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that-was-anticlimactic · 1 year

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can we just talk about how kenji has one of the Most tragic abilities in bungou stray dogs??? like. the more i think about it, the more heartbreaking it is.

he's fourteen years old and has an ability people would die/kill for. in s3, chuuya called kenji the ada's "trump card", so it's safe to assume the rest of the port mafia thinks the same way. he is immune to literal bullets, to being whacked in the head by hard metal or pretty much anything, he can easily lift cars above his head as if they were nothing,,,

but only if he's hungry.

if you ignore that last bit, kenji has one of the best powers in the show. and like he still does, but my God. he's fourteen years old. he doesn't think his ability is all that impressive. he doesn't see the issues.

since he has a job, he probably doesn't Really eat lunch, and if he does, it's snacks. but also his job is a part of the armed detective agency. therefore, things happen all the time. who knows how long cases will run, who knows when someone will try to destroy yokohama or the agency or whatever. there's been many times when it's been clear that they've had to work into the night. then we have to ask: does kenji eat dinner? no. probably not. and if he does, he probably just eats a piece of fruit or something small. that way, he doesn't lose his ability. he is the agency's trump card, after all. and he knows how important his power is. i mean, that's one of the reasons he joined ranpo and the others when they went against fukuzawa's orders in s3. it's not explicitly stated, but i'd argue that it's implied. anyways. does kenji eat breakfast? well, i don't think so. why? he sleeps when he eats. why sleep so soon after he just woke up? he has to go to work, anyways. so he can't fall asleep.

so, we've basically established that kenji probably has an extremely unhealthy eating schedule due to his ability. but also,,, what about his sleeping schedule? what kind of relationship does he have with sleep? so, let's say he eats a full meal three times a day: breakfast, lunch, and dinner. let's say how long he sleeps depends on how much he ate... so let's say that a small snack is no sleep since it's barely anything, just maybe makes him a little physically weaker. and a normal meal is at least an hour. that's at least three hours of sporadic sleep during the day - one of them shortly after he wakes up. but you know what makes that even sadder? what if kenji doesn't sleep at night because of his ability. or, sleep consistently or well? we can assume the agency actually really wants kenji to eat, even if he falls asleep, so on days when he can't get away with not really eating, he sleeps during the day for an unspecified amount of time. his sleep schedule would get so thrown off. also, he was raised on a farm, so we can assume he wakes up really early anyways. maybe early enough to say that there isn't any reason to sleep because he would wake up soon normally anyways.

and... what if kenji can't sleep without eating? what if kenji has to eat to sleep? maybe it wasn't that way when he was younger, but the older he got, the more his body grew to rely on his ability's exception. like... that's just... really sad. this kid is fourteen.

and think about it. the agency is best friends because they are. they'd probably like to go out to lunch or dinner together. i bet half the time at least, kenji wouldn't eat. why? because he'd fall asleep. wouldn't want to ruin the fun. because then they'd have to watch their volume around him or try to wake him up (and i hc that it's really hard to wake him up for like... the first ten minutes after a meal at least - it gets easier the longer he's been asleep or the less he eats). and what if they can't wake him up? then someone would have to carry him back and that's so kind of them but, well, they didn't have to and now kenji feels like a liability or a burden. like he ruined all the fun.

and he works with the armed detective agency. they've got a lot of enemies. he is the trump card. the physically strongest on the team. also the most naive and, objectively, the kindest. oh and one of the two youngest. can you imagine how vulnerable he is when he sleeps? i would imagine the agency wouldn't want him to eat by himself in public for, you know, safety reasons. and that even includes the cafe downstairs. who knows what could happen if kenji fell asleep on his own? and that's probably why he went to eat with atsushi in s1 ep11: he was with atsushi so he could eat out. one of those rare chances. and if an enemy did get to him while he was asleep, he'd be pretty easy to keep out of it: just keep forcing him to eat. shove food in his mouth, force him to swallow. and there you are: you have the armed detective agency's trump card. and kenji knows this.

and the sad thing is? kenji probably doesn't even realize he's having problems. he probably thinks this is normal. something he just has to deal with - and i don't say that in a negative or self-loathing kind of way. a genuine "it's always been like this; i know nothing else" kind of way. he wants to help people: that's why he came to the agency. he couldn't handle not being able to help everyone back home. he needs to be useful, to help. he grew up on a farm: he values hard work a lot - that much is obvious. he feels like he can't help if he eats consistently. he's probably (albeit subconsciously, unknowingly) scared of what would happen if he did eat and sleep consistently. that means he's not useful, right? that means someone will get hurt because of him. he'd rather starve than someone else get hurt. he was given this ability, he has to use it to help people.

tldr: kenji's ability is so interesting and underutilized in the the manga/anime and in the fandom and is so overlooked in angst potential. his ability most likely has ruined his eating and sleeping schedule to the point where he doesn't know anything different and genuinely thinks it's healthy because it's what he's always done, it's what he was blessed with, right? kenji deserves more love in canon and by the fandom <3

#hi i had a breakdown over kenji but what's new #bsd #kenji miyazawa #bsd kenji #no but like am i wrong??? kenji has one of the most tragic abilities in bsd!!! like!!!#not only because he probably definitely has an eating disorder but also because it ruins his ability to sleep like #i just.#ahhhhhhhhhhhhh #he is SO overlooked CONSTANTLY and it makes me SO upset. like. gosh he is such an interesting character and this angst isn't like...#blatant because he genuinely has no idea anything is wrong!!! he thinks it's normal! and it prolly takes the agency awhile to realize oh #frick kenji is Not okay this is Not healthy because kenji genuinely thinks it is because it's all he's ever known #and yes i am writing a fic about this and yes it is like 5k words right now and yes it is still going #i have feelings!!!#if no one will care about kenji then i will!!!#that is a threat!!!#but like guys... come on! he's riGHT THERE!!! and it's SO TRAGIC!!! we love tragedy here right? look at kenjiiiiiiiiiii #sorry feelings have i #it actually gets more and more sad the more i think about it #he is. he is FOURTEEN.#anyways imma go work on the fic tehe???

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classypauli · 2 months

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She’s the Man

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x fem Reader Summary: With the new university Y/N meets new opportunities, plays on the football team, meets new people, makes new friendships, and maybe finds something she didn’t think would find.... But being dressed as her brother can create little problems in the future. She’s the Man AU A/N: So this fic will be based on the movie She´s the Man, it won´t follow every step of the story, I had it in mind some time now and have been thinking about if it is a good idea or not but well, here goes nothing… Not forcing anyone to read this, idk just wanted to try something new. Warning: first time writing, bad grammar and punctuation in complex sentences, spelling errors, boring and awkward Word count: 5k I DON’T OWN THE MOVIE THIS STORY IS BASED ON OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS THAT ARE IN THERE. IT’S ONLY FICTION AND NONE OF THIS IS REAL.

Chapter 1

Y/N is sitting in her brother´s room, eyes wide open „You can´t be serious! How am I supposed to do that?!“ she shouted at him. „I´ll be thankful to you till the end of my life.“ well, that won´t be for long if she decides to kill him right now. „Charlie-“

„Please Y/N you are my only hope, you know I´ve been wanting to go to this festival for so long, you know what it means to me, please.“ he puts his hands in a praying position, and now his puppy eyes are the only thing his sister can see. „Ew get away from me.“ she pushed him into the chest as he stumbled back.

Charlie, Y/N´s twin brother, wants her to impersonate him. Yeah, you heard it right, he wants his sister to go to his school and act like him this whole time that he will be on tour. He is in the band, their parents aren´t really happy about it, they say that music won´t get him anywhere and he should concentrate on the more important stuff. Y/N´s sad because she was always like if something makes you happy, that´s all that matters, right? But he isn´t giving up, he still hopes that he can convince them about being serious with music.

And don´t get her wrong, she´d do anything and everything for him, he is her brother, her twin, but this... She´s not so sure, it´s just too much, what if they find out? What if she isn´t good enough and mess up? What would their parents say? Oh God too much pressure on her shoulders and she didn´t even say yes.

But his sad and disappointed eyes are her last straw. „Gosh.... m'kay.“ Y/N whispered under her breath almost unnoticed. Charlie´s eyes lit up like Christmas lights and started running to his sister yelling „Thank you thank you thank you! I promise I´ll do anything for you!“ He almost suffocated her when they hugged. „Careful with your words and now get off I can´t breathe!“ he immediately pushed himself off and started his little winning dance.

She rolled her eyes at him „So how we are going to do that? I mean, I need to look exactly like you, act like you, talk like you, and EVEN SMELL like you? Well now I´m not so sure if I can do this I mean-“ she looked at him and scrunched up her nose. „Oh, you didn´t you f-“ he hit Y/N with the pillow in the head. She started laughing at her brother's offended face. „Just kidding stop being a baby.“

He stood up and started thinking „Well we look alike, like a lot, so there won´t be much work in the face-“ „What?!“ „-but you need to learn how to walk like me and dress like me. Stand up we are having our first lesson.“

They were practicing her walk, or more like his walk, and she got it pretty right. Clothes won´t be a big problem cause they wear uniforms and wearing baggy clothes is one of the most comfortable things for her. She doesn´t know how she will do it but for her brother, she needs to at least try.

A couple of days passed and now Y/N is sitting in the passenger seat, Charlie is behind the wheel. Sun is shining through the windows of their parent's car. She is wearing her school uniform and her leg is bouncing up and down in black uncomfortable shoes.

„Stop Y/N it will be okay-„ she turned to him „Well it´s easy for you to say! You aren´t the one dressed as me!“. Okay maybe she´s a little dramatic but she´s shitting her uniform pants right now, oh God please let this be over already.

Y/N didn´t even notice and they were already in front of the school. Students were walking back and forth, laughing and greeting each other after the holidays. The girl wasn´t a social kid growing up. I mean she doesn´t have a problem with talking to others, the problem is in the start of conversations. She can try as hard as she can but she never knows how to begin. Her mind suddenly stops working and becomes quiet. She´s not shy, at least she doesn´t think she is. For the longest time of her life, she thought that she was an introvert but as she was getting older she realized maybe she´s just a quiet extrovert. Y/N likes to listen to people more than talk to them. She likes to be by herself but also enjoys the company of the right people.

„Okay we are here, “ Charlie said „Just try to enjoy it, it will be fun“. Yeah, his twin is boiling with excitement.

They got out of the car, her brother went to get her bags from the back and she just stood there. Just like a kid for the first time going to school, doesn´t know what's waiting for them. She just realized that this is real and that what is she going to do is a crazy idea.

„Ch-Charlie I think I changed my mind I can´t do this-“

„Y/N STOP-“

Walking to her dorm room is the next thing, bags in hands trying to find her room. Finally, she sees the right numbers and she can´t wait to put these heavy bags in there. She unlocked the door and walked straight to the room.

„Oh hi!“ Y/N heard from the other side, looked up and her eyes met with the unknown boy.

„I´m Percy.“ he walked up to her and offered his hand „I´m guessing you are my roommate?“ He was a little taller than her and had long brown hair.

„Yeah, nice to meet you my name´s Y-Ch-Charlie, my name´s Charlie.“ she said as she shook his hand. Damn! She needs to concentrate more.

„Well Charlie pleasure to meet you“ he smiled „I´d like to sit and talk with you but I have to go now, you can put your clothes right there, and on the left side of the door is the bathroom, thankfully every room has one so not all students have to share the same one.“ Well, at least it would be easier for her to shower. Y/N thanked him as he walked away. With a sigh, she fell right into her new bed. She started unpacking and soon walked out of the dorm. She doesn´t know where is she going but she will find out. Silently cursed at her new roommate for rushing away even though he knew she was new. Y/N was in her world passing around the corner of the hallway until someone smashed into her.

“Oh shit I’m so sorry!”

The girl moved her gaze to the voice and there was a guy, he was taller than her and looked like he was in a rush, he was holding some clothes which were probably PE uniform.

“I didn’t mean to do it I swear I didn’t see y-“

“Hey it’s okay nothing happened but damn you are in quite a rush”. she laughed and he started to rub his neck.

“Yeah, I’m heading into football practice and I’m late again, oh God my coach is going to kill me, last time he said if this happens one more time he will kick me out of the team.” he kept rumbling but the only word Y/N could catch in his sentence was “football”.

“But hey at least you are okay, I’m glad nothing serious happened-“ she cut him off.

“Wait you play football?”

“Uhm yeah, doesn’t it look like it?”. He asked in a small voice as if he was sad about it. What? He definitely looks like someone who does some sport, he is big and tall with his big arms wide shoulders, and athletic legs.

“No I didn’t mean it like that-” he kept watching her with curious eyes “-I just used to play football too and yeah, I don’t even know why I react-“ his face lit up.

“You can go with me! We have enough space in our team!”

“Thank you but am not sure if-“

“No! Please! I’m not going to force you but you can at least come and look, please-“ he was giving her puppy eyes now “-if you come with me then the coach would forgive me maybe if I said I was bringing you-“

“So that’s what it is about!”

“No! Well- maybe- but it would be cool to have someone new on our team! And we are missing a midfielder because of his injury, so you could fill up his place”. Well maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea, she can at least try. Y/N looked up at him and nodded.

“YES! Come with me- wait my name’s Mason”

“Charlie” she introduced herself with her brother's name.

They shook hands and started to walk into a field.

„You are new here, right? I don´t think I saw you before.“-

Y/N was now standing inside the cafeteria, she was looking around for a spot when suddenly she saw Percy, he was sitting in one of the middle tables with some of his friends. Before she could do anything he looked up and saw her.

„Charlie!“ he waved his hand for her to come over to the table, his friends already looking at her. Well, there´s no way to go back now.

„Hey, I wanted you to introduce me to my friends.“ he said smiling „This is Hunter and Georgie.“ Y/N shook their hands and took a seat.

„Nice to meet you, Charlie, “ Hunter said, „so how´s the first day goin´?“

„Well I´m just warming myself in here but so far I don´t have any negative words.“

Georgie took a sip of something he had in his cup and looked at her „That´s good, if you have a problem with something just ask.“

Hunter laughed at Georgie „Yeah but I don´t recommend asking Georgie for help with a class, he is the one who should seek help with that.“

„I´m not!“ he said offended. Y/N could only laugh at their bickering. „Don´t mind them-“ Percy wanted to continue with his sentence but his eyes caught something more interesting. She followed his gaze until she was met with three girls who walked into the cafeteria. They sat opposite their table and were discussing something that Y/N´s ears couldn´t hear because of the loud noise of other students in the room. She knew that Percy knew them or at least one of them, she would be an idiot to not catch that stare he was giving them but she was fighting with inner thoughts if she should ask or not. Before she could even decide Hunter saw that and turned around to look.

„Oh, “ he said, and soon Georgie followed Hunter's action and started laughing. „you may wonder why is Percy stuck. “ he said to Y/N. „Well Charlie, the one girl in the middle is Jenna, and Percy here has been trying to get with her forever but with no answer “. Oh, so he was looking at her. Yeah no wonder, she caught Y/N´s attention pretty quickly. She was really attractive even from this far. „He tried everything.“ Georgie continued „from writing her letter and getting it into her locker, drawing her portrait and leaving it on the seat she used to sit at to ask her in person but nothing!“ he laughed and Percy punched him into his shoulder. „This is not funny! I don´t know what to do anymore!“.

„Have you thought about that maybe she didn´t see you in that way?“ Hunter asked as he turned back to him.

„Of course you idiot but at least she could give me a chance“

„Well, I don´t know I mean... it´s a little strange I can´t even remember if I have ever seen her with someone. There are lots of guys who wanted to get with her but she turned them down, maybe she doesn´t want a relationship now-“ Hunter still kept looking at him with a serious face „-Or maybe she just thinks you are a creep.“ Georgie said and started laughing again. Percy groaned and put his head in his hands. Y/N could only smile at this boy, he was hilarious.

They were sitting there and talking mostly about classes and professors in school. She learned that Percy is in an art club and loves to paint. That would answer the question of why he has so many paintings on the walls of his side of the room, Y/N must admit he is talented and has a unique style. Hunter and Georgie, the two boys she just met, were friendly, they always tried to keep her in a conversation and asked her questions about her last school, hobbies, and family. The girl may don´t know them for too long but she can already say that she feels comfortable with them.

Y/N was speed walking out of her last class, she had a long day and couldn´t wait for it to end. Tomorrow she´s going to have her first training and she wanted to get herself some sleep. She was thinking about things to do when suddenly her body crushed into someone. Yeah, again. She heard a small ugh and the sound of books falling on the floor. Well only her luck. She picked herself up and looked at who was the other person. She didn’t know if her eyes were making some magic on her or not. She realized what happened and started picking up her books from the ground.

“I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to!“

“No no, it was my fault.” Y/N looked at her and was met with big doe eyes. Her brain couldn’t process what was happening. In front of her was Jenna, the girl from the cafeteria, she was wearing a school uniform and stood shorter than Y/N, her dark brown eyes, which she couldn´t see a couple of minutes ago clearly, matched her long hair.

Suddenly the door from a principal’s office opened and he walked out. „What is-?“ he started but as he looked at the scene in front of him he smirked. „Getting to know the opposite sex, are we? Male-female dynamics. All that sexual tension. It's all part of the high school experience. So continue. Please. But keep it clean, though. OK. Abstinence is key. Abstinence is... the best way to not is to not... yes.“ he slowly took back steps and closed his door.

„Well“ Y/N sighed and looked and the other girl „That was awkward... is he always like this? Friendly?“ she asked her. Jenna softly laughed „Are you kidding? That´s him being rude“.

„Okey... ehm... I´ll continue with my way.“ She didn´t know why she was acting like this. „Here are your books.“ She handed her them and shot her apology for eyes „Sorry again I didn´t mean to.“

Jenna only looked up at her with wide eyes „It´s okay, nothing happened “ she smiled „Hope to see you again“. Y/N quickly walked away leaving the other girl behind her. Damn, she needs to put herself together.

The next day Y/N felt a lot more relaxed, she spent almost all afternoon with Mason and she decided that he just become her favourite person. He was so kind. Keeping an eye on her and always asking if she needed anything. He was outgoing and even though her new friend was the polar opposite of her social life, Y/N couldn´t help but feel comfortable with Mason.

The whistle was heard from the football field and Y/N was trying to find her way of getting the ball into the net. God, she missed it so much. Her legs were running like there was no tomorrow, others got in her way to stop her but they never succeded, Y/N was too good. She knew that. In the past, when she used to play, she was one of the best, if not the best, in her team. She truly enjoyed it and now that she finally had the football ball on her foot there was no way to stop her. Y/N shot the ball into a net and it flew straight to the right top corner of the goal.

„What? Charlie! How are you this good man?“ Mason ran to her and grabbed her shoulders smiling. „And here you wanted to decline my offer!“

„Well I got a little lost.“ They started walking slowly to get their water as they got a quick pause from the coach.

Some people were sitting on the tribune but she didn´t mind. This wasn´t only a football field, there were a lot of sports grounds and right now there were a lot of athletes too. She scanned the chairs when suddenly she caught the girl. The same girl she saw for the first time in the cafeteria and the second time ran into. She had books on her knees and a bag beside her, her hair was waiving in soft wind. But there is no way that she came to look at the football training, right? She was waiting for someone, maybe her friend. But as she kept looking, their eyes met and Y/N quickly looked the other way. This was embarrassing. Luckily she was saved by the whistle and that made her jog her way to the coach.

At the end of her training coach called the girl on the side „Good job today Y/L/N, I would be glad if you come next practice.“ he said as he waited for her answer.

„Yes, you will see me, thank you for having me.“ He only nodded his head and walked away. Mason came to her side and was smiling widely „You impressed him today, I wouldn´t be surprised if he let you play in our next game.“ his eyebrows went up and down.

She was glad that she let herself be talked into this, Y/N hadn´t felt this alive since she could remember. It was for sure a good idea and couldn´t wait for the next practice. As she was walking back she shot one last glance at the tribune only to find the spot Jenna sat in empty.

