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chemistryread · 2 years

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disclaimers/tags: female oc. written as a reader insert but reader has a lot of backstory. slowburn. angst. no fun spin on misogyny, just the bad one. implied domestic violence but nothing too graphic. minors dni.

a/n: the plot of the show is not relevant to this story, i’m just using the characters, who are likely ooc. i’m hoping to end it within 3-4 posts but like i said, it’s a bit of a slowburn. i pulled the wattpad tropes out for this one and i’m not sorry, it is cheesy. if you’ve seen the show, the boyfriend shares similarities with the tillerson boys. it’s purposefully ambiguous, up to you if it’s one of them or not. rhett is not a fuckboy in this, just a boy who fucks.

lmk your thoughts :)

part 2

right cowboy, wrong time

rhett abbott

summary: you’re not home and your boyfriend’s a dick. thankfully, not all cowboys are bad.

The humid air makes your nose itch, adapting to the change in weather. Your head is held high, however, trying not to look too out of place and dare draw any attention.

"You're not fooling anyone."

"Excuse me?"

He leans in by your side, arms crossing in front of him as he looks over his elbows, pretending something in the mud caught his eye.

"Most girls from the city who try to pass as locals at least dress up the part. You couldn't find any boots that fit your taste?"

Blue eyes squint at the pair of Vans perched on the wooden fence, matching your dark 'mom jeans'.

It was bold of this guy, you thought, to come up to you with so much snark after falling from a bull so badly the audience audibly winced. But there was something soft in his features, non malicious. You decide to risk being honest with him.

"The cowboy hat is a demand from my boyfriend. So is the push-up bra." You point to your pronounced chest with your chin, smiling when the stranger next to you follows the movement with a lazy gaze. "It's funny, he said something similar. He wants me to look more like the girls from around here."

The stranger finally looks you in the eye from under his own hat. Unfamiliar warmth fills your belly and you fight the urge to clear the hair away from his face.

"Why doesn't he just date them, then?"

A loud bitter laugh escapes from your lips right into his ears, and he straigtens up instantly, like a shock.

"Million dollar question, isn't it?" Thin lips reciprocate your smile. God, you thought you hated all cowboys. "Uhm, he says they bore him. He wants my brain, but their look. If you ask me the truth, I just think he went through all of them already, so he went looking for an idiot to appease him somewhere else. And he found me."

Amusement crosses his eyes despite the frown in display on his face.

"He sounds like an asshole."

Unkown nice cowboy has a lovely, deep voice.

You're about to lean a little closer and agree, when someone cuts you off.

"Who does?" Blinding white teeth bite into the cold night air, the strong arms of your boyfriend crushing your side into him, akin to a predator protecting his meal. "Abbott."

Your new friend acknowledges the tall blonde possessively separating you two with equal contempt in his words.

Suddenly, you're invisible. The nice boy leaves without so much as a glance.

These will be miserable months.

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

"So, Abbott, huh?"

Maybe you shouldn't have followed him into the grocery store, but it was hot outside.

"What, interested? We might have a name, but that name doesn't have much money attached to it anymore."

He doesn't look at you, simply puts what he needs in his basket and keeps walking. You trace his steps from a distance, enjoying the refreshing breeze from the AC.

"No danger of that. As you've seen, I'm taken."

His arm freezes above his head, shades of blue boring into you inquisitively, before he grabs a can of beans and checks the expiration date on it.

"I'm just looking for a friend. I'll hardly survive here if I don't have any of those."

"What about your guy? He won't like this friendship."

You shrug innocently, dusting the shelves with the tip of your fingers.

"It's his fault I can't have any girl friends in this town, seeing they are all his exes and consequently dislike me at once. Plus, who said I want you to be my friend? I'm just banking on the fact that your family is known around here, and you'd be an easy shortcut to meeting people."

"So you're using me." He speaks over his shoulder, walking to the freezer section.

"Sure am. But at least I'm honest about it."

His back is still turned to you when he speaks again.

"Is that a big thing for you, honesty?"

Your skin grows hot. This random cute boy can't read your mind, relax. He's trying to get to know you. It's small talk. Not everyone wants to hurt you.

"It is. Count on it."

Hopefully, how vulnerable it is to admit as much doesn't come across.

Abbott side-eyes you, with a genuine smirk. It forces you to look away, intimidated.

Maybe it was mistake to target him. You should leave.

Before a rude goodbye can leave your lips, the young man turns to you.

"Why are you here, if you don't know anyone?"

Short fingernails picking the label off cheap frozen veggies, you try to smile but it certainly doesn't reach your eyes.

"Taking some time off university."

How embarrassing. You have no problem poking and probing until they do it to you, and then you're avoiding eye contact and looking for an exit.

"What do you study?"

"English. In Boston. I'm a writer. Allegedly."

You can tell your joke entertains him from the small exhale that comes out of his nose.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it." The truth finally forces you to look up. You notice the confusion on his face, anticipating his question with a shrug. "My boyfriend. He wanted me to take a break."

Abbott looks disappointed, and, for whatever reason, it hurts. A silly desire for him to think highly of you.

"I don't mean to overstep, but I wouldn't peg you for the kind'f girl to go where a man tells her to."

A terrible habit, you cover the purple spot on your jaw with your hair, pretending to smooth non existent knots.

"It wasn't an easy choice, but it was for the best."

Thin brows furrow and dirty fingers brush the strands away, gently. Of course he would notice.

"I'll get out of your hair now, sorry to bother. I was really just trying to cool off. See you around!"

Trembling hands push the grocery store's doors, curse words mumbled under your breath. Great fucking job, idiot.

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

He approaches you next.

You saw him earlier when you got to the bar, drinking with another guy, but kept your head down and continued walking next to your boyfriend and his friends.

It was going to be hard to get to you, since you weren't allowed to be alone unless you were going to the bathroom. Which is how he got you.

As soon as you step out to wash your hands, he's in the corridor, chewing on his bottom lip.

"Stranger." Eyes meet and you try to ignore the hair in the back of your neck standing up. You do your best to not get your sleeves wet without having to push them up too high. "Men's room occupied?"

He doesn't miss the suggestivenes on your tone, copying the smirk you're struggling to hide. For all you know, he might have some pretty blonde freshening up in there.

"You city folks and beating 'round the bush."

His voice rumbles through you, tongue busy tsking at your poor attempt at avoiding the elephant in the room.

You take him in through the mirror's reflection. Hands in his pockets, leaning on the plastic divider failing to pass as real wood. Looking determinedly at you.

If you said so, would he beat the shit out of your boyfriend and make sure he never calls again?

Tossing the crumpled handtowel in the trash, your back touches the soaked and sticky counter, commanding him to listen by returning his direct staring.

"Okay. This is not your problem to fix. I'm sorry about what you saw, it wasn't a signal or anything. I'm fine and you don't need to get involved. Good?"

He nods and you move to leave, stopped by an unsure hand grabbing your elbow. It quickly retracts to his side, wiping against his jeans.

"Do you need a job or something?"

"I thought your family didn't have much money."

A shy smile takes over his features, breaking the restraint that always seems to reign over. Another small chuckle escapes him, making his Adam's apple throb and your eyes drag not so subtly.

The smell of hard vodka hits your nose when he inches closer, stuttering.

"My brother, uhm, has a friend who owns a diner nearby. It's smack centre of town, busy enough that he always needs more help and most of the creeps avoid it. Probably not what a fancy writer from Boston dreams of but if you plan on sticking around, it'll help you get some of your own cash."

The promise of independence.

You give him a warm smile you haven't gifted anyone with in a while.

"Can I get the name of this magical place?"

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

It's early, too early, his head feels like it weighs three times its normal and all he wants is for his family to lower their voices.

Until your sweet ring, sharpened for customer service points, breaks through his morning suffering and drowns the sour taste in his mouth.

"Hello, beautiful people. What can I get you?" The apron is neatly tied with a bow on top of your stomach, clearly tightened around your back and then the front again, with more effort than he's ever seen in this diner. He can't help but scoff, and you finally look up from the old school notepad in your hands. "Oh, hi."

Everyone at the table shoots him a glare, assuming what they always did. One more girl they'll never learn the name of, and it's possibly better that way.

His mother, in particular, has a scowl on her face, looking out the window and avoiding dealing with whoever her son messes with.

"Happy to see you here."

The sun bothers his eyes, one of which is closed when he acknowledges you. He has no idea how his mom can have her head turned that way without wincing. Although she coughs, he's sure it's in response to what he had just said.

It was innocent, but she didn't know that.

"Wouldn't be if it wasn't for you." That gets his mother to look. "Thanks, by the way."

He puts his fist in front of his lips, elbows glued to the recently wiped table, a bit embarrassed of all the attention you dumped onto him.

"I didn't do nothing, Perry is the one who talked to his friend. You should thank him."

You throw a small smile at him, almost teasing, barely whispering an 'oh'. He sees very little of your teeth, rosy lips and dimples provoking him for a brief second before you redirect your kindness to his brother on the other side of the table.

"I am very grateful, you basically got me the job." Perry extends his hand for you to shake, and there's a little spark in his eyes that's been gone since Rebecca. Maybe it's your effect on people. "Let me return the favor and get you guys a good breakfast, what do you say?"

When you leave, he takes a page from his mom's book and stares at the brightness cascading down the trucks in the parking lot. His head hurts again but at least he's definitely not thinking about the lines around your eyes when you grin or the flowery smell you left behind.

"Who is she?"

"Drop it, ma." The question comes in a much more unpretentious manner than usual and it doesn't go unnoticed by him, even if he's not looking at her. "Some girl from outta town who needed help settling in. That's all."

At the last word, he tips his hat over his eyes and decides he's better off daydreaming about the attractive outsider committed to being nice to him than fending off his family's suspicions.

You leave them to it after serving their plates, and he misses your eyes on him but doesn't say anything.

When they're leaving, Amelia dettaches herself from her father's grip and pokes you in the leg as you're cleaning a different table close to the exit. He holds the door, intrigued by what on earth this kid is up to now.

"Uncle Rhett says you're from out of town." He almost knocks his forehead on the glass as he realizes he offered you a job but never a name. You nod at his niece, sending him a questioning look. "You're just as pretty as I thought they'd be."

He feels like bolting out of the diner and running home. What if you thought he told Amelia to say that to you? You'll think he's a fucking loser.

Not that he should care this much.

Instead, he's frozen in place watching another breathtaking smile blossom on your face as you think about how to react.

"Well," You sigh, and look straight into the little girl's eyes. "Takes one to know one."

With a wink, you exchange introductions and he might have to thank his niece later for that, because he never asked for your name either.

You go straight back to wiping the table so he walks away, but not without a weird feeling someone's watching as he climbs into the back of the truck.

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

It's a while before he sees you again.

He doesn't bother you at work, too shy despite his curiosity to go in alone and too hungover to wake up in time to follow his family for breakfast.

You don't go out much, or at all, apparently. He's at the bar every night, you're not.

He sees Maria though, stunning as ever. And like most nights, she makes him too nervous and he does nothing about it.

Perry calls in a favor and now he's parking the truck in the back of the diner with a couple of boxes of fresh produce on the passenger seat.

It's you who comes out to greet him.

You're awfully quiet and evasive, taking the boxes inside without making eye contact.

When you come back with the money, you accidentally skip a step, heel of your shoe sliding off the wood and causing you to land a little harsh on the concrete.

He's quick to steady you, ready to joke about your useless sneakers when he realizes the contorted look on your face and how you're grabbing at your left knee.

"Ok there?"

Like you remembered yourself, your back straightens up and you shove the money into his hands, pushing him away in the process. The distance is not enough that he doesn't see the tears welling up in your eyes.

"Fine. Here you go. Lenny says thanks."

Turning to climb back inside, as soon as your left leg rises, you audibly wince and stop.

He's not too sure of what do, until he hears shaky breaths.

"I'll take you to a hospital, let-"

"No hospitals, I can't."

It's an automatic response and he understands immediately.

"How bad is it?"

He can't really see through your jeans.

"He- I fell. I think it's just bruised, I don't know."

"My mom can take a look at it, she's had plenty of practice with my brother and I, she won't mind. Don't protest, just get in the car. I'll tell Lenny you're not feeling too good."

Before you can stop him, he's putting the money on Lenny's palm and stammering out an excuse. He's surprised by how fast he sprung into action too.

During the ride you don't cry, but stubborn hiccups give away that you're holding the tears back really hard. He wants to tell you it's okay, he doesn't care if you cry, but he's scared if he opens his mouth he'll end up saying something that'll make you more upset, choosing instead to white-knuckle his steering wheel.

His mother is washing the pans from lunch when he gets home, you following behind uncertain, making yourself small. It's a stark contrast from the day you followed him into the grocery store, mindlessly striking up conversation, and it bothers him.

She remembers you, surprisingly, but still asks menacingly what he thinks he's doing.

"She's hurt, and I thought you might help, Ma.”

You look so uncomfortable, ashamed to impose. He tells you to take a seat on the couch and moves to grab you a glass of water from the kitchen, stopping by his mother to put a hand on her shoulder and whisper who's your boyfriend.

A look of understanding quickly crosses her eyes, and instant compassion takes over, huffing as she crouches down to get the first aid kit under the sink.

The two women fall into comfortable silence. The knee is simply sore, the skin a little dark, but he knows you probably didn't give it any time to heal, waltzing around the diner for days without taking care of yourself.

You're given pain killers and he finally hands you the water, fingertips wet from nervously gripping the bottom of the glass, trying not to curse out the man responsible for your situation.

This kind of thing wasn't entirely unusual for smaller, conservative towns, but times have gladly changed. No one here likes to see it, the cuplrits are pointed out wherever they go, sometimes being denied service and shunted from the community. Still, no one's forward enough to put themselves in between 'husband and wife'.

It's a pity, he thinks. All you had to do was ask, and he would get his father and his brother to kick an entire generation of blonde little pricks out of their town.

Alas, you never did.

He thinks you don't want to ask, analyzing closely how apologetic you are to his mother, scared to sit back on the couch and take space that isn’t yours.

The older woman gets up, glancing between you and him.

"Don't worry, kid. I'm quite happy to meet you. I usually don't get to tell Rhett's girls they are welcome to stay."

She manages to be endearing to you and venomous to him in the same breath, and he chuckles lowly through gritted teeth, looking up at the ceiling. Of course she would say something like that.

Wondering what you're probably thinking of him at his mother's revelation, he finds you biting back a grin, dimples digging into your cheeks. Once more, he loses control of himself and returns - actually, no, gratuitously hands you a wide smile in a silver platter. His reaction is five times bigger than yours.

"His girls, plural, you say?" There's something infuriating about your energy towards him. You're fucking with him, no doubt about that, but it's not mean. Well, maybe a little bit because you seem to enjoy the way he changes his footing back and forth, blushing at his damn boots. Somehow, however, it fills him with giddiness. He has no reason to be so certain about it, but he knows it's lighthearted. If you had evil intent, maybe he would've already had you crammed into his truck and drooling around his cock. Unfortunately, seems like you were truthful that day at the store. You want a friend. "'Fraid I'm not of them, ma'am. I have my own guy to worry about."

You're looking back at the matriarch now, arms hanging on top of cushions, green blemishes hidden underneath your biceps.

"That's never stopped any of you before."

It's a test.

You're quicker than her.

"I don't think the size of a district interferes with someone's morals. I might've been raised by a big city, but I'm not and have never been that kind of girl."

His mother snaps back your way, spine straight, slowly breaking out a smile. You passed with flying colors. She likes folks who can stand up for themselves, means they think they're good enough to start a fight over, and that's good enough for her.

At that moment, Amelia bursts through the door, already rambling to her grandmother about something she learned in school that day.

When she sees you, she freezes in the middle of the kitchen, out of breath from all the talking. Fast hands roll your pant leg down before she can see anything.

Amy can barely contain her smile, fixing herself up and dropping her school bag on the floor. "What are you doing here?"

You brush off the older members of the family reprimanding her lack of manners.

"Paying a visit. On my way out, though, I should be getting back to work."

Trying to stand up without a fuss is a disaster, and he's right by your side in case you need to lean on someone. Of course you reject it, though.

"Are you okay?"

"Just fine. I slipped at work and your uncle offered to help, that's all."

Shooting the girl a reassuring smile, she betrays it with a suspicious laugh.

The two of you stare at her, confused.

"Yeah, Uncle Rhett is such a helping hand."

Sarcasm is dripping from her words and he knows immediately that you two will get along. Dangerously so.

Ignoring the brat, he turns to you, hand still hovering behind your back.

"It's late, there's like, what? Forty minutes left to your shift? Twenty after we finally get there? I'll just take you home."

Your eyes widen at the mention of home. Of course he, an Abbott, can't drop you off at your boyfriend's property, where he assumed you were staying.

"Wait, can I show you around before you go? I want you to see something."

Amelia butts in before he can signal that he understood and he'd give you a ride to town, at least. You nod at the smaller figure, letting her take your hand.

He's debating whether or not to follow you two, until you look back from the doorway.

"Aren't you coming? If we get lost, we might need your savior complex."

It's another dig at him. This time, he has a comeback at the tip of his tongue.

"I'll stop saving you when you stop needing me."

He knows his mother is smiling.

Whatever confident spirit possessed him, it pushes him out the door, chest grazing yours as he tips his hat your way, boots digging into the humid grass and whistling for one the dogs to accompany you.

He hears you laugh for the first time since he saw you at the rodeo. It's really, really nice.

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

You begin seeing each other more often after that day.

Rhett comes in at least three times a week, usually with Amelia, paying for her milkshake. They sit at the counter so they can talk to you when you're not attending to any tables.

You don't think much of it. Your boyfriend's the only one you go home to every night, no matter what. You have no intentions of changing that, for now.

Aside from the Abbotts, Danielle who works with you is the only other friend you've made. You like it that way. Lenny, not unlike the patrons at the diner, asks too many personal questions so you keep your conversations to a minimum.

Work, then to your boyfriend's mansion.

The house is usually quiet, so after being stuck for so long in a writer's block, it's a relief when you pick up your laptop and start something new. It could be worse.

On a slow Wednesday, Amelia convinces you to let her help wipe the tables.

Bending down to pick up an abandoned spoon on the floor, something strange nags at the pit of your stomach. Rhett is talking to a girl with long, dark hair.

It happens. But with her, you notice, his body language is much more insecure. Spilling his coffee accidentally.

"What am I looking at?"

Amelia barely spares them a glance before scoffing. "That's Maria. Uncle Rhett has had a dying crush on her since high school. That's what my dad says."

"She's beautiful."

She really is. When she leaves the diner, most pair of eyes, men and women, follow her.

"I guess. Too beautiful, my dad says, and that's why my uncle never does anything about it. It scares him."

What you wouldn't give to feel like that for a day.

Dating a man who is constantly requesting that you look different, like other people, is terribly exhausting. And some got to walk around effortlessly desirable to everyone. It's hardly fair.

With his credit card, you buy new clothes and more make up. It's a good few weeks for the two of you, best you've had in a while.

