#edward rivals him in almost every way
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cto10121 · 9 months ago
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Midnight Sun Part 2!!! Possibly my favorite section; I could not put it down, especially the rescue part. I did have Des Notes, though:
“It wasn’t really a difficult ask.” Nope, no way a vampire from 1901 would say this 2020s slang in 2006. Don’t slip up, Meyer!!! Or get better editors!!!
Alice introducing herself to Edward by hugging him and calling him brother and Edward going like “Yep, legit” will never not be great
Edward lying in bed and nearly giving Bella a heart attack with his sluttishness is almost worse in his POV, omg. How the fuck does that happen
Edward reading Tooth and Claw just because Bella recommended it. Remind me again why some people don’t like Edward?
Wait—Edward describes Bella’s scent as “lavender” or “freesia.” One of Bella’s favorite scents is lavender, as well as clean laundry. And she blushed when she looked at Edward, clearly thinking about his scent. Could Edward’s scent actually
be similar to Bella’s? Is that why her scent affects him so powerfully? Holy shit.
Edward “It was enlightening and alluring to watch her in her element” (Bella *eating Cheerios*) đŸ€ Romeo “See how she leans her cheek upon her hand” (Juliet: *leaning her cheek on her hand*)
“Bella had gone to the other room to calm her mother. And then the vision had overtaken Alice.” Nice way to cover up that little plot hole, very enterprising
“The image of myself astride the sleek black motorcycle was so appealing that for a second I ignored her” đŸ€ŁđŸ€ŁđŸ€ŁđŸ€Ł đŸ€ŁđŸ€ŁđŸ€ŁđŸ€Ł It’s giving Terminator. Love it. Also, what a great parallel to Bella’s motorcycle adventures
Very ambivalent about the highway scene. Otoh, it’s interesting and clever and detailed how the Cullens worked together. Otoh, it’s over the top at places! Like why did they flip the car into upcoming traffic????? Why did they even have to switch cars to begin with????? Meyer really should avoid full-length action scenes (I did like the Victoria fight in Eclipse, though)
Ngl, the James hunt is probably better than in Twilight, if just because Edward is at the front of the action. Still amazing how James slipped away from them
“Bella’s blood was the opposite of pain. It erased every burn I’d ever suffered. And it was so much more than just the absence of pain. It was satisfaction, it was bliss. I felt suffused with a strange kind of joy—a joy of the body alone. I was healed and alive, every nerve ending thrumming with contentment.” The Metaphor(tm) has now become literal.
Book Edward *drinking Bella’s blood*: ✹Bliss âœšđŸ„° >>>>>> Movie Edward: *gnaws on Bella’s arm like a chicken wing*
“The chuckle that bubbled up from my chest surprised me. I had her blood on her tongue. It was probably tinting the edges of my irises red even now. It was drying into my clothes and dyeing my skin. But she could still make me laugh”
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Jasper looks so dangerous to other vampires that James just
accepts his fate. Like welp, guess I’ll die. Iconic
“Why am I towing that ridiculous truck?” Okay, the Cullens hating Bella’s truck is officially a gag.
“For a moment, I imagined RenĂ©e as a vampire. Would her thoughts shout audibly at everyone, inescapable?” Nice foreshadowing/Easter egg for Renesmee. So there is a meaning and rationale behind the name other than Bella’s corniness.
That section where Edward watches James’ video and is so overcome with rage and despair and then starts to pray for the strength to leave Bella
that passage was so well-written I was nearly crying
Re: Edward’s decision to leave Bella, It is genius on Meyer’s part (or, well, just practical) to make the obstacles internal instead of external. Edward needs to deal with the consequences of leaving Bella and learn from his mistakes
Finished and in sum: This was great and only gets better in the re-reading. There is a lot of whinging and whining over certain aspects, mostly by anti fans, but those didn’t really bother me. Most lines were taken out of context, as they always do, and spun into something questionable; in context they were fine. Then there are those who say it is better and better-written than Twilight, but I disagree. Twilight was much better structured and less superfluous in detail than Midnight Sun, which could get bogged down in minute-to-minute summary. That said, Midnight Sun does have the advantage that all the dynamic change and development are on Edward’s side than Bella’s, as in a proper Beauty and the Beast telling. But Bella’s story does have power and is arguably more subversive than Edward’s. I think the two complement ultimately each other—the subtext of Twilight is the text of Midnight Sun, and vice versa. Reading both gets you a more complete picture
which the TV show would undoubtedly fuck up in some way if they decide to use parts of Midnight Sun. Le sigh.
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yutarot · 12 days ago
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the forbidden fruit. — req by anon
genre: vampire!jaehyun x reader
warnings: mentions of death
wc: 2.7k
notes; i enjoyed writing this so much, thank u for the request!!
synopsis: your quiet life shatters the night you meet jaehyun—a dark, mysterious stranger who emerges only at dusk. you’re drawn to the intrigue of his haunted character, unaware he’s a centuries-old vampire, burdened by a past he longs to escape. though he tries to keep his distance, jaehyun can’t resist the warmth he finds in you. just as your connection deepens, a even darker rival appears, threatening to reveal jaehyun’s secret and tear you apart. now, you must decide: confront the darkness surrounding you both or risk losing a love that transcends life and death.
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you never knew why, but he has always intrigued you. having recently moved back to your hometown to look after your late grandmother’s bookshop, you spend each day stacking books and listening to the crackling wire of her old radio. the weather always seemed to be an abundance of mist, the town nestled between dark forests and ancient mountains. but you never thought you would find love here, especially not with the mysterious, reserved, and almost cold man who lurked between the bookshelves every day before you closed.
at first, it didn’t bother you; you get regulars all the time. but there was something about his quiet intensity, always finding him lurking in the shadows, emerging only when the sun dipped below the horizon. it was strangely magnetic.
so that leads you to now, having to close the store early in order to accommodate some of your grandmother’s old friends. somehow lacking any kind of fear, you walk through the shelves in search of any lingering customers.
that’s where you find him, brooding yet strikingly handsome, holding a copy of twilight in his left hand, gently flicking through the pages with his right. almost immediately, he senses your presence. but he doesn’t look up, instead keeping his eyes trained on the page as he speaks to you.
“you know, i’ve always wondered what the apple on the cover represents,” he says, his voice shockingly gentle. “some say it shows their forbidden love, like the apple from genesis, morally wrong yet intriguingly good.” he puts down the book, slowly lifting his eyes to you. “but i think it’s more than that. i think it shows edward’s desire, his temptation,” he walks towards you, slowly, “his want.”
he stops in front of you, looking down at your expression of confusion.
“what about you? what do you think it shows?”
you’re quiet for a moment. “i think that edward is the forbidden fruit. he’s the bad decision she makes, he’s the sin.”
he smiles at your answer. “i’ve never looked at it that way before.”
gaining confidence, you reply. “meyer quoted genesis in the beginning of the book, but i don’t think it’s the romance that was forbidden. it was him.”
“you really know your stuff,” he replies.
“you’ve read all the books in here?” you say jokingly, but his answer catches you by surprise.
“just about.”
“what?” you laugh, “that would take, like, centuries.”
his eyes darken, jaw clenching. “something like that.”
you didn’t see him for a few weeks after that. he had vanished, completely and utterly removed from your life but, never, from your mind.
he was all you could think about. every passing day you searched for him between the darkness of the bookshelves, his dark hair, his tall frame, but you never found him.
that was until the day you decided to leave the bookshop. you don’t usually leave to go on walks, but amidst the autumn breeze, you needed a break from the essence of old paper and ink.
the leaves crunching beneath your feet and the frost nibbling at your cheeks, you find comfort in the environment around you. it was dusk, your favorite grey color of the sky setting a backdrop for the orange hue of the trees. walking past a frozen lake, you take in the sights, scanning your eyes around to take it all in.
suddenly, you feel a chill arise along your skin.
you aren’t alone.
you turn frantically, feeling the presence of someone moving around you, but your movements quickly betray you as you stumble on your feet, falling backward.
processing what just happened, you stay seated, the urge to get up and leave mysteriously absent.
something—someone—is making you stay.
and that becomes immediately clear the moment you hear his voice.
“yn ln.” it’s the man from the bookshop.
you’re taken aback. “how do you know my name?”
“i’m not stupid.”
“what?”
“you were watching me in that bookstore, ever since the first day i visited, and now your heart aches at my absence. do you wish to explain?”
your heart races as you watch his jaw clench. explain? your mind whirs in circles. in all honesty, you have no idea.
but he’s right. your heart does ache.
he continues, “i was away.” he offers his hand to help you up. “on a trip.” you take his hand.
immediately, the chill you felt before returns. his hand is cold, lacking all and any warmth. it was as if he were sucked dry of life, completely and utterly soulless.
you gain balance on your feet before you speak up.
“who are you?”
that singular question seems to dull his senses, the smile on his face wiped clean.
“who am i?” he repeats, eyes darkening like they did in the bookshop. he thinks for a moment before continuing, “walk with me.”
and so you do. you walk with him. stride after stride, he tells you about his life, about growing up in the neighboring town, about his mother who passed giving birth to him, and about his friends back in his hometown. you listen, not only to his stories but to his voice. it’s soothing, gentle, and something tells you that you’ll wish to hear more of it. but you notice there are important details missing; there’s something he’s not telling you.
when you both reach your bookstore again, he halts, signaling he’s dropping you off.
you walk to the door, but remembering your heartache at his former absence, you call out to him.
“when will i see you again
 uh
” you pause, his name unknown to you.
“jaehyun.” he smiles, “and you will see me when you need me. it only takes patience, love.”
with that, you smile back, turning to put the key in the lock. but when you turn back to wave him goodbye, he’s gone, the place where he stood now only a puddle of brown leaves, encased in frost and the scent of the tall, dark stranger you now know as jaehyun.
in the weeks that followed, you saw him more frequently. each time he came into the bookshop, you would pass him a smile, and he would sit, engrossed in the worlds of the books he’s reading. each day you would talk about your shared interests, and each day your curiosity grew. you wanted to know everything about this man. it wasn’t just his looks that intrigued you; there was something aurally magnetic about him. the way he looked at you, like you were something he couldn’t have but desperately wanted. you wished to uncover why.
he had just picked up an edition of crime and punishment by dostoevsky when you come over to him, a warm mug of tea in your hands.
“i brought you this; you must be cold.”
he looks between the tea and you, a polite refusal in his eyes.
“
or not.”
he chuckles at your ability to read him. no one else has ever been able to do that to him. no one, until he met you.
jaehyun doesn’t come back for the books; he’s read every book in this little town bookstore. yet, each night, he finds himself at the front door, hoping for a chance to see you.
he doesn’t want to see you, he doesn’t want to talk to you.
but he needs it.
he folds the book over in one hand, leaning back in the soft, green velvet armchair you’ve placed in the corner of the bookshop.
he speaks, surprising you again with the softness of his voice. “i think it’s interesting.”
your brow twists in confusion before he continues.
“raskolnikov seems alienated from society, no matter what he does or how he does it.”
you listen intently.
“yes, he’s a murderer. but even before then, it was always his pride that separated him. it’s fascinating.”
“you enjoy literature a lot, don’t you?” you say.
he laughs. “a little. why else do you think i’m in here so often?”
a secret part of you was hoping for another reason for him to be here. but your mind was its own fantasy, unrealistic and yet completely tempting.
“you’re different from all the rest of my customers,” you reply.
this makes jaehyun’s face contort into an expression you’ve never seen him wear before: hope.
“how so?”
“i’m not entirely sure.”
your breath catches, caged by the fear of him suspecting the feelings that linger. but it’s almost as if he can hear your heart, beating in your chest. because you’re sure that he knows.
your conversation is abruptly interrupted when you hear the bell to the bookstore door ring, signaling that you’ve got a new customer.
“i should probably go and
 yeah
 enjoy the book!” you say to jaehyun, who laughs at the way you so easily panic over the tiniest situations. from an outsider, it would seem that someone had walked in with the intention of blowing the place up with the way that you reacted.
as you turn the corner to approach the customer, the chilling feeling you felt at the lake begins to fade into you. it makes you wonder if you were wrong about it, presuming it was just something you felt around jaehyun, but it made no sense. you’re walking away from him.
interrupted again from your thoughts, you arrive at the door, the customers back to you.
you reach up to tap him on the shoulder.
“hello, how can i hel-“
his hand covers your mouth.
“save the talking for when you need it.” the stranger whispers, as you push his hand away.
that was rude, you think to yourself.
the stranger continues. “im looking for
 something.”
“what is it? maybe i can help you? it is my store..”
“hmmm. it’s about 300 years old, pretty.. local..”
you furrow your brows. 300 years?
“well, sir that could be anything. gullivers travels, candide, paradise lost?”
his eyes glimmer with amusement. “no, no, none of those. i’ll just have a look around myself.”
confused but albeit very annoyed by the man’s lack of respect, you allow him to look for himself. and you find yourself on your way back to where jaehyun is sitting.
only when you get there.
jaehyun is gone.
but the book remains on the green velvet armchair, open on its final page. you read the words in which had been underlined.
‘They wanted to speak, but could not; tears stood in their eyes. They were both pale and thin; but those sick pale faces were bright with the dawn of a new future, of a full resurrection into a new life. They were renewed by love; the heart of each held infinite sources of life for the heart of the other.’
you threw the book back down, the final sentence echoing over and over in your mind.
your heartache, his cold demeanour. it was as if you both needed each-other for the simple aspect of life.
startling you, you hear a bang across the other side of the bookshop.
you turn on your heel, pushing the thought of jaehyun to the back of your mind as you waver your way through the shelves. but your attempt to disregard your thoughts of him is soon in vain as you find him, holding the stranger by his collar against the shelf. jaehyuns eyes are the darkest you’ve ever seen them, his skin the palest it’s ever been. and his teeth.
you gasp to yourself, clutching your chest and trying to hold yourself up against the bookshelf.
you don’t recognise him, but he looks more like himself than he ever has.
his head turns in your direction and immediately his visage returns to normal, the stranger he’s holding removing jaehyuns grasp on him, chuckling to himself with a smirk.
your mind is spinning.
“so this is why you haven’t come home.” the stranger says to jaehyun.
his words from before come back to you. ‘hmmm. it’s about 300 years old, pretty.. local..’
he wasn’t talking about a book. he was talking about jaehyun.
you have nothing to say, nothing to feel or even think.
but the unease you felt about him before, seemingly has vanished.
everything you had been questioning. everything you were unsure of, has been answered.
the stranger continues, “i knew there was a reason. but i never would have suspected this.”
jaehyuns fists clench, knowing he can’t do anything with you here.
“your choice.” the stranger says to jaehyun before turning to you. “and by the way, pretty, im jungwoo.” he winks, before walking out the door and vanishing soon after.
you stay completely, and utterly still. jaehyuns eyes are only on you. he can’t tell what your thinking and it drives him utterly insane.
“are you okay?” he asks, stepping closer to you.
you should flinch, you should tell him to get out.
but you can’t.
you nod, slowly and indefinitely.
“i didn’t want this to happen,” he says, walking closer, slowly as to not scare you, “but you..”
you look up at him.
jaehyun holds a hand out to push a strand of hair from your face, gently. “you’ve done something to me.”
your eyes widen. but you can’t help but nod, a silent yet powerful indication of the way your feeling. but you know now that he can hear your heart, he can hear the reaction he has on you. he knows it’s not fear. it’s love.
he looks between both of your eyes, soaking in the feeling of being able to breathe in the same air as you. his hand finds your cheek and he leans down, everything is so slow, so gentle.
but before his lips could find yours. he stops himself, his brows crunching as if he’s in pain, hurt by having to let you go like this.
your eyes are full of questions. “why did you-“
“i can’t.” he says, sternly. “i can’t kiss you.”
“why not?”
his jaw clenches, his hand remaining softly on your face.
“i have a choice to make. this only makes that so much harder.”
“what choice?”
he gulps. you’ve never seen him nervous.
“either, i return to my family.” his hand brushes through your hair, reluctantly, and he pulls it away just as he states his next words. “or he tells my father.”
“what will happen if he told your father?”
he looks down, pain on his features.
“he’ll kill you.”
that’s when you realise. the forbidden fruit. it’s what he feels for you, what you feel for him, thats the sin.
