work” day coming up soon.”

Rose cackles. “Next time school’s off, I’ll come by. During the winter holiday, maybe.”

He makes a mental note about it, and is suddenly impatient for the next couple weeks to pass. While he genuinely does want to invite her into his professional life, his ulterior motive for showing her the studio is to present his half-finished album to her, to seek her blessing about creating music that captures and immortalizes the beginnings of their relationships.

When their food is eaten and the dishes are piled into the sink to do later, James and Rose join Tony in the living room. He finally puts the iPad aside and asks, “Can we play Jus’ Dance?”

James perks up. “Ooh, yes please!” He turns to Rose and affects his best pout.

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” she says.

She opens the little cabinet door of the entertainment center her TV sits atop of to reveal an older-model gaming unit.

“Is that a genuine antique Wii?” James gasps.

Rose sticks her tongue out at him. “Shut up. I found one cheap online and got it so I could entertain this little terror when he comes to visit.”

Tony is utterly oblivious to his sister’s comment and is instead preemptively gyrating his hips, dancing to music that exists solely in his head. He puts lyrics to that music and is soon crooning in a long, off-key babble, “Gonna play Jus’ Dance. Gonna dance wi’ sissy. Gonna dance wi’ James. Gonna dance and dance ‘til it’s bedtime and Mummy comes and I go home and sleep in my big boy bed.”

“All right, big boy, you first,” Rose says, loading up the game.

There is a wide selection of songs from the 90’s and early 2000s; James notices she picks a child-appropriate song for her brother to play. Tony eagerly grabs the Wii remote and vaguely follows the on-screen dancer, choosing instead to move his body however he sees fit. The pure joy and delight radiating from the boy is infectious, and before they know it, he and Rose are mirroring Tony’s wild movements and giggling uncontrollably.

“Your turn!” Tony pants, pink-faced.

James accepts the nunchuk and selects a song for himself.

They pass nearly two hours in this fashion, trading off the controller between the three of them. James is amazed by (and slightly envious of) how much stamina Tony has. It’s only when the clock strikes 8:30 that he seems to have hit a wall. He throws himself onto the sofa and announces, “My legs are out of breath.”

Rose grins. “Yeah, mine are too. How ‘bout you, James.”

“So out of breath,” he agrees.

“Let’s sneak in a bit of ice cream before Mummy comes to get you, eh?” Rose suggests.

“Yay! Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream! Choc’late?”

“Of course. Only the best for my Tony.” Rose glances at James. “Want some?”

He nods, and powers down the Wii before settling onto the sofa beside Tony.

“That was fun. Good choice, little man.”

“It’s my fav’rite,” Tony says, still lying in a heap on the sofa. He peers up at James with giant brown eyes that are a few shades darker than Rose’s. “Are you an’ sissy in love?”

James balks. For a split second, he nearly spits out the reactionary retort he gives paparazzi, but mercifully catches himself.

He’s just a child. Of course he isn’t fishing for information. He’s just a child.

“Er, yeah, we are,” he answers, scratching at the back of his neck, as though that will stop his skin from prickling.

Tony beams. “Are you gonna get married?”

James doesn’t have a chance to respond, since Rose chooses this moment to enter the living room juggling three bowls. Her cheeks are pink, and she flashes him an apologetic smile before setting one of the bowls on the coffee table.

“Bum on the floor,” she tells her brother, who is already in motion to sit in front of his ice cream.

She then hands James his ice cream and settles into the spot her brother vacated.

“Sorry ‘bout him,” she murmurs in an undertone.

James shakes her head. “Children don’t know any better. No filter at that age. Not that I’m one to talk. My filter hasn’t developed even by age twenty-seven.”

Rose visibly relaxes, and the three of them sit in comfortable silence, enjoying their dessert.

The entire lower half of Tony’s face is covered in sticky chocolate by the time he’s done, so Rose marches her brother down the hall to clean him up while James takes it upon himself to start the washing up. He cleans up the droplets of melted ice cream from the coffee table, then does all of the dishes piled up by the sink.

Washing dishes has always been a mindless task for him, and tonight is no different. While he runs through the motions of washing and rinsing, his mind wanders absently, wondering what he and Rose can do together tomorrow, wondering where he can take her out to dinner, wondering if, as Tony said, Rose might want to marry him some day.

He never put much thought into marriage; it was something that either happened or didn’t. He has never had the deep and desperate desire to get married; all he ever wanted is to find a partner he loves with his whole self, and who loves him with their whole self. Whether that is made legally official with legally binding documents, or whether it’s a vow of commitment made between him and his partner, he doesn’t care.

But does Rose care? Does Rose want the big fancy wedding with the big fancy dress? He supposes he ought to find out. Really, he ought to find out a lot more than what he already knows. How much does he even know about Rose? What are her hopes and dreams and aspirations? Where does she want her life to be in five years? In ten? Does she want children? Does he want children?

He tries to imagine himself in ten years’ time, just like this, with Rose bathing their child or putting them to bed while he does the evening chores, and he just… he can’t see it.

He tries again and again, despite a little voice in the back of his mind that tells him that this doesn’t matter because he doesn’t know what Rose wants, and yet it makes no difference. Because what if Rose really, really wants children? What if having children is a deal breaker for her? Would he be okay with having kids? Would he be okay with not having kids? Do most twenty-seven-year-olds know by now if they want kids??

James has been absently scrubbing the same bowl for nearly five minutes, and he realizes Rose and Tony have been gone for quite a while.

But he barely finishes that thought when he hears the metallic jangle of a key in a lock, and suddenly Rose’s front door swings open. James’s heart is hammering as he is jarred back to the present. He sets the ultra-clean bowl into the sink and grabs a towel to dry his hands.

“Sorry we’re late. Traffic was a nightmare, you wouldn’t believe—”

A middle-aged blonde woman that James recognizes is standing just inside the front door beside a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair. James freezes as the woman’s eyes lock onto him and turn to ice.

“You!” she snarls, and stalks towards James. He shrinks away, but the sharp edge of the countertop bites into the small of his back, preventing his retreat. “What the hell do you think you’re doing in my daughter’s flat?!”

#ficandchips #dwfic #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #james x rose #my fic #sacred new beginnings #i'm so excited for this chapter #and the coming ones #i hope y'all like this!

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vir-tanadahl · 2 months ago

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Chapter 16: In the Shadow of the Dread Wolf

I’m eagerly rewriting As the Moon Rises, which was originally written back in 2017, in anticipation of Dragon Age: Veilguard, channeling my excitement into refining the story. Summary: Isera Lavellan, at her mother’s behest, is sent to assist her twin brother, Banreas—the Inquisitor—in his mission to stop a force determined to bring about the world’s end. Together, they uncover long-buried secrets of their shared family history while Isera finds herself drawn to a mysterious non-Dalish elven mage whose knowledge of her heritage runs far deeper than she could have imagined. As the stakes rise, Isera must navigate this dangerous journey of discovery, where the past holds as much peril as the looming threats of the present. Solas x F!Lavellan.

[Ch1][Ch2][Ch3][Ch4][Ch5][Ch6][Ch7][Ch8]

[Ch9][Ch10][Ch11] [Ch12][Ch13] [Ch14] [Ch15] [Ch16]

Three times, they ventured through the eluvian from the Winter Palace, each journey drawing them deeper into a forgotten past. Each time, Isera uncovered another codex, each one slipping quietly into her possession. She never told the others. The voices from the Well of Sorrows whispered incessantly, urging her to wait, to keep the knowledge secret until the time was right.

Their most recent journey led them underground, to the ruins of an ancient elven library. This place was harder for Isera to leave. The library had once thrived, interwoven with the Fade itself, a wellspring of elven history now in shambles. So much knowledge had been lost here, and the weight of it pressed on her chest. Her heart ached as she wandered through the dusty shelves, running her fingers over the spines of forgotten tomes.

In true form, she couldn’t resist—her hands moved quickly, gathering as many of the ancient books as she could carry. Old habits. She had spent years collecting from places of knowledge, whether it be for her own survival or personal gain. This felt different, though. This was not just for her.

"We must find the past to protect the future. Only then will we grow," her mother's voice echoed faintly in her mind, a haunting reminder of the legacy she was meant to uphold.

Banreas forces a smile through the pain, his mark glowing faintly even though he tries to hide it. He bends down, scooping Sora and Veira into his arms, kissing their heads as they babble excitedly. For a brief moment, the weight of his burden seems to lift.

“Uncle!” they squeal, wrapping their small arms around his neck. Their joy is a temporary relief, but his eyes quickly find Isera, who sits quietly, watching him. She can see it—the strain, the exhaustion in his movements. He can no longer pretend the mark isn’t worsening.

Isera’s hands tighten in her lap, magic swirling faintly at her fingertips, a reminder of the power she struggles to contain. She wasn’t Solas. Solas had been the one who could control the mark all those years ago, but now, with him gone, she was left to manage as best she could. But it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t enough.

The twins chatter happily as they play on the floor, unaware of the weight hanging in the air. Banreas rises slowly, his expression shifting back to something more serious as he approaches her.

“How bad?” she asks softly, her voice laced with concern.

Banreas waves a hand dismissively, though his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Arl Teagan and Cyril have been informed. They know what’s coming.” He pauses, glancing at the girls before lowering his voice. “It’s getting worse, Isera. We need to find a way—soon.”

Isera nods, her heart sinking. She looks back at her daughters, their laughter echoing through the room. The thought of them growing up without their uncle—it was too much to bear.

“We are about to go through again. We are close to stopping the qunari. Will you come?” Banreas asks, his eyes lingering on his nieces as they play together, their laughter a brief respite from the looming danger. Isera hesitates, her heart torn between her duty and the fear for her daughters’ safety. She watches them, so innocent and unaware of the threat lurking just beyond these walls.

She takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of the decision settle on her shoulders. “They are safe here,” she says, more to convince herself than anything. “I will come.” She stands, her movements stiff with the pain of leaving them behind. It feels like a betrayal, but she knows she can’t turn away from the fight. Not now.

Isera turns to the elven servant, her voice softer. “Perhaps the girls need more friends to play with while I’m away?” she offers, hoping to ease some of the guilt gnawing at her.

The servant looks up, a kind smile on her face. “Of course, my Lady. I will send for our favorites. They always seem to brighten the little ones’ spirits.”

Isera smiles faintly in return, though her heart remains heavy. She kneels down, pulling Sora and Veira into her arms, holding them tightly for a moment. “Be good, my loves,” she whispers, kissing their foreheads. The girls giggle, unaware of the storm brewing around them.

She pulls them closer, their small bodies warm and comforting against her. “Maeme will be back soon,” Isera whispers softly, her lips brushing against their foreheads as she leans in for a final kiss. The twins, too young to understand the weight of her words, simply grin up at her with that innocent, unburdened joy that only children possess. They quickly turn, chasing after the nugs with squeals of delight.

Isera inhales deeply, forcing herself to hold back the tears that sting at the corners of her eyes. The sound of their laughter echoes in the room, pulling at her heart as she steels herself for what lies ahead.

Nodding to herself, as if drawing strength from the moment, she turns and walks out of the room, leaving behind the soft giggles of her daughters that now feel like the most precious sound in the world.

---

Isera grips the edge of the tower for balance, her vision blurring as she stares at the mural before her. The image of Fen’harel, with the note tacked beside it, sends a sharp chill through her.

… believed to be a self-portrait of Fen’harel.

The words echo in her mind like a cruel whisper. She shakes her head in disbelief, her heart pounding beneath the layers of her armor.

"No..." she breathes, her voice trembling. Everything begins to fall into place—the codices she had uncovered, the cryptic words, the endless nights spent replaying their time together in her mind. It’s as if a veil has been lifted, and the truth is suffocating.

Her hand instinctively reaches up, trembling as she presses it against her chest where the jawbone necklace Solas once wore rests beneath her armor. He feels closer than he has in years, as if his presence is lingering around her, haunting her. The realization twists in her stomach, making her feel as though the ground beneath her feet is crumbling away.

"Is?" Banreas' voice cuts through the fog in her mind, calling from below. "Did you find anything?"

Isera quickly pulls her hand away from the necklace, forcing herself to remain steady. She shakes her head, swallowing the panic that threatens to rise. "No, sorry." The lie slips out smoothly, though her voice is tight. "There’s nothing else here. Let’s move further."

She casts one last glance at the mural, her chest aching, her head spinning with the weight of the truth she now carries alone. The voices within her confirm what she already fears, but she can’t—won’t—tell Banreas. Not yet. Her heart, once full of warmth at the thought of him, now feels heavy with the unbearable knowledge of who Solas truly is.

