#only a few scenes strayed too far from the book

[tit-crevice]

just saw ppl criticising the last episode, i actually loved it. they just went crazy with the 7th episode but i think the fight w both ares and luke was done really well, it could have been longer but with all that they tried to cram in a single episode im not surprised. percy meeting his father was amazing i was so caught up by the emotions!! and holy shit, lance's performance was amazing! i was genuinely terrified when he started talking to percy, i just hope the recast will do lance's interpretation of zeus justice

[mylostloversbookmarks]

Take This Moment

Characters - Joel Miller x Reader, Ellie Williams

Summary - You, Joel and Ellie have been on the road to Jackson for weeks. While hiking through a forest you come across a little slice of heaven. The three of you take the day to enjoy the little things in life.

Word Count - 1.8K

Warnings/Tags - 18+ only Minors dni. Soft!Joel, fluff. Post-Outbreak.

A/N - I took a walk in my local forest park last weekend and I could not get this idea out of my scone, I wrote this in about 2 hours so I hope you all like it lol.

Reblogs, comments and feedback are always appreciated!

Divider credit to @saradika

You, Joel, and Ellie had been hiking for hours, doing your best to make it through the densest parts of the forest before losing the light and having to start setting up camp for the evening.

As you trudged along listening to Ellie's endless attempts to make Joel laugh with her awful book of puns. She got him a few times, watching him turn his head the other way, trying to hide his smirk.

Over the last few weeks, you have noticed Joel slowly opening up. He's becoming softer with you both, and the thought sent warmth radiating through your chest.

You tried your best to push your feelings for him to the very recesses of your mind, but somehow they always ended up front and centre when you saw him like this.

It was not exactly what you would call relaxed, but it was as close as he could afford to be given your current circumstances.

As the three of you make your way into a clearing, you and Ellie wander around the small section of forest that isn't completely dominated by trees, always staying within Joel's eyeline as instructed and taking in the scene before you.

You stand in the middle of a lush forest, surrounded by towering trees that seem to stretch endlessly towards the sky. Bright sunlight filters through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor.

The air around you is warm and fresh, with a gentle breeze rustling the leaves and carrying the scents of pine and earth.

As you look around, you see a carpet of moss and ferns covering the ground, patterned by patches of wildflowers in varying shades of pink, purple, and yellow.

Birds sing sweetly in the distance, while the occasional rustle of leaves betrays the presence of small animals scurrying about their business.

This puts you slightly on edge, but you know that you are too far out for even stray infected to find you here, and you find yourself wishing you could stay in this quiet, secluded place forever.

Though you knew that wasn't possible, with supplies as hard to come by as they are in this hellish world, they are even harder to find in the middle of nowhere with nothing around you for miles.

As you continue to explore the clearing, you notice Joel watching you from a distance. His gaze lingers on you, and you can feel the heat of his stare setting fire to your skin.

Despite your efforts to keep your feelings for him at bay, you can't help but feel a surge of desire wash over you. You catch his eye, and he gives you a small, lopsided smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Feeling a flutter in your stomach at the sight of him with all his broad shoulders, strong arms, and veined hands that are resting on his hips. You smile back at him, a deep blush creeping across your cheeks.

Ellie's laughter draws your attention, and you turn to see her skipping through a patch of wildflowers, her arms outstretched like the wings of a butterfly. You can't help but feel a twinge of envy at her carefree attitude.

You long for the days when the world was a simpler place and you didn't have to constantly worry about not only your own survival but also that of Joel and Ellie, which you realise is now more important to you than your own.

When you look back at Joel, you see that he is watching her too, locked in a trance with a gleam in his eye you have never seen before, and you feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for his presence in your life.

He has become more than just a partner in survival; he has become a friend and your confidant, and you hoped maybe something more, but that was just a fantasy.

You explore the area surrounding the small clearing and hear a stream babbling somewhere nearby. You glance behind you and see Joel kneeling beside Ellie, teaching her the basics of how to track an animal, showing her the small hoof tracks left in the bracken by their feet.

"I'm just going to scout out this side; I'll shout if I need you, okay?" You call to Joel over your shoulder, hoping he's distracted enough with Ellie to let you out of his sight.

"Okay, but don't go too far. If you hear or see anything, you keep low, keep quiet, and you make it back to us, you hear me?" He instructs you, his voice low and serious; are you imagining the double meaning behind the 'us'? Had he wanted to say, 'Make it back to me'?

You nod your head solemnly at the man whose eyes are currently boring into your soul. Emploring you to be safe, you turn and head towards the sound that promises fresh drinking water.

As you wander further through the forest and come to a break in the treeline, you stop dead in your tracks.

You're glad that Ellie can't see you; you know she would burst into a fit of laughter if she could see your face, eyes wide and mouth hanging open in a comical 'O' in surprise.

Your brain isn't processing what your eyes are seeing. You blink rapidly to ensure you weren't imagining things from dehydration.

What lay just a few feet before you was not the small stream you were expecting; instead, what lay before you was a river—a large, crystal-clear river.

The water sparkles in the sunlight, and you can see schools of fish darting through the currents. The river looks so inviting, and you can't resist the urge to take a closer look.

You carefully make your way to the edge of the riverbank, marvelling at its sheer size and power. Dipping your fingers in the cool, fresh water, feeling it rush over your heated skin.

For a moment, you forget the current state of the world and just enjoy the simple beauty of nature. You close your eyes and let the sound and feeling wash over you.

You feel a sense of peace that you haven't felt since the world fell to its knees. As you sit by the river, your hand traces patterns on the surface, lost in your thoughts as Joel and Ellie approach behind you.

You don't bother to turn around; you have become well accustomed to the sound of his heavy footsteps.

"You've been gone for a while, and Joel started to get worried, so we came looking for you," Ellie murmured, almost in apology.

"Ellie" Joel sighs out her name in exasperation as if she has just blown his cover.

"What?!" She began. "You were all like." Ellie clears her throat, takes a deep breath and drops her voice a few octaves in order to mock Joel's deep, gravelly tones:

"No, she's been gone too long. Something must have happened. I need to find her." She rolled her eyes at him, shrugging her shoulders as she looked at you for help.

"I appreciate your concern. Joel, really, I do, but look at this," you say, beaming at him and gesturing towards the river. "It's incredible" you breathe.

Joel looks at you, his expression softening. "Yeah, it is," he whispers, his voice full of wonder as he takes in the sight of you.

Ellie is splashing around in the shallow water near the riverbank, her laughter once again filling the air. You decide to throw caution to the wind and join her.

Dropping your pack and toeing your boots off as you wade into the water after her, Joel watches on from the safety and dryness of the shore, chuckling openly as he watches you flicking water frantically in Ellie's direction.

He watches you both enjoying yourselves in the late afternoon heat as he sits on the edge of the river. Admiring how the water slicks your hair back out of your face and how it leaves your skin shiny and gleaming in the sunlight.

He tries to be subtle about it, glancing away quickly when he thinks you are going to look in his direction and stealing glances at you when your attention is focused on Ellie.

You tried to get him to join you both on multiple occasions; he declined, claiming that "one of us has to be the adult." Your response to that was to childishly splash water in his direction.

Making him turn his head and throw his hands up, hiding his laughter, but despite his efforts, you could see the dimple on his right cheek and his broad shoulders shaking up and down.

You catch his eye, and he looks away quickly, as if he's been caught doing something he shouldn't be doing.

And you can't quell the flutter in your chest at the sight of him watching you. His eyes seem to linger on you longer than usual, and you can't help but wonder what he's thinking.

You wade towards the shore, ready to join him on the bank. But before you can reach him, he steps forward, leans over and playfully shoves you back into the water.

You gasp as the cool water envelops you completely; you're unable to hold back your laughter as you resurface, looking up at Joel with a playful smirk stretching across your dripping face.

He chuckles, eyes crinkling at the corners in the way that makes your heart skip a beat, as he takes you in.

"Sorry about that Darlin, I couldn't help myself," he laughs low in his chest, holding a hand out to help you back onto the shore.

You take his hand, feeling a jolt of electricity as your skin touches his. A rush of excitement courses through you at the proximity of your body so close to his, feeling your cheeks flush with colour.

As you stand up, you're very aware of how your wet clothes cling to your body, and you feel Joel's eyes on you once again. You turn to face him, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

To your surprise, his expression is soft and heated, and you can tell he's admiring you. A thrill of pleasure races through you at the look on his face, and you can't stop the smile that curls your lips upwards.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, gazing at each other in the golden sunlight that streaked through the breaks in the canopy above your heads.

The sound of the river and Ellie's laughter fills the air, and you all lose yourselves in this little haven the three of you have created.

Feeling a sense of warmth radiating through your chest and squeezing at your heart for what felt like the millionth time today as you look into Joel's eyes.

You know you will never forget this moment. Enjoying the simple pleasure of being alive, surrounded by nature and the two people you care about most, fills your heart to capacity.

Knowing now that when things get rough, you will have this memory to think back on, things don't seem so unbearable after all.

[greenhorn-art]

Prince of Shadows, Lord of Thieves by alkat

Fandom: The King's Avatar | 全职高手

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Words: 1 929

Once upon a time, their exploits were immortalized by artists and writers across the tapestry of history. Once upon a time, they were worshipped as gods and reviled as demons. None of that stopped the Met from stealing all their shit.

About the Book

FONTS: Alegreya [Google Fonts], Lato [Google Fonts]

IMAGES: all art made by myself @greenhorn-art for this fic

MATERIALS: regular ol' printer paper (8.5"x11", 20lb, 96 bright); ~2-2.5mm binder's board; Neenah cardstock (8.5"x11", 65lb, bright white); Cialux bookcloth (black); waxed linen thread (30/3 size, white); wheat paste (1:4 flour:water); paste wax (from a friend, unknown ingredients&quantities, some kind of wax and turpentine/mineral spirits)

PROGRAMS USED: Affinity Publisher 2; Affinity Designer 2; Bookbinder JS | Renegade's Community Imposer (settings: Quarto, snug against binding edge, custom signatures of 2, 1, 2 sheets).

Text & QR codes printed with colour laser printer (duplex, flip long edge), images printed with inkjet printer. QR codes generated with LibreOffice Writer, snipped, saved, and inserted where needed.

BINDING: quarto (quarter-letter) size, sewn board binding with french link stitch and breakaway spine.

.

So this one all started because the visual of HST's outfit was so fun that I was possessed by a visceral need to draw it. Inspiration slapped me across my mind's eye, and much like a medieval knight being slapped in the face by a glove (which didn't actually happen, that's a myth that sprung from the throwing down of a gauntlet. but that's beside the point), I felt bound to take up the challenge. Which lead me to draw a few more, and then I ended up binding the whole thing.

(Also, I find it really amusing that the famous Terracotta Warriors were just storage for YXs stuff. And the gang going 'shopping' at various exhibits for gifts for friends/family,, like that sure is SOME window shopping! I can hear it now: 'Oooh I'll take one one those SMASH, and that SHATTER, and throw in some of those CRASH, they're going to love these! 😇'. All in all, it was a fun little read, and fun little project! :D)

About the Art

Because this was initially a one-off drawing I tried a new art style (and struggled to at least not stray too far for the rest). It was fun and helped me think more about shape and visual focus, instead of being caught up in the details.

The crow (based off of image ID: 4039963 from Rawpixel) and the red umbrella on the front cover were filled curves made with the pen tool. The illustrations' poses were based off of a combination of images found on Google and photos taken by myself.

Pinterest is awful for sources, but it would have been handy to pin the references I'd googled. Only remembered to save the one of a man sitting at a desk. (I deliberately searched for someone sitting with bad posture because YX is described as being "slumped" over the desk. I figure that since "the laws of physics held no meaning to ["cursed souls eschewed by the natural order"]", they'd also be immune to mundane things like discomfort from sitting hunched over for too long. Back pain images were a gold mine! All I had to do was choose one with lighting that would give me a silhouette.)

The Myriad Manifestations Umbrellas and illustrations were drawn in Procreate.

I opted for a more plain umbrella design because it's not (presumably) a fantastical weapon in this story. Though the initial version did have YX cradling the donghua!MMU.

For the scene breaks I inserted the images, pinned them inline as character, and adjusted height and baseline in the pinning menu to fit.

The author wrote one scene break differently than the others, using multiple empty paragraphs instead of just one. Following suit, I used a different image for that particular break. I wanted to reference vampires somewhere, so for that break I made two bloody spots resembling bite marks. The blood spots were made with a group of shapes in Designer.

On cover design:

Because the MMU is what sparks the whole heist, I wanted it on the front cover.

Earlier iterations involved a full cover spread with a man's shadow standing before a shattered glass case, with a plaque mounted on the wall to the left providing information. The plaque was formatted like a museum label and had the author, date published, title, event collection, and story description. I'd also added a QR code to it. Ultimately, I abandoned the concept because it was difficult to decipher what is was when only looking a one cover at a time.

My second idea for the cover would have been a bookcloth-only cover with a cut-out of the MMU on the front, acting like a window showing off an image of the MMU on paper below it. (Inspired by the work of a number of folks over on Renegade's Discord. Here's a few examples gleaned from a quick search: szynkaaa's lung cutouts, some of EHyde's books, and the front cover of Spock's massive all-in-one TGCF). As fun as that would have been to try out, I felt it didn't quite suit the style of the art so I nixed that too.

Eventually I landed on the back cover design with the Met exhibition webpage. At last, I felt that the back & white and simple-shapes-background went with the artwork. The webpage viewed on the phone is based off of the Met's actual website. I took a snip/screenshot of the Met's logo from the banner at the top, then looked at their exhibitions' pages and eyeballed it to create my own. (Threw in the QR because I wanted the easy access to the fic online on the back cover). I chose to use a phone screen rather than I computer monitor because it worked better composition-wise. And besides, while YX may be allergic to owning a phone, SMC is not. I imagine that she saw the news while on her phone then messaged him.

The front cover came together after that. An umbrella for the MMU, and a pop of red. One of YX's messenger crows. A black shape in the background similar to the back cover's, sort of creating a spotlight over the umbrella and placing the rest of the cover in shadow.

Trying New Things: Applying a protective finish to printed covers

Over on the Renegade Bindery Discord, folks have spoken about using a beeswax & turpentine/mineral spirits 50-50 mix to seal printed covers (thank you Kate). According to my dad that's just a paste wax, so he threw 3 different ones at me and said 'have at it'.

I tested them out using the same paper and inkjet I'll use for the cover. I was looking at 1) whether the paste wax affected the paper colour or print quality, and 2) the finish. After applying one coat each and buffing them out I had my winner. Then I applied & buffed two more coats to it and tested 3) water resistance by dripping tea on it. The liquid beaded up and wiped away without staining -- good, three coats will work nicely.

(Test results: Mystery paste wax from a friend wins.

The commercial SC Johnson Paste Wax Original formula (intended for woodworking) has a nice dry shiny finish, but coloured the paper slightly brown -> disqualified

My dad's homemade stuff has a nice shiny/satin finish and didn't change paper's colour, but it felt slightly tacky even after buffing it -- maybe I didn't buff it enough?

The gifted paste wax has a matte finish, didn't change paper's colour (in the image below this one has 3 coats. The paper is now slightly off-white, but still acceptable), and while not as dry-to-touch as the Johnson it was not as tacky as the other homemade stuff.)

When I print out my quarto covers, I print front and back covers side-by-side on the same page*, with some guides to ensure I'm cutting and gluing in the correct place. (The guides mark the boundaries of the covers and start of the turn-ins, and stop at the edge of where I cut. Before cutting I flip it over to mark the guides [see marks indicated in image below] on the wrong side and connect them so I can see where to glue/place book. Then flip it back over to cut, right side up.)

*I'm being economical here at the cost of possible warping damage. This layout means that I'm only using one sheet of paper, but the grain is running in the wrong direction (across the book instead of preferred head-to-tail/top-bottom). This could cause warping issues, but I'm OK with that. I'm hoping that by just gluing at the edges, instead of pasting down the whole thing, warping will be minimized. (I use wrong-grain endpapers most of the time with larger books anyways).

I applied the paste wax before cutting out the covers, working carefully to avoid accidentally creasing/bending the paper (which happened twice, but it was minimal and I hardly notice it). Doing so before cutting ensured that the cover material was completely covered. Even the turn-ins -- something I later came to regret. After all, wax is used specifically so that things don't stick to it. It made it rather difficult to drum on the endpapers because I was trying to glue something down onto a waxy surface. It all worked out in the end -- perhaps due to the fact that there were multiple layers of wheat paste which could adhere to each other, followed by being squashed in a press.

