#and ALL he needs now to REALISE REALISE that is to spend some PROPER alone time with junsung..

[usertoxicyaoi]

A Flustered Sung Ho + His New Found Feelings Towards Jun Sung. HIS MAN 2 (2023). Episode 3-5.

[muxshwriting]

articulate

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

summary: Feyd realises how much he misses his wife despite seeing her everyday || warnings: grovelling?, guilt, violence, anger || word count: || masterlist

read the precursor to this: voiceless

REQUEST: would you be able to write a part two to voiceless, where feyd becomes more interested in spending time and being seen with his wife, even around others while she grows more content without him (maybe finding other people/friends for company). kinda like a “falling in love too late” kinda thing? thanks sm ❤️

You had withdrawn from your husband, done the bare minimum that was expected of you. It was what was expected of you, and the members of Harkonnen High Society were glad to see you taking your proper place. It seemed the only person not enjoying your new role was you. Even your husband was far more contented by having his days without bother and to not be questioned everytime he did anything.

But as time wore on, it started as the little things Feyd noticed he now lacked: the small glances you shared with him across the table, a squeeze of his hand before he stood, a gentle kiss to greet him. Now he ate alone, with you eating in your own chambers. You greeted him in the morning with a cold nod, no words exchanged.

He wondered what you did with your days, supposing you now lived a very lonely existence. He supposed that was the life of all noble woman, for that was the tradition of Geidi Prime and House Harkonnen, their women were nothing more than grabs for power and means to an heir.

But the more he thought, the more he doubted his family’s tradition. His familial tradition was to murder one another, why should he follow a tradition that would have his son murder you once he came of age. Perhaps tradition needed changing, perhaps he would pay you a visit, invite you to join his some days. Then again, maybe that was guilt. And Feyd-Rautha didn’t feel guilt, for anything or anyone.

“Wife!” His voice echoed as he walked into your shared chambers one evening. You were sat reading a book and glanced up as he entered.

“Yes husband?” You replied to him, placing your book down and moving to stand.

“I want to accompany me tomorrow.”

His words sent a wave of confusion through you. There were no noble visits scheduled in the coming days, nothing that would require you by his side. “Accompany you? May I ask where?”

“To my duties.” Feyd said it like it was obvious. “I have been neglecting my duty to you. Is it an offence for a husband to require his wife’s company?”

The words were said without true care behind the words and you felt your stomach twist as you reached for your book once more. “I regret to inform you that I have engagements tomorrow that I must attend to.”

“Cancel them.”

You look up at his incredulously. “Excuse me? I cannot simply cancel my plans on a moments notice because of your whim.”

Feyd bit back his anger at your rejection, ignoring the sting of pain that sat at his heart. “Very well. When do your engagements cease?”

“I am a busy woman, I barely spend a day alone nowadays. Forgive me for not keeping my schedule free and spend my time wallowing in loneliness. I can free up the day after tomorrow. Is that satisfactory for you Na-Baron?”

His wife’s coolness towards him made him doubt his intentions in the first place. Finally, he nodded solemnly, turned on his heel and exited the chamber.

Unknown to Feyd, his wife had been finding her entertainment and pleasure in other ways, finding any way to spend a day with others. It had began with her handmaiden, just a few hours helped a friendship blossom that then extended to her friends within the servants. They had created a bond that could not be broken, a space where they were not servants and she was not Na-Baroness.

Many of the servants were slaves from off-world, much how she was a slave to her husband and had been ripped from her own home and her own family to join his. There was a solace in their space she knew Feyd would not understand.

True to her word, she joined Feyd days later, sat in her seat at the breakfast table, and followed three steps behind as she did in the beginning. But there was no longing threaded into every move she made. She did not long for his love anymore, there was not a begging for attention and affection. You didn’t go out of your way to squeeze his hand or press a kiss to his cheek.

Feyd had been expecting your affection. And yet you showed him none. He was your husband but he would not be your lover.

He wished he could be, an affection from you only to him. He wanted the devotion of his wife the same way he wanted air to breathe but you would not be his air. You had found a contented life on Geidi Prime that did not involve bending to your husbands will and crawling at his feet for his love. You would perform your marital duty and spend your days in your chambers or in hidden rooms with your friends where your duty would escape you and your title would be worth nothing.

now this also has a part three!! compelling

[bluskaiwriting]

top of the food chain | sergei "kraven" kravinoff

➤ pairing: AFAB reader x Sergei Kravinoff / Kraven

➤ warnings: Smut, predator/prey power play, mild kink if you squint (a little rusty so i'm just easing back into it)

➤ notes: it has been so long since i've felt the proper urge to write smut for a character and of course it has to be kraven *chef's kiss*

➤ more: masterlist | smut reblog blog 

She thinks it must be fate, the way she practically fell into his trap. Their destinies tangled like a spider's web before they even breathed their first breaths. He was made for her as she was made for him.

She'd been barely old enough to be out there in those woods alone. Old enough that the judge declared she was no longer a ward of anyone. She was finally free.

Hopping on the first train out of there, she ended up somewhere in the mountains. After years of suffocating under someone else's thumb. Fresh air and green grass, that was all she wanted.

The mountains seemed perfectly idyllic and visions of her spending her days here flashed in perfect sequences before her.

Until she realised that she was woefully unprepared for the rough terrain and most definitely did not think her dumb little plan through.

Night fell quicker than she realised, leaving her shivering and struggling to find food. By some miracle, she had gotten the fire going before darkness fell but now the gurgle of her stomach was starting to echo.

Foraging was her plan, though she only knew brief notes of medicinal roots and herbs. Sustenance was slightly different. She'd trudged as far as the firelight touched to avoid losing her way.

Losing the spirit and gusto that so quickly drove her out here, dread and dispair began to take their place. A feeling rose up in her, souring her nose and wetting her eyes.

She was a fool, a silly little girl who honestly believed she could do something for once in her life.

About to lose all hope, something glinted in the moonlight in the corner of her eye, something that looked hopefully like a berry. Instinctively, she turned and stepped towards the glint.

Suddenly she was 10 feet in the air, trapped in a net of some sort and still frozen from shock. She was now caught in a trap.

A stupid, stupid trap that she was doomed to stay in until the hunter who set it up remembered to check on it or until she died of starvation.

Fortunately, luck seemed to be on her side tonight. A man emerged from the shadows, steps feather-light against the ground in practised movements. Shoulder-length dark hair that curled against his cheekbones, glowing yellow eyes that pierced through her soul, and the build of a hunter for sure.

The small glimmer of hope she'd felt at the sight of another soul, was quickly eclipsed by something much darker, and far more primal. For some odd reason, her gut told her that she was prey and she needed to run.

She was always very good at ignoring her instincts.

Her eyes scanned slowly, taking him in. Strong thick thighs, long arms lined with veins, and plump lips. She imagined what it would feel like to be caught in those arms, to sit upon those thighs and feel him tense beneath her.

He raised his eyebrow as he clearly caught her eyeing him, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. His eyes were now scanning her too in reciprocation.

Her breath hitched at the sight, and her chest rose and fell in rapid motion. She was a prey caught in a predator's trap.

Though not an entirely unwilling prey.

He approached slowly, eyes never leaving her's.

"Who are you?"

She was surprised to hear an American accent lilting in his voice, betraying his almost native grasp of Russian.

"Cut me down."

Her voice was clear and crisp, she hoped, betraying none of her nerves and trepidation.

His eyebrows raised once again before he stepped forward and lowered the trap to the ground.

It was almost unfair, how easily she followed him when he beckoned to her. The pathetically desperate way she almost tripped over herself to run after him, when he sped up.

It's just because she was afraid of being out there alone, purely for safety reasons. At least, that's what she told herself to ease the sting on her ego.

And how she really found herself beneath him, panting and wanting? Well, she was cold and he was a human heater of course.

"Faster, please." She whimpered pathetically, whining with every thrust he delivered.

His hips pistoned in and out of her poor puffy pussy, wetness dribbling out of her with every push.

"Is all this just for me?" He asked, voice lilting with arrogance.

He pulled back and spread her thighs wide, taking in the sight before him. Pink lips glistened with the evidence of what they'd just been doing, her mind absolutely blank of anything.

Dipping his head, he breathed in deeply, a growl emanating from his chest.

Fuck.

Licking a long stripe along her slit, he pressed deep into her cunt, fucking into her with his tongue. He wasn't just tasting her, he was devouring her.

As he laved on her clit, his fingers hooked into her. Noises of uh, uh, uh, left her breathless.

She could feel it building, cresting higher and higher. She was so close if she could just get him a little deeper.

As his fingers explored her, he found a spot that had her making a noise. A noise so vulgar, her flushed cheeks grew hotter.

Smirking, he ground his palm into her swollen clit and drove his fingers into that spongey spot repeatedly.

She let out a wail so loud, she was certain all the animals heard. Her vision spotting white and a continuous ringing in her ears.

"Jesus Christ."

He huffed a laugh as he sat back up, releasing her thighs from his grip.

"Turn over." He smacked her ass, still kneeling before her looking more like a beast than a man as his eyes seemed to glow.

Trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm, she propped herself onto her knees and lowered her arms to the bed. In this position, she almost felt like she was presenting herself to him, spread open for his taking.

She felt more than she heard him spit onto her, warm and wet. She clenched around nothing at the feeling.

Prodding at her entrance, he pushed into her warmth slowly, letting out a groan at the feeling of her walls squeezing him.

Her breath hitched at the fullness of it all and she swore she could feel him in her throat.

He pulled out so slowly, that she felt shivers run down her spine. He pushed back in harder, driving her up the bed.

A gasp left her as he sped up, pounding into her like his life depended on it. Kissing her cervix with every push in, it should have hurt, but all she felt was ecstasy.

As the stars rushed beneath her eyelids, she could feel that she was close again, but she needed a little bit more.

It seemed her beast-man could sense it too, and he brought his fingers down to draw tight circles around her clit.

Breathy high-pitched moans echoed in the dome, as she met her peak.

"Oh god, fuck. Yes, fuck."

She wasn't making sense anymore if she ever was. She clenched down on him, seizing up as waves of pleasure rolled over her.

In the vice grip of her cunt, he followed her over the cliff, grunting into her ear.

Lips pressed to the side of her head, he breathed into her hair as he came down from his orgasm.

As if the fog cleared, they looked at each other in a different light.

A softer light it seemed.

"I'm Sergei."

[kawhh]

Thinking abt Quinn and someone who lets him take control over certain things in the beginning. Planning dates? Go for it, you're new to the area and don't know where the good places are. Cooking dinner? Love a man who can cook! Helping with your skincare routine? Amazing bonding especially if Quinn lets you put a face mask on him too! But.....you're a bit stubborn for the rest of the things. Wanting to keep your job. Your apartment. Pay your own bills....etcetc

I apologise, nonnie. I woke up in a darker Q mode.

You lull him into a false sense of security at first - his possessiveness is soothed by you letting him plan and control everything for him.

He can make sure you get proper food in you. He can balance every single ingredient that goes into you. Knows it's all done by him and that you can't get sick from some other cooked food. He trusts a few restaurants and small grocery markets that he's used for years but anything else going into you is a gamble.

Dates? He knows where to take you to make sure he has the most alone time with you, places where it isn't crowded. He wants your attention on him.

He doesn't realise you aren't as accommodating when it comes to bills and jobs. And why do you protest against moving in with him? Do you think he can't provide for you? Why does he need to lose hours of you to work? What if someone is a creep in your workplace? What if you spend more time with your co-workers than him?

if you aren't at his apartment on top of spending time with co-workers, when does he get to see you? No, no, it's not enough. Anything could happen to you when you're not with him. At least he has ways of watching you at his own place when he's away.

If he can't convince you - he'll just have to.. force the situation.

He's cancelling your cards. Now you can't worry about rent and bills. He has enough money to throw at processes to make them cancel anything of yours himself.

Anything you need, he can simply buy or subscribe to himself. That way he can even keep an eye on what you're watching or doing.

He won't fully get you fired from your job - that'd distress you too much and might cause more problems for you. But now you don't need the money for everything else do you? You can work part time. He can work through that. He can track you, make sure he knows when you're at work and when you're leaving.

He'll make up excuses to get you home faster. He might even give you some drowsy medicine that forces you to call out sick. He can't drive you - he has practice (even if he doesn't. He'll drive around the block until you know you're stuck without transport)

[scoobysnakz]

ok but imagine loser!Miguel finding out that the reader has been seeing someone (casually, nothing physical… yet) and he has to try to put a stop to it while also having to listen to her swoon over said man RAAAAHHHH

AHHH OMG YESSS!!! LOVE THIS IDEA SMMM OMG

loser miguel who can’t help but get frustrated about the way you ramble on about him with that dopey smile on your face. normally, he’d be over the moon to see you so happy but the fact that it’s because of someone else…

it’s bad enough he can’t bend you over the break room table and pound your sweet cunt with his nose buried in your hair, now he has to contain his jealousy as well.

loser miguel who realises he can’t take this anymore and decides to end whatever silly ‘situationship’ you have going on.

loser miguel who starts pointing out all of the flaws he has, whether or not they’re real aren’t important.

“when was the last time he texted you?” he pipes in one day, forcing himself into the conversation, not that you care, you’re just happy good friend miguel is finally interested in your love life.

“i’m not sure.” you shrug, finger idly tapping the side of your mug half full with the coffee miguel made you. “sometime yesterday, i think.”

he just raises his brow with a sharp breath before walking off, praying that you start to overthink this minor flaw. but he knows you, and he knows you’ll get dragged down an endless rabbit hole of doubt.

loser miguel who inserts himself into your life, hoping that you’ll realize how much more useful he is than him. he starts making you coffee in the morning and bringing in croissants from the café over the road.

he loves the little thank you’s that you coo with a kiss to his cheek when he slides on your coat on your way out and the pretty smile that graces your face when he ‘coincidentally’ bumps into you by your house.

loser miguel who wants to know what’s going on when the two of you have to stay behind to work on something. he slides over to your side of your desk, his hand moving over the top of yours to stop your endless scribbling.

you look up at him through heavy eyes, the lack of sleep obviously getting to you. he can tell you haven’t had a good nights rest in a while and he’ll be damned if it’s not because your staying up all night texting your special someone.

“hmm?”

that soft, quiet hum resonates throughout miguel, travelling up his arms and legs and settling in the pit of his stomach. the feebleness of it makes him want to melt right then and there, pull you into a tight embrace until you fall asleep in his arms because the mere sight of you too tired to even ask a proper question is more than enough to make his heart ache.

“your eyes are all scrunched up, mami,” he sighs, a calloused hand coming up to push some of your hair out of your face. “when was the last time you got a good eight hours?”

you shrug, not even bothering to lie to him like the last few times he’s asked. “dunno.”

the next thing you know, miguel has his big strong arms wrapped you as you bawl your eyes out about how sucky this guy is. he’s not as understanding and kind and other guys you’ve been with, he doesn’t soften from your love and he doesn’t stare at you with those lovestruck eyes.

and while you feel so vain and self absorbed for expecting this from some random guy, miguel is practically dancing with glee. he knows why you expect all this, why you crave the gentleness and love of this man. he’s put these standards in your head, he’s the one who has been treating you this way because he’s who’s best for you.

you just need to realize it.

loser miguel who has to leave you alone to finish of the assignment for the evening, as much as he hates leaving you on your own, but the fear of you feeling his hardened cock digging into your thigh is much stronger.

he spends the rest of the evening relentlessly fucking his fist, imagining that it’s your tight pussy that squeezing his cock and not his thick fingers.

loser miguel who comes into work sorely disappointed to see you with eye bags big enough to hold two baby elephants and a makeup less face, not like he’s bothered but he knows how you like to doll yourself up for work.

he thought he told you to get a good nights rest !! why on earth are you so tired ??

“did you get any sleep at all?” he scolds, thick arms crossed his chest.

you look up at him, blinking slowly as you try and process his words. “‘course, migs,” you mumble while waving a dismissive hand at him.

