#part two (three chapters)

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One / Part Two (You are Here) / Part Three 

A03

Hopper had undersold Harrington's condition. 

Wayne hadn't expected anything pretty, but the face that turned to them as they walked through the door almost had him freezing in place. 

Black eye, bruised chin, split lip. 

More and more bruises, some faded and some very new, trailing down the kids neck. 

 The rest was hidden by his preppy little polo shirt, but Wayne didn't doubt that there were more.

Harrington tried to stand when they entered the room and the way he moved--entirely unbalanced, clearly in a lot of pain--made Wayne think the only thing the kid really needed was a hospital. 

Because Steve Harrington hadn't just been beaten. 

He'd been tortured--and very recently strangled. 

(Abruptly, Wayne realized that Hopper had implied the boy had been in the mall fire--just as much as he implied the mall fire was anything but. 

He also hadn't stated how Harrington had escaped the Suites trying to break into his house.) 

"Sit down." Hopper commanded, and Wayne expected Harrington to do anything but listen. 

Say something cocky, or act the part of a demanding little shit maybe, despite the condition he was in.

Instead the kid just sighed in relief and dropped like a stone, right back into the chair. 

Hopper came around his desk, talking all the while. "Steve, this is Wayne. Wayne, Steve."

"Hello Sir." Steve croaked politely. His voice was wrecked, no doubt from the necklace of finger shaped bruises around his neck.

"You're going to stay with him for a while, and you're gonna pay him for the privilege." Hopper informed him, as he began digging around his desk. "Money, chores, whatever Wayne wants." 

Wayne held his gaze as Steve turned to appraise him. 

Would Harrington pitch a fit? 

Would he look at Wayne's work clothes, streaked with dirt and sweat, with the name of the warehouse embroidered in the corner and crinkle up his nose, just like his daddy did? 

Hopper didn't lie, but a part of Wayne wanted to see just how different this Harrington was. If the respectful demeanor was an act done for Hopper. 

Or perhaps, Hopper had mentioned Steve's father for a reason, instead of his mother. Did he adopt her ice-like approach to life? 

Micro managing and long-held grudges were Stella Harrington’s game, and she excelled at it. 

Steve however, did nothing of the sort, instead settling with the situation in a way that reminded Wayne far too strongly of the men and women who'd come home from war.

"Okay." The kid said simply, after a long moment of consideration. He turned back to Hopper. "But we need to tell the rest of the Par--" 

Here he cut a look back to Wayne, correcting himself. "the kids. I don't want them showing up at my house trying to find me and freaking out." 

"They wouldn't--" Jim paused, fingers freezing from the rummaging they'd been doing. "they absolutely would, goddammit." He muttered darkly.  

"I'll tell the kids. The only thing I want you doing right now is laying low. I need to get a hold of Owens, but it's gonna take time to do that, and more time to fix this, so as of right now, Harrington? You're on vacation." He pointed sternly, as if Steve might argue.

The kid looked too tired and messed up to bother trying. 

"I mean it. You're out of the country, where is anybody's guess. No one's seen you and no one better be seeing you, got it?" His voice held firm, and Wayne had to blink because the tone here wasn't one of a police chief warning a teenager--but of a father talking to his son.

He knew, because his own voice did that now. Took on a worried tone that masqueraded as something more like annoyance and seriousness. 

"Yes, Sir." Harrington said, remaining weirdly compliant. "Consider me gone." 

A hand came up to briefly press above one eye, and Wayne wondered if the kid had been looked over, or if they had just crammed him into Hopper's office without offering so much as a tissue box. 

How many painkillers did they have back at the house? Wayne usually kept a good bottle around, but Steve was going to need more than that…

He found himself once again cataloging Steve's wounds, this time comparing them to the medicine cabinet he had at home. 

"I expect you to be a damn good house guest, you hear me?" Hopper continued, trying to cut a menacing figure. He finally found what he was looking for; pulling out a large, padded envelope. 

