#much more restricted in aus to murder a couple.

[puphoods]

trying and failing to think of a way to phrase a post about it. a police officer murdered a gay couple in australia with his police issued firearm. he turned himself in but is apparently refusing to cooperate with the search for their bodies. the couple were jesse baird and luke davies. if you could keep them in your thoughts

#et cetera #the officer was an ex partner of jesse i just really hope the story around this doesnt turn into #it being about some spurned ex lover rather than the focus on a cop using his access to weapons that are #much more restricted in aus to murder a couple. #ask to tag

[hanjisick]

chemical infatuation

genre. yandere au. patient!jisung x researcher!reader

desc. jisung takes part in a high-paying yet sketchy study with seemingly no risks, but the injection causes him to quickly grow obsessed with the daytime staff member assigned to his study.

warnings. needles. vomit. murder.

wc. 3.5k

“is it a bad time to tell you that i’m a little claustrophobic?” your patient, han jisung, nervously shifted in his seat, fiddling with the hem of his sweater.

“we have to keep you in this containment during our research.“

the containment room, with its dim lighting and cushioned walls, seemed to close in on him. the dimensions felt constricting, heightening the anxiety surging through his veins.

every inch of the space was under surveillance, every move to be meticulously scrutinized by the watchful eyes of researchers.

what a sketchy situation. but it was better than he had expected from a craigslist ad that he had chanced upon.

the snap of your rubber gloves pulled him away from his thoughts, “it isn’t too late to back out, we have a few more candidates willing to take your place.”

500 million won. that was enough for him to do anything.

“i’m fine. i’m ready.”

“alright then, pull your arm out of your sweater for me.”

“i have a tank top underneath.” the boy shuffled out of the sweater and placed it onto his lap.

“and as the paperwork says, you have no allergies, anaphylaxis, or any history of mental illness?”

“nope.”

he flinched as the cool alcohol pad met his bicep.

“the medication we are testing for you should not hurt you much as far as we are concerned,” you began prepping the needle and syringe, “the only side effects that we predict could be a minor headache for a couple of days. it is not dangerous.”

jisung closed his eyes as you squeezed his arm slightly, pushing the needle through his skin.

you gently placed the gauze onto his arm, “finished. how do you feel immediately?”

“normal. a little shaken up from nerves, but no problems. what do i do now?”

“you’ll be watched for a month. the only restrictions are that you aren’t allowed to leave this room or use any devices.”

the idea of isolation and confinement weighed a bit heavily on him, but he was determined to see it through.

you motion towards the mattress in the corner, “we will change your bedding twice throughout the month. let us know if you are uncomfortable with the temperature of the room, need extra bedding, or anything else.”

jisung nodded.

“let us know if you need to use the bathroom and we will temporarily disable the cameras for your privacy. but we will take urine samples if we deem it necessary.”

“and what about food?”

“you’ll be fed three meals per day, with two snacks.”

“thank you. that’s all i need to know,” he paused for a moment, “other than your name. what’s your name?”

“y/n l/n,” you gather your paperwork, “your personal belongings will be returned once we go through to make sure there is nothing that could alter our research.”

the door had closed and locked, leaving jisung alone in the room with just his thoughts to keep him company until his stuff was given back to him.

Beginning Notes

Han Jisung (Male)

23 years old, no known medical problems

Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.

Intramuscular, Upper Arm

Notes: Jisung feels nervous about receiving the injection. Administered at 16:38 with no noted side effects.

you watched the boy through the array of cameras placed strategically throughout the room as he lay on the mattress. his sweater was haphazardly discarded across the room, a seemingly small attempt to make himself more comfortable in the sterile, plain environment.

despite the initial nerves of a new medication, nothing had seemed to happen. at the fifteen-minute mark, you stepped away from the cameras for a moment— if there were to be a severe sudden reaction, it would have manifested by now, you reasoned.

throughout your shift, your attention continued to drift back to the screens displaying jisung’s every move. with each glance, you found him engaged in various activities—doodling, writing in a journal, or simply staring off into space, lost in thought.

nothing seemed to go wrong. perhaps this medication would be approved.

Overnight Notes

Han Jisung (Male)

23 years old, no known medical problems

Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.

