#not totally happy with some of the wording here so i might do some editing

[cherryredstars]

Not sure if I’m doing this right since I’m new to tumbler :D but hi love ur writing followed you in an instant!

I was wondering if you could write something for a very low self esteem, inexperienced reader who goes to uni so is like 21 or something and is Miguel’s neighbor. They live in this building and their other neighbor is a rude lady who complains at the slightest Noise basically. she doesn’t dare bother Miguel but is always bothering the reader since reader can’t tell her to f off. Reader is just such sweet chubby lil cinnamon roll :(

Idk if I should have been less descriptive or more TvT; ?

Anyway hope you’re doing great :D don’t forget to hydrate ♥️

1K Prompts

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Age Gap, Sexual Touching (With Clothes on), Slight Fluff

Summary: He helps you, you help him.

A/N: This is perfect, don’t worry, love!!!

Word Count: 2.4K (Not Edited)

This is most definitely going to leave you a crying wreck in your bathroom later.

Your nerves were already on high alert with finally becoming independent and moving out of the college dorms, that pesky exam and assignment you procrastinated on working on, and your job has been firing and hiring people left and right. The last thing you needed was your cranky old neighbor, (it is crazy to think that you once thought she was going to be a kind old woman who would give you cookies when she was lonely), to come banging on your door with a  list of complaints and reasons why she could get you evicted. You do not know what to do, never being in this type of situation before. Honestly, you do not even know about half the things this woman is accusing you of. 

You can only stand there, hand tightly holding the door open as you try not to cry from stress. In your head, you are counting in an effort to make sure your breaths are coming out evenly. The last thing you want is to have a panic attack and have your neighbor add the threat of a mental hospital to the list. You nod along weakly to what she says, letting out whispered apologies that only seem to make her angrier. 

“You useless teenagers and your need to ruin good things, don’t think I forgot when you tr-”

“Is there a problem here?”

His voice is deep and smooth, causing the both of you to jolt. You visibly relax when you turn your head to find Miguel standing outside his apartment door. He has just gotten back from work and running errands, his lab coat draped over his arm as he holds paper bags in his arms. His hair is slightly tousled from the autumn breeze, and a few strands of his black hair are scattered with grey. His sweater hugs his arms and torso in a way that is mouthwatering, and you quickly look away when his eyes meet yours.

Miguel is the only neighbor you really know. He had helped you the first time you moved in, hearing the way you struggled to bring some things up to your apartment. He offered to help, carrying in boxes faster than you could into your apartment. When you had gotten furniture, he was happy to come over and assemble it for you. He is so kind to you, offering to help with a leaking pipe or to answer any of your questions about how to do something. You might have grown a slight crush on your neighbor, something that slightly freaked you out when you realized because of the obvious age gap the two of you have. You have not even finished college yet and he is in his mid-thirties working in a big corporate lab. 

Miguel clears his throat and you look back at him. He stares at you expectantly, totally ignoring the stuttering woman who tries to answer his question. He is only ever interested in what you have to say. You flush under his intent gaze, quickly shaking your head. You do not want to cause more problems, and you definitely do not want to have your cranky neighbor form a bigger vendetta against you. 

Miguel’s eyebrow raises, definitely catching the anxious expression on your face. He hums dismissively after a minute, eyes lazily trailing back to the older woman. His nose scrunches up slightly at the sight of her and he looks away again as the woman stops trying to defend herself. Miguel shrugs, the paper bags rustling with their contents. He turns to face you, once again ignoring the older woman. 

“Then you wouldn’t mind helping me put away my groceries, right? Can’t get my keys with my hands full,” Miguel speaks in a lazy drawl. 

You are quick to nod your head in agreement, stepping out of your doorway and closing the door. The woman steps back, a displeased look on her face as she watches you walk over to Miguel. Miguel keeps his eyes trained on you, watching everything you do. You are shy when you smile up at him. With your back turned towards the old woman, you mouth a ‘thank you’ to him. His eyes instantly snap to your lips, intently studying your exaggerated words. His eyes seem to darken for a second before he blinks and it is gone. His eyes trail back up to your eyes and he tilts his head slightly down. 

“Keys are in my pants pocket.”

You quickly nod, whispering out an ‘okay’. Your face burns as you have to get closer to him to not knock into his arms. The angle is slightly awkward, your hands slip into his pants pocket and your face burns from having your hand so close to his…thing. As you try to find his keys, Miguel looks down at you with a heated look. He watches silently for a few minutes before looking back up and over your shoulder to the older woman. His face is masked in indifference, maintaining eye contact with her until she fidgets and turns away without saying a word. 

At the same time she walks into her own apartment, you make a sound of victory as you finally retrieve his keys. You dangle them in his face with a proud smile, and he gives you an amused smirk. He steps away from his apartment door, giving you room to step in front of him and unlock his door. As you insert the key, you feel Miguel press up against your back. His warmth seeps into your spine and you are quick to bite your tongue so you do not let out a squeal.  

His breath tickles your neck and ear, warm and slightly minty. “What did I tell you about standing up for yourself, hmm cariño?”

The question rumbles with his voice and you have to hold your breath in order to not make an embarrassing sound. You turn to look at him over your shoulder and instantly regret it. He has not moved his face yet, and you are a breath away from him. If you leaned forward the slightest bit, your noses would be touching. You gulp nervously, and Miguel’s eyes trail down to your lips once again. He lets out a deep hum as you lick them nervously. 

“I- she’s not that mean to me.” You whisper out in the older woman’s defense. You cannot help the way your lashes flutter as you try to meet his eyes. 

Miguel scoffs at your defense, finally backing away from you. He shifts his hold on the bags, freeing his hand to turn the doorknob. Your hand is still there, and your breath hitches when his large hand encompasses yours. His hand moves both yours and the doorknob, making a combined effort to open the door. You are still watching him from over your shoulder, mouth slightly opened in awe. Miguel looks down at you, something playful in his eyes as he tilts his head to the side. 

“You’re blocking the doorway, cariño. The ice cream I got you is going to melt.”

Your blush returns from the pet name and you stutter out an apology as you rush inside his apartment. It’s warm, and you’re hit with the smell of him. You find the light switch and turn on the lights, flooding the whole place with a warm glow. Miguel follows you into the kitchen, placing the paper bags on the dining room table. He rummages through them, glaring at you when you try to grab one to start helping. His hands connect with something cold, and he pulls out a personal pint of ice cream. He hands it over to you and you turn it around to see the label. Your eyes instantly light up when you read the brand and flavor. Last week you had ranted to Miguel about how the grocery store did not have your favorite ice cream in stock as he was fixing a problem with your internet. The whole time he just hummed along, you did not actually think he was listening. 

He smiles softly at you as you beam up at him. He turns back to the groceries, sighing when he sees your hand reaching for the bags again. He turns to you with a bored expression. He gently removes your hands from the bag, telling you to go eat your ice cream before it melts. You grumble playfully under your breath, complaining about how you were supposed to be helping. He chuckles as he follows after you, getting a spoon out for you. 

“I thought the whole point was that I was supposed to help you put the groceries away, not eat them.” 

Your complaining is cut off by a yelp when Miguel grabs your waist. He lifts you up, putting you on top of the counter. Your eyes are wide as you look at him and his head nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You squirm slightly from his proximity. 

“You can help me by sitting prettily and keeping me company. Tell me about your day.” 

He pulls away then, returning to the dining room table and carrying a bag to the counter next to you. Your eyes are still bashful as you watch him, quietly opening your ice cream and beginning to eat it. Miguel starts to pull contents from the bag and looks over at you expectantly. Hesitantly, you begin to go through your day, easing into it the more you talk. You speak between bites of ice cream, half paying attention to Miguel as he walks around the kitchen to place things in their proper places. Occasionally, he looks over at you as you speak, his eyes trained on the way you place the spoon in your mouth and lick at the delicious treat. 

You are almost done when he puts the last thing away. He walks over to you as you continue talking absentmindedly, just finished slipping the spoon out of your mouth again. You stop talking when Miguel’s eyes drop to your mouth, his thumb coming up the swipe at your lower lip. When he pulls it away, a bit of melted ice cream is stuck to his skin. His eyes meet yours again when he brings it to his mouth, licking it away. He hums in appreciation for the taste. 

Your mouth drops open with a gasp as you watch, eyes trained on the pink muscle. You watch as his lips form a sly smile, and you blush as you look back into his eyes. But his eyes are still trained on your parted mouth, eyes dilated and hungry. He leans forward slightly, hand returning to rub at your bottom lip before he replaces it with his lips. He is not kissing you exactly, only sucking on your lip until it is swollen and red. He gives it a small nip before he pulls away, his hands falling to rub your thighs. It causes a small whimper to escape your mouth and Miguel basks in the noise. 

His hand seeps closer and closer to the area between your thighs, grabbing the carton of ice cream and moving it to the side. His hands hastily return to the area between your thighs, fingers brushing against your center. Your breath hitches and you look down to where his hands are. Your attention is snapped away when his gravelly voice meets your ears. 

“Continue with the story, querida. You don’t sound like you finished.”

You stutter over your words, the topic of conversation blanking from your mind. Miguel chuckles knowingly, his fingers continuing to brush up and down until they land on your clothed bud. He presses into it hard enough so you can feel it through the fabric of your pants and panties, gently reminding you where you left off. You nod nervously, hands snapping up to meet his shoulders as you feel wetness rushing into your panties. You stutter and choke on your words, eyes shutting as you rotate your hips sloppily into his hand. The movement is jerky, and you feel slightly embarrassed at how painfully obvious it is that no one has ever touched you like this before. But Miguel seems to like it, likes the idea that you’re untouched and he is the only person who has seen you like this. 

It gets even better when you make those soft noises, cutting yourself off and having to be reminded about what you were saying. Miguel continues his hand movements, pressing into you and rubbing and stroking. Your wetness has seeped through your panties, dampening the material of your leggings. If you were not lost in how good it feels, you would have been grossed out and uncomfortable. A weak call of his name escapes you and Miguel looks up from your cunt to look at your face. He hums in acknowledgement, watching as you try to pull his face closer to yours in a kiss. 

He swiftly avoids it, and you would have curled into yourself at the blunt rejection if you did not become distracted by his mouth suck and licking along your neck and jaw. Your mouth falls open with a moan, head leaning back to give him more room. He groans against your skin, fingers pressing tight circles to your clit. With a few hard circles, your back arches and your hold on him tightens. Gasping moans leave you and you feel the band in you snap, releasing more wetness into your panties as you finish. Miguel pulls his head away from your neck, keeping his fingers to your bud as you ride out the orgasm. Once you slump back down, he pulls his hands away. As you catch your breath, Miguel cleans up the mess on the counter. He reaches over, closing your melted ice cream and putting the spoon in the sink. 

You are still in a daze when he pushes the warm container in your hands, his own hands gentle as he lifts you off the counter. Your eyes are glossy in after-lust as he gently guides you out of his apartment and into yours. His warm hand leaves the small of your back, massaging your sides before he whispers a thank you into your ear for your help. You are only pulled completely out of your daze when you hear your door lock and close as Miguel leaves. You turn to look at the door, cheeks blazing as you clutch tightly onto your ice cream.

You are totally getting a noise complaint for that old woman tomorrow.

Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5

Extra 1

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[hazbinshusk]

It’s the holiday season, and I know most of you may be spending an extended period of time with family and friends. So, kind-hearted as I am, I thought I would take a moment to remind you that while you’re spending quality time with them...

Husk Edition

Not to think about Husk sitting next to you at the dinner table, listening along to whatever conversation is playing out around you. He’s working hard not to look so damn sullen – Charlie had managed to track down half the hotel’s actual families for the occasion, yours among them. The two of you might not be so into labels, might not be announcing any time soon what you have between you to the people sitting opposite you, but he still finds himself worrying that they won’t approve.

Don’t think about him sipping at glass of wine or whiskey as he listens to you try and justify whatever crap they’re judging you for now, his other hand making a slow, familiar journey up over your thigh.

You’re not to think about the way it starts out innocently enough – a calming reassurance against the scattered stress of the high holidays. But as the meal carries on into seconds and thirds and the both of you had had a little more than you should to drink, his hand wanders higher, his own anxieties soothed by the feel of your warm skin against his heart-shaped palm.

Don’t think about him kneading into the flesh of your thigh, the softest of purrs rumbling through his chest – barely audible over the dull roar of warring conversations. His claws digging lightly into your skin, ghosting up just under the hem of the dress you wore to make your mother happy. You can feel the soft breeze of his tail twitching back and forth by your ankle, notice the soft tilt of his lips as you glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

Don’t think of him retracting his claws to tease those long fingers delicately over your inner thigh, or the way that soft smirk twitches wider when you feel yourself part your legs instinctively to his touch. Husk will accept another drink with ease – for once not the bastard who has to serve the drinks – and you’ll have to force your voice not to catch as you tell Niffty that yes, you would like some pie. No, you’ll keep it steady even as you swallow back the whimper that threatens when Husk tugs your underwear to the side and runs a fingertip up against you.

Don’t think about how satisfied he’ll be to find you wet, how his ear will flick greedily towards you to catch that little hitch in your breath as he brushes a finger against your clit. He didn’t intend to do this… he’s not a total creep… but how can he resist when your lips part that way at his touch, your teeth grazing your bottom lip? At the scent of your growing excitement teases at his senses, overpowers the rich smells of the dinner spread across the table. All he can do is thank fuck that Niffty had dressed the table with a long, wide tablecloth that spills out over your laps, and hope you keep letting him get away with this.

Don’t think about the way Husk’s hand is going to feel between your legs; those slow, gentle touches that send those addictive little sparks swirling into the pit of your stomach. The way your hand will clench too tightly around your fork as you try to busy yourself with your food, try to appear like everything is normal even as you begin to desperately wish you could grab him by the arm and drag him off to the nearest private room so you can fuck him until you’ve forgotten all about the guests of honour.

Don’t think about Husk leaning across you as though to reach for the basket of bread rolls, just so that he can murmur in your ear how wet you are, how much he wishes he could bend you over the table right here and taste you. You’ll shudder – whether its because of his words or the way he slides a finger into you, who could tell? His nose just manages to brush against your cheek as he sits back again, and it’ll take everything you have not to turn your head to chase his lips for a kiss.

Don’t think about the way Husk will finger you slowly, steadily, pausing only when people’s eyes begin to linger on you for a moment too long. His thumb teasing against your clit and your face flushing with heat the more you try to keep yourself calm. Your breathing quickens and you’ll swear you can taste blood from where your teeth have been digging into your lip.

Don’t think about the way Husk’s own breathing will grow unsteady when you reach over to clutch at his thigh under the table, shifting your hips as subtly as you can against his hand. It’s amazing you don’t tear his pants with the way you’re gripping at his leg, and Husk’s tail curls around your calf, and he has to dampen his purr with another whiskey.

Don’t think about how badly he’ll wish he could fuck you. To kiss you even… to feel you moan against his tongue. He wants to taste you…  to suck your sweetness off his fingers or to better yet, bury his face btween your thighs and feel them squeeze around his ears as he assaults your clit with his tongue.

And whatever you do, don’t think about how goddamned pleased the bartender will look when you finally cum, your body jerking enough that you knock the table and the cutlery rattles against the wood. Just how quickly do you think you’d be able to make enough excuses so you can get the both of you away from the table and back to his room for round two?

[misguidedasgardian]

I need to

Enjoy my summer II, part II

MASTERLIST

Summary: You were having the time of your life… but nothing could be so perfect 

Pairings: Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: cursing, in some countries they are minors drinking alcohol, fluff, mentions of smut, fun timessss, smut, might miss some warnings 

Wordcount: 6,6 k

Notes: SORRY SORRY SORRY, I HAD TO SQUEEZE MY OWN BRAIN TO GET THIS DONE, AND EVEN MORE? I SAID I WAS GOING TO DO HOLLYWOOD THEMED but I couldn't it was one or the other and i htought you'd appreciate more an update! so Happy Halloween! love you all.

Edit: it was like 4 in the morning when I posted this so I wrote Hollywood instead of Halloween, so sorry for any mistakes 😂

“So you must be Cregan”, said Aemond, he walked towards you, right over you like you didn’t even exist and shook a confused Cregan’s hand, “I’m Aemond”, he said he then turn to you, “so long no see”, he muttered

“No long enough”, you grumbled, Criston and the girls didn’t even bother to say hello, looking everywhere with mixed messages of disgust, or curiosity, Cole seemed rather impressed 

It was like watching a car crash, one that you were involved in.

The collision was brutal, two groups of people had nothing in common against one another. 

Aegon and Aemond had brought close friends of theirs, wich where Floris Baratheon, Criston Cole, Tabitha Florent, and Agnes Bracken, all of them from Dragonstone University, that as is, what a great turn off for the lot of you

They looked everywhere with… curious… gazes on them, they were not impressed

“The place looks GOOD”, said Aegon, he is the only one who had seen it in its worse, and Aemond too, “good job”

“Mmmm what are you doing here?, asked Jace standing up. You felt Cregan’s eyes on you, and you looked at him. You felt the little hairs on the back of your neck standing, electrified, you felt a deep gaze in you, you guessed it was Aemond’s. 

Both of you both turned to Jace, who was discussing with an amused Aegon

“Daemon said I could have the house for the summer”

“What it sounded to me, little nephew, is that this house is the family’s summer house, and any of us can use it”

“He lent it to me”, he said again.

“Listen, nephew, this is our father's house as much as it Daemon’s, so…”, said Aemond, “I want Rhaenyra’s room”

“I have that room”, you said fiercely. He looked back at you and smirked, you couldn’t believe those were the first words you had said to him

“Very well”, he said, amused, he signalled to his friends and they all entered the house through the back door. Criston Cole had the audacity to look at you and smirk. You never liked him, he always gave you the creeps.

Jace whined pitifully when they were all out of ear-shot, you just looked back at him. But he didn’t back down, he followed them into the house to see what they were up to.

They were three boys and three girls, and you also were two couples, this was becoming like a very cheap reality show. 

“Well, this is weird”, said Sara, “was that Aemond?”, she whispered/asked you, you looked back at her and nodded

“The one”, you said, incredibly bored

“Dammit”

“He is here to spite us, clearly”, you said, “but this is certainly awful”

“Totally, we shouldn’t have taken so short time to clean this up, they could have helped!”, she said, and now you were more bitter, they were going to enjoy the benefits of what you all spend an entire week doing, and that sucked

“Well, we still have the shack”, you said gently, “our escape, I’m glad Jace took photographic evidence of how the house was left before they arrived”, you muttered.

You didn’t know what to think, the implication of having Aemond here was still falling on you slowly. Aegon though… he was always troubled. The black sheep of the family, he was a hard-partier, always getting into trouble, Alicent and Viserys having to work over-time because of his “mishaps” and “misunderstandings”. Let’s just say his career didn’t go well, and he had a nice pile of DUI’s and tickets for public disruption, breaking an entering, destruction of property, indecent exposure, indecency altogether, drinking in public spaces, and… you didn’t want to talk about the darkest one. 

Let’s just say the Targaryen family fortune had dwindled significantly after paying up hush money for Aegon’s misgivings. 

 You were more worried about him than Aemond, the latter one at least was… civil, you could talk to him, he understood reason and he hadn't been involved in an arson investigation two years back. 

“Please don’t leave”, Jacaerys begged, coming back and sitting down next to Sara, she hugged him by his side. You looked at him with pity

“We would never leave you here with them Jacey”, you said lowly

“I told Daemon but he said he couldn’t do anything, he doesn’t want to have problems with Viserys, or Alicent”

“I’m just sad we didn’t save any cleaning for those bastards”, you muttered, “if they arrived here first they wouldn’t have stayed”, you said, and the four of you laughed

“It doesn’t matter”, said Cregan, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, “we’ll do our own thing”, he said simply, “we are all day at the shack most of the day anyways, right?”, he said simply

“Right”, you all muttered, but you were not convinced. You were troubled, all by different reasons. That you felt like there was a camera pointing at you from every direction. 

You didn’t really want to think he came all this way just to upset you, but the evidence was very compelling, why else was he here? He preferred to take his vacations… elsewhere, some place more… fancy and elegant. And furthermore, in the path he was in? He already had internships lined up, he didn’t enjoyed his vacations, he barely took his weekends off

Cregan just took a long sigh, watching the scene with increasing worry on his brow, his girlfriend’s ex was here, looking for trouble? Looking to get her back? Should he be concerned? He looked at your beautiful face, perched right by his side, and he decided he shouldn’t be, not on your end.

But he was coming up against Aemond Fucking Targaryen, heir to a fucking dynasty, handsome, with an impeccable reputation (at least that the media knows of), and he seemed to be the image of perfection with each of his movements or each of his breath he took, so elegant and calculating. 

But as you laughed on his hold, about something Sara said, as he saw how comfortable you were against him, he relaxed, he knew you had chosen him, above Aemond, he knew you loved him, in that short amount of time…. So he relaxed again right beside you, as the whole group tried to calm down after that surprise.

You completely ignored the other party as you finished your small barbecue and went to sleep, You took Cregan’s hand as you gilded him upstairs, you felt Aemond’s gaze on you, not matter how much Floris was perched in his lap chatting him up.

As soon as you closed the door, you felt like you had to give some sort of explanation to Cregan, or at least some reassurance

“I don’t know what he is doing here”, you said quickly 

“I know this isn’t your fault”, he said with a soft smile

“But I don’t want to leave, this is our summer, our plans, we need to keep the shack going”

“I know”, he said, sitting on the edge of the bed, you went to him, and he hugged you tightly, placing his head on your mid body, “we’ll just ignore him”, he said simply

“The house is big, I know we’ll manage”, you said dismissively. 

That night you felt so weirded out, especially once someone you didn't see who it was opened the door to the room next to you and settled themselves there, that you couldn't do any funny business with Cregan.

But you made sure to wake up early, as you both were the first ones to come down.

