#temporary mcd

[steddielations]

“Evening, sir.”

It’s the Harrington boy. Again.

“I told you, son, it’s Wayne,” he manages a smile, harder to do these days, like chipping it out of cement and dusting it off. But he gets it done.

Steve doesn’t have the Henderson boy with him today, that’s a first.

“Where’s the curly one?” He steps aside, letting Steve into the trailer door, more rickety than before. No money left to fix it after repairing the bulk of the earthquake damage.

“Dustin? He doesn’t wanna watch the game, and trust me, you don’t wanna listen to that kid complaining the whole time,” Steve walks by, sorta chuckling to himself, “I always miss the replay ‘cause he makes me change the channel to those D&D cartoons during the commercials, just like—”

He stops in front of the couch, looking over his shoulder at Wayne like he’s afraid he messed up somehow. Wayne noticed that look often from him, less and less, but still often. All that confidence he carries can drop on a dime, sorta reminded him of—

“Like Ed?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“S’alright. I don’t mind talking about him if you want,” Wayne manages another concrete smile, but he means it. Steve always waits for him to bring up Eddie first, like he doesn’t want to remind him if it ain’t on his mind, but Wayne likes to be reminded. It’s nice to feel like he’s not the only one missing him. “But the game was yesterday and y’know the cable’s out.”

“Yep, got it covered. I uh, I taped it,” Steve fishes a VHS tape from his back pocket. Fancy. Wayne would worry about him using that for his sake, but he has a feeling Steve’s folks aren’t around enough to notice.

“The Colts win?”

Steve flips the tape around, “Haven’t watched it, so we can bet on it if you’re feeling lucky.”

It doesn’t feel so dry and heavy when Wayne laughs a bit then, waving Steve to go ahead and start up the TV. He already caught the game on the radio, but he bets on the Colts anyway. Loser’s supposed to do the dishes after they scrounge together some soup, but Steve does them anyway.

Wayne would make a stink about it but he can tell Steve just wants to help, to feel like he’s helping. Same thing when the Henderson boy comes around to see him, wanting to hear all the stories, even the scary ones. So Wayne doesn’t mind letting Eddie’s friends feel like they’re helping him.

His nephew didn’t have many friends. Real, cover-your-six kinda friends. The boys he played his music with, they’ve come by a couple times, Wayne always liked Jeff despite the racket. That older fella that’s doing time now, Wayne wasn’t too fond of. And some of Eddie’s dungeon buddies he talked about were the only few.

Now, casual acquaintances? Anybody who didn’t have anywhere else to sit when he had an empty spot at his table? Sure, Eddie had those in spades.

His boy was good at that, putting on a good old show for his crowd, on a stage to keep his distance. That damn Al did him in good, never could trust easily, having his old man pop up and drag him into his mess before he took off again. And Eddie’s poor momma would’ve done right by him, if she hadn’t gotten sick so young.

Took Wayne a long time to get Eddie to depend on him, to trust this was his place to stay and he didn’t have to earn it, Wayne wasn’t just filling his head to scheme something out of him.

Love ain’t a transaction that way. He wasn’t ever any good at saying it, but he tried to show Eddie the best he could.

His boy though, always carried a debt with him. Like he owed Wayne something for taking him in, had to graduate quick and make it outta here, do something with the better life he gave him. Al dug him in so deep, Eddie stayed roped into whatever his latest scheme was (the cars, the dealing, the gambling, thank God Eddie wasn’t there when the goddamn robbery went wrong, 25 to life) like maybe it’d be enough to keep him from running off again.

The odds have never been in favor of people like them, poor folk in a town that’s stuck in its ways, where everybody’s just like their old man, but Al made his choices and Wayne made his. Rest their mother’s soul, she did her best. Part of Wayne was relieved when Al got locked up, at least Wayne had a better chance of keeping Eddie from going down the same path, try to raise him right.