[romana-after-dark]

Blessed Be The Fruit: Part 2

Commander!Joel Miller x Handmaid!Reader

Series masterlist Join dark!Romana's tag list Dark!Romana's Masterlist

(sorry if you get two notications, accidentally posted this to my mainlol)

Summary: A few decades into Gilead’s conception, you head into your first posting as a handmaid after an affair with a guardian landed you in trouble. Determined to keep your head low in order to keep your son safe, you take on the moniker of OfJoel. Commander Miller has very little to do with you and mrs. Miller regards you with disgust, however you find solace in an unlikely friendship with Commander Miller’s daughter from a handmaid 14 years ago, Ellie who just got done with wives school. You and your friend, Ofthomas start teacher her and her friend Reilly under her mothers nose. Slowly, Commander Miller begins spending time with you and you begin to learn more about the man he was before and an affair begins outside the confines of the ceremony. Although initially you go along with it out if survival, you find yourself falling for the version of Joel you saw in these late night rendezvous.

Which Joel is really him, and how will he react when his own daughters secrets are revealed?

Content and Warnings: DARK JOEL! DUB CON!

Although no violent rape happens like in TWW, reader is under systemic misogyny and a society of ritualized sex abuse. Everything other than the violent rape scenes, everything that happen in either The Handmaids Tale book or show are liable to happen here including but not limited to discussion of rape, child abuse, child marriage, ritualized sexual abuse, sexual abuse in general, acts of violence, major character deaths, mentions of miscarriage but never shown and never pregnancies we know of. Big ole homophobia warning, specifically in regards to lesbophobia. As for Joel, PIV sex, breeding kink, degrading (slut, whore etc but thing like Raider!joel) forced breeding and breeding kink, power dynamics, Joel is not the good guy but he’s also not the worst, slightly rough sex but not violent. Warnings are liable to be added as the story goes but I’ll always update. As always if I miss something please tell me, but i extensively label my warnings and in the end media consumption is your own choice. If you would like to know if this is a happy ending or not you can message me and I’ll tell you that way I don’t spoil for everyone but you can decide if this is for you.

Immersability: Reader has long hair, can conceive children theoretically. At one point, she has to pose as Ellie's mother and I know this can be loaded in terms of skin tone. I am no genetics expert but I know dark skinned parents can have white passing children, like Lional Richie and Nicole Richie. It's up to you to see if this is going to take you out of the story or not.

Support writers, reblog and leave comments!

Additional warnings: forced blowjob but reader is into it. Still dub con bc the nature of everything.

*******************

It was a strange feeling, knowing the entire household was keeping track of your monthly cycle. Mrs. Miller had been cued in by Aunt Lydia of where you were at last week, and since then you were told the date of the next ceremony; the night during the highpoint of your fertility. You wondered, not the first time, why the ceremony was only once a month, not during the entire time of ovulation, or why not two or three times a day… but you supposed that’s where the wives would draw a line. No rights to reading or education, no voice, no power. One wrong move and you too can become the victim of ritualized rape… but no, your husband fucking a random woman more than *checks notes you aren’t actually allowed to read* once a month is too far. 

Internal humor is how to cope. The reality of the situation was terrifying, but it’s not like you were shocked by the idea. You had grown up your whole life knowing this would be your fate if you strayed; well, if you strayed and you were fertile. That fertility is what landed you in this problem in the first place.

It wasn’t love. There was no grand story to it. You were married at 15 to a man in his 20’s who hit you, as was his right. Even that wasn’t as dramatic as it could have been, just slaps, shoved into furniture, things of that sort. When a local guardian made advances, you took him up on it. The sex was fine, and eventually produced a baby; your son, who looked just like his real father. 

The guardian was sent to a new local and seemed indifferent to his son who was placed with some commander and his wife. You didn’t even get to say goodbye to him. He probably has a new name now, something biblical, and you often wonder what it is, what word it is that calls his attention. Babies recognize their name around 6 months after all. Benjamin? Levi? Asa? You named him… well, that doesn’t really matter now. It’s a name he’ll never know as his.

Angela had a better story. There was a group of you, a few other handmaids in your region and Angela rallied you all together, sharing your real names and stories. She had lived one hell of a life, always brave. As a low ranking wife she went behind her husbands back for the underground resistance at the young age of 16 and was pregnant a few times, none of which made it very long. For ten years she fought against Gilead, continuing the tradition of her youth. Hell, even before Gilead’s official formation she fought, being a part of pro-LGBT and women’s rights activism since middle school. After her husband was killed in war a guardian attempted to rape her and Angela stabbed him to death. Badass. Gilead didn’t see it that way, despite espousing wanting to protect women. She was going to be hung, of course, but a pregnancy test reviled she was pregnant again, a baby she carried to term, this time. He died of illness a few months later. Regardless, she’d had a healthy baby, and was sent to Thomas Miller’s for her first posting last year.

Aunt Lydia had told Angela that this commander Miller would suit her temperament and you understood what that meant. Angela had confirmed the impression that you had gotten early that week.

Thomas Miller had kind eyes. The kind of eyes that warmed you, relaxed you. You bet he was a charmer in another life. The brothers seemed close, Joel- Commander Miller you mean, lighting up around him like you only see with Elizabeth.

Commander Miller adored his daughter, that much was clear. Many men in Gilead only viewed their children -especially daughters- as possessions or pawns, but it was clear it wasn’t like that between them. You wondered if that closeness is why she wasn’t married yet. At 14 she had been out of wives school for a few months, and it was time to at least get her betrothed. God forbid she waste of moment of potential fertility. Yet, Commander Miller didn’t even seem to be looking.

 Few knew more than him how dangerous it was as a woman in this world, and Elizabeth wasn’t a woman- she was a child, still. Commander Miller also seemed aware that Elizabeth was… particular. She only had one friend, Riley, a child from before the handmaid system who was married already. Mrs. Jones, she was called by Lisa, you and Mrs. Miller (who always tried to do things by the book). Joel refused to call her Mrs. Jones, saying “I’m not addressing a child who I’ve been forced to play dolls with as Mrs. anything. She’s Riley to me.” Outside though he did things right. Can’t be too familiar with another man’s wife, even if he’s known that wife since she was in pull ups. 

The ceremony was tonight, and it seemed like everyone knew. Angela did, but only because you mentioned it.

“Got any questions?” She asked you, always the older sister, even if she only had a few years on you.

“Believe it or not, I’m not a virgin.” You joke back.

Angela laughs and nudges you with her shoulder. “I know, it’s just your first ceremony. I mean, it’s pretty straightforward to what they teach you in the Rachel and Leah Center, only-” She seemed to shut herself off with that, but you urge her on.

“Only what? You can’t leave me there.”

She swallowed thickly before attempting again, somewhere between a cringe and a childish giggle. “Well, you know, genetically-”

“Angela.”

“Brothers have similarities-”

“Just say it!”

Angela stopped, pulling you in to whisper. “Tommy has a massive cock.”

You stand there frozen in shock until a guardian shouts at you to keep moving and stop whispering. There was a lot there, including the implication that if they share genetic similarities, Joel might be harder to take than expected, especially without foreplay, but the thing that really struck you, the thing that sent your mind whirling was how Angela phrased it. She called Commander Miller, Tommy.

*

He was handsome, Commander Miller. At least there was that. Another handmaid, Ofglen, was stuck with a 70 year old man. Several girls had commented in hushed whispers that you and Ofthomas were luck; the Miller brothers were a dream posting, comparatively. So many men were ugly, old, or cruel. Ofhim had scars from lashes on her back. Some of the wives were worse, Ofcole’s wife would starve her when her monthly cycle proved the ceremony useless. Mrs. Miller was a pain and was rude, but she’d never take anything like that into he own hands. She wanted to play the part of dutiful wife so bad. That didn’t stop her from constantly making digs at her daughter.

Mrs. Miller requested your aid in her garden once, using you to dump all her feelings. She confessed the reason you were here was her doing; Elizabeth had proven a failure in her eyes, and she wanted another child to raise, to start over. She said her father spoiled her, let her get away with to much. Commander Miller refused to physically discipline her, and Mrs. Miller was insistent that that’s what the girl needed. Commander Miller reminded her she was just a teenager, and Mrs. Miller countered that she is a woman, not a child. You were married off young and it had seemed fine. You felt like an adult. But now you look at Elizabeth and think ‘did I look that young? Did I seem that childlike?’ 

Mrs. Miller had expressed that she had hoped wives school would fix her, or that maybe after coming back, Riley’s influence would be good. Ellie’s friend, Riley, was 16 and was married to a man in his 20’s, both children from before who had been taken from an unworthy family. An age gap, but certainly not the worse you’d seen, certainly, but now you were near her husbands age the the idea of marrying a 16 year old…

All this to say, Commander Miller was a blessing. You’d been lying if you said you never thought of him when you masturbated. And of course you masturbated. His sweaty body all encompassing around you, brown curls falling on his face, his facial hair on your skin…

*

It was time for the ceremony, you and Mrs. Miller were in your respective positions, you laid up between Gina’s spread legs in her blue dress, her hand gripping your arms with your legs bent. Commander Miller emerged from the bathroom and your chest tightened at the sight of him, knowing what was coming. The pomp and circumstance had passed, the prays having been done in the living room with members of the household: You, Commander Miller, Mrs. Miller, Lisa, and the driver, Isaac. There had been a passive aggressive spat between Mrs. and Commander Miller on the idea of Elizabeth attending the prayers.

Mrs. Miller: “She needs to participate in household activities”

Commander Miller: “It’s bad enough she knows whats going on, I don’t need her to participate.”

Mrs. Miller: “She’ll be a wife soon enough herself, god-willing she’ll have a handmaid of her own!”

“God-willing she won't need to!”

Mrs. Miller scoffed. “As if God would find her worthy in her state!”

Commander Miller grew deadly calm, jaw set in a tense gaze as he stared at his wife, you and Elizabeth standing on the other side of the room. “Woman, you do not speak about her like that again, understood?”

The intensity of his eyes must have been warning enough, Gina backing down. “Yes sir.”

He straightened up. “Ellie, you are excused. Gina, drop it.”

The tension had carried over into the bedroom, the air thick with it as the reality of what was going to happen settled in. Commander Miller’s bulge was prominent even in his dark pants, having worked himself up alone before coming out here and undressing once again. Just pulling down his pants and underwear, god forbid you see him shirtless. This wasn’t for your pleasure, you filthy whore, this wasn’t even for his. This was for you to bare him and his wife a child. A son to lead the family in righteousness, or a daughter to bare more children and so on. This was a job.

You hear a spit and the distinct sound of masturbation, then a few more spitting sounds. It took everything in you to not look at him, keeping your eyes glued on the ceiling but the picture was clear in his head. The tall, broad, powerful commander furiously jerking off the the site of your body spread of before him. Was that for you? Or was he looking at his wife? He sure didn’t seem very fond of her, but there was no denying she was beautiful.

“Joel, do you really need to do that? It’s obscene.”

“Well you can’t expect her to take it dry when you can barely-”

“Joel!”

“Well unless you want me to-”

“JOEL!”

You couldn’t help it, opening your eyes to see him, his face scowling but eyes with a glint of mischief. He was fucking with her, purposefully embaressing her infront of a lowly handmaid to get back at her for what she said about Elizabeth.

When Commander Miller slid into you, you were suddenly acutely aware that this was going to be difficult. Slowly he moved inside and the inches just. Kept. Coming. Your breath hitched and you bite down on your lip trying to keep any possible sound from coming out, no gasps of pain that could be mistaken for pleasure. The stretch was unbearable by the time Joel was fully sheathed inside of you, thrusting as the tears pricked up in your eyes. It would be quick. There was no presence of needing to last, at least. Just get it done. Fill you up and hopefully you conceive. Problem was… the stretch.

 It wasn’t your fault, really. It was natural, wasn’t it? Even under these circumstances. Or maybe you were a harlot, only redeemable by producing a child for a high value man. That's why you were in this position, right? You could feel yourself getting wet and you wished he would hurry up before the smell of sex and arousal fill the room, before the fucking sound became impossible to ignore. The warmth in your belly grew, tightening, the feeling of being filled so completely was just dizzying and you needed him to finish, now.

Then it happened, the orgasm hitting you so hard your eyes rollback in your head and it takes everything you have not to cry out. You can only pray Joel isn’t looking at your face as you attempt to stifle every bodily reaction as you pulse around him. Warmth floods your insides when he stills inside you, a light groan from his lips. He’s allowed to make a few sounds; he’s the man, after all. It’s supposed to feel good for him, but for you? This was wrong. This was bad, and you were going to be in a fuck ton of trouble now. Aunt Lydia never said anything about orgasming. Did the law have a specific article about this, or was it left up to the commander's discretion? You hadn’t seen Joel raise a hand to Gina yet, but you were only a week in. You open your eyes, daring to take a peak at Commander Miller in order to gauge your future. 

You can see him smiling at you before tucking himself back into his pants to go clean up. Mrs. Miller instructed you to lay there for a while, bettering the chances of it taking, and left the room. When Commander Miller exited the bathroom and returned to the bed chambers, he excused you with a soft “You can go now, darl’n”

*

Another 2 weeks went by without incident, and it appeared Commander Miller wasn’t going to do or say anything about your embarrassing indiscretion. Angela had told you to play with yourself before the ceremony to get yourself wet, but you had been too scared of this exact scenario happening. Fat lot of good it did you, huh?

Unfortunately for everyone involved, you got your period as expected. One would think you didn’t want to get pregnant. The odds of dying in child birth had increased despite growing technology. It was the pregnancy complications and the insistence of home births even when the pregnancy was warning them not too. Gilead’s obsession with rituals meant that there was also an extensive one for childbirth and that obsession rendered many women dead. In addition to that, there’s the horror of growing a child inside you, and even if it was a healthy pregnancy and that child lives, after a period of breastfeeding you are taken away from the life you created to go to another posting.

If you produce a child and remain behaved, when you are no longer of birthing age, you get to retire in peace. Whatever that meant. You weren’t sure you entirely cared, one way or another, but the idea of the wall was scary. 3 postings, 3 years per posting, this was your window.

You often heard Elizabeth sneaking downstairs after the household went to sleep; always after Joel went down. Your room was right by the stairs, so you heard it all. God knows you aren’t sleeping.

You were bored. So bored. Bored enough to sneak downstairs after Ellie and go investigate, so you do. Slowly and carefully you go down stairs and find Commander Miller’s office, creeping up to the door to listening. You hear music. Music that was supposed to have been destroyed a decade ago, and you take a moment to enjoy the sound. Steady acoustic guitar, soft male singing.

“Can we listen to it again?” Ellie’s voice spoke from behind the door.

“After your lesson.” Commander Miller.

“UUUGGGHHH”

“I thought you wanted to learn?”

“I do…” Ellie acquiesced, and you can hear the sounds of pulling a book off a shelf and opening it. Biology. Commander Miller was teaching Ellie biology. This was unheard of, especially for a commander's daughter, a woman who was supposed to be getting married off soon. She didn’t need to learn science, to listen to ungodly music? So why was a high ranking Commander not only allowing it, but teaching her?

You move to go back upstairs where you belong, but the creak of the floor gives you away. White-hot panic, the kind where everything runs hot and the world suddenly feels funny floods your system. You freeze, hoping to God no one heard you. That goes out the window when the door flies open, Commander Miller spotting you and yanking you inside the room by the dress.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” He shouts, loud and angry and so close to you that you can smell his breath.

“Dad?” A panicked Ellie stood to the side, drawing your attention. She looked terrified, and you felt sorry for scaring the poor girl.

Joel gripped your face, fingers digging into his skin as he forced you to look at him. “Eyes on me. You don’t look at her.” Keeping your face forward, Joel turned to Ellie. “Go upstairs, I’ll take care of this.”

“But dad-”

“Ellie. I got this, you go to your room, it’ll talk to you in a bit, okay?”

Ellie nodded, going out the door and only stopped to eye you for a moment.

Joel turned back to you. “What did you hear?”

“Nothing-”

“Liar!” He screamed, fingers pressing harder into your skin.

“I heard the music! And, and some of the lesson, but I won’t say anything I swear-”

“Of course you won’t,” Joel chuckled. “Who are they going to believe? A commander and the first daughter of Gilead, or a handmaid who cums during the ceremony.” Your eyes go wide at that, the way Joel’s grip loosens but never leaves, thumb slowly beginning to trace at your cheeks. “Yeeeah, that’s right, I felt you. Little bitch in heat couldn’t help cumming on cock? Didn’t even need any build up, huh? You just take whatever's given to you. Little whore, all pent up…” 

God, he looked good like this; towering over you, broad shoulders closing in on you and making it clear there was nowhere to go. When he placed his thumb at your lips, you didn’t even hesitate to take it in your mouth and begin to bob your head, eyes closing just a little. “Dirty, dirty girl…” Joel taunted. “Just need to get filled up. All that pent up slut, nowhere to go. Tell me, sweet thing… Do you think of me when you touch yourself?”