‘but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shall surely die.’
he disappears, vanishes into nothing, as you stand, warmth returning to the air around you.
you let him go.
the next few weeks are tiresome. he hasn’t left your mind, and you haven’t left his. pain envelopes you everytime you think of him, soaring through your memories like dust in a cloud of wind.
in attempts to clear your head, you decide to take a walk again. the fog is heavier this evening, weaving through the trees and laying around the lake as if it were a blanket, soft and comforting.
you listen to the birds, melancholically singing away at eachother. but it only reminds you of your loneliness.
you long for him, mind and soul.
riddled by the effects of the winter air, the breeze makes you shiver. but when the cold doesn’t let up, the feeling oddly familiar, you turn.
there he is. standing before you, a tormented expression of a tortured soul, resting on his features.
this time, you walk to him. this time, you’re completely certain.
you stand before him.
“id rather die in the arms of certainty than to live without a chance.” you breathe, watching him intently.
but he only smiles, searching in your eyes. and at last, he presses his lips to yours.
he’s soft, yet firm.
he shouldn’t want you, he shouldn’t need you. but he does.
for if you died, it would be for this moment.
‘even more, i had never meant to love him. one thing i truly knew–knew it in the pit of my stomach, in the center of my bones, knew it from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, knew it deep in my empty chest–was how love gave someone the power to break you.’ — stephenie meyer, twilight.
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bqstqnbruin · 6 months ago
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Forget About Us
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Hello this is my first fic in like almost 6 months inspired by Forget About Us by Perrie Edwards
Thanks to my loves @nicohischier @assmanselke and @matthewtkachuk for yelling at me and letting me yell about this fic :)
Summary: Carson meets Jack, Jack falls for Carson, Carson does what she wants.
Word count: 7.4k
Warnings: Swearing, drinking, aNGST
Flashbacks are in italics. Also, I swear I read through this more than once but there might be errors unintentionally 😬
_________________________________________
Looking up into the stands, every game he plays in this city, he’s looking for her. He had been doing it for the past few years, always expecting to see her.
___________________________
“Can you stop pouting? We’re going to go out after the game,” Morgan begs. 
“I don’t want to go out. I don’t want to be here or anywhere else besides my bed.” 
Morgan rolls her eyes, sitting down in her seat. “Carson, you never go out.”
“Because I never want to go out,” she repeats. “I don’t have the money to go out.” 
“The tickets were free from my job and I told you I would pay for your drinks tonight.” 
“I don’t feel good,” Carson whines, knowing that it still wouldn’t be enough. 
“You’re fine.”
“I’m on my period.”
“So am I, what’s your point?”
“Your period doesn’t make you double over in pain for three days.”
“This is the fourth day of your period when you have told me you always feel fine. And your period has been regular since you were fifteen when you went on birth control.”
“I don’t like that you know that.”
“Then maybe don’t tell me the same thing like a broken record every month?” Carson continues to pout, even though her friend is right. “Do you really not want to be here? We can leave after the first period if you really aren’t having fun. But, you do keep telling me you’ve been wanting to come to a game since we moved here.”
“No,” she drags out. “I just had a bad day at work.”
“What happened?”
The teams start coming out onto the ice for warm-ups, everyone booing the away team. It made no sense. They weren’t even actual rivals. The other team, from Carson’s understanding, was so inconsequential that they shouldn’t even matter. But who was she to argue? 
“Anthony came by work today.” 
“Anthony? Like Anthony, your ex, Anthony?”
“No, Anthony Michael Hall from The Breakfast Club.”
“What did he say?”
She and Morgan had this same conversation every week. “He wants to get back together.”
“And you told him, ‘no,’ right?”
“I’m grumpy, not stupid.” 
Morgan sighs. Anthony kept showing up at the cafe Carson worked at between classes to ask for her back for the last month. He didn’t seem to care about the fact that they wanted wildly different things in their lives and that they weren’t going to work. Carson wanted to get her JD and leave New Jersey for good. She was tired of the debate over whether or not the central part of the state existed, if it was called Taylor Ham or Pork Roll, and which beach down the shore was the best. She wanted out as soon as possible, and Anthony wanted to stay here and settle down. He wanted someone who wanted to be at home with the kids, which Carson really didn’t want. The only way she could think about staying in New Jersey was if her partner wanted everything else she wanted. Whoever she ended up with had to be everything else to her. Anthony wasn’t it.
Morgan slowly forms a smile on her face, one that immediately makes Carson panic. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it.”
“Who said I’m going to do something that you’ll hate?”
“Every past action that you’ve done without talking to me about it first says you’re going to do something I’m going to end up hating.” 
Morgan rolls her eyes, pulling out her wallet and handing Carson her debit card. “Here, you go get us beer and pizza so that way you don’t have to see what I’m about to do.” Carson sits there, Morgan shoving the card into her hands. “Go.” 
Both of them get up from their seats, Carson feeling a sense of panic as she watches her roommate go down to the ice while typing furiously on her phone. Carson tries to get back to their seats as fast as she can, worried about what antics she was about to be dragged into. She wanted to be home early that night so she could start studying for one of her exams that week. She did not have time to do whatever it was that Morgan was planning to do. 
“Here,” Morgan hands her something as she sits back down, Carson still trying to figure out how to balance two overflowing drinks and two slices of pizza larger than her own head. “I got this for you.”
“You got me a puck?” 
“Yes.”
“Ok?”
“You could say thank you.”
“Thank you for a piece of rubber that could probably break a bone if you get hit with it hard enough.”
“You’ll get the rest of what I got you tonight.”
“I swear to god,” Carson starts. “I’m not god, but I am close to a goddess.”
Carson groans, trying to focus on anything other than the terror that she was sure was about to come to her tonight. One of the players kept looking up at her, over his shoulder and seemingly ignoring his teammates. “What did you do?”
Morgan shrugs, nudging Carson’s shoulder as she waves at the player. “His name is Jack.”
“Just because I’m studying law, that doesn’t mean I’m above breaking at least one of them.” 
“Yes, it does.” 
The game starts, Carson’s eyes staying on the one player who had been watching her before. He gave her the vibes of someone who would end up naked and drunk in the hallway of her dorm in college, passed out and unsure of where his pants or keys were. 
“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Morgan asks once the second period starts. 
Carson doesn’t make a noise, just nodding. He was the exact type of mistake she would make on a night out when she needed to forget about something. “Why does he keep staring?”
“Probably for the same reason you’re staring at him even if you do look like you want to kill him.” Carson turns to glare at Morgan. “I’m just saying, you might be hot, but you also look like you could commit a felony right now.” 
Carson sighs, waiting for the end of the game. She had no idea what was going on, but Morgan seemed to be into it at least. 
Carson lets out a yawn as the fans start to file out of the arena, Morgan dragging her along behind her. “Can we please just go home?” 
“No, I have a surprise for you.”
“Last time you had a surprise for me, I ended up needing three of my tires replaced.”
“And they gave you the fourth one for free, anyway,” Morgan grabs Carson’s hand, pulling her in the direction of some bar she wouldn’t remember the name of in the morning.
Carson knew that no matter how much she complained to Morgan, her friend would have something to counter every whine. They had lived together all four years of college before finally somehow scraping together enough money to each get their own places, despite the fact that they were still neighbors in their apartment building. Morgan, unfortunately, could get Carson to do anything she asked her to since she knew exactly how to make it so Carson wouldn’t say no. Most of the time, it involved physically dragging Carson places, like she was doing right now, but it always somehow worked.
“I’m paying for drinks,” Morgan tells her, dropping Carson’s hand as they two walk into the unreasonably crowded and slightly smelly bar. 
“Yeah, like that was in question,” Carson tells her. 
“You go sit down, I’ll find you.” 
Morgan leaves Carson alone. The scene around her made her want to run away, except for the fact that Morgan could track her location and would not be above chasing her down the street and dragging her back to the bar. Everyone seemed like they were five drinks in, Carson feeling anxious about being what seemed to be the only sober person around. 
“You ok?” a voice comes behind her, snapping her out of her potential spiral. She turns around, the guy from the game standing in front of her. 
“This isn’t real,” she mutters, shaking her head. How the hell did Morgan manage this? 
“What?” the guy asks, understandably confused.
“Sorry,” Carson says. “I mean, yeah, I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.” 
“I’m dehydrated.”
“Can I get you water, then?”
“No.”
“But, wouldn’t that help with the dehydration thing?”
Carson stares at him, dumbfounded. “I can get water myself,” she says, her tone a little harsher than she intended it to be. 
“I’m Jack,” he introduces himself, not getting the message at all. 
“That’s nice.” 
“Do you have a name?”
“No, that spot on my birth certificate has been blank for the last twenty four years. Everyone calls me whatever nickname they can think of. The current one is ‘Maverick.’” 
Jack opens his mouth to say something, Morgan appearing in between them before he can get a word in. “You actually came!”
“How could I pass up coming to meet someone as sweet as your friend here after the game?”
Carson barely knew him, but she already knew he would be a thorne in her side. 
“She’s already been mean to you, hasn’t she?” Morgan laughs, finally handing Carson the drink she got for her. 
“Hey,” Carson tries to protest, despite both of them ignoring her. 
“It’s fine. It’s kinda hot,” he smirks, staring at Carson. She didn’t care that she couldn’t help but stare back, her cheeks bright red at his words.
___________________________
She always sat in the same general area, a few rows from the top of the section right behind their bench. It was easy to find her. How could he not at least try?
___________________________
“Why are you anxious?” Morgan asks, plopping down on Carson’s couch.
“Who said I was anxious?”
“You’re scrunchie.”
“What could that possibly mean?”
“You’re scrunching your brow so much and frowning so hard that you have wifi symbols showing on your face. You only do that when you’re anxious.” 
“Please don’t say that to me ever again.” Carson lets out a sigh. She shouldn’t be anxious. She’s done things that were so much more difficult than this. She graduated with a 4.0 GPA in high school and college. She participated in every possible extra curricular that she could, and did so perfectly. She had her life scheduled down to the minute, when she would study, eat, have free time. She didn’t have time to be anxious. “Jack is supposed to be here any minute.”
Morgan lets out a squeal so high that Carson covers her ears. “You’re finally going on a date with him?” 
“If you want to call it that.” 
“Tell me everything,” Morgan says, plopping herself at Carson’s feet.
“No.” 
“Carson,” Morgan whines.
“Morgan,” Carson counters. “I don’t even know where we’re going. From what it sounds like, it’s not even going to be just us, it’s something with the team.”
“He’s taking you to meet the rest of his team?” she yells. 
“If you get that loud again, I’m throwing you out the window.”
“We both know your window doesn’t open far enough for me to get out of it, we’ve tried. Anyway,” Morgan continues, ignoring Carson’s annoyance, as usual. “That means something if he already wants you to know his teammates.”
“It means he already had plans with them when he asked me to go out with him and is dragging me somewhere I wasn’t otherwise invited.” 
“You could be positive sometimes, you know.”
“There’s no fun in that.” 
“Carse,” Morgan says, “He wouldn’t be inviting you if he didn’t like you. He wouldn’t have been texting you every waking moment that he could if he didn’t like you.” 
“It’s kind of annoying.” 
“That’s because you are a black hole personified and he’s the human equivalent of a dumb puppy.” 
Carson scrunches her face while she looks at her friend. “That’s mean.” 
“I’m trying to say that you two are different. And that’s ok. He’s more extroverted than you are. You’re still going to have fun because you’re going to be with him.” Carson looks at her, unsure. “If you’re not fine, I have your location and I will come join you guys, or come pick you up.” 
“Why am I nervous?”
“Probably because this is the first guy you’re going out with that doesn’t look like a dead baby bird.”
“Sometimes, inside thoughts can stay inside.” 
“My point,” Morgan starts, pulling Carson up to lead her out the door, “Is that he’s not your normal type and you don’t know what to do, so you’re panicking. But, again, you’ll be fine.”
Before Carson could say anything else, a knock came from the other side of her door. Morgan opens it, Jack standing there with his hands in his jeans pocket. 
“Wow,” Morgan verbalizes what Carson was thinking as she tries not to ogle at Jack. His jeans fit him way more perfectly than she would have liked, the t-shirt he had on showing off his arms in a way that made her feel like she was actually about to start drooling. For fucks sake.
“I think Carson is supposed to say that,” Jack jokes, leaning against the door frame. 
“Jesus Christ,” Carson groans, Morgan laughing as she pushes her way past Jack to head back to her place.
“Actually, they call me Jack.” 
“If you keep this up all night, I’m not leaving this apartment.”
“Is this your way of asking me to come in?”
“Absolutely not. We’re going now to meet your friends or you’re going by yourself.” 
Carson didn’t see Jack physically swoon at Carson as she walked past him, a stupid grin on his face as he watched her walk away from him. 
___________________________
Morgan was sitting next to her, the two of them seeing less of each other now that they didn’t live with or next to each other anymore. Carson was laughing at something Morgan was telling her, the smile on her face reaching her eyes. 
___________________________
“What are you doing right now?”
Carson groaned, knowing that any time Jack was asking her to do something lately, it was to pull her away from something she actually had to get done. “Studying.”
“When’s the test?”
“Next week.”
“Come out with me.”
“No.”
“I’m picking you up, I’m turning onto your street now.”
Jack hangs up before Carson can protest, her immediately texting Morgan to tell her she was being kidnapped.
‘You aren’t being kidnapped, you aren’t a kid.’
‘Kidnapping is anytime a person’s liberty is restrained by force and taken to another location.’
Before Morgan could text back, Jack was knocking at her door.
“I’m not going.” 
“Come on. Half an hour?” he begs her. Carson glares at him. “I’ll buy ice cream.”
“I’m lactose intolerant.”
“Says that three cheese pizza you downed the other night.” Carson continues to glare at him. “Please? I’m leaving tomorrow for a week and a half. It’ll be the last time I can bother you until then.”
Carson rolls her eyes, shutting her textbook with her highlighter keeping her page like a bookmark. “I’m studying in the car.” Jack smiles at her, holding his hand out for her. Carson smirks, grabbing another book from her table and putting it in his hands instead. 
Jack runs to follow her, his free hand on the small of her back, a smile on his face as she didn’t fight it. They get in his car, the windows down and the radio blasting as he peels away from where he was parked. 
Jack starts talking, Carson not listening in the slightest as she continues to read the book in her lap, just like she promised. 
“Wait, shut up,” Carson finally says, reaching over to turn up the music that was already loud. “I love this song.”
Jack laughs, glancing at her as he pulls up to a stop light. “Seriously? 1985 by Bowling for Soup?”
“My childhood best friend and I would listen to this song all the time growing up,” Carson explains,the smile on her face something Jack rarely got to see but loved every time. Jack’s smile mirrored hers as she started to sing along. He couldn’t help but laugh again as he listened to her. “What?”
“You are a horrible singer.”
“Yeah, because you would be better,” she snides, looking back at her book.
“Oh, of course I would be,” he says, starting to sing along with her. 
Carson cackles, a sound Jack had never heard from her before. “You are just as bad as I am.”
___________________________
He thought of her whenever that song played, his heart beating faster every time the opening guitar riff played through whatever speaker he was near. He never purposefully listened to that song. The song never played in any of the arenas they played in, except for Rogers Arena, like it was now.
___________________________
“What do you mean, ‘we’re going out tonight?’” Carson groans.
“You just finished finals, Quinn is in town, and we’re heading down the shore for the weekend.” 
“So I have to pack for a whole weekend?” 
“Unless you plan on wearing the same thing for four days, I suggest you do,” Jack says, Morgan laying on Carson’s bed laughing.
“I wish you were helpful,” Carson says, throwing a shirt at Morgan. “I’m not here to be helpful, I’m here to be comic relief.” 
“Then you should try being funny sometimes.” 
Jack laughs, his phone buzzing with a call. “I’ll be right back,” he says, getting up and answering it out of Carson’s room.
Once he was out of earshot, Morgan sits up, a giddy look on her face that caused a pit to form in Carson’s stomach. “You’re going away with him for a weekend!” Carson grimaces. “You aren’t excited?”
Carson sighs, getting up to close her door so Jack can’t hear them. “I think he wants more from whatever this is than I do.”
“What do you mean?” Morgan whispers.
“I can’t see a relationship with him.”
“Carse, he’s perfect.”
“He kind of is. Which is why I don’t see it. Anthony was perfect.”
“No, Anthony was the human equivalent of a stale ham sandwich who, if brains were money, wouldn’t have been able to buy a cup of coffee.”
“Go eat something.”
“What?”
“Your metaphors turn food related when you’re hungry.”
“My point is,” Morgan says, getting up. “Anthony is not Jack. Don’t ruin something before it starts because of something that happened with someone else.” “Hey,” Jack says, startling both of them. “Sorry, Luke was asking if we were on his way to pick him up. Are we ready to head out?” 
___________________________
He was so busy staring at her that he didn’t realize that Luke had skated up to his side.
“You didn’t know she’d be here?” Jack shakes his head. “Quinn doesn’t know you still love her?”