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

On a day off, you decide to tag along for the rodeo.

Maria is there too, with one of your boyfriend's brothers, which you find weird. In a sea of options, she can definitely do better. You'd tell her, but under his eagle eye you have no time to introduce yourself.

Rhett is riding one of the bulls, and you see how her eyes never leave him, even when he's standing in the sidelines waiting for his turn. She wrings her hands together when he mounts, and claps excitedly when he marks a good time despite the pointed looks from the boys.

Your hand is in a tight grip as you walk into the bar, and the minute you do, Maria frees herself with two strong strides. Your feet almost follow her, wondering if her group of girlfriends would let you sit with them and just listen.

She spends her night laughing, dancing, and talking to Rhett as the bartender serves her a new round. Yours is spent watching in envy.

A hand possessively squeezes around your thigh, drawing your attention away.

"Sorry. I need air."

Three minutes is all you get to yourself. Heavy boots make the wood creak, awkward step causing you to stifle a tipsy laugh.

He's not gonna forgive you for that.

You're pressed against the wall, his arms trapping you as he snarls his complaints, hair flying into your mouth as you yell back. It's bad, and loud, but fuck it.

He talks about how boring you are, how the other girls don't mind growing their hair in the heat, their nails are still manicured, their asses still full despite not eating much. You talk about feeling overwhelmed and homesick, out of your element. It's not the same. It's not fucking fair.

The Abbott siblings walk out when he's calling you a stuck up bitch, your answer dying in your throat.

You're so fucking stupid. Incapable of controlling yourself. He notices the look you exchange with the younger brother, quietly crossing your arms and swallowing your tears, flustered cheeks pointing at the ground.

In no time, he's scoffing and turning towards the entrance.

"Abbott, you got something to tell me?"

Rolling your eyes, you push yourself to sound annoyed and confused, calling his name.

He shuts you up with a finger to your face.

"Don't play dumb." Looking between the pair of you, the lewdness in his next sentence makes you nauseous. "I can't let your whore ass out of my sight, can I?"

Rhett steps forward and you know this is not going to end well.

They're talking over each other and your attempt to be heard is pathetic, trying nonetheless, pulling by his shirt and begging him to let it go.

Knowing exactly how to put a stop to this nonsense, you put your body in between the men and, reactively, an elbow makes contact with your mouth. The blood is still not as sickening as your boyfriend's remarks.

It doesn't take much to assure you it was him. Perry and Rhett are more careful than that, probably raised well by their mama (in a brief moment of dizziness, a smile comes to your bloody lips). But he stopped yelling, and moving. Throwing scared glances between the people outside.

People knew, but to deal with it man to man was different.

Spitting out the dark liquid, you look up at your boyfriend. "Can we go home now?"

Cursing under his breath, he shoulders past the other boys and walks away to wait for you by the truck.

If you stop to breathe, you might crumble. So you turn and walk back inside, poignantly avoiding the two pairs of eyes bugging out at you.

Determined steps take you to the table you were sitting at minutes ago. If you had just kept your emotions under- nevermind that.

The girls, Maria especially, are terrified to see your red teeth. Her eyes question something behind you, and you assume Rhett followed you inside.

Anticipating his hand on the small of your back, you take a step closer to the table, fully under the white light hanging above. The boys are unphased by your state.

"Keys." Met with a wave of grunts at the thought of losing their friend this early in the night. "He wants to go."

A blonde head pokes out, challenging. Drunk out of his mind, slurring his words. "C'mon, I thought it was your job to, howtoputit, mellow him out? Did you even try? Let me look down your throat, say 'Ah'."

A couple people laugh. Rhett growls behind you, and before he can make things worse, you square your shoulders, then shrug.

"Why do you think he wants to go?" You could puke right then and there. Instead, you extend your hand. "Keys."

You bump Rhett on the shoulder on your way out, just like your boyfriend. The regret and the image of those crooked repulsive smiles at the table cause you to throw up as soon as your shoes hit the dirt. Perry looks away, respectfully, until you're climbing inside the truck.

part 2 is finished and will come out soon :)

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #reader insert #i havent written in a while im nervous asaaaaaahhhhaggg

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outofangband · 10 months

Text

Once again thinking about my conversation with @theworldisquietheretooquiet about information networks in Hithlum post Nírnaeth !

under the cut just because it's kind of rambling

I’ve talked about the dynamics of information and language control in Angband and it’s one of my favorite subjects as is this now!

Other relevant posts: food control plus my occupation of hithlum tag

And about how Sador tells Túrin that Aerin will suffer if she’s caught whispering to travelers at the door. This might just be a statement about how controlling Brodda is in general* but it could also imply that there was information traveling among the oppressed people in Hithlum especially when linked to the line about news about Morwen (not) coming to Hithlum and again what Sador says about not all ears being on the heads of good people.

*and I think it should also be read as that! The terroristic nature of interpersonal violence and domestic abuse absolutely mirrors the dynamics of larger scale oppression and violence. It adds to just how trapped Aerin is, experiencing this control and oppression on both level which I talked about in my post about her and complex trauma

Even that line I so love "word ran among them that she was perilous and a witch..." it just helps in setting up this oppressive atmosphere of rumor and treachery, where neighbors will turn against each other to appease the occupiers because the threats of violence are so ever present.

There is so much fear and uncertainty!

The language of the Hadorians and likely Sindarin as well are, if not banned, heavily policed and looked down upon. Brodda calls it the thrall tongue and denigrates Túrin for speaking it when he arrives.

This means that not only is communication and information limited but culture is as well; song and rhyme and recipe and story

I wonder if it is being taught at all. We know that some remnants of Hadorian Taliska survive because the Adûnic language of Númenor has connections to it but it probably fades among some families at least. Children are not taught it from birth because they will be too young to understand that they cannot speak it. Words and phrases and songs and poems are lost

Morwen herself has already experienced this sort of loss with Bëorian Taliska.

I doubt the occupiers want the Hadorians to have any methods of communication that they themselves weren't privy to (Brodda does seem to speak at least some of Hadorian Taliska? Because of course the Narn is entirely in English it's difficult to always say exactly who is speaking what. This could go back to my conspiracy about him still being of Hithlum in the later versions and of course this raises questions for the BoLT version too, given that the Occupiers are indeed largely of Hador's people too but that's for a different time.)

It goes back to my HC about Aerin drawing too. Even aside from the issue of communicating important information, even rebellious information, just communicating any sort of connection or love between separated families and friends during the occupation is so precarious too. A broken, divided people is easier to control.

But I do think that information is shared that works towards defiance. Sador tells Túrin that Aerin knows all counsels of Morwen for example. There is knowledge being shared and protected and passed quietly, slowly, and patiently.

We know that at least in the beginning, tidings are brought to Morwen by some of Brodda’s slaves who are dehumanized but “Ill guarded”. This is important because it shows that all of them, including Tolkien, understood the value of information and news and why it was so important to the occupiers to try and limit it

And that people who were literally enslaved were willing to risk so much just to bring news and then returned to their imprisonment! I wonder so much about the contents of those messages.

I do think that this decreases over time. It becomes more dangerous and they are more harshly punished and more strictly guarded.

I think about the effect this would have on young Niënor. I know I talked about it a bunch here but just the utter isolation she grew up in, the knowledge that her existence needed to be kept as secret as possible and what could happen to her and her mother if the wrong people found out. Even if she didn’t grow up in captivity, she grew up in fear, she grew up with information limited, she grew up with so much uncertainty. Niënor was unable to fully explore and learn as children should. There are people in the house of course, the primarily elderly servants and the occasional visitors but she’s still very isolated.

I also wonder about the messengers from Doriath who vanished taking information to and from Morwen’s house. My new headcanon is that one or more were killed by the occupiers

Morwen does teach Niënor what she can, they are all but trapped in that house for nearly two decades. There is certainly time for information to be passed down; I headcanon that she is taught both the Bëorian and Hadorian kinds of Taliska, songs and poems and stories that she can do nothing with and that Morwen knows she will almost certainly not be able to pass on.

Also!! This will need its own post and I will make it later but all of this is stolen! Morwen sees that the language and culture of Húrin and Aerin is being lost just as her own was and she teaches what she can to her daughter, perhaps Aerin teaches her too when she can, and this is all lost when Glaurung takes her memory. Given that it was Glaurung who destroyed so much of Dorthonion and thus Bëorian traditions and culture, this feels especially pertinent.

Update: I made a post about this here

#the silmarillion #the children of húrin #morwen #Aerin #Sador #musing and meta #Niënor #word ran among them #and they saw her no more #occupation of hithlum #none but aerin knew where

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ukrfeminism · 2 years

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TW: femicide

“In England and Wales there are on average 23 recorded homicide-suicides each year – around two every month. The rate varies from year to year – between April 2010 and March 2011 there were 46 murder-suicides in England and Wales, while between April 2018 and March 2019 there were only 18 cases. The perpetrators are mostly men, the victims usually women. ‘Whatever official figure exists, I can promise you that’s an underestimation,’ says criminologist Jane Monckton Smith, professor of public protection at the University of Gloucestershire. She says that although the rate of domestic violence increased during lockdown, it’s too early to say whether there have been more murder-suicides during this period – the data isn’t in yet.

‘It would be reasonable to assume that the actual number, not necessarily the rate, of homicide-suicides will have increased [during lockdown],’ says Dr Sandra Flynn, lecturer in psychology and mental health at the University of Manchester. ‘The proportion of homicide offences where the person took their own life is on average 4.75 per cent over the past decade. Therefore, if homicide (rather than domestic violence) has increased during lockdown, the number of homicide-suicides is likely to follow the same trend.’

According to an overview of studies carried out in 2011, the rate of murder-suicide in Europe has ranged from 0.05 per 100,000 people per year in England and Wales and the Netherlands to 0.2 per 100,000 per year in Finland – four times as many. In America, the rate is higher, varying from 0.27 in Kentucky to 0.38 in central Virginia (per 100,000 people per year).”

Soon after her 40th birthday, Kelly Fitzgibbons started to make a list of all the things she wanted to do before she turned 50. Some of her dreams were lavish, such as a trip on the Orient Express or taking her two young daughters to Disneyland, while others were more modest: joining a baking class, going to a drive-in cinema. But her bucket list wasn’t all about having fun. Her aspiration to get her silver donor card, a recognition that a person has given blood 25 times, was an indication of her compassionate, caring personality.

Yet she never got the chance to fulfil these ambitions. On 29 March 2020, three months after her 40th birthday, Kelly was found murdered – shot to death – at the house in Woodmancote, West Sussex, that she shared with her long-term partner, self-employed builder Robert Needham, 42. At the crime scene, the police also found the bodies of the couple’s two children, Ava, four, and Lexi, two, as well as the family dog. The culprit was Needham, who, after the killing spree, turned his shotgun on himself.

‘Kelly was a wonderful human being – she was warm, caring, funny and had such a contagious laugh; she lit up a room,’ says Kelly’s twin sister, Emma Ambler, 42. ‘She was a fantastic mother, dedicated and devoted, and her world revolved around her girls – it was the role she took most pride and pleasure in. Their deaths have caused so much destruction to everyone close to them.’

As the surviving relatives of the victims observe, with the crime of murder-suicide – or homicide-suicide, as it’s often described – there is no one to stand trial, and no justice for the living. Families and friends are often left in limbo, desperate for answers, fractured by shock, grief and anger.

One of the most common motivating factors in murder-suicides is the end of a relationship or the threat of separation. However, in the case of Kelly Fitzgibbons, the family appeared to be a happy one. ‘I still don’t have any idea why Rob did it, and the last time I spoke to the police they said they hadn’t found anything “significant”,’ says Emma.

Kelly was 26 and working as a legal secretary when friends introduced her to Rob, a good-looking man two years her senior. In April 2006, Kelly moved into the house of one of her best friends, Kerri Harris, whom she’d known since secondary school. ‘I was with her and Rob a lot in those early months; it was obvious that Rob doted on Kelly,’ says Kerri, 41, who lives with her husband Steve, 47, and daughter Gracie, nine, in Southwick, near Portsmouth. ‘He’d do little things to surprise her and they always seemed like a really good match. Over the years, she was the social secretary of our group. She always wanted to try new things, and go to new places. Rob was quite quiet, not outgoing, the opposite to Kelly in lots of ways. But he had friends from school and mates who were in the same line of work – he certainly wasn’t a loner.

‘I would have been 14 and Kelly 15 when we first met at Bourne Community College in Southbourne. It was an almost immediate friendship. Kelly was really cheery, positive and happy. She was very sociable, not in the sense of wanting to be the centre of attention, but she liked being around people. She had a big, warm smile and you could hear her laugh miles away. We were friends from our teenage years through our 20s and 30s.’

In August 2015, Kelly and Rob had a daughter, Ava, and two years later Lexi was born. In 2017, the couple moved into the large detached house owned by Needham’s mother, Maureen, in Woodmancote, so as to keep an eye on her after his father’s death. Needham embarked on an extensive renovation project, and the family lived in a converted self-contained space with two bedrooms at the top of the house, and a kitchen and dining room on the ground floor. Kelly would do errands for Maureen.

Every so often, Kelly would meet up with Kerri and her daughter, Gracie. Needham was a keen fisherman and took up pheasant shooting, for which he was granted a gun licence. ‘But that didn’t worry anyone,’ says Kerri. ‘It wasn’t a big deal at the time.’ He was without a gun for a number of years, but in March 2020, a week before the murders and unknown to anyone else, he went out and bought a shotgun.

At home, all was seemingly normal, despite the anxieties of the first Covid lockdown. On Friday 27 March, Kelly posted a photo on her Facebook page captioned, ‘Our walk for the day,’ along with a love-heart emoji. Taken by Kelly, the picture shows Needham with the family dog, Billy, a Staffordshire bull terrier, and the two young girls walking through fields in the spring sunshine. At around teatime on the Saturday, Kerri received a message from Kelly in a group chat with a photograph of a climbing frame that Needham had erected in the garden, together with the words, ‘This should keep them busy,’ referring to Ava and Lexi.

That Saturday, Emma and Kelly talked via a video call. ‘Kelly was her normal, chatty self, and we spoke about lockdown and how weird it was knowing we couldn’t go out,’ she says. ‘Kelly chatted to my daughter, then I spoke to the girls – Ava showed me her marbles and Lexi was running around just being her lovely, noisy self.’

At around 9pm, Kelly and Rob ordered a Chinese meal. It was the last time anyone saw them alive.

By Sunday Emma had still not received a reply to a text she had sent on Saturday night. She started to message other friends, including Kerri, and family members, but there was no news of Kelly.

By this point, Emma was panicking. She was convinced something awful must have happened. ‘I said to my husband, “I know she’s not alive,” and he looked at me as if I was crazy,’ says Emma, who lives with her husband, Tom, 51, and two children in Birmingham. ‘But I had an instinct something was terribly wrong. I said, “I don’t know what it is, but I know I’ll never see her again.” I just knew. Perhaps it was a twin thing, that sense you know what your twin is feeling and thinking. We were so, so close.’

Emma lived 140 miles away from Kelly so she asked some relatives nearby to go to the house in Woodmancote. When the police arrived, they discovered the bodies of Kelly, Ava, Lexi and Needham, all of whom had died from shotgun wounds.

‘Emma called me to say that they were all dead,’ says Kerri. ‘To begin with, I assumed it was something like a gas leak. She rang back later and told me that it was looking like Rob had done it. I understood the words, but I couldn’t take them in. I just lost it and I went into shock. I was trying not to let my daughter see me like that. I didn’t sleep that night, and I couldn’t stop shaking for several days. I kept asking myself: how, why?’

In England and Wales there are on average 23 recorded homicide-suicides each year – around two every month. The rate varies from year to year – between April 2010 and March 2011 there were 46 murder-suicides in England and Wales, while between April 2018 and March 2019 there were only 18 cases. The perpetrators are mostly men, the victims usually women. ‘Whatever official figure exists, I can promise you that’s an underestimation,’ says criminologist Jane Monckton Smith, professor of public protection at the University of Gloucestershire. She says that although the rate of domestic violence increased during lockdown, it’s too early to say whether there have been more murder-suicides during this period – the data isn’t in yet.

At the end of last month, the bodies of British expats John Boyes, 64, and his wife, Kathryn, 65, were discovered at their home in Boudrac, south-west France. French police claim that Boyes beat his wife with a baseball bat and strangled her before he hanged himself in an outhouse – although his brother, Robert, 60, has questioned whether the deaths were a result of murder-suicide and is calling for a full investigation.

This is just the latest in a number of cases reported in the past 18 months. On 19 March 2021, Ken Flanagan, 26, murdered his mother, Karen McClean, 50, at her home in Newtownabbey, north of Belfast, before stabbing to death his girlfriend, Stacey Knell, 30, and then killing himself.

On 10 April 2021, the bodies of National Trust volunteers Jonathan Metcalf, 72, and his wife, Sally, 68, were found at their £500,000 home in Woodbridge, Suffolk. Sally died from compression of the neck, while Jonathan hanged himself.

On 4 May 2021, at the Majestic Hotel in Harrogate, 29-year-old childcare specialist Chenise Gregory was stabbed to death by her ex-partner Michael McGibbon, also 29, who then killed himself. A statement released by Chenise’s family said, ‘We’re heartbroken to learn that our beloved Chenise was lured to her death at the hands of her controlling and manipulative ex-boyfriend.’

On the morning of 18 June 2021, 23-year-old Gracie Spinks was tending her horse, Paddy, in a paddock in Duckmanton, Derbyshire, when she was attacked and murdered by a man who had stalked her. The police discovered the body of her killer, Michael Sellers, 35, in a nearby field.

According to research published in the journal Social Psychiatry and Psychiatric Epidemiology in 2016, a typical perpetrator is a 44-year-old white man, while the average victim is a 38-year-old woman. The study, which examined 60 cases of homicide-suicide in England and Wales, also concluded that nearly two-thirds of victims were in or had been in a relationship with their killer.

Knives or other sharp instruments were the most commonly used weapons in murder, while hanging was the most frequent method of suicide. The same study found that only 12 per cent of perpetrators are women. In May 2018, former Playboy model and author Stephanie Adams killed herself and her seven-year-old son, Vincent, after a reported custody battle.

‘Homicide-suicides are different in nature compared with cases of homicide only or suicide only, making them a unique form of lethal violence,’ says Dr Flynn, one of the authors of the 2016 study. ‘In these cases, individuals attribute blame both externally towards the victim, resulting in acts of outward violence and aggression, and also inwardly towards themselves, leading to suicide. While there are clear overlaps in the characteristics of homicide and suicide cases, it is the assimilation of both these behaviours that make this act so distinct.’

But what drives people to murder and then to suicide? ‘These men – because they’re mostly men – are controlling, possessive and jealous,’ says Professor Monckton Smith, author of the book In Control: Dangerous Relationships and How They End in Murder. ‘When they kill themselves as well as the victim, it’s a sense of, “I own you – whatever I do to myself, you’re coming with me. I’m not going to let you escape this.”’