---

Isera’s heart pounds in her chest, each beat a reminder of how little time they have. The chaotic energy of the mark ripples through Banreas, sending violent discharges of raw magic into the air. She barely manages to shield them both, the strain of maintaining her barriers evident in her trembling arms. The Saarebas, wild with Dragon’s Breath, roars in agony, but she knows the only way to end this is through the Fade itself.

"Banreas, I’m sorry," Isera mutters, her voice tight with desperation as she rushes behind him. His body is heavy, weakened by the unstable mark. She catches his weight, her hand gripping his tightly as she channels her own magic into the mark, her connection to the Fade pulsing between them.

The Fade tears open at her command, a gaping maw of swirling, shimmering energy. The Saarebas howls one last time before being consumed, its form unraveling as it is swallowed by the ethereal void. But the victory is short-lived. Isera’s skin burns as the magic surges uncontrollably through her and Banreas, the mark feeding off their very life force.

She gasps, feeling the scorching pain of magic scorching her palm, but she pushes through it, her focus solely on her brother. Banreas collapses, his body limp in her arms as the mark continues to drain him. His eyes, half-lidded and dazed, meet hers with confusion and exhaustion.

“We have to go,” she commands, her voice breaking as she hoists him up, forcing him to his feet despite her own fatigue. "We have to save him!" Her plea is raw, a mixture of determination and fear, the fire in her voice unwavering even as her body protests.

Isera isn’t sure if her desperate plea is meant for her brother, lying weak in her arms, or for Solas—the one who had vanished from her life but never from her thoughts. The guilt gnaws at her, twisting like a knife in her gut. It’s as if, in trying to save Banreas from the mark that threatens to consume him, she is also reaching for the ghost of a man who left her behind.

The shame settles like a weight on her chest, each step she takes dragging her down, as if the truth she’s been avoiding is finally breaking free. The echoes of her own guilt and the compulsion of the voices blur together, leaving her unsure of where her duty to her brother ends and her unresolved pain over Solas begins.

Banreas stumbles, leaning heavily against her, his strength nearly gone. His eyes flutter, trying to focus, but the pain and exhaustion are overwhelming him. Still, Isera refuses to let him fall. ‘Not here. Not like this.’ She won’t lose him—not to the mark, not to the Fade, not today.

“Isera…” Banreas groans, his legs barely holding him as she pulls him along. He’s a dead weight, and she’s fighting her own exhaustion, feeling every pulse of the mark as it surges with unstable energy. They stumble through the eluvian, the mirror sealing behind them with a shimmer of magic.

"Please..." Isera whispers, desperation lacing her voice as she drags him up the hill. Each step is heavier than the last, her limbs screaming in protest. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, but something stronger than exhaustion drives her forward. Solas. She can hear him, his voice clear in her mind, beckoning her, taunting her.

Banreas stumbles beside her, the glow from his mark flaring out of control. He’s barely conscious now, muttering incoherently as his legs give way. Isera catches him, but it’s like trying to hold back a storm with a flimsy shield. The mark—it’s going to kill him.’ She can feel it, the wild magic sparking in his veins, surging dangerously toward release.

She forces herself onward, her eyes locked on Solas. He stands on the ridge, impassive, not even turning as he turns the Viddasala into stone with a mere flick of his hand. Cold. Detached. As if all of this—the destruction, the chaos, even her—meant nothing.

“Ban!” Isera gasps as her brother finally collapses, the mark on his hand blazing with uncontrollable energy. ‘Solas, help him!’ The thought burns in her mind, but she can’t say it aloud. Not after everything. She grits her teeth, trying once again to rein in the power coursing through Banreas’s arm, her own hand trembling from the strain. The magic sears through her, hot and painful, but she refuses to let go.

Solas turns, walking toward them with calm purpose, his expression unreadable. With a simple clench of his fist, the mark stops sparking, the violent magic dissipating into nothing. Isera clutches her brother as he passes out, his body finally giving in to exhaustion and pain. Her heart pounds in her chest, torn between fear and overwhelming relief.

Solas kneels beside her, his presence strangely soothing yet haunting. "He will wake in a few minutes," he says softly, his voice steady. His gaze meets hers, and a gentle smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "I suspect you have questions."

Isera grips Banreas tighter, the weight of everything crashing down on her. “I know…” she whispers, her eyes locked onto his. Her voice is firm, but her body betrays her, trembling. "You are Fen’harel. You are the Dread Wolf."

His eyebrows lift slightly in surprise, though a trace of sadness lingers in his eyes. "Well done." He smiles, but there is no joy in it. Only regret. “I was Solas first. Fen’harel came later—an insult, a name I took as a badge of pride. The Dread Wolf inspired hope in my friends and fear in my enemies." He chuckles lightly, but it’s a hollow sound. "Not unlike the Inquisitor, I suppose." He glances down at Banreas, as if seeing another piece of himself in Isera's brother.

Tears brim in Isera's eyes, her voice breaking as she speaks. "The Dalish…they were wrong. The tales of you—they’re all wrong. Solas, you are a hero."

Solas looks at her, and the pain that flashes across his face is undeniable. His features soften, and for a moment, he looks far older than he ever did before. "Those are fragments," he says quietly, his voice tinged with sorrow. "Fragments to give me more credit than I ever deserved."

Isera tries to suppress the crushing sense of betrayal swelling in her chest. “If you had just told me…” she whispers, her voice trembling with pain. Yet, deep down, she knows the truth—if Solas had revealed his identity earlier, she isn’t sure how she would have reacted. Would she have believed him? Could she have accepted it?

Solas lowers his head, sorrow etched across his face. “Then you would carry the same burden I do,” he replies, his voice soft but heavy with regret.

“I want to… ma ghilana, vhenan,” Isera cries, her fingers gripping tightly around his wrist. Her heart aches, and in a fleeting moment, images of their children flash before her eyes—Sora and Viera, the life they could have had together. She refuses to release her hold on his gauntlet.

Solas meets her gaze, his own eyes filled with an impossible sadness. “I wish it could be, vhenan,” he whispers, his free hand covering hers, the weight of his words like a dagger in her heart.

Banreas stirs in her lap, groaning as he regains consciousness. Still dazed, he slowly rises to his knees, glancing down at the now-stabilized mark on his hand. "What happened?" he asks, his voice groggy and confused.

Isera takes a deep breath, her hand slipping away from Solas as she links it with her brother’s, grounding herself. “Solas is the Dread Wolf, brother,” she whispers, blinking back the tears that threaten to fall. The truth sits heavy between them all, like the final stroke in a tale far too long in the making.

Banreas blinks in confusion, his gaze shifting between Solas and Isera, trying to make sense of it all. Solas confirms what Isera had told him, recounting his role in their world’s undoing. He explains how he created the Veil, locking away the false gods, and how in doing so, he had unwittingly destroyed the very essence of the elves he sought to protect. His new goal, he reveals, is to remove the Veil and return the world to what it once was.

Solas stands, stepping away from them, his back turned as if distancing himself from the weight of his own admission.

Banreas, still kneeling beside Isera, wipes dirt from his hands with a sharp exhale. His expression shifts, exhaustion mingling with an incredulous irritation and exhaustion. His brow arches as he mutters sarcastically, “Of course, you had children with Fen’harel. Why wouldn’t you?”

The dryness in his tone is matched by a sharp side-eye toward Isera, as if the entire situation is too absurd to be real, too overwhelming to even process properly. His biting remark lingers in the air, cutting through the tension with a mix of disbelief and bitterness.

Before he can say another word, Isera lets out a shriek and instinctively smacks him on the back of the head. Banreas rubs the back of his head, muttering a curse under his breath as he steps away from Isera, still not fully believing the absurdity of the situation.

Solas spins around, yet remains rooted in place, his eyes locked on Isera, wide with a flurry of emotions that she can barely register—shock, fear, concern… and something else she can’t quite place. His usually composed expression crumbles in an instant. “What?” he breathes, voice barely above a whisper. “Children?” Solas breathes out, his voice cracking slightly, as if the word itself was something too fragile to exist. His expression is a whirlwind of disbelief and, to Isera's surprise, something close to joy.

Isera’s heart pounds in her chest, the steady rhythm of her pulse deafening in her ears. This moment—this impossible, sudden moment—had never been part of her plan. She had fantasized about telling him, about how it might unfold, but nothing in her imagination could have prepared her for this.

Her eyes are wide, still locked on Solas. He stands frozen, shock and confusion written on his face, his earlier calm unraveling with each passing second. She can see the emotions warring behind his eyes—fear, concern, happiness—all tangled in a web of uncertainty.

Isera opens her mouth to speak but no sound comes out at first. The weight of the revelation is almost too much. Finally, she forces the words past her lips, her voice barely a whisper, “Y-yes… children.”

Solas blinks, staring at her in disbelief. “Children?” His voice trembles, as if even uttering the word threatens to break whatever fragile control he has left.

Isera swallows hard, her throat tight with emotion. “I… I tried to find you… to tell you.” Her words waver as she pushes herself to her feet, body trembling with anxiety and fear. Every movement feels like a monumental effort. She takes a shaky breath. “But I couldn’t reach you.” Isera whispers, her voice cracking under the strain. The truth had clawed at her for years, and now it hung in the air between them, fragile yet undeniable. She feels exposed, her vulnerability laid bare as she stands before him, every inch of her shaking. Solas doesn’t speak, but the look in his eyes says more than words ever could.

For the first time in what feels like ages, Solas is speechless, eyes locked onto her as if struggling to comprehend the gravity of what she’s just revealed. Solas doesn’t move. He simply stares at her in silence, absorbing the revelation, but she can see the depth of his turmoil—the battle between his longing and the weight of his mission.

The mirror behind Solas ripples, and Isera's eyes narrow in suspicion as a figure steps out from the swirling magic. She cranes her head to look past Solas, heart pounding in sudden alarm. ‘Is this his plan?’ she wonders, dread pooling in her gut. ‘Has he brought reinforcements to kill us?’

The figure saunters forward with a graceful, deliberate ease, their voice breaking through Isera’s thoughts, soft and lilting. “It has been too long since I have seen you both.” Isera’s breath catches in her throat. The voice… it’s too familiar, too impossible. She stares into the glowing blue-golden eyes of the figure approaching them, disbelief washing over her like a wave.

“Mother?” Banreas's voice breaks the silence, full of disbelief as he looks at the woman who steps forward, her presence commanding and ethereal. Eludysia smiles, and the warmth in her expression is unmistakable. “Hello, my son.” She halts a few steps before Solas, her eyes flickering with recognition as if no time had passed.

Isera feels her stomach churn. The woman before her is not the mother she left in Rivain, the small, wise healer hunched over ancient tomes, her hands worn from decades of grinding herbs. That woman had been frail, her curly, gray-streaked hair framing a face marked by time and study. She had once joked that the silver strands in her hair were threads of wisdom earned from years of learning.

But this woman—this version of Eludysia—was different. She stood tall, proud, with a statuesque frame. Her dark, curly hair, now free of gray, cascaded down her back, long and vibrant. Her blue-golden eyes shimmered with ancient knowledge, glinting with an otherworldly glee. Resting upon her brow was an ornate dragon’s skull, enchanted and powerful.

Solas steps aside, his head slightly bowed, his posture guarded as Eludysia approached. Confusion echoed in his usually composed gaze, a rare break in his carefully maintained stoicism. For once, even he did not have the answers.

“What…?” Solas mutters, echoing the bewilderment coursing through the moment. There was a chorus of confusion shared between him, Isera, and Banreas. None of them had expected this.

Eludysia, on the other hand, seemed to revel in the mystery of her presence. A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she turned her gaze to Solas. "You have always been prideful, Dread Wolf. So arrogant that you did not even sense the old blood flowing through their veins," she teased, her voice laced with amusement, enjoying the rare moment where Solas was caught off guard.

Solas scowled, his brows knitting tightly. The tension in the air grew palpable, as if even the Fade held its breath, waiting for the truth to unravel.

Isera’s head shook in disbelief. “Old blood? You’re lying,” she snapped, her voice sharp with denial. “That’s not possible. I would remember. We would remember!” Her gaze darted to Banreas, still on his knees, weakened and equally stunned. His expression mirrored hers—confusion and uncertainty written across his face.

Eludysia sighed, her smile fading as she looked at Isera with something akin to regret. “You were five when the Veil began tearing our world apart,” she began softly. “I did what I had to, took us into a deep slumber as the Veil was torn. Your memory is fragmented, like broken shards of a mirror.”