He shakes his head.
___________________________
Carson hated to admit it, but she was having a good time. She hated to admit that she needed to relax, especially after the intensity that she had when she was taking finals. They were sitting around a fire one of them had set up on the beach, the smell of smoke hitting Carson right in the face, the night air starting to chill around them. The guys were all laughing, their partners sitting in their laps as a few of them fell asleep. 
“Where’s Quinn?” Luke leans over Carson to ask Jack.
“You have his location,” Carson says before Jack can answer. The brothers keep anticipating Quinn with every new person that shows up, their usually prompt brother still MIA.
“I don’t know where my phone is.”
“What’s that in your left hand, bud?” 
“Right,” Luke draws out as Carson and Jack both laugh at him. “He’s supposed to be here any minute.” 
Luke gets up to head back to the house for what he claims is to use the bathroom. “He hasn’t been drunk in a while. He gets dumber as he drinks,” Jack tells her. 
Carson checks the can of beer he left behind. “Isn’t this his first drink of the night?”
“Yeah, why?”
“This can is still full.”
“He might just be dumb.” 
“Bold of you to call someone else dumb,” an unfamiliar voice comes from behind their circle around the fire. 
“I was just about to say that,” Carson says to the guy who must be Quinn, given how much he looks like his brother. 
“God, I never realized there’s two of you,” Jack says to Quinn, the color draining from his face.
“I don’t think you’d survive with two of me,” Carson says, Jack mumbling something about going to the house for a minute as he gets up, a smile on his face anyway.
“So, you must be Carson?” Quinn asks her.
“What was your first clue?” she tries to flirt, taking a sip of her drink while maintaining eye contact with him. She knew that Jack was cute, but there was something different about Quinn. She and Jack were opposites. She and Quinn were the same. 
___________________________
He still loved the way she looked in that old hoodie that she stole, the team logo faded and cut through, the number that was supposed to be the right side of her chest gone. He remembered when she stole that, the way her eyes lit up the first time he saw her in it as she told him she liked that she could wear it while he was traveling and he would still be with her. 
___________________________
“Who’s picking up Carson?” Ellen yells up the stairs. 
“I am,” Quinn and Jack both called at the same time, Jack’s mind running wild at the fact that his brother answered with him. Since meeting Quinn a few weeks ago, Carson had been mentioning him a lot more in their conversations. He shouldn’t be bothered by it. They never actually established that they were dating. Sure, they had hooked up, and sure, it was all Jack could think about since, but they were never dating.
He wasn’t Carson’s boyfriend. 
“We both are,” Jack amends, running down the stairs when he hears Quinn do the same. 
The brothers get in Quinn’s car, a smile across Quinn’s face while Jack can feel himself start to panic. “So, you’re excited to see Carson?”
“Yeah,” Quinn lets out. “I’ve missed Car.”
“Car?”
“That’s what I call her sometimes, yeah.”
“Doesn’t everyone else call her ‘Carse’ if they don’t call her Carson?”
Quinn laughs. “She said she likes when I call her ‘Car,’ instead.” Quinn keeps talking the rest of the way to the airport, both boys getting a text from her saying that she had just landed. 
Neither boy had seen Carson in weeks, but it seemed like she had been talking to Quinn much more than she had been talking to Quinn.
Quinn pulls up to the airport, both boys getting out to go find the girl they wanted to see. Jack felt like he was racing Quinn to get to her first, Quinn having no idea what was going on in Jack’s head.
They get inside, both of them looking for her. 
“Thanks for introducing us, by the way,” Quinn says, breaking the silence between them. 
“What?”
“Me and Carson. When you told me I’d love her, I didn’t realize how right you’d be.” 
Jack swallows, the pit in his stomach making him feel like he wanted to throw up. Quinn couldn’t love Carson the way Jack did.
The way Jack did?
Jack spots her first, shaking his head of the thought of loving her when he sees the Canucks sweatshirt with 43 on it hanging on her body. Jack looks at Quinn, Quinn’s favorite sweatshirt on the girl Jack wanted to be with. 
Carson spots them, a smile on her face as she runs towards them, her suitcase clumsily trailing behind her. She lets go of her suitcase, it rolling towards Jack as she runs into Quinn’s arms, acting as if Jack wasn’t there to begin with.
___________________________
Morgan says one last thing to Carson, heading back towards the concessions, probably to get them drinks. Knowing Carson, she was out with Morgan on the condition that she didn’t have to pay for drinks. Jack couldn’t help but laugh to himself, Luke giving him a strange look while he stood there, lost in thought. 
___________________________
Why would Carson want to be out right now?
She wouldn’t want to. 
So why was she out right now at a bar that was way too loud, smelled incredibly bad, and was so crowded she could barely move a muscle without hitting another person?
Morgan.
Well, and Jack.
But, mostly Morgan. 
“I hate you for this,” she yelled over whatever music was playing. 
“No, you don’t,” Morgan and Jack say at the same time, both of them laughing despite Carson sending both of them a death stare.
“You haven’t been out of your apartment in, like, two months,” Jack says as Morgan walks away to get another drink
“We went to get coffee together four times this week,” Carson rebuttes, her phone in her hand lighting up with a text from Quinn.
She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his name, not paying attention to the clear awkwardness that Jack felt when he saw his own brother’s name on her phone. She loved texting him, talking with him every free minute the two of them had. She was falling for him, and she was falling for him fast. 
Quinn loved that she was a lawyer, that she was passionate about helping people, he respected all of her decisions when it came to her uncertainty with her future. He made her laugh, he constantly made sure that she was ok and genuinely showed he cared about her.
He was everything he wanted in a guy, except that he was on the other side of the continent. 
“What’s Vancouver like?” she asks Jack, again having to yell over the noise.
Jack shrugs, “It seems a lot like New Jersey, honestly. I’m never there long enough to find out.” 
Could she see herself in Vancouver? She had looked into it, she just had to take another exam and be approved by their judicial system and she would be ok to practice law. 
Quinn had officially asked her to be his girlfriend when she went to visit the boys a few weeks ago. She wasn’t sure if Jack knew yet.
“I’m going to get another drink, do you want anything?” she asks, elbowing her way back to the bar when he says he’s fine.
“Haven’t seen you in a while,” she hears from behind her once she orders her drink. She turns around, trying not to audibly groan.
“Anthony.”
“How are you Carse?”
“Fine.”
“Just fine?”
“Do I need to give more?”
“Well, it’s a genuine question.”
“‘Fine’ is a genuine answer. What do you want, Anthony?”
“When can we get back together?”
Carson scoffs, the bartender handing her her drink that she was now tempted to throw in his face. “We’re not.”
“Come on, Carse,” he says, taking a step toward her, his hand trailing down her arm. “We had so much fun together. Why do we want to throw all that away?”
“I have a boyfriend, Anthony.”
“I don’t see him.”
Before Carson could answer, she feels Jack come up behind her, thankful that it was him and not some other stranger. “Babe, I told you, I was paying for drinks tonight.”
Carson looks up at him, turning toward him so Anthony couldn’t see her mouth a quick ‘thank you,’ to him. “I put it on your tab, don’t worry,” she turns back to Anthony, the smile on her face because of the stupid look on his face. “Anthony, meet my boyfriend, Jack.”
Anthony mumbles something, walking away before either of them could say anything else. 
“I owe you,” Carson says once Anthony is far enough away neither of them could see him.
“Well, drinks are on me tonight,” he says, earning a laugh from her. “Nice job, lying about the boyfriend thing. Think we’ll have to keep it up until we leave?”
Carson laughs again. “I wasn’t lying about having a boyfriend.”
“What?” Jack asks, Carson not noticing the panic on his face.
“Quinn asked me to be his girlfriend.” 
Before Jack can respond, Morgan runs over, squealing something about how their song was playing and that they just had to go dance. Carson quickly hands her drink to Jack, running off with her friend.
Jack downs the drink, ordering another. 
His brother got the girl.
___________________________
He sees Carson waving to someone down on the ice, his heart racing in the worst way because he knew it wasn’t to him. Jack followed her gaze to Quinn, who was waving back at her, a smile on his face while he was on the ice when he was notorious for looking like he was having an existential crisis all the time. He should hate the guy who got to love the girl he wanted to be with. But how could he hate his brother? 
___________________________
“You’re what?”
“I’m moving to Vancouver.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I’m coming, too.”
“No you aren’t.”
“I can’t live without you.”
“Morgan,” Carson whines, “You’re going to be fine.”
Morgan groans, rolling her eyes. “I’m being dramatic, let me mourn.” The girls laugh, Carson getting up to grab a drink. “So, you and Quinn are actually serious?”
“Yeah, I mean, we have to be if I’m willing to move across the continent and to another country.”
“Are you going to be able to practice law?”
Before Carson can answer, a knock at her doors follows with someone walking in.
“Are you a murderer?” Morgan yells to the stranger from Carson’s kitchen, prompting Carson to roll her eyes.
“Definitely,” Jack says, appearing in the doorway. “I got us dinner,” he says, holding up a bag. “What are we talking about?”
“If Carson can practice law or not.”
Jack laughs, setting down the food. “How did you manage to get disbarred already? You passed like three months ago.” 
“I shot a man in Reno,” Carson deadpans. “I didn’t get disbarred. I’m just,” she hesitates, knowing that telling the two people who were her best friends was going to be the hardest. “I’m moving.”
Jack’s attention snaps to Carson, a look of panic on his face. “Where?”
“She’s moving in with Quinn.”
“You’re moving to Vancouver?”
“Yeah. Quinn asked me last week to move out there with him, and I told him yes today.” 
Jack didn’t hear anything else while the three of them sat at Carson’s table and ate the food Jack brought. She would be able to practice law in Canada with a few more steps to get there, she would be living with Quinn.
She would be away from Jack. 
She would never be with Jack. 
___________________________
He could see the engagement ring on her finger from here, the sapphire in the middle catching the light in just the right way. His mother had their grandmother’s engagement ring, something much more simple, that had been intended for whichever boy wanted to give it to their future partner. Jack didn’t want to give it to anyone. He knew that their grandmother’s ring was picked for their grandmother. He wanted to give his person a ring meant for them. He wanted to give a ring he knew would suit her and would make her think of him whenever she looked at it. That’s why he and Quinn had helped the jeweler design it in the first place. It had to be made for her.
___________________________
Quinn had texted in the family group chat that the ring was ready and that he was picking it up from the jeweler that day after practice.
Everyone in the family congratulated him, his mom gushing about how excited she was to have a daughter, and how happy she was that it was Carson. His dad talked about how he was glad Quinn found someone who made him happy. Luke gave a thumbs up and texted in the group chat without their parents something stupid that Jack still hadn’t read yet.
Jack said nothing.
And he wasn’t sure anyone noticed. 
Quinn and Carson were going to be engaged soon.
Jack didn’t know who to talk to, his finger hovering over Carson’s contact. He shouldn’t call her. He could call Morgan. But he knew Morgan was busy doing something with her job. He didn’t want to bother her.
He pressed it, turning on the speaker and pushing his phone away from him before he could hang up. 
“Hello?” her name comes out of his speaker. He opens his mouth to say something, realizing he had no idea where to begin. “Jack, are you ok?”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry, dropped my phone,” he lied, lunging to grab it. “We haven’t talked in a while.”
Carson laughs, Jack’s insides jumping at the sound he hadn’t heard in a while. “Yeah, it has been a while.”
“How are things?” he asks, silently smacking his forehead at how stupid he sounded. He used to be able to talk to her with ease, having conversations that would go on for hours before either of them even found any silence between them. 
Now he could barely talk to her, the sound of her voice something he wanted to hear so badly, something he missed more than he could actually put into words, and he didn’t know what to say so that he could listen to her. 
“Things are actually really great,” she says. He could hear the smile on her face coming through the phone. “Quinn and I just work together, you know?” 
“Yeah, yeah,” he repeats to himself, trying to hide the pain he felt hearing that. “Have you and Quinn talked about
” he starts, his voice trailing off, the words catching in his throat knowing that Quinn could technically ask her at any moment. 
“About what?”
“About you guys getting married?”
Carson stays quiet for a second, a smile on her face forming that broke Jack’s heart with every millimeter it grew. “Yeah, we have.”
“And?” 
Carson’s cheeks turned red. “He hasn’t told me outright, but I think he’s proposing soon.”
Jack’s heart fully shattered, a fake smile on his face. “That’s great.”
“He hasn’t talked to you about it at all?”
“We, uh,” he starts, running his hand through his hair as he laid down on his bed. “We haven’t been able to get each other on the phone lately.” The two of them sat in silence, one of the first times neither of them knew what to say to each other. Conversation used to be so easy between them. “Don’t do it.”
“What?” Carson asks, Jack unsure if she didn’t hear him or thought she didn’t.
“Don’t get engaged to him.” 
“Jack-”
“Carson, I still love you,” he blurts out, leaving Carson stunned. “Carson, please say something.” He wasn’t planning on telling her during this conversation. He wasn’t planning on telling her at all. 
“Still?”
“I think I started falling for you the first minute I saw you.” 
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Jack swallows, trying to stop his voice from cracking. “By the time I realized it, you were already falling in love with Quinn.”
“Jack.” 
“How could I tell you I love you when I was watching you fall in love with my older brother?”
“Jack.”
“How am I supposed to sit here knowing that you’re going to spend the rest of your life with someone who is perfect for you knowing that I was so close to being that person?” he says outloud.
“What do you want me to say?” she whispers.
“Tell me you won’t do it.”
Carson squeezes her eyes shut, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I can’t.” 
“Carson.”
“Jack, I love Quinn. And he loves me. It has to go both ways. I can’t tell him ‘no’ because you feel something for me that I never felt for you.” Jack says nothing, mostly because he doesn’t know what to say. “I have to go. Quinn will be home any minute.”
Carson hangs up, without saying another word, the front door opening as she whipped away her tears. 
“Hey,” Quinn says, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “You ready to head out?”
“Uh, just give me a minute. I was talking to Jack and got distracted.”
“Yeah? How is he? I haven’t heard from him in a while.” 
“He mentioned that,” Carson nods, getting up from her chair. “I’m gonna go grab my shoes.”
Quinn watches her walk away, checking his pockets to make sure he had everything he needed for the night. 
Phone, check.
Keys, check.
Wallet, check.
Engagement ring.
Check.
___________________________
Quinn skates over to his brothers, who were still standing next to each other. The crowd starts yelling, as they normally do when the three brothers are on the same ice at the same time. Luke and Jack greet Quinn, Jack trying to pretend like he wasn’t distracted. 
“Hey, wait,” Quinn says when the two are about to skate away. Luke hangs back slightly, pretending not to listen. “Carson wants to get together after the game, all four of us.”
Jack looks at Luke. “Uh, we have a flight out tonight.”
“Luke said you guys are leaving until the morning.” 
“It got changed,” Jack lies, making a mental note to turn off his location and hope he can convince Luke to do the same. “The weather’s supposed to be too bad to fly out in the morning.”
“Come on. It’s the last time we’ll be able to get together, just the four of us, before the wedding.” 
___________________________
“Ready to go?” Luke asks, suitcase in hand as their boarding group gets called. 
“No,” Jack mumbles. 
Luke rolls his eyes, yanking Jack by the arm to pull him towards the plane. “What’s your problem with Carson?” Jack fastens his seatbelt, pretending not to hear his younger brother. “Dude.”
“I don’t have a problem with Carson.”
“Then why do you shut down and act like a prick any time we go see them, or anytime her name is mentioned?” Jack doesn’t say anything. “No, we have 6 hours on this plane, so either you are going to use that time to tell me why you have a problem with our future sister-in-law or I’m going to tell Quinn that I’m worried you’re going to Richard Ramirez her in her sleep.” 
Jack looks at his brother with a look of horror. “What the fuck? I’m not the Night Stalker.” 
“Talk,” Luke pokes his brother’s side.
“I liked Carson before she met Quinn.”
“You’re acting like this because you had a crush on her?”
“I’m acting like this because I fell in love with her and she never even thought of me that way.” 
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
“Every interaction you’ve ever had with her now makes sense.”
“What?”
“Every time you talk to her, you have that look on your face like she was telling you she killed your first born.” Jack looks at him horrified, again. “Yeah, like that.”
“Stop watching CSI.” 
“There’s so many seasons.”
Luke keeps talking about something while he doesn’t realize Jack is barely paying attention, interjecting with a generic confirmatory noise every once in a while until Jack finally pretends to go to sleep. 
His brother eventually falls asleep instead, leaving Jack alone with his thoughts without his brother’s voice in his ear. He hadn’t seen or talked to Carson since the night she called him before Quinn had proposed. She went from a stranger, to someone he could see in his life forever, back to a stranger. 
