#tor chapter 1 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peachy-panic · 3 months

Text

Wrong Place, Wrong Time (pt. 1)

DO NO HARM.

Whew. After months (almost a year?) of marinating this chapter, I've decided to cut it in two. Thought about titling this chapter: Shit Hits The Fan. Enjoy!

WARNINGS: BBU setting, struggles with bodily autonomy, recovering alcoholic, mentions of violence

Jaime hits the ground with more force than he expects. His back takes the brunt of the fall, and for a moment, he is rendered breathless. A few weeks ago, the impact might have triggered a memory of real violence. Now, he gulps in a few deep breaths, feeling the grass at his back, until Ezra’s face eclipses the sunlight overhead.

“That was better,” Ezra says, extending a hand. Jaime takes it and lets himself be pulled to his feet.

“I can’t seem to stay on my feet,” Jaime huffs, frustrated. He swipes an arm across his face, pushing aside the hair that clings to his forehead.

“You’re doing fine,” Ezra says. “Getting knocked down is half the process of learning.”

Jaime grimaces. “I must be learning a lot, then.”

Ezra grins. “You are,” he says, sounding like he might actually mean it. “You’ve already improved from where we began. For now, take five and drink some water.”

“I can go again,” Jaime insists, already rocking back into his sparring stance.

“We have all day.” Ezra grabs Jaime’s water bottle and pushes it gently against his chest. “You’ll burn out quickly if you don’t pace yourself.”

At the finality in his tone, Jaime relents and collapses back onto the grass. He downs half his bottle in one go.

It’s been over a month since Ezra offered to teach Jaime how to spar. At first, the idea unsettled him in a way he couldn’t pin down. He didn’t understand the point of it. Ezra knew more than most how little Jaime’s ability to fight mattered; it isn’t an imbalance in physical strength that keeps him in his position. It is the law, the society, and the institutions decades in the making that hold the end of Jaime’s leash. Something about learning the art of self defense and knowing he is never allowed to exercise it feels more cruel than not learning at all.

One session, Ezra had wagered. Train with me once and see how you feel.

The first time, Sebastian stayed to observe at Jaime’s request, perched on a piece of exercise equipment in Ezra’s basement gym. Jaime, who spent the week leading up antsy and nervous, watched with rapt interest as Ezra wrapped his hands.

They started slow.

The first time Jaime hit the ground, the room went silent. In the split second of shock and pain, a flare of violent memories flashed before him: a handler shoving him onto his back, his foster father slamming him up against the hallway wall. Distantly, he heard Sebastian’s voice break through the budding panic. “Maybe we should call it a day?”

Something about that—the grounding reminder of where he was, who he was with, and that the choice was his to walk away—snapped him back into his body. Ezra watched him from where he stood several feet back, not coming to his side and not saying anything in response to Sebastian’s concern. Instead, he watched Jaime, waiting to see what choice he would make.

The choice was his.

Jaime pushed himself onto shaking legs, nodding once to Sebastian before meeting Ezra’s unwavering gaze. “Let’s go again.”

Ever since that day, Jaime has taken to training with a level of enthusiasm he didn’t realize he was still capable of feeling. There is an itch for it under his skin when he wakes up some mornings. When he stretches, he relishes in the way his muscles burn from their previous session. On his morning runs, he thinks through new techniques Ezra showed him and commits to perfecting them next time they meet.

On the evening after their third sparring session—Jaime still sweat-damp and shaking from exhaustion in the passenger seat of Sebastian’s car—he realized that this feeling was familiar. It was a sense of liberation he hadn’t felt since he last sprinted across a soccer field under the stadium lights, since the night he tore off across the backyard of a party with Derek at his side, high on the revelation that he might want to kiss him. It was the realization that training with Ezra made Jaime feel in control of his body for the first time in a long time. And that is a gift he can never repay.

Ezra sinks down onto the grass beside him, uncapping his own water bottle. It’s almost embarrassing how he barely breaks a sweat against Jaime. Maybe one day he’ll give him a run for his money.

From the screened window above the kitchen sink, Jaime can hear laughter from inside the house. He titled his head and smelled… something? Sebastian and the others insisted they would take care of dinner tonight and leave Jaime and Ezra to their workout. Jaime doesn’t know much about Sam and Aria’s skills in the kitchen, but…

Ezra smiles at him, nodding his head toward the sound. “How do you think it’s going in there?”

Jaime shrugs and lets his head fall back, enjoying the sun on his face. Spring is starting to blossom, slowly but surely, and it’s the first warm day of the year. “Nothing is on fire,” he says. “So it can’t be that bad.”

****

“Cilantro can substitute oregano, right? They’re basically the same thing?”

“No,” Sebastian and Aria say at the same time. Sam’s expression falls. The frown paired with the 1950s-housewife-style apron creates quite the endearing image.

“It’s not too late to order Thai food,” Aria mutters, pouring herself another glass of wine. Sebastian chuckles around a swig of lemonade.

He didn’t make a big deal about staying sober these last few weeks, but he’s pretty sure Aria clocked it anyway, judging by the way she has kept the bottle out of arm’s reach of him all evening. He pretends not to notice. She pretends not to notice him not noticing.

It’s been a good day.

He can tell Jaime tried to hide his enthusiasm about a return visit all week. He never asks him about it outright, but his demeanor visibly perks up at any passing mention of Saturday dinner at Sam and Ezra’s. Sebastian offered to take him over there before work on any given weekday so that Jaime didn’t have to spend the day alone in the house, but that’s where his enthusiasm waned. Jaime isn’t quite comfortable enough to be alone with anyone except Sebastian, but Ezra comes close, he thinks.

It’s good. It’s so good to see Jaime like this—surrounded by people who care about his well-being, expressing more autonomy than he has ever been allowed in Sebastian’s presence. It’s moments like this that tempt Sebastian into believing that it was worth it, slogging all these months through the misery of WRU, just to bring him to Jaime. To bring Jaime here.

And maybe it was worth it so Sebastian could meet the others, too; his first friends in a very long time.

They are laughing when the front door opens, so none of them hear the unexpected entrance until Julian Hernandez is suddenly standing in the doorway.

The room goes silent. Sebastian nearly shatters the glass in his hand to keep it from slipping to the floor.

“You need to leave,” Sebastian says, the panic overriding any facade of politeness.

Julian, who is skeptical of Sebastian on his best day, says, “Excuse me?”

“Shit,” Aria says, stepping up beside him. “Jules, he’s right.”

Julian looks around, taking in the sight of all of his friends there without him, and Sebastian thinks he sees a quickly masked flash of hurt pass through his expression. “You asked me to take a look at your transmission last week,” he tells Sam. “I brought my tools.”

“I did say that,” Sam says. “But I didn’t mean tonight. I’m sorry. This… isn’t a good time.”

His mouth presses into a thin line. He glances over at Aria. “Yeah,” Julian says. “I can see you’re busy.”

“It’s not like that, Jules.” Aria insists. “Tate’s—” she starts to say. But it’s too late. It’s too fucking late.

Because then the back door slides open and Jaime steps through, trailed by Ezra. They’re mid conversation, murmuring quietly. Both of their shirts are soaked through with sweat, clumps of hair clinging to their foreheads. Jaime is smiling—honest-to-god smiling—and Ezra is laughing at something he said, until his eyes meet Julian’s from across the room and he goes still. He puts a hand on Jaime’s shoulder.

“Fuck.” It’s Julian who says it, a breathy whisper as he realizes the clusterfuck he has just set in motion.

It’s the last sound in the room before shit hits the fan.

Jaime is the last one to spot the new presence in the room, and when he does, his entire body locks up. The blood drains from his face, making his pale skin nearly translucent. His knees hit the ground before anyone can intervene.

****

@whumpervescence

@shiningstarofwinter

@distinctlywhumpthing

@whumptywhumpdump

@nicolepascaline

@anotherbluntpencil

@hold-him-down

@crystalquartzwhump

@maracujatangerine

@batfacedliar-yetagain

@thecyrulik

@pumpkin-spice-whump

@finder-of-rings

@melancholy-in-the-morning

@insaneinthepaingame

@skyhawkwolf

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

@mylifeisonthebookshelf

@dont-touch-my-soup

@whump-world

@inpainandsuffering

@cicatrix-energy

@quietly-by-myself

@whumpsday

@extemporary-whump

@the-whumpers-grimm

@thebirdsofgay

@firewheeesky

@whumperfully

@hold-back-on-the-comfort

@termsnconditions-apply

@cyborg0109

@whumplr-reader

@pinkraindropsfell

@whatwhumpcomments

@honeycollectswhump

@pirefyrelight

@handsinmotion

@alexmundaythrufriday

@scoundrelwithboba

@starsick1979

@b0rgid

@whumps-and-bumps

#do no harm: jaime & sebastian #bbu #whump #whump writing #many would say 12:16 AM on a Thurs/Fri is optimal posting for Big Story Moments

102 notes · View notes

georgescitadel · 4 months

Text

George R.R. Martin on the process of creating A Game Of Thrones

Part 1

It is all very well to talk of novels and novellas, sextets and trilogies, but when you come right down to it, those are only the boxes. The size and shape of the box does not matter nearly as much as what goes inside it; that is to say, the story. A story has a beginning, a middle, and an end (usually in that order). It must not be drawn out beyond its proper length, but neither should it be truncated so as to fit into a certain number of books or a certain number of pages, What is the “proper length” for a story, one might ask… but the answer changes with every story. It is not something that can be decided beforehand, or determined by some formula. It is something you learn along the way, during the writing, for it is only during the writing that a story truly comes alive.

A Game of Thrones certainly came alive for me, when I finally cleared away most of my remaining Hollywood commitments and sat down to work on the book in earnest in 1994. I had been away from the world and characters tor some time, but they had not grown cold on me. Far from it. No sooner did I plant my butt in front of my computer than I fell right through to Westeros. The world grew broader and deeper and more complex, the plots unrolled smoothly, the characters began to haunt me night and day. Sentences became paragraphs, paragraphs became scenes, scenes became chapters. I was not printing hardcopy, so there was no pile of finished pages growing beside my desk, but I could see the files multiplying on my hard drive. I had 300 pages, 400 pages, 500 pages, 600 pages… and I had a problem.