Isera shakes her head vehemently, refusing to accept the implications of her mother’s words. “If what you’re saying is true, then Banreas would be a mage, and we would be immortal,” she counters, her voice laced with desperation, clinging to logic as though it were the last anchor holding her reality together.

Eludysia frowns, her expression softening with a sadness that runs deep. “You are immortal, Isera. You’ve always been connected to the Fade. That connection remains, though part of your power is locked behind the Veil,” she explains, her voice a gentle rebuke against Isera's denial. Then, a thoughtful hum escapes her lips. “It would have been better if you had borne the mark. It was never meant for a mortal…” Her gaze shifts to Banreas, who is still kneeling, worn and struggling under the weight of the revelations.

Turning to him, Eludysia’s voice wavers, guilt evident in her tone. “Your lack of magical ability and immortality is my fault, my son.” Her words are heavy with regret. “Banreas, you were not blessed with the same gift as your sister. When the Veil was tearing the world apart, I was injured and dying. I did not have the strength, the energy to protect us all during our slumber… I failed you,” she confesses, her voice breaking, pain seeping into each word. “I’m sorry.”

Isera’s heart pounded, a distant pain flickering in the edges of her mind, memories just out of reach. “A slumber?” she whispered, her voice shaky, as if testing the words. Her mind raced with questions, with possibilities she couldn’t quite grasp.

The tension in the air grows thick as Eludysia’s sorrowful gaze turns to Solas, her regret transforming into a sharp glare. “Did you not tell her of the ability she possesses? Or were you too blind to make that connection yourself?” Her words are a biting accusation, her tone sharp and filled with reproach as she directs her ire at the Dread Wolf.

Solas’s eyes darkened, unreadable emotions swirling beneath his calm facade, but his silence spoke volumes. Whatever Eludysia had revealed had shaken even him. Solas’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t immediately respond. He meets her glare, though his eyes betray the burden of knowledge he carries.

Solas pulls back slightly, his gaze narrowing with interest as he processes Eludysia’s words. “She’s an i've'an'amelan? A protector of the Fade?” The disbelief in his voice is palpable, his expression a mixture of surprise and incredulity. “That is impossible. They... didn’t survive. I determined that the separation between the two worlds caused their minds to collapse. They were more intrinsically connected to the Fade than almost any other.”

Eludysia shrugs dismissively, her glare unwavering. “Those who entered uthenera survived, Dread Wolf.” Her tone is sharp, tinged with a scorn that hasn’t faded with time. “Isera is untrained, yes, but the blood of protectors flows through her veins. Their father was the best of them, and he died trying to stop the horror you caused.” Her words slice through the air, dripping with resentment as she continues to glare at him, the bitterness of old wounds resurfacing.

“If only you had waited—asked for help…” She shakes her head, her voice laden with a sorrow that has never healed. The memory of the past seems to grip her tightly, and for a moment, there is a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. “You might not have torn everything apart.”

Solas bows his head under the weight of her accusation, his expression betraying the guilt he still carries. The memory stirs something deep within him, a regret that has lingered for millennia, now brought to the forefront by Eludysia's words.

Eludysia looks around, her expression calming as she regains her composure. “I predicted we would need as many i've'an'amelan as possible when we awoke to restore what was lost,” she continues, her voice more measured now. She glances at Solas before focusing on Isera. “Surely, your memories have been returning since you began wearing the circlet?”

Isera’s fingers instinctively reach for the circlet resting on her head. “How do you know about that?” she demands, a knot of distrust tightening in her chest. She’s not ready to believe what she’s hearing—this revelation about her bloodline, her past, her mother’s role in it all.

Eludysia’s laughter breaks the tension, a knowing sound that only makes Isera more uneasy. Her hands rest confidently on her hips, head cocked to one side as she regards her daughter. “Child, how do you think the Inquisition agents found it in the first place?” She shakes her head, bemused. “It was mine. I am a high priestess of Mythal.” The weight of her words presses down on Isera, the reality of what her mother is saying sinking in deeper.

Isera blinks, her mind reeling as she covers her face with her hands. Everything feels too overwhelming—the father of her children is Fen’harel, her mother a high priestess of Mythal, and they are not just elves, but elvhen—one of the ancients. It’s too much, and the weight of these revelations presses down on her like a suffocating fog.

Eludysia, with a serene smile, turns away from Solas and approaches Isera’s children, her arms open wide. “Children, I want you to come with us,” she says warmly, her voice filled with a strange, eerie calm. “You are one of us. You need to help.”

Isera notices Solas stiffen, his eyes narrowing into slits. Though he says nothing, his silent fury is palpable, his body taut as if ready to strike. The tension in the air thickens as Eludysia continues, oblivious—or perhaps uncaring—of Solas’s reaction.

Banreas lets out a sudden, boisterous laugh, a mix of disbelief and pain. “I am not one of you,” he declares, his voice weak but defiant. “This is my world. There are other ways to restore what was lost, but not… not that.” His words are gritted through clenched teeth, and Isera can see the mark on his hand throbbing more violently. Time is running out for him.

Isera lowers her hands and shakes her head firmly, but her emotions churn in a storm of guilt, regret, and desire. Torn between the pull of her past—her love for Solas, the revelations of her heritage, and the call to join her mother—and the fierce bond she has with her daughters, she feels herself fracturing.

Her voice is steady, but the weight of her inner conflict is clear. “Your plan to restore your world could kill my daughters—and I will not leave my children.” The words leave her lips with a determined finality, though inside, the turmoil rages. She cannot deny that had she not borne her daughters, the path before her would be different. Without them, she would follow her mother into this ancient cause, or chase after Solas, the Dread Wolf, to the ends of Thedas. But now, with her daughters, she feels an inescapable tether to this life—a bond stronger than any temptation from the past.

Eludysia frowns, her eyebrows raising in surprise, unaware of the recent offspring. “You...had children?” Her voice carries a hint of confusion and hurt. The realization washes over her as she sighs, nodding in understanding, though the glimmer of disappointment in her eyes betrays her emotions. It is clear this revelation shifts her perspective, a complication she hadn't anticipated.

Solas exhales sharply, cutting through the moment with a tone of urgency. “This is my burden,” he declares with resolve, his gaze hardening. “You should be concerned about your Inquisition. You halted the Qunari forces, but their perception of your involvement is...complicated.” He pauses, eyes narrowing as he explains the fallout. “The Qunari believed the Inquisition was working for me. With luck, you may have a few years of peace before the consequences of that assumption catch up with you.” His words carry the weight of the conflict still to come, a reminder that while they may have slowed the Qunari, the storm is far from over.

Solas’s words slice through the air, heavy with both revelation and consequence. "Do you want to know how I uncovered the Qunari plot? The one I disrupted by leading them to your doorstep?" His gaze sharpens as he continues. "My spies in the Inquisition tripped over their spies. The elven guard who intercepted the servant carrying the Gatlok barrel? Mine."

Banreas, visibly frustrated and struggling with the weight of the situation, speaks up with impatience lacing his voice, “And now you control all of the eluvian?”

Solas nods, his expression unreadable. “Yes. Do you remember Briala from Halamshiral? She controlled them for a time, but only partially. The Qunari stumbled upon this network independently.”

Isera stands frozen, her heart pounding as she watches Solas kneel beside her brother, his expression a mask of dread. She recalls the offer from Briala regarding the elven fortress in the Dales. The memory of the proposal, once burdened with political weight, now fills her with an unexpected sense of relief. The fortress had been a gamble, a risk laden with uncertainty, but in this moment, she is grateful she accepted it.

Banreas winces, the mark on his arm glowing dangerously, sending erratic bolts of magic spiraling upward. He grunts, his body dragged helplessly by the surging power of the anchor, which pulses and burns like a living thing.

"And this anchor?" Banreas grits through his teeth, raising his trembling arm. "It's getting worse." Solas’s face hardens, shadows of guilt and sorrow crossing his features. “I know, my friend,” he whispers, his voice low, full of pain. “And we are running out of time.”

The magic surges again, a burst of chaotic energy shooting from the mark, forcing Banreas to the ground with a groan. Solas reaches down, his hand hovering over the mark, but it’s clear even his ancient knowledge and power are strained by the destructive force at play.

“The mark was never meant for a mortal,” Solas murmurs, his voice weighed with regret. “It will eventually kill you. Drawing you here gave me the chance to save you… at least for now.”

Isera feels her throat tighten, her hands clenching at her sides as she watches the scene unfold, helpless. Solas’s words echo in her mind: ‘save you... at least for now’. The reality of what they were up against was becoming clearer with every flare of the mark, and every moment, the truth solidified—there was no escaping what Solas had set into motion.

“Solas, var lath ver suledin, ma vhenan!” Isera pleads, her voice trembling as she rushes toward him, latching onto his arm. Her desperation is palpable, clinging to the hope that her words might somehow sway him. Solas looks down at her, his face etched with pain and sorrow, but he remains silent, burdened by the weight of his decision.

Banreas cries out again, the mark flaring violently as his body convulses. The destructive magic surges through him, threatening to consume what is left. Solas’s eyes glow with ancient power, and the mark begins to fade, piece by piece, as the magic is reabsorbed into the Fade. Banreas’ hand slowly vanishes, dissolving into nothingness, leaving only the scars of the battle he never asked for.

Solas steps closer to Isera, his hand trembling as he gently brushes a strand of hair away from her tear-streaked face. “Ma vhenan...”he whispers, his voice barely audible, laden with sorrow. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, a fleeting moment of tenderness amid the chaos. “Ar ame ir abelas” he breathes, his forehead resting against hers as her silent sobs escape. I am so sorry.

Isera clings to him, her heart breaking as she fights to hold onto the moment, but Solas gently pulls away. She resists, her fingers tightening around his arm, refusing to let go. “Vya isalan na,” she whispers through her tears, her voice cracking with the weight of her grief. They need you.

Solas hesitates, his gaze filled with regret and an unbearable sadness. He gives her one last sorrowful look, full of everything he cannot say, before turning away. He still doesn’t answer, leaving Isera standing there, alone with her pain, as he walks into the shadows of the Fade.

Isera reluctantly lets go of his arm, her fingers brushing the fabric as he walks away, never turning back. His posture is rigid, shoulders squared as he stands by the eluvian, waiting for Eludysia to join him.

Eludysia pauses, turning to face her children with a serene smile, her palms open in a gesture of warmth. "I am proud of you both. You’ve done the People proud," she says softly before stepping toward Solas.

Isera watches them disappear into the shimmering surface of the mirror. Her heart wrenches as the eluvian fades to gray, the magic dissolving until it is nothing but a mirror and stone once more. She fights the overwhelming urge to chase after them, feeling as though a part of her has followed them through the eluvian.

---

Banreas brought the Inquisition to an end that night with a bold, decisive act. He let the heavy tome—symbolic of their authority—fall to the floor with a resounding thud that echoed through the chamber. The weight of the gesture was impossible to ignore, causing an immediate ripple of shock among the gathered nobility. Gasps and murmurs filled the air as the room stirred in disbelief, eyes following Banreas as he turned and strode out without a word, leaving a trail of confusion and uncertainty in his wake.

However, Banreas was certain of one thing—his decision to disband the Inquisition was a calculated effort to keep corruption at bay. The organization had grown too large, too entangled in the political webs of Orlais and Ferelden. By scaling it down, he could prevent the rot from spreading further. But there was another, more personal reason behind his choice. Hidden beneath the official rhetoric, Banreas harbored a quiet resolve: a smaller, more focused group could be better equipped to stop Solas before his plans came to fruition.

Isera swiftly maneuvers through the sea of murmuring nobles following the abrupted announcement, her eyes locking on Briala, who stands apart from the chaos with a watchful, detached gaze. As Isera approaches, Briala’s brows rise in mild surprise, but a knowing glint lights her eyes.

“We must meet, sooner than expected,” Isera says, her voice low but firm, glancing briefly over her shoulder at the unfolding commotion.

Briala's lips curve into a subtle smile, one of understanding and anticipation. “Indeed,” she responds softly, her tone laced with the unspoken intricacies of their shared plans. Without further words, Briala nods and turns gracefully, slipping away from the court like a shadow, leaving Isera to linger a moment longer before following suit.

---

The Inquisition members returned to Skyhold under the cover of night, and despite their late arrival, the downsizing began almost immediately. The halls that once echoed with purpose were now eerily quiet, as if the heart of the Inquisition had already begun to fade.