He couldn’t even talk to a girl anymore without thinking of Carson, how she compared to her, how her humor and deadpan delivery wasn’t the same as Carson’s, how she didn’t look like Carson or walk like Carson. He was in love with his brother’s fiance, on his way to their engagement party.
___________________________
Jack barely processed what happened during the game. He made the plays he had to, passed the puck when he needed to, but his mind was empty. 
After the game, Luke comes up to him once they're both dressed. “Ready for this?”
“No.”
“Let’s do it, then.” 
They wait for Quinn outside, the adrenaline coursing through him more than he wanted to admit. He wasn’t sure he could face her, even after all this time.
“Hi,” he hears behind him, the voice he once loved now sending panic through him. 
“Hi.”
___________________________
“Alright, you’ve got to get it together,” Luke says as they get out of the car that brought them to the venue. Their parents were already inside, Carson and Quinn definitely inside. 
“I’ll be fine,” he lies, a gift in shaking hand as he opens the door with the other to let Luke go first. He took a deep breath, bracing himself to go in and face Carson for the first time since their phone call the night they ended up getting engaged. “I’ll be fine.”
The party was set up in a way that made exact sense for Carson, it was classy and elegant, while still having shades of Quinn’s chaos thrown in here and there. He didn’t know exactly why it made sense for them, but it did. 
Because they made sense.
“Hi,” he hears behind him, causing him to jump. Carson stands behind him, a short white dress fitting her perfectly in a way that made his heart race. He knew there was a reason to wear a black shirt, and it was to hide the sweat that he felt coming on just being around her. “How are you?”
“Good,” he says, holding out the gift. “This is from us.”
“Us?”
“Um,” he shakes his head, letting out a nervous laugh. “Me and Luke. You didn’t expect him to pick something out on his own, did you?’
“No, not at all.” 
They stand in silence, neither of them knowing what to do. “You look good,” he says, probably one of the first opinions he shared that actually had some semblance of truth to it.
“Thanks, you do, too. How are things?”
“Things are good,” he says, trying not to cringe at how awkward this whole thing felt. He shouldn't have come, but how was he going to say no to the girl he loved and his own brother? “I’m seeing someone, actually,” he hears himself say, surprised by the lie he didn’t know was coming.
“Really?” her eyes light up. “Jack, that’s great. Quinn didn’t tell me that.”
“It’s still new. I haven’t really said anything about it to Quinn yet. I don’t want to jinx it, you know?”
“I get it,” she nods, a smile still lighting up her face. “I’m so happy for you.”
She pulls him in for a hug, Jack keeping one of his hands in his pants pocket. He knew himself too well; if he hugged her too tight, he wouldn’t want to let go.
He hated how corny and stupid he felt. She is his older brother's fiance. He had to forget about her in that way. 
“Hey,” Quinn joins them, pulling Jack in for a hug. “Sorry to interrupt, but Car, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
“Go, go, I need to find my way to a drink anyway,” Jack waves them off.
Carson takes Quinn’s hand, turning to be led off somewhere by Quinn. She turns over her shoulder, smiling at Jack, as he watched the two of them walk off. She turns away, Jack staring up at the ceiling, not wanting to watch her walk away.
___________________________
The four of them get to a restaurant Quinn had taken his brothers to before, despite the fact that Jack couldn’t remember the name for the life of him. 
Jack sets his phone on the table, the rest of them doing the same.
As they order, Jack’s phone lights up with a text from Morgan: ‘When do you come home? I miss you.’
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scotianostra · 1 year ago
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On July 11th 1274 Robert the Bruce was born in Turnberry Castle, Ayrshire.
Sorry for the lack of posts yesterday I was out the house all day, I am showing friends round Edinburgh today but will try and get a few posts scheduled, this first one is of course a "biggie"
I don't like repeating the same old story, especially on posts like this, The Bruce turns up so often in my posts that it isn't any wonder he is part of the Scottish Psyche. In 2006 Robert the Bruce came third in a poll of ‘most important Scots’, behind William Wallace and Robert Burns. Leaving aside what that says about the nation that produced, among others, David Hume and Adam Smith, Alexander Fleming and John Logie Baird, there can be no doubt that a king that ruled 700 years ago is still very much remembered by Scots today and, even more pertinently, that his life and achievements are deemed to be profoundly influential. It is hard to imagine Edward III or Henry V of England being similarly admired.
Not a lot is known about Robert's early life so unfortunately I do end up repeating parts of his life.....
Looking into how he came to be our Monarch, Bruce’s grandfather had come off second best in 1292 to a rival claimant to the Scottish throne, John Balliol, who then reigned for four years until Edward I deprived him of his kingship in 1296. John Comyn of Badenoch, as Balliol’s nephew, had both an arguably better claim by blood and certainly by power, influence and track record than Robert Bruce, for his own ambitions, whether it be just to become King, or for the sake of ridding Scotland of Edwards army Robert had to ‘deal’ with his rival before seeking the throne for himself.
In this fracturing and fevered environment, the would-be king turned to Bishop Robert Wishart of Glasgow, a man who had shown himself consistently motivated since the 1280s by a desire to keep Scotland intact and independent (though he, like most Scots, had on occasions been forced to acknowledge King Edward as ruler of the northern kingdom). We do not know that Bishop Wishart made Bruce ‘swear upon the Holy Gospels and the tomb of St Kentigern’ to pursue the cause of Scottish independence with his life, if necessary. Equally, no chronicler at the time mentions the introduction of elements of sacramental kingship that the Scots had long sought from the pope but been denied thanks to English claims of overlordship on the day that Bruce finally did become king.
If you've seen the new film about The Bruce, you will know it is all about the man himself, rather than the historical facts in his reign, and that's why I liked it, I mean come on, we ALL know the story by now and if you don't what have you been doing for the past few years as you haven't been reading my posts!
Robert Bruce, was a man possessed with the ability to think laterally and effectively on almost every issue but saddled by his own hand with one of the most dodgy starts to a successful reign as any in history. Some say he learned to think this way after observing William Wallace, I also like to think this, but he had enough savvy himself to be his own man.
The problem with looking at Scotland in those heady days is that, unlike England, we hardly wrote anything down, Edward and his constant war waging meant he had to raise money for these attacks on Scotland and Wales beforehand, so the English always had that extra layer of bureaucracy, while historians can look at some of their records to glean information about Scotland, we mainly have to look at Chroniclers, like Lanecrost, or the likes of Blind Harry, the author of "he Actes and Deidis of the Illustre and Vallyeant Campioun Schir William Wallace" And John Barbour who wrote "The Brus". In the first case Harry wrote his epic over 150 years after William Wallace's murder. At least Barbour was living in an age where The Bruce was alive, albeit for nine of the years, but events and stories were still fresh and must have been repeated often about our Kings heroics in unting Scotland and vanquishing the English. But Barbour was never going to write anything negative about Bruce, it was Robert II, the first of the Stewart line, that asked Barbour to write the poem, it was always going to be a great propaganda exercise.
Okay let's go back a wee bit, there has been some debate about where Bruce was born, some mischief makers even suggest he was not born at Turnberry, after all we have no diminutive proof, but at Writtle in deepest Essex. The Bruce family owned swathes of land down south, and there is no doubt the young Robert would have spent time in the depths of the English royal courts, he was not uncouth Scottish brute, he grew up in a world of fluid identities, no doubt speaking a number of languages, and with easy access to both the overtly powerful and impressively formal English court as well as the highly personal and personable style of kingship still preferred in Scotland.
One of the things Robert the Bruce may very well have learned from the English and used most notably was the commandeering of noble seals to be attached to documents of state in order to present a veneer of unity to the outside world, this is most notable in the 1320 Declaration of Arbroath, it has been argued he took this inspiration from King Edwards, Ragman Rolls, Edward I’s large-scale demand for Scottish seals to acknowledge his right to rule Scotland in 1296.
After Bannockburn and the Declaration of Arbroath King Robert’s genius as a lawmaker and diplomat to rival his undoubted skill as a military leader has also been admired, he had a fine line to tread, while he had gained the upper hand against Edward II's army, many Scots fought against him that day, or at very least supported the English. Even after his death some of those families on the losing side that would come back to try and regain lands and titles from the second Bruce monarch, his son King David II.
The pics are King Robert's statue at Bannockburn and two reconstructions of how Turnbery may have looked, by my Twitter friend Andrew Spratt.
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mags-writes · 2 years ago
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Unconfirmed - part 2 || Rick Flag x OC
Summary: After Maeve O'Malley goes to prison for assassination and narrowly avoids getting the Blackcat moniker slapped on her record, she's pulled from her cell and brought into the chaos awaiting in Midway City. Only thing is, she was explicitly requested by Rick Flag, her former squad leader and Colonel back when they were in the special forces together. And they didn't end on the best of terms. Despite that, they easily slip back into their former banter but how long can it last when he won't tell her all the details of what exactly she's going up against?
Warnings: Canon-level violence, Aussie-level swearing, Harley/Joker-level abuse, angst, slow burn
Pairing: Rick Flag x Maeve O'Malley (OC)
Length: 2.7k words
Masterlist || Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Epilogue
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"I should be driving." Maeve said for the hundredth time.
It made Rick roll his eyes again from across her and repeat some variation of what he's already said on the matter.
"These are some of the best pilots we have. We'll be fine." His tone had no indication of shutting her up like he would the other criminals. He spoke like he was talking to a child in the back seat asking over and over again if they were there yet.
"Oh god." Was Maeve's response, making Rick snap his gaze to her almost immediately. She had her eyes squeezed shut and she was gripping the seatbelt straps, pressing back in her seat like she was trying to disappear.
He knew what this was. They were about to get hit. And she couldn't do a damn thing about it.
Maeve had been born with the uncanny ability to dodge anything that was airborne and coming her way at any speed. She could dodge bullets, knives, punches, and ass slaps all the same. The only scars she had were from when someone else got involved. She was only ever shot when someone was trying to shoot at Rick. She got them out of the way but it was like she traded places for them. Most of the time she could keep up and keep both parties safe but sometimes luck wasn't on her side.
Rick also thought she could see through walls but he hadn't voiced that theory to anyone yet.
"Oh god, oh god!" Maeve was getting more and more panicked as the seconds ticked by and Rick could only hold on to his own seat belt straps for whatever they were about to be hit with.
"What's up with that chick?" An Aussie accent rang out just before they were, indeed, shot.
The chopper jostled with the impact before taking a sudden nose dive. It hit the ground below them and then started rolling. Screams and laughter alike were heard screeching in the small cabin before it finally stopped and they were all left hanging upside down.
"I should've been driving."
They eventually made their way out of the unrecoverable chopper to the other one filled with all of Rick's army buddies that managed to not get hit and Maeve stumbled her way over.
"Lookin' good, Sarge!" Lieutenant GQ Edwards was a loyal son of a bitch but he had one fuckin attitude with Maeve.
"Shut up, Edwards!"
"Both of you shut it." Rick ordered, rifle out and finger on the trigger. "Let's move out."
They all walked in relative silence, the army boys actively scanning every inch of new terrain they came upon. Rick told them to take it easy and not to worry until Maeve was on edge. Edwards rolled his eyes.
"Remind me again why Katana is here." Maeve didn't look at Rick when she questioned him, trying to come off as aloof and like she didn't care about his answer. "What's wrong? Don't trust me anymore?"
"She's got my back. You've got my everything." Was his simple answer. "Besides, I needed at least one crazy person out here with me without a bomb in their neck."
"Oh, yeah, thanks for that." She said sarcastically, now turning to look at him with an unimpressed expression.
"Hey, I got you out of your cell for a while, didn't I?" He nudged her when he saw her trying to suppress the smallest smile on the face of the earth. Only rivaled by Nessa. "As for the bomb in your neck... can't do much but play by Waller's rules."
She scoffed, kicking something out of the way before speaking again. "Can I ask you a personal question?"
"All that wasn't personal?" He took his time kicking the same debris when they came up to it again.
"Why do you look like you're running on three hours sleep and five lines of cocaine?" She deadpanned, making him look at her with an insulted expression.
"I do not." He said after a pause. "I would never do cocaine."
"Oh, my bad," she replied sarcastically again. "Why do you look like you're running on three hours sleep and six espressos?"
"If you're trying to say I look like shit, just say it." He countered.
"You look like shit." She met him step after step, she always did. "You look worse than the dog shit under my boot. You look worse than hungover Edwards with his head in the toilet."
"Hey!" Edwards called out. "It was one time!" Making them both look at him before turning back to each other.
"My question still stands."
"Heh," Harley interrupted, coming up from behind Maeve and bringing her arm around her shoulders. "You two are cute. Ya married or somethin'?"
"God no." Rick and Maeve answered in unison.
"Personally I have been working on my finger-blasting game with some consenting bitches in prison." Maeve's words made Rick blink in surprise before turning his head, acting like he wasn't about to laugh. "I don't know what this guy's been up to but I know it's juicy if he won't give me a straight answer."
"Can we keep moving, please?" He deflected, walking a bit faster and falling out of step with the women.
"Oh, you're right!" Harley giggled, hugging her a little tighter before letting go and walking beside Maeve. "How ya been Kitty?"
Kitty. It was a cute nickname Harley had been calling her ever since they ran into each other and Harley was bleeding out from a gunshot wound. She had been delirious at the time and recognised from the gear who Maeve was but the new high-tech heat vision goggles perched on her head looked like cat ears when they weren't in use. The nickname tumbled out before Harley could stop herself, and it cemented in her memory forever.
Maeve took pity and took her back to a safehouse, cleaning her up, stitching her up, and feeding her. In return, Harley told the Joker about how well Kitty had taken care of her and issued a no-kill order on Maeve for his whole territory. That no-kill order only lasts as long as Harley is in Joker's good books and unfortunately, Maeve is always aware of their relationship status due to if someone is going out of their way to kill her whenever she steps foot in Joker's territory.
"Well, no one's been trying to shank me in prison, so I guess that means you and the clown are still on." Maeve kept her voice down, she wanted Rick to have deniability about her as much as possible.
"Oh, Kitty. We're always on." Harley playfully whacked her arm limply.
"Even that time he chained you in the basement for a week with no food and I had to come and break your ass out at your sister's request?" Maeve countered.
"Hey! I told you, Mr. J was just playin'!" Harley defended, taking offense that her psycho, serial murdering, clown boyfriend could do anything wrong.
Maeve hummed in response.
Suddenly a scuffle breaks out and one of the criminals shoots a wire up to the buildings to escape. Maeve doesn't move, turning instead to the other one that was trying to escape at the same time. As she approached, he threw a boomerang at Katana, but she jumped into a front flip to avoid it before she had her sword at his throat. Maeve would've continued paying attention but something was itching at the side of her neck.
She knew it wasn't anything she needed to dodge, but it was a prickling feeling making her twitch. She turned, her eyes catching a flash of movement before everything went still again. It felt like a hundred pairs of eyes were on her for a split second, and now it was gone. No one was aiming anything at her now but she couldn't ignore whatever itch just came up.
She was interrupted from her thoughts when a small explosion went off and the guy with all the wires was suddenly hanging upside down in front of her... without his head.
Rick was speaking, she couldn't discern what it was in her shock as her hand came up to clamp down on the part of her neck that had been injected. She well and truly had a fucking bomb sitting at the base of her skull.
"That's what you put in me?" She yelled, her eyes swiveling to Rick who suddenly grimaced. "You took me from my fucking cell to do that to me?"
"Hope you're not gonna play favourites with the criminals, Colonel." Edwards called out.
"Shut up, Edwards!" Maeve pointed a finger at him. "I was acting under duress!"
"Can you get a hold of yourself?" Rick roughly took a hold of her elbow and moved her slightly out of earshot, lowering his voice.
"How can I get a hold of myself when at any moment, these idiots could get you killed and I'll have my fuckin' head blown off!"
"That's not goin' to happen to you!" His answer shocked her into silence, her eyes wide and mouth open before she narrowed her eyes and set her face into a glare.
"So you are going to play favourites."
Rick turned aspirated, looking like he was about to grab her shoulders and shake some sense into her. "What answer do you want from me?"
"I am so glad you asked-" she went to bring her hands up, ready to number her demands on each of her fingers when he slapped them down again.
"Stop it! Just have my back, do as you're told, and stay alive." He actually did take a hold of her shoulders this time, turned her to face the others, and started walking. "That's all I'm asking."
"Mallacht mo chait ort." She cursed in her native Irish, putting as much venom into her words as she could.
"You don't own a cat." Rick countered, shoving her a little to keep walking.
"You don't know that!"