He handed it over to Harrington, who took it without looking, shoving it into the duffle bag he'd had sitting at his feet. 

There was a smudge of red on the handle of said bag, that matched perfectly up to a shittily done wrap on Steve's right hand. 

Wayne mentally added 'buy more bandages' to his list. 

Steve nodded at Hopper again. "Yes, Sir."

Jim’s eyes narrowed. "Quite that, you know I hate that." 

The briefest glimmer of mischief crossed Harrington's face. "Sorry, Sir. Won't happen again, Sir."

'Ahh.' Wayne thought. 'So there's a teenager in there after all.'

Jim rolled his eyes. "Get out of my office."

"Thanks Hop." Harrington said, finally dropping that odd obedience, a hint of a smile on his battered face. 

He stood, and Wayne had to stop himself from offering an arm out as Steve reached for his bag and limped towards him. 

He paused right before he left Hopper's office, hand on the doorframe.

 "You'll check up on Robin too, right?"  He asked, and for the first time his tone took on something more alive--and filled with worry. "And Dustin? Erica?" 

"Dustin and his mom are finally taking me up on my suggestion to see their family in Florida for a while, and the Sinclairs are taking a sabbatical from Hawkins. I'm working on the Buckley's." Hopper drummed his fingers on the desk. "So far, no one else besides you and El have been targeted, and we're going to keep it that way."

Steve let out a breath, and while Wayne could tell the worry hadn't left him, he could almost physically see Steve force himself to put it away.

Another act that was far beyond the kid's years. 

A different officer popped up as they walked down the hall towards the exit, waving his hand madly. "Harrington! Chief says you forgot this!" He barked.

(Or tried to anyway. Callahan wasn’t the most aggressive of officers and frankly, never would be.)

A slim sports bag was held in his hands, and Steve nearly tripped over his own feet when he tried to turn and claim it.

"I'll get it." Wayne said, knowing his tone sounded gruff.

No use for it. He could either sound gruff or sound sad, and Wayne knew better than to start off the relationship with yet another hurt young man by acting sad.

Pity wasn't gonna win him any favors here. 

He took the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, uncaring of the wince on Harrington's face until something sharp poked at his shoulder. 

Several somethings, in fact. 

"What the hell do you got in this thing?" He asked once they hit the parking lot, voice low as he escorted Steve to his truck. 

"Just a baseball bat, sir." Steve said, in the exact same tone Eddie used every time he thought he was bein’ slick. 

Considering the thing in the bag could have passed for a baseball bat if not for the sharp pokey bits, it wasn’t a bad attempt. Steve just hadn’t accounted for the fact that Wayne lived with Eddie. 

An unfair advantage, really. 

‘Least there can’t be any baby racoons in the damn bag.’ Wayne thought idly. 

Went on to gently put the bat in the backseat, watching as the kid struggled to lift himself into the truck.

"You can drop that, I take too being called Sir about as well as Hop does." He said, keeping his tone nice and calm, hoping to ease into calling Steve out on his lie. 

Fussed with a few dials on the stereo, giving Steve an excuse to take his time before starting the engine and taking the long way home.

Wayne wanted to talk a little-- without the chance of Ed’s interrupting. 

"Son,” He started off. “I was born in the morning, but not this morning. I'm hoping to make the next few weeks as easy as I can for both of us, and I can't do that if you're starting off with a lie." 

Steve blinked, turning to face him in a matter that was too fast for his injuries. He didn't bother hiding the hurt it caused him, but his voice stayed even as he spoke.

 "What do you mean Si--Wayne." 

"Nice catch.”  Wayne said. “We’ll get you there yet.” 

It was a trick he'd learned with Eddie--little tidbits of praise went a long way when it came to gaining trust.

Especially with kids who hadn't ever been given much. 