You opened the fridge ready to start some eggs or something, but you found it mostly empty, in instead of breakfast food you found… booze

“Where’s all the food?”, you asked out loud, “why is the fridge filled with beer… and NOTHING else?”

“Sorry, we were hungry”, said Aegon from the couch he was slumping in, is not that he woke up early, you guessed he never went to sleep in the first place

Cregan didn’t say anything as he sat behind the kitchen bar

“Do you know where we can party around here?”

“No!”, you said back, you only heard a grunt, and Aegon standing up and leaving

You started some toasts, as Cregan started the coffee, luckily you still had some of that, Sarah came down with hair all messy, Jace quickly followed, they booth grumbled when they made the same discovery as you did on the fridge

“How good is the cooler in the shack? Because I think we could set up food there”, asked Jace

“Let’s”, you invited, at that moment, Aemond came in, he was shirtless as he had been working out outside, of course he woke up before everyone else.

“Good morning”, he greeted all of you, his eyes lingering on you. You four looked like you had been ran over in the middle of the desert

“Let’s get out of here” you offered when he left

Normally you would take turns, two of you would go to the Shack to open and the others could linger, but… this time you were all in a rush to get out of the house

You wondered when Baela and Rhena where going to come by

You took whatever you could to eat and fled the scene like criminals, in Daemon’s jeep, luckily they didn’t claim that as well. You opened the shack and it didn’t take long for customers to start coming, you were excited, word was getting spread and little kids came with their parents to rent boards and some plastic kayaks for beginners 

It was a very full day, but that meant that you were already breaking even on the small investments you had made in the shack and it was fruitful, and Cregan was writing everything down to make his report for his class in the university. You were proud of him, and your friends, and you were happy with what you were doing.

You were so enthralled in your work that it wasn't until when the sun was set and you were done putting the kayaks away that you checked for phone

You screeched, making Cregan drop his notebook and Sara to push all the wrong buttons on the old cashing machine

“WHAT?”, she asked, frightened

“OBERYN MARTELL JUST TEXTED ME!”, you said hastily

“WHAT?”, asked Sara

“HE IS ASKING ME WHAT ARE WE UP TO AND IF THE FESTIVAL IS STILL ON!”, you screamed

“AH!”, screamed Cregan, as excited as you were

“WELL ANSWER HIM! ANSWER HIM!”, cheered Sara, screaming as loud

“WHY IS EVERYONE YELLING!?”, asked Jace, running into the Shack

“OBERYN JUST TEXTED ME!”, you said loudly

“AH!”, Jace let out a girly scream, and then you all started jumping in happiness grabbing one another.

“ANSWER HIM! ANSWER HIM!”

“WAIT WAIT WAIT!”, said Cregan quickly, “is the festival still on?”

“What festival?”, asked Jace

“The Lake festival”, you said, “music, dance?”

“That thing is… has been a bit lame the last couple of years”, he said, scratching the back of his neck.

“What are we going to tell Oberyn?”, you asked.

“We need to do some reckon”, said Jace. “you and me”, he said to you, “guys cover us”, both Stark nodded as you both went outside and took the jeep

“... This is… awful”, like the shack, and Daemon’s abandoned house, it had potential, but the long esplanade where the festival was going to be held was… overgrown, the stage had… nothing to offer, and the flyers were just sad, poorly made

“So it’s on”, Jace said looking at a flyer he found on the ground, “some of this bands are actually cool, it's just… a bit sad”

“Agree”, you said, “what can we do though?”, you looked at your phone, Oberyn seems like an amazing guy outside of the screen, so you texted him back

“What are you doing?”. Asked Jace, alarmed

“Telling him the truth”, you said politely, “that the festival has potential, but we need his help”, you kept writing, you stole one of the flyers and contacted the organisers for the festival, and offered your help, Oberyn texted back hours later, expressing how he wanted to help as well, offering his presence as a presenter for the festival. 

You got home late, and you found the house reeking of weed and beer, and as expected, nothing to eat, luckily you had picked something on the way.

“Where were you?”, asked Aegon, “we were hungry!”, he laughed, you looked at him with one of your eyebrows raised

“Excuse me?”, you asked him, “you ate all our food, if anything, you could go and buy some more”

“We were working”, said Jace, trying to calm the already tense scenery. 

“Working? We are supposed to be on vacation”, mocked Aegon, you only shared looks with Cregan and Jace and went on your way inside the house.

You found a very weird scene in the kitchen, Aemond was wearing… nothing but shorts and an apron as he was cooking something, and he was cooking

But Floris was sitting in the kitchen counter, the shortest shorts on her and a crop top as she was clearly flirting heavily. Aemond offered her a taste of whatever he was cooking with the wooden spoon and you just stopped in your tracks when you heard her moan shamesly

They both stopped when they noticed you, Cregan and you frozen like deers in headlights.

You felt Aemond’s gaze on you

“We can make the pizzas on the grill”, you whispered, exiting the kitchen.

You didn't feel anything at all for Aemond being with someone else, a bit of disgust really, for the scene in general, but nothing at all. And you found yourself smiling, because it was so freeing. Cregan however, was frowning.

He had been your first great love, and as Cregan saw him, he thought about how different they were, how different Aemond was from himself, he seemed so… perfect, and he saw himself as someone… far from it.

He came to his senses when you whispered sweetly to him, to ask him to lit the fire, he snapped out of whatever he was thinking and smiled down at you

He needed to eliminate those thoughts from his mind, you wanted him, that was it.

You were positively destroyed when your tired body touched the comfortable mattress, but when Cregan got inside the bed right behind you, hugged you and nuzzled the side of your neck with his nose and his sweet lips, something quickly kindled inside your lower belly.

“Mmmm hello there”, you teased, caressing his strong arms

“A very good night to you my love”, he murmured sweetly, kissing your weak spot right under your ear making you shiver. He moved you gently and slowly, making your back stuck to the mattress as you invited him between your legs, to get comfortable on top of you

He finally kissed you and you kissed him back.

What was it about summer that got you all horny?

You kissed him hungrily as you grabbed him by the back of his head, caressing the hair there, his soft deep black locks. You moaned when you felt how hard he was underneath the soft fabric of his pajama pants 

“OH AEMOND!”, you both froze in your spots when you heard the high pitch moan coming from right across the wall, “OH YES!”

“What the fuck?”, asked Cregan, even in the dark you could see his grey eyes staring down at you in horror

“FUCK YES!”, this wasn’t real, this was a scene completely made up, because there was no possible way those moans were real.

And then the bed in the room next door started slamming against the wall, YOUR WALL

You covered your ears childishly

“Can’t listen to this”, mumbled Cregan, raising from the bed, this certainly soured your mood

You put a pillow over your head but that didn’t help.

You jumped out of bed and after a look from Cregan you decided to change the entire room setting and change the bed (very loudly) to the other side of the room, nightstands and all, and then, your sweet boyfriend put on the old TV, and a VHS of a Disney movie you watched when you were kids to drown the pornographic noises

“I’m sorry”, you mumbled, when you were back in his arms, all sexy thoughts leaving your mind

“You have nothing to be sorry for”, he whispered, kissing the top of your head

“I don’t even know why he is here, this is not his scene at all”, Cregan chuckled

“Isn’t it obvious?”, he asked, “he clearly wants to get on your nerves”

“It’s psychotic”, you offered, “is not like there's a chance we’ll get back together”, you said mindlessly, you cuddled into his chest, hiding your face in it, inhaling his scent, he smelt so good, it like everything about him was drawing you to him.

You slept cuddled onto him, finally able to have a peaceful night.

You offered to had the morning shift, and as soon as you were able, you snaked out of the house before you could see Aemond’s stupid triumphant grin

It was still super early, but you didn’t care as Cregan layed you gently on the wooden floor of the small second floor of the shack

“Shhh, clients could go in any minute”, he teased with a toothy grin, “I put the ‘open’ sign in”

“You kinky bastard”, you teased, he trapped your lips with him as he accommodated between your spread legs. Today you decided to wear a sundress, so, easy access for your boyfriend. You were both really horny and you were already wet for him, so you went straight to the main course.

“I love you”, you sighed, as he teased your entrance with his thick fingers

“And I love you”, he grunted, so needy for you, as much as you were for him

This was technically a quickie, so uncharacteristically of you and yet… It was delicious. He made sure to release your breasts front he confinements of your upper bathing suit and your dress, as you grabbed his cock and led him inside of you, making you both moan 

“Fuck it feels so good”, you moaned

“Fuck”, he cursed.

A quickie is all you could get these days, and you were thankful for them

You shared complicit looks as you put on the shirts you had made to promote the shack, and Cregan went out there to fix the kayaks and boards, so the day started better than you hoped for. 

But that didn’t last long

It was past noon, where the four of you received a very unwelcome visit

“So this is where you had been hiding at”, teased Aegon, as the six of them showed up at your shack, coming out of the cars they rented 

The girls snickered in between themselves

“What do you want?”, asked Jace, coming out to face the, group

“Iuu its gross”

“Does it even have a bathroom?”, they whispered among themselves and you just pretended you didn't hear them. Cregan became a bit upset, since this was technically his baby, his idea, his project. So he went outside, pretending he needed to check on the rentals

As they all checked the inside you felt Aemond gaze on you, but you tried to pay them no mind, as Jace and Aegon went outside

“This is just…”, Aemond didn’t finish his phrase, and you were there, outside by the rentals to hear him because it was your turn to mind the kayaks and boards, “disgusting, who's dumb enough to come up with this?”, he asked

“Stop it!”, you demanded, probably talking to him directly for the second time since he got here. 

Cregan was in the docK, watching over a woman and their kid that were at the lake

“Did you really just dump me… for this?”, he asked

“No, I dumped you because you cheated on me!”, you whispered angrily, “with my teacher! Because you have a toxic personality! Because I didn’t have anything to do in that horrible school!”

“I didn’t make you do it”, he said 

“Maybe”, you said, “but you cheated on me, I don’t know what happened to you Aemond, but, I’m thankful for it, because I met Cregan”, you said, “and he is the one, I love him”

“Oh him?”, he asked, pointing at Cregan, who was a bunch of meters away 

Cregan was watching the whole thing unfold from the corner of his eye, he couldn’t quite catch what you were saying but he could tell you were discussing something. He had half the mind to go and put an end to it, but he knew you had to fight your own battles, still, as you kept arguing with Aemond, he was able to listen to the pair of you

“I don’t know what you are doing here Aemond, alright? But it's pathetic! Leave me alone!”

“You go and trade me for the first mutt that calls you pretty, you are the one that changed! You used to be determined, have ambition, we were going to rule this country together”

“We were children with childish dreams”, you said back, “and if we are being honest, they were more yours than mine”, he chuckled darkly, “Aemond this isn’t like you, I advice you to find your pride and get the fuck out”, you told him

“Pride, sure, like Cregan is so prideful”, he mocked

“Don’t bring him into this!”, you said, “he is a good man!”

“Wannabe photographer, alternative type…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“...a pariah of his family, about to be disowned”

“What?”, you asked him

“His family shuns him”, he mocked, “his father was siring bastards…”

“Enough!”, you said, “you are sick, and anyways, what is it to you? We are done, get over it”

“I’m sorry its just pathetic what you are using to get over me”, he mocked

“You are delusional!”, you said, “Cregan is handsome! Kind and funny, he is caring and selfless… he is… strong and compassionate and he is ten times the man you are…!”,  you heard a loud crack and you both turned quickly to watch Cregan disappear in the middle of the small wooden pier

“Cregan!”, you screamed and ran towards him, he didn’t quite disappear, that was an exaggeration, but a rotten plank gave in under his weight and now he was moaning in pain, half his leg trapped in between the beams

“Are you alright?”, you asked him, getting to him, he was moaning in pain and grabbing onto his leg

You helped him, he grabbed onto you and you helped him out of the hole

“Are you alright?”, you asked him softly

“Yeah”, he said, but it was clear on his voice that he was in pain still

His cheeks were red and he seemed positively embarrassed. 

“I’m fine! I’m fine, love, really, ah!”, he whined in pain as soon as he put his foot on the ground

“Maybe you got a sprain or something”, you said softly

“Damn, I’m sorry!”, he said

“You got nothing to be sorry for”, you laughed. But he was mortified.

“We need to go to the hospital I think Cregan sprained his ankle”, you told Jace and Sara, as you managed to help Cregan back inside the shack

Aegon was rubbing his head and Jace was holding an oar, but you didn’t pay attention to it.

. . .

“I feel like an idiot”, Cregan mumbled, as you kissed his cheek and helped him back inside the shack, it was a sprain, pretty mild, but still, they had put a thick bandage around it and he had trouble walking but still. 

“You might be an eavesdropping idiot but… you are my idiot”, you teased, he chuckled, and you gave him a peck on his lips. He chuckled against your lips

“I’m sorry guys”, mumbled Jace, as you gathered again in the shack, “I should have never asked Daemon in the group chat, we should have kept it under wraps

“Your family is pretty tight, they would have never not known about it”, you said softly, “what matters is that the shack is thriving and we are together, right?”, Cregan grabbed you and made you sit on his laps, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. 

But still, the fact that you had conquered the house and then you were conquered was infuriating

“I don’t want to get back to the house”, you just snapped, as everything came crashing back to you, you liked being with Jace, Sara and Cregan, you did not want to get back to that place where Aemond was waiting for you to pull whatever he had planned, thay psycho, and you didn’t want to get back to Aegon and those women and freaking Criston Cole… they had poisoned your safe haven, the home you found. 

“I don’t want to get back to the house, you don’t either, let’s do a movie night”, suggested Jace, you shared looks with Cregan

“A movie night?”, you asked

“Yeah, I got a proyector, let’s project the movie on the side of the shack”

“That sounds amazing!”, said Sara

You and Sara went to get groceries as the boys settled everything up in the shack

And then, when you returned with everybody’s favourite snacks, they had everything set up so you could cuddle in the ground and watch the movie

It was a classic, something you all could enjoy.

And only when you realised you couldn’t sleep in the shack, you returned to the house.

The whole group wasn’t there, and you guessed they were partying somewhere else, because their things were still here.

You finally got to put your head on the pillow, right next to Cregan, you shared complacent looks as tonight there was nobody to disturb you

“I love you”, you said, he smiled 

“I love you too”, he whispered, like it was a secret only both of you shared. 

“I was so scared”, you confessed, “to fall over someone so quickly after everything that happened, I was so afraid, and yet, now I realised I’m the luckiest”, he caressed your cheek

Was it too soon to think it was forever? Because that is what it looks like

“I’m the luckiest”, he whispered, you kissed him gently, and then you cuddled against this chest, “I made a fool of myself today”, he moaned, you only giggled

“No you didn’t”, you said, caressing his chest, “you were fine”

“Right in front of him”, he lamented

“You have nothing to prove to him, or to anybody”, you said then.

“I just wish they would leave”, he groaned. All the doubts he could have had regarding you and Aemond dissipated completely, he loved and trusted you.

“I got a feeling, that soon, everything will balance out somehow”, you said mindlessly

“What do you mean?”, he asked

The very next morning you all were shaken awake by a loud noise

“Alright!”, you heard someone yell. You all jumped out of your rooms, Cregan more like limping, “who the hell had taken over our house?”, you looked down through the railing of the second floor and you saw the twins Baela and Rhaena with smug looks on her faces and her bags

“YOU ARE HERE!”, Jace screamed, “aunties!”

“Fuck you Jace I’m your freaking cousin!”, Baela cursed, and you laughed, because the twin’s parent Daemon was Rhaenyra’s uncle so that made them Rhaenyra’s cousins, so Jace’s aunts, it was pretty funny.

“What’s all that noise?”, asked Aegon coming out of his room

“We are the cavalry that’s what’s up!”, mocked Rhaena

Now you were even! had a fighting chance against the intruders

You managed to scrape up some breakfast for the lot of you, meaning the six of you because The rest had gone back to bed, turns out they were partying.

“So Ben is coming next week”, said Baela, “I already talked to him, and we will all get ready for the festival”

“You know about that?”, asked Jace

“Apparently it's been all over socials that Oberyn Martell is coming, so everybody got hyped and all of Harrenhal is coming, you don’t know about that?”

“We are the ones who invited him”, you said shortly, and both twins just stared at you

“It’s been kind of a long summer!”, said Cregan with a wide smile

“We are like one month in!”, they said

“Well we met him in the Watergardens”, you told them simply

“We have some other news”, Rhaena said in a whisper

“Rhaena you’re such a gossip”, mumbled Baela, but you could tell she was dying to tell you.

“Why know why they are here”, she continued, and you all leaned in over the table to listen to her, “the thing about Aemond came out, about the teacher he fucked, sorry”, she said looking at you

“It’s fine”, you said quickly

“They send him away, and Aegon is a liability every time he posts on social media so Alicent send them both here”, she said wiggling her eyebrows

So that’s it, he was hiding from all the blowout from the thing with Alys, something you didn't know anything about

Nothing mayor had happened, but you were on the brink of an election, so anything could turn the scales to one side or the other… So that is what they were doing

Keeping a low profile

The arrival of the twins proved to be a breath of fresh air, because now they were the “hosts”, not Jace, and they ruled the house with an Iron fist, Aegon discovered that mocking you was a poor way to spend the summer, and lost interest on the palace quite quickly, as it was not the rhythm he was used to, meaning ‘it was boring as fuck’, you heard him say, and started to try to convince his friends to leave.

Aemond seemed determined though, to stay, so, so was Criston.

Floris, since that awful night, clung to Aemond like gum on shoe, and wouldn’t leave his side. What amazed you is that he seemed to reciprocate.

And what wasn’t to love about her? Yes she might be a bit mean, but she was beautiful, rich, and from a good family from the beginnings of Westeros itself, so, she was everything Aemond appreciated. And you were happy, and relieved, for him, as he had let you be after your fight outside of the Shack.

So without Aemond looming over you, you got to enjoy more, get a rhythm going like before they arrived.

And again, he was somewhat defeated. You didn’t know what he wanted to accomplish by coming here, but you could see his face of disappointment everywhere, but that made sense after you learned what you did from Rhaena and Baela

You not being the main reason they were here did make you feel better.

Still, they stayed two more weeks.

But not like you spend too much time in the house anyways,

You felt like you had vanquished them, as it seemed like they gave up, and kept mostly to themselves.

And then, one day, from anywhere, they were called back to King’s Landing

You knew why, but you wanted to stay away from it.

Elections were coming and the main branch of the Targaryen family was pulling everyone in. You were up too, to Harrenhal and Rhaenyra, in only a couple of weeks

The day they were gone, it felt like you could finally breathe, like a dark storm cloud had lifted and all was left was a beautiful sunny day.

But you had no time to enjoy the house to yourselves

Because now the festival was coming

You had talked to the organisers and promised to help, so you divide your time by the Shack, the festival, and also Cregan.

Cregan defended the Shack with teeth and nail, preferring to be there than helping out at the festival, so you, Jace and Cregan took turns to always be two and two. The shack was booming, more people coming each day, and the locals seemed so happy to see you there, always giving words of encouragement, and how happy they were to see their small town come back to life a bit more.

It had been a crowded summer so far, but it was so fulfilling, and so fun.

Oberyn was arriving tomorrow for the festival, but tonight you manage to finish early at the Shack and go back home to throw a small barbeque, only the six of you. And Ben, who just got here. 

You had never ‘ran a house’ before, and you were enjoying the domesticity so much, working by day, arriving at home with your friends and your loving boyfriend. 

“I miss Aly so much”, Ben lamented, and you all booed him as you drank some beer and ate ribs, 

“Oh come on! You just saw her!”, said Cregan

“She is starting to do clinics and all, she’s got a busy summer”, he said, “she is in Raventree hall”, he said

“She is not far from here”, you offered

“I know I was with her since the summer started but her parents kicked me out eventually”, you laughed at him and he chuckled

“Well, we’ll distract you!”, offered Baela, and you giggled against Cregan.

“We got a huge event coming up”, you offered, “Oberyn himself is coming tomorrow”

The big event for the entire season

The Isle of Faces Festival.

The day started early despite you having a late night, but to no matter, you had plenty to do, with your ebay friends.

Cregan and Sara went to receive Oberyn and Ellaria at the Heliport and took him to the fanciest hotel they could find, and you and Cregan went to the Shack for half a day, and then you went home to prepare

The festival had its origins from like two thousand BD, celebrating the friendship between the children of the forest and the first men, and through all these years, they had kept some of the most pagans traditions, one of them was the colourful attires and… masks…

Masks made of wood symbolising the weirwood trees, and it was so beautiful.

He didn’t show it, but you could tell that Cregan was nervous to meet Oberyn, even though he was still limping, he did his best to put on a brave face, and you loved him even more for it.

He was always trying to put up a good front, since Aemond showed up and even though he was gone now, you could tell Cregan wanted to be brave.

So you all got dressed up, and masked, and you went to the huge esplanade where the festival was being held.

There dozens of small tents, all the locals had come to offer their small business, selling their products, food, games, attractions, everything they had to offer. At the end of this huge open ‘hallway’ was the stage where the bands were going to present.

It was like a carnival on steroids, everyone was wearing colourful costumes, and masks, people were dancing, or disguised as mythical creatures.

Oberyn was in his element, on the stage representing and throwing jokes, he was dressed as the symbol of Dorne, a shining sun, with all golden robes and he looked like he was having the time of his life.

Cregan had put on a cape -even though it was so hot you could drop outside-, with a wolf mask, Jacaerys had dressed all in black and red, with scales and a demonic looking mask, even though you knew it was a dragon.

Sara had dressed all in shimmering white. Symbolising the North’s snow, and you, well, you didn’t know what to dress as, so Cregan suggested that you dressed all in silver, with a beautiful round headdress, you were the moon. The twins both decided to dress like creatures of the sea, with glitter on scaly shapes on their faces, beautiful braids with seashells, and flowy skirts. 

His moon

It was sweet. 