It was the spring of ’95 when it finally dawned on me. I was fast approaching the 800 pages that I had estimated as the length of the finished book, but most of my large cast of characters were nowhere near the places they were supposed to be. Oh, Dany was… I had always meant to hatch those dragon eggs at the climax of my first volume… but she was the only one. For the rest, the end was nowhere in sight. I did not see any way I could possibly wrap up everything else I’d planned in the pages remaining to me.

“Very well,” I told myself, “I’ll go a little over. This is not television. A few extra pages will not matter. Fantasy readers love big books, after all.” On I wrote, and on. I reached 800 pages, and passed by without slowing down. Page 900 came and went. As I approached 1000 pages I gulped, for that big round number had an awful weight, but I pushed past all the same. There had been other 1000 page books, after all. A Game of Thrones grew larger, and still larger. I had 1100 pages, 1200 pages, 1300 pages… and my problem had become a crisis. For even at that length, the end of the first book was still hundreds of pages away. I looked at what I’d written and thought about what I hadn’t written, and realized with a sense of mounting horror that I was headed toward a 2000 page manuscript.

- George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings Limited Edition Introduction (2002)

#Ned Stark #Catelyn Stark #Sansa Stark #Arya Stark #Bran Stark #Jon Snow #Tyrion Lannister #Daenerys Targaryen #The Outline #A Game Of Thrones #George R.R. Martin #ValyrianScrolls #ASOIAF

128 notes · View notes

onlycosmere · 3 months

Text

Editing

tahollow: I always wondered exactly what editing was, but I figured it was more of making sure things align with the main focus of the story/characters instead of truncating the novel.

Brandon Sanderson: There's really three big stages to editing.

1) Substantive Editing. This is usually the editor reading the book and offering an "Editorial Letter." The editor often doesn't leave any marks on the manuscript in this stage, but instead writes everything out on the large scale. They might offer suggestions for improvement, but more often than not, they just highlight the problem areas and ask you to rethink them or ask for more clarity. Sometimes, you'll do a call an explain what you were trying, and you'll bounce ideas off each other of how to better achieve it.

I have four people usually doing substantive edits with me. Devi at Tor. Gillian from the UK. Peter from my own company. And Karen, my continuity editor. All are seeing the book early, and all are making large-scale notes about problems to work on. (Karen's focus is on continuity first--large scale continuity like timing of days, and comparisons to previous books. The others don't worry about that much, and focus on things like character arcs and structure.)

2) Line editing. When I had Moshe, he did both substantive and line editing. These days, Gillian is our primary line editor, and she does a second pass to cover this after doing her substantive editorial letter. She's a very good line editor, by the way. This is the "Make the page bleed" type thing you might hear of an editor doing. They go through and try to help you clarify. During this stage, they will trim, though the focus is on helping you find the right words, identify trouble sentences, and the like. Gillian usually has a handful (four or five) of these per page, depending. Some pages have none. Some have more. Tightening IS a focus during this stage, but it's again more about clarity.

After this stage, I do my own revision where--with a spreadsheet and wordcounts in hand--I cut 10-15% of the book, line by line, to really condense and make it pop. This is where I pay attention to language most. If I'm writing a book with a strong voice and distinctive prose, like one of Hoid's novels, I look to really implement it here. If I'm trying something more clear and concise, where I want character voice to dominate not narrative voice, I really try to get the writer to vanish here and let the character and story reign.

Because of this, I can track exactly how much I trimmed from Wind and Truth.

3) After this, a separate set of editors take over. The copy editor is focused on maintaining a style guide and making sure that there aren't line-level contradictions in the book. (Did you say his eyes were green here, and blue in a different chapter?) A copy editor is also a "first line" proofreader. They aren't supposed to make, or suggest, sweeping changes--at this point, the page numbers and the like of the book are getting locked in for pre production.

Peter Ahlstrom, my editorial VP, oversees this. I make changes during this stage, but when I do, he actually puts them into the text. He then works with the proofreaders, doing multiple passes.

So, not counting beta readers and alpha readers, I have five main editors on a Stormlight book.

Devi

Gillian

Peter

Karen

And Terry (our primary copyeditor.)

Each has a different role, though all of them but Terry offer a lot of substantive changes.

#brandon sanderson #writing #editing #cfsbf #root #wob #branderson

66 notes · View notes

wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

Text

Gun Park x Reader: this is our place (we make the rules)

Chapter 5 - Probably should read ch1 first

You are this close. This close to having a breakdown.

Who the hell flirts and says ‘are you hungry for food or something else,’ and invites you in for actual food.

And, you think as you consider jamming the chopsticks into your eyes, why the hell did you follow him into his home. Do you have no sense of propriety especially after what an asshole Gun has been?

Are you so overcome with horniness that you abandon all standards?

Yeah Gun Park might be hot. Maybe even the hottest thing you have ever seen.

Too bad he is rotten. A- a…

Douche, your brain offers and you slump at the impact of the word, like a bang that just fizzles out, missing the mark. You were hoping for the most aggressive curses known to man. But yeah. He is a douche. A douchebag.

Who the hell has black eyes. Who wears sunglasses indoors. Who does he think he is.

You know what? Fuck it.

You will not be intimidated by his home. All clean lines and pretentious.

Clearly lacking a personality, just like him.

If he has invited you for food. You will eat. You will eat him out of house and home and gorge yourself until your stomach bursts.

With gusto, you tuck into the food laid out before you. Just about enough for two people if they had small appetites.

Douche. You swallow down a mouthful of bibimbap.

Douchebag. And inhale the pickled radish.

Asshole. You take a swig of the sharing bottle of Coca Cola.

By the time that Gun comes out, he’s staring at a few stray clumps of rice.

“Hungry?”

“Starving,” you give him the biggest grin you can. Ha, that’ll teach him.

With a shrug, he takes out his phone, taps a few more times then tucks it away into his pocket.

“More food is on the way.”

Oh. Your grin turns into a grimace, “...Thanks.”

Waiting for the next food delivery is painful.

The minutes slog by. Seems to slow down even more when Gun takes a seat at the dining table opposite you. Observing you with those sharp black eyes.

Gun doesn’t speak.

He hardly finds that he needs to in most situations, preferring to let the silence settle and permeate. Grow uncomfortable until fools find the need to fill it. Spilling more than they intended.

“So,” you lean back into your seat and cross your arms, “Gun Park?”

“...”

“That’s your name, right?”

“Yes.”

“Gun Park,” you repeat again, testing the way the words sound on your tongue. Huh. It’s not as repulsive as you thought it would be.

“Y/N,” he says, and you jolt at the fact he knows who you are.

“How do you know?”

“I looked up who you are,” He says casually, like everyone just looks up random people, “I was curious.”

Oh yeah. Sure, that explains it.

“What did you find?”

Gun rattles off statements about you. Reduces your life down to a few lines and facts and dates. Punctuates it with, “That was all the PI could find.”

“Private investigator?” You hear your voice getting higher with each syllable. The ‘-tor’ is shrill.

“...”

“You said you looked me up! I thought you meant on social or something! AISH!” You flop back into your seat and click your tongue at Gun, who seems tickled at your reaction.

Seriously. Who is this guy anyway. This sounds like some rich Chaebol shit, which… tracks.

You glance around at his clothes, his stinking rich aura, the apartment that would be described as minimalist and never sparse or empty.

“Y/N.” Gun says again, this time he’s the one that’s testing out your name. He thinks of your furious eyes, the foot jammed between the door, all the times you flipped him off and finds he can’t help accompanying it with a small smile.

Oh.

All your anger and exasperation evaporates with that smile. Not a smirk, not mocking.

His face lights up and transforms. Eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, a ghost of a dimple on his cheeks. It takes years off him, looking more boyish.

Damn, he is handsome.

Gun finds out very little else about you.

At least, nothing that answers what he wanted to know.

As he eats, you ramble something about college and your family and friends. Moan about your sink. Talk a little about how odd it is to have money. To buy what you want but you still can’t bring yourself too.

He finds he doesn’t mind your words. Voice pleasing and warm, seeping into his skin.

And as you grow comfortable, gesticulating and body growing easy - Gun can’t recall ever having shared a meal with someone in his home.

Can’t recall sitting with someone else in their company like this.

Silence settles, this time amenable, almost pleasant. Any annoyance long expired.

You notice the kitchen stove is spotless to the point of unused.

“Have you even used that?”

“Never.”

“So you just order takeout all the time?”

“When I’m home, yes.”

“You can’t cook?”

“I prefer spending my time doing other things.”

“Like what?”

Gun gives you another smile, this time teasing.

Your breath catches in your throat and your stupid traitorous heart pounds.

Over the weeks, as you cook you find the portion sizes growing infinitesimally.

It gets to the point that there’s enough for another portion left over and then some.

Huh. Will you fancy that.

The most difficult thing is getting Gun to thaw.

Because once he thaws and warms to you, he himself melts into a puddle surprisingly quickly.

Getting past those walls? Worming your way under his skin and finding a heart there? Nigh on impossible.

Actually statistically impossible, never been done before.

Saying that. He's never had such a constant, harmless presence in his life before too.

Someone that doesn't want anything from him or expect anything either. Doesn't know who he is, and accepts what they see.

There is no exchange of power. Barely even any exchange of words.

Gun finds with you, there's no ulterior motive.

If there's never any danger in the first place, then the walls don't need to be built as high.

Each time you see him, he's a little less frosty. The curt nod developing into a ‘Morning’ or ‘Evening’. Or when he’s in a particular good mood - ‘Hello’.

You continue flipping him off on the odd occasion and he stills the gesture, not used to the disrespect. (Who would even dare to do that to Gun Park especially if they want to keep their finger.)

Then he huffs, a tiny and subtle exhale and the briefest quirk of the lips. But it's there.

And so. You build up your confidence.

“Here,” you hold out a tupperware to Gun that he receives with thanks and little rebuttal.

By the next morning, or a few days after that, you always get your container back. Left on your doorstep with a sticky note and a messy scrawl.

‘thanks’

‘this was good’

‘more salt’

‘i dont like cilantro’

‘you should make this again’

‘too much garlic’

Even the criticism perks on your day.

It becomes something you look forward to each morning. You keep the notes, hiding them away in a drawer.

The handwriting that initially is almost illegible you can now read with ease.