“por dios,” he chides.

sliding an arm around your waist, miguel slots himself into the chair next to yours. you let yourself relax against him, your head nuzzling into the warmth of his chest and eyes flickering shut.

“couldn’t sleep.”

how badly he wants to pull you into his lap and let you curl up like a little kitten as you fall asleep clinging onto him like your life depends on it.

he lifts a large hand to smooth the crinkles in your shirt, smiling smugly as you let out a content sigh. “was thinking ‘bout what you’d been saying, how he isn’t good enough because he isn’t nice and stuff,” you admit scornfully, “and started thinking ‘bout things i shouldn’t.”

miguel nods, trying to pay attention to what you’re saying while also attempting to suppress his erection. “mami, you shouldn’t have been thinking about silly things so late, you need your sleep.”

loser miguel who loves the way you cling to him, sleepy mumbling an abundance of apologies as you nuzzle your head into his chest and stare up at him with those fatigued doe eyes.

he’s so grateful that it’s too early for anyone else to be in the lab otherwise he’s be too nervous to be holding you so close. he’s still trying to handle the glares he gets when he holds the door open for you.

loser miguel who whispers sweet words of reassurance as you start to bawl your eyes out all over again. you’re a blabbering mess with reddened eyes and puffy lips that he just can’t resist.

he leans down, face inches away from yours, and breathes in the comfortingly sweet scent of your perfume that he’s grown so accustomed to.

“why won’t he do all the things you say he should? how am i so clueless that i didn’t even realise he should?” you sob helplessly, “you’re always so sweet to me, why can’t he?”

“awww, poor chica,” he coos huskily. the warmth of his voice soothes you slightly, it’s like warm honey trickling past his perfect lips and dripping into your ears until all you can hear is the low rumble of his accent.

loser miguel whose heart nearly stops when you kiss him. never in a million years did he expect you to make the first move. every time he’s fantasised about it, he’d always been the one to pull you in, press you against the wall, whatever it is he’s the bold one.

but now your soft lips are pressed against his and all he can think about is how sickly sweet they taste.

his hand cups the back of your head, feeling the shape of your scalp and the softness of your hair. greedily, he deepens the kiss, cock straining against the seam of his pants. his tongue pushes itself into your mouth, hastily taking in the flavour of you as his desire for you deepens.

loser miguel who is panting and bewildered when you pull away, fingers curling up into the muscle of his chest.

“i was trying to kiss your cheek.”

loser miguel master list

[frogserotonin]

overthinker- lars pinfield x reader

a/n: short one bc im still in a slump rn many sorries. also sorry lawl this fic is so disconjointed and i’m really unhappy with it but whatever 😭 warnings: nothin proper i don’t think, most ooc lars to ever ooc, unedited; tell me if i've spelt smth wrong 😁

“Would you want to go out to get some lunch together on our break?” Your fingertips bounce off of the sides of your legs as you try to remain composed. You're so high-strung right now, you almost expect him to laugh in your face. Nerves and the effects of having slept a fitful two hours last night override your usually rational brain and you feel the need to just run away without receiving an answer bloom in your chest.

“I thought you usually brought lunch? If you forgot to bring some you can have some of mine, if you want.” Lars doesn’t even look up from what he’s working on, just adjusts his glasses and uses a vague jut of his elbow to point to his locker, where you know his bag is. Your heart simultaneously drops and stutters. 

“Oh, it’s okay, I just felt like going out to eat, thank you though.” You try to make your words seem more upbeat than you feel, unsure of whether or not to take his words as a rejection.

“Oh. Okay then.” It must be your imagination, but his words hold a hint of disappointment. You open your mouth again, then close it, and silence re-envelopes the room. Turning, you make your way to your desk and begin to work away, dejection slumping your shoulders forward and making time drag on. When eventually the lunch break arrives, you grab your bag and rush your way out of the lab.

A squeak of shoes on the concrete floor behind you almost has you looking back, but your brain is so addled you almost believe you’ve made it up.

Like a fool, you don't talk to him when you come back, or when you leave, the time you spend alone and in silence building up an anxiety in the back of your mind. The idea that he's all too aware of your feelings, and is made uncomfortable by them and your advances overtakes you completely. That night, you stay awake, tossing and turning, over analysing every interaction you've ever had with him, trying to make sure you've not overstepped and made a complete and utter fool of yourself.

In the morning, you consider it a miracle you leave the house at all, with how tired you are. The thought of calling in sick crosses your mind, but by the time you get up your body automatically locks itself into its usual routine, and you mindlessly get dressed and make your way to the Ghostbusters facilities. Through your drowsiness, the realisation that you’re at your desk and doing absolutely nothing sets in and you jolt. 

“Good morning.” If he didn’t sound so concerned, Lars would sound thoroughly amused. “You alright? Look a bit…off.” Your face flares, and you go to stand up, only to stumble and almost fall on your face. Hands out, you stabilise yourself, and then face him.

“Yeah. Morning.” You can only hope that he backs off, because his concern seems too genuine for your feelings to not expand exponentially the more he stands before you looking like he cares. “M’feeling just peachy, you?.” Belatedly, you realise your words are clearly not convincing because he doesn’t move an inch, simply studying you. He then sighs and shakes his head, chuckling a little bit, just softly under his breath, taking a couple steps closer to you. 

“When’s the last time you slept?” His voice is too gentle, too un-Lars-like, that you’re almost convinced you actually did fall asleep last night, and now you’re dreaming. You open your mouth to respond, but find yourself nodding off as you do so, the last thing you process before fully passing out is the feeling of arms around your chest and shoulders. 

When you come to, you sit up quickly, and slowly become aware of what had happened. Muttering cursing to yourself under your breath, you take in your surroundings, finding yourself slung over the small couch situated in the room reserved for taking time off from work briefly. Hurriedly, you rush out of the room towards where you assume Lars is working, apology already on the tip of your tongue. You approach him quickly and loudly, a fact that can be gathered from his head immediately snapping up when you enter the room. He starts to speak, no doubt to rattle off reasons why you were irresponsible and stupid for coming to work while being aware you weren’t at your fullest capacity, but you cut him off.

“God, I’m so sorry. That was humiliating, and I’m so, so sorry that it happened, it won’t happen again.” You bow your head, refusing to look him in the eye, but quickly look up again when you hear him laugh. 

“It’s fine, really, you just scared me a little bit.” His smile is small, but sincere and you remember fully the reason you were in the predicament in the first place. “Are you feeling better now?” 

You probably look a bit crazy with how vigorously you nod, but you barely care anymore. 

“Yes, thank you so much, really, I’m sorry that it happened.” He laughs again, and it sounds like heaven.

“You don’t need to thank me or apologise,” Lars’ eyes sparkle a bit behind his glasses when he properly smiles, and you can feel warmth rush to your face. He hesitates, like he’s calculating his words, then gently says “I-uh. I care for you a lot, it really meant nothing for me to make sure you were okay.”

[pyro-les]

It's a blessing and it's a curse part 3

Regina George x Reader

After dropping Gretchen and Karen off in town Regina goes to drive along the route Y/N walks home. They had already arranged for Y/N to quickly hop into her car discretely when she goes past, whe even took her mum's car so it wouldn't be easily recognised as hers if anyone saw.

Finally spotting Y/N's figure Regina slowly pulls up alongside her so she can quickly jump in the car before continuing to drive. "Hey baby." Regina says sweetly as Y/N gets in.

"Hi." Her girlfriend says, smiling softly. "How's your afternoon been?" She asks.

Regina sighs saying "Awful, I missed you." Y/N giggles saying that it had only been 3 hours since she last saw her. "Don't laugh, do you have any clue how hard it is putting up with stupid boys like Aaron all day when all I want to do is spend time with you?" Regina pouts.

"Well we've got all of tonight and tommorow morning, we can just order take out, watch a movie and cuddle." Y/N replies

Pulling into Y/N's driveway the couple head into the house holding hands with Regina leading the way, eager to finally have some proper alone time with her girlfriend. What they don't realise however, is that Damian had just got to the door of Cady's house only a few doors up and had seen a flash of blonde hair entering Y/N's house seemingly dragging her in behind them.

"That was weird." Damian says as he enters Cadys house to see her and Janis already sitting on the sofa happily chatting away.

"What was?" Cady asks.

"I just saw some blonde girl drag Y/N into a house down the road." Damian says kind of confused. "I didn't think she really hung out with anyone other than the drama kids at school, and well none of them have hair like that. Or are even that tall to be fair."

"That's weird. I mean I don't really see her around them in school much, let alone out of school. " Janis says equally as confused.

Cady, realising the girl Damian had seen must have been Regina tries to stop the conversation. "It's probably just someone from out of school, or a relative or something. I mean it doesn't really affect us. Can we just watch a film now?"

"That's a good point it could be a relative!" Janis exclaims. "Wait that's quite sad, if she doesn't have any friends. Maybe we should invite her over here." Janis proposes which Damian immediately agrees to.

"Um I'm not really sure if my mum would like that." Cady says earning looks of confusion from Damian and Janis. "I just mean that she only agreed to you two coming over. I guess I could ask when she gets home though." She adds on.

Back at Y/N's house Regina holds Y/N from behind, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist as she puzzles her head into her neck. "What are you doing baby?" Y/N asks as she tries to make some tea however that is proving a bit difficult with Regina stopping her from being able to move around the Kitchen.

"I'm hugging you duh." Regina says confused why Y/N is asking about something so obvious. "Am I not allowed to love you?" She adds on with a pout.

"Of course you can, but you're making this kind of difficult. I can't get to the fridge." Y/N replies.

"Hmmm fine." Regina says moving to get the milk from the fridge for her girlfriend.

"Thank you" Y/N says with a smile as she takes it from Regina who gives her a light kiss on her cheek.

After they finished making their tea the couple headed to Y/N'S room to watch a movie. They had already been home over an hour watching a random show Regina chose although neither of them really paid much attention, opting to talk to each other instead. Just as they started to head up the stairs they heard a knock on the door.

Turning to Y/N quizzically Regina asks "who is that? Is it your mum?"

Y/N shakes her head "no, she's working a night shift today. And she has a key anyway, she wouldn't need to knock." She pauses for a moment wondering who it could be before adding on "it might be one of the neighbours, I think we got a parcel for one of them."

Taking Y/N'S mug from her Regina says "OK, I'll take these upstairs while you answer it then."

Heading back towards the door Y/N hears a few muffled voices from outside now even more confused on who it could be, who would need multiple people to pick up a parcel? "Hey, I've got your-" Y/N says as she opens the door before noticing who's there. "Oh, hi? What are you doing here?" She asks incredibly confused.

Janis smiles and says "we're watching a movie at Cady's house, do you want to join?"

Hesitating for a moment Y/N says "I'm really sorry I can't I've got, um, homework to do. Yeah homework, I really want to finish it before my mum gets home."

Damian and Janis glance at each other seeming to know something, but what? Y/N wonders if they realised she's bluffing. "Oh, OK well we just thought we would ask because you seem pretty cool and we don't really talk as much as we should." Damian says with a smile.

"Thanks! I really appreciate it, I'm just really busy tonight but I'd be down to hang out another day?" Y/N offers, genuinely happy they want to be her friends.

The pair nod and smile before Janis says "that's alright, see you at school next week?"

"Yeah, definitely. See you!" Y/N says with a smile as Janis and Damian turn to leave.

After Y/N closes the door, Damian asks, "Did she have a lipstick print on her cheek?"

"I think so"

Back inside her house Y/N hears Regina ask who was at the door as she heads up stairs she shouts "it was Janis and Damian." Reaching her bedroom door she sees her girlfriends confused face and adds on "they wanted me to go to Cady's house to watch a movie with them."

"That's weird. What did you say?" Regina asks as Y/N sits next to her on her bed.

"I told them I had alot of homework to do. They were fine with it but it's just really weird, I mean they're nice but we barely talk to each other and now they're suddenly inviting me to hang out with them." Y/N responds.

Regina just hums in agreement grabbing her cup of tea before saying "Anyway, what are we watching today?"

"I was thinking we could continue our Ghibli marathon?" Y/N says as she grabs the TV remote.

Leaning into her girlfriends side Regina responds "Yeah that sounds good."

"Good" Y/N says with a smile, "I still can't believe you hadn't watched any studio ghibli films before, not even Totoro."

"I only really watched whatever was considered cool, no one ever recommended it to me before you and everyone else I know thinks anime is really lame." Regina says a bit sadly.

"Honey, you shouldn't let other people's judgements effect what you like, if you're interested in something then watch it."

Regina nods before saying "I know but it's hard, I'm getting better at doing my own thing though. And I do really like the films now, I'm glad you recommended them to me."

Smiling Y/N says "and I'm very proud of you for that."

Finally finding what she was looking for Y/N smiles pressing play on the film and says to Regina "okay so now that we've gone through some of the most famous ones you can finally watch my favourite, When Marnie was there."

Even though she doesn't know what the film is Regina finds so much joy in seeing Y/N this excites about it and happily agrees to watch it saying that she's sure of her girlfriend like it this much then she will too.

And she was right, the two happily watched the film together as they lay in bed holding each other close occasionally talking about the plot with Y/N trying really hard not to ruin the ending and she just about managed to not spoil it. Instead she got to see Regina's reaction to who Marnie really was exclaiming that she thought they had a bit of a thing going on and it wouldn't work now causing Y/N to giggle before telling her her own original thoughts when she watched the film.

She also got an earfull when Regina started crying in parts of it exclaiming that she didn't tell her it was a sad film to which Y/N responded "Hey atleast it's not grave of the fireflies!" Leaving Regina confused and now scared for when they'll watch it.

After the movie the pair ordered pizza and watched a movie of Regina's choice however they spent alot less time watching the film and alot more time either talking or making out, neither of them half as interested as they had been in the previous film. Everything had been normal, the most weird thing being some strage noises ourside when they had been making out, otherthan that it was what the couple would call the perfect night at home. There was nothing more they could ask for than relaxing, watching movies, having good food and being together. Everything was perfect, as far as they knew.

Taglist:

@l1lass

@riveristrying13

@moonpheus

A/N:

Thanks again for reading I hope you enjoyed this (I think) slightly longer chapter, as always let me know what you think and if you would like to be tagged on the next part. Also let me know if you have any ideas on what the strange noise outside was, I'd love to see if anyone got it right.

Also, please note this is not proofread so I apologise for any typos or grammatical errors, that being said if anyone wants to beta read to both help me and essentially get early reading access that would be greatly appreciated! :)

Thanks for reading!

[ganxiously]

A Place to Rest Your Weary Bones || 1.8k || 8.15 speculation fic (sort of)

Read below or read on ao3

Buck had not worked a wildfire in quite a while but he still remembered every detail vividly. It was the thing of nightmares after all — the heat, the desperation, feeling like ants trying to move a mountain and most importantly, the aftermath where everything became grey and silent, a desolate landscape of smouldering ash and burnt down husks, a hellish world where certainly no life could ever hope to grow. That’s what he felt like, standing at the doorway to Chimney’s room and realising that his brother-in-law, despite what had happened, had gotten the better end of the deal. He was alive, for one, and well on the road to recovery. He would be better in a week, they said, now that the antivirus had taken effect. Hen, on the other hand, was going to be stuck in the hospital itself for a week and then was looking forward to more than a month of bed rest and light duty. And Bobby . . .

He shied away from the thought and concentrated on Maddie, who was sitting beside Chim and stroking his hand. She was crying, silent tears trailing down her face, but Buck didn’t have it in him to make her stop. This was better, this was better than the shellshocked look she had worn as they had sat together in the hospital waiting room. 

“You sure about staying here for the night?”

His voice was hoarse, broken and battered from all the screaming he had done. For nothing apparently. Buck had learnt the hard way today that screams could not bring the dead back to life. His sister looked up, startled like she had forgotten Buck was still here. She paused for a moment, her eyes looking past Buck to something he couldn’t fathom and then focused back on him again.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

She must have seen the hesitance on Buck’s face because she straightened up a little, pulled on the armour of big sister tighter around her shoulders and said,

“Don’t worry. I’ll be alright. I just . . . I just need to keep him in my sight for a while.”