You went backstage before the concerts started, and it was kind of fun to see Cregan and Jace completely fanboying over Oberyn and Ellaria

“So these are the lucky fellas”, he said, all entertained

“The girls were right, they were handsome”, she teased, making Jace and Cregan blush so furiously, it seemed like they were going to pass out.

You had the time of your life, it was the best night of the entire summer, especially once the sun hid and the temperatures cooled. Right now you were dancing in front of the stage, the bands rocking the whole place. 

Cregan was right behind you, until he wasn’t 

You heard a whine and you looked back to find his face scrunched in pain

“Cregan?”, you asked above the noise

“I’m fine”, he whined, but you could tell he couldn’t hold it any longer.

“Is it your foot?”, you asked him, and for the first time ever, you saw him holding back tears of pain, “Cregan1”

“It's fine”, he said

“No it's not!”

“I can go, you guys stay”, he said

“No way in hell!”, you said

“You are having the best night of your life, you said it”, he said, “you can stay I'll go back to the house”

“You are not, I’m coming back with you”, you assured him, he seemed conflicted, but finally relented.

“Cregan I can't believe you didn’t say anything sooner!”, you said, he tried to rely on your shoulders to walk, but you could tell he was holding back.

“I didn't want to ruin everyone’s night like i just did yours”, he admitted

“Cregan never say anything like that ever again, you hear me?”, you chided, he barely nodded. He had nothing to drink because he was already on mild painkillers, and apparently they had worn off already.

You led him to the car and then you drove back to the house, Jace and Sara could find an uber

“You are going to miss the afterparty Oberyn invited us to”, Cregan warned

“You are injured and in pain”, you said back, “I don’t care about anything else”, you said softly.

Because Crega had become more important to you than any party, any famous people, (like the friends Oberyn had invited to join him), that scared you a bit, but you trusted Cregan completely. 

His ankle was purple when you got to the house. You gave him some painkillers, some heated pads to help and you cuddled him on the couch

“I’m going to marry you one day”, he whispered as he looked at you with a loopy smile on his face

“Cregan, those are the pills talking”, you teased

“No they aren’t”, he said mindlessly, “I think you are the love of my life”, you only smiled and kissed him.

And a week after the festival.

It was time to go.

You had spent six amazing weeks on the Island, and now it was time for the last few weeks, helping Jacaerys’ mom Rhaenrya in her presidential run, as you had promised. 

You packed the last of your bags and looked sadly at the cosy room that had hosted you for all those weeks. The fact that you had given up the keys to the shack the day before didn’t boost your spirits, except maybe the complete face of shock of the owner, who now had a great business running.

You actually shed a few tears as you board the ferry. Cregan hugged you as you watched the island get smaller and smaller for every nautical knot. 

“We will return”, he assured you

“I had such a great time”, you murmured 

“Me too love, me too”, he kissed the top of your head

You will always going to remember the Love Shack

Sorry if it was a bit anti-climatic

ANYWAYS HAPPY HALLOWEEN

taglist!

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[scatteredpiecesofme]

Favourite background character - or, justice for Alexander!

Since I was a bit disappointed by how Alexander's character was treated in S3, I decided to celebrate him as my favourite background character for the YRFavesFest2024. He deserves some love!!

"... anyone here who has been bullied, hit, beaten up?"

I'll start with this scene from 03.02, which I think is filmed and edited very cleverly.

At first the focus is on Vincent who's giving his little speech, while Alex is in the background and a bit blurred, but we can still detect him making big side eyes at Vincent. And how could he not? He, of all people, knows very well that bullying is a real thing at Hillerska.

At this point, before Vincent even finishes his sentence, the camera cuts on Alex - who now is on focus and at the centre of the frame - right on the words 'hit, beaten up':

I'm not reading this as a suggestion that Alex has ever been physically beaten up, but his posture and his eyes towards the floor perfectly convey the image of someone who feels beaten, if only emotionally.

And then Henry chimes in:

Henry is naively incredulous, but his comment must sound dismissive to Alex, who raises his eloquent eyes up again: sure as hell, he does not think that the story is overblown at all. No matter if the tradition of the porn/homophobic initiations was stopped and present day students don't go through it anymore, Alex understands that it's something totally believable.

It's just a quick sequence and Alex is clearly not meant to be the main focus of this scene as a whole, but his presence in the background and Xiao excellent ability to speak without words add further layers to the scene itself and make it even more meaningful.

Yay, some happiness!

Thank god, even though the creators didn't give Alex any line in S3, they at least let him have some happy moments. It's a joy to see him so cheerful and carefree during the camping trip! Look at him!

The trio

My last point, which is also my favourite among the glimpses we get of Alex in S3, is about the trio Alex-Henry-Walter. Throughout the season, in fact, Alexander, is often spotted in close proximity to either Henry or Walter or both:

In particular, I absolutely adore this shot:

The lighting and the colours are gorgeous, but most of all I love the glance Henry and Alex exchange while they're trying hard not to burst into laughters (it's the moment when August is gulping down a big glass of wine). I like that despite being on duty, once again at the service of the third years, Alex Henry and Walter seem to have fun, relaxed and giggly.

The icing on the cake, for me, is of course the white party! Alexander looks fabulous with that sparkly purple eyeshadow (or whatever it is) and the trio is all ready to enjoy the craziest night.

Alas, the show doesn't let us know anything about the nature of their relationship. Or maybe it's a good thing, as it allows the audience the most freedom of interpretation. Is it camaraderie among fellow students? Is it authentic and sincere friendship? Something more?? What do we think? As in the fandom there's already an established little group of passionate Walty shippers (looking at you, friend, hehe), I wonder if anyone ships them as a throuple? Queerplatonic, maybe? Come on rarepair enjoyers, don't be shy!

Personally, I read them as just friends (both Walty and Walty+Alex), and I like to imagine the three of them cherishing this friendship formed during their school years, cultivating it into their adult life and living many future adventures as a trio, but any headcanon is valid and welcome. No matter what configuration, shape or form it might take, I just hope for Alexander to find someone who makes him feel respected and loved. We all deserve that, in fiction and in real life.

I'm closing this post with this beautiful, intense and emotional close-up from episode six:

Big thanks to @youngroyals-events for planning and hosting this event!

[theliteraryarchitect]

Hi! I wanted to say, I read that you are a professional editor, and think it's amazing! You also give very logical and well explained advice. I was wondering; would you say being an editor is a job you can support yourself with? I actually aspire to become one someday, but I'm not exactly sure if it's a good plan.

Thank you for your time, and I hope you have a good day/night

Hey there. Great question. It's totally possible to support yourself as an editor. I've done it, and so have other editors I know. However there are a few important things to consider before choosing editing as a career path.

Your chances of being a self-employed freelancer are extremely high. The number of in-house editing jobs in publishing are low and getting lower. While being self employed can give you a certain amount of flexibility, it also comes along with a lot of hustle and hassle, namely fluctuating income, a stupid amount of confusing tax paperwork, and the need to constantly promote yourself to clients in order to maintain steady work.

You probably won't make as much money as you'd think. Editing is one of the many skilled jobs that suffers from market saturation, which has sadly driven down the price the average client is willing to pay for editing services. I can't tell you the number of overqualified editors I know charging barely more than minimum wage for their work. Personally I've stuck to my guns about charging what I'm worth, but I've sometimes suffered by not having as much work as my colleagues who charge less.

Robots have already chipped away at the future of editing as a human occupation, and will continue to do so at exponential speed in the years ahead. They will never obliterate the job completely, as there will always be humans who prefer to work with humans instead of machines. But the outlook will become ever bleaker as more humans compete for fewer gigs, which in turn will drive down prices even further.

If you are also a writer, editing may adversely affect your writing. I don't mean that you'll become a worse writer, quite the opposite. My editing work has brought new depths to my writing, and I'm grateful for all I've learned by working with my clients. However, editing takes time, uses creative energy, and requires staring at a screen (or paper), and personally the more I edit, the less time/creativity/screen-staring capabilities I have left for my own writing.

If you mention you're an editor, someone will troll your post for a typo, grammatical error, or misused word, and then triumphantly point it out to you in the comments. This is mostly a joke. But it does happen every single time.

I hope this hasn't been too discouraging. If you feel a true passion for editing and really enjoy the work, none of the above should dissuade you. However, if you think you might be happy in any number of occupations, I'd honestly advise you to explore other options. Choosing a career path at this point in history is a gamble no matter what, but the outlook for editors is especially grim.

If you'd like to work with writers and aren't attached to being an editor, there are a few jobs (still freelance) that I believe will survive the coming robot apocalypse. Do a little Google research about "book coaches," "writing coaches," or "book doulas." These are people who act primarily as emotional supporters and logistical helpers for writers who are trying to get their book published or self published. Some of them do actual editing, but many do not, and due to the therapeutic nature of their work I believe they will flourish longer than editors in the coming robot apocalypse.

If you do explore editing as a path, the further away you can lean from spelling and grammar (e.g. proofreader or copyeditor), the longer your skills will be useful when competing with robots. AI still struggles to offer the same kind of nuanced, story-level feedback that a human can give. (Speaking from experience here--I'm a developmental editor and have yet to see a dent in my workload because of robots.) They'll catch up eventually, but it could be a while, and as long as there are human readers, there will always be humans who are willing to pay for a human perspective on their writing. Human spell checkers maybe not so much.

Hope this helps!

[vodika-vibes]

Every Time We Touch

Summary: Your relationship with Crosshair and Tech, before Order 66 and after.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x Jedi F!Reader x TBB Tech

Word Count: 4987

Warnings: Smut. Oral (male and female receiving). Some Dom/Sub dymanics.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: This has been a labor of love that took me, in total, almost 16 hours to write. The first part is smut, the second part was going to be smut but I decided it didn't make sense with everything that happened. It has not been edited aside from a very rough spellcheck. Happy reading~

It’s easy, losing yourself in the ebbs and flows of the force. Especially here, on a planet largely untouched by the war.

The Marauder landed here three days ago, with the plan being that you’d move on as soon as you got a new set of orders. Only, those orders still haven’t come.

And, as much as Hunter might hate it, you decided that you needed to get off the ship, even for a little while. It’s not as if they’re going to leave without you, after all.

So here you are, sitting next to a stunning little pond with a waterfall roaring in your ears, meditating. Or, well, you’re supposed to be meditating, but really, you’re considering whether or not you’d like to go swimming.

You absently tap your fingers against your knee, before coming to a decision. It’s not like anyone is going to bother you, not at this time of night. So you unfold from your sitting position and quickly tug your clothes off.

You set them neatly on a rock, with your lightsaber and comm perched on top of the clothes, and step into the cool water. You wade out until you’re waist deep and then you dive into the water.

This is exactly what you needed, the water feels amazing against your skin, and with the moon high in the sky, it almost feels like something from a fairy tale. You know, if fairy tales generally involved skinny dipping.

You’re pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a low chuckle from the shore, and you smile when you see a familiar figure standing next to the rock holding all of your clothes. 

Crosshair lightly plucks your panties from the pile on the rock and dangles them from one long finger, before his sharp gaze finds you in the water. “Funny,” He practically purrs, “I didn’t know that there were mermaids on this planet.”

You laugh softly and swim closer to shore, until you’re able to stand on your toes, “What brings you out here, Cross?”

He absently folds your clothes and stacks them a little neater than you did, “You, of course. You weren’t in bed.”

“I needed a moment off the ship. Hunter’s practically radiating anxiety.” You answer with a shrug.

“Well, I can just about guarantee that if he knew you were swimming, naked, in a lake he’d probably have a heart attack on the spot.”

“Um…well…he doesn’t need to know?” You offer sheepishly.

“Oh definitely.” Crosshair agrees, as he peels his shirt off and sets it on the rock next to yours, “Especially since I’m joining you.”

You laugh, “Are you?”

“What? You think you’re the only one who needs a break?” Crosshair finishes stripping off his blacks, and sets them on the rock. He pauses and then sighs and grabs his comm, shooting a quick message.

You tilt your head in question.

“You’ll get pouty if Tech doesn’t join us.” He explains as he steps into the water and walks out to you. The moment he’s close enough, he pulls you into his arms, and bumps his forehead against yours.

“I do not pout,” You reply as you slide your arms around his neck.

Crosshair urges you to hook your legs around his waist, which, really, you would do anyway. “You pout.” He teases, “It’s adorable.”

You press yourself against him, “Yeah…well…cite your sources.” 

“Do I look like Tech to you?” He asks with a grin, “I’m not citing anything. You’ll just have to take me at my word.”

You release a huff of laughter, and bump your nose against his, “Thank you for inviting Tech, Crosshair. It means a lot to me.”

Something soft slides across his face, and his hand comes up to brush against your cheek, “Well, you said so yourself, the only way this works for us is if we’re in it together.”

“I can’t believe you were listening to me when I said that.” You admit.

“I have a very vested interest in making sure that you stay happy, kitten.” He replies, “And if you’re happy with me and Tech, then who am I to argue.”

“And you, Cross? Are you happy?”

“Happier than I ever thought possible,” He confirms as he tilts his head to catch your lips with his own. 

You lean into the kiss, your hands trailing up to slide through his hair, a soft moan slips from your lips, swallowed by Crosshair, as he nips your lower lip and then trails his tongue across the sore spot to soothe away the pain. 

Heavy footsteps on the shore forces him to break the kiss, pulling a whine from you as you try to follow him. Crosshair chuckles and squeezes your hip, before he glances towards the shore, “D’you have to be so loud, Tech?” He asks.

Tech peers at the pair of you, “Yes. I did not want Crosshair to shoot me.”

“As if I would.” Crosshair mutters with a roll of his eyes.

You giggle and nuzzle your nose against his neck, “Will you be joining us, Tech?”

He glances at you, and then the water, and then back at you. “I have a better idea, you both should come to shore.” Tech quickly starts tugging his own blacks off, tossing them carelessly to the side.

Crosshair exhales sharply, and you giggle. “Let it be, Cross.”

“Annoying, everything else is folded-”

You giggle again and pull him into a deep kiss, your tongue sliding across his lips and then past his lips. You map out his mouth, as though it’s the first time, and he releases a quiet groan, his strong hand tightly gripping your ass to grind you against his half hard cock.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” He breathes against your lips. “Believe it or not, I didn’t actually come out here to fuck you.”

You grin against his lips, “Oh? What a pity. Maybe Tech will be interested-” You squeak as he pinches your ass.

“Well, my plans have clearly changed, imp.” He carries you towards the shore, and only sets you on your feet once the both of you are clear of the water. 

Tech’s eyes drag down your bare body, lingering on your breasts for a moment, before he steps into your space to catch your lips in a deep kiss.

Tech kisses you like he’s trying to learn everything about you. Like kissing you will answer any and all of the questions he has about you. 

Crosshair, on the other hand, kisses you like he’s trying to take everything that makes you you and replace it with himself.

You love both kisses, almost as much as you love both men. 

When Tech breaks the kiss, you’re a little breathless, “I’m guessing you have a plan?” You ask.

“I always do,” Tech replies with a small smile, he trails his finger down your cheek, and then across your lips, “You have such a clever mouth, cyare. I want your lips wrapped around my cock.”

Your face heats, and you press your hands against your cheeks, “You can’t just say it like that, Tech.”

Crosshair coos in your ear, “Embarrassed, kitten?” He turns his gaze to his brother, “I assume you have no issues with me fucking her while you’re fucking her face.”

“I am hardly going to be fucking her face,” Tech counters blandly, and then he pauses, “Well, I did not have the intention to.”

“Not an answer, vod.”

“Oh, yes. Do what you like.”

“Well, that was never in question.” Crosshair slides his hands down your sides, “On your knees, kitten.”

You shiver under his touch, especially when his hand slides from your side to dip between your thighs. His finger just barely brushing over your clit.

You release a breathy little moan and Crosshair chuckles and kisses your jaw, before pulling his hand away from you and licking his fingers clean.

“Actually, I had a better idea than her on her knees,” Tech says thoughtfully, and once he's sure he has all of the attention, he smiles. “You on your back, Crosshair, with our cyare riding you.”

Crosshair's fingers pause on your hip, and he glances at you, “You mean I get to feel her all around me and watch her tits?” He asks with a sly smile.

You release a strangled noise and thump your forehead to Tech’s shoulder, “Why?” You ask as your face burns.

Even after all this time, you still get flustered and embarrassed when your boys talk like that.

Which is exactly why they do it, and all of you know it.

“Because you are just too cute when you are ten kinds of flustered, cyare.” Tech kisses the top of your head, and then glances at his brother, “I would suggest spreading her robe across the ground.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Crosshair drops one last kiss to your shoulder, “That was the plan.” He walks over to the piles of clothes, kicks Tech’s stuff out of the way with an annoyed grumble, and then carefully pulls your robe from the bottom of your stack of clothes.

You watch as Crosshair spreads your robes out on the sand, and then lays down on his back. And then you’re distracted as Tech takes one of your hands and wraps it loosely around his half-hard cock.

“I know my brother is pretty, cyare,” Tech teases as he trails light kisses across your cheek, “But I would like your attention too.”

You give him a few light strokes, feeling him harden under your touch, and you’re not surprised when he shoots you a slightly frustrated look. “Cyar’ika, why are you being so gentle?”

A small, almost angelic, smile spreads across your lips, “I have no idea what you mean.”

He peers at you for a moment, and then releases a soft sigh, “You have decided to be a brat tonight then?”

“I have never done anything wrong in my life-”

His hand lands, firmly, on your ass and your sentence breaks off with a startled yelp. 

“If I did not already have plans, cyar’ika, I would make this punishment much more enjoyable.” You shiver at his tone of voice, and he presses a light kiss to your forehead, as he massages the sore spot on your ass, “Perhaps later tonight.”

You watch as his gaze flickers past you, and then he locks his gaze with yours again. His rough, calloused hands settle on your hips and he lifts you just enough that he’s able to move you to stand next to where Crosshair is laying.

“How would you like her positioned, vod?” Tech asks lightly, as though he’s commenting on the weather and not manhandling your naked body.

Crosshair’s gaze drags across your body for a moment, and then he smirks, “I was going to say that I want to stuff her full with my cock, but I changed my mind.”

“Oh?”

“I want her to sit on my face.”

“Oh, but-” Two pairs of eyes lock on your face, and you duck your head, “I don’t want to hurt you-”

Crosshair laughs, “I don’t know if you remember this, kitten. But I’m a decently strong guy. You can only hurt me if you try.” With Tech’s help, the two men lower you so that you’re hovering just over his face.

“Are you sure-” You yelp when Crosshair roughly pulls you down so that your pussy is settled over his mouth. His tongue immediately darts out to drag along your folds, and your yelp turns into a moan of pleasure.

“There we go,” Tech murmurs, “No need for such anxiety, cyare.” He moves so that he’s standing next to you and he rests his hand on your head, smoothing your hair for a moment, “Open up for me, darling.”

You part your lips for him, obediently, and he presses the head of his cock against your lips.

“You remember what to do if you need a break?” Tech asks, and his gaze softens when you tap his thigh twice in quick succession, “Good girl.”

And then he pushes the head of his cock past your lips, and lets you do whatever you want.

The dual sensations of Crosshair alternating between flicking your clit with his tongue, shoving his tongue as deep inside you as he can, and sucking on your clit, combined with the feel of Tech, heavy in your mouth, and the taste of his precum on your tongue, is almost too much.

Almost.

But you’ve been in a relationship with them for a while now, and you’re not a blushing virgin anymore. You’ve had a lot of practice using your mouth on both of them, and you have a few tricks to push them over the edge quickly.

For Tech, all you have to do is trail your fingers over his balls while hollowing your cheeks and sucking hard.

Which is exactly what you do, pulling a hoarse groan from his lips, “Kriff, should have tied you up.” He gasps as his hand fists in your hair, and he starts lightly directing you how to move by moving your head for you.

Crosshair closes his lips around your clit and sucks hard as he eases two of his fingers into you and curls them, pressing them right against that spot inside you that makes you see stars.

Your hips, which had been rocking against his face, using his mouth for your pleasure, stutter as you teeter on the edge of your orgasm. You just need a little bit more, but you aren’t able to vocalize it.

Luckily, Crosshair knows you as well as you know him, and one of his fingers slides across your folds, and then further back to circle the tight ring of muscles of your asshole. 

And you shatter with an almost broken moan, your vision dimming as you plummet over the edge. 

Tech pulls himself from your mouth and Crosshair quickly lifts you and moves you down his body, quite happily pulling you down on his solid cock until he’s completely bottomed out.

“There you go, kitten.” Crosshair mumbles as he wipes his lips with the back of his hand, before he slides his hands to caress your breasts, “Move for me, sweetheart.”

“You need to open your mouth again, cyare.” Tech whispers, a proud smile crossing his face as you mindlessly obey him, “Good girl. Such a good girl.”

He’s just about to slide his cock past your lips again, and Crosshair is just about to start thrust up into you, when all three of you are distracted by heavy footsteps.

“Crosshair? Tech?” Hunter’s voice echoes from the forest, and then there’s an explosive sigh, “I’m not going to come any closer because I do not need to see what I can smell.” He sounds deeply grieved.

“Go away, Hunter.” Crosshair snaps as he pinches your nipples and pulls a soft moan from your lips. “We’re busy.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Hunter calls back, “We have new orders.”

There’s absolute silence for a moment.

“If I have to come over there and get you-” Hunter threatens.

“We will return to the ship shortly.” Tech calls, “We need…an hour?”

Crosshair searching your face for a moment, “Not even. 30 minutes, to give her time to recover.”

“An hour would be preferable.” Tech argues.

“Five hours would be preferable, but orders are orders.” Crosshair counters. He sits up and caresses your cheek, “I’m afraid we’re not going to get to play like we wanted to, kitten.”

“S’okay.” You whisper to him, though you are careful to make sure that Tech can hear you too.

Tech settles back, “We need thirty minutes, Hunter.” He calls.

“Fine, but if you’re not back in thirty-” He leaves the threat hanging, and then he stomps away.