#you thought we were ooc territory before? well have i got news for you #lookism #lookism webtoon #lookism x reader #lookism manhwa #lookism fanfic #lookism fics #gun park #park jonggun #gun park x reader #park jonggun x reader #wannaeatramyeon

163 notes · View notes

slutforsnow · 9 months

Text

Doing a request and chapter 3 today!! Hopefully I get them done :3

Also, I just wanna say ty for all the love on chapter 1 and 2, you guys are the sweetest 🥹🫶🏼 and I am taking requests! :]

63 notes · View notes

danceswithsporks · 3 months

Text

Awake-Part 4

Crosshair x f! Innkeeper

*Not canon to Season 3*

Parts 1 2 3

Chapter Summary: Crosshair begins to try and settle into life on Pabu while dealing with his feelings.

Authors Notes: It’s another long one folk! This one was tough for me to write for whatever reason. I think I hit a wall and I’m slowly getting over it. Think of it as a 60ft wall and I’m using two little daggers to climb over it because I can’t find a ladder. Does that make sense? Idfk. All I know is this took me longer than intended and I’m so sorry for that! I still hope you’ll enjoy this chapter! ♥️

Spotify Playlist has been updated with the new song!

Awake, he was fucking awake again. The entire inn was asleep and yet here he fucking was. Wide awake and lost in thought. Ever since he’d arrived on this island he’d barely slept. When he did sleep she wasn’t there anymore. Instead, she was replaced by those he’d lost like Mayday and Tech. They haunted his sleep. They berated him and reminded him of their deaths. Tortured him with the knowledge that they’d both died and he was in some way connected.

It had been a week since they’d returned to Pabu and Crosshair had scarcely left his room. In the last seven days, he’d left twice. Once, on their first day there to try and interact with the others, and then on day four to go with Hunter and Echo to check on Wrecker and the kid. He couldn’t even make it to their home before he turned back. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t face the kid right now.

During his walk back to his room, he ran into you. You smiled at him and it made his heart beat fast. He still didn’t understand how you could be real. You used to run rampant in his dreams and then suddenly you’d stopped. Your voice, your laugh, and your eyes, it was all the same. How could this be possible? He still hadn’t mentioned to the others about his dream in fear they’d write him off as crazy. Deep down he knew they never would do that. But his mind kept telling him they could.

“Good evening, Crosshair.” You said sweetly to him as he walked by. The flowing sundress you wore blew in the breeze of your opened patio doors. “Will you join us for dinner tonight?” You looked hopefully at him.

He shook his head no as he neared the stairs. He felt horrible for not speaking to you. He’d dreamed about you so much before meeting you and now he couldn’t even face you. What would you think of him if you knew everything he’d done and what he’d gone through? Would you continue to be this nice?

You watched in silence. The way he was acting reminded you of how Stitches had acted after losing her parents. It had been months before she was back to normal. From what you’d heard from Stitches, Crosshair had made the call to the boys to warn them. Could he possibly blame himself for them leaving the safety of Pabu and the avoidable death of his brother? You sincerely hoped that wasn’t the case. That was a dark deep pit to be stuck in. It took you and many others months to get Stitches back to normal. Maybe you should reach out to him? Talk to him? The sound of the door opening drew your attention away from the clone and back to your business.

-*-

The second week came and went in a haze for Crosshair. He barely left his room and barely ate the food you brought up. He could hear his brothers in the hall talking to you on different occasions and the concern you felt for him was clear. It was only when he was sure everyone was out of the hall did he ever open his door for food. He wanted to leave his room, he did, but it was like there was a weight on him preventing him from doing so. It chained him to his room and anchored him to that space alone. Every time he attempted to leave his chest would get heavy.

One night at the beginning of the third week, when the moon was full and illuminated the island in a gentle glow, he found himself compelled to leave his room. He wasn’t sure why he was compelled to leave, he just was. He crept down the stairs quietly in hopes of not waking his slumbering brothers or you. To his surprise, you were already awake and sitting on the patio in one of the chairs overlooking your garden with the door wide open. A gentle breeze blew through the room carrying the scent of lavender and roses in the air. Crosshair inhaled slowly and let out a quiet sigh. He’d been stuck in his room for so long that he’d forgotten the smell of fresh sea air. It reminded him of Kamino. He, surprisingly, missed the water planet.

He stepped towards the patio door and the floor creaked beneath his feet. You turned in your seat and smiled softly at him.

“Crosshair, I was wondering when I’d see you again.” Your voice was gentle like the ocean air. You didn’t stand from your seat but simply looked over your shoulder at the mysterious clone. You’d briefly seen his hands poke out from his room to grab a tray of food before the door would shut again. You could hear him moving around from the first floor and you’d heard him cry out a few nights prior.

He didn’t say anything to you as he stepped out onto the patio. A cup of tea sat on the table in front of you with steam swirling from it. You motioned to a chair near you and after a moment of hesitation, he sat down.

“Here.” You whispered. “I’ll go make another cup. Don’t worry, I haven’t drunk from it.” Carefully the cup was passed to him before you stood and went back inside.

Crosshair hadn’t expected you to give him your drink. He hadn’t expected anything from you, he didn’t deserve anything from you. Not after the things he’d done. His hand wrapped around the cup and the warmth from the drink spread across his body making goose flesh scatter his skin. Behind him, the sound of you in the kitchen could be heard. The clink of another mug being placed on the counter, a cabinet opening, the clang of the kettle on the stove, and the sound of a metal spoon stirring in the mug. It all rang out in the silent night air to his ears. After a few minutes, you returned with a happy hum and sat back in your chair.

A silence hung in the air between the two of you as you both stared at the night sky. Every few moments Crosshair would shift in his seat or take a drink of the tea. A cool night breeze danced through the air and against your skin making you shiver. “Should have brought my sweater.” You joked lightly before moving to go inside and grab a blanket. Instead, Crosshair stood and motioned for you to stay in your seat. He moved inside quickly and after a minute returned with a blanket. “Oh, thank you, Crosshair.” You spoke gently as he laid the blanket around your shoulders. You watched as he returned to his seat and the two of you fell back into your silence.

An hour later you finally let out a long sigh and broke the silence. “I should get inside and get some sleep before I have to make breakfast.”

Oh, you were leaving already? He was kind of enjoying this quiet time. He watched as you stood from the table with the blanket still around your shoulders. Words seemed to fail him as you stood in the glow of the moonlight in your pajama shorts and tank top.

Grabbing your empty mug of tea, you began to head inside before stopping in the doorway. “You should take a walk down to the docks. There’s a sea wall you can sit on and just breathe in the crisp sea air. It might help you clear your mind.”

“How do you know I need to clear my mind?” Crosshair stood from his chair.

“My apartment is below your room.” You pointed over your shoulder. “I hear you moving around at night. You have trouble sleeping, don’t you?” Reaching up, you pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders as you tried to fight off the chill of the night air.

“I” he hesitated. You were right, he was having trouble sleeping.

“Take the walk, Crosshair. When you get back you can take a long shower and I’ll have breakfast ready for you.” You passed him a sweet smile before turning and heading inside, not giving him the chance to argue. A plan was forming in your head.

He watched you place the blanket on the back of the couch in the living area before disappearing into the apartment behind the door marked ‘Private’. A shower and breakfast? Did he smell that bad? He gave himself a sniff and frowned, it had been a few days since he’d last showered.

Crosshair looked out at the vast star-filled sky and chewed his lip. Perhaps you were right, a long walk in fresh air might do him some good. No doubt the shower later would help as well. Grabbing the same blanket you had used, he wrapped it around his shoulders and headed out the front door.

You stood watching from your balcony as the quiet clone began the descent down the island. It would take him some time to reach the docks at the speed he was walking. But perhaps that was a good thing. You’d never gone through a big tragedy like they had. Your life on Pabu had been perfect. Two parents who loved you fiercely, grandparents who adored you, and an inn that, before the empire had taken over, had been doing great.

Your mother had passed from sickness a few years prior and your father soon after from, what the doctor had called a broken heart. It was sad and you’d cried your eyes out for nearly a month. But you knew people like Stitches had had it harder. Your grandparents took over raising you but then they passed the year before, your grandmother in spring and your grandfather in winter, and thus you were on your own. It wasn’t some tragic tale of loss and heartbreak. You hadn’t been traumatized from any of it. In short, your life had indeed been close to perfect as perfect could be. The only bad times you could think of where you truly were upset would have to be the bad breakups you’d had over the years. That was to be expected when you dated customers.

With a sigh, you thought about your family. You’d been sad when your parents passed, that much was true. But your grandmother had always told you to take walks and let the sea air calm you. It worked too. Perhaps it was one of those old wives' tales mixed with a placebo effect. But you believed in it and hopefully so would Crosshair. If your grandmother was still alive she would have dragged him from his room on the third day and forced him to eat a big bowl of her homemade lentil soup. He probably would have outwardly hated it, but it would have warmed his soul and no doubt it would have helped him. You’d once tried to make the soup in hopes of honoring your grandmother, but it didn’t taste anything close to hers. You hadn’t tried to make it since then. Maybe you should, perhaps the boys would like it.

They were still your only customers, more like tenants at this point. You’d had conversations with both Echo and Hunter since they’d first arrived and you’d seen Stitches, Wrecker, and Omega just a few days ago when you went to pick up the clothes the seamstress had made for the boys. One night, a few days ago, Hunter and Echo explained what happened. Your heart hurt for them. To lose a brother in such a terrible way was one of the worst things imaginable. You’d offered your condolences to them and they’d taken it. Now you understood why Omega and Wrecker were having nightmares and why Stitches was so worried. You’d asked if anyone had told Chai what had happened and both men shook their heads.

“I offered to explain it all to her. But she said she wasn’t ready.” Hunter had told you solemnly.

You wondered if the girl would ever be ready. With a long hum, you pushed off the balcony wall and stepped back into your room. The worry for your friends ran through your head as you laid back into your much too-large bed. Perhaps you’d visit Chai in the morning? Check on her before checking on Stitches and her little family. Whatever you’d do, Crosshair would come first. You fell back to sleep thinking about your plan.

-*-

The walk down Pabu was surprisingly nice. The cool night air mixed with the sea air and blew through his skin in a way that had him closing his eyes and sighing. Memories of Kamino danced through his mind. Sure they were ignored and on the receiving end of insults from the regs but outside of that, it was his home. The place he grew up with his vod at.the place where he’d made the stupid decision to wait for the empire instead of going with the batch. Whether the memories were good or bad, that ocean scent would always transport him home.