For years, domestic homicides have often been regarded as spontaneous crimes of passion, a scenario that has little basis in reality. In truth, these killers, motivated by patterns of coercive control, spend weeks, sometimes months, planning the deaths. According to Professor Monckton Smith, there are steps that can be taken to prevent such murders – in her book she outlines the patterns of behaviour that she calls the ‘homicide timeline’. And, if you’re in a controlling relationship, you need to be aware of the warning signs.

‘If the man is possessive and controlling from the get-go, don’t see that as romantic, don’t see that as love,’ she says. ‘If you’re further down the line and you’re trapped in a relationship and your partner starts threatening suicide, be concerned because they intend to take you with them. I can’t put it any more starkly than that.’

The inquest into the deaths of Kelly Fitzgibbons and her family has been delayed four times; at the moment it’s scheduled for July 2022. Friends and family have racked their brains for clues, sifting through memories and past experiences, but the motivation for the murders remains a mystery.

As far as anyone knows, Kelly didn’t suffer from domestic abuse or coercive control. ‘And there was nothing to suggest that Kelly was thinking of leaving Rob,’ says Kerri. Could it have been financial pressures? While it’s true that, in October 2019, Needham’s building company was dissolved, the couple had bought a second home that they’d hoped to rent out. ‘My sister was working and it wasn’t like they suddenly didn’t have any money,’ says Emma.

Since the murders happened at the beginning of lockdown, some of the initial newspaper reports linked the deaths with Covid restrictions. ‘But Rob got the gun the week before lockdown and personally I don’t think it was anything to do with Covid,’ says Emma. ‘Normally, he’d work at weekends, but we know he didn’t that weekend, and instead spent time with the family. I wonder – because he’d made it a nice last day for them – whether it was all planned and premeditated.’

The only clue lies in Needham’s medical history. ‘We do know that Rob had suffered from depression in the past,’ says Emma, who works for the NHS as a commissioning manager of mental health services, and is aware that the majority of people with mental health issues do not go on to commit this kind of crime. ‘I think he made the awful decision that, because he wasn’t happy, his family should not be allowed to enjoy or even live their own lives.’

In the summer of 2021 Emma met with Jess Phillips, the Labour MP for Birmingham Yardley who included Kelly’s name in a list she read out in Parliament, detailing the 118 women killed by men between 11 March 2020 and 11 March 2021. ‘One of the issues I talked to her about was gun licences and the loopholes that exist in the law,’ says Emma. ‘It’s a difficult balance between individual rights and the safety of the general public, but if someone has had recurring depression or mental illness, or has been found to have lied on their initial application form, I don’t think they should be allowed to have a gun. It’s not as if they’re applying for a swimming pass – they’re applying for something that can kill.

‘Something needs to change because as we saw in the tragedy in Plymouth [in August 2021, 22-year-old Jake Davison shot and killed five people before turning the gun on himself] these horrific incidents are just going to keep happening. I knew absolutely nothing about gun licensing until I lost my sister, but I’ve been appalled and shocked by how many people in the UK hold a gun licence and how easy it is to obtain one. If Rob had never had access to such a deadly weapon, there may well have been a different outcome – he may have just taken his own life and not the lives of the whole family.’

To forge something positive out of the traumatic experience, Emma has founded the Kelly Fitzgibbons Foundation, which aims to provide help and support to families of those lost in similar circumstances. ‘If I hadn’t set up the charity, it would have been so easy to drown in grief, anger and negativity,’ she says. ‘We’d like the foundation to be a place that can provide all the information a family will need to get them through what is likely to be the worst time of their lives. It’s as if your life has suddenly turned into what feels like a TV drama.’

Kerri feels as if she’s been irretrievably changed by the murder of her close friend and her two young daughters. Whenever she’s doing something nice for her nine-year-old, like putting up a Christmas tree or wrapping a birthday present, she feels the loss particularly keenly, knowing that Kelly and her girls will never be able to experience such simple pleasures again.

‘I can’t get my head around the fact that Rob took away their futures, their lives,’ says Kerri. ‘Kelly did all these lovely things with her girls and wanted them to have the best start in life and to have all these wonderful memories. He ripped that away from them, and from all of us.’ She makes an effort to choke back the tears as she speaks. ‘I will never understand why he couldn’t have just taken his own life. Why did he have to take theirs too?’

National Domestic Abuse Helpline: 0808-2000 247; Samaritans: 116 123; kellyfitzgibbonsfoundation.org.

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oceaneducation · 1 year

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Trigger Warning TW: Story of a Survivor, Domestic Violence, Sexual Abuse There are moments in life that you never forget. One of them was when I first dialed “Nummer gegen Kummer”, a helpline for children and Youth. As many of you know, I am an advocate against domestic violence. I became interested in marine conservation when I met fishermen's wives in Peru in 2008 who were being abused by their husbands. What I'm writing about today for the first time: I myself am a survivor of domestic violence and sexual abuse in my childhood and youth. One of my resources at the time was the helpline “Nummer gegen Kummer" (“number against sorrow”). It must have been at school that I first heard about the number. One day, when I was home alone, I sat down on the stairs to the 1st floor so that I could always see the driveway. I nervously clutched the phone. I dialed the number, my whole body was shaking. I can still remember how much I cried and was relieved to have an adult just listening to me. I was also very afraid of being discovered during the calls. Since the calls are taken over by Deutsche Telekom and are anonymous, the telephone number does not appear on the bill. It was also a relief for me that the calls were free because I didn't have any pocket money. Until I moved out at the age of 19, I turned for help by dialing the “Nummer gegen Kummer”. From my experience I know how difficult it is to ask for support. I often thought to myself: "Is it even worth it? I have to do it alone!" But it's okay to reach out for support. Why didn't I ask anyone for help then? The culture of my family of origin played a major role in this, in which it was not proper to talk about private problems with outsiders. The racism I encountered growing up in Germany also made my trust in those around me crumble. So the number was my lifeline at a time when I was struggling to keep my head above water. Check out www.nummergegenkummer.de for more information. Growing up, I got to know another helpful counseling service: The "Violence against women" helpline caters specifically to women and girls: Bullying, stalking, forced marriage, rape or human trafficking - the "Violence against Women" help line provides advice on all forms of violence. Check out https://www.hilfetelefon.de/en.html. They provide help in 18 languages and more. Why am I telling you my story today? Because in the last few years I've remembered my WHY, why I started to stand up for women's rights: When I was a child, I swore to myself that when I reached adulthood, I would do my part to ensure that girls and women never again experienced violence. Every third woman in Germany is affected by sexual and/or physical violence. I don't want to hide behind anonymous statistics to take action against domestic and sexual violence. I myself am a survivor. I survived to speak about it. I survived to tell people about the help that saved me and that I wished I had had more of as a child. Today, at the age of 38, I can say: Thank you dear team of the “Nummer gegen Kummer” for your help. These counseling offers cannot replace therapy. But if it weren't for the positive experience I had with the advisors back then, I wouldn't have regained hope to work for marine conservation, women's rights and diversity. My goal is that in the future even more young people who are looking for help will have access to counseling services. Let's work together so that no call for help goes unheard! So feel free to share and spread the word. Thank you! #support #womensrights #MentalHealth #MentalHealthAwareness #Therapy #grief #domesticviolence #survivor #abuse #believesurvivors #orangeyourcity #orangetheworld #orangeday #16days #humanrights #unwomen #femalepower #gender #equality #noviolence #endgbv #violenceagainstwomen #EndViolenceAgainstWomen #international #girls #women #metoo #femaleempowerment #feminism

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graysongoal · 1 month

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If you've known me for really any length of time, it's quite likely that you've heard me talk about my best friend Katy.

We had a class together in our sophomore year of college. I remember thinking how cool she was and how much I wanted to be her friend.

Cut to senior year, and I'd succeeded! We lived together on campus, having regular dance parties, supporting each other through the swine flu, and helping each other stay awake during all-nighters.

Through heavy depression, transitioning, and cutting contact with my abusive mother, she has always been there for me.

And she’s been going through it over the last year.

She’s had to flee the home she owns for her safety, spending money both on trying to keep the home her ex is squatting in and keeping herself safe. It’s been unsustainable for a long time, but especially now after 250 days

Breaking free from abusers is one of the hardest things someone can do, and it shouldn’t have to cost everything she has and more.

Please join me in uplifting Katy, whether that’s offering in-kind support, sharing her story, or donating to her GoFundMe campaign. Every share & donation, no matter how big or small, makes a difference in helping her rebuild her life and continue the legal fight against her ex.

Because everyone should be able to break free from the cycle of abuse and rebuild a life filled with safety, dignity, and hope — but especially someone who has done so much to help others going through abuse and domestic violence.

You can find more links to share across social media below: https://www.chronicsex.org/2024/03/help-a-dv-victim-fight-back/

#dv #domestic violence #abuse #domestic abuse #help

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serialreporter · 1 year

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PART TWO. (the hunting trip. aka the meat of the story.)

notable content warnings for:

more domestic abuse

more alcoholism

physical violence

murder, stabbing, blood, knives, yadayadayada.

this section of the story may be particularly upsetting. do read with caution friends. ilu.

summary for ppl who decide not to read:

danny's dad takes him on a hunting trip one weekend after graduation. after getting into an argument that escalates into more physical violence, danny impulsively murders his father. after realizing what he did, he gets rid of the evidence and calls the police, stating that a masked killer came into their cabin and attacked his dad. he miraculously gets away with it and his mother later shows up and takes him in, offering to pay his way to college.

to survive, danny became more reserved. started leaning into his charisma again. he 'became' that model student, threw himself into his studies and went along with what his father wanted. it was easier that way. by his junior and senior year, his relationship with his dad seemed to 'improve'. he became more careful with the things about himself that he shared with his dad, as his love for horror stories & creative writing never truly went away. his dad seemed satisfied with the excuse that he 'was just studying for school and trying to get ahead of the game'. and chilled out a bit.

what his father didn't know was that danny was definitely too far gone by this point. the years of trauma, abuse, neglect, and death of innocence and hope within him with no way to express these ANY of these feelings or healthily unpack it all would lead to a cesspool of fucked up issues for danny. he just needed that tipping point. the straw that'd break the camel's back. and one day, it came.

a hunting trip. meant to celebrate his drafting for the military and his graduation. they went away for the weekend, traveled into the mountains. it started out fine, at least for the first two nights. that sunday evening however, would change everything. as once again his father brought out the alcohol, despite having promised danny that he wouldn't bring any with him for this trip. coming back to the cabin they'd been staying at and finding his dad already tipsy, it would lead to an argument breaking out between them which soon turned physical. danny did try to fight back, but ultimately lost in the power struggle and was severely beaten. after hurling a bunch of insults at his son, danny's father stormed off to his room and left danny to pick himself up.

he sat there in the cabin's den for hours, crying. seething. pretty much having an entire mental spiral while his dad was passed out drunk in the next room. at some point, he noticed something somewhat tucked away behind some clutter in the dim cabin light. the sight unnerved him to his core, and all he could do was just stare at it, paralyzed, for several long minutes, until eventually the realization hit. it was a prop. some kind of mask, probably left over from the last family that stayed here. maybe it was used for a prank or something, he didn't know. but as he stared, it was as if the clouds were slowly parting, revealing cold moonlight that shone down upon him. these events were the makings of the perfect horror story.

the next several moments were a blur to danny. he remembers grabbing the mask, throwing on an old black hoodie he'd found in one of the bedroom closets. he remembers standing at the doorway to his father's bedroom, his father's hunting knife in hand. he remembers the bastard snoring away, he remembers softly calling the man's name, waking him from his slumber. the man, still drowsy and not entirely sober yet, mistook danny's voice for his mother's, which was enough to intrigue him into getting up and stumble out into the den. with all but one light left on, his father called her name, confused. then he turned, noticing a figure stood in the shadowed hallway. he only had a few seconds to process the bleach-white mask staring back at him before the figure suddenly pounced with breathtaking speed. tumbling to the floor, nothing but screams of agony could be heard from the isolated cabin as danny's father was stabbed to death, this ghost-like figure executing him with lethally practiced strikes.

when it was over. when danny finally snapped out of it, and the reality of what he'd done sank in... he couldn't describe what he'd felt. it was a high like no other, like he'd just rode a rollercoaster for the first time in his life. and sitting there next to his father's bloodied corpse, that mask haphazardly hanging off his face, all he could do was just tremble, with occasional quiet fits of nervous laughter. holy shit. he just killed his dad. his dad is dead. he killed him.

he didn't really... think, for the next several minutes. they are spent walking out into the woods, stripping down and throwing his blood soaked clothes onto the campfire, burning the evidence that would mark him guilty. as for that mask... he disposes of that too. as much as it pained him to, he couldn't be caught with it. not now. but the idea it'd given him... it'd stick in his mind as he changed into a pair of pajamas he'd packed. now, the tricky part. mustering every ounce of terrified young man who just witnessed the brutal murder of his father energy he could, danny picked up the phone and dialed 911.

it takes about a half hour for the authorities to arrive. by that point, the emotional crash had come over him, and after some gentle coaxing from one of the several police officers, an older gentleman with kind eyes, they had him sat down on the porch with a blanket over his shoulders, sobbing his eyes out while the rest of the task force scoured the area with their k9 unit for a supposed masked killer. it was the first time in ages where he had a real, raw cry. and the police officer that initially found him kept an arm around his shoulder, comforting him as he grieved the loss of his dad. they drove him to the police station that early morning while they continued to investigate the crime scene, danny recalled the story of a boy fresh out of high school that hid in a closet as his dad was stabbed to death. soon, headlines about a masked murderer spread. his mother drove all the way out to stay with him, it was the first time he'd seen her in years. he could be happy to see her, or he could be appalled that she'd even bother with showing up after all this time. and yet, all he could think about was the impact this story had. the whispers of people in town, the news articles that'd come out, the news stations that just couldn't shut up. and this supposed killer was still at large. the public was absolutely terrified. danny was absolutely invigorated.

while investigators did suspect danny as guilty of this crime, they didn't have strong enough evidence, and his act was very convincing. and with his mother vouching for him, he was pretty much cleared of suspicion. it wasn't long before a funeral was held for his father, and later danny went to stay with his mom. she was very emotional the entire time, like the dam that held all of her guilt for abandoning her child with that awful man had finally burst. apologies and frantic declarations that she will be there for him as long as he needed her was thrown danny's way, and he was oddly calm. happy, even. this seemed to relieve his mother greatly, though she still felt a great amount of guilt. she promised to help him get into college, make up for lost time with her son. start a brighter future for him in life. and bright that future was.

#🔪 ( headcanons. )#.priv post

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milliedazzledust · 3 years

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After The Storm Comes Sunshine (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Request: bucky fic where the reader and bucky had a huge fight about zemo making bucky act like the winter soldier. Bucky thinks that she doesn't believe he can resist going back to his old ways and its very angsty but a bit fluffy in the end

bucky x fem!reader where the two are a couple and then they get in a fight, he loses his temper, hits a wall and like scares the shit out of her

Words: 3710 words

Warnings!!!: domestic violence - mental illness

A/N: this was definitely harder than I thought it'd be to write this. Also, first time I've experienced emotional exhaustion over a story - as always don't hesitate to like/share/comment, I hope you'll like it!

She hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings, or make him doubt her trust. She hadn’t meant for things to escalade this quickly. They were supposed to be a united front, allies forever and always having each others back. Not strangers on the verge of breaking apart.

“I don’t know what you want to say”

She was purposely trying to keep her voice steady, to avoid the fight she knew would inevitably come. Two thousand feet above the ground in a plane was no place for the heavy conversation he was determined to have.

“I want you to stop lying to me”

“I’ve never lied to you, Bucky”

She was acutely aware they were not alone. Despite the low tone of their voices, there was no doubt Sam and Zemo could hear them.

They had just gotten out of Madripoor, with valuable intel that was leading them to Riga. On paper, the mission had been a success despite a few mishaps. In reality, the few hours they had spent inside the secret city had been torture for both Bucky and Y/N.

The Sergeant had had the perfect cover, impersonating the assassin he had once been almost too easily. Y/N had silently watched him turn into his old self, a man deprived of any emotions. And while she knew it was just an act, she couldn’t help but be anxious. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, the Winter Soldier felt like second skin to him. The way he could flip the switch on and off at will scared her. Not because of what he was capable of doing, but rather because of what she could see in his eyes. For a moment he was back in survival mode, watching the world through broken glass. Any sounds or movements could trigger a violent response, as if he was suddenly disconnected, his brain wired only to fight.

“I’m not mad, Bucky” She spoke in a soft voice, hoping to appease him. “I’m not upset, or tired. I’m not annoyed, and I’m not ignoring you. If I had something to say, I’d talk to you”

He made no point in hiding the fact he didn’t believe her. Silently sitting back in his chair, he pursed his lips to keep himself from saying something he would regret later and took the small towel Sam gave him to wipe out the blood off his metal hand. She was staring intensely, following his actions, which didn’t go unnoticed. He was slowly getting upset, interpreting her words for something they were not, projecting his own insecurities and fear on her, which could only fuel his anger.

None of them spoke throughout the rest of the flight. Even as they settled in Zemo’s apartment, they avoided any interaction. The tension between them was building rapidly, almost palpable and ready to be set on fire. They were all sitting on the couch, talking about Karli and the Flag Smashers. They had just learned that a supply depot was bombed by the extremist organization. All they needed now was a plan of action.

“I have the will to complete this mission” Zemo told them. “Do the three of you ?”

“Are you asking if we’re willing to kill a kid ?” Y/N snarked back. “Is it really necessary to remind you not all of us are criminals ?”

“I bet your government would beg to differ” He smirked. “Especially when it comes to you and your former assassin of a boyfriend”

“Choose your next words carefully” The woman threatened him.

She turned to Sam, exasperation evident on her face.

“Can we give him to the Wakandans now ?” She complained.

“And give up your tour guide ?” Zemo laughed.

“Gladly. It’s either that or I’ll murder you in your sleep”

“Nobody is killing anyone” Sam calmed them down, bringing back a sense of peace in the room. “Let’s just find where Karli is”

Throughout the whole conversation, Bucky didn't say much. He quietly sat back and listened, lost in his own thoughts. Y/N rubbed her fingers over his arm, gaining his attention. He softly laid a kiss on her forehead but remained in the same position, palms crossed on his lap. He looked stressed, his hair was extra messy where he had probably been running his hands through it a lot, and his gaze was miles away from her.

“Maybe you should sit this one out” Y/N suggested, leaning against him.

“What ?” He answered in surprise, staring down at her.

“You don’t look alright,” She confessed. “It’s… I’m starting to get worried”

“Of course you are” He rolled his eyes. He suddenly got up, needing to put some distance between them to keep his temper in check. He couldn’t understand why he was starting to get so mad at her.

She followed him in the kitchen as he poured himself a drink, their company long forgotten now. “Is there something wrong ?”

“Why would there be something wrong ?” He replied with teeth clenched. “All of this is just… perfect” He really was trying to hold back his rage.