Harrington seemed smart to it, or perhaps was just hesitant to speak in general because he remained quiet, not offering up any info. No further lies, but nothing towards the truth, neither. 

Which was fine. Wayne didn’t think a little pushing would hurt.

"That bat of yours was digging into my shoulder like a bee swarm." Wayne continued, when it became clear Steve wasn't talking. "I'm more a fan of football than baseball, but last I checked they hadn't changed the design of a bat." 

"What teams?" Steve asked, perking up a touch. "Of football. Which ones are yours?"

Wayne could ignore it of course, or demand Steve give him an answer to the question he asked. 

He did neither. "I’m liking the Colts since they got moved here. You?" 

"Green Bay Packers, though I like the Colts too--that trade in 84’ was crazy." Steve said. After a second he proved that answering instead of pushing was the right move because he added; "What did Hopper tell you? About…" He trailed off, making a gesture Wayne didn't bother trying to interpret. 

"He said some things. I've guessed a few others." Wayne admitted. Cut a little look out of the corner of his eye as he came to a stop sign. "I know the feds are real interested in you after Starcourt." 

Steve took that in, hands tightening on the handle. 

"It really is a baseball bat." He said, a little fast and with the tiniest hint of that challenge Wayne had been looking for. "It just also has nails hammered into one end." 

Wayne took that in with one nice, slow blink. 

"A bat with nails in it." He said, and it made a hell of a lot of sense compared to the sensation he'd felt carrying the case. "You use it against anyone?" 

"Some of the feds." Steve admitted, and even with his eyes on the road Wayne could tell he was being stared at.

Judged.

Not in the way one expected a rich kid to judge, but in the way Eddie had, those first few months he'd lived here. The times when  he'd push, just a little, to see what Wayne's reaction would be. 

Eddie hadn't done it in a damn long time, but Wayne recognized the behavior nonetheless. 

"Anybody else?" He asked. 

"Nobody human." Steve replied. 

"Alright." Wayne said, and made a mental note to drop all questions related to that. 

He didn't need to know, definitely didn't want to know, and had a feeling if he did know he'd find himself being watched by the same spooks after Steve.

"I've got a few deck boxes that lock on my porch. Think you'd be agreeable to leaving the bat in one?" 

Steve paused, hand clenching tighter around the strap of his duffel bag. "If you gave me a key so I could get it in an emergency,  I'd be happy to." 

He tried to sound calm, even a little charming in that sort of upper-class businessman sort of way, but the fear bled through. 

The kid wasn't happy separating from the bat, and given it sounded like it might have saved his life recently, Wayne understood the hesitation. 

With an internal apology to Eddie, he promptly threw his nephew under the proverbial bus.  "I've got my nephew at home and he'd be far too interested in it, is all. Blades and weapons and such tend to attract him, and I don't need to be rushing anyone to the ER." 

All of which were very true facts (one Wayne learned the time he'd allowed Eddie to bring a sword  home, only for him to nearly cut his own nose off winging the thing around) but he figured it might make Steve more amenable to separating from it. 

Sure enough, some of the tenseness bled out of Steve's shoulders. "Yeah that's fair." 

The truck hit a few potholes as they finally turned into the trailer park, and the kid hissed, a quiet sound. 

Judging by the uncomfortable wince, and hands clenched into his jeans something painwise was giving him trouble. 

"When was the last time you took a pain pill?" Wayne asked, doing his best to weave around the other holes that dotted the gravel roads.

Steve blinked. "Uh…" 

"You take any today son?" 

Steve his head. 

"Didn't have time to grab it." He said, offering a sad look to his pack. 

Course he hadn't. 

"Let's get you inside then and get you some." Wayne said with a sigh. Thankfully Eddie's van wasn't here--Wayne was fairly certain he had band practice today but knowing him it could be a million other things.

Just meant he had to acclimate Steve as fast as he could, to try and get the poor guy settled before Ed’s came in. 

He just hoped life and lady luck would work with him, for once. 