Maeve did as she was told. Keeping her eyes peeled for anything trying to shoot at Rick. It wasn't long until she felt that itch again. Like there was something pointed at her with their finger on the trigger and every intention of shooting but hesitating.
It made her twitch. It made her tick. It made her flinch. And Rick saw all of it.
"Hold!" He called out, holding his fist up and frowning at her. "What is it?"
Maeve suddenly felt it in a different direction, making her flinch back and snap her head. There was nothing there, no movement, no person.
Another twitch. This time from a couple stories above them. This time she used the scope of her rifle to see through the windows, going as far as to pull her goggles on when that turned up nothing.
"Kitty?" Called out Harley with a worried tone.
Maeve spun in the opposite direction everyone was facing, goggles firmly in place and rapidly searching for anything to turn up.
"I don't know." Despite her words, she pointed behind her before turning in that direction again, keeping the goggles on. "Something's definitely that way though."
Rick got his boys to go ahead, surveying the area and seeing if the path was clear. What they came across made their skin crawl.
Maeve let Rick do his thing, communicating with base about what to do and where to go, if the other team was responding at their location. She stood firmly in place behind a car when Deadshot came up next to her, bumping shoulders with her and staring puzzled at what was in front of them.
"They're not giving off a heat signature." She reported, moving the goggles back to the top of her head, having no more use for them now. "At least not with these. You?"
"What the hell are they?" He asked, ignoring her question. "Flag said, terrorists."
"Flag lied about terrorists." She corrected. "He's fucked up. He won't give me a straight answer on anything. He's keeping things from me."
Deadshot turned to her with a questioning frown. "And you said you're not married?"
"That is what I said, yes." She said defensively, trying to act like she couldn't feel her cheeks heat up.
They both had their chance at a real relationship once, but it had been wrong place, wrong time. They were waist-deep in their work and more than content to simply work together than try and possibly ruin it by getting serious. They knew each other better than any spouse will come to know the other, and that was okay with them. A dare issued by Edwards that they would get married if they were both single by 2018 had Maeve by the heartstrings though. She wondered a lot in her cell if that dare was the reason she could never commit to a relationship after that.
"Hey, I like these odds, mate, you just say the word." The stench of Digger Harkness drew Maeve out of her thoughts before his words could get the chance.
"Yeah." Harley agreed quietly.
"Pardon?" Maeve asked.
"C'mon." She persisted when she saw Deadshot hesitate.
"Yeah," Deadshot did hesitate, taking out his eyepiece so he could get a better look at the figures in front of them. "Uh, hold that thought."
"What's his deal?" Harley came closer to Maeve, wrapping her arm around her shoulders again and leaning in.
"Despite being bad guys, this might be something really fucked up even for you." Maeve answered, bringing her arm around Harley's waist and leaning into her.
They both watched as Deadshot brought up his weapon, most likely using the scope to get a better look at what was in front of them. When he did, Maeve twitched. The feeling was back. And like a switch, the figures in front of them descended upon them and the shooting started. Before Maeve surged forward, she saw Digger open a can of energy drink before slinking off into the shadows into an alley and she couldn't help but be a little jealous. She quickly came to a stop next to Rick, knowing she couldn't stop firing until they were all down. Except they weren't going down.
She knew that being around Rick and the boys meant she had to go back to her military training, no immediate headshots. As opposed to her mercenary night job, only headshots. But military training wasn't doing shit right now so she switched it up. She reloaded and this time didn't hesitate to aim for the head, doing a far better job at keeping them back now as their head shattered and they fell.
"Get off me!" She heard Rick shout, making her snap her head in his direction. She reloaded again and started firing. "Get off me you son of a-"
She only shot any extra ones from piling on top of them, trusting that someone would notice and do something about the ones already swarming him.
"Flag!" Edwards had noticed, good. He was always a good aim.
Harley must have said something because Deadshot started yelling at her, "Harley! He dies, we die!"
As soon as Harley and Edwards move in on the group, she lets up and waits for them to finish, not wanting to hit anyone with friendly fire by accident.
"Thanks." Rick says, being hauled up by both his saviours.
"Shut up." Harley retorts.
Rick looks up just in time to make eye contact with Maeve before she gets tackled from the side. It makes her yell out and on instinct take out her knife, wildly stabbing at anything available to her. The thing puts her down but only to try swiping at her, which she avoids before embedding her knife into the skull and viciously ripping it out with a grunt. Maeve movements have a deadly precision to them and the men around her move out of the way when they see her teeth bared.
She sheaths her knife.
She reloads.
She walks over to a car that Deadshot had taken up residence on.
She gets herself comfortable on the roof on one knee and the other one propped up for the kickback of her rifle.
She starts firing again.
Maeve was numb. Headshot after headshot in a daze and completely zoned out. Back in a warzone for shitty benefits from the government shooting at human-shaped moving objects that screamed. Everything blurred. They didn't stand a chance.
"Sargent."
Maeve looked around to see nothing moving. When had she stopped firing? When had she started breathing so hard?
Rick dragged her down from the roof of the car, moving the rifle to sit on her shoulder on the strap and grabbing her face in his hands.
"C'mon, I need you up and walkin'." He mumbled loud enough for her to hear, lightly moving her face from side to side to get her attention. "Don't get like this on me, Sargent. Not now."
Maeve blinked a handful of times, trying to will the daze away.
Deep breath in.
Hold.
And out.
Repeat.
Focus on Rick, on his hold on her face, and the callus on his trigger finger behind her ear.
Maeve nods, swallowing hard and humming to let him know she was back.
"Yeah?" He asked, leaning down slightly to look at her properly, eyes flittering between hers.
"Yeah." She confirmed with a nod.
Speaking felt heavy in her mouth, eye contact felt like looking at the devil, and moving was like dragging herself through a bog, but she persisted.
Rick knew this. Rick knew all of this. So he took her rifle, putting it back in her hands, unloading the empty mag, and taking one out of his own supply. She swallowed again, taking hold of the tac vest on Rick's chest, and cast her eyes upward. Deadshot walked over then, looking as severe as the grave.
"That's how I cut and run." He said, watching as Rick, without looking at his hands, loaded the mag in and shoved it into place.
The movement jostled Maeve and Rick moved her, bringing his arm around her shoulders and started getting her walking.
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swiftscion · 11 months ago
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You know, in hindsight, it's kind of hard to set up the perfect ambush if you purposely picked the jingliest, jangliest bell you could get your hands on to put on your festive hat of choice. Realising this, Edward simply drops any attempt at stealth and wholesale jumps at Larcei as soon as he spots her, skidding into her path and pulling Caladbolg out of its sheath to swing at her, fully expecting a parry or dodge and ready to adjust accordingly.
"Happy Winter Festival!!" he shouts, by way of greeting, before moving to disengage. "I got a present for you!" He holds up his messenger bag, then lets it drop against his hip again as emphasis. "It's actually not us beating the stuffing out of eachother, by the way."
Without further ado, he stuffs his free hand into the bag, shuffling around wildly, before realising this is best done with two hands, resheathing Caladbolg and resuming his search; Finally going 'aha!' and pulling his arm back out with a little parcel, containing a miniature carving of a wolf with a star between its teeth, along with a pair of star-patterned black stockings.
"Here, for you!" He puffs up proudly, patting Caladbolg's hilt. "You can repay me with a good fight, by the way — I need a warmup, it's freaking cold
!"
That idiot. If Edward seriously thought he could get the upper hand in a fight versus her, then maybe it's high time she knock some sense into him. Larcei watches his entire attack from start-to-finish, unsheathing her stellar Brave Sword in time to catch Caladbolg's swing. But damn is this thing heavy! As metal grinds against metal--sparks flying this way and that--her eyes blaze with roused spirit. This is how warriors ought to greet one another: with their swords!
The only key to their blade-lock is brute strength, which the scion places into her lower half with a step forward. Her power has always come from the legs. When she uses them in tandem with her sword-arm, even her lithe frame can move mountains. But she doesn't get the chance to get serious before he moves back. For now.
She's smiling by the time he opens his mouth.
"Oh?" says a mocking tone, "You almost had me excited, Edward." So what, pray tell, could be better than a battle with her greatest rival? Larcei stands on her toes as Edward does his rummaging around, shifting her stance once or twice to get a sneak peak at his pouch. She isn't so lucky, and sees the statue for the first time as the boy unveils it.
Her jaw drops.
That kid couldn't have possibly made something like this, could he? Her blade is lowered and she walks closer, taking the gift into her spare hand to marvel at in awe. It looks like it was done by a pro, but at the same time is so personalized that it could have only been conceived by his baffling mind. She searches for a signature, and finds none.
"H-Hey, this is really cool...!" And with the carving tucked under Larcei's fist, Edward receives a swift punch to his shoulder. "The hell are you gettin' me this for?! Now I've gotta pay you back for it!"
That, she silently swears. Beneath her breath, beneath every fiery word--beneath the bond of friendship she envisions as a rope tying them together. No sword stroke could cut that rope, and now, it's adorned with the gold of Larcei's Isaachian promise.
"Alright Edward..." she taunts, setting the statue down. Her wings unburdened, she is free to fly at him with her scorching smirk.
"Let's go! Maybe dodging this will get you fired up--!!"
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ineffablesnakegender · 2 years ago
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Right! Ok so I’m almost done with that ofmd fic I was talking about (funny how fast I can write when I like what I’m writing) and I wanted to know if anyone wants to be tagged in it OR any of the other fics I have lined up. Sorry for the long post :(
-Our flag means forgiveness- <WIP title
Stede makes his way back to the Revenge to find that his books have been thrown overboard can he manage to forgive Edward for this heinous injustice? (Hurt/comfort. Gentlebeard. Panic attacks. Less than canon typical violence. Autistic Edward and Stede bc they me fr.)
-I’m not a fucking damsel-
The Revenge is in a heated battle with a rival crew when Izzy is about to be stabbed Stede saves him but they get separated from the crew naturally Izzy is furious so he storms off and is promptly kidnapped it’s up to Stede to save him. (Hurt/comfort. Stizzy. Slightly above canon typical violence? If they read as autistic that’s bc I’m autistic.)
-a boyfriend for every occasion-
This one is pretty straightforward everyone is dating each other and it’s soft. (Fluff. Revenge+BB’s crew. No violence just love. Everyone is autistic on this ship actually.)
-and there was only one under the bed-
The “and there was only one bed” trope but Izzy and Ed are monsters under the bed and the bed is Stede’s :) (not smut. ✹comedy✹. Au modern/monster. Steddy hands. Nobody gets hurt but there is bickering. If they read as autistic that’s bc I’m autistic.)
-all bets on Izzy-
Lucius holds a competition to see who can seduce Izzy first but Izzy catches on the second he tries but Ed didn’t even know about the competition. (Slight hurt/comfort mostly funnies. Ficlet. Edizzy. No violence. If they read as autistic that’s bc I’m autistic.)
-I want a divorce-
Edward and Izzy are married and anytime Ed does something stupid Izzy says he wants a divorce (all laughs. Ficlet. Edizzy. Canon typical violence. If they read as autistic that’s bc I’m autistic.)
-Pedro-
Jim and Frenchie sneak a kid on board so of course Izzy ends up taking care of it. (Fluff. Izzy redemption arc. No ships*yet*. Canon typical violence. Autistic Izzy and autistic child*Pedro*. Multi chapter.)
-I’m not a monster Jim- <WIP title
Elder trans Izzy helps Jim. (Ficlet. Fluff. I’m really into Izzy being a father figure ig. No ships. No violence. Trans Izzy. If they read as autistic that’s bc I’m autistic.)
— now for the half thought out ideas —
Ofmd everyone monster au
BB+Revenge switch
Stede gets Izzy in the divorce????
Stede captains the BB crew
Ofmd but it’s wwdits???
Modern au?
Izzy turns into dog/cat/bird/mouse/snake/idk??
Izzy’s old friends?
Can you tell who my favorite is??
Lesbians!
What if vampire Ed
Trans Spanish Jackie??
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catanddragons · 1 year ago
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So I did finally finish A Discovery of Witches the other day (I say finally as if it took me more than like a week and a half to read it lol).
Final thoughts!
The book was way, WAY too long. It could have easily been half the length, at least, without losing any of the plot points.
There was way too much time spent on character backstory infodumps to rival ye olde deviant art character background sheets from 2012. Too much time spent on the minute to minute of nearly every single day from September 21 until October 31. That sounds like an exaggeration but I swear to you it is not. Do you have any idea how many times I had to read about Diana scarfing down her sixth helping of eggs and toast? Too many.
There were enough interesting characters and ideas for the plot that I was at least able to put up with the meandering, but I’ll wholeheartedly admit that any time it dove into a characters backstory that didn’t have anything to do with the current situation, I’d skip it. You know what I missed? Literally nothing.
I’m sure plenty of people who don’t care for the book will whine and moan about Diana being the Extra Special Super Powerful witch with All the Magic and blah blah blah but I do not care. She’s the main character of a paranormal romance book OBVIOUSLY she’s gonna be special. That’s like. Kinda how most main characters go. Even if they’re not Magical special, they’re usually some kind of remarkable relative to those around them. Otherwise nothing interesting would happen, or they’d be a damsel in distress type that things just kind of happen to. But people would complain about that because you literally can’t make everyone happy.
But enough of that tangent - Diana spent most of the book being intentionally dense and frustrating. And when she did anything interesting it was almost always for the sake of Matthew, rather than having too much in the way of her own goals. She started the book with goals and ambitions and it felt like those just kind of got abandoned like
a third of the way though the book.
I don’t hate Matthew but he is very Edward-ish. The people around him seem more like able than he is, particularly Ysabeau and Marthe. I didn’t like Diana’s aunt Sarah at first, but she grew on me eventually. Bonus points that she’s played by Alex Kingston in the show, and I like her as River Song in Doctor Who, so. You know. Bias.
Anyway, point is the book drags. I’m interested enough in the characters and general plot that I am curious to see what happens next, but I don’t know that I’ll read the next book, at least not as a physical/ebook. Might listen to the audiobook ? Might just watch the show. Who knows!
Of course if I do read/listen to the book, I’ll feel obligated to post about it again. That ridiculous thread was the most fun thing about reading this book.
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insuamina · 2 years ago
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EXPIRATION
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Professor Kettleburn never failed to disappoint when assigning an outdoor activity on a nearly below-freezing winter morning. Standing outside and feeding the few present thestrals was more of a curse than a blessing. Though few students actually possessed the ability to see the creatures, lectures were given and visual pictures were shown of the animal. A thick fog coated the Dark Forest and many students had their hands cuddled with hot air blowing on them for minimal heated comfort. The idea of seeing these majestic creatures and learning their purpose and way of living was an interesting topic, but standing outside almost freezing to death completely vanished the idea from the action.
Aurelia stood next to me hindering the same discomfort from the environment. She had only spoken a few words to me since the lesson started, opposite her usual chatty behavior. Thestrals were never a topic that came with any sort of positivity or optimism, since the creatures themselves held a dark meaning that few enjoyed speaking of.
I hindered for a moment before flicking my eyes towards her shivering appearance. "You know, out of all people, I'd assume you'd be the most excited to learn about one." With a slight shake of nipping cold in my voice. Her irritated gaze towards me almost made me regret my choice of speaking in the first place. "Normally," She paused and let out a faintly heated and breathly sigh, "But this damn cold is making me go practically hypothermic! I can't even understand the bloody lesson with how bad my body is shaking!" Aurelia exhaled with more irritation than the gaze she struck me with. A small smile lit up on my face from the dramatics, but I wasn't disagreeing with her. Everyone seemed to be distressed with being forced to stand out in the frigid weather. Even "Riddle's group" of goons kept a tiny bit of space between each other to find some warmth. My eyes kept a limited glance towards them, knowing somewhere deep down if Riddle caught me staring he'd be likely to use it against me somehow. Our heated arguments between each other never failed to disappoint, and sometimes the things he said towards me never failed to make thoughts appear of how closely he looked into my life. But how could I keep a positive relationship with him? Our first interaction started the internal war between us, more importantly, our close grades rivaled each other in every class we were both put into.
One late morning when I found myself rushing to breakfast, I wasn't welcomed by my usual empty seat next to Aurelia and Edward. Instead, I was greeted with an empty seat, and two empty seatmates, along with a very fussy Slytherin table. To my knowledge of that day, and a very irritated and angry explanation from Aurelia, Avery and Lestrange had made a fowl comment on Edward's blood. Aurelia being the "non-confrontable" type had willingly decided to give both irked Slytherin boys a lesson on manners, and that brought the argument to hold.