Your sucking stopped, but Joel continued moving his thumb in your mouth. “Yeah, I know you do. Get on your fucking knees.” He didn’t wait, shoving you down to your knees, his cock entering your mouth before you had a chance to think.

The stretch pried open your mouth, pulling at your chapped and dry lips. The bulbous tip hit the back of your throat and made you gag, but he wasn’t stopping.

“Dirty fucking whore, that’s how you ended up here, isn’t it? Needed to be constantly filled, your husband wasn’t enough?” He thrust into you with vigor, your sputtering sounds only spurring him on more while you breathed through your nose, you couldn’t help but whine, preening at the sensation of a dick in your mouth once again. It felt, so, so good, despite the circumstances. “Don’t you worry, I’ll fill you up alright, fill you up enough you stay full.” His pace began to falter after a few more minutes. “Fill you up with my baby, fulfill your biological destiny like the pretty little whore you are.” You wriggle, trying to get some sory of sensation between your legs as you hungrily sucked at him, desperately needing his cum inside you.

He spilled into you, salty and thick and so fucking good, you swallow down every goddamn drop.

With a hand fisted in your dress, Joel pulled you up and to your feet, shoving you back against the wall as he cleaned up. “You are going to apologize to her, and after that.” Joel was close up against you again. “You are going to keep my daughter’s name out of your fucking mouth.” His tongue flicked out to lick at the corner of your mouth and swiped his tongue over your lips. “After tonight, we on’t be wasting one more drop in your mouth. Every last bit of me goes to filling you up, but this-” He patted your stomach where his cum was heading. “Should keep you satisfied until next time.”

Until next time.

Joel pulled you upstairs and into Ellie’s room where he shoved you forward. You fold your hands in front of you and bow your head, hoping she can’t see any evidence of you being a whore for her father on your face. You doubted Joel would’ve allowed that.

“I’m sorry for intruding, Miss Miller. It won’t happen again.” You are careful not to imply you heard anything, know anything, and certainly not imply that she did anything wrong. Joel wouldn’t stand for that.

“Yeah, whatever.” Was all she replied before Joel sent you out of the room, and all you hear as the door closes is “It’s okay, baby girl. It’s handled.”

But your thoughts were swirling on something else, how turned on you were, how dominant he was, how fucking hot he is, but most important, those last few words.

Until next time.

******************

We get to the spice nice and fast ayyyyyyyyeeee

We love Joel being protective of his daughter <3

Let me know your thoughts!

Remember, reblogs spread the work, comments means the world!

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Ghosted

Ghosted - Always Watching (Chapter 8)

Series Summary - Prince Liam fell for Riley Brooks hard and fast. A marriage filled with love and devotion was within his reach. But everything changed when she vanished just before the end of the social season. As everyone voices their concerns regarding her scandalous departure, a confession from an unlikely source turns Liam's world upside down and makes him question everything around him.

Book/Pairing - TRR - Liam x MC (Riley Brooks)

A/N1 - This AU starts right before the beginning of the engagement tour. There is a two-month lapse between the coronation and where we pick up, but we will stray from canon. Please excuse any errors found.

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

The morning after the discovery of the maid’s body, Liam sat with Olivia, Drake, and Maxwell inside the study at the Applewood estate. Liam canceled the barn raising scheduled for the day early that morning. He told the press it was because of inclement weather, which was not necessarily a lie, although it wasn’t the entire truth. 

Liam realized they could not keep the murder under wraps forever. Only a few people knew the real reason for the cancellation, including those in the safe room, Drake, Olivia, Maxwell, and the guards. He planned to keep it that way until they knew who was responsible, and then he would happily release that information to the public. He visited with Rhonda’s family briefly and told her husband they would receive a stipend from the crown, as well as college funds for her children. 

They all believed that the incidents shared a relation; the only steady lead they had regarding Riley wound up dead days later, and that was no coincidence for anyone. Olivia explained to Liam in great detail her observations at the crime scene; after hearing her retelling, he too believed the area was staged, but he couldn’t make too many conclusions until Bastien presented him with the evidence. 

The bloodied dress put a sense of urgency on things, but the murder really made everything more critical. Whoever was behind this was clearly not playing a game and didn’t want their plan to be uncovered. He was growing restless, not knowing the extent to which this treachery ran. 

It appalled him that all of this happened right under his nose. The doubts about the narrative against Riley were always there, but this runs deeper than just wanting a particular woman to sit on the throne as Queen. Whoever orchestrated all of this was an enemy of the Crown, and Liam was determined to rid that negativity of his court. 

Another part of his impatience was purely the need to see with his own eyes that Riley was safe. The guilt he felt for turning his back on her crept up on him at random times throughout the day, but he was trying to push that aside and focus on locating her at any cost. He hoped that whoever was responsible hadn’t been able to locate her either; he prayed with everything in him that after she arrived in New York, she found a safe place to retreat, far away from the turmoil that was unraveling around him. 

“OH! What about this one?” Maxwell exclaimed, as he sat next to Drake and scrolled through an online catalog of outfits for an upcoming gala.  

Drake rolled his eyes. “Please stop showing me this crap. S’long as you wear something, I don’t really give a shit what you show up in.” 

“What are you going to wear?”

“Clothes, most likely.”

“Clothes, most likely.” Maxwell mocked under his breath. 

“What was that?” Drake snapped. 

“Nothing! Oh, this has a matching one! Look! Ohmygosh we could match! Twins!” Maxwell exclaimed as he once again shoved his phone in Drake’s face. 

Drake grimaced at the sight before him. It was a set of bright blue ocean wave suits, complete with a bright orange squid bow tie. “God, no. Not even if you paid me.” He replied as he shook his head. 

“Oh, come on, Walker. You can be a sea creature instead of one who drags his knuckles on the ground.” Olivia added with a smirk. 

Drake flipped her off. “Fuck. You.” 

Olivia snickered. “I’d rather take a lava bath, but thanks.” 

“I’ll see if Bertrand will match me,” Maxwell said with a mischievous grin. 

“Good luck with that, Beaumont,” Drake answered. 

“It could go better than you think, honestly. He’s been super nice to me ever since we told him about all this stuff with Riley. I miiiiight be able to get him to do it.” 

“I’m taking pictures if it happens, hands down,” Drake chuckled. 

Olivia subtly rolled her eyes. “Stay away from me, regardless of what you wear. You too, Walker.” 

“Way ahead of you there, Ice Duchess.” 

Liam stayed quiet; although he still held rage with Bertrand and his tasteless actions, he hadn’t given his status as Duke much thought. Although it had not left his mind, for now, especially for Maxwell’s sake, he was keeping his inner thoughts to himself. 

A knock interrupted them from their uplifted moment. Liam stood and granted them entrance, and Bastien appeared with a bow. “Your Majesty, I was hoping to give you an update on the homicide.” 

“Of course.” 

“We have no clear suspects. However, we discovered a murder weapon.”

Olivia’s ears perked up from her seat, and Liam’s eyes widened. “You did?” 

“Yes, sir. We found it in the woods near the area, and I sent it off for analysis. It was a black knife with gold trimmings; I believe it to be the same one used in the earlier ceremony that night.” Bastien held out a folder to Liam, who accepted it and started looking through it immediately.  

The picture at the start revealed the murder weapon, which was the same knife used to cut the apple with Madeleine, but covered in blood from the tip to the hilt. He flipped further and felt his stomach churn at the images of the crime scene. The first few photos were of the maid’s face and he could recognize her, but barely. As he proceeded, he suddenly pulled the file away from his face with a grimace as he saw the cause of death photographed.

“I apologize, sir. I should have given you a warning beforehand.” 

Liam swallowed thickly and with a deep breath resumed, but a tad more prepared for the sight this time. “My God…” He gasped. “What – How – I –” He stammered before closing his mouth with a shake of his head.  

“We still don’t know a lot, sir, as it’s still the early stages of investigating. But we are working around the clock to ensure we receive a solution promptly. Obviously, we’re certain the cause of death was the wound in the jugular, however, we have sent the body for analysis as well. When I spoke with the other staff, they recalled seeing her earlier in the day, but her whereabouts past three p.m. are unknown.” 

“Is that everything?” 

“For now, yes. I will let you know something else as soon as I know.” 

Liam resumed his venture through the folder and furrowed his brows at some of the random items photographed as evidence; the things Olivia noted were present, as well as what appeared to be a cap for a tube of lipstick with a clear set of fingerprints. Of course, the suspect could have dropped the item, but it seemed conveniently placed within the other markers. The only thing that implied relevance was a bloodied shoe print. He could tell it was a woman’s, as the base was short and narrow, not to mention the pinpoint of a heel. However, it was still an odd discovery given that there appeared to be no other signs of blood anywhere else except on the body itself. “Bastien, are you questioning the legitimacy of this crime scene? At all? I see multiple red flags here just at first glance.”  

“We found a few things out of the ordinary, but I have sent everything for analysis. I’m confident either way, the forensics will produce some kind of answer.”

Liam nodded, sufficed by his response. “Have you looked for Riley? Or Tariq?” 

“I have attempted but have found no new leads. However, I am still continuing even with arrangements for the tour and the homicide investigation. I am doing everything in my power to provide you with some answers.” 

“Thank you, Bastien. Just… keep me updated…” Bastien nodded and bowed before he exited. As he did, Liam stood staring blankly at the door behind him, his mind a jumbled mess of chaos that seemed to only get worse by the day. 

Drake cautiously approached Liam. “You alright, man?” 

Liam laughed sardonically. “No, Drake, I’m not… How am I just supposed to wait? How long is it going to take Bastien to find something?”

“I’m not sure, but what else can we do?” 

Liam ran a hand down his face and let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know. If I did, we’d be doing it.” He snapped, but immediately caught himself and retracted. “Sorry, Drake. I’m just…” 

“Na, it’s cool. I get it. I wish there was something we could do, but… it sounds like we’re just waiting until Bastien can get those reports back.” 

“Goddamnit,” Liam growled as he slammed his fist down on the desk he stood beside. “I– I can’t just sit here and wait. I need to do something now."

“Perhaps we should seek outside help,” Olivia interjected. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I have an acquaintance who is somewhat of a… ‘private investigator’. He’s not cheap, but he’s worth every penny. He can look into Riley and Tariq’s locations, for sure, as well as whatever else you may see fit…” 

“I’m not against the idea… but how would that even work?” 

“We can figure out the details later, but I have somewhat of a cover already thought of. I can easily say he’s my driver, or bodyguard, or anything, really. Who’s going to question me? Honestly?” 

“Much as I hate to admit it, maybe she’s onto something, Li,” Drake interjected with a sour face. “Bas clearly has his hands full, and I know you wanna get some kind of answer.”

“See? Even the cave dweller agrees!” Olivia exclaimed, earning her a middle finger from Drake. “Plus, perhaps having another set of capable eyes around will do us some good.”

“I want to agree, I really do. It’s just… the last person to get involved with this was… well, you know. Do we really want to put someone else in danger like that?”

Olivia snickered. “It’s cute of you to worry, but he’s more than capable of defending himself.” 

“I don’t know…”

“Do it, Liam! DO IT! Or I will myself!” Maxwell exclaimed. 

“No offense, but how are you gonna pay him?” Drake asked. 

“Perhaps he would be interested in a one-on-one interpretive dance class; we could trade one service for another.”

“Hate to break it to you, but your dance class ain’t worth shit.” 

Olivia rolled her eyes but approached Liam and blocked Maxwell and Drake from view, forcing him to focus on her. Of course, her top priority was ensuring Riley’s safety, but in addition, she had her own questions regarding her blackmail. She would help Liam with anything, but this was more than merely a favor; it was personal. However, Bastien’s competency was undoubtedly questionable in Olivia’s mind. She couldn’t rule him out as a suspect, but she didn’t exactly have something concrete to tie him to anything. For the time being, she needed a second set of capable hands.

“Liam, we have to act on this now. Whoever did this is actively covering their tracks. If we don’t do something, we may never figure this out.” Olivia pleaded.

Liam swallowed thickly and kept his gaze trained on the floor. “I know…” 

“So, let my associate come and assist us. If he doesn’t provide answers, I’ll pay his service fees out of pocket. But of course, I’ll be working alongside him.” 

“I trust you, Olivia, I do. However, I’m worried that putting another person into the equation may end up biting us in the ass in the long run.” 

“I understand, but again, he’s highly trained and knows what he’s doing. All we have to do is keep his cover intact until we can locate one of them. We can’t tip the mastermind off and give them an opportunity to bury this deeper. As long as everyone in this room keeps their mouth shut about his true purpose, we should have no issues.” 

Liam looked away with a heavy sigh; although he remained hesitant to add another person to this mess, the thought of getting any kind of answer outweighed any con he could think of. And, he trusted Olivia to steer him correctly. He finally said, “Okay, do it...” 

“I already did, Liam. He’ll be in the country this evening, hopefully,” Olivia smirked. “Now, we need to address the next order of business…” she trailed off as she approached the window and stared out. “Whoever did this killed that maid to send us a message; I think we need to send one back.”

Liam’s jaw fell open. “What?! Why would you think that, Olivia? We–”

Olivia held her hand up to stop him. “Let me finish; we need to send a message while doing ourselves a favor. The tour leaves for Italy in four days, but that can not happen, Liam.” 

Liam furrowed his brows. “You want me to cancel the tour?” 

“No, I want you to rebuild it to stay in the country. Think about it; you’re technically still going along with their plans, but perhaps throwing a wrench into them. You’re showing that you’re willing to play along for now, but you won’t back down entirely like they assume you’ll do.” 

Liam shook his head. “I don’t think that’s smart, Olivia. We don’t know what they’re capable of or what lengths they’ll go to.” 

“I’m aware of that, but it’s not like you’re canceling everything; you’re simply rerouting, so to speak. The results will still be the same; you’ll ‘marry Madeleine.’ How you get there shouldn’t matter.”

“Isn’t that suspicious? To suddenly keep the tour within the country?”

“It would be, but I thought ahead and I think I have a decent proposal laid out.” Olivia produced a file and handed it to Liam. “How are we going to figure this out internationally? We have to stay here…”

Liam opened the folder and saw a detailed explanation for the sudden changes, as well as a list of future events to be held within the duchies. “Wow,” He responded with wide eyes. “This – this is convincing, and you’ve practically already planned everything… When did you have time for all this?”  

“Last night. I wanted to come and find you right after Walker and I left the crime scene, but I assumed my plan would get a stronger reaction if I laid it out for you. All you have to do is make the calls…”

“I think it’s a solid move, Li,” Drake interjected. “You’re standing your ground but yet still giving the appearance that you’re moving forward for the ‘greater good of Cordonia.’ I’ll help you take care of anything you need help with, or try to at least. But she’s right; we won’t find any more information about what happened to Brooks globe-trotting.” 

“Trust me, I don’t want to leave, but we already set these events! What am I supposed to do to–” 

“You need to pull your head out of your ass, Liam.” Olivia interrupted. “You’re the King and I think this would be a lot easier if you’d start acting like it.” She saw Liam contemplating her statement and stepped closer to him with narrowed eyes. “It’s time you put your fucking Crown on and show these assholes that you won’t back down. What’s really important to you here, Liam? Do you want to figure this out, or are you going to let them use your duty to control you – again? I lay the plan out for you and when my associate joins us, we are that much more prepared if they were to strike back, but we can’t pussyfoot around anymore. You wanted to do something now, so do it.” 

Liam stared at her for a long moment as her words echoed in his mind and a newfound determination took over him. His nostrils flared as his hands balled into fists at his sides. The bright blue orbs that were previously dimmed seemed to darken even further. Olivia was right; this was his country, his call, and the ball was now in his court.

Liam never said a word, but soon marched over to the desk and picked up the phone. He listened intently until someone answered the other end of the line. “Buonasera, Francesco. I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel our pre-scheduled festivities...” 

Liam, Drake, and Maxwell worked the rest of the day and into the evening to cancel all the tour’s events, and were well on their way to planning what Olivia had mapped out. With the newly produced schedule, they would have much more time to focus on their investigation while still keeping the same number of events as before.

Liam’s determination in his decision stood firm, however, he couldn’t deny feeling apprehensive as well. He was sure there would be retaliation in some form and was unsure as to just how far they would go. However, the power he felt at that moment was something he wasn’t used to. Since his ascension, he’d signed treaties and other small documents, but this was the first time he was going to assert his authority in such a large capacity. Adrenaline ran through his veins and for the first time, he felt like a King. 

The door to the study was suddenly flung open without warning, startling everyone inside. Madeleine marched into the room with a red face. “What the hell, Liam?!” Constantine trailed not far behind her, although his expression was one more of confusion than anger. 

“Ah, I take it you’ve learned of our changes?”

“There will be no changes! We’ve had this planned for weeks! We’re not canceling within a few days–”

“I already did.”