“You first, Crosshair.” Tech says quietly, something quietly wistful on his face, “I will have my turn when you finish. We will just have to play properly later.”

You lean your forehead against Crosshair’s, your breathing heavy, as he thrusts up into you. 

“Deal.” Crosshair replies with a glance at his brother, before focusing his attention on you, a small smirk crossing his lips, “Ready kitten?”

“Always-” You gasp out in response.

The events of Beloved happen here

“I appreciate you doing this,” You say as you press the palm of your hand over your new, well, newish cybernetic eye. You’ve come to learn that entering and leaving the atmosphere makes the cybernetic feel very uncomfortable. 

“Ya don’t have ta thank me, kiddo.” The pilot, a Chiss man with bleached blonde hair, drawls as his hands fly over the console, “Yer…da and ya…Ah still owe ya more’n ya owe me.”

A small smile lifts your lips, “You owe me nothing, Cid.”

“Bah, in yer opinion.” He glances at you, “Yer eye botherin’ ya?”

“It’s not fond of pressure changes,” You admit, “I guess that removes deep sea diver from my list of future professions.” You cast your gaze out the front window, “So this is Pabu?”

“Yup, like a glimmerin’ gem.”

“Cid, I didn’t know you were a poet.”

He flashes you a roguish grin, “Ma lady loves it.”

Your smile widens slightly, though it fades when you turn your attention back to the planet.

6 months ago, the clones turned on you and your fellow Jedi. The majority of your brethren were wiped out before they even knew that they were in danger.

You had been in the temple, catching up on some school work that you missed out on due to the war.

It was a blessing, perhaps.

After all, if you had been on Kamino, you’d definitely be dead. Rather than just…

Your fingers glide down the smooth metal of your new prosthetic arm, a gift from Senator Riyo Chuchi, just like your new cybernetic eye. She even offered you shelter for the last six months, while you recovered from your injuries.

You’ll never be able to pay her back.

Still, she swears up and down that Pabu is a safe place, a good place for someone like you to vanish. And you need to vanish.

“A’right there, kiddo?”

“Yeah. Just…lost in thoughts.”

He reaches over and lightly grips your shoulder, though he doesn’t say anything as he focuses his attention on bringing the ship down to the landing pad.

He says nothing until the ship settles on the landing pad, and then he turns to look at you, his crimson eyes scanning your face. “Bein’ a Jedi taught ya how to survive. Taught ya how to adapt. Yer gonna be fine, kiddo. An’ if yer not…jus’ give ol Cid a holler.”

You stare at him for a moment, and then you smile at him, “Thank you, Cid. Really. It’s nice to know that the Jedi still have some friends in the galaxy.”

“More’n ya might believe.” He places both of his hands on your shoulders, and squeezes, “See ya around, kiddo.”

You nod once, and then slide out of the co-pilot’s seat to gather the one bag that you have from your life before, and you step off the ship and onto the landing pad to start your new life.

You move to the edge of the landing pad as Cid powers his ship back on and takes back to the sky, and then you turn to get your bearings. The island isn’t large, you can only imagine that everyone knows everyone.

Still, according to Riyo, this is a refugee planet, so maybe people don’t dig here.

You step off of the landing platform to follow the path towards the building that you can only guess is the welcoming center.

The woman at the desk, a Togruti woman, is very patient with you as she processes your citizenship. She doesn’t ask many questions, though she does eye your prosthetics and scars with a sympathetic smile.

“Welcome to Pabu,” She says quietly, “I hope you find peace here.” She presses a map into your hands, as well as written instructions to the nearest hotel.

Useful.

So you thank her, and then step out the main doors.

Pabu is a tropical island, which means hot. You’re immediately grateful that Cid suggested that you switch to a tank top and shorts rather than the longer clothes that you’ve taken to wearing since you lost your arm. 

It’s also humid. So humid. Humid enough that you’re sure that your hair is already getting frizzy.

You sigh and rub the back of your neck and pull your hair off your neck with a hair clip, and then you focus your attention on the written instructions in your hand.

“After leaving the welcoming center,” You mumble to yourself, “follow the sidewalk to the left until you reach the jewelry store, then turn right-” You look around and then you hoist your bag up on your shoulder and you start following the sidewalk.

“Jewelry store? Jewelry store…oh! Jewelry store.” The shop is, quite literally named, Jewelry Store. Handy. You glance at the note again, “Turn right, and follow the sidewalk until you reach the whale statue.”

You glance both ways, before you cross the street and you start walking.

You pause as a shop door flies open and a small girl with short blonde hair darts out into your path, running into your leg, “Ah! I’m sorry!” She blurts, as she looks up at you.

She has a very familiar face. A very, very familiar face.

“No harm done,” You reply, your voice slightly strangled.

The girl stares at you, and then beams, “Oh! You must be a new arrival! My name is Omega.”

Well, so much for your hope that she just looks like a clone.

You introduce yourself with a small smile, even as you carefully, very carefully, reach out through the force to try and determine if you’re in any danger. 

There are no warnings, and so you relax. Ever so slightly.

“Um…wait…” Omega reaches up and twists a strand of pale blonde hair between her fingers, and you jolt in surprise. It’s weird, seeing your habits on another person. You used to twist your padawan beads when you were trying to remember something, and when you were promoted, you took to rolling some of your hair between your fingers.

A habit that Hunter took up when you took command of Clone Force 99.

“I know your name…” the little girl murmurs. “Why do I know your name-?”

The door to the shop slides open again, “There you are, Omega. I was wondering where you ran off to.”

You turn your gaze to the veritable wall of muscle that just came out of the shop.

You’d recognize Wrecker anywhere. Even dressed down in civvies.

It’s funny, you thought you’d be nervous about running into any of your men. Especially after the temple. But you’re calm, peaceful even.

“There’s a new person, Wrecker. And her name sounds familiar-”

“Well, names are names Omega.” Wrecker replies, before he finally glances at you, “Welcome to Pab-” He stops mid-sentence. You see his gaze dart to your cybernetic eye, and then drop to the prosthetic arm, “...General?” Wrecker, who’s usually so loud and enthusiastic, sounds hushed and disbelieving. 

He sounds guilty.

And you can’t allow that.

So you flash the smallest smile, “Hey, Wreck.”

Wrecker drops his shopping bags into Omega’s arms, pulling a disgruntled noise from her lips, before he tugs you into a tight hug, “Thought you were dead.” He says against the top of your head, “Tech and Cross will be thrilled-”

You don’t move for a moment, and then you release a sigh and wrap your arms around him as well, “I got lucky,” You admit, not the least bit surprised when he doesn’t release you.

He finally pulls back, his hands warm on your shoulders, and his gaze darts across the scars covering your body. You can see the questions on his face, but he swallows them, with difficulty, and instead squeezes your shoulders, “You’re coming home with us.” Wrecker announces, “It's where you’re supposed to be.”

“If you insist.” And it’s as simple as that.

The house your boys share is located near the water. It’s a massive house, big enough that they all probably have their own rooms. That had to have come as a shock to them, seeing as they shared for most of their lives.

Wrecker leads you up the stairs, with Omega in the lead. The little girl isn’t sure what to make of you, not that you blame her. You have just as many questions about her as she probably has about you.

“So this is where we live.” Wrecker says as he leads you into the house, “It’s kinda big, but it’s nice too. We never had our own space before.”

There’s light footsteps coming from the kitchen area, “Who are you talking to, Wrecker?” Crosshair asks as he steps into the front hall, his gaze locked on his brother, before it drops to land on you.

Crosshair stops.

His sharp eyes lock on your arm, your eye, your scars.

And then he’s moving, shoving past Wrecker and stopping only a little bit in front of you. His hand, rough and calloused, gently grips your chin and he tilts your head back so he can see your eyes properly, “Oh, kitten.” He breathes out.

He doesn’t ask what happened. He doesn’t have to.

“Hi Cross.” You whisper.

He releases your chin and his fingers move to your prosthetic arm, to the scars that mar your once barely scarred body.

There’s more footsteps, and then Tech is there. His gaze finds you immediately, and he quickly moves to stand next to Crosshair, his eyes cataloging the array of healed injuries covering your body.

It doesn’t take much longer for Hunter and Echo to join the crowd in the hallway, with Omega watching everyone with confusion on her face.

It’s a confusion you understand, though you’re sure that your confusion isn’t at all similar to hers.

Slowly you set your bag on the ground and you hold up a single hand, “Boys.” You don’t raise your voice. You don’t have to. All five of them immediately fall silent when you speak.

You don’t understand.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath before you open them again, “I’ve had the…most awful of times.” You say, quietly. “I would, very much, like to know what crime my people committed to deserve to be executed in our own home.”

The faces around you change. Delight morphs into something stricken. “You…don’t know?” Hunter asks.

You glance at him, “Tell me.”

Hunter takes a deep breath, “Yes ma’am.”

One very, very long conversation later and you finally understand. The knowledge that the men hadn’t turned on the Jedi willingly, that they were forced to do it, eased a hurt that had been festering in your heart.

Though now your heart hurts for the men who are little more than slaves to the Empire.

But that was earlier. Now you’re sitting on Crosshair’s bed, your back pressed against the headboard while he makes room for your stuff in his closet. Tech is messing with something at Crosshair’s desk, and they’re both completely silent.

Crosshair, you know, will wait for you to say something. He’s incredibly patient like that.

You suspect that Tech is going to break first.

And you're right, as only moments after you have that thought, Tech pushes the chair back and moves to the bed to sit next to you. There’s probably a million questions running through his mind, but you can wait for him to settle on one.

But he surprises you. 

He doesn’t ask anything, instead his hand moves to a large scar on your shoulder. There’s something pained and guilty on his face. 

You reach out and press your hand against his cheek, “It’s not your fault.” You whisper, “Either of you.”

Crosshair drops a jacket to the ground and joins you on the bed, his strong arms slide around your waist and he drops a feather light kiss to your throat, “We should have been there.”

“We thought you were dead.” Tech adds, sounding so deeply pained that your heart lurches.

“I’m sorry,” You comb your fingers through Tech’s hair, and he sighs as he presses his forehead against your other shoulder. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” Crosshair says roughly, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You shift and lay your cheek against the top of his head, and his arms tighten around you. 

“It’s funny,” Crosshair murmurs against your skin, “I genuinely thought that the only thing I would want when I had you back in my arms is to make you fall apart for me. But now that you’re here, all I want is to hold you.”

You laugh softly, “I love you too, Cross.” You say as you press a light kiss to the top of his head.

Tech presses himself firmly against your other side, “When things get back to normal,” He murmurs, “I would like to give you a full examination, so that I can see how your prosthetics and cybernetics work. So I can keep you healthy.”

“Of course.”

“No one is ever going to hurt you again, cyare.” Tech promises.

“That’s not your job, Tech. But thank you all the same.” You whisper as you press a kiss to the top of his head as well.

And then you squeak as you’re tugged down the bed so your head is resting on one of Crosshair’s pillows. His face is pressed against your neck, and his legs are tangled with yours. Tech rests his head on your shoulder, his fingers threading with yours. 

For the first time in months, you feel safe.

And slowly you drift off to sleep. Sure that this was part of their plan.

Your boys always did know you better than anyone.

[cupidbedsy]

❃ draft day ; flowers

➪ summary: on her way to watch adam get drafted, she's late and inevitably ends up lost. but it's a good thing she's clumsy and runs into (literally) connor bedard

➪ warnings: tiny mention of scissors

➪ word count: 1k

➪ file type: flowers fic w/ insta edit

➪ cupid's notes: welcome back to flowers everyone! i hope you all are excited about this au, i promise it is not as messy as it was last time. well until... anyway, feel free to start sending asks about this au or walking on sunshine as well!

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

“Hurry up!”

“I’m sorry I know I’m late, just leave without me, I can drive there, I promise.”

“What are you even doing?” Luca came into his sister’s room to see craft supplies all over her room, flung from her suitcase. Her cutting board was on the ground, she had pens all over her desk, flower stems surrounding her on the floor, and her scissors were so close to stabbing her as they laid on the wooden surface. 

When Luca noticed the scissors, he quickly ran over and grabbed them to keep from stabbing the girl, not like it would’ve done that much damage in Violet’s mind. “I’m making Adam’s present.”

“V, I’m sure he’s not going to care if he gets his bouquet now or later.” Luca sits on her bed fiddling with the sheets. 

“He might not care, but I do. And somehow I’m missing a flower, I have to go and get another amaryllis. Just go without me, I’ll be there.”

Luca didn’t look all too happy that his sister would be driving by herself despite having her license and he knew she was more than capable of driving. He went to offer to stay with her but she shut him down with a look, “No. Go.”

The boy sighed and walked out of her room, getting in the car with his brother and parents. Violet sighed to herself as she fumbled around her room for her flower cutters, packing up everything she needed. She threw her dress on, ensuring her hair and makeup looked decent enough to go out before driving to the nearest flower shop.

She had driven to Nashville because she needed the road trip and both Luca and Adam had come along. If there was one thing she loved, it was road trips but road trips with someone else were always better than by herself. 

After buying the last small bouquet of blood-red amaryllis from the store, she rushed to her car and began finishing the bouquet. When she finished she grinned to herself feeling accomplished, until she looked at the time. She lightly placed the bouquet down alongside the present that she got from Adam in the passenger seat before driving to the venue, humming along to whatever was on the radio. 

She flew into a parking stall and all but ran into the venue, smiling and waving at the people she passed. When she entered she felt safer, and when she showed her ID she was allowed in and went to find Adam and the rest of her family. 

She was texting her mom when she ran into someone, apologies coming out of her mouth, one after another, “I am so sorry! Totally my fault! I’m sorry, so sorry.”

The boy she ran into had stumbled a bit but didn’t look too bothered, “It’s okay.”

“Are you sure because I was not looking where I was going.” Violet looked around, “I actually have no clue where I am right now.”

When Violet looked at the boy, her brows furrowed, “You look familiar.” 

He reached out his hand for her to shake, “I’m Connor.”

“Oh, you’re the one who’s in line to get drafted to the Hawks. I’m Violet, Adam Fantilli’s little sister.”

“Oh, Adam! Yeah, I met him a little bit ago.” Connor smiled at Violet, “Do you need some help? You look lost, and you also just said you were.”

Connor reached his hand up to rub the back of his neck, looking awkward. Violet held a big grin, “I would love it. I’m just trying to find my family.”

Connor gestured to the way he was walking, “I’ll take you to where we’re sitting.”

They didn’t get far when they saw two figures running toward the two, “Violet!”

Violet waved, “Hey guys.”

Connor looked at the two brothers and frowned slightly knowing that their conversation would be ending, “Connor was helping me find you two.”

Adam looked at him, “Thanks, man.”

The boy nodded, “Yeah, of course. I’ll see you later then?” Violet nodded and so did Adam before Connor walked off. 

“Oh, here Adam.” Violet gave Adam both the bouquet and the present she had gotten him, “Thanks, V.”

Adam hugged his younger sister, kissing her on the head. He then brought Luca into the hug and sighed, “Thank you guys for being here.”

“Of course.”

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

When they announced Connor’s name, Violet did more than politely clap. Her clap was louder than her brothers which caused some looks but they didn’t pay much mind to the girl. They just thought she was anxiously waiting for Adam to get drafted.

She had to sit on her hands as they called out Leo’s name who got drafted to the Ducks. She let her face slip briefly before her usual grin was back on her face. When the Blue Jackets had their pick in, she reached over to hold each of her brothers’ hands, nervous, “...we are proud to select, Adam Fantilli.”

Adam was the first to stand, followed by everyone else. Violet let Adam hug their parents and Luca first before she hugged him, “I’m really proud of you, Adam.”

“Thanks, V.”

He handed her his jacket before walking down the steps and to the stage. The four others stood with smiles on their faces, all of them had tears in their eyes for various reasons but most of them because of how proud they were of the boy. 

Violet wandered off not long after that in hopes she would run into Connor again, and to her luck, she did. Much like the first time, she ran directly into it, “We have got to stop meeting like this.”

“I don’t know, I kind of like when you catch me from falling,” Violet smirked, causing Connor to blush. 

“Trying to find Adam again?” 

She shook her head, “No. You actually.”

“Oh?”

“I was hoping to get your number.”

That was all it took for Connor to reach into his pocket and grab his phone, handing it to the girl. She handed him her phone, and the two exchanged their numbers and socials as well. And ever since then, they talked every day, finding out random facts about each other and their plans for the summer.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 『 instagram 』

violetsflowers

liked by adamfantilli, luca.fantilli, lhughes_06 and 77,840 others

violetsflowers happy draft day everyone! congratulations to everyone who got drafted today and will get drafted tomorrow! but the biggest congratulations to big bro adam. i'm so so so so so proud of you and can't wait to watch you play in the big leagues. treat him well columbus!

tagged: adamfantilli, bluejacketsnhl, nhl

view 221 comments

adamfantilli vi, don't make me cry bro what

↳ violetsflowers i love you weirdo

luca.fantilli little bro plays in big leagues coming 🔜

*liked be violetsflowers and adamfantilli*

username welcome to columbus adam!

username: cutest siblings!

bluejacketsnhl we'll take good care of him, don't worry! welcome to the team adam!

*liked by violetsflowers, adamfantilli, luca.fantilli*

lhughes_06 adam!!!! congrats man

username waiting for the embarrassing photo dumb 💀

↳ luca.fantilli me too

『••✎••』

messyviolet

liked by adamfantilli, luca.fantilli, _connorbedard and 16,754 others

messyviolets someone hold my tissues. from peewee games (teehee), to random medals won, to your first year of college hockey, to your draft, i am so proud of you adam. there is so much i can and would say but i'm a tad too tired to write anymore. i love you and i'm so excited for whats to come next

(last slide was me clingy to luca while adam walked up to the stage fyi)

p.s. anyone know where i can buy an adam fantilli columbus blue jackets jersey?

tagged adamfantilli, luca.fantilli

view 98 comments

adamfantilli @/luca.fantilli was she really clinging onto you that hard?

↳ luca.fantilli yes! bro's got a strong grip, i have the bruises to prove it

↳ messyviolets i wasn't clinging that hard

username i lowkey thought this would've been more embarrassing for some reason, but luca eating a cupcake when adam and violet are trying to look like they like each other is good enough

username why are there three guys in the first pic 👀

↳ messyviolets @/lhughes_06 ....

↳ lhughes_06 we were watching a movie one night and we all fell asleep on her

_connorbedard do you normally post teddy bears?

↳ messyviolets you got a problem with it, number one overall?

↳ _connorbedard nope

↳ username connor?? what're you doing here

FLOWERS MASTERLIST ; AU'S

TAGLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION

[sleepymaven]

The Bsd "Fyodor is Atsushi's Father" Theory:

My Not-so-Deep, Not-so-Serious Explanation on Why This Could Totally be Canon

Signed: A Sleep-Deprived Idiot

(Spoilers for the Entirety of Bungou Stray Dogs)

So... with Chapter 118 in bsd releasing, I have noticed a lot of Fyodor as Atsushi's father related things popping up and... I'm not mad about.

If anything, I'm happy the theory is getting more attention. People even seem to be taking it as canon fact, even if just jokingly.

Really, I believed the theory was plausible since it first was brought up in the fandom, but I never actually thought it would be canon because that just seemed too crazy. But those were the thoughts of a sweet summer child since the manga has gotten to the point where that might be the least crazy thing possible.

So, here I am at my keyboard yet again, ready to ramble about how, if this does somehow turn out to be canon, this might be actually rather predictable even to those who don't dive deep into the nitty-gritty lore.

Now, I won't ramble on and on endlessly about the book and Atsushi's ambiguous past and how he may be the book or a page from the book and yaddy-yadda. Instead, I'll focus on some key aspects of Atsushi's character design. First off...

His hair.

As I said, this is not all that serious or deep, so take my words with a grain of salt before you start bashing me or something for being ridiculous. You signed up for ridiculous when you started reading past the title.

Anyway, back to Atsushi's hair.

As we almost all know, Atsushi used to have a black streak in his hair that was later removed for unknown reasons, but he also has white hair.

Now, I could jokingly proclaim, "Hehe, biologically impossible Fyodor x Nikolai lovechild," and be done with it, but I am no clown, unlike Nikolai. No, I have a better, probably completely wrong, idea.

Most of us know that Fyodor has a thing for white-haired men.

Exhibit A: Every fucking member of the Decay of Angels

I rest my case.

Also, I feel the need to mention that 3 out of 6 of them have red-ish eyes while the other two have purple-ish/blue eyes. Just pointing out that little tidbit I noticed while finding pics for them.

So, it would make sense for Fyodor to pick and choose which attributes to give to his quote-on-quote "son" when he made him from the book, picking out certain traits he found appealing and pleasing to the eye.

(Also, yes, this could mean that Fyodor could have chose specific attributes that were similar to Nikolai. Boom, lovechild route.)

This could explain certain similarities between the characters who seemingly have no biological connection between one another. Their only connection then only being through Fyodor by just knowing him.

Got all that? Alright, next up...

His eyes.

Now, Atsushi's eyes are rather unique, even for the world of Bungou Stray Dogs. What also sticks out about them is the fact that they are pointed out and focused in from time to time.

Example:

(Fucking gorgeous eyes he has, btw)

To break down the colors of his eyes... While in normal lighting in the anime, they appear to be normally purple and yellow with just a hint of green in it, but under the full moon (as seen here) we can see that his eyes are a light green-yellow at the bottom and purple on the top that fades into blue.

(There are also a few times where his eyes also change while using his ability. Like when they turn almost fully yellow.)

I want to point out the colors of his eyes and the fact that they change due to certain circumstances (i.e: using his ability, being under the full moon), which is clearly not normal in their world seeing as how other ability users don't seem to do that at all.

(Edit here: I actually would like to mention that, in the manga, Nikolai's eyes also change color. The green one sometimes will change to match his normal eye whenever he uncovers it. I saw a theory talking about how it might change depending on whether or not he is lying at the time, which is pretty neat. More Atsushi and Nikolai parallels.)

