I thought we were going to save somebody. We can’t just give up because the fucking road ends…

if i look back, i am lost
we're not kids anymore.
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@scmildanach
I thought we were going to save somebody. We can’t just give up because the fucking road ends…
“Falling in love with a god is not a death sentence. The story is only a tragedy if the god loves you back.”
— Nathaniel Orion G. K.
schreiberpablo:
I was really interested in the arc of the episode in general being this reverse descent into madness. So we saw at the beginning of the episode him in his most manic and out of sorts state, and he sort of comes to his senses as the episode goes on. And I wanted the chronology of the flashback to be in reverse, so as he was trying to uncover this mystery of who he is and unearth this– the fog of identity that he had created for himself through these hundreds of years that he’s been here. – Pablo Schreiber
taghte:
@scmildanach → Starter Call
Well it wasn’t often he ran into someone he could ALMOST see at eye level. That and something about the other felt familiar yet he knew they had never met. Brows furrowed as his gaze fell, thinking on for the moment of why he’d even have THIS feeling. Stories? No, why would he be familiar then? Then again, he hadn’t thought about those stories in quite sometime. “Do I know ye?” Alec finally asked as his gaze returned towards the other, large arms crossing over his BROAD chest.
❝ Not likely, ❞ Sweeney mused, making somewhat of a point to further pronounce his own accent. It had been awhile since he’d met anyone taller than him and it was these small things in life which kept immortality interesting. Yet it wasn’t that which had peaked his curiosity. There indeed was a familiarity about their encounter, but not in the way in which two individuals had met before. The aura of a god that surrounded this one - a mark of divine touch. Sweeney recognised that. He guessed what Grimnir had mentioned was true ... ❝ but if you’re who i think ya are, I have a job I heard you might be interested in.❞
I promise you my pain wasn’t poetic.It was days without sleep and pretending I was stable enough to continue.
i am tired of this emptiness. (via ended-dreams)
fynan:
𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫, 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠.
@scmildanach ! 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧 : “ 💬 ”
❛ 𝘢𝘮 𝘪 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵'𝘣𝘦 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝘯𝘰𝘸 ? ❜
❝ Well i ain’t comin’ to rescue you, ❞ elbows pressed against the bar as Sweeney lent up against it, eyeing the poor drunken sod who’d just thought to challenge Finan. A smirk amusedly pulling at tawny features, ❝ — so try not to get crushed. ❞
Then/Now: Mad Sweeney and Laura Moon
thunderbringer:
the pair have had their ups and downs , their bickering and downright venomous interactions . somewhere along the line that has faded into something more that might just resemble civility. part of him expects witty remarks and a scolding but what awaits him isn’t that . they are very different in many ways , but also tend to be under the same thumb of entrapment .at least that is the way it feels at times . the weight on his shoulders does grow far too heavy and he wonders when it will all become too much . why he’s here and come to sweeney?? he’s still unsure of but gut instinct brought him here and typically that intuition is never ignored .
i ain’t going anywhere . its said as if its the easiest thing in the world or like they don’t bicker and fight on a daily basis . always pushing back and forth against one another like their lives depend on it . thor sits on the steps , boots resting on the steps below and level enough he can rest his elbows on his knees . ❝ i feel like if you need to ask then you probably already know the answer . shit . i don’t know why i came here , but here i am and i still don’t know if i really wanna talk about it . ❞
Sweeney took another swig of his beer as Thor made himself comfortable, and hazel orbs stared out into the night from where they sat. In truth, it was still hard for him not to hold some kind of grudge. After all, they’d been going at each other’s throats for so long now it had become somewhat of a habit. But the leprechaun knew this wasn’t such a surface level affair anymore; it was bigger than just them.
❝ Don’t have to if you don’t want, ❞ he replied , as Sweeney reached over to the carton of Guinness he had on hand and offered one to the god beside him, ❝ — it’s no secret i’ve never been good at offerin’ sound advice anyway ... but as far as fucked situations go, i think we’ve both taken the cake on that one. So the offers there , if ya want it. ❞ His tone remained nonchalant but there was a sense of genuineness in it also. Maybe he had started to feel bad for the other or just grew tired of this constant battle of back and forth. One thing was for sure though, tonight Sweeney just didn’t have the strength, nor the desire, to put up any tough or malicious demeanour .
Banshee. I heard them on the battlefield at Mag Rath. I knew then that I’d die that night by the spear like the Bishop said. So, I walked away. The war, my family, my mind. I lost it all… because I left it all.
@endlessfables said ‘I just need to feel something.’ - comfort starters ( accepting )
Sweeney was slumped back in the booth, hands fiddling with an unlit cigarette and a half drunk glass of guinness on the table between them. He never thought he’d think it, but it was times like this the leprechaun wished Salim was still hanging around. Salim would know what to say because giving pep talks wasn’t really Sweeney’s thing. At this point, when Laura spoke, he felt himself at a sure disadvantage. But regardless of that, there was still a part of him that wanted to help if he could. In truth, Sweeney had slowly come to realise that there was now a part of him that wanted to be a part of Laura’s life somehow, even if it meant just as a tag-along. Of course, he’d would never admit that. Fuck no. Sweeney would never hear the end of it or worse yet, Laura would probably just bail at her quickest opportunity ( knowing her ). But that didn’t stop him from being protective. After all, it was his responsibility she was in this mess in the first place. It was his fault she couldn’t feel anything and now sat across for him wishing that she could. This was all Sweeney and all he could do was sit there and offer nothing constructive. Fuck. Where was Salim when you needed him?