He followed the cobblestone path to the base of the hill where a waist-high seawall sat. A figure shifted on the wall making him realize he wasn’t alone. Instinctually, he moved to grab his blaster but realized he didn’t have it. He moved to turn and head away from the potential danger when he kicked a loose pebble across the cobblestones. The sound seemed to echo in the quiet night air. The figure shifted and turned to face him. It was her, Techs girl.

“Oh. I thought I was the only one up this late.” Chai tried to force a smile but found herself still unable to. She’d last smiled before they returned. Back when she felt like everything would be okay and Tech would come back to her. Now it felt like she’d never smile again. She looked at his brother with tired eyes and found the same exhaustion looking back at her. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“No” What was he supposed to say to her at this moment? It was clear she wanted to be alone. He’d heard Hunter talking to Doll and Echo about how the woman didn’t want to know about what happened to Tech. Seeing as he was the cause of his death, Crosshair was the last person who should be talking to her. “I’ll leave.”

“No!” Chai nearly jumped off the sea wall. Perhaps having the company of one of his brothers would help calm her. “Please. Join me?” She patted the space next to her.

Crosshair swallowed as your words rang out to him. The sea air would help, hopefully you were right. He nodded to Chai before moving to the wall and boosting himself onto the stone wall. His feet dangled next to hers and he wished he hadn’t worn shoes so he could feel the spray on his ankles. How they were sitting reminded him once more of Kamino and how he and his brothers would sit and watch the Aiwha fly around.

“We haven’t been introduced. I’m Chai.” She released the datapad in her lap with one hand and offered it to the clone before her. A burn scar could be seen on the right side of his head and she wondered how he got it. Tech had never mentioned a burn scar.

“Crosshair.” He shook her hand gently before looking down at the familiar datapad. “You look yet?” The question left him before he could stop it.

She shook her head solemnly. “I tried a few days ago. But it’s locked and I don’t know the code. I tried his clone number but it didn’t work.” Talking to him was almost refreshing in a way. This was the most she’d spoken in days.

“Check his goggles. He wrote the code in one of the rims.” Just in case he forgot it for whatever reason. Crosshair was the only one to know of its location. It was his job as Tech's twin to know these things. Twin, he wasn’t a twin anymore. Now it was just him. Tech understood him deeper than anyone else had and now he was on his own.

“Oh.” She looked down at the device in her lap and sighed softly. She’d look for the code when she went home. Maybe today would be the day she’d look through it. “Thanks”

Crosshair nodded before looking back out over the ocean. It was nice here, just the sound of the ocean waves hitting the rocks below and their breathing. Maybe a sigh here or there but that was it.

Chai had to admit, she appreciated the silence that fell. For the past two weeks, people had been offering their condolences and sympathy for her loss. Her brothers and father had tried to talk her through the grief and both Hunter and Echo had tried to explain what had happened. But so far Crosshair was keen to not say anything about the topic. She liked that. For these last two weeks, she’d felt so alone. But having someone just sit by her who wasn’t trying to talk about anything seemed to be just what she needed.

After an hour, Chai turned and hopped off the wall. “I should go back and get ready to open the shop.” A shop owner's job didn’t stop, not even for the death of one they cared for. Crosshair nodded to her, not moving to stand. “I come down most nights. Feel free to join me.”

He looked over his shoulder at the girl before nodding once more. He had barely any words to say to her. His mind hadn’t stopped running over what to say to her or discuss with her. But according to Shaak Ti, sometimes saying nothing was just as important as saying something. She offered for him to join her another night. Would she hold that offer once she learned what he’d done? That he was why Tech was gone? “Thanks.” Was all he could think to say to her.

-*-

You woke up to the sound of Crosshair's door shutting and his feet crossing the room. Perfect. You checked your clock and found it had been three hours since he’d left. Hopefully that time away did him some good. Humming softly, you pulled yourself from the warmth of your bed and back into the cool air blowing in off the ocean. You’d left your balcony doors open and that cool crisp air had filled your room. Pulling on your long robe, you stepped out of your room and over to the main kitchen. Stitches would be dropping off breakfast and lunch for them soon enough, but you wanted to do something more traditional and hearty for him. Something to truly welcome him to the island.

While two eggs were boiling in salted water, you pulled fresh yogurt from the conservator that had been delivered the day before from one of Pabu’s sister islands. A merchant fleet of ships traveled to all the islands on your planet, even Pabu had two ships that were part of the fleet.

You poured the yogurt into a small dish and added a drizzle of honey over the top of it with a few figs on the side before moving over to start the gliko caf. Maybe he wouldn’t like it so sweet but you loved it that way and so he’d have to at least try it. You poured the sugar and cream into the cups and waited for the delicious dark liquid to pour from the brewer. Now you just needed the kalathaki, prozimi, and the amygdalota. You had the feta, gruyere, and nuts already.

As if on cue, there was a knock on your front door. After a moment the door opened and Chai’s older brother, Vino, came in with your daily order of sweets and bread. He was always kind enough to swing by the bakers and pick up your bread order. Chai had let it slip that he had a crush on you and while you found it sweet, you didn’t feel the same way back. He was your best friend's brother after all.

“Thank you, Vino.” You stepped around the island in your kitchen and over to the basket in his hands.

“Anytime, Doll.” He smiled at you the same way he always did. With a twinkle in his eye and a smile that reached his bright blues. “Your orders have been bigger since the clones arrived.”

You took the basket from him and shrugged. “They eat a lot. Well, two of them do. Plus I split with Stitches.” The smell of the prozimi wafted through the air and made you sigh. The sourdough always smelled amazing. “How is she?” You hadn’t heard from your dear friend in a few days and you worried.

Vino shrugged. “Some days are better than others. She’s been going out at night when she thinks we’re all asleep. Goes to the seawall and just stares.”

“They had a lot of moments there.” The seawall, huh? You wondered if Crosshair had run into her a few hours ago. “I’ll swing by and talk to her later today. That okay?”

“You know you’re always welcome at our place, Doll.” You were like family after all. He reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder gently. “Maybe talking to you will pull her out of her funk. I haven’t seen her this bad, ever. Not even when mom passed.”

You nodded to him while patting his hand. “She’ll be okay. Just give her some time. We all grieve in our own way.”

Vino stepped closer to you and looked down into your eyes. “Are you grieving as well?” He raised his hand to stroke your chin but heard someone clear their throat behind him. Damn. One of these days he’d get the courage to ask you out.

“Stitches!” Thank the stars she was here. Things were getting awkward with Vino.

“Hey, Good morning.” She winked at you as you stepped around Vino and back to your island. She walked across the room and elbowed her friend's brother. “Vino. Don’t you have a shop to open?”

“Right.” He nodded to you sweetly. “See ya later? I’ll let Chai know you’re coming over.”

“Sounds good. Thanks again, Vino.” You watched as the man waved bye to Stirches before leaving. You shook your head as you stepped around the counter and back to the slowly forming tray of food. Already you could tell that Stitches was going to tease you. The basket of goodies was placed on the counter while you checked on the caf. It was almost ready. Just five more minutes. You could see into the small crate that Stitches carried. Six containers of food sat neatly within. “Hope this wasn’t too early for ya.” You tried to avoid the teasing that was no doubt coming.

“I was heading to the school to get Omega enrolled so I’ve got some time.” She walked over and placed the crate down while smirking. “So you and Vino, huh?”

“Don’t start.” You hated how awkward things were between you two now that you knew he liked you. “Wish Chai had never said anything.” The goodies of your basket were pulled out and placed on the counter. The kalathaki looked amazing with its golden crispy crust. You pulled out a knife and cut two pieces from the cheese-based pie. A few more slices were cut and placed into your fridge before you packaged the rest up for Stitches.

“I think it’s cute.” She watched as you sliced a few pieces of the sourdough bread and placed it on the tray. Now who were you making all of this for? “He’s like a little puppy with the way he does things for you.” She reached over and plucked an amygdalota from the basket. The almond cookie danced on her tongue as she took a bite. “Ugh, Chai definitely made these.” They tasted just right. Nice and firm on the outside but chewy on the inside with just the right balance of salt and sugar.

She moved over to your conservator and pulled out a few pieces of mixed fruit as well as some olives. “Wow, good haul from the merchant ships. Was Dion working?” Out of all the merchants, Dion liked you the most, and thus he always gave you a great deal. She placed the items on the counter next to you.

“Yeah.” Once again there was another man who crushed on you. None of them fit that fairytale romance you wanted though. You wanted someone who would listen to what you had to say and understand it. Someone who looked at you like you were everything to them. Someone who you could care for but would care for you as well. That perfect relationship like yours, and so many others, parents had.

“So which one of them is it? Who's the lucky clone getting this amazing-looking tray of food.” She watched as you placed a few of the almond cookies onto the tray before turning and grabbing the eggs from the water. Stitches was quick to help you by grabbing a bowl and filling it with ice and water.

You deposited the eggs into the water to quickly cool as you finished filling the tray. All you needed was the eggs and then the caf. Already your inn was smelling amazing and no doubt the other clones would be up soon. You tried to ignore her question but as usual, your friend wouldn’t let up.

“Can’t be Hunter, he’s too rugged for your taste. Remember Ienzo? You hated his ruggedness.” She grabbed an olive and popped it into her mouth. The salty brine burst in her mouth. She hadn't eaten before she left and it was catching up to her.

“Ienzo’s beard was too long and had stuff stuck in it. Not to mention his hair was too greasy. I don’t think I’d call that rugged. I’d just call that gross. From what I’ve seen, Hunter is far from that.” But still far from your type. You grabbed the caf from the brewer and poured it into the two cups. It took a lot of willpower not to down your cup right away.

Stitches shook her head as you rolled your eyes. “Ok, well it can’t be Echo. He’s far too pale for you. Remember Ansem?”

You placed a few pieces of cutlery on the tray before looking around for some napkins. “Ansem couldn’t even step outside without burning. I can’t be with someone like that while living on a sunny island. From what I understand, Echo is recovering from some serious shit and hasn’t regained his color. Just as Crosshair is.”