Now, this might seem like a bit of a stretch just like the rest of this post, but the colors used for his eyes are similar to the eye colors of people Fyodor knows, though they are different shades.

Purple like Fukuchi. Green and blue from Nikolai.

Fyodor's eyes are also a shade of purple, kind of, so... Yeah, that works too, but Fukuchi's shade of eyes are closer to Atsushi's.

Yeah, that's all I can think of now and this is already way too long (if I start talking about Atsushi's mysterious past, I'm going to make this a mile long. Maybe later tho), so I'm ending it here for now.

Alright, bye ya'll.

[puzzleglum]

I posted the original version of this giant Lanyon and Hyde analysis essay (plus theories!) on the 30th of December last year. That was when this page was the latest. Since then, I’m happy to say that it still holds up well, so far! But since I never posted it properly on Tumblr itself, I thought I’d do so now. Especially since I’m planning to write more about Lanyon and Hyde very soon! That will be a bit of a follow-up to my thoughts in this. This version includes edited in comments to account for the NEW pages that came out since I first wrote this essay. So for anyone who’s read it before, you’ll find the new stuff I wrote between brackets! [Like so.] It ended up being about 750 words longer. Total wordcount is now around 3150. I had…a lot of thoughts. For future reference, the latest page, as of the time I posted this edited essay, was this one. Enjoy!! ——— I believe this conversation has the potential to be radically important to the story, the themes, and character arcs. Even lifesaving. Why? Because Hyde has already given up. He knows that saving Jekyll is impossible. It’d be like diving into a black hole and then trying to get out again. You just can’t do it. Hyde would get exactly as stuck in their mind as Jekyll currently is, if he tried to go after him now. But, he didn’t yet try to think of a way around that problem. It’s hard to think when you’re having a mental breakdown, though, so I don’t blame him. What Hyde needs is some help. A chance to calm down and think about any and all solutions he missed. Enter: Lanyon. One of the stubbornest people Jekyll and Hyde have ever known. And thank heck for that, because that stubbornness might be exactly what Hyde needs, right now. There is no way in hell Lanyon is just going to stand by and let Hyde give up. Just like how he couldn't just watch as Jekyll was sacrificing his health and sanity in the name of the Society. He even threatened to close the Society to try and save him!

What Jekyll has done, his mind-suicide attempt, is exactly the end point of what Lanyon was worried about. Because Jekyll did it to save the Society from being destroyed by his secret getting out. He’s placed himself on the altar, deliberately, to bleed out. One final sacrifice as their leader. But of course, on an emotional, visceral level, he really did it to make Hyde suffer.

Hyde’s the one who is now literally bleeding. He’s been abandoned, condemned, and feels like a worthless monster. This is the end for him, and he knows it. So. What will Lanyon do, now that he’s let himself into the office? If I were him…I’d get out the first aid supplies, because Hyde’s glass cuts aren’t going to clean themselves up. [EDIT: this prediction about the first aid turned out to be right! Hooray! But that still leaves the question of whether Lanyon will convince Hyde not to give up on the idea of getting Jekyll back…which requires a more emotional kind of help.]

But the question is, can Hyde allow himself to be helped? He’s prideful, and stubborn. Always has been. And just like Jekyll, he hates to feel emotionally vulnerable. That’s why Hyde’s first reaction when Lanyon opens the office again is to taunt him. Anything to get back even the smallest feeling of control. He refuses to drop the act and admit the obvious: he did make quite a mess of himself. But Lanyon sees through him easily. He, too, knows the feeling of wanting to seem in control. [EDIT: there’s also an element of fear as to why Hyde tries so, so hard to keep up the act. I’ve written more about that here. And, on the latest page, Hyde DID admit that he made a mess of himself! Gradually, Lanyon is managing to chip away at Hyde’s mask. If you ask me, it’s just a matter of time before he drops the act entirely.] But before I talk further about Lanyon and Hyde, I want to talk about Jekyll for a bit. I’ll circle back to those two, no worries. Jekyll never wanted to ask Lanyon for help, either. When Not-Lanyon suggested it, he shut it down immediately. Looking anguished at the very thought of Lanyon finding out about his secret.

It’s not that he didn’t need help. He knew he was struggling, that the conflict with Hyde was wearing him down. But, it’s the idea of letting others in that’s torture to him. The moment he’d let anyone in to help, they’d see how profoundly imperfect he is. They’d see him as a monster. He can’t stand the thought of being seen as anything less than “good.” So he thought he could fix it by himself, because he had to. It was always about shame. He couldn’t let Lanyon know how he had failed to “fix” himself with his experiment—the thoughts he shouldn’t have, the things he shouldn’t want. All so terribly improper. So evil. Asking for help would mean they’d see how truly “rotten on the inside” he is. And Jekyll would’ve rather died than let that happen.

And now they can see it. The secret is out. It’s over. This is the end for him. All his failures, his madness, on full display for everyone to see…it’s his worst nightmare come true. And the worst part is Lanyon seeing him like this. Jekyll has always admired Lanyon, always considered his opinion highly, always cared what he thought of Jekyll. He even used to think of Lanyon as exactly the kind of Perfect Gentleman that Jekyll so desperately wished to be. Until it became clear, during Hyde and Lanyon’s first talk, that Lanyon is simply human, not perfect after all. But I digress. Jekyll was very good at hiding his secrets, until the events of the story slowly took that away from him. Suffering in silence, until he couldn’t anymore. The involuntary transformations, the instability of his and Hyde’s form, was the final nail in the coffin for that secrecy. Lanyon finally got to see why Jekyll thought he was “rotten.” Because the rot has a name, and it’s Hyde. The embodiment of everything Jekyll hates about himself. Everything he could never show others. Everything he tried to separate himself from, in the pursuit of perfection. Everything he never wanted Lanyon to see in him. But, let me rewind a moment. What happened before the reveal? What did Lanyon do?

While Jekyll never asked Lanyon for his help, that doesn’t mean that Lanyon wasn’t trying to help him anyway. He’s been trying to help Jekyll this whole story. But he had no idea what the problem was. And you can’t truly help someone if they refuse to let you in. It hurts, when you want to help your loved ones, and they don’t trust you with knowing what ails them. It hurts, to reach out and be rejected. So Lanyon tried again, desperate to be let in. To help, no matter what it was.

Lanyon still doesn’t know what the problem is, but he can make a reasonable guess. After all, he’s no stranger to internalized homophobia. Or fear of commitment, or attachment. Not to mention that the kind of relationship they have will always carry risk with it. We can’t forget that it was criminalized to be gay in the Victorian period. That fear is perfectly understandable. Which is just one of the many reasons that Lanyon confessing his love for Henry carries such weight for them. He truly wants to be there for Jekyll. No matter what it takes. Even if it means being emotionally vulnerable, something he’s usually quite allergic to himself. It’s something he, Jekyll, and Hyde all have in common. All of that is to say, it’s such a shame what happens next, isn’t it?

Hyde refuses Lanyon’s attempts to reach out, just as Jekyll did. He tricked him so he could make his escape attempt. Once again, Hyde runs away. How ironic then, that Lanyon was just talking about how he understands the urge to run away! [EDIT: not only does Lanyon understand wanting to run away, he also understands putting on an act. Keeping up a certain reputation. Something Jekyll and Hyde are both concerned with. Lanyon’s persona of a cynical dandy who doesn’t care about anything, Jekyll’s persona of a perfect gentleman, Hyde’s persona of the evil spirit of London at night…it’s all a performance. It’s defense, and sometimes offense. It’s excuses. It’s coping strategies, and armor to hide behind. It’s a lot of things, for all three of them. Personas are tools, and we may adopt them for lots of different reasons.] Of course, it’s different from Hyde’s perspective. From Jekyll’s point of view, Hyde is the problem he so desperately tried to “fix” on his own. Obviously, Hyde doesn’t want Jekyll to succeed in his efforts to control or contain him, or get rid of him. What he ultimately wants, what has always motivated him, is to be free. And to that I must ask, free from what, exactly? I’ll get back to that question later. Let’s put a pin in that for now. [EDIT: this is one of those things I’ll talk about more in a follow-up post. No worries!] I’ve seen one read of this scene being that Hyde is jealous. That he wishes that love confession was for him, not Jekyll. Which could certainly be true! But I’d like to add a different read, or at least, to add something else to that read. Earlier, Hyde had been taunting Jekyll with the idea of Hyde stealing Lanyon away from him. Jekyll, naturally, got defensive. What could Lanyon possibly see in Hyde? To that Hyde replied, what could Lanyon see in Jekyll?

So another read I have is that Hyde finds a certain bitter irony in Lanyon’s love confession. Because Lanyon doesn’t even know who Henry really is, and he doesn’t know that Hyde is the Sweetheart side of Henry that he so jealously wanted for himself, fifteen years ago. So, from Hyde’s perspective, perhaps that love confession actually IS, or at least SHOULD be, aimed at himself. And Lanyon doesn’t know there’s such a distinction to be made in the first place. Isn’t that just so deliciously ironic? To say you love someone, without even really knowing them? Maybe Hyde thought that Lanyon got the wrong guy when he said that he loved Henry. (But, in another sense, he absolutely didn’t. Because Hyde is every bit Henry, too.) …But, that read only makes sense if you take Hyde’s taunting towards Jekyll seriously. Obviously, he said all that stuff about stealing Lanyon to upset Jekyll. But does he actually believe any of it? I think he wanted to. Tried to convince himself. Because it would prove he wasn't NOTHING. Remember, he had that whole identity crisis where he realized his Spirit of London persona is, and always was, a lie. But if he can be the Doe-Eyed Sweetheart instead, then he must still be worth something. Still the owner of some kind of identity. But now, with Jekyll gone, he might feel different; he's a worthless monster, and it's silly that Lanyon could ever think otherwise. After all, just because Lanyon wanted the Sweetheart…doesn't mean he actually wants the rest of Hyde, too. The destruction. The ruin. The pathetic, worthless wretch that he is. There is NO WAY Lanyon cares for THAT. Could ever love him when he's obviously NOT being the Doe-Eyed Sweetheart right now, and isn't capable of it in such a bad state, either. So Hyde clinging onto that label of Sweetheart was foolish of him, he might think. Maybe he believes he was delusional to think he was ever anything more than an evil monster. That he COULD be more.

(To be extra clear: I, myself, don’t believe any of the harsh judgments of Hyde in the previous two paragraphs. I just wrote it how I believe Hyde might be seeing it right now. His personal perspective. My own thoughts are very different!) Thus, the insincere taunting towards Lanyon. Because he knows he's no sweetheart, and Lanyon was a stupid lover boy for ever giving him that false hope. That hope of an IDENTITY. A place, or person, to belong to. But, moving on. I can totally see a moment, in the current confrontation between Lanyon and Hyde, where Hyde might be confused as hell if Lanyon doesn’t just…abandon him. Because he should, right? Jekyll is gone. It’s too late to rescue him, as Hyde already told Lanyon. What reason could Lanyon possibly have to stick around? To Hyde, it’s clear as day that he’s hopeless. Saving Jekyll, and thus saving Hyde as well, is a futile endeavor. So that’s my first theory: Lanyon will stick around, and try to help Hyde. Likely starting with cleaning up Hyde’s glass cuts. Hyde won’t get it, at first. Lanyon knows Hyde’s not Jekyll, right? He knows Jekyll is never coming back, right? Then, why, pray tell, won’t Lanyon just leave? Can’t he see that Hyde is evil, and doesn’t deserve any help? [EDIT: judging by how shocked and bewildered Hyde looks when Lanyon goes to patch up his injured hands, I think there is truth to how I envisioned Hyde’s thought process here. But it will be clearer as the scene goes on. Hyde asking whether the fact he caused those injuries to himself horrifies Lanyon also fits with Hyde’s very negative self-image and self-hatred. He’s expecting the answer to be yes, of course it horrifies and offends Lanyon’s sensibilities. Jekyll and Hyde share this fear that Lanyon would hate them if he knew the truth about them. But thankfully, Hyde is wrong. That’s clearly not what Lanyon is leading up to with that “But…” and as for me? I’m expecting a note of acceptance from Lanyon, and likely a re-affirmation of love. That’s what I predict, anyway.] And thus I circle back to my question at the top of this post: Can Hyde allow himself to be helped? Can he find it within himself to let Lanyon in? And to that I say: may I present some visual parallels? :)

“Now, it’s only a matter of time.” This was the start of Jekyll’s resignation to his own fate. There was no getting better. There was no saving him. Inevitably, his secret would get out to the wider public, and then the Society would fall. Everything they’d all worked so hard for, sacrificed for, lost in an instant. The only option left, he realized later, was to bury himself within his own mind, and let his secret die with him. Note that the door is closed. He’s alone, isolated, and left with no hope. Barely any light in his dark office. Now check this out:

It’s the same angle on the office. The same top-down view. This was right after Hyde threw Lanyon to the ground and tried to escape the Society. Both Jekyll and Hyde had refused Lanyon’s attempts to reach out, to help, and be let in. He’s utterly confused, powerless, lying on the floor. But look at the door. It’s halfway open. It’s letting light in, even if it’s not enough yet. The secret is so, so close to being revealed, and very soon after, it will be. Soon, Lanyon will know what Jekyll was dealing with, this whole time. And that brings us to the end of this lovely trifecta:

What a stunning reversal! Now, the one with the power in this scene is Lanyon, unlike before when Hyde was in power. Hyde’s the one who now lies powerless on the office floor. His taunts are completely ineffective. Note the way Lanyon looms over Hyde. Those beautifully piercing eyes of Lanyon, the eyes that Jekyll and Hyde always loved so much, are trained directly on Hyde. He has no intention of letting him out of his sight, for Hyde to run away again. This time is going to be different. The doors are now open all the way. Letting the light in. Because Hyde will not escape being known, anymore. No more secrets, and no more hiding. [EDIT: I love the fact that Lanyon sees through Hyde, just like how Henry saw through Lanyon’s nonsense, all those years ago. I hadn’t expected that flashback story from Lanyon, but it was SO lovely, especially in how it was used to illustrate that Lanyon GETS IT. He understands the desire to keep up an act, a reputation. He gets what it’s like to hide certain aspects of yourself from the wider world. He can RELATE to both Jekyll, and Hyde. Love it!!] In other words, here’s a handy dandy tweet from Sage, which perfectly illustrates my point:

(This was a comment on an update post for the last page of Chapter 15, where Lanyon finally showed up.)

And it IS mortifying, letting people in! I get it! I do. But sometimes, there is no other option left…except for accepting your own annihilation. Resigning to suffering. But Lanyon has always been familiar with Henry’s tendency to resign himself to his own suffering. For fifteen years, in fact.

And he’s not afraid to force the issue. Lanyon, as I’ve said before, is one of the stubbornest people Jekyll and Hyde have ever known. And sometimes, that’s a really good thing. So Hyde will probably try to reject Lanyon’s help at first. But it won’t stop Lanyon from trying to help anyway. And I do believe Hyde will be the first to give in. He’s in a crisis, remember? One’s stubbornness may tend to give way in such extremely high stakes circumstances. The stakes are literally life and death! What’s worth more, then? One’s pride? Or one’s very life?

———

Final new writing starts here: It’s interesting to me that Hyde didn’t physically push Lanyon away when he started with the first aid on Hyde’s poor bloodied hands. I was right that Lanyon would just help him anyway, without waiting for Hyde’s approval, but I was wrong in thinking Hyde would clearly try to reject it. Instead, he’s just…bewildered. Like he has no idea what’s happening anymore. Lanyon isn’t acting how Hyde would expect at all, and that’s throwing Hyde off in a big way. Hyde is probably thinking something like, if Lanyon knows I’m me and not Jekyll, but he’s helping me anyway, then…?! And it just…doesn’t make sense to him. It does not compute. It goes against all of Jekyll and Hyde’s views of themselves, and of the world. If Lanyon--a handsome gentleman who dislikes gross stuff, and never understood Henry’s fascination with monsters or rogue science--is willingly helping Hyde, who believes himself to be a wretched monster (brought forth with mad science! Wicked alchemy!) who ruined himself, ruined everything, then what is even going on anymore? Has the whole world turned upside down?! And so it becomes clear that, not only are Jekyll and Hyde bad at understanding themselves, sometimes they’re quite bad at understanding their loved ones, too. But to be fair, Lanyon was putting on an act, too. He spent so long brushing off any accusation of feelings, of sentimentality, and worry for his best friend. It’s only recently that Lanyon decided to be open with how much he truly cares about Henry. And it’s still a bit hard for him, I imagine. Being vulnerable. Opening yourself up. But Lanyon has learned that it’s worth it, when it counts. And this? This is absolutely the time when it counts the most. The stakes are the highest they’ve ever been. And I hope, and theorize, that soon enough, Hyde will learn the value of opening himself up, too. It might just help save his life.

It might just help them save Jekyll.

...And that's the end! Thank you so much to anyone who reads to the end, and leave a comment in the post reply section, if you feel like it! I love any and all feedback!! I'll be back soon with a follow up where I examine some other things Lanyon and Hyde have in common, among other topics. Stay tuned! :D

[wide-nose-and-wonderful]

Hello my fellow Black People. How y’all feelin’ Good? Good. So I had this idea. As a way to contribute to the celebration of us this month, I thought a little monthly challenge might be fun. Let this be our opportunity to really show each other some support and love. How are we gonna do that? Well I'm glad you asked. I present to you the Black History Reader Challenge, tumblr edition? What that means is for the entire month I want black readers or black reader/writers to challenge themselves to search tags, ask around, check blogs and find some x black reader coded fics to read and leave comments on. That means you will be choosing 5 or 10 (if you really want to challenge yourself)  black writers on this platform to comment on their work, then leave a nice little excerpt about why we should check out the fic. 

Not only are you providing them encouragement and love with the comment you are leaving on their stories, but you are also shedding light on their beautiful works for others to check out. While it’s totally fine to choose your friends and give them a shout out, it’s also cool to find a writer you haven’t read yet and see what they got. The idea here is connection and interaction. Getting to know one another through the lovely stories we tell as black writers here on tumblr. When you’ve gotten your 5 or 10 selections you would like to highlight, please reblog this post and add your findings as an attachment so we can keep a running chain. 

Please see below on how this should look. 

Writers URL:  Title of Work You Read: (make sure you link) But did you leave a comment?  Why do you recommend it?

Here are mine to kick us off. 

Writers URL: @kumkaniudaku

Title of Work You Read: Saints And Sinners

But did you leave a comment? ☑️ 

Why do you recommend it? The Saint and Sinners Series. Yeah y’all know I read it, I mean look at my blog. Crazy about Franklin. This was such a good read I was sad to see it end. I was like no, this can’t be it! The writer really did a good job of writing transitions, and she really conveyed the characters well. The whole time  I felt like it was watching an episode of the TV show. Oh yeah I was totally invested. Franklin was everything in this, and you’ll dig the OC Dorianne also. She fits right in with the dynamic. This was just really fun. I hope we get to see a continuation one day.

-Wide Nose And Wonderful / Mrs. Saint Writes.

2. Writers URL: @twistedcharismaaa

Title of Work You Read: Contemplating….

But did you leave a comment? ☑️ 

Why do you recommend it? This was very soulful. That’s the best way to describe it. Like sitting and listening to spoken word. This writer took this story and explored it through a third person perspective. So by doing that we were in Lakeith’s head, and seeing things through his eyes. We got to see how he felt, what he saw, it was just a really good read.

-Wide Nose And Wonderful / Mrs. Saint Writes.

3. Writers URL: @megamindsecretlair

Title of Work You Read: Camp Wanderlust 

But did you leave a comment? ☑️

Why do you recommend it? Well, for one I think the concept of doing something pre Snowfall was brilliant, and the fact that we have a camp story that features an all black cast pretty much, that’s awesome because when do you ever see us doing that? Also, if you love Franklin Saint as much as I do, then getting to experience him in that little bubble of safety and innocence is everything. He’s just enjoying his life as a young man, flirting and having a good time. The series has gotten off to a promising start and I can’t wait to see where this writer takes it. 

-Wide Nose And Wonderful / Mrs. Saint Writes.

4. Writers URL: @notapradagurl7

Title of Work You Read: Could've Been

But did you leave a comment? ☑️ 

Why do you recommend it? I liked this fic for the simple fact I knew it would probably be one of its kind. What do I mean by that? Well with the low amount of Franklin Saint fanfics, Leon fics is like come on now, not a chance. I saw this and it made me happy. It was nice to see Little Leon get some shine too. I have a thing for characters that don’t get much spotlight. Sometimes they are the best ones depending on the genre, but I loved seeing this pop up.

-Wide Nose And Wonderful / Mrs. Saint Writes.

5. Writers URL: @slippinninque

Title of Work You Read: You Learned To Like Pretty Things Too

But did you leave a comment? ☑️ 

Why do you recommend it? Everyone is on this TCT kick, and I finally got around to reading one after being tagged. I was like okay okay, I can see what the fuss is. Hey I liked Fontaine, the whole crew actually. But this was a nice read because we got to see a softer Fontaine taking care of his girl and just being in the moment. It was sweet. Might have to check out some more Fontaine fics now. Make sure you give it a read! 

-Wide Nose And Wonderful / Mrs. Saint Writes.

Yay! Got my five, but the month is not over so I plan to get another 5. Happy readings everyone! And again happy Black History Month And Always My People!