“Don’t start, Bucky” She warned her lover.

“Don’t start what ?!”

“Can you just …” She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“What ? Stay back because you think I’m incapable of controlling myself ?” He quirked a brow, raising his voice.

“Do you really need an audience for that ?”

He didn’t even acknowledge Zemo or Sam’s presence. He didn’t care. His exasperation was building up and he was glad he and Y/N were on opposite sides of the kitchen table.

“You want to talk ? Okay - let’s talk” She conceded, bracing herself for the harsh conversation they were about to have. “What’s going on with you ?”

“With me ?” He repeated, clearly upset. “I’m not the one with trust issues, Y/N”

“What is that supposed to mean ?” She breathed, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Don’t play coy with me” He let out a disgusted laugh. “I know you think I’m weak, I know you think I’m nothing more than… him” For a second his voice broke but he was quick to regain control.

She looked over the table with slight astonishment, taken aback by his words.

“You don’t think I can resist it, do you ?” He whispered, clenching his jaw to keep his emotions at bay.

“Where is this coming from, Buck?” She mumbled incredulously, stunned by the unexpectedness of this situation. “You know that’s not true, I’ve never …”

“Stop lying!” He yelled, making her flinch in the process.

Something was definitely wrong, somehow she could feel it. Irrational anger was building in the pit of his stomach and he was close to losing touch with reality, believing whatever lies his demons were creating in his mind. His brain had suddenly started running a mile and hour, unknowingly stealing his sanity in its frenzy, while his anxiety kept being magnified, so loud it was getting hard to hear himself think clearly.

“I’ve seen the way you looked at me back there” He was spitting venom. “You were waiting for the moment I would blow up”

“No, no! That’s not true,” She promised, shaking her head. Her voice was so small and her face tight with worry.

He rapidly closed the distance between them, moving like a predator ready to close a trap of its prey. When finally he was in front of her, she couldn’t help but feel vulnerable, at his mercy. She found herself stuck with her back against the wall. She couldn’t move or escape him.

“Oh c’mon, admit it Y/N!” He threw his hands up in exasperation and shouted almost hysterically. “You’re waiting for him to come back, you’re waiting for powerless words to trigger me and turn me back into a monster! Because this is all I am, right ? All I ever was to you ! A broken record you can’t fix ! One more fucking lost cause you keep carrying around, too weak to fight back !”

She opened and closed her mouth, at a loss for words, hurt by the violence behind each of his sentences. She hadn’t noticed Sam had gotten off the couch when their conversation had turned into a confrontation. He warily stood close, ready to step in.

“Okay, buddy” He interrupted his friend, trying to calm him down. “That’s enough”

It wasn’t a suggestion, or even a warning. He was silently giving him the order to back off.

“It’s alright, Sam. Let him speak” Her eyes didn’t leave the man she loved as she talked. She could already feel the tears on her face and the ache in her heart as she watched him explode in a fireworks of emotions.

“I wish I could turn it all off, turn you off!” He yelled, pointed a finger in accusation at her as enraged words poured out of his mouth. “Make you disappear so I won’t have to see disappointment on your face anymore, because despite how hard I try, it’s never enough for you!”

His voice rang with authority and menace. She swallowed the lump in her throat, taking the hits in silence, wiping traitor's tears away. He sounded deadly, so much that her stomach clenched in fear for the first time.

“I know you’re angry, but…”

She saw the changes, the reaction to her statement, realizing instantly when he switched from rage to pure hatred. His body suddenly stiffened as his face radiated danger.

“I’m not angry!” He snapped, shouting so loud she thought for a moment he was about to hit her. “I’m in pain!”

She held her breath, waiting for the blow. Her eyes involuntarily shut, unable to watch the display of violence. She flinched when she heard the crash echoing next to her ear but never felt the power of his metal arm. He had hit the wall next to her with so much strength there was a hole. She whimpered and looked at the scene, then at him, shocked. His jaw was tight, his pupils dilated and he was breathing hard. He tried to take a step toward her, but he stumbled, almost fell. She stood there, frozen on the spot, eyes wide opened.

This was a scream from deep within that forced its way from his brain to his hands, as if his soul had unleashed one of his demons. It was safer, easier to choose violence. To choose the Winter Soldier. This was a truth he would never admit to himself, how much this outburst had everything to do with sadness disguised in anger and scars that just wouldn’t heal.

“Bucky, get away from her!” Sam reacted quickly, interposing himself directly between them. His tone had lost its calm but not its power.

“I… I didn’t mean to… I… I wasn’t going to…” The Sergeant stuttered, keeping his eyes on the woman he had almost wounded.

She wasn’t listening, she couldn’t. She was shivering like a leaf, arms up in defense in a desperate need to protect herself.

“Y/N…” He called in a small, broken voice. He tried to reach for her but she coiled back.

“Bucky, please” Sam called again with more force this time. “Go outside, walk it out”

The man took his gaze away from his girlfriend, looking at his friend with desperation.

“I wasn’t going to…” He started to explain but had to stop. He couldn’t breath, couldn’t think after what he had just done. “I would never hurt her, Sam”

“I know, Buck” He nodded, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know, but I need you to leave”

He averted his eyes once again toward the woman he loved.

“I got her,” Sam promised. “Go.”

The moment he disappeared, Y/N collapsed on the ground. Her whole body seemed to have grown cold and when her vision became blurry, she realized she was about to lose it. A hand above her mouth to quieten the frightened cry threatening to escape her lips, she tried to take a deep breath. She felt lost, crushed even. She was used to violence, but not like this, not by someone she loved and trusted.

Sam sat next to her after a quick check up, gently leaning her head against his shoulder. “It’s gonna be alright, Y/N/N”

“I’m sorry we made a scene” Her voice was barely a whisper. She was still in shock.

He chuckled. “Are you kidding me ? Shit was getting boring out here”

He knew she would be okay when he saw a small smile on her face.

“I need to ask you something, Y/N/N. Something personal” He hesitated for a short moment.

She raised her head but didn’t talk, waiting for him to continue.

“Has he ever lost his temper with you before ?” He was dead serious and looked awfully worried. “Has he ever …”

“Hurt me ?” She finished.

“Yeah…”

“No. He’d never do that, Sam”

“Good” He chose to believe her. “Because super soldier or not, I would kick his ass if he ever tried to lay a finger on you”

He knew Bucky would never forgive himself if anything happened to her because of him, he loved her too much for that, but he was also aware that a broken soldier could easily become a deadly threat.

“What do you need me to do?” He asked his friend.

“Go finish the mission, take him with you” She muttered. “Make sure he’s alright”

He didn’t want to leave but the woman was stubborn. She wouldn’t give him the choice. So instead, he settled to carry her shaken body to the couch. She was unable to stop her body from shivering, the trauma was far too recent.

“Are you sure… ?” He questioned her once again, not liking the idea of letting her by herself in this state.

“Go, Sam. I’ll be fine”

He sighed and kissed her forehead before leaving. Zemo was still in the room, watching from afar with a curious interest. He hadn’t hushered a word, but as Sam left the apartment, he walked toward the woman and quietly set a tray with a cup of tea on the table in front of her.

“Cherry blossom tea,” He explained, gesturing to the hot beverage. “It had… soothing properties, it’ll help calm your nerves”

She looked up in surprise as he offered her a small smile and started to follow Sam. He stopped once he was by the door, turning once again toward the woman.

“If I may,” He caught her attention, glancing at the hole the angry man had made moments ago. “He chose to hit my wall, even at the peak of his rage. The soldier he once was would’ve never hesitated to choose you” And with that he was gone.

She stayed sitting there for a while before deciding a shower would help, but even the hot water was useless to calm her nerves. She felt terrible, all she could see in her mind was his devastated face when he kept repeating he wouldn’t hurt her. Her head was throbbing, her whole body aching, and the tears couldn’t stop falling. She was numb, she needed him.

She took one of his T-shirts out of his bag and pressed it against her face, inhaling deeply. A little whimper left her lips because it smelt like him. Like home. She slipped it over her head and climbed into their bed, hugging herself tightly. She somehow felt guilty, like it was her fault, like she could have prevented it from happening. This was a loop in her mind, running over and over and over again, the same words he had spoken ‘I’m not angry, I’m in pain’ - How could she not have seen it before ?

She laid there for the rest of the day, tired yet unable to sleep. Her thoughts were too loud to ignore, too painful to shut down, and the bed felt empty without him. She brought her knees up to her chest, letting the torrent of her tears soak through his shirt, and clenched her fists, not knowing whether to be mad or just sad.

She hadn’t even noticed Bucky was back, standing behind her against the door frame, his heart breaking at the sound of her distress. Too scared to come closer, he stayed back and listened to her cries, letting his own tears fall down.

He pursed his lips and swallowed his apology. His broken pieces were scattered all over his mind and he couldn’t think straight. The constant memory of his hand breaking that wall kept playing in his head, not because of the violence of that action, but because of the fear he had seen on her face, the pain he had been able to read through her eyes. He felt sick just thinking of the damages he could have done. No matter what she would say, he would never forgive himself.

“I’m sorry” He chose to be the first to break the heavy silence.

He moved toward her and sat on the side of the bed, facing her. His arm slid around her waist, something he had a habit of doing, but she flinched. It was a pure reflex, a defense mechanism, and she knew the action had deeply hurt him when he coiled back. Her eyes refused to meet his, instead she chose to stare blankly into the dark space of their room. He sat with his hands on his lap, not daring to move a muscle. They were next to each other but miles apart, almost turning into strangers once again.

“Y/N…”

“Don’t”

“If I could take it all back…”

“Don’t speak” She cut him.

Her heart sank and her stomach tightened when she took a quick glance at him. He looked terrible. His blue eyes appeared weathered, like he had aged another hundred years in the course of a day. His hair was disheveled and his stare had something haunting. It bothered her, it was almost like she could finally see the shadow of his demons hidden underneath, only visible when the man was on the verge of breaking apart.

“I’m fine” She reassured him.

“But I’m not” He was closely studying her face, like she would get up and disappear in a second if he dared to move.

She grabbed his hand, this time surprising him, and dragged him on the bed with her. They laid there for a moment, appreciating the proximity, silently rediscovering comfort in each others presence, until Y/N absently started playing with his fingers. It was only a distraction to appease her nerves, but he enjoyed the serenity brought by that simple physical touch.

“It was never a question of trust, Buck. You’ve got to know that” She whispered. “I’m not scared of you”

“I’m not sure I believe that”

She waited a moment to collect her thoughts before she spoke again.

“You’re right, you shouldn’t. That’s a lie” She admitted. She refused to look at him but had his undivided attention. “If you really want the truth - the ugly, painful truth - then yes, I’ll admit I’m terrified. But it was never of you”

She stopped her movements and entwined her hand with his metal one, bringing it close to her heart.

“We both know it’s still here, somewhere too deep for us to see. Roots of what they did to you” Her voice was quiet, barely a whisper, almost as if the words would hurt more if they were spoken too loud. “We both know he’s gone into hiding but never really left you. And even though the words hold no power anymore, those tiny breaks they carved into you are still there. Wide open. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of him when you talk in your sleep, or when your eyes suddenly turn too cold. Sometimes… sometimes I feel his hands, and not yours”

A single tear rolled down her cheek as she felt him squeeze her fingers. Still, she didn’t look at him. She wouldn’t bear to see the pain on his face, the hurt brought by the power of her sincerity.

“It feels like you’re drowning, about to take that last breath that will let all the water in. I see you struggling every day, Buck, trying to learn how to live without him. And it’s what he represents that terrifies me”

“Why ?” He muttered.

“Because he’s your familiarity. No matter how much you don’t want to admit that, he’s everything you’ve ever known. This life we gave you back is terrifying, to a point none of us will ever understand. So, I’m worried you’ll get overwhelmed and finally give in to him. Because that’s when it’ll stop hurting, that’s when it won’t be so scary anymore. He’ll be here to dull your pain, make you forget there was ever a choice to make. He’ll create a false sense of peace to cage you in, and I am no match against the power he still holds over you”

“I can resist it. I’m not weak, Y/N” He only answered.

“Never said you were. It takes a special kind of strength to wake up every single day and go fight an invisible battle with an enemy only you can see. That’s not what I’m getting at, Buck”

“Then what are you saying ?”

“I’m saying if you want to heal, you have to stop pretending it doesn’t hurt” She said. “Stop pretending he’s gone”

“What if I do that and he takes over ?” He whispered, voice strangled by tears waiting to be shed. “What if I hurt you ?”

This time she turned on her side to face him.

“You mean what if he hurts me ?” She corrected him.

“Same difference”

“Not to me”

She gently brushed a finger over his face and he closed his eyes, enjoying the soft touch. She moved closer to him, laying her forehead against his temple. He took the opportunity to slide an arm around her waist, almost bringing her body on his chest.

“We’ll get him out” She promised. “One day the Winter Soldier will only be a distant memory”

“How can you be so sure ?”

“I have faith in you”

“I don’t”

She chuckled.

“That’s alright” She conceded, laying her head on his shoulder. “Until then, you’ll just have to trust me.”

Tag list below the cut

@fangirllife98 - @shamelessfangirl-3 - @stolenxkissess - @slut-for-bucky-barnes - @tylard-blog1

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier imagine #the winter soldier imagines #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier imagines #fatws #tfatws

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akumaalert · 3 years

Note

not a request just sharing bc i couldn't stop thinking of just "what if lucky called heis good boy" like how he calls her good girl sometimes but like.. i'm pretty sure he would break

This was supposed to be a mini-fic....but...uh....it'll likely be the first chapter of "Divergence" instead LMAO But hope you enjoy!

Good Boy

Karl Heisenberg x Reader, Explicit

CW: Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism, Voyeurism, Happy Ending, Virgin!Karl Heisenberg

An AU happening during chapter 19 of "Heavy Metal Lover" but can be read without reading the main story.

"Unfh..."

That had been the first noise from Lucky besides the scratch of a pencil against paper that he had heard in about an hour.

Stuck in his office with her as he searched for a misplaced - not lost, just misplaced! - core schematic, Heisenberg tried to ignore the nagging thought of how domestic the space had become. Lucky never moved his things - something he was infinitely grateful for. He could recall too well his ever boiling frustration at having his room "cleaned" when living in the castle. The maids were well-meaning, but always adjusting. The room he had held would have felt more his own had he been able to move his own furniture around without the chambermaids fawning over him.

"No, no, young Lord Heisenberg! This is all wrong...off you go...go play...we will fix this mess."

Now on his own and in his element of chaos, he felt comforted, even if secretly so, that Lucky never seemed to complain.

Comforted...but cautious.

The day at the stronghold seemed stamped into his memory...right in the front for all to see. It remained a wonder Lucky didn't see it on his face.

The knowledge.

The horrible, horrible knowledge.

Love.

Staring at an old newspaper clip-out that he had saved with a picture of a modern car on its faded pages, he absently pushed the glasses back up his nose.

It tired him - the constant need to flip back and forth between acknowledging his feelings and thrusting them as far down as he could manage. Drowning them out with that beautiful sound of cinching machinery. Allowing them to seep into him with every laugh from her lips.

Heisenberg was starting to fall in love with the woman. The woman he had failed to kill - the lucky one to survive his maze. The woman his mother expected him to impregnate in order for Miranda's mad vessel to be born and to be killed all in the name of misery.

Misery otherwise known as Eva.

Slowly but certainly, Lucky was driving him insane. Reminding him of things he could never, ever have. Teasing him over and over for days on end.

Heisenberg remembered all too well his reason for entering the office. He had nearly sliced his own arm clean off his shoulder when he lost himself to his situation. To the possibility that, despite his body being so ill-suited for the task, Lucky could have his child. Would want his child. His thoughts, as they so often did, snapped back to the need for freedom - for the need for the arms to come loose from his latest corpse to transform them into one of his many soldiers.

But the more he thought of freedom, the more she sat in the background of his mind.

The more she sat there, the more his tired musings began to stitch together.

The more freedom and Lucky - the two dreams of his world - became intertwined.

He had been thinking of her - of Lucky - beside him the day that he won freedom from the village.

Won freedom...and her.

"You did it, Heis! You did it!"

Lucky would never know how dear it was to him...the fact that her emotions ran so freely with her very being. Beaming. She would do nothing less than beam at him. Her eyes would glow and crinkle at their tails as they did when she gave him her most genuine smiles.

"You did it. You're free. Our...our family is free."

"...family?"

She would grab his hand. Just one. He needed the other steady on her cheek.

Lucky would bring that hand clasped in her own to her belly.

"Our family..."

"Our...another...another Heisenberg?"

In his dreams, she shyly escaped his gaze to nod.

"You...you haven't been alone. Not with me. Not with the start of our family. But now...now, Heis..." Her eyes popped back up all soft and sincere. "Now you'll never be alone again. Not with our baby Heisenberg on the way..."

The only break from his reverie was the slice to one of his favorite stained t-shirts. Only the fact that it was Heisenberg's powers directing the saw had it falling to the floor instead of through his tensed skin.

Heisenberg could only stand in shocked silence. The arm that had been spared from the violence came to grab his shoulder. Though no injury had occurred, he felt stabbed all the same.

Family...and joy?

Lucky...with him?

Another Heisenberg...alive?

A thought washed over him like ice entering his veins.

A boy or a girl...would we have a boy or a girl first?

First.

As if Lucky wished to be objected to more of his perverted and preposterous daydreams.

When he left the room, the metal was still shaking.

"Gotta get that fucking schematic...keep forgetting it...keep going to the office and...fuck...keep talking to her. Gotta stop fucking talking to her. Schematic. Get the fucking schematic."

Lucky had been asleep in bed when he first entered. A rushing relief to his soul. But as the search for the schematic went from flipping through one file to frantically reshuffling the wayward stack the paper should have been in, he knew it was only a matter of time before she would appear.

"Oh...ah!" Lucky yawned all cute and squeaky. "Good morning, Heis."

"Morning," he said flatly. "You...you move any of these lately?"

"No," she said sleepily. "I don't touch those...way above my pay grade. What are you looking for?"

"Core schematic," he grumbled. "Not fucking here...where the hell did I put it?"

Though Lucky made a very pointless questioning noise, she said nothing as she sat down and began her daily transcriptions. Hell, he had been grateful. She showed concern because she was simply a good person beneath all of the trauma and the terror she had reigned on his self-image. But she didn't pry or attempt to enter his space afterward where she would clearly only be in the way.

But that was before her second moan filled the office.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, never looking up from his stack of papers.

A frustrated sigh and a grumble came from the desk chair.

"Think I slept on my neck funny last night," she said. "Doesn't help that my posture is shit. Just making it impossible to find a good angle to work in."

Growing agitated at his fruitless search, Heisenberg whipped around to look at her. "Want some help?"

"Mmn?"

"Want a massage or something?" he offered. "A...ha! You'll find this funny. Supersized one up in the castle? Used to love to make me massage her neck when I was a kid. Fucking manual labor when I was barely old enough to write. Had maids to do it - an assload at that - and forced me to instead."

