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sparklypinkflightsuit · 3 months

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Star Crossed: Chapter Five

Pairing: Detective David Loki x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Cheating, Intimacy Issues, Slow Burn, Sexual Themes, Smut, Investigative Inaccuracies. I think that’s it?

Summary: Loki can’t keep himself away from you.

- Chapter Four Here -

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18+ only beyond this point

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The next few days, Loki promised himself he would try to keep away from you, and threw himself into his work.

The day after he spent the evening with you, he went to the golf course to question Melanie. She admitted to the emails, saying how Carter was this attractive older man who frequented the golf course, they struck up a relationship but it quickly faded and he stopped coming around. She said she hadn’t seen him in a few weeks and they’d ended things on sour terms.

Loki thanked Melanie and said he’d be in touch if he needed anything else.

He spent a few days trying to track down the women in the photos using Rodger’s facial recognition technology, and interviewed the few he could find, all of whom admitted to having a brief sexual relationship with Carter, but none knowing where he was or having seen him in some time.

Loki was quickly growing frustrated at the constant dead ends, and even more so that he hadn’t seen you in a few days.

Just as Loki was about to give up for the day and go home, he got a call from the forensics team leader, Marco.

“Marco, what have you found, give me some good news.” Loki asked, hopefully.

“Hey boss, we found three sets of prints in the vehicle. One is the fiancés, one we can only assume is Carters and the third belongs to a Mrs Taylor Johnson. She was booked in 3 years ago for shoplifting, nothing since then, but the address we have listed is 92 Fitzpatrick Way, might be worth checking there.” He confirmed.

“Marco, you’re the man. Thank you.” Loki hung up and left the station, he knew it was late but he had to follow this lead, as it was the only solid one he had in a while.

He drove the 20 minutes to 92 Fitzpatrick Way and pulled up outside the house. The lights were on inside and he could hear a man’s voice bellowing. “What did I fucking tell you about that goddamn console. Turn it off and come and eat your dinner!” The stern voice echoed.

“Fuckin’ A.” Loki sighed to himself, he knew this would be an awkward conversation.

He knocked sharply and heard the voice say “Who the fuck?” Before the door flew open. An angry man with a red face in a white tank top stood in the doorway.

“Can I help you?” He said.

Loki smiled and pulled out his badge, “Hello sir, I’m Detective David Loki from the Conyers Police Department, I’m hoping to speak to Mrs Taylor Johnson, does she still live here?”

“Yeah she still lives here. What’s this about?” The man asked angrily.

“We’re conducting a missing persons investigation sir, and we think she may be connected somehow. We have to rule out all possibilities. May I speak to her?”

“She’s not home right now, she went to visit her mothers for a few days.” He said, his anger calming down somewhat.

“Do you know when she will be back?” Loki asked.

“She didn’t say. Would you like me to call you when she’s back, Detective?” The man offered.

“Please.” Loki handed him his card. “Thank you sir, have a good rest of your evening.”

Loki left feeling slightly deflated, but at least this was something.

He went home and spent the night frustrated and bored, unable to take his mind off of you.

He thought about how your eyes lit up when you laughed, how you bit your lip when you were worried or nervous. Loki felt himself growing hard thinking about you biting your lip, and how good you felt against him when he kissed you. His breathing shuddered and his heart rate sped up as he tried to push the thoughts away, palming himself once over his trousers to relieve some of tension before he stood up and went to take a shower, hoping that would help.

Forcing himself to sleep that night was difficult, and when he eventually did, his dreams were plagued with you and Carter, happy together again, and Loki being discarded into the background. He woke up sweating the next morning, his mood worse than usual.

Loki went to work and tried to find what he could on Mrs Taylor Johnson.

He found that she was 25, married young and had 3 children with her husband, the man he had met yesterday. Her mother lived about an hour away in the next town and Loki had managed to find an address.

He drove to the little town and parked outside Mrs Johnson’s mothers house.

He knocked on the door and a woman opened it, looking surprised to see him.

“Hello ma’am, I’m looking for Taylor Johnson, her husband told me I might find her here?” Loki said, holding up his badge.

“Oh, she isn’t here. Is she missing?” Her mother asked, not overly surprised.

“No, no. Probably just a misunderstanding. Sorry to worry you ma’am.” He grunted and was about to walk away when she called him back.

“Officer! She might be with her boyfriend. I’m not sure how much her husband told you, but she’s been seeing someone else.” She said, looking ashamed for spilling her daughters secret.

“Do you know the boyfriends name, ma’am?” He asked, hands in his pockets as he turned around to face her.

“Yes sir, his name is Carter, can’t recall the last name.” She nodded.

“Thank you ma’am. That’s all I need for now. Have a good day.”

Climbing back into his car he sighed heavily. Still no sign of either of them but now at least he had a solid lead. Find Taylor and he’d find Carter.

Loki made the drive back to Conyers, his mind plagued with the idea that he’d lose you the moment he found Carter, but he knew he had a duty to uphold and had to do everything in power to find him. His mind raced and he kept thinking about the dream he had, we’re you were in Carters arms instead of his. Loki realised that was not something he was willing to deal with, so instead of heading to the station, he drove to your house.

He quickly closed the distance to your front door and knocked impatiently, blinking hard a few times.

You threw the door open, surprised to see Loki standing there.

“David-“ Loki grabbed you in his arms, pressing his lips against yours hungrily. You gripped his shirt in your fists and pulled him inside. Loki pushed the front door shut without breaking the kiss and pushed you up against the wall, a sudden desperation taking over.

He grabbed you by the back of your thighs and lifted you up so you could wrap your legs around him as he pinned you to the wall. His lips moved to your neck and he sucked marks into your skin. He groaned as his body moulded into yours against the cold living room wall. “David..” you whimpered.

“Hmmm?” He grunted, still kissing your neck.

“What happened to waiting?” You breathed, head thrown back against the wall as you savoured his lips against your jugular.

“Couldn’t stay away. Need you.” He mumbled, moving his lips back to yours. Your lips moved together passionately, as Loki ground his hips into yours.

Loki pushed harder against you to pin you up against the wall while he discarded his jacket and unbutton his shirt. You pushed his hands out of the way and took over unbuttoning for him. While you did this Loki lifted your dress up over your hips and tore the sides of your underwear so he could discard them. You gasped in surprise as you felt Loki’s hand on your bare ass, massaging you with strong fingers. You finished unbuttoning his shirt and tried to remove it, getting as far as his shoulders. Loki pulled the shirt off of his arms, leaving him bare chested in front of you.

You took a moment to admire him, his broad shoulders and toned muscles, how his chest was slightly hairy and how ruggedly handsome he looked, his eyes dark with lust.

Loki stared back at you in the same way, admiring how flushed and beautiful you looked, your pupils blown and panting against the wall.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, leaning his forehead on yours.

“Don’t you dare.” You rasped. This spurred Loki on even more, and he pulled your dress up over your head and threw it on the floor. He kissed your neck and collarbone and made quick work of removing your bra. His left hand held you up by your ass and his right hand came up to palm your breast gently. You moaned loudly at the contact, and Loki connected his lips to yours again.

You snuck your arms inbetween your bodies and began to unbuckle and unzip his trousers, tucking them down as far as you could reach. Loki removed his hand from your breast to remove his trousers completely, and then kicked his underwear off.

You were both completely naked now, and completely vulnerable. Loki took a moment to admire you and gave you one last kiss before he put you back down on the ground.

“What are you doing?” You whined, hoping he hadn’t changed his mind.

He silently took one small step back, eyes never leaving yours, and sunk to his knees.

“Oh my god.” You breathed, not sure if you were ready for what was about to happen.

His big hands traced from your stomach down to your thighs and he pushed them apart slightly. He placed gentle kisses to your core before flattening his tongue against you and lapping up your growing wetness. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder.

“David, Jesus… where did you learn to do this?” You moaned.

He chuckled softly into you sending vibrations through your body, you gasped loudly. He continued this for several minutes before you gently tugged on his hair, pulling him away and to his feet.

“I need you.” You panted, “do you have any.. you know?”

David frowned, “No, spur of the moment kind of thing and it’s been a while.” He admitted, standing in front of you as he peppered kisses along your neck and face.

“Ok, I’m clean, and I’m still on the pill, if you want to-“ you were cut off by Loki scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to the bedroom. He laid you down gently on the bed, his demeanour changing from rough and desperate to gentle and loving. He took each movement slowly, making eye contact with you where possible.

He climbed on top of you and cupped your cheek gently. “Are you sure?” He asked. You nodded. Loki gently spread your legs and positioned himself. Slowly, inch by inch, he pushed himself into you, moaning softly as he did so. The arm propping himself up over you, bulging and veiny, turning you on even more. The stretch of him fully seated inside you caused you to moan loudly. Loki gave you a worried look but you smiled back at him and encouraged him to move.

He slowly pulled out and back in again, finding a rhythm. His free hand wandered your naked body, memorising your curves and how soft your skin felt. His eyes didn’t leave yours until he began to pick up speed.

Your legs wrapped around his waist and you began your own rhythm, bucking into him. Loki kissed your neck and collarbone in an effort to stifle his moans and grunts. You felt so good to him, not just how tight you felt around him but just being in your presence felt good. Loki hadn’t felt this good in years, and the realisation that popped into his head caused him to slow to a stop, leaning back to look at you.

“Are you okay?” You panted, stroking his messy hair back out of his eyes.

He was quiet for a moment while he looked into your eyes, hesitant. “Y-yeah, I’m fine.” He blinked hard.

You were now worried, so you pushed him off of you and onto his back, you leaned over him propping yourself up on your arm.

“No you’re not. What’s wrong?” You asked, brows furrowed.

He chucked sweetly at you and thought it was adorable that you worried about him. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I promise I’m fine, you just take my breath away, that’s all.” He lied.

You smiled down at him and pecked his lips.

You and Loki continue until you were both spent, and you lay in each others arms in the afternoon sun. You both felt amazing in that moment and all the other worries seemed worlds away from you now. But the reality of it was that your fiancé was out there somewhere and you still had to deal with that, and Loki was still the lead detective on this case, and he was falling in love with you. So no, he was not fine.

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- Final Chapter Here -

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little-miss-moonstone · 5 months

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The Red Thread (Carmy x OC)

Chapter Three | The Phone Call

Next | Previous | Series Master List

Summary: Carmy comes over for dinner.

WARNING: bad language, anxiety, flashbacks?, little editing. idk what else.. you know the drill, let me know if i missed anything :)

2019

Rori danced around her new apartment putting away items from the few moving boxes she had left. It had always been a dream of hers to live in New York City, and now that was her reality. To her, life seemed like it couldn’t get any better, she had her new apartment, she was halfway through writing a book she knew was a masterpiece, and she and Carmy were now living in the same city, again. And the most exciting part of all of that, to her, was that Carmy had no clue she had even moved to the city, only a few blocks from him. She almost wanted to run over to his apartment and surprise him, but she knew he would be calling her in only a few minutes, and thought of how nice it would be to hear the happiness in his voice. As if he knew she was thinking of him, her phone began to ring. She killed the music and dashed over to her phone.

“Hey,” she smiled, pressing the phone to her ear as she made her way to sit by the window that looked out at the city.

“Hey, what are you up to?” He asked, sitting on his fire escape and smoking a cigarette.

“Nothing really, just waiting for your call. How was work, or do you not wanna talk about it?” She replied, waiting for the right moment to share her good news.

“No, it was the same. I, uh, was thinking about fishmas this morning,” He shared before taking a drag.

“Bear, that was, uh, an interesting night for everyone. I’m okay and you’re okay, we made it out. That’s all we can focus on. Donna is, well, Donna, and I don’t know what got into Mikey, but from what Richie tells me he’s okay,” She tried to comfort him and it did help, but that wasn’t what he was referring to.

“Yeah, I know. I was thinking about our talk, outside. You never finished what you had to tell me,” He reminded. It had been driving him crazy for the last 7 months, but he hadn’t dared to bring it up. Rori froze on the other end of the phone. Her mind went back to that night, a night she had tried so hard to forget, especially what he was now asking about. She could lie, say she forgot, or she could take a chance and tell the truth. Her mind combed through all the moments from their teens and early 20s, the brushing of fingers, the glances across rooms, the tension, and flirtatious undertones.

“Uh, yeah, umm. I don’t know if it’s really all that important anymore,” She spoke in a shy demeanor, this was something Carmy easily picked up on.

“Come on, Rori. It’s you and me, you can tell me anything,” He promised, just as he always had. The caring nature of his voice made her fold like a piece of paper.

“Carmy, I-I want to tell you, and I’ve wanted to for a while I just don’t know how. You and I, we’re solid, and this might change that,” She explained.

He knew what she had to say. It was what he had wanted to say for years, but the thought of it all going wrong had silenced him. He couldn’t stand the thought of her leaving him and he knew it would happen. He couldn’t give her the love she deserved. The words “You are nothing” began to ring through his mind.

“Tell me,” were the only words he could get out.

“I’m in love with you. I have been since we were kids,” She confirmed. They were both quiet, neither of them wanting to speak, but as the seconds passed by her anxiety began to take over. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. It was stupid, God, just- we can forget about it, right? Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“It’s o-okay, uh, we- we can just- uh, we can talk tomorrow,” He replied. This was his way out.

“Okay, uh, I’ll talk to you then,” She replied before she hung up the phone. She stared out at the city as tears slipped down her face, she knew deep down they would never be the same.

Present Day (2022)

Rori was preparing dinner, she didn’t know if Carmen would even be hungry but she couldn’t help to think how nice it would be to cook for him. She was making a classic carbonara, something they both grew up eating. She was stirring the egg yolks rapidly when she heard the knock on her door.

“Just come in, Carmy!” She yelled from the kitchen, while she continued to stir.

He was shocked her front door was unlocked, this was Chicago after all. What if it hadn’t been him at the door and some maniac had just barged in? He locked the door behind him, finding his way to her kitchen easily, as he followed the delicious smell. He found her in front of the stove, her back to him as he took his surroundings in.

“Y’know, it’s really unsafe for you to leave your front door unlocked,” He got her attention, as she turned the heat off and began plating.

“I know, but I knew you would be here soon, and had I come to the door we would’ve had noodles and scrambled eggs,” She informed while she plated the food. “I didn’t know if you had eaten yet or at all today, but don’t feel like you have to.”

“No, no. I haven’t,” He assured, “This looks great. Is this your mom’s recipe or my mom’s?” He asked, bringing his plate closer to inspect.

“Your mom’s. I prefer her sauce,” She gave a soft smile, “Uhh, let me get you something to drink, I have water, wine, or whiskey.” She turned to the cabinet where she kept the glasses.

He chuckled at the options, “Water is fine.”

She quickly got him and herself a glass of water, while directing him where to get forks, and then they switched out items. It was for a brief second they both felt a moment of domestication like he had come home from work to her cooking dinner. They both shrugged the thought from their minds, taking a bite, and letting the dish take over.

“Wow. Don’t tell her, but this might be better than mom’s,” He smiled. He was being genuine and she knew that, returning the smile.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of telling her that. She would kill me, then you,” She chuckled. There was a brief moment of silence before she spoke, again, “I haven’t talked to her since Mikey, I, uh, figured I would just give her some space. I actually haven’t even told my parents I moved back, either. I- well, that situation hasn’t changed in the last 3 years. I, uh, well, my mom’s like your mom, and my dad is…”

“M.I.A.,” He finished her sentence. His mouth continued before his mind could catch up. “Have you spoken to him since that night?”

“No, I don’t think I can. He just left so easily, like I was nothing to him. I’m worth more than that. I miss him, though, the old him. I think about that version of him a lot. How he used to take us for ice cream, or how he and your dad would joke abo-“ she stopped herself, “while we played in the yard, or whatever.”

They continued eating through casual conversation and when they were done she rinsed their plates and left them in the sink to wash later. He moved into her living room looking around at the pictures on the mantle. One of Rori and Mikey from what had to be only a couple of years ago, one of her and Sugar from her first book signing, one of her holding Eva the day she was born, and lastly, one of the two of them from Fishmas, it was different from the one he had of them. In this one they were both smiling, only she was looking at the camera and he was looking at her. He remembered that moment, it was just after the picture he had was taken.

“We won’t have another Christmas like that, I fear,” She joked while taking a seat on her couch. He let out a soft chuckle before taking the seat opposite of her.

“I guess, we should talk about the elephant in the room,” She suggested and the atmosphere changed back to between comfortable and awkward, and Carmy couldn’t stand it.

“Honestly, this is all my fault. I-I, well you know how I am, I push people away. You gave me an opportunity to push you away that night and I took it. I know it was a dickhead move and I’m really sorry. I completely understand if you can’t forgive me, we can just carry on and I won’t bother you at al-“ He was cut off.

“I forgive you.”

He sat there for a moment trying to process the words that had come out of her mouth. How could she forgive him that easily, after he had completely cut her out of his life? She couldn’t even forgive her father for basically doing the same thing.

“You forgive me?” He repeated, not quite believing it only took an apology and his idiotic rambling.

“I forgive you. Carmy, all I ever wanted was an apology and a fucking explanation. You just gave me both. I want us to start fresh, well, like from before that night. I know it’ll probably take some time for us to get back to that, but I’m willing to give it a shot. If you are,” She replied and he smiled at her forgiving nature. He was about to agree, but she continued, “On one condition.” He nodded, almost begging her to speak, he would do anything to ensure she was back in his life like she was before.

“If you ever think you can pull some bullshit like that on me, again. I swear to God, Carmy, I will beat your ass. You don’t get to push me, of all people, away,” She was firm and yet, gentle and he couldn’t help to admire that.

He nodded, “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

From there the two fell into a comfortable conversation catching up on the last few years and then reminiscing on their youth. She was in the middle of telling him a story about a night out she had in London last year and he couldn’t help to think of how lucky he was to be sitting in her home with her, while she seemed to be enjoying his presence. He felt almost whole for the first time in years, and he knew it was her that had been missing.

It was late when Carmy left, both of them so caught up in conversation that it would be a rough day running on little sleep. Sugar beating on Rori’s front door didn’t help as she jolted awake to see it was 6:45 in the morning. Rori opened the door in her sweatshirt and shorts she had slept in, along with bedhead, and an unamused look on her face.

“Good morning, Sunshine. How was your dinner date with Carmy?” Sugar smiled pushing past Rori into the house.

“Oh, fuck off. You woke me up to be nosy? You couldn’t just call me at lunchtime?” Rori huffed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Did he sleep here? Oh my god, is he in your room?” She asked, quieting her voice and throwing Rori for a loop. The girl felt like her brain had short-circuited at the thought of Carmen staying over, much less in her bed.

“What? No, he did not sleep here,” Rori got defensive.

“Oh, I drove by at 10:30 last night and I saw his car was still here, s-“

“You did what!? Sugar, I cannot believe you were stalking us,” Rori sighed, rubbing her hands over her face in frustration. “Okay, I’m going to give you a summary of the night and then you're going to get the hell out of my house, and then I’ll give you a call when I’m not as angry as I am right now, okay?” When Sugar nodded, she continued, “He came over, we had dinner, he apologized, and I forgave him. Goodbye,” Rori finished guiding her friend outside. She shut the door, and locked it, leaving Sugar on her front porch while she returned to bed.

Only now that she was lying in bed, she was wide awake. Fucking Berzatto’s, she thought to herself as she leaned over grabbing her laptop from her nightstand. She sat up to work on the squeal she promised her publisher would be done by the end of the year. In her defense, she had half of the year left, but she also had only written a few chapters. She opened her notes and began mapping out the rest of the story.

Carmy had already been at the restaurant for a couple of hours, his mind not allowing him much sleep. When Sydney arrived at the restaurant she noticed that he was in the best mood she had ever seen him in, her first thought was he got laid, but she couldn’t imagine he was into hookups and she knew he wasn’t in a relationship. She began her prep while trying to figure out if she should ask, or just enjoy a happy Carmy for once. She let it go knowing Richie would ask, but when he arrived he didn’t. He did notice, and he wanted to ask, but the fact that it could have something to do with Rori made him bite his tongue, that was until she stopped by the restaurant just in time for family. While she was formally introducing herself to Sydney and signing her copy of “The Red Thread”, Richie decided to take this opportunity to question Carmy.

“Yo, Cousin,” He said, getting the younger man’s attention, “This whole “Mr. Nice guy” thing doesn’t have anything to do with Rori Bear, does it?”

Carmy almost smiled at the nickname he hadn’t heard in year, but he caught himself. “Uh, I don’t know. I went to her house last night, we, uh,” Richie seemed extremely hopeful in that moment, “talked about- I apologized. Um, we’re just kind of starting over from where we left off.” He explained, and while that was still great news, Richie was hoping there was more.

“You just apologized?” He asked, “You guys just talked like that’s all?” Carmy could tell what he was implying and it reminded him of the talks he used to get from him and Mikey.

“Cousin, stop. We’re not doing this. Rori and I are back at a place where we actually talk to each other and she doesn’t seem to be freaking out about being in the same room as me. So we’re going to leave it right there, okay? I don’t need you putting all that bullshit in my head like you and Mikey used to.” He assured.

“Bullshit? Cousin, are you fucking stupid?” Richie questioned.

“Yo. I just said we're not fucking doing this. Go take your seat for family,” Carmen ordered.