“I can stay with you.”, he offered, a part of him desperate to not be separated from his people, even though he already knew what her answer would be.

Unsurprisingly, she shook her head.

“No, no, it’s fine. You go on ahead and get some rest at home. I just want to spend some time alone with him.”, Maddie told him and then, after a pause, acquiesced, “But be here tomorrow, alright?”

He nodded.

“Yeah. I— I’ll be here first thing in the morning.”

That brought a smile to her face. 

“No need for that Buck. You saved the day today. Get some proper rest before you turn up.”

On the way out, he peeped into Hen’s room but it was already crowded with Denny and Mara sitting on either side of Hen’s sleeping figure while Karen and Hen’s mother were off to the side, talking in hushed tones. He briefly considered going inside but it felt intimate, almost sacred. A family keeping bedside vigil and Buck would only be an interloper there. It was better to leave them alone for now.

Outside, the streets were practically empty given the time of the night but by some divine intervention, there was a cab idling at the hospital entrance. Buck approached it, earning a curious glance from the driver.

“Where to?”

“Home.”, came the answer before he could even consider formulating one.

It made the man look at him weird but something must have shown on his face because his gaze softened a second later. He didn’t exactly look any less weirded out but more like he wouldn’t immediately grab hold of Buck and commit him to the psych ward.

“And where is that?”, he asked.

And that . . . that was the question, wasn’t it? Where was home? Buck had a house, sure but did he have a home? He hesitated for a second, glancing back at the hospital. He felt like if he looked hard enough, he would be able to see Chim and Hen’s room from down here. A stupid thought, of course. He was too far away. He slid into the backseat and gave the driver the address to the 118, trying not to think too much on what he was doing. The firehouse was on the other side and he would need to pass by the hospital again to get back to his house. It would take a lot of time. Just because I need to pick up my car, he told himself, and it will save me a lot of time tomorrow.

The firehouse was empty when the cab dropped him off. The gates were still open but the lights were off. The abandoned trucks looked colossal in the dark, their brilliant red hidden and the moonlight making them throw long shadows across the floor. It looked haunted almost, an empty building with an almost empty parking lot in the middle of LA, waiting for its captain who would never step through those doors again. No one would be in the right mind to work, the management had said, let them take a day before they can resume work again. So understanding but still so cruel. Buck would have screamed if there was any strength left in his lungs for that. He didn’t know how things could resume again. The core was gone. Without the nucleus to drag them in and hold them together, they’d either drift apart, orbitless and alone or collide and explode and take everything in their wake. There was no coming back from this.

I’ve lost my captain, he thought, standing at the entrance. I have lost my home. This place had been home for so long. Maybe not home in the way people meant it but definitely a home nonetheless. It had been the first place where he had truly belonged. It was where he had truly come into himself. It was where he had lived, laughed and loved his way to true adulthood. Buck had fought for it, he had fought himself and the world and the universe for it and now . . . now, he had lost it anyways. Because a home was always defined by the people who had made it into one and this one had been made by Bobby.

I’ve lost my Dad.

The sob that tore through his throat echoed through the firehouse, a macabre cry of the half-dead and Buck wondered if he should go in anyways. Just sit there and wait until Bobby showed up. Or until he fused in with the walls, become one with the house — a happy ghost among his happiest memories. But no, there were people who still needed him here. There was Athena, lifeless as a statue, stiff and unmoving like she could arrest time through sheer will. There was Bobby, lying cold in an even colder room, waiting for a hero’s send off. There was Hen and her family and Maddie and Chim and Jee. And Jesus Christ, had anyone even thought to inform Eddie of what had gone down? Life didn’t wait for anybody. It would carry on, one bleak morning after the other no matter how much Buck felt ready to deal with it. 

Steeling himself, he turned away from the 118, walking across the lot to climb into his truck. Taking a deep breath, he started the car but where to? Where was home? Where did he belong? Where could he belong? Buck didn’t know anymore. But he did have a house, a place to rest and gather himself so he could emerge tomorrow and try to help what was left of his family. It was where he should go, drive past the hospital where his loved ones were, take a right, then a left and then another left. Go inside, eat a leftover sandwich, get some sleep and get up early and see how he could help, who he could help.

He didn’t do that. Of course, he didn’t. Instead he circled the hospital once, twice, drove down to pass by his old loft, the repository of his other happy memories. He checked Maddie’s house and then Hen’s and then sat outside of Bobby and Athena’s apartment, eyes trained on the darkened windows. And when he finally turned into his street, it was already nearly dawn. The sky was still dark but the world was coming to life slowly — a few people here and there, the call of a bird, the bark of a dog. He parked his truck and glanced at his house. Looked away and then snapped back to gape at it. Because the house was the same — one storey, pale yellow in colour and porch out front. It was dark save for the porch lights that Buck had learnt to leave on after that one time he tripped on the stairs and sent himself slamming into wall. Everything was as it should be except . . . except for the figure, slumping down on his front steps, long body folded almost in half, hands on knees, head on hands, brown curls gleaming in the soft yellow light.  

Buck was out of his car before he even fully registered what was going on. He walked up the driveway, trembling all over because it couldn’t be, right? He wouldn’t, right? He wouldn’t for Buck, right? But he would, though. He would for, Buck. Always. That much was something he had been sure of even in his worst moments. He came to stand before the tired figure slumbering at his door. Buck stared down at him and then stared some more to make sure he was not hallucinating or anything.

“Tommy?”, he finally called, his voice barely above a whisper.

The head jerked up, Tommy’s body flinching in a way it did only when he woke up from a very deep sleep. Buck felt bad for him. He had already been at the tail end of his 48 hours when Buck had called him and then God knows how many hours they had spent trying to save everyone’s life. He must have been exhausted. Blue eyes stared up at him, wide with shock at first and then slowly it bled away, leaving bone-aching relief in its wake.

“Evan.”, Tommy whispered like he also had a hard time believing Evan was really there. Which was stupid because it was Buck’s house they were at.

“You’re finally home.”

And all at once Buck’s carefully constructed embankments crumbled. Grief and helplessness flowed in, breaking the banks, flooding the fields and Buck collapsed onto his knees, finally, finally safe in the knowledge that someone was there to catch him now. As expected, hands grabbed him by the shoulders, large and strong and steady, not pulling him up, not pushing him away but just holding him, letting him be, letting him float knowing that when it was enough, he could just tug on the line and rest assured that he would be dragged back to the shore. 

“Yes. I am home.”

Amidst the desolate landscape, between the ashes and burnt tree trunks, a tiny sapling broke the surface, not life, not yet but the hope of one.

[imshymorph]

Slightly angsty soft!price, I promise it has a good ending.

I believe that as much as you’re both used to the rhythm of it all now, you know, the weight his deployment adds to both of your shoulders, the way your stomachs churn when you have to spend months apart. It wasn’t as easy to deal with at the beginning.

I don’t even think you fully knew what his job was in the actual beginning. And the first few months to a year of really knowing was probably the hardest one in your relationship.

- - - - -

It was already hard, having to go weeks or months at a time without seeing him, with barely any contact. It was much harder when you knew that pretty much anything could happen to him and all you’d have as notice was someone delivering his dog tags to your door.

Resentment wasn’t the proper word for how you felt, you didn’t blame John, you never could. You had met him as the man who he was now, you wouldn’t expect him to change because of you. But there definitely was a weird feeling in your gut the more time you spent alone in your shared flat.

Your phone is always close to you, in case he got the chance to give a quick call or a simple text that confirmed his well-being. Your clothes pretty much abandoned to instead use his to at least have the smallest resemblance of what his presence was.

It wasn't resentment, but definitely loneliness, maybe even some hidden grief. The catastrophist side of you taking control, always ready to get a call from the hospital or a knock on your door.

You didn’t say anything in the beginning, he already had enough on his plate. but when a deployment made you both stay apart for over two months you spoke up. It was a civil, a conversation, not an argument. You explained how worried you were, despite his reassurances that you didn’t have to be, how lonely you felt. How big and silent the flat felt without him, how slow time seemed to pass by.

He understood, made the promise to limit the deployment times. He'd still go on missions, but shorter ones, the longest taking two weeks at a time. At least that was for the first few months. Old habits die hard and John has always been someone not only of habits but commitment and dedication. So, without realising, soon enough he was dipping back to old ways, his work as captain keeping him out of the country months at a time.

You tried a couple more times, insisting that you didn’t blame him. You knew what you were getting into before moving in with him, it wasn’t that. You just wanted some level of compromise, you didn’t ask him to avoid long deployments, just do his best to avoid having them back to back.

And the result was always the same. He'd understand and agree, and it would work well for a couple weeks, sometimes months. But then you’d go back to seeing him less and less until you were apart months at a time once more.

it all changed one specific day, though. It was probably the fourth or fifth time you had talked about it with him. Yet here you are again, alone at your shared flat, that had been inhabited only by you for the last six weeks. The feeling of loneliness had only grown stronger each day that passed and you had started to question if you were in fact starting to resent him. Wanting to avoid that train of thought you decided on the best option, you wouldn’t be alone at home if you spent a few days at someone else’s .

Texting one of your friends about your situation, they agreed on letting you stay with them for a few days. To help you get your mind out of John’s deployment and give you a break of the empty flat. You’d have company for a few days and manage to get rid of that pit in your gut that made bile rise every time you heard the doorbell.

You were packing things you’d need from the bathroom, busy with checking you didn’t forget anything important, you hadn’t heard the main door open.

John walked in, taking his muddy boots at the front door before he went looking for you, noticing the bedroom’s light on. He froze on the doorframe, stomach dropping and chest tightening when he saw your suitcase almost filled up on the bed.

You walked out of the bathroom, your whole body freezing when you saw him standing there. You hadn’t expected him to be home yet, not for another week at least. Your eyes ran over his whole body, making sure he was safe and sound. “John…?” you barely got to murmur, not even finishing your sentence before the things you were carrying were taken out of your hands and instead you were pulled into him.

“I'm sorry.” he murmured against the crown of your head. His nose pressed to your hair, with a hand cradling the back of your neck as the other pulled you close by the waist. “I'm sorry, love. Please, don’t leave.”

“I know I've messed up. Broke my word.” His tone was his usual gruff and low one, with that raspiness that comforted and turned you on alike, so familiar and finally there with you. But there was something to it, a light tilt that revealed how worried he really was about you possibly leaving. “I'll make it up to you, I'll really change.”

“John.” You say softly, lightly pulling away, only enough to look him in the eye, one of your hands reaching up, gently cupping his cheek. “I'm not leaving, love. I was just going to see a friend for a couple days.”

As soon as your warm hand makes contact with his skin, his face leans into your touch and his eyes soften. “Don’t, please.” he murmurs, and god does he resemble a sad dog in the rain. “Stay with me.” You give a soft nod and before you can do or say anything else, he pulls you back in his arms with a string of thank you’s and i’m sorry’s.

“I'll make it up to you, I promise.” he murmurs against the top of your head before kissing it. And the way his arms curl tighter around you and pull you closer. The way the mix of his cologne and musk fills your senses and the press of his lips to your head immediately makes that pit in your gut disappear.

“It's okay.” you reassure softly, your arms hooking around his neck in return, holding him close. “I'm not angry, darling. I just missed you.” the second one of you hand drifts up to lightly brush through his hair and against his scalp he feels like he’s melting.

“I missed you too, love. Every single day.” he answers, his face now burying in the crook of your neck instead of your hair. His body unconsciously starts to sway the both of you from side to side. “I'll make it up to you. Take you out on a proper date.”

Your eyes close, your head leaning against his shoulder as you sway along with him. “We can do that tomorrow.” you reassure him softly, “just want to say like this for now.”

“We can stay like this for as long as you want, love.” he murmurs, the hand on your waist moving under your his t-shirt to feel your warm skin. “Just please don’t leave me.”

“I won't.” comes out your soft answer, “I’m not going anywhere, darling.” you reassure softly as you press a light kiss to his shoulder.

The both of you stay like that for a few minutes, a comfortable silence sitting between the both of you as you softly sway in each other's arms. No words needed to notice the relief the other is going through. If he thought he had relaxed when you had started to play with his hair, the moments he heard you whisper a soft i love you he felt like he had ascended to paradise without realising.

He took a second, breathing your scent for a moment longer before he pulled back enough to look you in the eye. “I love you too. you’re my everything, love. I’ll prove it to you, promise.” he whispered back, before leaning in to seal his promise with a kiss.

[divorcingjimmatthews]

time to inflict my jade and khatri AU headcanons on yall. jhatri AU masterpost

i hadn't thought about khatri in a while and that lovely ask brought back all the khatri thoughts please bear 🐻 with me

khatri is so repressed gay priest coded to me that i actually forget that's not a canon plot point most of the time

to me he's constantly having sexual thoughts about boyd that he is sooo deeply ashamed of, mostly because he believes that boyd is straight and would change the way he sees him if he knew

in any case with the dead wife situation boyd's got going on it's definitely just easier to push any lustful thoughts aside. until jade shows up :)

yall khatri was soo sweet and caring with jade!! and his reaction when jade flirted with him while high? kristi rolled her eyes, boyd slapped him away, but khatri had a fucking experience there, you cannot change my mind

pictured above: what could have been the start of a beautiful relationship if the writers were not so concerned with superflous things like "story" and "plot"

it might have been the first time in his life that another guy openly called him beautiful or looked at him like that. or it might also have reminded him of a boyfriend he had or almost had in his youth. take your pick. both work

also, we cannot ignore that jade is a really attractive guy and that he's literally handcuffed in this scene. it's such a peak meet cute come on look at them. look at their hands

now, i can see khatri going to check up on jade the next morning or a few days later. jade is completely alone after all so i feel like khatri would tell him that he can stop by the church if he wants. jade would just laugh it off and then be like oh you're actually being serious?

but he would go. not for his own sake but because tobey was catholic or something and he was kind of losing his mind when they buried him so he didn't get to give a proper goodbye. khatri does a little funeral service just for him and jade is a mess afterwards

they would sit and talk and khatri would ask him if tobey was his partner and jade would feel safe enough with khatri to explain the complexities of their situationship. khatri would share some of his own memories about loving other men in return

khatri is basically resigned to eternal unhappiness tm but jade is clingy and needy and entitled so he would find excuses to see khatri all the time. i stand by my belief that khatri couldve fixed jade. imo most of jade's bratty attitude comes from being defensive against what he percieves as threats but with khatri i think he would just feel safe to be himself

jade would obviously have a big problem with khatri being resigned to unhappiness tm and i think he would just rope him into projects like he did with jim and tabitha

they would have a lot of discussions about religion where jade would be a total prick but khatri would humor him because jade clearly needs the venting session and because khatri can really use a lighthearted break from his internal monologue of guilt and shame. symbiosis

obviously people would talk because it would make no damn sense. why is a priest going around collecting car engine parts

and indeed a big part of why they're spending time together at all is because they enjoy each other's company. just like with boyd the situation doesn't really work in their favor because jade is not really thinking about anything besides finding a way out of the town

one day some people are looking at them a little weird and jade knows that look so he gets really worked up and yells something like "yeah i'm fucking your priest if that's what you wanna know, can you move along now?"

as soon as he turns back to khatri he realises that he really fucked up, though. once they're alone in private jade apologises and admits that he said that because he kind of wishes he was fucking the priest but "listen, that's not the point, the point is that i'm really sorry, i shouldn't have said that, and i shouldn't have said that here, and... fuck"

"i'm just sorry, alright?" before leaving the church while feeling terrible for having fucked up that bad. sadly i think they... wouldn't really get to fix it? since jade would be getting sucked deeper into the whole visions situation around this time and khatri has the whole deal with sara going on

which is another reason why khatri would shut jade away. maybe jade would go try to fix things and ask to come in and khatri would have to tell him no. because he literally has his best friend's murderer locked up in the basement LMAO

if someone else wants to add to this or sees a way in which it could work please do add to this i am literally so starved and i have so many cute headcanons for them if they were together but i cant see khatri going for it so i just suffer

[seidenbros]

Let Me Love You Just the Way You Are

Pairing: Wylan van Eck x Jesper Fahey Summary: “We’re done here. I’ll send word to each of you after I find us a ship, but be ready to sail by tomorrow night,” Kaz announced, and that was when Jesper snapped back into the conversation. His head was still spinning, trying to comprehend the new information. “I’ll take a little walk,” he said to Wylan as he was getting up, running a hand over his hair. “Jes…” Wylan got up as well, reaching out his hand towards Jesper, but quickly dropping it again. Jesper’s heart was aching when he saw him like this, but talking now wouldn’t be good for either of them. He needed to think, needed some fresh air, and needed to be alone for once. “Just… give me an hour, okay? I just need to clear my head a little.”