Y/N was leaning on a table, they were waiting for their professor to start a class. She´s standing beside Percy, Hunter, and Georgie. They are talking about plans for the weekend. Y/N doesn´t really listen she just looks like she is listening.

She was thinking about her brother and how she would call him when her class was over. He already texted her, asking how it was going and if she had any troubles. She misses him, but she won´t tell him that of course, and how could she not, he is her twin, her other half.

The teacher walked to their group with a bucket in her hand. „Everyone, please take a slip and read off the name of your lab partner.“ Percy was the first one who grab the folded paper, he got Emma Myers. Emma was one of the group of girls they saw in the cafeteria. „Oh you are lucky, she´s cool.“ Georgie says and Hunter nods at his words.

Y/N unfolded her paper “Jenna Ortega” she says out loud and Jenna immediately looks at her with a smile. “You know each other?” Percy hissed at her. “No, not really” quickly turned away with a slight hint of red cheeks. “Switch up with me please” he went to grab the paper with the girl´s name on it. “I can’t! She already heard me, what would she think?” the girl grabbed her things and went to her new lab partner.

“Hi.. so you are my lab partner?” “Yeah,” she said smiling.

„I don´t think we introduced each other the other day.“ she was hitting on the day they both ran to each other. „No we didn´t, I´m Jenna.“ she grinned. „I´m Charlie.“ She almost forgot about her brother. Y/N felt Percy´s gaze but didn´t mind him. It´s not her fault that she got lucky to get her as a lab partner, right? It happened because of something she can´t control.

“You know ehm... the whole dissecting thing kind of freaks me out. So, think you may have to take the reins on this one.” she said slowly.

Jenna leaned into the table with her eyes still on the other girl.“Wow, no guy would ever admire that” Oh f- Y/N quickly realized her mistake. What is she even saying? “Shit, you are right” Her hands started to sweat but before the inner thoughts and anxiety could grow even more the brown-haired girl grabbed her hands. “No! It’s okay you don’t have to be embarrassed, it’s cute”

Y/N moved her eyes from their hands and looked at her. God her doe eyes, they were beautiful, so innocent and pure. She lowered her gaze at her smiling lips and then her dimples, at that action Jenna smiled even wider. “So today we are going to-“ she quickly pushed her own hands away and looked at the professor acting like she wasn’t just drooling over her classmate. This will be long.

“So how it went?” Percy asked.

“What do you mean?”

“The talk with Jenna, how it went? What were you talking about?” Y/N turned to him placing books on her table. They were in their dorm right now since their classes were over. “Nothing, just school work” Well she wasn’t lying. They were just talking. He was silent for a minute, looking out of the window. “What are you thinking about?” the girl questioned him but his eyes were telling that his thoughts were elsewhere.

“Charlie I need you to do something for me” Well this doesn’t start well. “ Can you convince her to go out with me?” “Who?” He turned to her.

“Jenna of course! It’s just I’ve been into her-“ yeah she had noticed “-for so long and this is like a perfect opportunity for me that she will finally say yes to me.” he sat on her bed and looked up at her. In this position, it seemed like he was giving her an ultimatum like there was no other answer than the one he wanted. And like dude, there may be a reason if she didn’t say yes to you yet. He keeps looking at her waiting for the girl's answer and to be honest, for some reason, she doesn’t really like the idea of him with Jenna together but on the other hand, she can’t just say no to him. Why is she always the one who needs to please someone's needs?

“Well, I’ll see what I can do”. Y/N nodded her head and Percy instantly got up.

“Thank you Char you are a lifesaver!” he smiled wide at her and went to his bed as she just stood there looking at the ground.

At night Y/N couldn´t sleep, she was thinking about what Percy said and she didn´t feel good about it. Because of something, it felt a little disrespectful towards Jenna, almost unfair. But she already agreed. She will just say something nice about him and see where it will go, she can´t influence Jenna´s decision after that and Percy can´t be mad at her if this doesn´t work.

She picked herself up and went to the bathroom, silently thanking God above that this wasn´t a public bathroom, and could shower without being scared that someone could see her. She doesn´t even know what she would say if someone finds out the twin´s secret. But she doesn´t want to think about that option.

A couple of days passed. The classes were good but the football practices were her favourite. Coach wants her to play in the upcoming game and she just can´t wait. Mason is her right hand and he is always supporting her, now when she doesn´t have her brother near, the boy is playing the role of her twin. Today she and Jenna have class again. They are talking a lot more. Y/N liked her, she was sweet and always smiling, she also found out that Jenna likes to listen to music and loves acting. She even recommended some of her favorite movies which Y/N didn´t see yet. They spend a lot of time together, besides being together in class, they also sometimes hang out in the cafeteria and walk together to classes, and sometimes she even sees Jenna watching her practice. Y/N doesn´t know how she found out about her being in the team but she isn´t even sure if the brown-eyed girl is sitting there every practice for her.

„What?“ Jenna was shocked „How come you have never seen that?“ they were talking about films, the movie Scream to be exact. They were sitting under the tree on some bench. Students were walking around chatting, birds were singing in the trees and the sun was shining through the holes of the leaves. Y/N was walking out of class when suddenly she saw the other girl. Jenna asked her if she wanted to grab coffee since they had some free time. So now they were sitting next to each other, talking about everything.

„I have heard about it but didn´t see that, don´t know why.“ Y/N shrugs her shoulders. Jenna only shook her head at the girl.

„That´s a mistake, it´s so cool, the actors, plot, cinematography, blood-“ she started to mumble about the movie when suddenly an amazing idea crossed her mind „we can watch it together sometime!“ she let out and looked at Y/N for an answer. She only kept her gaze on her if she heard it right. She wanted to say yes but there was something in her telling her that it would be unfair for Percy.

„Yeah sure, that would be awesome“ Y/N said smiling. Jenna shot her smile back.

„Okay, so this friday?“ she asked the other girl. Y/N looked at Jenna, she didn´t know this girl would be so fast, she thought they were just talking about the possibility, not that they were already making plans.

„Yes, I should be free.“

„Great, can you give me your phone?“ Y/N gave her phone to Jenna „Here, you better text me football player.“ she said smiling as she stood up from the bench and started to walk away. Y/N laughed softly.

„Of course.“ she whispered under her breath and kept staring at her back until she couldn´t see her anymore. She picked up her phone and looked at the new contact. Jenna xx.

It was already the end of the week Y/N was getting ready to hang out with Jenna, and she texted her about the details. They are going to watch the film in the other girl´s room since her roommate is going to a party. She walked out of the bathroom and saw Percy, she didn´t tell him about her going out. It´s not like she has to say it to him, right?

„Hey you planning to go somewhere?“ he asked.

„Uhm... yeah, some boys from the football team asked me about hanging out with them.“ she said. Y/N hated lying but what would he say if she told him she was hanging out with the girl he had a crush on? It´s not her fault that Jenna invited her, or is it?

„Oh okay, we are going to the party some students are throwing, wanted to ask you if you want to come but it´s good.“ he only smiled at her. She thanked him and he soon left the room. It was already time to go so she picked up some snacks she bought and left the dorm.

“So? Your rating?” Jenna turned to face the other girl. They just finished watching Scream and all Y/N can say, it got her. They were sitting on the small couch, snacks around them, she faced Jenna and only the light from the TV made her see her. The girl´s hair was loose on both sides of her face, she was not wearing any makeup and her bare face only made the girl’s heart skip a beat. It was refreshing seeing her like this and also Y/N felt proud because this meant that Jenna felt comfortable around her.

“It was pretty good, not bad not good.” Y/N acted unbothered.

“Oh yeah? That’s why you didn’t blink the whole movie?” she smirked at Y/N, she squinted her eyes at her “Be honest.”

“Okay! I enjoyed it so much and actually liked the plot, that’s what you wanted to hear?”

Jenna tilted her head “That’s what I thought. What can I say… I have a good taste.”

They kept silence between them, it wasn’t embarrassing or tense silence. It was comforting. They were looking at each other.

“Tell me about your family.” the brown-eyed girl said softly, holding gaze with the other girl.

“Well, I live with my parents and my twin sister” Jenna raised her eyebrows.

“You have a twin?” Y/N nodded at her question.

“What is she like?”

“Well…“ she didn’t know what to say, it felt weird talking about herself as if she was talking about someone else “She is cool, likes to keep things to herself most of the time, likes reading and writing poems…”

“She sounds interesting, you could introduce us to each other sometime.” she smirked at her.

“Yeah, I think she would like you”

“You think?” Jenna straightened her back “I’m amazing! Of course, she will!”

Y/N throws her head back with a laugh.

“How can you be so sure that you will meet her?”

“Oh believe me” Jenna smiled at Y/N “I know.”

Y/N felt the vibe of the room change. When she was with Jenna she almost forgot about everything and everybody, her brother, her parents, school, her and Percy´s deal, her impersonating her twin…

But only almost.

next chapter

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darlingdarkly · 1 month

Text

Fates Worse Than Death

A Deimos x f!reader Series

Chapter 1

Word count: 5k

Part: 2

OG A/N: Hey, hi! So, tomorrow is my birthday. And for my birthday I decided to write a hugely self indulgent smutty fic for myself and instead of writing one for cod like I’ve been doing and contributing to an already super saturated fandom I have decided to write it for my r6s fandom, which admittedly keeps looking deader and deader, but I know that if I’m scouring the tags for fics then maybe someone else is too and so I’m gonna share my gift to myself in hopes that someone else who’s desperate for content will find it and be glad it’s there.

Second A/N: Hey! So I decided to make this a series actually. This will stand as chapter 1 💕

Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Listen to me 👁️👁️ I need you to heed the tags. I am going to tag the hell out of this thing and if you don’t read the tags then you’re throwing yourself into a mixed bag of whatever the hell and that’s on you. The tags are there for your benefit. Not mine. You have been warned.

CW: non con elements, dub con elements, interrogation, belt spanking, bondage, unprotected climactic p in v intercourse, oral (f!receiving), abduction, hair pulling, fingering, death, blood, mild game spoilers 🤷‍♀️

This is the point of no return, you click this button and you consent to the content on the other side.

This takes place after Deimos has killed Harry but before Rainbow has captured him, if you give a shit about canon events and timeline. Enjoy 💕

The chilly night wind whipped through the leaves, rattling them noisily and aiding in concealing your stealthy movements. You and three other operatives cut through the wooded terrain like silent wraiths as you sought out the hidden compound due north, said to be home to his lair. The mission was simple, get in, extract Deimos and exfil.

You moved quickly and quietly bringing up the rear of the squad. Rifle locked and loaded, the muzzle pointed out ahead of you, strafing for contact. You heard your squad leader over the comms, gruff and clear as he spoke to your contact back on base.

“Rainbow, this is O1, we are two clicks due south of the compound. ETA 15 for contact, are we a go?”

After a moment of measured silence he got a response. “Rainbow to O1, you’re green lit. Standby for evac.”

O1 came back moments later. “Copy that. Over.” There was an audible cut through the radio before O1 addressed your squad. “Alright, squad. You heard the man. On your toes.” Each of you responded in turn. “O2 copy.” A pause. “O3 copy.” You depressed the button on your headset and responded. “O4 copy.”

Soon after, the four of you crested a hill and fanned out over the top of it, laying eyes upon the brilliant glow cutting through the velvet of night like a knife. O1 came through your ear piece and gave curt instruction. “O2, follow me to the east. O3 and O4 you take west. Stick close to the perimeter, plant the charge and fall back. We detonate on my count and breach simultaneously. Do you understand?”

The three of you responded in unison. “Sir, yes sir.” You saw him motion forward and your group began to move, splitting into your assigned pairs and descending upon the compound. You lost sight of your squad mates in the thick of the trees but kept close to O3 as you neared the far west walls of the hidden base. Just as you made the bottom of the hill there was a panicked cry over the comms from O2. “What the fuck is that? O1 we have a disturbance.” There’s a break in his speech, a long drawn out eerie quiet that unnerves you.

“Sir, we’re not alone! I repeat, not alone.” There was a faint scuffle in the distance and a single gunshot before O1 came over the comms, frantic. “O1 to Rainbow, we’re made! Requesting evac. It’s him.”

You and O3 stopped and turned towards the commotion, unsure of how to proceed. There was a heart stopping, pained scream in the distance and you heard Rainbow call to the pair of you over the comms. “O3, O4, this is Rainbow. Get out of there, you’re compromised. Get to evac. I repeat, Get to evac!”

The pair of you took off in the woods, abandoning mission and headed west towards the evac point. You could feel your heartbeat in your chest and had to focus to calm your breathing. At this point it was about survival as you followed close behind O3 and cut through the woodlands for the helo just eight clicks west.

There’s a flutter in the air, a woosh of displaced air as something whizzes by and you hear O3 ahead of you begin to panic. “Christ it’s him! Run for it, now!” O3 bolts forward and you’re sprinting to catch up but soon he’s lost in the copse of pines and all you have left of him is his panicked yells and heavy breathing over the radio. “O3, where are you? O3!?!” You hear the deafening discharge of a heavy caliber ring out in the still night and it’s too close for comfort.

You veer away from it and towards the evac. Splitting off on your own as the blood of your last remaining squad member drains from the brand new vent hole in his head and begins to quickly cool in the night air. You can hardly hear yourself crash through the woods, boots scaling over rocks and fallen logs as your breath quickens and terror begins to set in.

You miss the whirring of the foreign object the second time around but there’s no mistaking the calm, collected voice in your ear as he hacks through your comms and makes himself known. “There you are. There’s no hiding. Not for you. Not for me.”

Rainbow comes in low and static-y though the comms and you struggle to make him out clearly. “O4 do you… in O4… Get out! I rep-… Deimos is tra-…. On your posit-….” And then everything cuts. Your comms go dark and you’re officially alone, the last of a nearly dead and shattered squad in the dead of night in the thick of the sticks.

Determined not to die in the midst of these pines you beeline for the green blip on your gps. If you could just make it to the helo you’d survive but as you took a final glance at your position a second blip pinged. A dark red skull just twenty meters back. His deathMARK. You felt a lump in your throat as you realized you’d been made and triple timed it, arms pumping at your sides as you tore through the woods in fear. Pure terror coursed through your veins and nipped at your heels, promising death if caught. There was no capture, Deimos wasn’t known for taking prisoners.

You mounted a hill and pushed out between two huge oaks as you practically slid down the other side. You made huge strides, legs driving you towards salvation as you pushed them to the limit in hopes of escape. You were only four clicks out when you tripped, stumbling over something hard and unseen as you crashed ungracefully to the ground and tumbled in the leaf litter. You scrambled to regain your footing, clawing at the earth and struggling to your feet.

You had just made it up when he hit you like a freight train, violently tackling you and knocking you on your back. The pair of you rolled in the foliage, tumbling over one another in the night and sprawling apart as you came to a jolting stop.

This was it, it was fight or die so you grabbed for the push daggers secured to the straps of your tac vest and faced your adversary. He came up ready to fight, charging forward and lunging for you. You drove forward with a fist, spearheaded leathily by the edge of the knife and swung out to bite at his throat. He pulled back and you sliced through air instead, he followed through with an arm on your elbow and brought your arm down over one thick thigh, breaking your hold and successfully disarming you.

With one knife left you pushed back at his chest and swung forward to attack, hoping to aggressively close the distance and quickly end him but he grabbed your arm with his strong gloved hands and twisted it around until your back was socketed into his chest. He pulled on your limb and brought it down hard over his knee, breaking your hold for a second time and disarming you completely.

You struggled out of his grip and tried to make a break for it, a last ditch effort to stay alive and bolt but he caught a grip on your ankle and you once more went sprawling to the ground, ass over teapot. When you turned around to face death you caught sight of his ballistic mask towering over you, he held the magnum in a tight grip in his right hand and you knew it was over. At least you’d die with your squad, knowing you’d done your best and been outplayed.

But instead of staring down the unblinking black eye that was the bore of his barrel you felt the butt of the .44 Vendetta crash down on your temple before the night stole over you and blocked out all thought.

It wasn’t til much later that you awoke, sluggish, confused and in tremendous pain. The room was bright but cold and when you tried to alleviate the pain in your head by bringing your hand up to soothe it you realized you were bound and secured to some kind of padded platform. Your arms were stretched out and down in front of you, bound together by something strong and without give. Your legs were similarly bound but tucked up beneath you on the padded bench. It was then you realized you were also naked from the waist down. Your chest was covered but had been stripped of your tac gear and uniform and replaced with a stark white tee, your bra was also missing.

You weren’t blindfolded or gagged but when you tried to whip your head around you found it hard to maneuver, only about five degrees of field of view to see on either side and all you could see of that was dingy white tile from floor to ceiling. You struggled in your bonds but stopped as you heard the slow, methodical blows of his boots on the concrete steadily drawing nearer. You stiffened and tried not to think about the view he no doubt was privy to from this angle. He broke the silence first.

“Well she’s finally awake. Don’t struggle, the knots won’t give, I tied them myself.” He sounds smug and confident as he strides up behind you, voice low and clear, not quite deep but thoroughly resolute, the draw of a southern twang peeking out subtly but sophisticated. The venom in you begins to well up in your throat, your teeth grit and body tensing as your anger builds and your hate gestates.

You let loose on him, anger burning a hole in your chest as you feel robbed of your rightful death, you shouldn’t be here still breathing, you should be dead in the woods with your squad, not tied up and captured like some kind of prized war spoil. “Fuck you! Kill me, you bastard!” He let himself come into view, circling around you with his arms clasped behind his back. He was still fully clad in his black tac gear and ballistic helmet, the dark, obsidian lenses of his eyes gleamed deviously in the fluorescent light.

“Can’t get information out of you if you’re dead, now can we?” You ground your teeth in your skull, body trembling in half fear, half seething rage. “You won’t get a damn word out of me, motherfucker! You’ll have to kill me, I won’t talk!”

His head tilted slightly as he tisked, chiding you calmly. “Such a nasty mouth.” He disappeared from view, the dark drape of his cape flowing out behind him, returning to his position behind you as you heard a rustle and the soft tink of metal on metal as he lifted something off of a table. “My godfather was a stern but loving man. He taught me at an early age about duty and responsibility. About discipline and respect. I loved and respected him dearly but as all boys are, I had a tendency to be rowdy and disrespectful at times. He taught me these values with a firm and unyielding hand. Something I think you could use a good helping of.”

You heard the crack of the belt as he brought the two looped ends taut in his hands and immediately stiffened, the hairs on the back of your neck standing straight up. “You’re going to tell me everything I want to know, including the details of your mission, the intel you received and who you received it from along with the coordinates of the Rainbow base.” He stopped and waited for your response, you sat still and silent, mentally preparing yourself for the coming onslaught.

“Nothing to share?” You shifted in place but spat out at him, tongue in cheek. “Fuck you.” Shortly after you felt the first lick of the belt as it cut through the air and cracked across your bare ass, making you jump and yelp. It may have been a far cry from conventional interrogation methods but it was still painful and humiliating. You heard the leather slide in his fist before you felt the second blow, just parallel to the first, aimed and executed with precision to land just beside it on the same cheek. “Fuck!”

He hummed contently. “Tell me what your mission objective was.” He languidly paced behind you as he waited for your answer, when none came he brought the belt down on the other cheek twice in rapid succession, giving you no time to recover. You tried shifting away from the blows but had about a half an inch of clearance for wiggle room, there was no evading it.

He kept it up, pausing and then attacking ruthlessly, periodically stopping before doling it out again, fat, opaque lines began to criss cross on the smooth surface, marking his progress. He questioned you again and you held silent, preferring to suffer through the consequences rather than give in and endanger an entire base of your colleagues for the quicker respite of death. He’d kill you in time either way, it was better to hold out and die honorably than relent for a swifter end.

“You’re resilient, tough little spit fire, I’ll give you that. But you should know your silence has consequences.”

You sneered at him where he couldn’t see. “I don’t give a fuck about me. Beat me, torture me, cut my toes off one by one, I don’t care. You’ll kill me when you figure out I’ve got nothing to say to you and I will die honorably.”