Rori sat in between Carmy and Richie at the table, Tina was quick to start up a conversation with the girl having not seen her in a few years. Rori could feel Carmy briefly tense up when her time working at The Beef came up, and it didn’t help when Richie joined in. She tried steering the conversation to a new topic knowing Carmy would ask about her time at the restaurant. She thought he might forget if the topic changed a few times. Sydney started gushing over her book and trying to get any information about the sequel.

“I mean Rose and Cameron have to end up together, right? Like they can’t be that oblivious, especially when everyone around them is constantly telling them,” Sydney explained. Carmy turned to listen, wanting more details of the book he hadn’t read yet.

“You would be surprised. I know some real stubborn motherfuckers, who make Rose and Cam look normal,” Richie entered the conversation.

“Cousin, quit acting like you read it,” Carmy let out a small laugh.

“I did fucking read it, all 319 pages! And let me tell you Cameron’s a real jagoff. How can he be so in love with Rose and then do fuck all about it, and then be miserable? Stupid rat does it to himself,” Richie remarked, jolting up from his chair.

“Okay, Richie. It’s fictional, let's not lose our heads,” Rori guided him back down to his chair. “Guys, I’m going to be honest. I’ve only written a few chapters of the next book, and I have no clue yet whether they are going to end up together or not in the end, but even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. You’ll just have to find out when I send your copies,” She smiled, returning to her food.

When family wrapped up, Carmy was quick to step out back for a smoke break, learning that Rori worked at the restaurant, and all the talk about a book he felt guilty for not reading, was taking up his mind. He wasn’t expecting her to come join him, she had never cared for the smell of cigarette smoke, so when she asked for a drag, he was completely caught off guard. He studied her face trying to pick up on any subtle hints as to if she was joking and when she furrowed her brows in confusion, he knew she was serious. He cautiously handed it over watching to see if she inhaled when she took a drag.

“When did you start smoking? You hated it when we were kids,” He asked, leaning back on the brick wall. He could tell she was reading him like a book with his cigarette between her lips, and he hated how much he adored it and how jealous he was of a fucking cigarette.

“Like 3 years ago. I thought it would help with the stress and anxiety. News flash, it fucking doesn’t. I don’t allow myself to smoke all the time, but with this next book, I might become a chain smoker,” She gave a small giggle and handed him back the nicotine stick.

“When did you work here?” He asked before he could stop himself.

“Pandemic. I moved back temporarily and Mikey needed help, and I had writer's block so I figured “What the hell”. It wasn’t long, maybe a few months. I, uh, do you know who Nico is?” She wondered, not wanting to snitch on Mikey. When Carmy nodded she continued, “I caught them, Mikey and Richie, they were back here in the alley dealing. I was pissed, Mikey and I got into this huge fight, mostly over the coke. He told me I couldn’t work here anymore, he didn’t want me around his “bullshit” because I had made something of myself,” She paused again, “He felt the same way about you.”

It was silent, both of them just looking at each other as he passed the cigarette back to her. It was comfortable, but only for a second. Carmy couldn’t figure out if they were the same people they were three years ago, there was still so much he didn’t know about her. He was relatively the same, but it was as if she had lived a thousand different lives.

“Where were you living before the pandemic, and before now?” He didn’t want her to feel like it was an interrogation, but he was just so curious. He noticed her slightly tense up and for a moment he regretted even asking, but that was only until he heard her mutter the words, “New York City.”

“You were in New York?” There was a mix of emotions behind his words, he wasn’t even sure what he felt in that moment. Was he upset, confused, or was he angry?

“Yeah, I moved there the day of the phone call. I was going to tell you, but I didn’t really get the chance. I’ve been there for the last three years. A few blocks from Madison Park,” She confirmed.

Carmen felt like an even bigger dickhead at that moment. All he could think about was the fact that he threw away what could’ve been the best years of their lives. What if, instead of pushing her away that night, he pulled her closer? He thought of all they could’ve done together in the city away from this breeding ground of family trauma and anxiety, they could’ve been so happy… together.

A/N: I’m so sorry for the delay. I got caught up with my birthday this past weekend, work, and registering for classes because i decided to go back to school.. not to mention the fucking Calvin Klein ad and the golden globes. Ugh, anyways, I hope you’re enjoying so far and hopefully another chapter will be out soon!!

#the bear #carmy berzatto #camry x oc #carmen berzatto #carmy angst #carmy the bear #jeremy allen white

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minervadashwood · 2 years

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Scars and Stitches, Chapter 20: Walkers in the Closet Daryl X PlusSize!Reader (she/her)

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Series Masterlist | Daryl x Reader Masterlist

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Chapter Summary: Glenn finally tells the group about the barn. Includes canon divergence :) Word Count: 2,500 Chapter Warnings: : Sexist and anti-fat language, fighting.

Note: This will likely be my last Thursday update. I'm headed back to work this month, and I won't have as much time to write. I plan to update at least by every Tuesday. Thanks for your patience!

Divider by @firefly-graphics.

The next morning, Daryl woke you up, and not just to say goodbye.

You smiled at him, still groggy from sleep, and he said, “Goin’ huntin’. You wanna come?”

Despite your early morning sleepiness, you grinned widely. “Really?!”

He chuckled. “Yeah. You can wait at the camp, and I can teach you to skin whatever I get.”

You sat up on the bed. “Are you sure about this? Don’t you enjoy your time alone?”

Daryl glanced at his feet before saying, “I miss ya. Be nice to spend the mornin’ with you, like we been.”

You nodded, and Daryl helped you from the bed. He put one hand at the small of your back, and the other on your jaw. He looked into your eyes for silent permission, which you gave, and he kissed you heartily. You leaned into him, all of your curves pressed against his solid wall of muscle, whimpering as he worked his tongue past your lips. You threw your arms around him and clutched his tank top.

Daryl pulled away all too soon, but he gazed down at you with such gentle eyes, they pierced right through you. When he looked at you like that, you felt, strong, beautiful, and loved. Not that you or Daryl had ever called this love. But you knew he cared for you. Even if the words never came, he showed you in other ways.

After you briefly parted each other’s company to dress for the day, the two of you left the farm just as the sun was rising.

For the next few hours, you trudged after Daryl, carefully following in his literal footsteps to make as little noise as possible. Along the way, he picked fruits and berries for breakfast. He even found a wildflower that complemented your eye color and tucked it behind your ear. He was quiet for most of the journey, and you didn’t mind. It was only an hour into the hike that you even felt awake enough to have a coherent thought of your own. Following Daryl, with the sounds of the forest the only noise around you, was such a lovely change of pace, especially after yesterday. Your walk was leisurely, filled with breaks and and whispered conversations, which were mainly Daryl pointing out trees and clusters of roots that you could use as landmarks.

For the next few days, every morning was like this. He went hunting on his own, while you continued to clean up the hunting camp a little each day. You did end up learning about gutting and skinning squirrels, as well as other small game. His lessons helped you improve your dexterity with your knife and bolstered your understanding of anatomy.

Then one afternoon, you and Daryl returned to the farm just in time to hear Glenn tell everyone the Greene family’s secret.

Walkers. In the barn. Not even thirty yards from where you slept, night after night. It was like living next door do a minefield. You looked around for Rick, but he didn’t seem to be there. It was the worst possible time for him to be off with Hershel.

Glenn’s confession had half the group shocked into a stupor, while the other half—led by Shane—was scrambling to deal with the new threat. Shane lugged around the bag of guns, handing them out to everyone. Andrea got a handgun, Glenn a rifle, Daryl a shotgun. As soon as each of them were armed, they began forming a firing line in front of the barn doors.

Dale and Lori were both shouting for Shane to stop, but he ignored them and headed for you, where you stood next to the clothesline. He shoved the gun you’d practiced with into your hand. Unlike the others, you didn’t move. You watched, frozen, even as Lori, Carol and the kids sought safety on the porch of the farm house.

A few weeks ago, your place would be with them, but the gun in your hand made clear your new role in the group.

Still, you didn’t follow Shane. Not even Daryl’s beckoning you to his side could move you from your spot. Everything about this was wrong. Shane should wait for Rick, or at least Hershel, before doing this. Not even Maggie, the Greene closest to your group, was here to approve.

You weren’t against taking down the walkers, but you were against this chaotic way of doing it. Hell, the barn was padlocked, and Hershel probably had the only key. If only they would wait, Daryl and Glenn could set up better defenses, perhaps even a trap to make it safe to kill the walkers one by one. It would save ammunition and be much quieter.

You lurched from your spot and grabbed the back of Shane’s shirt. “Shane, just wait a minute. I know we need to do this, but at least wait for Rick.”

Shane turned, and the look he gave you was so intense, so full of fury, that you involuntarily took a few steps away from him.

He snarled at you. “Look, you uppity bitch, you’re goin’ to open that lock and protect what’s yours. I ain’t askin’.”

You shook your head. “I won’t. Not unless Rick tells me to.”

Shane lunged forward and grabbed your forearm. His grip, white knuckled and bruising, reminded you of the first time he hurt you. The pain shooting up your arm forced you to drop your gun, and despite your efforts to be brave, you couldn’t help shuddering and cowering, full of fear as you thought of all the ways this man was the most dangerous person you’d ever known.

Before you realized what was happening, he was dragging you toward the barn. His surge of strength snapped you into action. Instead of resisting, you did just what Daryl had taught you. You leaned into Shane’s pull and let yourself land squarely against his body. He didn’t expect it, and his moment of confusion gave you the opportunity to whip out your knife and hold the blade at the side of his neck.

"Let me go. Now," you ordered.

Shane released you and stumbled backwards; shock written all over his face.

Suddenly, a blur of red flannel flew into Shane from behind and tackled Shane to the ground.

"Don't you fuckin’ touch her!" Daryl yelled.

Andrea screamed at Daryl to stop. Where was that anger when Shane was hurting you?

Of course, Daryl didn’t listen, and he and Shane rolled around on the grass and dirt, each of them trying to get the upper hand. Soon, you felt Glenn put his hands on your shoulders, trying to pull you away from the fight. You trembled with fear and unspent adrenaline, Daryl’s grunts and groans only worrying you more.

"Shane, what the hell is wrong with you?" Lori demanded. No one answered her.

It wasn’t long before Daryl managed to pin Shane beneath him. Punches started flying, the sound of impact sickeningly loud and wet. Daryl grunted while Shane only whimpered and whined.

It was clear Daryl had stopped the man, but your boyfriend didn’t let up, not even a little.

"I’m okay Daryl,” you told him. “You can stop now.”

At your words, T-Dog stalked forward, and tried to pull Shane and Daryl apart, but all he got for his efforts was an elbow to the jaw.

You looked on helplessly. Daryl still had Shane pinned to the ground, punching the man again and again. "You think I don't know what you done?” He shouted. “You sick fuck!”

“Oh. thank God,” T-Dog murmured. "Rick's finally here.”

Daryl slowly stood up, spitting on Shane as he did. "You go near her again; I'll finish what I started."

Daryl backed away, wiping blood off his face. You ran from Glenn to Daryl, grabbing at his ripped shirt with trembling hands. You tried to get a look at his face, but Daryl wouldn’t let you by. He kept you entirely behind him, shielding you from Shane, who was slowly getting to his feet.

You watched from behind Daryl as the murderer struggled to stand. Most of his face was purple and red, along with cuts that dripped blood. One cheek was swollen, the eye above it unable to open. Still, he had the nerve to scoff over at you and Daryl, and then at everyone else.

"Fine. Y'all want them walkers to kill you in your sleep? Have at it." He spat blood on the ground, and everyone stared at him silently. Carl and Sophia were whimpering and holding tightly to their mothers.

You could barely breathe, barely think. You'd never seen such violence between two of the living, and it scared you how much you approved of it. Like one of the children, you cowered behind Daryl, wanting to burrow into him, to let him make all this go away, to make sure you were safe again. You didn’t care what happened to Shane, the man could die for all you cared. The thought sickened you, but you were tired of being gracious to Shane Walsh, tired of ignoring all the warning signs, tired of him putting you and your new family in constant danger.

You wrapped your arms around Daryl and buried your face in his back. He reached behind you with one hand, holding you close to him.

Andrea made her way to Shane’s side, and T-Dog, bless him, stood between Daryl and Shane. Glenn soon joined him.

Their show of protection let you relax a little. You slipped from standing behind Daryl to face him. First you took his hands in yours, inspecting his bloodied knuckles.

"You're hurt," you mumbled, dropping his hands to inspect a cut on his lip. He looked no where as injured as Shane, however, and it was clear who won that fight. A perverse sense of pride came over you. Of course, Daryl won, he was Daryl. You’d never known a fiercer fighter than him, and if you had any doubts about his ability to keep you safe, they had been obliterated.

Daryl gently swatted your hands away from his jaw. Tenderly, he lifted the arm Shane had grabbed. "I'm sorry I let 'im get ya. Shoulda listened to you."

"That's not important now." You glanced around the group, all of them tense and watching Shane pace in front of the barn, T-Dog and Glenn warily on guard. You slid your arm around Daryl, hugging him from the side, and he held you close, his body still simmering with rage.

Rick and Hershel were quickly approaching. As they did, the more agitated Shane became, and soon Daryl was pushing you behind him again.

Walkers. Rick and Hershel were leading walkers to the barn.

Carol and Lori kept the kids on the porch. The rest of you looked on warily as Rick tried to explain everything, tried to defend what Hershel was doing. You left Daryl’s side for just a second to find the gun you dropped and to retrieve Daryl’s shotgun. You both needed to be ready. Just in case.

Hershel made no sense. You'd seen the brain scans, the imaging, all the medical evidence of what turned a person into a walker. None of them would ever be human again. But you trusted Rick; you had to trust him. He held your group together; he took on the burden of leadership when he didn't have to. He'd done right by all of you, and then some.

Shane’s fury seemed to have died down, and it took little effort for T-Dog and Glenn to pull Shane away from the barn. This allowed Rick and Hershel to make their way to the wooden structure. Jimmy used a key to open the barn doors, Between him, Hershel, and Rick, the two stray walkers were soon locked in with the rest of the dead.

Once Hershel finished his speech about the walkers being friends and family, Rick told your group to remain calm. No one else protested. Either they were still shocked by the whole ordeal, or they agreed with Rick.

Tense silence reigned for a few minutes. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, Shane tried to go after Daryl again. He was no match against T-Dog and Glenn, but that didn’t stop Shane from running his mouth.

"We gotta lock Daryl up, man," Shane insisted, pointing to his face. "He's crazy. No tellin' what he'll do next."

You tore yourself from Daryl's arms and stalked toward Rick. You told Rick about Shane and his determination to take down all the walkers in the barn. "Shane tried to make me pick that lock," you explained. You held out your arm, another bruise already blooming there. "It's not the first time he's hurt me, Rick."

Daryl was next to you again, putting his arms around your shoulders, holding you steady in front of him.

Rick furrowed his brow, gaze flickering from you to Shane. "He...he was the one...?"

Lori shouted from a few yards away. "She's telling the truth, Rick."

All the color left Rick's face. He gazed at Shane in utter confusion. "Why would you hurt her?"

Shane shook his head. "It was an accident, man, just a misunderstanding. We worked it all out."

"You nearly broke her arm, you lyin’ fuck!" Daryl yelled, tightening his hold around you.

You took a deep breath. "Shane was doing something he shouldn't have, and when I tried to stop him, he put me in a wristlock."

Rick said, "What was he doing?"

You held your breath, waiting for Lori to explain. But she remained aggravatingly silent.

"What's it matter?" Daryl grumbled. "He's the one who left her bruised up for weeks. He was tryin' to do it again. I won’t let there be a third time."

Shane smiled around his swollen face. "Rick, buddy, all I did today was ask her to help protect the camp. She's been harping on about that. Then, that fat bitch pulled a knife on me."

This time you growled deep in your chest. The gall, the absolute gall of him. Daryl breathed heavily, the rage flowing off him in waves. You knew if Daryl weren’t holding you, Shane would be getting a few broken bones of his own.

Rick pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, okay. I'm going to talk to Shane. The rest of y'all get back to camp. Stay away from the barn."

Rick watched you with tired eyes. "You really pull a knife on him?"

You squared your shoulders, proud of what you'd done. "Yes. He wouldn't let go of me when I told him to. I was only defending myself."

“You two...just...keep away from him and stay together, alright?"

You nodded.

Daryl grunted and you watched as Rick studied Daryl for a long moment, the two of them having some silent conversation you weren’t privy to. All you knew was that Rick looked at Daryl with relief, not suspicion.

The way Rick looked at Shane sent shivers down your spine.

Thank you for reading! Please reply or reblog if you enjoyed it. <3

Next chapter.

==========

Tag list: @green-eyedladywrites @haleypearce @phoenixblack89 @takeabreathdeath @livingdeadblondequeen

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #twd #twd fanfic #plus size #plus size reader #plus size fanfic #mdop #minerva writes #dd/xm #scars and stitches

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furryprovocateur · 9 months

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fire emblem, or, as i like to call it, the game where you can make no mistakes and still lose. yeah i'm fucking mad but whatever, i did it.

this chapter really isn't THAT bad, i feel like the strategies for dealing with everything are fairly apparent. i just got some really dogshit luck on multiple attempts (3 60% attacks in a row missed and then in a separate attempt 2 90% attacks missed 🤪) so it really soured the shit out of my mood. the basic strategy you want to use is send two cavs + hector + priscilla and one other unit (in my case, it was guy) to the north, send matthew to the west and give him a buddy unit to kill the shaman unless your matthew has gotten stupidly good (or you just want to roll dice loaded against you 3-4 turns in), leave two of your units (one of them should preferably be lyn) behind to deal with the cav + nomad reinforcements. lyn benefits greatly from mani katti here and will nail kills she otherwise has next to no business getting. in a bizarre twist of fate, my lyn has 14 strength and 13 speed. can't tell if i should be arguing that she's blessed in strength or getting burned in speed. probably both.

speaking of level ups, i feel like i got an okay assortment of them. feel like i'm getting mostly average level ups in that people are getting the stats they should be (i.e. florina's getting speed and resistance, hector's getting strength and defense, lowen's getting whatever + defense), and while i wish i was getting ever so slightly better level ups on people like guy (he's always juuuuuust shy of 1RKOing and can't double with the iron blade), i feel like i should largely have no complaints. kent's basically caught up as well, low on skill but skill is a meme stat.

the biggest annoyance of the map is the thieves that spawn in the north. one of them will just fuck off (i assume this is because it's there to go for the chests to the west that i always end up getting before he's even a presence), but the other one is a super asshole. on my previous attempts i was able to intercept him and kill him before he looted more than one chest (meaning you can still get all the treasure), but in the one that beat the chapter, the little cunt got to the silver sword then the knight crest, meaning i lost the silver sword. the only positive i can say is that he never does the reverse (which would be a colossal hit (that i would reset over)), and the silver sword is only 1500 gold. but it's really just the principle of the matter. way more annoyed about it than i really should be but i'll survive.

people shit on lucius but he does one solid thing, regardless of whether or not you used him in lyn mode: he's able to lure out one of the knights in bernard's room and kill it with a 3HKO. it's nothing impressive but it's something. meanwhile, his boyfriend raven unfortunately wasn't able to do much for me since i needed him to recruit lucius. he doesn't need experience that badly for now, but the sooner i can make him a frontliner, the better. he is one of the stars of HHM after all.

speaking of bernard's room! capital F FUCK that mage in that room. dude's a gigantic fuck and i wish the worst on him.

bernard himself was very "whatever" to kill. hector with wolf beil deleted him in 2 hits. i would've vastly preferred to get the kill with someone else, as hector's about to hit level 15 (which is fairly overleveled compared to the rest of my units and enemies in the current chapters + i don't need him hitting 20 early), but there were no really good options out of the people available (eliwood, kent, guy, lowen). eliwood could've maybe done some damage, but the rapier only has 4 uses and eliwood isn't as reliable as ol' hector.

i am grouchy and bitchy rn, but i'll probably wake up pretty happy with how things turned out. i was very worried about hitting both tactics and experience goals, so to clear both that well is very fortunate. i'm at the point where i need to start cycling some units out (i.e. lowen), and i'd like to make use of rebecca/bartre but it's hard to catch them up. maybe pirate ship will be kind to them. but you know what chapter isn't going to be kind to me? the next one! not looking forward to port of badon, but at least it's got double the turns for 5 star compared to HNM (seriously, fuck doing that chapter in 5 turns). also gonna have to decide how many units i want to bring just for the premise of using them in the arena. erk in the arena for experience buffering is extremely tempting. i'll meditate on it.

#long #long post #fire emblem

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sir-sunawani · 10 months

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Quicksand

Fem Reader x Sir Crocodile

20 Chapters - 46,838 words

Read it on Ao3 or Wattpad

CW: Language, violence, blood, moral ambiguity, murder, sexual themes and situations, yandere, angst with a happy ending, a referenced instance of physical abuse. 18+ only

Chapter 5: Sand Kissed

The cool feeling of glass against the nape of your neck sends shivers down your back as the surprisingly gentle hand slips down your spine and settles into the middle of your back. You were sure the soft gasp of air that escapes you is audible, and certainly the heat that's already rising in your face was noticeable.