Raising an eyebrow at him, Lucky frowned. "Was it...did she...did she hurt you? Like...if you didn't do it?"

"Ah nah," he said, taking careful steps over to Lucky. "Told you...when I was a kid, I was off limits. I whine about it now...but...well...I was a kid. Bitch loves kids. So I had to massage her back...but only part of this stupid salon thing we used to do together. It was nothing. Stupid. Just like her."

He did not know what to make of Lucky's face. Tilting her head, she steadied a look on him that could only be called curious.

"It's...it's a good memory? Of Alcina when you were small?"

Heisenberg scoffed.

"It's a memory," he said, standing behind Lucky with a wide stance and an even wider stare at her neck. "Not good or bad...just...there. Now...where's it hurt, kid?"

Raising a hand, Lucky placed her fingers on a section of her neck before swirling her touch.

"Ah...there...like just this one spot, but fanning out..."

"Okay...looks like your C7."

"My what now?"

Chuckling, Heisenberg moved her hand out of the way. "Your C7 vertebrae. Duck your chin down so I can get in here properly."

Doing as she was told, Lucky's head moved forward and Heisenberg placed his gloved hands against her neck. His thumbs encased the pained area and began to move in slow yet sturdy circles.

Lucky immediately began squirming.

"Can you maybe try without the gloves?" she asked. "Those are like...rough or something."

Casting off his gloves quickly, Heisenberg rolled his shoulders before trying again. "Wah, wah, wah...doing you a favor and you're out here complaining. That better, your highness?"

"Yes, actually," she said, relaxing. "And thank you. Asshole."

Puffing air out of his mouth, Heisenberg merely shook his head as he kneaded her skin.

"Mmn!"

Heisenberg tried to hide his stillness by immediately starting to massage her skin again.

But the noise could not be ignored.

"What was that?"

"Your hands...they're so warm. Fuck...feels good."

"Oh..." he said dumbly. Blinking down at her, he turned his head away as he kept his fingers in motion.

The fact that his cock had begun to waken in his pants was not lost on him.

"Are you using your electric powers? Is that why it feels so good?"

"Nah...really shouldn't do that on the living above the waist."

Above the waist...but below the waist...

"Ah," he continued, running his teeth over the scar on his lower lip. "Cause of the heart or whatever. Probably your brain too from this angle. Could fry both without meaning to. And I was working...earlier. Probably why they feel hot."

Lucky sighed as he continued to work her neck. His fingers were sweeping but slow. He had started off so intently and so rough. What had happened?

I felt her skin. Felt her beneath me. Felt her neck...for all she knows I could snap it right now and instead of being afraid she's welcoming me...she trusts me...trusts me enough to let me do this...

The next round of his fingers on her neck dipped into skin purposeful in their worship.

Her response was immediate.

"Oh...oh...good boy," she whispered.

To say he was lost for words was like calling water wet.

Though he kept his massage in a rhythmic round, his eyes were wide as they could possibly be behind his glasses. So wide that they hurt.

What the hell did she just do to me?

If he had to go off of physical injury, he would say she punched him in the stomach with all the force of a train running at full speed.

If he had to go off of an attack to his psyche, he would say she wormed her way into some long buried and forgotten wire that sent his entire brain into overdrive.

If he had to go off the erection now straining against his paints, he would say that he was royally fucked.

"You really are so good at this," she said, her voice still breathless. "Good boy...my good boy, Heis."

Heisenberg snatched his hands away as if Lucky were lava.

"Wait! No...what's wrong?" she asked, turning slightly to look at him.

If she looks down...if she sees...

"GOTTA TAKE A SHIT!" he exclaimed suddenly.

Lucky's mouth dropped open as she gaped at him.

Then she nodded with a laugh playing at her lips.

"Yeah. Go. Just come back and finish your massage."

Before he could finish blinking, he found himself storming down the hallway.

Well...intending to storm. His gait was impacted a bit by his dick standing at full mast and his hands hurriedly attempting to unbuckle the straps around his pants.

So FUCKING dumb. A shit? Really? he thought, visibly grimacing. It would have probably been less embarrassing to admit I was about to jack it to her calling me hers.

Hers...her good boy...good...I'm her good boy...hahaha...

What am I? A fucking dog?

...don't answer that.

Rushing into the break room, he considered the couch before catching sight of the bathroom. With a flick of one wrist as his other hand pulled his cock from his underwear and pants, Heisenberg slammed open the bathroom door.

He managed to slide his pants down his legs as he sat on the toilet and closed the door with the weakest of hand movements.

Finally free from judgment, Heisenberg hissed as he fumbled his glasses to the nearby counter and took himself into his hand.

"Good boy...her good boy...fuck...fuck yeah I am, baby..."

A groan and a grunt fell from his lips as he jerked his hand along his shaft.

All too often this act had been nothing but release from tension. An exploration so technical and so tedious as to be boring. But now with Lucky at his side and in his bed - however platonically she slept there - the images that plagued him seemed vibrantly real and tempting in their joyful teasing.

Imaginings - hopes and dreams and fantasies - that he could only cling onto in the moment.

The desk.

He would take her right on that same desk she was taking notes on.

"Oh, Karl," she would say, despite not knowing his first name. "Gonna be my good boy?"

"Yes," he said aloud, eyes closing and mind prickling with sights of her and waves of pleasure.

Lucky would be splayed on his desk - lying on her back and presenting herself to him as if she were a meal to be consumed instead of a darling treasure to worship.

"That's good...only good boys are allowed to fuck me. Isn't that what you want?"

"Yes...yes...god fucking damnit. YES." Huffing and hating the tremble in his thighs, Heisenberg bucked into his hand. "Yes...only me...wanna be your good boy. I'll be so good for you. Only you, Mein Schatz..."

A dirty laugh from her lips. The Lucky of his dreams becoming more and more defined as she palmed one breast and teased her clit with the fingers of her other hand.

"Mmm...know what you're saying you know...my treasure...that's so cute...been feeling the same way about you lately...thinking of you...dreaming of you...my good boy want to tell me what else he's been feeling? Mmn? Big boy wanna tell me before you put your cock inside of me?"

Lips loose along with his pleasure, Heisenberg found he could not build his voice to say the words aloud.

So he mouthed them instead. Mouthed them and stuttered in his quest for pleasure as his hand curled about his shaft at the "lah" tipping silently from his tongue.

"Oh, darling..." A smile. She'd smile. Genuine and sweet and sincere and all for him. "I love you too, Karl."

"Mmnnn....ah...fu-UCK!" With a panicked inhale, Heisenberg quickly pinched the head of his cock to prevent his end from coming too soon. "No, no, no...not yet...not yet...please..."

Though the pleasure was unlike anything he had previously experienced and his calves clenched in protest of a release delayed, his oncoming orgasm stalled and began to fade.

"Such a good boy," said Lucky, eyeing him in his fantasy like she would look at a drink of water on a hot day. "That's right. You don't come until I tell you to. Understand?"

A nod of his head.

"Good, good boy. My good boy. Good Karl. Come on...think it's time you got your treat...here...I'll help you..."

With her fingers moving to fully expose the inside of that wet and preciously pink pussy of hers, Lucky looked up at him with a lidded look.

Heisenberg had no experience with another person when it came to handling his physical pleasure. Hell, with any pleasure or positive feeling at all. Except maybe the triumph of victory over others, he had never had the chance to experience happiness - true happiness and trust and faith in another soul.

Until her.

And for her...for her he would indulge and give himself freely...if only locked away inside of his mind.

Inexperience taking a back seat to passion, he pictured himself guiding his cock into her waiting and welcoming body. Maybe he would steady himself with a hand on her hip or simply with a heated stare into her eyes.

He all but strangled his cock to try to mimic a feeling he had never known and had never thought to miss before her.

"Uh-huh," whined Lucky in his dreams. "Oh...you're so big...fill me up just right. So fucking thick..."

"Hah...ah...your good boy big enough for you?"

"Yes...oh yes...yes...so big...such a perfect dick...please...please Karl...Heis...please, baby, please...Heis?"

When he began to rut into his own hand with a purpose, he felt flames like that of standing directly beside the blaring crucible dancing across his cheeks. Though some of his daydream seemed vague and hard to read, he had enough to know that he could not delay the inevitable for much longer. Lucky - the real and actual Lucky - was still waiting for him back in the office. Waiting and none the wiser to his desperate need for her affection. It sickened him - the want for anything and everything to do with her.

Sickened him...and sent electric shocks of white pleasure down his spine.

"So fucking perfect...you're so fucking perfect for me, Lucky...oh..."

"Heis..."

"Huh...ah...already so close...so damn worked up...can't stand it...can't stand you looking like that..."

"Like what?"

Heaving and heatedly squirming where he sat, Heisenberg noticed for the first time that one of his boots jutted up and down on the floor beneath him. As if his entire body refused to be still.

"Most beautiful fucking thing I've ever seen," he bit out. "Please...please, Luck...I know it's soon...but please..."

A tilted head and a gentle grin. A pointer finger that danced around her clit and drew his eyes away only long enough for her to breathe out shallow and short. His eyes snapped back to hers immediately.

"Please what?"

"Please let me come...let me come inside you...wanna...wanna take you...claim you...don't want you with anyone else ever again."

Glinting eyes and lush eyelashes.

"You're gonna be all that to me, Heis? Well...in that case..."

Her lips finding his own. His very first kiss - albeit imaginary. Her lips soft but without taste. His own lips puckering even as they trembled from the need for more.

"In that case," she continued, taunting him in his ear. "Come, Heis. Be a good boy and come for me."

Hindsight would have him chastising himself for not thinking to grab some tissue. In the moment, however, he was too busy panting and watching his cum dot the floor in thick strips. Heisenberg growled...tried to hold on to the image of her with one eye still closed.

Reality settled in on him. Settled in even as his stomach quivered underneath his shirt and his orgasm began to relax into his bones. It was pleasant and his every nerve seemed to stand on edge. Tingles of pleasure radiated from his chest to his feet flat against the floor. Gulping in air, he knew he had never come so hard before in his life. It was good...great even.

But it was not her. It was not enough.

Clean up was a quick and tedious affair. Lucky could not know what he had done in her quarters. The tissues he found too late to wipe his seed from the floor were tossed and flushed away. He checked the room once and then again once his shades were back on his face.

Finishing the belt at the top of his pants, he cleared his throat before exiting.

The television in the break room still hummed though it sat completely dead in the meager light from the ceiling.

Shit...glad she wasn't in here. Never had anyone here to care about when I got down to business...no telling what my powers do with electronics...

The schematic. He had to find that damn schematic.

Trying to level his breathing as he stalked the hallway, Heisenberg considered the day before him. Lucky had not wished to attend a revitalization attempt with him yet. While he didn't intend to push her into seeing something that might scar her again, it might be worthwhile to have her eyes in the room at some point. She hadn't complained about the notes yet. Maybe he should offer? Make it sound like a small deal and let her in when it was near completion? Give her a taste before exposing her to more?

Fucking stupid...it's all so fucking stupid...what happened to me? If she were any assistant, I would just drag her ass there and have her record the whole thing. Fuck me with all this concerned shit.

But she's not just any assistant...

Entering the office, he stilled at the doorway when he saw Lucky facing him from her chair.

"Uh...hey," he said, licking his lips. "Sorry about that. Took...ah...let's just forget it."

"Actually," she began. "I need to be honest with you. Because of what happened before..."

Eyebrows shooting up, he stood in silence before she continued.

"Um...so...I was sitting here...sitting here and trying to rub my neck or whatever..."

"Yes?"

"Well...the radio came on and it freaked me out a little bit..." She paused, her fidgety look dropping to the floor. "But...the more I listened...the more I...recognized your voice."

"My...my voice?"

"Yes."

Heisenberg could not move. He shouldn't be looking at her, but he was afraid if he blinked that the tension would break and she would begin laughing or cursing or, worst of all, apologizing.

"Umm...it...I heard you. And I guess you were...I guess it was real time." A tent of her fingers and a swallow in her throat. "I heard your comment and responded and...I think...I think you could hear me too. Possibly? You seemed to...seemed to be replying to what I said directly."

Shame. Shame for a million years fell on his shoulders that had felt so light before.

"Where?" he managed to say. "Where did you come in? What comment did you respond to?"

How she looked at him, he had no idea. She was far braver than he could ever be. Heisenberg planned to face down Miranda without a single hesitation one day on that glorious battlefield where his freedom could be won.

But now? Faced with Lucky standing and walking toward him with the full weight of her eyes upon him?

He looked away.

"You said...you asked me if my good boy was big enough for me."

The purr in her voice. The sound of her steps growing closer. The burn in his throat.

"After that," she said. "I called your name...I...responded to you and you to me."

"That didn't...I..." He shook his head. "I...umm..."

"Can I hold your hand?"

Head shooting up, Heisenberg caught her heated look. The same heated look she had worn in his dreams.

He nodded. Nodded even though he barely registered it until she took his hand and steps to press herself flush against him.

When she spoke, it was hushed and low.

For him and him only.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom...freshen up. Since we know you can communicate from the radio to the television...I want you to tell me when it's okay to come back here. I'm giving you two options."

Heisenberg hung on her every word and looked at her as if she controlled his every movement.

"The first...you can leave. Can give me enough time to go there...find what you were looking for...then tell me you're off to do whatever. I won't mention this again. We won't mention it."

Silence fell between the two of you. A crackle of the radio to the side of the room.

"And the other option?" he asked, voice nearly breaking.

A shy look. A happy tilt of her lips.

"The other option...you can rest for a bit before I come back here and make whatever fantasy you were having come true."

A mouth drier than dry left his tongue feeling too large. Too large and too needed to swipe across his lips.

"You don't have to answer now-"

"The second one," he said. "Second one. Want that one. Screw the first one."

A bright and happy smile. A smile that crinkled the tail of her eyes and lit up her face.

She was beaming at him. Squeezing his hand before parting from him.

Not for long...not for damn long if he could help it.

"You give me the word then, good boy," she teased, walking out of the room.

Legs nearly buckling and sending him to the ground, Heisenberg took uneasy steps to his office chair before throwing himself on it. His entire body buzzed, though it seemed far less like electricity and far more like promise and hope. Not love on her end...not yet. But a maybe. Potential.

More.

Grinning stupidly and looking at the desk, he made quick work of clearing the area for the fun he planned on having from his daydream to come true.

As soon as he picked up the recorder Lucky used to transcribe his notes, Heisenberg saw it.

That damned schematic.

His last visit to this same room. A note on said schematic stating "DON'T FORGET" in large words. A note he carelessly put there before guiding Lucky to sit down to look at her transcriptions and laugh with her over the sixth stable boy in one week to die of drunken stupidity.

Quietly and contentedly, he opened the desk drawer to stuff the schematic inside.

"Mmn...don't think I'll need you for a while yet actually..." Eyeing the radio on the wall, Heisenberg tossed his glasses to the table and tried to slick and perfect the wiry hair about his head. "Oh, Lucky, honey...room is ready whenever you are...and so is your good boy."

#karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #heavy metal lover #divergence #good boy #asks #the alcina bit is carried over to hml #i can see her doing cute salon days with the kids #heisenberg complains about it now #but then?#highlight of his little emo life #smut

103 notes · View notes

madslorian · 3 years

Text

weekly fic recs!

More recommendations! Everybody seems to love the very first one I posted, which is amazing!!! Everything I have recommended can be found on my {fic rec masterlist}.

Here are all the amazing writers I have included in this weeks recs:

@forever-rogue

@gryffindorwriter

@autumnleaves1991-blog

@dindjarindiaries

@frannyzooey

@opheliaelysia

@ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa

@winchesterxxi

@pedros-mustache

@pedro-pascal-love

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⊱{Frankie “Catfish” Morales}⊰

"WE'RE JUST FRIENDS." "FRIENDS DON'T DO THIS TYPE OF SHIT." BY FOREVER-ROGUE

Reader and Frankie have been friends for many years and it's finally come to the point where emotions are taking over and you can't sit there and act like you're just friends anymore.

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⊱{Agent Whiskey / Jack Daniels}⊰

“I TRUSTED YOU." / "I DON'T KNOW WHO I AM WITHOUT YOU." BY GRYFFINDORWRITER

Takes place during Whiskey's final scene of the movie, but reader has some words to say to him that talk him down

TRUST BY GRYFFINDORWRITER

After the reader and Whiskey have a few drinks together before Whiskey's next mission, they share a quick kiss. When Whiskey is shot the next day, there's only one thing that reader can think of to restore his memory

MEMORY BY GRYFFINDORWRITER

Reader loses her memory when she gets shot and despite the agency's efforts to recover them, they seem to be lost for good much to Whiskey's dismay. So he replicates their first date again

MISCOMMUNICATION BY GRYFFINDORWRITER

Ginger tells Whiskey that reader has been shot and killed on a mission, the pain of losing yet another love begins to settle in when suddenly you're stumbling through the agency doors injured

SCREW TRADITION BY GRYFFINDORWRITER

It's the reader and Whiskey's wedding day and reader is having a panic attack before the ceremony. Jack doesn't give it a second thought before he's rushing through the doors to help alieve all the stress and emotions

REGRETS BY GRYFFINDORWRITER

After a mission goes wrong and Whiskey and reader are facing impending death, they miraculously survive and Whiskey is intrigued when the reader mentions not wanting to have died with regrets

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO FALL IN LOVE WITH ME." / "H-HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN STANDING THERE?" BY GRYFFINDORWRITER

Reader confides in Ginger when a pregnancy test comes back positive, and stresses over Jack not wanting kids after what happened with his first wife and their child

*SLEEPY SEX BY AUTUMNLEAVES1991

NSFW! Reader and Whiskey admit to the sexual tension between them one night during a mission, and as you can assume, smut ensues!

“[CHOKED UP] I THOUGHT I LOST YOU." / “[CHOKED UP] I NEVER THOUGHT I'D SEE YOU AGAIN" BY GRYFFINDORWRITER

Reader is out shopping at a store when Jack sees on the news there was a shooting there, and he immediately rushes to find you with fears of what happened to his high school sweetheart flooding his mind

“WHO ATE ALL THE ADVENT CALENDAR CHOCOLATES?!" BY GRYFFINDORWRITER

Reader confronts Whiskey about the empty advent calendar only four days into December, and he sends you on a wild goose chase to distract you. Overall the cutest fluff ever!

"WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING? IT'S NOT SAFE OUT THERE!" BY GRYFFINDORWRITER

Reader and Whiskey get into an argument after reader spends more time at work recently. He changes his attitude pretty quickly when you turn to walk out into the cold night

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⊱{Javier Peña}⊰

"WE'RE JUST FRIENDS." "FRIENDS DON'T DO THIS TYPE OF SHIT." BY AUTUMNLEAVES1991

Okay, think Frankie's version of this prompt (if you read it!)... but a complete 180º. This has a lot of angst and it just makes me realize how much poor Javier needs a hug, desperately.