Intramuscular, Upper Arm

Notes: Jisung ate all of dinner and requested night snacks. He had slept well. No side effects were recorded.

you press the bright red button, lowering your mouth to the microphone.

“how is everything down there? any side effects?”

“y/n? is that you speaking?”

“yes,” you were surprised that the boy had remembered your name, “what are your symptoms?”

“you should come into the room to speak with me. i’m lonely here.”

“i have to record your symptoms. i can’t come down there unless i know that you’re stable.”

the microphone had only barely picked up his sigh. “i’m normal.”

“any headaches? dizziness? dry throat?”

“nope. nothing. everything’s fine. just lonely.”

you sigh. he seemed normal. he was lying in bed, staring up at one of the cameras.

so it was fine, right?

you push open the door, greeted by the grinning patient on his mattress.

“you smell nice. what products do you use?”

what an odd conversation starter. “nothing special. just a lavender-scented body wash.”

he nods. “the overnight staff were fine, but i think that i prefer you. i can’t put my finger on it quite yet.”

was jisung naturally this blunt with his words? or was he flirting with you?

“what do you plan to do during your stay here?”

he leans back against the cushioned wall, “i compose songs for artists. i figured that it would be easy to get a lot of work done in here.”

“i see. is that your songwriting journal then?” you eye the small black book and pen next to him.

he takes the pen into his hand, “yup. it’s one of the few things that i brought here.”

“you’ll have to show me some of your work sometime throughout the month.”

“you can look at my work now,” he grins, clicking the pen, “my name is HAN. look me up.”

the name stays in your mind as you exit the room and lock the door. you find your way back to your seat at the cameras to supervise the man, pulling your lunch out of your back.

one hand holds a sandwich as the other browses through safari, looking at the songs that your patient had composed.

you hadn’t heard any of them, but perhaps it would be a good idea to look into the lyrics. it would give you things to talk about with him for the following month.

the rest of the shift was boring. you watched as he wrote in his notebook, ate his food, hummed to himself— nothing interesting.

the most intriguing thing that you experienced was the occasional ‘help!’ button being pressed, only for the man to announce that he needed to take a piss.

your misery was ended once your coworker entered the room, placing his keys and bag down on the table.

a sigh of relief left you, “thank god. it’s so boring.”

“thanks for the warning.”

Overnight Notes

Han Jisung (Male)

23 years old, no known medical problems

Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.

Intramuscular, Upper Arm

Notes: Jisung ate all of dinner and requested no night snack. Awoke at 01:00 and 03:00. Specified no reason for waking. Special request for morning staff: Deliver lavender-scented body wash.

your eyes stared down at the note with slightly widened eyes.

perhaps he had good intentions, perhaps your defenses were just too high. after all, he might just like the scent of lavender like you did.

“good morning. any headaches? dizziness? dry throat?”

“my arm is a little sore, and i’m a bit restless, but that is all.”

you record his answers— finally something to write down.

“i saw your request from last night. i’ll get a staff member to deliver your body wash. did you run out? i’m sure we gave you enough.”

“i still have some. i just wanted to try yours out.”

how strange.

“you’re coming down to see me today, right?”

“not today. i want to see if your symptoms worsen throughout the day. it’s best to be careful.”

you watch through the camera as he slumps back, visibly disappointed.

today, the boy had begun to act a little bit differently. every couple of minutes, he would stop his writing to look up at the camera.

you would hold eye contact with him for a few moments, even though he couldn’t see you before he would look back down again with a large grin that wasn’t on his face before.

soon, the bottle of body wash was delivered to his room.

“y/n! is that you?” he jumped out of bed as the lock clicked, only to be disappointed to see a man in a mask and gloves leave it right inside of the door.

he crept towards the bottle, snapping the lid off, holding it up to his nose, then inhaling deeply.