Warm fingers sweep the errant strand of hair you hadn't bothered fixing since the meal back behind your ear. Trailing slowly down the line of your jaw, you feel your face tilting upward seemingly on its own. His thumb slips over the curve of your lips, and you release a soft hot breath at the sensation, your very core shuddering at the idea of what is to follow.

He leans down, those amber golden eyes practically glowing in the dark room, holding your gaze and seemingly catching your breath as well. An approving smile reaches those eyes, in contrast to the nearly disinterested half-lidded gaze. You wonder idly what would cause those eyes to open wide, what emotion, pleasure, or moment could release that intense gaze completely - and who would be able to survive it.

His lips brush over yours so lightly that it's nearly painful in the haze of your desire, and you hear his deep voice in your ear. "Breathe, Miss (Y/N)," he commands, a light kiss near your ear. "While you still can."

You suck in a breath, unaware you had stopped in the first place, and let it out shakily. There's a soft chuckle rumbling from somewhere in his chest, as his hand slips over your eyes. You take a sharp breath in, and feel his lips against yours, warm, dry, commanding. His glass hand holds you in place against his body as he gives you a moment to breathe before deepening the kiss.

There is no request for your surrender, no sweet lick along your lips to urge entrance, you simply submit as you fall to the will of the man before you. There is no disinterest in the energy of his kiss, nothing to be called calm. There is heat and passion, will and dominance, you can feel yourself getting lost in the unspoken commands swirling around you.

Your fingers find purchase against his arms, tight and solid, more powerful and fit than you had expected. There was no escape to be had, and you wanted none. Your hands move over him, trying to pull him closer even as the relentless kiss makes your head spin. Your moans mix into the kiss, and your fingers clench and pull against the turtleneck he's wearing.

There's an illusion of control as you mistake him ending the kiss as you successfully leaning back to break it. You sink into his arms, the kiss having nearly buckled your legs. Between the rush of it and the dizzying lack of air as he had taken what he pleased, he had given you all you had desired and then some.

Your breath is hot and heavy, your face flushed and bright with heat and desire. You want more of his lips, but the rush of the kiss has you reeling and slightly hesitant, unsure how much more of him you could survive.

"My desires in this are clear," he catches your gaze, pulling you in as his voice demands your attention. "Yours must be as well."

You swallow hard. You know what you want, and know what was likely to happen, from the moment you had decided to follow him to the hotel. Even before then. Old fantasies swam in and out of your mind as you try to find the words needed.

"I want you." Your voice is soft, but steady. It's only your body trembling with anticipation that shivers within his grasp.

"Mm, but how, Miss (Y/N)?" He questions, amusement dripping from his voice. You can practically feel the teeth at your throat; he may be asking you, but you're already being devoured by him.

"I... am in your care, Sunawani." You manage, a dangerous smile slipping across his face. His lips close in on yours and you manage a quiet, almost whimpered, "please don't break me." Before he claims your mouth again, with a deep, hopefully positive, grunt rumbling in his chest in response.

Rough hands grab your ass, and you can't tell in your haze which is flesh or glass as you're lifted from the ground, pressed against the wall briefly as your legs wrap around his waist, and your arms wrap around his neck. Your fingers slip through his hair, and you find a little control in the kisses that pass between the two of you, his hands too occupied with holding you up as he moves you through the room.

The smooth transition from being held to being laid on the bed isn't fully appreciated by your pleasure addled mind. You have a few moments free from his deep kisses as he leans back, looming over your body that's unfolded before him. There's something in his fiery gaze that spurs you to move without him saying a word.

Your fingers begin to undo the buttons of your blouse. You want to toss the garment aside in a swift motion, but something in you decides to take your time. There's no sense in letting him have complete control so easily.

You continue undoing buttons even as you reach the waist of your jeans. You can see the approval on his face as you loosen your pants and pull the zipper down, kicking your shoes off and onto the floor as you wiggle the band of your jeans down your hips a little. Cool glass fingers slide across your hips as he leans down, lopping a finger around the thin lacy band of your thong with an amused hum.

Any explanation on your part dies on your lips as he steals another kiss from you, the deep moan rumbling up from his chest into the exchange is enough to convey his approval. He moves enough to pull your pants off, leaving the lacy undergarment in place for now, and tossing the jeans onto the floor. He puts a knee on the bed and pulls his turtleneck off.

The motion tussles his hair, which wasn't staying back very well on its own before this point anyway. You mean to remove your blouse, but the revelation of what was under his shirt has frozen you in place. No wonder it had been like walking into a brick wall when you crashed into him on Wednesday. There was no true apathy in this man's personality, maybe the world at large did bore him, but the dedication he had to himself was... appreciable.

Hands slip underneath your blouse and back, lifting you up off the bed.

"I don't often have a desire to mind others' possessions," Crocodile's voice rumbles through you. "But it seems I am so inclined for you."

He slips the blouse from one of your arms, and you place your fingers on his very near, very solid chest. "Distracted." You admit, not having mind enough to say much past that.

"Mm," you can hear and feel his voice as your blouse is removed entirely, forgotten on the floor with your jeans. "Allow me to help with that."

Warm fingers slip along the back of your neck, curling through your hair and pulling you into another deep kiss as cooler fingers trace down your side, eliciting muffled squeaks and moans from you as the touch tickles you. He breaks the kiss as the glass fingers move under the band of your thong and slip deep into the hot wet lips between your thighs.

You gasp as the cold, hard, smooth surface of the glass finger teases your clit. Your hips buck and your back arches, as the slow motion pulls airy, shaking gasps from you. The slow delicious assault only stops enough for him to pull your bra up and over your breasts, since his other arm is still holding you off the bed a bit.

The glass digit resumes between your thighs as a hot, wet tongue licks up the curve of your breast before his mouth devours a hard, sensitive nipple. Tongue and teeth lick and nip at the sensitive flesh, seemingly in time with the steady movements of his prosthetic. Your legs twitch and shift, toes curling as your body tenses under his desires, your arms torn between wanting to explore his body, and wanting to push yourself away from the building pleasure.

Your airy gasps and moans are deeper and louder, your fingers flexing against his arms and chest.

"Sss-u-wani...." You whimper as you feel the pleasure building up inside you.

"I only meant for you to use that in public, but I do like the way you're saying it right now." He purrs, his breathe teasing your flesh as he takes the time to speak. "Cry for me, (Y/N)."

His mouth continues its assault and the glass finger speeds up. The rush of renewed pleasure sends a shock through your body, and the orgasm crashes into you suddenly. Your cry of pleasure was cut short by the rush of things, strangled in your throat and your body spasms with the hard orgasm.

As you sink into the bed, you can hear the sound of a zipper, and the rumple of clothes falling to the ground. The sounds of a wrapper breaking brings some comfort to your addled brain, too lost in the haze of your orgasm to have had a mind to ask on your own.

He holds both of your ankles in one hand, lifting your hips enough to pull your thong to your knees. Your legs press into his chest as his erection presses against your entrance. That golden amber gaze finds the last traces of focus in your eyes as your hands reaches out to him.

"Please," you beg. The position gives you little capacity to move into him, but you feel the sweet pressure of his cock pushing you open, filling you up and driving deep into the wet needy mess you had become. Your fingers clutch at the comforter under you as pleasurable sounds bubble up from your chest and escape into the space between you and him.

"The sounds you make are addictive," Crocodile admits, his voice nearly a growl as he fights to control himself, finishing his slow and steady push into you until he's completely in. He stays still for a brief moment, for your sake or his it's hard to say, and then begins a steady rhythm.

After a few long strokes he pulls your thong from your legs completely, tossing it aside and putting your legs on either side of his chest, against the tops of his shoulders. He leans forward, pushing deeper as his hands sink into the mattress on either side of your waist. The new sensation sends a shiver through your body, and your fingers wrap around his forearms as his earlier steady pace picks up.

You have no control over the sounds that escape you, but the gasps and moans and broken bits of pleading are appreciated by the one responsible for eliciting such noises from you. As the pleasure builds in you, your legs tremble and your breathing comes out in shuddering heavy breaths. He leans down a little more and the shift in angle hits you so deliciously you're clamping down on him in orgasm without warning.

His pace picks up and the new deep assault pulls the first unexpected orgasm into a second stronger one, with seemingly no relief between the two of them. Tears fall down the sides of your face as the overwhelming sensation overpowers you, and you're on the verge of begging him to stop when his thrusts become erratic and his thick cock twitches inside of you.

Your feet flex as he pulls out, your whole body unbelievably sensitive as you're lost in a thick haze of pleasure and exhaustion. You hum contentedly as his hands move down your legs, easing them into the comforter as he leans down and kisses you. The soft and tender kiss is in contrast to his earlier passion, but it's warm and still sends little shivers of pleasure down into your chest.

He untangles your bra from your limbs as you have all the capacity and coordination of a puppet that's had its strings cut at the moment. You turn and nuzzle in his chest as he sinks into the comforter beside you. Propped up on his elbow his warm hand runs down your shoulder and arm, to your hip, sliding over the soft lines of your body comfortably.

"Not broken yet, I hope." He muses, your eyes still hazy with pleasure, your fingers idling along the lines of his chest.

You shake your head lazily, "You're surprisingly considerate," you muse, especially for a Warlord, nuzzling your cheek against the warm hand moving across your jaw and into your hair.

There's a strong, but not painful tug, as your head is tilted so that you're looking into his eyes. The sharp intense gaze burns into you, pushing back the haze that the earlier pleasure had dropped you in.

"And now I know the unspoken third concern." Crocodile says pointedly, and with growing horror you realize your internal thought had not been as internal as you thought.

#Quicksand #Sir Crocodile #x reader #sir crocodile x reader #one piece fanfiction #modern au #reader insert #yandere #grandline metro au

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darthvashtique93 · 6 months

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Return of the Hawk

Chapter 33

Shayera and Chey-Ara attacking each other had not surprised Batman. Green Lantern and Flash, however, were prepared to rush to Shayera's aid, but J'ohnn immediately held them both back with his powers. "No," he said, "this needs to happen." Batman watched the two fight while his teammates made quips here and there. Chey-Ara had solid form, good footwork, hard punches, but she was nowhere near as good as Shayera, who was going easy on the smaller hawk. Shayera had yet to throw a single punch. Clearly, she didn't want to hurt the smaller hawk. "Ooh," Flash flinched as Shayera's fist made contact with Chey-Ara's ribs.

Batman warched as Shayera allowed the young hawk to recover and attack. She could have easily ended the fight just now, he thought. A moment later, the fight ended when Shayera placed her opponent in a chokehold. "You go Shay," Flash cheered loudly. Shayera then slowly released Chey-Ara instead of delivering a final blow. "That's it? That's all we get?" Flash asked.

"You are so immature," Green Lantern murmured.

"What are they doing now?" Flash asked incredulously. "Are they seriously having a conversation? They do know we're 20 feet away, right?"

"Let them talk, Barry," J'ohnn said.

A few moments later, Flash asked Green Lantern, "Do you know what they're saying?"

"No," Green Lantern answered back.

"Can't you use your ring to translate?"

"I can. But I won't."

"Why?"

"Flash," Wonder Woman said in annoyance, "if they wanted us to know what they were saying, they would speak English."

"You guys do know that us standing here while they debate… or whatever is very, very weird."

"Shut up, Flash," Wonder Woman and Green Lantern growled at the same time.

Batman continued to watch the two hawks. He saw Shayera motion their away a couple of times. Then she started sneaking glances at them…or him? Interesting. A moment later, the two were shaking hands and walking to rejoin the group.

"You guys stood here and just stared at us the entire time?" Shayera asked with a raised brow.

"What else were we supposed to do?" Flash asked with a grin.

"I trust everything has been sorted," Batman said in a monotone voice, looking between the two Thanagarians. Chey-Ara glanced at Batman before covering a smile with her hand. "Yes, everything is okay," Shayera said, "Chey-Ara will help us."

"Just like that?" Wonder Woman folded her arms with a scowl. "Do all Thanagarians change their allegiance so easily?"

"Excuse me?" Chey-Ara glared at the Amazon. Shayera placed a hand on Chey-Ara's arm.

"It's fine, Diana," Superman gave Wonder Woman a harsh look before saying, "We'll bring the other league members up to speed later. Right now, we need to prepare for the attack."

"I already have a plan," Batman said.

"Of course, you do," Flash muttered.

Batman glared at the speedster. "I'll bring you guys up to speed later. Right now, Shayera and I need to get back," he said glancing at he comm in his hand. "Something has come up. I'm needed in Gotham ASAP."

"Anything we can help with?" Superman asked.

"No," Batman answered before turning on his heel and walking out the door. Shayera gave a small wave before following him.

"I can provide more information," Shayera heard Chey-Ara say as she and Batman walked out. Shayera only hoped Wonder Woman wouldn't attack their newest recruit.

"What's wrong?" Shayera asked Batman as they appeared in the batcave, teleporting from the Watchtower.

"Ah, Master Bruce," Alfred greeted them on the teleportation pad. "Miss Shayera."

"He is here," Batman said stiffly.

"In the gym, sir."

Batman gave a nod before saying, "Let's go, Shayera."

"What?" Shayera followed not understanding what was going on. "What is going on? Who are we meeting?"

"You'll see," Batman responded, his voice not giving anything away.

Shayera entered the training gym behind Batman and saw a male hawk standing in the gym, inspecting it closely. "This is the hawkman you were telling me about?" Shayera asked.

Carter turned. "Hey, Bats," he greeted.

"Do you have them?" Batman said.

"I do," Carter said. He placed a wide, thick briefcase on the bench and opened it. Shayera's brain didn't register what she was seeing until Carter held them up. "Here they are," he stated proudly. Something white was draped over his forearms. "For you," Carter said to Shayera, holding his arms out towards her.

Shayera moved closer to inspect the item in Carter's arms. It took her five seconds to realize what was being given to her. Her mouth dropped open in awe; she was speechless. Draped over Carter's arms were a pair of white, Thanagarian faux wings.

Shayera slowly, stiffly reached a hand out to touch them. "I hope they're okay," Carter continued. "Bats here wanted it to be a surprise, so I had to trust the measurements he gave me. I don't want to know how you were able to get the lieutenant's measurements, but I hope they turned out just right." Carter continued speaking, but Shayera didn't hear him as his voice faded into the background. She was…this was…and he was…Shayera turned to Batman. "You did this for me?" she asked him, interrupting Carter who was still talking.

"Carter made them," Batman answered, "I just umph." Batman was stopped midsentence by Shayera kissing him. Shayera was on her tiptoes kissing him. They were kissing. He and Shayera were kissing. And she had initiated it. Batman remained calm on the outside as he slowly wrapped his arms around Shayera's waist.

"Uhh," Carter shifted uncomfortably. "I'll just…I know my way out," he said, slowly backing out the gym.

Once he was gone, Shayera broke the kiss, removing Bruce's cowl. "Shayera," Bruce muttered softly.

"I'm sorry," Shayera said still standing on her tiptoes, breathing heavily. "I shouldn't have kissed you while you were still Batman, but I just – you just – and the wings – you," she didn't know what to say. So, she planted her lips on Bruce's once again, pressing her body into his. Bruce didn't know how to proceed. Any other female, they would have already been naked – or he would have had her up against a wall. But Shayera wasn't any female. He didn't want to scare or startle her. He wasn't sure how…experienced…she was with sex. Following her lead was the best course of action.

Bruce wasn't the only one having an inner monologue while kissing, Shayera was having one, too. This wasn't how she had planned to share her feelings with Bruce, but then she saw the wings. She didn't know what to do. She had never felt this happy about anything before. Her wings had been the most precious thing in her life, and Bruce had just given them back to her. Her heart was swelling with joy and a whole bunch of other mushy emotions. "Thank you," Shayera breathed out. "Thank you. I – I don't know what else to say," she felt tears gather in her eyes.

"You don't have to say anything, Shayera," Bruce said, resting his forehead against hers. He gazed into her large green eyes.

"Yes, I do," Shayera whispered, not shying away from his gaze. "I have so much to thank you for," she said as tears slowly rolled down her face. Bruce used his thumbs to wipe the tears away as she continued, "No one's ever…" her voice faded.

"I know," Bruce said stroking her cheek as gently as possible through this black, military grade gloves.

"I can't – I have nothing to give you – "

This time, Bruce interrupted her with his lips covering hers, all the while wishing he wasn't still wearing his stupid suit. "You owe me nothing," he said breathlessly as he continued kissing her senseless, sucking her lower lip, slipping his tongue in her mouth.

Shayera was drowning in feelings and sensations. She had never felt this with John. Then again, she never actually let it get this far with John. She was loyal to Katar when it came to…bedroom intimacies. "You should try them on," Bruce said, pulling his lips only a few millimeters away from hers.

"I don't want to," Shayera said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Not now."

"It's okay," Bruce pressed a quick kiss to her lips, "we will continue this later, I promise." He kissed her hard before releasing her. "Try them on," he demanded, falling back into his Dark Knight role. "I'm gonna change." Shayera nodded, biting her lip. She had just made out with the Batman. She wanted to scream for joy, but she wouldn't because that would be weird for her. Instead she turned to the wings resting on the bench and began studying them, looking them over. It would feel weird, but these wings would definitely come in handy…as soon as she learned how to put them on. "I should have asked Carter when he was here," she realized.

Diana sat atop the Eiffel Tower, watching the city below. The meeting had been…eventful. She needed a moment to process. "May I join you?"

Diana turned to her right. "Kal-el," she said in surprise. "Of course you can join me. You do not have to ask."

Superman sat next to her. "Paris is beautiful at night," he said.

"Yes, it is," Diana agreed. "I come up here every now and then to think. To clear my head."

"Well," Kal-el said, "penny for your thoughts?" he gave her a simple nudge.

Diana smiled. "I have been on this planet for a very long time, and I still do not understand that particular phrase. Do humans really believe thoughts to be worth a penny?"

Kal-el shrugged before saying, "I don't know what it means either, and I actually lived with humans. Don't feel bad about not understanding their vernacular at times. But really, Diana, is everything okay?" he asked in concern.

Diana released a heavy sigh. "I hated Shayera. I hated what she did to us. When they took her wings, I did not care. I thought she deserved it. I only fought them because you did. But I wanted her to feel how I felt when she betrayed us." Diana stared out into the distance. It was one hour before sunrise. "And then Chey-Ara said she would fight with us."

"Yeah," Superman said. "That surprised me."

"Does loyalty mean nothing to them?"

"Diana," Superman leveled her with a look, "you were there when Shayera's wings were torn from her back. You know loyaltly is everything to the Thanagarians."

"If Chey-Ara can be so easily convinced to go against her own people, who's to say she cannot be easily swayed back to their side?"

"I see," Superman frowned. They sat in silence for a few minutes. "Diana, what is Thanagar like?"

"What do you mean?" Diana furrowed her brow.

"Well, you and Shayera spoke often. Did she ever tell you about her life on Thanagar?"

"No, she didn't," Diana frowned. "I never asked."

"Hmm. Neither did I. J'ohnn has told me what he has gleaned from Chey-Ara. By the way, I do believe our resident Martian has developed a crush."

Diana's jaw fell open in surprise. "On the prisoner?" she asked.

"Chey-Ara? Yes."

"That's…it is sort of exciting," she smiled.

"It is," Superman agreed. "But from what he's told me, life on Thanagar is no paradise." Diana looked at him. "Instead of thinking in terms of loyalty and disloyalty, maybe ask – how bad was it for them on Thanagar that they were willing to walk away from their lives? It's not like she was kicked out of her country, Diana, Shayera can never return to her planet."

"I never thought of it like that."

"Your right about how fast Shayera was able to get Chey-Ara to our side. But didn't it make you wonder about Chey-Ara's life before if walking away from it all is so…easy?"

Diana frowned. "I do not know the real Shayera. I can't honestly say I made a great effort to know her before Thanagar's invasion. We were the only two females on the team. We should have been as close as sisters, but I always kept her at an arm's length. When it turned out was a spy, I was happy. I was justified in my reasons for not befriending her. Now I can't help but think…maybe if I had been a friend to her…" Diana didn't finish that thought.

"Before she flew away that day, she did say she didn't know the Thanagarians were planning an invasion."

"I didn't believe her," Diana said, tearing up. "I didn't believe her. I thought it was another lie. And so, I hated her. It was much easier to hater than it was to empathize with her."

"Diana," Superman placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"When I close my eyes, I can still hear her scream from when they tore her wings," Diana said, pulling her knees to her chest. "That horrible cry - I have never heard such a heart wrenching noise in my life.

"You can't beat yourself up over this. You were not the only one mad at her that day. We all were."

"Barry was not. Bruce once admitted that he might have done the same thing had he been in her position. And J'ohnn…" Diana thought back to that day. "Actually, I do not know what J'ohnn was thinking at all. He probably knows more about that invasion than any of us. He probably knows more than Shayera." Superman nodded in agreement. "I do not know what to do," Diana admitted.

"What do you want to do?" Superman asked.

"I want to yell at her. I want to hit her. And then I want to hug her and tell her how much I missed her." Superman stood to his feet and held a hand out to Diana. "What?" Diana asked, not sure what to do.

"Let's go. It's been a while since I've visited Bruce. No better time like the present."

Diana placed her hand in Superman's and allowed him to help her to her feet. "Wait," Diana said. "Do you know a country where it is daytime? I would like some strawberry ice cream."