No pressure Tags: @megamindsecretlair @notapradagurl7 @slippinninque @fairy-cores-world

[thepunkmuppet]

reasons why lorne is queer coded and why I am confused no one talks about the gay icon that he is

he is a stereotypical effeminate gay man down to the voice (i hate that you know the one, but you know the one). he likes glitz and glam and showbiz and female celebrities and parties and pop culture and mimosas and nice clothes and just behaves the way gay men are stereotypically shown/seen to behave (especially in early 2000s media) so um yeah that’s straight up the definition of queer coding but THERES MORE SO IM CONTINUING

his innate passion for music is used as a clear allegory for being different, and by extension sexuality and gender. he was shunned for his unique interest in music by his family and culture, and hated for being different by everyone in pylea despite it being something he couldn’t seem to control. when he comes to earth, he is able to be himself and pursue his passions, and sees pylea and his family environment as literal hell. the culture in pylea is based around conformity and obedience and is run by a shady religious group, so him breaking free from that environment is super relatable for queer people who grew up in religious / anti-lgbt homes

caritas is most definitely a metaphor for a queer safe space / gay bar. there is no violence allowed, humans and demons exist there in peace with each other, and he created it personally from the ground up to provide a space for others like him who are different and might not want to go / be able to go to “normal” or human bars. oh and also there’s a club shooting scene where, despite most of the demons there being peaceful, the shooters are a, afraid of them and b, in this specific case, enjoy hunting and terrorising them for sport because they hate them so much. so. yeah that TOTALLY doesn’t reflect real life queer history and current events not at ALL

the women in the deathwok clan look like bearded men. lorne makes a few comments about cordelia’s beauty and availability as well as some pylean women from the past, but we know that the concept of gender and womanhood is different in pylea. so even if he is attracted to women, his experience of gender and gendered attraction is undeniably queer by human standards regardless

he clearly has a casual thing for angel. like he knows that man is gorgeous but he also knows that angel is in love with like fifteen different people throughout the series and he is just not about that drama

he uses affectionate pet names for everyone, especially angel, ALL THE TIME like honey, baby, muffin, sweetcheeks, angel-cakes etc

he fulfils the gay best friend stereotype very often in the role he plays in episodes, often furthering others’ arcs and the plots of episodes while providing sassy quirky advice and having no personal character growth. bad trope that I do not like but it’s true

he is a kind sweet mum friend and a sassy gay wine aunt at the same time and I love that for him

EDIT I realised this on rewatch recently, I had forgotten there is a scene where just straight up shamelessly asks angel out on a date to a concert. so.

basically I have a lot of feelings about him and I simultaneously relate to him and want him to be my mum and he is a very very special boy who deserves all the love in the world!!! so!!! lorne says happy pride month!!!!

edit: everyone in the tags and comments saying it is obvious you are completely true and correct!! which is why idk why no one talks about him!!!!! I just wanted to put my thoughts into words so here it is

[ultravioletbrit]

fanfiction author interview game

thank you @emlovessid, @courfee, @ecstarry & @calamitoustide for tagging me 💜

how many works do you have on ao3? 12

what's your total ao3 word count? 85,629

your top 5 stories by kudos/likes? Murder Before Pancakes What I Like About You, You Hold Me Tight ocean blue eyes looking in mine He’s So Lucky, He’s a Star Here Comes the Pride

do you respond to comments? Yes! (but I get just as anxious responding to comments as I do when I comment on other people’s fics. I think I just have reader/writer interaction anxiety, but I’m working on it!! <3)

what's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? I’ve only written fluff so far, so none of them really have any angst at all. I could maybe say instant connection. There’s some Black Brother angst with an ambiguous ending, but it’s one of those endings where we don’t know what happens, but we all know what happens, ya know? Plus I’m thinking of doing a part two anyway and then there definitely won’t be an angsty ending.

what's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? They all have really happy endings 😂 But I guess Murder Before Pancakes because they are the most domestic, and fluffy, and settled and so stupidly happy together in that one.

do you write crossovers? nope

have you ever received hate on a fic? Not on ao3, but about my microfics on tumblr I have.

do you write smut? Written – yes. Posted – no.

have you ever had a fic stolen? nope

have you ever had a fic translated? nope

have you ever co-written a fic before? nope

what's your all-time favorite ship? Jegulus <3

what's a wip that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? I have a jealous-James fic, but it’s sad and angsty James instead of hot and possessive James. I have a few scenes written and a lot of dialogue written (so, so much dialogue), but I’m not very good with angst and I’m not good with filler-scenes. So, it will probably never fully come together. (which makes me sad, because I really like the story)  

what are your writing strengths? It might sound like a weakness, but I think one of my strengths is how slow I write. (even if it's really annoying) If I have a scene in my head, I have to get it all out exactly like it is in my head or I’ll forget all the good bits and the smaller things I like by the time I come back to it. So, I spend a lot of time on one scene getting it to match what’s in my head. But this also means I read and re-read and re-read a scene over and over as I’m writing it, and I think that helps with the flow and continuity and it really helps with the editing process. By the time I go back to edit, I’ve already fixed most of the errors.   

what are your writing weaknesses? Anything that’s not dialogue. I love writing dialogue but when it comes to descriptions, actions, inner monologue, feelings, etc., I don’t enjoy it, I don’t think I’m good at it and I think that shows in my writing. I’ve often considered doing a fic in script format where it’s mostly just dialogue.   And this might sound weird, but I also struggle with sounds. I think because I focus so much on dialogue, the sounds a character makes are very important to me. A very specific type of hum or sigh, or agitated sound or startled, or angry etc. I so badly want the reader to ‘hear’ it exactly like I do, and I can never find the right words to describe it. (I may or may not sit at my computer making a sound over and over trying to figure out how to describe it 🤫)    

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic I’m fine with other languages, I enjoy reading it and I think it often adds to the dynamic of a character. I haven’t written any, but I would if the situation calls for it.   

what's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to? I don’t have another fandom I’d want to write. And for ships, I don’t really want to write something different, but if I did it would probably be Reg/Kingsley or James/Evan (underrated ship that I wish there was more of! i know that mean i should write it) But even if I did write other ships, I’m pretty positive it would still be Jeggy endgame.  

what's your favorite fic you've written? Probably Murder Before Pancakes for a lot of reasons. It was my first fic on ao3 and it took a lot for me to post it, and I was really proud of myself when I did. It was also so fun to write; it’s campy and over the top and ridiculous and some parts don’t even make sense if you think about it too hard. It was fun to have that freedom knowing that it didn’t have to be serious or completely realistic. Plus, I love writing soft, sweet, domestic Jeggy. And even though they're murder husbands, they are just so stupidly in love, and I love writing them like that.

np tags: @samynnad102687, @shoopsthereitis, @yourfriendlygryffindor, @black-on-maroon, @wolfpadx, @weasleytriplets

[kmomof4]

A Scoundrel... Or a Gentleman? Ch. 9

We made it, y'all!!!! These two idiots finally get their happy ending and I sooooo hope you enjoy and think the payoff is worth all the angst they've gone through to get here!! Thank you so much for coming along on this journey with me. There's really no words in the English language to express how much I appreciate it!!!

Thank you again to @jrob64 not only for her beta services, love, and encouragement, but also for talking me into writing the very last little bit of this fic and getting back on the doc this evening to look over some pretty extensive edits I decided to do at the 11th hour and 59th min!! Thank you so much again, babe!!! Also thank you to @snowbellewells and @motherkatereloyshipper for the artwork they both made to accompany the fic! I love the pieces and Y'ALL SOOOO MUCH!!!

There is one more full smut scene in this chapter. If you wish to avoid it, stop reading at the double scene change line and resume at the next double scene change line.

~*~*~

~*~*~

Words: 7500 of almost 60k

Rating: M (Smut)

Tags: Regency Romance, Inspired by Francesca Bridgerton's Story, Smut

On ao3 From Beginning / Current Ch

On Tumblr Prologue Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615 @donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings @booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @pirateprincessofpizza @djlbg @lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @anmylica @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie @soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @thisonesatellite @jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones @mie779 @kymbersmith-90 @suwya @veryverynotgoodwrites

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Six years. 

Six years!

Six years he’d kept his feelings hidden from her. For six years his overarching purpose, coloring everything he did, was to keep her from finding out. To keep her ignorant of the depth of feeling inside him - the love, the total and complete devotion, the guilty turmoil, the utter despairing agony of knowing she’d never be his.

All gone in a matter of moments. He’d always prided himself on his iron control - keeping his passion for her deeply buried, never to see the light of day. But in a moment of weakness, he’d pulled his own heart out of his body and presented it to her on a silver platter. 

Hers to make bleed. 

Hers to shatter. 

Hers to destroy. 

And she had done it.

~*~*~

He had no knowledge of how much time passed. It might have been minutes, it might have been hours. He sat in the chair across from her bed, staring out into the night, his fingernails carving half moons in his palms.

He was suddenly aware of her standing shivering in the doorway. She was mostly dry now, but it was obvious she’d been caught in a storm. He wasn’t even aware it had rained. Her hair was still plastered to her face and hung disheveled down her back, splatters of mud on her dress. He lifted a single eyebrow in silent enquiry.

“I’ll marry you, Killian,” she said, her voice so soft he wasn’t sure he heard her correctly. 

“What?” he asked.

She took a deep, trembling breath. “I’ll marry you, Killian,” she said, stronger that time. “If you’ll have me.”

He was frozen in his chair. He couldn’t move if he wanted to, his heart too weary - and wary - to do anything.

“Why?”

She looked shocked for a moment. Perhaps she imagined that he’d come to her, full of joy and purpose, take her in his arms, and accept her agreement in the most ancient and primitive way possible. But he couldn’t. Not yet. She had to be sure. He had to be sure she was sure.

“I don’t know.”

“Really,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair.

A small gasp escaped her lips. “I don’t know,” she said, a bit more urgently. “Please don’t make me figure it out.” He could see her swallow from where he sat. “Not yet,” she whispered.

He rose and took one step toward her. “You can’t take it back.”

She shook her head.

“There will be no backing out. No cold feet. No changed mind,” he continued. 

“No,” she agreed. “I promise.”

Only then did he believe her. Emma never went against her given word. He was across the room in a moment, cupping her face tenderly in his hands, raining kisses across her brow, her cheeks, down her jaw, her neck. 

She raised her chin, granting him more access, her arms winding around him, pulling him forward..

“This is it. Do you understand?” he murmured into the skin of her neck before his lips latched onto her pulse point and he sucked heat to the surface. She nodded jerkily, her moan of pleasure going straight to his rapidly hardening cock.

“Yes,” she gasped, gripping his arms tightly. “Oh, yes, Killian.”

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her to him tightly, so she could feel how ready he was for her. He pulled the neck of her dress until her breasts were exposed to his sight, and then let the dress fall to the floor.

“I’m going to take you to bed and keep you there for however long it takes for you to conceive,” he rasped. 

She was beyond speech, only nodding as he continued his litany.

“Give you everything you desire.”

She nodded again.

“And you’ll enjoy it,” he growled.

“Yes. Oh, yes,” she moaned, as he laved his tongue over her breasts, then down her torso, until he was kneeling at her feet.

“You are mine,” he said, looking up at her, “As I am yours.” Her gaze on him was hazy with passion, but clear in their intent.

“Yes, Killian,” she breathed. “I am yours. And you are mine.”

~*~*~

The most difficult thing about marrying Killian was telling everyone she was marrying Killian. 

Emma sat at the desk in her study staring at the blank sheet of paper in front of her trying to think of the words to put to paper. She couldn’t think of a blasted thing. 

It was too sudden. Too unexpected. If she didn’t fully understand why she was doing it, how was she supposed to explain it to anyone else?

Somehow - amid all the turmoil, avoidance, and actual, physical running from Killian - Emma knew this was right. Declarations of love aside, she wanted to be his wife. She found the acknowledgement settled her nerves and swirling thoughts, and she put pen to paper, the words to her mother finally flowing freely.

She’d just finished the letter when Killian came in, carrying the post.

“From your mother,” he said, handing her a small cream colored envelope.

It was thick. Emma opened it and began to read, her jaw dropping when she got past Ruth’s rather loquacious opening.

“What is it?” Killian asked.

“Oh, my goodness,” Emma breathed, one hand covering her mouth, her eyes round in surprise.

“Is anything amiss?” he asked again. “Emma?”

“Ruby’s gotten married.”

“What?” he asked incredulously. “Your sister?”

Emma nodded, still reading the missive in front of her.

“I wasn’t aware she was being courted.”

“She wasn’t.” She couldn’t disguise the shock she felt as her eyes continued to scan her mother’s words telling the whole story of a year long secret correspondence between her sister and a Lord Humbert of Gloucestershire. And now her sister was married and no one had seen fit to share that information with her until after the fact. “I can’t believe no one told me!”

“Well, Emma,” Killian began, “you have been in Scotland.”

Emma pressed her lips into a thin line and speared Killian with a look. He shrugged.

“It’s like I don’t even exist,” she bemoaned. Killian chuckled, truly amused now. She sent him her most ferocious glare. “Oh, yes!” she said, with great dramatic flair. “Emma! Has anyone told Emma about the happenings here in London? No? Well, perhaps we should!”

“Emma,” he cajoled, “don’t be daft.”

“I’m not being daft. I’m being ignored.”

“I thought you rather liked being so far removed from the rest of your relations.”

“Well, yes,” she said grumpily, “but that’s beside the point.”

“Of course,” he murmured. She glared at him, fully aware he was being sarcastic. “I have to admire any man who gets the deed done with such swiftness.”

“Killian!”

“I did.” The smug grin he sent her was positively lecherous.

She cut her eyes at him, suppressing the twitch at the corner of her lips. “I haven’t married you yet.”

“The deed I was referring to wasn’t marriage.” His fingers found the top of her hand where it rested on the desk and he began to lightly stroke back and forth across the skin.

Emma blushed. “Stop it,” she said, jerking her hand away. “This isn’t the time.”

Killian sighed. “And so it begins.”

“What begins?” she asked, looking at him fully as he moved to the chair across the room.

“We’re not even wed yet, and already we’re an old married couple.”

Emma rolled her eyes and turned back to the letter still in her hand. They did sound like an old married couple, not that she wanted to give him the satisfaction of hearing her agreement from her own lips. It must be because of their long standing relationship. He wasn’t just her fiancé, he was her best friend. And had been for years. 

Who would have thought that she’d marry her best friend?

Surely that was a good omen. She looked back at Killian to see him studying her intently.

“What?” she asked.

“Let’s get married.”

“Aren’t we?” she asked, drawing it out as if he’d taken leave of his senses.

“No,” he said, then shaking his head. “I mean, yes. But no, let’s do it today!” 

“Are you mad?” she asked, incredulously.

“Of course not,” he assured her, excitedly. “Let's do it. Today. We’re in Scotland. We don’t need banns.” He knelt before her, his blue eyes pleading with her to agree. “Let’s do it, Emma. Let’s be mad. Brash. Daring.”

“No one will believe it!”

“No one will believe it anyway.” He had a point there. He rose to his feet and took her by the hand. “Come marry me, Emma.”

“Killian…” She didn’t know why she was dragging her feet, other than for appearances sake. Such haste was rather unseemly after all.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Do you want a big lavish ceremony?”

“No,” she answered, quickly and completely honestly. She’d done that already. It didn’t seem appropriate to do it again for her second wedding.

He leaned in, his warm breath tickling the shell of her ear, making her shiver. “Are you willing to risk an eight month baby?”

“Killian…”

“Come, let’s give our child a respectable nine month gestation,” he cajoled, running his nose up and down the line of her neck.

She could hardly think straight when he did that. “Killian,” she said, pushing him back just enough so she could look in his eyes. “You must be aware that I may not - I probably won’t - conceive. It took two years with Liam.”

“I don’t care.”

“Are you sure?” The look she sent him was extremely dubious. “I think you do. You’ve mentioned it several times.” She was afraid of his response. But she couldn’t proceed, not without a clear conscience in this matter.

“Emma,” he began, looking straight into her eyes. The suave seducer was gone, replaced with a sincerity she’d rarely seen in him. “You want a baby. I love you and want you to marry me. So I want to give you the child you desire,” he assured her. He pressed himself against her, his warmth and strength enveloping her and Emma felt her knees give out. “It doesn’t matter to me if you’re barren. Which I certainly hope is not the case. I would…” He paused, looking down at their clasped hands for a moment, his other hand moving to the flatness of her stomach. “I would love to see you grow round with my child.” He looked into her eyes again and she felt her own eyes fill with tears. “But if fate deals us another hand, all I want, all I need, is you.” He pulled her close against himself again. “Come, Emma. Marry me.”

Emma’s heart melted at his words. She couldn’t refuse him. “Yes, Killlian,” she said, nodding. “Yes, I’ll marry you today.”

The joy that filled his eyes at her words quickly turned to mischief. His hand left her torso and crept under her dress, moving steadily higher, drawing circles on the inside of her thigh.

His fingers found her moist heat and her knees buckled a second time. “Yes, oh, yesssss! Killian!” she exclaimed.

After only a few strokes, he suddenly withdrew his hand from under her skirt - a thoroughly indecent moan escaping her lips - but still held her close. It was a good thing. She’d likely collapse at his feet if he moved away from her. His eyes blazed blue fire, and she held onto him with all the strength she possessed.

He looked down at her, looking every inch the suave, debonair earl - a sly, mischievous, seductive smile on his lips. Meanwhile, she likely resembled a banshee.

“If you’re going to finish, you’ll do it as Countess Kilmartin,” he informed her.

“I am Countess Kilmartin!” she cried, indignant.

“You’ll do it as my Countess Kilmartin,” he corrected himself. He smirked at her, waiting for her response. When she didn’t, he continued. “Shall I get your coat?”

She nodded.

“Will you stay here, or accompany me to the hall?”

“I’ll come with you to the hall,” she ground out. His smirk grew wider.

“Eager little thing, aren’t you?” he said as he took her hand and looped it around his arm.

“Just get my coat, damn you,” she murmured under her breath, but he heard her clearly and chuckled, making her irritation with him melt away. He was a rogue and a scoundrel, but he was her rogue and scoundrel and she knew he possessed a heart as true and as honorable as any man she’d ever met. 

She couldn’t wait to be his wife.

~*~*~

Several hours later, Killian stood in front of the door connecting his and Emma’s bedchambers, clad in nothing but a burgundy robe. He couldn’t help but be pleased by the day’s turn of events. Even if he couldn’t quite believe he was here. 

Married to Emma.

She was his wife.

Thank you, Lord Humbert, he thought, for marrying Ruby.

He doubted Emma would have agreed to marry him today if Ruby hadn’t already gotten married off without her knowledge. 

It might have been his goal for weeks, but it wasn’t until he slipped the ancient gold band on Emma’s finger that he had really believed it.

She was his. 

Until death did they part.

“Thank you, Liam,” he murmured. Not for dying. Never for that. But for releasing him of the guilt. He still wasn’t sure what brought it about, but the night after they’d made love in the gardener’s cottage, Killian knew, in his heart of hearts, that Liam would have approved. Liam would have given his blessing and in his more hopeful moods, he rather thought that if Liam had been the one to choose a new husband for Emma, his brother would have chosen him.

Now he was here, facing the door between the earl’s and countess’ bedchambers. And he had every right to be here. 

It was strange. In London, they hadn’t bothered with appearances. They’d both slept in their respective rooms, making sure the door between them stayed firmly locked. But here at Kilmartin, he’d only moved into the earl’s bedchambers today. When Emma had rebuffed his first proposal, he’d made a show of occupying the room furthest from her, no matter that one or the other of them had been sneaking back and forth the entire time. At least they had the appearance of respectability.

But now, that could all be put aside. He reached for the knob but didn’t grasp it just yet. There was something about this moment - on the threshold of his marriage - that demanded reverence. Savoring.

The only thing that might have made it better was if she’d told him she loved him. It was but a small shadow over the joy in his heart. He would never have her say words that weren’t true because she might feel that she somehow owed him. Even if she never loved him the way he loved her, he knew she cared for him far more than most women of the ton did for their husbands. She loved him dearly as a friend, and if something were to happen to him, he knew she would mourn him with her whole heart.

He really couldn’t ask for more.

He might want more, but he already had so much more than he’d ever believed he would have.

Would it feel different now? Would she feel different in his arms as his wife rather than his lover? When he looked upon her face in the morning, would he think she was more breathtakingly beautiful than he had yesterday? When he saw her across a crowded room…

He shook his head. His love for her was making him a sentimental fool. His heart had always skipped a beat when he saw her across a crowded room. Any more than that and the poor organ probably would have crumbled to ash.

He grasped the knob and pushed open the door.

“Emma?”

She stood by the window in a nightgown of forest green silk. The cut was modest, but the material clung to her curves and for a moment, Killian couldn’t breathe.

She turned to him, a soft but somewhat hesitant smile on her face. Not nervous, exactly, but it was clear to him that she was also aware of the difference they now faced.

“We did it,” he said softly, unable to keep the joyful smile off his face.

“I still can’t believe it.”

“Nor can I,” he agreed, reaching her and stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers. “But it’s true.”

She grasped his wrist, her eyes fluttering shut. “I…” She shook her head.

“What is it, Emma?”

“It’s… nothing,” she assured him. “Forget it.”

He lifted her chin with his fingers as her eyes opened again until their gazes met. “It’s not nothing, Emma. When it’s you, and when it’s me, it’s never nothing.”

She still grasped his wrist and took a deep breath before speaking. “I… just wanted to say…”

Was it possible? Killian held his breath and waited.

“I’m very glad I married you,” she said, her eyes meeting his again. “It was the right thing to do.”

He exhaled roughly, trying to tamp down his disappointment, hoping she didn’t see it in his eyes. It was more than he ever thought he’d hear from her, but so much less than what he hoped for.

But even still, she was here. In his arms. And that had to count for something.

“I’m glad too,” he whispered before capturing her lips with his own.

It was different. She was his and he was hers. And it was a feeling that spread from his rapidly beating heart to the top of his head and the ends of his fingers and toes. His love for her was all encompassing, consuming him from the inside out. 

“I love you,” he whispered into her throat as he left the sweetness of her lips behind to taste the saltiness of her skin. There was no reason to keep the words to himself now, he realized. She’d already heard them from his lips, and even if she wasn’t inclined to say the same, he couldn’t keep the words inside him any longer.

His hands pushed the gown she wore over her shoulders, until it cascaded in a silken heap to the floor. He followed it until he was on his knees before her, his arms wrapping around her waist, his face buried in the flatness of her belly.