Being a Munson wasn’t a crime. He didn’t owe a darn thing to anybody. Eddie could graduate at his own pace, play whatever games and music he wanted, dress however, that didn’t mean he was up to no good. And a lot of boys get into dealing for a little easy extra money around here, he was gonna grow out of that just like Wayne did.

It worked until all this mess.

That’s why Eddie ran off after what happened to the poor Cunningham girl. He gets spooked when something goes wrong, like it’ll be the last straw he can’t make up for so he runs off. Like the first time he didn’t make senior year, went and hid out with that Rick fella that Wayne never did like, got Eddie deep into that business he tried to keep a secret.

‘Course Wayne knew. He knows exactly what and where his boy hides. If those damn cops weren’t tailing him, he would’ve gone straight to get him.

That was before he knew it would turn into all of this. Now he wishes he would’ve done it anyway. Gone right to Eddie, told him it wasn’t his fault that everything got all turned upside down. Told him he knew he was innocent right from the get-go, and got him away from this rotten old town.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t go get his boy.

So now he’s just trying to be there for Eddie’s boys, since he can’t.

“You have a night shift tonight right? Gonna put on a pot of coffee,” Steve says once he’s finished up the dishes.

Wayne hums. There’s usually more noise going on during these visits. Steve’s still alright at carrying on, even without the Henderson boy’s chatter to fill any gaps.

It was strange, the first time the two of them showed up. Wayne knew Eddie was close with Dustin, but he didn’t have a clue that he was chumming it up with the Harrington boy. Just don’t seem like the same type of company. He might not believe it if it weren’t so obvious that Steve cared about his boy. He suspected before, but now with Steve showing up here alone, he knows.

Steve misses Eddie in a different sorta way than Dustin.

“No cream or sugar, right?” Steve looks humored by that as he passes the mug of black coffee to him, “How are you related to Eddie again?”

Wayne’s mouth turns upward, remembering his nephew’s god awful sweet tooth. He picked up a box of Honeycombs the other day in the store out of habit. “Just happened to be standin’ there when they beamed him down.”

That gets a good chuckle out of Steve. Nothing wistful weighing it down and Wayne’s glad, watching Steve pour himself a cup of coffee too.

Then bitter-sweetness swirls in his chest, seeing the mug that Steve chose for himself. Must’ve dug it out from one of the boxes Wayne hadn’t hung back on the walls yet. The earthquake did a number on his collection. That Garfield one was the only one he’d gotten around to gluing back together.

“What is it?” Steve asks, cup paused at his mouth.

“Ah nothin’ just,” Wayne waves it off, “That’s the mug Ed always used.”

“Oh, I can use a diff—”

“Nah, nah go ‘head. It’s fine.”

Unconvinced, Steve takes a wary sip.

Mostly these days, Wayne just feels like a watch without a ticker, a chest with nothing beating inside it. He can’t name the feeling he has at seeing Eddie’s old mug being used by someone else, but at least it’s something.

“Y’know, he used to put everything in that sucker. Soda pop, soup, cereal, you name it,” Wayne shakes his head, mouth twitching into a smile, “I’d have to wrestle it away from him just to give it a good washing. It’s well loved, alright. Leaks now.”

As if on cue, Steve has to grab a napkin to sit underneath it.

Wayne lets out an amused hum, “He uh— Didn’t have much stability ‘fore he came to live with me, so he’d get real attached to things like that.”

Carried around a stuffed dragon they picked up at a garage sale ‘til Wayne couldn’t sew the wings back on anymore. Never wanted to throw anything away. Got real anxious about Wayne going to work sometimes, even when he was too old for a sitter. Held onto him saying “Stay home just today, Dad, please.” Which, he didn’t mind Eddie calling him that. It always softened him up, made him give in. Wishes now that he’d told Eddie upfront. Maybe he never would’ve stopped.

“Thought for sure he’d marry that damn guitar one day.”

Steve nearly sputters his coffee, laughing at that, “Yeah, those two are made for each other.”