Superman laughed. "I actually taught myself how to make it," he admitted shyly.

Diana's eyes widened with glee. "Really?" she gasped.

Superman nodded. "How about we go to the Fortress of Solitude and…chill?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye as he pulled her closer.

"Like a date?" Diana asked, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Exactly, like a date."

"That would make it date number 3," Diana said.

"Is the third date special?"

"Not that I know of. I was just counting." Superman rubbed his nose against hers.

"What about Bruce?" Diana asked breathlessly.

Superman shrugged. "I'll visit him later. Let's go," he motioned for her to follow him before taking off into the night sky for some homemade ice cream…and whatever else followed.

Chey-Ara sat in the cafeteria, rigid and unmoving. According to the Martian Manhunter, it was almost 6 a.m., and the newer leaguers would be coming to breakfast right about…now. The doors to the cafeteria swished open, and Chey-Ara turned to see a group of heroes walk in. They froze when they saw the dark-skinned hawk sitting in their cafeteria. "Who are you?" a guy covered in blue from head to toe with pointy, thin wings sticking out from his back asked.

"Aren't you one of those bird-people who invaded us like three years ago?" another hero Chey-Ara could not see asked.

"It was two years ago," a blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl stepped forward with her hands on her waist. She wore the same outfit Superman did, except she had a skirt. "Who are you?" the blonde demanded, her eyes glowing red. "How'd you get in here?"

"Enough," the calm voice of the Martian Manhunter echoed throughout the cafeteria. He appeared right in front of the blonde, staring down at her. "Her name is Chey-Ara. She's our guest."

"Does my cousin know about this?" the girl demanded. Chey-Ara rolled her eyes. J'ohnn simply walked away from blonde much to Chey-Ara's amusement. He sat across from Chey-Ara. "That is Supergirl. She is the cousin of Superman," he stated. "You don't want to eat anything?"

"I am fine," Chey-Ara replied firmly.

"Chey-Ara," the green man said calmly, "you are safe here. You can relax."

Chey-Ara looked down. She had never relaxed a day in her life. Thanagarians were trained to always be on guard, even when sleeping. "This is my first time away from home, and now I will never be able to return there."

"Was it just you and your parents on Thanagar?"

Chey-Ara nodded. " And then when my parents were arrested and executed for speaking out against the ruling class, it was just me. My mother was beheaded. My father died in prison. I was just entering my first year of training when they were arrested. I never saw them again. I was raised in a…a…um…you guys have a lot of them in Gotham. With bunches of children."

"Orphanage."

"Yes," Chey-Ara said, "orphanage. That is where I was raised before my recruitment into the Thanagarian army."

"I am sorry for all you've been through, Chey-Ara."

Chey-Ara shrugged. "I am not. I do not even remember what my parents looked like."

"But learning how to fight from an early age is no childhood."

"I do not know what a childhood is, but I survived my first obstacle course at age 5. I was…humans say…overachiever," Chey-Ara stated proudly. Her face then fell.

"What is it?" J'ohnn asked curiously.

"If I do survive this…invasion. I will need to find a new home."

"Chey-Ara, I thought it was obvious," J'ohnn said. Chey-Ara stared at him confusion. "You are welcome to stay here, on Earth."

"Where?" she asked.

"Here. In the Watchtower."

"With them?" she pointed to group of young heroes openly gaping at her and the Martian Manhunter. "Why can't I stay with you?"

The Martian Manhunter blinked his red eyes once, then twice. For a moment, he said absolutely nothing. "You would want to live with me?" he asked.

"Yeah. You're the only one who really talks to me. I don't want to be stuck here in this building. I will feel trapped. Do you not live on Earth?"

"I do live on Earth."

"You do not have enough room in your house?"

"I have plenty of room."

"You just do not want me there."

"That is not it at all, Chey-Ara," J'ohnn said firmly. "I just was not expecting you to ask." J'ohnn paused, seemingly weighing his options. He stood up. "Come with me. I will show you where I live."

"Really?" Chey-Ara asked, not bothering to hide her excitement.

"Yes, besides, you have been locked up in here for a month. You need real air," he said as he escorted her out the cafeteria, ignoring the prying and spiteful eyes around them.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13461097/1/Return-of-the-Hawk

#hawkgirl #bruce wayne x shayera hol #bathawk #shayera hol #batman x hawkgirl

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amazildoessomethingstupid · 7 months

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Chapter 84: Scenic Route

So with that out of the way ONTO THE NEXT CHAPTER: chapter 84 Scenic Route! Which if there was a runt of the litter for the Paulo Show, this would be it. Not to say that it’s bad or anything, it’s wonderful and really sweet, and much like all the other chapters it has a really strong and memorable character moment in it. The problem is… this chapter has a certain heavy weight attached to it that… It just couldn’t shake off. Even back then when I read this chapter I couldn’t fully appreciate it, because of the unshakable knowledge that this… would be the last time Tess got to hang out with the gang. And worst of all, even here she wasn’t allowed to shine.

The chapter is centered around Tess inviting the gang (minus Sue) to a picnic to a familiar riverside park. With callbacks a plenty for old readers to enjoy! Look!

They’re gonna race along the trees, just like that one time when-

Oh… yeah… Well thankfully that doesn’t happen here! Instead we’re treated to some nice subtle nods to Abbey and Daisy’s relationship being a little shaky still with Abbey seeming to be absentminded throughout the chapter, if not a bit negligent towards Daisy.

Honestly a most of this chapter is just the kids goofing around and… well… acting like kids. Which is refreshing! I really like it, the chapter serves as a sweet reprieve from the heavier chapters that we’ve had and it’s nice seeing the gang just have fun. And yes, that does include you…

Mike… And before you ask, no I am not going to have a gush session over Mike. He hasn’t EARNED it yet. I may have accepted Mike’s failures as a decent human being, but that does not mean he is FORGIVEN! It is nice though, and I wish to reiterate that yes. Inbetween all these skipped over pages, THERE IS GOLD HERE!

Oh that Paulo~ So the set up is paid off as Abbey’s negligence ends up getting him left behind, meanwhile Daisy does accidentally get hurt, which leading to her staying put with Paulo as company while the rest of the gang goes to get Abbey leading to the actual meat of the chapter as Paulo and Daisy sit and talk, thinking about where they are in life and what the future may hold. It’s a really nice and sweet scene… So nice they did it twice but we’re not talking about that. POSITIVITY! So overall this chapter is solid. On its own, it serves as a great nothing chapter that shows that the kids are alright and looking to a brighter future, although for some it’s not so certain. If this chapter came out now, one could argue that it’s shipbaiting for Paulo and Daisy, but to me their dialogue came across more as siblings that care about each other, with both seeing the best in the other with a bittersweet tinge of sorrow as they see how they’re both headed on different paths. It’s really nice, but

But I would be remised if I didn’t bring up the one gripe I do have about the Paulo show that this chapter just happened to fall in line with an anecdote I have. Because, while I was going through my 2 years of illiteracy I did actually take a look at a page just because I heard grumblings over the art style. And I figured I’d take a glance and see what all the hubbub was about, and it just so happened to be this page! I remember it because, my exact words were, “Wow! This is actually pretty neat! Y’know the proportions did make the characters’ ages seem a bit older and ambiguous, but this is actually pretty cool! These proportions, the washed out colors… This is a really good way of artistically showing a flashback without just blatantly using cloud panels! This is great! Good job Taeshi!” and the old dogs I talked to at the time just went:

And sadly the chibification of characters was the one thing that actually did carry over from The Paulo Show. But… I’m forgetting something aren’t I? Did you notice there was something missing from that summary? Oh yeah, TESS!

Despite her technically being in it the whole way through aside from the Paulo and Daisy scene, Tess really didn’t get to stand out here. Sure, we get a nice heartfelt bit where she says how much she enjoyed just being there with the gang, but all it really does is remind us of the unfulfilled promise that this character gave. And it makes my heart ache as I knew this was the end for The Rich Girl, the OG Golden Girl, my favorite lie… Tess. For context, Tess was a PIVOTAL supporting character in Volume 1 for BCB. In fact, a number of great character moments, chapters, and arcs can be traced back to her involvement. From the Christmas Chapter

To setting up the Acapulco Arc!

Her purpose in the toolbox of characters in BCB, was very versatile. Setting up adventures, new conflicts, and at times, serving as an audience surrogate to ask questions about the other characters’ history and allow exposition naturally.

She had a spunk to her that made her likable, a complicated history that made her sympathetic, and a perspective on life and drama that set her apart from the rest of the pack. As the oldest member in the group she brought a more mature perspective to a lot of the drama and scenes that the kids would get into, but she also had this childish excitement and eagerness to be involved with the gang. She wanted to see them grow and help them become better people. And that falls right into the biggest involvement she had, when she had her relationship…

With Paulo! Serving as a positive force in his life, Tess dating Paulo was a perfect match as two punky kids trying to make it in this cruel world. And with Tess’ maturity being a great opportunity for her to build him up to follow suit, it was perfect. Absolutely perfect! Except for one liiiiiittle snag, a small chink in her immaculate armor, and no it wasn’t that she wanted more out of Paulo that he couldn’t understand. You see, Tess was afflicted with a terrible, debilitating disease when she was born into this world. An awful condition that she had to deal with early in her life… She was a Fan Character. A death sentence, for most cursed with such a cruel fate. But she showed so much strength in what she was able to do in those early chapters, that we all hoped that maybe she could beat her condition maybe she had one last trick up her sleeve, one last hurrah, one last adventure, one last send off to carry us through and remember her by… But alas the damage was already done, and in this chapter we see her succumb to the bitter sudden end.

The promise of suspense in Volume 2. Setting up Tess’ final year with the gang to be a senior year to remember would sadly only lead to her being muscled out in favor of more heavy drama. Her presence becoming less and less, as she was forced into irrelevance. From being a powerful force in moving these characters, with deep connections to all them, to being just a shadow of her former self as she would become nothing more than a side-note in Volume 2, and an occasional speedbump in Volume 3. The fact was the fireball, take charge, punk rock girl we all once knew and loved was dead. She died years ago. And this chapter just shows…

She was the last to know.

9/10

Gone but not forgotten;

Replaced, but forever remains

#bittersweet candy bowl #rant

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hsvh-hp · 1 year

Note

Hiii! 💝 and 🌈 for the ask game. :)

Oooh ok so—

💝what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

I had to think on this one for a while because it seems like about 75% of the time I'm off the mark on how a fic performs, lol. I've learned to expect nothing and then be pleasantly surprised when anything gets any engagement. After writing a handful of Drarry fics, anything else can be really humbling in comparison! That part of the HP fandom is just that massive.

To answer the question, I would say None So Vile. It was a fest fic, of which mine generally don't do as well as my other works. It featured a rare pair: Sirius/Rabastan, which at this time of writing has a whopping 12 works attributed to it on AO3. I (spoiler alert) killed off Remus in it, and rather callously at that since Sirius was responsible for his death. It's implied at the end of the fic that Sirius will shortly (and happily) become a Death Eater.

But people seemed to really like it! It's my most popular non-Drarry fest fic, and the comments are overwhelmingly positive. I thought I'd get like, 5 kudos and maybe one comment going 'umm Sirius wouldn't do all this, kys' that would just end up deleted once I finished rolling my eyes lmao.

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

This one is easy. I still have writer PTSD from Across the Multiverse, lol.

I wrote it entirely before posting in weekly updates, like I usually do for longfics. The first 9 chapters were solid, but I started having problems around chapter 10...and didn't realize until I had posted that far. So instead of being a normal person and putting the fic on hiatus while I fixed all the issues (it reeeally needed to be more fleshed out in the second half), I raced the clock and rewrote chapters 10-20 while keeping to my update schedule.

On top of that, and not that I minded the reader feedback at all!, but posting each new chapter was so stressful for what plotholes I might have missed being pointed out, what language was unclear, etc. I really wished that I'd thought of getting a beta reader. But I was on my own, and for the first time in a very long time as a writer, that was scary.

Thank you so much for asking! 😘

#ask game

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crystalelemental · 1 year

Text

Engage, day 4. Not as much to update, but you know.

I want to put this out there: I am an idiot who should not be allowed to do things. I like clearing everything that pops up, but doing the side battles absolutely over-leveled me for future chapters. I beat the shit out of Hortensia, it was not a challenge. Chloe could've soloed that map if she wanted. She almost did. I had to actively back her out of just annihilating Hortensia like it was nothing. The side maps are...honestly the biggest challenges, though admittedly the one with the fog of war shit was the worst. There were a lot of enemies, and I had a metric ton of issues with that map. It absolutely broke me. I used the Time Crystal. I don't even care. I hate Fog of War, man.

But I'm also an idiot because I kept using my mains for it, instead of the backup units like Boucheron and Clanne, and now they're way behind and I don't know if they can reasonably catch up. I need to try. But I feel dumb for letting it reach this point. Ugh. Once everyone starts hitting level 20, that'll be a good time to just leave them there, and work on the backup units. I like getting like...all the supports in the first runthrough. I like to know what everyone's like.

But as a preliminary assessment, it's already become difficult to choose a team. I'm on Chapter 8. Chloe is MVP of this army, she is literally untouchable. Solid defenses, fantastic speed, solid offensive presence, Sigurd ring for complete map control and Canter, just an absolute wrecking ball of a unit. Celine is second best, but I'm ready for a slight drop-off. Celine has been carried, in part, by Celica's ring. Warp Ragnarok is obscene. But, as I'm learning, Celine is also the only reasonable option for it. I have it now on Cittrine, who is...super physically frail, so she gets annihilated really easily when she warps, and her speed is atrocious when Thunder is equipped, so she...really needs to be careful or she just dies. Celine has none of these issues. I think she hit 10 defense, and is almost as fast as Chloe. Celine just wins. Third best is Framme, though she's gunning for second. She's gotten so many strong levels that the only other unit who can beat her in Arena battles is Chloe. She's bulky, decently strong, absolutely insane with Micaiah's Shine active, and just a delight overall. These three are the backbone of the team.

"What about Alear?" Yeah, not gonna lie, Alear's been fairly strength screwed. Not badly enough that she can't manage, but I think it's worth noting that 11 strength at level 13 isn't exactly great. I also wanted to use Etie a bit, but no one has had worse level luck than her. It's bad, guys. It's real bad. Barring the Marth situation, I think Lapis is just outright better than Alear. Less bulky, but just as strong and fast with more room to grow. Alcryst has also taken over as main archer. He's, uh...he's really good, actually. The other big name right now is Anna. I adore that she's an axe fighter, and I kinda love kid Anna being adorable and also a goon. Early access to Hammer and Poleaxe has also made her a really, really good generalist. I just wish she wasn't so...the way she is. Her strength is just slightly too low to one-shot most cavs, her speed isn't fantastic, these weapons come with lower accuracy so she sometimes misses at critical moments, and her luck is really low so she gets crit, which is usually death. It's a lot of problems to have. I don't think this girl would survive Hard mode.

While I do like Alfred, he's just so far behind Chloe, and is more a tank than a well-rounded unit. And I do mean in the physical sense. He's Horse Louis. Res is bad, he hasn't gotten the best speed growth, but he is bulky. Which is good, he'll make a nice backup option. And eventually Chloe will cap Sigurd's ring at rank 10, and it'll be his time to shine.

As for units I don't like...Boucheron isn't doing much. Clanne was incredible right up until Celine arrived and took everything from him. I don't really like Jean, and his growths have been sad for a high-growth unit. I'm not really keen on Jagen characters, so Vander isn't doing much either. I feel like I'm forgetting someone, so if I did, they're in this bucket too.

By tactics...I kinda like these new bigger weapon options. They can smack a unit back one space and potentially into hazards, but they result in the foe attacking first, even on your turn. It's a really cool idea, I just don't know how much it's going to matter. I've also officially started using the guard effect on Framme and Jean. Framme's new-found bulk means she's blocking a metric ton of damage for the team, and it's frankly hilarious. I talked about that whole fog of war issue? Yeah, this was a solution. Block all damage from everything except one ally. Completely stall out the enemy's movements and set them up for a KO next turn. It's great.

The rings are...interesting. I'm going to be honest, I think they're a ton of fun, but also hysterically overkill. Sigurd grants +5 range. +5! Chloe, a flier who cannot be stopped by terrain, covers a map in like two turns. And then gets Canter for another 2 move after combat. It's nuts. Celica's Warp Ragnarok has been a clean one-shot against any foe. It's devastating in the extreme. And Micaiah's Great Sacrifice is a beautiful effect that I've seen give Framme a full level, as late as level 14. Like, that skill is free EXP, man. If someone's behind, just slap Micaiah on them, turn them into a Staff-based utility bot, and let them farm those levels. It's so busted. The only one who doesn't initially seem as busted is Marth, but I assure you, he is. The evade stacking is unreal, any fast unit effectively becomes untouchable. Add in a skill that lets you recover to 20% when under 20% HP after battle, and all I'm waiting for is something that gives me survival at 1HP from a single lethal blow, and you're effectively immortal. It's just so extreme.

But I also think that, for challenge maps anyway, that extreme response is necessary? All foes move instantly, and you start out surrounded on nearly every challenge map. This results in needing some really extreme solutions. Warp Ragnarok, while absurd, also becomes necessary sometimes to snipe out an opponent that could be a problem. Micaiah's Sacrifice becomes a necessary hard reset after a rough round of combat. Marth's evasion is necessary just to stay alive. The only one out is Sigurd, who...might be my favorite, because his utility is just perfect for getting where you need to go. Like, you know those maps where it's like "Oh no! That enemy thief is so close to that chest, they're going to steal that thing!" Sigurd ignores the danger and gets you right to them. Even his big attack is more about movement than damage. I love it. I love Sigurd's ring so much.

The story's reasonably simple, and if my character talk being focused on combat rather than characterization wasn't much of an indication, they're all pretty straight-forward and simple. I like it, though. It's fun in a simple way. They just have to not do anything too stupid with the ending and I think we'll have a decent experience.

On the whole, I'd say I'm enjoying myself a lot. This...might even be the rare Fire Emblem game I attempt to clear on Hard once I'm through the game once. My next mission is getting Lyn's ring, so I'm pretty excited about that. And I met Goldmary! Who...yeah. I like her a lot. Looking forward to that recruitment.

#fire emblem engage

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gingersnappish · 3 years

Text

KYLUX RECS 2020-2021

My Kylux Recs in the last year (Aug, 20 2020 - Aug 20 2021)

SO. MUCH. GOOD. FIC!!! We are really lucky in this fandom to have so much good stuff to read!

Fic is part of the lifeblood of fandom, in my opinion-it shares new ideas and AUs and fleshes out the characters and most of all it inspires and entertains us all and engenders all sorts of feels for the characters-it’s part of what keeps us shipping! So a big ‘thank you’ to all the fic authors out there who work so hard at their craft and are generous enough to share it with all of us!

The following list is by no means comprehensive-there are LOTS and lots more very good fics that have been published in the last year that I haven’t read. I just wanted to offer up a few recs from what I know I enjoyed so far! (I also have more than fits on one list to rec-I’ll try and do another list soon!) As always, I rec based on personal taste, and I highly encourage reading all the tags/warnings on any given work to make sure it’ll be to your taste! -

The Flirtation Of Flowers

DaisyChainz

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29771553

Words: 5,917

Rating: Teen

Summary:Kylo runs his farm's stall at the Farmer's Market every weekend. He has a new customer, a gorgeous redhead that is curious about the meanings of his bouquets. Kylo doesn't know anything about that, so he makes stuff up to keep the man coming back every week.

My thoughts on the rec: This is the cutest slice of a modern AU kylux-it really nails Kylo’s personality as a (slightly awkward) flirt who is trying his best and just really likes the redhead who keeps coming to buy flowers. Just a sweet little fic all ‘round!

all i have to do is dream

kyluxtrashcompactor

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18709426/chapters/44373613

Words: 11,456

Rating: Teen

Summary:Armitage Hux has been going to the same bar every Thursday for the last year, nursing a crush on the gorgeous, unobtainable bartender, Kylo Ren. He finally gets up the courage to ask him out, only to find out he has some unusual competition: the memory of a red-haired boy from Kylo's past, who Kylo swears is the soulmate that got away from him.A fill for this SoftKyluxKinks prompt:Anonymous asked: Benarmie with young Ben (around 11 years old) having a huge crush on Armitage (16). Hux finds it adorable but mostly ignores him because he's a kid. Flash forward a few years when Ben is all grown up and Hux is the one with a huge crush.

My thoughts on the rec: This is another really cute young modern AU! I like the idea that Ren has liked Hux forever, but this deals nicely with the age gap and that Hux really wouldn’t notice Ren back until they are both appropriately older. And they make such a cute couple-it’s a great progression from just ‘he’s hot’-like, there is a lot more to them than that in the end!