[greenleaf4stuff]

In Convenience - Chapter 3, part 3

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience" and "In Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage to marriage of love AU, post story snippet 3, part 3. Adar and Celebrimbor finally share another meal in Adar’s camp, curtesy of Adar's children. While there is still much they cannot predict, they do so with a much different outlook towards the future now than they did during the negotiations.

(I wrote chapter 3 while listening to Whirling-In-Rags 8 AM and 12 PM from the Disco Elysium OST. Final edit on the last paragraphs of 3.3 was done listening to the track The Cryptozoologist’s from same soundtrack.) The two finally have some peace and quiet for themselves, and good meal! Of course I couldn't help to include some plot as well.

"But...Gil-Galad and the others in Eregion-" Celebrimbor tried to argue. Gurlak shook her head.

"Don’t you worry about it. I sent some messengers over – gave them good sun protection and all – to tell your fancy king that you both are sadly dealing with an urgent matter here that cannot be postponed, and to not wait for you. Or something like that, I think," she shrugged. "And well, it’s not quite a lie if we ask you to sit down and eat together, is it?"

"That is quite the frivolous use of our time-" the leader of the uruk made his own attempt, but this time it was Glûg who cut him off.

"Eating is hardly frivolous," he replied. "And perhaps we worry, Lord Father."

Ah, Celebrimbor thought. They had obviously found time to anticipate and discuss their possible reactions. The reasoning they used was certainly quite effective.

The smith found himself stunned speechless. Judging by Adar’s silence, the other was dealing with a similar predicament. They glanced at each other in question – on the one hand, they had their responsibilities, important ones at that, and on the other, hadn’t they hoped and wished for a chance to share a meal among just the two of them again all day?

The elf was the first to crack; he prospect of having a few quiet hours that he might share with Adar lit up his face in joy. He could see Adar watch him, and then visibly soften in response. Something silent passed between them, an understanding, before they turned back to the group of uruk that was waiting for their judgement with bated breath.

"Thank you, Gurlak, and you, Glûg," Adar began, and then did in fact thank every single one of the uruk before him while calling them by their given names, like a father whose children had given him an unexpected gift, serious and appreciative. The elf supposed the metaphor was more literal than figurative.

Celebrimbor also went to express his gratitude the group. They had inclined their heads and bowed to Adar as their leader thanked them. Seeing them do similarly towards him, starting with Gurlak and Glûg, was still a very new development.

The elf would never have demanded it, but at times, they insisted. Not that he didn’t appreciate the thought behind the gesture, but he hoped with time, they would speak to him as Ost-In-Edhil’s citizens did, instead.

Gurlak once again slapped his shoulder as he thanked her, though thankfully not as...enthusiastically as she had done in the forge. He could still feel the strength of her claps rattle his body.

"It’s no problem – anything for the Lord Father and his husband," and then she ushered them into the tent with clear delight. "Now shoo. We asked you to fulfill a task, and you don’t want the food to get cold, do you?"

Celebrimbor could feel his cheeks and eyes crinkle as he smiled back at her, and lifted his hands in mock surrender as he stepped back to where she had directed him.

Adar himself merely nodded, and went to walk into the tent as well, making it look as if he were herding the smith in front of him for a few steps before Celebrimbor turned around.

The tentflap fell closed behind them, and suddenly, it was quiet. They were alone.

Once more, the two looked at each other.

"Well. I did not expect that," the elf admitted, but his expression gave away how happy this new development made him. "What a lovely gift from your children."

"A gift it is indeed," the uruk agreed. "I suspect this is the reason why they secretly opened and re-opened the knotted cords on the sun tarps as we worked on those, earlier. They needed more time."

The elf laughed and shook his head. "Most likely. I feared they were merely trying to play a trick on us. This is certainly much more welcome as an explanation."

The uruk nodded. "They surely would not have dared to annoy us thusly," a pause. "I hope." His lip was quirked up at one corner.