The color drained from Madeleine’s face. “No, you didn’t.” 

Liam indignantly laughed. “Oh, I sure did.” 

Madeleine’s cheeks heated further, nearly purple. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Constantine put a gentle hand on Madeleine’s shoulder. “Language.” He scolded. Madeleine stepped back with her arms crossed over her chest. “Liam, I want to believe you’re not doing all of this for an irrational reason.”

“I’m simply doing what’s best for Cordonia.” Liam shrugged. 

Madeleine scoffed and shook her head. "Unbelievable! Have you completely lost your mind? How is this what’s best for anyone?!” 

Constantine turned and gave her a warning glance. “Although I do not agree with her delivery, I echo Countess Madeleine’s question.” 

“First off, explain to me how an international tour is beneficial to Cordonia at this current moment. The only event that even made a difference was the charity banquet in Paris; the rest of it was just a bunch of bullshit. This way, we can rally our people behind us.” 

“It was for publicity, Liam!” Madeleine exasperated. “We need to worry about our international standings, which are going to be shit now that you’ve–” 

“Our key priority is the Cordonian people. My father pointed out to me that the citizens doubt our union already, and I can’t say I blame them. It isn’t a secret that you weren't my first choice, not even the second.” Liam had to hide his smile as he stood from his seat and crossed the room to stand in front of Madeleine. 

He forced the softest tone he could when he spoke again. “I want to do everything I can to ensure this works. I know I haven’t done my part, but this is my first step in making amends. Although the international publicity would be good, we need our homeland’s support more. We can enlist in media coverage so we can still get the word out, but Madeleine, we need to stay here. Cordonia needs us right now; Cordonia needs to see its future leaders united. We have to show them we are going to lead them together.” He swallowed down the lump of bile in his throat. 

Constantine observed Liam’s body language during their interaction. Never had he seen him so confident about a decision; he looked regal, authoritative, not a hint of doubt to be present. Liam made undeniable points, and he had preached to both of them to do more to keep the people's faith in their union. However, he couldn’t help but feel like Liam could have ulterior motives for the sudden change. 

Constantine arched his brow. “That’s why you’re doing this?” 

“Yes, father. I just want to ensure the right people are supporting us. We need strength internally. I’ve adapted all the best traditions into our stops along the tour to honor those who have come before us. And, well–” Liam sighed and looked away. “I need to show the Cordonian people I am in the right mind to lead them. They’ve questioned me since my coronation. I have to show them I can do this… I can’t do that from Italy or Paris...” 

Constantine eyed Liam sternly for a long moment. Throughout his life, he could force Liam to break with only a glance. It never worked on Leo, but Liam always cracked under the pressure if he was hiding something. However, Liam showed no signs of hesitation and there were no slips in his facade. He looked regal, poised, composed, calm, and firm, with just a hint of vulnerability. Since he passed the signet ring to Liam, he was practically begging him to get his head together, and the man standing in front of him appeared to be doing just that.  

Liam knew exactly what Constantine was doing as soon as his brow arched. It’s the same glare that had gotten him into trouble multiple times growing up and he expected to endure the stare as soon as he told his father the news. It took all of his restraint, but he never let his carefully placed expression stray from his features. He silently prayed Constantine couldn’t notice the sweat profusely forming in his palms, though. 

After a long moment, Constantine’s face broke out into a small smile. He stepped forward and patted Liam on the shoulder. “I believe this is an excellent idea, son. You have my full support.” 

Liam had to fight hard to hide his surprise. He expected more of a fight from Constantine, but perhaps Olivia provided the perfect excuse. He slightly bowed and said, “Thank you, father.” 

“Let me know if you require any support in the plans.”

“Thank you, but we’re nearly finished.” Liam turned to Madeleine, who stood with her arms still crossed over her chest. “What do you say, Madeleine? You’re free to look over the arrangements if you’d like. We’ve left your bachelorette party on the same day as before, but the location is open to the entire country… Just say the word and I'll have the jet prepared...” 

Madeleine rolled her eyes. “I don’t get why you want to cancel an international tour so we can go to the same old duchies–” 

“Countess, your King made his wishes known and his reasons are relevant. Do you wish for the people to doubt your reign as Queen?” Constantine asked with his hands clasped behind his back. “Perhaps after the coronation fiasco this would have been the best solution, anyway.”

“Fine, we can proceed with your new plans.” Madeleine finally relented. “But there had better be media coverage, Liam.” 

Liam fought the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he nodded. “You have my word.” 

Constantine smiled and put a hand on both of their shoulders. “I’m proud of both of you. You’re going to change the course of Cordonian history, the two of you. Have you prepared a statement, son?”

“I’m working on it,” Liam answered. “Would you like to be present with me, Madeleine? Perhaps it would be better if we announce the changes together.” 

Before Madeleine could respond, Constantine did so for her. “Yes, that’s a splendid plan. Do use urgency so we may stay on track. Be sure to extend invitations to our international counterparts who we expected to see along the tour, though.”

Liam nodded, and Constantine exited with Madeleine at his side, who trampled away with heavy footsteps. Drake audibly gagged as soon as the door closed behind them. “That was hard to watch.”

Liam shuddered. “Tell me about it. Do you think they bought it?” 

“I think so,” Maxwell answered. “Your dad seemed really into the idea, honestly… and as long as it’s heavily publicized, Madeleine will be happy.” 

Liam rubbed his hands together. “Right… Right… You’re right…”

“Calm down, Li. You did good.” Drake patted him on the back. “They bought it and I think you made a smart move by enlisting Maddy to make the statement with you.”

“I agree. It’s showing the mastermind that although I’m changing things up, Madeleine is on board. That’s who they’re concerned about, anyway... I’m hoping that having her support on this will work to our advantage.” 

“Damn straight. Now, we gotta hurry and throw all this bullshit together so you can get your statement out there.” 

A few hours later, Olivia was on her way to meet with her contact on the outskirts of the city limits. Her acquaintance was someone she worked with in the past and trusted to assist them. He helped her look into the source of her own blackmail after she hit a wall. Olivia only traced it back to three different middlemen; had it not been for her associate’s aid, she never would’ve found the others. He didn't classify himself as an investigator, spy, or hacker; simply a jack of all trades. His skill set and knowledge were insurmountable, and Olivia knew he would be a worthy asset. 

Olivia pulled up to an empty parking lot aside from one other vehicle. A tall man in a black leather jacket stepped out and adjusted his shirt underneath as he did so. He took off his sunglasses and leaned against the side of the car. She exited her own SUV and made her way over, all the while looking around to ensure they were alone. 

“Thank you for meeting with me, Ray. I have a job for you.” Olivia cautiously spoke as she reached him. 

Ray smiled and bowed to her. “What can I do for you, Duchess?” 

“I need you to look into the whereabouts of two people. The first is Tariq, second Riley Brooks.” 

Ray nodded. “I was wondering if you were going to seek help there.” Olivia’s brows furrowed, causing Ray to chuckle. “Please, anyone could tell those photos were fakes or set up. It seems likely that the one who leaked the story is the same person who blackmailed you.”

“It’s not just the story, Ray. We think someone removed her from the situation. We found this–” Olivia produced the trash bag with Riley’s contaminated dress and held it out to Ray, who took it and glanced at the contents. “–inside a shed, along with all of Riley’s other belongings.”

“A shed?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Ray gave her an unsure expression. “I don’t like that, Olivia. That instantly gave me an unsettled feeling. There’s a reason her stuff is there.” 

“Trust me, I know...” 

Ray once again looked inside the bag. “You haven’t sent this off anywhere? To check the DNA?” 

“I intended to, but then I was called to a homicide for the only solid lead we’ve had regarding Riley.” Ray didn’t even try to hide his shock, which caused Olivia to chuckle. “Yeah, tell me about it. Obviously, we’re thinking it’s all connected, but…” 

Ray noticed Olivia’s hesitant expression and inquired, “What?” 

Olivia sighed and explained to Ray all the things she observed the night of the maid’s murder. When she finished, she added, “I was going to have Bastien send that dress off to forensics, but after his futile behavior, I don’t think I want him near it. He’d probably fuck around and lose it or something.” She rolled her eyes. 

“I can have it sent to the lab I use if you’d like. If I tell them it’s a stat order, I should only have to wait a few days.” 

Olivia nodded. “Yes, do that.”

“You got it. Now, have there been any leads into either of your missing persons?” 

“All Bastien has found is that Riley landed in New York the morning after the jamboree.”

“Nothing on Tariq?” Olivia shook her head. “Hmm… I find it odd that there would be no trace of him.” 

“I can confirm on my end I found the same result when I searched.” 

“I’ll begin at once. And you want me to travel with you?”

“Just for now. If we’re correct once the news breaks of the tour’s new destinations, there may be retaliation. I’m not sure what that could look like at this point and I need more people around who can properly assess situations. Honestly, finding Riley’s dress and leaving it opened my eyes to the fact that we’re all emotionally involved in this. There’s no reason for it to have sat in there a second longer once we found it, but we were all so stunned nobody was thinking. I hate to admit it, but even myself included.” 

“I can see why; it’s a lot of information to learn at once and not a lot of it makes any sense from where I’m standing. But I agree that having someone with a firm and clear mindset could benefit you.”

“I’m counting on it.” Olivia handed him a thick folder. “Here is your dossier to cover you throughout the tour. You are now Harold Marshowitz, my new bodyguard. Alternative forms of identifications are in there as well as any security clearance you may need.” 

“Got it.” 

“Great, let’s get moving.” 

“Wait–” Ray stopped her. “While we’re free to speak openly, I wanted to bring forth another potential lead I see…” 

Olivia arched her brow. “I’m listening…” 

“Have you looked into that article? At all?” 

“What do you mean?”

“It had to come from somewhere; it didn’t just appear. Not only did someone have to take those photos, but there was a story attached to it. Someone concocted that; I’m unsure if it’ll be the same person, or…” 

Olivia shook her head as frustration washed over her. “No, I hadn’t even thought about that…” 

“As you said, you’re all emotionally involved in this. I’m not, so I can see things a little more clearly…” Ray trailed off, then hesitantly spoke. “I’m, uh – a little surprised that the guard didn’t think of that.” 

“Bastien is an idiot, but something about his demeanor lately has struck me as off… I don’t know if he’s developing dementia, or if it’s something deeper…”

“All the more reason to have me around,” Ray smirked. 

“Is that something you can look into? The article?”

Ray flashed her a cocky smile and straightened his jacket. “Who do you think you’re talking to?” 

Olivia rolled her eyes. “I’m trusting you, Ray. I need you to come through for me.” 

Ray placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “All jokes aside, this is what I live for, Olivia. I love sinking my teeth into a juicy mystery. I will find them, you have my word.”

Out of sight, a figure was lurking in the shadows not far away, intently watching and listening to the meeting. As Olivia and Ray vacated the area together, the peeper clenched their jaw and repetitively punched the tree they stood beside. After removing their surveillance equipment and slamming it to the ground, they started vigorously pacing.

Everyone assumed Liam could start asking questions, but his duty and broken heart were supposed to keep him blinded. The expected time for his inquiries was long after the wedding when the job would be fully completed. However, Liam and his collective group of friends were making progress in their search and had uncovered too much in a short period; not everything, but it wouldn’t be that hard to find the rest of those answers, especially now that he brought on a competent professional to help. Considering how early it was in the tour, the possibility of him figuring it out suddenly skyrocketed. 

As a result, the entire operation was in more danger than ever before; that was not an option for anyone involved. They served the deception all around; if the mission was uncovered, multiple people would go down for it, and they would face the wrath of more than the current monarch. 

It wasn’t hard to guess where their investigation would lead them next, and that meant another loose end just identified itself. The unknown person brought out their phone to make a call, which was answered on the first ring. “We have a tremendous problem…”

Tags (let me know if you'd like added or removed): @choicesficwriterscreations @ao719 @txemrn @imashybish @queenrileyrose

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[koco-coko]

Cain & | Ikemen Vampire Fic

-> Two halves of a whole, seperated by fate.

Tags/Warnings <--> Past Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Vlad/Comte, Comte/Leonardo (not a threesome), Longing, Grief, Comte is babygirl-coded in this, Spicy Scenes (nothing graphic so viewer discreation advised), Heavy Spoilers for Vlad and Comte!!!

Word Count: 1,981

A/N <--> I wanted to post this on valentines, but then I realized maybe a tragic love story wouldn't be great for valentines... but i mean someone needs to bring down the mood right

i think they might like this: @natimiles @yanderepuck and @azulashengrottospiano (I thought you would like seeing comte be sad and moody and also vlad being silly soo) @drewadoodle

“Hello, Abel.”

Is that what Cain said the morning before he killed his brother?

God always favored Abel. No matter what Cain brought, God always favored his brother. So, enraged, Cain killed his brother Abel. And there was no turning back from that, was there?

The smell of cigarillos and book pages forever clung to the man next to him. The light snores he made were all too familiar. Comte knew the five senses of Leonardo better than he knew his own, really. They were ever-comforting in their mundanity.

As he finished buttoning up his shirt, pants still missing (mysteriously lost in the sea of the wood floor, in the tide of other discarded clothes), he turned to Leonardo and threw his arm over the man’s broad chest. (Though Comte did squint when he  realized Leonardo was already asleep– it hadn’t even been five minutes! How was he meant to take this man seriously…) 

Ah– he smiled. He knew that feeling, too; the steady beating of his heart, the rising and falling of his lover’s chest. It was all so normal to him. Homely, domestic, all sensation he craved for.

Though, one wouldn’t be able to tell that from the quickly-healing scratch marks on Leonardo’s back, nor the many bruises on Comte’s collarbone and waist.

As le Comte snuggled closer to the Renaissance man, a vision hit him like a stray carriage. He’d been here before, but the senses of familiarity were much different. There had been plentiful bottles of wine that night, too. There had been affection, pleasure, warmth… but there were a few sensations that were unique about that night.

The firelight traced Leonardo’s face in such a romantic way, the pureblood couldn’t help but lean up and kiss his cheek. Comte tried to exude such images from his mind. The past only brought sorrow and longing, and yet… The fireplace crackled.

The fireplace…

The fireplace crackled. “A-And– And-!” Abel hiccuped, a drunken grin on his face while he wobbled about on the floor. It had been a while since he drank so much, wine bottles as old as them littered about the floor. Vlad was barely conscious at this point, giggling like a madman at every word his companion said.

“She didn’t,” Vlad cooed, barely staying upright in his seating position. He leaned against the fireplace several times, his cheeks flush and his forehead beaded with sweat as he reached for Abel’s bottle.

“She did!” he laughed. Then, a short whine as he tried to take the bottle from Vlad’s grasp. When Vlad tugged again, Abel tumbled to the ground next to him. They both couldn’t stop laughing, far beyond the lines of sobriety. 

When the cackling died to loose giggles, Abel looked back at Vlad through teary eyes. “My, it truly has been an eternity since I’d seen you,” he said, wiping his wet eyes. 

When he looked back, all he saw was a pale red staring at him. The man before him was… entranced, even. Maybe it was the drinks getting to him. Maybe they really were just a bit too drunk. Maybe this was a mistake that he’d regret all his eternal life.

But the next thing Abel knew, his back was against the fur rug and his lips were smashed against Vlad’s. Liquor and Rouge blended into a terribly sweet, terribly addictive taste. A hint of strawberries in there, somewhere. “I missed you, too,” Vlad whimpered, his hands roaming across Abel’s hips. It was just a glimmer, but Abel saw some indescribable sorrow behind the vivid crimson. 

Abel opened his mouth, but all words were cut off when Vlad pulled his collar down and peppered kisses across his neck. Abel giggled nervously, his fingertips gliding across Vlad’s back. “You know…” he started, “Despite my ‘prestigious’  reputation, I haven’t–”

Abel’s breath hitched as a bite was placed right on the side of his neck. His fangs didn’t penetrate, though he could tell that the way they graced his skin was intentional.

Vlad lifted himself up, caging in Abel beneath him. His face was flush with alcohol and affection, but that boyish smile seemed stolen straight from the days long gone. “Me neither,” he chuckled, “It’s been awhile since old men like us have done something new, hasn’t it? Tonight seems like a good opportunity.”

It was strange, Comte thought, how he could barely recall anything else about that beloved night. The night he discovered Vlad still lived, that those years spent longing for him weren’t for naught… That the tears he shed may not have been completely useless… It was all just a blur. 

Perhaps it was the alcohol, fogging the memory of inexperienced touches and passionate kisses, tongues tying only to break apart so the other could giggle at a mishap. Belt buckles and shoes seemed so hard to take off at that time, filled with silly jokes and laughs, plenty of fiddling, everything felt so… new. Experimental, even. It was rare Abel felt particularly young but never unwelcome.