Inspired by the Third Army Summit and everything that came to light, this is my take on the van Eck Reveal and the "I love you" - "I don't deserve you" dialogue. Word count: 5.850 Warning/Tags: POV Jesper Fahey, Angst with a happy ending, emotional hurt comfort, referenced child abuse, bad parents Jan van Eck, love confessions, pre Ice Court heist A/N: The brainrot is real and so I had to write it down. There is a bit of dialogue from the book in there as well, cause I wanted to stick to the soruce material a little bit. And then there is THIS SONG that fits them and the situation so well, so maybe give it a listen as well 💚 Read on AO3

Don't say you're not strong enough To let me love you just the way you are So distant when you’re next to me Hiding all I wanna see The silence in the air we breathe Echoing so hopelessly

“An opportunity has presented itself.” Kaz’s words were still ringing in Jesper’s ears, but Kaz had told them that they’d need to get Matthias out of Hellgate beforehand. Of course, Jesper’s curiosity was nearly killing him, but he knew that Kaz wouldn’t breathe a word, and probably just smack him with his cane if he started pestering him. Wylan seemed to know a little more, and he actually had some quiet conversations with Kaz, but didn’t say anything to Jesper. It was bothering him that they were keeping secrets from him, but he didn’t want to get Wylan in trouble by trying to get these secrets out of him. Besides, he’d rather spend the time he got along with Wylan doing other things.

Getting Matthias out of Hellgate had been… an adventure to say the least. Jesper still had no idea how they’d pulled all that off, but the end result was what counted for him. And the fact that Nina was still alive after one of the first things Matthias had done had been to attack her, was even more important to him. Yes, he knew what had happened, that Nina had been responsible for Matthias going to Hellgate, but she’d done it for the right reasons. On the other hand, he could understand Matthias as well. It was obvious how much they meant to each other, no matter that they tried not to show it. Below all that pain and anger, there was a whole lot of love.

Matthias had gotten some fresh clothes, a bath, some proper food, but there had always been someone with him to avoid any kind of trouble. Even now when they were sitting together to finally talk about this opportunity Kaz had mentioned, they made sure to have Nina and Matthias sit on opposite sides of the table.

Jesper’s attention was on the man next to him, though. Wylan seemed so nervous, and it showed in the way he squeezed Jesper’s hand beneath the table. Casting a glance at him, Jesper realised how pale he’d gone. He wanted to ask if he was alright, if he needed some fresh air, when Kaz spoke up and demanded all their attention.

He told them about what Jan van Eck had let him in on, what he wanted them to do. The name already left a sour taste in his mouth, but what Kaz told them definitely made his ears ring. After this heist, he wouldn’t have to worry about money anymore. He’d be able to pay off his debt, give something to his father, and still live a great life with Wylan by his side. At least he was hoping that Wylan would stay with him, because he couldn’t think of a future without him anymore. It scared him in a way, but it also made him tingly all over with anticipation and happiness. He’d never felt so much for one person, and he knew what it was, what he felt, but naming it, saying the words out loud… he wasn’t able to do that just yet. Especially not when they were talking about breaking into the Ice Court to get someone out of there. It sounded utterly crazy, but the job was too good not to take it. Besides, they had someone who knew the Ice Court, didn’t they? Though Matthias wasn’t very keen on helping them. But jesper knew that Kaz would find a way to persuade him. Matthias had been seen friendly with a Grisha, and Jesper was rather sure that word had gotten around, which meant that Matthias wouldn’t exactly be welcome in his own country. At least, that was what he assumed.

“And you think we can trust van Eck with this?” Jesper asked, pulling Wylan’s hand into his lap, cradling it in both of his own to reassure him a little more.

“I don’t. But we have a secret weapon” Kaz turned towards them, but then his eyes focussed on Wylan, which made Jesper a little uneasy. Maybe, they were revealing now what they’d been talking about in secret. “Meet Wylan van Eck.”

Jesper blinked once, twice, trying to comprehend what Kaz had just said. His mouth went dry when Wylan pulled his hand from his grip.

“That’s not a very good joke, Boss.” Eventually, Jesper managed to turn his head and look at Wylan properly, before his attention was back on Kaz.

“Do you wanna dress him up like a merchant’s son? Is that your plan, Kaz?” Nina crossed her arms, crying her best to follow what he meant.

“Technically, he is  one,” Kaz elaborated a little further, leaning on his cane. “And it wasn’t a joke, Jesper. He is Jan van Eck’s son, but has been going by his mother’s name.”

“Wylan?” Jesper looked at him again, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He’d never breathed a word about this, had never mentioned his father, but then again, they hadn’t really talked much about his family altogether. Still, this wasn’t anything Jesper would have expected in a million years.

He didn’t hear the rest of the conversation, because his thoughts were all over the place with that new information. It wasn’t like Wylan had lied to him in general, but he was still hurt that he hadn’t known about this. And more importantly why Wylan had been living the way he had, barely any money and nothing proper to eat for a while, when he had a whole mansion to call his home. It didn’t make sense. What irked him even more was that Kaz knew all that, knew who Wylan really was, where he’d come from, who his father was. That begged the question whether Inej had known that as well. He was rather sure that she had known. It made him feel left out. Left out by the person he lo… liked so much.

“We’re done here. I’ll send word to each of you after I find us a ship, but be ready to sail by tomorrow night,” Kaz announced, and that was when Jesper snapped back into the conversation. His head was still spinning, trying to comprehend the new information.

“I’ll take a little walk,” he said to Wylan as he was getting up, running a hand over his hair.

“Jes…” Wylan got up as well, reaching out his hand towards Jesper, but quickly dropping it again. Jesper’s heart was aching when he saw him like this, but talking now wouldn’t be good for either of them. He needed to think, needed some fresh air, and needed to be alone for once.

“Just… give me an hour, okay? I just need to clear my head a little.” He wanted to say something more, that he shouldn’t worry, that everything was okay, but the words wouldn’t come out. Because he didn’t believe them wholeheartedly as of yet. That was why he needed to go for a walk and clear his head. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Wylan, but right now, it seemed inevitable. Before he spent more time just lingering around, not saying anything more, he headed outside, taking a deep calming breath, once the night air hit his face.

Jesper wasn’t sure whether he’d get some proper sleep tonight, because at the moment, there was too much on his mind to find some kind of peace. He was walking without a real goal, just moving through the city to clear his head, which didn’t really work that well if he was being honest.

His fingers were itching, his eyes drawn to the gambling halls of the barrel. Going in there for a little game would give him a sense of control back, when he was feeling like he was spiralling down, down, down, so close to hitting the ground and breaking. It had been wise not to take any money with him, because he’d known that he’d end up at this point. Thanks to Wylan, he hadn’t gambled in a long time, and he wouldn’t throw that away because of this, would he?

Wylan was still the same person he’d fallen for, the same person, who’d wowed him at the piano and had made his heart nearly beat out of his chest in that moment. The same Wylan who’d saved his life with the Cyan Morpho. The same Wylan who looked so utterly charming and sweet in the morning when he was just waking up, his hair a mess, and a smile on his lips that was only meant for Jesper. Nothing had changed about this, about the way Wylan made him feel. He was still the same person who could be so shy and scared, but bold and snarky at the same time. The same person who’d stolen Jesper’s heart. It didn’t matter who his father was, where he was coming from, and it wasn’t about that really. It was the fact that this was kept secret from him when Kaz had known for who knows how long.

In the end, Jesper had been gone longer than an hour, but at least he returned home. A home he shared with Wylan, because he’d wanted it that way, wanted to have Wylan by his side all the time. Jesper took a deep breath as he walked up the stairs and reached for his key. His heart rate skyrocketed again, because he was nervous to talk to Wylan about this, wondering what else he might not know about him. Once he’d unlocked the door and stepped inside, he found Wylan sitting on the edge of the bed, wide eyes looking back at Jesper. He’d been crying, Jesper was sure of it. The slightly puffy and red eyes, the damp collar of his shirt... Jesper felt terrible that he’d made Wylan feel like this, but he’d needed to get away.

“You’re still awake,” Jesper observed, taking off his coat to hang it over the back of a chair. All he wanted was to wrap Wylan up in his arms and hold him tight, but he figured that wouldn’t lead to them talking about the whole situation, which was very much needed.

“I… was waiting for you.” Wylan slowly got up from where he was sitting, taking a tentative step towards Jesper.

“Well, here I am.” Jesper shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t want to be so cold to him, but it just happened, his emotions getting the better of him.

“You’re making this really hard for me.”

“And you think it was easy for me to hear that you were lying to me?”

“Technically, I wasn’t lying to you.” Wylan straightened his shoulders a little, getting defensive, and he had every right to do so.

“Fair enough… But you kept this a secret from me when Kaz knew!” That was the part that hurt the most for him. If Kaz hadn’t known, it wouldn’t be a problem for Jesper. Not one bit.

“It’s not like I told Kaz who I am, who my father is. He already knew.” Wylan took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair and leaving it in utter disarray like this. Honestly, Jesper had to hold back not to reach out his hand and do the same to his hair. “He knew way before he recruited me and I only found out now.”

“He did?” Now, that surprised Jesper as well. He’d thought that Kaz had found out, and had decided to make use of that knowledge, but he’d known all along. Actually, he shouldn’t be surprised, since this was Kaz Brekker they were talking about.

“Yes. He’s been keeping an eye on me ever since I…” Wylan hesitated, trying to find the right word. “Appeared in the Barrel.”

“How did you end up here anyway? I don’t understand how you could run from such a sheltered life to live on the streets.” Jesper eventually walked over to Wylan, but only to sit down on the bed. Whatever was coming now, he thought it might be better to sit down, and Wylan seemed to be thinking the same thing. He sat down next to Jesper, but with a little bit of distance between them.

“It wasn’t exactly my choice, but I should have left a long time ago,” Wylan said quietly, his eyes cast downward, When jesper realised that Wylan was clasping his hands together, unclasping them, rubbing his fingers together, he reached out one hand to take Wylan’s. He couldn’t hold back anymore, and he figured that they both needed this kind of contact.

“What happened, Wy?” His anger slowly dissipated when he saw Wylan like this. It was obvious that it wasn’t an easy topic for him, but Jesper had no idea just how crucial it was.

“I was… never good enough for my father. I tried and tried and tried, had tutors to teach me how to read, but nothing worked. I just couldn’t learn to read and write properly. I started to memorise things, stories, just to get by a little bit, but my father wouldn’t have it.” Wylan sighed, running his thumb along Jesper’s, because it calmed him down. “He told me multiple times that I was a failure, a disgrace to the van Eck name, that nothing would ever become of me.”

“Wylan…” Jesper had to bite his bottom lip to keep himself from talking, because he wanted Wylan to go on, didn’t want to stop him. But the anger inside him rose again, but not because Wylan had kept these things from him, no, because he’d been treated like that by his own father. The one person who should love him unconditionally. Jesper knew that not all families were loving, but you only realised that when you were able to see behind the facade. After his own mother had died, he’d been lucky to have a loving, caring father by his side. He hadn’t done everything right, had been scared as well, but what he’d given Jesper had been a whole lot of love. Something that seemed to be a foreign word for Jan van Eck. It made Jesper understand Wylan’s behaviour even more when he’d found out that he couldn’t read. He hadn’t meant anything bad with his words, and he was glad that they’d been able to work through this. Knowing this kind of backstory made Jesper understand Wylan a lot better, though.

“When my Mum died… I wasn’t allowed to attend her funeral. He said he didn’t want me there, and I never really got to say goodbye. I don’t even know where she’s buried.”

“He did what?” Jesper sat up a little straighter before he scooted over to Wylan, finally closing the distance between them. Maybe he needed that more than Wylan, because this… this really made him mad and want to go over there and teach that man a lesson. Losing a parent was never easy, especially at a fairly young age, but at least Jesper knew where his mother was buried. He couldn’t imagine what Wylan had felt like.

“Yeah… and when I tried to sneak out to get to the funeral somehow, he caught me and punished me once again. It wasn’t the first and it wasn’t the last time.” Wylan’s free hand touched his belly, making Jesper freeze.

“He did that?” He’d wondered where Wylan had gotten the scars on his abdomen, but he hadn’t asked about them, realising rather quickly that it was a sensitive topic for Wylan. When he nodded, Jesper knew why Wylan hadn’t told him anything about them yet. If he ever got his hands on Jan van Eck, he wasn’t sure just what he’d do, but it wouldn’t be nice.

“It wasn’t the worst thing he did.” Wylan shrugged his shoulders, trying to play it down, but Jesper wasn’t having any of it.

“Wylan… what do you mean?”

“How I ended up in the Barrel… It was because of him.” Slowly, Wylan looked up at Jesper for a moment, before he cast his eyes downward again. As if he had to make sure that Jesper was still there, no matter that he was holding his hand. “He told me that he’d send me to the music school in Belendt. Needless to say, I was really excited. Two of his men were supposed to take me there. I was really looking forward to seeing the area while we were on the boat, but we went in the middle of the night.”

Jesper had a feeling it had nothing to do with the fares being cheaper, but more to do with nobody seeing them.

“It all happened so quickly. I was… being strangled, unable to breathe anymore, and I panicked. I really can’t tell you everything that happened, because it’s a bit of a blur, but I ended up in the water, and that was the best thing to happen in the end. Otherwise, I wouldn't have survived this. I only had what I had in my satchel at that time, but at least, I found a place to stay for a start, and then some work at the tannery.”

“I’m really glad you were in that water and managed to save yourself. Saints, Wylan, this is… I don’t even have words.” Jesper needed a moment to process all this. He’d always known that Jan van Eck wasn’t a good person, but that he’d punished his son that way, had even tried to get rid of him, he wouldn’t have imagined in his wildest dreams.

“I’m still struggling to comprehend all this. I mean, I wasn’t even sure whether my father had ordered them to kill me or whether it had been someone else who’d paid them well enough to go behind my father’s back.”

“That’s understandable.” Though after everything Jesper had heard, he was rather sure that van Eck had put them up to this. Still, he understood that Wylan didn’t want to believe that, still holding onto the idea that his father had some shred of love left for him. Jesper wasn’t so optimistic about this.

“I hope… you understand why I didn’t want to talk about this. It’s a past life. This mansion, it’s not a home for me. It’s a place I used to live in, but ever since my mother’s passing, it hasn’t felt like a home at all.”

“You do have a home here, though.” Jesper slowly let go of Wylan’s hand only to pull him closer with one arm around him, raising the other hand to cup his cheek and make Wylan look at him.

“Do I? You don’t want to get rid of me?” Wylan’s voice was even quieter than before, making jesper’s heart ache for him.

“Of course I don’t want to get rid of you. I-” love you. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but they wouldn’t come over his lips. Not like that. “You have your own little dysfunctional and slightly mad family here, Wy, nothing’s gonna change that. And I never wanted to make you doubt that, okay?” Wylan nodded. “I’m sorry that I made you sad and worried.”

“I know.” Wylan pressed his cheek against Jesper’s hand, needing his touch more than he’d like to admit. “And I understand that you needed a moment to yourself.”

“I did… but I’m glad that you told me all of this. Thank you.”

“Thank you for allowing me to tell you all this.”

“You can always talk to me, I hope you know that now.”

“I do.”