Isera cradled Sora against her chest, the child's soft breathing a comfort in the stillness. Veira, however, remained wide awake, her little hands gripping at her mother’s tunic as they made their way back to the clinic. Exhaustion pulled at Isera’s every step, her body heavy with the weight of the past few days. Upon reaching the clinic, she sighed deeply, locking the door behind her for a moment of reprieve.

The clinic, so familiar and usually safe, now feels foreign. As she turned to head upstairs, something caught her eye—aged, unfamiliar books placed haphazardly on her potion desk. She had seen these kinds of tomes before—old, powerful, and dangerous. Isera froze, her heart skipping a beat. These weren’t hers, they weren’t the ones she brought back from the crossroads, nor were they anything she had ever seen within the Inquisition's collection. The leather spines, worn and cracked with age, whispered of secrets long hidden, and her pulse quickened with suspicion.

Her chest tightens as she ascends the stairs, gripping Veira's small hand. “Come, Veira,” she urged softly, guiding her daughter up the steps, a growing unease settling in her chest as memories of the eluvian resurfaced in her mind. She couldn’t shake the image of the eluvian in the prayer room from her mind. Solas had walked through one, gone in an instant. Could another threat have followed in his wake? Her heart pounds louder, as if to warn her of unseen dangers lurking.

"Come, Veira," she whispers again, her voice steady but her thoughts anything but calm. Every creak of the stairs feels like a signal of something watching. Isera glances back at the books one last time before hurrying her daughter into the upper room. Her eyes sweep the room. Nothing feels amiss up here, yet the air is heavy, thick with the kind of magic she has grown all too familiar with since her time with Solas.

"Vehnan..." Solas’s voice is a soft murmur that cuts through the quiet of the clinic. Isera freezes mid-step, her heart thundering in her chest. From her position on the stairs, she looks up at him—Solas, not Fen’harel, standing there in the simple clothes he used to wear. Gone was the imposing figure, glittering in the armor of legend. Here, before her, was the man she once knew, and he looked vulnerable, afraid, almost as uncertain as she felt.

His gaze drops to the floor, shame casting shadows across his features. His hands fidget at his sides, fingers twitching nervously as if unsure of their place. “I had to see them…” he whispers, barely lifting his eyes to meet hers. There’s a tremor in his voice, an uncertainty that he rarely allowed himself to show.

Isera doesn’t move. She feels the weight of a thousand possibilities swirling in her chest, each one more terrifying than the last. What if he tries to take them? What if he’s here to tear apart the fragile life she’s built? But she nods, swallowing the lump in her throat.

She doesn’t know what to do, and her fear matches his. She can see it in his posture, in the way he hesitates, as though he’s unsure if he’s even welcome here. For a moment, they stand in silence, caught between the past and the future, both uncertain of where to go from here.

Isera takes a deep, steadying breath, pushing down the tremor of fear and uncertainty that gnaws at her. Slowly, she crosses the room and kneels beside Solas, offering a small smile despite the tension. "Ahn mar melin?" Solas asks Veira gently, his eyes soft. What is your name.

Veira stares up at him, her chubby fingers wrapped around the hem of her mother’s cloak. She tilts her head, her young mind working to understand the unfamiliar words, before her lips part with a shy smile.

“Ma'melin Veira,” she says proudly, her voice small but full of confidence as she looks between her mother and Solas. Solas’s eyes light up with emotion, his expression tender. “Veira…” he repeats softly, as though trying the name out for the first time, his voice filled with reverence. He looks up at Isera, a hint of awe in his gaze, and nods slightly, his heart heavy with unspoken emotions.

Solas shifts, his posture softening as he kneels to meet Veira’s gaze. “Savhalla…”His voice is barely above a whisper, filled with awe and apprehension as he sees his daughter for the first time. Hello.

Veira's auburn hair is tousled, her shirt stained with remnants of treats from their long journey back to Skyhold. Isera hadn’t the time to tidy her up; everything had been a rush, an effort to escape the weight of the Winter Palace. Veira looks up at her mother with curious, wide eyes before pointing a small finger at Solas. “Na’ise babae.” Isera says softly. He is your father.

Solas’s breath catches in his throat, his eyes widening in surprise as he glances up at Isera, unsure of how to respond. He hesitates, his emotions tangling in the moment. Veira glances up at her mother, confusion and curiosity clouding her small face as she tries to understand the man now kneeling before her. She tugs on Isera’s sleeve, her wide eyes searching for reassurance.

“Babae?” Veira asks softly, her tiny voice questioning the presence of the man she’s just learned is her father.

Solas’s breath hitches, his heart caught in the moment. He can see the uncertainty in her eyes, the childlike need to understand. He looks to Isera, waiting for her to lead this fragile moment, unsure of how much he can claim this new role, if he can at all.

Isera’s throat tightens as she kneels beside Veira, brushing a stray lock of auburn hair from her daughter's face. “Vin, Veira, ma vhen'an,” Isera whispers, her voice warm and steady despite the heaviness in her chest. Yes, Veira, my heart.

“Na’ise babae.” He is your father.

Solas lowers his gaze for a moment, his heart weighed down by guilt and longing. When he looks up, he gently holds out his hand, the simple gesture filled with quiet hope. Veira hesitates, glancing between her mother and Solas again, before taking a small, uncertain step closer to him. She reaches out, her tiny fingers brushing against his hand, her touch delicate and curious.

Solas smiles, his eyes shimmering with emotion. "Babae," he repeats quietly, his voice almost breaking, as though the word itself carries the weight of worlds. For a brief second, the room feels smaller, the weight of what’s been lost and gained lingering in the air between them. Solas’s hand trembles slightly as he reaches out, still in disbelief, to gently touch Veira’s cheek.

Solas opens his arms, and without hesitation, Veira rushes into his embrace. Isera had spent countless nights telling her daughters stories of their father—the elven apostate who aided the Inquisition, the man who helped save their uncle, and the one who was so deeply passionate about the elven people and their history that he would one day share those tales with them himself.

Solas lifts Veira gently, his heart swelling as she begins to play with his cheeks, her small hands exploring his face as she babbles in her own language. A quiet chuckle escapes him, the innocence of the moment softening the sharp edges of his inner turmoil.

"And what is her name?" Solas asks, nodding toward Sora, who stands watching them with wide, curious eyes. His voice is hesitant, almost as though he's afraid to step closer, unsure of the boundaries after so long apart. But the pull is undeniable—his family is here, in this room.

Isera’s eyes glisten as she watches the scene unfold. She had prepared herself for many things, but not this—seeing Solas so vulnerable, so tender with their daughter. She turns to Sora, who has been quietly observing from her place, one hand clutching the hem of Isera's tunic.

“This is Sora,” Isera answers softly, giving the little girl a gentle nudge forward. “She’s a little more shy… but just as curious.” Sora, who had been fast asleep against her mother’s chest, had quietly awoken at some point during the interaction. Her wide, sleepy eyes blink up at Solas as she clutches her mother’s tunic with tiny fists, still groggy but alert. She peers at him with curiosity, her small brow furrowing slightly, as if trying to piece together the world she’s woken into.

Solas watches her with soft reverence, lowering himself slowly to her level. "Ma'vhenan," he whispers gently, his hand extending toward her in quiet invitation. His expression is a delicate mix of longing and tenderness, his eyes filled with an almost unbearable emotion.

Sora gazes at him, her tiny fingers inching closer toward his outstretched hand. There’s a moment of hesitation as she studies him, her innocence untangling the emotions she senses but can’t yet name. Finally, her small hand reaches forward, brushing against his, a fleeting but significant connection.

Solas smiles warmly, the bond slowly forming with both of his daughters, though a storm of emotions brews just beneath the surface—guilt, joy, and sorrow, all wrapped together. But in this moment, he lets himself feel only the love he had feared would never be his to experience.

Isera smiles, her voice soft and filled with love. “She’s like you. She likes to sleep a lot.” She jokes gently, trying to ease the weight of the moment. She turns and sits on the edge of the bed, motioning for him to join her with Veira still in his arms.

Solas hesitates for a moment, his eyes searching her face for permission before he steps forward and carefully sits beside her, Veira nestled in his lap. Isera glances at him, the warmth of the moment overshadowed by the ache she’s carried for so long.

“I tried to find you,” she whispers, her voice breaking with the rawness of emotion she’s held back for years. “To tell you. I would never keep them from you…” Tears stream down her face, each one carrying the weight of every moment she’d thought he was lost to her.

She never thought this day would come, never thought she would see him sitting beside her with their children. And now, here he is—finally—meeting them. Her heart feels painfully full, torn between the deep ache of missing him and the overwhelming love she still holds for him. She chokes back a sob, her chest tightening.

“I know, vhenan,” Solas whispers, tears finally spilling from his eyes as he holds Veira close. He wraps his free arm around Isera, pulling her into him. “I know.” His lips press a soft kiss against her temple before he leans his head against hers.

Isera closes her eyes, savoring the feeling of his warmth beside her, the familiar scent of him—musky, earthy, grounding—the gentle sound of his breathing filling the room. She breathes him in, a bittersweet comfort after so long apart.

“I won’t stop you from seeing them. Not even now,” she tells him, her voice steady with resolve. And she meant it. She grew up without knowing her father, and no matter how painful or complicated things were, she wants their daughters to know him, to feel his love.

They settle against the headboard, their sleeping children nestled between them as the moon casts a silver glow through the window. Solas moves carefully to lay Veira down, and Isera follows, placing Sora beside her sister. Both toddlers sleep soundly, unaware of the world’s weight that rests on their parents' shoulders.

Solas turns to Isera, reaching for her, his eyes filled with sorrow and longing. “I must go,” he says quietly, wrapping his arms around her once more. Isera can feel the tension in his body, the burden he carries pressing heavily on him.

She nods, wiping her tears against his sleeve, her heart heavy with the knowledge that he will leave again. “Be careful,” she whispers, her voice barely holding together. She wanted to beg, to plead for him to stay—to let go of the past and the burdens he carried. But she didn’t.

The words caught in her throat, swallowed by the weight of everything unspoken between them. She knew he couldn't, that asking him to stay would be asking him to give up who he was, and perhaps who he needed to be. The urge to hold onto him, to keep him close, burned within her, but she stifled it, knowing this wasn't the time. It never was.

Solas held her gaze for a moment longer, his hand still resting on hers, as if he too wanted to say something more, to offer a promise he could not keep. Instead, he only gave her a final, fleeting smile, bittersweet and full of regret.

He pauses, holding her hand tightly in his, his gaze softening as he looks at her. “For them... I will try,” he promises. Then, with a swift motion, Solas shifts into a small black bird with striking blue eyes and flies out of the window, disappearing into the night.

Isera stood at the window long after he had disappeared, her heart aching with the weight of all the words she hadn’t said, and the hope she clung to, no matter how fragile. For now, she will hold onto the moment they had, and the hope that he might return again, for her and their daughters.

What Isera did not realize was the profound effect she had on Solas, how her presence unknowingly shaped his every choice. Though he walked a path veiled in shadow, her light illuminated the way forward. The Dread Wolf, once lost in the darkness, now looked to the moon—his love—to guide him through the unknown. As the moon rises, the Dread Wolf’s path becomes clearer, illuminated by the very light he never anticipated possessing.