He laughs and it makes a sliver of uncertainty worm through you. “I’m not going to kill you, sweetheart.” The pet name makes you queasy but his response only confuses you. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“When our little talk ends, the door closes. If you don’t tell me what I wanna know by the time we’re through here your life as you know it ceases to exist.”

“I already told you to just go ahead and kill me. I’ll die before I tell you anything that would put Rainbow at risk.” Instead of punching you in the ribs or breaking a finger he just leaned in til you could feel the warmth of his chest settle over the top of your bare ass and it felt much more sinister than any strike or blow.

“Oh sweetheart, there are fates much worse than death.” You still don’t quite understand and he senses you struggling to grasp the full scope of the threat so he takes a break from the spanking and explains it to you in full detail.

You hear him set the belt down on something before you feel his gloved hands caressing your ass, running the covered fingertips over his handiwork and down the swell of your cheeks before dipping lower and skimming the slit of your sex. His fingers come away slick and he smirks behind the mask where you can’t see.

“If you don’t tell me what I want to hear then I’m going to take these-“ You hear a jingle from behind you and know they’re your dog tags, probably scalped from your neck as he undressed you no doubt. “-and I’m going to throw them out in the woods with your dead squad mates. They’ll think one of two things. Either you died out there like a good soldier and some animal, pack of coyotes perhaps, carted your body away or, I finally caught up with you, gave you an ultimatum, and you sold them out from under the rug. Either way they’ll come to the conclusion that you’re beyond saving and they’ll bury you in an empty casket and move on.”

You felt it all coming to a head and the audacity of it came to be too much. “You’re wrong! They’ll never stop looking for me! You think they’ll give up so easily! They won’t stop until they find me! Ohhhh and they will find me! You are so fucked! You are sooo-“

The crack of the belt against your ass cut off your angry rant, the words dying in a pained yelp as he brought the leather down on your ass in an angry torrent. SMACK. SMACK. SMACKSMACKSMACK.

You clenched against the pain, trying to curl up on yourself but of course it was no use, you could only sit and take it. When the onslaught ended he continued.

“You didn’t let me finish. Either way… no one is going to come looking for you. And I think I’m starting to like you so instead of killing you, like you’re dying to have me do-“ You feel the return of his fingers, the cool leather of his glove soothing against the heated stinging welts already swelling on your cheeks. Then they glided down and you felt his fingers spread your lips and when he spoke this time he sounded different somehow, louder and clearer.

“-I’m going to keep you all to myself. I’ll house you, clean you, feed you. During the day I’ll keep you tied up in here, my own sweet little stress relief, make the walls of this room echo with screams of a different caliber for a change.”

It wasn’t until you felt the flat of his tongue glide up the length of your sex that you realized why he sounded so much clearer, he’d taken his mask off and now he was casually eating your pussy, tongue dipping in between his fingers spreading you apart so gently, a stark contrast from the harsh belt treatment he’d been afflicting upon you moments before.

He hummed into your pussy and you squirmed against the heat of him, simultaneously freaking out yet undeniably turned on as his tongue probed you and his hands caressed the cheeks of your ass. He pulled away and you weren’t sure if it was a sigh of relief or a whine of protest that built a home in your throat, kept at bay only by the last mustering of your will.

“So sweet. When I was a boy growing up in Birmingham, I used to play in the sugar cane fields for hours. Me and my friends would cut away stalks from the edges of the field for a taste. You taste just like that, fresh cut sugar cane.” You shuddered in his hold and told yourself it was all psychological warfare, it changed nothing. When he had the information he seeked he would cut you down just like he did all the rest.

You felt him step away from behind you and come up to your side, his hands trailing like fire along the length of your body as he did so. He reached under the platform you were tied to and suddenly your arms pulled forward in front of you, forcing your chest to pull forward and press against the bench. Your ass raised up high and unshielded as you felt the collective wetness of his saliva and your slick coating your lips, chilly exposed like this, but it doesn’t take long before he’s resumed the position and you feel his hot breath fanning against it, rewarming his meal.

“We’re gonna have a lot fun, sugar cane.”

“So.” Lick. “Much.” Lick. “Fun.” Lick.

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped, at this new angle he had access to the fulty of you and his tongue dipped down and swiped at your clit on the last lick making you momentarily lose yourself in the white hot pleasure of it. “Fuck!”

“I intend to.” You don’t grasp until much later the meaning of that, lost to the way he eats you so slow and sensual. He chuckles behind you and you know now, without a shadow of a doubt, that he intends to keep true to his word because he’s stopped questioning you, stopped beating you, just content to sample his new toy. Your life is over, because you won’t give up Rainbow and you won’t tell him a goddamn thing and your stubborn honor has damned you in a way that was worse than death and now you’ll spend the rest of your days keeping his cock warm until you’ve gone insane from it.

Taking his time and savoring the taste of you on his tongue, you feel the first press of his padded fingers prodding your entrance. Gently pushing forward til he was in just up to the first knuckle, sawing them in and out slowly and twisting them in your heat as his tongue stayed latched to your clit, suckling it.

“Deimos!” He rewarded you with an open mouthed kiss to your clit as he pushed his gloved fingers further into your depths, exploring them as your back arched nice and pretty for him as far as your binds would allow.

He pulled his tongue away to your dismay but kept his fingers buried in you, stilling their movement but curling them inside you to press teasingly against your sweet spot. “Got some new insights for me, sugar cane?”

Your lips were sealed shut as far as that was concerned but your resolve was waning, you recognized the point of no return you were quickly approaching and despite the horrible implications of your future, there were just too many good men and women with their lives on the line for you to justify the alternative.

So you shifted shamelessly to push back on his fingers, eyes squeezing shut as you tried to focus on the pleasure and not the humiliating position you were quickly failing to resist against. He recognized the move as you made it and gave you what was to be his last warning.

“Let me put it in no uncertain terms for you. When I come right in here-“ He flexed his fingers inside you to demonstrate his point, eliciting a high whine from you. “-your time is up. You can sing all you want but past that point you’re no longer your own woman. You’re mine, do you understand?”

You didn’t even consider your freedom for the briefest of seconds, just nodded solemnly as you accepted his terms, though little they mattered. Although he’d seen your nod it mustn’t have been good enough as you felt the all too familiar crack of the leather, jolting you from your thoughts and bringing you back to the present. You clenched down on his fingers, eyes rolling in their sockets at the euphoric sensation.

“I need a verbal answer.” Your grit your teeth for not the first and certainly not the last time dealing with him. “Screw you!”

He laughed, it was easy and carefree. “All in good time, sweetheart. I’m gonna enjoy my meal first.” With that he seemed to be done speaking, leaving you to stew over a decision you’d already made and ruminate in the consequences of it. He dove eagerly back into the heat of your sex, plunging his fingers enthusiastically in and out of your pussy while his tongue lapped at the juices that seeped out around them.

He watched as your toes curled in on themselves, mouth dropping open where he couldn’t see and expelling breath in a silent moan. He proved to be skillful in a manner of ways and this seemed to be no exception to the rule, making light work of bringing your pleasure to a head and threatening to throw you over the edge quicker than you’d like to admit.

You fought for control of your body but it was a battle you were unavoidably losing as he pulled his fingers free and replaced them with his tongue, pushing it deep into you and occupying his hands by rubbing circles over your clit with his thumb. It was a devastating sensation that pulled your muscles taut, your head raised up off the padding and tipped back as far as your restraints would allow as you suddenly came violently.

He spurred it on, lapping at your sopping wet slit and never ceasing the movements of his thumb, making you shake and really test the strength of your ties. He drove you through your orgasm, not even slowing as you began to plead with him to stop, it was too much. When you thought you’d tumble head first into a second one he finally relented, leaving you gasping and panting as you vaguely heard him shucking his pants behind you.

You felt something hard and blunt at your entrance as he slid his cock up to you and rifled it up and down your slit, wetting the tip and enjoying the light springy jump that coursed through you every time his head hit your clit.

“Last chance, sweetheart. As much as I’d hate to lose your company, you’re running out of chances to secure your freedom.” You could hardly focus on his words, still caught between struggling to catch up from your first mind blowing orgasm and steeling yourself against the promise of a second one if the way your pussy was trying and failing to catch his tip and suck it in was any indicator.

He lined himself up and pushed forward, causing you both to moan out together as he stretched you open on his girth. “Fuck me, you are sweet.” He slid home, hips pushing flush with yours as you adjusted to the way he seemed to fill you out perfectly. Your head dipped as he began a steady, unrushed rhythm, slapping his hips to yours every time he drove it home.

You had stopped breathing since he’d entered you and suddenly took one huge sucking breath in, filling your lungs just to immediately expel it as a broken but pleasured moan. He growled behind you and you could feel it vibrate through you in a whole new sensation, overloading your senses, coursing white and blinding in its intensity.

“Please!” You had no idea what you were begging for but it just felt so right, losing your sense of self, reduced to nothing more than nerve endings. He reached forward and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling back and taking out the slack as your back arched to accommodate his hold.

“Oh god!” You could hardly imagine how you must look, head cocked back and slack-jawed as he split you open from behind. Each thrust was precise and calculated, wringing you for every last drop of pleasure until your mind went blank and your whole being submitted to the fucking.

He leaned forward, breath hot and heavy right behind your ear as he spoke and he must’ve known you were a goner because instead of trying to extract information he just spoke of the future. All the ways he’d bend you to his will, how he’d break you and build you back better in his image.

“It’s truly a shame we met under these circumstances. Under a different light I’d have enjoyed training you, honing your skills instead of wasting all this potential such as it is. Under me you’d have made an unstoppable operator. Now you’ll never see combat again.”

For some reason this truth had only now dawned on you, some deep part of your brain had held out hope of escape or retaliation or vengeance but cock drunk beneath him you knew it was hopeless, he was absolutely right and you were ultimately fucked.

As if he’d been holding back he renewed his vigor and began to pound into you from behind with abandon. Your mouth was dry and your knees were screeching at you from below, despite the padding, but all you could focus on was the pool of pleasure building heavy in your gut. There was no turning back from this, your mind screamed for you to do something but any other thoughts were beyond you and so you expelled them with the rest and took your fate as it sealed, securing a chokehold around your throat and brought you to heel.

You came around his cock, the second world shattering orgasm of the evening and much more all encompassing in its magnitude. You were certain you felt your heart stop, lungs burning for air as you clenched down around him. Seconds later he followed, coming with a half moan, half growl as you squeezed him for all he was worth. White hot spend filled you from the inside out and it was as blissful as it was damning.

The game was up, you were his. You stayed like that, riding the bliss and eyeing up the defeat that swelled up to take its place as it faded. He pulled out of you slowly and you felt his seed drip from you, slide down your thighs and puddle on the bench below you. You hardly heard him as he cleaned himself up and redressed. There was a click as the door to the room opened for the first time you were aware to hear it and two men stepped into the room.

There was a moment of nothing before you felt two firm hands wrap themselves around your arms and loosen your binds. They held you up til the tips of your feet hardly grazed the cool concrete floor and stationed on either side of you, held you up for inspection. You lifted your head to see him standing before you, dog tags dangling from one fist and the belt folded over on itself held tight in the other.

“I can’t say I’m disappointed in you, soldier. You stood your ground and that commands immense bravery. But you knew the rules and now you’ll reap what you’ve sown. You mustered up enough strength to gather saliva in between your lips and spit at his face. It didn’t quite make it and landed at his feet but you could hear a smile in his voice as he commanded the men at your side to carry you up to his quarters. He’d be seeing you again very soon.

#dead dove do not eat #tw noncon #tw dubcon #dark fic #tw dark content #tw dark themes #r6s #r6s deimos #r6s Deimos smut #r6s Deimos x you #not cod

102 notes · View notes

throneofsapphics · 8 months

Note

i LOVE your angsty poly!rowaelin x reader fics

can i request more? i will gobble up anything you write not even kidding 💕

some questions are better left alone

Rowaelin x f!Reader

(part two) (part three)

Summary: He shoved a plate of sweets at me. “For both of our sakes,” he said carefully, “I’m going to pretend those words never came out of your mouth. Do you understand?”

Warnings: Angst, drinking, nightmares, small injury, rowan is mean

Word Count: ~5k

A/N: You are so sweet! I swear, angst is my love language. Reader is from a foreign court/country, has magic, and is able to mindspeak - I kept it a bit vague!

I scribbled the note, leaving it on my desk in my room. Going out. Not very descriptive, but I was in a rush, I’d forgotten what night it was, and I’d promised a friend I’d meet them - some bard was coming through.

My mates weren’t opposed to me having friends. They knew I did, I just kept them separated, tried to keep a life separate from the castle.

Maybe I should’ve left a better note, because a certain Wolf showed up halfway through. I caught a whiff of his scent - fresh too, and I knew he was in the damn tavern. But - I didn’t know if he’d come alone or come after me.

“I’ll be right back.” I leaned in, whispering to my friend, and keeping my voice low. I slid through the crowd with ease. I spotted him in a shadowy corner, leaning up against the wall. I dropped the glamor after I got within a few feet of him. His eyes glinted, a smirk crossing his face. He had come here after me, and waited for me to track him down. I let out a long breath, but stood next to him. His eyes were constantly scanning the crowd.

“Why are you here?” I kept my voice low enough that only he could hear me.

“Enjoying the songs, of course.” His voice was honeyed with false innocence, and I could tell he was messing with me.

“You missed the one about you.”

“Shame. Which one?”

I groaned. “I’m not playing into your ego.”

“Pity, maybe I should’ve let them see your note.”

“What’s wrong with my note?” My voice went taut. “And why were you in my rooms?”

“Two words.” He tutted.

“I was in a rush.” I hissed, then he handed me the paper. He took it. “You bastard.” I snarled.

“Calm your tits.” He laughed, “I left a better one - ‘taking Y/N out to have fun for once.’”

“Thank you.” I said, begrudgingly. He did save me some grief. A lot of grief now that I think about it.

“I am a bit hurt you left without me. Now, are you going to introduce me to your friends?” A shark-like grin appeared on his face.

“Are you going to play nice?” I countered, crossing my arms.

“Me? I’m always nice.” He scoffed. “Besides, I’m your best friend in this world. I have a right to know your other ones.” I rolled my eyes, even though the statement warmed my heart - just a bit.

“Alright. Best friend.” I teased, “Are you going to scare them off?”

“Do your mates know about them?”

“Yes.” I sighed.

“And who your mates are?”

“Indeed.” I fought back my annoyance.

“They’re not scared?” He raised his eyebrows. Any sane person would be intimidated by the Queen and King of Terrasen.

“I won’t let their majesties anywhere near them.” He chuckled, but I could tell he understood. I wasn’t ashamed of my friends, not by any means, but if either of my mates somehow thought they were a threat … it would make things very difficult. I pushed off the wall, and led him back through the crowd. I reached our booth, about halfway down the wall and with a good view of the stage, and dropped it. Instead of two benches, it was rounded, one long bench around a circular table. Cian, Isla, Effie, and Arran. To their credit, they only gaped for a few seconds, before shuffling around to make room for both of us. I scooched in, and let Fenrys sit next to me.

I gestured towards each of them, “Effie, Arran, Isla, Cian,” And then towards Fenrys. I was halfway tempted to introduce him as ‘pain in my ass,’ or ‘bastard’, but I went for something that would piss him off more. “Lord Moonbeam.” I bit my lip as he stomped on my foot.

“Please don’t call me that. It’s Fenrys.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Isla squeaked, her face bright red. The others echoed the sentiment, but thankfully not looking at him like he’s a God. I saw the way he was eyeing her,

Are you really going to bed my friends? I said in his mind, a bit louder than necessary.

Why would you deny them a good time?

I swear to the Gods Fenrys.

Calm your tits.

That’s twice you’ve mentioned my tits. Should Aelin be worried?

Don’t you dare. He growled, but didn’t use that phrase again.

It shouldn’t have been surprising that he got along well with them. He charmed them easily - none of the bitter bastard I’m used to. He and Isla, to my chagrin, got along very well. I didn’t move to interrupt or interfere, even though I wanted to keep them as far away from each other as possible. They could be cute together, but I had a feeling Fenrys was toying with her - flirting for fun. Maybe she was doing the same. I didn’t know her that well, after all, only meeting her a few weeks ago.

A few hours later, and after several drinking contests, I was feeling very tipsy. Maybe even drunk. Definitely drunk based on how the room spun. But, with a glamor firmly in place, I’d managed to drink a group of soldiers under the table. Where are they from? I have no idea. But every time one started to eye me in a more-than-friendly way, they seemed to pale, and look away very quickly. It took me a few times to figure out Fenrys was glaring daggers at them. I stomped on his foot.

“Leave them alone.” I whispered. He gave me an incredulous look. “They don’t deserve you looking like you’ll murder them.”

“You’re not doing anything.” He countered.

“I am ignoring them.” I emphasized. “And that works well enough.”

Effie returned, sliding a goblet across the table towards me. Fenrys snatched it before I could, and took a sip. He nearly spit it out, his face turning red, and shoved it back at me. “What is that?” He coughed.

“Apparently something too strong for your delicate sensibilities.” I took a large sip, enjoying the warmth it provided as the liquid burned, sliding down my throat.

He gaped at me - but I kept drinking it anyway.

“It’s a homemade liquor.” Effie replied instead. He grimaced, staring at my glass like it might jump out and attack him. “It grows on you.” She added, biting back a laugh at his expression.

I finished it, and stood to bring it back up to the bar, but swayed slightly on my feet. Before I could grip the table, Fenrys’s arm shot out to steady me.

“We’re going home.” He stood.

“You don’t get to make my decisions.”

Effie grabbed the glass from my hands. “It’s almost closing anyways.”

“Traitor.” I mumbled. The others had left ten minutes ago.

Effie lived above the bar - how we met in the first place. “Go home.” She ordered instead, giving Fenrys a look. One that said - get her home safe, like I needed a minder.

He only laughed and looped an arm through mine, half-dragging me out the door.

“You’re not nearly as drunk as me.” I complained, disentangling my arm once we’d left the building. I watched my feet carefully on the cobblestones.

“I didn’t beat half of the Bane in a drinking contest.”

“So that’s who they were.” I mumbled, and apparently wasn’t paying attention, because I walked right into a column.

“Fuck.” I muttered, stumbling backwards and pressing a hand against my face. My cheekbone will be bruised. Fenrys grabbed me under my arms before I could fall, and howled.

“Asshole.” I muttered, shaking off his grip. He looped his arm through mine, and didn’t let me wiggle out this time. Thankfully, we were almost to the gates and Fenrys quit singing. I tugged my hood up as we got closer to the castle. Nobody needs to know just how drunk I am.

“They’ll see you stumbling.” He drawled.

“They’ll know to mind their business.” I snipped back at him.

“Oooh. Someone’s not looking forward to seeing their mates.” He teased me, his voice a sing-song. I sent a vulgar gesture his way, and he just snorted, dragging me through the halls and depositing me at their door. I waited until he’d walked away before heading to my rooms instead, no sense in waking them up. Besides, on the nights I go out I usually sleep in my own rooms anyways, wanting to wash the alcohol off - and Aelin and Rowan need time alone. They don’t say it, but they were a couple long before me. Maybe I’m assuming things. I’m too drunk to think too much.

Normally Y/N stays in her rooms if she’s gone out, and they won’t argue or try to drag her into their rooms. If she needs space, they’ll let her have it.

But, tonight, Rowan had a feeling. A feeling he needed to be there. To see her. Like something might be wrong. He slipped out of bed, looking at the clock. Three hours past midnight. She should be back by now.

“Rowan?” Aelin mumbled sleepily, her eyes opening.

“I’m going to check on Y/N.”

Those turquoise eyes opened further. “I’ll come with you.” She yawned. He didn’t fight his wife as she climbed out of bed, grabbing a robe and wrapping it around herself. They moved quickly and silently, through the passage that connects both of their rooms.

He slowly pushed the door open. Asleep, sprawled out on her side, on the couch.

Safe - but a giant blue bruise blooming on her cheek. And absolutely reeking of alcohol. Did she get into some sort of brawl? He’d kill Fenrys. Slowly. Aelin placed a hand on his arm, but he could tell she was just as angry.