Homecoming

sigo

(really, read anything by sigo, it’s all my favorite)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27150808

Words: 13,450

Rating: Explicit

Summary:“We’re off the next two weeks, you know.”“Yes, I know.” There was emergency construction scheduled to fix cracking asphalt too near a pipe in the center of campus. The buses couldn’t run, and that phenomenon was the only thing that ever cancelled classes. Halloween was dead center in the unplanned time off school, and every bar within a fifteen mile radius would be untenable as the students celebrated. Hux was planning on staying home, catching up on grading. He was rather looking forward to an opportunity to reread his favorite novels. They were already stacked by the couch in preparation.“My family always throws a Halloween party and they got word that I could come this year,” Kylo said, shuffling his feet. He looked almost bashful.“Ren, it’s midnight,” Hux sighed at his infuriating coworker. “Get to it.”“I may have informed my entire family previously that we were dating.”

My thoughts on the rec: One of my all-around fav fics from the last year’s worth of my reading material! It’s got the modern AU vibes down pat without losing their personalities or making them too OOC, it’s got the fake-dating trope done REALLY well, it’s got a wonderful creepy vibe strung delicately throughout for the Halloween haunted setting, it’s got plot and make-outs (and more). Can’t recommend highly enough!

Thaw

thesevioletdelights

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28557180/chapters/69982587

Words: 14,316

Rating: Explicit

Summary:They have managed cooperation - efficient cooperation, even - in these past months, which is more than enough. And already nothing short of a miracle for both of them.Still. Ren was a fool to think he could simply run off and keep Hux in the dark.-----When Ren goes missing on a mysterious planet, Hux sets out to find him. He doesn't yet know that he just might find himself.

My thoughts on the rec: This, like all of violet’s fic, is HOT! Like, scorching vibes between them! It’ll draw you in and not let you go ‘til after the boys are ‘done’! And, like all of violet’s fics, the character voices and personalities are also impeccable!

Rocks Break Gifts

elderbwrry

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25840237/chapters/62777839

Words: 16,706

Rating: Mature

Summary:The Rebellion has been crushed, a coup affected, and Supreme Leader Ren and his Grand Marshall Hux have settled into a domestic routine as the joint rulers of the Galaxy. Kylo wants nothing more, now, than to make his relationship with Hux official, but he can't seem to rise to Hux's challenge of a satisfactory proposal.Or, the five times Kylo proposes, and the one time Hux says yes.

My thoughts on the rec: Ahhhhh, the premise in this one is great! Like, I don’t wanna spoil the plot reveal at the end, so I can’t say too much, but there is a really good reason throughout the thing that this is a Five Times type fic and it works! It works so well and while we spend the fic ‘with’ Kylo, when we find out what Hux’s deal is, it is so satisfying! I Paint My Dreams

Marlon

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26685907/chapters/65090566

Words: 26,122

Rating: General Audiences

Summary:Kylo Ren is struggling to make a name for himself in the art world but as the grandson of the great Anakin Skywalker, a legendary pop artist of the 1950s and 60s, the weight of his famous family and his own expectations is a lot to bear.After he’s rejected from a prestigious exhibition because his installations “don’t fit the theme”, Kylo heads to the pub to drink away his disappointment. Later that night as he stumbles home, he’s set upon by some would-be thieves but before they can take what’s left of his money, he’s saved by a strange man with unbelievable Medusa-like powers. The ethereally beautiful man, Armitage Hux, is a visitor from Oweynagat and he has a simple proposition for Kylo - room and board in exchange for making all Kylo’s artistic dreams come true.Sounds easy - what could possibly go wrong?

My thoughts on the rec: Oh goodness, where to start? The Irish Mythology and Fae aspect of this fic is superbly woven throughout the whole thing and the author makes it work really well! Like, this is such a unique and original take on the kylux pair, I love them, especially Fae!Hux in this! And the plot is solid and you get invested really heavily in how they are gonna wind up-at least I did! There’s some beautiful language in this-descriptions and dialogue! And I have a soft spot for Artist!Kylo!

Dating a Monster

mysticmilks

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703904/chapters/65139415

Words: 30,401

Rating: Explicit

Summary:Ben Solo was raised to be a demon hunter, as everyone in his family has been before him. He wanted nothing more than to prove that he was worthy to his family. He lied to them and went on an unauthorized mission to catch and kill an elusive incubus. His search led him to Arkanis University, one of the most prestigious schools in the country.He was sure the mission was going to be easy, before he met the cute freshman Armitage Hux. This meeting would change the fate of both of them.

My thoughts on the rec: Add another really good one to the slightly-creepy-kylux subgenre filled with demons and dark powers! This is a great depiction of Kylo as a very determined demon hunter and Hux as a very unique quarry! I love the tension in parts of this too-well crafted! The Green Ribbon

xzombiexkittenx, Lilander (art)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28630845/chapters/70176921

Words: 39,679

Rating: Explicit

Summary:When Ben was fifteen he left the Jedi temple and took extreme measures to prevent the shadowy creature that infiltrated his thoughts from dragging him to the dark side. What he did left him with a great deal of chronic pain and removed his most valuable weapon, but Ben got his stubbornness from every side of the family, even the adopted ones, and he was determined to find and kill the creature.Now Senator Amidala of Naboo, Ben uses his position to make the galaxy a less awful place when he can, but being senator also gave him very useful contacts in his search for the creature. When he met Major Hux of the First Order, Ben thought he could get game-changing information out of him, one way or another, but things rarely go Ben's way and it got complicated much faster than Ben had prepared for. It's never a good idea to mix sex and politics, but Ben takes his fun where he can get it.

My thoughts on the rec: I feel like this is a very original take on ‘Senator Amidala’ Ben, at least from the stuff I’ve read-many props to the author for such a fleshed out universe, filled with likeable, believable OCs, a wonderful plot, great character motivations and voices, and a take on our main man Ben that pulled me in from the get-go! He’s sorta magnetic (in universe and to the reader)! And the sexual tension and sexy bits are very well done! I’m rooting for Ben and Hux in this, on opposites sides though they may be! Comfort Zone

LydiaBSlade

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26783797/chapters/65338117

Words: 66,766

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Hux is running away. He meets a tall, dark, and somewhat annoying stranger at the airport.

My thoughts on the rec: Travel writing at its best; also kylux fic at it’s best! Young, modern them trying to find their places in the world and finding each other in the process is so cute and almost tenderly done in this! This is a gentle, friendly version of modern Kylo that I fell in love with, right along with Hux! And by the way, I’m not kidding when I say travel writing-the southeast asian setting is vivid and enchanting in it’s rich detail! Outnumbered, Outgunned, Outmanuevered, and Winning

Coriesocks, Ellalba (art)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28217253/chapters/69144672

Words: 80,372

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Hux’s plans for ridding the First Order of Kylo Ren are ruined when Ren discovers his deception. With no choice but to flee, Hux ends up in the hands of the Resistance. It’s not ideal, but at least he gets a break from Ren. Until he doesn’t.When Ren starts appearing in Hux’s dreams, Hux wonders if the stress of being a spy has taken more of a toll on his sanity than he’d previously thought. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he has to deal with constant pestering from Poe and a mildly inconvenient kidnapping. Of course, it’s Ren who saves him in the end. There’s clearly no getting away from him.

My thoughts on the rec: A really interesting take on something that is both a alternate rewrite of what could have happened instead of TROS and a TROS-fix-it of sorts! Hux is stellar in this, we really get a good look in his head and Coriesocks handles it masterfully! I really liked how their relationship develops gradually in this, it’s Enemies To Lovers at its best! Bloodlines and Brandy

EmperorsVornskr

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22989934/chapters/54963601

Words: 130,785

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Sebastian Hux is a native of the Deep South who loathes his origins, and seeks to pull himself from the stifling quagmire, but his bloodlines call him back to the property that has blessed- and plagued- his family for centuries.Unspoken secrets fill his inheritance, skeletons fill every closet, and a monster lurks in the shadows, tied to two bloodlines joined by fate, greed and hatred that has spanned across generations.As Hux learns about his family’s tainted legacy that has now become his burden, he discovers there is more involved than just having to be the curator of property that the locals shun with hushed whispers, that he has inherited more than an estate- he also has a terrible and loathsome horror tied to his very blood.When curious young locals come calling, and Hux’s past tormentors come out of the woodwork to simper and scrabble for a piece of the newly rich, the body count begins to rise, the smell of blood in the old slaughterhouse is getting harder to hide, and Hux realises that he will need to find a better way to pacify the hulking shadow that perches on his roof every night before his hometown’s tiny population is completely decimated.

My thoughts on the rec: This one is EPIC! Like, in length (which it needs every word of for the story that is going on here) and in the great portrayal of Kylo and Hux and their relationship! It’s super original too-not just the plot but the depiction of Kylo as something ‘other’ and the Southern Gothic vibes, and Hux-this is a wonderful take on Hux! He loses none of his edge, in my opinion and yet the reader is ‘with’ him all the way through, rooting for him! The descriptions are killer too-EmperorsVornskr has a felicity of expression that kept me reading (albeit in more than one sitting). Also worth noting that this is a wonderful and carefully handled depiction of trans!Hux, in my admittedly cis opinion. The theme of finding your tribe/your people/and your special someone in this, albeit in sometimes unexpected places is warming! I enjoyed every moment of this fic! Gravity Well

kyluxtrashcompactor

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13062495/chapters/29879001

Words: 176,421

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Snoke is gone, but his death has solved nothing between Hux and Kylo Ren. The First Order's trust in their leaders wanes as they vie for power over one another, and if they cannot learn to work together, they may both lose everything they've worked for.Forging that alliance after years at each other's throats will not be as easy as letting the past die, however—they will face subterfuge, enemies in the shadows, treachery, and being stranded on a hostile planet with creatures out of nightmare, barely escaping constant danger with their lives while having only one another to rely on.And that is just the beginning.

My thoughts on the rec: I realize this one is very well known by now, but I’ll rec it again for good reason! It’s quality long-fic! I love how competent Hux is in this surival-style fic, even without the Force to save him! And Kylo is a badass! kyluxtrashcompactor is a master of the slow burn here and we’re even lucky enough to be getting a sequel (although Gravity Well will also stand perfectly on its own). The writing in this will draw you in and not let you go!

----

That’s all for now! I hope you enjoy reading these as much as I did!

#kylux recs #kylux #fic recs #kylux recs 2021 #i enjoyed these fics

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libraryofnesta · 3 years

Text

Tied to Ruin

ao3 link

Summary:

Cassian and Nesta were lovers, partners in crime. They did everything together. That is until tragedy strikes, causing Nesta to run away, far from everything she once knew.

Over five years later, Nesta is living life to as full as it can get. It’s not until an incident occurs that drags her into far more than she bargained for.

Notes:

thanks so much for reading. i'm a huge hoe for exes to lovers, so i have like 20 ideas in my head, and this is one of them. It's multichapter. i'm not sure how long this is gonna be, but definitely over ten chapter. this fic has two timelines. One will show them from when they're kids to teens, and one while they're adults. Both will occur at the same time, so things will start to unravel as you read.btw! velaris is gonna be like a super small town in new york. like no one knows about it.

TW: implied domestic violence, nothing graphic.

Chapter 1: lonely beds, different cities

Words, how little they mean

When you're a little too late

I stood right by the tracks

Your face in a locket

Good girls, hopeful they'll be and long they will wait

Sad Beautiful Tragic

Taylor Swift

2016, Small Town Velaris

“Please,” she whispers, voice hoarse. Nesta is practically begging at this point, but she has nothing else to relent to. “We can get out of here.” She swallows hard when he doesn’t reply. “We’re still young Cassian, we can still-”

“Nesta.” He says. It's one word, but it makes her pause. He rarely calls her Nesta. It’s always ‘Nes’ or ‘Sweetheart.’

“I can’t.”

Their lives have changed so drastically over the past few weeks. Nesta’s whole childhood is here. Everything she’s ever known. She’s not sure how much more of it she can handle now.

She’s well aware of the tears streaming down her face. Nesta doesn’t know what she can say to convince him, so she says the one thing that she’s been repeating over and over.

“You can…”

Cassian’s face seems to harden. The look he gives her makes her take a step back. He hasn’t looked at her like that in years. “Go ahead and leave Nesta.”, he says, voice rising. “Go live that picture perfect you always wanted. I won’t stop you.”

“Not everyone wants what you do.”

2021 New York, Manhattan

Something about leaving Valkyrians still makes her feel at odds. She’s not as resistant to the sight of blood anymore, and she’s not sure if she can ride a motorcycle as well as she used to. There are still parts that linger though. She still remembers how to throw a punch. A damn good one too. She still feels uneasy when someone walks in the same direction for too long though. It might be the worst part of it all.

Nesta doesn’t do much for fun. She doesn’t dance as much as she likes. The amount of books she reads has decreased. Her days consist of work and eating, even though she skips more meals than she should. But she’s free. That’s what really matters, doesn’t it?

The muscles in Nesta’s body ache. She just finished a seven hour shift, and got a promotion that pays much better. Nesta wants to celebrate. She wants to talk to someone. It’s been so long since she’s talked to anyone. The fear of someone finding out about her past is lodged so deep in her head it caused her to isolate. The simple way of putting it is she has no friends.

Coworkers are the only source of non-work related conversation she engages in. It’s always small talk too. Just as Nesta is about to fall asleep, she rubs her eyes and forces herself to stay awake. Getting up from the lumpy couch, Nesta walks to her cabinet, grabbing a random mug and pouring wine into it. Once she gets a better look at the mug, she can’t help but scoff.

It’s ironic. Complaining about being lonely. It’s almost like she chose loneliness. She loves the quiet. When she was younger, all she wanted was alone time. She dreads it now. Nesta gets up after finishing her glass. She’s a bit drowsy, and is way too tired to walk all the way to her room. Instead Nesta walks back over to her couch. She lies horizontally, staring into the abyss until she eventually falls asleep.

She dreams of seeing him that night. It’s a regular occurrence. It’s lessened over the years, but never fully disappeared. The image of him is blurry. It’s not as precise as it used to be. She hates still thinking of him. It doesn’t stop her from reminiscing a little though.

Her being upset makes sense of course. They’d known each other for over ten years, hating one another at first. Eventually, he began to grow on her. Their bickering had become playful, before they once again became estranged.

“Cassian?”

The figure turns around, and he knocks the wind out of her. His hair is out of it’s usual bun. He gives her that familiar boyish smile, walking towards her and putting an arm on her.

“Missed me Sweetheart?”, he says, ruffling her hair a bit. Nesta scrunches her nose in response.

“You wish.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah whatever.” He talks for a while. Nesta’s barely paying attention. It’s just nice to hear his voice again. He asks her what she’s reading, and she replies the same every time. It’s silent after a while. They’ve talked themselves out. It’s a nice silence though. Her favorite silence.

Cassian stares at her for a few seconds, giving her a soft smile and pushing a loose hair behind her ear.

“Come back,” he whispers.

Her breath stutters. “It’s been five years, Cass,” she mutters, breaking eye contact. Her eyes flicker between the ground and his face, gauging his reaction.

He doesn’t stop looking at her.

“I didn’t want to leave,” said Nesta. There’s a lump in her throat.

He scrubs a hand over his face. “Yet here we are.”

“You know why I left.”

Her eyes feel like they’re beginning to water. “I asked you to come with me. You’re the one who didn’t.”

Cassian looks to the side. He looks impassive, yet also emotionless. “You’re the one who ran away, Nesta.”

“I didn’t run away.”

He scoffs in response. “Keep telling yourself that.” Cassian starts walking away. It’s cloudy and has no solid ground or sky. At that moment she remembers where she really is. Nesta stands there, waiting until he fully fades away. It always feels too real.

The dreams always end like that.

Nesta can barely pry her eyes open when she wakes up. She has the next two weeks off. Her boss, Helion, had insisted she take a week or two off, since the bar was under a small renovation. She checks her phone and it reads 12:03. Jesus, she really had overslept.

In all honesty Nesta had no idea what to do with her free time. Maybe she’ll finally finish that book she started months ago. But in reality Nesta knows all she’ll do is go to a bar and let a stranger fuck her into oblivion until she kicks them out or leaves.

By the time Nesta leaves her house it’s around 3:00. She goes to the coffee shop next door. She orders a coffee and sits in the corner of the room. Nesta somehow feels like the center of attention. It’s an empty shop, but it feels like all eyes on her. The room feels too cold.

The feeling follows her when she goes to the local bookstore. It’s crowded, but the area is quiet. Nesta browses through the shelves, sticking to the romance section. She holds a few books. It’s not until Nesta drops one, people begin to look at her. It makes a loud thump hitting the floor. Several pairs of eyes turn to her. The cover is of a shirtless man too.

Fuck , she thinks, This is embarrassing. Nesta purses her lips, hand curling into a fist as she puts the book back on it’s shelf.

It’s around 5:00 when she takes the train home. Nesta spent the rest of her day at the park, not wanting to stay at home. It doesn’t feel like home as much as she’d like it to though. Finally, Nesta makes it home.

She’s in an empty parking lot. The area she lives in is pretty small. Nesta knows basically everyone in her apartment complex. It’s a tiny place. She never talks to anyone, but they do acknowledge each other. Barely anyone has a car either, herself included. So it is a bit weird to see an unrecognizable car. It’s odd, but Nesta thinks nothing of it. It’s probably just someone visiting.

Nesta goes into her apartment, before leaving once more to go to the bar that’s the second closest to her apartment. She’s usually working at this time, flirting with customers and taking them home when her shift ends.

The bar is crowded and loud. Lights are flashing, voices yelling, bodies moving. It’s out of her comfort zone. She’s been doing this for years and is still isn’t used to it. She sits on one of the stools where the drinks are served. A girl approaches her. Nesta never approaches anyone. She can’t see clearly in the light. The girl’s hair is brunette, though her roots are dark. Her brown skin illuminates in the flickering light.

“Hey”, she says “I’m Nora” Nora extends her hand to her. Nesta smirks in response, resting her elbow on the counter grasping her hand with the other.

“I’m Mila,” she says. No matter what she does, Nesta will never use her real name. Nora’s eyebrows raise. Nesta can see her lick tongue move as it pushes on her skin.

“Pretty name.”

They talk for around five minutes. It’s all small talk. They drink while they talk. Most of the things she responds with are lies anyways. Nora grasp’s her arm with her hand. “Wanna get out of here?” she asks. Her words are slurred, and Nesta has to restrain herself from flinching.

Something in her head tells her not to let anyone in her house though. Something is wrong, but she can’t put her mind on it. The idea of letting a stranger in her house sends goosebumps across her arms. Before, she’d never question it twice. Now that she thinks of it, doing this practically screams stranger danger. Especially with her past, this person could be anyone. Nesta slowly probes herself from the girl.

“I’ve gotta go”, she says. “Sorry, but there's something I need to do.” The girl doesn't seem to mind, either too drunk to care, or only looking for a one night stand. She nods, before introducing herself to someone else. Nesta feels her chest lighten, exiting the crowded bar to call an uber.

Whenever it’s quiet, she always reminisces.

2006, Small Town Velaris

Nesta wakes up and finds herself stranded. She has no idea where she is. She’s lying in a bed inside a mostly empty room. There’s only a few pieces of furniture, a stool and a drawer. It’s relatively small. The last thing she remembers is being in a car with her sisters and parents. She hears voices outside of the room yelling.

“You expect me to leave-”

“Her father is-”

“She’s nine what would she-”

“So what if she’s young!”

“-s innocent so what if-”

She hears a loud smack. The silence after is deafening. The voices are quiet after, whispers. Afterwards, Nesta hears footsteps approaching. She scrunches her eyes shut, trying to pretend to be asleep. Nesta hears the door open and close. A hand lays on her forehead. As the person removes it, a calming voice talks. “Are you awake?” Nesta slowly looks at the person, opening only one eye, then another. She sees a woman with black hair and tan skin. Her cheeks are flushed and she has a small smile on her face.

The woman squats down so she’s the same height as the bed Nesta is laying on. “Hi,” the woman whispers, voice solemn and comforting. “My names Aurora,” she says. Nesta squishes her lips together. She’s confused and feels like crying. Nesta doesn’t cry though. She’s pretty sure her eyes water though, because Aurora strokes her hair and whispers, “It’s okay to cry.”

Nesta gasps and shakes her head. “Mommy says I’m not supposed to cry.” Aurora seems to be shocked silent. The silence makes Nesta become aware of everything that is happening. She slowly sits up. Once her feet are off the bed, Nesta quickly sprints to the door, opening it and running out. She has no idea where she’s going.

Suddenly, Nesta is hit with a hard impact, and falls down on her butt. She looks up and sees two boys. They’re both around the same height. They have the same dark hair too, except one is longer than the other. Nesta gets up and brushes off the dust on her leggings.

She notices it then. The leggings. She’s never worn pants before.

It’s also when she notices the juice smeared across one of the boy's shirts. It’s the long haired one’s. He drops the red cup to the ground and makes an angry noise. “That was my favorite shirt.”

Nesta feels sheepish as she whispers a quiet, “Sorry.”

The one with longer hair whispers to the other boy, obviously meaning for her to hear too. “She’s probably not even double digits.” The other boy is quiet, looking at the ground. He seems nervous and shy.

Nesta feels a sense of outrage course through her. She pouts, crossing her arms. “I’m almost ten. I’m nine and a half” The boy crosses his arms too.

“Well I’m ten and a half,” he says.

“Cassian,” Aurora scolds. “Play nice.” She puts a hand on Nesta’s shoulder and bends down. “I need to talk to…” She doesn’t continue.

Nesta turns towards her, and realizes she needs her name. “Nesta,” she says.