It’s nice, seeing the way that story lit Steve up. Sorta like his boy can still make someone happy. Hurts like hell that he ain’t here to do it himself, but Wayne was always good at telling stories. That’s where Eddie learned it from.

“I’m uh,” Steve deflates after a minute, looking down at the mug, “God, I’m just really sorry, Wayne.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry too, Steve,” he says, because, well.

Wayne gets the feeling that his boy was Steve’s boy too.

Read the rest on Ao3

[epnona-the-wisp]

Sage’s story! This entry is slightly less tragic than normal as well as creepier than I remembered

[hornedmagpieart]

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Call of Duty (Video Games) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: John "Soap" MacTavish & Nikolai Characters: John "Soap" MacTavish, Nikolai (Call of Duty: Modern Warfare), Original Background Character(s) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Military Inaccuracies, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death, Temporary Character Death, Blood and Injury, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Author Has Never Played Call Of Duty, No Beta We Die Like OG 141, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Vampire Nikolai (Call of Duty) Series: Part 2 of All We Have Is Time Summary:

This was their last stop before finally returning home to base. Soap was always surprised by how much one could long for the mediocre facilities of their barracks, but he did. He always did.

Despite everything, he was happy with his life. He'd been working his ass off for the last couple of years to get here. Enlisting the day he turned 18, working hard and pushing himself in every part of his life. Reaching his goal of becoming a demolitions expert, and now, after realizing he has an affinity for the sniper rifle as well, finally being able to do this out in the field. Watching over his squad, keeping them safe. It was bittersweet knowing that he might be leaving them soon. As soon as he got back he was going to start the process of trying to join the SAS, and if everything went according to plan he could be getting a transfer in a couple of months.

-- or --

Soap is young and inexperienced, and the simple recon mission doesn't end well

[strawberryspence]

The Harrington mansion is always dark.

Steve never really noticed it when he was growing up, not until he started dropping off Dustin and the kids. No matter how late it is, there's always a light on the porch for them. Like a sign that someone is waiting home for them.

It doesn't matter if his parents are out of town or not, it's always dark in the house. His parents doesn't care enough to leave a light for him. He won't leave it on for himself, because that feels pathetic.

Steve forgets about it, there's so many other things he should worry about.

He forgets about it until he starts dating Eddie Munson the summer of '85. Steve thanks the blue Scoops Ahoy shorts and the Corroded Coffin members for letting Eddie come in to the shop everyday for the whole summer until they finally start dating and making out at the parking lot.

Eddie starts hanging around Steve's house. Every night that Eddie stays at his house, Steve comes home to a house with a light on the porch.

The first time he notices it, he sat on his car crying for 30 minutes before finally caving in and entering the house. When Steve tells Eddie about this, Eddie visibly melts, scooping him into a hug before saying, "Oh sweetheart, as long as I am here, there's always going to be a light left on for you."

It's Eddie that makes the house a home. Steve doesn't care if he's living in a cardboard box, as long as he's with Eddie, it's home.

And that's why Steve's been standing in front of the dark porch for almost an hour now. Nancy's going to pick him up in a few more hours, so they can go back to the hospital and watch Max and Dustin.

But he can't— can't push himself to enter the dark house, knowing that Eddie's light and warmth is never going to touch it again. There's still blood stained on his hands, blood from when he had to leave Eddie's lifeless body in the Upside Down.

Steve wonders— morbidly— if Wayne has a light on in the trailer porch, waiting for a son that's never coming home.

Maybe it's weariness or maybe Steve just wants to peek inside and see if there's still a hint of Eddie floating around the house. Steve lets himself in the dark house, sliding down against the door as he sobs into Eddie's battle vest.

Outside, the porch light flickers. It blinks three times.

Rapidly. Slowly. Rapidly.

The flickering stops and the light stays on.

Because as long as Eddie Munson's alive, there's always going to be a light left on for Steve Harrington.