“Y/N.” A voice murmured, and I felt a hand running down my arm. A mumbled, some intelligible noise.

“Y/N. Wake up.” The voice, feminine, was more insistent. Aelin. Why was Aelin in here?.

Her eyes opened, glassy, pupils slightly dilated. Drunk. And very drunk. How fucking much did she drink? Y/N could almost drink Aelin under the table.

“Petal.” His mate's voice was low. “Did you get in a fight?”

“A what?” She was confused.

“Did you get in a rutting brawl?” I said from the door, not bothering to keep my voice low. Aelin turned and glared at me.

“What?”

My eyes narrowed. “Don’t play dumb.”

Her hand went up to her cheek, wincing, and she threw her head back in laughter, nearly howling. “I walked into a pillar.” She said in between laughs.”

Aelin was biting back a laugh, but I was just getting more pissed. Maybe it was a bit funny - but she was drunk enough she got herself hurt.

“Where was Fenrys?” My sharp tone had Aelin cutting a look at me. Don’t start.

“Caught me before I could hit the ground.” Her words slurred together.

“Come on.” Aelin tugged at her arm, pulling her up. “I’m not going to let you choke on your own vomit.”

She looked offended. “I am not throwing up.” The words came out very insistent. Aelin gave her a bemused smile, but pulled her up anyway, leading her towards her bathroom. “You reek.” She told her.

“That is rude.” Y/N stuck her tongue out.

I rolled my eyes, but followed them, grabbing a nightgown for Y/N to put on.

“What do I smell like?” She asked Aelin, stumbling next to her. Aelin’s arm wrapped around her waist holding her closely.

“Right now? Alcohol.”

Y/n let out an over dramatic sigh. “No, what’s my scent? You’re jasmine and lemon verbena, and he’s pine and snow.”

“Nutmeg and honey.” I answered from behind her, and her head turned, giving me a goofy smile.

“That’s nice.” She mumbled. I fought the smile threatening to form on my face.

Aelin was very sweet, helping me get in the tub, even washing me. I tried to stop her, but she cut me a glare. A nasty one. After that I let her.

“Who did you go see?” She asked, scrubbing my shoulders.

“Some Bard came into town.” I said, before sighing. Her touch feels incredible. “You have magic fingers.” I told her.

Her eyes crinkled, “and you’re drunk.”

“Maybe a bit. Fenrys told me I beat half of the Bane in a drinking contest.”

“The Bane?” Rowan’s voice came from the door. Low. And deadly low.

“That’s what he said.” I confirmed, looking at Aelin instead, who pressed her lips in a tight line. “What’s wrong with the bane?”

“They have a reputation.”

“I have a reputation.” I exclaimed.

“Excuse me?” Her voice grew a bit shrill.

“I drank half of them under the table.”

“Right.” She breathed out.

She thought Rowan was going to explode when he heard her say she has a reputation. He relaxed - barely. He needed something to do or he might blow up.

“Rowan get a towel.” I ordered without looking, and heard him moving around, before the soft fabric was pressed in my hands. “Help her out.”

“I don’t nee-” I pressed my finger to her lips. It’ll help him. I told her, speaking mind to mind.

Okay. Her sweet voice floated through my mind.

Even though anger rolled from him in waves, his hands were gentle as he lifted her out, holding her steady. I wordlessly handed him the towel, and gave him the chance to fuss, slipping a nightgown over her - one he’d already picked out. He went far enough to make her clean her mouth, and dried her hair for her. That brought a smile to my lips.

“Thank you.” She told him after, and me.

She tried to wobble off towards her bed, her legs shaky under her. I cut her off before she could reach the door. “You’re coming with us.”

“But it’s your-”

“No buts.” But … What was she going to say? Before ‘it’s your-’

“It’s our what?” Rowan asked for me.

She frowned. “Your night. For the two of you.”

I frowned, looking at Rowan. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.” When she’s more likely to remember it. He added to me.

“Nothing to talk about.” She mumbled, but let him pick her up, carrying her back to our room.

I groaned as the morning light hit me, streaming through the windows. My head started absolutely pounding. “Gods.” I groaned, pressing my palms into my eyes - like I might shove the headache away. A rough hand tugged one of mine away, pressing a glass vial into it. I peeked the free eye open, squinting to see Rowan.

“I’m surprised.” I murmured. A pain tonic. “Thank you.”

“We need to talk.” He grunted. “And I don’t want to deal with your whining.” Several months ago, I might’ve been hurt by the comment, but I was used to it by now, and ignored the second part, swigging the slightly vile liquid down. Fighting back the urge to make a face.

“One day I’ll figure out how to make those taste better.” I glared at the offending piece of glass. Rowan snatched it out of my hands.

“Lets go.” He jerked his head.

“Alright alright.” That’s when I felt the heat on my face. I looked across in the mirror. A large purple bruise bloomed across my feet. “What did I do?” My eyes were wide.

“You don’t remember?” He snorted, and left the room.

“Bastard.” I muttered under my breath, low enough he wouldn’t hear, and grabbed a robe before following him. “What did I do last night?” I repeated, walking into the sitting room and digging through my mind for what the hell might’ve happened.

He didn’t answer, pouring tea instead. “Where’s Aelin?” I tried.

“Training.” He said curtly.

“Rowan.” I said quietly. “What happened?” My memories cut off right before leaving the Tavern.

He shoved the cup in my hands, watching and waiting for me to take a sip. I did, and waited for him to respond.

“What do you remember?” He questioned, his voice was cold - usually meaning I’m about to be extensively lectured or punished for something.

“Up until leaving, with Fenrys.” He can almost always tell when I’m lying.

“You hurt yourself. Walking into a pillar.”

I sucked my lips in, fighting the urge to laugh. “Of course I did.” I choked out.

His eyes narrowed. “It’s not funny. What if Fenrys wasn’t with you?”

“I have other friends.” I countered, crossing my arms.

“Who we’ve never met.” His words came out flat. Emotionless.

“Would you like to meet them?” I said, feeling a bit on edge. “Do you not trust me to be a good judge of character?” That wasn’t exactly fair … but I didn’t and don’t need them to approve of my friends.

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” He growled. “Are you embarrassed by us? Do you not want them to know you’re with us?”

Cruel. He was playing dirty. “Of course not. They know” I kept my voice calm.

“Then why?”

“You never asked.” I countered. It’s true.

“You never asked to meet our friends, and we introduced you.”

My breaths got heavier. This wasn’t fair, that’s not the same thing. “When you introduced me, I was just a member of a foreign court, a delegate.”

He stalked up to me, standing so close that if I took a deep breath, my breasts would brush against him. “Was? Aren’t you still just a member of that court?” His voice was taunting, and cruel. Absolutely cruel. He meant for his words to hurt, and I could feel the slight satisfaction running through him when it did, but it was quickly pushed out by regret.

“Maybe I am, and maybe it’s time I go home for a bit.” Silver might’ve lined my eyes, but I hit right back. I turned sharply on my heel, walking silently towards my rooms, out the main door. I didn’t look back as I closed it softly, a slight click.

He didn’t follow, and maybe that’s what hurt the most.

I collapsed on my bed, my knees pressing into my elbows, my head held in my hands, trying to figure out what about last night set him off. Made him so angry he’d say those things. Not that I acted much better.

I wanted him to follow me. To tell me not to go - or to yell at me. Something. I paced for the better part of an hour, before deciding to go back. Porting off back home wouldn’t do anything, it would just make things worse.

I took the direct passage this time, hearing another door creak open at the same time as mine. Rowan looked directly at me. “Aren’t you supposed to be gone?” The same cruel tone as earlier. Maybe I imagined that regret. I couldn’t say anything, or my voice might’ve broken. I took a step back, closing the door.

I heard Aelin’s voice, “gone where?” But I’d already turned, heading back. “Rowan. What did you do?”

Is this what the rest of my life will be like? Cruel barbs, hurtful words from both sides. A traitorous thought ran through my mind, why couldn’t it just be Aelin? But I dismissed that immediately. I couldn’t imagine not having both of them, not having two mates. It would be wrong, it wouldn’t feel complete. But for them - they could imagine it, they’ve lived it, and likely were perfectly fine before I came along. The two of them fit. Balanced each other perfectly.

Am I some kind of wrench thrown in? A piece being forced into a puzzle, one that doesn’t quite fit? I’ve heard of mating bonds being rejected before. Ours is already sealed but … Even thinking about it brings a sharp pain in my chest. Gods they’re already a part of me, dug in so deep it would take something horrible and cataclysmic to drive me away from them.

I hadn’t told them I loved them. They hadn’t told me. A final barrier that hasn’t been crossed.

I sought out Fenrys around lunch, convincing him to come eat with me in my rooms. He seemed wary, considering this is definitely out-of-character for me.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, shoving a tart in his mouth.

“What were Rowan and Aelin like before me?”

He choked slightly, coughing into his hand, but finishing the food. I watched him intently. I needed to know. Had to know.

“Fine. They were fine, at least it seemed that way.” He stared back at me. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m an outsider.” I started. He gave me a look that said, no shit. “I don’t … I don’t know if I belong here.”

“I was an outsider.” Fenrys leaned back. “You know I’m from Doranelle. It was difficult at first, but I found my place.” He spit out the country’s name, like it was poison.

“You rejected Doranelle.”

“I did.” He nodded, his tone cautious, like he knew where I was headed.

“I don’t reject my home.”

“You can belong to more than one place.” He argued.

“But me being here is causing an issue.”

“Rowan and Aelin fought. Still fight sometimes. Does that mean they don’t belong together?” Fenrys is more perceptive than people give him credit for.

“They’re different.”

“How?” He sounded a bit exasperated.

“Because they share bonds together I never will.” That truth finally came out. “And if there was a situation they had to …” My voice broke.

He shoved a plate of sweets at me. “For both of our sakes,” he said carefully, “I’m going to pretend those words never came out of your mouth. Do you understand?”

I nodded. A warning - if those questions were brought up … the results that come out might cause irreparable damage. Sometimes those things are better left swallowed. At the same time, I want to know my place with them. We ate in silence for a few minutes before the door breezed open. Aelin, I’d know the jasmine and lemon verbena anywhere.

“Really?” She sighed, “Choosing that dog over me?”

“I wasn’t aware there was a choice.” She raised an eyebrow, but sat next to me, grabbing some sweets.

“You always have the best sweets.” She popped a truffle in her mouth, moaning.

“And you always raid my collection.”

“They’re bought on Crown gold.” She winked. Fenrys winced across from me, the action thankfully going unnoticed by Aelin, who had her eyes closed.

I didn’t reply, but drank some water instead, the chocolates suddenly seemed unappetizing. “I do keep them just for you.” I covered smoothly. She placed a grateful kiss on my cheek, before turning, throwing her legs over my lap and lounging on the couch. I absentmindedly rubbed circles into her calves.

“I heard you beat half of the Bane in a drinking contest. Aedion is ashamed. I’m quite proud.” She grinned.

“Are you complimenting someone else's drinking prowess?” Fenrys looked amused, leaning back and crossing an ankle over his knee.

“I’m giving credit where credit is due.”

“Very kind of you.” I kept a smile. A forced one, and kept rubbing circles into her legs. Where credit is due. Drinker, bed warmer, what else? Aelin seemed to notice the shift, because she kicked Fenrys out, he left with a tight glance between the two of us, but no complaints.

“What’s wrong with you?” She nudged my thigh with her toe.

I flinched slightly. “A bit homesick.” Close enough.

“Rowan told me about that.” I could see the bored expression on her face from the corner of my eyes. She’s keeping a tight lid on her emotions.

“I sometimes say things I regret.” Regretting something doesn’t mean it wasn’t true.

“We all do.” I could hear the same echo, doesn’t mean it wasn’t true.

Ask the damn question Y/N. I chided myself, I can’t put words into her mouth. “Did he mean it?” The words came out quickly.

“Isn’t that a question you should ask him?”

She has a point, so I countered with something I should ask her. “How do you feel about it? Both things.” Please don’t make me repeat them. I pleaded to her silently. She took some pity on me.

“I wouldn’t mind meeting your friends, but I understand we can be … intimidating. But I don’t know if you’re keeping them from us because of that, or if you’re scared we’ll drive one of them off.” I waited for her to continue. There wasn’t technically a question there. “Do you want to be a member of this court? Would that mean you’re choosing?”

Choosing. Right. Absolute loyalty - something I can’t promise. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

“You’re our mate.” She said softly. “And you have your place here.”

“Are you telling me to know my place?” Maybe that wasn’t fair.

“I didn’t say that.” She said sharply. But you didn’t not say it. Gods I wanted to hear all of the things that weren’t said, but I wanted them to soothe me. I don’t want the truth right now. I want sweet things meant to make me feel better. I’d even take little lies over these tiny cracks I’m feeling. The faltering, the hesitation. “Are you having trouble adjusting?”

“Aelin it’s been nearly two years.”

“And we’re immortal.”

“I’ve found a life here.” We’re both skilled at non-answers. I still hadn’t looked at her, couldn’t meet her gaze. Around her, and him, my eyes tend to show everything. A wall I can’t seem to put up.

“Look at me.” Kind, but unyielding. I do.

Tears are threatening to flood down her face, I can see it. I can’t help but think maybe she’s being a bit oversensitive. I’ve seen her in her own court .. well, the one she doesn’t really claim. Tough love? Or soft?

“Was it better without me?”

Oh Gods I did not expect that. I moved fast, tugging her to straddle my lap. “Don’t ever say that.” My voice was harsh, my hand gripping her chin, making sure she looked directly at me. “Did we make you feel that way?”

She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, I just noticed it was bloodied and bruised - like she’d been biting on it all day. “I don’t know how much of it is just in my head.” So we did make her feel like that, at least partially.

“We can’t reassure you or fix ridiculous notions if you don’t tell us.”

She laughed darkly, pushing my hand away from her face, and turning her head. “That’s part of the problem. They’re ridiculous to you.” I wrenched her head back to face me.

“Don’t look away from me.” I snarled, holding her even when she flinched. “They are ridiculous, even if you believe them. We weren’t better off without you. You’re a wonderful part of us, part of us we didn’t know was there. Just like we’re a part of you. You belong with us.” I emphasized. “Come to us when you feel this way. Let us fix it.”

“There isn’t anything to fix.” Her eyes kept steady on mine, although I could see her temptation to look away.

“Then tell me exactly what’s been running through your head.” She swallowed harshly. “You either know it’s wrong, or you’re scared to bring it up.” Her eyes gave it away. Both.

“Can we talk about this later?” She pleaded, breaking eye contact, her bottom lip quivering.

“Look at me.” I gritted my teeth, and she did. The vulnerability in her eyes made me sigh. “Promise you’ll actually talk about it.”

I watched her hesitate, but she did promise.

Falling asleep was uncomfortable. There was a tension drifting between the three of us, but I didn’t feel like talking about it yet, and they respected that. Barely, I could see both of them aching to have the conversation - to get it out of the way, but I needed time to gather my thoughts. A night to sleep on it.

Eventually we did drift off to sleep.

“Leave.” Rowan said harshly, his face set in a nasty look. One I’d only seen him give to people who were rude to Aelin or I. What did I do?

“Leave.” Aelin repeated his words with that same look. It was unnatural, it wasn’t them.

“But-”

“Now.” He growled, taking a menacing step towards me.

Another voice came from behind me. “I lied, they were better without you.” I whirled around. Fenrys. The look, they all had the same one.

“I can be better.” I stuttered through the words.

“You don’t get it.” Aelin laughed harshly. “We don’t want you.”

Rowan shoved me through the gates, just a bag in my hands. “Step foot in Terrasen again, and you’re dead.”

They slammed shut in front of me.

“No, no, no, no.” I whispered, tears running down my face, my entire body shaking.

“Y/N.” A disembodied voice said, repeatedly.

“It’s a dream.” My eyes flew open, I felt magic flooding around me. A hand rubbed my back. “Breathe, breathe darling.” Aelin’s voice, but I couldn’t see her. A dream, it was a nightmare.

I heard Rowan, his voice strained. “Bring your magic back in. Call it back to you.”

I did, and it came back joyfully, swirling against the shield of wind holding it in, with teasing pokes, before flying back into me, and the room was encased in moonlight.

“Gods, I’m sorry.” I sighed. “Please, don’t be. I’ve burned several bed sheets before.” Her voice was light, a smile on her face. “Besides, your magic isn’t scary, it’s quite beautiful actually.” I could feel her magic bubbling, wanting out to play, mine reacted in kind.

“Tomorrow.” Rowan said, and we turned in sync to glare at him. The serious look on his face remained, and Aelin huffed before tugging me into her arms - pointedly leaving him out.

#rowaelin x reader #throne of glass fic #rowaelin x y/n #poly!rowaelin #poly!rowaelin x y/n #poly!rowaelin x reader #aelin galathynius x y/n #aelin galathynius x reader #aelin x y/n #aelin x reader #rowan whitethorn x reader #rowan whitethorn x y/n #angst

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anincompletelist · 4 months

Text

six sentence sunday :D

OH BOY I AM SO LATE TO THIS TODAY! thank you to @getmehighonmagic @kiwiana-writes @firenati0n @ninzied @sparklepocalypse @magicandarchery @affectionatelyrs YA'LL ARE AMAZING AS PER USUAL !!!!! I loved reading everything ya'll had to share :')

okay this snippet goes out to @firenati0n I adore you and probably would not already have 5k of this silly little random new wip already written if it weren't for our late night yelling over discord kshdkjsdh <3 (I owe you my LIFE for coming up with the usernames omg)

so here's a bit of what I guess we're calling the anonymous server fic?? enjoy!

EarlGreyEnthusiast: Your ability to separate a single thought into nine different messages is quite impressive, but I can’t say I’m surprised given your handle. I’m honored you think I’m both wise and nice. EarlGreyEnthusiast: I’m very sorry to hear that you had a ‘supremely awful’ day. Would you like to talk about it? quadespressolover: yes quadespressolover: pls quadespressolover: but like quadespressolover: only if u have the time. quadespressolover: i don’t wanna be annoying and i tend to ramble [ EarlGreyEnthusiast is typing… ] EarlGreyEnthusiast: I have time.

OPEN TAG to anyone who has not done this already, but also -- @daisymae-12 @read-and-write- @nocoastposts @wordsofhoneydew @happiness-of-the-pursuit @inexplicablymine @firstsprinces @littlemisskittentoes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @zwiazdziarka @iboatedhere @eusuntgratie

I''m a little bit scattered today so I apologize if I tagged you and you've already posted, please let me know if that's the case so I can go read!!

I hope everyone's having a wonderful weekend and doing well! :D

#wips #rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrb fic

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tenpintsof-sundrop · 3 days

Note

Nisha, did you know I would step on some legos barefooted for you? Anyways can’t wait to read for another fandom I have never stepped foot in and would probably never engage with the canon in just because you decided that’s what to make, and I’ve decided to read it anyways. Home cooked meal. -Rotten Anon

The opening line of this message made literal cartoon anime hearts appear above my head, just so you know <3

Also you have inspired me to post a rundown of my WIPs because I am really excited about what I have been working on. And for two of these fandoms, I know you have said you know nothing about the canon, but for the third, I am not sure, so we'll see.

My Current WIPs April/May 2024

Heaven's Gate (for The Walking Dead) - Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader. Strangers to Lovers/Soulmates/Lovers Reunited. Angst, Fluff, Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 1 to Season 5. 17k in counting (will be a oneshot). You can find a preview here. In this fic, you and Daryl get separated when the Governor attacks the prison, and though you both believe the other person is dead (or long gone) you find each other at the most unlikely time, in the most unlikely place.

I am super excited about this fic, and the themes of hope that I have woven into it. Because yes, I unironically love writing about hope and how the human spirit can persevere - which is something that my favourite moments in The Walking Dead show. This is first draft complete and just needs to be edited.