Aurora smiles, “That’s a wonderful name.”

Cassian still seems angry. “I think it’s stupid.” Aurora sighs and gets up. “Azriel”, she says to the other boy. He hadn’t talked the whole time, Nesta almost forgot he was there. “Make sure he stays out of trouble. And Cassian, please change your shirt.” The two (stupid) boys walk away. Once they’re from a far enough distance, Aurora looks back down at her. “I have to talk to you about something.”

2021 New York, Manhattan

Nesta walks into her apartment tired and half asleep. Once inside her apartment, she changes into more comfortable clothes, sweatpants and a grey t-shirt.

Nesta’s about to go to bed, until she hears the sound of glass shattering and liquid spilling. She freezes, thinking about the mug of wine she left out.

No.

Nesta scrambles towards the kitchen and grabs a flashlight from a cabinet, flashing the light to the ground. The mug is shattered to pieces, and she can still see little droplets of wine. The words aren’t visible anymore, letters broken and unreadable.

There’s no way it could’ve fallen on its own. It was in the middle of her counter. Unless...

Suddenly it all makes sense. The unrecognizable car in the parking lot. The uneasy feeling in her stomach. The constant nagging in her head, telling her that something is wrong.

She thinks about calling the police but goes against it. Years in a fucking biker gang taught her better then to trust those scumbags.

She always kept a gun in her house. Just in case. She really hates how no matter what she does. she’ll always be connected to this.

The person inside her apartment most definitely knows where she is. Nesta grabs a broom, sweeping the glass shards into an empty bag. She can fix it later. Tying it up, Nesta leaves it on her counter.

There's a wall blocking the entrance to her bathroom. She walks towards it, opening and closing the door so it seems she went inside. Grabbing her gun from the small drawer, Nesta lays her back against the wall, barely peeking out the wall, but just enough so she can see them as they crawl out from behind her couch.

The figure moves stealthily, back turned towards her. If she weren’t directly staring at it, there would be no way of knowing it was there. The moves look familiar, but she can’t put her mind on it. The moonlight shines on them so she can see the most obvious features. It’s not until the floor creaks the figure turns towards her direction. Nesta turns back to face her bathroom door, hands drawn to tight fists. There’s no way they hadn’t seen her. She moved too slow. Nesta peeks her head out to look again.

It’s not until she sees a familiar pair of scarred hands in the moonlight, it all comes together.

“Azriel Night?”

In dreams

I meet you in warm conversation

We both wake

In lonely beds

In different cities

And time

Is taking its sweet time erasing you

And you've got your demons

And darlin' they all look like me

PSA!! go to ask’s to be added to tag list

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hellimagines · 4 years

Text

Collateral -- JJ Maybank (Part One)

Masterlist

Summary: JJ’s stunt with Barry bites him in the ass when the angry drug dealer kidnaps you and decides you’re JJ’s collateral for the stolen money.

Warnings: kidnapping, violence, angst, mentions of child abuse and drug use

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!Routledge!reader

Word Count: 4,800+

A/N: I started writing this after binge-watching Outer Banks, and before I knew what was happening, I had written 20 pages of this and hadn’t even gotten to the climax… So, this has clearly been broken up into parts. I have part two already finished, and I’m almost finished with part three, but I’m not uploading them tonight because I want this to see the light of day first, and gain some love before I do anything. Please let me know what you guys think of this! I know there isn’t a lot of mushy-feely stuff in this chapter, and it’s mainly angst but, I had so much fun writing this, so please give it a chance and tell me what you think. Also, it’s canon divergent because I tweaked the DCS storyline and everything after John B. finds the first gold bar.

Your shift at The Wreck had been a long and strenuous one, more so than usual, because Kie hadn’t shown up for her night shift which left you to pull a double and cover for her. In your opinion, the nighttime customers were always worse than the morning customers since they typically consisted of kooks and tourons who expected the best of the best and nothing less. You had a short fuse, similar to your boyfriend, and would often get snippy with customers who complained about trivial things: their drinks having too much ice, their salad too much dressing, or their Chef’s Board not enough cheese or the wrong kind of cheese. Kie’s dad kept you on morning and afternoon shifts as much as possible due to the locals of The Cut coming to the cafe during those times, and your ability to make them feel at home while they ate their toast and sipped their coffee. So, having to work a night shift unexpectedly without a break from your morning shift left you feeling exhausted and detached from the world.

As peeved as you were with Kie for pulling a no-call-no-show, you were more worried than anything; especially when you noticed JJ wasn’t waiting outside to walk home with you like he normally was. You hadn’t heard from any of the other pogues since yesterday, when you had to go to work and they went over to Crain Mansion in search of the gold. You would’ve gone with them, but you couldn’t risk missing another day of work and possibly being fired. After your shift yesterday (and noticing the lack of blond curls outside the cafe), you had headed home with the plan to meet up with your friends and learn of any new updates--but, when you arrived, nobody was there. You waited around for the rest of the day, but when 10 o’clock rolled around and nobody had shown, you retreated to your bedroom and fell asleep. When you had woken up around 5 a.m to get ready for your shift at work, you were relieved to find JJ curled around you fast asleep, and your brother, Sarah, Kie, and Pope passed out together on the futon in the living room. They had a pot cradled between the four of them, but you thought nothing of it as you got ready for work. You left behind a note, asking them to stop by The Wreck when they woke up to fill you in on whatever you had missed, but they had never shown up.

Now, as you locked up The Wreck at the end of your 10 o’clock shift and waved to the cooks and other wait staff as you all parted ways, your worry only increased. The Cut was warm and humid as you made your way toward the chateau, forcing you to shed your work shirt in favor of the tanktop laying beneath. Your hair was pulled into a high-pony, and while it had been sleek and put together at 6 o’clock this morning, you now had frizzed strands falling into your face and the bottom of your hair was sticky from an exploded champagne bottle earlier that night. Your feet ached and your hips felt unbalanced from the constant speed-walking and maneuvering around tables and patrons, and you wanted nothing more than to collapse against JJ in your room and sleep for a solid 12 hours straight. Before you could do that, though, you had to continue your thirty-minute walk to said paradise and make sure everyone was okay.

As you left the hustle and bustle surrounding The Wreck and the docks, and ventured further into The Cut, you felt the tension beginning to ease out of your body at the familiar surroundings. As much as you loved The Wreck, you were not a fan of the kooks and tourons that migrated there throughout the night, bothering you during and after your shifts. As expected, the night held the worst of the batch, with alcohol and other drugs filtering their systems and giving them loose tongues and firm hands. Even though you could handle yourself and those who tried making a move on you, you never felt at ease or safe while leaving The Wreck; unless JJ or your friends were with you and you didn’t have to check over your shoulder every few feet. Crossing the imaginary threshold between The Wreck and The Cut always eased your mind, allowing you to slow your steps and cease checking your shoulder. This was also primarily because on The Cut, people knew who you were--not only as a waitress, a pogue, or (Y/N) Routledge, but as ‘JJ Maybank’s girl’. It pissed you off to no-end that people referred to you as ‘JJ’s girl’ more than your own name and you’d often chew people out on it, but you couldn’t deny the protection (and love and warmth and all-things-JJ) it gave you. You and JJ had been dating for two years, and while you loved him more than life and he loved you more than surfing, you often wished you could be seen as your own person: as (Y/N). Regardless of your annoyance at being solely known as JJ’s girl, as you walked the barely-lit streets of The Cut in nothing but a tank top and shorts, you were appreciative of your unofficial title. Very few people were walking around this late at night, but those who were offered you a simple nod or kept their eyes trained on the ground as you passed by, a complete contrast to the tourons near The Wreck. You expected this to continue until you reached your house, no longer looking over your shoulder for an unwanted kook or a touron that didn’t know the rules.

You turned another corner, now only fifteen minutes away from home, and rolled your shoulders to try and release some of the built-up tension you gained from your shift as you walked. You closed your eyes for a brief moment, letting your muscles relax and a gentle breeze from the ocean to cloud your senses. Just as you were about to open your eyes and continue forward, you heard footsteps approaching you from behind. Your eyes shot open and your body turned but before you could see who it was, you felt the barrel of a gun press against your lower back. The metal was cold against your tank top as it dug into you, the owner’s hand coming up to grab your shoulder and keep you from moving away.

“Maybank shouldn’t be leaving his things unattended, especially ones as pretty as you,” a voice muttered into your ear, jabbing the gun harshly into your spine. You froze, trying to place the voice to a face as you heard a vehicle approach and stop beside you.

“I’m not a thing, actually,” you retorted, keeping the fear out of your voice as the man behind you jerked you forward toward the black SUV. The backdoor swung open, but you couldn’t see who was driving it or if there was anyone else waiting for you inside. “What do you want? JJ isn’t his dad, whatever Luke’s done to piss you off is his own problem, not ours.”

The man laughed sharply in your ear as he shoved you forward, causing you to drop your shirt and tumble off the sidewalk, and your torso to fall into the backseat. You yelled out when the man grabbed your legs and pushed your body into the car, your body bending painfully as he slid in beside you. The door slammed shut and the man backed you into the corner of the SUV, caging your body against the door. Your hand shot down to the door handle, yanking on it to open the door and let you fall out, but it didn’t budge.

“Child lock, snowball. You’re not going anywhere.”

You looked up, finally able to see the man’s face as he grinned down at you. His grill shined each time the SUV passed under a streetlight and the black hair dangling in his face tickled your nose from how close he was. Instantly, you brought your foot up and kicked him in the stomach, pushing him away from you as you struggled to sit up.

“What the fuck do you want, Barry?” you snapped while the dealer across from you laughed loudly and held onto his stomach.

He smirked at you, “I forgot how much of a kicker you were, snowball.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been tryin’ to sell blow to fucking 8th graders,” you shot back, glaring at him. “Now tell me what the fuck you want.”

He raised his hands in surrender, the smirk never falling from his face. “I want my fucking money back. You little shits stole 25k from my goddamn house.”

“What the fuck are you on about? The last time I went to your shithole was a year ago to buy an 8ball,” you scoffed.

“And while I do miss the revenue you brought me during your time as a cokehead, I’m not talking about you, snowball. Your boy, your brother, your brother’s new whore, the ex-kook, and Heyward’s son stole from me. I know you’re too smart and levelheaded to pull a stunt like that, and the ex-kook and her boyfriend have too much going for them to fuck it up by crossing me. This means it was either your boy or your brother,” Barry explained, his jaw tight with anger as he spoke.

“First of all, Kie and Pope have names. Second of all, they’re not dating. Third of all, what makes you think it wasn’t Sarah? From what I’ve heard, the Cameron’s have a history of robbing you blind.”

“Because my sister is too much of a pansy to pull a stunt like this, and she doesn’t even know who the fuck Barry is.” Your head shot up at the new voice, and you made eye contact with Rafe in the rearview mirror. “You dirty pogues have corrupted my sister.”

“I see someone’s been bitched,” you chuckled with a roll of your eyes. Rafe’s foot slammed on the break and caused you to slam into the back of the passenger seat with an oomph. He turned around, his arm already raised to throw a punch, when Barry grabbed it first.

“Chill the fuck out, Country Club. Can’t go beaten on her just yet. Now hurry the fuck up and get us to the hanger.” Rafe’s nostrils flared at Barry’s demand, and after a moment of his fist flexing in Barry’s hold, Rafe relented. He jerked his arm back and continued driving in silence. “Don’t piss off the driver, snowball,” Barry tsked, waving his finger in your face.

“Look, why would JJ or Birdie steal 25 thousand dollars from you? You know how much JJ despises you and your business because of what it’s done to his dad and the hole I fell into last year, and my brother doesn’t even know who the hell you are. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Barry chuckled, “I see they’ve kept you in the dark. Did they tell you about the gold they found? That they tried pawning off to me this morning?” At the frown on your face and your furrowed brows, Barry laughed even harder. “Oh yeah, they brought in a seven-pound chunk of gold to the shop this morning. Offered ‘em a cashier’s check worth a couple thousand, but your boy is quite the negotiator. So, I sent them to the warehouse for the cash they wanted.”

“And let me take a wild-fucking-guess: on their way, you jumped them, stole the gold, and left them with nothing but dirt under their nails?”

Barry grinned at your words, his tongue sliding over his grill as he laughed. “See, this is why they should’ve brought you along! Would’ve saved them from all the trouble they’ve gotten themselves into.”

You rolled your eyes, “Well fuck, no wonder they stole from you. You stole from them first, Barry. An eye for a fucking eye, it’s the way of the jungle ‘round here. It’s the only damn law you follow.”

“You’re right, it is the only law I follow. Which is why you’re here, snowball. You see, before I could complete my task, they jumped me and stole my wallet and the gold. You’re smart, I bet you’re starting to see the problem now. No gold, no wallet, no 25k,” Barry seethed, the smirk falling from his face as he leaned forward, pushing you back into the corner of the seat. “JJ Maybank stole from me, plain as day. If I had seven pounds of gold in my hand it would be different, I wouldn’t be as pissed. But, you see, I don’t. So, as you said, it’s an eye for an eye. And what better to steal from JJ Maybank, than the only thing he cares about? The only thing he owns?”

“He doesn’t own me, so jot that down.”

Barry threw his head back and laughed loudly, shooting an unnerving feeling down your spine. Rafe laughed along, though anyone could tell it was forced as his eyes darted from the mirror to the road. “This entire goddamn island knows that he owns you, snowball, and you damn well know it too. Which means until I get my money back, you’re my collateral.”

The bruises decorating JJ’s torso ached with each step he took, but he had to keep moving toward the chateau: he had to prove to the others that he was good. He had to prove that he could do the right thing with the money he stole. Even if his dad couldn’t do the right thing, and wouldn’t let him back in the house without another beating, JJ could do the right thing and be good. Even if he stole the money it didn’t matter, because Barry stole his life, and Barry didn’t deserve the money, and Barry wasn’t good. The money would pay off his restitution, and you wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore and Pope wouldn’t have to feel guilty or worry about it anymore, either. Nobody would have to worry about him anymore, and it would all be good.

But as JJ limped up the chateau’s steps, repeating to himself that, ‘it was all good, he was good, and everything would be good,’ he wasn’t expecting for the screen door to slam open and for John B. to body slam him into the ground. The blue thermos shot from his grip as he was flung down the stairs, and JJ couldn’t bite back his scream of pain when his already-aching body slammed into the dirt. He didn’t get a second to gather his bearings before John B. was pummeling his fists into his stomach and his arms and his face and anywhere else he could land a hit. JJ couldn’t even lift his legs to fight off his best friend from beating on his twice-battered body.

“This all your fault!” John B. screamed, his face an angry red as tears and spit rained down onto JJ. “He took her because of you!” He ceased his punches only to wrap his hands around JJ’s throat, squeezing and pressing down in an attempt to strangle the life out of his best friend.

Faintly, JJ could hear Pope, Kie, and Sarah screaming, but he couldn’t understand what they were saying. His entire body felt cold but his head felt hot, and the buzzing in his ears was growing louder and louder until it was all he could hear. He could see John B.’s face above him, his lips moving as he screamed and sobbed, and JJ could see his own blood splattered on his best friend’s jaw and shirt. Black spots began to dance in front of his eyes, moving inward until he could only see the murderous rage filling John B.’s eyes. Just as the darkness settled over him, he felt John B.’s weight lift off of him and air came rushing back into his lungs. For a few seconds, all JJ could do was choke on the air whilst his body convulsed, and someone rolled him onto his side in a desperate hurry.

“-eathe, breathe JJ, come on.” Someone was talking to him, rubbing their hand up and down his back as he continued to shake. He still couldn’t see anything and he couldn’t tell who was talking to him and rubbing his back and all he really wanted to do was blackout for a bit. A harsh slap against the center of his back had other plans, causing the air to finally force itself into his lungs. JJ began to cough violently, continuing to choke on the air that was now entering his body. He tried pushing himself to his knees as he dry-heaved onto the ground, but his shaking arms and legs were too weak to support him.

Pope was yelling in the background, “Chill the fuck out, JB! You almost killed him!”, his voice bringing JJ’s senses back to where they belonged.

“He fucking deserves it! He’s the reason she’s gone!” John B. yelled back, his voice deeper than JJ could remember. JJ blinked a few times, trying to focus on the bloody grass in front of him while his two friends continued fighting in the distance.

“Hey, just keep breathing,” the person helping him - who JJ now recognized as Kie - soothed, pulling his sweaty hair out of his face as more blood dribbled from his lips. She was upset, JJ could tell by the way her hands were shaking and the sound of wet sniffles every few seconds. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, who John B. was talking about, but all that came out was a harsh wheeze from his burning lungs and even more blood. “Don’t- don’t say anything. Please, JJ, just… just breathe for a few minutes,” Kie whimpered before a sob slipped from her lips.

He did as she asked and allowed his eyes to close, his body sinking into the ground as he focused on regulating his breathing. After a few minutes, JJ could hear John B. storm inside the chateau, kicking JJ’s crumpled body on his way up the stairs.

“John B., stop it!” Sarah yelled as she followed him inside.

Pope came and knelt in front of JJ, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to help him sit up. “You fucked up, JJ, worse than I ever thought possible,” Pope sighed as he adjusted JJ against the railing.

“What-” JJ broke off to cough into his fist, ignoring the blood that splattered across his hand, “what happened?” His voice was hoarse and barely understandable, but Kie and Pope knew what he was saying.

“You stole twenty-five-thousand dollars from a drug dealer. One of the most nefarious drug dealers on this island, that’s what happened,” Kie said, standing up and pacing in front of the blond. “What did you think was gonna happen, JJ? That he’d let it go?”

“What did he take? The HMS Pogue?” JJ rasped, looking up at his friends in confusion. “(Y/N)’ll be pissed, but we can get it back, or I’ll buy her and John B. a new one with the money.” His thoughts didn’t make sense inside of his pounding head, but he still voiced them regardless.

“How are you so stupid?” Pope yelled, causing JJ to flinch as the other to shot to his feet. “Why would John B. try to kill you over a boat? Don’t you think (Y/N) would be out here yelling at you, too?”

“My girl doesn’t yell, you know that, Pope,” JJ shook his head. “She’s got work and the boat- the boat is all they’ve got left of Big John,” JJ said, coughing a few times. His head was foggy and his vision was still blurry, so he couldn’t see the mentioned boat sitting on the dock to his left.

“No, JJ,” Kie sighed, “Barry didn’t take the HMS. He took (Y/N). He left a note on the van--he wants his money back, plus the gold, and an extra 5k in exchange for (Y/N). He’ll be back in a week to make the trade.”

“He didn’t say what he’d do to her if we don’t give him what he wants but… it’s not something that needs to be said,” Pope whispered as he carefully watched for JJ’s reaction.

A cold chill fell over JJ, causing him to shiver violently despite the warm temperature outside. “You’re lying,” he spat, forcing himself to his feet. Pope and Kie backed up, steering clear of his sudden burst of energy. “You’re fucking lying, she’s not- she’s not gone, he didn’t lay a fucking finger on her. Barry knows better. You just… you just want me to return the money, that’s it, she’s fine, she’s inside right now, she’s-”

“JJ, stop, please,” Kie cried as JJ spun around, tripping over himself in his haste to run up the stairs. Pope grabbed ahold of him before he could make it very far, pulling him away from the house and John B.’s anger. JJ flailed in his grasp, but he was too weak from the lack of oxygen and two beatings his body had just endured, to fight Pope off.

“She’s fine!” he screamed, not noticing the tears that were falling from his eyes. “I told her I would protect her, I promised nobody would ever lay a finger on her! She’s inside, and she’s fine--Barry didn’t fucking touch my girl, you’re lying,” he sobbed, straining against Pope’s hold on his biceps.

“Why would we lie about this?” Kie yelled back, suddenly overwhelmed with having to watch JJ fall apart like this in front of her. “Why would your best fucking friend try and beat you to death if it wasn’t true? Why would the gold have been included in the letter? Huh JJ? Do you think (Y/N) would have ever gone along with something like this?” she screamed, her voice hoarse from crying as well.

“We’re telling the truth, JJ. She’s gone,” Pope said, holding onto JJ even tighter as his thrashing momentarily increased.

JJ let the words wash over him, the truth of his mistake settling deep in his bones. The guilt, and the grief, and the anger weighed him down, and before he could stop himself, he let out a deep, guttural, inhumane scream of agony. Pope couldn’t hold him up anymore as JJ’s knees gave out, his entire body collapsing to the ground while he screamed. His throat burned more than it had before and he didn’t notice when his voice gave out, leaving him a mess on the floor with spit and blood dribbling from his gaping mouth. Pope cradled JJ to his chest, crying into his best friend’s shoulder while Kie fell beside the two, trying to get JJ to breathe again through her own tears.

Half an hour later, you were pulling up beside a hanger at the very back of a storage facility. You knew kooks used this area to store their boats, planes, cars, and other expensive things when they weren’t intending to be used in the near future--so you weren’t surprised when Rafe got out of the van and opened up the hanger, revealing a vintage boat and a handful of different furniture. With hurricane season already underway, and summer having begun, you knew kooks weren’t going to be visiting the storage facility very often, meaning there wasn’t a high hope that someone would stumble across you.