Wylan was the one to kiss him first, and it was like he’d been waiting all day for this to happen, which was ridiculous, but it felt like that. Kissing Wylan was one of the most wonderful things in the world, and it always felt special, like Jesper couldn’t believe his luck that he got to kiss this wonderful man. And he wanted to keep doing it for the rest of his life, and he was starting with that right now. They both needed this, needed to be close to each other, and this night, they slept even more tangled up in each other than they usually did. In the end, all of this had brought them closer together, and jesper was glad that he now knew what had happened to Wylan.

That had been the last bit of peace and quiet, because they next night, they were fighting for their lives when it wasn’t as easy to get on the schooner as they’d hoped. It was hectic, it was a mess, and Jesper was just glad that he could keep an eye on Wylan. The problem was that he couldn’t find the others. He had no idea where Kaz and Inej were, and Nina and Matthias had to be at least close to them somewhere. The attack had come out of nowhere, and now Jesper needed to find the others, see if he could help them somehow, but therefore, he needed to see something.

“I need to get the high ground. Keep them back and distracted as long as you can.” He directed his words at Wylan, not really wanting to leave him alone down here, but he didn’t really have a choice.

“Jesper—” began Wylan

“No one gets past you. If they take down this schooner, we’re done for.”Jesper seized the moment to kiss Wylan, before he climbed up the mast. He was nearly at the crow’s nest, when he felt a sharp, searing pain in his thigh. One of them shot a bullet right through the flesh and Jesper nearly lost his footing, but he knew that the others needed his help, and so he tried his best to ignore the pain and pulled himself up. As soon as he was up there, he raised his rifle and started shooting. It was a mess, but at least, he could make out Matthias and Nina. More than ten men were in their way and they’d need some help. There was still no sign of Inej and Kaz.

“Jesper!” he heard Wylan call out to him, but chose to ignore him, because he needed to focus to shoot. But then Wylan called again, this time even more insistent. “Jesper!”

“What do you want?” He couldn’t be under direct attack, Jesper had checked that before, and Wylan wasn’t alone down there, since Rott was with him.

“Close your eyes.”

What in Ghezen’s name… Was he joking around now?

“You can’t kiss me from down there, Wylan,” Jesper called back, still trying to focus on his next target, but at least he hadn’t lost his sense of humour or his will to flirt with Wylan.

“Just do it!”

“As long as I’ll get kisses later on…” Jesper said more to himself, before he closed his eyes. “This better be good.”

“Are they closed?”

“Damn it, Wylan, yes they’re—” Jesper immediately understood why Wylan had told him to close his eyes when bright light bloomed behind Jesper’s lids, and there was a shrill, shrieking sound. Jesper’s heart jumped in his throat, and he stayed like this for a moment longer. Once he opened his eyes again, he was able to focus on the other men, who had been blinded by Wylan’s flash bomb, and he started shooting again. He could kiss Wylan, and he would once they’d left the shore with everyone on board.

So much for kissing Wylan once they were a safe distance from the shore. It had been an even bigger mess than jesper had thought. Nina had taken care of his thigh and he was able to walk with relatively little pain, Wylan had been patched up as well, but the way Inej looked… Jesper was really worried. He might shoot people, he might defend himself, but seeing his friends, his family injured, it really got to him. Especially with all the blood Inej had lost. He’d been on edge, worrying about her, and Kaz hadn’t really made it any better with his behaviour.

Jesper had wanted to get some answers out of Oomen as well, had dragged him to the rail with Matthias, but he wouldn’t have been able to do what Kaz had done. Jesper had held the man, but when Kaz had used his knife and ripped out Oomen’s eye, Jesper had nearly keeled over. He’d heard Wylan as well, but hadn’t been able to get to him. The more he’d heard, the more he’d worried about this whole situation, because with Pekka Rollins in the picture, things would get even nastier. He should have expected Kaz to throw Oomen overboard, but it had caught him a little off-guard. Maybe that had also been because of Wylan’s reaction. Despite hanging with the Dregs for a while now, things like this still surprised Wylan, and Jesper could see why.

“Do you want to go over too?” Kaz had asked him, and Wylan had shown some spite with his reaction.

“You won’t throw me overboard. You need me.”

“Maybe. But I’m not in a very rational mood.”

That had been Jesper’s moment to step in. He’d known Kaz long enough to know that this was no situation in which he’d be able to talk to Kaz. Not with Inej below deck, unconscious by the hands of the man he’d just thrown into the water.

“Let it go.” He’d said, putting a hand on Wylan’s shoulder to draw his attention to himself and away from Kaz.

“It’s not right—”

“Wylan,” Jesper had given him a gentle shake, so that Wylan had finally turned to look at him. “Maybe your tutors didn’t cover this lesson, but you do not argue with a man covered in blood and a knife up his sleeve.”

Wylan had looked at him for a moment, before he’d broken free from his touch and walked past him to get below deck. Jesper had wanted to go after him, but Kaz had had some other plans for him, and so he’d been busy.

He had a feeling that Wylan was avoiding him. They weren’t sleeping at the same time usually, and when Jesper went below deck to look after Wylan, he seemed to already be asleep - or pretending to be so they didn’t have to talk, jesper couldn’t be sure. Conversations were brief, but that was on both sides, since they were all worried about Inej. Once she was doing better, Jesper felt more alive again. While Wylan and Kaz talked more and Wylan got some instructions for things to do and prepare from Kaz, Jesper was going a little crazy, because he didn’t have that much to do. And in a way it irked him that Wylan seemed to be spending more time with Matthias. Yes, it was due to the job, but he wanted to be by Wylan’s side as well. He missed him, which was ridiculous, since they were on a small boat, so they were always kind of close. Maybe it was the privacy that was missing, because they could always talk the best when it was just the two of them. Jesper knew that he was being more open then as well. But they didn’t have that here, and he felt like Wylan was slipping away from him. Maybe, he had to finally say out loud what he felt, no matter who was watching or listening. But he needed Wylan to know.

They were getting closer to Fjerda and would probably reach it in the morning. It was late, but Jesper couldn’t sleep, and neither could Wylan and Matthias apparently. They were standing at the bow of the schooner looking ahead, talking to each other. While Jesper didn’t want to interrupt them, he still had to keep an eye on them, because he didn’t want Wylan to vanish below deck again before he got a chance to talk to him.

A gust of wind made him shiver. Luckily, they’d brought appropriate clothes for their journey, so Jesper had been able to change into something that kept him warm. He couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but he saw the way Wylan looked at Matthias. He looked up, then lowered his head again, as if he was contemplating what to say. Wylan stepped a little closer to Matthias, raised his hand as if to console him, but dropped it before he touched him.

When Matthias turned, he nodded at Wylan before he came walking straight towards Jesper. Instinctively, he straightened, squaring his shoulders, because he had no idea what was going to happen. But to be fair, Matthias just looked tired, defeated, almost sad. Nothing Jesper had expected.

“Talk to him,” Matthias said as he stopped next to Jesper. “Tell him before it’s too late.”

“Tell him what?” Jesper’s heart thudded against his ribcage, it was almost painful.

Matthias cast a glance over to where Nina was sitting with Inej, getting some fresh air after spending most of the time below deck. “He needs to know.”

Jesper had apparently not been the only one watching others, because Matthias had watched him as well. But he was right, Wylan needed to know, especially after telling him all that about his father. And he wanted Wylan to hear these words as well, even if it was scary for him to say this. He’d told Wylan that he couldn’t predict what might happen between them, that he’d like to find out, and now he was sure that he didn’t want to spend a day without him anymore.

He took another deep breath before he walked up to Wylan, who was still standing at the rail, looking ahead. In the distance, he could see pinpricks of light glittering against the dark horizon. Fjerda. They’d be able to leave this boat in the morning, hopefully.

“How are you feeling?” he asked Wylan, leaning against the rail, turning his head to the side so he could look at him. Wylan on the other hand kept his eyes on Fjerda.

“Alright I guess.”

“Have you been avoiding me?” Jesper reached out his hand to take Wylan’s, who wasn’t pulling back, but he could see his whole body stiffening, and knew that he was onto something.

“I… I didn’t mean to. Honestly. It’s just been a lot, and there’s so much in my head, I—”

“I get it.” Jesper squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him. “That’s how I felt a couple of days ago when I took that walk.” Because he’d needed some time to himself. Here on the boat, there was no real possibility for Wylan to be completely by himself.

“Thank you for understanding.”

“Of course. I was just worried that I’d done something wrong.”

“No. No you haven’t. Just…” Wylan licked his lips before he kept talking. “When you talked about my tutors—”

“Oh saints, I hadn’t thought about that. I didn’t mean anything by that really.” The last thing he’d wanted, had been to remind Wylan of the life he’d left behind. A life where he had never been good enough. For Jesper, he was the biggest jackpot he’d ever been able to fight for, and he was still hoping that he would win. But therefore, he’d have to put his heart on a plate and hand it over to him, and that was terrifying.

“I know. It just hit me at that moment, and after that… I wanted nothing more than to spend time with you, but it wasn’t really possible. With the things I had to do, and I was just so tired.”

That was a huge relief, because it meant that Wylan hadn’t pretended to be asleep just so he hadn’t needed to talk to him.

“I understand.” Jesper turned more towards him so that he was facing him properly, Wylan’s hand still in his. Now that he knew that it had been more in his head than anything, he could breathe properly again. And he felt his heart full of so much love for Wylan, that he didn’t even think twice about it before he opened his lips to say: “I love you.”

Wylan’s eyes widened, his fingers squeezed around Jesper’s and his mouth opened, but no words came out. For a moment, Wylan just looked at him, until he managed to say: “I don’t deserve you.”

Jesper blinked once, twice, taken aback by that kind of response, because it was nothing he’d ever expected as a reaction to these three little words. When Wylan looked down between them, but still held onto Jesper’s hand, he slowly came back to himself.

“Wylan…” he whispered, shaking his head.

He knew how Wylan had grown up, knew about the things his father had done to him, had indoctrinated him with. Jan van Eck had made Wylan believe that he was unworthy of love, and it broke his heart. Here was the most wonderful, most caring man right in front of him, and he didn’t think that he deserved to be loved. 

“Look at me, Wylan,” he said softly, using his free hand to pinch Wylan’s chin and make him look up at him again. “You deserve everything good in the world. And you deserve to be loved with all the love you put out into the world. Nobody’s gonna stop me from loving you anyway, so whether you think you deserve it or not, won’t change a thing. You have my love, you have my heart.” Jesper smiled, hoping that he could elicit the same reaction in Wylan, and he did. It was a small smile, but it was an honest one. He’d learned to make out the difference.

Wylan let go of Jesper’s hand only to wrap his arms around his neck and kiss him. A heavy weight was lifted from his shoulders upon that kind of reaction. Sometimes, actions spoke louder than words, and Jesper couldn’t describe what this kiss meant to him. He wrapped his arms around Wylan’s middle to hold him close, not wanting to let him go. They had to break apart eventually.

“I love you too.” Wylan’s voice was quiet in the limited space between them, since neither of them wanted to let go of the other one, but no matter how quiet or loud these words were, they made Jesper’s heart nearly jump out of his chest. He’d meant what he’d said, Wylan had his heart, and he knew that it was in the best hands there. Wylan made him happy. So happy that he couldn’t put it into words, but he didn’t even have to. He could just kiss Wylan again and enjoy this moment. Fjerda was waiting for them in the morning, but they had the whole night to themselves to make up for the time the hadn’t spent together on this journey, and Jesper would sure as hell not let go of Wylan for the next couple of hours at least.

[daydreamgoddess14]

The Escape Artist - Chapter 10 - The Finale

Masterlist

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6 | CH 7 | CH 8 | CH 9

Tag list: @moonmaiden1996 @theskytraveler @acrackintheteacup @succulentthief

Here she is, the very last chapter 🥲

When I first had the idea for this fic, I knew it had potential to be something really great as long as I had the guts to stick with it. It's my longest fic by a long way - like 20k words longer - and it's also my most comprehensive. I've tried to let everything breathe rather than rushing through it. I've challenged myself in so many ways and I've honestly loved every second of it.

I can't thank you enough for your patience, support, comments, reblogs... all of it. It's been the most rewarding experience to hear from you all and I've made so many new feral pals.

I love you - I really, really do 💜

Now... shall we wrap this shit up?

Twelve months. For Ella Cole twelve long months had passed since she'd been moved from the Park to Slough House. 

Six months spent living hand to mouth in dirty, dangerous accommodation. 

Six months of realising the life she could have. The life she and Clover should have. 

Always moving one step forward and two steps back. 

She realised she'd never lived alone. Never been solely responsible for herself, or for Clover. 

Eddie had kept her in a gilded cage. Materially wanting for nothing, yet emotionally starved and physically scared. 

Six months ago, she was surviving, going through the motions each day. 

Now, she was thriving. 

She had a job that she loved, friends who cared for her, and a man who was slowly working his way into her heart.

The dogs had been recalled, the house too, but Ella chose to move forward, not back. 

She attended Eddie's funeral, intending to go alone, but JK and River had pulled up outside the bus stop and stood either side of her in the back row of the crematorium. 

She cried. 

A surprise to herself, but not to them. 

As the curtains closed, she mourned fifteen years of her life. She mourned Clover's father. 

She didn't mourn the man himself. 

As she cried, she was cleansed. 

Emerging from her prison not a new woman, but a changed one. 

Stronger, safer, happier. 

She threw herself into creating a stable future for Clover. 

Access to her own healthy bank accounts. 

A small house just for them.

Ella felt no shame in spending the money in hers and Eddie's joint accounts.

Hefty anonymous donations to women's shelters across London. 

The fight over properties, the businesses, the life insurance was still to be had, but the accounts were hers.

River read her mind.

There when she needed him, absent when he sensed she needed to retreat into herself.

Quietly championing her, and Clover, at every turn. 

For the most part, Ella felt peace.

But the dark spectre of Diana Taverner hung over her like a cloud. 

The knowledge that she was only ever one phone call away from prison still held her back. 

It prevented her from reaching out to her family after so long. 

It stopped her from opening herself up to, and fully trusting, River. 

It held her back from openly, vocally and voraciously loving him. 

*

Ella sank into River’s sofa with a happy sigh.

“At this rate, I’ll be co-parenting both kids with Lucy’s parents,” she smiled. “We’re gonna have some shared custody agreement going on.”

“It’s good that she’s got a proper friend.” 

“It is.”

“Did you know Coe has volunteered to help on the school trip to the Houses of Parliament?”

“Probably planning his own Guy Fawkes event.” Ella said with a giggle. “Or that side hustle in school security actually happened.”

River agreed distractedly.

“You ok?” She asked.

"I need to tell you something," he said suddenly. Her face paled, a flicker of worry crossing her face. 

"Alright," she said slowly, bracing herself for what was to come.

She assumed that he wanted to cool off whatever was going on between them. 

“It’s all fun and games til someone nearly gets arrested for murder, eh?” She smiled weakly.

"When you first came to the hospital, and Clo was getting snacks?" Her eyes widened, realising where he was going instead.

"No," she whispered. 

"I wanted to tell you sooner -"

"You were awake?" she guessed, her face flushed with embarrassment 

River grimaced, knowing that the next part would be difficult. 

"Yeah, I was. I woke up just before you...you -" he trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

"Oh my god," she panicked. "I was so stressed and so scared -"

"Did you mean it?" He interrupted.

"Mean what?" she asked, but the fear in her eyes told him she knew exactly what he was referring to.

"Ella," he said, his voice hoarse. "You said... you said you loved me," he implored 

Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. 

"I... I -" she stammered, unable to form a coherent response.

The room fell silent, the weight of her confession hanging in the air between them.

"I did say that..." she said hesitantly. "You had just been shot saving my daughter.”

"I remember." He gently reached for her hand, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. "I was just wondering if you really meant it. Or was it just the adrenaline speaking?”

"River, I... did you hear the rest? It’s been so long, why are you only telling me now? Did you hear me say that I’m a total fuck up? That I'm no good for you?" she pleaded.

River loosened his grip on her hand, noticing her visible nerves. 