It may also have been Vlad’s touch, gentle and delicate, but so enticing. He was dedicated to him, as if he were painting a fine masterpiece. Each caress came with passion, though their experience was clear as day. Porcelain fingertips traced their way towards Abel’s face and gently covered his eyes, a soft mantra repeated and infested. A rose field appeared in his mind’s eye, a single whisper from the man on top of him. “Dragă mea…” Sharp fangs sunk into his neck with tender care, a soft caress on his side.

From there, it was a blur of pure bliss.

Comte crawled out of bed with a slight sore in his back, though he knew he would dissipate in minutes. Only once he stood up and searched the floor for his pants did he figure out that his shirt was a size too big. The cigarillo musk was just as prominent despite leaving Leonardo’s side. Ha, really, was his lover so possessive as to hand him his own shirt? Comte shook his head fondly as slid his pants back on.

Comte went about cleaning the area, folding up lost clothing articles and picking up the empty bottles of wine littered across the floor. Maybe they overdid it tonight, but sometimes it was nice to recreate their rebellious and reckless phases from bygone days. 

When Comte gazed at the fireplace, memories swirled through his head. It was vivid and blurry, amorous and lonely, everything and nothing. He spent years mourning Vlad, sobbing into his mother’s arms when the news of the Draculęsti family’s death arrived. He remembered acting out constantly, he remembered the longing, the primal need to see him smile one more time.

Abel sighed dreamily, the rose field in front of him seemingly endless. Snow-tipped flowers swayed back and forth like tides on the sea. Despite the wonderful sight in front of him, all he could focus on was the golden pocket watch in his hands, caressing it like a lover. “Is it naive of me to say I’m excited?”

Vlad, laying on his lap, while he played with the split tail of his long coat, merely hummed in vague amusement. “May I ask why you wonder this?”

Golden eyes flitted between the watch and the pureblood snug on his thighs, smiling fondly at each. “It’s nothing, really. Though, often I wonder if my psyche is too human. A newly built home for us both, the expecting of children… I feel like a newlywed wife!” he laughed, his free hand running through Vlad’s silky white hair.

Vlad quickly took Abel’s hand, reverently laying pecks across his fingertips. “I think it’s beautiful. Humans, vampires… I’ve never been able to distinguish us so easily. Well, until that day…” A pause came. Vlad’s smile remained ever gently, not even a flicker in his expression. “No matter, I feel the same, though perhaps I’m too old and jaded to act as giddy,” he chuckled. “Is there anyone you’ve had an eye on, Abel?”

Abel looked out into the sea of roses. A gentle breeze made his long, golden hair sway across his face, though Vlad was quick to sit up and remove it. In this new position, lazy pecks were put against his neck and shoulders. Those everlasting roses, this everlasting love…By any other name, they would smell just as sweet.

“I’ve always had a liking to the works of Shakespeare.”

A yawn elicited Comte to return to his bed, only having a quick tug-of-war with Leonardo for his blankets back. Usually it took longer… He quickly realized that his partner’s relent was due to the arm thrown around his shoulders, forcing Comte close to Leonardo’s chest. He sighed contently as he nuzzled close to his lover.

Comte had never been a fan of the past, at least in recent years. The present was far more constructive, more real than the years he lived. He was never one for reminiscing, and yet, even with his dearest, the man he’d given his heart to, beside him… His mind betrayed all logical thought.

Was it foolish, even moronic, of Abel to sit alone in his room and cry that day? The years of longing and grief had been for naught. Vlad had returned and died again. The mournfulness seemed to infect the halls of the mansion, each wall and painting mocking him. The mansion used to be so warm, so full of expectation and hope.

Now all that lingered was the never-wilting flower, alone and abandoned. Vlad had died twice. Abel’s mourning period seemed to know no end.

Comte desperately tried to purge the memories from his mind. First with Will, his firstborn son, and then the others who followed. Leonardo had been a constant figure, someone to rely on. While a love with Vlad was youthful, Leonardo’s affections were much more mature. Ha! Mature, Leonardo? What an oxymoron, Comte thought.

Still, he couldn’t deny the truth. He was carefree with Vlad by his side, making love whenever the time was right and sharing kisses and cuddles whenever it felt right. They were teenagers in love, hanging on by the loose idea of a bright future with one another. Vlad was the eternal honeymoon.

But Leonardo… The eternal marriage. Affinity was much more subdued. Deep, longing gazes and the lighting and sharing of cigarillos had replaced the passionate and messy kissing. Amorous exchanges only for private viewings replaced the rather indecent affection Vlad would perform close to the public eye. Not to say these things were gone from their relationship, their intense tryst tonight proof of such, but even these impulsive acts were done meticulously, years of trust and deeply-rooted adoration in their every thrust and rub.

With the arrival of the other residents, the mansion had suddenly grown warm again. Perhaps his giddiness over reviving historical greats as his own was a more specific issue of his, but the fact couldn’t be denied: a void was filled. The mansion, the home he had built with Vlad, was now filled with laughter and friendship, bonds between great men (and a woman) that would most certainly last their long lifetimes. The mansion was as it was meant to be: the floors painted with life, the walls etched with memories.

The castle was cold. Quiet, empty. The walls were etched with unwanted, disgraceful memories. Abel had only visited once, and never returned. He couldn’t bear seeing his oldest companion reanimated, yet possessed by a different soul. Vlad had died twice, in Comte’s eye, yet never buried.

“Hello, Abel.”

That’s what Vlad said the morning he killed Abel. 

Comte rose from his ashes, staring at the friend he once knew. “It’s been an eternity since I’ve seen you.”

He looked so lonely as he bore an ephemeral smile. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Comte sighed, unable to respond to the stranger before him.

[bluebird-in-a-cagedrawing]

Also, help i fall down this rabbit hole... I did plan to write a lot about it 😅, sorry guys for the torture, please forgive me! Ok? 🥺🥺

P. S 2.0:This is an old fanfiction that never come out two years ago, didn't have the mood to write that much...It is a bit prepared with feelings... I do plan to write more with cases and of course more SCP style since H. Hope is my SCP persona... 😅 I just got the taste of the case-detective stories 👀👀👀, oh boy... My imagination is over 9000🤣🤣♥️

...

Also part 1:->

Part 3: ->

The others strangers looked strange at her, had that look as if they could eat her, Hope was in a new completely unknown location to her, it Was scary but she had to be brave after all they Were people not anomalies.

Most teenagers and even some adults found comfort in alcohol and very fould language, they were dressed too stridently and vulgar, it Was indeed a mad world out there, the streets have so much danger on them after the sunset and With every step she took, she felt watched.

On the Site after everything that happened that day she couldn't stay there for much longer, she needed a break and her colleague understand her, for that Hope was grateful, she did not need to explain to them any forward, there was still blood, bad blood and smell, that smell made Hope sick.

While she tried to avoid unwilling conflicts a group of three boys blocked her way, that made her sigh, can't she just had a peacefully night at least once...

The blonde one said something to her, his breath smelled of cheap cigarettes and different types of alcohol, wondering how he stood on his feet by now, the middle one was shorter than the rest of those two, tried to grab Hope by her shoulder, lucky his face meet with Hope angry fist, the idiot felt down probably needed a dentist soon.

The third screams something Hope could not understand probably he had too many glass of whisky, but that kick somewhere should had wake him up.

For someone like Hope it was easy to kick their sorry lives but that wasn't something she wanted at that moment, Hope withdrew when she caught the moment.

Near the beach a detective looking at sea, the waves calmed him down, he didn't even know why he suffered from insomnia.

The moon was full and beamed with light as it looked upon him, the moon was the detective's only companion but as he sit down a noise caught his attention.

It looked like several people were chasing another person and a few swear words could be heard, this Was something that the detective didn't want to see it, his hero side come out, someone had to teach those jesters a lesson, it was incredible how society was deteriorating.

The detective had no problems When it came to fight, it is What comes with being a detective, having to know those things not only using your brain and of course be in the right shape he didn't had a problem catch up with them.

The detective had to take them by surprise so he hide behind a bush, finding a rock it throw it as far as he could, the rock made a sound that drove their attention away, following the sound they found and angry stray cat that gave them a scare, not far away two guardians having dogs come and chase those men, probably they had heard the laughter and come to see What was going on, a hotel was nearby.

As the scene was safe detective Void decided it Was time to come out, that sure Was boring but he didn't knew What happened to the fourth person, was injured, did it needed help.

As he was walking by mistake, his leg got tangled by something and in the sand his hand found a long thin rope only that it moved in his palm. As soon as it moved, it withdrew immediately leaving a thin trace in the velvet sand and clearly that wasn't a fish.

The detective follow the trace, it was obviously something was going on, he knew only one person with that tail, it was three years ago since he last saw her... And those men could come anytime soon, he had to warn her and make sure Hope was alright, not that he cared that much, sure he did not or that he tries to say to himself.

He finally found her hidden behind some rocks, the light Was weak, nearly impossible to see someone there if it wasn't for the thin rose tail that the Waves brought it ashore, he slowly gave his hand so the female anomaly would have a better chance to come out of her hidding spot.

Hope remember the young male in front of her, another strange place for a reunion but then again, they first have meet on the Site at the worst time possible, maybe next time they could have a nice cup of tea, the water in the sea was just like ice.

Just a reminder for them, they Were in an open area where they could easily fall prey, Hope made a sign, they have to move in the opposite direction, as they walked the big full moon follows them and more stars were revealing themselves.

The beach was long and wide, the sea become restless, they already were going by an half of hour, no noise, no strange figure, occasionally they heard a train passing by, the detective was silent.

Even in the darkness she could still see the sadness in his eyes,even if the detective tried so hard to hide it, something was wrong with him too, maybe he saw something that broke him too, Hope realize thst she wasn't the only one who was running from something. She knows that face too well, even in her nightmares. She got closer to the detective,as the breeze started to bother her, she still was wet from that early night bath in the sea, wished she had a towel.

Anyway deep down Hope was really happy to see the detective, since last time in a way she had missed him but then she remember her true mission and the foundation purpose, people like detective Void should be protected from any anomalies no matter the cost.

On the other hand, the silence Was killing the detective, who Were those men that were following Hope? Why Hope needed to hide from them? Have they found out? They were in danger?

The flashbacks from the recent events come before her eyes, Hope didn't even knew the detective asked her something so she tried to change the subject.

"It's crazy to think how the stars appears so small on the sky but if you would get closer to them, it can kill you."

"What are you trying to say with this?"

That wasn't exactly the conversation the detective really wanted at that moment but it had to start from somewhere plus it looked like Hope felt a little better, he saw how tense she was.

"Do you always have to let your little tail get into trouble?"

At that Hope let a small laugh, if only the detective knew, but he knows only 0.0002% of it, truth Was she always had her little tail into trouble more or less...it Was funnier this Way more or less, unlike the rest of the SCP colleague she has fun.

"I kinda wish the stars would have been this small so i could pick up some of them in my hand and make a lovely how you call those paper flowers that puts them around your neck in the old Hawai beach movies?

"For good people there will always be a compliment found."

"It's just you should be more careful... Take care of you, mister detective Void... Um, your soulmate needs you whole body and soul."

"You are sometimes weird, Hope... Why would i even need a relationship?"

"And the detectives past time activities is star gazing?"

"No. Is it yours?"

Ouch, there he caught her, she tried so hard maybe too hard to not make herself a fool well it did not work.

"Probably, i don't know, i like the night sky and looking at the many stars, at least they are not alone."

"Are you? Is that all, Hope, you are a little defensive there... When you are a detective you get to speak to lots of different people/ suspects."

"I only want someone to have a heart to heart conversation that is all. Nothing too much, or too many..."

"How was your day?"

"Great! Containment breach, violence, blood, more people in the cemetery the usually stuff. Yours?"

"Maybe i shouldn't have asked, i'm sorry... Well, i failed finding a perfect gift for someone whos birthday is about in 2 months, i can't find the right one and i am a detective i should know were to look for it."

"That is so sweet, i am sure this person knows you live them even without the perfect gift."

Hope looked at the detective and it was getting hard to keep herself up, the sad feelings were still there and it Wasn't like it could go away that easily, knocking at her doors, she tried her best to not give up anything besides good vibes, it wasn't about her anymore, it is never about her, she can go through it just fine, right? Wrong. Just thinking about those hours back the containment breach, oh gosh, it could have been anyone even the person in front of her, dead, just as cold as an ice-cream...

"Please don't go, i don't want to have you too on my consciousness. I can't protect you!"

She found herself speaking, it was true after all and if it wasn't for the professional expression mask the young detective had, that statement would have taken him by surprise. He had to admit to himself that nothing was shocking him anymore at that point, well he was wrong, they barely knew each other after all, that must have been confusing as redacted.

"I thought more than half of the foundation would dislike me, wasn't expecting this from you!"

"I don't know what your problem is but we are not evil and you are not a hero either, it's just you should live your life as a simple life nothing too complicated."

This somehow hurt him, it's not like he wanted any of this in the first place, he wouldn't admit it to anyone but this secret started to get the better of him, it wasn't like detective Void forgot his promise to forget about all of this, he really tried but fate is a cruel mistress and a twisted one.

The silence was too long and Hope decided to speak again, she didn't wanted to make him feel bad and unwanted.

"It's nice to have you in my life mister detective, i find you a funny guy with a sense of humor."

"Sense of humor? I don't think that is true about me, of course i have many qualities but that isn't on the list."

Hope started to shake, it was indeed a beautiful view but it was getting cold and colder the breeze, it was also late.

"Have you ever thought that the SCP foundation is the problem here? This secret is just a brainwash, it should have been better if people knows about it, it's the only way to confront whatever will come in the future!"

"And then what will happen? They will become so afraid that even seeing their own shadow will scare them! Some things are better left alone in the dark, if you don't know it then it won't hurt you!"

"That is not how things works, Hope!"

"Have you forgot in what twisted universe we live in?

"And does getting yourself killed solves any problems?"

"So does that means you do care a little about me? I'm flattered mister detective, please don't make me blush more than i already am."

"Eh...Why do i even bother? It's clearly i'm fighting on a war that is already lost..."

"Mister detective Void let me say something nice too, you are like a sad fairytail with a happy ending."

"That doesn't makes much sense but i will take it and please drop the mister, i'm not that old!"

"Well you sure are the detective of my life!"

Hope gave a little smile, all those books and TV series about detectives and resolving crimes, made her want an adventure like that, maybe if she asked him, Hope might have a chance.

"Again what is with this obsession about detectives?"

"Not just any detective, if i might add."

Again silence, it was fun, they just sit there on the sand and talk about ordinary things, nothing much, but neither of them mind it.

"Are you tired?"

"Yes, sort of... Mind if i let my head rest on your shoulder? So warm, i like it, ten out of ten, you would make a great pillow, detective."

"Yeah, my next great career as a pillow, a detective pillow."

Just like that Hope gave a short laugh, she already could imagine the detective pillow, at day solve cases, at night giving everybody who needs it, a great night sleep, not bad at all.She buried her face a little deeper in the detective neck, a faint blush covering her cheek.

"Come on, i saw a motel near by, i am sure they have a room where you can stay..."

She didn't wanted to go back at the Site plus too tired and she barely drag her feet, the room Was cozy points to the detective fpr knowing such a nice place, once they were in the room the bed somehow winked at her, and Hope knew how tired she Was.

"Not bad, right Hope... Oh and here i have this two coupons With 50% Off at any dumplings order, their dumplings are one and only kind, you can have them... I am too busy sometimes i forget to even eat, it would be a shame to let this coupons waste..."

The detective turned his head only to see Hope already curled up into a ball, looked like she already Was fast asleep and did not heard him, but he couldn't blame her, after that he let her a message and slowly closed the door behind him.

The detective had a lot of things on his own agenda to do, just thinking about it made him almost skip sleep that night, but that could have wait at least one more day, he could feel that he was getting closer to the truth.

The end

[allzelemonz]

Reading: Micah Bell X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader is referred to as ‘boy’ and the story portrays them as gay/mlm with mentions of legality in the time period Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: M/Near sexual encounter Warnings: Micah Bell is his own warning, I mean it this time, making out, mild grinding, teasing Summary: Mary-Beth lends you a book you can relate to, but Micah ends up getting his hands on it.

You aren’t one to stray from your usual duties around camp. There’s already enough of that from Uncle and a few others. Between everything around camp and the regular jobs from Dutch, you don’t have a lot of free time. Mary-Beth seems to have made this her problem, scouring for a book that might make you skip a fishing trip or stop cutting wood for a few minutes.

“Just give it a chance.” She begs, holding the book out.

You sigh, putting down the sack you’d hauled across camp. “What makes you think I know how to read?”

“I’ve seen you read.” She says. “And I think I finally found one you’ll like.”

Your breathing is heavy from the labor. “I don’t like that romance stuff, Miss Gaskill.”