Her hands stroked his shoulders through his dressing gown then wove into the strands of his hair. He pulled back slightly and looked up, meeting her blown pupils, with only a thin ring of green surrounding them, just barely discernible in the low light of the lamps.

“Emma,” he breathed. He had no idea why he had to say her name right now, at this moment. But he did. She was everything. Her name. Her body. Her soul. Nothing was more important. He could stay right here, on his knees before her, until his dying day. And he somehow had to show her that. 

“Emma.”

“Killian,” she said softly. “Make love to me.” 

He rose to his feet, peppering soft and gentle kisses along the way. He lifted her in his arms, a delighted giggle bursting from her, and carried her to the bed. He laid her down gently, the mattress embracing them as they embraced each other.

Emma reached for the sash that held his dressing gown closed, her fingers trembling with need. When the knot wouldn’t cooperate, Killian chuckled and stopped his ministrations to assist her.

She pushed the robe from his body and buried her fingers in the hair of his chest. This wasn’t the first time she’d touched him this way, but it felt different now as his wife. It was no longer forbidden pleasure - stolen moments like a child sneaking a treat - but her right and privilege to physically enjoy her husband.

She sighed in satisfaction, his name a whisper on her breath.

“Killian.”

“Hmmm?” he murmured into her skin, never halting the sweet and tender kisses he was pressing to every inch of skin he could reach. She sank into the mattress. She sank into the pleasure of the delectable things he was doing to her. Whatever it was she wanted to say, floated away as if it had never been there, and she could only moan as Killian found a particularly sensitive spot on the inside of her elbow. 

He continued down her arm, his tongue tracing the veins under her skin, his teeth nipping at her wrist before kissing the center of her palm and sucking each finger into the warm cavern of his mouth, his tongue swirling around each tip before releasing it.

She was on fire, and yet it didn’t blaze out of control. It was a glowing pile of well-banked coals, radiating heat throughout her body. 

She felt cherished. Worshiped. Completely loved. 

And she melted for him.

“Killian, please,” she whispered, writhing beneath him.

“As you wish, my love.” 

~*~*~

~*~*~

She opened her eyes to see him hovering above her, his eyes fixed on hers. The blue almost completely swallowed by his black pupils. She wrapped her legs around him and urged him closer to where she desperately needed him, gasping when he finally entered her.

He moved slowly, needing to savor making love to Emma for the first time as his wife. He never thought he’d have this and the sacred moment of making them one demanded a slow, reverent acknowledgement of the gift that she was. The gift he had never believed would be his.

“Emma… Emma…” he moaned. “I have… I have to…”

“Yes, Killian, please,” she said, her words unsteady, lifting her hips, drawing him in deeper until she didn’t know where he ended and she began.

He withdrew slowly and plunged back into her, making her gasp. Again and again he withdrew, pushing her higher and higher until a cascade of pleasure overcame her, rainbow prisms of light exploding behind her closed eyelids, leaving her shaking in his arms, unable to contain the long, low moan of ecstasy pouring from her lips.

His movements became more frenzied and he cried out her name as he climaxed, a prayer and benediction all in one. He collapsed on top of her and it took a few moments for him to move, but when he tried to roll off of her - afraid of crushing her with his weight - she held him tightly to her.

“No,” she whispered. “Not yet.” It wouldn’t be long before he would have to move in order for her to breathe, but just now, she needed his solidness on top of her to keep her from drifting away. This was a sacred moment between them. This joining together as husband and wife, and she wasn’t ready to say goodbye to that just yet.

He acquiesced to her request for a few moments before he softened and slipped out of her. He settled himself on his side behind her and drew her into his arms until she was lined up to him like a nested spoon. His warmth cocooned her and she drifted off, feeling safe, content, and loved. So loved.

~*~*~

~*~*~

“You look terrible,” she commented two weeks later, as she sat down to breakfast with her husband.

“And good morning to you, too,” Killian returned drily, before turning his attention back to his food.

“I’m not joking,” she said, her brow furrowing in concern. “You look pasty, and you’re not sitting up straight. You need to go back to bed.”

He coughed. And coughed again, the second one wracking his body. “I’m fine.” But his words came out on a wheeze.

“You’re not fine.”

He rolled his eyes. “Married a fortnight and already…”

“If you didn’t want a nagging wife, then you shouldn’t have married me,” Emma interrupted him.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, picking up the Times and proceeding to ignore her.

Very well, she thought. Two can play at that game. She picked up a muffin and tucked into her morning meal.

Until he coughed again.

She cut her eyes to him, but didn’t say anything.

The next time a spasm overtook him, he turned away from her and bent over the arm of his chair just a bit.

“Kil…”

He shot her a ferocious glare of such intensity, she immediately closed her mouth.

She narrowed her eyes at him and he cocked his head in a condescending manner, only for the effect to be ruined with another wracking cough.

“That’s it,” she said, throwing her napkin down on the table. “You are sick, Killian. And you are going back to bed. Now.”

She rose to her feet and grabbed his arm where it rested on the table. He was too weak to resist her and her concern instantly turned to alarm. She called for Smee, who hurried in and, taking immediate stock of the situation, positioned himself on the other side of Killian to help him to his feet.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he gasped, as they led him from the room. “And you’re wrong.”

“Mmhmmm,” she humored him. “And how do you know what I’m thinking?” she asked.

“Open book, darling,” he replied, leaning more on her and sending her heart into overdrive. “It’s not malaria.” His voice was low, almost too low to make out, but somehow she knew exactly what he said.

“And you know this how?” she asked again.

“I just do.”

“Mmhmmm.”

They got him into his chamber, undressed, and into the bed. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Emma sat in the plush chair at his bedside, never taking her eyes off of him. It had only been two months since his last attack. And since the previous had been six months before that, did that mean the disease was winning? Emma felt tears fill her eyes. She couldn’t lose him the way she lost Liam. She couldn’t.

~*~*~

Ten hours later, Emma was terrified. Killian’s fever raged, and while he wasn’t flailing, delirious, or incoherent, it was clear that he was very, very ill. During his moments of consciousness, he kept insisting it wasn’t malaria. It didn’t feel like malaria. It was probably just a cold. A very bad cold, he’d finally allowed.

He slept now, snoring lightly, which he insisted he did whenever he was congested, but which she hadn’t been married to him long enough to experience first hand.

She reached out and touched his forehead, and while it was hot, it wasn’t the burning she remembered from his last attack. His lips looked dry, so she spooned some tepid tea into his mouth, hoping the reflex would kick in for him to swallow it while still asleep.

Instead, he choked, spitting it all out. At least there wasn’t enough to drench the bedclothes, she thought.

“What the devil are you trying to do?” he sputtered.

“I was trying to give you something to drink!” she replied, indignant. “You looked thirsty.”

“If I’m thirsty, I will tell you,” he grumbled.

She sat down, staring at him petulantly as he squirmed around, punching his pillows, trying to get comfortable. 

“It’s not like I have much experience nursing,” she said, once he was settled. He grunted in reply. She raised her eyebrows at him, never looking away, even as he studiously kept his eyes away from her. “You wouldn’t be thirsty now, would you?” she asked, mildly.

“Perhaps just a bit,” he ground out.

She handed him the cup of tea and he downed it in a single swallow.

“Would you like another cup?”

He shook his head. “If I do, I shall have to p…” he cut himself off and cleared his throat, impatiently. “Sorry,” he apologized.

She waved his words away. “I have three brothers,” she reminded him. “Would you like me to fetch you the chamber pot?”

“I can do it myself,” he grumbled.

She shut her mouth. There was no use arguing with him when he was like this. He’d figure it out soon enough when he stood from the bed and collapsed right back into it.

“You’re quite feverish,” she said softly.

“It’s not malaria,” he said.

“I didn’t say it was.”

“You were thinking it.”

She sighed and took a deep breath. “What happens if it is malaria?”

“It isn’t,” he insisted.

“But what if it is?” She wouldn’t be deterred on this. She had to have an answer.

He turned toward her and looked her straight in the eye. “It. Isn’t,” he growled, through clenched teeth. He held her gaze for several seconds and then laid down and turned away from her.

She had her answer.

She rose to her feet so quickly, all the blood rushed from her head, making her sway for a moment.

“I’m going for a walk,” she informed him when she was more steady. “Just until the sun sets. I’ll be back soon.” 

He didn’t speak, but shrugged his shoulders under the covers.

She ran.

~*~*~

The air was misty, the clouds threatening rain, so she headed toward the gazebo. It was open to the elements, but the roof would keep her at least somewhat dry if the sky did decide to open up.

By the time she got there, she could hardly breathe. Not from the exertion, but from struggling to keep her tears at bay. Once she was safely contained inside, she stopped trying.

Each sob was huge. Gasping. Coming from the depths of her lungs. From her very being.

Killian might be dying. 

For all she knew, he was dying. And she’d be a widow twice over.

It’d nearly killed her before. She didn’t think she could survive it a second time.

It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair! She couldn’t lose her second husband when so many women of the ton got to hold onto the same one for a lifetime. And they didn’t even love their husbands the way she did.

Emma’s thoughts came to a screeching halt. 

She loved him. 

Killian? 

She loved Killian?

She closed her eyes - picturing his eyes, his face, his smile. Remembering his kiss, the way he touched her.

And she suddenly realized why everything felt so different between them. It wasn’t the fact that they were married, as she’d originally thought. It wasn’t because he was her husband, that she wore his ring on her finger.

It was because she loved him.

This thing between them wasn’t just passion. And it wasn’t wicked or forbidden. 

It was love. 

And it was glorious.

She loved Killian, not as a friend, but as her husband and her lover. She loved him with the same strength and intensity that she’d loved Liam. It was different, of course. They were different men. But the love she had for him was the love of a woman for a man and by God, she did not want him to die.

She rose to her feet and walked to the edge of the gazebo, looking up at the sky.

“You can’t do this to me!” she yelled. A fat drop of rain fell and landed on the bridge of her nose.

“Oh, no, You don’t!” she cried. Three more drops in quick succession. “Damn,” she whispered, wiping away the moisture on her face. “Sorry,” she mumbled at the sky again. She sat back down as the rain poured. Perhaps she’d let the rain disguise her own tears as well.

~*~*~

Killian opened his eyes, surprised to see that it was morning. His drapes were still firmly shut against the light, but there was a definite brightness on the rug below the window that could only be the sun. He must have been really tired.

He tried to sit up, but flopped back immediately, absolutely no strength in him to do so. Damn, he felt like death. Not the greatest comparison under the circumstances. But he could think of nothing else that really captured the ache through his entire body. The thought of sitting up was enough to make him groan in misery.

He touched his forehead, but couldn’t tell if he was still feverish. He just knew that he was covered in sweat and desperately needed a bath.

A soft sound at the door drew his attention. Emma came through carrying a tray with a small bowl and cup of tea. She wore no shoes on her feet, obviously trying to not disturb him, but when she came to the bed, she finally looked up to see him staring at her.

“Killian! You’re awake.”

He nodded. “What time is it?”

“Half eight. Not terribly late, really, except that you’ve been asleep since before the supper hour last night. How are you feeling? Are you hungry?”

“Like hell, and no. Thank you.” He didn’t mean to be short with her, but he really didn’t have the energy to engage in any meaningful conversation at the moment.

She smiled gently at him. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Please.”

She picked up the bowl from the tray and brought it to his lips. He sipped slowly, the lukewarm broth sliding down his throat. He nodded after a few swallows and lay back on the pillows.

“Do you have a fever?” she asked, her eyes filled with trepidation, as if she wanted his answer, but was afraid to hear it.

He tried to summon his devil-may-care smile, but failed miserably. “I’ve no clue.”

She reached out and touched the skin of his forehead. She jerked away quickly and leaned forward to press her lips to the skin she’d just touched.

“Emma?” he asked.

“You’re hot,” she breathed, her eyes wide in wonder. “You’re hot, Killian! You still have a fever!”

He could do nothing but blink at her.

“Don’t you see?” she asked, excitedly, “If you still have a fever, then it can’t be malaria!”

It took a moment for her words to sink in. And when they did, he almost didn’t believe it. But she was right! The malarial fevers always disappeared by morning. He may have insisted to her yesterday that it wasn’t malaria, but in truth, he hadn’t been so sure.

“It’s not malaria,” he breathed.

“You’re not going to die,” she whispered.

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Did you really think I would? If there’s one thing I’m good at, Emma, it’s surviving.”

Her face fell in exasperation as she grabbed a napkin off the tray, dabbing at her eyes with it.

“Oh, you are such a man,” she said with a scowl.

He could do nothing but raise his eyebrows at that.

“You should know…” She broke herself off, shaking her head. “No. Not yet. Soon, but not yet.” She moved quickly toward the door. “I have to do something. I’ll be back soon. Don’t go anywhere.”

And she was gone, shutting the door behind her.

~*~*~

A quarter of an hour later, Killian was feeling remarkably better. Not well by any stretch of the imagination, but strong enough to get out of bed and call for Smee to have someone change the sheets of the bed. 

He sat in the leather chair near his bed and looked out the window as he waited. Across the lawn, he could see Emma, bundled up in her coat and carrying something in her hand, but she was too far away for him to see exactly what it was.

When Smee arrived and he asked if he knew where Lady Kilmartin was going, he blessed the efficiency of the servants' gossip chain.

“She did not share with me where she was going, Sir, but she did ask the gardener for a clutch of peonies.”

Peonies. Liam’s favorite flower. They’d been the centerpiece of her wedding bouquet. It was almost appalling that he still remembered that all these years later, but though he’d gotten completely and blindingly drunk after Liam and Emma had left the party, he remembered the ceremony itself in excruciating detail.

He knew where Emma was going.

He’d been there only once since returning to Kilmartin. He’d gone alone, after that stunning revelation in his bedchamber when he suddenly realized Liam would have wanted him to marry Emma. He could almost imagine his brother sitting up there getting a good laugh out of the whole kerfuffle.

Did Emma realize…? Or was she still riddled with guilt?

He rose from his chair. He knew guilt. How it ate at your heart, tore at your soul. He knew the pain. How it sat like stones in one's belly. He wouldn’t wish it on anyone. But especially not on Emma.

She might not love him, she might not ever love him. But she was happier now than she was before they married, he’d bet his life on it. 

Liam would have wanted her to be happy, to love again and to be loved, and Killian would be damned if she felt any shame or guilt over that happiness. He pulled clothes out of his dresser. He had to go to her. It might half kill him to get to the churchyard, but he had to make sure she knew she was free to be happy.

He could live without her love, but he couldn’t live without her happiness.

~*~*~

Emma sat down on the small blanket she’d brought, the green and gold of the Jones plaid making her smile wistfully.

“Hello, Liam,” she said, carefully arranging the peonies at the bottom of Liam’s headstone. She took a deep breath and looked over the fence surrounding the small graveyard. Liam’s grave was a simple affair, but that was what he would have wanted. Here in the corner of the churchyard, closest to his beloved Kilmartin, his favorite place in the world. So that’s what she’d given him.

“It’s been raining for weeks,” she said softly. “I’m glad to finally see the sun. I know you wouldn’t have minded, but I’ve missed it.” She paused for a few moments, gathering her thoughts. “I… I had a reason for coming here today, Liam. And now it comes to it, I’m having difficulty getting the words out. Something’s happened… I’m not quite sure how it happened…” She looked up to the sky, looking for some divine sign, but there was nothing. Nothing but the gentle breeze. “Maybe I shouldn’t have felt it at all. I don’t know. Or maybe I should have and I just thought I shouldn’t. But either way, it happened…” She chuckled lightly. “I suppose you might have guessed what happened. And who it happened with… Can you imagine?”

And then something truly extraordinary happened. It might have been accompanied by an earthquake of epic proportions, but instead, it felt like something settled inside her. Like the puzzle piece that would complete her, slipping into place for the first time.

She knew, she truly knew, that Liam wouldn’t have only imagined it, he would have wanted it. 

He would have wanted her to marry Killian. 

He would have wanted her to marry anyone she fell in love with, but she thought he’d be rather pleased that it was with Killian.

They were his two favorite people in the world, herself and his brother, and Liam would know they would love and cherish each other. They’d make each other happy.

“I love him, Liam,” she breathed, realizing it was the first time she’d said it out loud. “I love him so much.” Tears filled her eyes and she reached out, running her fingers along the headstone. “I never thought… I truly didn’t think I’d ever fall in love again. How could I? I loved you! I still love you! And finding a love like that again… it was impossible to imagine!” A soft smile touched her lips. “But it did happen. And it happened with Killian. I love him so much, Liam. And I can’t live without him. Thinking that he might be dying… I couldn’t bear it and I knew it was because I love him and I needed you to know. I needed to tell you…” 

A sound from behind her made her turn, but before her eyes landed on him, she knew who was there. She could feel him.

“Killian,” she breathed. He was pale, and weak, and leaning against a tree for support, but to her, he looked perfect.

“Emma.”

She rose to her feet, her eyes never leaving his. “Did you hear me?”

“I love you,” he said hoarsely, tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.

“But did you hear me?” she asked again.

He nodded.

The distance between them disappeared. His arms wrapped around her and she buried her face in his chest, her tears soaking his shirt, but she couldn’t care less. She only needed his warmth enveloping her.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she repeated through her tears. She looked up at him to see the tears swimming in his cerulean gaze, a single one tracking down his cheek.

“I have no idea what I did to deserve you,” he murmured, stroking her cheek.

She laughed, just a short giggle, but full of joy nonetheless. “You didn’t have to do anything. You simply had to be.”

He took her hands in his and kissed the center of each palm. He’d tried so hard to convince himself that he didn’t need her love, that having her as his wife was enough, but now that she’d said it, now that she felt it, he knew better.

He couldn’t live without her. 

This was bliss.

This was heaven.

This was love. True Love.

“For the rest of my life,” he vowed. “I will love you. I will fight for you. I will cherish you. To the end of the world, or time.”

She nodded. “Let’s go home.”

And as he looked back at Liam’s grave, he imagined he could see his brother, a smile on his face, his hand raised in blessing.

Killian nodded and allowed his wife to lead him home.

~*~*~

One Year Later

Ruth Nolan sat in her drawing room, working on a piece of embroidery, her face lifting every few minutes to look out the front windows of Number 5. It seemed like forever before she could see the Kilmartin carriage turning onto Bruton St.

She laid her project aside and rose quickly, calling for the butler. Opening the front door, she hurried down the steps to greet her… She came to a halt halfway down, fully realizing that this was the first time since Emma and Killian had returned to Scotland a year ago after Will and Belle were married that she’d seen them, and that Killian was no longer Emma’s brother-in-law, but her husband. And that made Killian her son. 

In-law. 

He stood on the curb outside the carriage, holding his hand toward the door. Ruth continued down the steps and he turned his handsome face toward her, mischief in his eyes and a smirk on his lips.

“Killian,” she beamed proudly, so happy to see him. He took her outstretched hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. She clucked her tongue at him in annoyance and embraced him instead. 

“Ruth,” he said, a note of chastisement in his voice.

“Ah, ah, ah. You are my son now,” she interrupted smoothly, “whom I haven’t seen in a year, and I will greet you as I would any of my other sons.”

His smile widened and became genuine as she released him. “Very well,” he agreed before turning to the door of the carriage again.

From within, Ruth could hear a familiar sound, though it had been quite some time since she’d heard it in person. Soft cooing followed by a gurgle. 

Ruth’s jaw dropped open as she turned stunned and disbelieving eyes on Killian.

“Ruth, may I present, Lady Kilmartin and our son, William Killian Martin Robert Jones.” Emma appeared in the door of the carriage and took Killian’s hand, her opposite arm filled with a precious bundle that Ruth didn’t hesitate to take into her own arms.

Too overcome with joy to feel even the slightest aggravation over being kept in the dark about Emma’s pregnancy, Ruth looked down into the beautiful sky blue eyes of her newest grandchild. 

“Oh, my sweet William,” she began in a lilting sing-song voice.

“Liam,” Emma interrupted gently.

“Liam,” Ruth agreed, her gaze never wavering as she turned and began climbing the steps back into the house. “I am your grandmama,” she continued. “The first thing we must do is introduce you to your family, don’t you think?”

Behind her, she could hear Killian chuckle. “Do you think we will see him again this entire visit?” he asked.

“Not likely,” Emma replied.

“Of course not,” Ruth called back. “Nolan, Locksley, and now Jones babies all love their grandmamas. Besides, it will give you more time to yourselves to work on giving this precious lad a baby sister.”

Which is exactly what they did. 

And when the family arrived in London the following spring, it was to introduce and christen Hope Ruth Alice Jones.

The End

~*~*~

Thank you all again for reading. This was a hard one to write and post and so I truly cannot tell y'all how much it means to me that you joined me for this journey! Thank you all from the bottom of my heart!!

[tonycries]

hi tony boo (●’◡’●)ﾉ i love ur writing and wanted to ask for tips on how to like write fanfics and stuff ( i just wrote a gojo fanfic and posted it) ANYWAY THANK YOU LUV YOU ALPHA ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

Hihiiii lovely, I'm so flattered you're asking me ahah here are some tips I use when writing - hopefully they can help you even a little bit!!

Write something you deeply care/ are passionate about - this might seem like a no brainer but imo it's important to write something you WANT to write. Not something you feel like you're obligated to - so like a trope or a plot you really really want to see in writing.

An outline is your best friend 😩 I know some writers don't use outlines and that's totally valid, too! But for me personally, writing even a bare-bones outline makes it sm easy to structure a story - this would include things like quotes, actions, etc. that I want to write in specific scenes. I even outline for smut 🤭

Take breaks!! And edit!! I always leave editing for the day after tbh, I feel like when I'm more hydrated and less sleep-deprived, I write better. This also goes hand in hand with not feeling pressure and making sure you rest <3

READ READ READ - by reading a lot (and it doesn't even have to be fanfics, it can be anything really) I feel like you really get experience in the art of using words and such. A better idea of writing as a whole.