“it smells like you.”

you clenched your teeth, writing down the reactions.

walking over towards the center of the room, he peeled his t-shirt off his frame, then pulled down his sweatpants and boxers in one go.

you shrieked, slamming the buttons to disable the camera.

he was supposed to tell you when he needed privacy.

with shaky hands, you began to jot down his behaviors.

once ten minutes had passed, you turned the camera back on in hopes that he was decent again. this time, you had enabled the camera with caution, only to see that he was showering.

you disable it once again and decide that this would be a good time to have lunch.

the image of the naked man was etched into your mind as you tried to force the salad down your throat.

it was a good thirty minutes until you got the courage to turn the camera back on, sighing in relief as you saw him on his bed with sweatpants on once again.

jisung stared up at the ceiling with hooded eyes, chest rising and falling— you weren’t sure what was going through his mind.

you press the button. “everything alright in there?”

he perked up, “y/n, everything is just fine. i wish you were in here, though, instead of behind that stupid camera.”

you bite your lip uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond.

changing the subject would be best.

“lunch will be delivered soon.”

“good. i’m a bit hungry.”

you take your finger off of the button, sitting back in your seat, waiting for your shift to be over.

Overnight Notes

Han Jisung (Male)

23 years old, no known medical problems

Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.

Intramuscular, Upper Arm

Notes: Jisung ate most of dinner and requested no night snack. Had difficulty falling and staying asleep. Awoke many times to journal. Refused conversation about his symptoms.

“y/n? you’re here, right? right?”

you had only just opened the door to the surveillance room, met with his muffled voice through the speakers.

“y/n? y/n? baby? my beautiful doll?”

the nickname caught you off guard, breath caught in your throat.

before answering, you grabbed the pen off the desk to jot down the behavior. this was not normal.

he stared directly into the camera. “i know you’re here. i journaled the minutes until he would leave and you would replace him.”

your legs shook as you took a seat.

why were you so nervous? it wasn’t like you were in danger. the door was locked. his body language did not seem hostile.

but his eyes told a different story. they were dark, crazed, restless.

“doll? can you hear me? can you hear me?”

your voice stuttered, “what are your symptoms?”

“i missed your voice, y/n.”

“any headaches? dizziness? dry throat?”

“none,” jisung answered quickly, “so you can come down and see me, right?”

you lied through your teeth. “not today. we are still a bit worried about yesterday’s symptoms.”

“fuck!” his forehead hit against the wall.

you took your finger away from the button.

he balled his hand into a fist before hurling it towards the same wall.

jisung crumbles to the floor. “i can’t take it anymore.”

“are you alright? are you in pain? do you need help?” you grasp your pen with an unsteady hand, “tell me what’s going on. talk to me.”

“i need to see you again, i waited all night just for you to tell me no.”

“it’s for the safety of you and myself.”

his voice was barely above a raspy whisper, “i promise i won’t hurt you, i’d never hurt you. i couldn’t hurt you.”

“jisung,” you started sternly, “i’m unable to see you. please abide by the rules of the study.”

“can’t i quit?”

“you signed a form stating that unless there is a medical emergency, you aren’t to leave this room. i’m quite not sure that you’re in your right state of mind right now.”

“i would be fine if you’d let me see you again.”

it was pointless to argue with the man, so you let go of the button, jotting down the conversation.

jisung did not eat, speak, or move from his spot that day.

Overnight Notes

Han Jisung (Male)

23 years old, no known medical problems

Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.

Intramuscular, Upper Arm

Notes: Jisung ate no dinner and requested no night snack. Did not sleep through the night. Refused conversation.

“doll, you’re back.” his raspy voice announced your presence just as you opened the door as if he was in the room with you.

on the camera, he was spread out in the middle of the floor like a starfish. his blonde hair covered his face, but you could still see the eye bags forming under his sunken eyes.

“i have a bit of a headache. i’m dizzy. my throat is dry,” he answered your questions for you, “will i get to see you today, doll?”

you were a bit afraid to answer, hesitating as you pressed the button, “i’m sorry. no.”

“but i will be able to see you after the study, right? after the study you’ll marry me, right?”

your heart dropped into your stomach at the words.

“i have a partner, jisung.”

“i know,” he smiled lightly, “it’s me. but soon i’ll be your husband, right?”

this was too much. you felt sick. you needed to alert the rest of the team and let someone else take over this case. hell, you might even quit your job.

“imagine you as han y/n. it sounds beautiful, doesn’t it?”

his crazed voice rang through your ears as you stood up from your seat.

“nobody else has ever made me feel this way, do you know that? all i want is you. and i’ve only seen you twice. isn’t that absurd? love is just so beautiful.”

his words caused you to still. you felt like a deer in headlights.