The two chuckled at his words, and then Adar moved forward and pulled out a chair as he motioned for Celebrimbor to come and sit at the table. The elf let himself be helped as he sat down and the uruk pushed the chair back into its original position. The mood between them was light, the courteous gesture of Adar’s half in jest, half serious.

He also ended up pouring the smith his drink, though that had been something he had already started doing when the two of them first met, during their time as a strictly political couple.

As Adar sat down, he motioned towards Celebrimbor. "Apologies, I am afraid tea is out of the question. Maybe I can ask your kitchens to provide us with some." He did not look as if this bothered him much, but the elf appreciated the thought. "Please, eat. Gurlak was right; we both could use some sustenance."

"Much agreed." Celebrimbor nodded, and reached for his favored food – the baked potatoes – with another bright smile. He caught Adar grinning and lightly shaking his head in response.

The Lord of Eregion found himself surprised just how much he had actually missed sharing a meal with Adar just like this. And how alike their current supper felt to the ones they’d had all those weeks ago, when negotations had still taken place in the camp, and not yet in Ost-In-Edhil.

One difference, and a very welcome one at that, was the lack of danger, however. Back then, Adar had often appeared both as if he was being hunted, and as a hunter himself; eyes sharp, the task at hand always at the back of his mind, he usually came to eat before and after he had done his rounds surveying his troops and their progress, and only fully untensed once he had spent some time in Celebrimbor's company. 

Now, he only looked a little weary, but that was to be expected with everything that was going on outside their tent. Thankfully, the lack of interruptions seemed to restore his usual, resolute manner quite efficiently.

Celebrimbor considered his husband as he thought this, and soon found himself at the other end of a pair of eyes that was watching him in turn. This, too, felt reminiscent of their previous meals.

"What are you thinking?" the uruk asked, tone fond, as he tilted his head. Undoutably, the elf’s musings must reflect in his face. "It surely must be something good, the way you are looking at me."

"It is," the smith confirmed, and took a sip of his drink. "I was just thinking how glad I am to see you at such ease. Back during our other meals, you still seemed to expect a battle to come about, especially after tougher negotiations. I see none of that strain now. Peace suits you well."

The other stilled at Celebrimbor’s words, seemed to mull them over as he chewed his current bite and also took a drink. The elf patiently let him prepare his answer.

"I am glad to hear it," the other finally admitted. He spoke slowly, weighing every word, and his tone was contemplative. "I am...unused to it, truth be told. The uncertainty of what lies ahead unnerves me greatly."

It said a lot that he spoke these thoughts aloud at all, about how far the two of them had come. Adar was used to making his own choices; he’d told Celebrimbor as much, and the elf had witnessed it as well. Him confiding in Celebrimbor, his trust in the other, would always be as precious as a rare gem.

"I understand. Or, well. At least I think I do," the elf replied. "I am not in the same position as you, but I can imagine that it would be difficult, to go from not having a home, needing to fight for your survival and facing danger at every corner to...this. A place to stay for your children, and allies by your side – friends. The hope for a future without any more bloodshed."

The uruk nodded, and leant back in his improvised throne. "I have had to protect my children for so long, I can barely reconcile my memories of the time before they existed with the feeling that the elder days were merely a dream, or a fantasy. My care for the uruk has made me hone skills that are more suited for times of war. I can lead them, I can give them a purpose, I can encourage them," he briefly paused, and stared into his cup.

"Now, they require a different set of abilities to set up a home, grow roots, and take care of themselves. It is leaving me...restless, not knowing how exactly I should help or direct them."

Celebrimbor nodded, and thought on the matter for a moment before he gave his own, slow reply. "Back when Ost-In-Edhil was in its infancy, I too was overwhelmed with the responsibility, the sheer magnitude of what I would be attempting. My family might have consisted of rulers and kings, but I myself had never lead or ruled a place of my own. Nor did I want to repeat the mistakes of my father or grandfather."