#solas #solavellan #solas x lavellan #solas x female lavellan #solas x oc #solas dragon age #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #solas x inquisitor #solavellan hell #isera lavellan #As the Moon Rises #vir writes #dragon age veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #dav

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silvertsundere · 1 year ago

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Silver Talks AniManga (30/07/23)

no zom this week cause the episode got delayed to monday, I could just wait til tomorrow to watch it and then post this but idk if I'll end up watching it tomorrow or not so I'll just have it together with next week's

Anime

Pokemon Horizons Ep15

the iono episode is finally here, shame they didn't let fairouz ai reprise her role since she voiced her previously but hondo kaede did a good job too. dot also went outside for the first time ever,and gonna be outside next time too so that's nice, maybe riko will learn her secret sooner rather than later

Atelier Ryza Ep5

ah yes the good ol, beach fanservice episode, can never go wrong with those. been quite a while since I've seen one myself tbh. they're building the hideout next ep so that should be fun

Manga

Dandadan Ch115

not the biggest fan of the guy but always a sucker for a cool big robot. now that he's here there shouldn't be much more left of this big battle against the aliens, it's been going on for quite a bit too. unless the granny shows up but I expect her to only show up when it's already over. been a good arc, tho still expecting that youkai haunting momo to show up

Jiangshi X Ch20

ah there's the timeskip I've been expecting, I called it a while ago but took quite a bit more than expected to get her, it was inevitable tho

Kill Blue Ch15

the sports arc is done, it was kinda funny seeing fujimaki coming up with an excuse to make a sports manga again, it was p decent tho, tenma wasn't as bad as he initially looked like he'd be

Martial Master Asumi Ch7

nice chap, as expected nito got clapped but now he has a motivation to keep doing mma, this was also the last chap of vol1 and it's a really good stopping point for that too. it's been doing quite decent in ratings too so there's no danger of it going anywhere, looking forward to where it'll go

Undead Unluck Ch169

a very fun start to this HS arc, going exactly as how expected it would, it prob won't be that long, just as the tournament one, but it's p chill so I'll enjoy it while it lasts

Sakamoto Days Ch129

I guess slur somehow "absorbs" the personalities of people he kills? it would explain this and other lines from before where they said he was acting like a different person. also weird that we're already here, skipping the fights against all his goons but I guess he'll just escape the next chap or the one after that and then we'll get all the 1v1s

Akane-banashi Ch72

the cliffhanger was expected but it doesn't sting any less. akane's performance was great tho, really cool seeing her come out of her dad's shadow and into her own. praying for her victory next time 🙏 even if I'm still not convinced it'll happen

Ayakashi Triangle Ch138

huge cliffhanger and there's not even gonna be a chapter next week damn. good chap tho, first real character "death" we've gotten, tho he'll prob come back just a lot less powerful, there's also still matsuri's new form but that'll prob the on 140 after suzu gets to fight for a bit by herself

#silver talks animanga

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honeybeewhereartthee · 2 years ago

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Crystal Hearts

Prequel PT3: you and me

➽───Previous───CH15────Next───❥

"Ahaha~ hold my hand. Everything would be fine~"

As you step on the edge and giving a hand to offer to him, he hesitates before he sighs, and he slowly held your hand.

" Fine. "

He sighs after he realizes he cannot be a chicken about it anymore.

" amazing decision, my dear friend~!!"

You pulled him to circle your hands around his waist, causing him to blush before you step back away from the little space that hinder you two from falling into the sky below.

"Hey!"

He wants to complain about not warning him beforehand but remember that this is not the first try. You did warn him earlier.

[Motto yokubatte gokigen ni tobimawaren ~]

You felt something poof out of the top of your head and tiger tail behind you to waggle in joy as you copy Rinne voice yet again. His eyes widen at the sight of it. The time slow down as you activite a skill that can freeze and your power over time. To slow it down for the two of you.

[ O-omoikiri tobimawaren ]

After taking a deep breath, be finally follow along, as he said those. His clear wings of a bee appear behind him and antenna on top of his head, he was shocked as he is finally able to do this time around as he secure his hold on you.

[ Kanjiatte ikou ze ]

Smirking you return the speed of time to it's normal flow causing you two to fall a bit faster than earlier.

[ zokuzoku suru youna ]

Taking a deep breath. He takes the sensation of thrill he felt from the wind blowing, his Wings start to flatter. Soon the two of stop falling and soaring through the sky.

[ Shunkan ga ii ne]

You giggle as you look up to him. He smiles as he can't believe he did it this time. (Good job.) You told him through telepathy. ( Don't worry about people looking. We're invisible at the moment. So go Ham I guess. ) You added.

[ BET! Omae wa douda !?]

Grinning with a sense of trump, he test the limit of what he could do now, he speeds up. Zooming to the wide sky with the hint of the color of his hair and outfit being seen in a straight line.

The laughter's and giggle from the two of you as you enjoy the fun trip. He felt so happy.

It has been a couple of months since you and him meet again. You keep meeting each other in the same place, the park.

The most strange things was that, he was never question what's his name is. But then again you never use a name when addressing him, since there's only the two of you. He wondered if you even know his name.

"... Ya seem to be in a deep thought those days. Care to share?" His father ask him while they are eating in the family dinner. He has been looking through his phone thinking about when you'll appear in the park tomorrow, or where you are right now.

Since you don't meet up with him today. You don't have a form of communication to him but the link you guys have telepathically. Through it's only connected when you guys are a mile or less from each other.

"They haven't showing up recently..." His words are barely audible to his father as his too embarrassed to be heard complaining about such matter. "Oh? It's so odd that your now obsess with a new person. Ahaha. Have you move on from your first love?" His father takes a bite of a very familiar sweet in front of his son eyes, as he questioned this to him.

"..." Kohaku eyes twitch at the mention of Love-Swan friend. "I don't know..." He sighs. Through something process in his mind just now. "AHHH! THAT'S MY LAST ONE!!" he points at the sweet that his father stolen from his secret box that he swear he hid from his father sight.

"Ahaha. That's what you get for letting your properties free to be stolen by others, my boy. " His father swiftly stop his son from getting vengeance from stealing his food.

"AHHH! DAD, THAT DOESN'T MAKE YOU FREE TO STEAL MY FOOD! ԅ( ͒ ۝ ͒ )ᕤ" he points it out as he tried to attack his father but failed as his father is quick with his steps.

"MINE! IT'S MINE!" As he and his father enter a sparing season with his childish tantrum. His father just laugh at him.

"Ohoho? Trying to test if you can take your old man now...?" His father chuckle at him causing him to be more annoyed plus that his annoyed by something recently.

He look at his father, more like glaring at him as he analyzes his next set of thoughts.

[ Risky Venus ]

He mumbles under his breath, his old man raise a brow at him but isn't able to hear the spell quite well or realize he just cast one.

[ Risky Venus ]

He position himself to run toward his dad to get revenge, he can feel himself showing antenna. His father tilt his head in amusement as he realize something is up.

[ Risky Venus!!]

With zooming speed he was gone from where he was standing and send a punch to his dad gut, making em back away from where his standing, and manage to get the remaining haft of the sweet he clearly own!

"Ahaha! I won!" He chuckle happily as he eat his price with trump. His now visible wings flattering behind him in glee as he enjoy his sweet. Through with this spell, a flower crown appear on top of his head. It bloom when he felt so happy like right now, they all blooming in sunny yellow out of glee.

"Agh... Kids those days..." The head of Oukawa can't help but chuckle as he just get pretty badly just now, he can't help but be proud how his son have to grown up so fast!

" Kohaku... What's that? " His eyes widen as he saw a new feature on his son, like him his daughter notice it too yet doesn't comment to it yet.

"What? I'm not forgiving you for what you did!" The flower unbloom in distasteful at his father but once again bloom when he focus on the taste of the sweet. "Ahaha~ so delicious... ~" he sigh happily as he turn his back on his dad.

"..." His father glance at his son in worry, his eyes narrowed as he realize something. "That 'friend' of yours... Is a fae?" His purple eyes stared down at his stupid young son, who realize that his father is staring at him with gaze he give when doing family work.

"... What?" Kohaku turn to look at his father, he was confused why his father know that. He thought his father is oblivious of what they are.

"Your mangling with a fae this whole time?"He can sense disappointment from his father eyes and the tone of voice he cannot determine the emotions.

"... What's wrong with that?" The flowers quickly wither, it becomes vine like crown, the wither petals slowly burn into flames as it fall into the floor and into nothing. He doesn't understand what's up with father. What is wrong to do so?!

"Your not allowed to meet up with them." His old man decided as he turned his back on his son. Not explaining further into details causing his son to be frustrated from such instructions and orders.

"What? Why!?" He wanted to question his father as the vines slowly grow black thorns. "Why can't I? Are you going to make me lock me up in this place again...? " He take a deep breath as he composed himself, his fist all clenching as he's gritting his teeth in anger.

"You will, if you still meet up with that fae."

" 'that'? " He frown at the distasteful tone he hear from his father voice. " Their name is MC!" He grumble, he cannot believe his father tone would change when he learn mc is a fae!

"MC? a fae told you their name...." His father eyes widen in surprised as he stop on his feet.

" Isn't it normal for people to introduce themselves? Ah? but I wasn't able to do so... They never ask for my name..." He mumble the last part in embarrassment, the thorns slowly have a little pink flower as he thought of them.

"... Huh. This is the same person who defeated you?" He saw an odd smile starting to appear on his father face.

"W-well... They aren't human..." He cover his face in embarrassment, the flowers bloom in pink as he remembers that moment.

"Oho... This is interesting... A fae told you their name. Even when they defeated you..."

" Hey! No need to repeat that... (｡・//ε//・｡)"

" Okii. I'll give you a week to a month for you to bring your fae here, willingly. "

" What? What for? Are you going to sell them out to the main branch? " Kohaku don't like the amusement on his father eyes, his worries can be seen clearly on his face causing his father further more laughter's to come out.

"Ahaha. Your so silly." His father approach him and pat his head, very amuse at his son oblivious or fake innocent.

"Let me see how good they are in the arena." With a smirk on his face, it all drown to kohaku what his father meant.

"... N-no way... I thought ya would not follow that thing!" Even through he was bewailed and cannot believe his father words, variety of different red shades of roses slowly bloom on his flower crown.

"T-the tradition is s-stupid!" He yelled out as he run away, afraid to be seen with his emotion shown in full bloom.

"Ahahaha. Kids those days..." His father laugh as he watch his son run away.

"Father... Is it really ok...? Aren't we ..." The oldest of his daughter finally spoke out. "Hm. I was going to make sure our little core fae would be keep a secret. Not interacting with other faes even our own main branch except for their cousin."

" Then what change your mind?"

" That fae friend of there's is teaching them magic, from what I see. It's a dark fae type..." He mumble. " Ah. That's right. The fae have the same dark fae tendency as my darling wife. So they most be a dark fae ... Kohaku won't be in danger then... Maybe it's just his calling." He sigh happily as he realize his child have found his own spring time.

" I just hope, he won't be stupid through... He already lost one time to a friend of his, in terms of love." He cant help but pity his son obliviousness.

"father is a light fae, but act like a dark fae." His second daughter giggle.

" Ahahaha~ my silly children. You should know, I'm still haft of a human. A human can be cruel and petty creature than a dark fae. Because we are swallowed and can be overwhelmed by our desire and to sin for our happiness." His purple eyes swirl in madness as he chuckle. " My boy should learn to keep his fae in check... Or else some people would steal them away." It be too late when that time comes.

➽───────note────────❥

Risky Venus 3x -> can enhance your speed and your straight at least in the percentage you want too. But it will make your emotion show in full bloom

Also they are training for couple of months before the first part ok.

(if want to be tagged pls comment or Send mail) Tag List : @valeriele3 @yinenovica

#ensemble stars #ensemble stars x reader #enstar x reader #enstar #kohaku oukawa x reader #crystal Hearts AU #Crystal Hearts AU You and me #Oukawa Kohaku x reader #kohaku Oukawa

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booksdaydream · 1 year ago

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The Blind Rider Ch15

FEELINGS

You tilted your head, watching her carefully. Her eyes seemed upset as if she was considering something devastating coming out of something that was once lovely. You took her hand again, “Poppy…” She shook her head strongly.

“I mean, I trusted him. With my situation, then with my secrets. You know, my quest became so much more complicated, and he was still willing to help, that’s when we ended up dealing with that dragon I mentioned. And then...” She started with a sad tone, her eyes welling up in tears again. “I trusted him with my feelings.”

Her tone was quiet and sad, disappointed at herself for feeling that way. You tried keeping a straight face, not to seem surprised she was admitting to liking him more than a friend. Finally. She sighed loudly, her tears drying up as she looked at you with a frown.

“Laugh as much as you want! Of course, you knew. But I’ve come to develop romantic feelings for him.” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

–––––––––––––

*No reproduction of this text allowed without credit*

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crescentsteel · 3 years ago

Note

hi hi hello! i just read ch15 of keeping a secret and i wanted to talk about the ending (and a couple more thingies) if you dont mind !!(also please excuse my grammatical errors, i wrote this at 2am and i was kind of tired)

You two haven’t started anything yet but he can already feel how badly stuck he is in the quicksand of loving you. He will have to actively compose himself so his gaze doesn’t linger, so he doesn’t crave to touch you. He will have to stop himself from saying something that will earn him one of your wisecracks and cheeky smile that he accidentally fell in love with. Why do you have to be so annoying and charming? He’ll be able to handle annoying … No, not really. But he would very much prefer to be annoyed than enamored with someone he cannot have.

i was internally SCREAMING WHILE READING THIS! it was just so good and i feel like the characterisation here is just so on point. this idk it just feels so real and my heart hurts because "he would very much prefer to be annoyed than enamored with 💔someone💔he💔cannot💔 have💔"

okay but to be fair i feel kind of bad for tsukishima. i mean he was being a dick in the earlier chapters but grrrr idk. maybe its me being biased by him being my fav character or just because i (sort of) understand his position and why he acted the way he did (although i still feel like he might have overreacted a bit but that's only because he kind of panicked when y/n told him that she loved him).