The Jaws of Life (for DC Titans) - Jason Todd x GN!Reader. Sequel to Emergency Contact. Lovers Reunited. Extreme Angst, Smut, Hurt and (some) Comfort. Set during Season 3. 21k in counting (will probably be a oneshot - if it needs to be split up, it will be put in two parts, but I hope I can get away with a oneshot). (I highly recommend that everyone go read the original in the meantime, because it is one of my best fics ever.) In this fic, you and Jason struggle with the new meaning of your relationship after what happened with Deathstroke - only for this tentative change to be harshly disrupted by the Joker. And you're still heavily mourning when a red hooded stranger breaks into your apartment one night, seeking medical care because apparently - you owe him one.

Everyone give Jaycen @nctzenkane a big fucking round of applause for this one, because he was randomly talking to me about Jason Todd today (we were having the 'some characters are only fuckable in costume' discussion) - and I got talking about how this version of Jason from Titans makes me so passionate to write about the character. And it is solely because of him that I opened up this fic and took a good look at it - I have been thinking about this fic for months, wanting to finish it because I know I am gonna be proud of it, but I kept hesitating because I thought I had a way bigger mountain to conquer with it. But the conversation I had with Jaycen really inspired me and I wrote 5k on the fic just today, and I realized that with this momentum, I could have the first draft done by the end of this month. So I am promising myself that this is gonna be done soon.

Speaking of which - when The Jaws of Life is first draft done, I wanna host a poll so you guys can decide which of those two ^^ fics goes through the editing process to be posted first. Both will be posted (hopefully) by the end of May, but I do wanna know which one you guys wanna see posted first. Which leads me to:

Nasty (for Stranger Things) - Sub!Eddie Munson x Dom!Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. 3k (this is gonna be a shorter fic lmao). In this fic, you and Eddie have been dating for a while, but you don't like that all of his attempts to have sex with you have him taking on a (seemingly fake) dom persona. When you finally tell him that you prefer to be more dominant in bed, he isn't disgusted like you thought he might be - he loves it.

This is one I have been sitting on for a while, and right before it was ready to be posted - my brain lost interest in it like tiktok does micro trends. But I think this is gonna be really great to post while the poll for those other fics is cooking because it's short and sweet and for the past few days, whenever I have seen the cover for this in my drafts, I have gotten excited about it again. So I am excited to finish it and show it off to everyone!!

#rotten anon #anonymous #sundrop answers #curren wips #wips #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #jason todd x reader #dc titans #eddie munson x reader #stranger things

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whiskey-tango-matcha · 9 months

Text

Heart. Sick. (m, cold)

clearly the clicky clacky keyboard helped my writers block because here I am, back to churning out a 5k fic in one day lmao. this is a Greyson-centric one, and tbh it's a lot of exposition, and a lot of character development. but don't worry - Greyson is plenty miserable throughout 😅 I hope you guys like these ones that are a little more plot-driven! I honestly set out to write fluff but it wanted to be a drama fest. classic. enjoy!

Cw: male, cold, some mess, coughing, sick character galavanting about instead of just going to bed, implied contagion

“What is your problem today?”

Greyson’s head snapped up at the sound of his boss’s voice. He raised an eyebrow and put down his knife; this seemed like the kind of conversation that required his full attention. “What?” he asked, brilliantly.

Elijah crossed his arms. He had been leaning against the prep table, but straightened up to his full height when the chef regarded him. “You’ve been here for an hour and you haven’t even stopped in the office to say hi,” he said. Did he hear how lame and codependent he sounded? Yes. But that was their friendship – lame, codependent, and most of all consistent. Greyson always made the office his first stop when he got in; they checked in with one another, mapped out the day, traded stories from the night before if one of them had been off. Not having his morning gossip session with Greyson made Elijah feel like he was living in a weird, wrong, nega-dimension, and he didn’t want that to become a thing.

The chef huffed out a laugh. “Seriously?” he asked, picking his knife back up. “I have a lot of shit to do today, Lij,” he said. “Matt called out.”

“Oh,” Elijah said, immediately feeling stupid. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I am telling you,” Greyson said, looking pointedly up at his boss. “Right now.”

Elijah bit his tongue; this was exactly what he meant. Greyson wasn’t himself today. Matt calling out was obviously stressful, but the chef never let things like that make him angry, or short, or snippy. Something was definitely off – he didn’t know what, but it was definitely something.

“Did he say why?” Elijah asked as Greyson continued to chop. Greyson stopped short again and looked back up.

“Why what?”

“Why he called out.”

“Who?”

“Jesus Christ, Greyson,” Elijah threw his hands in the air. “Did you smoke a bowl the second before you walked in today? Matt. Did Matt say why he was calling out?”

“Oh,” Greyson said, turning once again to his prep work. “Yeah, some sort of flu thing. I said if he has a fever he can’t come in.”

Ah. There it was.

Greyson and Matt were what everyone in the restaurant affectionately called the plague rats – that is to say, they were the ones who brought any illness that was roaming around New York City into the restaurant, ad infinitum. They were the partiers, the club kids (though Greyson, at thirty-one should have reached the end of his club kid stage years ago), the chronic sleepers-around, and the past few months, it had gone from going out a couple times a week, to going out every single night. Hardly a month went by that the two of them weren’t complaining of a sore throat, a cold sore, a stomach bug that they’d been gifted by one of their many nights out.

And, of course, they never went out partying without one another.

“Did he seem okay last night when you guys went out?” Elijah asked, the question so pointed it may as well have been an accusation. Greyson shrugged, covered up the last of the prepped vegetables with plastic wrap, and slid them into the reach-in cooler below the prep station.

“Maybe a little off,” Greyson said. “He didn’t mention anything.”

“What time did you guys leave?” Elijah asked. Greyson gave his boss an incredulous look.

“What are you, a cop? I don’t know, mom, one or two? What difference does it make?”

Elijah recoiled a bit at the chef’s snappiness. “Christ, sorry, just trying to suss out whether he’s actually sick or just hungover.”

“Who gives a fuck?” Greyson asked, pushing his hair back into a small ponytail and tying it with a rubber band Elijah knew came from a package of asparagus. “He’s not coming in, that’s all we really need to know, right? Are we gonna track him down and fire him if he’s hungover?”

“You are on one today,” Elijah said. “No, we’re not going to fucking track him down, Jesus Christ.” This time, Elijah went for an honesty-is-the-best-policy approach. “I’m trying to figure out if you’re in a mood because you have extra work to do, or because you feel like shit.”

Greyson rolled his eyes and breezed past Elijah. He yanked open the walk-in and stepped inside, his boss hot on his trail. The chef grabbed two heads of cauliflower and a few bunches of radishes and nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned to see Elijah practically on top of him. “Stop following me,” he growled, pushing past Elijah again.

“Greyson,” Elijah said to the rapidly-closing walk-in door. He pressed the red button to let himself out, and once again tailed the chef to the prep table. “Greyson, I just want to know if you’re alright,” Elijah said, keeping a healthy distance. Greyson took a deep breath and put down his knife.

“I am fine. Matt will be back tomorrow. Please, let me do my work. Ple – hh...hhNGSTHH-uhh!” Greyson crushed the sudden sneeze into his shoulder, picked up his knife, and continued his work, not acknowledging it at all. Elijah bit his cheek.

“Bless you,” the older man said, accusatory.

“Elijah,” Greyson said, not looking up, “leave me alone.”

Elijah nodded, not that Greyson could see it while he chopped. The GM turned, walked back to the office, and pulled out his phone to text Matt.

Hey, he typed into their chat. Heard you’re sick, hope you’re getting some rest.

Thx boss, Matt typed back almost-instantly. Should be good by tomorrow.

Elijah paused before sending his next text, but then did it before he could question himself too much. Just wanted to ask...was grey acting weird with you last night? He’s totally on one today.

It took a minute or two for Matt to text back – the three bubbles popped up and went away at least three times, as though Matt was trying to figure out what to say but kept second-guessing. Finally, the text came through.

Wait, is chef there today? He told me he was going to call shelly in.

Elijah cocked his head at the phone screen; Shelly, the sous chef Greyson had brought on a month ago, was scheduled off today. Why would he call her in?

No, it’s just greyson today. Why would he call shelly in?

This time, it took Matt no time to respond.

That asshole, he said he was going to take the day off.

I’m lost, Matt. Why would he take the day off…?

Another minute of bubbles popping up and going away ensued. When the text did come through, Elijah felt his face flame. That motherfucker, he thought, slamming his phone down, screen-up on the desk and stalking back to the prep kitchen.

On his open phone, the text from Matt: he gave me this shit. We literally went and had one drink, then he said he had to go bc he felt like trash. Fuckin greyson.

Fuckin’ Greyson. That was for damn sure.

***

He knew he was coming down with something on Monday, but it was one of those excruciatingly slow-to-come-on illnesses that made you wonder if you were actually just crazy, and this whole thing was in your head. A sneeze here, a rogue cough, the sore throat that came and went with several long drinks of water – for three days, Greyson gaslit himself, told himself he was imagining it, took Emergen-C and chalked it up to allergies.

“Morning, boss,” Matt had greeted him.

By the time Thursday – yesterday – had come around, it finally hit him properly. Greyson woke up with a heavy feeling in his chest, his head throbbing, and a lump in his throat to match the one in his stomach. He sighed as he got ready, loaded up on dayquil, and headed into work.

Greyson had returned the greeting with a rough, “HNGSTHH-ue!” and a sharp sniffle. Matt winced as his boss unpacked his knife bag.

“Yikes,” he said, “I guess that girl from the bar last night wasn’t just doing a lot of coke, then?”

“More like the guy I stayed the night with on Saturday didn’t just have a naturally deep and husky voice,” Greyson said, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. “It’s the world’s slowest-to-come-on cold, I swear. I’ve been almost sick since Monday.” He coughed into his sleeve for what felt like a long moment, came up to see a water bottle placed in front of him. “Thanks.”

“No worries,” Matt said. “That makes sense, though,” he continued, “because I can definitely feel it coming on. Thought maybe it was allergies.”

“Sorry, kid,” Greyson said. “We’ll get you outta here early.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “If you’re here, I’m here, boss,” he said. The two of them had prepped in near-silence for awhile, before Greyson seemed to realize something was off.

“Has Elijah come back here yet this morning?” he asked, and Matt shook his head.

“Isn’t he off today? I think Mark said he had some sort of appointment.”

Greyson flashed Matt a little look and the sous chef blushed – Matt and Mark were very recently a thing, a fact that was clear to everyone in the restaurant and that the two of them were attempting to hide, as if any fling that took place within the confines of these walls was anything other than obvious. Greyson figured now wasn’t the time to bully his muse.

“Thank god he’s not here,” he said instead. “Elijah, I mean. I’m so sick of him giving me shit every time I have a stuffy no – NGTSHH-uh! Hh...HTSHH-ue! Fuck.” Greyson slunk away from his prep area to blow his nose, cough again, and wash his hands.

“Bless,” Matt said when Greyson made his way back to his station. “To be fair to Elijah -”

“No,” Greyson stopped Matt by holding up a hand. “We’re not talking about this.”

“I was just going to say, I mean, you have been out a lot since the whole… breakup situation.” The way Matt trailed off made it obvious that he immediately regretted bringing this up. Greyson sniffled, stayed silent for a few moments, and then sighed.

“You're one to talk. And besides, I don’t know how it’s my fault that every club in a five-mile-radius is a cesspool,” Greyson muttered, a lame attempt at a joke. Matt took the bait and huffed out a laugh.

“I don’t think Elijah blames you for the general grossness that is the midtown club scene,” he said. “I think he’s just worried about you.”

Greyson wasn’t so sure. Maybe it had started as worry; worrying was one of Elijah’s greatest passions, after all. But it had been six months since Greyson and Collin had broken up, and in that time worry had turned to annoyance, which had led to what felt like resentment. A month before, Greyson had been laid up with strep throat, thanks to a girl who he swore was trying to steal his tonsils with how deep she shoved her tongue into his mouth, and Elijah didn’t even try to hide his distaste.

“Seriously, Grey?” he had asked when the chef stumbled into the restaurant sweating, shivering, and unable to speak. “Who over the age of twelve gets strep throat? What’s next, mono? Chicken pox? Run the gambit of diseases kids get from putting their hands in too many people’s mouths?”

Greyson knew it was stupid to go out drinking and partying every night; he knew he was too old, knew it was irresponsible, he knew he should be processing the breakup instead of drowning every feeling he had about it in booze and sex. He knew. But he just couldn’t do it. Collin was the first person he’d ever really loved; getting over the coldness with which his first love threw in the towel that was their relationship was easier said than done.

He certainly wasn’t going to tell Elijah of all people that. He loved the man; Elijah was his best friend, his business partner, the guy he called first when something amazing or devastating happened, but this was not his strong suit. Elijah was basically a nun when it came to all things partying; he prided himself on never having more than two drinks when they went out, never sleeping around, and being married to the restaurant. Greyson loved Elijah, but he knew that the GM just wouldn’t get it.

So, the reprieve from being harassed about his near-constant menagerie of illnesses was a welcome one. He and Matt had prepped, passing a box of tissues between them the entire time, they’d gotten through a relatively slow service and, like every night the past few months, they’d ended the evening at a bar a few blocks from Elliot’s.

Greyson wanted to want to be there, truly he did, but he didn’t have it in him. Maybe it was the thought of being the only chef in the next day – Matt was well and truly coming down with the cold Greyson had come in with – or maybe it was just that the constant barrage of illnesses was starting to wear on his body, but the thought of staying awake for another minute, let alone another few hours, made Greyson’s head pound.

“I’m gonna call it,” Greyson said, shooting back his whiskey and placing a twenty on the bar top. “Take the day tomorrow, alright?”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “What about you?” he asked, coughing into the back of his hand. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Greyson said, elbowing Matt playfully. “I’ll call Shelly in, okay? I’ll take the day, too.” It was a lie; Shelly wasn’t ready for the responsibility of running a Friday night, not even a slow one, but if it made Matt take a day off, it was worth it to lie.

“Alright,” Matt said, wary. “Well, have a good night, Chef. Feel better.”

“Same to you,” Greyson said. “Tell Mark I said night-night. Give him a little kiss for me, too.”

Matt’s face turned bright red. By the time he’d collected himself enough to respond, his boss was gone.

***

“Greyson!”

Elijah stomped his way through the kitchen, on the hunt. He reached the back kitchen before Greyson could hear him, and the chef was blowing his nose into a rough paper towel looking caught, like a deer in the headlights.

“You fuckin’ asshole,” Elijah said, “why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“I’m not sick,” Greyson said, sniffling and tossing the paper towel. His eyes, Elijah noticed now, were rimmed red, and his voice was low and gravelly. “It’s allergies.”

“Right,” Elijah rolled his eyes. “Contagious allergies? Allergies you passed along to Matt? For Christ’s sake, Greyson, I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you lately, but you need to get it together. If Matt’s sick, that means Mark is going to get sick, then my entire front of house team gets it. What do you think you are, twenty-three years old? You can’t go out every single night and sleep around with anything that has a hole and also have an eighty-hour-a-week job. You’re not a kid, Greyson. This behavior? It’s childish. And I’m fuckin’ sick of it.”

Greyson stood there and took it, his mouth in a hard line. “Okay,” he said after a beat.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” he repeated. “You’re right. I’ll – hh! HhhIGSTZH-ue! Huh! HuhhESTCHZUE!” The chef sneezed painfully into his elbow, cleared his throat, and righted himself. “I’ll stop. It’s childish. Okay?” his voice was nasal, hoarse, and tight, as though he was on the verge of tears. All the fight Elijah had brought to the back kitchen was rung out of him like a washcloth at the end of a long bath.

“Um,” he said, “okay. Good. Now, go home. I’ll call in Shelly, I’m closing the books, it’ll be an easy night. Go rest so you can be good for the weekend.”

The chef just nodded, not making eye contact. “Heard,” he said, packing up his things. He didn’t beg to stay, didn’t insist that he was fine. He just picked up his bag, nodded at Elijah, and said, “See you tomorrow.”

Elijah was so in shock, he didn’t even respond until Greyson was out the door. “Yeah,” he mumbled, blinking. “See you tomorrow.”

***

The pulse of the music thumped in time with Greyson’s headache; it was oddly soothing, if a little disconcerting how in tune the two were.

“I’ll take andother,” he called to the bartender as loudly as he could muster. The bartender nodded, brought the bottle over, and topped him off, smiling seductively all the while.

“This one’s on the house, love,” he said in a faint British accent that Greyson couldn’t decide was real or fake. “What’s your name?”

“You’re very cute,” Greyson slurred, all levity out the window three drinks ago. “But I’mb sick as a dog, and I’mb ndot trying to pass it around any mbore than I already have.”

The bartender laughed. “This job is worse than a daycare when it comes to germs,” he said over the thrum of the crowd and the bass of the music. “Pretty sure I’m immune to just about everything at this point.”

Greyson let a sloppy smile paint his face. “Mbust be ndice,” he said, taking a swallow of his drink, then turning to his elbow to cough. “I work in a kitchend, it’s just about as bad but I haven’t seemed to gain any immu – immu...huh...hhINGTZHH-ue! HTSHH-ue! HRSHH-ue!” Greyson pulled his white tshirt over his nose and mouth and ducked almost completely under the bar to sneeze. He swore under his breath, sucked in through his nose, and sat himself upright once again. The bartender tutted in sympathy.

“Poor thing,” he said, smiling slyly. “You should be in bed.”

He wasn’t wrong; after Elijah’s blowup, Greyson had certainly thought about doing the right thing, going home, crawling into bed and actually attempting to get better. It had only been noon when he left the restaurant, and if he didn’t have to be in til noon the next day, that was almost a full twenty-four hours that he could spend doing nothing except relaxing, resting… being alone with his thoughts…

Yeah, that wasn’t about to happen.

Instead, Greyson had walked forty blocks to Greenwich and had lunch at one of his favorite spots. He’d moved on to a coffee shop from there, writing in his little black notebook recipes that he wanted to try out at Elliot’s. After that, he’d stopped into a CVS and bought them out of dayquil; three or four swigs later, and he was on his phone rapidly texting anyone he’d slept with in the past two months to see if they wanted to hang out. They did not.

The failed attempts at a hookup sent him into a darker place than he’d like to admit, so Greyson decided four pm was late enough to start drinking, and he took a cab back to midtown to begin his nightly spiral. The bar with the cute bartender was stop number four of the evening; at stop two, the dayquil had worn off. By stop three, he was coughing every time he took too deep of a breath. This was the stop where he’d given up the facade of health and just allowed himself to be the grossest person at the bar – much to everyone but this bartender’s chagrin.

“Yeah,” he said to the bartender, “you’re probably right.”

The bartender winked and turned back to the other bar patrons, leaving Greyson to sit foggy-headed and cold, alone with his whiskey. He looked at the clock on his phone – 11:45PM. The restaurant was probably empty by now. He wondered if Elijah was still there, finishing up paperwork; he thought about texting him, then remembered the blowup again. Greyson put his phone away, pulled a fifty out of his wallet, and ducked out of the bar.

It was cold outside; it was barely September, but Greyson could definitely feel that fall was in the air. He didn’t realize until now that he’d forgotten his jacket at work. Fuck.

Greyson shoved his hands into his pockets, shivering – there was no way he was going to make it back to his apartment without a jacket. The chef looked up at the street signs and realized he was only a block or two from the restaurant. Fuck it, he thought, sneezing into his exposed elbow. I’m getting that jacket.

***

It had been a long shift.

Shelly was great, really – she was just young, and a little bit scared of the enormity of running a restaurant. Elijah had figured that out at about seven pm, when she was nearly in tears with just six tickets on the board. But they had gotten through it, with Elijah taking over expo and Shelly running inside middle. It was fine. Long? Yes. But fine.

At eleven, the restaurant had emptied and with it went the servers, cooks, and junior managers. Elijah finished up his paperwork, locked the front door, set the alarm, and sat down at the empty bar with a glass of whiskey – just him, the thrum of the heater, and the restaurant.