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⊱{Din Djarin}⊰

SNACK TIME BY DINDJARINDIARIES

Day 6 of Mandoctober by this author. Absolute fluff between Din and Grogu where dad!Din has to teach Grogu to not play with his food

RAZOR CREST BY DINDJARINDIARIES

Day 7 of Mandoctober by the author. As Din grows closer with the reader, the term home is something he begins to feel properly identifies what the Razor Crest is for the three of you

AD'IKA BY DINDJARINDIARIES

Day 10 of Mandoctober by the author. This follows Din's usage of the word Ad'ika, or little one, towards Grogu and how the child responds to it

COZY IN THE COCKPIT BY DINDJARINDIARIES

Reader is badly injured when the Razor Crest takes a beating, and in order to save you from hypothermia, Din locks the three of you in the cockpit and cleans up your wounds while Grogu attempts to help too

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⊱{Marcus Pike}⊰

THE RISING SUN BY PEDROS-MUSTACHE

A short story about the reader suffering from depression and anxiety, but has Marcus by their side to face it all. A someone who has been in a (scarily) similar situation to this, it was so comforting hearing the things I both needed to hear and wish I would have heard from my previous s/o

"IF YOU THROW THAT SNOWBALL, THAT MEANS WAR" BY AUTUMNLEAVES1991

This is absolutely, 100%, pure fluff. Reader and Marcus are having a fun snow day with their two kids and I melted reading this

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⊱{Dave York}⊰

*WELL, THIS IS AWKWARD (SERIES) BY PEDRO-PASCAL-LOVE

NSFW! This story awoke something in me... a new interest in Dave x Nanny stories. It follows the events of Equalizer 2, just with the reader added into the plot

(ALSO I AM SO EXCITED THE AUTHOR IS CONTINUING THIS STORY... Y'ALL NEED TO GIVE IT A SHOT!!!)

*DAVE YORK X NANNY DRABBLES/ASKS BY FRANNYZOOEY

NSFW! I found this shortly after finishing Well, This Is Awkward and I love it. These are all drabbles/asks the reader has gotten about certain situations regarding Dave and the Nanny!Reader. It's all the right amount of spice in all the right places

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⊱{Ezra}⊰

*AKRASIA BY OPHELIAELYSIA

NSFW! Reader and Ezra are locked down in their ship before being able to dock and part ways. With sexual tension building, there is only so much time left to do something about it

HOLD ON TO THESE WORDS BY OPHELIAELYSIA

Reader struggles with insomnia and late-night anxieties, meaning Erza never finds himself waking up beside you. However, one night he wakes to you lost in your own mind and comforts you

WILDFLOWER BY OPHELIAELYSIA

Reader is exploring nature one morning before Ezra wakes up and is greeted with the sight of beautiful flowers, which remind you of your lover in the sweetest ways possible

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⊱{Pero Tovar}⊰

*CLANDESTINE BY PEDROS-MUSTACHE

NSFW! Reader and Pero cross paths when Pero is hired for protection in your kingdom before the King arrives for a festival. Lots of small glances and hidden love-making in the dark shadows make for something sweet yet forbidden

*LIKE THOSE FOREIGN STARS BY PEDROS-MUSTACHE

NSFW! Reader and Pero are married, but for most of your marriage, he has been off selling his sword. When he is gone for much longer than originally intended on one job, his arrival back home calls for a passionate reunion on the kitchen table, and the floor, and the bed...

*RAISE YOUR HAND TO ME AGAIN AND I'LL CUT YOUR HEART OUT MYSELF BY ITHINKHESGAYBUTWESAVEDMUFASA

NSFW! WARNING: SUGGESTED DOMESTIC VIOLENCE/SPANKING DISCIPLINE, I felt like that was needed before recommending it.

Disclaimer: This is a glorious Outlander AU, but I think it can be read without any knowledge of the show. Reader and Pero are married due to a deal to keep you safe as you travel with him and the other men, and when you step out of line he is expected to reprimand you as your husband. Pero ends up having a change of heart as to what being a husband means to the two of you

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⊱{Poe Dameron}⊰

MARRIED TO A SKYWALKER BY WINCHESTERXXI

Adorable headcanons about how life would be if reader was a Skywalker/Solo kid and how interactions would be with Leia and Han

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⊱{Oberyn Martell}⊰

DORNISH DELIGHTS (Part 1) (Part 2) BY AUTUMNLEAVES1991

A modern AU where Oberyn owns and runs a shop called Dornish Delights and reader has quickly become one of his favorite customers. There's a strong sense of comfort when picturing this shop and I desperately wish I could go there and be loved by Oberyn like this

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⊱{Marcus Moreno}⊰

FIDDLE BY PEDROS-MUSTACHE

An adorable fic about reader fiddling with Marcus' wedding ring beginning on their honeymoon. After ten years reader is worried he is annoyed by it, but all is well in the end

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⊱{Max Phillips}⊰

WITH CHERRIES ON TOP (SERIES) BY ITHINKHESGAYBUTWESAVEDMUFASA

I am still actively reading this and am only a couple of chapters in, BUT IT'S A PROPOSAL AU! Brief rundown if you don't know the movie, WITHOUT giving anything major away; The boss is getting deported and creates a fake engagement with the assistant! It's really fun to see this plot with Max plugged into it

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inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

Note

Do you know any good movie aus? Not as in they're actors, but fics written based on movie plots?

Hey Nonny!!

OHHHH! This is fantastic! Because I actually have ANOTHER ask looking for crossovers too, and the list is HUGE. So I’ve used this opportunity to split the list up into two. This one here is for my MFL list, and if anyone has any of their own to suggest, please add them to this list!

So, check out Below!

CROSSOVERS and FUSIONS (Feb 2021) Pt. 1.5 [FICS TO READ]

See Also:

Fairy Tales and Fantasy

TV, Movies, and Books AU (Fantasy Pt. 2)

Wonderful Life AU

Sherlock / Hannibal Crossovers?

Science Fiction / Fantasy

Faes / Faeries

Disney-esque Fics

Moulin Rouge AU

Crossovers and Fusions Pt 1

Two More Miracles by PatPrecieux (T, 221 w., 1 Ch. || Good Omens Crossover || Angst With Happy Ending, 221B Ficlet, Temporary Character Death) – Tragedy and miracles go hand in hand.

Here, Though the World Explode, These Two Survive by TheTyger (G, 1,194 w., 2 Ch. || Good Omens Crossover || Post-TRF, Ineffable Husbands, Fluff, Reunion, Rings, Hurt/Comfort) – Tomorrow, it would be three years from that day. Three years with no rude text messages, no experiments being conducted while London slept, no body parts in the fridge. And John still sometimes caught himself buying extra milk and looking for cases and making two coffees.

Just the Book by Carenejeans (G, 1,495 w., 1 Ch. || Good Omens Crossover || Humour, Aziraphale’s Bookshop) – John's looking for a book. It's Aziraphale's bookshop, but Crowley provides customer service.

The Case of the Missing.... by Beth H (G, 2,601 w., 1 Ch. || Sherlock Crossover || Case Fic) – Crowley has gone missing, and Aziraphale hasn't a clue how to go about finding him. Luckily, help comes from above...or rather, from the side.

The Curious Case of the Missing Antichrist by Aedemiel (G, 2,865 w., 1 Ch. || Sherlock Crossover || Vignette, Case Fic, Desperation, Bad Ideas) – What if Aziraphale and Crowley had consulted the great consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes, about finding Adam Young?

Eye of the Storm by Calais_Reno (G, 2,996 w., 1 Ch. || The Day After Tomorrow AU || Survival, Cold Weather, Boy Scout John, No Major Character Death) – Weather has become the fifth horseman of the apocalypse.

Nice and Accurate Deductions by htebazytook (T, 3,179 w., 1 Ch. || Good Omens Crossover || Romance, Humour, Fluff) – Sherlock drags John to a certain bookshop in Soho.

Snake In The Flat by PatPrecieux (T, 3,293 w., 1 Ch. || Good Omens Crossover || Magical Realism, Fluff, Humour, Ineffable Husbands) – There can be a snake in the grass, snakes on a plane and now there's a snake in the flat.

The Picture of Sherlock Holmes by CarmillaCarmine (M, 3,306 w., 1 Ch. || Victorian Dorian Gray AU || Angst, Paris, London, Travel, Painting, Major Character Death, Opera, Captain John, First Meetings) – Sherlock Holmes, a rich and frivolous man, after a lifetime of debauchery finally falls in love. His heart chooses Captain Watson.

The Old Town by a_different_equation (T, 3,573 w., 1 Ch. || Hans Christian Anderson Fusion || Magical Realism, Christmas, Fairy Tale Elements, Love Stories, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Museums, Sweet Sherlock) – Once upon a time there were two boys. This is the story how once upon December, they found the missing Christmas Spirit, true love and new beginnings. A Queer fairytale for all seasons.

Holmes vs. Harkness by coinin (T, 3,960 w., 1 Ch. || Torchwood / HHGTTG Fusion || Crack, Mystrade) – In which Captain Jack gets in a little over his head and is introduced to the myriad joys of bureaucracy, Mycroft is smug, the Guide offers up some helpful advice, John Watson doesn't share, and, in a strange turn of events, Jack doesn't get laid even once.

Perfect by TrufflesTheMushroom (T, 3,984 w., 1 Ch. || Good Omens Crossover || The Apocalypse) – Crowley and Aziraphale have made a huge mistake. It's the end of the world and it all boils down to one fight. Crowley has picked John Watson. Aziraphale has picked Sherlock Holmes.

Limbo by Calais_Reno (T, 4,070 w., 1 Ch. || Good Omens Crossover || Waiting Rooms, Ineffable Bureaucracy, Paperwork, Explosions, Apocalypse, Second Chances, Declarations of Love, Nobody Dies) – Ordinarily Sherlock would be quite impatient by now with all this pointless waiting (for what?), but at the moment he feels as if he has all the time in the world.

The Baker Street Flat by Anonymous (PG-13, 5,000-20,000 w., 7 Parts || Lake House Crossover || Angst, Romance, LIVEJOURNAL Comments Fic) – John’s pretty sure it’s a sign of mental imbalance — of which he has been all too frequently accused of late — that he is actually entertaining the possibility that he is communicating with a total stranger two years in the future via the magic mail slot on the door of his new flat. He certainly won’t be mentioning this at next week’s session. On his way out the door to interview for a part-time position at a local surgery, another meeting where he has no intention of mentioning his most recent hobby, he drops a fairly sarcastic note: If you’re really from 2012, is the world about to end?

In the Shadows by Laur (M, 5,029 w., 1 Ch. || Loose Shutter Island Fusion || Disturbing Imagery, Psychological, Angst, Major Character Death, Grief/Trauma) – Do you believe in ghosts? When Sherlock’s eyes snap to him they are anguished.

come be my april fool by a_different_equation (M, 6,473 w., 1 Ch. || Great British Bake Off AU || Writer!Sherlock, Est. Rel., Fluff / Humour, Baking, Marriage Proposal, Military Kink, Domestics, POV John, Romance, Sherlock Wears Glasses, Sweet Sherlock, Bookstores, Queer Themes) – After leaving ‘The Great British Bake Off’, Sue Perkins has written a book about Victorian baking. Tonight, on April 1st, she is reading at ‘The Bard’, Mike Stamford’s bookstore in central London. It is the exact same spot where John Watson, battered and bruised, had learned all about his magnificent bastard – one Mr. Sherlock Holmes, famous gay crime fiction writer – for the first time. A story about found family, DRAMAtical lesbians, how to react when your boyfriend has a military kink but he doesn't want to act on it, oh, and popping the question. Sequel to 'i read your book, you magnificent bastard'. Part 2 of Magnificent Bastard!AU

The Babadook by CatieBrie (T, 6,886 w., 1 Ch. || Babadook Fusion || Post-TRF, Horror, Demonic Possession, Violence, Halloween, Grief, Angst with Happy Ending) – “A children’s book,” John mutters as he flips it open. The pages are scrawled with beautiful charcoal lines and thick black ink. The cover, bright red, edges the open pages and something tugs at the back of John’s brain. It’s a familiar feeling, black and tarrish and thick in his thoughts. He shakes it off and picks the book up off his bed, turning so that he can sit on the edge and spread the book out across his knees. If it’s in a word or it’s in a look, you can’t get rid of the Babadook. He turns the page, ignoring the pressure building beneath his chest. There’s a closet on one page; paper doors meant to be opened by the reader flutter as John reads the text on the other page.

What To Do With An Atypical Animal Within by HarveyDangerfield & swimsalot (E, 7,804 w. || Harry Potter AU || Animagus, Porn With A Little Plot, Tail Porn) – Sherlock is determined to be an animagus. But what happens when it isn't a fox or a horse or a dog he's turning into?

The Lonely by elwinglyre (E, 7,888 w., 1 Ch. || Twilight Zone AU || Major Character Death, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Firsts, Sad Ending) – Witness if you will a distant planet with a dungeon made of desert sand and mountain stone. This planet holds one inmate, a man wrongly accused, serving a life sentence. His only solace, his notebook and the thought of the day when the supply ship brings him a pardon. Instead, salvation comes to John Watson in a large box and a visitor from The Twilight Zone.

Friend by esama (G, 7,909 w., 1 Ch. || Harry Potter Crossover || Character Death, Kid Fic) – Sherlock finds the skull when he's five.

Spell It Out by prettysailorsoldier (M, 8,344 w., 1 Ch. || Harry Potter Fusion || Teenlock, Christmas, Love Potion/Spell, Pining Sherlock) – Remaining at Hogwarts over break has become something of a tradition for Sherlock and John, staying behind together ever since their very first year, but, when Irene throws a gift of doctored coconut ice into the mix, plans quickly change, even if John doesn't. Part 6 of 25 Days of Johnlock

The Long Goodbye by elbereth (M, 8,367 w., 1 Ch. || Time Traveller’s Wife AU || Doomed Timelines, Time Travel) – Sherlock travels in time. The ending is known even before they meet, yet they choose to live this love. One of them knows the past, one of them knows the future, yet their deepest secret is safe from each other. Limited time, but unlimited love.

Sugar & Spice by Ttime42 (T, 8,476 w., 1 Ch. || Great British Bake Off AU || First Kiss, Baking) – Sherlock Holmes and John Watson compete on The Great British Bake Off.

Pygmalion by ancientreader (T, 9,136 w., 2, Ch. || Pygmalion AU || Magical Realism) – The spell to turn a statue into an animate being has been illegal in the UK for a hundred and seventy years when the -- body? -- is found on Hampstead Heath. It changes everything.

Am I the Current (Tiger) King of England? by Dee_Laundry (T, 9,360 w., 1 Ch. || Tiger King Fusion || Post-S4, Dreams, Friendship, John’s Sexuality, Sherlock’s Sexuality, Quarantine/CoVID-19, Past Character Death, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Dom/Sub, First Kiss) – “I had the weirdest dream last night,” John said. Seven times.

I Could Try by Arcwin (T, 9,583 w., 5 Ch. || Greek Mythology Crossover || Post-TRF, Orpheus and Eurydice Myth, POV John, Pining John, BAMF John, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Horror, Angst with Happy Ending) – John is grieving Sherlock's death post Reichenbach until one day, he sees the violin case, and something inside him tells him to pick it up. Crossover between BBC Sherlock and the Greek tragedy Orpehus and Eurydice, wherein Eurydice is killed for her beauty and taken to the Underworld. Orpheus, being the son of Apollo (the God of Music and Medicine) travels to the Underworld to convince (via playing his lyre) Hades and Persephone to let Eurydice go. Orpheus then must travel with Eurydice behind him, not looking back, until they exit to the land of the living.

Puzzlebox by standbygo (E, 9,867 w., 5 Ch. || Hellraiser Fusion || True Love, Supernatural Elements, Psychological Horror, First Kiss, Post S2, Angst with Happy Ending) – A love story with horror. A horror story with a happy ending.

you are a paradigm by 1electricpirate (M, 10,013 w. || Harry Potter AU || Wizard!John / Muggle!Sherlock, Magic) – Sometimes, only sometimes, when Sherlock is very far away and absolutely guaranteed not to return for at least three hours, John sits on the sofa and lets the tea make itself. In which John is (reluctantly) a wizard, Mycroft is (apparently) omniscient, and Sherlock is (surprisingly) oblivious. Part 1 of More Things Than Are Dreamt Of

Already Gone by johnwatso (M, 10,078 w., 8 Ch. || Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind Fusion || Non-Linear Narrative, Memory Loss, Ambiguous / Open Ending) – Dear Mr Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes has had John Watson erased from his memory. Please never mention their relationship to him again. Thank you, Lacuna Inc.

A Real Deal by toyhto (M, 10,339 w., 1 Ch. || Black Mirror-Inspired || Science Fiction, Post-TRF, Canon Divergence) – Please be real, he thought and pulled Sherlock closer.

You Don't Need Wings to Fly by Laiquilasse (T, 11,326 w., 11 Ch. || Wonderful Life AU || Bullying, Angels, Suicidal Ideation, Christmas) – John, an angel, is sent from Heaven to help a desperate Sherlock Holmes by showing him what life would have been like if he had never existed.

Backup Copies by etothepii (M, 13,332 w., 3 Ch. || Dollhouse Crossover || Major Character Death) – When John dies, Sherlock doesn't know what to do. But Mycroft does.

Silent Night by khorazir (M, 15,060 w., 1 Ch. || Codebreaker / WWII / Imitation Game-Inspired AU || Care Fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Dev. Rel., Reunion, PTSD John, Christmas) – It’s Christmas Eve 1944, and Sherlock Holmes has received his most precious gift already: after a long, dangerous deployment, Surgeon Captain John Watson of the Royal Navy has unexpectedly returned from the front. As if this weren’t enough, there’s a case. Both events make for a night full of promise, excitement, and the difficult task of getting reacquainted with the man Sherlock hasn’t seen in three years and feared he’d lost forever. Part 2 of Enigma

In Arduis Fidelis by Raliena (T, 18,628 w., 10 Ch. || GI Joe Crossover || Captivity, Surgery, BAMF John, John “Three Continents” Watson, POV John Watson, Prisoner of War, Cobra - Freeform, soldier John, John-centric, Doctor John Watson, John is a Very Good Doctor, Violence) – Once upon a time John was a Soldier and a Doctor. And he was known John or Doc or Doctor. But things change. And he *earned* his right to the name “Three Continents Watson”. Part 1 of the Three Continents Watson series

Serendipity by Calais_Reno (T, 18,222 w., 3 Ch. || Serendipity Fusion || Christmas, Romance, Coincidences, First Meetings, Misunderstandings, New York City, Fate and Destiny) – A bit of New York Christmas fluff, based on the 2001 movie.

Magnificent by esama (T, 19,477 w., 1 Ch. || Harry Potter Crossover || Crossover Pairing) – The birth of the Ministry of Magic and his relationship with the British Government.