"I heard everything," he assured her gently. "But I don't believe for a second that you're not good enough for me.”

She looked at her hands and rubbed them distractedly. 

"I've got blood on my hands, River. I'm a murderer. You can't possibly think that this is a good idea?”

His heart ached at the pain in her voice, but he was determined to make her see her worth. 

"It was self-defence, El. He was about to…" he gritted his teeth in anger, "he was about to rape you. I couldn't get to you, I tried -"

"I know you did, I know." She said tearfully. 

"He deserved it. You did what you had to do," he said softly, his voice filled with regret for not being able to prevent what had happened. "It wasn't your fault.”

"So why can't I wash the blood off?" She whispered fearfully. 

River sighed at her question. He gently took her hands in his and rubbed his thumbs soothingly over her knuckles. 

"It's not about washing it off, Ella. You need to forgive yourself," he said tenderly. "You're not a monster.”

"You don't want me," she told him as she tried to remove her hands from his. "No one ever has, not really.”

River's grip on her hands tightened reflexively. "That's not true," he said, his voice firm. "I want you.” He said fiercely, his voice shaking with conviction. "I'm still here, aren't I? I've been here the whole time?”

She looked doubtful. 

“River, I was nearly arrested. For murder.” She shook her head. “I was fucking stupid to think I could escape this shitshow. How did I think killing Eddie would be the end?”

“They’ve released you without charge. You are free.”

Her stomach turned. She knew she couldn’t keep it from him any longer.

“Because of Taverner,” she said, shamefully.

“What do you mean because of Taverner? What did she do?”

“She arranged to have me released without charge. Told them that the Park was taking over the investigation and that I was still her employee.”

“She fucking owes you anyway, using you to get to Eddie -”

“She sees it the other way around. I’m very much indebted to her. She’s going to want something in return, she always does. It’s a never ending cycle of owing someone something. I don’t want you involved in that.” She sighed.

“No, fuck that, we can fix this,” he snapped.

“I don’t think we can. She threatened to hand me over to the police. She wanted me back at the Park but I refused,” Ella put her head in her hands. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Ella, we will fix this. Did you mean what you said?" River's gaze softened as he went back to their original conversation, his voice gentle yet filled with hope.

She sighed, knowing that she was unable to lie to him.

"Yes," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. 

River's heart leapt at her quiet admission, a rush of emotions flooding through him. For a moment, all he could do was stare at her in disbelief. 

"Really?" he asked, his voice hoarse from the surge of joy and relief coursing through him.

Ella nodded, a small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. 

“But -”

“No, no buts, you’ve said it now,” he smiled.

“River, stop! This isn’t over, Taverner is bound to come knocking again?” The smile faded. 

“So we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it,” he told her firmly. “Besides,” he pulled her rigid body into his lap, “there’s something to be said about falling in love with a woman capable of murder,” he kissed a path up her neck to the spot that made her knees buckle. Her knees sank into the sofa either side of his thighs. 

She looked at him again, her eyes searching his, silently questioning his turn of phrase.

“I'm serious. You should break things off.” Ella told him, shifting back to put some space between them. 

“I should do what?” He asked, incredulously. “Why the fuck would I do that?”

“You should. You have to be the one to do it. End it right now. Please.” 

‘I can't. I won't do that, El. I love you, and I love Clover… And before you argue with me, I know that that comes with responsibilities. Clover is not going to be the thing that scares me off. Nothing is going to change how I feel about both of you.” He paused, making sure his words were sinking in. Making sure Ella was really listening. “Don't be a coward, Ella. If you want this to end, then you can do it. This is something more. Something real, and if you don't want that, that's fine, but don't expect me to break it off for you. We will fix this.”

Ella sat, stunned into silence by River's confession. The sincerity in his voice and the certainty in his statement had caught her off guard. She felt her heart skip a beat, her mind struggling to catch up with the reality of his words.

"You... you love me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, Ella, I do. And Clover too, even the bloody dog.”

Ella's eyes widened at his admission. It was almost too much to wrap her head around. She let out a disbelieving laugh, a mixture of emotions coursing through her.

"The dog?" she repeated, her voice tinged with incredulity.

"Maybe the dog goes above Clo -" Ella interrupted him with an ineffectual slap on his arm. "Alright, alright, maybe they're both above you," he continued teasing. 

Ella rolled her eyes playfully at his teasing remark. 

"You're impossible," she said, shaking her head, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"It has been mentioned before," he acknowledged with a wry smile. "I'm also not going anywhere," he told her, his fingers lacing through her hair and trying to draw her closer.

Ella's breath hitched as River's fingers tangled in her hair, the gentle tug pulling her closer to him. She tried to resist the pull, her mind still wrestling with her fears, but he was making it so difficult to fight against the powerful connection between them.

"You shouldn't be so stubborn," she whispered, her voice tinged with both irritation and affection. “I'm trying to stop you from fucking up your life.”

He shrugged. "That's already my own doing, you really think telling me to bloody break it off is what we both want?" There was a note of frustration in his voice that she'd even ask such a thing of him. 

Ella felt a pang of guilt in her chest.

“Can you blame me for trying to protect you?”

"I don't need protecting, Ella. Least of all from Diana Taverner. You're the one who's been through hell, give yourself a chance.”

Ella's eyes flashed with a mix of stubborn pride and vulnerability at his words. She wanted to argue, to protest at his assertion, but there was a part of her that knew he was right. She had been through so much, and perhaps she was the one who needed the protection more than him.

"Speechless for once?" He teased lightly. Ella's cheeks flushed pink, a mixture of defensiveness and embarrassment. She had been caught off guard by his assertiveness.

"Shut up," she muttered, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Open goal there," he whispered, pulling her closer and grazing his lips against hers, "means I get to say ‘make me’," he smirked. 

Ella's heart skipped a beat as he pulled her closer, the whisper of his words and the brush of his lips against hers sending a rush of desire through her. Her eyes narrowed at his challenge, a spark of defiance igniting in her gaze.

"Oh, you want me to make you shut up?" she asked in a low voice, a hint of daring in her tone. "Let me guess," she said, her nose brushing against his, "you were thinking something like this?" Her tongue traced over his lower lip as he pulled her in deeply. “I'm a dangerous woman, don't forget,” she murmured against his lips. 

River's breath hitched, the sensation sent a jolt of electricity through him. He leaned into her, his arms tightening around her in response to her playful challenge.

"Mm," he murmured in response, his voice a mixture of pleasure and amusement, "a dangerous woman? I don't think so. How do you think shutting me up is going?”

"I think you're still talking far too much, actually" she said, her eyes twinkling. 

River chuckled, his fingers traced along her back, pulling her flush against his chest.

"Is that so? I take it this little disagreement about how you’re stuck with me is over?" her lips captured his in a gentle yet passionate kiss, effectively silencing his words for the moment.

Ella trembled against him, the kiss sending heat and longing straight to her core. 

She felt herself melting into his embrace, the heat and desire within her growing with every second they were together. 

She pressed herself closer against him, her hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt, her body responding to his touch.

River deepened the kiss, his hands roaming over her body, possessive yet tender in their touch. 

River's lips trailed down her throat, exploring every inch of her skin. 

When he reached her collarbone, he couldn't resist the desire to graze his teeth against her sensitive flesh, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from her. 

He could feel the way her body responded, the way she slid deeper into his lap. 

"Bed, River, please," she gasped as his hands skimmed over her hips. 

The sound of her pleading sent a thrilling jolt through River. 

He pressed a possessive hand to her hip, his fingers digging into her flesh. 

"Bed," he agreed, his voice hoarse with his own desire. "Now.”

River led her through the flat, the anticipation practically crackling in the air between them. 

His hands tingled with the memory of her body, the way her skin burned beneath his touch. 

He could hardly wait to explore every inch of her once more, to feel the heat between them flaring to life with a simple graze of his fingers across her flesh.

Ella found the bottom edge of his t-shirt, her fingertips running across his stomach. 

She brushed the pad of her thumb lightly over his scar out of habit, and went to pull the t-shirt over his head

River gasped slightly as her fingertips brushed across his stomach, his muscles twitching involuntarily beneath her touch. He lifted his arms to make it easier for her to remove his shirt, the fabric falling away and baring his chest to her.

Her eyes raked over his chest, unable to hide her hunger for him. 

She reached for the button of his jeans but he stopped her. 

"Not yet," he rasped, running a finger down the row of buttons on her shirt.

Ella's hand paused in mid-air as he gently restrained her, his fingers wrapping around her wrist and stilling her movement. 

The raw rasp of his voice as he spoke sent a shiver down her spine.

With a possessive gleam in his eyes, he took her shirt between his fingers, slowly undoing the buttons one by one with a slow, deliberate pace.

Ella stifled a moan as his mouth followed his fingers, leaving hot, wet kisses down her body tracing a path down the skin he’d unveiled. River lifted his head just enough to speak against her skin, his voice a low rumble that sent tingles down her spine. "I want to hear you," he whispered, his lips brushing against her flesh as he teased her. "Let me hear the sounds you make for me.”

He pulled her closer to the bed. Discarding her shirt, he popped the button on her jeans. 

"How come you get to -" her protest died on her tongue as his large hands slid them down her thighs, taking her underwear with them. As the material pooled at her feet, he gazed at her hungrily, his expression full of desire and admiration.

"You were saying?" he teased, his eyes roaming over her body, taking in every inch of her curves.

He urged her onto the bed and stood in front of her. 

"My turn," she looked up at him, her much smaller hand brushing over the front of his jeans.

“I'm starting to think you don't want me to break it off after all."

“You always have to be right don’t you?” She rolled her eyes.

Ella's fingers worked the button on his jeans, slipping them down his thighs. As she did, her hands brush his taut muscles, the feel of his skin and strength under her touch making her cunt ache for him. 

She knew at that moment what she needed more than anything.

River's eyes locked on her as her tongue traced over her lips. He took a step closer, closing the distance between them, his body practically thrumming with need.  

Ella's voice was just as soft as her gaze raked over his body, taking in every inch of him. She couldn't hide the desire in her eyes even if she wanted to.  

"Maybe," River replied, his lips pulling into a smirk as he stalked her up the bed. She moved back up the bed, he followed. "But it’s only because I know you don't really want to end this.”

He was confident enough that she'd only suggested it because she thought it was the right thing to do, not because it was what she wanted. 

River positioned himself over her, his strong frame caging her beneath him. The feel of his weight pressing her into the bed only made her need him more, her body instinctively arching towards him.

"Please," she breathed, "please." His hand dragged over her thigh and around to cup her ass, pressing her core to him.

"Please, what?" he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Tell me what you need.”

She whined, frustrated, her hips moving of their own accord, searching for friction

River watched her, his eyes darkened with desire as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "You need this? Is this what you're aching for?"

He rocked his hips, his body pressed impossibly close to hers. 

Her lips brushed against his earlobe pleadingly, her voice a desperate, trembling whisper. 

"River," she begged, her body arching against his as much as she could in her current position.

River let out a low moan, the sound somewhere between a sigh and a growl. 

She gasped out her words, "I need more. I need all of you," her voice was desperate and needy, her body restless beneath him. “I don't want this to end. I’m all in if you are.”

River's body tensed at her words, his own need for her burning like a wildfire in his veins. His last bit of control shattered at her words. 

The feel of his body so close to hers made everything inside her clench with need. He could hear her breathing, fast and harsh, her chest rising and falling in time with his.

“Will you trust me?” He asked, his voice raw with need. Ella nodded hesitantly.

He propped himself up on his side, his hand tracing a soft path down her arm. "Turn over," he instructed, his voice gentle yet firm. She wavered, close to protesting, but did as he requested. "On your hands and knees," he instructed, his voice low and rough.

Ella rose onto her knees, the change in position making her feel more exposed. She took a moment to steady herself, bracing her hands on the bed in front of her.

River moved behind her, his hands trailing over her hips, possessive and firm. "That's it, El," he praised, his voice a low rumble. "I’m going to undo every bad memory you have.”

He groaned softly as she arched her back, her body practically begging for his touch. His fingers gripping her flesh as he watched her respond to him.

Ella's voice was pleading, her words a ragged whisper as she begged for him. "River," she sighed, her body trembling with desire.

His own body was taut with need. Hearing her beg for him only fueled the fire that was burning inside him.

He shifted his position slightly, pressing himself against her. "I want you only to remember the good," he murmured, his voice rough.

Ella's voice was a soft, ragged whisper, her breathing coming in ragged gasps. "Only you," she interpreted, her body trembling at the feel of him against her.

River's grip on her hips tightened, his control slipping a little at her words. Her devotion to him, only him, was almost too much to bear after everything she’d been through.

His own voice was rough with desire, his breath coming in shallow pants as he spoke. "I want to make you feel so good," he repeated, his mouth moving over her neck and shoulder, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses in its wake.

His hands slid up her sides, trying to map out every inch of her body with his hands.

Ella's skin burned where he touched her, practically craving his touch. She arched her back, pressing herself further into him, needing more of his touch, of his presence.

Her voice was a desperate plea, her words tumbling out in a ragged gasp. "Need you, Riv, need you now, please, please," she begged.

River groaned softly against her skin, his own need for her almost overwhelming. He knew he couldn't hold back much longer, not with her begging and pleading so beautifully.

River's voice was a low, deep growl, his breath hot against her ear. "You've got me, love," he murmured. "I'm here." He held his hard cock in his fist, running the weeping head through her folds.

His other hand gripped her hips a little tighter, pulling her closer to him, his body molding against hers. She could feel the tense, coiled energy in his frame and cried out as he pushed into her. Her body arching against his as the pleasure washed over her, her senses completely overwhelmed by the feel of him inside.

"God, Ella," River groaned, his arms shaking as he held himself above her. 

She sought out his hand, gripping it tightly, her trepidation still clear. 

His other hand moved across her chest, pulling her upright, her back pressing against his chest. She could feel the heat of his body radiating against hers, the hard planes of his muscles against her soft flesh. 

Her knees spread wider and she sank further down onto him, her body quaking. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispered into her ear. 

The grip on his hand loosened and he let go, holding her against his chest with a hand cupping her breast. She gasped at the unexpected depth, at the way he brushed her g-spot with every thrust as he fucked up into her.

“God, River -” her voice broke. 

Ella felt his body wrap around hers, holding her up. 

She felt safe. 

He moved slowly inside her, burying his face in the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her skin. 

Her breath came in snatched gasps as she met his every move, rising and falling on his pulsing cock. 

River picked up the pace, pinching her pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

A low moan tore from his throat as she reached behind herself to run her fingers through his hair. 

His teeth grazed over her shoulder before biting down softly.

Her head fell back against his shoulder, her body melting into his, completely trusting and submissive. From this angle, he had a perfect view down her body, his eyes roaming over her breasts and the place where their bodies met.

River's breathing became ragged and heavy, the sight of her body against his own almost too much to bear. He pressed his body even closer to hers, the heat between them almost unbearable.

Ella leaned on him, her body moving in a slow, fluid roll of her hips, a silent plea for more. Her hands gripped his arms, using his strength to keep herself upright, her body completely surrendered to him.

River groaned at the feel of her moving against him, his body responding instantly to her touch. He held her tighter, his arms anchoring her to him.

He moved the hand that wasn’t holding her up and brought it around to her clit.

The thrust of her hips faltered and she looked down at his hand before covering it with her own, guiding him to where she really needed him. 

The arm across her breasts held her tighter as her legs began to shake. The first tremors of her climax starting to build as he split her open.

"Jesus, River," she gasped, her body arching.

His response was a low, rough whisper against her neck. "I know," he agreed, his lips and teeth continuing their assault on her sensitive skin. He wanted to mark her, to make sure she would remember this moment, remember him.

Ella felt the pressure low in her belly, the intensity of their connection making her legs tremble and her breath come in ragged gasps.

River could feel the tension in her body, the way she was holding on by a thread. "Let go, baby," he murmured against her neck, his voice rough.

Her cry was lost in her throat, her mouth open but no sound escaping. Waves of pleasure coursed through her body, almost too much to bear.

The rhythmic tempo of her hips stuttered again as her whole body trembled. 