When he was feeling really low, Elijah would spend hours like this; just sitting at his bar, looking out into the dining room, reeling in what he had created. This space was his, a place that he had spent his entire life clawing upwards for, despite the drone of older restaurateurs telling him he was too young, or too poor, or too talentless to own his own place. Elijah hadn’t grown up with money, or support, or any kind of nepotism that would have propelled him into this field, but he’d grown up with something most people hadn’t – drive. Passion. An absolute need to succeed, despite it all. Sometimes he needed to remind himself of that.

He knew that no one could really understand his reasons for being as anal as he was about everything in the restaurant – not even Greyson, though his counterpart came close. Often, Elijah felt like he spent his life explaining himself; explaining why he wasn’t married or even dating at thirty-nine, explaining why things had to be done a certain way so that appliances and tables and chairs and glassware and plates would last as long as humanly possible; explaining why people should care about his restaurant, his vision. Sometimes, Elijah wished he didn’t have this fire inside him. This passion for his work. He knew damn well his life would be easier if he didn’t.

Elijah looked at his phone as midnight approached, thinking about the day, thinking about Greyson. He wished things had gone down differently this morning, but he know Greyson could be like a kid when it came to arguments – quick to forgive, quick to forget. Sometimes that made Elijah feel even worse; he wished the other man would scream back at him, give in to his baser desires like Elijah was so wont to do when it came to arguing. Greyson saved those more carnal instincts for after work, Elijah supposed.

It would be worked out by tomorrow, whether Elijah wanted it to or not. He sighed, drained his glass, and went to turn off the lights behind the bar – when the alarm began blaring.

Elijah froze in his tracks. Who the fuck was breaking into the restaurant?

The GM burst through the doors to the kitchen and ran towards the back, absolutely nothing to defend him in his hands. If he was defending his restaurant, he was doing so with his bare hands; he’d figuratively clawed his way up to this position, he would certainly literally claw someone’s eyes out if they attempted to take it from him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Elijah heard someone at the back door before he saw them. He slowed his pace when he heard the voice. Greyson.

“Grey?” Elijah called, turning the corner and seeing the chef clumsily attempting to turn the alarm off. Greyson was wearing just a tshirt and jeans despite it being near-freezing outside, and the way he was fumbling with the alarm system meant he was almost certainly wasted. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Greyson turned to his boss and smiled, lopsided. He looked like shit; he was as pale as his shirt, his nose was bright red and running so much that he had taken to swiping a hand under it every few seconds, and Elijah could hear the wheeze in every breath he took. “Oh, thangk God,” he said, moving out of the way so Elijah could turn the alarm system off. “I thought if that back was opend, I could just sneak in. To grab mby jacket.” Greyson coughed away from Elijah, an angry, productive sound that made the GM flinch. “Sorry,” Greyson said. “It’s cold outside.”

“I’m well aware,” Elijah said, turning away from the now-silent alarm. “What are you doing out? You’re supposed to be at home. Getting better. Remember, I sent you home twelve hours ago? What have you been doing, out partying? You’re sick, Greyson.”

“I kndow, I kndow,” Greyson said, yanking the rubber band out of his hair and letting it fall wildly around his shoulders. “I just… I… hh… huh! HuhhhIGTSZHH-ue! HTSH! HRSHH-uh! Fuck – HNGSTHHZUE!” The sneezes wrenched themselves from him, rough and painful-sounding. Greyson stood, post-fit, and pushed his hair back with a hand. “Sorry,” he said, his voice wavering.

Elijah sighed; it was too late to fight. “C’mon,” he said, “let’s go sit for a bit. I can’t send you home like this.”

He led them both back to the bar and, despite his better judgment, poured them each a whiskey. Greyson coughed and took a swig of his before Elijah even sat down. “Thangks,” he said.

“Don’t mention it.” Elijah drank his whiskey slowly, trying to decide what to say to the chef. After a moment of silence so tense it could be sliced through with a butcher knife, both Elijah and Greyson attempted to start a conversation at the same time.

“Grey, I -”

“Lij, it’s-”

They both stopped, smiled at the absurdity, and Elijah motioned to the chef as if to say the floor is yours.

“Ndo, you go ahead,” Greyson said, sipping his drink. “Besides, I cand barely talk.”

Elijah couldn’t disagree with him there, so he let out one forced little laugh and then sighed. “Grey, I’m sorry. Really. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“Grey,” Elijah said finally, turning towards his friend, “what’s been going on, really? You’re… something is wrong. You’re not… you.”

Greyson shrugged. “I shouldn’t be bringing every disease kndown to mban into the restaurant, but here we are,” he said, coughing into his fist. Elijah laughed in earnest this time, and the two of them lapsed into silence once again.

Greyson pursed his lips, downed the rest of his drink, and cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said. “You’re right. I’mb ndot.” The chef sighed and turned his barstool towards Elijah. “It’s… it’s the whole Collin thing. It’s beend… a lot harder than I thought it would be. Getting over himb.” Greyson sniffled; Elijah was unsure if it was illness-related, or if the other man was crying. He was quickly given an answer when Greyson wrenched to the side – “HGTSHH-ue! Hh! HhhNGTSHZ-ue!” The chef wiped his nose on the back of his hand and cringed. “Sorry,” he said.

Elijah shook his head. “Dude,” he said, “you could’ve just told me you were taking it harder than you expected. You know I’m always here if you need to talk. I thought we were friends.”

“Lij, we are friends, but like… I don’t kndow. It’s weird talking to you about this shit because you don’t… I don’t kndow, fuck up. You take everything in stride, like it all rolls off your back. I’mb ndot like that. Plus, you literally ndever date - I’ve ndever kndown you to have a single girlfriend, let alonde break up with someone, and we’ve kndown each other for years.” Greyson pressed his hand into one of his eyes and groaned. “Fuck, I thingk I’mb getting andother fuckigg sindus infection,” he muttered. Elijah gave his friend a pointed look.

“The fact that you know off the top of you head exactly what that feels like definitely says something about these past few months,” he said, prompting a sharp laugh and the middle finger from Greyson. Elijah smiled. “You’re right,” he said, after a beat. “I don’t date. There was a girl, a long time ago – before I bought this place. I thought we were going to get married one day.”

Greyson’s eyebrows shot up, headache clearly forgotten. “Ndo way,” he said. “You’re shitting mbe. You? What was her name? Do I know her?”

Elijah laughed. “You don’t know her,” he said. “She was actually a chef, too, at this vegan brunch place in the Financial District. But she wanted kids, she wanted me to have a job where I could be home in the evenings…” Elijah shrugged, a fingernail digging into a groove in the bar top. “It just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Dude,” Greyson said, placing a hand on Elijah’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, man.”

Elijah shrugged again, and looked back up at Greyson. “It was a long time ago,” he said. “But I mean – I do get it. Heartbreak, that is. You can talk to me about anything, Greyson. And I’m not some let-it-roll-off-your-back, take-it-in-stride monolith, either.” He smiled, attempting to break the tension. “Obviously I get pissed all the time so just… talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. I want to help.”

The two of them sat in silence once again, neither really knowing the right thing to say next. Finally, Greyson’s body broke the tension: “HNGTSHH-ue! God, fuck,” the chef reached across the bar and attempted to blow his nose in a cocktail napkin – to no avail.

“Bless you,” Elijah said, and Greyson nodded.

“Thangks,” he said, slowly lowering his head to the bar top. “Fuck, I feel like such hot garbage. The going out every ndight thigg is definitely ndot for anyone over thirty.”

Elijah couldn’t help but cackle. “And you wonder why I have a two-drink-maximum hard line? I’d be dead on the floor if I drank like you and Matt. Welcome to old age, bud.”

“Yeah, you mbight be on to something there,” Greyson said, closing his eyes. “Definitely ndot gonna be hooking up with anyone under twenty-five anymbore, either. They’re all cesspools. HGTSHH-ue!”

“Bless,” Elijah said again. “Want me to drive you home?”

Greyson opened one red, watering eye. “In a mbinute,” he said. “I just ndeed to...rest mby eyes.”

Elijah pursed his lips to keep from laughing at the spectacle that was Greyson; mouth-breathing, whiskey-smelling, chest-crackling Greyson. Heartbreak didn’t look good on anyone, but on him it was especially rough. Within moments, the chef was snoring.

Elijah shook his head, stripped a table of its clean white cloth, and placed it over Greyson’s shoulders. Rest was rest, he figured. Elijah poured himself a rare third drink and sat next to his ailing friend.

“Sleep well, Chef,” he said, and took a long pull.

#whiskeyswriting #snz #sickfic #snzfic #coldfic #snzblr #snez #male cold #male snz #contagion #another long one gah sorry guys #if you made it this far i hope you liked it!!#& prompts are always open im always looking for inspiration #❤️❤️

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thatbanditqueen · 4 months

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Idk why but every time I hear Yayo by Lana Del Rey I think of Elvis and Midge. I love The Only Sure Thing! ❤️

Ah, yes, I see this, thank you for sharing , now I'm listening to this song. I feel like Lana's music and voice realky captures that desire too have a man take you away from your horrible poor humdrum life to something better. Midge's ongoing struggle is whether to give in fully and submit to this fantasy, and right noe she has sort of given herself up to being Elvis' girl. My favorite album is Ultraviolence, and her songs capture so well the bittersweet angst and pleasure of being in love with an imperfect man.

I am about 5k into what was initially an xmas '61 chapter of The Only Sure Thing. I think I'm going to extend it to New Year's Eve, and hopefully post it before Jan 1.

I'm always surprised and excited to read comments about this fic, I'm so woefully behind on what I want to write for Midge & Elvis. So thanks for the note, it really means a lot to me.

I hope you are enjoying the holidays and that Elvis' spirit is filling you up with light and love during these dark days.

xoxo

Norah

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis x oc #the only sure thing #bandit queen asks

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kerasines · 1 year

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VEGASPETE FIC RECS | SEASON 1

Thank you @kprecfest for making me finally start putting together all the vp rec lists I’ve been planning! (And also just in general, let me say it again, what a fantastic idea I love you.) There are so many amazing fics in this fandom, but let’s start with canon compliant fics set during season 1, including everything except the post-credits scene, which will be a separate list.

Package of a Person by @kat8porgs (E, 2.4k) Pete gets put in the vase's box for shipping to the safe house.

Drowning, and other Metaphors by lewdhandholding (E, 8k) Vegas has never experienced an afterglow that burns like an oil fire, a sudden and dangerous thing that he can’t quite remember how best to put out past the panic. It doesn’t help that Pete’s smile is like a torrent of cool water on his feverish skin, making the flames jump higher. It makes Vegas want to do something dangerous that he’s never really been good at before – it makes him want to take care of Pete. Problem is, he doesn’t really know how.

i want it all by devoutpete (E, 5k) “It’s too hot…” Pete repeated. He wanted to cry. This was taking too long. When their eyes met again, Vegas smiled. It was almost…sweet. “I told you already,” without warning, he poked the blade into Pete’s skin, red peeking from the puncture. “You’re hot because,” he carried on with a sudden, slow drag of the blade spanning a few inches, “It’s inside of you.” — Vegas was sick of Pete's inhibitions getting in the way, but he knew just how to fix that.

take me to your planet by @any-open-eye (E, 1.3k) Pete’s face is doing something. He thinks he might be smiling. He feels fucking high. What the hell is happening to him? He knows afterglow and this isn't it. If it was, he'd be way more into sex. There were people in high school and then one long-term girlfriend a few years ago, but she never—it was nothing like this. This is like… that blissful moment between sleeping and waking when you're conscious of your body but not yet of your mind. Just a vessel of receptors and processes. Electrified meat. “That was good, right?” Vegas's hands are on him. “Tell me it was good.”

(more under the cut, it got a bit... long)

Sharing Different Heartbeats by @raelle-writing (E, 58k) Of course Vegas noticed Pete. But not with much weight. Sure, Pete was hot. But so were all of the rest of Kinn’s bodyguards. That wasn’t notable. It wasn’t worth more than a passing once-over, or an absent glance at the man’s ass in those suits they insisted on wearing. He had a nice ass, but it didn’t stick in Vegas’ mind. It was passing lust, nothing more. And he certainly wasn’t hotter than the other bodyguards– not Porsche, for example. The only thing notable about Pete was that he had a surprisingly soft, cute face, and a sunny, disarming smile. He looked far too soft for his job. But he was Tankhun’s head bodyguard, and one of the men that Kinn often tapped for important missions. Which meant that the cute, soft face was hiding real talent and skill. So yes, Vegas noticed Pete. But it didn’t mean anything. — Or: a retelling of the story from Vegas' POV, from first impressions until after the hospital.

How Deep it Goes by @giraffeter (E, 4k) It’s only been a couple of days but Vegas is already coming to crave the way Pete looks at him when he enters the room, the alertness that enters his body, the wary skitter of his eyes to Vegas’ face. “I want to watch a show,” Vegas says. He sets the tote bag he’s carrying down on the bed. Pete stares at it. “And you’re going to put one on for me.” — Vegas decides to bring some toys for his new pet to play with.

write somewhere deep. by @evashougouki (M, 2k) “All clean,” Vegas says, like Pete doesn’t know what he’s planning. “Am I?” Pete asks, though he’s unsure why he says it, why he pokes. Vegas is silent for a second, silent enough that Pete can hear his breath hitch. His laugh has an air of breathlessness to it then. “You’re such a fascinating creature.” Lips come to lay up against the side of his neck, just resting. Or lingering, maybe. Pete shivers but does not have the energy to fight it. Slippery hands slide between his thighs, pushing stinging soap into the still too-raw burns there. The shock of it is rapturous. — Vegas washes Pete in the safehouse.

ain't nobody trying to save you by @incendir (M, 1.9k) Vegas is splitting Pete open on three fingers when Pete gets the idea. Or, some additional details on KPTS 1x12.

A Close Shave by @fleet-off (M, 4k) The bathroom walls feel claustrophobically tight, and Vegas’s stomach is a ball of leaden frustration poised to turn molten. He wants to shatter the mirror with his fist, to yell at Pete to stand up straight, to curse his uselessness--just another one of Vegas’s failures. The razor sits on the edge of the sink. This was a bad idea. — Vegas gives Pete a shave.

Dare to be Bad by @raelle-writing (E, 7k) “I think you want a reason to have to hide your skin, don’t you, Pete?” Vegas drawled, and Pete made a sudden, surprised, unmistakably aroused noise as Vegas shoved a knee between Pete’s thighs, pressing suddenly, threateningly against his groin. Pete couldn’t stop his breaths from coming a little faster, heart racing, cock already responding in his pants, even as he tried not to let it. Fuck, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this turned on. Vegas’ lips curled up in another lazy smirk, dark gaze still locked on Pete’s face. “Aren’t you tired of playing the perfect little bodyguard, Pete?” he murmured, voice low and sultry. “Don’t you want to be bad for me?” — After failing to mark Porsche at the auction, Vegas runs into Pete and decides to blow off some steam.

An Interlude in the Space Between Light and Shadow by lewdhandholding (M, 3k) One of Kinn’s guards is a step ahead of Vegas’s attempt to flee the diamond auction venue, so Vegas decides to indulge his anger and frustration for a moment. After all, Pete makes such a perfect little chew toy. It might make Vegas feel a little better if he can get him to squeak.

splinter by @lu-sn (M, 2.8k) Pete has managed to lie to Khun — and Kinn, and Porsche — about where he's been. He knows without a shred of doubt that he will not be able to lie like that to Chan.

past the last exit by jumun (M, 1.6k) Pete thinks about Vegas’ face, wonders what Vegas would have done if he’d brought the knife just an inch higher, wonder what would've happened if he hadn’t goaded him. He knows he did it intentionally, because being able to push and prod at someone isn’t something he’s indulged in in years, because it's difficult to talk about that with someone much less have a mutual understanding. Pete did not have a mutual understanding with Vegas.

stay with me a minute (swear i'll make it worth it) by @incendir (M, 2.3k) Pete hadn’t anticipated how much breathing would hurt. Or, an unseen moment in 1x13.

cleans up nice by Lirelyn (T, 2.1k) Vegas likes his pets clean, so Pete gets a shower and a shave. It's fine. Nothing Pete can't handle.

when he comes by Anonymous (E, 3k) “Hm,” again. Vegas has stopped twisting, but he hasn’t let go, still tugging idly, crouched over Pete like a predatory bird. The pain is cold and strange and Pete thinks his dick might be leaking. “I want to eat you,” Vegas says absently. “Cut you open and eat you. How did that feel?”

cut me open and tell me what's inside by @wegathpete (E, 3k) In retrospect, Pete will find it funny. A self-proclaimed man of honesty, yet so unwilling to look deep within himself, afraid of what he might find beneath the carefully crafted and polished surface. Keeping so much of himself locked away, behind bars, like a condemned prisoner, a chained up, feral animal, unworthy of being seen by the world. Is he hiding from himself or everyone else? Would the world like him for who he is or hate him for who he isn’t?

like a trigger (get me ready to shoot) by @veliseraptor (M, 6k) sadism: psychosexual disorder in which sexual urges are gratified by the infliction of pain on another person. (Encyclopaedia Britannica) — As far as Vegas can tell, there are normal people who want normal things, and then there's whatever he's got going on.

First Impressions to Love Expressions (Ch. 12) by @iffervescent (E, 6k) “Don’t try to hide it,” Vegas murmurs, in the voice that has started doing weird things to Pete’s insides. “I know you’re suffering. Let it out.” Pete wants to hit him, wants to scream, wants to yank these stupid chains down from the ceiling and set fire to this house and wants to kneel at Vegas’ feet and beg him to whip him again. And – fuck – he wants Vegas to cook for him some more. And to sit in the garden together, for a nice reason this time. And to tease him about having stupid books. And to feed him another pill with his breath warm on Pete’s mouth and all that tightly-leashed strength hovering above him and make Pete hard because of another person for the first time in his life.

while I do my thing in the background by @judiwench (G, 2k) "I have a gift for you. This is Pete."

#vegaspete #kinnporsche #kpts #vegaspete fic rec #kp fic #kprecfest #*#*kp #*rec

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stereopticons · 5 months

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Fic Writing Review 2023

Thanks for the tag @hippolotamus!

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.

Words and Fics

53,271 words published to ao3

an estimated 31,700 unpublished words in WIPs written this year

2 published fandoms (Schitt's Creek and RWRB) and one unpublished (911)

Most recent drop: currently two advent drabble collections: ribbons and bows (SC) and my only wish is one more year (and then i want them all) (RWRB)

Longest (published) fic: we were loud like love (david/patrick, E, 5.1k) (it was a rough year)

Caveat to that is that indie band patrick is currently ~26k and unpublished, all of that was written this year

Top Fics by Kudos

never knew a home until i found your hands (alex/henry, E, 1k)

paint me up (you're my favorite color) (david/patrick, E, 2.5k)

in the long tresses of your hair (i am a babbling brook) (david/patrick, T, 1.3k)

let my love fix you up (david/patrick, T, 1.7k)

tangle and stretch (david/patrick, T, 3.3k)

My fandom fic events in 2023

Raisins in Zhampagne New Years Exchange: the world would make sense again (if i held your hand) (twylexis, T, 2.7k)

Schitt's Creek Rare Fest: your secret's safe with me (stevie/ruth, M, 3.1k)

World BDSM Day Writing Challenge (yes, I'm counting events I made up): catch my breath to breathe your name (david/patrick, E, 300)

Schitt's Creek Passions and Pastimes Fest: crossed words and open hearts (david/patrick, E, 2.6k) and parallax (collab with @indestructibleheart, david/patrick, T, 5k)

Smutsgiving part one and part two

+1-2 fics for Schitt's Creek Frozen Over

Upcoming Events and Projects for 2024

to finish and publish:

certain songs (aka, indie band patrick): David, owner of the recently re-opened Perennial gallery in New York gets dragged by Stevie to a show where the indie band the Creek Waders are performing. He crosses paths with the frontman and guitarist, Patrick, and finds himself intrigued. Mutual pining, David being an idiot, discussions about queer art, Stevie ex machina, etc etc.

gather up the avenues: David and Patrick dated while in New York but broke up, now neither of them can stand to be in the city because of all the memories. Patrick drives back home to Canada, but ends up stopping in a small town with a ridiculous sign, while David flees to the place with the stupid name his dad bought him for his birthday when he was a kid. I think you can see where this is going.

come on, get higher, loosen my lips: five times alex and henry talk on the phone and one time they wake up together (workshopping this description lol). Actually hoping to finish and publish this in 2023 but we'll see how it goes.