He’s never told you before, but he loves you. He’s been sure of it since that night at your doorway where he officially asked you to be his girlfriend. He’s been reserved about it because he wants it to come from you first. As cowardly as that seems, he thinks that that would be best for you.

shut up shut up shut up! that's so cute :(( the fact that kuroo realised he loved y/n the night they got together is just aghhhh i cant even express the emotions im feeling rn! and him not wanting to be the one to say it first because he thinks that she is not ready to hear it just yet is just :((

If it was all up to him, the relationship would’ve moved faster. He’d be asking you to move in already. He is that serious about you. You two are adults with crazy hectic schedules. Living together will make things hella easier. Although he enjoys picking you up from work and taking you to your apartment occasionally, he’d very much prefer if you go home to him every night.

speechless. punching the air. hugging my knees. crying a river. drenching my pillows rn.

he’s so cute i wanna throw a brick at him. I’ve probably had a sappy smile on my face but that’s okay bc this is just so sweet and heartwarming literally shutup. the fact that he doenst want to rush things for her and respects her boundaries and such EVEN THOUGH he wants to get to 'the next level' does things to me.

He doesn’t know if you realize how successful you are with the program because your tiny milestones are initiated to be celebrated by him, not you.

stop this madness. this almost made me tear up and dont ask me why,, i have literally no idea. this is so sickeningly cute i just pictured him celebrating y/n's tiny milestones with her and grrrr >:(

when will it be my turn huh🤨? when🤨?

And until you’ve figured out what you really want, he’ll wait. He won’t add this relationship on your to-do list by telling you his feelings and desire to move in with you because he knows that even though you don’t go home to him, there’s no one else but him.

kuroo tetsurou kiss me challenge. he is so cute i want to hug him and stroke his hair and kiss his forehead and bake him a cake and- sigh :( ~~~~~~ i loved this chapter so much!! but i chose to talk about these paragraphs because i didnt want to ramble a lot or make you read a whole essay on an anonymous ask so yeah. anyway what i wanted to say is that,, i feel really bad for tsukishima because he finally realised his feelings for y/n but the moment he tried to make up with her and maybe try again h found out that she is dating someone else. but honestly?? i REALLYYY dont want kuroo to get hurt and break up with y/n because idk she made up with tsukki and shit because he is such a sweetheart! and hif feeling for her are sincere and genuine and grrrrr >:( it's so complicated all of a sudden :( anyway babe hope youre alright and youre taking good care of yourself! bye bye👋~

I deliberately let this stay in my asks because I loved how long it is! I love it when u guys point out the little thinks you liked because bets believe that each word and phrase is carefully thought out.

ALSO, yes about Tsukishima being panicked that time. I didnt want to spell it out but that's exactly it. His brain just closed and the walls were up all of a sudden hence dick behavior.

But oop, Kuroo is now in the picture and can I just say how much I love writing for him. It just feels natural. Hence, it feels complicated for me too. I immerse myself in my fics and I agree that everythings so complicated hnnn

Take care of yourself too! Hnn. See you next chapter hopefully.

#jeanie answers #keeping a secret ch15

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lavenoon · 2 years ago

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Cryptid Sightings Art Masterlist

If you're new here, go read Cryptid Sightings by @naffeclipse I cannot recommend it enough. I've done a bit of art for it ("a bit"), so here's the list:

*will keep this updated

*spoilers are marked, except for chapter 1 spoilers as I assume that as baseline knowledge

Comics:

Demon behind you. (reveal centered, spoilers for up until but especially ch4)

Steady, Heart (reveal centered)

Y/N's scary thing (reveal centered)

New day (post-reveal centered)

Favorite (post-reveal centered)

We clear the Path (post-reveal centered, spoilers up until ch4)

Bird Bully (post-reveal centered)

Worst Case Scenario (*warnings for blood and death)

Hands (post-reveal centered)

Subtle (and bonus isolated lovestruck boys)

Cryptid Selfie (post-reveal centered)

"Fixed" PJs (ch5 spoilers)

Rude Awakening (ch5 spoilers)

Three names

Cryptid!Y/N

They know. (post-reveal centered, spoilers for ch6)

Clever, heart. (ch7 spoilers)

Oops! Trauma (ch8 spoilers)

Their cryptid loves them. (ch8/ The lost Episode spoilers)

Hello :) (ch9 spoilers)

Promise || Trick (ch10 spoilers)

Help us (ch10 spoilers)

Red (ch11 spoilers) (*warning for blood)

Bait (ch10 spoilers/ tons of theories)

Trust (ch12 spoilers)

Teeth (post reveal centered)

It's not safe (ch13 spoilers)

No more secrets (ch13 spoilers)

Hands 2 Electric Boogaloo

Justice for the detector (vague ch13 spoilers)

No shit, Sherlock (ch14 spoilers)

The gang's all here (ch14 spoilers)

WHY ARE YOU RUNNING? (ch14 spoilers)

Stack the trauma (ch15 spoilers)

Eclipse Demon (ch16 spoilers)

Demon Goo (post-reveal, but no spoilers) (linked to Cinna's addition because it's hilarious)

Eager (post-reveal, but no spoilers)

Into a New Day (ch20 spoilers)

Standalones/ Other:

You take care of the scary things

Stay here (ch2 spoilers)

Creature of the Night

The Guide and the Guardian

Safe

Poor Mothman (ch5 spoilers)

Memes Part 1

Memes Part 2 (ch5 spoilers)

Chapter 5 doodles (you can figure)

All of us @ Naff (spoilers up until ch4)

Help

Cryptid Boys True Form

Henry Emily (spoilers for ch16)

On Care, and Scary Things (ch18 spoilers)

Naff after ch19 (go figure)

Long Time No See (ch19 spoilers)

Mural

Not art but you're already here:

Click here to read along as I scream about my theories for the fic (all spoilers, till chapter 5, by now severely out of date)

#post let luce #masterlist #fnaf sb #fnaf sb au #cryptid sightings #oh my god okay yea that's a bit lmao #me adding the art from before the steady heart comic: technically this is correct but it still feels Wrong(TM)#also for anyone new here apart from the first 3 standalones Y/N basically looks like me #this is not a canon design or anything I just like drawing self inserts

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mightydragoon · 3 years ago

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Thought process behind SOAB and a bit on Amity Park and the Ghosts

Something I found interesting in a lot of Harry Potter and Danny Phantom fics is the lack of focus on Amity Park itself even early on ,we just immediately move to the wizarding world in England and Scotland. I have a time period where I want Danny and Harry to meet. (It’s 3rd year)

Amity Park is weird is not a new thing but the impact of it helped with the concept of the Blur/Glitch/Blip with how I wanted to see this weird ass town and how it makes it impossible for people to be detected for magic in both good and bad ways, just spiralled and evovled.

It was a simple thing and it would make sense but things and ideas just jumped from it and including that was the Witch community in Amity Park which I reckon would be a decent size, epecially in a country like America. All because I thought to myself with how big Amity Park is there was bound to be mroe than a few witches here and there. And with the natural blur in memories and magic, it was bound to mean there was people who lived or currently living in a place where magic couldn’t be detected and MAN did that have potential, especially for a future story and how it could connect with Canon.

But I also had concerns about how Danny himself and how he might appear OOC or Harry and the others. Like with his accident and him being MUCH younger at eleven might seem like a stretch at times.

So I decided for a complete rewrite but I knew rewritting it wasn’t the only issue. It was what I was going to keep, edit or just move on. We all know about Skulker and Technus and those episodes while fun didn’t interest me or I find suited the wider story, not to mention I already have around 103890 words for this fic currently (as of CH15)

It also meant any romantic endeavour will be held back on and rather trauma and other pyschological aspects explored upon.

Because of that it made sense to focus on worldbuilding and character development, which was partially why I wanted to do the rewrite.

I wanted to focus on episodes and build on character developments and story beats that would’ve been interesting to delve into. Like Sidney Pointdexter and Dora, since they had a friendship going in Regin Storm I wanted to incoporate in that early

Or in Sidney’s episode rewrite the conclusion and moral into something a lot more satisfying and fitting. Because of how hypocritcally the original moral was from both Sam and Sidney. Rather “Where do you draw the line.” Seems more appropriate, a warning, how far are you willing to go and where should you draw the line.

I also wanted for the ghosts to have a world beyond just Danny and their own friendships and dynamics going. We haven’t really gotten to that yet but we will soon.

It was one of the things I was working in during my hiatus too, as well as something I’m suprised hasn’t been even considered in regards to Ghosts and Harry Potter but just like the witches the Ghosts will have their own stories and lives to tell, if they lived them.

Along with any other potential Allies in the Zone and while a lot of time the mundane perspective might be ignored I hope I can do a storyline that might cover something a little different.

I also didn’t want Danny to purely just a be a hero, but just a kid trying his damned best to keep existing, keeping a bit more of his inital reluctance and is why he tries to make peace with his demons partially so they’ll leave him alone.

Since I am going to spend some time in Amity Park, I also wanted to show a world beyond Hogwarts and use Amity Park as means to do so with its secret witch community. I have no plans of them overshadowing the main cast, rather I want them to show a different perspective and story beyond what is known. Along with the different ways magic can be seen and viewed.

Like Felicia Corey for instance as a magical leader, she’s not Dumbledore but she is a foil in ways not obvious yet. She honestly could have gone onto greener pastures due to her talent and abilities, but because of her connection and dedication to Amity Park, she stays for the people and her duty there. She just an unoffical secret Mayor who helps people with their day to day business, is in her 70s and is herself helpless depsite her power in the face of many of the ghosts.

Or Ovid Baines just a guy who escaped the war in Britian and is just trying his best to be a music teacher and secretly teach kids in secret about magic, despite the limitations.

Point is I want to enhance but not completely overwhelm or bog down the place with OCs nor creating them simply to make them centre stage. There will be interludes with them but they are there simply to build ideas and introduce future plot elements.

#soab #storms of a butterfly #my fics #my post #not an ask but technically yes #my posts #my work #My writing #Danny Phantom #dp #writing #my writings #harry potter #hp #dp au #dp and hp #crossover #my stuff

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purrincess-chat · 4 years ago

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Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH15

This section has a lot of moving parts, and a few surprises in store for our resident mean girls ;)

Previous First Next AO3

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Chapter 15: Irresistible

Marinette stared across the street with a pensive frown, arms crossed, fingers tapping. She couldn’t bring herself to do it last night, partially because she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. Even now, she still didn’t believe it was real, but as Gabrielle served coffee and sweets to patrons in broad daylight, there was no mistaking it.

Gabrielle had a job.

None of it made sense. Why was someone like her working at a café? Was it punishment? Did her parents want her to get the sense of what the “commoners” had to put up with to keep her humble? HA! As if. Maybe it was a publicity stunt. Rich heiress works relatable day job. Rich people were always trying to seem relatable.

Marinette pursed her lips, equally as confused as she was when her old classmates believed every word out of Lila’s mouth. Something else was going on. Gabrielle wore a polite smile for customers, but it didn’t touch her eyes. She looked… tired. It was the same look on every businessman’s face when they came into the bakery before work—exhaustion from the persistent grind of a monotonous routine. Whatever the reason was, Gabrielle had been there a while.

Mustering up her courage, Marinette took a deep breath and cautiously approached the café. She slipped through the front door, peering around at the other patrons, though Gabrielle was nowhere in sight. Were her eyes playing tricks on her? No, she’d definitely seen her. She was probably in the back. Should Marinette wait? What was she even going to say?

“Can I help you?” a stern-looking man behind the counter asked.

Marinette jumped. “Uh, I was just looking for someone…”

“If you’re not ordering, then get out.” He looked every bit as capable of throwing her out if necessary. Marinette understood why Gabrielle looked so exhausted with a manager this mean.

“I-I’ll have a coffee, please. Two creams, one sugar.” She dug out the correct amount of change and dumped it into his hand.

The man grunted in response before turning over his shoulder. “One up!”

Marinette flicked her gaze to the back door, but it remained shut. The manager sighed, stalking to the back with his hands on his hips.

“I’m just gonna go sit…” Marinette gestured to a table with her thumb.