“I know, I know.” She grins. “But I got this one from the fence in town. It’s about two men who fall in love out in the Wild West.”

You chuckle. “I don’t need some book to remind me what I’m missing out on, Miss.”

“It’s good to imagine things, Mister.” She shoves the book into your arms. “Give it a chance.”

She scurries off before you can give it back to her, leaving you standing with it. If Mary-Beth is telling the truth about the contents of the book then it’s as illegal as the regular crimes you commit. Except this one doesn’t make you money. You look down at it. The cover is plain, not even a title on the spine. It’s black and unassuming, completely innocent at a glance. You flip it open, looking over the pages. The occasional word fixes in your mind as you skim over them, confirming Mary-Beth’s summary and damning the book as contraband.

You return to your tent and set the book with your things. There’s an itch in your brain that you think the book might scratch. You resist it and go fishing instead. Pearson is grateful for the fish you bring back and takes them with a smile. In the late night you can’t resist the itch any longer. You sit down on your bedroll and open the book, reading by the lantern light.

It’s not a bad book, not that you’ve had much opportunity to read since joining the gang. It’s been a long time since you’ve read a book, let alone a good one. The story is slow and the main character is fine, the love interest seems like a nice guy. They’re both far too nice to be the gunslingers they’re painted as. They hardly shoot anyone, they don’t rob much, they’re just on the run with no explanation why. It could be because they’re homosexuals, that’s reason enough, but the author describes them as badass gunslingers with dark pasts and portrays none of it. You close the book for a minute, sighing at the annoying inability to believe what’s happening on the pages.

Your only alternative for the night is to sleep like everyone else and you just aren’t tired enough. So you open the book again and continue. Chapters lead up to the moment when they get together, hats falling off as they embrace as if they don’t have the sense to take them off beforehand. Then there’s a scene that makes your face turn red. The two cowboys, the scandal that would make the owner of this book serve time in jail. Your heart beats a bit faster when you open the book again. You’ve known how you feel, that this is the sort of reality you want, but you’ve never seen it portrayed. Your eyes scan over the words, half reading and half imagining.

“What ya readin’ there, cowpoke?”

You close the book in a hurry, unable to act inconspicuous due to the scare Micah brought on. You were so consumed in it that you didn’t hear his footsteps or anything. The action was a mistake. Micah has a broad, wicked smile on his face as he takes a step forward.

“Oh, it’s interestin’ then.” He chuckles. “It’s gotta be with a reaction like that.”

“None of your business, Micah.”

“Come on, cowpoke. I ain’t one to judge.”

“Yes you are.” You say, standing with the book in hand and a full intention to throw it into the lake.

Micah side-steps in front of you with a chuckle. “Ah, ah, ah.”

“Move, Micah.”

He tilts his head. “Ain’t ya ever heard a’ sharin’?”

Your face heats a little as he steps forward. The position he’s caught you in is more than compromising and proximity to a man you find attractive is not helping.

“I’m not doing this with you, Micah.”

You try to push past him, but he wrestles the book from your hands and takes a few steps away until he’s out of reach. He laughs at your frustration, flipping the book open. He’s opened it towards the end, around where that scene is and you wait for him to read over it. There’s not much you can do without causing a fuss for the whole camp to hear.

He chuckles. “My, my, cowpoke.”

“Shut up, Micah.”

“Mighty unrealistic if ya ask me.” He presses the book closed and lets it drop to the ground. “I’m sure you and I could do better.”

You knit your eyebrows in thought, confused for a moment before you realize what he means. He snickers as he walks back into your tent, a hand untying the closing flaps so they fall down and enclose the space. You make no move to stop him, so he takes off his hat and sets it on your small table.

You take a shaky breath. “If you’re gonna do this Micah, hurry up.”

He chuckles, taking steps towards you until he can grab at your gunbelt and pull you in for a kiss. His lips are rough and his facial hair scratches your face, sensations that make you press into him and put your hands into his somewhat greasy hair. He smirks against your lips and slowly moves his hands to undo your belt, guiding it to drop beside you when he gets it.

His leg bends to press against you and he chuckles at the feeling of your hard dick. “All hot and bothered, are we?”

When you lean in to reconnect your lips, he steps away. He has a wicked grin on his face as he reaches for his hat and places it on his head. You smile to cope with your own naivete, of course Micah pulls something like this.

“I’m gonna kill you, you asshole.”

“Ah, ah, cowpoke.” He sighs. “Just ain’t the right time.”

“Fuck you, Micah.”

He chuckles. “Oh, I know ya want to. Cowpoke.”

He backs out, leaving the tent. You take heavy and shaky breaths as you try to comprehend what exactly happened. You rush out and grab the book, meeting eyes briefly with Micah as he sits by the fire sharpening his knife. He smirks, returning his focus to the knife and shaking his head. You take the book back to your tent and throw it to the side where your gun belt rests. You can’t decide if you want to burn it or give it back to Mary-Beth just for the sake of politeness. Either way, the damn book is too much trouble.

[fickleminder]

an apple and its tree

Slight rewrite of the scene after MC wakes up in Nightbringer Lesson 13-1. Features Satan x F!OC.

Lucifer angst during his birthday? It’s more likely than you think!

Seeing how fast Satan mellows out in Kirana’s presence never fails to humble Lucifer.

She hasn’t been their attendant for long, so it’s unsettling how she knows every trick in the book to bring him and his brothers to heel. By force if need be, though somehow Lucifer can tell she never does it out of malice, only to pull the brakes on a situation if it starts spiraling out of control.

And yet with Satan, Kirana doesn’t have to use whatever secret magic she possesses to calm him down. Something about her just makes the blond demon go from scowling at the text message on his phone, threatening to crush the device in his bare hands for the hundredth time, to his entire demeanor softening when he steps into the open room and finds her awake.

“Hey…” He makes a beeline for her at the same time she reaches for him, her arms still weak and trembling slightly from the unknown curse she’d been afflicted with.

Kirana whimpers softly when Satan engulfs her in a hug, the demon almost flattening her onto the bed. She’s clinging to him for comfort, digging her fingers into his shoulders and squeezing him tightly as though he’ll disappear before her eyes if she lets go.

And that’s the trick, isn’t it? She’s never been afraid of him, never shied away during his rampages or viewed him as a monster. Unlike Lucifer and his brothers, who’d thought chaining Satan down and keeping him out of sight was the best way to deal with him, Kirana treated him like an actual person, someone who’s wanted and loved, not a ticking time bomb.

Satan is whispering to her now, something about a stray cat napping on the streets. Kirana pulls him closer and nuzzles her face against the crook of his neck.

A fragile human seeking comfort from the most volatile of the Sins; it boggles the mind, but then again, one of his Father’s golden rules had to do with the way one treated others, Lucifer muses. How far he’s fallen to have forgotten that lesson…

What Lucifer won’t forget anytime soon however, is the bright light emanating from Kirana’s ring — his ring — and her eyes fluttering open after it dies down.

“…So, you’ve finally woken up,” he breathes in relief, reaching out to stroke her face—

Only for Kirana to flinch away from him.

Lucifer immediately stills, slowly withdrawing his hand as he takes in her terrified face and tense posture. Why would she…

Ah, that’s right. Her last memory of him was being ensnared by his binding spell, paralyzed and in pain, feeling all the air being squeezed out of her lungs. He’d reached out towards her too then, hand curling into a fist as he tightened the spell, determined to force answers out of the weak human who dared to oppose him—

A basic charm is all it takes to send Kirana back into a light sleep, erasing the last few seconds of her consciousness. Lucifer takes a moment to collect himself, pulling the blankets further up to cover her shoulders, before grabbing his phone and sending Satan a text.

The sound of footsteps from the stairs reaches his ears. Shutting the door quietly, the Avatar of Pride retreats into the hallway. Asmo meets him on the way to the dining room, and Lucifer decides that the rest of his brothers can wait till after breakfast to welcome their attendant back.

[nerdnag]

How much do you plot out your stories before you write them?

More than I used to!

Up until maybe 2019 I almost never plotted out stories beforehand. Therefore I have a LOT of started docs saved with little random ideas: some of which never became more than a page, some of which went haywire after a while and never recovered. And there are some entire "books" or fics that were completely improvised as I wrote them. That used to be how I wrote when I wrote for my own enjoyment only.

I tried my hand on an overarching structure for an original work back in 2017/18, but that was probably my real first planning for any story I'd ever written.

And then I think it was @alienducky who really got me into plotting and got me stuck on it for real. We worked on a fic together, and it would have been practically impossible to do that without some kind of joint plan. I remember she started a table at the top of the doc where she listed all the scenes, and I was like yeah, that's a good idea, and it was. After that I started plotting out my own fics in a similar manner too, and now I never want to go back to how I did it before. The stories just turn out so much better when I know where I'm going from the beginning. But I plot in a way that still lets me be creative with the plot along the way.

So this is how I do it nowadays:

Scribble any little initial idea I have - sometimes in a single sentence, sometimes in a paragraph, sometimes in random loose sentences here and there that only make sense to me.

Place the bits I know I want into some kind of organised scene structure - if I don't already know which order things will happen in, I'll get a first sketch on that now. I usually structure this into actual chapter titles (placeholder titles that just give me an idea of what the scene is about) so that step 5 becomes a bit easier later.

Loosely figure out what kind of ending I want - just so I have something to aim for. Usually I have two large threads going and then a number of subthreads; the main threads (like a fantasy conflict or a romantic struggle) have to be clearly solved at the end imo, but some of the subthreads can be more loosely handled. At this point in the process though it's all just a rough sketch.

Slowly fit more pieces I want into the puzzle - any scenes that are necessary to bring me to the end somehow, or even scenes that bring me joy to think about, as long as they don't stray too far from the main threads. I also make sure to always add in early on which pov I think I want for every scene.

When I have a beginning, an end, and a number of scenes that seem to coherently bring me from one to the other, I start fleshing out parts. This usually means that I start writing bits and pieces here and there. Often I wrote the first handful of chapter first before I go on to the rest of the story, so I have a basic idea for myself of what the characters want and how they should be acting. But after the first few chapters, I usually jump from scene to scene depending on what mood I am in and what feels more joyful at any point in time. So I might write half a scene in chapter 7 one day to then write an entire chapter 22 the next day, only to then jot down a few paragraphs into chapter 16 after that. (This is my adhd working, I let it because it's worked out pretty well for me so far.)

Along the way I may come up with new ideas and adjust things, I flesh out scenes that were very barebone in the beginning, I solve and change things that turned out not to work, and when I reach the latter chapters that I wrote early on (for example ch 22, if I wrote that straight after ch 7), I'll usually have changed enough things that I need to rewrite large parts of that chapter. That is fine by me, it's all part of the process.

I should also add that if I've started posting it on for example Ao3 along the way, I sometimes - very rarely, but it happens - adjust my plans depending on what people comment. This is usually only if someone comments something that is so genius or otherwise so perfectly natural for the story that I just cannot let it go by without doing something with it, and only if it fits into the plot somehow. One example of this is when I noticed that several people were suspecting a particular character of having hidden motives. Up until that point I hadn't planned on doing much at all with that character, but when I realized that what I'd already written was leading very naturally to their conclusion, I decided to give that character more space from there on out and even played into the whole hidden agenda idea (but with a twist). That kind of thing can be really fun to do, but I don't do it if I don't think it will work for the plot I already have.

There have also been occasions where conversations with @alienducky have led me to change things in similar ways. One example of this is when I sent her a first overarching plot of my entire then upcoming fic series back in... 2020 I think? And she's great with noticing details, so she asked me how the characters would be able to send letters to each other if they didn't know where the other person was. I told her there was a magically enhanced wolf in there that would be used to bring letters back and forth. She was so into the idea of this wolf, and asked what would happen to it later in the story, that I simply had to make it part of the main cast, and in the end it even played a very important part in a reveal down the line. XD Throwaway details that grow larger like that are also very fun.

Omg I actually found our old convo from back then, I can't not add it in here.

TLDR; I plot out an overarching story with beginning, end and bits and pieces in-between, then adjust as I go.

[pinkcherryblossomangel]

Away from home - Chapter 8

Y/N is an actress, filming for her first lead role in the film adaptation of her favourite childhood book, produced by maximum effort.

She bonds with Ryan Reynolds over their share Love of the Korean pop band Stray Kids, and he has a surprise for her.

Trigger warnings- mentions of depression, self harm and anxiety

Stray kids fan fic

Mainly staring 3ratcha

Chan x oc

This is my first ever fan fiction so if it's shit soz.

He puts his arm around me as we walk to the lift. He's holding my bag, I'm wearing his jumper. It's been 4 weeks of bliss. Now we start his final week on set and I'm dreading everyday after he leaves.

Keith's at the bottom waiting for us. He's one of the only people outside our bubble who know that we've been spending a lot of time together. One evening after a late shoot he picked us up. Chris was supposed to have gone back to the hotel hours earlier, but stayed to spend time with me. Keith said he noticed me falling asleep on Chris's shoulder, and according to Keith he "saw a moonstruck look on the aussies face".

I have a few intense scenes today that I'm proper nervous about. All involving my character coming to terms with her mothers passing. I think Chan can sense this as his hand doesn't leave mine until we make it to the base.

"You good?!" He questions, I can't look up at him, my anxiety taking hold of me. He reaches over to me and lifts my head up gently, tears brimming in my eyes. "Can I hug you?" And with that small ask, the tears start falling, and I pull him into me. We stay here for a few minutes  my body needing to feel his weight against mine, till I remember poor Keith's in the front of the cab, probably feeling incredibly uncomfortable.

"Sorry, keith" tumbles from my lips.

"Don't worry sweetheart, we all feel that way somedays." He smiles in the rear view mirror, his kindness makes my heart swell. "I don't have a buff aussie to hug me through it, so you're lucky there!" Chris laughs and I manage to muster out a giggle. "I'll see you later, keep strong Y/N. You've got this." I mouth thank you into the mirror, no sound managing to leave my lips.

"Do you want me to come into hair and makeup with you?" Chan asks, his hand finding it's way back to mine.

" don't you think people may start to question things?" I let go of his hand, stop us in our tracks and face him. Closing my eyes I finally say what I've been thinking since we first kissed. "I don't want to ruin what we have, but I'd rather do that than ruin your career. I know that a dating scandal can fuck things up for you and the boys and that's not something I could live with causing. You've worked too hard for it all to be ruined by me. And you're far too nice to say..."

I'm cut off by his lips.

Hes kissing me right in the middle of the location base.

"I know we've only known each for a few weeks, but i know you being in my life is worth ruining everything for. Plus Stays aren't like that. They're not gonna leave just cause I'm in love. If anything they'll be happy we're not all bitchless."

" in love?" I ask. I can tell his life flashes before his eyes.

"Falling that way" he replies. I kiss him on the forehead.

"Me too".

-------------------‐--------------

"I just... i can't. She's gone and i don't know what to do. Its like i dont know how to breath without her here. I don't know what to do with all this love and care i have for her, what do i do with it? What do i do with myself?" My head falls into my hands, trying to stop myself from falling apart. Jenna puts her arm around me, pulling me close to her.

"You live for her. You put the love for her into yourself. Isn't that what she'd want you to do? She wouldn't want you to self destruct because she's gone. You know she'd never forgive herself for that. You'd never forgive yourself." I sob into Jennas shoulder, my body convulsing as she strokes my back and hair.

"CUT!" Olivia shouts. "That was good girls. Think we have that wrapped. 30 min break then onto the next scene. Come on guys we've only got 2 hours left today we can do it!"

"You were bloody amazing!" I divulge to jenna. "Needed that hug too" we laugh.

"You never cease to amaze me Y/N. You complimenting me after giving an Oscar worthy performance! Come let's get some food." She throws her arm around me and we walk to craft.

We walk into a makeshift Hall and we're greeted by the 3racha boys and jack all sat together laughing. They wave us over!

"Hey babe" Chris greets me with a smirk and a side hug. Hearing him say those words in front of people gives me a thrill I've never felt before. He keeps grinning up at me, and I can't helped but grin back. I kiss him on this forehead, which elicits a giggle out of changbin and a fake fainting spell from Han. Jack just seems to ignore us and starts talking to Jenna.

" I'll be back in a sec just gonna get some food." I say to Chris. He takes my hand.

"I'll come with", we walk over to the food stand and I pick a fruit salad and one crisps. Chris interrupts my food filled daydream "I saw you filming before." He must seem my worried face as he scrambles. "Just one of your takes, and honestly, I think you are such an incredible actor. " I smile at him, not knowing really how to take the compliment. So I muster out a thanks! He looks at me with such gentle eyes, and I know he means every word said.

"I'm not good with compliments" I admit, going back to the food table. "I think we have that in common don't we?" I tease. He shrugs his shoulders.

"Well I guess we'll have to work on that together."

"I guess we will".