I could practically feel my eyes roll to the back of my head from irritation as I had to strut over and end the argument myself before wands were thrown out and spells were spoken. To cut the story short, Riddle opened his mouth once to make a comment on my line, and how purebloods shouldn't get their hands dirtier than they need to be. Making a small hint towards my family's known name to cause misconduct in the wizarding world. Since then, and a little bit of unknown tension on how much we hated the others' greater knowledge, Riddle and I became rivals. Although wands have never been drawn, I have a feeling someday he'll show his lived-up-to name of being a great dueler.
Professor Kettleburn's voice boomed in my ears and drew me back to the present, also making me realize how much I was zoning out during the lesson. Knowing that would bite me back in the future, I kept my gaze on his announcement and listened more attentively.
"...And that's going to be it for today. I hope you all are prepared for the quiz next week on our previous lesson on bowtruckles and the lesson we learned today on thestrals." He boomed. Almost as if a wave of relief washed over everyone listening, people began packing up their loose papers and sprawled books for their next lesson. Aurelia did the same and tugged my wrist once I was finished as well so she could get right back to chatting my ear off with her next boy crush in the hallways. Nothing seemed better than stepping back into the castle and feeling warmth surge through my body. As other students passed us or made comfort on the sides of the hallway to chat, Aurelia began talking to me about a newfound mystery letter guy with who she became infatuated again. I listened, half-heartedly, since every situation similar to the one she was explaining now always ended the same. I could hear the hushed whispers of the notorious Slytherin boys walking behind us and began grimacing at the possible outcome of another argument starting. Aurelia seemed to pay no mind to it though and spoke very loudly of her very detailed writings with this man. The first voice I heard to speak up was Avery, which wasn't a surprise, but I didn't even need to hear the first word to know his intentions.
"Throwing yourself around are you Amaryllis?" He spoke with confidence lining his words and dripping on the ground. Aurelia stopped walking almost immediately and turned around with indignation coated on her face. I joined her, but only with a feeling of annoyance for the situation I was put in. The boys stood around as well, Tom leading the front-middle as if they served him in a way. I gave him one shared look and then flicked my eyes back to Aurelia's irritated stance.
"You'd like that wouldn't you Avery? Seeing as how my last name signs the last word of your sentence every second?" She said with a smirk, resting her hand on her hip to ensure she had won already. Avery gave a look of enjoyment at her giving him attention and a breathly laugh as well. "Of course! If I fancied men that is, you've got the same build as one don't you?" He spoke. Steam practically flew out of her ears as her face reddened and anger filled any other lasting emotion in her body. A quick reach for her robe pockets where her wand was settled and I had my hand on her wrist immediately. We locked eyes and the look I gave her directed her thoughts in a different direction. Casting magic, magic that was pierced with bad intent nonetheless, in front of a Head Boy was like kissing your freedom goodbye. They had so much leverage with Riddle kissing every teacher's sorry moke and gaining the title of Head Boy. Aurelia knew exactly what I was thinking and released the knuckle-whitening grip on her wand.
"Sorry Avery, but if you're done flirting with her, I think we best be off to Charms now," I said with no patience left for another sentence out of his mouth. Letting go of Aurelia's arm, and making one more glance towards the group standing towards us; Riddle had never let his glance falter from me the entire time we stood there. Giving him an equal look of displeasure and trailing forward to the next lesson with Aurelia at my tail.
Stepping out of the Ravenclaw common rooms to make it in time for dinner, the paintings on the wall chatted amongst each other about various things I've learned to never find interest in. Outside temperatures had seemed to drop throughout the day and the windows were painted blurry with frost from the winter evening. The Great Hall had been cheery and loud with many students trying to chat over each other in their seats. My eyes immediately landed on Edward and Aurelia chatting amongst themselves as well and I made my way towards my usual spot. The walk was peaceful until interrupted by a well-known voice calling my name from the table next to me. Riddle spoke calling my last name with fake kindness and a masked smile to grab the attention of those willing to fall to their knees for acknowledgment.
"Mind if I kept some of your time to ask you a question?" He said, as his table-mates all turned their eyes on me. Looking back at him in place and giving him a deadpanned stare, my thoughts buzzed on what possibly could have irked him this time. "Not surprised she turned this way seeing as all the girls seem too fond over you Tom," Lestrange spoke up, giving as much credit as he could to his leader. The comment itself almost, almost made me keep moving to where I desired to go, but I chose to ignore it instead, not giving Lestrange his dose of accomplishment of getting under my skin. Tom smiled gently before continuing on, "Hogsmeade is nearly around the corner, and I was really hoping you'd accompany me." A few Slytherin girls gave me a look of pure anger, and even some of my housemates sitting at the table next to us held the same displeasure at his invitation. My eyes squinted only a bit before I studied his face in mere seconds, making my decision before he had a chance to speak after "Hogsmeade."
"Sure." That was all I said, drinking in his shocked expression and if looked closely, the small pink dusting under his eyes. Tom's friends shared the same expression, save the fluster. Our eyes remained locked for a good minute before I decided this conversation was going nowhere after what I had said and kept walking toward the table. Taking my seat and beginning to dress my plate, I knew this wasn't going to be the end of his attempts to get under my skin. Listening to the conversation of confused and hectic reactions to my answer, a small smile filled my face and I found it funny how worked up a small word could make them.
Tom's eyes never left me that evening.
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americancowgirl19 · 3 years ago
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Friends
Summary: The Cullen’s took you in after your old coven was murdered but you’re not sure if going into another family is the right decision for you.
Warnings: angst, grief, fluff
Reader: Gender Neutral Reader
Pairings: Platonic Edward Cullen x Gender Neutral Reader
Word Count: 596
A/n: @redheadjustin​: Edward with a platonic male reader child vampire who Edward takes in after his coven was murder... So, it ended up being a gender neutral reader, hope you enjoy it!
Masterlist
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You were avoiding the Cullens. You weren’t trying to be mean or rude, but you couldn’t handle the domesticity anymore. It felt wrong being in a happy family’s home. You felt as if you didn’t belong. This wasn’t your family; you had no right being cheery with them.
No, your family was in whatever afterlife awaits the immortally damned. You involuntarily flinch as unwanted memories force their way to the front of your mind. Their deaths had come from a rivaling coven. Your family was no match for theirs. Had it not been for you camouflage ability you would have been slaughtered with the rest of them.
You sighed as the guilt began to eat at you once again. You hated the fact that you had hidden like a coward. Hidden and watched your family die. Everything happened so quick. One second everything was perfect and the next your creator was telling you to hide.
You were on your own for weeks before the Cullen’s found you. Specifically, Edward Cullen. It had taken him all of thirty seconds to see the kind of person you are and what you had been through. He had found you during one of the most difficult times in your life. He had taken the time to gain your trust before bringing you into the family.
You were grateful for the Cullen’s taking you in. They were a kind coven. The type that looked after each other and was compassionate for those outside of their family. It was the kind of family someone like you, someone who had lost everything more than once, was lucky to be adopted into.
Before you knew it the sun was setting, and the forest came to life under the night sky. The mated pair that lead your previous coven were a couple of astronomers. They were ancient vampires coming from a time when the stars held much more meaning than they normally do in today’s day.
When you looked into the night sky you felt some comfort. You thought back on the lessons they had taught you and it helped ease the sadness.
“You know, you don’t have to spend every night out here,” Edward said, coming up beside you. You didn’t bother looking at him. You knew he could read your thoughts therefore he knew you found comfort out here.
“I don’t think I’m ready for a new family yet,” you told him quietly. He hums quietly but doesn’t answer verbally. “I miss them so much,” Edward bumps his shoulder against yours comfortingly.
“If you want, you don’t have to think of us as your family... Not yet at least,” Edward mutters. You glance at him. “Just think of us as your friends,” He meets your gaze. “All you’re doing is crashing at you friend’s house for the time being... Until you can get back up on your feet,”
“Friends...” You whisper, turning your gaze up into the sky. Friends was an easier pill to swallow. “What if I decide to leave?” You ask him.
“There’s plenty of nomads. It’s not a rare concept in our world. You’re just used to covens,” He explains. “Almost all of us have been nomads at one point,” he tells you. “No matter what you decide we will be here for you... For whatever you need. As family or friend,” You give him a small smile.
“I’d be lost without you Cullens,” you tell him. “I can’t express how grateful I am for you taking me in,” Edward smirks and winks at you.
“It’s kind of our thing,”
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clairegregoryau · 2 years ago
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My OFMD Fics- a master list!
I'm ClaireGregory on AO3, and these are my stories so far. Click the titles to go read! The following are my long fics:
Somewhere Beyond the Sea
Modern AU Complete- 59K- rated M Vibes: Archaeology/ mystery/ thriller/ heist/ romance
Salvage diver Ed Teach is no stranger to the story of Blackbeard and the Queen Anne's Revenge- after all, the famous pirate is a distant ancestor. But then Professor Stede Bonnet, maritime archaeologist and many-times-great-grandson of the original, waltzes through the door of his shop and requests his services in finding the wreck. What are the odds?
Ed's had enough of the cutthroat world of salvage diving, and he's this close to leaving it all behind. But Bonnet's quest sparks an interest he hasn't felt in years, and he agrees to help the oddly charming man. Nothing to do with the fact that the Queen Anne might just be the last treasure trove Ed needs to escape his life. Definitely nothing to do with the way Bonnet's cheerful enthusiasm makes his heart skip a beat.
Together they'll hunt for the wreck... and then they'll reckon with what comes next. ~ Here Be Monsters (sequel to Somewhere Beyond the Sea)
Post-canon fix-it/ S2 predictions Complete- 112K- rated E Vibes: hugely epic, cinematic historical adventure/ mystery/ thriller/ romance
In 1718, Ed waited all night on the dock, but Stede never showed. And then to add insult to injury, he went and died. Drowning his grief in rum and violence, Ed finds himself pursued by monsters, ghosts, and the British Navy.
Aboard Ed's own ship, Jim Jimenez is waiting for their chance for revenge against the people who've hurt their family, Ed included.
A chance meeting with an old rival at Ocracoke Island shifts the trajectory of all of their lives, and sends them hurtling back toward past hurts. Now they'll have to work together to come through the other side of the storm, and to build a new future from the wreckage of all they have been. ~ Captive of the Pirate King Canon divergence (between Ep7-8) Complete- 19K- rated M Vibes: Meta romantic comedy, hilariously silly fluff, no angst
Stede sits down to read his nightly bedtime story to the crew of the Revenge, only to discover that Lucius has saddled him with a particularly trashy novel in which a gentleman and a pirate begin a hot and heavy romance. Ed has been on board for several weeks, and everyone is sick of the slow burn and apparently ready to shove them down the path to a real romance by whatever means they can.
As Stede reads (and tries to work out who the author of the story might be), they'll bicker their way through romance tropes, story structures, and what it means to have a happy ending. And if by the end of this night Edward Teach isn't in Stede Bonnet's bed, Lucius will probably have to eat his match-making hat...
A hilariously silly meta love letter to Our Flag Means Death and the fanfic writing and reading community.
~ Synchronicity Modern AU- Olympic diving Complete- 83K words- rated E Vibes: Unhinged sex and high sports action, real love at first sight fast burn stuff.
It’s Paris in the summer of 2024, and world-famous diving champion Ed Teach is representing New Zealand in what could be his final Olympics. After coming back from an almost career-ending injury he’s focussed everything he's got on winning gold at these Games, but when he meets Stede Bonnet—a first-time diving rival representing Barbados—at the infamous free condom handout and then discovers they're roommates, he’s suddenly got a lot more to think about. As Ed’s synchronisation with his long-term diving partner Izzy Hands begins to falter and Stede struggles with his confidence, believing in each other might be the only thing that gets them both through. In between, they're going to take this brief, fated time together to connect in every possible way they can.
Synchronicity is the first part of the Love Beyond Borders series, which also includes one shots like Ordinary Magic and Rewind, Replay, and the long fic sequel Parallel Placement (in progress). Parallel Placement Modern AU- Olympic diving (Synchronicity sequel) Complete- 111K words- rated E Vibes: Living the happily ever after, pure fluff and love, but with increasing depth to their lives as they work through past hurts together.
Ed Teach, the most successful Olympic diver in the world, expected to come home to Aotearoa from the Paris 2024 Olympics with four gold medals. He didn't anticipate bringing back one more golden thing: Stede Bonnet, his competitor-turned-lover-turned-teammate. And now Stede's by Ed's side for knee surgery, a year-long recovery, and the realisation of a childhood dream- opening his own diving school and aquatic centre. Stede's finding his own place in the world after divorcing, coming out, and becoming a central figure in the wildest Olympic diving drama in history. He'll have to face up to his past to carve a new path forward, but he'll have Ed and a whole new found family by his side throughout. Together they're facing a year of change, working on themselves in parallel, toward a shared future. Along the way they'll keep building the intense physical and emotional bond that burst into life in Paris, and shifted everything for both of them.
~ Tree Change Modern AU- Kinktober/ eco-pirates Complete- 166K words- rated E Vibes: Friends-with-benefits to lovers, and a deeply unhinged effort to include at least one prompt from every day of Kinktober.
Ecologists by day, fic writers by night, fuck buddies for one month only (unless...) Ed and Stede have been colleagues and best friends for years, working as ecologists to protect the environment. But lately it's all been more box-ticking, less actual saving the world, nothing like the dashing deeds of the eco-pirate heroes of their favourite television show, Tree Change. If only they could be more like Tāne and Rupert. Their favourite characters are also lovers, and Ed and Stede have done their fair share of writing fic about them as an escape from their harder reality. Now Kinktober is coming up, and their first writing collaboration, and Stede, only out since last year, is worried about his lack of experience. Ed’s only worried about how he can make Stede see the real feelings they so clearly have for each other, so it makes tactical sense to volunteer himself as a friends-with-benefits guide. They’ve just been handed a month on a remote property, where they’ll gradually begin to unveil a cover-up worthy of the villains on the show they love. And while they work to crack that puzzle, they'll also work their way through every possible kink, and find their way to much more than friendship...
~
Life Finds a Way Modern AU- Jurassic Park/ Jurassic World Complete- 95K words- rated M Vibes: Jurassic Park crossover with big dinosaur disaster chaos and plenty of pirate-related intrigue and action, too.
Palaeontologist Ed Teach is the foremost expert in his field, working on the same digs for decades. When billionaire Stede Bonnet appears at his site asking him to visit a new dinosaur theme park to give his endorsement, he doesn't know what to expect. But he needs the funding, so he reluctantly agrees.
The last thing he imagined he'd find at Jurassic Park was actual living dinosaurs. The next last thing was Stede himself, palaeobotanist and heir to the company that owns the park. He's been tasked with showing Ed around the lost world he helped to create, and winning him over.
Stede's charming, sure, and enthusiastic, and his passion for all the things Ed loves brings back a spark that's long been lost. But nothing is as it seems, and as a storm closes in and chaos descends on the island, Ed's about to discover that Stede has very different plans to his father. Then again, Ed's got different plans of his own.
First, they'll have to survive. Then, they'll have to escape. And then they can find a way for the past and the future to exist together.
Life
 finds a way. Ed and Stede find their way together, too, along with the whole crew. ~ Birds of a Feather Historical AU Complete- 23K- rated M Vibes: Australian outback, 1930s, silly true history, but also a yearning, sweet, fast-burn romance built on shared trauma and trust ❀
It's 1932, and a rogue horde of emus is sweeping through Western Australia's wheatbelt.
A military unit is called in to deal with the problem, led by Major Edward Teach, expert Lewis gunner.
Meanwhile, unconventional farmer Stede Bonnet has his own (secret) mission: to save as many of the birds as he can.
They should find themselves on opposite sides of this war, but Ed's bored out of his skull and Stede's fucking fascinating. Turns out, they've got more in common than not. Along with the eccentric crew of Stede's Revenge farm, they'll find a way to win--together. I've also podficced this one myself! ~ Lucky One Hundred
Modern AU- camboy meet-cute In progress- rated E Vibes: Funny accidental meet-cute that develops deep feelings. Fast burn love at first sight, gay awakening.
Stede Bonnet is having a day of it. He's suddenly getting divorced, he's questioning everything he thought he knew about his sexuality, and while exploring he's accidentally subscribed to the live webcam feed of popular camboy Blackbeard. In the process he's won a competition he didn't know he was entering, to get a little more up close and personal. Unhinged shenanigans ensue.
~
Wonders Unknown Historical AU- Jules Verne-inspired Complete- 59K- rated M Vibes: High adventure and a slow-burn romance as Ed and Stede journey across the world, and find there's magic all around.