[lightasthesun]

I've been LOVING going through the codywan kiss and sleep bingo and all its happy domesticity and silly miscommunications and BEAUTIFULLY crafted storylines however I have now reached a point of detoxification. I need some real good codywan ANGST.

[into-my-cringe-era-letsgoo]

First Meetings

haha I meant to post this with a small snippet of a story but then I realized I'm terrible at writing...

But the basis of that little snippet was that Nana was having a hard time having customers for her little bakery/market stall because Mei'fwa racism (also added on the fact that I want to have Ru'uan and Tu'la to have a rivalry with eachother. They haven't liked each other in years.) And then Aphmau comes up because she smells something really good, stumbles upon Nana and buys a tasty Peach Bread. In here, Nana would introduce herself as Ms. Momoko, kind of like a stage name.

[serickswrites]

Make Me Your Villain XXVI

Master list link here (includes chapter links, summary, and character bios)

Warnings: unconsciousness, restraints, blood, wounds, gore, cpr, mcd, grief

As the light faded around Nova and Jude, a shout from the crowd gathered outside of Sluagh erupted. Nova smiled grimly as she stared at Jude’s unconscious form at her feet. She had won. They had won. She sagged with relief as chaos erupted around her.

She could hear the sounds of civilians bursting through Sluagh’s doors. Heard the sounds of Henry talking to the civilians as they arrived. Heard the sound of cuffs fastening around Jude’s wrist. They had won.

“He won’t be hurting anyone anymore where he’s going,” the chief of police said as he and a group of civilian policeman carted Jude away. Jude lay still and unmoving as they cuffed him to both rails of the gurney. “Thank you for saving us, ma’am.”

Henry nodded, his good hand gripping Nova’s shoulder tightly. “Just get him out of here before he wakes up. Or he won’t be waking up.”

The chief nodded. “Really, thank you. Both of you for everything. Thanks to Liam,” the chief paused, and looked to Nova, “I am sorry.”

Nova rose to her feet in an instant. Liam. She slipped on the tile as she raced out of Sluagh. “Where are you going?” Henry called after her. He hurried to catch up.

“Where is he? Where is he, Henry?” Nova didn’t look back. She had to get to Liam.

Henry caught up. “I’ll go with you. He’s…he’s in the town square.”

Not far from here at all. Nova didn’t stop running until she could see the small crowd gathered around the stage at the base of the flag pole. Didn’t stop until they turned and stared at her. The mayor stepped forward. “He was always trying to protect us. We didn’t know. We believed. Oh God, we believed the monster. Liam is the true hero. I am so sorry for you loss, both of you.”

Nova elbowed past the mayor, not caring that she knocked the woman to the ground. “He’s not dead. I can save him. I can save him.” She scrambled to release the lever on the flag pole. Her fingers shook and trembled with exhaustion.

As she growled her frustration for a third time, a hand appeared on hers. She looked up to see the man with the red hair that Liam had saved all those years ago. “Let me help,” he said gently.

Nova stepped back, as she stared up at Liam’s body. His broken, bloody body. “Hang on, baby,” she murmured. Henry and three other people Liam had saved joined Nova on the stage and carefully they lowered his body to the ground. Henry choked back a sob as they gently laid Liam down. His pale, empty eyes stared up at nothing. His blood was still wet on the corner of his lips, the time freeze Jude had placed on him only just ending. The cavernous hole in his chest was larger than Nova remembered, deeper than she thought. She tried scan his pain, to scan how many injuries she had to heal once she brought him back, but she couldn’t find anything. She just had to get him breathing again. Then she could scan him once more.

This wasn’t real. He wasn’t dead. She could save him. She quickly cut away the tape from his wrists, freeing his hands. “Come on, baby, come on.” Nova began to glow again. “Come back to me. Please, come back to me.”