I have a lot of other projects I'd like to finish but I'm not going to list them all here. We'll see how this year goes. I also love an event (clearly) so plan to participate in some of those as they come up (hopefully for both SC and RWRB).

Tagging @indestructibleheart @blackandwhiteandrose @kiwiana-writes @rosedavid @mostlyinthemorning @apothecarose @lizzie-bennetdarcy @smblmn @myheartalivewrites @missgeevious

#fic review 2023

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suzyq31 · 6 months

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A note to fellow Harmony readers/writers

Hello everyone,

I feel the need to say something about recent events. A post on the Harmony subreddit has given a platform for people to air their grievances about a particular story. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen this happen and have been on the receiving end. And it really sucked. I’ve let myself believe that is part of being in this fandom, having your work ripped apart publicly and regularly.

I would like to ask the moderators of these spaces to please consider changing their stance on this. Adding in a rule that prevents posts like the one mentioned, among others. Again, this really isn’t meant to cast blame on any particular person. There was a comment about how writers need to stop acting like their god's gift to writing or the fandom, and to simply get over negative criticism. I want to clarify I don’t think that I’m special, or that my voice matters because I happen to write fanfic.

I’m no god, but I am a human. One who is dealing with their own pain as best they can. There are real problems that are much larger than fandom. Which makes it all the more difficult when I do choose to escape the horrors, only to find more negativity. I don’t expect the internet to always be a ‘safe space', but I do think fandom spaces can be more focused on positivity.

All of this has made me reevaluate my own role within fandom. I’m giving myself time and grace to make a final decision on how I want to move forward. In the meantime I would encourage anyone who cares about the fandom community to please reach out to the team at HMS Harmony (with kindness, they are also humans with feelings and lives.) If you feel inclined you could ask them to consider adding some caveats on how fics are discussed on public spaces such as Reddit and discord.

On another note, I myself haven’t always been as kind as I would have liked. If I’ve ever said something that’s upset anyone, I’m sorry. I regret some of the ways I’ve shown up in fandom over the years. I’m personally working on my own anger that I wrestle with, in real life and on the internet. Overall I would love to see if we could all think more carefully in how we discuss things, especially people’s creative work.

If you are a reader, there are so many positive ways you can contribute. The number one way is to reach out to those authors whose work you adore, especially those who don’t receive many comments. Tell them what you love about how they write Harry and Hermione, let them know their work matters to you. I promise it will make their day and encourage them to keep going. When you participate in fandom, focus on discussing the stories that make you go hell yes! Make fandom friends, who you can privately talk more in depth about works or what doesn’t work for you in a fanfic. Discord can feel private! But when you have over 5k members it isn’t and discussions that veer into complaining about an author’s choices it can start to come across as a pile up. I know hearing about how my own stories are discussed has left me discouraged.

To quote Albus Dumbledore-"Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both inflicting injury, and remedying it.” There is collective power in how we engage. I’ve personally adored this pairing since I was a young child. To this day I still remember some of the storylines that I would play over and over in my head. I took solace in the magical world when I was bullied and I spent my lunch hours hiding in the library with my copy of PoA. As an adult I’ve turned to writing fanfic while trying to manage grief and the overwhelm of figuring out this next stage of my life. What has stayed consistent is my love of these characters.

It took me 22 years to start writing down my ideas, and I’ve found a lot of joy in doing so. I know many other writers have to. There really is nothing like getting a story out of your head and onto the page, even better? Getting to share it with others who love those characters too. We should think of ourselves as lucky that there are so many different stories out there to choose from. And that so many people choose to share their creativity with the world. I truly think we have more in common than we may realize, readers/writers/moderators etc.

I’ll leave you with this poem, because I find poetry always expresses things better than I can.

All the best,

Suzy.

#harry potter fanfic #harry/hermione #harry x hermione #harmonie #harmony #fanfic writing #fandom #harry potter

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lavender-lotion · 14 hours

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

How many works do you have on ao3?

868, which is bonkers???

What's your total ao3 word count?

2,445,126 words! I'm aiming for 5mil within the next decade haha

What fandoms do you write for?

CURRENTLY I am (only) writing teen wolf fic! it's so strange to be back where I started, but it's also been really nice coming back to all these familiar characters

Top five fics by kudos:

1. (baby) maybe that matters more - Steter, 40k

2. The Perceptions of You and I - Seter, 5k

3. With You, I Belong - Stalion, 59k

4. Mates and Marriage Proposals - Steter, 15k

5. Breathing You In - Steter, 29k

... should I just call myself a steter writer at this point?

Do you respond to comments?

yes!! all the time. literally nothing brings me as much joy as comments do

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I reaaaaally don't write a lot of angst, but one of the unhappiest fics I've ever written is probably this one?

And Now? - Stetopher, 300 words

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

there actually isn't one fic I would say that fits this? I primarily write schmoop, so a lot of my fic would count as having very happy endings! p

Do you get hate on fics?

oooooooh yeah babes. I've gotten some mean comments lol

Do you write smut?

yes! not a favourite thing of mine, but I do write it here and there. I recently wrote a fic w/ smut that I really really liked it!

keep me warm in the cradle of your skin - Sterekira, 7k

Craziest crossover:

ooooh this is actually SUCH an easy answer for me! it's 100% this one teen wolf/x-men cross over (possibly my only one?) where Logan (wolverine) knew the sheriff from the way when they'd been lovers and he goes to find him, and stiles is a lil jean grey esque character. I think about this thing allllll the time, too. I freaking love it.

what-ifs (don’t fuckin’ matter to no one) - Logan (X-Men)/Sheriff Stilinski, 2k

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I have actually! I only know of one for sure, and it was a stackson fic that someone had reposted to ao3? im so glad I found it (I think someone sent it to me?) and I was able to report it and get it taken down!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! I love it, it's such a crazy labour of love. if you wanna translate my work, just send me a link so I can see it!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

me & @flightinflame co-wrote an almando series where we wrote the same fic from different pov's which was a suuuuuper super fun experience! I've started a few other co-writes, but unfortunately they've never taken off and gone anywhere :(

there's nothing i wouldn't do to make you feel my love - Almando, 27k

All time favourite ship?

nope. nope nope nope I don't knowwwwwww

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

oh!! this is marked completed on ao3 now because honestly, I'm never going to finish it, but I love love love the premise of this one and I always wished I had finished it

Love Thy Family - Stilinskicest, 12k

What are your writing strengths?

this is soooo tricky lol I hate talking about myself. I would say probably dialogue! I also really like how I write romance, specifically getting together works, and I think I do a good job at nailing down the feelings that go along with them!

What are your writing weaknesses?

settings. actions. plot. I hate plot!

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I used to use a looooot more than I do now, and I would use google translate. it's never GREAT, so I mostly avoid it now. I'll translate like, a single sentence every now and again, but I don't do a lot with it anymore.

as for how I feel about it as a reader - as long as I can figure out what's going on from context clues, I really don't mind it!

First fandom you wrote in?

Percy Jackson & the Olympians!

To Long For Lust - Percico, 3k

Favorite fic you've written?

this is sooooo hard and so unfair and so difficultimpossiblehorrible to answer. if I had to pick one, gun to my head, it would currently be poly fic. it's the longest, plotiest, most developed thing I've ever written, and if nothing else, it's shown me that I can write things I've never imagined being able to write! once im done act 4, I wanna print it out lol

lift our faces, together, towards the glistening - Stisaackson, 159k

@lucky-bishop @mirrorthoughts @thotpuppy @like-lazarus @rosieposiepuddingnpie @kordyceps @whimsicalmeerkat

#lavenderlotion #my writing

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zealouswerewolfcollector · 14 days

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

@sallysavestheday and @grey-gazania, thank you so much for tagging me! This seems like fun.

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 55 non-anon works under the username HewerOfCaves. (122, counting anon fics and my previous usernames).

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 168.204, but if I count my previous lives on Ao3, probably around 400.000

3. What fandoms do you write for? Silmarillion. I'm an one fandom kind of writer.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Idea Dump - 20-chapter collection of random ficlets and drabbles

For the World's End - My very first fic in the fandom! Post-canon Maedhros angst

We Live a Lie - A slightly disturbing ficlet about Fëanor in Arda Unmarred

A King Uncrowned (A King Enthroned) - Maedhros and Fingolfin on the day of Fingolfin's coronation

Ages of Secrets - Russingon and the people who knew their secret through the ages. Tbh, I'm still baffled that this is among my more popular fics.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I can't rest easy until I've responded to all my comments.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Heh, I thrive on angst, so this is a very hard question. I can't choose just one. It's a tie between Monomachy (Maedhros and Fingon cross paths during the Third Kinslaying), Happy Ending (Maedhros daydreaming, it's just... bleak) and Alone in the Unknown (Maglor reaches his breaking point, Maedhros reached his a long time ago; this entire series is angsty, but this part is the angstiest of all).

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I went looking and was surprised to discover that I've written fewer happy endings than I thought :D But I still have some!

Peculiar Spiritual Connection - QP Russingon and their happy, carefree post-canon ending with just a smidgen of angst.

Greetings Without Farewells - Teenage Maedhros and Maglor, kid Celegorm and Fingon are happy in the bliss of Valinor.

What's in a Name - Debatable because the protagonist, Turgon, is decidedly not happy, but everyone else is, so...

8. Do you get hate on fics? Hasn't happened yet, thankfully. I hope it never will.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I actually started writing smut and am actively trying not to be embarrassed about it. As to what kind... What kinds are there? :D So far, I've written two kinds - wouldn't this be fucked up and wouldn't this be hot. Here's what I have:

Proxy - Maedhros/Fingon, unrequited Maedhros/Maglor. Wouldn't this be fucked up kind of fic. All characters are definitely fucked up.

The Hunters - Maedhros/Aredhel and they are both women. Wouldn't this be hot kind of fic. It would.

Kaleidoscope - Fingon/Sons of Feanor, M-rated but still fucked up.

Purification - Maedhros/Thingol. Actually, I think this is both wouldn't it be fucked up and wouldn't it be hot.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? My only attempt at writing a crossover crashed and burned. It was supposed to be SPN/Silm :/

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I hope not! I'm not aware of it at least.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! Very nice people have translated some of my fics into Chinese and Russian.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Once, in a different fandom. It was a reincarnation AU, and me and the other author took turns writing each life of the characters. It was very fun.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? It's Russingon. No contest. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Every WIP is a WIP I want to finish but doubt I ever will. If seriously, it's probably my Maedhros on the Thangorodrim fic. I started it about five years ago and haven't finished it yet. And it's not a long fic! If I finish it, it'll be 5k at most, I think. I don't know, I'm just over Maedhros suffering. I want him to be happy. That's a lie, but I just can't deal with the whole Thangorodim torture.

16. What are your writing strengths? Dialogue. Twist endings. Breaking people's hearts.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Descriptions. Beautiful comparisons and metaphors. Also, I have a very narrow focus, meaning that there is only one fandom, one ship and very few characters I write for. I rarely diversify.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic. Not a fan. A few words are fine, but entire lines are too much for me.

19. First fandom you wrote for? I shan't say.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? It changes all the time. Right now, I'm fond of To Evil End. Fingon lives, but will it change everything for the better? The answer may surprise you but probably won't.

Tagging @eccentricmya, @runawaymun, @echo-bleu, @searchingforserendipity25, @undercat-overdog

#tag game #writing #zwc fic

9 notes · View notes

crinkled-emotions · 3 months

Text

Day 28: Daggers in Australia

Back in the groove! I think this fic ended up being somewhere around the 5k mark whilst the others have been mostly 1-2k max. I honestly thought about writing more but rather than making it seem overfull I hit a point and I was like yep, we're done, that's fine there.

“Someone hold my hand when we cross the road, I’m not awake enough for this.”

“Payback, hold your wizzo’s hand.”

“Fuck you, Rooster.”

Rooster dodged when Payback went to swat at the back of his head, pulling his suitcase along with him as the pair fucked around. Fanboy groaned, turning to rest his head on Bob’s shoulder.

“You’re gonna keep me safe, right Bob?”

“A little busy right now, Mick.”

Bob, wrestling both his luggage and Phoenix’s while she went to the bathroom, did indeed look busy. Maverick was already on the phone organising pick up from the airport, talking quietly as people rushed around him. Coyote had decided to sit on a bench nearby and was texting his mom, letting her know they’d landed in Perth. Everyone was sluggish, feeling the jetlag from their thirty hours of flying including their layovers in LAX and Sydney. The only one with enough energy to keep them going had to be Hangman, of course, bouncing on his feet in a way that told Coyote he’d maybe had a taste of Aussie coffee on the plane. When his incessant talking made even Coyote doubt his friendship he reached out, grabbing Hangman by the wrist.

“Sit down and shut up a sec, you’re asking Rooster to punch you again.”

“He missed last time,” Hangman rebutted but he did indeed sit down and shut up aside from his foot tapping on the lino floors of the Perth airport’s international arrival terminal.

It was barely 3am and everyone was on their last legs, yawning and using each other to stay up. Even Maverick himself was struggling with the time changes which told everyone to be on their (mostly) best behaviour.

The conference with the Australian Navy was being held on the Perth base for some reason instead of Sydney; apparently it was their turn to host something and no one had really had a problem with it except for the fact that it meant an additional layover and six hours of flying for the Daggers who’d been flown in especially for a panel at the conference. Initially it had only been those who flew the mission who were invited but in the end it had been agreed that Coyote would also be attending to provide additional perspective on the training.

“Mav, I’m starving. Can we get food on the way to the hotel?” Rooster complained. Maverick, still on the phone, held up a finger to tell him to wait.

“No, that’s not what I said... okay, well, that would be- yes sir, that would be great. Thank you very much. I apologise for the early start.”

With his phone call over Maverick turned to the Daggers, including Phoenix who had returned from the bathroom and taken her luggage from Bob.

“Okay, everyone go and see if you can get an uber or a taxi. Your hotel rooms are all under your own names; check in and get a couple hours sleep. We’re going to meet tomorrow morning-“

Maverick paused, checked his watch, and grimaced.

“-later today around 0800 hours, and a representative from the Australian Navy has offered to take us on a tour of Perth. I expect that you’ll all be on time and ready for anything they set up for us on this tour. The conference starts in two days; today and the following day is all about building our relationships with our Australian colleagues so best behaviour, guys.”

“Yes sir,” the team all echoed. They all headed for the exit, immediately grimacing.

“How is it warm at three am?” Phoenix complained, already reaching to take off her jacket.

“Australia is notorious for their hot summers,” Bob supplied, “well; that’s what it said on the brochure in Sydney.”

A couple hours later the Daggers gathered out the front of their hotel, all of them battling jetlag like pros. The Navy representative greeted them easily, gesturing to the minibus behind him.

“Good morning everyone! My name is Jim Dempsey, everyone calls me JD and I’m going to be your Navy representative whilst you’re here in Perth. Today we’re going to be visiting some of the more common tourist attractions; I thought you might like to see the beaches, and then we’re going to-“

“-JD, I’m so sorry to ask, would it be possible to have our first stop be a coffee shop?” Rooster asked. JD laughed.

“I think that sounds reasonable. Alright everyone, let’s get a move on!” The Daggers started toward the minibus, climbing in and finding a seat. As Phoenix sat down she nudged Bob, leaning in to whisper to him.

“He’s way too happy for this time of day,” she muttered. Bob snorted.

“It’s the coffee here; apparently it’s supercharged.”

“This is going to end badly,” Phoenix sighed. Bob nudged her side.

“It’ll be so much better when you’ve had caffeine. C’mon, brighten up; when was the last time you went to Australia?”

“Never, actually,” Phoenix confessed, “you?”

“No. Fanboy said he and Payback got sent here a few years ago but it was in a remote location. They had to stand on a hill to get cell reception and Fanboy got heat exhaustion.”

“Sounds rough; explains why he’s clinging to his water.”

Their eyes fell to the large water bottle in a side pocket of Fanboy’s backpack, both wondering if they should have brought their own. They watched when Rooster hit his head on the roof of the minibus and stifled their laughter, instead choosing to take a couple photos of the scrub around the hotel. With everyone buckled in, the minibus started up and JD headed toward what he called bragged was of the best coffee shops around.

“Now, prepare yourselves, and go easy on the caffeine; speaking from experience, our coffee is the best in the world but it’s also strong so you will be shitting through the eye of a needle at twenty paces if you’re not careful.”

JD was quick to warn the Daggers as they stepped into the cute coffee shop, pausing to take a look at the menu. They all slowly looked to him in confusion but he waved them off.

“Our coffee is high in caffeine, so it gives you the shits. You’ve been warned.”

“I just want a coffee,” Hangman said after a moment of staring blankly, “damn coffee shops make this so difficult.”

“Try a flat white,” JD suggested. Hangman glanced at him, then shrugged and went up to order. Phoenix mused at the menu for a moment. It was too hot to be drinking hot coffee like Hangman had just ordered... iced latte it was.

Once everyone had placed their orders and paid they stood back to wait, glancing around.

“Where are you from?” Rooster asked JD, who hummed.

“I was born in Queensland, but I’ve been in Perth almost twenty years. It’s a great place to be; no one really thinks to come here so we mostly get our beaches to ourselves.”

“What ones would you recommend- holy shit that’s good.”

Hangman had joined the pair, takeaway coffee cup in hand as he took his first sip. He offered his cup to Rooster who shook his head.

“I’m not getting cooties, mine’s coming.”

“To answer your question, a lot of the guys go surfing at Scarborough but most people flock to Cottesloe on our hot days.”

“Hey, man, while I’ve got you-“

Rooster’s name was called and he split from JD and Hangman to grab his coffee. JD patted Hangman’s shoulder then went to see where they were at in regards to coffee collection. Maverick stood by Hangman, smiling at the way his eyes lit up the more he sipped at his coffee.

“Just remember what JD said; we’re moving around a lot today so don’t do something dumb.”

“Me? Dumb? I’m good, Mav, in fact I’m too good to-“

“-be true,” the rest of the Daggers filled in nearby, earning laughter. A woman approached Hangman suddenly, holding out a piece of paper and a pen.

“I’m so sorry to ask, but are you that guy from that movie?”

“Uh...? No?”

“Oh, damn, that’s... embarrassing. Sorry!”

She disappeared out the door and Hangman frowned as he looked to the others.

“What was she sniffing?”

With everyone happily caffeinated, JD loaded them back into the van and they drove through the picturesque scenery of the Perth suburbs sipping on their coffee and taking photos through the windows. For a group of seasoned aviators they were definitely feeling the coffee hit, talking a million miles an hour. JD glanced over at Maverick who cleared his throat.

“They’ll settle; where are we headed?”

“I thought we could do Fremantle Prison first, and then depending on energy levels and the coffee crash we could either relax and see a movie or head to the beach for the arvo.”

“I’m sorry; arvo?”

Fanboy interrupted the conversation, apparently listening to all the conversations in the bus. JD smiled at him in the rearview mirror.

“Afternoon.”

“Gotcha.”

“After the prison we might do smoko-“

“-smoko?”

Rooster, this time. Apparently all the Daggers had become eavesdroppers.

“Take a break; shearers use to have smoke breaks so they’d call it morning and afternoon smoko.”

JD filled in the blanks, already questioning his own lingo.

“I totally forgot to ask this earlier when I heard it in the airport; what the fuck is a gobby-“

“-and look at that, we’re here!”

JD pulled the van into a parking space at the prison, glancing over his shoulder.

“Before we go in, I do just ask that you’re respectful to both the staff and the culture. I can tell you more later but if you’re not sure about something please make sure you ask me.”