It’s 1872, and anthropologist Stede Bonnet has spent decades trying to prove that mermaids exist. He should know; he's only here because one saved his life as a child. Only he and Nigel Badminton know the truth of that encounter, and now new evidence has emerged, the lifelong rivals are locked in a scientific race around the world to find the long-lost location. Nigel might have the full weight of the British Navy behind him, but Stede has several secret weapons of his own. His dead father’s money, which he intends to spend disgracefully. The state-of-the-art ship he’s commissioned, the Revenge. A wildly varied crew with many talents. And the guidance of world-renowned adventurer Edward Teach, who agrees to join their mysterious expedition as soon as he meets the intrepid captain. Ed’s got secrets of his own that can’t stay beneath the surface forever. But as they voyage across the Atlantic seeking hard proof of wonders unknown, they’ll come to believe in each other most of all.
~ Come in Spinner Modern AU- Eurovision Complete- 28K- rated E Vibes: A reunion fic in a modern setting, with big mutual pining vibes after infidelity and a rough separation. But also a lot of silly Eurovision fun for contrast.
Copenhagen, 2014 Australia is trying to convince the rest of the world to let them enter Europe’s greatest song contest. Australia’s not physically in Europe, but they’re there in spirit. They’re also there in person just this one time, singing as a guest. It’s a momentous occasion, one that’s inspired the country to send two of their most familiar faces for the commentary team: legendary singers Edward Teach and Stede Bonnet, who met through watching Eurovision, but haven’t seen each other since a scandal in the 90s. What could possibly go wrong, other than
 everything? Or maybe, in falling apart, it’ll all fall back together

~ Tell Me on a Sunday Modern AU- 1980s- Piña Coladas fic Complete- 26K- rated M Vibes: Big angst, with a little hope woven in too. A fic of faeeebaeee's Piña Coladas SMAU, covering Ed's point of view through six crucial weeks of 1987.
Months of pining for his best friend has led to a charged date at an arcade, and a sleepover full of the same pain. Now one thing's becoming abundantly clear to Ed Teach: if he wants to save his heart, the only real option is to say goodbye to Stede Bonnet. So why does it feel like such an impossible thing to do? Stede's like the sun, and Ed's caught in orbit. As the universe sends him one sign after another, he fights to break the gravitational pull before it's too late for both of them.
~ Full Fathom Five Canon Era- Post-S2/ speculative S3 Complete- 150K Vibes: 101 days of innkeeping life as Ed and Stede settle into their happily ever after. Things do not, of course, go as planned, but besides a few high tension moments, this one is mostly soft and sweet. Featuring Percy the goat, a crowd of Brigands, a steadily renovated inn, and the first ever tagging of the Steakberry relationship.
Edward Teach and Stede Bonnet have just watched the crew of the Revenge sail away, leaving them to their new start as innkeepers. A daily visit to their lives in the form of tiny updates over 100 days in their world and in ours, gradually charting a course through the Season 3 we all deserved ❀
~ The Broken Lines Historical AU- First World War era Complete- 82K Vibes: amnesia, haunting and reincarnation collide for a story that's heavy on angst, but also has a very cathartic happy ending.
In 1919, telegraph operator Stede Bonnet returns from the Great War with no memory and no voice, unable to recall what happened to break his mind. On his first night at home, he sees the translucent image of a man he knows is Ed in the mirror, except that this Ed comes from 1719. Just as Stede knows that he's lost his Ed, this Ed has lost his Stede, and neither of them knows why. Reaching out across these broken lines of connection over two centuries, they'll work together to remember the endings of their stories, and to find what they've lost.
~ Nothing Personal Modern AU- spy vs spy In progress- 8/15 chapters posted (resuming soon) Vibes: deeply chaotic and angsty in places as spies Archie and Ed, who are also fuck-buddies, have their lives tipped upside down by mark Stede, who decides to become a spy himself.
Undercover agent Ed Teach is on his usual mission: get the guy. Get the info. Get out. This time he’ll take down the Bonnet Corporation, easy peasy, pudding and fucking pie. But he didn’t bank on Stede Bonnet being insane enough to hand over the company’s secrets willingly, and then to track Ed back to his place to make himself the biggest complication ever. Stede’s been treading water for years, and letting himself be seduced by the spy he was warned to expect is the first time in a long time that he’s really felt alive. He wants the kind of life Ed has. He wants Ed. And he’ll stop at nothing to make that happen, even if it means torching his whole life to begin again. Archie's been Ed's partner for years, both as professionals, and as friends with benefits. It's nothing more than that. It's not. But then Stede Bonnet arrives in their lives to pull Ed away, and suddenly she's seeing everything through new eyes. Archie wants to be more than an afterthought, and sometimes you've got to play dirty to get what you want. In her experience, that's just how it goes. It's just life. It's nothing personal... until it is.
~ I also have a few dozen more stories, including some shorter multi-chapter words, collaborations and one-shots across a wide range of subjects, all on AO3.
You can find a full list here in my Fic Directory! Featuring a handy dandy visual of the different vibes for each story (currently under renovation, not all vibes listed).
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a-royal-vacation-if · 3 years ago
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A ROYAL VACATION
Genres: romance,comedy, murder solving and a little politics thrown in.
PLOT
Being the only child of the president of the united state of America has never been easy but what happens when you cause a disaster intentionally or unintentionally.
Well it's your mess and you have to fix it.
Elections are just around the corner and you went and caused a big mess. Sadly the fact that americans see you as some sort of perfect demi god doesn't even help.
Your hate or rather dislike for the british heir caused this..
You've always had this dislike for the british heir and this dislike has made you avoid them for a long time.
But what happens when you get dragged to an occasion and end up meeting the heir there..
You lose it well you actually don't but that's not how the media and your enemies see it..
Now it's up to you and the person you hate the most alongside some other people to solve this national disaster but you're not the only one with problems the heir also has a truckload of them considering the fact that his uncle the regent has refused to vacate the throne even after the heir has now come of age. Now you guys not only have to solve a national disaster but also help the prince accend tge throne and solve some murders in between.
FEATURES
Full character customization
Family background
Gender and pronouns
Full personality development
Romance one out of four characters two gender selectable
Solve a national disaster
Win the elections
Maintain your perfect image or crash and reveal your true self to the world.
Solve two murders
Help the prince ascend the throne by hook or crook or not.
Pick from tons of vices that have helped you cope with the pressure.
CHARACTERS
Arthur royal mountbatten-windsor Prince of wales(ro) (m): Your rival. Arthur is logical,intelligent And cold. Seeing so many things at court has changed him. He is cold on the inside while pretending to be sweet and friendly on the outside. He is also very charismatic and manipulative but would do anything possible to protect his brothers.
Harry moon mountbatten-windsor duke of cambridge (ro) (m): Harry is the younger brother of arthur. He is fun loving,flighty,intelligent and spontaneous. He is like a ray of sunshine everywhere he goes and literally smiles every single time. He loves freedom and is happy his brother saved him from being king by being born first but maybe there's a lot to him than it seems.
Louis alexander mystery rainbow mountbatten-windsor(m): meeting this brat changed your life like who has three middle names. Louis is the last of the three brothers but the most bratty. He is haphephobic( hates being touched) and also hates talking. He is cold,spoilt,bratty,extravagant and enjoys annoying you but maybe beneath that heart of stone is a little kid grieving his parents. A little kid that just needs the comfort his brothers can't give and maybe you'll discover why he has three middle names while you are at it.
Taylor rivera(Ro) (m/f/nb): Taylor is the head of security in the castle. They are in charge of everything security. They are cold,calculating,grumpy,shy but loyal to a fault. They are always suspicious. They would do anything to protect the prince and his brothers. Deep down that heart of stone is a loving and shy guy.
Morgan smith(Ro) (m/f): your assistant and personal bodyguard well originally your father's assistant but was transferred to you because your father would rather trust him than you. He is loving, full of smiles and way too caring. He is very efficient and always plans things ahead of time, he is also very good at well almost everything.. From cooking all the way to hacking and firearms, but maybe he has a secret he's desperately trying to protect. There's something about him whenever he sees the late king's and queen's portrait. Unravel his mystery.
Edward(m): the regent or the villain😑. Edward is the current regent of britain. He ascended to throne as regent after the king and queen died and the heir was still too young. He is in one wicked,heartless,Cunning,calculating and self centered. The princes suspect he has a hand in their parents death and that he may be secretly after them too.
CONTENT WARNING
This is rated 16+ and might eventually have 18+. There will be mentions or contents portraying or containing depression, swearing,alcohol,drug use,sexually suggestive content and sexual content and mentions of death e.t.c
Please note:
This is something i have decided to work on quite seriously but i also have a job and college entrance to tend to.
My ask box is also always open
This post might be updated anytimeâ˜ș
Thank you❀
Ros appearances description
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gotta-big-ego · 3 years ago
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May I ask what personal headcannons you have to how you see the egos? I’m just personally curious! ^^
Of course! I always love talking about egos!😄
Here's some random headcanons in no order and no theme (Btw these are from my egos au, so none of this is about canon lol)
The Ipliers
Dark: INCREDIBLY touch-starved. Which is why he never complains or tells Wilford to stop touching, hugging, guiding, etc. him randomly. It's not like he'll let any of the other egos that close to him, right?
Wilford: LOVES baking. Especially for the other egos. He keeps a book of everyone's favorite sweets and likes to surprise everyone with them.
Host: Loves tea and hot chocolate, isn't much of a coffee drinker. Once he's comfortable with someone, he is the SASSIEST man you've ever met (rivaling Google even).
Edward: Absolutely will talk your ear off about nothing that has to do with anything that you were originally talking about. Immaculate dad jokes though. And can defuse situations surprisingly easily. (Very calming voice.) COFFEE ADDICT.
Bing: This boy can look at anyone and know how they're feeling. He also has too much empathy for being an android. INCREDIBLY good at MacGyvering things from almost nothing.
Google: HATES that he feels human emotions, so he hides all the ones that don't include anger and annoyance. He also can get every Google product for free, but no one knows where he actually gets them from.
Yancy: His love language is Acts of Service. So, when he eventually makes friends with all (or most) of the egos, he is constantly buying them their favorite snack, drinks, treats, etc. and is always asking to help them with everything, if he can.
Illinois: Hates asking for help. With his job and lifestyle, he feels like he should be totally self-sufficient. He will let Yancy help him with things though, if he asks.
Captain Magnum: SO good at cooking, he makes most of the meals for the house. He loves making sure everyone around him feels safe and comfortable.
Bim Trimmer: Took him a LONG time to get over Mathias..... now he's a real maneater.
King of the Squirrels: Doesn't live in the manor with the others. Assumed to have some sort of tree fort in the woods, but no one's ever found it. Constantly stealing the houses peanut butter.
Eric Derekson: Is really good at playing the piano! He can sing too, but is way too shy to do it infront of everyone. He'll play for Yancy and sing with him though.
Derek Derekson: Does not live with the other egos.
Yandere: He is fluent in Japanese and loves the spring time. He thinks of Wilford like a father, but ABSOLUTELY cannot be left alone with him.
(There's more but this is long enough akaksjsld)
The Septics
Anti: Is a little shit to the Ipliers (especially Dark), but treats the other Septics like his family. It doesn't stop him from calling them names and teasing them though. Has a soft spot for Jamie
Jameson: MY BOY. Loves tea (any kind). He LOVES making people laugh. He was the first Septic to arrive and met Dark and Wilford decades ago. They're all close friends.
Henrik: Another coffee addict. Is the best darn doctor you've ever seen. Works with Edward alot and they respect each other very highly. Absolutely garbage at expressing emotions. Everyone finds him very hard to read. (I know he's supposed to be like a Doofenshmirtz in canon, but this is what my brain did aksdkxj)
Marvin: Loves mint tea. He adores sweets, but mainly chocolate (chocolate chip cookies are his favorite). Wilford is his favorite Iplier.
Jackie: Is the rock in the family. He's the natural leader of the house in a crisis. When not in a crisis, he's a total nerd. Mostly about TV shows. He also goes out with Silver Sheppard to go do superhero things.
Chase: He always likes to make sure everyone is okay and taking care of themselves, but he constantly forgets about his own self care. Like "Oh man, it's 5pm and I haven't eaten yet." Or he'll forget to drink water or shower or change clothes. Loves hanging with Bing because they have similar energies. He also loves making meals for the other Septics.
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apieters · 3 years ago
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Leo’s back in the ring!
I don’t know if I’ve shared Leo’s canonical life story so far, so here goes:
Leo’s Story
Leonidas “Leo” King has always loved combat sports. His dad, Edward King “of the Ring” was a professional boxer who now runs a boxing gym, which Leo now manages and which is doing well now that Leo’s expanded the scope to include MMA.
Leo always dreamed of going pro, and in high school he was already being scouted for college wrestling and was an up-and-coming name in the youth boxing world. But in his senior year, Leo’s younger sister Maddy got pregnant by her boyfriend, Kyle McLeon, who soon bolted without a trace. Leo’s father Edward, his mother Caitlyn, and Leo all agreed to help Maddy raise her cub, whom Maddy named Samson, or Sammy.
However, for Leo helping raise Sammy meant quitting sports and looking for every work opportunity he could find, even doing college only part-time, in order to stretch the family’s limited resources. However, Leo was supported by his two most loyal friends, the tiger Trevor Khan and the wolf Wesley Packard. Leo also continued to date his high-school sweetheart, the lioness Ariel Fitzroy, as she pursued her nursing degree, and eventually the two married.
As Sammy grew older and the King family started to carve out a more stable existence for themselves, Leo began to set his eyes back on fighting. His dreams had turned from boxing to mixed martial arts, and his high-school rival Baylor Black the black panther was the current title holder. With the support of his wife and family—especially his number one fan, Sammy—Leo entered the local MMA league, hoping to make it in the big leagues. Leo’s boxing skills came back and he was soon recognized as a powerful and endurant striker, but his wrestling skills were not up to snuff and he lost a lot of matches to better ground fighters. But eventually he got into the pro circuit and was on his way up the ranks to a shot at the title.
As Leo struggled to balance training, his job, and his family life, another complication arose: Maddy reconnected with Kyle McLeon on a blind date. Kyle didn’t run this time, and immediately he apologized to the family for running out on his responsibilities as a father. Maddy and Caitlyn were quick to invite him into the family circle. Leo, however, wasn’t ready to forgive him for the heartbreak he’d caused his sister; and while Edward was less hostile, he had a lot of things he wanted to see before he felt safe letting him near his daughter. Maddy, for her part, insisted that she was an adult who was entitled to make her own choices. And in the middle of all this was Sammy, who for the first time in his life was meeting his biological father and faced with the chance to have a “normal” family.
The tension within the family was a distraction for Leo. His training and bouting suffered, and he almost got eliminated from the tournament after Baylor provoked him at a weigh-in. Eventually, however, he came to a point where he realized that he was the one making things worse for the family by holding onto the past, and he reconciled with Kyle just before his fight for the title.
Which, in true sports-hero fashion, he wins by a knockout in the last round.
After that, the adventures continue for the King family, happily ever after.
Behind the Scenes
Leo started as a character I doodled in college as a stress reliever during study breaks. As I drew him, I started naturally wondering, “What’s this guy’s story?” That’s just how it worked. Scenes and ideas slowly bubbled up and eventually I stitched them together to create the rough timeline above.
Will I ever write out the full story? Will it become a comic? Illustrated vignettes? Honestly leaning toward the latter—Leo’s story isn’t a particularly grand one, not like the much more tumultuous fantasy series I’m brainstorming right now about the hereditary Lords of the Isles in the fantasy world of Heimar. I think smaller moments explored in a more intense way would suit a more realistic, if slightly fluffier, story like Leo’s.
For this picture, I traced a photo of Khabib Nurmagomedov to capture his pose and tweaked it to suit my imagination and vision.
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wherethewordsare · 4 years ago
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👀 u know that part in twilight where edward calls bella spidermonkey. That whole scene? Hehehehhe #35 👀
Let me start off by saying I had zero context for that scene from Twilight so I just kinda took the “Do you trust me?” bit and ran.... Oh I ran so far away... 
PSA: Any similarity to other stories about tunnels, secret or otherwise is strictly a coincidence. Don’t @ me.... Also this is like.... 1.9k.... OOOPS!
35. “Do you trust me?”
Traveling with Jaskier again had come with caveats. There was less music, less smiles in their time alone on the road. The easy touches of before were gone but Jaskier was there. Parts at least. They had stayed in Kaer Morhen for the winter and it had been tense, the air charged with a waiting that Geralt couldn’t seem to name. He would watch from the corners as Jaskier lit up in conversation with the other Wolves or smiled warmly at Ciri, but when their eyes met, that light vanished from his face.  