Nova desperately tried to shove her power into him. “Come on, baby, come on,” she repeated, trying to shove her light into anywhere she could. She ignored the tears streaming down her face. Ignored the crowd that had gathered around her. She only had eyes for Liam.

“Please, please, please,” she begged. She desperately tried to heal the hole in his chest, to reknit the skin, and to heal his destroyed heart. She desperately tried to call his soul back. “Come back to me, please, Liam. Please, God, let him come back to me.”

Liam’s words from yesterday came back to her. Heartbeat. She needed a heart beat. “Start compressions,” she ordered Henry.

Henry looked at her, tears filling his own eyes. “Nova, I can’t. Nova, I—“

“Then get out of here if you aren’t going to help me,” Nova roared angrily as she placed her hands over the hole in Liam’s chest. Her fingers barely spanned the hole’s entirety. She gave one tentative pump, crying out as his, somehow still warm, blood flowed beneath her hand. “Please. Please. Please.”

Henry didn’t leave. None of the watching crowd did. But none of them tried to help her. Why was no one helping her? “Nova,” Henry’s gentle voice came.

“Don’t say it,” she said as she glowed again. Surely this counted. Surely her powers would work now. But as she tried to shove her powers in once again, tried to scan where needed to be healed, and she came up blank, Nova froze. No. No. NO. NONONONONO.

“I think it’s truly impossible to heal the dead. Death is the final thing that claims us all. Your power is life and to bring life. But you cannot bring life back where there is none.”

“Nova, you said it yourself,” Henry said slowly, his hand squeezing her shoulder.

“Jude took his heart,” she said as it felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest.

“He’s gone, Nova,” Henry said as he knelt down next to her. “Liam is dead.”

Liam is dead. Liam is dead. LIAM IS DEAD.

Nova wasn’t sure if she was screaming in her head or out loud. All she knew is that she was screaming. She threw herself across Liam’s chest, not caring if she was covered in blood, or if other people were there. She didn’t care about anything anymore because Liam was dead.

She didn’t know how long she lay there, sobbing on Liam. She held his face, stroked his hair. Did anything to try and coax him back to her. Did anything but close his eyes. She couldn’t bear to close his eyes. Because this was the last time she would stare into them.

But he wasn’t there. They were just eyes. Eyes of the palest blue. Eyes the color of the sky at dawn. But they weren’t his eyes anymore. Because Liam was dead.

Tags: @dutifullykrispyland@jesssmolfur@parad0xical2@st0rmm@keeper-of-all-the-random-things

@pigeonwhumps@gala1981@allylovessweets@whumpitywhumpwhump @giggly-evil-puppy

@cravesunconditionallove @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @ay5ksal @celestialsoyeon

@hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @knightinbatteredarmor @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@whump-me-harder

[hp-mcd-fest]

what's up 2023

This year's timeline:

Prompting: June 1 to June 24 Claiming: July 1 to August 25 Submissions due: August 30 Posting begins: September 1

kill you soon, darlings 💜💀💚

[vylad-romeaves-autism]

I want to go into a bit more detail about some of the things me and @whorencezvahl have talked about for Vincent in our rewrite because we’ve accidentally made him a semi major supporting character to the main plot of our rewrite. So be prepared for rambling about Vincent that may or may not make complete sense, none of this is going to be in complete timeline order for our rewrite but it’s all some of the more important things. Warning again, this is going to be long rambles about our rewrite Vincent. Also some of this is just going to be brief explanations, so feel free to send an ask if you want to learn more

☆Like mentioned previously, Vincent was previously once Shad’s kind of right hand man and the first person Shad ever turned into a shadow knight. Shadow knights originally in our rewrite was kind of a way that Shad would be able to keep his friends alive/keep them around longer(both of the first two shadow knights he created ended up gaining their immortality, though Vincent is the only one we’ve fleshed out) Vincent at some point has met all of the other Divine Warriors, but doesn’t know them all as personally as he knew Shad.