“Welcome to your new home, snowball,” Barry leered, before opening the backdoor and dragging you out of the SUV. He kept the gun pressed against your waist while leading you into the hanger, leaving Rafe to pull the SUV around the corner. It was cold inside, much colder than you were expecting, and you had to fight to keep a shiver from trickling down your spine. “You and I are gonna be real comfortable in here for the next week, maybe longer if your boy doesn’t come through.”

‘He’ll come through’, you thought to yourself, worry spiking inside of you at the mention of JJ. You looked over your shoulder as Rafe came into the hanger and loudly pulled the door down behind him. “So, what? You’re just going to keep me locked up in here until you get what you want? I have a fucking job, Barry. I’ve already called out enough as it is, pulling a no-call-no-show for an entire week is going to get me fired.”

Barry reeled around to stare at you, an incredulous look on his face. “I’ve just kidnapped you and held you at gunpoint, and you’re worried about your damn job?” he asked, waving the gun in front of your face for emphasis.

“Uh, yeah, no shit. My job is the only reason DCS hasn’t snatched me and my brother into the system. Mr. Carrera has agreed to help us maneuver a few technicalities with DCS--so long as I take on extra shifts when needed, and show the fuck up. Plus, a week’s worth of zero tips means bills won’t be paid and stomachs won’t be fed,” you scoffed, knocking the gun away from your face.

“I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in, snowball-”

“Ay, nuh-uh, Country Club. Get your own nickname,” Barry cut in, prompting you to raise your eyebrows.

“But you-”

“Nope. Get your own.”

Rafe paused, glaring down at you in thought, before nodding to himself. “I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in, Maybitch-”

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” you groaned, pressing your fingers to your forehead in exasperation. ‘It’s got a nice ring to it, though, and JJ would eat it up… Could even get a laugh out of Pope, I bet,’ you couldn’t help but think.

Barry knocked the gun against Rafe’s shoulder, shutting him up with a look of annoyance. “Your boy has gotten himself in a lotta trouble, 25k worth of trouble. So until I get my fucking money, you’re not going anywhere,” Barry simplified.

You pouted in mock disappointment, “Could you at least write a note to my boss?” Barry groaned with a roll of his eyes before he nodded his head at Rafe and directed him toward something you couldn’t see. “Look, I’m gonna be honest with you, Bear. JJ and the others have probably spent the money already. JJ’s got restitution to pay, Pope has an interview he needs a suit for, Kie’s been wanting a new surfboard, and Birdie’s been wanting to fix up our boat with somethin’ pretty. There’s no way they’d let 25 thousand dollars burn a hole in their pockets.”

Barry chuckled darkly with a shake of his head and turned your body around. He forced you to face the spot he had sent Rafe to, where you saw a metal chair bolted to the ground with Rafe stood beside it. He held a boat chain, a lock, and zip ties in his hands and a wicked grin was cracked along his face. Barry moved your ponytail out of the way so he could lean his chin on your shoulder, taking satisfaction in the way your body trembled. “Trust me, snowball, after they see how well you’ve been treated at Hotel Barry, they’ll find a way to get me my money. And you,” he paused to laugh softly in your ear, “you’ll be providing me all the information I need on where to find the rest of that gold.”

‘I’m so fucked.’

All Writing Taglist (OPEN): @sophster1881 @alilcloudy

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks imagines #outer banks x reader #the pogues #the pogues imagine #the pogues imagines #the pogues x reader #outer banks netflix

3K notes · View notes

ghostiiiee · 3 years

Text

Just Like Me

To read at my Ao3 CLICK HERE This is the first chapter. sorry is its a little rough. :sweatdrop:

Almost forgot! Tw: i will be going heavy on quirkless discrimination and mental health issues. Theres not much in the first chapter but i do want to touch on it at some point.

School was never something he looked forward to. After all, what was there to look forward to? He was used to getting bullied, made fun of for being different, called names, shoved around. The irony wasn’t lost on him. Many years ago, maybe he would have been the normal one?

Then again, what even was normal?

It used to be normal to go to school- learn history, math, science and whatever language the school taught.

It used to be normal to not have any powers, after all - superheroes were a dream. Stories people made up to tell themselves. Heroes existed, yes, but they never had powers. Heroes were just people, average people.

Again, there's another word that's changed. Average.

Normal. Average.

Two hundred years ago, it was normal for the average person to look human.

Two hundred years ago, it was normal for the average person to have no powers.

Two hundred years ago, it was normal for superheroes to only be a thing of stories.

That was two hundred years ago. Not now.

Now it's weird to not have powers.

Now you get bullied for being regular. Quirkless.

One of 20%.

Mathematically, he thought it was stupid that so many people get treated so differently. He did remember Mr. Lancer telling him of people getting treated for less. Mr. Lancer told him two hundred years ago, 10% of the population was seen as satanic because of what hand they used to write with. A similar estimated percent was discriminated against because of who they loved, or what they identified as.

“Sadly, Mr. Fenton, the human race has a history of not tolerating those who they see as a minority.”

“I remember that from history Mr. Lancer.” Danny sighed, leaning his head on his hand. His eyes stared out the window, looking at the stormy weather. “I remember you talking about how things used to be.”

The teacher pursed his lips, staying quiet and looking at him with concern.

Lancer had asked Danny to stay after class to speak to him. He never did like how Daniel’s peers would gang up on him after school ended. The best he could usually do was this. Casper’s principal was... far too likely to be accepting of anything the more wealthy students’ parents had to say.

“Is that why you’ve been spacing out all day then, Danny?”

It was asked gently. Danny’s eyes glanced over to the balding teacher before darting back to the window. He hummed for a moment. “...Kinda. I got a lot on my mind.”

“Penny for your thoughts then?” Lancer pulled his chair next to his desk.

It was quiet for a few minutes, the sound of rain gently pattering against the classroom windows filled the room while Danny collected his thoughts. Blue eyes watched raindrops roll down the glass.

“I don’t get it, Mr. Lancer.” His voice was quiet as the floodgates opened. “Everyone in my family has quirks. Dad is strong. My mom can copy anyone’s fighting styles just by watching. Jazz can look at someone and-.... well you know.” He sank down into his chair. “Aunty A, even has a quirk. I've never seen her miss a shot. And then there's me. Daniel James Fenton. The first quirkless person in our family in a long time. Don’t get me wrong either, it doesn’t bother me too much.” Liar. “It’s just... it feels like the cherry on top of everything else.

“My parents got an invitation to teach some classes at UA in Japan. In Japan, I've never lived anywhere but here. Amity Park. It’s not like they can leave me here. PLUS, Jazz has always wanted to go there for the General studies.”

“I understand your concern, Danny. But I’ve seen your work,” There was slight amusement in Mr. Lancers voice. “Aren’t you good at building things? I know I’ve caught you tinkering with something more than once in class.”

Danny’s face flushed red. “...My parent’s usually make those. They’re old models of support gear they have made. I was seeing if I could get a glitch out.”

“And?”

“...I keep shocking myself.” He mumbled. “It hurts like hell.”

“While I can’t say I’m happy that you are getting injured. As long as you are safe, I'm glad.” Mr. Lancer offered a smile to the teen. “As for the other predicament, you are always open to contact me if you need me after you move.”