Geralt had to tell himself that it didn’t hurt him nearly as much as it did or there was going to be no getting through it. He had needed Jaskier with him for Ciri’s sake, and nothing more since Geralt wasn’t in the habit of needing people for himself.
Fuck, he needed Jaskier. 
Then they were on the path again and the silence that fell between them felt like a brand, marking him for the things he had done, the words he threw so callously filling the space where Jaskier’s melody used to be. When Ciri had still been with them, the nights in camp had been passed to the tune of soft lullabies and lute lessons. Mornings while Geralt moved to pack the last of the saddle bags, Jaskier would pick the first of the wild flowers and teach her to weave them into crowns or in with the braids they wound through Roach’s mane. But Yennefer had collected Ciri for training and it had just left the two of them alone in the camp in the foothills of the Blue Mountains.
Geralt looked to the south where a grove of trees stood and he knew where he was. He and Eskel used to stop at this same campsite when they had first set out on the Path almost every Spring. After they broke camp, Geralt turned Roach towards those trees where he knew the river hid his best kept secret. 
Jaskier followed without a word, without a strum, with barely a sound. Even Roach seemed to notice, sometimes pulling her head from Geralt’s rein to nudge Jaskier’s shoulder. It was in the way Jaskier lifted his hand to pat Roach back then hesitated that drove it home, just what Geralt had done, how deeply those wounds ran. 
He dismounted as they approached the river, the water covering the wide flat stones that made up most of its banks as the Spring melt began the trek down into the valleys. He undid his armor, placing it carefully with his pack and removed his boots. Jaskier only stood for a moment, his face pulled in confusion. 
“What are you doing, Geralt?” Almost. It was almost there, that tone Jaskier’s voice took when it shaped Geralt’s name. 
“Do you trust me?” he could have phrased it any other way. He knew the answer to that and he knew why. But still, he had to hear it, to see if it was true. Straight from the bard’s mouth.
Jaskier gave a dry bark of laughter, resting his hands on his hips for a moment before he dropped his arms and pushed a hard breath through his nose. He pulled off his lute case and shrugged out of his doublet, looking pointedly away from Geralt.
“I do, of course I do, despite my better judgement,” There were more words but Geralt saw him bite down around them, catching them behind his teeth. 
“What
 what if I told you a story?” Geralt stood, wiping his palms against his thighs anxiously. 
Jaskier’s head whipped around but he narrowed his eyes as he caught Geralt smirking. “What kind of story? A witcher story?” 
Geralt’s smile only grew as he took a step towards Jaskier. “Jaskier, honestly,” he took another step and his hand came up, reaching for Jaskier’s hip. He knew he would have to move fast. “Do you trust me?” He hadn’t meant to sound that earnest, that needing of something he could not name that wasn’t just Jaskier. A tension wound around them and it only seemed to cinch them closer together until they were chest to chest, Jaskier’s chin tucked against Geralt’s shoulder.
“Yes,” it was barely a breath against his ear but it was solid and sure and whole. 
“Hold your breath.”
And he tipped them both over into the river and dove down, holding Jaskier close as he twisted in the current. His feet found purchase and he pushed off into the direction he knew even after nearly a lifetime. They were through the slip in the rocks and Geralt angled them upward towards the surface again, still clinging to one another. 
Jaskier sputtered in his arms, teeth chattering as he yelped. “Geralt, what the fuck!” He made another noise as his voice echoed back to him. He hissed as he looked around, unable to see
They were treading water in the absolute pitch. Geralt guided Jaskier over to a ledge that was out of the water and easily hauled him up onto it as he himself climbed out of the water. He kicked around gently for the box he and Eskel had left. 
“Geralt, where are we?” Jaskier kept his voice down this time, though he moved around the flat rock, his hands searching for Geralt. Geralt leaned down and took his hand, guiding him to his feet easily. He didn’t let go as his foot finally made contact with wood. He fumbled with one hand for a candle and the matches, only letting go after squeezing Jaskier’s hand reassuringly. 
“We’re in a cave.” Through the dark he could feel Jaskier glare daggers into his general direction and he chuckled. “Shield your eyes, I’m about to strike a match.” 
The spark ran along the strike pad of the tinderbox before the head ignited in a bloom of sharp white light before settling to a single flickering flame. He held it up slightly so he could see as he grabbed one of the candles to light, passing it to Jaskier. Grabbing another candle he lit the end off of Jaskier’s, giving a small smile as he did. 
“I promised you a story,” he turned and started towards the entrance of a tunnel, reaching down to take Jaskier’s hand again and delighted in how he didn’t pull away but let himself be led. 
“You did. But then you pulled me into a river and now we’re in a cave I’m assuming under that ledge and still no story or explanation,” Jaskier huffed. It dawned on Geralt that this had been the most they had talked alone since Geralt asked Jaskier to come to Kaer Morhen with him and Ciri. He was glad that they weren’t so out of practice. 
“Impatient.”
“Impertinent.”
They walked a little further, the tunnel narrowing slightly before it opened up again into a cavern that their meager candlelight could not reach. Geralt only winced slightly when Jaskier let go his hand to look around. He leaned up against the wall, humming his eyes looking out into the dark. 
“How is it you started those stories, for Ciri? Once a very long time ago-”
“Once upon a time,” Jaskier looked over his shoulder, his face cast in shadows as he pushed back his dripping hair.
Geralt licked his lips and took a breath, nodding. “Yeah. Once upon a time, there had been two courts of fae that were bitter rivals. No one could say why, especially now, that part of the history is lost,” Geralt decided to look down at his feet. He was having a hard time focusing when Jaskier turned slightly, arching his neck to try to see the ceiling as his chemise clinging to his shoulders and chest. “But as these things go, two of them met and became lovers. They asked the river spirit to give them a place they could be together and the spirit agreed. On one condition,” Geralt pushed off from the wall and walked over to Jaskier, closing a hand around where he held the candle as Geralt blew out his own.
“What? What are you doing?” Jaskier raised an eyebrow, looking at Geralt from across the flame, his eyes shining. 
“Trust. The river spirit said that as long as the lovers trusted each other, even in the darkest of times, the darkest of places, they would always have somewhere. And so it shrugged up into the earth and made them a place.” Geralt held his breath as he watched closely. 
“Do you trust me? Trust that I never intended to-” Jaskier’s eyes were wet and his face seemed to pale. 
“I’ve always trusted you, Jaskier. I broke that trust and I don’t know how to repair it, I don’t know how to undo what I’ve done but, I know I would trust you in the darkest places.” 
“Geralt,” Jaskier took a deep breath and exhaled. When he did, the candle between them blew out.  
He was so thankful that he decided to stay that close to Jaskier as the walls and floor around them began to shine. Crystals of all sizes shed off a pale blue light that caught in the water droplets that still clung to Jaskier’s eyelashes. 
Oh. 
Oh. 
Jaskier’s eyes were wide in wonder as he turned and turned, trying to look at everything all at once, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find words. Finally he turned back, gaping at Geralt as he vaguely gestured at the cavern around them. 
“We have been travelling together for decades, Geralt and you decide to only show this to me now?” he placed his free hand on his hip and sputtered with as much indignation as he could muster still soaked through and shivering slightly. 
“Jaskier,” Geralt sighed.
“Honestly, Geralt!” Jaskier cast around again, turning in a slow circle on his heel, stumbling backward as he tipped his head back. Geralt caught him easily, righting him again. 
“Jaskier.” he spun him around by the shoulders slowly, locking their eyes. In this light, the bright blue of Jaskier’s eyes nearly glowed. “Please.” He wasn’t sure what he was even asking for, what it was he so desperately needed from Jaskier right then. Absolution? Attribution? Adulation? All he could do was hope. Hope and trust he had not looked back on their twenty odd years and had misremembered everything; hope that he hadn’t thrown it all away on that mountain. 
“I know, dear heart. I know. Of course you’re forgiven. I just need a little more time,” Jaskier confided gently, his hands coming up to cup Geralt’s face. “Meletele, I thought you’d never surprise me after this long. Telling me stories in the dark, Witcher. Honestly, I think you might be getting soft on me.” He was teasing but the soft laugh he gave was wet and breathy. 
Jaskier leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss to Geralt’s lips, his gaze fond as he pulled away. “You have always been the light in the dark, Geralt, even when you’ve been an absolute dimwit.” 
Geralt frowned. “Wait. What?” He raised an eyebrow, making Jaskier beam brighter than the stones around them. 
After one more swim through the river, they found themselves side by side, wrapped in dry blankets sitting on the sun warmed rock they had dived off of that morning, sharing a comfortable silence for the first time in what felt like too long. Geralt didn’t remark on the way Jaskier leaned into his shoulder the same way he had before or how his easy chatter and idle strumming of his lute brought peace back to Geralt’s heart. 
Time. He could give Jaskier time. He was just relieved he no longer felt like he was in the dark.
---
Tag list as stands <3: @jaskierswolf @geraskier-trashh @electricrituals @elliestormfound @artistsfuneral @thetinymm @fontegagrilledcheese @anythinggoesfandoms
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fluffybluekitten · 3 years ago
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Akkakaka hypothermia with Bruce being the one getting it because pain.
@badthingshappenbingo
Here it is, fill for hypothermia
I really like this one
Read it at https://archiveofourown.org/works/31843678/chapters/79634398
or here
The headache hits first, an all too familiar throbbing filling his head and radiating out through his body. Then cold, biting in his hands and feet. When he attempts to draw them closer, blankets above him shifting, even that small movement is enough to make him want to keep his eyes closed and drift off again to wherever he was.
But he can smell something, a scent his mind registers as both pleasant and dangerous. He opens his eyes to a thankfully dim room. Shadows flicker across the wooden ceiling, crackling and spitting above a distant hum. He remembers being very small, winter nights with his parents, watching flames dance while falling asleep in front of the fireplace, and then floating in space. He forces his eyes open again, and gathers all his strength to roll towards where the light is coming from.
Coarse fabric brushes against his bare cheek as he comes to rest on his side. But nowhere else. He’s still wearing his suit. Gloves too, he sees as his hand moves into his field of vision. Water flaked with snow drips from between his fingers, but the skin’s dry underneath. Suit still intact, though the heating has clearly failed. Moving, even thinking, is exhausting. He stares into the fire like it’s a puzzle, and it dawns on him that in this state he’s unlikely to be the one who lit it.
Adrenaline jolts through him, and it’s certainly needed. He raises his head enough to glance around the room. He hasn’t been making an effort to move silently until now, but he supposes it’s second nature. The Riddler sits just a foot away, on the same rug he’s laid out upon, blanket wrapped around his shoulders and gazing into the fire. Bruce stares. His brain raises questions he can’t process fully right now. He settles for assessing his surroundings. They’re in a room. The windows are bright. Snow. Edward looks different when he’s still. Tired, almost as much as Bruce feels.
He needs to cough. He tries to supress it, but a shiver runs through him and Edward looks over.
Cover blown, he struggles to sit up. Edward uncurls from his seated position and shifts towards him, and Bruce pushes the last of his strength into moving, and leans forward and coughs, hard. A lot.
When he’s able to look up Edward is leaning over him, cheeks red from the fire.
Bruce plants his hands on the floor, takes a deep shuddering breath and looks around for a handy piece of furniture to pull himself up on.
Edward stands. “You’re in no condition to move.” He walks past, and Bruce tenses, turning to keep him in view. But he only grabs a couple of large cushions from a fireside armchair.
“I-”Bruce attempts to get up anyway, of course, but the connection between brain and body isn’t working well enough yet. He just needs a little time, but he can’t afford that now.
Edward drops the couch cushions behind his back and disappears further into the cabin. Bruce watches after him, but the light in the room Edward walks into is too bright, almost blinding him. He blinks, he can hear that hum more clearly now, quiet voices from another room.
When Edward returns Bruce is leaning back against the cushions, gathering his strength. He still wants to sleep very badly, his head still thrums, and every moment has the blurred distance of a waking dream. He forces himself to keep his eyes open.
Edward carries two mugs, and hands him one. Their fingers brush as Bruce takes it, Edward’s are pale, and Bruce watches him sit and wrap his hands around his own mug, moving closer to the fire. Something’s gone wrong, and Edward needs his help. That explains why he’s still alive. Edward can be sensible when it comes to his own survival. But if there’s other people here
 that means
 He shivers. No, he doesn’t know what that means.
Edward is watching him, and Bruce braces for a riddle, but instead Edward sips his drink. Bruce looks at his own cup. Looks at his shaking hands struggling to hold it upright. He breathes through the next shudder and focuses on the steam rising from the mug, the smell of herb and lemon. It stands out against the musty smell of the layers upon layers of blankets covering him. He supposes he might as well drink. It seems unlikely that the Riddler would poison him now. Redundant.
The tea tastes bitter and then sweet, and it replaces the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. The liquid’s warmth flows through him. He watches Edward drink too, and sees him shiver for the first time, is he trying to suppress it too? He looks back at that white window, the inside of the cabin dim compared to it even with the fire. He remembers snow, filling his vision, blinding and covering.
“What happened?” His voice comes out only a little croaky.
“You fell. Considering the time you spent in the snow, and the time it took to drag you back here, it doesn’t take a medic to diagnose hypothermia. And you must have received a severe concussion to knock you out for the best part of an hour.”
That’s worrying. He attempts to use the sensors on his suit to check his body temperature, but all higher functions are out. Then he realises what Edward is saying. “You saved me. Why?” He glances round as he speaks, checking the cabin a second time now he can look at it without his eyes watering, and realises the voices from the next room are the radio. Edward is likely correct about the concussion.
“What else could I do? What an anti-climax for my greatest rival to die from his own clumsiness.” Edward stands up quickly. “Now your vital signs were normal last I checked, except for a ridiculously low pulse, but then I expect your baseline must be low. I suspect your GCS score will have improved at least.”
When Edward steps toward him, Bruce puts out a hand to stop him.
Edward glares at him, but sits back down. “Fine. Have it your way. I’ll test your brainpower in a different way. Riddle me this - How do you warm up in a cold room?”
Bruce’s hand has gone from firm to shaking already. He raises it to his face. “My mask, it’s still on.”
Edward’s glare intensifies. “Of course. Now Batman, my riddle.”
Bruce finds he’s already forgotten it.
“As I suspected.” Edward sounds resigned. “Well, you’re no use to me for now.” He leans back on his elbows and closes his eyes.
“You’re tired,” Bruce says. He’s not sure if it’s countering anything, but it’s a fact he can clearly identify. He’s not the only one not at his best here.
“Yes, dragging your mass around will do that. But don’t get any ideas, I’m doing far better than you.”
“What are you listening to?”
“Hmm? Talk radio. Useful to keep up with the news up here.”
“It’s quiet.”
“Do you want me to turn it up?”
“No.” He can’t think why he pointed it out. Why he’s even making conversation with the Riddler. Only that his instincts are screaming at him that this is an opportunity he can’t ignore.
“It’s useful to have some background noise. Solitude is valuable, a relief. But even short periods of absolute silence can induce auditory hallucinations. It says nothing about my sanity.”
“I’m aware. It seems a sensible precaution.”
“It is.” Edward sounds defensive, which is usual for him, and the way he’s looking at him is searching, evaluating, also usual, but there’s something else too, a caution Bruce isn’t used to seeing on his face. It is strange talking to Edward like this. Even this short conversation must be the longest they’ve had without riddles or threats. “Good to hear your mind’s at least partially intact,” Edward adds.
“I suppose I have you to thank for that.” It sounds like a question. But he doesn’t have time to find out the answer now. The fog keeping his mind in this cabin is clearing a little. He needs to get back to Gotham.
“Don’t get any ideas, I still intend to destroy you when you’re well, speaking of which, will you at least consent to me checking your temperature.” Edward holds up an ear thermometer. Bruce raises his hand once again to check that his mask is in place. “Not the type recommended for hypothermic patients, but I suppose we’ll have to make do.”
“No.” Bruce presses forward, gathering himself under him. He needs to get up, keep moving, that’s what will finally get him warm, get him back home. Once upright, he’s able to stand without swaying after only a few seconds. Edward watches from the floor. “Get up. You’re coming with me.”
“You have no chance of taking me anywhere at the moment.”
Bruce grabs Edward by the arm and tries to lift him, but Edward seems stuck to the floor, all Bruce’s pulling just putting himself off balance. Maybe he should leave him here for now and come back later. The important thing is that he gets back to Gotham now. But Edward’s grin looks about to turn into a laugh, so he puts all his strength into one final heave, and succeeds in pulling the other man to his feet. For a moment they balance there together, and then the world tilts. He’s falling forward, crashing into Edward, feeling arms around him in the moment before everything disappears.
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