★Vincent at one point did end up pulling away from Shad (as of writing this we haven’t talked about when or what caused it, we jump around timeline wise a lot so somethings do not have answers right now) and ended up going with his brother, who ended up becoming the first lord of Meteli. Stuff happens and Vincent ends up killing his brother and gaining his immortality, Vincent then chooses to stay in Meteli basically as long as there is a Meteli. He basically vows to always makes sure Meteli is fine and nothing bad happens to it, but he refuses to become a lord.

☆It’s not an entirely well known thing that Vincent is an immortal Shadow Knight, even through he’s been in Meteli since it was founded. He’s kind of in a sense more kept a secret. The current lord will obviously know that he’s an immortal shadow knight, but majority of the village doesn’t know. He has a good bit of say regarding the village, but he’s not fully in charge. He has full veto power regarding who becomes the next lord, so if he doesn’t think the person would be good to be lord then they won’t be. And most lords just know not to argue with him about that.

★Now actually onto stuff that is more relevant to rewrite. Due to him just being concerned about keeping track of possible resurgence of the Divine Warriors, he keeps track of Shad’s descendants (of course to an extent, mainly the ones who could potentially wield Shad’s relic) He doesn’t track the others descendants, mainly because there are not many descendants to keep track of its mainly reincarnations at this point. I’ll make a post later about how relics work in the rewrite.

☆Joh at some point just comes home with like preteen Laurence and Vincent has like one conversation with him and takes away two things. 1) at some point in the near future the Lucan family is going to completely die out and 2)this child is the reincarnation of Shad. Which obviously isn’t a good sign. And unluckily for him this won’t be the last time he meets one of the new divine warriors(labeled later on at least to refer to them by us, the relic holders)

★Last thing(not really this is all I want to write because my brain is going to much) he’s one of the last few shadow knights who can correctly make a shadow knight by Shad’s standards!!

[faejilly]

so, like a million years ago (aka over a year, time is a lie, shh, I refuse to double check exact dates) @awaylaughing prompted me for words! LOOK! WORDS!

Camellia (my destiny is in your hands) + Mass Effect (dealer's choice on all else) [OG prompt list]

This is, uh, perhaps more legacy than destiny, but it makes sense in my head. Hopefully it translates? Opening of ME2, F!Shepard, Joker, & Kaidan (with a little bit of Shenko for the tragedy of it all).

All Shepard could hear was her own breath, ragged and stuttering and too sharp in her throat.

For the first time in her life, she hated space, hated the bright lights that blinded her, the fact that the stars were too far away to matter, that her ship was exploding, her people were dying, the enemy was fleeing, its job done, the rest of them too small to matter, and she couldn't hear any of it.

Her heart beat so hard her ears throbbed in time, her breath too fast to match, too small, too shallow, yet she could still hear it beneath the whine of overlapping alarms. Her eyes burned with the flash of almost every alert possible simultaneously lighting up the edges of her vision, her HUD desperate to show her what she needed to know, desperate for her to fix it, help it, help them, fix them, fix everything, but still too dim to show clearly against the flares of lasers and oxygen burning burning burning.

Joker was swearing, the edge of pain clear in his voice, a hiss and a spark just audible beneath the rasp of his voice, and she was reasonably sure he'd just broken through a wall panel to access the system directly. As if he could refuse everything that had just happened, as if he could pilot an escape pod to come get her, as if his will was strong enough to turn around something without an engine or steering.

She almost laughed, felt it catch in her chest. If anyone could, it would be Joker.

“Shepard?” It was Alenko, his voice off-rhythm, unsteady, somehow both too fast and too slow, too low and too loud and yet so hard to hear over the silence around her. “Shepard, can you report? Status,” his voice caught, a swallow she could feel, could hear, “Shepard, please, damn it, Shepard.”

Her comms were still on.

Everyone could hear her breathing, Alenko had heard that almost laugh. Impossible though it seemed, that slight tremor of a breath wasn’t too faint for him, not with the way he always listened, always paid attention.