As soon as you said his name she knew she’d got you. “So it is Crosshair.” She giggled excitedly. “You and Crosshair. I can’t believe it!” Wrecker had folded her very little about Crosshair. Just that he was Tech’s twin and had been the one to make the call that sent them on their rescue mission.

“Will you keep your voice down? Honestly.” You shooed her with one of the cloth napkins you’d found. “It’s not like that. He’s struggling with something. I just want to try and help him through whatever it is.” Having someone moping around your inn wouldn’t look good for you. Plus he was too cute to be sad.

Oh. Oh no. You found him cute.

No, you couldn’t fall for yet another customer. Not after the last one. You’d made a deal with yourself that you wouldn’t date another customer. You were just helping him because you felt bad for him. Yeah. That was all. Not because he had soft eyes filled with emotion or a cute butt. No, it was just because he was sad and you were trying to be nice.

“Doll? Doooollll.” Stitches waved her hand in your face to draw your attention once more.

“Huh? What?” You hadn’t realized you’d zoned out. You waved her hand away from your face before walking over to the bowl of ice and pulling out the two eggs.

“I asked if you’d be making him this special meal every day?” If you were then she could cut back on one of the meals she made every day.

Sighing, you shook your head. “Just today. I’m trying to make him feel comfortable here. It can be hard going from one planet to another, especially when dealing with the death of a brother.” Or so you’d heard from passing customers. Back before the Empire took over you had all manner of customers come through your inn. Families, vendors, bounty hunters, and lone wolves. You’d seen it all and heard it all. You may not have experienced hardship like those around you, but you understood it enough.

“Right.” She clapped her hands together and hugged you quickly. “Well I expect to be the first to know when that fails and you end up married to him.”

“Oh, my gods. Why are you this way?” You hugged her before shooing her once more. “I can guarantee it won’t come to that.”

“Whatever you say, Doll. Whatever you say.” She gathered her portion of the baked goods and bread into the basket. She took a moment to think about something before speaking in a more serious tone. “Don’t force him, or Chai, to talk about what’s wrong. You know as much as I do that’ll just push them deeper into themselves.”

Your lips formed a thin line as you nodded. “I know.” There was a moment of hesitation between you two before you continued. “How are they? Wrecker and Omega?”

She hummed in thought for a moment. “It’s day by day. They both still have nightmares and Omega barely eats right now. But I think getting her enrolled in school and back around other kids will help.” Stitches checked the basket for everything to distract herself from worrying too much about her little family. “Give Chai my love?”

“I will.” You nodded while resting your hands on the cool countertop. “I’ll stop by after I talk to her. ‘Kay?” Your friend nodded before turning and leaving your inn. Only once the door was shut did you move around the counter and begin to pull the containers of food from the crate. You’d quickly get these sorted before going up to Crosshair’s room. Hopefully, he was done showering by now.

-*-

Crosshair sat on the edge of his bed in the darkness of his room. He’d showered after his walk and reluctantly put a fresh pair of pajama pants on instead of simply laying on his bed in a towel. He wasn’t back to normal, it would take a lot longer for that to happen, but he did feel a little bit better.

A soft knock on his door drew his attention. Standing, he walked over to the door and pressed his ear against the cool metal.

“Crosshair? I brought you a little something to eat.” You spoke just barely loud enough for him to hear. Not wanting to wake his brothers up or draw attention to you two.

He paused for a moment before opening the door with the intent of taking the tray of food from you and then going back into his room alone. It seemed you had other plans though. With a sweet smile at him that shook his entire body, you stepped past him and into the room he’d holed himself up in for two weeks. He barely caught sight of the tray but it was far from ‘a little’. From what he’d seen it was a lot, the tray was full. “Umm,” What was he supposed to say? Get out? What are you doing? You look nice in that dress.

Wait.

You’d worn a sundress countless times before, it seemed to be your preferred outfit, so why did he think you looked nice this time? He stood in the doorway watching you closely as you moved to the desk and placed down the tray. You stepped over to the window and in one swift movement the curtains were pulled back and the morning light flooded his room. The dress you wore was light blue with white stripes running down it multiple times. You had a pair of heeled strap sandals on and your hair was down. You looked just like you did nearly every time he’d caught a glimpse of you. So what was it about this time that made him feel this way?

“Don’t worry, I won’t be charging you extra for the meal.” You smirked at him before turning around and staring at his window. It was a little musky in here. With a cute humph, you unlatched the window and pushed it open happily. The crisp morning air blew into the room instantly and fluttered your dress making you laugh lightly.

Crosshair practically swooned at your smirk. When the wind blew your dress around his knees nearly gave out. You were the most stunning creature he’d ever seen. “Huh?” Wow, he was not great at speaking to you.

You fought the little chuckle that bubbled its way into your throat. “How was your walk? Did you make it to the seawall?” You’d been fussing with the tray of food until you heard the door shut. Good, he wasn’t running for the hills. Smiling, you looked up at him and watched as he walked across the room to you. It was only then that you noticed he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Your cheeks flushed at the sight of his surprisingly toned body. Hunter had told you that he’d been a prisoner for a while but that didn’t seem to have affected him too much.

The morning sun enveloped you like a halo of orange and yellow as he stepped across the room. Seeing you like this, looking so beautiful, it seemed to loosen his tongue. “I did. It was nice.” He looked down at the tray of food and felt his mouth water. Everything looked so good, even the eggs.

Picking up one of the mugs of caf, you passed it to him. “Did you see Chai? Her brother told me this morning that she’s been going out at night.”

“I did.” Her brother? He didn’t realize she had a brother. There wasn’t much he knew about the girl, only that Tech was interested in her. This morning? It had only been a few hours since he’d seen the girl. Was it normal for men to come to your inn so early in the morning? Why did that make his heart twinge? “Didn’t say much.” He took the caf from you and waited for you to pick up the one intended for you.

“Did she seem okay?” Your hand hesitated over your cup.

You really cared for the girl, didn’t you? “She was quiet. Told her the code for the datapad.”

Picking up the caf, you chewed your lip. “So she still hasn’t looked at it?” Echo had explained that there was something on the device that Tech had wanted her to see. What it was no one seemed to know. It was all just part of the contingency the clone seemed to have had.

“Suppose not.” If she couldn’t even unlock the device then there was no way that she’d seen what was inside.

You couldn’t let this get you down, not when you’d come in here with a plan. The cup in your hands was held out to him in cheers that he seemed reluctant to return. Never dropping the smile that you forced back onto your face, you took a sip of your caf and hummed happily. It was just the perfect level of sweetness with a small bite of bitterness on the tail end. “I’ll check on her later.” You watched Crosshair carefully as he downed the entire cup of caf. He made a face that let you know that he didn’t care for the sweetness of the drink. It made you chuckle. “Sorry, wasn’t sure how you liked your caf.”

You were so happy and peppy. Usually, that would annoy him but on you, it looked great. It almost made him want to smile and forget about everything. Almost. “It’s fine.”

Well, it was the thought that counted. “Well, I think you should try the kalathaki next. It’s from the baker, they’re the best on the island when it comes to the pies.” You picked up the plate holding a slice of the cheese pie, it smelled delicious.

Crosshair looked down at the tray of food and felt his stomach ache. He’d barely been eating these last couple of days. It all looked good too, you truly knew how to make a meal. But his mind and body pulled away from the food. He couldn’t bring himself to eat. Shaking his head, he lived to step away but heard you clear your throat suddenly.

You watched the way he turned from you. Oh, he thought he’d get out of eating? Clearing your throat, you picked up a fork and cut a small piece of the pie. “Try a bite?” You gave him the best puppy dog eyes that you could muster.

“I” he let out a long sigh. How could he say no when you looked at him like that? You’d gone through all the work of making the food for him and bringing it up to his room. The least he could do was try a small bite. Crosshair allowed you to slide a small piece into his mouth, the smile on your face pure as he did so.

It tasted amazing. Better than anything he’d had before. The flavor burst in his mouth making his tongue sing. His stomach practically growled at the introduction of delicious food. He’d only been snacking on small pieces of bread or the rolls that came with the meals she dropped off. This was on an entirely different level. Before he could process the first bite you were already cutting another piece. He should step in and say he was able to feed himself but you seemed so pleased with yourself and honestly? He was tired.

You let him chew the piece in his mouth while you set the plate down. Moving behind him, you grabbed the chair and placed it behind him. Without a word, he sat down and stared at you. You could see how tired he was, but that was okay. You’d take care of him.

-*-

Thirty minutes later he took his final bite of the food. It had been a slow process for you to feed him, he didn’t seem too excited to eat. It wasn’t a lot that he’d eaten, small amounts here and there from the different items on the tray, but he’d at least eaten something.

You stood from the spot on the floor that you’d slid into. It had been silent in the room since you’d started feeding him. You didn’t mind too much. Yes, it was odd at first but you didn’t want to press him too much. You were lucky that he’d let you in and do this much for him, pressing your luck could prove futile. He could easily lock back up and not let you in again.

“Come on.” You whispered while extending your hand to him.

The last thirty minutes had flown by in a blur as you fed him. He’d felt like a child at first but slowly he’d felt something else. Gratefulness? Lust? Desire? Someone as beautiful as you had been hand-feeding him. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve someone like you taking care of someone like him. Every moment and bite was savored as you worked around the tray. All of it had been delicious, but the pie had by far been his favorite.

You stood and offered your hand to him and without hesitation he took it. He was easily pulled onto his feet and into your body. “S-sorry.” Came from him as he realized how close to you he was, you smelled amazing.

Oh. He was warm. Your hand rested against his muscular chest for a moment as you repositioned him. You intended to lead him to his bed so he could get some sleep but you realized it was messy and deeply slept in. No doubt it smelled as bad as it looked. “Follow me?”

Follow you? Follow you where? He’d trusted you so far. He continued to hold your hand as you led him from his room. “Where are we go-“

“We’re going on an adventure.” You squeezed his hand gently while leading him down the hall and the stairs.

In the dining area at the table sat Hunter and Echo. Both men were distracted in a discussion over information Rex had found on some Republic medical staff prisoners. The stairs creaked under the dual weight of you and Crosshair as the two of you walked down them. Hunter looked over to say good morning to you and was surprised to see your hand wrapped around his vods. You paid them both little mind as you rounded the stairs and stepped through the door marked private. Hunter tried to wave down Crosshair and ask what the hell was going on but the man seemed just as lost as he was. The door shut with a gentle swoosh leaving Hunter and Echo to ponder what the hell they’d just seen.