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

"That's why I rung." My mums face is beaming on the phone screen. Chris is sat next to me, his back so straight and slightly tense. I cant help but laugh to myself, my mum knows I fancied him for ages and there's nothing he could do to embarrass himself in front of her.

"It's lovely to meet you Chris, we'll have to meet in person at some point too!" My mum almost sings

"Yeah deffo. I'm touring for a bit, but we should be having a few stops in the UK and you'll obviously get some free tickets and yeah, I'm looking forward to meeting you too." The words stumble out. Its so sweet how shy he's gotten. "Plus there's the premiere". Giggles leave my mouth as I fawn over how cute he is when flustered.

"I love you mam! I'll be home in a few weeks, give me love to Gran!" I say waving at the camera before hanging up.

Chris's shoulders drop and he falls back on the bed.

"See, she's not scary!" I say to him as I fall back into his arms. He cuddles closer into me, his warmth emanating and comforting me. Feeling safe and loved is unusual, but God does this boy feel like home.

A/N- thanks for all the love on this story! I really appreciate it!

[sullustangin]

The Potential of Death

Words: ~1800

Time: 3625 BBY/28 ATC

Rating: T, pushing toward M for some implications and heavy concepts

CW:  Character with risky pregnancy; coping father

A/N:  This is domestic angsty fluff with a happy ending.  It’s a sequel to The Death of Potential

~~

Theron indulged himself by staring at Eva as she peered out the cab window.  His eyes drifted over all the things he had loved about her from the very second he first saw her: her features, but also that fiery determination and defined sense of ‘right.’  He lingered on the lines she’d acquired and even the stray silver hair that had wandered into her dark hair (she’d pluck it once she noticed it, so he tried not to give away its presence).  

Then Theron’s eyes settled on the latest change in her.  The one he’d caused.

It wasn’t planned.  He hadn’t wanted it to happen, abstractly.

Concretely – in reality -- it felt amazing.

Theron moved over in the seat slightly, as close as his seatbelt would allow him. He stretched his arm across the top of the seat to rest his hand on her far shoulder.  Eva turned to look at him and smiled.  “You sure you’re ok with this?”

“Said I was.”  And he was.  She was irresistible – both due to his love for her and the massive amounts of oxytocin streaming off her.  Theron couldn’t refuse her anything; he could barely keep a constant protective hand off her (and he was failing at that currently).  

The small swell just below her navel had grown to a bump that could not be hidden by stealing Risha’s pants or by wearing heavy flak jackets anymore.  He never thought that would make him feel so happy.  Granted, he was running off his experience as the unplanned child… but this one was wanted.  Very, very wanted.

The books referred to all this as “nesting” behavior, maternal and paternal.  Specifically on the maternal end, Eva had gotten it into her head that the child needed an alternative residence. Besides Odessen. Besides Virtue’s Thief. All of those places were already set up. But she wanted something closer to civilization, stationary, and not too far from the secured research hospital she’d chosen with Dr. Oggurobb’s consultation.

So she wanted a place on Coruscant.  They’d seen a few places that were on the market, but nothing really stuck out to Theron. What Eva wanted, she could have; it was her fortune anyway.  He had never had a strong opinion about his living space to this point, and he did not have enough possessions to populate multiple residences.  

A sign caught Theron’s eye as the speeder cab turned at the corner.  A sensation ran up the back of his neck, making the hair there stand on end, as if something had caressed it unexpectedly.  His body tensed.

Eva noticed.  “Something wrong?”

Still transfixed on the scenes passing before the cab windows, Theron answered her, “No.  I… know the neighborhood.”

She silently nodded.  

The cab came to a halt, and they exited out opposite sides.  

He was peripherally aware of Eva paying the cabbie as he stared upward at the familiar, seemingly never-ending high-rise.

His heart was beating a little faster as they climbed higher into sky on the lift.  “How? When?”

Eva pressed her lips together and watched the floor numbers tick upward.   “You know how Risha had automated my investments and financial affairs before she left the ship?”

“Yeah.”

“Part of that was a real estate portfolio – buying properties, retaining useful ones, reselling others for quick cash.  The automated search agent found … certain modifications appealing… but some of those renovations put off other buyers… so it’s been sitting around.”

As they stepped off the lift and walked down the hallway, Theron asked her,  “When did you find out?”

“That I had it?”  A little sigh and reluctance emerged.  “After Umbara.  We were trying to figure out where you would go – where you could go… and I impulsively checked – only to find out you’d sold it when you left the Pub –”

“And you’d bought it.” Theron stopped in the middle of the hallway, just below the skylight.  The site of a friend’s last stand.  He didn’t say anything else as he crossed his arms and bowed his head, mind recalibrating.

Eva waited at the doorway, leaning back against the wall slightly.  

Finally, Theron let out a huff of air and strode toward the door.  Eva handed him the passcard as he lumbered by, and into the lock it went and in went Theron –

Into his apartment.  

The one he’d sort of lived in for ten years.

The place where potential had died, a thousand alternative universes slain when he had left for forever.

Or so he thought.

“Never thought extra security would put people off,” he commented glibly as he walked toward the holocomm in the middle of the living room, where it always had been.

“They probably wondered what you did to need all that monitoring and lockdown stuff,” Eva teased him as she walked through the door.

Theron watched her as she did that for the first time.  She’d always stayed on the balcony before…. except when he was dreaming.  He felt something, deep inside…as if …

“My question is, why do you have panic rooms for at least ten people here?”

Theron turned away, breaking the spell.  “What if I had a party here and someone attacked?”

“Was there ever an attack?”

“No.”

“….was there ever a party?”

“…no, but I wanted to be prepared…”  Theron shifted topics as he ran a hand over the holocom controls.  “It’s clean for being unoccupied for eight years,” Theron noted as he began his walkthrough.  

The milquetoast decorations were gone.  There wasn’t anything placed for the sole purpose of filling up empty space. Rather, the spaces seemed to eagerly await being altered by the new residents.  It was emptier and yet it felt … fuller.  More alive, he considered.  

New furniture was in. Theron figured too many nights eating and sleeping on the old stuff had done them in.  He let his hand glide over the back of a couch:  easy to clean but vibrant microfiber upholstery.  Wood trimmings, and not the synthesized stuff. Someone personally had a hand in this…

The kitchen was as immaculate as ever, but now there was more than one assembled bar stool at the counter.  

Theron followed the afternoon sun to the -- his bedroom.  The massive window was crafted so that he could see out, if he wanted, but no one could see in.  All the windows in his apartment were like that; he’d made sure.  

The carpet had been replaced.  The generic paint job through the apartment had also been redone – something more personally chosen, not just “Generic Off-White #4.  The mattress was new, he determined, pressing at the edge of it and inspecting its comforter and sheets…

Theron realized that Eva hadn’t said much since she’d walked in.  She trailed along behind him, almost expectantly…

Theron looked out at the cityscape, watching a few speeders go by, unaware of the people within the high-rise apartment.  

He never thought he’d be here again.  He rubbed at the back of his neck as ghosts of old feelings were summoned and dissipated. Eva’s dark eyes were on him, and he felt that slight, not burdensome weight.

She broke the silence. “It’s…. in a good school district.”

Theron laughed, softly, not looking at her yet.  “Do you like it?” he asked. “Beyond the school district?”

He looked over at her when she didn’t answer right away.  Her gaze wasn’t piercing.  No, her eyes were soft, contemplating him with the same rapt, vulnerable expression as when seeing their son on the medical monitors for the first time.

(he still had an internal stutter, a stall caused by an overload of emotion – their son)

“It’s more important what you think.  How you feel about this place.”  Eva shrugged before letting her hands drop down, one to her side and the other down to her belly, an unconscious action she’d developed over the last few weeks.

“Didn’t do much living here last time.”  That was true. “…the place always had potential, though.”  Then, Theron considered her in all this.  “You ever wanted in?  Here?”

Eva had been caught, and she knew it.  “Turned out to be the hardest place in town to get a drink,” she said with a slightly sad smile.

Of course, she liked it. She wouldn’t have had the place cleaned and the furnishings installed if she didn’t.  

Theron watched her, carefully.  “Maybe we should… move on.  We’ve changed since … then.”

Eva crossed her arms. “Fair enough.”

Oh, she really liked it.  

“Then again…”  Theron strolled up to her.  “Not a lot of people have a chance at having a do-over.  Going back to the same place and correcting…what didn’t happen.”

Eva leaned her head on her shoulder, even as she gazed up at him.  “But we’re not going back.  We’re… hopefully not on the same trajectory we were the last time you were here.”  There was a tease in there, but also something more serious. “This is the sort of place that could give us artificial euphoria for a little while… and then we realize we’re already past it all.”

Theron mmhmm’ed, just as he twined his fingers into her hair, thicker and glossier than usual.  “Or… we could hang onto it just long enough to see if it does have any potential – long-term, for us … and just sell it off if the luster wears off.  You already bought it.”  

“True enough,” Eva said simply, as she let Theron’s careful hand adjust the angle of her head.  “And, you know, having saved the galaxy more times than the public will ever know – of all people, I don’t think it’d be a sin to use this place just for its luster…”

Theron immediately understood her meaning and agreed.

It was later, as she tread on the carpet on the far side of his bed and then through the path of the late afternoon sun, that Theron had realized he had survived to see the future.

Or, rather, at least the potential of it.  If…

With each footstep, as he leaned back against the headboard, he remembered each professional comment, each caution, each ‘durasteel your heart’ moment the experts had tried to instill.

There had never been a live birth from a mother who had spent extensive time in carbonite.

Theron had found a new war of attachment: now he had to be close enough to rejoice and celebrate and prepare… and far enough to catch her when she fell.

Eva was, as ever, indomitable.  She wanted her life on her terms, with no compromise.  Even if it was a happy accident.

Even if it broke her heart.

Despite his war, Theron still believed in the future.  Dusk rapidly approached, but dawn would come.  Perhaps it would be overcast.  

As Eva moved through the last rays of sun on Coruscant, Theron decided that there was equal potential for a bright new day.

They would see how it went.  Either way.

**

They kept the apartment.

The excess panic rooms were converted, once the capacity of the apartment reached four.

The school district was, indeed, very good.

The apartment had still potential to grow after all, as did its original occupant.

[orchidyoonkook]

Fruit asks!!

🍉,🍋,🍈, &🍇

Eeeee! Hi Violet. I love you!

🍉: Do you prefer to write short fics or long fics? Multichaptered works or single ones? Why?

Long cuz I don’t know how to shut up and I like to include useless details.

Multi chaptered cuz it creates suspense and drama! And I’m a dramatic ass bitch.

🍋: What's your favorite spicier trope to write?

I haven’t really written spice yet. The ones I have written are used more as plot devices rather than gratuitous. It’ll probably end up being something dom/subby or maybe body worship?

I read somewhere that a lot of (heterosexual) sex is making the girl feel desired and loved and that makes it great for the (heterosexual) man. And I happen to agree with that. I am also paraphrasing that horribly.

🍈: Who's your blorbo and what are some of your favorite headcanons/ideas about them that repeatedly show up in your fics? Free pass to rant about blorbo opinions.

Please feel free to mock but I had to google what a blorbo was as I strictly avoided tumblr until august last year (don’t ask me why I have no idea)

From what google says they’re just characters or celebs I adore and boy are there a lot of them.

Kpop (not in my fics cuz I have so few rn, so I’ll just say my faves to read):

Always either Yoongi as the big bad (grumpy mean) secret softie.

JK in anything where he’s a big powerful man (like CEO etc) who’s hellbent on being the best lay Reader will ever have but then letting only her be the first to soft dom him?

or Joon just being very big and very dominant.

Chan, Felix, San, Jisung, Hyunjin, Hongjoon, the list goes on….

Non Kpop: aha.. ya girlies a YA/ Adult fantasy reader and movie/tv NERD. So to keep the list short:

Rhys, Cassian, Hunt, Cardan, Ruhn, Dorian, Maxon, Thorne, (there’s more here but it’s late I can’t remember them all), Sebastian Stan, actually, far too many men who are in their 40s -> Chris Evans, Hyun Bin, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Shemar Moore, Matthew Gray Gubler, Tom Hiddleston, Eric Dane, Tom Ellis, Ewan McGregor, Charlie Hunnam.. please know that teenage me had MANY phases and all of these men were apart of them in one way or another.

🍇: Is there a particular scene/episode/book/ etc that you want to just write a million fics about, over and over? Which one?

BTS obvi, there was a time in my life where I considered doing it for the Cinder series. Maybe Chan from stray kids? Or something Sarah J Maas related. Just comfort characters and people really.

I don’t really obsess over writing, which why my bio says what it does. But maybe just making up endless scenarios in my head is a better way of putting it. I only ever write when I’m inspired which is why I don’t do it professionally.

[shippingfangirl013]

hiiii, how are you?💕

for the fic ask: 8-12-27-48-50-76

Hi! I’m good! Just working through writers block and Vet School interviews for the time being! Thank you for asking 💕

8. Post an out of context spoiler from a WIP. So this is from my Modern College AU fic that was kind of inspired by another fic (FOG), my most recent Gilmore Girls re-watch, and Taylor Swift’s Midnights album.

12. Do you outline your fics? If yes, how detailed are the outlines? How far do you stray from them?

So, it depends on the fic. Usually I’ll have an idea that I want to write about, sometimes song lyrics help me out, other times, it’s more so history inspired, and even then I might end up with some works that are mildly canon divergent depending on what I want to write about. Then, I end up outlining. So far, two of my longer chaptered fics have outlines of where I want them to go, one is canon compliant, the other is the college fic I mentioned. They’re pretty detailed in terms of how I want some scenes to play out, but if I have to change it and kind of Frankenstein the outline to get to a reading flow that makes more sense, I’m not afraid to do that. The scenes I tend to have in depth in the outline are the angst scenes, where there’s arguing, fighting, injuries, sad experiences (like crying scenes), and near death experiences. I tend to keep in line with the outlines, unless I think of something that I like for the plot better. One of my fanfics that I wrote in 2016 had a major character death, and I’ve decided that I don’t always enjoy writing those. I have a few newer ones with character death, but as of right now, they’re only the historical based fics.

27. What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

Description of a background setting for sure, but I feel pretty confident with dialogue and internal struggles that the characters are having, too. Sometimes I feel like my writing isn’t great, and that occasionally stops me from publishing fics, but I might start having beta readers for a few fics that I’m working on.

48. Who is your favorite character to write for? How has this changed since you’ve started writing for that fandom?

Will Byers hands down. I love writing from Will’s perspective, because there’s such a range to his character that we see on screen, but I want someone to allow him to actually get angry for once. He’s good at hiding his true emotions at times, and it’s fun for me to try and work different angles from his perspective. He doesn’t think he’s the heart of the party, but Will is the person that keeps the Party together and united. Mike is also the hearts, but in the sense that he’s able to inspire others (when he’s not plagiarizing others speeches.) I think I enjoy writing from Will’s perspective so much, because I feel like my personality is similar to his character in a lot of ways. Will is always going to do the selfless thing even when he wants to be selfish. I’m also similar to Mike and Nancy, and I think, being able to see why they might react the way that they are throughout the seasons, and trying to better understand them as characters, has definitely helped me in my writing.

50. How would you describe your writing style?

Aside from very ADHD —> if I don’t set deadlines I don’t get it done…? Umm…

I tend to write fics in a more informal manner, but if its one of my original books, there’s more of a formal tone about it. I’m just glad I don’t have to write fanfics in Chicago style or the way we write (and cite) biology papers.

76. How do you deal with writing pressure, whether internal or external?

When I’m told to write for an assignment or a project, I will 100% procrastinate almost up until the last minute. It’s bad. Sometimes, I’ll make an outline, and gather quotes that I want to use, so I’m a little more prepared. But if there is external pressure or deadlines for me to submit something, it sometimes kicks in 2 days before the assignment or draft is due, and then I write the best paper I’ve ever written. I wrote a solid 10 pages of a History term paper off of a rough outline and a compilation of quotes that backed my argument. 4 hours later, I had 10 pages on Medieval Queens and how they contributed to warfare during the Crusader era. Basically if I’m asked to write, I’ll do it, but it can be a bit tricky to get commit to getting it done.

As for internal pressure, if I’m feeling upset or there’s something I need to get off of my chest, it usually comes up in a vent fic. I kind of write when I want to between school and work.

Thank you so much for the ask @rebellius! I was so excited when I saw that I had one! 💛

[scorpioaqua]

bbrae week 2022 | day four | breaking up/making up/secrets

title: crash rating: T/Teen and Up word count: 2,729 ao3 | ffn

SUMMARY:  "'You ruined my date,' Raven barks at him, defeat gradually overtaking her anger. 'A date,' Gar murmurs thoughtfully, then shrugs. 'I didn't know it was a date.'" 