Especially to her, just as she’d always done the same for him.

She could hear Alenko’s breathing now, steady, let it steady her own, let herself pretend for just one inhale, one exhale, that there was something someone could do.

Something that Alenko could do, her Lieutenant, her XO, the best marine she’d ever worked with, that beautiful studied calm of his backing her up. He’d crossed every t, dotted every i, noticed every misstep around him, just so he could help someone take the next one and keep going…

He’d kept her going.

He’d keep them going.

He was the only one who could.

“Suit malfunction.”

Her voice sounded… normal.

Fucking N training.

She hated Anderson for a moment, almost as much as she hated space. Got her killed, the two of them, and trained her so well along the way that she couldn’t even panic about it, not when it would hurt someone else.

Kaidan.

She had to clench her jaw, close her eyes.

I’m sorry.

She opened her eyes.

“That final attack spread us all in different directions.” Her trajectory was almost exactly the opposite of Joker’s pod. Even if he could manage to steer the damn thing out of sheer fucking spite, he’d never be able to catch up.

Fucking physics. Newton was a bitch, and she’d tell him so herself when she met him.

Soon, now.

“Weaver,” Alenko’s voice was hollow in a way she’d never wanted to hear, especially not between the two of them, not when he was saying her name.

She just barely managed to mute her mic before she made a noise she couldn’t repress, rage and sorrow and cold, something that hurt her ears even more than the still whining alerts, something she couldn’t let him hear, not now, not like this, not as the last thing he’d ever–

She bit her tongue so hard she could taste copper and turned off the alerts so her mic wouldn’t pick them up, ignored the way the O2 sensor flashed as if it wanted to refuse her command.

“Get them home, Lieutenant.”

“Aye, ma’am.” His voice was solid this time, solemn, and she hated to think what it had cost him to put everything else away. “Understood.”

“Thank you, Kaidan,” she whispered. She thought she heard his breath again, just for an instant, something warm and alive and oh so far away, but then she cut her comm lines completely. She couldn’t bear to hear him say good-bye, would not allow him to hear what was going to happen next, what was already happening, the cold and the weight and the effort it took to inhale, the tremble in her arms, the battle she was about to lose to keep herself still, to stop herself from desperately scrabbling at the edges of her suit to try and find some way to fix everything that was broken.

Alenko would save as many of her people as could be saved, she had no doubts.

She just wasn’t one of them.

Good-bye, Kaidan.

[candy8448]

Febwhump day 13

"You weren't supposed to get hurt"

(Legend, Warriors, Wind)

TW: torture, blood, broken bones, waterboarding, beating, temporary main character death

Not a proper chapter but just ny notes i made for what o would have written

[limerental]

the weirdest tumblr ST fandom thing for me is how allergic a ton of writers seem to be to putting their multi-part short fics on ao3

listen, please ok... in any fandom...it's OK to post something under 2k on ao3. it's ok for something not to be wholly polished, especially if you've got a mile long list of people who want to be tagged in updates (ao3 has built in subscribe and bookmark and mark for later features of a reason!!) it's ok to post something on Tumblr impulsively and then add it to ao3 later and add an ao3 link to the post.

just please, at least for your future self who will have to slog through the useless Tumblr search function to find that thing you wrote... put the fic on ao3.

[mcd-brainrot-hours]

give me vylad as the lord of o’khasis

[claybyte]

one thing about me is that i never EVER read major character death. i cannot handle that emotionally

[la-sera]

Fanart inspired by the fic Nothing is Forever (what a horror/what a joy) by @imperialkatwala , @polynomialpandemic

Warning: temporary MCD.

This fic made me stare at midnight and read it 2 or 3 times until I fell asleep without realizing it. The next morning, I drew a sketch at work and colored it this evening. I want to draw this scene ASAP. If you like Downfall Duo, you might like this fic. Please read this fic!

Fic link: