#trying to get the posts I made about Ch 5 out before Ch 6

[pinkrose787]

I really want to go into the character motivations for each character in Chapter 5 of the Amnesia Branch AU. So I am going to go in depth. Characters are in no particular order. (Readmore, because this is so very long).

Poppy- Hers is the most obvious. Mostly, because we see the entire chapter through her POV. She wants to be there for Branch. More importantly, she wants to help Branch in ways that she couldn't the last time he was gray. Now, she has such a deeper understanding of why he is the way he is, and what he needs.

While she is doing her best to be there for Branch, she herself is struggling immensely. She's heartbroken that Branch doesn't remember their relationship. That he's closed off from her again.

She doesn't really let anyone know how much she's struggling. Sure, Viva and her closest friends saw that she was sad in Chapter 3, but they didn't see depths of her sadness. And she tries so hard to keep it together this entire chapter.

She pushes away every single negative thought and emotion that comes up. Forcing herself to be the happy and cheerful despite how she truly feels.

That is until the very end. Branch has broken up with her. Every single bit of sadness that Poppy had been holding back comes crashing down on her.

Branch's Brothers- As a base, all of them of in pure shock of what they just witnessed. Up to this point, they have only heard stories of what Branch used to be like. Seeing Branch gray for themselves was eye-opening.

Bruce- I think, because he is a father, he really carries a lot of guilt about Branch becoming depressed at such a young age and having to raise himself. He constantly has thoughts about how different Branch's life would have been if he came back in time.

And because of this guilt, he is terrified of ever hurting Branch ever again. So when Branch broke down after Bruce said the very wrong thing, it sent Bruce into a spiral of guilt. The guilt and terror combined caused him to believe that Branch is genuinely better off without any of them.

In his mind, Branch has Poppy and loads of friends to support him. People who haven't hurt Branch like they have. Who won't stir up tears as soon as he sees them. Who can help him far better than Bruce ever could.

Clay- Now, Clay did not talk that much in this chapter. Like Bruce, his guilt made him think that Branch doesn't need him. Though his guilt is a bit different than Bruce's. Unlike all the others, Clay stayed in the Troll Tree up until the time of the escape. The fact that he could have gone back anytime to check-up on Branch but didn't, haunts him.

While his "the Putt Putt trolls needed me" comment wasn't immediately addressed by Branch, it was what Branch was referring to when he shouted "I needed you!".

He wasn't as eager to leave as Bruce was. In fact, if Bruce hadn't said that he didn't think they should be there for Branch, I think he would have stayed or at least waited to say what he thought until later.

John Dory- The guilt manifests differently for John Dory. He has come to terms with it. In fact, he came to terms with a lot of it before the events of TBT. When he came back to the Troll Tree and saw it completely barren, he thought that all his brothers had died. The worst of it for him was Branch.

In his mind, Branch was still a baby, and when John Dory returned he still would have been a young child. While there was a chance that the others got out, which he learned when Bruce sent that postcard, he didn't have the same hopes for Branch.

His brothers were athletic teenagers. The odds of them surviving was high. But Branch was a little kid who lived alone with an old woman in a town of giants who want to eat them. They'd probably be first

And John Dory carried this guilt for years upon years. Until, he heard about what happened with the Rockapocalypse. He was so relieved to hear that Branch survived. But then more guilt set in.

Guilt that he didn't know. Branch is in his twenties now. He missed out on his baby brother's entire life. In his mind, Branch clearly turned out fine without him if he stopped the literal apocalypse, and he didn't want to ruin that for him.

It wasn't until he had to save Floyd, that he decided to initiate any sort of contact.

He genuinely enjoyed having Branch around again. But for most of the movie, he still believed that Branch is far better off without him. That all the brothers being apart was better.

It wasn't until the fight in Rhonda that he realized he might be wrong. That was the first time he truly saw how much leaving had hurt Branch, and how his life might not have been as great as he thought it was.

He doesn't want to hurt Branch like that ever again. After the whole reunion leaving didn't even cross his mind as an option. He's going to be there for Branch whether Branch wants him to or not.

Floyd- Similar to John Dory, Floyd did come eventually come back. Seeing the dead Troll Tree was completely devastating to him. He went gray over it.

The memory of him promising Branch that he would be back kept replaying over and over in his mind. He agonized over and over again about how he failed to keep his promise. He never came back. Branch died waiting for him.

Unlike John Dory, he didn't hear about how Branch was still alive nor did he know if any of his other brothers were alive either. It wasn't until John Dory came to save him that had any hope of Branch still being alive.

And the joy and relief he felt when he finally saw Branch was unlike anything else. In that brief moment, he swore that if he survived that he was never going to leave Branch again. This time he intends to keep that promise.

Branch- The reunion with his brothers severely messed him up. It really reignited his abandonment issues. He truly believed that they wouldn't stay. That they'd leave him again, so him pushing them away was to spare himself the heartbreak of getting close to them again just for them to leave.

Hearing from Poppy that Bruce and Clay left, though devastating, wasn't surprising. He really didn't have any faith that they would stay. Though he is surprised that both John Dory and Floyd didn't immediately leave, he's still convinced that they will soon. It will just take a little longer for them to go.

And it's been touched on in earlier chapters, but he does believe that Poppy is going to leave him too. That any moment she's going to decide that she's done with him and leave.

The worst part is that he believes that he deserves it. In his perspective, he's been dating Poppy for about 2 days. And during those two days, he's seen her act in a way that she never has before. Mostly, he's never seen her sad, and he's never heard her scream in anger like she did in the hallway.

He thinks that cutting off his relationship with her will end her pain. Which is so very incredibly wrong, but he's unable to see that.

[deandoesthingstome]

Hall Pass - Masterlist - Complete

Paring: Henry Cavill x Reader (RPF) NO MINORS!!! (Please do not read or interact if a) you are a minor or b) this isn't your thing. Nothing against you, as I hope you hold nothing against me for this.)

Series Summary: You run into Henry Cavill at the start of a two-week house-sitting vacation. You had some previous plans. Some were ruined by your now ex-boyfriend. Some were made better. Guess by whom? See also: this ask

Series Warnings: I’ll be honest, this whole thing is just self-indulgent smutty fluff. Here’s what I offer: meeting, making out, and having sex with Henry Cavill (rpf). I’m probably NOT going to be adding chapter warnings unless I get a bug to re-write and something worms it’s way into the story that I wasn’t expecting.

A/N: I edited this teaser post to act as the masterlist for this story and so I could take the novel out of the remaining chapters. ;)

A/N 2: I started this story shortly after the fiasco of The Witcher and Superman announcements. I thought about how great it would be to try and cheer him up a little. For the purposes of this story, he is single. No hate to anyone in his life right now, in whatever way you imagine that to be. I also understand if you do not read rpf. Feel free to scroll on by. I don’t need to hear about it.

This was going to be a looooong one-shot, but solicited feedback prompted me to break it up for you. 

Playlist: I will add to Spotify with each chapter.

Word Count: 15K over 4 5 chapters (if you were here before, it said 12K; what can I tell you?)

Posting Schedule: Based on the responses to this post, I decided on a series instead of single post. Every Tuesday and Thursday at 6 am Eastern time, starting February 14th.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Epilogue

Tag Info Below the Cut (I have not updated this original detail at all; if you are on the current tags for Ch 1 and 2 you will be tagged in the rest, as well as if you've asked after the fact.)

Current Tag Lists: Please let me know if you want on or off. @liveoncoffeeandflowersss I moved you off Other Stories as I assume from our chat about "horse boy Henry shit" you want in on this.

Anything - If you are on Anything and I don't hear from you, I'll assume you DO want the tag: @sillyrabbit81 @kittenofdoomage @mayloma @kebabgirl67 @fvckinghenrycavill @beck07990 @mysweetlittledesire @itsrubberbisquit @feelmyroarrrr

Other Stories - If you are on the Other Stories taglist for my other stories and I don't hear from you, I'll assume you DON'T want a tag for this: @angelcavill66 @lizzystuffsthings @augustsprincess @alexakeyloveloki @enchantedbytomandhenry @kingliam2019

@henryownsme @littlefreya @marantha @angelcavill66 @sweetdreamsofgelato @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @greensleeves888 @dinoswierdmom @geralts-yenn @wabi-sabi1090 @bourbonwithice

[thenextdawn-temporarilyclosed]

One of Your Kind (Ch. 7)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10

Word count: 4.2K

Summary: your birthday party gets ruined and so does the last month of filming. What else could go wrong?

Warnings: swearing, mentions of past trauma

Pairing: Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader

———

March 2022

Well, you and Jenna had finally established your relationship and the two of you had the most perfect of relationships. You had recovered well from the gunshot but Jenna always made sure you didn’t overwork yourself even if now you could do everything like you used to before. Jenna always wore the necklace you got her, and even posted it on instagram. The two of you didn’t make your relationship public and you hadn’t even talked about it yet, you just wanted to let it flow naturally and see where it led you. Until She was filming, you were sure that your relationship was gonna stay private, because Jenna didn’t have time for interviews and paparazzi weren’t around, even though there were a couple articles from when you and her were seen together at the airport, but no one really thought anything of it because knowing that you were her director they thought it was a business trip.

Your birthday was approaching. It had been years since you last celebrated it, you just spent it like a normal days. You didn’t usually hear happy birthday songs, you didn’t receive any gift and you liked it like this. You weren’t one for attentions which is why you didn’t say anything about your birthday to the people on set, except for Jenna and you specifically told her that you wanted no gift, you didn’t want to celebrate it because you had been doing it like this since forever… which is exactly what led Jenna to set up a surprise party for you. “Okay, so what we’re gonna do is, the local is all set up and we just need to-“ Jenna’s speech was interrupted by Emma telling her to shut up as you were there. You walked over to Jenna and wrapped your arms around her from behind. “Good evening Jen” you said and kissed her cheek, you hadn’t seen her all morning but just holding her was enough for you. “Hey you” she said and turned around in your arms, putting her own around your shoulder. She knew better than to wish you happy birthday in front of everyone else.

Emma and the others left to give the two of you some privacy, and You just smiled at her and moved a few hair out of her face. “You look gorgeous as always” you told her as you just snuggled in to hide your face in the crook of her neck. She giggled and held you close, kissing your forehead. “What’s up with the compliments today?” She asked as you looked up at her, with a shrug and a loving smile. “Am I not allowed to compliment my girlfriend?” You said and kissed her jaw softly. You were the kind of girl that loved physical contact and lucky for you, Jenna was the same. She giggled again “you’re very cuddly too” she said and brushed her own nose with yours. “Mhhh yes. It’s my birthday and I want to spend it with you” Jenna smiled and cuddled with you until it was tine to ger back on set. She loved this side of you and she was glad you were slowly opening up yourself more, you were completely yourself only around her and she couldn’t be happier.

That day, you’d always find a moment to at least hug her or steal her a kiss between a scene and the other. “Why don’t we go out for dinner tonight? At least we can spend some more quality time together” she said as you were setting up for her next scene “that sounds really nice” you said and smiled at her. Good, Jenna thought, at least she had convinced you to go out for dinner, so that the surprise party could actually happen. She told you to dress up nicely as she had something “cute” planned, and you were really, really curious. As the car approached the local you couldn’t help but try and push on the subject “oh come on! Just a little hint?” You said, squeezing her hand to get her to stop walking, but she only smiled slightly. “You’ll see when we get in” she replied, to which you huffed and rolled your eyes, deciding to just give in on the subject.

“SURPRISE!” Someone yelled as soon as you and Jenna made your way inside the local. You jumped out of fear definitely not expecting this, as you looked around. It was the cast of the show, the only and best friends you had made there and in your whole career and life. They all started singing happy birthday and you blushed, covering your face with your hands and once again, hiding it in the crook of Jenna’s neck, who only giggled at the situation and played with your hair for a few seconds before you pulled back and looked at your friends. They had all made their way over to you. Cake in hand with some candles on as you blew them off with a huge smile plastered on your face. “Was this your idea?” You said turning to look at Jenna, who obviously nodded and that made you giggle. After you blew off the candles, Everyone clapped their hands and wished you a happy birthday, also hugging you.

You had made Jenna promise she wouldn’t get you any gifts, and somehow she kept her promise… but her in own ways. She told everyone not to get you any gift and they didn’t but Jenna did get you a present. She was your girlfriend after all and she couldn’t let you spend your birthday without a gift. “I… I know you didn’t want me to, but I got you a present…” she said, holding a small bag, obviously coming from a jewelry. “Jenna… this is why I don’t want any gifts” you said, clearly smiling as you took the small bag in your hands. “I didn’t want you to spend money for me” you started opening it and inside the bag was a small, square box. You shot Jenna a confused glare as she smiled, inviting you to open the box and that you did, inside of it were two beautiful, silver rings. Your jaw dropped at the sight as you took the small rings, you didn’t know what to say “y-you-“ you babbled out something incomprehensible and that made Jenna laugh, as she took the box with the rings.

“It’s silver. I had them customized… mine has your name carved on the inside and yours has my name… god saying this out loud makes this awkward, but I want people to know you’re mine” she said and took your left hand, sliding the ring on your ring finger as you did the same, looking at her with heart eyes as you felt the three words burn the tip of your tongue, apparently she was thinking the same because “I love you” she said, and you raised your hand to caress her cheek, “I love you too” you leaned in for a sweet soft kiss. Every time you kissed her you felt shivers down your spine and that feeling will always be your favorite.

Unfortunately for you, all good things had to get ruined by something. Your phone rang, and the caller read ‘Mamma’ [Mom] . The smile immediately disappeared from your face, she hasn’t called ever since you moved to America, not even a text, a merry Christmas message, nothing. But now she was calling you and you didn’t know what to do. Should you reply, should you not reply? You opted for the first one. Luckily everyone was distracted so you took advantage of the moment to leave the room and sneak out on the balcony. the local had been booked fully for this occasion which meant that aside from you and the cast, there was no one else and the balcony was empty.

[to make things easier for you I’ll write the conversation in English, just know that it’s supposed to be in Italian]

“Hello?” You answered, your voice low and hesitant, as if she was calling to yell at you. “(Y/N), my child… how are you?” It had been ages since you last heard her voice and it seemed… soft. Yet you didn’t want to fall for her trap like you always did when you were younger. “What do you want mom?” Your voice was still hesitant. But throughout the years you had learned how to be more bold, and react to situations. You had built this huge wall between you and your parents now, you never would have expected them to call. “I just called to wish you happy birthday… how have you been?” She seemed genuine, and tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of her finally caring. “I’m… fine” you still refused to open up to them, you didn’t completely trust your parents. The two of you talked for a while, occasional tears leaving your eyes thinking that maybe, your parents finally cared about you. “That’s good… look uhm- your father’s sick and we could use your help.”

Oh.

That was it, this was the reason she had called you. She never wanted to wish you a happy birthday, she didn’t want to know how you had been. “You never wanted to wish me a happy birthday, did you?” You finally said, you didn’t hear an answer coming from the other side of the cellphone. “You called me, had me thinking that you cared just so you could ask me for money!?” The answer came quicker than expected “you owe us-“ “I owe you nothing! What have you done for me, huh? You never showed me you cared, you never supported me, hell at 16 I had to find a job, how is that caring?” You yelled over the phone, at the moment you didn’t care if people heard you. Tears started spilling out faster from your eyes, you heard as your mother tried to justify herself but you weren’t having any of it. “Never call me again mom. I don’t want to hear from you ever again” you said and hung up the phone. You looked at the view from the balcony and just cried your heart out, what is it with people having to ruin the best moments?

In the meantime your friends inside the bar were having a blast. They were all drinking and dancing and having fun, until Jenna noticed you weren’t there anymore. “Guys have you seen (Y/N)?” They all shook their head and Jenna walked around the local, looking everywhere for you until she found you standing alone outside in the balcony. As soon as she was outside with you, she heard you sniffle. “Are you okay? Don’t you like the party-“ you interrupted her. “My mom called,” you started and Jenna stood next to you, looking at you. Your nose was red and your eyes too, but you refused to look at Jenna. “And is it a bad thing?” She asked, voice low, not wanting you to get upset. You never talked about your mother to Jenna and you realized that now it was the time to do so. “In my life, she never supported me, she never showed me any kind of love, never helped me when I was struggling during covid,” you sniffled, more tears coming our of your eyes and Jenna wrapped an arm around you.

“When I came to America, I never heard from her again. Ever. She was just out of my life. But today She called me, wishing me a happy birthday and we talked for a while, she seemed genuine” Jenna rubbed your back trying to calm you down. “Then she told me that my father is sick, and that she wanted my money because I “owed” them…” you sobbed out and covered your face, Jenna pulled you into a tight hug, letting you cry as much as you needed. She didn’t care if her dress was getting soaked, she knew you needed it. “I really, really thought they cared for once” you said pulling back from her, and she wiped your tears, trying to fix your smudged make up “look at me” she said, resting her hand on your cheek “you have a family,” she started, and you looked at her, leaning in for the touch. “You have me. You have the rest of the cast… and you have my family, too. They love you even if they met you once and my parents will always treat you like one of their children. So you’re not alone, okay?” She said and kissed your cheek, which made you smile slightly.

“Do you want to leave?” She asked you, she knew you probably didn’t want the others seeing you like this, so you nodded and you all left the party, getting back to your trailers where you slept with Jenna cuddling you.

April 2022

Well, your birthday was a blast. After it getting ruined by your parents, you thought that nothing else could make this experience in Romania worse. Right? Wrong. It was the last month of filming and you and Tim were panicking. There were lots of things to be done still, scenes to be shots and stunts to be made, and staff shortage. Almost everyone’s contract had expired and slowly but surely everyone was leaving set. You needed more people for this last month and Tim made it his mission to find someone, anyone that could do the job of the people whose contract was expired and he did find someone and today they would be coming on set.

“Okay everyone, so these are the people that would be helping us for this last month. Please make them feel welcomed and comfortable” Tim said something else, but you had already gone pale: Madeline, your Ex, was between those people and was smirking at you with that devilish grin of hers as she waved at you. The girl who had hurt you so much, who only used you for sex and who ruined your life for the most part was there in front of you and probably ready to ruin your life once again. “Are you okay?” Jenna asked you, taking you out of that trance state you found yourself in. You were feeling sick and it was happening really fast. You looked between her and Madeline and before you knew it you were running out from the set, kneeling down by the closest bush you found as you threw up that morning’s breakfast. Of course Jenna ran behind you, immediately holding your hair back as she waited for you to finish throwing up.

When you were finished Jenna took a tissue and cleaned your mouth. “What’s wrong?” She asked you and you looked at her with teary eyes, she seemed confused. “T-that girl, Madeline… She’s my ex” saying this out loud only made you throw up again and Jenna once again took a hold of your hair. Her expression had completely changed from a worried one to a really mad one, she was gonna make this girl’s life a living hell during this month. Jenna once again cleaned your mouth when you were finished throwing up and then the two of you went back inside, where people had already started working - Madeline included. Of course as you went to work as well she had to come to you. “So… how have you been?” She asked, you seriously thought about yelling at her, but you didn’t want to cause any troubles. “What are you doing here?” You ignored her question and she sighed, smirking at you. She was too close for your own likings.

“Relax, I didn’t know that you were here. It was a pure coincidence” you sighed and chuckled. “Yeah right.” She smirked as well “well do you want to grab something to eat together tonight?” She put a hand on your arm, and you quickly moved away from her. “No I don’t want to. And don’t fucking touch me” you said, obviously she chuckled again. “Hmmm feisty. Looks like I’ll have my hands full with you” she bit her lip, making you angrier “you will do nothing with me. The only thing you need to do is to get the fuck out of my face” you spat out, glaring at her as you went back to what you were doing. You knew that she was definitely not gonna leave you alone. Jenna kept her eyes on her and tried to be close to you as best as she could, not ever leaving you alone with her, and not letting her interact with you for longer than needed and it worked, up until some point.

You were in your trailer, waiting for Jenna to finish filming. You and her were supposed to have a movie night, with popcorns and cuddles, just like you loved. You had everything set up and were waiting for her to show up. You heard knocking on the door and obviously you thought it was her so you opened the door “hey Jen-“ you were quickly shut up when Madeline made her way into the trailer, shutting the door close behind her as she pushed you to the wall opposite the door. “How long as it been my dear?” She said, hands on your waist as she kept you pinned against the wall. “M-Madeline, let me go” you said, scared of the possibilities of this scenario. What if Jenna walked in? What would she think? What was Madeline gonna do to you “owh come on, we both know you have been waiting for me to pin you up against the wall like this” she sounded so sure of herself.

“I have a girlfriend,” you started “and she will be here soon so you should leave soon” you hoped that this would make her stop, but instead it only made her giggle. “And you think that’s going to stop me? We both know that she can’t make you scream like I do…” You froze at that, realizing that she wasn’t going to stop. “You don’t known what she’s capable of” this was your last resource. Jenna did take kung fu lessons and you knew that she had quite a lot of strength. “Well neither does she” Madeline replied and within milliseconds her lips were on your neck, sucking and nibbling at the skin “n-no! Stop-“ you cried out, but you couldn’t help the whimper that came out when she bit down on your pulse point. You tried pushing her away but she was stronger then you and pinned you down, hands sneaking under your shirt. “Get off of me!” You yelled, you were now crying, you didn’t want this, not at all.

Eventually and finally, you heard knocks on your door. You knew that it was Jenna. “JENNA PLEASE HELP” you yelled/sobbed out and Madeline wasted no time in covering your mouth. Too late, Jenna had heard you. “Honey? What’s going on in there?” She tried to open the door, but it was locked from the inside. However she could hear your muffled cries and she didn’t like this one bit. “Open the door!” She yelled when she realized that you weren’t going to open it. She was to short to look through the windows of your trailer, but luckily her panicked voice didn’t go unnoticed. The rest of the cast noticed her struggle and walked over to her, Percy and Georgie kicking the door until it eventually flung open, and Jenna didn’t like what she saw one bit. Madeline wasn’t stopping, and Jenna clenched her jaw, walking inside the trailer as she grabbed the girl’s hair, pulling them until the girl was facing her and whimpering of pain.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jenna started, if looks could kill, Madeline would definitely be underground by now. “Giving her what you can’t give her” Madeline said, which made Jenna pull her hair more. “Hear me out” Jenna said, pushing the girl against a wall “your story with her has long finished, and I’m sure she wants nothing else to do with you. She has another girlfriend now.” Jenna warned “that has never stopped-“ the girl was interrupted by another whimper of pain of Jenna pulling her hair more. “If I ever see you around her, look at her and even feel your smell… and if you ever lay another finger on her,” she started walking to the door pulling the girl alongside her “I will end you” Jenna said and basically threw the girl outside of the trailer. “Get the fuck away from here. This set doesn’t need you.” The girl walked away “nobody touches what’s mine” Jenna finally made her way over to you. You had crumbled down on the floor, bracing yourself as Emma and johnna were trying to comfort you.

“Can you please leave us alone?” Jenna asked, and the two girls nodded before leaving the two of you alone “I- I was so scared Jen” you said and looked at her, tears in your eyes as Jenna caressed your cheeks. “I know babe… but she’s gone. I’m gonna make sure Tim fires her and you’re never gonna see her again” you nodded and leaned in for the touch, Jenna looked at your neck, where that bitch was just moments before. She had left some marks, but they were faint, luckily. “We’re gonna make these disappear with some ice” she said and you nodded, Jenna could still see the tears in your eyes, and she pulled you in a loving, comforting hug.

———

That was it.

The last scene had been shot, and everyone had erupted in cheers and applauses to the cast, they were all hugging and laughing, you couldn’t help but feel happy, maybe a little nostalgic, too? You were certainly going to miss these peeps, especially Emma and the girls, in these months you had bonded a lot with them and you wanted to see them again. You hoped you would get to see them again because truly, these were the only friends you had. As it always happened on set, everyone from the cast made as speech and last but not least, was Jenna. “What to say… this has been an incredibly amazing experience, I have never been away from home for longer than a month and a half and at first this felt surreal, it still feels that way. It was hard, there were moments where I wanted to give up, there were moments where I was scared to ruin this role because the amazing Christina Ricci here has done it before me and I stressed myself over making this as perfect as I could”

She giggled, and so did the people watching and listening to her. “But I had support, I had a lot of it. The amazing cast, the staff, and (Y/N)… I never thought I’d find love on set, but here I am and she has been the biggest support ever since” oh no, she wanted to drag you into this. You blushed and looked at her with a huge smile “she has her struggles but she always found time for me and I couldn’t be happier. I love you” she said and you mouthed an ‘I love you too’ but suddenly you were being pushed towards her. “Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss” everyone kept repeating and suddenly Jenna took a hold of your hand, pulling you into a sweet kiss which you immediately reciprocated, and when the two of you pulled back, still being only inches away Jenna whispered again “I love you so much” “me too baby” you said and hugged her.

It was only days later when you made your way to the airport with her. You both had to go back to LA as she was going home and you were too, so you were in the same plane. No one of you had talked about making the relationship public or not, but it was clear from the way you both acted at the airport that you wanted to keep it private, for now at least. Luckily when you arrived there weren’t any paparazzi because your plane had landed in the middle of the night but still you needed to be careful. You had to part your ways as soon as you got out of the airport as two different cars were waiting for you. “Text me when you get home okay?” You told her, as you made your way towards her car first. “Yes don’t worry love” she said with a small, loving smile. She loved how caring you were with her when you had to part. “And say hi to your family for me” she giggled “we will literally live 15 minutes away-“ you interrupted her “shhh let me be the caring girlfriend” you said smiling and helped her get in the car. “Can I steal a kiss? I’m sure no one will see us if I sneak my head in the car” you said pouting and she nodded, pulling you in for a sweet, sleepy kiss. “I love you” she said smiling “I love you too baby. Text me when you get home” you reminded her, and she nodded.

You watched her car leave and then you got into yours, smiling at yourself as you thought of the summer with her that awaited you.

A/N: welll a bit of a more active chapter. Filming has ended! They’ll definitely spend a hot girls summer together👀

Tags: @idkjustliving2 @tundra1029 @engenelxver @rainbow-love4ever @gimaximoff @smromanoff @wol-fica @lum13 @eviekensington @wifeyjennaortega @i984

[badbatchposts]

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Chapter 6

While on a routine mission for Cid, the Bad Batch encounter a woman fleeing from the Empire. Crosshair suspects her seemingly free-spirited, nomadic existence is actually a cover for something else, but struggles to keep his attraction toward her in check as their personalities and ideals clash.

Relevant tags: Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut (it finally starts getting spicy in a couple more chapters!), Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use

Chapters posted 1-2x weekly!

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5

Chapter 6 summary: Dara, stranded without her ship, is looking for work.

It was well into the evening when Dara came strolling through the door of Cid’s parlor. Tech and Wrecker were playing Dejarik while Crosshair moped in a dark corner, tonguing a toothpick and glaring at the other patrons. She sidled up to the bar next to Hunter and Echo and threw them a charming smile. “Next round’s on me, boys.”

“Dara! You found us.” Hunter seemed relatively pleased to see her despite what they had learned. The others crowded around to greet her, chatting and taking the proffered drinks, which Cid served up with an expression indicating that it was an enormous inconvenience to her to perform what was ostensibly her job.

Crosshair had expected that it wouldn’t be long before they saw more of the woman. What he hadn’t expected was for the others to react so strongly to Dara’s return, even with their misgivings about her motivations. It didn’t hurt, he supposed, that she was pretty. Her silver hair gleamed hypnotically under the neon, and she had a pale smattering of freckles across the bridge of her strong, well-shaped nose. With her concussion and injuries now fully faded, she performed the part of agreeable, easygoing traveler of the galaxy much better than she had when she’d first woken up on the Marauder. In fact, she seemed to know exactly how to get along with them all, leaning over and listening intently to Tech, giving Wrecker a light squeeze on the arm and a laugh, even shooting a wink that made Echo blush a little.

It made the sniper more suspicious than ever.

He was certain that this was a façade. The fury and hostility, on the other hand, that was real—they were feelings he knew all-too-well. Despite his wariness, Crosshair found himself drifting in the direction of the group, thinking of all the ways he could needle at Dara until he finally coaxed a reaction out of her and pried back all those careful layers.

The men were laughing at one of her anecdotes—something about a pirate she had briefly bartended for on some remote, backwater planet—when Crosshair approached. “Waddaya think, you planning on ever working for pirates again after all that?” Wrecker was asking.

“Nah, I’ve had enough. They all get a little too trigger happy when you try to cut them off at the end of the night. Although I’ve had worse jobs. Speaking of which…” Dara glanced around thoughtfully at the group. “You all wouldn’t know where I could pick up a bit of work, would you? Without my ship, I’m finding myself a bit too stretched for credits to move on at the moment. Not to mention homeless.”

“You can come with us!” Wrecker burst out enthusiastically.

“Wrecker,” Crosshair hissed. The last thing he wanted was this woman tagging along. They didn’t even know for certain who she was.

“What? Tech was just saying the next few jobs for Cid would be easier with an extra person.” The large man didn’t care much about whatever Dara might be hiding from them. He’d spent years being shot at and running eagerly toward danger; it was hard to imagine one person—particularly one that was apparently no friend to the Empire—being a threat.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be much use to you,” Dara intervened. “I can handle myself okay, but I’m not sure what I could contribute besides another pair of hands.”

Hunter and Tech exchanged a thoughtful glance. “Well…” Hunter began slowly.

Tech picked up the thread. “We were just saying that it would be ideal to have someone stay behind with the Marauder to provide a pick-up on our next job. But we need everyone else with us to infiltrate the site.”

“I mean… I can fly a ship,” Dara replied, her eyes brightening. “And I’ll be out of your hair as soon as you don’t need me anymore.”

“We don’t need you now,” Crosshair growled.

Dara deferred expertly. “Of course not. I don’t want to get in your way.” Crosshair was certain she was doing it on purpose; the moment she downplayed herself, permitted the sniper the upper hand, the others reflexively felt compelled to defend her.

“You wouldn’t be in the way,” Echo insisted. “Crosshair himself said you took down four Imperials. That’s not nothing.”

It was down to Hunter to make the call. He gave a decisive nod. “You can join us for the next job. On a trial basis,” he added, to appease Crosshair.

Dara smiled and thanked them all profusely, looking pleased. Downing the last dregs of their drinks and giving Cid a nod, the group exited the bar, heading their way through Ord Mantell’s narrow streets toward the Marauder.

When they arrived at the ship, Wrecker showed Dara toward the cargo hold, where she could string up the hammock she kept stored neatly in her pack and settle in for the night. The ship had quieted and all the others were tucked into their bunks when Crosshair, arms folded, appeared, leaning against the doorway.

“Yes?” Dara asked sweetly. Her fingers were intertwined behind her head, and her hammock swayed gently back and forth. He swore that she looked smug, knowing she had made her way into the Marauder and onto the team against his protests.

“Don’t get any bright ideas, burk’yc,” he warned. “My brothers might fall for a nice smile, but I know better.”

Dara’s eyes seemed to flash in the half-light. “Jealous, Bullseye? Did you want me to smile at you, too?” Her tone was almost flirtatious, but her mouth was a severe, cold line. Whatever her motivations, she was uninterested in performing friendliness for him the way she was for his brothers—or, perhaps, she had accepted that there was no point.

He continued to stare at her, unmoved. The woman looked away with a shrug, closing her eyes. She didn’t know how long he stood there before retiring, on silent, catlike feet, to his own bunk.

Next chapter

[aranarumei]

how much does sasaki talk about hirano?

hey everyone. I’m coming to you live with an INVESTIGATIVE REPORT about the one and only sasaki shuumei. the question above pretty much summarizes what I'm trying to find out. so I’ll expand on this under the cut. apologies in advance for any typos

—

there’s a scene that’s always made me confused ever since I first read it (which wow. I’ve been reading this manga as it updates since partly through volume 3… crazy how far its come!) and that is this sequence of two pages in the extras of Vol 7 (39.5), below:

hirano’s like “well, it’s fine to talk about me to miyano as long as you didn’t say any weird stuff about me” and sasaki goes. Silent. Now I at the time assumed like. ah sasaki’s talking about the hirano and kagiura relationshipisms. or the whole uke thing. right?

…right?

see, the thing is: when sasaki visits campus in ch 46, he asks the basketball team about a kagi-kun, and then when miyano questions him about what he was doing, he’s like “oh I just remembered hirano’s old roommate was on the basketball team,” and then refuses to even tell miyano his name. so it’s like… did sasaki EVER talk about hirano’s roommate to Miyano? like of his own initiative? did he offer any information? so I decided that instead of just bringing that question up, I’d reread all of sasaki to miyano and get my answer.

disclaimer that this deals with exclusively the manga: I have this hidden fear that I’m going to post this and get a reply like “oh this is 50% of the entire novel content” but! the scene in question comes up in the manga! I think it ought to then refer to an event in the manga! but seriously if stuff like that does come up in the novel feel free to chime in. also bc I was rereading the whole manga I have Other Thoughts Too but. those can hopefully marinate their way into other posts.

ch 2:

miyano: But I saw you! I saw you laughing as you chatted with a first-year boy from class 1A in the basketball club with a lovely smile!

this does not count. miyano brings this up to hirano himself. in fact a lot of miyano putting hirano into bl contexts happens In Front Of Hirano’s Face. not really a conversation starter for sasaki. it does make ch 46 way more interesting bc it means like. sasaki has remembered that kagiura’s on the basketball team to the point that he wants to check in on him? whereas miyano like Knows this info yet never really pursues it. suppose it’d be awkward to just go up and try to find him without knowing his name, though.

ch 4:

sasaki says “but hirano can handle alcohol fine” which is perfectly on topic since they were just discussing how sasaki can’t handle it. it’s miyano that spins into bl fantasies afterwards. also hirano is right there in this situation. does not count.

ch 5:

sasaki: Hirano’s playing Oiwa-san for the haunted house. Want to see? He’s crossdressing and wearing a wig.

this does count. sasaki is bringing up hirano and telling miyano something that miyano would totally get excited about. it is, I would say, not brought up out of nowhere, since they discuss crossdressing right before. unrelated to this I would love to see the image of sasaki as hanako-san of the toilet.

ch 6:

sasaki asks about miyano’s love life and when miyano says that he’s not romantically interested in anyone around here, and sasaki asks “what about hirano?” miyano says he ships him with his roommate and the conversation ends there. I would say this also does not count—yeah, he’s perhaps bringing up hirano as a romantic prospect, but I think this is more sasaki like. being jealous more than it is using him as a reason to talk to miyano. he’s like. a pretty jealous guy.

ch 8:

sasaki tells miyano that his grades suck and hirano’s been tutoring him. this does not count.

ch 11:

sasaki says “don’t you prefer black-haired ukes?” and “ah, you mean like hirano?” when miyano says he prefers manly ukes. this does count. while it’s in the topic of conversation, there’s not a real reason he has to bring hirano up. plus, he even continues it with “hirano’s pretty tall. can he still not be a seme?” so it’s using hirano to keep a conversation going with miyano, but I will note it’s not what starts the conversation.

ch 13:

sasaki talks about hirano getting banned from doing the ball toss. this does not count.

ch 24.5:

“ooh, if it was hirano, it would be taiko” says sasaki when miyano brings up all the girl names that he and his classmates would have. this does not count. it’s a natural extension of the various female names they’ve been talking about, sasaki included, and hirano’s their mutual friend.

ch 33:

sasaki brings up hirano’s dedication to studying and how he says that getting accepted to university isn’t the finish line. says hirano’s pretty cool for that mindset. this does not count.

ch 41:

sasaki says "haha, yikes! hirano was a terrible influence!" when miyano tells him about kuresawa getting a piercing. this does not count. it’s also after graduation, where the scene happened.

ch 42.5:

sasaki is like wow I can't believe hirano's roommate does THAT in the mornings to miyano, regarding vol 2 of sasaki to miyano. however this kind of thing isn't quite canonical since they know there are books being published about them so. this does not count.

halloween 2018 extra:

miyano asks if sasaki's friends got their items confiscated, and sasaki replies by saying that hirano's in charge of confiscation for their class, so their class had the idea to overwhelm him. this does not count.

dvd extra 4:

sasaki tells miyano about how they ripped the wallpaper on accident, and once he said it kind of gave it a badboy feel, they started doing it on purpose. hirano participated in it too. this does not count.

I’ve probably missed some, but we can see that out of all of these situations, only TWO are actually what I’d qualify as “weird” by hirano’s metrics. unless sasaki talking about the wild stuff Hirano gets up to includes his ball toss strategy and him ripping up wallpaper. then it’s four. my point is that sasaki says it’s “a lot” when it’s not. so… why is that?

I’ve been mulling over a couple of ideas regarding this, but I kind of don’t want to offer up my own interpretations first? plus when I tried writing my answer I spun off into a really bad tangent, so… post ends here. hope we all learned something here!

[nanuk-dain]

First Line Analysis

Rules: post the first lines of up to 10 of your last fics/chapters posted on AO3 or your WIPs and try to draw some conclusions.

Oh, that's interesting. I've never thought about that... Thank you so much @gorgeousundertow for the tag <3

1 - Mike keeps the 50-cal directed at the field to the right of the victor where numerous distant shapes in desert cammies and woodland flak vests are progressing at a slow pace. (From The World's Smallest Book Club Ch 33)

Okay, so we learn who the narrator is, that it's a military setting and that something is happening, but we don't know what. Those who know Generation Kill will also probably be able to place the scene even with the little intel we have.

2 - Gabe wakes because something is tickling his nose, and the first thing he realises is that he's lying on his ratty couch with his feet dangling over one side. (From Nocturnal Revelations)

What I like about this is that we're wondering what the reason for the tickling is, and we immediately know it's a civilian setting - two things that make it interesting to read on.

3 - "Ah, Ray... Is that Brad dragging the LT?" Ray looks up curiously at the sound of Walt's voice, because it's an interesting mixture of incredulous and concerned. (From Unit Ch 113)

One of the few times I start with direct speech, it seems. And the question itself is so unusual that I think it gets the reader curious right away, while we also know that it's Ray's POV and he's talking about Brad and Nate to Walt who's obviously having a hard time believing what he's seeing. I think that sets up the scene enough to draw the reader in, which is what I was going for.

4 - When Tim opens his eyes, the first thing he notices is that his head hurts, followed by staring up into a familiar face hovering over his own. (From Confluence Ch 1)

We end up smack in the middle of the situation here, and all we know is that it's Tim's POV and that something happened that apparently made him pass out and left him with a head that hurts. Enough to pique your interest, right? ^_^ This is in fact a collab with @mac-and-geese, but I think I can use it since I was the one who wrote the start of our fic.

5 - When Michael 'Budweiser' Brunmeier enlists in the Marine Corps, he knows that he's not straight, and he's okay with that. (From Origins Ch 1)

This time it's again setting just enough of the scene to make you curious. Just one sentence, but we already know there's going to be issues because being in the Marine Corps and not being straight at that time set you on a path of conflict with DADT.

6 - Sleeping in a tactical huddle is not gay. Chaffin knows that. It's a fact. Everybody in the entire military - no matter which branch - knows that. (From Tactical Huddle)

Okay, I notice a pattern here, because it's basically the same general issue set up here as in the fic before. Military, gay, DADT. Except that apparently our MC isn't nearly as okay with it as Budweiser XD

7 - Evan has no idea how it even happened. Because he's not fucking gay, and neither is John. (From Screwing Boundaries Ch 1)

Huh, again with the gay conflict, with just enough intel to get the readers curious. And again the scene's not set much beyond that we know who's talking and what the general issue is. I seem to do that a lot O_o

8 - Brad looks around and can't help feeling out of place. (From Welcome Home)

Oh, finally something a little different XD But again we only know who the narrator is and that something's up. Considering that Brad is rarely feeling out of place, that triggers the urge to know what situation he's in that he does feel out of place.

9 - When Rich returns to his victor after his tour around the perimeter of Alpha's watch posts, the firefights outside the walls of the cigarette factory are still going strong. (From Reassurance)

Okay, yeah, I definitely like leaving people with just enough intel to get curious. This is probably one of the more detailled settings of the situation, and again people who know Generation Kill will know from that sentence alone where we are and what the situation is.

10 - "The former patient rooms will do nicely as accommodation." Brad reports to Lieutenant Fick when they're walking towards the entrance to the large room that has been ransacked to bareness and where the men of Bravo Two are setting up camp. (From Sir)

Another first line that gives just enough intel to know where we are, whose POV we have and who is part of the scene. At least I have two fics that give a little more info than just a tease in the first sentence XD

Conclusion:

Huh... So I guess I like throwing the reader smack in the middle of the situation while also making it clear right away whose POV we're experiencing. Seems I never start a fic/chapter with describing the setting, I just drop my main character into it and leave the reader to figure out what's going on alongside my MC. I never noticed I do that. And I'm not sure what to make of it, either XD And apparently I tend to try to create curiosity in the reader about what's going on, and give just enough of the setting to get you interested. That's kind of a common thread I noticed going over those first lines, and the funny thing is that I actually don't do that on purpose, it just happens...

Okay, since this was such an interesting experiment, I want to give the same opportunity to @anthrobrat, @mac-and-geese, @military-bluebells and @meganmoonlight. Have fun, my friends, and learn something about yourself and your writing ;D

[idontknowreallywhy]

Estera - Ch 16 - Distraction

Developments develop. John lives to regret his eldest brother befriending his AI daughter. But can bagels ever be bad?

TW for sickness. This remains the only part of this entire story that could be viewed as a self-insert as I drafted it in my head when I too was curled up on the bathroom floor… Estera is much braver than I was though.

Apologies if these are coming somewhat thick and fast… figured I’d get as much as I can posted while the muse cooperates and before something shiny breaks the current hyper-fixation I have on this story 😏

(Previous… Prologue - Stars are Only Visible in Darkness, Estera - 1 - Colour, 2 - Dinosaur, 3 - Shoes, 4 - Thunderbird, 5 - Lesson, 6 - Safe, 7 - Gull, 8 - Deliver, 9 - Coffee, 10 - Flight, 11 - Run, 12 - Fall, 13 - Trying, 14 - Hide, 15 - Wait)

(Sofasurf’s Recrudescence which is the foundation for all of this)

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Slumped in the corner of the bathroom, cold sweat prickling from every pore she pressed her face against the coolness of the tiles and willed away the nausea.

She did NOT. Have. Time. For. This.

It was obviously an occupational hazard of spending every working day with small children, but she often seemed to dodge the viruses that took down her colleagues and had always been secretly pleased by the fact she was able to invincibly swoop in and cover for them when required. Pride before a fall.

It was particularly embarrassing as she’d been back at work a mere 3 days after so much time off. Just tomorrow and Friday left before the holidays… she COULDN’T call in sick it was just too ridiculous. Somehow she had to power through.

This particular bug seemed determined not to be ignored, however. Another wave of sickness hit and left her curled in a tight ball, sobbing into her best quality bath towel.

Too much self pity, Estera, need to think of something else…

Her feverish mind supplied only Baby Shark on loop.

Which didn’t really help.

Groaning in frustration she reached for her mobile phone, maybe she could find distraction of some kind online. Not that anyone she knew was likely to be awake at this time.

Oh, there was just one, according to the little green dot next to the word Blue.

As always her brain warred with itself - the anticipation of the warm, safe feeling their silly little exchanges always brought versus the sharp bite of guilt that demanded to know why she had any kind of right to his time or attention after what she had done. After the pain she’d caused him.

The nausea rolled by again, threatening to drag her into despair. She gritted her teeth. Desperate times… maybe he wouldn’t mind sharing another daft joke or something…

Hi, you’re up late?

Hey there 😀 no it’s mid-afternoon here ☀️

Oh! Sorry, I actually have no idea where you live and shouldn’t have assumed.

Not a problem, we tend to keep it quiet for security so I wouldn’t have mentioned where we are.

You ARE up late though? Everything alright?

Well she should have seen that coming. Fever made her honest. Or at least had eliminated her ability to formulate a plausible lie.

“Just a bit of a sickness bug, caught it from the kids.”

Ugh, that’s the worst. You want company? I can be there in half an hour?

She blinked. He was joking, surely?

Ha, err no I’m good thanks. That’s pretty fast though!

Told you One was the best Thunderbird 😉

She laughed out loud at the reference to the passionate debate in the cave. Which triggered another bout of unpleasantness. She lay on the floor for a while waiting for her head to stop pounding.

A soft ping made her open her eyes again.

You ok?

Sorry, yes. Just… well, you know.

Don’t apologise. Just wish I could help.

I could do with some distraction.

Want to hear about how our pool got filled with jello?

You have a pool? 😲

And yes please

WELL

It started (as it often does) with Gordon (2nd youngest) winding up Alan (youngest)

I never figured out precisely what it was about but that rarely matters…

She focussed on allowing herself to relax and to be carried away by the tale. He was an engaging story teller although she was sure much of it must be exaggerated - surely no real people would take a prank war to such extremes.

He asked about Italy so she found herself telling him about her family, her nieces’ exploits and how she’d got herself completely lost on the day trip to Venice.

She even admitted the trip took place when it did because she had been signed off work - fever really did make her too honest.

She didn’t say why. He didn’t ask. But the ball of tension that had resided in her throat for weeks eased, just a little.

She talked about Bez. He told her about his family, their different skills and interests and how proud of them all he was. He shared more dad jokes. She informed him they were terrible.

An hour or so later, having been chivvied to finally send the email to the school office, she crawled back into bed and a thankfully dreamless sleep took her.

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She woke with a start to the sound of the doorbell and Bez skittering about excitedly in the hallway. 10am - was it someone from school checking she was really ill? Staggering on jelly legs to the door she cautiously cracked it open.

“Delivery for Miss Herz… Herma…zew…” the courier frowned and held out a large brown paper bag.

“That would be me. Err thanks.”

Leaning heavily on the closed door she gently pushed Bez’s enthusiastic head out of the bag. In fairness to him it was emitting quite a pleasant aroma. Which turned out to be chicken soup and plain toasted bagels from a deli in town. she recognised the name of the place but it was far too fancy for her to have ever darkened the door. A bottle of isotonic drink and a range of herbal teabags were also included along with a printed note reading only “Get well soon, S x”

Well that was… unexpected. And kind.

Bez was beginning to lose his mind so she poured half the soup into his bowl and curled up on the sofa. She nibbled at a piece of fancy bagel… it really was excellent and probably wasted on her somewhat battered palate. She picked up her phone to send a thank you message, trying to calculate what the time difference must be when suddenly she froze and the bagel fell from her hand to immediately be wolfed down by her delighted dog.

How had he known her address?

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“John?”

“Yes EOS?”

“What kind of bagel flies?”

John ducked, concerned that the AI might be regressing back to old tricks. His immediate vicinity remained airborne-bread-product free, however.

“I’m sorry?”

“A plain bagel.”

“What?”

“It is a pun. I have deliberately exploited the fact that there are two meanings of the word plane for comedic effect. It is funny.”

Silence reigned.

“John?”

He lifted his head from his hands and sighed. “Yes EOS?”

“Why aren’t you laughing?”

“I was distracted by plotting my eldest brother’s demise.”

“He mentioned that you might initially react with threats of violence to his person and advised that persistence is generally the key to good comedy. What do ghosts put on their bagels?”

John flinched unwillingly and tried to cover it by playing along.

“I don’t know EOS, what do ghosts put on their bagels?”

“Scream cheese. This one is another play on words because although it isn’t precisely the same phoneme the sound is very similar.”

“I get it EOS.”

“You still aren’t laughing, John. Should I continue with the persistence strategy? Or perhaps I should carry out further research?”

“The latter I think.”

There was a pause.

“John, whilst we are discussing bagels, I believe you would enjoy a trip to the South West of England.”

John looked up from the weather front he was monitoring and frowned as he tried to predict the punchline to this one.

“Why is that EOS?”

“This deli claims to produce the most delicious bagels in Europe.”

“Good to know. What brought that to your attention?”

“Scott asked me to research the best place to order from in that locality.”

John noted the dropping of the surname from her habitual reference to his family members. Thus far, only he had been on first name only terms with his AI. It seemed his big brother had been upgraded too.

“He did, did he?” John paused, wondering whether further enquiry was overstepping a boundary. Maybe it was a little, but Scott had been acting weirdly and as a caring brother John should keep an eye on him.

“Did he say why?”

“We sent a ‘care package’ to a friend.” EOS enunciated the new phrase carefully.

John’s eyebrows defied his attempt to maintain a poker face. Turning away from EOS’s camera track he opened a private line to Virgil.

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Hey how are you doing? Hope you managed to get some sleep?

She typed and deleted three variants of a reply, then buried the phone under a cushion and curled up on the couch with her head on Bez’s flank. The dog huffed in his sleep.

She had eaten the rest of the food. She wasn’t insane - it was delicious and probably eye-wateringly expensive - and she didn’t have the energy to prepare herself anything else. It really was a thoughtful gesture and she had to say thank you. Should have done already.

But the initial glow of warmth at the thought she had a friend out there somewhere who cared had been swamped by the creepy feeling. She wasn’t listed in the directory. Never had been. There had never seemed any point as who would look her up and it would only result in sales calls or junk mail. And advertising her surname might invite the attention of the unpleasant minority with a particular political statement to make.

The “It’s over now, why are you still here?” type of statement. Best avoided.

So how had he got it?

She thought again of his immediate offer of company, which had seemed sweet if rather silly at the time.

What if there was an ulterior motive?

She shivered and had to focus to push back certain memories that still lurked too close to the edge of her consciousness.

Don’t be ridiculous. The man had the entire world at his feet. And she was literally being sick at the time. Hardly attractive to someone thinking in that way. She thought back to the time they had had coffee… no… he didn’t seem like that kind of a person. He’d seemed… surprisingly genuine. The occasional text exchanges they’d had since then had backed up that initial impression. And last night in all that time messaging her, keeping her company, there were no red flags at all, she’d even felt maybe he was someone she could trust… could actually talk to.

Aaaaaah which meant he was just being nice and she hadn’t responded! Being wary, even cynical was one thing, but she couldn’t bear to be rude. She grabbed the phone but found herself hesitating again. Maybe she could just ask about the address and if he was weird about it let him down gently and delete his number and hide. Yes, hide from the guy who could buy her entire town if the fancy took him. Right. That would definitely work.

"Damnit Scott Tracy, you’d better not be a weirdo stalker."

Bez looked up sleepily.

“Sorry, Bez, didn’t mean to say that out loud.

Right. Ok. Thank you message.

She added a smiley face to make it seem less flat and reread it again.

And then again. It would have to do.

She pressed send.

Hi, I seem to be ok now just really drained. Thank you for the soup, it was just what I needed. 🙂

Glad to hear it. Make sure you keep hydrated and get plenty of rest

I get the impression you say that kind of thing a lot?

Ha. Yeah I’ve 4 little brothers. We’ve seen our fair share of stomach flu.

Seriously though, the hydration thing…

She eyed her empty glass. He had a point actually.

I am literally getting up to refill my drink now

Good 🥃

That was the wrong emoji, I do not recommend whisky at this time!

Estera leant heavily on the side of the sink, sipping water and trying to calculate whether she could take more tablets for the throbbing headache yet. No, not quite. She eyed the phone on the table. Ah, it was no good, she had to ask or she’d be driven to madness by overthinking.

Can I ask you something?

Of course!

Fire away

How do you know my address?

The little ticks turned green and she waited for the completely normal and un-terrifying response that was obviously coming.

Except it didn’t. After ten minutes, she stopped watching the unchanging screen and hid the phone in a drawer. Being unable to see it didn’t help in the slightest. Checking it again showed no change. She slammed the drawer closed.

She crawled into the shower and sat motionless under the flow of water, trying to work out how on earth she could afford to quit her job, move home and change her name.

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Chapter 17…

[hikennosabo]

trimax vol 14 random thoughts (ch 5-8)

okay enough stalling... let's get this done... HOO BOY

chapter 5:

i love how vash is drawn in these panels... and vash waking up from hearing meryl's words... WAAHHHHH...

GET UP COWARD (<- lyric from my chemical romance's 2022 single 'the foundations of decay' which i may or may not be considering for a vash playlist)

oh, i LOVE this image of knives covering his face...

hmhmhm... the way knives addresses the other plants is... gentle, almost?

"sorrow and grief," huh... over the humans trying to communicate with them? those are the kinds of emotions this scenario is bringing out? there is something there but... i don't quite know what it is...

uwahhh... i do love this image...

"we were united in hatred" -> "i feel a murmur of fear"... hmmm. sounds like knives himself, who buried his fear underneath hatred... am i connecting any dots???

but fear in communicating with humans... fear because communication is scary in general? fear because of the abuse humans have put plants through? fear of uncertainty of what this communication will result in?

the tiniest merylmilly u can imagine...

they ask if it's safe, but it's not like vash cares if it's safe, he's been prepared to die for several volumes now, so... he's probably thinking "if i die i die," lol. (<- in pain)

this is a cute expression...

"don't touch me," he says...

knives trying to incorporate himself with the fused plants - now it's HIS turn to go "if i die i die" i guess LJSDKLFDS... both him and vash risking it all for their ideals. they really are brothers...

vash's "grant me that ticket"... it doesn't directly address god, but it feels like a prayer nonetheless.

chapter 6:

wah... meryl's strength gives vash strength... wahhh... is this the first time they've... well, "talked about it" isn't the right phrase, but is this the first time vash understands what meryl was going through that time when she flinched away from him?

"what matters is that you communicate. that you understand the person next to you is breathing and existing." ugh, fuck, i can feel myself getting weepy again.

the people getting good AND bad memories from the plants.. good! good! they said a few volumes ago that most(?) of the population has gathered in this city, so this really is everyone?! individual normal people couldn't do much about plant abuse, but now that EVERYONE understands, things can change! they can acknowledge what's happened, and they can change, and move forward!!

and vash being the bridge, the point of commonality between humans and plants... uaaghgh it's so interesting because for a long time vash's reputation among the humans was one of destruction. but in this moment everyone understands who he really is and what he wants. ueueeueueue....

also. this pattern of receiving traumatic memories via feathers, and to come out the other side not with fear and hatred but with increased compassion and understanding... sounds like what happened between vash and meryl, doesn't it?

"i've never made a promise like this before, but today i'd like to try" UAAGHGHHG.G U AHGHGHGHG.

haha. hey. why does it look like he's been crying. i'm going to throw up.

i don't know if the rest of this post will be comprehensible.

chapter 7:

what do i even say here.

hey remember the chapter title "king of loneliness." i'm gonna go eat rocks now.

even now, he's stubbornly clinging to his ideals, thinking he's in too deep, that he's gone too far to turn back...

oh, this is getting to me, the way it's worded. "caught up in something too big" and the panel of them as kids. they were just kids when this all started. this was too big for them. knives was a kid, a traumatized, scared kid who made a very bad, very destructive decision, and he has lived his life up until this point digging his heels in, growing more and more twisted, more controlling and violent, trying to justify his own actions to himself because how do you carry something like that.

"kill me, vash, there's nowhere else for me to go." literally two chapters ago vash said "where am i going? what's there left to see?" i'm fucking eating rocks.

"even though we were apart for so long, we were still brothers. but i was the one who broke away..." knives looks so pained when he thinks this. now, after all this, he's finally feeling regret, or letting himself feel regret. in the last possible moment.

...or so he thinks. vash has a clear shot, the opportunity to kill knives, and knives wants vash to kill him, he expects it - but vash protects him instead. with his last bullet. despite knives's blade going through his torso. despite everything. despite EVERYTHING!!!!! vash has EVERY REASON to hate knives, to KILL knives, and he STILL chooses not to!!!! i'm not okay i'm crying again

in 98, rem tells vash "take care of knives"... this is pretty much the same thing... i don't want to say this is necessarily another thing nightow took from 98 because of course this is what she said, what else would she have said at that time?

the beginning of the chapter had vash struggling to remember what rem said, but the preceding pages imply it's knives remembering her words... or maybe they both are...

this is fucking getting to me, fuck, i'm crying again!!! fuck!!!!

also, oh, chronica IS still alive... honestly i was (and still am) so caught up in the twins that that information just immediately left my brain the first time around LMAO...

i am so. fucking. unwell. about knives's expressions in this scene. he's feeling so many things at once. i just... the fact that vash protects knives and picks him up to haul him away... he ISN'T leaving knives on his own, even in the end, even after everything that's happened... and knives is just. what IS he feeling? shock, disbelief, regret... love, can i say love?? love for his brother?? the love between them that never went away, despite everything?? i am gonna fucking throw up

i don't know where to put this in the post because it occurred to me while i was proofreading, but knives stabbed vash, felt shock and regret, and then acted to save him... which sounds awfully similar to what happened between rem and vash, huh?

this, with knives's hair turning black... new hair, new outlook, right?

will you drive me back, can you take me home... (<- lyrics from gerard way's 'brother' from his 2014 solo album 'hesitant alien')

oh, the fact that they sprouted wings like this in the stampede s1 finale is gonna make it hit SOOOO MUCH HARDER once THIS scene gets adapted. this is such a beautiful spread, a beautiful moment... i'm gonna cry again...

LIVIO!!!! TO THE RESCUE!!!! also... that's not a double fang, whose gun is that?

WOLFWOOD!!!!! WWWAHHHHGHGHGHH!!!!! the "turn around and he's gone" scene is SUCH a cliche but FUCK!!!!!! IT'S GETTING TO ME!!!!!!

chapter 8:

i feel so normal i feel so normal (affirmations) (lying)

i can't. i can't type. i'm crying too much. this is love. it's just love.

his last act, knowing that it will kill him, is an act of love. love for his brother. so vash can eat. so the doctor and his kid can eat. and as time goes on it'll grow bigger and be able to feed more people. food as a love language. i'm crying and sobbing.

knives understands he has no place in this world, especially after everything he's done, and the world needs vash more than him... that vash can't live in the world as long as they're together... he doesn't even tell vash himself that he intended to disappear... it's his choice, he walks his path with pride... but i'd like to believe they were able to spend some time together before this. just being brothers. TALKING. eating together. sleeping next to each other. hugging?? apologizing?? knives finally being a good brother after so long and taking care of vash?? making up for lost time. i'd like to imagine it. let me imagine it.

i've been thinking this for a while but i actually do think that vash would forgive knives if knives expressed regret and asked for forgiveness. because vash is jesus and all, and that's how sin and forgiveness work in christianity, if you believe and repent you will be forgiven, etc... i don't know if vash would forgive knives right away - he is very, very human after all - but i definitely think he could. and maybe he did. maybe they had that talk.

phew. okay, i'm finished crying now, and BOY was it a big cry. not any easier the second time around. anyway.

does he really need a wig? if he doesn't spike up his hair, that would be effective by itself, since it's one of his identifiers according to the earth forces...

DOES THIS CONFIRM THAT VASH CAN'T GROW A BEARD WITHOUT EFFORT? like since his plant powers are completely drained he can no longer grow a beard???

AHHHH... VASH'S BIG SMILE!!!!! and everyone's wearing their old clothes, and with a bunch of guys comically chasing vash around, yeah, this is really all for callback's sake... we've come so far, and full circle.

meryl's lecture to him is so typically meryl LOL... he DID NOT keep his promise LMAO

the fucking jojo sound effects are cracking me up HDSFKSFJDFS

also everyone who complained about stampede """changing""" meryl into a reporter owes me $100 right fucking now. that was a complaint i saw SO MUCH. i thought it was a bit strange myself, but i figured orange had a reason, and now i know. those complainers know NOTHING!!! NOTHING!!!!!!

meryl frantically reading from her script and milly's big smile... cute... also WHAT DO YOU MEAN WARDROBE MALFUNCTIONS LMAO?? are they planning on stripping him?? vash the stampede nip slip???

AAHHHHH LIVIO GREW HIS HAIR OUT AGAIN!!!!! and he's at wolfwood's grave... oh fuck i said i was done crying GODDAMMIT!!!!

okay. okay i'm done for real now. man. man. what do i say. what can i say.

"the same song of humanity still sang." and what a beautiful song it is.

i don't really know how to conclude this post... just. wow. what a journey this was. i don't think i've ever cried this much over a manga, lol... i... had a really good time!

[rscroogedraws]

Here are a couple of my favorite (not too spoiler-ific) scenes from a couple of my in-progress fan fics.

I've had an uphill battle with bad writer's block and inconsistency with any kind of creative fiction for the past several years now. It hurt having such a hard time with that since I've wanted to become some kind of fiction author since I was six and I used to actively write analyses for YouTube stuff. So the fact I've eked out a couple chapters for each of these feels like a huge accomplishment to me.

I appreciate all of the feedback or interest I've gotten for pretty much any of my projects over the past year or so. Seriously, even if you're just leaving a like, it's made a difference to me knowing someone enjoyed my work enough to take a second to interact with them in that kind of capacity.

A03 is down for maintenance at the time I'm posting. I'll update these with links once they're back up later today or tomorrow.

Edit: Links have been added!

Not Quite an Elevator Pitch

O.K. K.O. Let's Be Heroes! Fan Fic

Synopsis: Professor Venomous is back in Lakewood Plaza Turbo! He thought returning would be as easy as move back into Boxmore and start attacking the Plaza. Instead, he's not quite sure what to do next and is trying to find himself. Then he gets stuck in an elevator with someone unexpected and they give him a much-needed reality check.

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56784448/chapters/144365029

Snippet from Ch. 2: Definitely Not Silver Spark

When Venomous awoke the next morning, he was surprised he slept at all. He wandered into the living room and read 9:08 AM on the digital oven clock. That was a personal achievement after the last week or so of staying up until 4:00 AM, hanging in there long enough to pull together a bare bones breakfast and box lunch for Fink, and then crashing until 5 or 6 before Fink returned from school or Boxmore.

He padded into the kitchen as he mentally cataloged notes to send with Fink on why she was late as well as easy but actually nutritious lunches to send with her. So much of him hated that he’d relied on Snackables so much the past few days. He kept imagining an okay-ish tuna sandwich next to flimsy cardboard packaging with crackers, dubious lunch meat, plastic cheese, and radioactive colored candy. Fink loved it. She bragged that her friends were jealous with a big grin on her face. That was now. What kind of look would she give him when she was in her early 30’s and remembered that he knew how to competently cook but opted for shortcuts instead?

That train of thought wasn’t even needed. Today was Saturday. Fink said she’d be gaming. Then Venomous found a note attached to the fridge: Hey Boss! The tournament got rescheduled. So I’m helping Raymond and Shannon raid a cruise liner today! They have lobster. I’ll make sure to bring home leftovers.

A mix of hurt and pride panged through Venomous. Previously, Fink asked to join him on every villainous caper, business trip, or big event. Lately, if she wasn’t gaming with friends, she was hanging out with her step-siblings or new friends somewhere “irl.” She still said hi, let him know where she was going, and kept a generally friendly rapport. After the horror stories Venomous heard from other parents about teenagers, that had to mean something. Fink was just starting to enter her teenage years though. There was still time for heLinkr to develop resentment towards him.

That’s probably how K.O. felt right now. He had every reason to hate PV and never talk to him again. That’d been earned. Very painfully earned. The part of him that still gripped his head on straight with little ribbons of hot glue and sticky tack knew he should leave all of that alone. The part of him that was itching to throw back a full bottle of absinthe before 11:00 in the morning was making a beeline for his phone.

He’d dialed the number before stronger self-control would have stopped him.

“...hello?” Silver Spark’s voice drifted in from the other line. “Carol speaking. Sorry for not recognizing your number. I think it’s been long enough since we exchanged numbers I don’t remember. Who is this?”

“…Lase-Professor Venomous.” He swallowed heavily and felt like he’d been hit by an intense bolt of lightning. “Professor Venomous.”

“Um...oh. Ahm, okay.” She didn’t sound completely upset but her tone wasn’t as pleasant as before either. “Did you need something for paperwork?”https://archiveofourown.org/works/56784448/chapters/144365029

“….no.”

“Okay….” Carol cleared her throat. “We got all of your child support payments. If that’s what you were calling about. Everything on that front has been smooth sailing.”

“Good.” Venomous stared intensely at the nearest kitchen counter. There was a marbling pattern over everything he hadn’t noticed before.

“Yeah….” Impatience was starting to creep into Carol’s tone.

“I’m sorry.” The words just tumbled out. “I’m sorry….about everything.”

It felt like time itself stopped. If the oven clock digital display wasn’t flashing, Venomous would have started entertaining the thought of a time wizard or a highly-advanced lizard creature with space-time warping powers crawling around the apartment. Almost two agonizing minutes passed. Carol’s breathing on the other end of the phone became a little strained.

“Are you okay?” Of course he had to follow up dropping an emotional bomb with an equally stupid foot-in-mouth comment.

“Professor Venomous,” Carol said with a slight stutter. “I-If we’re talking about this, I’d rather do it in person.”

“I...understand.” He felt his heart start fluttering around his rib cage like a hummingbird desperately trying to break free.

****

Our Beloved Docktor Frogg

League of Super Evil Fan Fic with some O.K. K.O.! crossover references

Synopsis: Docktor Frogg is starting to feel stagnant towards his overall life and career as a mad scientist. He wonders if the grass is greener somewhere else working for someone other than Voltar the Saturday morning cartoon flop.

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56704720/chapters/144145309

Snippet from Part II: Sandwich Artist Gene

“Can I take your order?” The waitress’ voice was familiar but Frogg couldn’t quite place why.

“Lizzy?” Frogg immediately shot up at Voltar’s excited tone of voice. “It’s been awhile! How are you?”

“It’s Elizabeth, Voltar.” Lightning Liz, sans her trademark yellow exo-suit, stood behind the counter in a light blue polo shirt, washed out capris, a black apron, and a nametag with her name written in the same crude scrawl as the sign out front. It’d been a few years since Frogg had seen Liz in person instead of the newspaper or videos on various news sites. So it floored him a bit how much older she was now. Didn’t she just graduate from high school not too long ago?

He remembered Voltar gushing about Liz graduating as class salutatorian as if she was his younger sister.

“I’m doing great!” Liz continued with a small and genuine smile. “You got the invite for Tiff and I’s wedding, right? You better RSVP. Soon.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Voltar flapped his hand. “I saw the many, many links for your wedding registry. I haven’t RSVP’d yet because I’m working on getting that-”

“Don’t tell me what you ordered! It’ll ruin the surprise.” Liz squealed. “I have something fantastic in mind for your birthday later this year too. You better keep that day open if you know what’s good for you.”

“I have it marked on my planner. Whole day is open.”

“Good.”

“So, we have this coupon….” Voltar pointed towards Red and not so subtly shifted his gaze towards the thin strip of paper in Red’s big hand.

“Yeah, yeah.” Liz returned the sass Voltar dished out less than a minute ago. “So, I’m getting the vegan sandwich for him.” She pointed at Red. “An extra meaty sandwich for him with extra provolone cheese.” She pointed at Frogg. “And you want the meatball sub with the works?”

At that, Voltar gasped and his antennae started shaking with his excitement. “You guys have that extra spicy mustard?!”

“Of course!” Liz nodded, but her cheerful disposition immediately turned sour. “I skimmed the 4-page essay you sent me about it.”

When Voltar whooped and started doing a victory dance in the middle of the restaurant, Frogg visibly shuddered and looked around Red to see if any other stools were open.

“You’ll be happy to know you’re not the only one that has a weird fascination with that mustard.” Liz sighed. “There was a weird woman in here the other day raving about it too.”

“From now on, I’m the only one getting that mustard here!” Voltar declared with an anime gesture fist to the air. “I get exclusive rights to it. Exclusive.”

“I still think you’re the only one that actually likes it,” Frogg said. “I don’t-”

“Don’t. Get. Him. Started.” Liz jabbed a finger in Frogg’s face for emphasis on each word and matched the points with a warning glare.

“How did you know what sandwiches we wanted?” Red tilted his head. “Are you psychic?”

“No.” Liz placed her hands on her hips. “Voltar writes about you guys on his blog.”

“You have a blog….” Frogg scratched his scalp. The past 5 minutes had revealed a lot about a side of Voltar that Frogg didn’t know much about, except for the spicy mustard obsession. Metrotown might not know that L.O.S.E. existed but random strangers definitely knew how particular Voltar was about his condiments.

“It’s not a blog! It’s supposed to be a newsletter…” Voltar grumbled.

“I told you that Zitter would get more reach,” Liz said with a self-satisfied smirk.

“I’m hungry. Can we place our orders now?” Voltar deliberately looked anywhere but Liz’s face.

“SANDWICH ARTIST GENE!” Liz yelled. ���Order up!”

That’s when a painfully familiar face appeared at the order window in the kitchen. There was a surprisingly jovial Justice Gene with a wrinkled paper hat sitting on his head at an awkward angle. He had a couple of deep shadows under his eyes but otherwise, he had a legitimate smile on his face instead of the haughty, try-hard smirk Frogg was used to.

Liz rattled off food service industry shorthand that Frogg would never be able to translate despite his best efforts. Then Gene looked up a moment later. Recognition flashed across his face and Frogg was tapping his claws in a vain attempt to prepare the laser engraver setting he installed there a few days ago. Maybe it could be used as a laser gun with the right angle and a little imagination.

“Hey guys!” Gene said, emulating the friendly and personable air that came naturally to Red Menace but was really awkward on him. “Didn’t expect to see you at opening week of my new restaurant. I’m happy you’re willing to bury the hatchet to support a budding young entrepreneur!”

“I don’t know about young…” Frogg muttered under his breath while thinking about the gray hairs he’d pulled out of his scraggly tree of hair earlier this morning.

“What’s the catch, Gene?” Voltar snapped. “We haven’t seen you in almost a year and now you’ve lured us out with delicious subs. I demand to know what you’re planning!”

“There’s no catch,” Gene said. “I just got tired of not getting anywhere in the hero biz. Even for the five minutes I was a hero, I was still the guy that cleaned toilets and picked up fancy coffee orders. It was worse with an official costume because even though I’d technically made it, nobody respected me. I think you guys of all people know what that’s like…”

Both Gene’s personal account and the way his face fell struck an unnervingly deep chord with Frogg. The mix of sympathy and existential dread hit his heart hard enough it felt physical. He looked down and saw himself gripping the fabric of his lab coat right over his heart.

“The one thing everybody liked were my sub sandwiches.” A dreamy expression drifted onto Gene’s face. “The only time I got a real compliment from Glory Guy was for my magic touch with the panini press. I got demoted to trash collector one day and just started thinking ‘Is this the rest of my life?’ As I spent the day collecting trash, all I could think about were sandwiches. How sourdough is the king of bread. Flatbread is a perfect base for a classic BLT. I realized then: Instead of a superhero, maybe my calling is...making the perfect hero sandwiches for superheroes!” Gene gave an awkward laugh. “And everybody else, of course! Villains included. Everybody deserves a good, home-made sandwich.”

“I didn’t ask for your life story, Gene,” Voltar scowled.

“I’m so happy for you!” Red gushed and his affirmation drowned out Voltar’s snark. “You deserve to be happy. I hope you’re successful!”

Gene’s face was red and he bashfully ran a hand through his hair. “Thank you.”

****

[cherokeegal1975]

Unexpected Cargo: Free Book Online

Johnathan was a family man and cargo runner and had no interest in getting entangled in royal affairs. So, when a deposed and fleeing princess arranges a meeting to give him a package to keep safe, he was reluctant to take it. But she convinced him to hide the royal seal until she needed it back despite himself. Unknown to him, she had also ticked him into carrying another precious cargo.

When Johnathan learns of the trick, he’s furious. When he confronts the princess about it, he learns it’ll be impossible to return it before it’s appointed time. Then she tells him of an unbreakable bond between them and ends a long search for someone he had lost as a boy. So, instead of revenge, he does what he can to help her. He must also avoid capture; the King would execute Johnathan if he ever found out about his secret cargo.

Links to chapters here:

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 1 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 2 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 3 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 4 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 5 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 6 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 7 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 8 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 9 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 10 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 11 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 12 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 13 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 14 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 15 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 16 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 17 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 18 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 19 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 20 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 21 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 22 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 23 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Ch. 24 by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Unexpected Cargo Epilogue by CherokeeGal1975 on DeviantArt

Author's note: Okay, so I'm posting this again. I really want to know your opinions. I'll appreciate a critique if you're willing to do that. Constructive criticism will be welcome too.

I'm looking for a range of opinions and thoughts from a lot of people. I want to get a feel for how well I did with this book and I can't do that with a small group of people. As in only a few have made comments, it's hard to get a real idea of how well I really did. So, a broader range is needed. I'm looking forward to reading your comments.

I believe that I did a good job overall, but it's nice to get some perspective.

This book is an mpreg, but only because I went on an online dumpster dive as far as stories. I found that I didn't like most of what I discovered, though it was worth exploring just for the sake of my curiosity. I was inspired by it too. Thought I'd like to try to do my own version just to see if I could do better. And that led to my experimental plot, to turn what most people make into a plot stinker into a good story.

There is no fetish anything in this book. That I avoided intentionally. The main three protagonists are a cargo runner, a dragon that spends a lot of her time in the form of a little girl and a lovely talking golden rat. There's a fourth traveling companion that is of a romantic interest for my main character...with some small complications in their relationship.

I did my best to make a well-balanced plot overall. And I'm not going to give out any more spoilers than I have already.

So...feedback please! I rarely get any and all of it is appreciated very much.

Cover art by Noonibean, who is also a good writer and worth looking up on DeviantART.

[loveandthings11]

How Deep My Love Goes, Chapter 8

Read on AO3 Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7

Dusting

Kendall’s eyes are still closed, but he smiles as he hears their bedroom door open.

“It’s 12:30 in the afternoon,” Rava says with a flirty put-on scold in her voice as she walks in and sees the sun peeking around the blackout shades.

“Uh huh,” he mumbles into the pillow. “I knew you’d be back.” She laughs and he opens his eyes a crack. “How long was that?” He asks. She crosses her arms and shakes her head. He can see the flush on her face. “Come on. How long?”

She tries not to grin too obviously and looks away.

“Two hours. Okay? But I got a lot done!”

He smirks at her.

“Sure.”

“I wanted to… see what you were doing.”

“Good. Come here,” he says.

“And I wanted to ask if you’re ever going to get up,” She says, like it’s a silly act. They both know what she’s doing here.

“Are there waffles?” He rolls over onto his back and she glances at his shoulders, his chest, the soft t-shirt he’d put back on when she’d gone into her office earlier. He gives her a sleepy smile and she wants to be in those arms again.

“No… no waffles,” she answers slowly.

“Then no, I’m not getting up,” he replies. He lazily looks her up and down, notices the way her filmy shirt is almost sheer enough for him to see through. “Come back to bed.” He reaches his hand out from under the blankets and she takes it. His bedroom voice has always been irresistible.

“Ken,” she smiles as he pulls her into bed and up against him. “At some point you have to get up.”

“No, you have to stop getting up,” he says. He looks at her from two inches away. “Which one of us is regretting our decision?” She chuckles silently in feigned disapproval like she used to when he’d convince her to skip class to stay in bed with him. He smiles as he can feel her melting into him for the third time since last night, breathing him in like she needs him. It’s true. The walls are down and she hasn’t been able to get enough of him. Making up for lost time has become their passion. She presses herself into him, feeling the way his arms wind around her and keep her warm. Hot.

“Um, I also wanted to ask if you’ve decided about family therapy- so we can plan,” she ventures before she can’t think anymore.

“What do you have on under this?” He mutters, sliding his hands under her shirt.

The bedroom marathon is an effective avoidance tactic. Kendall’s been ignoring the therapy invitation for the last two days. He’s also been ignoring all the endless requests for comment on the relapse story in favor of trying to stop Rava from getting out of bed for any reason.

She’s been majorly enjoying their sexy reconnection, but she can’t help but notice his lasting unwillingness to go out and the slow, sad way he blinks down at the floor when he thinks she isn’t looking every now and then. She knows he’s still feeling terrible about losing his job and about the fake relapse article, and it’s made her lose what little patience she had ever had with the tabloid press. The other day, she’d picked up his phone when she’d seen a journalist from a more reputable paper pop up on the screen while she thought he was sleeping.

“Of course he’s still sober,” she’d snapped quietly. “You and I both know the Post is full of lies, just like its owner. Maybe you should be the only one to report the truth.”

Kendall had pretended not to hear, but he’d smiled as she laid down next to him that night and he had wanted to stay as close as possible to her ever since. When her words had made a headline, he’d taken screenshots and saved them to his favorites.

He kisses her neck and knows she’s his now. She sighs contentedly into his hair as the feeling takes her over.

“Goddddd. I take back what I said the other day about you finding a new career,” she murmurs. “You should stay here in bed so I can come see you on my lunch breaks.”

“So, that makes me your what- your sex toy?”

“Are you volunteering?” She asks in the sassy way that drives him crazy.

He gives her a mock-serious look.

“Volunteering? You’re not even paying me? While I don’t have a job?”

She laughs out loud at his unexpected humor about such a dark situation. His self-deprecating jokes are few and far-between, but they get her every time. He bites his lip. There is nothing sexier than when she’s laughing at his jokes. She pretends to be just as serious.

“And what would I pay you with? My husband is unemployed.”

He chuckles and slides down a few inches.

“I mean, you know, waffles would be good.”

“Okay. I’ll pay you in waffles.” She plays with his hair a little bit.

He looks up at her with her favorite smile-smirk.

“Now?”

“Such a demanding sex toy.” She rolls over to get up for a very late breakfast and he pulls her back into his arms.

“No, don’t get up,” he insists. “Just… stay here. I want to lick syrup off you. Text Chef. He’ll bring it.”

“You know, I was working before,” she teases.

“This is important,” his muffled voice comes up from under the blanket where he’s nestling his face in her chest. She gives in, reaching for her phone to order brunch in bed. “You showed me that article about how physical contact can extend your life, like, ten years ago. I’m just looking after you.”

“Wow,” she laughs. “So you were listening.”

“I always listen to you,” he says, thinking of her heartfelt words from their talk. Even after seeing him at his worst, lower than anyone else would ever know, even after losing her for the exact reason he was always terrified he would, it turns out that she loved him through it. She’s still in love with him, she still remembers sweet moments from all the phases of their life together just the way he does. Hearing how lovingly and positively she really thinks of him has been the best confidence booster he could imagine. Maybe she doesn’t think of the bad things as often as he feared. He’d felt so alone for so long, and even after they’d gotten back together, he’d felt like they were one fight away from having it all crumble again. After their talk, he finally feels like it’s real. He’s done enough therapy to know that insecurities don’t just disappear, but they can shrink with time. With love.

Every time he starts worrying again, it seems his thoughts get quieted by hearing another sleepy “I love you” when he thought she was already asleep, by getting pulled into acting silly at a nightly family dinner with the kids, by her smile at him when he looks up from his latest management book, and by the way she lays her head on his chest just to make sure his heart isn’t beating too fast. He sees Sophie and Iverson seeing it all and is so grateful that this is their new normal. So grateful it’s his new normal.

The way she’s wrapping herself around him makes his entire body buzz. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be loved emotionally and physically at the same time. He doesn’t want to let go of her ever.

She looks at him and they twinkle at each other. He had worried that it was impossible, but now he feels like the best parts of the past are finally overtaking the worst. Now when he looks around the bathroom he doesn’t shrink at the memories of her scoffing at nosebleeds or hear their yelling echoing off the marble. He sees his nervous first day as COO a few years back, when she’d looked at him in the mirror and said he looked so sexy in his new suit that she was going to need him to play boss right there before he left. He’d walked out an hour later feeling like he could do it. He sees the nights when the kids would have sleepovers away and she’d light candles by the bathtub and tell him they should really enjoy the stunning view. He always did. She’d look into his eyes in the mess of bubbles and neither of them even had to speak.

He’s looking content just thinking about it and she’s so happy to see his genuine smile that she kisses his cheek and smile creases just to feel them for herself. It fills his head with memories of their early years and makes him feel like he’s floating on air. She has a way of making the weight on his shoulders lift off, of pulling him out of the currents.

She closes her eyes as she tucks his head under her chin. She’d hoped all that time that they could find this place again. She couldn’t find it on the map for a while, but now that she’s back, she never wants to leave. It’s even more beautiful than she remembered. Her face hurts from smiling.

She looks back down at him and whispers, “I told Chef to bring extra syrup.” He looks hungry for more than waffles.

……………..

The fire in the family room’s fireplace crackles as they sit together after dinner. The kids are watching cartoons on YouTube on the other side of the room and Kendall’s watching the fire. Rava looks at him and thinks now might be a good time to ask him again about the dreaded therapy retreat.

“Ken,” she starts. “Are you going to-“

“I don’t know,” he sighs. “I- just can’t deal with Roman.” His eyes widen. “Or Dad. Fuck.”

She glances at the kids and gives him a look.

“Yeah, sorry.” He forgets to keep it PG sometimes. “That’s a bad word,” he says unconvincingly in the kids’ direction. They’re not paying attention.

“Roman must be feeling bad,” Rava almost asks him.

“Uh, maybe. He might be glad we’re done.”

“I doubt that,” she says. She tilts her head to look more closely at him. “And you’re not done.”

He shrugs.

“He could’ve backed me and he didn’t. Like… that was his choice. I mean, he has to live with that now.”

She’s quiet. She’s always been aware of how much the brothers need each other. He reads her face.

“But you think I should go.” He shifts and looks at her for confirmation.

“Well, it might be a good thing to patch things up sooner rather than later, right? Your dad is… something else. But at least with Roman.” She knows he would regret losing that relationship.

He sighs.

……………..

The car rolls over the New Mexican road as Kendall and Rava look out opposite windows at all the open space. It’s uncomfortable after so much time in the city, after staying in the apartment for over a week. It feels exposed. They’re sitting sideways in the SUV so she can lean back on him with his arm around her. She knows it helps him feel less stressed when she lies on him. It had been difficult to hear the terrible questions the waiting paparazzi had had for him the moment he’d walked out the door and he’d almost turned around and gone back in.

“This is weird,” she says. “I can’t believe you’re really going to therapy with them.”

He drums his fingers on her arm and stares at nothing.

“Yeah. Me neither. Maybe we should stop, you know. No reason to rush.”

They’d just had an early dinner at a roadside diner. Kendall made a face when they walked in and she playfully nudged him and fed him bites of grilled cheese as they sat on the same side of the booth. She threw a fry at him and he looked at her disapprovingly before looking around and deciding to toss one her way. It landed on the floor in front of some other people walking to a table. She laughed quietly and he noticed them glaring.

“Sorry about her,” he said with a smirk.

“Really??” She threw another one at him and he ducked and gave her a devilish grin. “I’m not talking to you,” she said. She turned the other way and pretended to ignore him. She could feel his eyes on her.

“It’s so hot when you pretend you’re not obsessed with me,” he said in a low voice as he turned her around and kissed her and a few people looked over.

The waitress rolled her eyes when they shared a milkshake, but they just laughed and whispered like they always did when they went out. Sometimes they really couldn’t help themselves. Some things never change.

Since they’ve gotten back in the car, he’s been getting more and more concerned about seeing his family and she knows he’d be looking for any reason to delay arriving. She can tell he’s thinking of nothing but the vote and the article now and it’s infuriating him more than it was before.

“Where would you want to stop?” She asks.

“I don’t know.” From behind his sunglasses, his eyes follow the pub they’re driving past and she glances at it.

“Well, not there!” She tries to turn it into a joke and he tries to snap out of it.

“Right, yeah. Not there.”

She takes his hand that’s slung over her shoulder.

“Well, we’ll be at the house soon, won’t we?” She asks.

“Yeah.” He pauses. “Actually, I have no idea. Everything looks the same here.”

“Are you nervous? Because I kind of am,” she admits with a small laugh. It’s true and she wants him to know he’s not alone.

“I don’t know. I, uh- I mean, I guess. I might actually kill Dad, so, maybe.” His tone has no humor. She can feel the seething under the low-key exterior he’s projecting.

“Can’t blame you,” she says.

They sit in silence for a minute while he considers what might have happened just now if she weren’t here

“Do you know how fucking terrible this would have been without you?” He says. “I don’t even know what I would’ve…” She tries not to give away how much the trailing off worries her. “…I’m glad you’re here.” He wraps both arms around her from behind.

“Me too.” She looks back at him with concern in her eyes and he pretends he didn’t see it. She feels his anxious state and wants to do something to make them both feel more confident when they get there.

“Hey,” she says brightly all of a sudden. “You know what we need right now? T.I.”

His laughter breaks the tension.

“What? You don’t remember T.I.”

“Track three on Kendall’s Jamz iPod playlist 2004?” She says. “You don’t think I picked up the words?” She picks up her phone. “Play ‘Bring Em Out.’” He’s giving her an amused look as the music fills the car.

“You know, like one verse of this, max. This is my shit.”

“Actually, I think I might be a better rapper than you now.”

“Fuck off, not possible. But okay, sure. Rap for me.”

She looks back and raises her eyebrows at him. Even when he’s joking, it’s still insanely hot when he casually drops a command like that. She goes for it and surprises him by knowing every word of the party anthem. He’s shaking his head and smiling.

“How long did you sit around working on this?” He calls over the chorus, smirk all over his face imagining her studying the song lyrics in front of her laptop after the kids had gone to bed.

“Please, you didn’t turn this song off for two years!!” She yells back. “Are you telling me you don’t know the words?”

“Of course I know the fucking words-“

“Well?”

He shakes his head again.

“Fine, fine.”

He looks at her and they smile. They’re both thinking the same thing.

The song sounds like 23, sounds like Kendall and Stewy yelling “I can’t hear yooouuuu” at the top of their lungs in the VIP booths with Rava and her friends and Stewy’s models laughing hysterically over endless bottles of Belvedere. It sounds like afterparties at Kendall’s apartment, sounds like coked-out Kendall pulling Rava into a marble bathroom the size of a museum exhibit and ripping a $7000 minidress off her body as she’d squealed. He’d buy her another one tomorrow. It sounds like lifting her onto the sink so he could watch in the mirror. Like ordering her to leave the heels on and listening to her breathe out filthy thoughts in his ear. The words were rare for her back then, too, and it’s the only time he heard them from her lips. He was a bad influence and she liked it. It drove him crazy to know what was really in her head when she glanced up at him while she was reading in her button-up shirts during the day.

The song sounds like the times he laughed when the paparazzi called out that Logan would hate this, when he rolled his eyes and called out that they could fuck off and led an entourage of twelve into a stretch limo with flashing lights the paps could see through the tinted windows. She’d held his hand and smiled as she thought how rebellious and unbelievably exciting he was.

It sounds like the time he’d done a line off Rava’s thigh in the limo and told her they were going to be on the cover of US Weekly while everyone cheered them on. He’d rolled back the sunroof and stood up to make out with her with their heads outside the car. She’d playfully screamed while the paparazzi cars had swerved around them and the wind had blown through her hair. He’d been right about the cover. Waystar’s head of PR had called him so many times the next day that he’d turned it into a drinking game while Rava slept in his t-shirt til 2:00 PM. When she’d worried about the angry calls from her proper and scandalized parents, he’d said she should ignore them. She’d thrown her head back and laughed because she’d never thought of that before.

It sounds like not caring what anyone thinks. It sounds like freedom.

She looks at his sweater and smiles. Circumstances change, but she knows that guy’s wild spirit is still in there. The second verse starts and they both have every bit perfectly. The car turns onto the driveway and Kendall looks out the window at Roman standing outside. He leans toward the driver.

“Hey, can you turn it up?” She’s watching his transformation to his old more confident self. The car vibrates with the beat and she starts chuckling at the absurdity of their impending entrance in the middle of the desert. The car rolls to a stop and the driver opens the door with the music still blaring. She slides out the same side as him so they can both be ridiculous. He walks toward the house with her on his arm like they used to walk into the club with the cameras flashing and the whole line staring.

Roman’s been waiting for him, hoping to catch him early and talk about the no-confidence vote fiasco.

“Wow,” he says to Kendall. “You’re even more annoying than usual. Seriously, are you gonna talk to me?”

Kendall walks by like he’s not there and Rava snorts with laughter as she holds onto his arm and they walk into the house. She’s willing to give up a little dignity to see this version of him.

“Rava, you’re making him worse!” Roman calls after them. The door shuts behind them and he can hear her laughing. She knows they can talk later and she’s having too much fun.

Kendall’s still serious and keeping his sunglasses on. He glances at her.

“Okay. We did need T.I.”

“I thought so. Are you going to take your sunglasses off or are we going full T-Pain?”

He sighs as he pulls them off. He swallows hard and looks around. The ego fades quickly.

“Yeah, actually I don’t know if I can do this. I-I told you we should’ve stayed home. Or- the car. That was good, let’s just leave, you know, we could do more of that.”

“It might be better than you think,” she says in an upbeat voice. “Connor’s here, let’s at least go find him before you decide.” She takes his hand and he reluctantly walks with her down the hall.

Connor pops his head out of a room at the sound of their footsteps.

“Hey! You’re here!”

He’s so warm and happy that it changes the whole worried mood. He walks out and hugs Kendall before turning to Rava.

“Rava! I’m so glad you’re here. You two are so cute. You know, I’m so glad we both found love like this, Kenny.”

Kendall raises his eyebrows.

“Uh, yeah, absolutely. Me too.”

“Honey!” Connor calls loudly into the room. Willa walks out looking a little distracted.

“Hey, guys. Glad you could make it.”

“Willa’s just agreed to move in with me here!” Connor’s so excited. Rava takes one look at Willa and knows exactly what’s going on.

“Really! Wow, there’s a change from the city,” she says.

“Yeah… but Con says he has those Starbucks coffee pod things, so… it’ll be great!” Willa couldn’t sound more like she’s trying.

“Definitely. Well, you and I will have plenty of time to chat while these two are in session!” Rava’s enthusiasm is almost as feigned, but she knows all this is necessary. She turns to Connor. “For now, is our room-“

“Yeah! Right down the hall.”  He points and Kendall and Rava head down the hallway. “Seriously, I’m so happy you guys are here. I knew you’d have to come see me eventually.”

When the door shuts behind them, they look at each other and chuckle.

“I’m so glad he found love,” Kendall says sarcastically.

She makes a face and laughs as she shakes her head.

“Well, don’t you feel better that he’s going to be there too?” She asks.

“I guess. I mean, Roman’s there, though, so… and Dad, obviously. Fuck. I’ll just tell the therapist I only talk to my older sibling. Shiv’s probably been turned anyway.”

“I don’t know, after what your dad just did to you, she might have been pulled toward your perspective.”

“Sure. Maybe.”

Connor’s voice comes through the hallway.

“Okay, everyone! The therapist is here!”

Kendall freezes up and she takes a step over to him. She gives him a hug and she can feel how tense he just got.

“Hey,” she says softly. “You don’t even have to stay. If it’s bad you can walk right out again and come back down the hall and I’ll be right here and we’ll go. And if it’s better than you think, then you’ll still come right back here. Oh- and, um, maybe bring up the kids. You know, Sophie was pretty upset, so…”

He hates that Sophie was affected by the article with every fiber of his being. He nods.

“Yeah. Okay. I’m gonna go kill them.”

“Right, that is the right attitude to have when going into therapy with your family.”

There’s a ghost of a smile and then he’s out the door.

……………..

“Yeah? Fuck you, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Rava looks up instantly at the rare sound of Kendall defending himself. His footsteps get closer to where she is on the patio with a very uncomfortable Willa and a defiant Marcia. It’s getting dark and she gets up immediately. He’s the only person in this house she actually cares to talk to, and no matter what happened in there, she’s looking forward to being alone with him in their room.

He looks incredibly stressed as he gives them a nod.

“Hey, Rav, can we-“

“Yep. Bye, guys.”

She rushes away with him down the hall. The second the door closes behind them he sits on the couch and she sits right across from him in the chair. He takes a shaky breath.

“That was… difficult.”

“What happened??”

“Uh- Shiv was actually on my side. She knew the story wasn’t real.” He pauses and takes another quick breath. “Dad didn’t give a fuck and admitted he made it up. And he didn’t care about Sophie, obviously. He said I gave him no choice.”

Rava stares at him.

“Does he even hear himself when he speaks?” She asks. He looks stiff and too tightly wound as he shrugs, his shoulders barely moving.

“Connor was pissed too, but Roman was still just too scared to say anything, really.” He looks at her and shakes his head. “I tried to get him out with that vote. I did. And I tried here, I even fucking… talked to him, tried to tell him what’s going to happen if he sticks with Dad. But he’s not going to listen while Dad’s in the room, so, I don’t know.” He looks down and takes in a shallow inhale. “I think he’s gone, you know, he’s- he’s going to get stuck under Dad’s thumb and I can’t stop it. Like, it sounds fucking stupid but I thought if I could talk to him maybe I could- save him. Roman will believe anything Dad says. I didn’t want him to just end up…”

“What? Like you?” She feels so sad that he thinks like this. “Oh, you’re his big brother, I’m sure some part of him is doing this because he wants to be like you.”

He shakes his head.

“Yeah, I really don’t think so. He just wants to take everything I worked for and he won’t believe it’s all for nothing.” She gives him a look of protest. 16 years of work couldn’t be for nothing. “He’ll get fucked, too. Couldn’t save him from that.” He tenses up further. “It was stupid anyway.”

She looks at him sadly.

“Wanting to save him isn’t stupid.” She can relate to the impulse. “You know how your dad intimidates better than anyone. Roman’s probably freaking out and regretting it.” She thinks back to all the times over the years she’d suggested Kendall get out and how he just couldn’t imagine it. “Well, you know best- it’s hard to leave when you feel like you have Logan’s approval.”

He looks so upset that she wishes she hadn’t said that. It takes effort for him to exhale and she notices as she realizes what he's thinking.

“Ken, he’s not going to replace you.” His face falls and she knows she just found the bottom of the pit. The idea that Roman could become the new him, the new favorite son, is making him sick. She reaches for his hand. “What happened at the end there?” She asks cautiously. He’s struggling to get the words out through the stress.

“Dad- Dad called Shiv a coward and she started crying. I told him to shut up and he said -he said I’m too fucked on drugs to have an opinion, I’m nothing, nobody. I just- didn’t want to listen to his shit anymore.”

Rava’s mouth falls open. Somehow she always manages to block out the extent of Logan’s cruelty until it’s staring her in the face. Kendall looks at her uncertainly. He still seems like he’s not feeling okay.

“It’s- you know it’s not true, about the drugs.”

“I know,” she replies. There’s no hesitation and he notices. She gives him a small smile. “I’m trying this new thing where I’m assuming the best.”

He gazes at her and slowly takes that in. He sighs a little.

“Yeah? Why can’t anyone else do that?”

Her heart breaks for him. She knows how much importance he places on what everyone else thinks.

She takes a few steps to stand behind the couch so she can massage his shoulders and try to soften the knots there. After a minute she leans over him from behind and slides her arms over his chest. She can feel the fast beating. He holds her hand over his heart. She hasn’t seen the level of sadness and anxiety that takes since the nights he’d come to see her on the verge of tears, holding her hand there so she’d know it was still hers if she wanted it. She walks around to sit down and put her arm around him and she can tell it’s still hard for him to breathe evenly. He runs his hands over his face.

“I fucking miss Xanax sometimes,” he admits. Though she knows the pills were usually taken in excess and sometimes crushed into lines, she knows they would help him manage how anxious he feels sometimes. He worries about the fact that he just said that. He doesn’t want her to think he’s going to get any of it, even though he really wishes he could.

“I know,” she says in a tone of understanding. “I can't stand that he does this to you.”

“Well,” he sounds strained. “You know, he's not wrong about being nobody now." She opens her mouth to object. "And he had it hard, and- I- I know he loves me, but.. he hates me.”

She inhales sharply. She can’t stand that he still feels the need to defend his father, especially when he feels like this. She takes a half-second to collect herself so she won’t start ranting against Logan.

“He was wrong. That job was not who you are." She pauses and he tries to process that. "And he doesn’t hate you,” she whispers. “That’s impossible.” He shrugs and stares down. “He just doesn’t know how to love, Ken.”

His eyes flit up and search hers like they do when he hears something he desperately wishes he could change. He knows she’s right and it makes him feel even more short of breath.

“You do, though,” she says gently. He holds her hand.

She puts her other hand back to feel his heartbeat again. Still too fast to be sitting still. She looks at him worriedly and he looks down before leaning into her. He’s tired of being needy. He wishes she needed him for once. She thinks how sweet it is that he always comes to her for comfort and he wonders if she’s sick of this yet. She knows it’s just a hard phase. Being there when Logan makes his life hellish is part of being with him, and she’s always been happy to be his safe place. But he thinks she probably wants more time away from him, he thinks he’s being exhausting.

Then he remembers his therapist’s words about not assuming negative thoughts in Rava’s head. “Listen to the words she says out loud,” she’d told him. “Watch her actions to find out how she feels.”

He thinks he’ll give Rava a break just to be safe and tries unsuccessfully to get a deeper breath in. She’s seen where the shallow breathing and racing heart can lead and she doesn’t want him to be alone for even a minute.

“Okay,” he says a little stiffly, trying to seem fine. “I’m going to change before we go to bed.”

“Wait a second,” she says quietly, pulling him closer to her. He gives in right away and they’re still for a couple of minutes while he tries to steady himself. “Everything’s okay. You’re safe, I’m here, this is real.” She can’t bear to see him suffer a panic attack. Even the memories of the few she’s seen over the years are enough to make her tear up. She hides her expression and keeps her arms around him gently, not too tightly, while she counts out breaths for the exercises that she remembers used to help. He slowly starts to return to normal over the course of some very long-feeling minutes. He tries not to think about how immediate the relief was from crushing up his old pills and taking a shot or three and he squeezes her hand as he pushes the thought away and takes some deeper breaths.

“Let’s go home tomorrow and get back in bed like yesterday,” she whispers in his ear. She rubs his back and feels a slight and effortful smile cross his face as he remembers that that is exactly where they’ll be a day from now. She kisses his cheek. “That was good.”

“Yeah,” he says. “That was good.”

“And it’ll be good again.” She feels a little guilty for encouraging him to attend therapy with the whole family. He wasn’t ready for that. Maybe the family just isn’t going to be able to get along. “You go change, I’ll be right here.” He takes a more relaxed breath.

He walks back toward the closet and Rava hears a knock at the door. She glances toward the bedroom before deciding to open it to at least see who it is. Roman stands there leaning against the doorframe and looking around uncomfortably. Rava puts her hand on her hip. Sometimes the protective instinct comes out when Kendall doesn’t need any more piled on him.

“Hi,” she says cooly.

“Um… hey. Yeah, so I know you must be plotting my death along with the-“ he puts on a British accent “-king of dramatic melancholy- and all, but I was sort of hoping you could take a break for a minute so I could…” His head rolls around and he sighs as he looks up at her from an angle “….talk to him.”

She knows enough to understand how hard it was for him to come here. She sighs too. She thinks it would be best for them to mend things.

“You’d have to ask him,” she replies. “But, seriously, Roman, you have to take it easy-“

“Yeah, yeah. I got it,” Roman says. He was in the session and he knows his brother. She gives him a look.

“I’m serious,” she tells him. He puts his hands up and rolls his eyes in a mock-surrender. He’s not here to spar.

Kendall walks out at the sound of their voices, pulling on a t-shirt.

“What are you doing here?” He asks Roman in a tone that means “get out.”

“I want to, fucking.. talk about this shit.”

Kendall walks up behind Rava and pushes the door shut over her shoulder. He shakes his head and she looks at him for a moment.

“Oh, now you feel bad for him?” He asks grumpily. She shrugs.

“I didn’t say that.”

He sits down on the couch in a sullen mood. Roman knocks again and Rava looks at Kendall.

“What?” He asks, expecting her to tell him which way to go.

“Nothing,” she says. “This is your thing, you do what you think is right. I’ll be in here.” She pats his shoulder as she walks into the bedroom and closes the door, leaving him to think for a second as he looks down at the coffee table. He walks over to the door and opens it, looking at Roman like he’s an annoying bug.

“Two minutes,” he says, returning to the couch.

“Fine,” says Roman, awkwardly perching on the arm of the chair across from him and crossing his arms. He takes in a breath. “I’m… sorry… about the vote.”

Kendall stares at him.

“Okay.”

Roman’s quiet for a second.

“Is that it?” Kendall asks.

“No, fuck. Just.. hang on.” Roman tries to get his thoughts together. “Um, Stewy really wants to talk to you. Like, he seriously won’t shut up about it.”

“Yeah, well. I blocked him.”

“Well, maybe undo that because there might be a way to fix things.”

“Fix things? Why would I believe that coming from either one of you?” Kendall scoffs.

“I mean, are you only going to talk to Rava and your army of assistants for the rest of your life?” Roman rolls his eyes.

Maybe.

“No.”

I also talk to the kids, he thinks.

“Come on. I’ve called you 300 times.” Roman walks the line between annoyed and conciliatory.

“Why don’t you just tell me what you think is going to undo what you did?” Kendall glares at him and he sighs and seems to shrink a little.

“Fine. Remember when Sandy Furness came to the office?”

“You mean before you got me fired? Yeah. I remember.”

Roman looks to the side anxiously. He wishes he could express how shitty he feels.

“What?” Kendall asks.

“Well, what was I supposed to do?” Roman seems to shrug with his whole body and starts pacing the room with his hands on his hips. “You weren’t there! And Dad was…” He squirms and looks away.

Kendall looks at him.

“And you need me to be there to do the right thing with Dad? Come on.” Roman can’t look at him and Kendall softens as he realizes what Roman’s saying. “Uh… wow, okay.” He didn’t realize his presence was so important to his little brother. Roman waves him off.

“I mean, fuck you, obviously I don’t want you around.”

Kendall smiles to himself for a second.

“Right. Well, you know I wanted to be there. I tried. But, I don’t know. Can’t do anything about it now.”

“Aaaaactually, maybe we can. I think- we might have an in. You might not like this, but Sandy’s in at Waystar through this shell corporation. He bought in when Stewy did.” Kendall feels a little queasy. Another betrayal by Stewy. “I think we should talk to Sandy.” Kendall’s surprised.

“We?”

Roman covers part of his face for a second as he looks up at him.

“Yeah. If you-“

Kendall raises his eyebrows and thinks for a second.

“Well, I’m not talking to Stewy,” he says.

“Fine, don’t. Just- come to Tom’s bachelor party. Sandy’s gonna be there, because he’s a disgusting creep apparently. Talk to Stewy or don’t, but you should at least try this. I mean, if you can handle yourself around all that bachelor party shit. It’s like… another fucking chance to try for the top job.”

Kendall looks at him. Maybe it really is a peace offering.

“I’ll think about it,” he says.

“Okay. Good.”

Roman turns to walk out.

“Hey, Rome?”

Roman turns around and sees Kendall smiling.

“Yeah, fuck off,” Roman says, walking out the door. He turns around. “But we’re good, though?”

Kendall nods.

“We’re good.”

Roman walks out and Kendall pushes the bedroom door open.

Rava looks up from where she’s typing on her laptop on the bed and sees a much happier expression on his face. He looks at her for a second and thinks about how nice it is that she’s only a few feet away these days.

“Hi,” he says, climbing into bed.

"Hi," she smiles as she sets aside the laptop. He glances at it.

"You're working now?"

"Oh, yeah... it's gotten a little intense. But that's for later. How was the talk? You look better!”

“I mean, you know, he’s Roman. But, uh, I do think you were right.”

She gives him a smirk.

“About what- everything? You’re surprised?”

“Okay,” he smiles. “I don’t have to tell you.”

“Tell me!” She pokes his arm.

“I think- yeah, maybe he's not actually in Dad's pocket.” He sounds relieved and she’s so glad. “And he might want to do another operation overthrow.” She raises her eyebrows. She doesn’t know about that, but she decides it’s the time to be supportive.

“Well, good. See?” She tilts her head to look at him with the kindness he loves so much. “No one’s replacing you. No one could do that.” She wants to see his little smile. There it is.

She would rather be done talking about business and the family drama now, and she’s sure he’s over it for the night too. He settles in next to her and the corner of her mouth turns up a little as she looks at him.

“You know, you were fun in the car earlier.”

He chuckles.

“That was fun. I kinda forgot that you’re okay at that,” he teases.

She quietly starts singing the first part of the song. “It’s hard to yell when the background’s in your mouth-” He shakes his head and pulls her onto his chest.

“Yeah, don’t get too full of yourself. You’re not on my level,” he says. She laughs as she looks up at him and he gives her a lingering soft smile. “I’m just really grateful you’re here. Tonight might not have been great otherwise.”

She squeezes his hand and puts on an overdramatic whisper. “Well, I couldn’t be away from you for two whole days.” He keeps smiling. Listen to the words she says out loud.

She moves her head to the left side of his chest, another not-so-subtle heartbeat check. Slow and steady. He closes his eyes. Her actions will tell you how she feels.

Chapter 9 💗

[dwarfsized]

tagged by the beautiful and amazing @aevallare thank you!!

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

9!

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

63,696

3) What fandoms do you write for?

it's all bg3 right now, but I've also written for critical role and the arcana (visual novel)

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1 - that's the kind of love ive been dreaming of (bg3, astarion/f!tav)

2- ain't it warming you (the world goin' up in flames) (critical role, jester/caleb)

3- Liebe ist Fürsorge (critical role, jester/caleb)

4- Fighting the Hurricane (critical role, jester/caleb)

5 - true colors shine in darkness and in secrecy (bg3, astarion/f!tav)

5) Do you respond to comments?

yes! i try to do the "comment when you upload the next chapter" thing but sometimes its been a while since the last chapter and i get embarrassed and just respond to everything in one big rush

6) What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

where i left Fighting the Hurricane probably combined with the (checks notes) 1+ year long update hiatus, i am coming back for you baby i promise. i have plans for it. i just. god. so much happened to me right as i was working on it.

7) What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of my fic ends happy (this will not always be the case, eventual AA!AU will be. well. i shan't say.) BUT, and this might just be because its my most recent finished work, i think new steps might end off on the most hopeful note.

8) Do you get hate on fics?

this has never happened to me and id love to keep it that way lmao

9) Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yes :) the only real posted smut ive got rn is that's the kind of love ive been dreaming of, but i have other smut in the works

10) Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Fighting the Hurricane doesn't count, really, but that's the closest we've got: its a Critical Role/Pacific Rim fusion.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i'm aware of

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope!

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i have nooooot, but i am not sure that the way that i write (terrible first draft and then editing for 1000 years) is very friendly to co-writing. I'm not against the idea at all though, its just. you know. i wouldn't want to torture a friend with the everything about me. maybe someday though!!

14) What’s your all time favorite ship?

in this house we multiship, peace and love. :) though honestly i made a joke once about retiring kira as an oc after bg3 bc of everything im putting her through after becoming so enamored with kirastarion so maybe that? sorry blorbo from my brain, enjoy the conciliation prize of elf dick.

15) What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

stares guiltily at Fighting the Hurricane ch 2, languishing on my wip pile. listen, i still fully intend to finish that story. i was doing cool stuff in there. the only problem is that my brain exploded while i was writing ch 1, and this wasnt supposed to be more than 2k words but i am myself, and i didnt use outlines then, so my notes are a mess.

also i cannot possibly underline enough the bit where my brain exploded. this is an exaggeration only in that none of it came out of my head, but i was Not Myself for a Long Time.

16) What are your writing strengths?

i think my internal monologue bangs. this is because i agonize over it.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

moving characters around in the space is like pulling teeth and i feel like a solid 30% of my editing is focused on that. getting someone from point a to point b elegantly and without it feeling like "astarion got up. he moved his feet. he sat down. he looked out the window" makes me feel like walking into the sea

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I like it when it makes sense! Why does this character use another language? Does the reader need to know what they're saying? Is the POV character unfamiliar with the language? Does the reader learn anything from this? If you don't have good answers, why do it?

I find tieflings really neat, and bg3 does the typical dnd thing of "tieflings are looked down on," without, like, doing much with tiefling culture. So Ive had Kira use Infernal as a shortcut to create familiarity with other tieflings, and use it to have private conversations bc why would anyone but tieflings and people living in The Hells know that language--this solves some problems for her! And it creates others.

19) First fandom you wrote for?

Naruto...... once upon a time i wrote shikamaru/sakura fic. i was going to make a joke about that being my actual first longfic but i just checked and it literally isnt, i worked on it for a year and if you dont count the in-text authors notes (it was a different time) the whole thing is shorter than true colors chapter 4.

can you imagine me, now, updating something for a year and it being less than 11k. lol. lmao, even.

20) Favorite fic you’ve written?

eldath's mercy is my darling right now who also scares me to death. update coming soon (this week? i hope?)

i will tag @simon-says-nothing and @raccooncrimes and @septemberskye and YOUUUU reading this if you want to do it, tag me if you do!!

[badbatchposts]

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Chapter 8

While on a routine mission for Cid, the Bad Batch encounter a woman fleeing from the Empire. Crosshair suspects her seemingly free-spirited, nomadic existence is actually a cover for something else, but struggles to keep his attraction toward her in check as their personalities and ideals clash.

Relevant tags: Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut (it finally starts getting spicy in a couple more chapters!), Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use

Chapters posted 1-2x weekly!

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6 l Ch. 7

Chapter 8 summary: The Batch learns a little bit more about Dara, but Crosshair is still suspicious, and he really doesn't like the way things are going between her and Hunter.

Chapter Notes: WE GET A LITTLE BIT OF LOW KEY SMUT, FINALLY. But it's a slow-burn so we have a ways to go before we really GET THERE. Content: 18+, masturbation, sexual fantasy

“So, you were formerly a linguist?” Several hours later, standing at the bar in Cid’s parlor, Tech picked up the earlier thread of their conversation. When they had arrived at Cid’s, a particularly bloated-looking Twi’lek had emerged from her office, giving them all a cursory glance before depositing a case of credits with their employer and gesturing magisterially to the Rodian, who followed him out the door. Hunter had met with Cid to hammer out the details of their next job, and they were now winding down the night in the empty dive, the Trandoshan having long since retreated to her back rooms.

“A long time ago now,” Dara replied, taking a generous sip of her drink. “That’s how I first got traveling. Doing fieldwork, studying lesser-known languages.”

“Fascinating,” Tech said brightly. No doubt he was looking forward to interrogating Dara on the finer details of some of her research. However, before he could continue, Echo interrupted him.

“What made you stop?” the ARC trooper asked.

Wrecker, occasionally the most emotionally intelligent among them, elbowed him, probably leaving a bruise. “I don’t think she wants to talk about that,” he scolded, in what would have been a whisper, if he had ever actually learned how to speak quietly.

Dara smiled, a little sadly. “It’s okay, Wrecker. It was the war. I just couldn’t convince myself that it was worth doing anymore. You know—around all that destruction and death, it was hard to keep believing that studying words really mattered.” She shook her head, as if trying to clear it of painful thoughts. “Then the war ended, and it didn’t seem like the Empire would be much interested in preserving the languages or cultures they felt were beneath them. They’d rather just wipe them all out.”

Echo gave her shoulder a kind squeeze, although his expression was serious. “You might be right about that. But there are a lot of us out there that think those people are worth protecting, too.”

Dara nodded, looking at the clone with some warmth, then shrugged. “Anyway, I don’t mean to bring the mood down. What about you boys? You fought in the war, obviously, but you’re not like the other clones. You’re all enhanced, you said? Let me guess…” She glanced at each of them in turn. “Extra brawn,” she gestured at Wrecker. He posed, flexing his muscles, with a grin. “And Tech… extra brain.” He beamed smugly at her. “Echo…extra mechanics?” The ARC trooper flushed a little, and she winked at him.

Dara’s eyes then lit on Crosshair. She nodded assuredly, certain of her assessment. “Extra asshole.” The others chuckled knowingly as the sniper glared at her.

Finally, Dara’s gaze made its way to Hunter, and she lifted her eyebrows flirtatiously, a small smile playing across her lips. “What about you then? Where are you hiding all those enhancements?”

Hunter’s own expression settled into an easy, charming smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”  

Tech adjusted his goggles and, either unaware of or choosing to ignore any subtext to their exchange, launched into an explanation. “He has significantly more perceptive senses than the average human, being able to see, hear, smell, and feel to a much keener degree, as well as being able to sense electromagnetic frequencies and combine all of this sensory input for the purposes of tracking.”

Dara gently bumped her shoulder against Hunter’s. “Sounds useful. In a lot of contexts,” she added suggestively. “How much can you sense, then?”

Hunter chuckled a little. “Let’s just say I know everything that happens on my ship.”

“Get a room,” Crosshair growled. Dara laughed and leaned over Hunter to reach behind the bar, helping herself to an unattended bottle of liquor. The sniper noticed that Sergeant gently hovered his hand across her lower back, guiding and steadying her as she popped back into her seat and began to refill all of their glasses.

One drink later—during which Crosshair eyed the pair darkly as Dara every so often let her hand rest on Hunter’s knee while she spoke to him, and the Sergeant repeatedly returned his own to linger on her back or at her elbow—the squad finally departed Cid’s, enroute to the Marauder to tuck in for the night before departing for their next mission.

But once they had exited the bar, before Dara could continue following the rest of the clones, Crosshair stopped in front of her, impeding her progress. “Wait. I need to talk to you,” he muttered.  

The others paused as well, looking at them questioningly. Dara sighed exasperatedly and gave them a shrug. “We’ll catch up.”

His brothers were barely out of sight before Crosshair pulled Dara into the nearest alley. He pinned her against the wall with one forearm across her chest. Dara hardly reacted, looking rather bored. “This isn’t talking,” she pointed out mildly.

Crosshair scowled. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but stay away from Hunter.” 

Dara rolled her eyes. He thought he must have been hurting her a little, but she continued to ignore the explicit threat behind his demand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Some people—normal people—just like to have a little harmless fun occasionally.” She quirked an eyebrow up. “Not you, I’m sure. But Hunter’s a big boy. I think he can decide for himself whether he wants to…” She paused briefly, running her tongue, ever-so-slightly, between her lips, as if savoring the words. “…play with me.”

The sniper snorted derisively and leaned closer, hardened eyes glued on hers. “Hunter couldn’t handle you.”

“Oh, and I suppose you could?” Dara murmured. Crosshair didn’t respond; he had realized that their faces were only inches away from each other, and for a moment all he could think about was the feel of her body pressed between himself and the cold, grimy wall. Unable to resist the impulse, he allowed his free hand to roam beneath the hem of her shirt, stroking with calloused fingers along the small of her back where Hunter had grazed her earlier. He gently traced upwards along her soft skin, noticing, with some surprise, as its smoothness was interrupted by the raised knot of a scar—not the subtle puckering formed by blaster fire that he had seen on her abdomen, but the welt left behind from a deep gash.

Crosshair could feel Dara’s fingers probing him similarly, tracing along the gaps between the armor plates at his waist. Neither of them looked away. Her lips ghosted along his jaw to his ear, and he felt the warm tickle of her breath as she opened her mouth to whisper to him.

“I’d rather fuck every other clone in the galaxy, starting with each one of your brothers, than be with you.”

With a determined shove and well-placed kick, Dara freed herself, stalking off toward the Marauder and leaving a momentarily stunned Crosshair alone in the alley before he finally shook himself and followed, trailing far behind.

By the time he reached the ship Dara was nowhere to be found. The others sat in the cabin, still chatting. Hunter looked at him disapprovingly as he joined them. “What did you do to upset her? She came in and went straight to the hold without even saying anything.”

Crosshair flared his nostrils angrily. “Me? She’s the one manipulating you.”

He expected the Sergeant to be irritated, or at the very least, broody. Instead, he grinned and elbowed Tech. “Looks like Echo’s not the only one a little sweet on her.” The ARC trooper turned pink, while Tech looked mildly amused.

Crosshair was infuriated, but before he could open his mouth, Wrecker weighed in, also smiling widely. It was so rare they got to torment Crosshair instead of being the ones subject to his taunting. “Well, obviously she likes me the most. I’m the most fun.”

“Oh, no,” Tech disagreed. “While our shared academic pursuits make her rather compatible with myself, the suggestiveness of her interactions with Hunter was quite substantial evidence in his favor.”

“It sure was. I’m counting on that,” Hunter contributed mischievously.

Even Echo couldn’t help teasing. “Hey now! I thought she and I had a bit of a moment back at the bar there.”

The sniper finally got a word in. “None of you are taking this seriously. We know she’s lying about something, and we don’t even know who she is! We can’t trust her!”

Hunter clapped him on the back good-naturedly, putting an end to the game. “Everything is fine, Crosshair. It’s just flirting. Nobody is letting her manipulate them. Things have been hard enough for us for a long time—it won’t hurt to relax and talk to a woman every once in a while. At least this one’s never shot at us.”

“Not yet,” he muttered darkly. His brothers ignored him, carrying on with some sort of debate on which of the women who had shot at them they would still sleep with and dealing out a deck of cards.

However, only a few minutes later, Hunter began to tense up. Crosshair eyed him suspiciously. The Sergeant had stopped participating in the conversation and was avoiding eye contact with the others, occasionally angling his head then holding still intently. The sniper had seen that gesture from him before: Hunter was listening to something. Suddenly, he became flushed and began shifting awkwardly in his seat.

“Are you alright, Hunter?” Tech queried.

The Sergeant nodded, throwing down his cards. “Just tired. Going to bed.” He disappeared into the bunkroom before any of them could reply.

Crosshair scowled and rose from the galley table where they were gathered, prowling toward the back of the ship. He stealthily crept up to the door of the cargo hold and paused, listening. While the sounds were well-muffled by the thick walls, he could make out a few stifled moans, then a gentle, drawn-out sigh: “Oh, Hunter…”

Heatedly, he punched the key to open the door and entered the dimly lit room. Dara was in her hammock, one hand moving beneath her blanket and the other wrapped in her own hair. As soon as he entered, she gripped the blanket tightly with both hands, drawing it up to her chin protectively. “Do you mind?!” she yelped, a little panicked. He liked that sound.

The sniper folded his arms. “Gotta do an inventory in here before we leave for the mission tomorrow.”

Dara looked ready to tear his throat out with her teeth. “Right now?!”

Crosshair didn’t answer, just smirked. She made a rude gesture at him and pulled the blanket the rest of the way over her head with an irritated groan. He puttered around the room quietly for a few minutes, waiting until the gentle rhythm of Dara’s breathing indicated she may have fallen asleep.

The sniper exited the hold and stripped off his armor, storing it carefully before heading to the fresher. Sighing, he turned on the shower and leaned one forearm against the wall, resting his head against it and letting the hot water temporarily melt his frustrations away as he focused on the problem at hand.

He didn’t trust Dara for one second, but he still couldn’t figure out what exactly she was holding back. It wasn’t just the Imperial shuttle, the gaps in her story. No, her confidence as she diverted the maintenance tech at the prison had been too practiced. She had said she was a linguist—a linguist with scars from blaster fire and what he suspected was either shrapnel or a stab wound, and that’s before the injuries he found her with.

Thinking of that last scar reminded him of the feel of it beneath his fingers, the knots and raised edges brushing up against soft skin and softer flesh. He felt himself grow hard as he realized he was standing in the exact position as when he’d had her pinned in the alley. Kriff, he had to admit that he wanted her. He’d wanted to take her right there against the filthy wall, make her forget the small touches and easy flirtation she and Hunter had exchanged at the bar.

Hunter. Dara had known he could hear her from anywhere on the ship. She’d been touching herself, moaning his name on purpose. She wanted Hunter to hear her, was toying with him, turning him on from an entirely different room. Whether because she truly wanted him, she wanted something from him, or simply because it was exactly what Crosshair had told her not to do. I’d rather fuck every other clone in the galaxy, starting with each one of your brothers…

Crosshair hated her.

He hated her, he distrusted her, and he wanted to watch her come undone underneath him while she screamed his name and begged for more.

That should be his name she was moaning.

Crosshair’s free hand tugged erratically at his cock, working himself while he imagined Dara whimpering, the whole of her exposed to him and at his mercy, her curves beneath his hands and his tongue in her mouth while he made her cum over and over again. His hands gripping her silvery hair by the roots, his teeth on her neck, her taste on his lips. Finally, he felt himself stiffen everywhere, letting out a strangled grunt before the sweet relief of his release flooded his senses and left him panting, still leaning on his forearm against the cool durasteel wall.

***

The moment Crosshair had finally left the cargo hold, lured away by her purposeful steady breathing, Dara had slipped her fingers back beneath the waistband of her pants, positioning her index and middle finger on either side of her clit and resuming the rhythmic, reliable back-and-forth that always got her there.

It was hard to believe the balls on that karking asshole. Inventory, she thought with a skeptical snort. More like listening at her doorway. Sure, she’d been saying Hunter’s name on purpose, half enjoying the fantasy, half interested in testing whether he could really hear everything happening on his ship. Of course, if that asshole hadn’t put her in such a foul mood outside the bar, then she probably would’ve just slept with Hunter to begin with, but once she’d gotten alone and the rage had subsided, she had thought, hey, why not toy with him a little, a bit of a tease never hurt with the build-up, she was stuck tagging along with the squad for a while longer, there would be plenty more opportunities to get the Sergeant alone. And kriff, she’d meant what she’d said to that asshole, there was nothing wrong with a bit of harmless fun, she had needs just like anyone else, and kriff knows she could use the stress relief and it had been a long while for her, not like she’d had much time or inclination or the options to try sleeping with anyone lately.

Dara felt any hint of pleasure slipping away as her mind raced back toward her anger, her worries, the reasons for her recent celibacy. Focus, focus. She tried thinking about Hunter again. Kriff he was good-looking. The tattoo, the golden-brown skin, the broad shoulders narrowing down to that fine waist, the strength of him. Even the broodiness, she liked a little darkness, that gravelly voice. There was something about his hands, too. The way she’d seen him playing with his knives earlier, spinning them expertly between his fingers. She started feeling the pleasure build up inside her again, her stomach fluttering a little. Yes, that was good, his hands, hovering at her back, pulling the knife out of his vambrace, adjusting the scope on his rifle, his fingers were so slender, precise, expert, inserting that stupid toothpick into his mouth—

NO. Wrong clone. Start over. Go back to the touches. She’d liked leaning over him at the bar, feeling his hand just barely grazing against her. How would his fingers feel against her skin? Rough callouses roaming up her hips to her waist, gently stroking her back, rubbing her scar, the way he held her down with his arm across her chest hurt so good and kriff the way he looked into her eyes stirred something in her, he was always looking at her so intently, glaring or with sneering amusement, just looking dangerous other times, he’d looked dangerous tonight, she’d wanted to reach up and trace that stupid tattoo circling his eye—

Kriff. He’d ruined this for her, that asshole. With a final, low grunt of frustration, Dara gave up any hope at finding satisfaction that night, choosing instead to stare at the ceiling of the cargo hold and think about her choices and where they had led her until she finally fell into an uneasy sleep.

Next chapter

Tag List: @stardusthuntress @skellymom

Dara used to be a linguistic anthropologist, but for aliens. A linguistic alienologist? I like to think she would be super into the Poletecs from the Bad Batch Clone Wars arc.

We also finally get some Dara POV! Her internal monologue is a lot.

[silverskye13]

6, 8, and 29 for the ask game

6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

Incarnate Inchoate -- underoriginal (unfinished)

Anything to Hear You (Say It One More Time) -- mgrnn

To Convey A Certain Brilliance -- Bee_4

Devil Town is Colder in the Summertime -- BananasofThorns

Hellfire -- Renwhit

[squints] I think that's every fic I've read more than once lol. I'm a Book Devourer so I normally just read a thing once really quickly and then promptly forget it exists. I Have Brain Like Swiss Cheese. AO3 bookmarks and digital libraries are the only reason I stay sane XD

8. What project(s) are you currently working on?

Redstone and Skulk Ch 20: ~ 1300 words, all of them from this week

Monsters Splitting Hairs Ch 28: ~ 2000 words, about 500 of them from this week

Unnamed Superhero AU with OverlordPink: No idea the word count XD less then 1000 I think

Before I Wake (original comic): Pg 27 finished, Pg 29 sketched

I keep a rotation so I don't get bored XD means overall less work on a single project gets done but! Everything gets done eventually.

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

Nobody asked for this but I have 5 chapters of Nailmaster's Folly [a Hollow Knight fic] I dropped, just done and languishing in my documents. I'm not going to subject you to all 5 of those chapters, but I will make you read the 2 I'm most proud of. So uh, here's a very out of context chunk from Nailmaster's Folly I guess.

Oro was halfway down the canyon when his guilt got the better of him and he stopped in his tracks. His insides were a tangled web, and no amount of grousing and grumbling to himself would soothe the knot it made. It bothered him a great deal, apparently, that Mato was scared of him. 

Was Mato scared of him? No… surely not. It had been years since -- and honestly Mato was so much more capable -- sure Oro was pretty abrasive but he wasn’t--!

Oro shook his head.

Maybe he’d misread. It had been years, years he’d been in his solitude and Mato had been in his. Maybe they were both just so extremely culture-shocked and awkward that he’d read it wrong. Maybe he was just tense because of how suspicious he was, because of how stubbornly he held onto the idea that Mato must be here for some kind of… retribution? But Mato was never the type for things like revenge. He believed in accountability, yes, but not maliciously so. All of this was ridiculous.

And he’d looked so happy cheering him on while watching his fight.

Oro groaned up at the sky.

Maybe, like just about everything else in his life, the problem wasn’t Mato. Maybe the problem was him. After all, Mato had invited him to join him after his fight was over, and Oro had just gone trudging off down the canyon without a second thought. He was always so… antisocial. Maybe if he actually gave Mato a chance…

He’d been living alone for a long time.

Oro sighed. He ran a hand across his mask, then turned and looked up the direction he’d come. He couldn’t see Mato among the cliff faces above, but he knew he was there. Somewhere.

“I hate this, you know,” Oro protested out loud to a nearby boofly, “You know how much easier my life would be if this weren’t my problem?”

Of course the boofly didn’t answer. It just bobbed its head and flittered its tiny wings frantically, its big black eyes looking back at him vacantly. Frustrated, Oro smacked it away with the flat of its nail, sending it spinning further into the canyon. Then, huffing another grumble of a sigh, he turned and began walking back up towards the Colosseum. 

“Mato, Mato, why is it always, always Mato,” Oro griped under his breath as he walked, “At least Sheo understood the basic concept of personal space. He knew how to leave me alone and not do stupid things like… like…! And he’s always so emotional it’s like trying to reason with a scared grub for Wyrmssakes--!”