A few moments later the door opened, and a tall girl slinked over to the coffee machine. Her hair was tucked inside of her cap, pulled low over her face. Marinette craned her neck to watch, but Gabrielle turned her back purposefully to hide her face. When the drink was finished, she placed it on the front counter and attempted to retreat to the back, but the manager cleared his throat, pointing to the table where Marinette sat. She let out a sigh before retrieving the drink from the counter and walking it over herself.

“One coffee.” She set it on the table with more force than necessary and turned over her shoulder quickly. “Enjoy.”

“Wait.” Marinette held out a hand. “Can I get an extra packet of sugar?”

Gabrielle’s shoulders stiffened, hands clenching into fists. She pointed to the supply stand across the room before retreating to the back, mumbling to her manager that she was going to take her break.

It seemed as though she wouldn’t be resurfacing any time soon, so Marinette pulled out her sketchbook and headphones, occasionally sipping her drink. She wasn’t going to let Gabrielle get away without explaining herself, especially after what happened last week. There was more to her than met the eye, and Marinette was going to get to the bottom of it. Gabrielle knew she wasn’t fooling anyone, so it was only a matter of time before she fessed up.

After a while, a green apron appeared at her table, and a perfectly manicured hand refilled her cup from the kettle.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed.

Murderous green eyes glared through Marinette, but she sipped her coffee calmly.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Gabrielle’s grip tightened on the handle, and Marinette had no doubt that it was taking all of her willpower to remain professional, lest she incur the wrath of her surly manager.

“Fine. You caught me. I… work here.” She cringed at the word as if it were painful to say. “Congrats, you want a picture so you can show everyone at school?”

“No.” Marinette shook her head. “I want to know why.”

“None of your business.” Gabrielle snapped. Marinette shrugged, taking a sip of her drink while Gabrielle tapped her foot contemplatively. “Fine, but not out here.”

Marinette yelped when Gabrielle pulled her up, scrambling to grab her things as she was dragged to the back. Kicking open the door to the small employee bathroom, Gabrielle shoved her inside and pulled the door shut behind them. She covered her face, taking a few deep breaths before lowering her hands to glare at Marinette.

“I work here because my family is bankrupt.” She choked on the word, covering her mouth. “My dad’s an idiot, and now his businesses are failing, investors are pulling out. Three generations of wealth is drying up. They told the manager I was 16, so I can help pay for school.”

Marinette’s eyebrows raised in shock, and she gaped in silence as Gabrielle took deep breaths. “How long have you been here?”

“Since the summer.” Gabrielle leaned against the sink. “And I’m probably going to die here one day. Once news gets out, we’re going to be the laughingstock of the town. No one in their right mind will hire me to do anything worthwhile. I’m gonna be stuck serving coffee to poor people forever.”

Marinette almost pointed out that Gabrielle was one of those “poor people” now, but it didn’t seem like the time. Besides, she stood between Marinette and the exit, so goading her wasn’t in Marinette’s best interest if she hoped to get out of there alive.

Even still, seeing how broken and miserable Gabrielle was… Marinette couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. Just because she picked on everyone at school didn’t mean Marinette wished the worst for her. She couldn’t imagine having everything ripped away from her and being forced to work a job she hated. For the first time since moving to her new school, Marinette was the most fortunate one in the room.

Reaching out a reluctant hand, Marinette attempted to touch her shoulder, but Gabrielle shook her off. “I don’t need your pity!” she growled. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. You’re just gonna go run and tell your little do-gooder squad and spread it around school.”

“I won’t,” Marinette promised, and when Gabrielle glared again, she added, “Not if you don’t want me to.”

“Why? I more than deserve it after how I’ve treated you and your stupid little friends,” she said.

“It’s not my secret to tell.” Marinette shrugged.

“Wow, you really are stupid.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes, the hints of a smile tugging the corners of her mouth. “Thanks, I guess. I really don’t deserve that from you.”

“No, you don’t.”

Gabrielle pursed her lips before reaching out to pat Marinette’s shoulder awkwardly. She averted her gaze and turned to the door, though her hand hesitated on the handle.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I come from a very messed up world, and up until a few months ago, I thought that it would always be my world. It’s been hard.” She paused for a moment, then continued, “Ya know, sometimes when I see people like you, I wish it were me. I wish I knew how to be nice.” She opened the door and stalked out, leaving Marinette alone in stunned silence.

“Whoa,” Marinette said. “I thought she was being punished by her parents, but bankrupt.”

“That explains why she backed down so easily whenever you challenged her,” Tikki piped up from her bag.

“I guess it is true when they say that you don’t really know someone.” Marinette winced.

“Maybe you can become her friend and teach her how to be nice. That way she can make new friends in the future,” Tikki suggested, but Marinette let out a mocking laugh.

“Oh no, I got my answer, so I’m going to forget this ever happened. I think it’s what Gabrielle wants. Besides, it’s not my job to go around fixing every broken person I come across. Look how well that went with Lila,” Marinette said pointedly.

“I think you’re wrong about what Gabrielle wants, and while it might not be your job, I think you can’t help yourself,” Tikki said.

“Of course I can. Watch.” Marinette gently pushed her back down with one finger before strutting out of the bathroom and all the way out the front door, though her bravado was short-lived when another familiar set of green eyes flashed her a taunting grin.

Lila.

Marinette froze in her tracks, heart taking off into a sprint. A range of emotions bubbled in her core—anger, fear, sorrow, regret. It had been over a month since Marinette left, and despite her best efforts to move on from her old life, Lila could dig up all of her past hurt with one sinister smile.

She sat at an outside table, patiently sipping her drink. Her posture was relaxed, purposeful, and a bit too smug for Marinette’s liking. This was no coincidence. Lila had been waiting.

“Marinette, it’s good to see you,” she said with a sugary sweet lilt.

“That’s the worst lie you’ve ever told.” Marinette’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”

“Enjoying some coffee.” She lifted her cup as proof. “Now, did I stop here because I saw you walk in? Well, that’s debatable.”

“What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing,” Lila said innocently. “I was just taking a break from a long day with my best friends. They all just love me, especially Alya.”

“Good for you,” Marinette said. She brushed past her, but Lila wasn’t finished.

“Even Adrien has been paying attention to me lately. He’s like a strand of pasta, you know? He thinks he’s so tough when in reality he breaks so easily,” she cooed. “If you put a little heat on him, he’ll bend to your will in minutes.”

Marinette stopped in her tracks, hands clenching into fists. “Adrien knows you’re a liar,” she said. “If you push him, he’ll tell everyone the truth.”

“Maybe, but no one else will believe him if he tries to out me. I think he realizes that. It won’t be long before he gives up and conforms. He really can’t stand to lose all of his friends like you did.” She leaned against her fist with a smirk. “It won’t be long before I take him from you too, Marinette.”

Marinette spun around, angry tears welling in her eyes and a sharp retort on her lips, but Gabrielle appeared to refill Lila’s cup. She surveyed Marinette’s tortured expression before trailing the coffee stream across the table into Lila’s lap.

“Hey, watch it!” Lila shrieked, jumping up.

“Oops!” Gabrielle pressed a hand to her lips as Lila wiped at her romper. “Sorry I’m a little clumsy. I’m still training.”

“Ugh, you’re lucky this time, Marinette, but don’t think that this is over!” Lila growled. She grabbed her bag and stalked off.

Marinette and Gabrielle stood together in silence before one of them inevitably cracked, and they both threw their heads back with laughter.

“Thank you,” Marinette said. “That was… nice of you.”

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Don’t get any ideas. That was for your discretion,” she said.

She turned her head, but not in time to hide her flushed cheeks. Marinette hated to admit it, but Tikki was right. Sometimes she couldn’t help herself.

♪♫♪ Turn Off the Lights ♪♫♪

“Have you thought about what I asked last time?” Adrien asked.

Chloe chewed her sushi slowly, purposefully leaving him in anticipation. He really hated how sadistic she was, especially when it wasted his time. Consorting with Chloe made his skin crawl, but after Marinette called to tell him about her encounter that afternoon, he couldn’t wait any longer. If he knew anything about Chloe, it was that she’d do anything for expensive sushi.

“You really have fallen down quite the rabbit hole, Adrikins,” she said, sounding impressed. “First you threaten to blackmail me if I don’t help you, now you’re bribing me. I always knew I’d rub off on you eventually.”

“Look, this isn’t about petty revenge or whatever you normally do,” he said. “Lila is dangerous, and she needs to be stopped.”

“I seem to recall a time when I asked for your help, and you didn’t come through for me.” Chloe examined another piece of sushi thoughtfully. “If it were anyone else in the world, I’d have laughed in their face when they asked for help. You’re lucky we’ve been friends since we were in diapers, Adrikins.”

“I know I messed up. I’m sorry.” He lowered his gaze. “I learned my lesson.”

“Good. With your silly little conscience out of the way, we can actually get some real work done,” Chloe said. “I do have a few ideas for you, but…”

“But what?”

Chloe leaned against her fist with a wicked grin. “I need to test your loyalty. If you’re going to lie down with the dogs, you can’t be afraid to get dirty, so I need to know you’re capable of breaking the rules.”

A chill prickled his spine, and Adrien shifted in his seat. “What kind of rules?”

“See? This is why I have trust issues, Adrikins.”

He sighed, squaring his shoulders and facing her head-on. “Okay, fine. I’m in.”

“Excellent.” Chloe clapped for her butler, then pulled Adrien to his feet. “Your father thinks you’re helping me with my science homework tonight, but you and I both know Sabrina has already done it. I threatened my way into a party uptown, and you’re coming with me.”

“But-”

“Ah, ah!” Chloe held up a finger. “Prove to me you have what it takes. Break the rules.”

Adrien’s stomach churned as Chloe dragged him down to her waiting limo. When he’d come to her for help, he anticipated having to push his conscience aside to get what he wanted. To make a deal with the devil, he had to be willing to sell his soul, and sneaking out to a party across town was page one of their contract. It would all be worth it in the end. For Marinette’s happiness, he’d sell his soul a thousand times. He was already clutching the pen—Chloe just needed to show him where to sign.

♪♫♪ Pretty Places ♪♫♪

“Marinette! There’s someone here to see you!” Her mother called up the stairs that evening.

Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed. Who would visit at this hour? She wasn’t expecting anyone. Adrien had piano practice. Macy had vocal lessons. Eliott and Martin were having some “guy time” whatever that meant. All of her friends were previously engaged, so who was waiting for her downstairs?

She set aside her knitting and slowly made her way to the living room. Whoever she expected to find didn’t compare at all to the tall red-head standing in the doorway.

“Gabrielle?” Her jaw dropped. “What are-”

“Is your room up here?” She pointed, quirking a perfectly-plucked brow. When Marinette nodded, Gabrielle took her wrist and dragged her back up the stairs.

“What-” Marinette gaped as Gabrielle shut the trap door and dusted her hands. “What is happening?”

“Get dressed.” Gabrielle ordered, but when Marinette remained frozen, she rolled her eyes and added, “We’re going to a party. Get dressed.”

“We’re what?” Marinette asked as Gabrielle threw her closet open and began digging through the rack.

“The son of one of my dad’s golfing buddies is throwing a party at their mansion tonight, and we’re going,” Gabrielle said. She sifted through hangers until she found a shirt and tossed it at Marinette. “Put that on.”

“Wh-”

“Do you know how to put on a shirt? Or does your mom dress you every morning?” Gabrielle looked her up and down.

“I know how to put on a shirt,” Marinette replied matter-of-factly. “I’m just confused. Are we friends now or-?”

“Gross, no.” Gabrielle wrinkled her nose and moved over to the dresser as Marinette turned her back to change.

“So, if we’re not friends, then what are we?” she asked as Gabrielle examined a pair of black jeans.

She lowered them, a thoughtful expression on her face before she shrugged and tossed them at Marinette too. “I can’t party with my old crew without risking them finding out my secret, but you on the other hand are stupid enough not to tell anyone despite how delicious it would be to watch my world crumble after I was so mean to you,” she explained while rummaging through Marinette’s shoes. “So, I’m settling for you tonight.”

“Thanks?” Marinette tilted her head to the side. “I think.”

“Where’s your makeup?” Gabrielle asked. When Marinette retrieved a small pouch from her vanity, Gabrielle’s eyes narrowed. “Ugh, this is all you have?”

“I don’t wear a lot of makeup,” Marinette said defensively.