Crosshair looked around your small apartment in surprise. He was in your private space right now. The space that no one was supposed to see besides your friends. What did that make him? He’d only known you for two weeks and you’d barely spoken to each other. You walked into a side room and pulled him in behind you. The bed made it clear that this was your bedroom. It smelled of flowers and fresh linen while your bed looked incredibly comfortable and inviting.

Finally, you stopped and motioned to your bed. “Please, get comfortable.”

“But it-“ you raised your hand to him quickly and shook your head.

“Your bedding needs to be washed. None of the other rooms are set up for guests right now. So the obvious choice was for you to use mine.” Stepping over to the bed, you pulled down the white floral print duvet and matching sheet before motioning for him to get in. “Don’t worry, I won’t watch you sleep.”

“I didn’t think you would.” Maybe he did a little but you’d never know that. He walked over to your bed and carefully sat down on it. It was so soft and comfortable.

“Oh, he’s snappy.” You winked at him while walking back around the bed and towards the door. “I like that.” You stood in the doorway and watched as he laid down and got comfortable. “Refresher is over to the left and there’s a pitcher of fresh water on the bedside table. Get some rest and I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Why are you doing all of this?” He asked as he rested his head against your soft pillow. Now this was a nice bed.

“Because we all need a little help sometimes.” Whether it was getting out of a rut or seeing the bad that others already could see. “Sweet dreams, Crosshair.”

He turned his head and watched as you stepped out of the room. “Thanks” came as a whisper that only he could hear.

Crosshair lay in the bed for what felt like an eternity, sleep eluding him for the time being. His mind raced over the events of the morning so far. First, he’d sat with you outside, then he’d met Chai and sat with her, you’d actually fed him and now he was lying in your very large bed. How had he gone from the sad darkness of his room to the light happiness of yours? He looked around from the warmth of the bed and picked up on a few things. You kept a datapad that was designed for reading next to your bed as well as a box of tissues. Your balcony led to the garden where the smell of flowers was coming from and your closet could be seen from the bed. There was, in fact, a large amount of sundresses within. There were also a few trophies on your wall surrounding a vanity with a large mirror that was directly across from the bed. It was a nice room. The scent of your perfume hung on the pillow pulling him from his thoughts and finally, after countless sleepless nights and an hour of laying in your bed, he fell into a deep sleep.

Taglist:

@rndmpeep @sarahskywalker-amadala @queenariesofnarnia @idoubleswearimawriter @bambambunny @ravenclawbitch426 @jupitersaturnapollo @mzjakao @heylosers06 @dangraccoon @impala1967666 @andrakass2 @ducks118 @motte-the-goblin @rintheemolion @merkitty49 @jediknightjana @onyxtides @moon-wrecked @mssbridgerton @griffedeloup

Want to be added to the Taglist? Let me know!

#fanfic update #bad batch crosshair #the bad batch fic #crosshairs bad batch #tbb crosshair x you #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #crosshair x reader #Spotify #SoundCloud

23 notes · View notes

t0bey · 11 months

Note

sorry!! I meant the new storymode chapter for idv that came out!

ohh i see! ty for clarifying ^^ forgive me bc this is gonna be long and i have MANY thoughts

i actually really loved this episode a lot?? in terms of actual gameplay content i think i even enjoyed this more than TOR, (excluding out of game elements of the event like the animations) and considering my main gripes with episode 1 was how short it was, this ep being 50+ minutes in total definitely solved that problem i had!!

i really enjoy the pacing of everything so far, even if im kind of confused on if our choices actually impact anything? i think part of it is explained by orpheus clearly trying to manipulate what alice does in certain parts of the game like confronting frederick, but others seem like its just the option of choices getting in the way of the game's v obvious linear storytelling lol. i hope that the choices that affect relationships actually serve a purpose long-term

i was wondering how they were going to include mary in the main lore considering for years she's only really been a retelling of marie antoinette's history, but honestly? i love that they fleshed her out into her own character being mary de capet instead of just marie antoinette, and she has her own lore with the racecourse and frederick too. i loved the chase between her and alice sm, and it was interesting how it turned out that in actuality it was *frederick* that alice was hallucinating as mary

anyways mary showing up in HD and having a badass entrace was very cool

also i think everyone knew frederick was going to be taken out somehow and i like that its very open ended what happened to him so far? personally think he might've gotten killed or something after alice fainted at the racecourse, since his stuff was still in his room + Norton is very obviously his replacement at the end (him sitting in fred's chair). plus i think game participants only get replaced if they die, like what happened with servais replacing murro after he got killed by naib

I was REALLY hyped to see the secret medicine lab return from TOR!! and i like that alice used the same rat testing method detective did back then too lol. what really piqued my interest was realizing that when she starts hallucinating and runs away from fool's gold, it wouldn't make sense bc she wouldn't have met him until breakfast the next day. but then when you look at the figure who forced her to drink the drugs to knock her out, if u look close enough it's clearly Norton.

seems like he is working with orpheus at least to the degree that he knows what to do down in the lab by himself, which is interesting and explains why alice would hallucinate FG before actually being introduced to norton the next day.

also considering orpheus chloroformed alice while she was hallucinating before she woke up strapped to the chair and norton made her forget what happened, p much spells theyre working together imo?

overall i really like that this episode leaves you with just as many questions as it did answers (mainly about frederick) and im very curious how they explore melly and orpheus's ACTUAL involvement in the manor games, considering its p obvious theyre both lying to alice in the bedroom scene. have my thoughts on orpheus's actual deal w the forest ranger he mentions but this post is already long enough lol. i hope melly gets more spotlight next episode 🙏

#ask #anon #ashes of memory spoilers #ashes of memory episode 2 spoilers

68 notes · View notes

badbatchposts · 6 months

Text

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Ch. 3

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

Relevant tags: Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut (not for a few chapters still), Canon-Typical Violence

Chapters posted 1-2x weekly!

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2

Chapter 3 summary: The mysterious woman rescued by Crosshair comes to on the Marauder. Rather than interrogate why he decided to save her, Crosshair decides to antagonize her, because that's who he is.

“Hey, hey. Easy now.” Hunter appeased the woman like a wounded animal, crouching to her level, hands held out carefully in front of him. Crosshair rolled his eyes.

“I hardly think she needs consoling,” he intoned sibilantly. “She did take out four troopers on her own.”

“That you know of,” the woman muttered under her breath. “Where’s my gear?” she demanded, shifting herself into a seated position.

“Careful there. Hang on just a minute,” Hunter continued. Crosshair could barely stand it when Hunter was like this; gentle, cajoling, infantilizing. He didn’t see why the woman ought to be treated with kid gloves. “You’re hurt pretty bad,” the Sergeant continued. “Just rest up, and we can help you out. What’s your name?”

“Who’s asking?” The woman was defensive, distrustful. As she scanned the Marauder, Crosshair felt like he could see the gears turning behind her eyes, sizing them up. Wondering what she had gotten herself into, and how she could get herself out of it.

“I’m Hunter. That’s Tech, Echo, Wrecker, and Crosshair. We’re not going to hurt you. Crosshair said Imperials were after you, so he took you back to our ship.”

Tech, the most direct among them—with the possible exception of the sniper himself—got straight to the point. “How did you find yourself out there?”

The woman eased up a bit, but continued to be less-than-forthcoming. “I could ask you the same thing.”

The squad looked at one another. “We weren’t the ones crash-landing in a stolen shuttle,” Echo pointed out.

This time, the woman remained silent.

Hunter decided to take a different tactic, easing up on the interrogation. “Not too chatty, eh?” He chuckled.

“I’m sure I could find a way to get her to talk,” Crosshair interrupted suggestively, earning him a stern glance from his brother.

Hunter turned back to her. “Ignore him. Look, we get it. We’re not exactly friends of the Empire, either, and you never know who to trust. We’re on our way to Ord Mantell. It’s going to be a few hours, but there’s a spaceport there. Take some time to recover, and then you can be on your way.” He exited, taking the co-pilot’s chair in the cockpit alongside Echo.

Tech reached for her leg to continue treating her injuries, but the woman shrank back. He regarded her seriously from behind his goggles. “Your recovery will be significantly longer if you do not receive treatment,” he observed pointedly.

“Fine,” the woman grumbled, allowing him to take her leg into his hands and begin again. The blaster looked to have only grazed her calf, and soon Tech was sitting back.

“Please remove the clothing over your torso. I need to examine and wrap your ribs,” he requested politely. Crosshair raised an eyebrow, waiting to see the woman’s reaction. She began peeling off her poncho, unbuckling her holsters, finally unbuttoning her shirt to reveal a cropped band beneath, which exposed the flesh of her ribs and belly. She moved slowly, but not self-consciously, caring less about undressing in front of the men than about minimizing the pain. Crosshair took it in, his eyes raking over the fine line of her collarbone, the sweat dripping down to disappear between her breasts, her winces, the soft curves of her hip, the purple bruising that bloomed all over her torso. He noticed a small tattoo on her ribs, but the discoloration was too extreme for him to make out what it was. A puckering of the skin on her abdomen just to the right of her belly button provided evidence of earlier wounds, and he wondered hungrily what the scar would feel like under his fingertips. When he met her eyes, she was glaring; he returned the gaze with a raised brow, amused.

Her anger flickered, interrupted briefly by pain as Tech undertook his work. “What’s your problem?” she demanded.

“Just enjoying the show.”

“Please do not antagonize her, Crosshair,” his brother admonished. The sniper smirked, thinking that he wasn’t the only one a little bit pleased; Tech’s fingers seemed, to him, like they were dwelling a little unnecessarily long against the woman’s skin as he tucked the bandages into place.

A moment later, he was looking down the barrel of Tech’s sidearm. The woman had taken advantage of his brother’s focus on her injuries to unholster it from his hip. “Say that again,” she warned. She had a steely edge to her voice that thrilled him. He only smirked wider. The rest of the squad had already raised their own weapons in turn, a series of metallic clicks echoing from their various positions around the ship indicating that she was outnumbered. She lowered the blaster, slowly, and tossed it to the floor.