Ahhh I hope these were at least a tiny bit useful!! It's really what I do, and the rest is just writing to your heart's content, happy writing <3

[theglamorousferal]

Cryptid of Smallville Chapter 3

Hey ya'll, this has been a long time coming.

First off, I want to thank everybody who liked and shared! I'm not great at talking to people but know that everything has made me so happy and warms my heart so much that I can barely put together words.

Secondly, I will be writing more, but I definitely won't be able to keep any sort of schedule. I already have a good part of the next chapter started and though it's definitely going to be a shorter one, it will still be good.

Finally, this beast of a chapter. I wrote the first 3/4 of this chapter about a week after I finished the first chapter and then began to second-guess myself about whether people would want an entire chapter dedicated to a lore dump. I fought with myself for literal months before I finally sat down and was like, "You won't be able to do the rest of it until you get this one done, it's important". Finally this morning I sat down and plugged out the last bit of the chapter and after looking everything over again I decided to just post it before I lost my nerve.

Please let me know any critiques you may have, I barely edited this. Thank you so much for the support!! <3 Here's the AO3 link

For as long as he can remember, Danny has always been fascinated by space. Something about the fact that each star out there being home to other planets and all the different things on those planets just tugs at his curiosity. To make it better, it’s infinite, so he can just keep learning about new places for as long as he’ll live. Which might be forever, but he’s trying to not think too hard about that right now. 

He wonders what the members of his Fright are up to right now. Jazz it probably trying to psycho-analyze Vlad who claims that his days of evil are over with and that he plans to just be the chill uncle to both the Fenton children. Tucker’s probably hacking into the GIW again just to mess with them. Sam’s probably planning a protest to try and get some of the anti-ecto acts repealed while Mom and Dad help with the research to back her up. Ellie is probably still hanging out with Pandora learning how to fight ancient style. Danny sighed, most of that sounded really fun, and he really wished that he could learn to fight alongside Ellie. He missed his totally-not-twin.

Right now, Danny is basically on vacation until his body is back to being 16. He basically can do whatever he wants, but he does have to go to school to keep up appearances. He’s allowed to use his powers whenever, but not where anybody can see. Which typically means he’s not allowed to go into low orbit to look at the stars because that’s just a bit far for the Kent parents' tastes.

They compromised with the roof.

So here he was, at the highest point of the Kent family home staring up at the night sky with little to no light pollution and not a cloud in the sky. The Milky Way was on full display as the stars all twinkled above. One thing he noticed pretty early on is that despite this not being his planet Earth and dimension, the constellations are the same. He tracked his way through all of the astrological signs, pausing a moment on Libra as he pictured himself as the balance with morbid humor, and then through the popular ones like Orion and the Big Dipper. He glances next to him a moment later when someone settles down on the roof with him.

“Hey Clark, what’s got you up?” Danny asked, turning back to face the sky. It’s been about five months since he started staying with the Kent’s and he’s forever grateful that they’ve been so kind and understanding with him.

“Not much, was finishing up studying for this new unit in science when I noticed you were up here. Heard you sighing, what’s got you worked up?” Clark sat with an arm braced on his knee and the other behind him staring up at the sky as well. 

“Just thinking about what my Fri- family is up to. I know time works differently here and it’s probably just been a couple days or maybe even hours for them, but I miss them a lot. They’re a crazy mess, but they’re my crazy mess, ya’know?” 

Clark glanced down at Danny, the kid looking a bit lost. He shifted so he was leaning back on both of his hands. “Actually no, I mean, it’s just been me and Ma and Pa out here before you came along. I don’t really have friends at school that I’m close with.” He paused for a moment, staring straight out across the fields. “Mind telling me about them?”

Danny whipped his head toward Clark, scanning his face. “Are you sure? You don’t have to listen to me ramble, I know I can go on and on, and I don’t want to bore you or anything.”  

Clark chuckled, “Nah, go right on ahead and tell me about your family and friends, it’d be nice to hear about the people who helped make you, well you.”

Danny paused looking at Clark’s face for a moment before he blew out a breath and turned away to look at the sky. 

“My parents are mad scientists,” Danny started. “Not in the ‘we’re building a thing to take over the world’ way, but in the ‘this sounds insane but it’s somehow real’ way. They’re the leading scientists in Ecto-biology and Ecto-engineering, also known as the study of ghostly behavior, biology and the properties of ectoplasm. Ectoplasm is both an energy source and the material that ghosts are made of. They make all kinds of things from weaponry to shield generators to tracking devices all based on ectoplasm. Their crowning achievement however was the portal.” Danny paused here, debating how much to say. “They built a portal to the afterlife in the basement of my childhood home, and it’s the reason I have ghost powers.” He decided to not get into the fact that he walked in and had a whole dimension pulled through him as the portal opened, no need to scare poor Clark. 

“Lab safety has always been a thing that was more like guidelines than actual rules in the house, so since growing up in that environment, it led to myself and my family getting contaminated with ectoplasm. I definitely have it worse off than my family members, but each of them has something that’s just a bit off about them. Like my dad lifting things he probably shouldn’t, my mom moving just a little too fast, and my sister does this thing where she’s looking at you and it feels like she’s looking at your soul and it takes her just a little too long to actually blink and then she’s psychoanalyzed you and knows all your secrets. It’s unsettling, but we just live with it. I had a bit of an accident so I got more contaminated which is why I can fly and do other ghostly things.”

“Must be great having people around who’ve studied ghosts and everything when you have ghost powers. If you have them, why were you left with us? Wouldn’t it make more sense to have you stay with your parents who can handle it if your powers get out of control?”

Danny winced at this, “It’s kinda complicated. So I have some responsibilities in my dimension that I kinda need to be bigger for. I have all my power, and who knows maybe going through puberty a second time will make them grow more, but for now it shouldn’t be much. I’m mostly here to get something of a ‘normal’ childhood and to wait it out until I’m my full size again. It’ll be weird because by that point I’ll technically be 26 but hey I’m not gonna have to go through all the ‘adult’ things I need to do, just need to lay low and do some fun kid stuff, maybe do better in school this time around, maybe I’ll be able to pass high school when I get back. Maybe I’ll work on learning some stuff that could be useful like karate, that could be fun, we could do it together! Since we’re both strong we wouldn’t have to hold back against each other!” Danny excitedly looked over at Clark. It was hard to see in the light of the full moon, but it almost seemed like the freckles on Danny’s face were glowing green in his excitement. Clark smiled at his excitement.

“Yeah that sounds like fun, we can ask Ma and Pa together tomorrow.” 

“Yeah! It’ll be great, maybe when I get back I can show off that I’m a black belt just like mom. I can show Ellie all my new moves while she shows me what she learned from Pandora.” Danny smiled to himself and yes, those were certainly glowing freckles. 

“Who’re Ellie and Pandora?” Danny stilled for a moment, the freckles dimming a bit. Should he tell Clark about the whole clone thing? Should he mention that he’s friends with what basically amounts to gods? 

“So Ellie’s like my younger sister/cousin, we are very close and everyone says we could be twins, she’s a bit of a free spirit and is traveling a lot of the time. Right now she’s spending some time with Lady Pandora. Does your dimension have the myth of Pandora’s box?” at Clark’s nod Danny continues. “That’s her, she keeps the horrors in a box that she keeps locked down pretty tightly in the GZ, there’s a whole labyrinth and everything. I did have to help her one time when someone got a hold of it, not a fun time, but hey it was one of the first positive experiences my parents ever had when dealing with ghosts so there is that. Pandora has become something of a doting awesome aunt who can and will teach you how to fight if given the opportunity.”

They lapsed into silence for a bit, Clark content to just sit there while Danny gathered his thoughts.

“Let’s see, I talked about my parents, Ellie, Pandora and a little bit about my sister. So Jazz is the most amazing and overbearing sister known to all kind. She has her heart in the right place, but Ancients if she puts me in soup-time one more time, I’m gonna figure out a way to do it to her and see if she likes it.”

“Excuse me, ‘soup time’?” Clark was baffled. “Actually a few things you’ve mentioned have me confused, what is the ‘GZ’ and why say ‘Ancients’ like it’s a curse word?” 

Danny looked sheepish at that. “Right yeah, I forgot, I’m just so used to talking to people who know. So the GZ is also known as the Ghost Zone, the Infinite Realms or the afterlife. Basically it’s a dimension connected to all other dimensions and houses the ecto-entities of the worlds. It’s where all the afterlives are connected together and there are also, like, gods or god-like beings, which are the Ancients I mentioned, there as well as monsters. Basically anything that gives off a whiff of ‘spooky’ is probably connected to the GZ in some way.”

“So your friends in the corn fields?” Clark trailed off giving a dubious look at the fields.

“Yeah, they’re technically ecto-entities. There are places that the veil between thins and sometimes things crossover. Like, I saw in one of the aerospace books that you also have the Bermuda Triangle as a thing, a lot of those incidents are from the veil thinning there and some natural portals opening up into the Infinite Realms. Sometimes they come back out, but it’s likely going to be a different time period than they first went in.”

“So, ‘soup time’?” Clark asked, getting Danny back on track. 

“Right! So, you know how I mentioned that my parents make some crazy things? Well some of those things are containment devices, but there’s one that works the best out of all of them, and that is the Fenton Thermos. Basically it’s bigger on the inside and can suck in and hold an ecto-entity until it is released, usually through the portal. It’s very cramped and not a great feeling and my sister is rather clumsy so when she first started helping me, she accidentally sucked me into the thermos six times. Six times! Like I get it, sometimes somebody’s aim can be a bit off, but she kept getting me and not the ghost that was attacking! She’s gotten better and can and will join us on patrol if need be, but she’s more like a backup and also our field medic. She’s going into psychology and stuff for school, but she also wants to be a certified emt, it really couldn’t hurt in our town and with what I do.” Danny paused here, seeming to think about the fact he wasn’t home patrolling his Haunt. “Hey Clark, would you mind going for a short fly around the property with me? I need to move a bit.”

“Yeah, sure we can do that.” Clark got up and waited for Danny before making his way down towards the ground. “So you mentioned patrol? What’s up with that? Also do you have any friends you hang out with?” 

Danny started flying in a set route and Clark followed along, curious. “So, you know how I have powers and whatnot, kind of obvious now that we’re actually flying.” Danny and Clark both snorted at this. “So not all things that come through the portal in my basement are good things. I fight whatever comes through and send it back where it came from. Most of the time it’s just animal ghosts that don’t know any better, but there are also ones that know full well what they’re doing and seem to just want to make my life worse. I mean, can’t Skulker lay off me for long enough for me to finish an essay? Honestly.” 

“So, you’re a hero, is what you’re telling me? A vigilante?”  Clark asked, and watched as Danny scanned the horizon for anything weird. Well, at least weird for Danny, which, on second thought, Clark decided he would just pay attention to the child-teen next to him. No need to see things not meant to be seen.

Danny glanced over at Clark, “Yes, though it took a while and some misunderstandings for the town to accept that I’m there to do good. There was an issue with mind control and then the mayor was possessed, it was a whole thing, I’ll go into it later. Anyway,” Danny turned down a path between fields. “So I talked about my parents, a bit about my sister and the basics of ghost stuff, how’s about I talk about my best friends in the whole world?” He smiled at this, a fond wistful thing. 

“So my best friends are Sam and Tucker, and Valerie is getting there. We had a bit of a rough time before she realized I was the ghost boy she wanted to fight. It was a whole thing, but we’ve figured it out. We’ve got a truce going and she’s starting to hang out with us more and trains with us when she can. She’s this badass hunter in a red power suit with a flying surfboard, it’s really awesome. I mean, it wasn’t when she was unknowingly working with my nemesis, but the suit is now tied into her own ecto-signature so he can’t take it back from her now.” 

“So I guess that brings me to my best friends in the whole world, they’ve been with me since before all of this and have stood by me and kept my secret before I told my parents. Tucker is the best hacker that I’ve ever met, and I know a ghost who literally can become electricity. He’s a self-proclaimed carnivore and will not eat veggies unless they’re with an almost equal portion of meat. He’s also the reincarnation of an ancient Pharaoh and will inherit a domain in the GZ when he passes on. He’s been helping out my parents with some of the tech they make and also keeps all our data safe. He also has been working with some people in the GZ to update our tech, specifically stuff for tracking and also medical stuff for ecto-entities. He may hate hospitals, but that doesn’t mean he won’t help when it’s needed.” He paused for a breath here before he basically sighed out, “And then there’s Sam.” His freckles started to glow again when he said her name. 

“Sam is awesome. She’s a vegan and a goth and can and will absolutely beat the afterlife into anyone who messes with any of us. She has some level of powers following an incident that had her possessed for several days, but mostly it’s stuff like enhanced strength and speed, nothing too alarming, and juuuust a touch outside of normal for an athletic human, but she also can take and recover from hits almost on my level. She can talk to plants and grow them very quickly and when needed during a fight she can sprout out vines from the ground to help take out enemies. She’s set to take control of a part of the GZ as well when she dies, just as a princess, but still. She’s really smart and knows all this stuff about mythology and the kinds of things that we end up fighting a lot before the rest of us realize what it is and she’s a great shot too.” Danny seemed more content now than when Clark first came out, and while Danny had been right to warn him about the rambling, he found he really liked it when Danny was talking about the people he loves and things he knows about. 

“So, what other things do you want to do before you go back? You already mentioned karate, did you want to learn anything else?” Clark asked. They started to make their way back to the house since they found nothing along the edges of the property. 

Danny thinks for a moment. Learning new other combat techniques wouldn’t be a bad idea, but he can always learn from masters in the Zone. On one hand, learning politics wouldn’t be a bad  idea, but he has a feeling that it’s probably different in the Zone than in the living world. On the other hand, he was told to treat this time like a vacation, meaning he can just enjoy himself and pursue his hobbies here. 

“Well, I haven’t really had the time to do my hobbies or major interests in the last couple of years, so I guess I could do that. I’m not sure where you are with video games, but I’m sure they’re nowhere near what I’m used to, but building model spaceships and maybe I can try out flight simulators at museums. I’d love to learn to pilot, but right now I have the body of a six year old, so that’s gonna have to wait until I’m bigger. I’ve been a bit interested in the mechanics of things too, my dad’s shown me how to solder computer parts together, so I wouldn’t mind learning about how electronics and engines work. I’ve always wanted to be an astronaut, so I’d have to learn some of that stuff anyway.”

“Oh, one of our neighbors has a small plane he uses for crop dusting and sometimes for fires or rescue things if the police or firefighters need his help. We can see if he’d be willing to take us up sometime! I think there’s an aerospace museum in Metropolis that has a flight simulator, but it’s pretty far away, we’d have to go in winter when we can leave the farm for a day, but I’m sure Ma an’ Pa would take us. I’m sure Pa would be happy to teach you about the engines of the truck and the tractor too, though he might not let you do anything except hand him things until you’re older. As far as video games go, I’m not sure what they’re like there, but we only really have an arcade with some fighting games that are pretty cool. I mean, the Mayor’s kid has a home gaming system, but they’re hard to get around here.” 

“Aw man, I’m gonna end up spending all my allowance at the arcade aren’t I?” Danny groaned as they made their way up the stairs of the house. Clark chuckled, swinging the door open. “But yeah, all that sounds awesome! I hope we can convince your parents to let us do all that stuff.” Danny yawned. “I think it’s time I actually head to bed though. Tiny baby body needs sleep.” Danny floated his way up the stairs, too tired to use his legs and not wanting to wake the Kent parents with the creaky stairs. “Hey, Clark?” Danny asked.

Clark turned back to Danny, about to head to his own room. “Yeah Danny?”

Danny smiled a small smile. “Thanks for listening to me, I think it helped with me being homesick. To, you know, talk about them all. I do wish I could see them and hang out with them all, but I’m glad that I’m here too. For the first time in a while I’m not responsible for anything, I can actually be a kid.”

Clark smiled back at Danny, “Of course, I’ll listen anytime.” He thought for a moment. “You mentioned before about responsibility, you mean the hero thing right?”

Danny nods at first, then tilts his head to the side for a moment. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, it’s not just that. I’m also to be the King of the GZ when I’m old enough.”

Clark’s face drained and he landed hard on his feet. Breathlessly he asked. “King of the GZ? You mean the dimension that connects all the dimensions? You’re going to be King of it all?” 

Danny just nods then sits criss-cross in the air. “Yeah, gimmie a sec, I can make the royal getup appear, you might want to shield your eyes, it’s a bit bright.” Danny called forth his newest transformation, the one that came to be when he agreed to become Crown Prince of the Realms. A bright white light similar to an aurora with static on the edges appeared at his middle and hoarfrost seemed to spiral outwards as the light passed over his body. Left in its wake is medieval looking armor. 

Chainmail that seemed to be made from frost under a breastplate of black metal with his logo etched in silver. A cloak that started as a slippery black faded on the edges to look like the galaxy itself was trailing after him. His bracers were a pale silver and the clothes beneath his armor were a black leather-like material. He had white leather boots that went up to his knees and had the same pale silver metal tipping the toes. Above his head an aurora circled and little flakes of snow would drop into his hair like falling stars. Danny himself changed also, he stayed a six-year-old, but his skin faded to a light blue, his freckles began to glow a bright green as they had earlier. His eyes changed and glowed with a similar green light, and his hair turned white as snow and seemed to float as if in water. His fingertips were a deep navy and clawed, his canines elongated and his ears became pointed. On his finger there appeared to be a ring made of onyx with a gem so bright a blue that it almost hurt to look at, though it didn’t seem to light up the place more than Danny himself.

The most startling thing to Clark however, was not his appearance. “Danny, why don’t you have a heartbeat?” he asked, projecting as much outward calm as he could muster while being twelve and internally freaking out.

Danny seemed confused for a bit before he seemed to realize something. “Oh, right, so right now I’m a ghost, and as a ghost I don’t have a heartbeat, you should be able to hear some sort of almost rhythmic buzzing though, that’s my core, it’s similar to a heart and brain for ghosts.” Clark listened closer and relaxed once he found the buzzing sound. It reminded him of the sounds of a plane engine in the distance.

 “I also completely forgot that I never showed you my ghost form, so one sec, this one’s a lot brighter, I definitely don’t advise looking at this one.” Clark decided to listen this time, as the last time hurt his eyes. 

In a flash of bright white light, Danny appeared once again differently than before. He kept the green eyes, snow-white hair and glowing freckles, but the rest of him looked more like his human form, albeit wearing a black and white full bodysuit. The suit itself was black with the stylized DP logo, white boots, white gloves and a white belt. Danny’s skin was a more healthy tan, though still a bit paler than his human form. 

“So this is my usual ghost form, I’ve been able to change into it since I got my powers and it’s why my parents didn’t know I was who I was at first. It led to a lot of miscommunication and getting grounded even though I was out saving the day. Things have gotten much better since they learned about me and then looked at their research and realized a lot of it was wrong. I’m really proud of them, they looked at all their biased papers they had written over the years and instead of doubling down or letting it ruin them, they instead found a renewed vigor and are learning all they can. They’re releasing paper after paper correcting all the assumptions they had made now that they aren’t blinded by their prejudices.” Danny had a soft smile on his face as his eyes and freckles glowed brighter thinking about his parents. He yawned again. “I think I’ve dropped enough info on you for tonight though, so I’m gonna head to bed. You should too.” Another bright flash and Danny was back to being human, feet firmly on the floor. 

“Yeah, I’ll do that. Sleep well Danny.” Clark appeared to have reached his limit for processing things as he put some dots together. As he lay awake in his bed he realized that Danny is going to be a king to literal gods.

And he thought his math final was stressful.

Part 1 Part 2

[angelosearch]

My little writing progress journal...

Well, today is my first day of class. And Chaos Theory isn't done. I missed the deadline. I spent so many hours writing in the last few weeks, and I still missed the deadline.

One issue is that the more I write, the more there is to write. There are little bits of the story that didn't interest me before that I want to follow the threads of. And, I think, to tie up the end effectively, I'm going to think more about how I will handle part 5. It was just supposed to be four chapters, including the epilogue, but there might be more to it than that.

I've also been stuck writing two very important and action-packed chapters. One might shake out to be 15k words, and I may post it as a spin-off one-shot instead. The other is basically a super long fight scene that I have a lot of cool ideas for. but guys. Figuring out the order of operations in an extended fight is hard. For the first time since I started CT, I wish I could go back to my undergrad and ask my writing professors how to handle this stuff. I know I can figure it out, but it's going to take some time.

And editing! I've been editing stuff like crazy, even the chapters that I was really happy with. I think I've sat with them too long haha.

Lastly, I really put my media blinders on to do all this writing, and so my well has run a little dry. I need to gather some more input to produce compelling output. I also had to step away from CT and write a one-shot for Squall's birthday.

So I posted Chapter 28. I have Chapter 29 written, but it needs to be edited (again). I will hopefully publish it on Friday, but we'll see. Chapter 30 is written and will probably need less editing than 29, but it ends on (maybe) the biggest cliffhanger of CT, so I will want to wait to post it until Chapter 31 is almost done (so the wait between chapters isn't too long).

Chapters 31/32 are a mess (and one of those might become a spin-off). After that, I have a plan for the rest, a few major scenes prepared, and most or all of the last chapter written, plus the epilogue. But I may end up with closer to 40 chapters total.

So... It is going to be hard, but I am determined to balance writing with school/my internship. I will not give up on this project, but updates will definitely slow. And don't be surprised if I write more one-shots and/or finish A Sorceress Awakens before I complete CT, because they will be probably be easier to write when I only have a little time.

As always, I will keep reporting my progress here. For those of you who are on the Chaos Theory train, thank you for reading and your patience and support! I hope you don't mind bearing with me while I take my time landing this plane.

Feel free to bully me in my ask box if I don't talk about CT for a while!! I am unfortunately prone to getting distracted when projects are close to done, but I am also a people pleaser and very responsive to stuff like that, haha.