“Thank you Mr. Lancer.”

~~~~~~~

Danny was thankful that they moved over the summer and not in the middle of the year. School was already hectic enough as was. Moving in the middle of the year was not something he ever wanted to do, let alone moving across the globe in the middle of the year.

He kept to himself for the first few weeks. He liked to walk around, exploring the new area. It felt different than Amity park. More crowded. He noted early on there was definitely more hero around too. It didn’t bother him too much.

That's a lie.

More heroes means more villains.

He didn’t like villains.

He also didn’t like being a hostage.

Lucky him!

He was held hostage by a villain not even before the end of the second week. Not that this was a first time experience for him, having been a favorite target back in Amity Park. He knew all the heroes back home personally because of it. People just loved to take quirkless people hostage. One would think, with the target that seems to hang over his head, that Daniel James Fenton wouldn’t take such risks as walking around alone at night. One would think that if he did, it would be out of necessity, and he would at least have something on him to defend himself.

...yeah no that's not the case. Why in the world would that be the case?

Danny was shoved onto the ground, air leaving his lungs as he hit. He gasped for air, trying to look at who was targeting him now. He couldn’t really tell much about the person, ratty clothes and a hoodie pulled up to cover their face. Nothing could be seen under the hood, it was just shadow, pure, black shadow.

“What’s a runt like you doing out right now?” The villain crouched next to Danny. Chuckling when he tried to scoot away. They put a foot on one of Danny’s wrists, “Ah-ah. Now that’s rude. I’m talking to you punk.”

Danny didn’t respond, wincing at the pressure on his arm.

“It’s rather rude to ignore your elders.” The villain put more pressure, adjusting so they were crouched like a vulture next to prey.

“F-fuck you. I’ve seen worse.” He growled

The regret in saying that was nearly instant. In the blink of an eye, the ground next to his head - that was solid concrete what the hell- was shattered. The villain was making an inhuman noise, a low gutteral sound coming from them. “You haven’t seen my worst. I wasn’t gonna do much to ya, but I’m starting to change my mind kid.”

He knew he should do anything else - he was already on a thin line - but fuck it. He had a free hand anyways. He grabbed something from his pocket and slammed it against the villain. “As I said before. Fuck. You.” He pressed the button on the side.

The machine sparked to life. Quite literally. Danny still didn’t know what it was supposed to do, but he could make it shock things. Like a weird taser. Unlucky for Danny he was literally pinned to the ground beneath the villain getting tased. And as everyone knows. Humans are conductive. Very conductive.

Strangely the villain didn't even flinch. The growl getting louder as they grabbed the device from their shoulder and crushed it with their hand. Danny started shaking. Okay so that was a horrible idea.

The shadows of the alley gathered around the villain. Climbing up their clothing and slowly slithering along their arm. They held Danny down, forming chains around him. In the villain’s hand, a knife, absorbing all light, The villian made the move to attack, and Danny closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to come.

It never did.

It lessened.

Weight lifted from him, a weight he hadn’t realized was there besides his arm. Tentatively he opened his eyes.

The villain was on the ground a few meters away from him, knocked out and tied up to a fire exit- similar to how Batman would leave criminals for the cops. Danny blinked. He hadn’t heard anything. So what in the world happened? And how could that have happened so fast?

Standing up, he looked around for a sign of anyone being there to help him.

Oddly enough. It seemed no one had caused the villain to go down, at least not that Danny could see. Blue eyes scanned the area for a moment, looking for anything that wasn’t there before. Nothing popped out. Nothing was out of place. It looked like no one had been there.

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. The air condensed, forming mist as it left his mouth and floated away. It was like when he first stepped outside in the winter. Which was strange- it was the middle of summer. A small frown formed on his face. The nights here weren’t that cold normally.

He brushed it off, ignoring the goosebumps running along his skin as the air chilled. Perhaps whoever knocked the villain out had a rather cold quirk, he mused to himself. Heroes normally make themselves known at this point, checking to see if he was okay.

He had an inkling it wasn’t a hero. At least not a licensed one. Not that he minded. He didn’t care who it was really. They saved his life… he was grateful for that.

Danny looked up to the clear sky, moonlight peaking over the buildings enough to illuminate the alley where the street lights glowed. He smiled up to the stars. “Thank you.” He said softly. “I wasn’t paying attention tonight.”

He left the alley, starting his way back home. He never caught sight of the figure watching him.

#Danny Phantom #danny fenton #mha x dp #bnha #mha

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tungstenb · 2 years

Text

20 Callbacks You May Have Missed in SAtS Chapter 20

I've mentioned before that I wrote SAtS completely out of order---while my outline was solid and I never did stray from it (besides some last-minute restructuring of my odd chapters), I navigate writing 100% by intuition, as if I'm cutting out and coloring individual puzzle pieces only to find that they do, in fact, miraculously fit together once I lay them all out. That being said, 20 is teeming with callbacks not because I'm some genius of planning, but because it was the first chapter of SAtS that I'd drafted.

Chapter 20, as you probably caught, contains SAtS's central premise---or at least an unreliably narrated version of it.

I know I don't have the kudos to justify making posts analyzing all the BS effort I put into writing, but I do have a small handful of readers who (correctly) treat SAtS like a novel rather than a fanfic, and I wanted to draw attention to things fans may have missed. These are just off the top of my head; there are far more references I’ve forgotten, for sure.

Long and self-indulgent. You've been warned.

(1) Describing Liara's med-bay "quarters"

The opening paragraphs are in reference to the headcanon I introduced in Chapter 4 (that eidetic memory is common in asari) as well as the later details I added regarding their biotic field sixth sense (you can't manipulate the mass around you if you can't somehow sense/feel/map it innately).

Specifically, the snack wrappers are a callback to "NutriBrick, Made With Real Peanuts!" from Chapter 4; the color-swirl glass teacups are the same ones she purchased in Chapter 6; and the whining ventilation duct is mentioned... many times in previous chapters.

(2) Failing at meditation

Most of SAtS's plot occurs within Liara's head, and this chapter is no exception. In the earlier even chapters, Liara uses mind-partitioning/meditation as a tool to distract herself from her real trauma: the incident on Therum, the fate of the Protheans, her mother's death, and, you know, Reapers. Her obsession with Shepard as an artifact/romantic interest is very convenient, even though it backfires catastrophically, and I've spared no effort lampshading this in SAtS. If she spent as much time thinking about the fate of the galaxy (incomprehensible terror) as she did thinking about Shepard (hahaha, silly crush), she'd cook her mind.

(3) Door knocks

I'm not going to go back and try to find every example of Liara waxing poetic about something as mundane as Shepard knocking on the med-bay door. They're there; you can find them; but here's a single example, one that tickles me because of the nested parentheses.

Chapter 18:

After meditation and tea, her afternoon likewise progressed without incident or interruption, though that, while not unusual in itself, was not was she'd hoped for: she'd long since grown accustomed to answering a daily knock at her door. (And not only were both Dr. Chakwas's and Shepard's knocks wholly distinct, like two different percussive languages, but Liara'd learned to tell even their approaching footsteps apart, so there was never any question who she'd greet.) Approximately 60 percent of her days saw Shepard stop by between lunch and dinner. And even on those days, she occasionally visited again later in the evening (with information to share or a specific question to ask, but always a nonurgent correspondence that could've been handled easily via messaging, nonetheless [How did I ever perceive this as insignificant... Liara thought, with mild bashful self-admonishment. She really was going out of her way to spend time with me]).

Chapter 20, with role-reversal becoming a theme:

It was 2314, and for the first time since coming aboard, Liara decided she would knock on Shepard's door.

(4) P-Shep's body language

One of the first things Liara notices upon entering P-Shep's quarters is her body language: slumped, distracted, perhaps nervous. Chapter 20:

Shepard, in a gray T-shirt and boxer shorts, sat slouched over her desk, eyes closed, mouthing silent words. She opened her eyes, resumed typing---likely whatever she'd just spoken to herself---but gave no indication of acknowledging Liara's presence. There was something unfamiliar about the set of her shoulders, the slight sullen tilt of her head, the shadowy gaunt of her features in the orange glow of her terminal; something unusual about the room's thick buzzing tension squeezed the air from Liara's lungs. Lingering by the door, she stood frozen in place, trapped breathless and mute by a coil of anxiety and fresh waves of shame. Whatever anger had emboldened her earlier dissolved, dissipating uselessly.

She opened her mouth to speak but found no words.

Shepard stopped typing and closed her eyes again, exhaling heavily.

Liara tried her words once more.

"Is this a bad time?" she managed, just above a whisper.

Shepard leaned forward and rested her cheek in one hand, elbow on the table. Kneading her brow, she turned a half-obscured face toward Liara.

"No... no. No. It's fine," she said, shifting to rub her eyes with both hands. Dropping her palms with a clap to her bare knees, she met Liara's gaze directly only to look back down a second later. "I---I'll make tea."

This is a reversal of the interaction in Chapter 14, when Shepard checks in with Liara after Noveria:

Behind her, Shepard took a slow, deep breath in, then exhaled. "I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through right now," she said, voice low and oddly wooden. "And I realize I'm probably the last person you want standing here, so if you want me to leave, please tell me as much, and I will."

Liara's jaw tensed as she balled her fists in her lap. There was a correct course of action here and she didn't, in her current state, trust herself to follow it. What she wanted, what she needed, what she knew was proper to expect or to ask, all stood in conflict with one another, trapping her in paralyzing indecision. Every muscle held in calculated rigidity. Her breathing tight and shallow. Her emotions---emptiness, yearning, anticipation, despair---nearly bursting from her chest.

She knew how Shepard would interpret inaction in this case. Knew if she remained frozen as she was, Shepard would take the hint and leave. What would she regret more? Telling her to leave, indirectly or not, when the thing she wanted most was for her to be here with her? Or forcing her to stay and having to deal with the guilt, the repercussions of overstepping and asking too much?

Where was her strict compartmentalization now? The strength she'd developed by Shepard's example? The independence her mother had instilled in her?

Liara leaned her weight into her arms, hands pressed into her knees, and hung her head. Without turning an eye toward Shepard she rose from her seat, flipped the switch to turn on her desk lamp, then activated her tea kettle before taking the few sulking, heavy steps to her cot, where she sat down with her back to the wall and tucked her legs up to her chest.

(5) "Look at me."

(This entry should be the last if we're going by each lines' appearance in 20, but I wanted to end on something a bit more significant so I've moved this entry up.)

In 20, Liara says this:

"Shepard. Shepard, look at me." Liara gave her arms a squeeze, then another, until she complied. "You know I'd do anything for you."

P-Shep uses "Liara, look at me" several times in earlier even chapters, as Liara has a tendency to avoid eye contact. The first instance is in Chatper 2!

Again, yet another example of the role-reversal.

(6) Legal stimulants (even though it’s herbal “tea” in 20)

I jokingly refer to SAtS as "character development through tea," mostly because P-Shep's interactions with it are fairly revealing and hint at deeper plot elements (it should be obvious by this point in the flashback chapters that Peesh is hiding her biotic status from Liara). Eezo contaminants or not, the tea in Chapter 20 is another aspect of the role reversal I'd planned. Presumably Shepard went and purchased the same fancy tea kettle model that Liara purchases in Tayseri Ward (Chapter 6).

Chapter 20:

Eleven days. Liara'd originally written off the observation as a mistake, having noted the tea kettle box when she stood here that day, eleven days ago---because as far as she knew, and had known, Shepard only ever drank coffee. So but standing here now, with the water temperature rising and Shepard's fingertips drumming dap-dap-dap-dap-dap, Liara's chest grew tight, her head swam, her heart leapt with surging emotional pangs, sudden and almost physically incapacitating. Shepard, Liara realized, had either purchased tea supplies for herself---had either taken a genuine liking to tea via Liara's influence, or was attempting to acquire a taste-or expected Liara to visit her, here, real or imagined impropriety aside.

Which leads us to...

(7) Eleven Days

The vignette structure of Chapter 18 is set up like a daily journal, where Liara notes each day that Peesh avoids her, from Day 1 to Day 11.

Discussion of Peesh's emotional abuse in Chapter 19:

"That, young Dr. T'Soni, is a very... dangerous... mindset. I am... I am unsure what to say, other than frankly I'm appalled on your behalf." [V'Leera] laughed disdainfully. "And to question your judgment if she was like this from the start."

Liara puffed air out her nose. "No, no she was not. Her first transgression... she went and moped in her room for eleven days without talking to me, and I, at the time, thought that was awful."

"A test?" questioned V'Leera. She flicked the rock she held, and it drifted slowly down and settled on the surface of the water, floating there, tapping against the boulder's side.

Chapter 20:

Of all the things it could have been, the emotions boiling just shy of making her flare her biotics were not due to something that made sense:

It had been eleven days since Shepard had last knocked on her door, and Liara was on the verge of a fit.

(8) Model ships and mint tea

This is just to showcase some of the more atmospheric stuff I've written. Goes to show that the moment portrayed in 20 was fairly significant for her.

Chapter 17:

"And now I lie here," Liara went on, raising her head to view the room, "and it's as if I cannot make sense of what happened. Attempting to keep her alive in ways I knew would destroy me; wondering from whom this originated: I do not understand who I am either with or without her." Her voice became small. "I feel lonesome without her. Our child is gone. But... but Petra is here, she's still here in the wisps of memories that surface when my eyes linger on, say, that model of the Destiny Ascension..." She pointed to the model-ship display case so Tali could follow her gaze. "I remember it like it was yesterday, when I first stepped into her quarters on the SR-1... it was the first model I'd witnessed her build. The flagship of my people. She later finished it, then promptly moved on to constructing a relay. When I visited her next, eleven days later... her fingers stained with metallic-toned paint, the scattered pieces of the relay strewn about the table, the taste of the mint tea she'd made for me lingering on my tongue and the heaviness trapped within me just waiting to burst forth... that's when I realized we were inseparable. That we were both meant to be." Liara paused, returning her head to the bed after one last long look at the scale-model ships. The mock-eezo gleamed. Tali's boots tapped absent nonrhythms on the floor.

Chapter 20:

Liara stepped slowly toward the table as if navigating difficult terrain, choosing a seat offering tabletop space unlittered with relay flotsam. She shifted, fidgeted, rubbed at her crest, then, with nervous hesitation, reached out to examine the scale-model relay's core. The substantially weighted clear marble, solid and polished to high gloss, fluoresced in the light as she turned it in her fingers, its thready internal glasswork strands of inert mock-eezo finessed into a mesmerizing glowing burst. Shepard coughed quietly. Liara froze and glanced furtively but found Shepard fully turned away, not staring with reproach. She set the core back down regardless; it rolled to contact one side of its corral of unassembled gyroscope pieces, the table unbalanced. The tea kettle clicked as the heating cycle finished, and Liara squeezed her eyes shut against another wave of guilt incoming.

[...]

Liara studied the color of the tea in the drab ceramic mug, if only to delay. She took a breath to speak, turned the mug by its handle, looked up. Shepard's eyes were sunken and tired and heavy lidded, darkened with purplish circles, and Liara had to close her mouth on her thought. She watched curls of steam rise from the tea's amber surface. Each rapid heartbeat thumped, powerfully pronounced, rippling through her extremities as she sought a sense of calm from the cooling warmth of aromatic mint. She rubbed uneasily at a scuff on the tabletop. Still she found her eyes wandering, lingering instead on Shepard's hands, her skin stained with silver-gray paint, her fingernails bitten to the point of bleeding.

As above. Chapter 20 has some of my favorite prose, which, incidentally, seems to be the type of prose people in fan spaces LOVE to roast.

***(9) "Girl, no."***

Chapter 20:

Had Liara known her for anything other than candor and levelheadedness, transparency and capability, perhaps the embers of her frustration wouldn't have been so readily rekindled. But Shepard's obvious deflection and obfuscation, her speech laced with bitterness despite sounding otherwise bland and unforthcoming, was altogether vexing. Liara readied herself as she waited for Shepard to speak, determined to crack her uncharacteristic facade. And Shepard owed it to her: a full, honest answer. If Liara was at fault---despite this flimsy initial insistence that she wasn't---it was imperative she knew what cultural or interpersonal misstep she had committed, egregious or not, to have warranted such avoidance. Even if it meant a simple apology for the hurt and concern Shepard had caused her would be an afterthought.

Unreliable narration: see Shep's behavior in any other even chapter. When DollyLlama read this, she yelled "Liara, girl, no, literally the opposite!!" at me and she is Right.

***(10) Self-sabotage***

Liara slowly begins to accept, in the odd chapters, that her relationship with Peesh was unhealthy. Part of this involves Liara reflecting on Peesh's harmful coping mechanisms during their time together. (In the even chapters, she fails to recognize the red flags---or is convinced she can somehow "fix" Peesh.)

Chapter 11:

But there was a terrifying side to [Shepard], a selflessness that verged into reckless sacrifice, the overlap with her lingering death wish a frightening reality paired with her tendency to charge---often literally---into danger, without hesitation and with no regard to her own continued well-being or for the sanity of the people who loved and cared about her. It was as if she lived for the responsibility that had befallen her, but at the same time, wished to be free of it.

(Also discussed in Chapter 19; see point (15) below.)

Chapter 20:

"Do you really want to know why I was avoiding you?" she said, voice gentle but tinged with hesitancy.

Liara sniffed. "I think I already have an idea."

Sighing again, Shepard sank, her gaze shadowy and her tone low and blunt. "You're probably thinking I'm afraid of commitment, or afraid of my own feelings, or set on an inevitable course of self-sabotage like some sort of fuck-up, and yeah, you probably thought right."

See quote for (17), which fits here too.

Liara please... listen to her, she's not self-flagellating without cause. She's being honest, and that should scare you.

***(11) Fairness***

Shepard mentions several times an aspect of "unfairness" (read: power imbalance) to the relationship; she's right and she should say it. The only appropriate thing ANY Shepard can do in ME1 is turn Liara down. I've discussed this in much more detail here.

Chapter 16:

"Could've been catastrophic had I misread. But either way," [Shepard] added, shrugging. "Wouldn't've been fair."

"To me?"

Shepard smiled without mirth.

Chapter 20:

Shepard inhaled sharply through her teeth. "Liara, I know you've come to think that you know me, but I assure you that's not the case."

"I'm getting to know you." Liara gave Shepard's hand a gentle shake of reassurance and forced a smile. "I know our time may be limited, but I'd like to continue to do so, if... if that is something you want, still."

"I do," Shepard said emphatically, but as if it pained her. "But I keep asking myself if that's fair to you."

The boss/employee dynamic is already sketchy, but everything we know about Liara in-game adds to the relationship’s unfairness.

(12) Saren strangles Shep on Virmire

I really have no reason to include these excerpts other than the fact that the paragraph ending in "carotid" is one of my favorite paragraphs/transitions in all of SAtS. I was laughing my ass off when I wrote it.

Chapter 18:

[Liara] bit her lip; whatever she'd eaten last wasn't sitting right, and her ankle was sore, and the room was cold, and Shepard's voice was flat as she addressed them all. But Liara couldn't look at her. Could only silently analyze the way she said "deeply saddened" and "thankful for her sacrifice" in the practiced manner of someone who felt nothing, or had stood in front of a mirror repeating a heartfelt speech until its meaning sloughed off, the only thing remaining the words' bare sounds themselves. But her conversational stutters, her false starts, indicated to Liara that wasn't the case; she was speaking extemporaneously, standing there in the comm room's center, shifting her weight, cracking her knuckles, occasionally letting a hand drift to the raw red smear on her neck from when Saren had strangled her. Her voice wasn't laden with excess sadness, and she held herself proudly, if with mannerisms suggesting hidden tetchiness.

Chapter 20:

Shepard shrank away and didn't say anything, rubbing the back of her neck. The bruises from when Saren had strangled her were now dark purple, not yet progressed to yellowish green---that would take a bit longer, several more days for her body to break down her blood's red cells and reuse the hemoglobin. Her pulse was visible as Liara stared. Unbidden, her mind supplied a word Dr. Chakwas'd taught her: carotid.

***(13) "Purpose" (i.e. oh big yikes holy shit)***

From Chapter 14:

"I wish I had the words to make some sort of difference," she continued, voice level but almost brittle. "And I wish I could say something that would make things right but I can't. I know I can't. Honestly I---I don't understand how you can stand me to be here, I... I didn't think you'd want me to be. But I'm here for you, I'm here because I can tell right now you need someone I just..." She swallowed. Tightened her arms as Liara shook again. "Why it's me, I don't get that. I'm not... I'm not good at this."

Liara tried and failed to inhale deeply through her sobs, not yet prepared to speak, though her thoughts were desperate and incredulous: Really? "Why you"?

She shifted, squeezing her eyes shut as her face stuck to Shepard's shirt soggy with tears and unfortunate snot. And as she she sniffled, as she clutched at the bunches of fabric growing hot in her clammy hands, as she pressed into her chest, trying to find any additional means of closeness, she breathed into her, wondering what soap or cologne lent her that fragrance, fresh and warm and somehow familiar even though it was a scent she could not place.

Because you've always been there for me? Because you're the only one I could go to?

It wasn't strictly true. She could have sought out Dr. Chakwas or even Tali---but she had not.

It hadn't even crossed her mind.

Also 14:

"Because my purpose is here," Liara said, before she could stop herself.

It would be difficult for Shepard to argue whether staying was purposeful. Still, Liara shuddered, hiding it with an overenthusiastic sniffle, startled when her mind added, or amended, or specified, Because you are here.

Chapter 20:

"I should not have to remind you I am my own person," Liara said, "and thus can make my own informed decisions. And I am only stronger because of what you've given to me, what you've taught me, on this journey. Let me provide for you personally. I want to."

"See, that's... that's what I'm talking about." Her sardonic laugh, then, sounded almost like a whine. "I can't be your purpose."

...implying that P-Shep knew, all along, about Liara's unhealthy level of attachment.

The Chapter 14 quote is an example of my erring on the side of overexplaining; I recognize that casual readers make up the majority of any fanfiction's audience and won't catch subtler themes. (I hate spoon-feeding, but it is what it is.) Careful readers will recognize at this point that "my purpose is here" has a troubling dual meaning, as it refers both to Liara's occupation on the Normandy and her obsession with Shep (as artifact, as love interest): in many ways, as I've illustrated, they're one and the same, which is much of the impetus for Liara's psychological downfall.

***(14) Liara is uncertain about who Shepard really is***

Chapter 8:

Two weeks of casual chats had solidified the concept in her mind that the person Shepard was when she tapped on the door of the med storage room was a different version of herself than she presented elsewhere. Even now, as she idly flattened her hair with her free hand, face set in blank and placid stoicism, it was as if she were saying something in her silence, eyes offering the depths of some inexplicable and indescribable nonverbal connection.

Chapter 10:

Back behind closed doors, [Shepard] showed Liara a striking gentleness, almost at odds with her behavior in public and her intensity in combat. But while she could be tender, her vulnerability was deceiving, superficial---an inherent dichotomy, she was honest yet reserved, like an open book with lines redacted.

Chapter 20:

"You are not a different person behind closed doors," Liara asserted. Shepard looked distant, compact, unstable---something within her threatening to buckle as Liara spoke. "I don't see you any differently just because you've let your guard down."

Which is it, Liara? When did your opinion switch? Are you sure you're sure about this?

***(15) Avoidant personalities in relationships with asari == problems***

Chapter 14:

They both drank their tea in a silence that stretched on uncomfortably, until at length, Shepard spoke up again.

"I'm sorry things turned out the way they did," she said, voice heavy with remorse, obviously fumbling in her attempts to break the silence. "I..."

She didn't continue her thought. There was a distinct uncertainty in her voice, an odd, thin quality like it was just on the verge of cracking. Liara glanced aside, tried to study her face, held eye contact as if she could glean the thought and emotion behind Shepard's limited ability to articulate. She found no indication she was anywhere near tears, her expression measured and unreadable, her gaze unwavering and presence solid.

It would be a huge breach of trust to try to reach for her mind. Between asari it may have been different, when a friend or family member would be implicitly expected to initiate a shallow meld in this instance. A gesture of familiarity, an attempt to understand and heal and facilitate communication when the other party was obviously struggling. But even if Shepard were asari, had their friendship crossed the necessary threshold of closeness? Would Shepard be willing to subject herself to that level of vulnerability?

Why even bother with such abstractions?

Chapter 16:

"Between asari," Liara began, "melding is simply another means of communication. Even before we are born, our mothers reach for us. And as we grow, we use this ability to greet loved ones, to communicate emotion, to exchange information. It is only natural for us to reach for one another, but as you are human..." She paused. "I wanted you to know I would never do that intentionally, not without your permission."

Shepard studied her for a moment. "You said 'intentionally.' Is that for a reason?"

"Yes. Sometimes when... when two have joined, and joined deeply, harmoniously, their minds may spill into one another's in sleep. One may reach for another unconsciously."

Shepard said nothing, eyes fixed on her---but she seemed to stare not at Liara but somewhere distant, as if staring through her, lost in thought. Liara stopped herself from (physically) reaching out by forming a first beneath her chin.

"Does that startle you?" she said, voice small.

While serene, Shepard's expression still suggested her mind was adrift. "Not at all."

"Perhaps I am speaking rashly." Liara chuckled, half-embarrassed. "I do not believe it is a reasonable concern. Reaching such subconscious synchronization, such familiarity, takes time and frequent joining. Even for many asari–asari couples."

Shepard blinked a few times, and her eyes lost their glaze.

"True joining," Liara clarified, "when two become one." She enunciated clearly, poetically, authoritatively. "Swept up in one another---a single rapturous whole."

That got a smirk out of Shepard, who then too started chuckling.

Liara felt silly. "Shepard. What?"

It took a few attempts for Shepard to manage her response: "No secrets in the bone zone."

Chapter 19:

The scattered cups of peeled fruit skin Liara'd tossed into the pond drifted away like aimless boats. In her cheek, a small collection of seeds rattled woodenly against her teeth. From the day she'd been picked up from the Mars Archives to the first time Shepard had let her mental guard down and allowed Liara to meld with her was nearly two months. Sex without joining was intense but unfulfilling. For too long Liara only found Shepard's mind through nightmares; forced melding while she was awake left both of them emotionally nauseated and Shepard even more aloof and on-edge.

The seeds in her mouth reminded her of when Shepard would choke down mouthfuls of pills, dry. She used to say a bruised esophagus reminded her she was alive. It hurt, much like nonconsensual melding hurt. Like being told "You shouldn't have to carry my pain."

Chapter 20:

"I don't want you ever to think you need to hide from me," Liara said with as much clarity and assertiveness as she could muster. More quietly, and with a squeeze at Shepard's hand, she added, "If we were to join... and I mean truly join..." It would be near-impossible for you to hide, anyway, was the logical conclusion, better left unsaid.

Be careful what you wish for, Liara.

***(16) "Too strong to cry"***

This line appears several times:

Chapter 14:

Bruised and compact, Liara waited. If she peeled her chin from her knee, there would be two matching lilac ovals on her skin from the pressure. If she sipped her tea, it would taste strongly tannic. She wondered how she would react if Shepard cried, spilling a fervent apology---why else would she be here? Maybe Liara wanted to see it if only to feel better about herself, or to prove that the divide between them was smaller than she suspected; they both had blood on their hands. She imagined Shepard was too strong to cry. An apology would only prove she wasn't heartless.

Chapter 19:

"I'm not sure. She was... is?... complex, convoluted in unexpected ways." [...] "I have to admit," she recalled, "that a large part of me was relieved to see her so broken, and that she let that show---because it proved to me she did need me, despite how sincerely I believed she was too strong for that: too strong to feel, too strong to cry, too strong to be... changed by me. But I was wrong. Not a day later... we joined. And soon after that... Sovereign fell."

Liara unhealthily reveres P-Shep's "strength" in the even chapters and ends up using some version of this when her obsession shifts to information/hunting the Shadow Broker in ME2. Also in even-numbered-SAtS, she shows and unhealthy obsession with trying to bridge the gap between herself and Peesh.

Chapter 12:

Reluctantly, she met Shepard's eyes again. The words spilled out before she could stop them. "I did not want to disappoint you," she began, her voice too quiet at first. "I thought I had disappointed you---was certain that I had---and I expected you would come here to make it abundantly clear to me that while my biotics may be strong, I'm too weak-spirited to be using them in this context. I feared what repercussions you would ensure I faced."

The truth, or simply what Shepard is expecting to hear?

Liara continued, volume faltering, "I saw your example and I wanted to believe I could find similar strength within myself. But I am not as strong as I wish I could be. I am not like you."

But I am trying.

"Liara, I wouldn't call it---no." Shepard stopped herself mid-thought, huffing, and slipped her hand off Liara's shoulder. "No. I don't know where to start with that." She paused. "But... why would you think I'd be harsh just for the sake of being harsh?"

And what does Peesh do in Chapter 20? Throws a melodramatic hissyfit and cries and Liara eats that shit up. Peesh's emotions are definitely real here, but she's being manipulative about it, and that sucks.

(17) "Petra" / "Nobody calls me that"

Liara only calls Shep "Petra" a small handful of times in SAtS, and each instance is meant to be a bit jarring.

"I'm so sorry," Shepard said threadily. "I let you get too close. You deserve to be out living your life without being dragged down and dragged through hell by someone like me just because you were at the wrong place at the wrong time, and a large part of me always hoped you'd see that and walk away before it's too late---before I hurt you, and I mean really fucking hurt you---"

"Petra---"

The use here, in 20, is what aids in unraveling her. If it seems like both Peesh and Liara are working each other up into a hot mess in this chapter, pushing each other's buttons intentionally, you're 100% correct.

Later:

"Shepard," Liara said, Shepard still facing away from Liara, her posture beginning to sink once again. "Petra," she tried, more confidently.

Shepard stiffened visibly at the use of her given name, seeming to fight a frown and a ratcheting jaw, but after that fleeting discomfiture her expression softened and only plead exhaustion, her eyes all dark circles and shadows and her complexion gray.

***(18) U N D O***

From Chapter 12:

"I think you do," [Shepard] said simply. Not as an admonishment---the compassion was clear in her voice. "You can't just pretend things aren't bothering you day after day, because it'll get to a point where you just can't take it anymore, and you'll come undone."

SPEAK FOR YOURSELF, PEESH:

Chapter 20:

"You mean a great deal to me, Liara. More than anyone ever has before. I'm just not the same since I met you, and it scares me how much I care---how different everything feels---and it scares me how many times these past few days I was barely holding it together because when you're around, I can't always be strong. [...] And as much as I could tell you needed me I couldn't risk facing you, because I knew this would happen, that you'd come to me for support and it would just be too much for me to hide the fact that y--- [...] [t]hat you undo me."

"You undo me" is the seed from which SAtS grew. Okay, cheez whiz.

***(19) Like Water, Like Stone***

You could really play the "spot the symbolism" game anywhere in SAtS, but I'd planned from the start for the water/stone duality to thematically crystalize in Chapter 20.

From 20:

All that Shepard'd been through, the strength she'd shown in the face of incomprehensible, ineffable terror, and it was Liara's softness, her persistence, that fractured something within her. And the longer Liara examined her, the more she grew to suspect---with disbelief, but understanding---that this wasn't a surface imperfection: the fault originated somewhere deep. And perhaps it was her doing, perhaps it was a preexisting instability---quiescent until she'd somehow, inadvertently, reached Shepard's core---that was only just now surfacing: her sudden, unexpected breakdown evidence of cumulative failure. And if Liara came at her, gently but inexorably, maybe it was inevitable that she'd wear Shepard down like this. Seeing her crumble here before her, however, was too much to process. Her fingers hurt in Shepard's vice-like grip, but it was background noise to the pain of seeing her so vulnerable.

Later, 20:

Shepard gave no response, her breaths against Liara's chest rapid and shaky as she reciprocated the embrace with increased fervor, squeezing so tightly it was uncomfortable; but it was in this intensity---this sorrowful desperation and neediness Shepard wouldn't admit in words---that Liara found not only sore ribs and difficulty breathing, but hope: proof that the impossible idea she'd long since tried to expunge from her mind was indeed true, that somehow, some part of Shepard needed her as much as she did, even if just a broken fragment.

Liara's heart raced and she knew Shepard could hear it. And despite the tears slipping down her cheeks and dampening the hair beneath her chin, Liara stood strong, rubbing Shepard's back, pretending to be solid and sure and in control. And as Shepard trembled with barely restrained sobs, as Liara sniffed and hugged her tighter, the closeness was a relief, the opportunity to hold her and help her an exhilaration and a catharsis that only a joining of their minds could transcend. Because despite all Shepard's attempts to drive her away, to say whatever she could about a troubled self and past as if it would prove herself unworthy of love, now more than ever Liara yearned to take her consciousness within her own, flow around her, inundate her entire being and fill the spaces where she was cracked and broken. When the time was right she would. Right now, this was enough.

I can have a little cheese... as a treat.

SAtS as a whole is absolutely chock-full of water/stone imagery and symbolism, and I'm astounded that no one has said anything about it. It's not subtle. Like at all.

***(20) A final note on Shepard's breakdown***

In chapter 18, both Tali and Chakwas approach Liara's confusion re: Shepard's avoidant behavior with a sort of blase attitude. This represents an important snap back to reality for Liara: to admit that her obsession with Shep has spiraled this deep would be to reveal she has far more important trauma she's not addressing. And it also means neither Tali nor Chakwas are aware of what Peesh is hiding, making the fact that Peesh essentially throws a temper tantrum in front of Liara significant.

"You're the only person I could even imagine breaking down like this in front of," is the idea.

Did she do it on purpose? Yeah, she did. The emotions behind it were real, but she ultimately weaponized them. If Peesh's goal was to bring Liara closer to her, she got exactly what she wanted; what are Paragon Sheps but masters of emotional manipulation?

Renegade!Peesh is just Dennis from IASiP.

Thanks for reading, if anyone even read this mess. Again, I know I don't have the stature to make posts like this, but I wanted to draw attention to all the detail and planning that went into SAtS. It's truly been a labor of love.

Bonus: Liara misquoting English idioms (lost in translation)

This isn't really a 20-specific thing, but I wanted to include these because they tickle me.

Chapter 19 (the last straw):

Liara snapped her fingers as she gathered her thoughts, words crowding in her mouth. "I should preface this with... I never feared that she didn't care about me or didn't love me. But I know some self-punishing part of her, deep down, felt she didn't deserve what we had, or she was somehow a burden, or that she'd single-handedly ruined my life. Hence she made frequent attempts, over the years that I knew her, to push me away. She was... reckless. Terrifying, in her self-destructiveness. But I came back to her. I thought, what if my rejection is, as they say, the last reed?" She stopped, rocking on her heels. The boulder was still warm from the day. "So I came back. Chose her, repeatedly, as you said. Sometimes I wonder if not only her obvious displays of self-harm, but her every word said to me became a tool in her arsenal to pull me back to her."

Chapter 20 (cold shoulder):

Shepard leaned more of her weight into the tabletop, causing the Destiny Ascension to sway and the relay's marble core to rattle against its gyroscope enclosure. Liara diverted her attention from the decaying oscillations. Said, "Were you truly hoping that I would simply walk away if you turned a chilly shoulder for a few days? That I wouldn't at least be curious as to why your pattern of behavior so abruptly changed, especially for what I believed at the time to be a direct result of an action I took?"

#SAtS #LWLS #ch20 #you undo memes

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