“Let me hear you, El,” he pleaded. 

“River,” she whimpered, “fuck, River -” 

His grip on her hips tightened at her words, his own control hanging by a thread. "You have no idea how good you feel, baby," he growled, his breath hot against her skin.

Her hand found his thigh, her fingers digging into his flesh, a desperate attempt to anchor herself as her body trembled with ecstasy.

She cried out his name, the words a ragged gasp of pleasure and need. "Riverr," she moaned, her voice breaking on a high, keening note.

With her release, River held her tighter, his grip unyielding as he followed right behind her, the walls of her cunt tightening around him as he spilled into her.

He groaned loudly, his body shuddering against hers, his arms holding her tightly, his face buried in the curve of her shoulder.

Ella crumpled against him, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her skin flushed and glowing with sweat. Her hand found its way to his hair, her fingers running through the damp locks, a soothing, affectionate motion.

River held her close, his chest heaving as he tried to regain his breath, his arms wrapped around her like a lifeline.

Her voice was a soft whisper, a touch of amazement in her tone as she spoke. "Oh my god," she repeated quietly, her body still trembling with aftershocks.

River chuckled softly in response, his hold on her tightening just a little. "You all right?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

“Told you to trust me,” he said quietly into her ear. He pulled away from her, he moved slowly, giving her a moment to catch her breath, continuing to tease her with light kisses along her neck and collarbone.

Her voice was soft, filled with wonder, as she mumbled her question. "Where've you been all this time?"

River chuckled softly, his arms tightening around her as he pulled her closer, her back pressing against his chest. "Waiting for you," he teased, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

��As if,” she scoffed, rolling her hips against him. “You’re too cute to wait for anyone.”

River groaned softly at the feeling of her wriggling against him, the heat between them reigniting. Her words sent a wave of desire through him.

His voice was a low, possessive growl, his words a challenge and a promise all in one. "Not you, time to show you everything you've missed out on," he said, his hands roaming her body, caressing and claiming.

River nuzzled at the sensitive spot behind her ear, his lips warm against her skin. Ella couldn't prevent the low, guttural sound that escaped her. Her body was not used to being treated this way, being adored and pleasured so completely.

River pressed his lips to her skin, his hands roaming over her curves, taking his time to memorize every inch of her. "You have no idea how good it feels to make you feel good, Ella," he murmured against her neck.

Her need was undeniable, a fierce, aching thing that burned through every inch of her. Despite the tender ache in her thighs and core, she found herself wanting more, needing more.

River's lips continued to roam over her neck, his hands still exploring her body, his touch firm yet gentle. He could feel her need, the way she was arching into him, and it only fueled his own desire.

"You ready for more?" he asked, his voice a low growl against her skin.

Ella’s voice was soft, almost vulnerable, as she spoke. "I didn’t know it could be like this,” she said softly, her body relaxing against him.

River chuckled softly, his lips still against her skin. River could hear her small whine as he moved away, her body missing the contact with him. The thought of her craving his touch set something ablaze inside of him. He pulled her to lay with him but she sat up on his thighs.

“My favourite view,” he told her. Her eagerness, her new found confidence, only fueled his own desire.

His gaze was fixed on her hand as it slowly traced down her body, her movements deliberate and teasing. River's eyes darkened with growing desire as he watched, his body tensing with anticipation. "Show me how to touch you," he asked quietly. Her breath hitched, her body still sensitive from his previous attentions, his cum still coating her thighs.

His eyes roved over her body, watching as she worked her clit with her other hand at her breast, his own need growing at the sight.

River's breathing became ragged as he watched, his hands resting on her thighs, desperate to touch her. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with admiration.

“I thought of you,” she whispered, blushing. The admission sent a bolt of desire through him.

He rose up onto his elbows for a better view, his voice a low, possessive growl, "You think about me when you touch yourself?" he asked, his eyes burning into hers. She nodded

Her back arched as she crept closer to release, the hand at her breast kneading and pinching. Her eyes didn't leave River's, wanting him to see her come undone.

River's eyes darkened further, the possessive edge becoming even more pronounced as he watched her writhing above him. "Don't look away," he instructed. 

She held his gaze as she reached her peak, crying out for him.

She slumped, boneless, and moved to lay next to him. 

River took hold of her wrist, bringing her hand up to his mouth. He wrapped his tongue around her fingers, tasting her.

“Best thing I’ve ever watched,” he told her once he’d released her fingers with a pop. She felt her cheeks heat up, a blush creeping onto her face.

“I can’t believe I did that,” she confessed, still breathless.

He pressed against her, the evidence of his arousal clear, she felt a shiver of desire run down her spine.

“I’m glad you did,” he murmured, “it was beautiful.”

“Don’t be daft,” she said, brushing off the compliment.

He pressed against her again, his body still taut with wanting, “I mean it.” He insisted.

He rolled her onto her back, lining himself up against her core. “I’m not going to let you forget it, El. If it takes a lifetime, I’ll replace every single bad memory with a new one.”

He sank into her, swallowing her moans, helping her forge a new path.

*

Taverner tapped her nails impatiently, unused to being the one summoned. 

“How fortuitous that I'm here.” She declared. 

“Why's that then?” Ella asked from the doorway. 

“Well, seems a good time to request you back at the Park. I have you some grace by letting you stay here a little longer. Time's up now.” Ella hesitated, looking to Lamb and Standish for support.

River sensed Ella's discomfort. 

"What do you want with her?" River demanded, his voice firm but controlled. “Why do you need her at the Park?”

"I want her service, she owes me, Cartwright, and it's time she comes back where I can keep a closer eye on her.”

Taverner's words hung in the air like a dark cloud. River bristled at her words, his jaw clenching with suppressed anger. "She's not your puppet," he said, his voice low and angry. "She doesn't owe you anything.”

"I think you'll find she does," Taverner turned to Ella, "You didn't tell your little friends? The only reason she's not rotting in prison is because I got hold of the investigation. All I need to do is hand her over to the police."

"For what possible reason? You know her ex-husband was a bully, you know he nearly killed her. Just let it go," River said angrily.

Taverner turned her attention to River, a hint of a sneer tugging at the corner of her mouth. "The reason is simple," she said coolly. "She killed him and got away with it."

River's anger was barely contained now. "And you think that gives you the right to use her like a pawn? You're out of your mind, Taverner.”

"I know you love to bend everyone to your will, Diana," Lamb interrupted, "but really? Is this the hill you want to die on? Sending a battered woman down for a murder which was quite obviously self defence? No jury would convict her and you damn well know it.”

Lamb's interruption caused a slight fissure in Taverner's composure. She shot him a venomous glare before turning her attention back to Ella.

"I suppose you think you're above the law, is that it?" Taverner snapped. "Just because you were a victim doesn't give you the right. And Cartwright," she shot a sharp glance at him, "I wouldn't expect you to understand. You've always assumed yourself above your station.”

"Above the law? Diana, pull the other one. I'd run out of fingers and toes counting your indiscretions." Lamb laughed mockingly. 

Despite her attempts to maintain control of the situation, Taverner seemed to realize that she didn't have a strong case against Ella. Her expression was a mix of frustration and anger, but there was no denying that Lamb's words had hit their mark.

"We'll see about that," she snarled, but her voice lacked its usual certainty.

"You have authorised worse and you know it. Give up Di, there are better ways to exert control." Lamb warned.

Taverner's eyes flashed with anger. "Don't tell me how to do my job," she snapped, her voice laced with bitterness.

But despite her harsh words, there was a hint of uncertainty in her gaze. She knew Lamb was right; she had authorised far worse without a second thought.

"Heaven forbid," he raised his hands. "Drop it, Di. Pick a better battle.”

Despite Lamb's mocking tone, his words seemed to penetrate Taverner's defenses. There was a moment of silence as she considered her options. Finally, she let out a frustrated sigh, "Fine. I'll let it go... for now. But don't think you're going to get off scot-free.” She pointed directly at Lamb. 

"Never," he mocked. "Always in your pocket, Diana.”

Lamb's words dripped with sarcasm, the corner of his mouth lifting in a slight smirk. “Always at your beck and call.”

“You’ll continue to use me,” Ella said aloud, recalling her conversation with River.

“Nonsense, this draws a line under the whole thing.” Taverner sighed defeatedly.

“Do I have to go back, then?” Ella looked from Taverner to Lamb. “Do you not want me here?” Ella asked him desperately.

“She can stay. If she wants to. I don’t give a shit either way to be honest, as long as she doesn’t forget the jaffa cakes.” Lamb said to Taverner.

“Jesus christ, Lamb. I’m honestly astounded as to why these idiots choose to stay here over literally any other job in the world.”

“You and me both, Di. Must be my winning charm.”

“Hmm. If you say so,” she looked him up and down disdainfully. She turned back to Ella, “I can hardly complain, can I?”

Ella stood, her hands balled into fists. River moved directly in front of her, blocking Taverner from her eyeline.

“Let it go, El.” She opened her mouth to argue but relented at the insistence in his eyes. “It’s over now,” he said firmly. 

She didn’t trust herself to speak without directing her anger at Taverner, so she kept quiet. 

No one saw Taverner out.

“Put the kettle on then, if you’re sticking around.” Lamb instructed halfway up the stairs to his office. “And I expect daily jaffa cakes now, since you’re Miss Moneybags.”

“Where'd you think you're going?” Catherine called up to him. “Get your coat, Jackson, we've got to get to the school.”

“Why on earth am I going to a school, Standish?”

Ella reached for her coat, but River got there first and held it open for her. 

“Clo wants you to come and see her gymnastics show, remember?” 

Lamb reappeared, looking annoyed, but carrying his coat regardless. 

“The kid's got a father figure, she don't need another,” he looked over at River. 

“A grandfather wouldn't go amiss though,” Ella told him with a straight face. Behind him, Standish was having less luck, a giggle bubbling behind the hand she'd clamped over her mouth. 

“I can still send you back, Cole,” he muttered, taking the stairs. Halfway down, Louisa, Shirley and Coe were all waiting. “The fuck is this?”

“Family outing. Who kicked out the wicked stepmother?” Shirley asked. 

“Boss man did.” Ella told her with a grin. 

“Will you lot get a move on? We're going to miss her group routine,” Ho shouted up the stairs. 

“Sorry, sorry, we're coming,” Catherine appeased him on the way past, “two cars - Roddy and River, yours?” River held up his keys. 

“Yep, got mine.” he waited while Ella let the others head down the stairs before her. 

“She's going to go mad that we're all turning up,” Ella smiled up at him. 

“She'll love it,” he insisted, pulling her into a deep kiss once Louisa had rounded the landing out of sight. “And I love you, in case I haven't said it enough yet.”

*

FIN

If you think I'm ditching you now this is finished, then think again!

I have a few lovely prompts to get through for River x Sid which I'm so looking forward to, and I've had some glorious Ficmas requests - get in on the action if you haven't already - it's my gift to you! 🎄

And then of course, once the festive season is over.... we get to meet The Thief 👀

[peridotglimmer]

Hi Belle! For the fic author ask :)

How about Drunken Confessions trope, Hitman fandom (Diana/47 or Diana/Grey)?

I definitely haven't written that for any of my fandoms before, as far as I can recall anyway.

I picked 47/Diana: Post-canon, they're living in the Freelancer mansion as friends. It's just easier that way: no need for burner phones and clandestine rendezvous all the time when you can just discuss the new job over breakfast, and the home is more than large enough for two anyway. There's obviously only one bedroom (no, 47, the infirmary doesn't count), but Diana reassures him that sleeping in the same bed is perfectly fine.

When 47 has to head back over to Mendoza, he takes multiple crates of different wines back home. And when Diana is home alone one summer night while 47 is in some nondescript hotel in South Tyrol for three days to keep up his businessman alias, she's feeling nostalgic.

The Malbec is an easy wine, and before she's truly realised it, she's four glasses in. And well, she might as well finish the bottle now. The taste and smell of the Malbec brings her back to Mendoza, watching 47 move through the vineyard, having him closer to her than ever before in that tango, and yet so far away. The way the Ether poison burnt through her glove, even though the scientists had assured her it wouldn't. She absentmindedly rubs at the scar it left on her ring finger. The irony.

And whether it's the liquid courage or her heart refusing to spend another second without telling him or a mix of both she's not sure, but Diana calls him. 47 answers during the first ring, and she tells him everything. How much it pains her, what she did. How she wishes she could have found another solution. How she hates that whatever they did to him on that train left him with new scars and a knee that hurts whenever it's cold, and how she would have wanted to be there in that damn carriage with him, and how she can't see or hear a tango anymore, how one of her favourite social dances has been ruined forever. Most of all she tells him how much she loves him.

47 listens silently until she's done, and hangs up.

Diana cries herself to sleep on his side of the bed.

When she wakes, it's nearly noon. Her head hurts like Hell, but unfortunately the alcohol hasn't deleted the phonecall from her mind. She absentmindedly grabs the two paracetamol she must have laid out last night from the nightstand and swallows them. Time to get up, there's work to be done. She could definitely use a shower, and clean clothes, but first she'll force herself to eat some breakfast.

To her surprise, she hears music playing when she makes her way downstairs. She follows it down into the basement, and it takes her to 47's practice room. The furniture has been pushed to the sides of the room, and he's standing there, wearing the same damn tux he wore in Argentina, waiting for her.

"Wh-- why aren't you in Italy?" she asks, moving towards him and into his arms on instinct.

"Family emergency," he replies. "I needed to make something right." He kisses her, and though he doesn't say it, not yet, she can feel it in the way he holds her: I love you too.

As 47 leads her into an Argentine tango, Diana can only stare at his face, proper dance positioning be damned. With his help, she glides across the floor on her bare feet, in yesterday's dress and with her hair spilling down her back. And maybe, just maybe, she feels her heart begin to heal and beat in time with his.

[verecunda]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @firebatvillain... er... a few weeks ago, I think. Thank you! Sorry it took me so long.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

136.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

396,444.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Oh, God. Loads, too many to list. Tolkien is currently at the top of the list, and I'm also deep in the extended Jacobite Literary Universe. :D Generally, my fandoms tend to have some sort of historical and/or fantasy setting.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Amo, Amas, Amat (NATM, Jedediah/Octavius) Slightly Scandalous (NATM, Jedediah/Octavius) Kindred Spirits (Ghosts, Captain/Thomas) Reality Bites (NATM, Jedediah/Octavius) Poetry Slam (NATM, Jedediah/Octavius)

My NATM fics are still my most popular ones by a country mile. I still get almost daily kudos on all of them, which is somewhat bamboozling, given that they're pretty old, very short, and there's been a lot more NATM fic written since then. But it is nice that folks are still finding them and reading them. :D

Then there's that random Ghosts one in there, too!

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

Yeah, almost always. I like to let readers know I appreciate their feedback, and it's fun to flail about our favourite characters and ships. Though right now, I have to admit that I have a bit of a backlog of comments that I need to respond to. But I'll get there. :S

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

I've written a few, but possibly Nunc Dimittis, which is about Morgoth sending Sauron away at the final fall of Angband. It ends with Sauron feeling the moment that Melkor is taken captive, then later, when he's cast into the Void, and realising he's now truly alone. That fic was entirely Dark Lord angst. :P

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

Oof, a fairly tough one. I'm quite big on giving my ships happy endings, wherever possible. But I'll go with A Few Good Years to Spend, because that whole fic was an exercise in giving Andreth and Aegnor a happy ending. But I very much liked the final scene, with Andreth growing old and Aegnor as totally, utterly besotted with her as ever. It also had them all surrounded by the various kids of the House of Bëor, and Aegnor being the confirmed favourite, and the image was cute. :3

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really. I did get one really weird comment on a fic, which was basically a diatribe against the POV character. But it had nothing to do with the actual fic, it was about the character in the canon, and it seemed like it was part of some larger screed had just been c+p'd from some other site. Very strange.