Much Ado About Nothing or Get Over Here and Kiss Me Already! by MorganeUK (NR, 19,847 w., 13 Ch. || Much Ado About Nothing AU || Mutual Pining, Angst, Lestrolly) – AU in modern time where the Holmes' are a powerful noble family, Mycroft is the chief of defences and Sherlock is working for secret service. Lestrade is a high rank officer in the army. Ms Hudson is an old Lady that took care of her niece and nephew Molly and John since their youth. Part 1 of the Sherlock / Shakespeare series

Dead Letter Office by a_different_equation (M, 20,364 w., 15 Ch. || ‘Bartleby’ Fusion / Office Setting AU || Different First Meeting, Epistolary, John's Blog, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pre-Canon, John Watson is Sherlock's Boss, PTSD John, Military Backstory, Writer John, Drug Use, Texting) – John Watson comes home from the war, gets a new job and meets Sherlock Holmes through Mike Stamford. Same tale since 1891, except this time it’s 2008, John is Sherlock’s boss, and they work together at the Dead Letter Office in London. It's not a love story, until it finally is.

When John Met Sherlock by MorganeUK (T, 21,293 w., 10 Ch. || When Harry Met Sally AU || Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Developing Relationship, Faking It, Mutual Pining, Background Lestrolly, Fluff and Smut, Rom-Com) – At first they thought that friendship was impossible. Then meet again and become friends. After dinners, texts, cases and discussions they become more, best friends. Faking orgasm before falling on the floor together to get real one... Then going back to pushing each other away again... Before falling in love!But not necessarily in this order.

You're The One by Mazarin221b (E, 21,768 + w. || WiP || Underage Dirty Dancing Fusion || Period Typical Homophobia, Sexism, Angst, Fluff) – John Watson is seventeen years old and has his life planned out: medical school, a commission, and an opportunity to change the world. He just has to get through three weeks at The Copper Beeches - a resort owned by one of his father's patients - with his annoying sister and his perfect parents before he's off to Cambridge. But John has a secret he's trying desperately to keep, and, it seems, so is just about everyone around him, including the incredibly gorgeous and amazing dance teacher, Sherlock Holmes, and his partner Irene Adler. Too bad Jim Moriarty seems to know precisely what everyone is hiding.

Into the Multiverse by AnAnYaH (M, 21,958 w., 18 Ch. || Avengers / Sherlock / Dr. Strange Crossover || Multiverses, Everstrange, Parentlock / Teenage Rosie, Sad Sherlock, Angry Sherlock, Sherlock/John Fight, Magic, Strange John, First Kiss, Whipping, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Threats of Rape / Non-Con, Mental Anguish, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending) – Nothing lasts forever. I am beginning to think it's the same for you and me. In a world where we don't co-exist how long will it take to finally break us ? Or are we already broken in need of a fix ?A multi-chapter fic where Sherlock and John had to leave their lives to save the world from universal threats and pursue as Doctor Strange and Everett Ross.Will they ever reunite? Part 1 of the Everstrange series

Addicted to a Certain Lifestyle by KatsatheGraceling (M, 22,751 w., 1 Ch. || James Bond Crossover || Bondlock, BAMF John, Assassin John, Q is a Holmes, Clueless Sherlock, Omniscient Mycroft) – The one where John is a BAMF assassin. With an affinity for cuddly warm jumpers.

Impossible Improbable Truth by KaraRenee (M, 24,308 w., 9 Ch. || Labyrinth AU) – John and Sherlock take a case investigating the disappearance of a teenage girl and her toddler half brother. What they find is an impossible adventure that leads them on a journey of discovery of their sexuality.

The Art Of Seduction: A Study In Pulling by flawedamythyst (M, 25,279 w., 1 Ch. || Queer As Folk Inspired AU || John/OMC, Additional Tags to Be Added Upon Reading) – Sherlock ran a website called The Science Of Seduction, on which he gave advice on the best ways to get laid, wrote blog entries detailing the results of his various sexual 'experiments' and generally contributed to the stereotype of 'every gay man is a sex-mad playboy'. John avoided the thing like the plague. AU in which Sherlock treats sex like he does crime in canon. Inspired by Queer As Folk UK, but it very quickly went its own way. Part 1 of The Art Of Seduction

False Advertising by ravenscar (E, 27,722 w. || Office AU / Devil Wears Prada Inspired || Victor Trevor, Flashbacks, Hurt / Comfort, Angst with Happy Ending, Younger John/Older Sherlock, Marriage Proposal) – Sherlock is John’s boss and mentor at an advertising agency. Can they find love in the cut-throat workplace?

A Wizarding Barista's Field Guide to Seducing a Muggle by paradigmfinch (T, 29,344 w., 9 Ch || Harry Potter Coffee Shop AU || Wizard John, Muggle Sherlock, Bisexual John, Flirting, First Dates, Secret Identity) – To help pay for Healing tuition, John Watson gets a job at a coffee shop in Muggle London, where he soon sets his sights on a particularly gorgeous customer. John's seen plenty of Muggle films. How different can it really be to woo a Muggle?

Time Of My Life by fiveainley_ohmy (E, 29,719 w., 8 Ch. || Dirty Dancing Fusion || Bisexual John, Dancing, Gay/Demi Sherlock) – John Watson takes his alcoholic sister to a summer camp in attempt to rehabilitate her. He didn't expect to fall in love with the dance instructor.

Through Dangers Untold by hogwartswitch (E, 32,003 w., 13 Ch. || Labyrinth AU) – The Goblin King has fallen in love with John Watson and visits him in dreams. But the evil wizard who cursed the Goblin King cannot allow that to continue. Will John survive the labyrinth? Or will he become a lost goblin like all the rest?

Unsettled by AxeMeAboutAxinomancy (E, 33,879 w., 10 Ch. || HIs Dark Materials AU || Daemons, Dark Themes, Non-Con) – Sherlock's dæmon hadn't settled. Once John realised that, so much made sense. Though so much else didn't, because it practically wasn't possible. Part 1 of the The Utmost Edge of Hazard series

The Last Companion by standbygo (E, 34,101 w., 14 Ch. || Firefly Fusion || Prostitution, Case Fic, Falling in Love, Angst with Happy Ending, Slow Burn, BAMF John, Discussions of Non Con But Doesn’t Happen) – Thirty years after the Miranda Wars, there is peace, both on the Rim and the Core planets. There are a number of old social mores still in place, such as the Order of Companions, but there is a sense that even such respected practices are coming to an end… Sherlock is a Companion - the best Companion on Persephone. With a bit of detective work on the side, of course. Then he meets a man named John Watson, encounters a series of bizarre cases, and finds his world is getting turned upside down.

The Great Bakerstreet Bake Off by Elphen (M, 38,058 w., 8 Ch. || Great British Bake Off AU || Caring Sherlock, Sweet John, Fluff, Baking, Accidental Touching, Pining, BJ’s, Banter and Bickering, Oblivious Characters) – John has decided to watch The Great British Bake Off this year and he is determined to do so. As Sherlock joins him, he is certain that that plan is ruined. He's in for a surprise when he's allowed to watch it but the real shock comes when Sherlock decides they ought to bake themselves. What's more, they should bake what they make in the Bake Off. John's not so sure it's a good idea but when his insides flutter at the thought, he finds it hard to complain.

Toe to Toe by standbygo (E, 44,971 w., 26 Ch. || White Nights Crossover || Ballet/Dance, Slow Burn, Spies/Secret Agents, Angst with Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss/Time, Shower Sex) – Sherlock Holmes is an international ballet star. After a favour for his brother goes south, he finds himself trapped in a foreign country, with a man named John Watson who could be an enemy... or an ally.

Silence by halloa_what_is_this (T, 44,993 w., 13 Ch. || The Piano Fusion || Victorian Sherlock, Dub Con, Voyeurism, Permanent Mutilation, Johniarty, Mute John) – In 1850, John is a mute young man forced to marry to save his father from indebtedness. His sister as his interpreter and his piano to keep him company, he travels to London to live with his husband James Moriarty. Without John's consent, James sells the piano to his friend Sherlock Holmes, who only asks for lessons from John in return. The lessons turn into a power play between the two when Sherlock proposes a deal: John may earn his piano back one key at a time, certain conditions attached. Part 1 of the Aborted Wings series

Crime is of the Essence by K8BNimble (M, 45,569 w., 18 Ch. || Harry Potter Crossover || Mystery, Slash) – When a man he hasn’t seen in almost ten years appears in his home with a man he thought was dead for twenty years, Harry Potter knew his evening had just gotten complicated. Written for Snarry Swap 2011. Named Hot Rec by "The Daily Snitch"1/18/2011. Snarry, past Harry/Sherlock. Long plotty mystery with light graphic slash sex.

Always 1895 by standbygo (E, 45,901 w., 19 Ch. || Oxford Time Travel AU || Time Travel, Friends to Lovers, Case Fic, Victorian, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, First Kiss/Time, First Meetings, Slow Burn, Angst With Happy Ending) – Time travelling historian John Watson goes to Victorian era England to study, and meets detective Sherlock Holmes. He finds himself torn between the work he was sent to do, the exciting life of solving crimes, and the extraordinary Holmes himself.

Curled (A Tangled AU) by crimsonwinter (G, 46,330 w., 13 Ch. || Tangled AU || Alternating POV) – Sherlock lives a limited life, high in a tower, and all he's wanted in eighteen years of isolation is to someday break free and see the floating lights. Somehow, a string of events leads him to John Watson, a surprisingly kind thief who steals his heart. Will they escape the selfish advances of Moriarty, Sherlock's paternal guardian, and will Sherlock find the meaning behind the silver lanterns?

The Boy Who Balanced on the Train Tracks by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 54,894 w., 5 Ch. || Harry Potter Crossover || John/Snape, Period Typical Homophobia, Character Death, Underage Sexual Attraction, Sexual Awakening, Time Turner, First Time, Poverty, Domestic Abuse, Death Eaters, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst with Happy / Bittersweet Ending) – Every year, on the 2nd of May, John Watson dreams of long black hair.

Say You’ll Stay With Me by justacookieofacumberbatch (E, 63,349 w., 21 Ch. || Pretty Woman Fusion || Prostitution) – It was just supposed to be an ordinary business trip, but when John’s car stalls out on Hollywood Boulevard, he meets someone who just might change his life.

Whispers in Corners by esama (T, 64,402 w., 10 Ch. || Harry Potter Crossover || Deathly Hallows, Crossover Pairing) – Everything started with a stumble - his new life in a new world as well as his surprisingly successful career as a medium.

Masters of Ink by Indybaggins (E, 67,382 w., 7 Ch. || Ink Master Tattoo TV Show AU || Angst, Banter, Body Modification, Cheating, Desire, Developing Relationship, Disability, Falling in Love, Feels, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Married John, Past Drug Addiction, Pining, Requited Love, Sex, Slow Burn, Smoking, Tattoo Artist John, Tattoo Artist Sherlock) – First-meeting-on-a-reality-show AU, Ink Master edition! There is expert tattooing, slightly less expert flirting, and two men falling hard. But John is married, and they can’t all win.

The Craving in Between by love_in_mind_palace (E, 69,349 w., 16 Ch. || Wedding Planner AU || Infidelity, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Sexting & Texting, Alternating POV, Mary is Not Nice) – Sherlock Holmes, The wedding Consultant. Picky about his projects and a nightmare to work with. Rejects ninety percent of the couples after just having a look at them and can predict how long a marriage will last. But when unassuming, plain, John Watson reluctantly limps his way in his office, with his more than enthusiastic fiancée, Mary Morstan, instead of dismissing the ill-assorted couple on the spot, he promptly decides that the project, and the groom.. are definitely worth working on.

The Loss of Flesh and Soul by deuxexmycroft (M, 69,712 w., 6/8 Ch. || WiP || Silence of the Lambs Crossover || Serial Killers, One-Sided Relationship) – Five years after John Watson puts the murderous Sherlock Holmes behind bars, a vicious copycat killer emerges. A reluctant John is pulled out of retirement to seek the expertise of the only man who can help, a man who has developed an unsettling obsession with John himself. Part 1 of The Loss of Flesh and Soul

The Vampires of London by consultingdetective (E, 72,660 w., 21 Ch. || Dracula AU || Pining Sherlock, Army Doctor John, Sharing a Bed, Porn With Feelings, Plot Twists) – Over one hundred years after the first battle, a series of murders have caught the attention of London's police force and Sherlock Holmes. While most of the city has forgotten the vampire that once walked its streets, the descendants of the Van Helsing, Harker, and Seward families have not.

Save Me or Let Me Drown by GubraithianFire (E, 72,986 w., 16 Ch. || Shameless AU || Dysfunctional Family, Alcoholism, Recreational Drug Use, Angst, Humour, Clubbing, Bipolar Disorder, Custody Battle, Mutual Pining, Family Fluff, Smut, Handcuffs, Anal Sex, Shower Sex, Rimming, Come Shot, Angst With Happy Ending) – How Sherlock escaped from his family, John sacrificed everything to his, and how, together, they built their own. Part 1 of the The Watsons series

This Is Your Song by agirlsname (E, 79,990 w., 19 Ch. || Moulin Rouge Fusion || Prostitute Sherlock, Poet John, Acting, Singing, Dancing, Writing, Poetry, Musical, Song Fic, Heavy Angst, Unreliable Narrator, Sherlock is French, Love at First Sight, UST, First Kiss/Time, Frottage, Coming in Pants, Anal Sex, Switchlock, Clothed Sex, Crossdressing, Secret Relationship, Forbidden Love, Jealousy, Terminal Illnesses, Grief/Mourning, Breakup/Makeup Sex, Past Drug Use, Attempted Rape, Canon-Typical Violence)– When John Watson is invalided home from the army in 1895, he moves to Paris to rediscover his writing and find a new meaning in life. His old friend Stamford invites him into a group of artist friends, and suddenly John finds himself auditioning to write a show for the famous brothel across the street. There, he meets the most beautiful man he’s ever seen - Sherlock, the star of the Moulin Rouge. But Sherlock is already promised to the investor of the show, the rich Duke Moriarty.

Sherlock, P.I. by Callie4180 (E, 83,264 w., 11 Ch. || Magnum P.I. Fusion || Past Relationships, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Canon-Typical Violence, Stalking, Creepy Moriarty) – For the Fall TV Sherlock fusion project. Sherlock, P.I. is an American television show that follows the exciting adventures of genius private investigator Sherlock Homes and his friends as they live their lives on the beautiful island of Oahu in Hawaii. Sherlock solves crimes as he wrestles with the ghosts and demons of his past.

Saudade by tunteeton (E, 96,952 w., 30 Ch. || After That Very Much AU || Case Fic, Non-Con Drug Use, Dubious Science, Canon Compliant up to THoB, John’s in Denial, Sub!Sherlock, Fake Non-Con Drug Use, Dom/Sub Relationship, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Kidnapping, Threatened Torture, Mary is Not Nice, Anal, Fluff, Non-Con Domming, Verbal Abuse, Slapping) – saudade (port.): a deep and melancholy longing for something or someone that is gone and not coming back. Homesickness, an emptiness in one’s soul, a love that remains after the loved one dies. John loses Sherlock, gains Sherlock and learns to never, ever, ever pray. Part 1 of the The Untranslatables series

Rosethorne by suitesamba (M, 98,888 w., 28 Ch. || Secret Garden AU || Injured Sherlock / John, Recovery, First Times, Minor Character Death, Disability, Past Domestic Abuse [Mary/OMC]) – John Watson, WWII army doctor, is injured in the line of duty and can no longer wield a scalpel. Sherlock Holmes, Britain’s best code-breaker, is side-lined by his own devastating injury. In a work inspired by Frances Hodgson Burnett’s “The Secret Garden,” the two men must find meaning and purpose in a world which seems to have taken away all they hold most dear. But of course, it really hasn’t.

Cake and Other Sins by Indybaggins (E, 100,670 w. || Great British Bakeoff AU || Alternate First Meeting, Angst, Baking, Desire, Disability, Incest (Holmescest/Holmescest with John), Masturbation, Falling in Love, Oral, Outdoor Sex, Past Drug Use, Poisoning, Voyeurism) – Sherlock and John meet as competing bakers on The Great British Bake Off. There’s intense baking, lush recipes and enticing food. Mycroft, guilt, past sins in chocolate and gingerbread. And love. That too.

Fallen Through Time by susandwrites (E, 102,040+ w., 39/? Ch. || Outlander Fusion / Victorian AU || WIP || Time Travel, First Meetings, Meet-Cute, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex/Fingering, Riding Crops, Rough Sex, Floor Sex, Breath Play, Light BDSM, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Switching, Romance, Sex to Love) – Inspired by my love of Outlander, but not exactly an Outlander AU. Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective, finds himself in Victorian London while investigating a murder. The first person he meets is Doctor John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers and his world is irrevocably altered.

Reichenbach Falls - Déjà vu by VeeTheRee (M, 180,436+ w., 29/303 Ch. || WiP ||Gravity Falls / Multifandom AU || Alternate First Meeting, Gay Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Unilock, Summer Romance/Love, Fluff, Insecure Sherlock, Villain Mary, First Kiss, Slow Burn, Doctor Who, Supernatural, Canadian John, French Canadian Lestrade, Insecure Sherlock, Mystery, Domestic Fluff, Developing Relationship Summer Love, Light Angst, BAMF! John, Case Fic) – Two Canadians, two Brits studying in Canada, and an upkeeper walk into a Mystery Shack…. and live there. Summer holidays are here, and the step-siblings, Irene Adler and Sherlock Holmes, find themselves in a boring town called Reichenbach Falls, Oregon, USA. It isn’t as boring as it seems, however, once Sherlock stumbles upon a mystery journal, and the author is unknown. The journal contains ciphers, a strange colour wheel, and information about magical creatures that are said to be looming in the Northwestern forests. With mysteries to solve in hand, he and Irene set out to get to the roots of the town, and the abrupt disappearance of the author of the journal. But they’re not alone - John Watson, quite the handsome nephew of the Mystery Shack owner Greg Lestrade, is on their side to help out, plus mess with Sherlock’s feelings, in a good way. Shenanigans, romance, fun, danger, and deductions ensue. Oh, and there’s also occasional SuperWhoLock and two dorky Winchester brothers to spark up the action later on. Part 1 of the Reichenbach Falls series

To the Sticking Place by blueink3 (E, 121,973 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Musical Theatre AU || Showmance, Friends to Lovers, Bickering, UST / RST, Fluff, Virgin Sherlock, BAMF John, New York City / Broadway) – Renowned Shakespearean actor Sherlock Holmes has finally burned all of his bridges in the theatre industry save for his constant director, Greg Lestrade. John Watson has made a name for himself in the musical theatre circuit, but age and injury are working against him. Can they reinvent themselves for an all-male Macbeth without killing one another? Part 1 of the Screw Your Courage series

Bel Canto by bendingsignpost (T, 127,481 w., 16 Ch. || Phantom of the Opera AU || Secret Identity, Sherlock’s Violin, Operas, Aristocracy, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Disguise, Inheritance, Genderqueer Character, Classical Music, Singing) – After years of waiting for wealthy patrons to faint, Dr John Watson discovers a far more interesting patient in the opera house basement.