He ushered to the air around him, as though the ambient noises of wind and hoppers and wings could grant him the validation he was looking for. Of course, none did. But the flurry of movement did attract the attention of a nearby primal aspid as it buzzed threateningly close to the canyon wall. And Oro, so lost in his grumbling, so lost in his slow progression up the paths of the cliffside, didn’t notice it’s presence until it was spitting bright orange in his direction. The flash of color was enough of a warning in his peripheral vision for him to lurch to the side in an attempt to dodge it - only for the scatter of its spray to catch him in the mask. Cursing, Oro staggered to the side, wiping furiously at the acid-like spit with his cloak. His shoulder caught against a nearby wall, and then abruptly Oro felt that wall give way behind him. 

There was an instant where he realized he was going to fall. An instant where he realized there was nothing he could do about it. An instant where he resolved if he didn’t go tumbling down the side of the canyon wall and crush himself against the ground, he was going to come storming back up here and cut the wings off of every aspid he laid his eyes on. And then, Oro promptly tumbled off the ledge he’d been standing on into whatever cavity had opened up in the wall behind him.

He’d expected to fall longer than he did. 

There were two, maybe three seconds where he was free-falling and it was incredibly dark, and his eyes still stung from the aspid spit. And then with a heavy oof! he landed hard on his shoulders on uneven ground, knocking the air out of his chest and leaving him wheezing rather ingloriously on the floor. When he’d managed to start breathing normally again, he felt around for his nail and once he found it, staggered to his feet. Above him, he could hear the echoing buzz of the aspid’s wings as it searched the hole he’d fallen through for any sign of him. As soon as it felt the cooler, wet air of the cavern he’d tumbled down, it turned back the way it’d come, hissing furiously.

“I hope you get eaten alive by something!” Oro shouted after it as it went, “Stupid, angry thing!”

If it heard him, it didn’t turn back to investigate.

With another frustrated sigh, Oro squinted into the gloom to survey his surroundings, finding mostly what he already knew - that it was dark in here. Some pale light filtered in from the hole he’d fallen through, casting the space immediately around him in washed out greys that very quickly faded into oppressive murk. The floor here was made of carapace and chiton, old and stoney. There was a smell of damp age about the place, like the air had been still and undisturbed for a long time, and there was a weight to it, like eyes in the dark. It felt very much like he’d stepped into someone’s grave, or just inside the toothy maw of some ancient carapace. If he weren’t so irritated, Oro might have even had the common sense to be scared here. 

Instead his shell itched and his stomach turned itself in angry knots, and he thought of course of course he would fall through some damp, dark, probably beast-infested pit while walking up to find his brother. Of course this would happen to him right now. It was always Mato wasn’t it? Always the source of his chagrin, even when he wasn’t trying to be. This might as well happen.

After standing still for a few minutes listening to the sound of moisture dripping off the ceiling and the hollow echo of droplets onto the floor, Oro’s eyes managed to adjust enough to pick out another source of light in the darkness. A dim light, so distant that for a moment he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. But no it was there - a curve in the tunnel ahead giving off the subtle hue of an outline. It was hard to tell just how far away it was. His depth perception wasn’t fantastic when he was near blind from darkness and aspid spit. It was hard to stop himself from blinking every few seconds to try and clear the remaining fumes of the acid away. Not that it would help at all.

Oro cast his gaze up the direction he’d fallen. It was a long, sheer stone face to climb. He was sure he could if he gave it enough effort. But it would be hard work, and all in pitch darkness until he was near the very top. And while he could, he definitely didn’t feel like standing at the base and calling for help for however long it might take for a bug to come this direction. He had a match to get to tomorrow, after all. And pride in his belly. So, stepping carefully on the uneven footing, Oro made his way towards the light he’d seen further in the tunnel. 

The sound of his own footsteps echoing in the silence itched at his nerves. He was loud and unwieldy, it seemed, and it made him paranoid that something might hear him coming, or try to ambush him. Swinging a nail in the dark was a dangerous idea. You never knew when you’d hit a wall, or perhaps even yourself, if your swing went too shallow.

When he reached the curve in the tunnel ahead he stopped, taking a moment to survey the slowly brightening light ahead of him. There was some bioluminescence here, sickly looking roots that sprouted in tangled patches from the ceiling, and reached like limp claws towards the horns of his mask. It was barely enough light to see by, and a pale shade-like purple. As Oro took a step down the lit tunnel, there was a soft hiss as the roots seemed to respond to his presence above. For a moment Oro crouched low, nail over his head, expecting the roots to reach for him. Instead he watched as they slowly shriveled and curled towards the ceiling, flattening themselves away from his touch. The light from them dimmed even further but remained.

Tch. Weird. 

Oro straightened again and, eyeing the ceiling suspiciously, continued walking, trying to ignore the creeping noises of moving roots above his head as he went. When he passed by them, the roots slowly unfurled themselves and dropped back down again, a curtain of slowly brightening claws guarding his exit. It was… unsettling... claustrophobic. He didn’t like the idea of walking into something that could sense his presence. 

Further down the tunnel he went, one hand on the wall as if afraid it might suddenly fall in on him, his other hand clutching tight-fisted around the hilt of his nail. It was incredibly still here, the air dead. Unlike the open hole he’d fallen into where noises attempted to echo, the sound in the tunnel ate itself up in the roots over his head, making his every movement seem muffled and abrupt. He checked his progress every handful of steps, making sure his way back hadn’t magically disappeared - and it hadn’t, though it was obscured by those twisting roots. Where in the Wyrm-cursed World was he even heading? Should he turn back? His sense of direction was tangled in the darkness somewhere, caught in the shifting roots over his head. He had no idea where this tunnel was or where it was winding.

There was a murmur… a soft sound on the edge of his hearing. Wait… what was that…?

Oro stopped walking abruptly and breath held, he listened. 

There was… a noise… coming from up the tunnel. Stifled and faint. It didn’t carry well here but he could still hear it; persistent and quiet, wafting toward him like mist. First it came in bits and pieces, but as he continued forward he made it out a bit more. Humming, haunted almost. A song...?

 Was there another bug down here? Maybe there was another opening somewhere then, some outward-leading tunnel he could scramble out of instead of trying to make the climb up the way he’d fallen. That would be grand. Sure, he’d be a bit lost when he got wherever he was going, but that was a problem for later.

“Teeth… and claws….”

“A mind of teeth and claws…”

Oro felt a creeping prickle of nervousness crawl its way up his shell. He didn’t like the sound of that. But he kept walking - he’d gone so far now it didn’t seem worthwhile to give up now. Besides, he was a strong bug with a great nail and enough light that, though it would be tedious, he could at least see a fight if it happened. And fight he would, if it came to it.

“Dreaming Wyrms, a bed of nails…”

“A hunger still beneath us wails…”

Just as he resolved this in his mind, the path before him yawned open into another opening. A cavern, smaller than the first he’d fallen into and tangled across the ceiling with more of those roots. Their thickness made their glow brighter, and some of them even managed to worm their way down from the ceiling and into the ground below, burrowing further into depth incomprehensible. It was probably a trick of his eyes but they seemed almost to pulse, faintly, that sick violet hue.

“A mind of teeth and claws…”

Oro noticed with a flash of horror like a lightning strike that the floor was covered in broken masks. Slashed cleanly in half. One eye broken. The ground beneath a slurry of crushed chitin and whatever moisture it was that dripped from the ceiling. It seemed nearly to be moving, breathing, churning beneath the fragile surface. A phantom of crawling legs shivered beneath Oro’s shell and he stumbled back a step away from the chamber, unable to stifle the choked noise that rose in his throat at the sight of it. In Hollownest there were many floors made of petrified chitin and old discarded masks. Resting grounds. Old battlefields. Place where once the life of the world was thick. This was fresh, moving, alive, grotesque. Wrong.

Crick. Crack. 

“Oh, hello Nailmaster.”

Oro snapped his gaze up from the floor to the center of the room. Standing in a circling of broken masks was the Announcer, seemingly unperturbed by the ground on which it perched, despite the fact that Oro himself could practically hear it’s writhing. The bug’s eyes glinted pale in the dim light, and silhouetted against a background of those burrowing roots, they looked both pitifully small and sinister, like some small weaver who just lured a bug into its tangled web of a lair.

“You may enter,” it said, a smile in its voice, “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Yeah,” Oro muttered, gaze sinking back to the floor, “And beasts don’t bite.”

The Announcer laughed, a thin, frail sound, like it was unused to the sensation. It turned its back to him, and Oro saw now entwined in the roots it stood near was… something. A shape he couldn’t quite make out in the dim light and the distance. Though the glowing roots were thicker here, their light was still low.

He should leave. Being here was… a bad idea. But Oro doesn’t run. Not from enemies. Not from his brother. Not from this.

Tentatively, shell still crawling with shivers and nerves, Oro took a step forward. He expected his foot to sink, for the mask to give under his weight and crack and sink into the slurry of mud and chitin below, but it didn’t. In fact, he couldn’t even feel the ground moving. Emboldened by this just barely, he took another step forward. And another. And another. Until he was standing just behind the Announcer, towering over the diminutive bug and staring down at what it stood before. 

It was… an egg? A large one, nearly as tall as the Announcer, and as high as Oro’s chest. It was hard to tell it’s color when the only light to see by was tinged in the bruised blue-purple of the roots above them. But it was an egg, large and spiked and cracked in half, whatever creature born inside it long gone. Inside the remains of the shell, there was a curling of sickly roots that spiraled about themselves before burrowing into the ground, thick and twisted. 

“Interesting, isn’t it?” the Announcer hummed, “Even here at the edge of the kingdom, Hollow Nest hosts its mysteries.”

“What in the Black Abyss is this place?” Oro asked abruptly, hoping the shortness of his tone sounded more angry than scared.

The Announcer shrugged, “A place of beginnings. A place of hunger.”

It tilted its head in his direction, “A place of nothing, perhaps, if that’s what you want it to be.”

“Well that’s gross and cryptic.”

“You’re doing well in the Colosseum, Nailmaster Oro,” the Announcer said, disregarding his grumbling and turning its gaze back to the massive egg, “The place seems to suit you. You have a powerful spirit, a strong sense of ambition.”

Oro squinted down at the bug and backed up a pace, “There’s a lot of strong bugs entered in the tournament.”

It hummed noncommittally in return, the sound not unlike the voice Oro had heard humming its way towards him down the tunnel, “I suppose. But strength alone doesn’t satiate the Colosseum, does it?”

It looked up at him again, those pale eyes glinting, “I always thought the Colosseum of Fools was an interesting thing. It almost seems alive sometimes. Watched after and hungry. It so loves a crowd, and it loves its Champions and legacies. God Tamer was its favorite for a long time, and it’s quite a shame the one who struck her down refused to stay. I’m sure it would have made an interesting Champion all its own.”

“It’s a Colosseum,” Oro snapped, irritated by how unnerved the conversation was making him feel, “It’s a bunch of bugs in the shell of an even bigger bug hosting a tournament for a prize. It’s not alive.”

“Of course not,” the Announcer chuckled patronizingly, its voice sickly sweet with a grin that didn’t find its way to its pale gaze, “After all, if it had its own voice, surely I wouldn’t be here.”

It turned away from him and finally moved from its spot before the rooted egg, “I do wish you luck, Nailmaster Oro. I did mean what I said about the Colosseum suiting you, sir.”

It stopped at the edge of the room where Oro could barely make out the gaping darkness of a tunnel - probably the entrance the strange bug had used to enter the place. It flashed him one last smile, this time showing those unnerving teeth, “And doesn’t Nailmaster Champion have such a glorious ring?”

Then with another of those curling, whispering laughs, the bug disappeared down the tunnel ahead of it, leaving Oro alone in the dark. With no one to watch him, Oro allowed himself a shudder. 

"This whole place is just a pack of shrieking belflies isn’t it?” he snarled under his breath. A pack of shrieking belflies indeed. All pretty noises and deadly dramatics. Oro shivered one more time and then, grimacing, dropped his gaze to his feet to figure out where best to step next - only to find the ground normal. 

What?

Oro glanced around the room, casting about the floor for any sign of the writhing floor, the broken masks. But… it wasn’t. It was just fossilized chitin, like the floor he’d fallen into when he’d first dropped here. It was all old stone and solid ground and--! And it was all just gone?

Hesitantly, Oro knelt and placed his hand against the floor, and waited. He didn’t know what he waited on exactly. For the floor to shift? To feel the moisture of churning mud where his eyes were clearly seeing none? But… it was just stone. 

“Wyrmssakes,” Oro grumbled one more time, getting back to his feet. He cast a wary glance over to the rooted egg as if it could somehow explain his surroundings. Then, gathering up his courage, he followed down the tunnel he’d seen the Announcer disappear down. He was walking for a handful of moments before a familiar roaring caught his ears. Cheering. And then light, bright and pouring across the tunnel around him. And Oro was suddenly in the pit beneath the Colosseum, blinking dazedly at the resting forms of combatants. Behind him was a solid wall, as though the ground had opened up to spit him out and closed itself behind him.

Shell itching with nervousness, Oro climbed back out of the Colosseum and made his way home. It wasn’t until he was sharpening his nail late in the evening that he realized he’d forgotten his brother.

[dogstarblues]

20 Questions

got tagged by @artemis-devotee. seemed like fun! ty botan!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

i have 11 works and i can tell you four of those are poetry.

2. What’s your total AO3 words count?

17,831

3. What fandoms do you write for?

on ao3? used to write for the ch**tiverse, still write for Victoria Goddard's Nine Worlds. well, okay im on hiatus from participating in fan stuff bc i got too much going on and i have complicated feelings abt fandom. but. on ffnet? naruto, inuyasha, bleach, fairy tail, danny phantom. i think.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

we have time (love this one - much needed natural hair content in that fandom, much needed)

you can't even see how much you're mine (i'm really proud of this one)

before we have time

just for now

gazing at the sun

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i respond to everyone's comments if i can remember LOL

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

you can't even see how much you're mine. really exorcised my polyamory baggage with that one LMAO

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

mmmmm none of them end poorly but they end heavily, if that makes sense? but also they don't. like most of my fanfiction as an adult in my 30s is discussion of wants and needs in a relationship and hashing out things that need to be talked abt

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i have on ffnet when i was a teen and giving every naruto character in my biopunk fanfic like 4 codenames SDKVDFLVMS

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

yuh. "just for now" is smut (old man yaoi). and there's another i think. i wanted to really confront my sex repulsion and explore my own boundaries around what i write.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

naur i never understood crossovers v well. i love an AU tho

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

probably not. on ffnet it was SO goth edgelord and now it's extremely poetic prose. (and when i say POETIC prose i mean it tend to be concise and abstract, not that its purple) who wants that LOL

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

naur

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

yes! my first fanfiction was with my childhood friend Sunshine and we posted a double-self-insert absolute MANIC fanfic set in the world of Inuyasha posted to ffnet. one of my fondest memories. i dictated, she wrote.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

i don't have one these days but i shant say what it used to be only that it made me insane from the time i was 14 to the age of 25.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

i had an old man yaoi urban fantasy au wherein a character who used to be the chosen one had been imprisoned and was surviving the trauma of that as a music teacher and i read a ton of prison literature for it and watched documentaries and watched interviews and spent WEEKS researching trauma from incarceration and what it means to be incarcerated (part of this was because my birth father was about to be incarcerated and i was trying to write through my understanding of what he'd be going through) and researching what town councils do. and then a (now former) friend had torn apart the fic paragraph by paragraph during beta and wrote how boring parts were and no one wanted to hear abt me talking abt poetry in the fanfic and it was my FIRST fanfic since i was in my early twenties and i basically deleted the whole thing out of embarrassment and hurt. iykyk who it was. idk if i can ever go back to that. i just don't. i want to but. even strangers in workshops aren't that cruel LOL

16. What are your writing strengths?

i'm a pretty/poetic writer good at relationship shit i think. i'm good at grounding the reader in a sense of place and my writing is very tactile. it's embodied.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i am a pretty/poetic writer

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i know some spanish and a little french and even less russian (i'm like learning that one through osmosis) but it's not v applicable. hmmmm i wouldn't try unless i was fluent.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

inuyasha

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

either the naruto biopunk fanfiction on ffnet (i turned that one into a fanfic from a biopunk short story i had written in high school it's v close to my heart even if edgy) or "you can't even see how much you're mine" bc i put a lot into that or "we have time" because your partner doing your natural hair IS a love language.

if yall wanna hop in i'm tagging @toopunkrockforshul @cadencekismet @markeyverse

[justallihere]

i just wanted to say I adore your writing so, so much and I’m so grateful you’ve blessed this fandom with your talent. Also extremely grateful for the many updates you’ve given us this past week for Storm in the quiet. We don’t deserve your slow burn talents and yet here you are, spreading so much joy and making our hearts swoon <3

(I’ve been following along with your fics since almost the beginning and I’ve meaning to comment on each chapter, but I keep forgetting my ao3 login. So here I am, saying thank you on tumblr!)

One question I had for Storm: is Xaden older in this fic? I’m trying to think, Brennan “died” 7 years ago, aka 6 years before Violet started her first year at Basgiath… And I think I read in your fic that Xaden and Garrick left Basgiath a few months into their first year there because the rebellion started… right? (Unless I misremembered that part?) If so, then the youngest this Xaden can possibly be is 6 (or 5?) years older than Violet (assuming the year he left Basgiath was the year Brennan disappeared)?

Do I have my math right?

Anyway, again, I appreciate you and your writing so much!!! Thank you for all your hard work!!!

Thank you so much!!! I didn’t think when I started posting it (and also when I made this tumblr lmao) that it would get so much love, and I’m eternally grateful for the community that’s been built around my silly little fic 🥺

Yes, Xaden is older! Violet mentions it in ch 1, and then in ch 18 Xaden talks some about the rebellion from his perspective. His birthday is in March, so he would have turned 20 as the rebellion was ongoing and would have been conscripted that summer had the rebellion not been successful, so he was actually never at Basgiath at all. Since Tyrrendor already had riders, their secession and the establishment of their own riding academy led to some of the dragons (the ones who had been on the side of the rebellion) moving, and that’s how Xaden and the others bonded their dragons.

But yes, he’s about 5 and a half years older than Violet! She’s currently 21, he’s 26 (and he’ll turn 27 in March, she’ll be 22 in July, assuming I’ve got MY math right lmao I did just write out a timeline for this to make sure so fingers crossed 💀)