Adar knew of his family line, though they had only spoken about it a little. Celebrimbor had accepted much of what had happened, and what was part of his grandfather’s and father’s legacy, though he was never fully free of it. Perhaps where he had been able to shed some of his own past, Adar might yet do the same.

"It was challenging, and I made mistakes, but – I learned what I needed, and trusted my future subjects to guide me where I struggled. I built the city together with them, in a sense. I was not a born ruler, no matter what my heritage may suggest, and was not always sure I would be a good one, but I had people I trusted who taught me. And eventually, I succeeded in most things, at least," his grin was sheepish. "Though some I do still struggle with till today, if I am being honest."

He tilted his head, and felt his face soften. "I suppose what I want to say is...you learned and remade yourself before, after you first killed him, you can do it again. I can help you, and your children will help you too, if you let them," a jerk of his head towards the tentflap. "Judging by Glûg’s eagerness to become your steward, and what he, Gurlak and the others did today, they do want to help you."

Adar beheld him with a loud hum. "You certainly learned how to give inspirational speeches, that is for certain."

The elf shrugged self-deprecatingly. "Can’t help it, I am afraid. I have to give a lot of those," he propped up his chin on his hand. "Though, I think you also have knack for it. If you refine that skill to apply it to matters not related to war, our speeches might soon become indistinguishable."

He raised up an eyebrow and grinned, almsot as if in challenge.

The uruk huffed a quiet laugh in response and shook his head, staring down, before his eyes returned to Celebrimbor. He looked lighter already, much like he had after their conversation about the robes. It confirmed to the elf that Adar did indeed still struggle to redefine himself, and likely would for quite some time to come.

He was just as determined to help his husband in this matter as he had been with the other one.

When Adar spoke again, his tone was warm. "You were right, Tyelpe. It does help to speak about these concerns with you," he bent forward, stood up from his throne, and walked around to Celebrimbor’s side. There, he stood next to the armrest of the elf’s chair, and wrapped his arm around the the smith’s shoulder.

As Celebrimbor turned his head upwards, the uruk bent down and pressed a kiss to his temple, slow and reverent. "I am thankful, that I have found one such as you. And all through mere chance."

The elf let his husband raise himself up to his full height again, then grasped the hand on his shoulder, squeezing the uruk’s fingers before linking them together with his own. He delighted in the feel of Adar’s braided ring against his digits, and leant his head back against the other’s arm as he continued to look up at his husband.

"As am I. I rest easier, knowing we shall see this new age come about together. And, perhaps, even be fortunate enough to shape it for the better."

They already had, in a sense, by killing Sauron. But that had been the, well. Not easier part, but comparatively, the quicker one. Peace would be and remain a continuous effort for all involved, but it was a worthwhile endeavour, and something he was looking forward to not just achieving, but upholding.

The uruk’s answering smile was small, and soft. "I suppose I will learn, just as you did. Guiding, instead of only guarding. Helping, and being helped. Will you...would you be willing to teach me?"

For the second time that day, the elf’s face lit up. Though this time, his smile was gentler, and he held onto his husband’s hand more tightly as he answered. "I would be very honored to do so. Yes, yes I will."

His words made the smile on Adar’s face grow wider. The uruk nodded in thanks, and then sat on the armrest of Celebrimbor’s chair. The smith steadied him with a limb around his husband’s middle, while Adar wrapped his own arm fully around Celebrimbor’s shoulders.

They looked at each other adoringly for a good, long while, until Adar bent forward and placed a very gentle, long kiss onto the elf’s forehead, his hair falling around them like a curtain. Celebrimbor gladly bent his head backwards and let himself be cherished with the touch. He stroked his hand up and down Adar’s side in response.

His free hand found its way onto Adar’s leg, where the uruk’s counterpart found it and brought their fingers together once more.