“If I weren’t broke, I’d buy you a proper makeup collection, but we’ll work with what we have for now.” She tucked it under her arm. “Come on. We’ll do your makeup in the car.”

“We- wait!” Marinette called as Gabrielle descended the stairs.

“Hi, sweetie, is this one of your new friends?” her mom asked as Marinette scrambled after Gabrielle. They exchanged glances, and Gabrielle gave her a stern look.

“Uh, yeah. She’s one of my classmates,” Marinette said.

“Gabrielle Burton, it’s nice to meet you, madame,” she said in the politest tone Marinette had ever heard from her. “We’re meeting up with a group of friends to see a movie. Do you mind if I steal her for the evening? My driver will bring her home afterward.”

“Of course, you girls go have fun,” her mom said.

Gabrielle didn’t wait for Marinette to respond before taking her wrist.

“Uh, bye, mom!” Marinette called over her shoulder.

Marinette blinked a few times as Gabrielle shoved her into the back of a town car, and the driver headed uptown. Gabrielle turned her chin with one finger, shaking the foundation bottle in the other hand.

“Close your eyes,” she ordered. When Marinette hesitated, she added, “Relax, I’m not going to make you look ugly. I’d never be seen arriving with someone who looks like a wannabe beauty guru.”

Marinette pursed her lips but relented, allowing Gabrielle to make her over on the drive. Several times Gabrielle grumbled about her limited options, stating several expensive products that would have worked better. Nevertheless, she attained some level of satisfaction because she instructed Marinette to open her eyes and look in the mirror.

“Wow.” Marinette’s eyebrows raised. Her makeup never looked half this good when she did it herself—a skilled hand made all the difference. She peeked up at Gabrielle applying her own lip gloss and pursed her lips. “So, what kind of party is this?”

“Relax, goody-two-shoes, the most exciting thing at this party is wine. My parents don’t let me go to trashy parties.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes, removing her large trench coat to reveal a sparkly black dress with mesh cutouts along the waist. “Just try not to act too lowbrow, okay? Don’t embarrass me.”

“I’ll do my best?” Marinette said as they pulled up to the front steps.

“Great.” Gabrielle tossed her compact into her purse and kicked open the door. “Oh, and just because we’re arriving together does not mean you are allowed to socialize with me here. Don’t hang off me like a sad little koala. Go dance and have fun with other people.”

“Right. Wouldn’t want anyone to think we’re friends,” Marinette said.

“Exactly. I’m so glad you understand.”

Marinette took in the towering mansion with wide eyes, twirling around in the foyer to catch all of the detail work. She’d been hanging out with her new friends for almost a month, but she still wasn’t quite used to such luxurious mansions.

“Cut it out! You act like you’ve never seen crown molding before,” Gabrielle hissed. She closed Marinette’s jaw with her finger. “Just be normal.”

“Yes, because this is so normal.” Marinette gestured to the marble statue fountain in the middle of the foyer, and Gabrielle rolled her eyes.

“It is for these people. Now get away from me.” She spun Marinette around and pushed her toward the sitting room where various groups of people were chatting over hor d’oeurves before retreating to the living room dancefloor.

Marinette stumbled several feet, bumping into someone’s back and falling onto her butt.

“Sorry!” She rubbed her head, but the warm green eyes staring down at her held no contempt. “Adrien?”

#mdcsp #mdcspr #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist remix #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist #my writing #cats ocs

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berenwrites · 2 years ago

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Whole New Us Ch22 - Stranger Things - Steddie

Whole New Us: Trauma Bonded and Beyond

Also on AO3 | Or here CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4 | CH5 | CH6 | CH7 | CH8 | CH9 | CH10 | CH11 | CH12 | CH13 | CH14 | CH15 | CH16 | CH17 | CH18 | CH19 | CH20 | CH21 | CH22 | CH23 | CH24 | CH25 (Mature) | CH25 (Fade to black) COMPLETE

Summary: Steve has been ignoring his own problems, he’s been busy. They’ve all been busy, preoccupied with fixing everything that was broken. Vecna has been defeated, but the Upside Down is still there, and the gates are not completely closed even though Hawkins has almost returned to normal. It’s been a couple of months and the aftereffects of Steve’s encounter with the demobats is about to come back to bite him. However, it also brings some unexpected hope.

Pairing: steddie (Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson)

Rating: Teen (with mature content in later chapters)

Chapter 22. Kind of Weird

It was weird having his parents in the house. For the first time in a very long time, not exactly bad weird, but still strange enough that Steve was on edge. The way his dad shut himself in his office with coffee and toast was not overly unusual. His dad had been a workaholic for years, so it was normal behaviour. His mom, on the other hand, was very much present.

She had a surprisingly lively debate with Dustin over breakfast about why Star Trek was far superior to Star Wars. Steve hadn’t even been aware his mother knew what Star Trek was, let alone that she had apparently been a fan when she was younger. From the way she actually knew all the characters’ names, Steve suspected his mom might have even been a closet nerd. It blew his mind.

He also realised he was never ever going to be allowed to forget it, no matter how long his parents decided to stay in town.

The way all the kids lined up to help load the dishwasher once breakfast was done made him feel a bit like a proud parent himself. Not that he was ever going to admit to his mother he usually had to cajole them into it. The living room was also returned to a tidy state remarkably quickly.

Nancy showed up soon after breakfast to pick up Mike and Lucas, which left Steve to drop off Dustin, Max, El and Will. It was all very civilised, but it didn’t stop Steve speeding on the way home because he had once again left Robin and Eddie alone with his parents.

“It’s like a compulsion,” were the words he heard from Robin after making it back through the door.

“Yeah, Steve can’t help himself when someone needs something,” Eddie agreed. “Did he ever tell you how he first met Dustin?”

“No, I don’t believe he did,” his mom replied while he followed their voices to the kitchen.

“Helping to look for his lost cat,” Robin supplied. “The way Steve tells it, he drove Dustin around for a bit before they took a little walk. The way Dustin tells it, they were out there for hours.”

“Ended up at the junkyard with Lucas and Max, where Steve fought off jacked-up dogs with his baseball bat to keep the kids safe,” Eddie added.

“It was Jonathan’s bat originally,” Steve said, feeling he had listened long enough.

His mom looked up from where she was sitting at the small kitchen table with Robin and Eddie.

“Everyone home safe?” she asked.

“Well until Dustin comes up with some new hairbrained experiment, yes,” he replied. “Dustin’s mom sent some of her secret recipe peanut bars,” he added, placing the Tupperware box on the counter.

“Oh my god, gimmie,” Eddie said, making grabby hands.

“You only just had breakfast,” Steve pointed out.

“You have tasted those bars, right?” Eddie insisted.

“He has a point,” Robin agreed.

Steve rolled his eyes and moved the box to the table.

“If either of you decide to jump in the pool fully clothed because you are on a sugar rush, I am not rescuing you,” he said.

Eddie turned to look at Robin with his eyebrows raised.

“It was one time,” she protested, “and I didn’t jump in, I fell in. It was an accident.”

Steve could tell his mom was trying not to laugh.

“And don’t lie in front of your mother, Steven, you’d be in there like a shot dragging my sorry ass out,” Robin said as she stole one of the bars.

“That’s it, I’m locking the back door,” he replied, and his mother did finally let out a quiet laugh.

He noticed her smile turn fond when Eddie broke one of the bars in half and passed part of it to him. It wasn’t like he could refuse after that.

“You really should try one,” he told him mom as he sat down. “I’m not sure what Claudia puts in them, but they’re almost as good as Grandma Lucy’s cookies.”

“High praise indeed,” his mom said, “but I unfortunately am no longer close to twenty and my blood sugar would hate me. If there are any left, I will try one later.”

“Do you have a safe?” Eddie asked with a grin. “I think that might be the only way to stop Robin eating the lot.”

“Hey,” Robin complained, “you’re one to talk Mr I-can-eat-an-entire-box-of-cereal-in-one-sitting.”

Steve snorted a laugh as his best friend and his boyfriend continued to bicker. That his mother was watching them with a slightly bemused, but pleased expression on her face was strange, but it was also good. He let himself enjoy it while it lasted, even if the voice of doubt in the back of his mind was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

~*~

It was late when Steve and Eddie got back after Steve’s shift at Family Video. He’d been on closing and since Robin had not been on with him, Eddie had insisted on accompanying him. It had become something of a habit. Eddie was no longer going full incognito, but it seemed as if Hawkins was beginning to mostly ignore him once more. Not that Steve was on board with people ignoring Eddie, but it was much better than the alternative.

Trying to eat one of the customers because they were nasty to Eddie would definitely get him fired.

“Hi, Mom,” he said as he put his keys in the bowl by the door.

His mother was watching TV while also apparently reading a book. Now that he thought about it, he remembered her doing it a lot when he was small.

“Hello, Darling,” his mom said, turning and giving him a smile. “How was work?”

“I only had to explain twice that movies that are still in theatres aren’t available to rent, so pretty good,” he replied.

“I still say you should just give them a random tape from a shelf every time they ask,” Eddie added. “They probably don’t even know what they’re asking about.”

“And I’ve explained I kind of want to keep my job,” Steve replied. “Coffee?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Eddie replied.

Steve had no idea how Eddie did it, but he could drink coffee last thing at night and still sleep. Steve was more of a hot chocolate kind of guy. He had enough trouble with interrupted sleep that he did not need caffeine in the mix.

“Mom, can I get you anything?” he asked.

“I’m good,” his mom replied.

Heading into the kitchen, he flipped on the light and started on the drinks. By the time he made it back into the living room, Eddie was sitting on the couch near his mom, and they appeared to be talking about the book she had been reading. He handed Eddie a mug while doing his best to stifle a yawn.

Apparently, he didn’t do a very good job, because Eddie noticed instantly.

“Okay, bed for you,” Eddie said.

Steve gave his boyfriend his best bitchy stare for that.

“Do not make me break out your full name,” Eddie threatened.

“You don’t even know my full name,” Steve pointed out.

“Well then don’t make me subject your lovely mother to my truly terrible guesses,” Eddie said with a sweet smile. “Last night was bad for you and you’ve been on the go all day.”

“I slept all the way through last night,” he countered.

“Kinda,” was all Eddie said.

That wasn’t exactly a settling response. Steve did not remember waking up the previous night. He didn’t even remember any dreams, but Eddie seemed to be suggesting that wasn’t the case.

The fact was, he had been about to suggest they head upstairs anyway, but he was nothing if not stubborn. He put one hand on his hip.

“Steven Au….”

“Okay, okay,” he surrendered before Eddie could get going. “But only because I do not want my mom mentally scarred by whatever you come up with.”

His mom was being absolutely no help, just sitting there smiling demurely. He was beginning to think his mom might have a very wicked sense of humour that he had never been able to appreciate when he was younger and that had been hidden from him for his teenage years.

“Impressive,” his mom said. “I’m afraid Steve gets his stubborn side from me. There was this one time…”

“Mom!” he protested.

She smiled sweetly at him.

“I’m going, I’m going,” he said and headed for the stairs with his hot chocolate in hand. “Good night, mom,” he added as he reached the stairs with Eddie close behind him.

“Good night, Darling,” his mom replied.

On the landing, Eddie paused, looking over at the door to the room that was technically his, but that he’d never actually slept in.

“Yeah, no,” Steve said without having to think about it, “I do not plan on waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night.”

Eddie still had nightmares and Steve had gained a whole new set to go with his old ones, sleeping alone was like playing Russian roulette with only one chamber empty in the gun. They might have to forgo the cuddling that had become something of a thing, while his parents were home, but he needed Eddie close. He wasn’t up for that battle any time soon. Really, he never wanted to have that battle at all if he could help it. Given how Eddie put up no fight at all, he was sure they were on the same page.

What he hadn’t anticipated was having his hot chocolate taken away and put on the side, before being crowded up against the wall next to the bathroom as soon as his bedroom door closed behind them.

“Been dying to do this all day,” Eddie said quietly before diving in for a kiss.

The moment Eddie’s lips touched his, Steve melted into the touch. He hadn’t been aware of how much tension he was carrying around until it flowed away. Wrapping his arms around Eddie, he pulled him closer and kissed back for all he was worth. Not that either of them dared to try for tongues. They’d had a lot of practice and they were quite good at it, but it was still too much of a risk. If blood became involved, they would be loud, very loud.

When Eddie broke away and started kissing across his chin and down his neck, he put his head back and just enjoyed it. Sometimes he wondered how he had ever lived without this. Nothing in the world could ever make him give it up as long as Eddie would have him.

End of Chapter 22

Chapter 23

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