           “Maybe this was a mistake,” Raven’s date says to her, looking down at his burger with disdain. She lifts her gaze at this, perhaps a bit too hopefully. Dating is not her scene. She’s tried it a few times, even getting as far as the fifth date with one contender, but in the end they all left her disinterested. Noah, the charmingly nerdy literature student she bumped into at the bookstore, is – unfortunately – no exception. While the date started off well enough, with the two of them perusing a local art gallery and discussing their latest reads, Raven hasn’t felt any notable chemistry. Any chance of him echoing her sentiments and cutting the date short is a win in her book. But then he prods at the burger bun and glances over at her with amusement, and she realizes that he’s only talking about the food. She hides her deflation with a well-placed polite smile.

           “No, you know what they say about nondescript diner beef,” Raven says, examining her own order: a coffee and a simple side of french fries. “It’s the best. World-renowned.”

           “Whose world?” her date quips, and she can’t help a genuine smile at that one. It’s not that Noah is a bad guy. He’s perfectly adequate. And nice. Too nice, even. Too human. Too normal.

           He’d absolutely cave the first time he saw her soul-self or a stray demon, and, taking chances as she is – learning to love and baring her soul and all that crap – Raven doesn’t have time for the weak. If she’s doing this, she needs someone who can handle her. All of her. Someone who is more intimately acquainted with dark magic, or at least with superheroes. Someone who can take her outbursts in stride and read her body language to know when she needs time alone. Someone more like–

           “Shit.” Raven’s eyes widen slightly as she takes in the green face smiling back at her from the diner’s front window.

           Noah follows her gaze. “What?” he asks.

           Standing on the sidewalk, using one hand to unsuccessfully shield himself from the rainfall, is Beast Boy. He’s waving, waiting for Raven to return the gesture. Confusion painting her features, Raven raises one hand and obliges.

           “That’s my teammate. On the Titans,” Raven begins explaining to Noah. “He’s–”

           “Beast Boy,” Noah finishes, and Raven turns to see him nodding knowingly. When she quirks an eyebrow, he blushes faintly. “I, uh…I didn’t want to sound like a superfan when I asked you out or anything, but I know a fair amount about the team.”

           “Oh?” Raven says. “Then you know he’s kind of a pain in the ass. Excuse m–”

           But as she turns to assess the situation, she sees that Beast Boy isn’t on the sidewalk anymore. He’s made his way to the front door of the diner, and as he pokes his head through the door, the bell hanging overhead announces his arrival with a soft Ding! 

           Raven sighs. “Dammit.”

           “Sit anywhere you like, hon,” a raspy-voiced waitress calls to Beast Boy.

           “I choose this one,” he says cheerily, pointing at Raven and Noah as he approaches their table.

           “What?” Raven demands testily, then schools herself. She doesn’t have plans of calling Noah back after this – at least not beyond delivering the obligatory “You’re really nice, but…” speech – but that doesn’t mean she has to embarrass herself in front of him, either. “Beast Boy, I am kind of in the middle of something here,” she says, just as the changeling begins insinuating himself into her side of the booth.

           “It’s fine, really,” Noah says amicably, waving at the new addition. “I’m Noah. Really great to meet you. I’m quite a fan.”

           “Thanks, dude!” Beast Boy replies, beaming. He turns to Raven, glancing down at her combination of a sweater and jeans, and she’s suddenly very self-conscious. “You look nice, Rae,” he offers, then reaches out to steal one of her fries as if rewarding himself for remembering to compliment her.

           “She does,” Noah agrees, and he has no way of knowing that the blush creeping up her face now would have been there regardless of his interjection.

           “You’re…also not in your uniform,” Raven notes, taking in Gar’s civilian clothes – typical autumn fare, like her own, except that his are slightly damp with rainwater.

           “Yeah,” Beast Boy says, pawing at his shirt. “I hit the used video game shop but they didn’t have anything new in since last week. Could’ve used one of your creepy demon umbrellas to keep me from getting all drenched, Raven.” 

           “Or you could have just remembered to bring your own umbrella,” Raven retorts.

           “Who needs to do that when I’ve got a friend like you?” Gar says, batting his eyes at her like an adoring lover. She shoves the thought out of her mind.

           “Except I wasn’t out there with you, so common sense dictates–”

           “Oh, that again!” Gar scoffs, snatching a few more fries from her plate. He turns to Noah, who has been silently prodding at his burger, and explains, “She’s big on wanting me to use common sense. It’s like, who even decided the rules of common sense? I’d like to talk to that guy. Usually when Raven says ‘common sense’ it means ‘no more fun’.”

           Noah gives a tight-lipped, awkward smile, and for as much time as she’s spent wishing the date would wrap up this evening, Raven can’t help but feel guilty.

           “Beast Boy,” she says sharply, catching him by the wrist as he reaches for another fry, “Noah and I are having dinner alone right now. Can your antics wait until I get back to the tower, at least?”

           Beast Boy’s brows raise, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “I think that’s maybe the first time you’ve asked me to reschedule my bullshit instead of threatening to dump me in some random dimension.” He turns back to Noah. “Which is a thing she can do, by the way.”

           Noah chuckles nervously. Raven feels the pressure in her temple building.

           At this moment, the waitress approaches, pen in hand. “What can I get for you?” she asks Beast Boy robotically, and he considers for a moment.

           “Nothing,” Raven answers for him. “He was actually just leaving, but thank you.”

           Beast Boy tsks at her. “Raven, don’t you know it’s rude to order for your date?” he says, leaning across her to snatch a menu from behind the napkin holder. Raven intercepts his grab, sending the menu sailing across the restaurant with a wave of energy.

           “You are not my date,” she snarls at him through clenched teeth. “Noah is my date,” she gestures at the young man across the table, who appears as uncomfortable as if he were in a proctologist’s waiting room, “and you are intruding.”

           Gar blinks a couple times, then sighs, his shoulders slumping. “You’re right, Rae,” he says with chagrin. “I’m sorry. I’ll…take my order to go.” She doesn’t miss the mischievous lilt to his voice.

           For all her attempts at composure, Raven can’t resist slamming her fist on the table. The dishes and silverware spread atop it skitter at the disruption, and Raven shakes off the coffee that has sloshed onto her sleeve as she snaps, “You’re not ordering any food! Go home!”

           The waitress, whose disinterested demeanor reveals that she would rather be anywhere else, pauses her idle scribbling on her notepad to ask, “So...nothing else, then?”

           “I think I’m up for a coffee myself, actually,” Gar says, his eyes never leaving Raven. “It’s chilly out there. Need to warm myself up before I hit the road.”

           “One coffee–” the waitress begins.

           “No,” Raven interjects. She telepathically confiscates the waitress’ pen, not noticing the brief glint of terror on Noah’s features; her eyes are trained exclusively on Beast Boy. “You are ruining my evening. Go home. I will not ask you again.”

           “I’m gonna go for a smoke,” the waitress says noncommittally, as Beast Boy leans in to Raven, murmuring, “Yeah, ‘cause you were having so much fun before, right?”

           Raven’s eyes glow with power, the light fixtures above her wavering threateningly. “I am going to–”

           “You know,” comes Noah’s meek voice from across the table, “it’s really all right. I’ve got an early day tomorrow anyway and should probably call it a night.” He chuckles nervously as he struggles to extricate himself from the booth. “Let me just, ah…” He begins patting down his pockets hurriedly.

           “No problemo, champ,” Gar says, removing a wad of cash from his pocket and waving it tauntingly. “I got this one.” He winks. “She’s kind of an expensive date, right?”

��          “Heh heh,” Noah manages, adjusting his glasses. “Well, uh…” He turns to Raven as if to bid her goodnight, but her eyes are closed, her fingers massaging her temples methodically.

           “Just go,” she says dismissively, and Noah obliges, his exit enabling a gust of autumn wind to sweep into the nearly-empty diner. After the bell above the door has ceased its rattling, Raven opens her eyes, turning a venomous glare onto Beast Boy. “You’re an asshole,” she spits at him.

           Beast Boy, who has stolen her coffee in the interim, looks skyward in apparent contemplation, tapping his fingers idly on the mug. “Mmm...surprisingly, not the first time I’ve heard that,” he tells her before taking a sip.

           Raven clenches her jaw. “What is your fucking problem?” she demands.

           “I don’t have a problem,” Gar says, watching her in mock incredulity. “You, on the other hand…can demons take Xanax?”

           “You ruined my date,” Raven barks at him, defeat gradually overtaking her anger.

           “A date?” Gar murmurs thoughtfully, then shrugs. “I didn’t know it was a date.”

           “Like hell you didn’t! You expect me to believe you were just in the neighborhood at the exact time and locale of my date tonight?” She pauses, taking in his slouched frame. “And by the way, that store you said you went to is miles away, so try again.”

           Gar sighs, turning slightly to angle his body towards Raven. “Come on, Rae. You didn’t even like that guy.”

           “How do you know?” Raven hisses, stealing her coffee mug back from where he’s left it unattended on the table. “Maybe I did like him. Maybe I really liked him. Maybe he was my soulmate and now I’ll never know because you made me look like an idiot!”

           “Your soulmate?” Gar drawls, giving her a pointed look.

           Raven blushes, staring down into the now-cold coffee in her hands. “It’s a figure of speech, you imbecile.”

           “No, it’s a real thing, and that guy was not it,” Gar replies evenly. “And if you weren’t so stubborn, maybe you’d realize that sooner.”

           Raven takes a deep breath, shoving her coffee away in disgust. “What do you want, Garfield?”

           He surprises her by softening his gaze. “A chance,” he says, and when she recoils slightly, “or at least an explanation.”

           “There’s nothing to explain.”

           “Raven,” Gar says with exasperation. “Why are you doing this?”

           “Doing what?” she demands.

           He leans in close again, refusing to release her gaze. “Pretending you don’t want me, too.”

           Raven freezes, afraid to move with his face so close to hers. She looks involuntarily to his lips, then away. “I am not pretending anything,” she insists.

           “That’s a lie,” Gar says, in a surprisingly pleasant tone. “We both know it. I’m not the smartest guy in the world, Rae, but I haven’t been imagining this feeling between us.”

           “What feeling?” Raven demands, finding she has shifted closer inadvertently.

           “The one that made you stare, smiling, like a lovesick fool at me through the window for like, a full five seconds before it clicked that I was there,” Gar says with a smirk. “And, yeah, it hurt that when I asked you out, you told me you ‘just weren’t looking’ for a relationship, only to find out you’re out here dating around, but hey.” He cups her chin gently. “I’ll crash as many bad dates as you want me to. Just say the word.”

           It takes every ounce of strength in Raven’s body to remove his hand from her face, but she does, spiriting past him out of the booth before she can change her mind. “You’re deluding yourself,” she says, unsure whether she’s directing this towards the changeling or herself. She pauses at the door, turning to ghost some of Beast Boy’s money to the table to pay the bill, then steps out into the cold night.

           He’s, naturally, right on her tail. They pass the waitress from earlier, a long cigarette dangling from her mouth as she shelters under the restaurant’s awning. She doesn’t look up as they pass, nor as Gar grabs for Raven’s hand and bids her to stop.

           “This doesn’t have to be hard, Raven,” he pleads, pulling her beneath the awning. “Look, I–I know it was immature of me to come here tonight. Really, I do.” Raven rolls her eyes at this, leaning back against the building with her arms folded tightly. “But I couldn’t stomach the idea of you with some other guy,” Gar continues. “If I thought you didn’t feel the same way, I’d have tucked my tail between my legs and gone home. But I…Raven, if I was wrong about this whole thing – if you really, actually, never in a million years would want to be with me – then I’ll drop it. Forever, okay? I promise.” He is standing directly in front of her now, rain droplets hanging from his nose and eyelashes, green eyes darkening slightly. He leans in to deliver, in a whisper, the words, “But I don’t think you can tell me that.”

           Raven’s breath catches in her throat, and she is undeniably watching his lips now, transfixed. She swallows once, unsure if her voice will do her bidding. “It would jeopardize our job. Our family,” she says finally, their other teammates flashing before her mind’s eye. “If something went wrong–”

           “We won’t let it,” Gar says insistently, holding her face again. “We’ve fought bigger baddies than this. I think we can handle it.”

           “No, this–” Raven reaches up to hold his wrist, but doesn’t remove his hand again. “This is my biggest baddie.”

           And she doesn’t have to elaborate. He knows – Azar, she loves how he sometimes just knows – that she means love. Letting him in. Opening the floodgates to a world of emotion she has very little experience navigating. The overwhelming fear that it might all be for nothing – that she could let him consume her and one day he could wake up and not want her anymore, and as earth-shattering as that would be by itself, there could be implications for her future as a Titan, her future with her chosen family, and it’s the scariest thought she’s ever had.

           Gar nods, stroking her face with his thumb. “I’ll be in your corner the whole time,” he assures her in a hushed tone. “I’m not going anywhere, Rae. And I know all I can give you is my word – and the love I know you can feel from me – so it’s your choice, Raven. Are you done playing it safe here? Do you want to take a chance?” He shrugs weakly. “Or not?”

           His presence, this close to her face, is more intoxicating than anything she’s ever known. She knows he can tell, with his heightened senses, how shaky her breath is, how erratic her heartbeat. She slides her hand down his arm to rest at the back of his neck, pulling him forward to rest their foreheads against one another.

           “No one can know,” she tells him. “Not yet.”

           His mouth erupts into a toothy grin, his other hand lifting to match the one cradling her face. “Okay,” he agrees, and then she can’t wait anymore, and his lips are on hers, her entire frame radiating with passion and desire and love so disorienting that she can’t tell which emotions are hers and which are his.

           The entwined pair are startled by a smoker’s cough, and their heads snap over to find the waitress from the diner stubbing out her cigarette, smiling at them faintly through a haze of smoke. “Your secret’s safe with me,” she says with a wink before heading back inside, and Gar silences Raven’s growing protest with another kiss.

[wonkyreads]

Evergreen by Devil Greenlee

2.5 magical blooms out of 5

Evergreen is only in the loosest sense a reimagining of The Secret Garden, which was the main point of interest for me personally going into it, but at this point I take most comps with a grain of salt anyway. (This book is also a lesson in not judging based solely off of covers because for some reason I went into this thinking it was sapphic??)

Honestly, though, Evergreen is an urban fantasy coming of age story that leans heavily into a romance between Quill, the first male druid and a bit of a Rapunzel character, and Liam, the boy next door. Quill is tasked with taking care of his family’s magical garden while he struggles to come to terms with the fact that he’s 17 and hasn’t shown any magical capabilities of his own.

Quill is stubborn and selfish, sarcastic and incredibly bitter, yet so fully naive at times. I tend to really enjoy unlikable narrators and he definitely fits the bill, though I can’t tell if it was intentional or not. For most of the book the fact that Quill was just a teenager who made stupid or silly decisions felt like a nice change, but there’s a point where you expect the main character to grow. With Quill that switch comes late and sudden when I’d have thoroughly enjoyed a slow build. Outside of that he was sometimes very inconsistent with his narration in a way that doesn’t feel intentional. Something about him stumbling his way through the human world was just so fun to read, though what he knew and didn’t know felt like this part of his character could have benefited from being a little more thought out.

There were also times when the information he was conveying was inconsistent as well. He’d wax poetic about how he knew every inch of the garden in one chapter, then the next introduce a room he’s never been allowed inside of, then the next reveal that he hardly ever strayed past the front of the garden actually, and a few chapters later complain that he’d walked every inch of it a hundred times over the years. That inconsistency existed in other areas of the writing too, creating plot holes and convenient excuses that were difficult to ignore. I found myself fact checking (tap water does have chlorine in it more often than not and like 90% of gummy worms aren’t vegan) and constantly flipping back and forth to make sure that I wasn’t actually crazy and that there were direct contradictions happening.

That said, getting to read a story based around a family of dryads was interesting and the fantasy elements built into the world were very soft and generally fun and easy to understand. I think the soft world building was the most developed part of the story and allowed for moments that genuinely shone in my opinion. It stayed consistent in ways the other parts of the writing just didn’t.

Honestly, this book just needed another round or two of edits and some more in-depth development. The idea is solid and there are parts that made me want to like the whole book far more than I did. For instance, the ‘big bad’ and the last quarter of the book? Imagining someone just walking into town and finding that situation? Fantastic creeping horror idea. It’s going to haunt me, genuinely. (I’m trying to avoid spoilers so bad, guys.)

There are scenes that shine and the bones to a really great story, but in the end there just wasn’t enough development. I think Greenlee could do some really cool things in the future, this debut was just a little too rushed. It would have benefited from some more eyes on it and another draft, but he’s an author I’ll be keeping an eye on for sure.

[I voluntarily read and reviewed an advanced copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own. Huge thanks to NetGalley and Entangled Publishing for this ARC.]