This, too, was different from their previous meals; the ability not just to look, but to touch as well. A welcome change it was – a reminder that not just uncertainty and challenges lay ahead, but good things as well. Hopefully, this would be just one positive change of many.

[emily-mooon]

Nancy Wheeler the shoujo manga protagonist you are what with your love triangle and everything about you my pookie <3

[yan-fairy]

reading alberose fanfiction from albedo’s perspective is literally just going, “oh my god he’s so in love” every five seconds.

[voiceofthelionhearted]

ohhhh i just had a genius idea for smitten in my fic >:)

[thedemonscrawler]

for a writer im really bad at putting my thoughts into words

[atlasdoe]

my roman empire is The Marauders Series by Pengiwen on wattpad.

nobody can convince me that tms isn't the best cannon compliant marauders fic out there. i could talk about it all day

[m1ckeyb3rry]

realizing how long PART ONE ALONE of this nonsense is going to be

[crescynnt]

Tomorrow. 👀

Mission.

The Dark Lord.

Destroy.

The Chosen One.

. . .

Then why couldn’t he find the body?

. . .

Wanted. The Chosen One.

Pictures of a black hollow headed stick with fire powers populated the page.

The Chosen One.

The same one he had to destroy.

. . .

But he wouldn’t stop. He would find Dark before he allowed himself to rest.

. . .

Bzzt.

The disintegrating bodies of three sticks lay around him. Dark was stalking towards a fourth, a bright orange stick. Without hesitation, his blade stabbed through the orange stick from behind.

A stick the traitor had gone to for help.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1 of my Amnesiac!Dark fic (Let Me Save You Again) officially drops tomorrow! And for easier reading, it'll also be on AO3 (will reblog with link once it's out).

Now let's hope I'm satisfied after one last round of revision

[reading-writing-dying]

Finished editing next chapter of the Hotguy/Cuteguy Love-square fic, now the question is do I post now or wait until my original planned date of Friday/Saturday?

[stygiansauce]

CRAZY PROGRESS TODAY!!!!!!!!!!!

[kindlythevoid]

Any Rewind updates coming soon? 👀

If I was a very lucky person. I'd say we might see one as soon as this Friday.

But then. It may not be a very good chapter, and it may actually be a part one of a chapter.

But if it is finished, and edited, and the people want the not-very-good chapter...

Then perhaps. Perhaps we will have one on Friday.

Kindly,

The Void

[britishsass]

The Three Adventurers come across a small cabin in the forest after a long day of walking. Graham and Link are happy to see someone willing to help, but Guybrush is suspicious.

Things are definitely not what they seem in this forest, and when his friends mysteriously disappear in the night, that’s what Guybrush is out to prove.

(A dramatic little fic to celebrate the 10th anniversary of @threeadventurers ! Congrats for such an incredible feat, and I sincerely hope that this one chapter is still a nice gift for the occasion :3)

[novelconcepts]

The fact that this one bonus chapter will likely take the same amount of time to write as the entire 12-chapter 110k monstrosity that preceded it is...the most writerly shit I can think of, actually, carry on.

[acaciapines]

i....just finished my huge editing pass on my owl house daemon au. yall what the hell. no its not DONE i'll for sure do more editing as i start posting it, but...all my major edits, those are DONE, those are THROUGH, and...

all that's left to do is 100% confirm that my owl house daemon au, and a grove of palistrom to you, will start posting on june 19th! i cannot BELIEVE i've come this far, you guys....the 19th will be this fic's two year anniversary. and now it'll be slowly released into the wild, one chapter out of like 150+ at a time.

it's, uh, gonna be a year! or two! i hope to see you there! this beast has been my life for so long and im SO excited to start sharing these scenes that have been trapped in my head.

[thebiggestfuckgiven]

Chapter 6 of HIDBV is up!!! i can't believe we're finally at this point!

make sure to read the warnings in the notes before you start reading, and most importantly, enjoy :>