Welcome to Silent Hill by Cleo2010 (M, 130,227 w., 37 Ch. || Silent Hill Fusion || POV First Person Sherlock, Unrequited Love, Psychological Horror, Violence / Gore, Monsters, Nudity, Drug Use, Harm to Children, Cults, Distressing Imagery, Torture, Death) – John is missing. When Sherlock receives a text summoning him to Silent Hill he's intent on reclaiming his friend but the town has other ideas. Our detective must battle through a world shaped by his own troubled psyche as he uncovers the town's secrets, attempts to find John and hunt down Jim Moriarty. Part 1 of the Welcome to Silent Hill series

Drift Compatible by J_Baillier (E, 130,380 w., 26 Ch. || Pacific Rim Fusion || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate First Meeting, Angst, Family Drama, Accidental Telepathic Voyeurism, Martial Arts, Sci-Fi, Internalised Homophobia, Rubbish Siblings, Army Doctor John, Medical H/C, Bullying, Neurodiversity, PTSD, Drug Use, Depression, Mourning, Adventure, Hurt/Comfort, UST/URT) – A washed out war hero struggling with his past. A prodigy who wants nothing to do with his family legacy. Both are looking for something—and someone—worth fighting for in a world where human civilisation is constantly under threat.

Out There by DiscordantWords (T, 131,695 w., 10 Ch. || X-Files Fusion || Slow Burn, UST, Case Fic, Government Conspiracy, Aliens, UFOs, Mutants, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, Coma) – FBI Special Agent John Watson, medical doctor and army veteran, is assigned to assist eccentric genius Sherlock Holmes with paranormal investigations on the X-Files project.

Omens On Baker Street Series by WorseOmens (NR, 155,294+ w. across 3 works || Series WiP || Sherlock / Good Omens Crossover || Post S4 Sherlock, BAMF Aziraphale, Soft Crowley, Jealous Crowley, Fluff, Angst, General Idiocy, Misunderstandings, Crimes, Humour, Pining, Crimes, Magical Shenanigans, Unlikely Friendships, ?Slow Burn, True Forms, Ineffable Dads, South Downs) – Sherlock and John are no longer the only crime-solving disaster duo in London. After Sherlock unknowingly wrongs a demon, he finds himself with two mysterious rivals in the detective scene. For Crowley and Aziraphale, it's just a bit of fun, but they end up learning more about human nature than they bargained for.

Skeletons by flawedamythyst (T, 174,262 w. across 3 works || Nightmare Before Christmas Fusion || Implied Character Death) – Sherlock's refusal to talk about his past hides far more skeletons than John could ever have guessed at. Halloween-esque AU.

In the Deep, Where Dark Things Sleep by HardlyFair (M, 184,979 w., 26 Ch. || Scorpio Races AU || Graphic Violence, 1960′s, Slow Burn, Past Drug Use, Bed Sharing, Water Horses, Folklore, First Kiss/Time, Horror Elements, Vet!John, Protective John, Magical Realism, Horse Racing, Mutual Pining, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort) – The closer time crawls to November, the more water horses the Scorpio Sea spits out. The colder Thisby becomes. Sherlock Holmes is an islander - completely surrounded by the water. John Watson, he knows, comes from the mainland and lives for the Races. On the first of November, Sherlock will race. The man holding steady by his side is someone he never expects. A Scorpio Races AU (Maggie Stiefvater), but no knowledge of the book needed.

Rom-com adaptations... Series by MorganeUK (T, 211,229+ w across 8 works || Series WiP || Assorted Crossovers || Rom-Coms, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Friendship, Additional Tags Per Story) – Mostly Johnlock with Mystrade or Lestrolly. If you want a movie to be johnlocked, let me know :-) Each story is completely different from the other!

Enigma by khorazir (M, 289,667 w., 23 Ch. || Codebreaker / WWII / Imitation Game-Inspired AU || Case Fic, Espionage, Period-Typical Homophobia / Sexism, Pining Sherlock, Inexperienced / VirginSherlock, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Non-Graphic Violence) – It’s the autumn of 1941, war is raging in Europe, German U-boats are raiding Allied convoys in the Atlantic, the Luftwaffe is bombing English cities, and the cryptographers at Bletchley Park are working feverishly to decode their enemies' encrypted communications. One should consider this challenge and distraction enough for capricious codebreaker Sherlock Holmes. But the true enigmas are yet waiting to be deciphered: an unbreakable code, a strange murder, and the arrival of Surgeon Captain John H. Watson of the Royal Navy.

Over/Under Series by khorazir (M, 319,561 w. across 5 works || Cabin Pressure Crossover || Post-S2 / Reichenbach, ReunionFriendship, Angst, Humour, Pining, Cycling, Mountains, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Dev. Rel., Case Fic, First Kiss, Pining, Family Issues, Inexperienced Sherlock) – After his Fall, Sherlock travels the world to destroy what remains of James Moriarty's criminal empire. When things don't go according to plan and he finds himself in desperate need of a discreet means of travel, cue MJN Air ...

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #crossovers and fusions #to read #Anonymous #long post #e-rated fics

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earthbased · 3 years

Text

Making Your Own Correspondences for Plants

Disclaimer: This post is about magical and spiritual use, not medical, and medical use is mentioned only for historical examples. Don’t mess around with medicine unless you know what you’re doing, or consult someone who does. I’ve previously written about where the majority of magical plant correspondences tend to come from in modern pagan & witchcraft sites and books. If you decide to DIY some or all of your correspondences, how you do it will depend on what your beliefs and practices are. Some things to consider:

Do you believe the magical properties are already in the plants, are unchangeable, and need to be discovered? Or that they depend on your beliefs and associations?

Do you value individuality and personal significance, or having shared lore with your community and culture? Or both?

Do you value the process of relationship-building with a plant or spirit?

Do you value receiving lore through ancestry or lineage? Does it matter to you how old it is?

I’m going to delve deeper into 3 main sources: existing lore, physical characteristics and the plant itself.

===1. Building upon existing lore===

Learning the history and folklore of a plant, even if it doesn’t have existing magical uses, is likely to give you ideas and a deeper understanding. Some potential sources of lore: recorded folklore and common names, oral tradition, fairytales and nursery rhymes, etymology, flower meanings, appearances in mythology, appearances in well-known books or poems, pop culture and fiction.

Whether or not you want to think about it, the greater story of your practice includes the story of your lore and how it came to you. Oftentimes that story involves violence, theft, deception and ridicule. BIPOC have written at length about cultural appropriation [link, link, link, link] & cultural genocide as one of the ongoing harms of colonisation and racism. If you’re not part of a culture that traditionally stewards a certain plant or body of lore, listening to (whether literally hearing or by other means) and respecting those people’s voices is your ongoing responsibility when engaging with it. Navigating these issues as a member of an oppressing group often involves ambiguity and discomfort. This is also part of the path. Remember that we’re blessed to have the opportunity to listen to these voices today. Others did not survive.

Practical uses, both modern and historical often include medicine, but there’s much more, e.g. thorny plants’ association with protection - not only because the thorns protect the plant itself, but because thorny hedges have been grown in many times and places to deter large animals or trespassers from crossing a fence. More recently, I suspect the modern-day association of lemon with cleaning products has led to its current use in magical cleansing. In any case plenty of common correspondences have arisen fairly recently from modern-day uses. Whether you place special value upon ancient or pre-modern lore is up to you. The reasons behind old magical lore were often related to practical use, so I see it as a continued tradition.

===2. Looking at physical characteristics===

What you see depends on how you look (and think). Many plants have heart, star or crescent-shaped leaves. What do these things mean to you? A crescent usually reminds me of the moon but you could also see it as a claw or a smile, two things with very different connotations. Sympathetic magic (a phrase from anthropology) is the idea that things can magically affect each other based on their similarities. But beyond the obvious, there are also symbolic meanings. Many unrelated trees across the world happen to have dark red oozing sap, often earning them a name like "bloodwood". A straightforward use of sympathetic magic would mean it can affect blood, e.g. to stop bleeding. But symbolically, blood often means vitality, death, birth or rebirth, so that oozy tree could be thought to represent any of those things too. Learning observable facts about a plant can be a rich source of inspiration and understanding. Some things to consider: habitat, place of origin, endangered or invasive status, the wild form of a domesticated plant, gardening information, close relatives, lifecycle and seasonal cycle, and parts of interest (leaves, roots, flowers, seeds). For example, a plant well known for its flowers could have something interesting about its seeds which are usually overlooked. The internet is a bountiful source of information, as are books. Your local community likely includes many people who might be willing to pass on their knowledge, for example in local gardening or nature enthusiast clubs, nurseries, environmental groups, and cultural organisations.

You can apply a traditional method of Western astrology to make brand new correspondences to use for sympathetic magic, even with plants that have never been used this way before. This involves comparing the physical qualities of plants (shape, colour, smell, texture etc) with a list of qualities associated with each planetary energy. You might pick one or two features that stand out and concentrate on those. The planet it matches best is considered its ruling planet and will determine its magical application. It's possible for different parts of a plant to have different ruling planets, but not necessary. Common references for planetary qualities include Renaissance philosopher HC Agrippa and famous herbalist Nicholas Culpeper, but your associations may differ, or come from another system of astrology entirely. In any case, once the plant is connected to the planet, it’s also connected to everything else the planet represents. For example, if I determined that a herb in my garden had Venusian qualities, I’d consider it useful for any magic involving love, beauty, harmony or comfort. By a similar process you can assign herbs to a list of deities, zodiac signs, tarot cards, or whatever you want.

===3. Asking the plant itself===

What this looks like depends on your personal beliefs and practices. It might mean asking an individual plant or a spirit representing the whole species. It may involve trance or ritual, or be as simple as listening inwardly for an internal voice in your thoughts. Will you seek out a living plant, contact it through its dried leaves, invoke its spirit into your space or meet it in a non-physical plane? Additionally, not all communication is about sound and words. Among humans some languages are signed and some people communicate with picture boards. Images, emotion, gesture, touch, music and body language are things to consider.

In some belief systems listening to plants may be interpreted more metaphorically, involving intuition or imagination. Using intuition-enabling practices such as dream work or trance may help you to connect your accumulated knowledge to a spiritual or magical meaning. Imagination and roleplay is also a way of gaining a new perspective, such as the deep ecology practice of a psychodrama called the Council of All Beings (note that the original form was heavily influenced by misappropriated Native American practices and stereotypes).

“What [something/someone] is telling me” is a phrase that can be used literally or figuratively in English. In other languages, especially Indigenous ones, such a distinction may not exist. This use of grammar can reflect a way of thinking and relating that considers humans as one part of a whole. If you were raised in a colonial mindset, asking the plant about its correspondences (whatever form that takes) and considering the plant’s priorities can be a way of challenging that mindset by reframing the interaction as one between two beings, rather than a human acting on a passive object. To me this way of thinking invites respect and reciprocity. How you can act upon that is a topic for another post, or maybe another author.

#advanced witchcraft #green witchcraft #paganism #magical correspondences #witchcraft #magick #Herbal magick #herbal magic #wicca

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veorlian · 3 years

Text

forged of steel

pairing: Kaz Brekker x Inej Ghafa

rating: T for stabbing

A reflection on freedom, unsaid words, and the rooftops of Ketterdam.

read it on ao3 here

Inej

The Barrel had reason enough to be haunted. People from all across Kerch and beyond came to Ketterdam, only to meet an untimely end in either the dark alleys or brightly-lit streets. Dazzling lights and hidden blades were the only constants there. No mourners, no funerals, in the depths of the city. Ghosts were a dime a dozen. But only one had a title.

The Wraith, they called her. Never above a whisper. It was said she carried a hundred knives. A thousand knives. That she could walk through walls. That she’d killed a man at 100 paces, only by looking at him. That she could steal the secrets from inside your own head.

Inej’s father had told her once that many boys would bring her flowers, but the right boy would learn her favourite flower, her favourite song. Inej had been given flowers before. Flowers withered. Their scent turned cloying, their colours faded. You learned, in the Menagerie, that even your favourite flowers could be ruined.

Kaz Brekker had given her a knife. Flowers withered, but the sharp bite of steel was evergreen.

They will fear you, he’d said to her. Good, she’d replied.

Her knives were wicked-sharp and unyielding. Like him. Like her, now.

Everyone knew that the rooftops of Ketterdam were hers and hers alone. No one dared climb there, lest the Wraith find them. The wind against her face and the red and gold reflection of the setting sun on the harbour tasted like freedom.

And if occasionally she wished for flowers carried in a gloved hand, as she lay unsleeping and alone in her room, that was a secret she could keep.

Kaz

Kaz Brekker was not a patient man by nature, but it was the only way to survive. You waited for your enemy to show their hand. You waited for your mark to come to you. You waited for years until your vengeance burned like ice. Little by little, brick by brick, Kaz had learned patience.

He wasn’t patient now, as he waited for Inej to arrive. His fingers drummed along the table, waiting for the slight change in the air that meant she was near. A weakness, he thought, to be so unnerved. She could take care of herself. He couldn’t stop himself from looking at the clock.

He pointedly ignored his slight sigh of relief when she appeared next to him. Not too close. Never too close.

“And?” he asked brusquely.

“Hello to you too, Kaz,” she said. He didn’t smile.

“I don’t pay you for politeness,” he said.

“You couldn’t afford it,” she replied dryly. Soundlessly, she sat down in the chair by the window. One by one, she cleaned her knives. Her Saints, for all the good it did her. “Brahm Daven has a lover. They meet once a week at a run-down inn. The landlady has a loose tongue.”

“Name?”

“The landlady, or the lover?” Her lips quirked up in the ghost of a smile, one that he caught himself almost sharing.

“The lover, Inej,” he said, his voice clipped.

“Sylvia Aseren.”

“Married?”

“To a very wealthy man. They’re planning to elope.”

“So that’s why Daven’s been looking for money. Unlikely that he’ll return any loans, then.” Kaz flipped through the papers on his desk, making tidy annotations. There was an almost imperceptible rustling of fabric as Inej leaned forward. He might’ve missed it, if he wasn’t so damnably attuned to her every move.

“They might pay for silence.”

“And the husband might pay for the information. What else?”

She listed off the sins she’d collected like she was telling him the time of day. Discretions, petty and major crimes, who was bribing who and why. Kaz carefully filed the information away, making a note of potential targets, problems to address, people to rob. And all the while, the gentle click of her knives being set down next to her. It was dangerously close to domestic.

“You were late,” he said, once she’d finished. A flicker of something — annoyance? Embarrassment? Anger? Crossed her face.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Someone spilled oil along a stretch of rooftops. Had to take the long way around,” she explained. And then, “They’ll have to try harder if they want to stop me.”

“No one can stop you,” he said quietly, and he looked away from what he saw in her eyes.

Inej

It was just another night in the Barrel. Inej was returning from her evening activities (a little light larceny) when she felt eyes on her back, and heard the clatter of a deliberately loosened roof tile. She was almost at the Slat, firmly in Dregs’ territory. Whoever was out on the rooftops was either a fool or desperate. Maybe both.

She could see Kaz’s room from where she was, the light silhouetting him in the window. He’d left it open for her. He glanced down at his watch and she saw him frown. Ah, she was late again.

Her eyes lingered on Kaz. A mistake.

A knife came arcing towards her, and she neatly dodged away, already turning around to face her attackers. She dodged a second knife, and a third, but she didn’t move away in time for the gunshot to her leg. She offered up a prayer to her Saints, and then she was moving.

There were five men behind her. Fools, then, if they thought that was enough to stop the Wraith.

The first one went down with a blow to the back of his head. The second was knocked clean off his feet, hitting his head on the roof. The third she brought down with a roundhouse kick to the face. In the dim light, she saw fear in the eyes of the other two. One stumbled back, landing squarely on a trap tile. He went careening off of the roof, four stories down. The last one held the gun. It still smoked slightly from the shot to her leg.

“Who do you work for?” she asked, knowing that it would be the first thing Kaz would ask her. Probably before he asked if she was okay, damn him. The man raised his gun, pointing it directly at her. His hands shook. Inej tested her weight on her bad leg. It burned, but it didn’t give out.

The gun cocked. Inej rolled to the side and drew Sankta Lizabeta. She pressed a kiss, a prayer, to the flat of the blade before letting it fly. The man fell, crashing heavily onto the roof. It was over in seconds.

Inej exhaled, pressing a hand to the wound on her leg. The first three were still breathing, although she didn’t envy them the headache they would have in the morning. She went to retrieve her knife, making a note of her attackers’ tattoos.

Inej prayed softly, and she went to see Kaz.

Kaz

Kaz heard the gunshot, but that wasn't unusual. If you couldn't hear a fight in the Barrel, the saying went, you were probably already dead.

Inej appeared a moment later. She landed heavily on the ground and Kaz was immediately on his feet. His eyes flickered down to her leg. Sweat beaded her forehead, flyaway hairs tugged from her neat braid.

"Who was it?" he rasped. There was a flash of humour in her dark eyes.

"Medicine kit please, Kaz," she said, easing herself down into her chair.

"Inej—"

"Medicine. Kit. Please. I'm no good to anyone if I can't climb."

He handed her the kit, carefully avoiding touching her hand as he did. He pulled away, moving over to the open window. His eyes scanned the streets for more threats.

“Three from the Razorgulls, two from the Black Tips,” she said, hissing as she applied a poultice to the wound.

“Dead?”

“Two dead, three unconscious.”

“Only five against you?” he asked. “Careless of them.” He did look down at her, then. A mistake. His voice didn’t shake, but he couldn’t disguise the anger in his eyes. Not from her.

“I have to send a message,” he said roughly.

“I’ll be fine, Kaz. There doesn’t have to be more violence,” she murmured. She wrapped a clean bandage around her leg.

“And when they send more than five?”

“I can handle myself,” she said coolly.

He could see the pain stamped on her face, could hear her uneven breathing as she patched herself back up. And always, always the white-hot anger that he couldn’t help her, couldn’t move any closer.

“No unnecessary risks,” he said. And then, before he could stop himself: “You’re too valuable to lose.”

“I’ll be ready.” Her eyes were darker than the sky. “Trust me.” Kaz looked away.

“Very well,” he said eventually. “Then let’s get to work.”

Inej

The Wraith, they called her. She wrapped the name around herself like a cloak as she vanished into the night. The rooftops of the Barrel shifted, replaced with traps and alarms carefully crafted by Wylan and Jesper. Anyone that dared set foot in Inej’s domain was sent tumbling down. Word spread like wildfire, as it so often does. Kaz made sure that it did.

It was said that she’d bewitched the houses of Ketterdam. That she could hear you coming from a mile off, and appear behind you in the space of a breath. That you would be dead before you saw her.

Soon enough she was able to race along her rooftops uninterrupted again, the moonlight her only witness.

Kaz Brekker would never give her flowers. But perhaps he’d given her something better.

#your honour i love them #a little short because i'm still just trying to figure out how to write them #six of crows #kanej

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