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

Yeah, every so often. I wish I wrote more tbh, because I'm a pervy wee hobgoblin. I've never even written an f/f scene or a proper threesome. So far, all my smut has been fairly tame, but I'd like to try my hand at some more kinky stuff at some point. ;)

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

Yeah, when inspiration strikes. I don't know about the craziest, but I think the daftest must definitely be And Long Would Mandos Hold Him, where Death from Horrible Histories meets Saeros from The Children of Húrin and is, naturally, delighted. That one was a riot to write. XD

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge, but fuck, who knows. The internet is huge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

A few times, into Chinese and Russian.

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

Not really, not if you mean both of us writing. I think the closest I've come so far was when I collaborated with peasina for last year's Pod_Together, which involves teaming up to create both a written fic and a podfic version of the same. It was a really fun experience, coming up with ideas for a story together, and interesting, because it's the first time I've ever written a story specifically intended to be read aloud, so it was something to keep in mind all the time I was writing. The end result was A (Confirmed) Knight Bachelor: written version here and pod version here. I really enjoyed doing this one! :D

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

God, I don't know. I have no idea how to gauge that.

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

ahahahaha... oh God, right now, it feels like all of them. XD

But really... sadly, probably the Legolas/Gimli post-LOTR fic I started. Honestly, I think the fact it was looking to end up as a multi-chapter affair kind of scared me from the get-go. Then I wrote myself into a knot trying to work out Legolas and Thranduil's dynamic immediately after the War of the Ring. No doubt it's the sort of thing that could be easily worked out with a bit of tinkering, but I got discouraged and ended up shoving the whole fic on the back-burner, where it's like to stay. :[

(Of course, talking about it inevitably makes me want to open it up and have another crack at it. But realistically, I don't think I'll ever finish it.)

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I do character voices pretty well, and in book fandoms, I think I can usually pull off a decent pastiche of the style. And on a good day, I think I can do good descriptive prose.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Fucking plots, how do they work??? On a bad day, I think my prose is overdone and pedantic: too fussy.

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

It can definitely add something - authenticity, atmosphere - but should also be used with caution. Writing is all about communication, after all, and if you start writing whole screeds of conversation in a language that you're not guaranteed your target audience will understand, you're not serving the story, just trying to show off. Economy is the key, I think. I also usually include a translation, either as an endnote, or as a hover-over caption.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

lol technically, I think it must be historical RPF. I used to write wee stories about the historical peeps I was obsessed with at the time.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Oh, how the hell is anyone meant to answer a question like that.

Tagging, with no obligation: @nocompromise-noregrets, @cilil, @bryndeavour, @chiropteracupola, @regshoe, @sanguinarysanguinity, @technicallycleverdetective, @swanmaids, @cycas, and @di-daydreamer.

[rykno-j]

my j/jk s2 ep5 thoughts.. welcome onboard the pain train.

under the cut (spoilers)

-

AGEHSHSHHHS WELL THAT WAS..

1. the way they made g/eto's eyes so tired.

2. the way g/eto went from hair tied up proper and whatnot to wearing baggy clothes and his hair everywhere, literally went from 1 bang to 2 bangs. it really brought out how down he was feeling. and i love yet hate that so much.

3. N/ANAMI'S FKING VOICE ACTOR KILLED THAT SCENE WHERE HE THREW THE CHAIR. HE SOUNDED SO DAMN BROKEN AND UPSET IT STUNG SO HARD argshh. YOU CAN LIKE HEAR THE SADNESS IN HIS VOICE AND HOW DISTRAUGHT HE WAS. his va..

4. g/ojo when he realised g/eto killed his family and everyone at the village. the way he scrunched his fist until he bled.

5. the street scene where they last talked. oh my god. when g/ojo went into a fighting pose but couldn't bare to kill g/eto. his va DID SO WELL. I COULD TOTALLY TELL HE WAS IN A DILEMMA JUST FROM THE WAY HE EXHALED.

when his teacher told him about g/eto loosing it. g/ojo's reactions was so.. so.. argshhh..

6. the way g/eto always puts s/atoru first. when h/aibara asked what snacks he wanted. "s/atoru might want some too, get something sweet"

7. g/ojo at the end saying he wants m/egumi to get strong. "you need to get strong quickly, strong enough so you won't be left behind by me" OR SOMETHING TO THAT EFFECT, I FORGOT THE EXACT WORDS. BUT OH MY GOD he feels so bad for leaving s/uguru behind doesn't he.

8. the way g/eto so coldly became the leader (dictator) of the organisation. he really did a 360° didn't he :c

9. im jumping around so much BUT THE START WHERE G/ETO HAD A MONOLOGUE. the "s/atoru is getting stronger..", "im spending more time alone now.." part. oh. my. god. HE SOUNDED SO DAMN SAD AND LOST.

10. it never hit me before even though ive noticed it while reading the manga. but y/uki kinda played a big part (my opnion) in making g/eto turn to the dark side. like without her putting the idea of killing all non-sorcerers into his mind (ofc i know she did it unintentionally) he wouldn't have gone down that path so quickly. at least thats what i feel.

11. of course the village mission with the 2 locked up girls played a biiiiig part with that. but like the fact g/eto said smth like "i have to choose" (between leaving or staying, rmb when y/uki pointed to the escape door then at j/jk high) means that she kinda pushed him to make a decision faster than he might have naturally.

(do i make sense?? im quite bad at putting thoughts into words..)

11. then finally the part he woke up and m/egumi asked him why hes laughing. g/ojo answering with a playful "nothing"

12. also. the groans g/ojo made as he woke up. HELLO I SWEAR IM NOT INSANE FOR NOTICING (and maybe playing it over a few times). argshhsh

these fucking eyes. also if you zoom into the base of his eye, there's DEFINITELY a mark under it. TEARS? DID HE CRY IN HIS DREAM? baby..

i have no idea if im allowed to post photos of the episode, like if ill get striked or something.. i hope not..

ANYWAY THATS ALL MY THOUGHTS FOR NOW i might come back and edit it if smth else strikes my mind..

what a great episode as usual.. gna go back to lessons and daydream about g/eto's eyebags and n/anami's broken voice

▪︎•▪︎

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

Doctor Who: Flux Review- Who Gives a Flux

You're not getting a spoiler warning, because you can't 'spoil' a turd sandwich by letting on what kind of bread they used.

So, I knew Doctor Who: Flux wasn’t going to be good. It’s written entirely by Chris Chibnall, the man who gave us red hot hits like Shilling for Space Amazon and Attack of the Large Onion. Clearly, I was not expecting great things, but the 60th Anniversary Specials kept referencing it like I was supposed to know and care what it was, so I gritted my teeth and dived in. I am an idiot. I only have so many hours of life, and I chose to spend six of them watching Flux. I feel like if I’m ever dragged up before some kind of cosmic review board and asked to justify ever second I spent on Earth, I’m going to be more embarrassed about the time I spent watching Flux than I am all the days I wasted trying to pick things up using only my feet (And thereby hangs a tale, but I don’t have time to tell it here). Anyway: Flux. Why?

I think the cruellest thing about Flux is that it starts off alright and then gradually deteriorates over time- so gradually in fact, that you don’t even notice until you reach the end and realise what you just saw. You might be familiar with that really sick experiment some very bored scientists once conducted, where they tried putting a frog in boiling water. Obviously, the frog jumped out. So then they put the frog in cool water and brought it to the boil over a long period of time. The frog didn’t realise what was happening and literally just sat there and died. Flux was the water. I was the frog.

The first episode, The Halloween Apocalypse is okay sci-fi. It even feels like a proper episode of Doctor Who in places. After some preliminary grumbling, the opening proper sees Whitaker’s 13th Doctor dangling over a sea of acid with not-really-her-love-interest Yaz, suspended from a hovering beam set up by a prospective villain. And our heroes spend most of the time arguing over whose fault it is that they got caught in the first place while their escape plan goes horribly wrong. We’re also introduced to our actual villains for the series, who claim to represent time itself while a big swirly space-storm that might or might not be related ravages the universe. It’s… pretty compelling actually. The ideas seem big and intriguing and I actually found myself- against my better judgement- wondering what the big twist was going be. There’s this recurring notion that time itself is evil and needs to be shackled, lest it run riot and overtake space, creating a world of infinite suffering. It’s a terrifying concept and therefore interesting. Meanwhile, Whitaker actually appears to be doing some acting, which makes a nice change from her early tenure. I mean, she still doesn’t feel like the Doctor- any Doctor- probably because she didn’t actually watch Who prior to acting in it, but she’s not so wooden as to be unwatchable this time round, so there’s that. In short, we’re set up for a solid season of TV.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for the wheels to fall off. The second episode sees the Sontaran coopting the Crimean War to invade Earth, taking advantage of the chaos created by the Flux (which, in fairness, is a very Sontaran thing to do). Before long, the Doctor and co. (by now, there’s a team- I’m not getting into the why) bump into actual historic figure Mary Secole, whose accent alone should win some kind of award for overacting and an army general who’s trying to repel the Sontaran invasion. Obviously, the Doc takes issue and tries to tell him not fight the Sontarans, which on one level is fair enough. We know the Doctor’s not a fan of soldiers. But the poor bastard literally doesn’t have a choice. Not only is it his job, from his perspective, he’s the last line of defence stopping the Sontaran invasion from reaching Britain. He has to fight. Yet, like most of Chibnall’s disposable villains, he’s written with all the complexity of a tablespoon- he’s just a bluff, overbearing military-man (and a bit of a sexist, just in case we didn’t get we were meant to be rooting against him). He’s just there to get in the way and never exhibits enough personality to make him compelling or make us think about his motivations and the internal logic of his actions. I mean, I know Moffat was a bit annoying as showrunner, back in the day, but at least when he wrote characters like this you could see what they were thinking and why- you understood that they were wrong, but there were some pains taken to show that their conclusions made sense to them in context; there was some effort made to be at least vaguely sympathetic to the plight of the less-than-genre-savvy inhabiting the Whoniverse. But hey, it’s a minor gripe. I ploughed on, not realising that this was just the first in a series of cock-ups that would slowly heat up the frog-water of the season to awful, boiling temperatures. I should have known. We all should have known.

Of course, I can’t keep going episode by episode. For a one thing, they began to blur into one after awhile and, for another, I can only bare to write about Flux for so many paragraphs. After that point, my eyes will start to bleed, a ringing will start in my ears, and The Voices (TM) will start telling me to grab the power-drill and gaffer tape. Instead, lets talk about the villains. For there are many. Aside from the Sontarans and the time-entities (I just remembered their names are Swarm and Azure, though we’re given literally zero reason to care), there’s also a dude called The Grand Serpent who gets introduced as some kind of galactic dictator, but the next time we see him, he’s on Earth, plotting to make himself the oversight guy for UNIT. And, of course, there’s the head of Division- an organisation so corrupt it will happily kill the entire universe just to protect its secrets, then bugger off to the next universe and start interfering in its history. Individually, all these villains are… fine? I guess? I mean, the Grand Serpent has a genuine air of menace about him and he goes about his evil business with a remarkable degree of confidence and alacrity. The Sontarans are a reliable cautionary tale against military jingoism. The time-entities are both terrifying and interesting. The extent of Division, at least on paper, is awe-inspiring. The problem is that Chibnall can’t be bothered to develop any of them properly. He just keeps piling on douchebags and never giving any of them a chance to breathe.

First off, we never find out why Swarm and Azure want to unleash time, knowing full well it will destroy all creation. They’re time-entities themselves, but what does that mean? They still have physical bodies and appear to live, for all intents and purposes, in the spacial universe. What does it even mean for time to be evil? Why are they such snappy dressers? That last question is probably less important. The point is that we find out literally nothing important about them, even though they’re the primary antagonists of the series. The Grand Serpent, meanwhile, gets a motivation. He’s been deposed (we never see this happen) and he’s working with the Sontarans to secure a power-base for the future. Fine. I’ll go along with that… except why is he working with the Sontarans when he’s clearly perfectly capable of manipulating entire planets on his own? What’s the name of his species? Why is he the way he is? We get no answers (again) and his arc is resolved by shoving him through a magic door and leaving him a floating piece of space-debris. He doesn’t even look that bothered about it. The Sontarans… well, we all know what their deal is, but they don’t escape Chibnalling. Far from being an effective and serious foe, they end up reduced to blustering goons with an addiction to Earth-grown sugars and exactly one, easily-thwarted strategy. And then there’s Division. The scope of its reach should be horrifying; its ruthlessness chilling; its cold indifference to any one universe fearsome. But in the end, the whole thing just comes off as silly. It seems to have been started by the Time Lords (sort of), but it doesn’t have a Time Lord-y agenda. It’s willing to destroy a whole universe that it considers a failed experiment, but it’s never explained why it considers that the experiment failed. It controls the Flux itself, but that ends up leaving Swarm and Azure without anything particularly terrifying to wield. Also, the whole thing is run by the Doctor’s mum (sort of) and it’s revealed that the Doctor actually came from the other universe to which Division is heading. Which is idiotic. I mean, the whole Timeless Children thing was stupid the first time Chibnall trotted it out because it undermines the Doc’s whole deal of just being a normal Gallifreyan who stole a box and started doing some good in the universe. The point of the character is that its their choices that define them, not their superhero-style trademark Secret Origin. Thank fuck The Giggle went on to imply that this was just a load of nonsense cooked up by The Toymaker to mess with his old enemy.

The fact is that Chibnall just can’t help but ruin seemingly good ideas by cramming them together with bad ideas- and even other good ideas- so tightly that none of them feel meaningful or important. The villains du jour are the prime example, but they’re not the only offenders, not by a long stretch. There’s this little love story about two people separated by the Flux trying to find each other, which is actually pretty compelling sci-fi (though it doesn’t exactly feel like Doctor Who- it’s played way too straight and lacks the show’s signature light touch). Given a whole episode of its own to breathe, it might have been quite good, but it gets spread out across all six episodes of the series to make room for other stuff and it becomes impossible to give a shit after the third. This is also the segment, incidentally, that nerfs the Cybermen. Apparently, all the upgrade-based invincibility of Nightmare in Silver is gone now and any yoohoo with two lasers and a decent aim can take them down. Are these just earlier models, or did Chibnall just forget about NIS? I suspect option B.

There’s a race of talking dogs who are species-bonded to the human race and they’re theoretically instrumental in resolving the plot, but we only ever meet one of them and their species’ lore, background and beliefs are never fleshed out in any way.

There’s a temple where time is channelled and controlled (because it has to be; because time is evil, remember), but it just comes completely out of left-field. Is it a thing from classic-era Who? Because I’ve watched quite a bit of that over the years, and I don’t bloody remember this thing. It’s an interesting idea, but its never explained how it works or how it was built. I mean, you need time in which to create the structures that will control time, but if time is against you, how can you ever create anything within time? Buh? Ideas that should be important pillars of the show are treated as disposable; nothing significant is fleshed out and the whole thing feels like a waste of time.

But I’m not done! Oh no- we also get to see Chibnall’s ignorance of Who lore on full display. The Weeping Angels apparently only send people back in time the first time they touch them- the second time they turn them to stone and kill them. But we know that’s not how they work. The Angels Take Manhattan was at great pains to show the horror of the Angels battery farming humans by sending them back in time over and over and over again within a single building. Travelling to another universe is treated like a big deal, but David Tennant did it by accident way back in his first term as the Doctor, when he hopped to a parallel universe where Cybermen were being invented on Earth. The whole concept of a Who multiverse is treated like a big deal in fact, but it’s been around for ages- its just been treated with a lighter, more graceful touch to prevent the main universe of the show from feeling disposable. As previously discussed, the Cybermen are really the Cybermen; the Sontarans barely act like Sontarans (or rather, they all act like Strax, the joke Sontaran Eleven recruited as one of his little helpers that time). I could go on, but this is actually giving me a headache.

The point is that Flux is a mess- an unsatisfying melange of ingredients that would be fine on their own, but which don’t go together and are never developed into anything meaningful; a Doctor Who cosplay convention where half the participants don’t know who they’re meant to be what Doctor Who is; a right fucking shambles, in short.

At the end, I’m left with one question: Why did I do this to myself. And one answer: because I’m a fucking idiot.