“Of course,” Phoenix reassured. A glance to Bob beside her found him dozing, hat over his eyes.

“Hey, Mav, we’ve got a man down.”

“I’ll wake him, you guys go.”

The Fremantle Prison had a long (complicated) history in Australian culture, and the Daggers were quiet as they took it in. It originally opened in the 19th century, and when it closed in 1991 it was a welcomed announcement by the general public due to concerns for prisoner welfare and the state of the facilities. At one point Rooster separated from the group to read a plaque about the last execution on site and Maverick appeared by his side, a hand on his shoulder.

“How are you feeling about the panel?” He murmured. Rooster shrugged.

“The more I talk about it the less I feel like I’m gonna hurl.”

“I know. If you need a break just ask, okay?”

“Mav. I’m fine.”

Rooster sent him a reassuring smile, turning back to the information he’d been reading. Phoenix joined him when Maverick left his side, nudging his side.

“Hey.”

“Hi, Tash.”

“This place... wow.”

“Haunting,” Rooster mused. Phoenix glanced around.

“Apparently they do night tours as well; think we can make Bagman scream?”

Rooster raised an eyebrow, then smirked; Phoenix rolled her eyes.

“Ew, Brooster. Ugh, you’re the worst.”

“I really think that one’s on you!” Rooster called as she left him to go and stand with Bob.

“Do you think that’s him?”

Rooster glanced over his shoulder, trying to figure out where the younger female voice came from considering it wasn’t Phoenix and she was the only female in their group. He frowned, then put it down to the eerie nature of the prison. It was probably playing with his head.

“How are we feeling? We could have a counter-y or we could head to Cottesloe-“

“-a counter-y...?”

JD winced.

“Sorry. Uh, we could go have a sit down meal at the pub or we could head out to Cottesloe beach.”

Maverick checked his watch, then shrugged.

“Everyone okay if we go have something to eat?”

The group agreed easily, Hangman jogging up to catch up with Bob.

“Hey, did you have the coffee? That was seriously strong, like crack but also a little like maybe I should have slept more, and did you smell the air- and the vegemite toast this morning was disgusting-“

“-what is wrong with you?”

The pub JD picked had a strong scent of stale beer the second you walked in and the TAB room to the left was loud enough that even if there was music playing over the speakers you wouldn’t have been able to hear it. The Daggers and JD found a table toward the back of the dining room, picking up their menus.

“What would you recommend, JD?” Payback asked.

“No more coffee for Jake,” JD deadpanned earning laughter from the others, “but anything here is great. The parmy has just the right amount of ham and sauce to cheese ratio and the fish is always fresh.”

“I’m so lost,” Bob muttered as he stared at the menu. A waitress appeared to get their drinks orders then they poured water to get themselves started, the Daggers taking in the room.

“Is that a pool table?” Phoenix asked. She immediately realised her mistake when Coyote and Hangman stood.

“We’ll be back.”

There were already a couple locals playing, but it appeared the two Daggers were welcomed into the group easily to everyone’s surprise. The waitress came by again to take food orders then while they waited the group fell into easy conversation about the Australian culture and the upcoming panel the Daggers would be attending. It was highly classified so they kept it general, talking around it rather than about it. Maverick leaned back in his chair and he was the first to spot the food coming out, his eyebrows raising.

“That is huge,” he said in regards to the steak placed in front of Bob, then turning to the seafood Rooster had ordered.

“And that- there’s so much.”

“I feel a nap in my near future,” Rooster grinned. Maverick smiled at him, taking a prawn when it was offered.

“Is this where that saying about a shrimp on the barbie comes from?” Payback asked JD, who shook his head.

“Not really, we might do that your last night here. Most Aussies actually prefer yabbies; a type of... I dunno, it’s kinda like a prawn or a lobster but oversized. You find ‘em a lot in freshwater dams on the farms but there’s plenty of yabby farmers around here that keep up the supply.”

“What the fuck is a yabby-“

“-hey, food!”

Coyote and Hangman returned from the pool table when Bob waved them over, eagerly eyeing their meals.

“I feel like this is going to ruin everything I’ve ever worked for,” Hangman said as he reached for his silverware. The others laughed.

“We’re going to swim it off, remember? It’s about half an hour to Cottesloe so you’ll be good to get straight in the water when we get there.”

“That’s alright then.”

The Daggers stripped off to their swimwear on the sand, tossing various articles of clothing at Maverick and slathering on sunblock. Right before they took off JD waved to get their attention.

“Swim where everyone else is and keep an eye out for sharks.”

“He’s joking, right?” Coyote whispered to Payback, who snorted.

“Yeah; it’s a public beach, there’s no way sharks would-“

“-unfortunately I’m not joking mate, we get a few shark attacks every summer. We’re in their territory and if they feel threatened they’ll defend.”

The Daggers were suddenly a little slower to head for the water. Maverick laughed, turning to JD.

“That should settle them... oh. You weren’t joking.”

“Nope.”

Out in the water, Phoenix was lying on her back and enjoying the cool water whilst the others horsed around a little further out. She felt something brush her foot and gave it a gentle kick, taking a deep breath to refocus when there was another touch against her ankle. Next thing she knew there was a sharp tug and she screamed, thinking about the seven most deadly animals in Australia and how most of them were in the ocean. When she came up for air Payback and Fanboy were coming up too and laughing, high fiving. Phoenix scowled.

“Sleep with one eye open, assholes,” she warned. The pair exchanged a look then swam off to join where Bob and Coyote were wading and talking. Rooster was talking to a local and Phoenix didn’t have the heart to tell him he resembled a drowned rat with his damp curls rather than his usual attractive (dry) face. When she realised she couldn’t see Hangman she glanced around, finding him on the shore. There was a group of women surrounding him and he was loving it, as per usual, but she could tell he was utterly confused. She decided to join him on the shore (cockblock him within an inch of his life and then a little more for good measure), nudging his side.

“Hey, Bagman, what’s going on?”

“He’s the guy from that movie!” One of the onlookers exclaimed, Phoenix snorting.

“No, he’s US Navy and as much as he’s loving this he’s not who you’re looking for.”

The women all blushed and scattered across the beach back to wherever they were supposed to be, Phoenix wheeling around to face Hangman.

“What the hell was that?”

“I have no idea.”

That evening the team had an early dinner and thanked JD for his tour. The team knew they shouldn’t go to bed considering it was only 7pm so they decided to go see a movie nearby. A local cinema was playing a new one so they headed into the city, bought tickets and went into the theatre. They’d picked a movie at random and hadn’t even looked at trailers; the only rule was Rooster was banned from picking movies because he’d chosen Oppenheimer last time and it had sparked a Barbenheimer debate on base. Settling into their seats, Phoenix opened a bag of M&M’s then poured half of it into Rooster’s popcorn, the other half going into the box she and Bob were sharing. They sat through the twenty minutes of previews and when Phoenix glanced over she wasn’t entirely surprised to find most of the Daggers dozing already. It was dark and cool in the room, a nice break from the heat of the Australian summer sun. Even Maverick was struggling to keep her eyes open, something Phoenix wouldn’t have ever predicted. The only other Dagger mostly awake was Bob after his impromptu nap on the way to the prison that morning, sending her a smile when the movie finally started. A young woman ran across a train station, politely apologising to everyone she nearly bumped into on her way to a coffee shop. Bob glanced down at Phoenix when she yawned, offering his shoulder.

“I won’t tell ‘em.”

She accepted the offer, leaning on his shoulder.

“Wake me if something happens.”

“Tash. Phoenix, wake up.”

Phoenix felt like she’d only just closed her eyes when Bob jolted her out of her doze, sitting upright.

“Wha? What’s wrong?”

“Look!”

Phoenix scrubbed at her eyes, glancing up at the screen. Her eyes widened and she reached over to wake Rooster.

“Look,” she hissed, “doesn’t that kind of look like-“

Rooster’s brows furrowed as his brain tried to wake up, probably in his REM stage considering what time it was back at home, then he connected the dots and snorted.

“It kinda looks like Bagman- huh... I wonder if that’s what those women were talking about earlier?”

“At the beach? You saw that?”

“No, at the coffee shop this morning. A woman came outta nowhere, asked Hangman for his autograph.”

The male lead in the movie started yelling and stripping, pulling his shirt off shortly followed by his shorts which were tossed into the trees. Rooster snorted.

“He looks so much like Bagman, I wonder if he has-“

Phoenix and Rooster’s heads tilted to the side, frowning.

“The ass dimple.”

Rooster turned to his other side, frantically shaking Hangman awake.

“Bagman, look! Your ass is in a movie!”

“Was that a dream? Did I dream that?”

Standing outside the theatre, waiting for their ubers to take them back to their hotel, the Daggers all turned to Hangman who looked like he was having an existential crisis.

“Nope, sorry man. Wasn’t a dream,” Rooster grinned. Phoenix jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, stifling her own snort. Bob glanced between them.

“How did you two figure it out again? The ass dimple?”

“That’s classified,” Phoenix commented at the same time Rooster said, “it was a long time ago.”

Hangman rolled his eyes, focusing on the parking area.

“Thanks for exposing me.”

“Anytime,” Rooster grinned. The uber drivers began to arrive and the Daggers paired off, splitting into the three cars. Maverick took the front seat of one of the cars, glancing over his shoulder at Rooster and Phoenix.

“Am I missing something?”

“No, Mav,” Rooster said easily, exchanging a look with his best friend who turned toward the window to stifle her giggles.

The next morning the Daggers eased into their day plans, having breakfast together in Rooster’s hotel room and then discussing what they wanted to do. JD, who met them a little after they finished eating, suggested a ferry ride out to Rottnest Island.

“Wait- isn’t that where you can see a quokka?” Fanboy asked. JD nodded.

“They roam all over the island out there, it’s almost certain you’ll see at least one.”

“JD I’m guessing you already got tickets?”

Maverick glanced over at JD.

“We should get going though if we’re going to get there in time. The ferry is a decent drive out of the city. Everyone should take plenty of water and sunscreen but there is a general store on the island.”

“That’s great- Hangman, are you alright?”

Hangman glanced up, shaking his head.

“Rough night. I’m good.”

Phoenix and Rooster snickered whilst Payback covered his laugh with a cough. Maverick’s eyes passed over the Daggers then he smiled at JD.

“Let’s go.”

The ferry ride was surprisingly smooth on the way over, the water steady enough that Bob took to reading the brochures nearby without motion sickness and Rooster had a short nap on the seat against the window. By the time they got to the island Bob was full of knowledge- mainly about the local wildlife.

“Guys, I wonder how many snakes we’re gonna see? Apparently they release them on to this island all the time.”

Phoenix’s eyes darted to Bob, glaring at him.

“What?”

“Yeah, the Western Australia government relocates snakes out here instead of letting them- y’know.”

“Die?” Payback filled in, but his eyes were firmly on the ground as though he was looking for any signs of said reptilian attacker. Hangman’s lips quirked upwards.

“They’ve never seen a rattlesnake-“

“-did you not see that video they played on the plane ride over? Tiger snakes are aggressive and dangerous,” Phoenix interrupted as she threw her hands in the air. JD laughed at the Daggers.

“Tiger snakes aren’t social creatures; the only reason they’d come into populated locations like this is if their habitat was invaded or there was insufficient food. The conservation teams out here are great with snake monitoring and they’re all qualified to relocate them. It’s not the tiger snakes you need to worry about, though; we have a dugite snake population out here and they’re highly poisonous.”

“A what?” Rooster asked. Bob dug out his phone and after a quick search showed Rooster said snake. The others watched the colour drain from his face.

“That’s terrifying.”

“Stick to the paths, and most importantly if you see one don’t move, just let it go on its way. It’s very rare that a snake comes anywhere near here but we like to be aware of our surroundings.”

JD gestured to the first café he saw.

“C’mon; I believe you guys could use a coffee.”

“Do you guys have a break every ten minutes for coffee? Goddamn,” Rooster muttered. Despite his comment he still jogged to catch up with the others, ready for a caffeine hit.

“Bagman what’s your coffee count at?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Mickey, you’re walking so close to me I’m getting claustrophobic. What are you doing?”

Reuben glanced over at his wizzo who was indeed standing quite close, frowning at him. Fanboy cleared his throat, scooting over a little.

“Sorry man; the snake talk freaked me out.”

“Me too but I’m not being snake bait so you’re gonna have to walk like a normal person. C’mon Mickey, we literally fly death traps for work!”

“And fun!” Hangman called, a couple metres behind them. Fanboy glanced over his shoulder to glare at the caffeinated aviator, turning back to face toward the rest of the track.

“I fuckin’ hate snakes, I never made peace with ‘em-“

“-make peace?”

Payback burst out laughing, doubling over as he gasped between laughter. Fanboy rolled his eyes.

“What a great partner you are. Thanks for the support.”

“Make peace!”

“What’s got him so wound up?” Coyote asked as he passed the couple on the walking track, Rooster and Phoenix ahead with JD whilst Bob had stayed back with Maverick and they were talking between themselves.

“Mickey has just told me he wants to make peace with a snake,” Payback said, stifling his laughter. Coyote’s eyebrow twitched as he tried not to smile.

“That sounds like something that could get us in trouble with the locals.”

“Fuck you- both of you!”

Coyote and Payback broke into laughter, standing around long enough that Maverick, Bob and Hangman caught up to them. Hangman opened his mouth to start talking but Bob easily slid a palm over it.

“That’s enough from you. What’s so funny?”

“We were thinking of going to the zoo later to see if Fanboy can face his little snake phobia,” Payback said. Bob snorted.

“I’m in.”

“You’re all mean as hell,” Fanboy groaned, “I’m hanging out with Hangman now. C’mon Hangman.”

“No one tells me what to do-“

“-Seresin, get a move on!”

“Coming Mav!”

Maverick had kept going around the teasing; Hangman took off to catch up to Maverick and Bob sent the others a look.

“He’s gonna crash hard any second now. Be prepared.”

“Oh, we’re ready.”

The search for a quokka took a little longer than expected; it was only that they stopped the lap around the island for a bathroom break that Phoenix saw one whilst she was waiting for the guys.

“Ohhhhhh holy shit!”

JD, standing on the other side of the track, smiled at her.

“They’re cute aren’t they?”

The closer Phoenix got the more confused she was.

“It looks like a rat!”

“That one’s probably got a bit of somethin’, you know how it is.”

“But- but all the celebrity photos- they’re cute!”

“I appreciate that, Phoenix,” Rooster said when he appeared. Phoenix whipped around, phone in hand.

“Roos! Look, a quokka!”

“What the fuck is that?!”

Rooster backed away from the quokka, an eyebrow raised.

“Why does it look like that?”

“Bradley, respect!” Maverick scolded as he came out, giving Rooster a quick swat up the back of his head. Rooster pointed toward his feet where the quokka had decided to hang out and Maverick grinned.

“Look at that! Hey little guy, what are you doing down there, huh?”

“Mav, I think it’s got mange,” Rooster winced. Then he smirked.

“Wait here, maybe it’ll bite Hangman. Hey, Seresin-“

Phoenix laughed when Rooster went to turn back into the bathrooms, only stopped by Maverick who caught him by the arm.

“Not now, there’s witnesses- hey, JD.”

JD laughed as he watched Rooster and Maverick, Phoenix rolling her eyes as she took a couple photos of the quokka.

“Bloody hell mate, you lot are cooked,” JD laughed. The others emerged from the bathrooms, Payback pausing when he realised Phoenix was taking photos.

“Hey, Fanboy look, snake!”

A kid in the background, having overheard Payback, screamed for his mother and Hangman burst out laughing.

“Aw, man, Payback, you made a kid cry. No more quokkas for you.”

That night, Maverick and JD organised a pit fire at JD’s (despite fire regulations, they were very aware there was some law bending going on there) as well as beer and fire-grilled steak (Hangman’s mouth started watering when JD mentioned it). A couple kilometres out of the city JD’s parents had a small farm and when the Daggers got there they had a fire going in the fire pit, steak almost ready to go on the fire and cold beer in the esky nearby. They all gathered around the fire and Bob reached for a bottle of water.

“Hey, JD, I forgot to ask; are dropbears real?”

JD hummed. Winked at Bob who smirked.

“Mate, we try not to talk about it, but we’ve seen a lot of ‘em around here lately. Just don’t go out the back when it gets darker, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Coyote leaned back in his chair, beer in hand.

“What the fuck is a dropbear?”

“Wait; you guys don’t know what a dropbear is?” Bob started. Phoenix put down her raspberry Cruiser, something she’d been handed by JD’s girlfriend.

“How do you not know what a dropbear is?”

Rooster scoffed.

“Oh c’mon, everyone knows what a dropbear is-“

“-shhh!”

Phoenix elbowed him in the ribs, putting a finger to her lips to shush him. Hangman was leaning forward, interested.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s a dropbear?”

“A killer koala; mate, they have these gnarly teeth, and these claws that can claw through- well, anything!”

Coyote gaped.

“Killer koalas?”

Maverick snorted, watching Phoenix and Bob exchange a look. JD piped up then.

“Mate, dropbears... they’re terrifying. One night, my dad, he went into the bush looking for some firewood when we were camping... came out covered in scratches. The only thing that could do that, well...”

JD took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. Everyone glanced around, eyebrows furrowed.

“He’s not serious... right?”

Hangman was the first to speak up, but he shut his mouth when JD turned to him.

“Deadly serious, mate. You don’t stand under a tree after dark out here.”

“Right,” Hangman scoffed, “y’know we can read. There’s no way dropbears are real.”

Bob raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

The beer and steak around the fire was a great idea, and everyone was in high spirits as they got ready to go back to the city. By the time they were climbing into the van they were giggling to themselves about how loud Rooster had yelled when he’d gone to pee behind a tree, heard rustling and thought it was a dropbear coming to eat him alive. The good news was Bob definitely wasn’t going to eat him but he wasn’t going to let him forget it either. The nerves about the panel the following morning had mostly dissipated, Rooster himself even saying he was ready to tell the story to an audience rather than explaining his every move to Cyclone because he had to. Maverick had taken one look at him as he climbed into the van then passed him a huge bottle of water and reminded him that even if he was hungover he still had to show up. Hangman finally had his caffeine crash and was snoring in the back of the van- Phoenix had wanted to draw on him in retaliation for every dumb stunt he’d pulled but Coyote had frantically shaken his head at her; he’d been rooming with Hangman and he was like an energiser bunny on a good day. Payback and Fanboy were quiet as they took their seats, still googling dropbears to see if there was anything to those rumours even though JD swore on his mum’s life that he really was just shit stirring. Bob was still thinking about the huntsman spider he’d seen in a brochure and was reaching to shake out his boots just in case putting them back on earlier hadn’t been enough to kill whatever may have snuck in there.

“Hey, Mav?”

Maverick glanced over his shoulder at Phoenix as they walked into the hotel lobby, ready to sleep for a million years. As much as he’d tired the Daggers out he’d exhausted himself too.

“Yes, Tash?”

“Tonight was a really good idea. Thanks.”

“Thank JD; it was mostly his idea, I just bought the steak.”

“But still. We’ve been so busy ever since the... y’know. We’re here for the conference but this... this feels like a vacation too and I think we needed it.”

Maverick smiled.

“We all need breaks sometimes.”

“Even you?”

“I can’t remember the last time I took a vacation day unless it was forced- wait, yes I can. Bradley decked a kid at school. God, I’ll never forget that phone call. He was 12...”

As they headed into the elevator Maverick began to tell the tale, Phoenix hanging on his every word.

“And now we turn to the United States’ top aviators, the Dagger Squad.”

Maverick sat up in his seat, nudging Rooster under the table.

“Shoulders back,” he whispered, but apparently the microphones were sensitive enough to catch it and the group of Australian Navy personnel stared blankly. Maverick cleared his throat.

“We knew what we were facing going in. We had a steep mountain, g’s that tested our skills and the risk of fifth-generation fighters taking us out at any given moment.”

“Sir, who was the enemy?” Someone piped up from the crowd. Maverick cleared his throat.

“That’s classified. Now, in order to start our training, we spent a lot of time running simulations...”

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