Tech retrieved it and stood, unbothered, as the rest of the squad returned to their tasks. This was not the first passenger aboard the Marauder to pull a gun on one of them, and the sniper deserved it a little. “Crosshair, she has a concussion. Keep her awake.”

“Oh, goody,” came his reply as his brother left them to it.

The woman pressed a palm to her forehead before running her hand through her long, silvery hair. There were some leaves tangled in it. He wondered idly if she’d try to break his fingers if he reached over and plucked them out. “Can I at least have my pack?” She sounded more exhausted than defeated, like she had simply run out of the energy to sustain herself.

Crosshair pulled her pack from the shelf where it had been stored behind him, rolling his toothpick between his lips from one side of his mouth to the other.

“Anything… dangerous… in here I should know about?” he asked, meeting her eyes.

“Dangerous?” Between the pain and exhaustion, the woman almost looked amused. “Not me. I avoid danger. Just trying to make a life in a nice, quiet corner of the galaxy.”

“I’m sure the hijacked Imperial shuttle was all a misunderstanding, then.” He glanced through the contents of her pack, removing a few knives before returning it to her. She didn’t take the bait, busying herself instead with dumping some of the contents of a leather pouch—what appeared to be dried leaves, giving off a grassy, bitter smell—into a mug that looked to be made out of a hollowed gourd. She heated a thermos of water with an auto-camp kit, poured some into the mug, and finally sipped the beverage through a filtered metal straw, leaning back against the wall with a sigh.

“Habit I picked up on Endor,” she replied to Crosshair’s raised eyebrow.

Tech was evidently still listening from the cockpit, nosy about their passenger. “There is no civilization on Endor,” he countered. “It is inhabited only by hostile primitives.”

“I’ve seen how civilization is defined in the Galactic Empire. I prefer to spend my time with the primitives.” Her tone was mostly even, but the sniper thought he heard traces of venom in her words.

Crosshair decided to take this cue to restart the interrogation. “Is that little… ideological disagreement… how you ended up shot?” She sipped at her tea impassively, meeting his eyes but refusing to take the bait again. He would have to go on needling her to get the reaction he wanted, poking and prodding to find the limits of her self-control.

He had liked that steely edge earlier, but that wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. Nor did he care about the determination—what had been on her face as she dove behind cover and exchanged fire with the troopers, what was still detectable in her expression now as she tamped down her emotions, waiting to reveal her hand until she could thoroughly evaluate the strangers she found herself at the mercy of.

What he wanted was to draw out the woman she’d shown him before she’d known he was watching through his scope: the rage, the frustration. The despair. The pain. And yes, that gentle glimmer on her face when she’d thought she was at her end, meeting her death not with fear, but the certainty—perhaps, even, the hope—that it had come time to let go. The real reason, which he would never tell his brothers, that he had decided not to let them kill her.

Next chapter

End Note: How many times do you think someone has pulled a gun on Crosshair because he was being a little shit? It feels like probably a lot.

#bad batch #clone force 99 #star wars #the bad batch #clone wars fanfiction #tbb season 3 #tbb hunter #clone trooper tech #tbb tech #tbb crosshair #tbb fanfiction

31 notes · View notes

druggeddraccus · 2 months

Text

i finished rereading way of kings in about 2 weeks. starting on WoR tonight while i’m at work.

and i definitely think in Wind & Truth that:

1) gavilar is gonna be our prologue POV

2) we will spend the whole book leading up to the duel of champions and the duel itself will be the prologue for books 6-10 (and if i’m right it’s gonna suck lol—cause what? he’s not planning to write another stormlight book for a good number of years right?)

i probably won’t read the chapters that TOR is releasing online especially because i’m rereading the whole series and i think id rather just wait till december

#brandon sanderson #stormlight archive #cosmere #wind and truth

16 notes · View notes

olympianroyals · 2 years

Text

- April 22nd, Friday (1 day before the funeral) -

Pandora sighs: Ever since I’ve been back here… I've been having the same dream over and over again.....

Pandora sighs: What does it mean? Why is this...creature..haunting me?

Meanwhile....Back at the Palace

???: Well don't you look like shit

Nikolaos couldn't help but laugh: Thanks Nico, I see the past years haven't changed you much. I have missed you truly

Nico: Bullshit, I guess that's all that bad karma coming back to bite you in your pale ass huh?

Neo: Nico!

Nico: What?

Nikolaos: It's quite alright Ms. Neo, I'm... quite use to Nicole and her wild antics.

Nico: Boi I know you did not just use my government name-

Neo cuts her off: She didn’t mean that Your Highness-

Nico: Yes I did. I wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t meant it Neapolitan since we’re using people governments now-

Neo: Ignore her. Still thank you so much for allowing us to stay here, you really didn't have to allow us into your home like this

Nico mumbles: I rather we had stayed in a motel. I don't want to owe these people any more than we already do

Nikolaos: It's really no problem, we have plenty of space for two more and I know the girls would love to see a familiar face around here.

Nico raises an eyebrow: Is that so? and how has my girls been exactly? Cause I find it real weird Pandora ain't been answering our phonecalls and how y’all got all this damn money and yet nobody paid their phone bill because why nobody picking up my damn calls-

Pandora: Aunite?

Neo: Hey baby girl

Pandora: Neo! You guys are really here!

Neo: Of course we’re really here!

Nico:….Panda…why do you look...

Pandora shakes her head: Please don't

Nico: like shit?

Pandora: it’s a long story Auntie,

Nico: We got time, you betta spill every drop of it. What happened?

Pandora: You have no idea how much I’ve missed you guys is what happened.

Later

Nico whispers: Hey Nik

Nikolaos: Yeah

Nico: As soon as we're done here, I'm knocking you the fuck out

Nikolaos sighs: Wouldnt be the first time. Are you gonna tell me why beforehand or are you just gonna attack out of the blue again? I just wanna know now so I can have a medic on standby for when my security take you out again

Nico fake laughs: When I sent my girls to you... you swore to me they would be in good hands and yet... somehow in the five hours I've been here, Daphne had not said one single word and Pandora has eyebags deeper than the motherfuckin canyon. Why do the both of them look like they've been fighting demons?

Nikolaos starts: Nico,

Nico cuts him off: Save it, I'm not interested in your excuses, just know that after the funeral, I'm taking the girls and were gone...for good.

Book 1: Chapter 1, Episode 17

|The Beginning of Chapter 1 | Previous Episode 16 | Next |

AN: whew the history these two have. They very much have a love hate relationship where it’s more hate than love but anyways we’re two posts away from the end of Chapter 1.

I have a few things planned before we jump into chapter 2, A new mini series and Olympian history lessons are in the works currently, I can’t wait to start sharing it with you all.

#sims 4 #sims 4 storytelling #sims 4 story #ts4 storytelling #ts4 story #sims 4 royal story #sims 4 royal legacy #sims 4 royal family #sims 4 black royals #the olympian royals #tor chapter 1

20 notes · View notes

pintsizeninja · 2 months

Text

Talented Voice (12869 words) by bleedingheartshow Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Alan Wake (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Odin Anderson/Thomas Zane, Odin Anderson & Tor Anderson & "Fat" Bob Balder, Thomas Zane/Barbara Jagger (mentioned) Characters: Odin Anderson, Tor Anderson, Fat Bob Balder, Thomas Zane Additional Tags: lots of moonshine and rock and roll, Implied Drug Use, Anal Sex, (young) old gods of asgard, 1970s Bright Falls, Explicit Sexual Content, Porn With Plot, Desk Sex, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Pre-Canon, Slow Burn, POV Multiple Series: Part 1 of To Madness and Beyond Summary: In 1971 the auteur filmmaker Thomas Zane commissions the newly-formed Old Gods of Asgard to create the soundtrack for his new movie. It's a collaboration for the ages, but there's one problem - Odin Anderson can't stop thinking about Thomas Zane.

I first posted this Odin Anderson/Thomas Zane fic back in February 2024. It was written on a whim and I had no idea it would spawn a 80,000+ word series with six planned fics featuring Odin, Zane, and the Old Gods of Asgard. I've decided to revisit this story to ensure it is a strong entry point to my series. I've heavily revised it and expanded the original two chapters, and I've added a prologue chapter that I hope fans of the series will enjoy. :)

I've written a total of 7500 words of additional content for this fic, so if you've already read it, I do hope you'll read it again! And if you're new to this series, this is the perfect time to dive in.

Read it here on Archive of Our Own.

A note on the banner - I definitely headcanon Odin looking a very specific way in the 1970s, and my lovely friend @rangerzath made this incredible banner showcasing Odin exactly how I see him (essentially, a younger Marko Saaresto.)

#alan wake 2 #alan wake #odin anderson #thomas zane #tor anderson #fat bob balder #old gods of asgard #odin anderson/thomas zane #pintsizeninja's writing #i may have completely rewritten the sex scene which is now 4000 words #so there is a lot of new Odin/Zane spice to enjoy!

15 notes · View notes

rayrayor · 6 months

Text

@gallavichthings Thank you for hosting the gift exchange

I totally did yet another fan girl geek out to be able to gift @whatthebodygraspsnot a story. It was double the fun as bottom Ian is a guilty pleasure of mine too.

I hope all the notes hit just right and it is a yummy little gift 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

Told from Mickey’s POV

Prompt/idea

Ian is feeling submissive and husband mickey takes very good, attentive care of him (ex. gently guiding him through a task doing something for him/talking sweetly to him) before gently domming him in their home (bottom Ian would be lovely, but tor Ian works too!) little extras to consider: sweet pet names, fingers in ian's mouth , fingers in ian's hair, mickey praising him, literally anything physically gentle/borderline babying <3 (not age piay ino). Ian can either be pouty or a perfect angel -

#gallavich #gge2024 #gallavich gift exchange #gallavich fanfic #bottom Ian Gallagher #shameless fanfiction #mickey x ian #mickey milkovich #ian and mickey #gallavich fic #ian gallagher #pet names #hair pulling #finger sucking #Gallavich husbands #Mickeys Dove #WhatTheBodyGraspsNot gift

18 notes · View notes

artemis-fowl-incident-report · 22 days

Text

Welcome to my throwback day contribution!

So I did a post a while back talking about what I would have done with the Fowl Twins books, and a subsequent chapter by chapter breakdown for the second book. And thus, as my throwback, I'm gonna break down what I would have done for "Deny all Charges" aka the third one.

