The morning sickness doesn’t kick in till mid afternoon and Will finds himself on his knees in a bush with a body not ten feet away. He refuses anyone who comes up to touch him, still on edge from his morning with Hannibal.
How dare he?
He still can’t believe his alpha would even have such outdated ideas, let alone voice them, and his distress from learning that makes him not even want to return home.
But he has nowhere else to go.
He gets up, brushes off his knees, and heads back only to feel so many eyes on him he wants to bare his teeth.
“Are you alright, Will?”
He is not weak.
“I’m fine.”
This morning’s body is a beta whose killer is surely an alpha. Will had never felt more feral anger in all his life seeing a murder scene and it fills in his distress quite nicely.
“He’s an alpha,” he scoffs, “This man took something from him. A job, maybe? Something that he held dear but it’s not—”
“Wilbur Edwards,” Jack interrupts, “He works at the interstate. We’ll look into it.”
Will glares at him. “Can I finish?”
Bev reaches out to touch his shoulder. “Will, you ok?”
He pushes her back. “I was talking and Alpha Jack interrupted me. You want to do this yourself, Alpha? I am more than happy to let you take over.”
Jack’s angry scent fills his nose but Will knows the alpha is held back by his own. Alphas very rarely go after pregnant omegas but it’s not uncommon. Will suddenly hopes he does.
He is not weak.
“Carry on.”
Will looks at the body. “It’s not about this specific person. He wanted to show this weak little beta who was boss. He wanted them all to see he’s the alpha. THE Alpha. Maybe he works with all betas, I don’t know. I just know he wanted to be seen.”
“I’ll call the interstate. Everyone else, time for lunch.”
Jack leaves and Bev comes to his side. Will feels no comfort from her presence.
“You ok?”
“No,” he whispers, “No, I’m not.”
“What happened? Did Hannibal–”
“Hannibal acted just like all alphas and I….I won’t let anyone control me. Even if I’m pregnant.”
She puts her hand on his shoulder. “That asshole. What did he…?”
Will looks away from the body and lets out a breath. “He doesn’t want me to work,” Will mumbles, “He wants me barefoot and pregnant I guess? I don’t know.”
Bev is quiet for too long and Will looks at her. “What? You think that’s okay?”
“No, I just….you have the guy, Will. THE guy. I mean I can’t imagine living life as an omega in a sea of alphas but….Hannibal is a decent guy, right? Rich, handsome, and hot as fuck in bed?”
Will laughs. “What does that have to do with anything? He basically said I shouldn’t work. That he’d take care of me if I…shit.”
Bev pats his shoulder. “I mean it’s okay to freak out over asshole things us alphas say, but he didn’t exactly forbid you? It was just a suggestion?”
“Yeah,” Will sighs, “Hey, you think they need me anymore?”
She shakes her head. “No, probably not. Now go get your alpha. Merry Christmas.”
Will leaves after talking to Jack who seems happy to let him go for the day. “Merry Christmas, Will.”
Will nods. “Merry Christmas, Jack.”
He gets in his car and it starts to snow, light flakes that remind him of the night Hannibal and he met at Bev’s. That sad look on Hannibal’s face when he left is a memory Will doesn’t think he’ll ever forget.
The clock on his dash says it’s not yet eleven. He drives to the house and pulls into the garage. A sudden memory of doing that very thing mere days ago hits and Will wants his alpha with a desperation he hasn’t felt since their bonding. He gets out of his car and closes the garage door before he goes into the house.
Hannibal isn’t here he knows, the car would’ve been outside and his presence brings with it his scent. Will rushes up the stairs to their bedroom and takes Hannibal’s pillow, breathing him in.
He doesn’t know what to do.
Winston and Buster come in and climb on the bed. Will pulls them close and gathers the blankets all around him. The effect is better than before but still not enough. He gets up and finds more pillows in the closet, fancy silk things that feel nice against his skin. He throws them on the bed and then goes into the guest room for more blankets.
Still not enough.
He gets lost in the urge for more till he’s taken nearly every blanket and pillow in the entire house. The dogs get off the bed and bark for his attention but Will doesn’t hear them. He presses Hannibal’s pillow to his face and falls asleep.
how to know if tumblr has been eating your asks: send yourself anywhere between 5-10 asks, ( anon or not ) but have each ask be nothing but an order in which you sent them.
i.e: the first ask says ‘1′, the second says ‘2′, etc etc.
i sent myself ten of these, both on anon and not. This was all i received back:
Tumblr is now eating asks along with notifications. We must be more interactive than ever if we want keep this form of entertainment we call the rpc. Go ahead and warn your friends or test this for yourselves.. This post is reblogable.
I just sent myself five of these. none of them came through.
Incorrect.
An ask with a single character in it will not send. It gets marked as spam.
There is not currently any known problem (beyond, you know, the usual) with the messaging system.
writing is weird because sometimes I’ll have no ideas and everything in my head is kind of quiet but then something will happen and it’s like there’s these goblins living in my brain that just start shouting little phrases at me until I sit down and finally write the poem or story or whatever
ancient greek and roman poets: sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story
me, banging pots and pans together: wake the fuck up goblins!! what the fuck is up!!
(Just a tool that might help clean up your writing and create a faster paced reading experience.)
Removing excess words. If you don’t need particular words, why keep them?
Another crashing wave sends me into a sprawl, and I’m forced to use my tides a few more times to distance myself from the rocks.
I should drop down as deep[er] as I can manage [and] use the reef for cover.
I can’t tear my eyes away until he disappears fully from view.
A burst of lightning shows the outline[s] of the cliff side.
A loud thud from the port window makes me jump, drawing my full attention. -> I jump at a loud thud from the port window.
Showing instead of telling. Making the reader feel what the protagonist feels is almost always better than telling them the protagonist is undergoing something.
I can’t believe the sight I see. -> My lungs catch painfully, a shocked squeak rising out.
Everything is slick and wet. -> The slick metal offers no hold for my wet hands. I clench my fingers until the ridges bite into my scales, shark teeth holding me in place. Agonizing.
Removing passive voice. Active voice is more engaging and should be always be used unless you have a specific reason not to use it for that sentence.
The rock is a muddled, dark brown, and I almost miss him amid the lofty coastline. -> I almost miss him against the muddled, dark brown rock, his body tiny amid the lofty coastline.
Her voice is strained and furious. -> Fury strains her voice.
The wound is closed again, but before it closed, enough blood seeped out that I now feel woozy and off kilter. -> The wound closed while I slept, but enough blood seeped out that my head still spin, my limbs heavy.
Always remember though: you have to do what works best for that particular moment. Some scenes require different strokes than others. Use your best judgement, and take pride in your personal writing style.
[Image Description: Tags reading “dirtiest huggiest handholdingiest feeling jammiest pale smut ever conceived, if you are caught reading this change the tab to porn”]
The AO3 Tag of the Day is: I’m not ashamed of fluff
Mostly reblogs and random words 