❝ Can’t say your missin’ out on much, ❞ he began, acting as nonchalant as he could while digging for the lighter in his pocket, ❝ plenty of buggers here who’d change places with you in an instant. ❞ a point of Sweeney’s chin indicated to all the drunks at the bar. Alone. All of them burying their sorrows in what alcohol their money could afford. But he knew that wasn’t what she meant. It took a moment or two, but sure enough Sweeney eventually added to his comment. However, now his tone had grown softer, almost as though he had been musing to himself. ❝ — you’ll get it back. ❞ He reassured with a degree of certainty that was a hard juxtaposition of his previous comment.
@ulfhrafnx sent ‘ ☂ ‘ for our muses get caught in the rain together. - Send a symbol prompt ( accepting !! )
Sweeney imagined they would keep walking. The rain wasn’t so heavy by that point and they weren’t far from their destination either, so it had made sense to him to push on. After all, it had been a slow going patter for the majority of the morning anyways, so he thought nothing of it when the clouds rolled in once more and blocked what warmth from the sun remained. However, it was as though the heavens had overheard his thoughts and were resolute in proving his assumption wrong, and sure enough the rain became more severe and turned into a outright down pour.
He felt the slight tug on his shirt then, as Lira’s hand brushed against him and guided the leprechaun into a small treeline covering. It wasn’t enough to keep them dry entirely, but it was better than being out in the full brunt of it. ❝ ...Fuck ❞ He mumbled underneath his breath, watching from his position amidst the trees as the field before them slowly turned into a makeshift bog of mud and dew. It was becoming apparent also that this wasn’t the sort of storm that would let up any time soon, and so Sweeney threw his satchel to the ground of the base of one of the trees to sit on as they waited. ❝ you’re better off standin’ here, ❞ he called out, a nonchalant flick of his chin gesturing towards where he was sitting. They’d been travelling together a couple of days and their conversations had warn down to a few sentences with each exchange. But they’d grown comfortable, or at least from what Sweeney observed they had. He lifted himself slightly to move his bag to one side, allowing more room for Lira to sit beside him had she wished to take his offer.
copiesofher:
@scmildanach inquired: ❝ Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you while you were being suspicious ❞ for Methredhel ( i don’t have an elder scrolls verse but feel free to set it in that universe, if you want, and i’ll just chuck sweeney in there somehow lmao )
Talk about being caught with her fingers in the sweet roll jar. There was something about thievery that made her feel so alive, yet being caught had a way of shaving a decade or so off of her life. Whether that would be in the fact that she could be dropped right into the Imperial Prison, or the fact that any house she invites herself into would be well within their rights to pull a dagger on her was another matter entirely. Methredhel freezes like a deer in headlights, and there’s a brief moment where she holds his gaze and he holds hers that feels like everything around them has slowed down. She can hear the thunder and roar of her heartbeat in her ears, and she’s praying to the divines. Internally, of course. Outwardly, she tries to look like she isn’t much bothered by the fact that she has gotten caught.
Thank the Nine that she was blessed with a fantastic poker face. As nonchalantly as she could, considering she was an uninvited guest in this fine establishment, she slips her hand from the jewellery box she had been rootling through. “Oh, no apologies necessary, my good sir!” Methredhel hopes that it’s not too fake-sounding, but it’s difficult to scramble for lucidity when her heart’s going a mile a minute and his hulking frame is barring her only visible exit. “I see you’ve caught me trying to reclaim something previously pilfered from me! Is this not the house of Aprola Vendal?”
Hazel orbs ventured back and forth between the thief and the box she had only just recently had her hand in, as Sweeney pressed his left shoulder up against the door frame. Muscular arms crossed over his chest as an amused scoff parted from dried lips. ❝ It is ... must be an important trinket, considerin’ all the effort you’re goin’ through to retrieve it. ❞ He observed, as tawny brows moved themselves into an expression of entertained disbelief. If anything, Sweeney could admire the thief’s bravery in admitting to the act of stealing straight off the bat. Most would try to profess their innocence when caught red handed like this, but she seemed of a different merit. How Sweeney had ended up in the residency of Aprola Vendal was a story all of its own. However, let it be said that due to his sheer size and skill in a brawl fight, his reputation had earned him enough good-grace in the eyes of various nobles who would come to him when they deemed their estates in need of a bit of muscle. In that regard his pocket was never empty of coin. But that’s all it was - a job. Something to pass the time and then he’d be off some place new until the money ran dry and the process would repeat. There was no sense of loyalty in it, which was likely the reason Sweeney hadn’t yet gone about trying to reach for the great sword strapped to his back. However, he did block the door in its entirety.
fair warning, i am a few champagnes in at the moment so whatever writing happens beyond this point pls just keep that in mind.
requested by anonymous