(Just to preface, I never finished the third book. I dont know what Eoin was doing there, but I wanted no part of it)

Chapter 1

The Twins have recently turned 14. Following the trend of his character development from my version of book 2, Beckett has really come into his own, doubling down on his talent for engineering and languages, and is actively working on writing his first children's book (since he found that, with all his passion for the "Alien Pooping Boy" books, he might as well try writing all his ideas for himself). Beckett also keeps bees now, since he can talk with them, and bees are one of the only creatures that consent to their domestication by humans. Myles is as snarky as ever, but is a bit less vicious about it, since he's begun realising how hurtful some of his statements can be.

The boys are in Italy with their parents, visiting their Uncle Foxy and his boyfriend, one Giovanni Zito (because I said so). They're just discussing when Artemis will be returning from Mars when the boys get a message. The Crown of Frond they saved from the last book has been stolen from the Section 8 archives. The trail leads to Venice, so the boys head over to investigate.

They tail behind the fairy thief who they believe stole the item as they twist and turn through the city until they come to a church. Just as they get there, however, the building blows up. No one is hurt, but they can only assume their target is dead.

Chapter 2

As they're preparing to head home, Myles keeps fretting about the explosion. He goes over the security footage over and over, until he remembers that many churches have catacombs under them. He keeps researching until he comes across footage of their thief being whisked away by a boat that looks like an ACRONYM vestal.

Cut to their fairy nervously pacing around a safe house, wondering if the money was worth it- BLAM! Beckett knocks down the door. Between the two of them (and Whistle Blower, who they keep threatening to feed the fairy to) their thief confesses that he stole the crown for one Lord Teddy Bleedham-Drye. The only other information he has is that he's going to be attacking a fairy magical research lab on the Devon moors soon.

They leave him, wandering through the streets to where Lazuli parked the shuttle. Beckett wonders if Artemis will be back in time for this adventure, and how it would be fun for them to get to solve this problem together. Myles is less enthused, noting that Artemis would probably get himself killed with his lack of self preservation instincts.

Chapter 3

A few days later, Lazuli, Myles, and Beckett (with Whistle Blower in his backpack) scale the Devonshire Moors. Since the area is well known for its military training camps they deemed it best to go by foot.

Lazuli is doing rather well since the last book, discovering she was from a secret branch of the Frond royal family. She's practically been adopted by Lily Frond, since most of Lily's family isn't great and she always wanted a sister. They may only be distantly related, but its the only family Lazuli's ever had (my heart!)

The magical testing facility is disguised as a Tor (big piles of granite that jut from the moors surface). But its clearly been attacked recently, with chunks taken from the surface, revealing the buildings structure underneath.

They head inside, learning that all the scientists and engineers have been kidnapped, and one piece of tech stolen. A magic amplifier. It was originally being developed for No1, as a way for him to cast spells on mass like healing the Amazonian rainforests or large groups of people during emergencies.

As the Regrettables leave they find themselves surrounded by the British Army. They're about to be fired upon, when a bright light shines down upon them. A ship descends, and a familiar voice in their ear pieces telling them to cover their eyes. There's a brilliant flash of light, and the army men drop to the ground, dazed and mind wiped of the last hour.

The spaceship's pod descends and two people step out. Butler and Artemis.

Chapter 4

Everyone (except for Myles) is overjoyed to see Artemis. He and Butler are rushed down the Haven with the Regrettables, and tearfully reunite with their friends, before buckling down and getting to business. (yes, Artemis is most pleased to be back on earth because he gets to wear suits again. Go figure)

Myles does not appreciate being side-lined like this, being treated like a child as Artemis and the others take over the situation. (Beckett tries to point out that they are actually children, but it doesn't go well for him). Its actually Lily Frond who gives them the means to listen in on the situation, having the keys to the office connecting to the situation room.

Turns out the machine is missing one key element, a very rare crystal that draws in magical energy from its environment and stores it within itself. They decide to contact Minerva about it, but it will take a day or so, since she's still a smuggler in this story, but a more high quality smuggler (also, Artemis is Godfather to Minerva's daughter. Its so sweet). Myles convinces Beckett they need to go to Minerva themselves, for which they steal a pod and head for the surface. (They leave Lazuli behind since they want her to, you know, keep her job)

Not that Beckett doesn't like a good heist, but he's usually the impulsive of of the two. He doesn't understand where this grim determination has come from with his brother. When pressed on the subject, Myles simply points out they shouldn't be overlooked like this.

Chapter 5

They turn up in New Orleans, and Minerva is very confused, but agrees to help when the situation is explained. Turns out, she has just the rock they are looking for, and a large chunk of it at that. The Twins buy it off her (because they got that Fowl money, you know what I mean?) and decide to take it to a secure location so Teddy cant get his hands on it.

Teddy gets his hands on it. He attacks the boys as they're transporting the crystal. During his big Villain monologue, he reveals he wants to be King of England, and he will use the fairy people to do so. He does, however, accidentally mention that a certain "she" will demand her share as well.

The twins are pushed from the pod, but not before Myles accidentally manages to get hold of a baby chunk of the crystal. They fall into the Atlantic Ocean, being picked up by a fairy rescue vestal.

Chapter 6

Back at Villa Eco, the twins get scolded by their parents and Artemis. Beckett kind of accepts it, but Myles refuses to. He runs away, reflecting on how all of this has been an absolute mess, that maybe they really should have left it to Artemis and the others.

When he catches up to him, Artemis and Myles have a heart to heart. Myles admits that he used to idolise Artemis, that he thought his big brother could do anything. But then he got himself killed at the end of the Last Guardian. Worse than that, he got killed from information Myles supplied him with after being possessed. He wants to be an equal to his brother, he wants to be close to him, but he felt his death stronger than anyone else. And then, when Artemis came back, he headed off to Mars like an Interstellar hipster on a gap year trying to "find himself".

Artemis apologises, explaining that he'd lived his first life for other people for so long, being the genius, the heir, Artemis Fowl II, that he didn't really know who Artemis was away from those things. He just wanted to keep his family safe, even though he had no idea how to be anything but a stranger in said family. That he should have reflected more on how him and Beckett were affected, that he does see them as his equals, and that he's sorry.

They hug it out. Myles is crying, Artemis is crying (I'm crying!)

Chapter 7

Much like the Death Star, it turns out this magical amplifier has a very specific (plot contrived) flaw. The crystal at its heart is not only rare, but its very fragile. If shot through with the right frequency, it will shatter and explode, all the magical energy contained inside it bursting out in one shot. However, they don't know what that frequency is, since they would have to run tests on some of that specific crystal vein.

Myles is happy to announce that he has one of said crystals, but will only hand it over to the LEP if they agree to let him and Beckett help. Their parents try and argue against it, but finally (finally) realise that nothing will stop their sons if theirs something they want to do and so elect to come along and help.

They fly across to Isle of Scilly to meet up with the rest of the team. Lord Teddy's manor is a virtual fortress, guarded by the fairy scientists and engineers he had kidnapped from Devon. They're clearly being mind controlled, and they have anti shield goggles on, so there's no way they could attack the house by air.

They had, however, contacted the Hortenut Seven, through Mulch, to dig them in. While they face off against Teddy, the dwarves will disable the guards, in exchange for Artemis backing their political interests (he has quite a bit of sway with the People since his resurrection, being viewed more like a Hero than the monster he used to be).

Artemis Sr and Angeline are actually surprisingly good help navigating the halls of Childblain House (turns out Angeline used to be a cat-burglar and Tim was, you know, a former crime lord so that helps). They reach the grand hall where the machine has been set up, the crystal humming away menacingly.

They each separate into one of three teams. Team A, Myles, Fowl Sr, and Butler (who between them are lugging a large box). They will be dug around the back of the hall by Mulch through the garden. Team B, Angeline, Juliet, and Beckett move to various positions around darkened hall out of sight ready to snatch the crown at the first opportunity. And Team C, Holly and Lazuli, who are shielded in the rafters with their guns ready if something goes wrong. Foaly is also there, in spirit, or rather on tech support, using his little bug drones from the Last Guardian to keep eyes on everyone.

Taking a breath Artemis, now wearing a gloop tie and glasses, steps into the hall.

Chapter 8

Artemis tries shooting at Teddy, but misses, being tackled and chained down by fairy guards for his trouble. When Teddy comes closer to inspect the intruder, he's told that this is "Myles" come back from the future to stop him. The maddened Lord wholeheartedly believes this, and takes it as a sign of his future victory. Since, if he hadn't won, there would be no need for "Myles" to have been sent back.

The crystal is changed up. Teddy is monologuing, strolling up have the crown on his head hooked up to the machine, regal in his throne

BLAM

He's shot in the chest.

Teddy looks over, betrayed, as Sister Jeronima, or rather her corps puppeteered around by Opal's ghost emerges.

All the fairies are suddenly released from the crowns spell and try to run, only to freeze back in place as Opal puts the crown on her own head.

Of course she has a villain speech, and of course she knows its Artemis. She talks about how he's always been small and pathetic, with a mind that could once rule the world but no resolve to do so.

She gets her guards to round up all the various Fowl's, Butler's and others. She hooks herself up to the machine, ordering Holly and Lazuli to take aim at their friends.

BOOM!

The crystal explodes, the machine Myles had set up vibrating at just the right frequency to release the magic trapped inside. There's chaos, Opal trying to order her fairy minions as the humans all rush forward to get the crown. Angeline is actually the one to get Opal, punching her in the face with a war cry of "that's for what you've done to my sons!" as Whistle Blower tears Opal/Jeronima's ankles to shreds.

But not before Lazuli goes to take a shot at Artemis, with Myles pushing him out the way.

Chapter 9

Between the two of them, Holly and Lazuli manage to heal Myles, where he wakes up in his big brothers arms.

It ends with them all sitting on the beach eating ice cream, waiting for the LEP to come sort out the mess and take Opal into custody.

They give the crown to Lazuli to look after, who resolves to hide it just as her ancestor Darach wanted.

Artemis tells his brothers how truly proud he is of them, and how he hopes this is the Fowl's legacy. He called an old man by Beckett, and a simpletoon by Myles.

The end

(I have been writing since 3am and now it is 7am. Why do I do this to myself? I have no idea)

#artemis fowl #fowlfest2024

8 notes · View notes