“do you think the shot is what made me crazy? because ever since we met eyes after you gave it to me, i couldn’t stop thinking about you. about your touch, even through the gloves. all of my songs have been about you. i even drew you.”

waves of nausea came crashing down on you.

“i can’t wait until i’m finally out of here. i can finally have you all to myself. i’ll kill that night staff for taking you away from me.”

jisung scoffed at the thought of him, “and he’s the one who gets the pleasure of passing by you every day? do you like him? i’ll gouge his eyes out and wear his skin if you like him more than me, hm?”

you raced towards the trash can in the corner of the room, stomach churning as your breakfast came right out of your mouth.

the smell was putrid, acidic, disgusting. but not as disgusting as the words of the sick man behind the camera.

“did you watch me shower, my love? i don’t mind if you did. your lavender body wash felt so good on my body, i imagined it was you in there with me, washing my body yourself—“

you ran out of the room, slamming the door behind you.

“he’s crazy! he’s gone mad!” you point towards the surveillance room, tears streaming down your face as you try to explain the situation to the nearest person that you can find.

“calm down. go to the break room. i’ll alert the rest and we’ll handle it.”

“you’ll be okay,” a staff member reassures, handing you a much-needed drink from the vending machine, “he won’t be able to escape. we will detain him and try to get him any help that we can.”

“even aside from how creepy he was, i just feel terrible, you know? i gave him that shot.”

“it isn’t your fault. he knew what he was getting into. we tried our best to determine the effects. there was no way of knowing.”

although he was right, guilt and horror still ate you up as you rested your head in your hands.

“this is why our job is important, so that only one person gets hurt instead of an entire population of people.”

“what a shitty job.”

he laughed as he got up, “tell me about it. i’m gonna go see what i can do to help. let us know if you need anything.”

the door closes and you lay your head down on the table, closing your eyes.

all you could think about was the man and his words.

‘i can’t wait until i’m finally out of here. i can finally have you all to myself. i’ll kill that night staff for taking you away from me.’

would he be able to leave? would he be able to get over this love sickness? is it reversible? nobody knew anything about it. the only thing that could be done is watching him.

it only seemed to get worse over the days, and you didn’t want to know what he would be like at the end of the month.

Overnight Notes

Han Jisung (Male)

23 years old, psychosis

Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.

Intramuscular, Upper Arm

Notes: Jisung ate no dinner and requested no night snack. Did not sleep through the night. Refused conversation aside from asking for previous staff, Y/N L/N.

you no longer worked with jisung. instead, you had been assigned to a new case.

“it isn’t too late to back out, we have a few more candidates willing to take your place.”

“i’m not nervous. go ahead and inject me, doctor,” the patient joked, pulling her sleeve up.

“and as the paperwork says, your only allergy is mild reaction to shellfish, but no anaphylaxis or any history of mental illness?”

“all correct.”

you were wiping her bicep with alcohol when the door had opened, screams piercing your ears from outside of the soundproof room.

“y/n?”

blood dripped onto the floor from his heaving form, eyes bloodshot and locked right on your form. in his hand, he held a loaded handgun, the smell of gun powder seeping into the room.

the patient in front of you screeched, immediately making a run for it before her brains were splattered across the room.

your ears rung from the shot, standing stalk still as jisung approached you.

everything was moving too quickly. you couldn’t process a single thing. your head was spinning. you needed to survive.

“please, i’ll do anything, don’t hurt me.”

“i told you. i won’t hurt you, i’d never hurt you. i couldn’t hurt you.” a bloody hand ran through your hair, taking advantage of your frozen figure.

“i can’t believe i’m so close to you right now.” his nose buried into your neck and you could feel the cold metal of the gun pressing against your back.

“they’re all dead. and you’re back.”

he dropped the gun to the floor, fishing through his pocket.

before you could register what was happening, jisung had already lodged a needle into your arm.

“sleep tight, my doll, i’ll get us out of here.”

#skz #stray kids #yandere stray kids #yandere skz #stray kids imagines #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz imagines #han jisung smut #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #skz scenarios #skz smut #skz masterlist #skz x reader #skz han #yandere han jisung #han jisung #stray kids han jisung #han #yandere jisung smut #yandere jisung #skz jisung #jisung x reader #stray kids jisung #jisung #stray kids imagine #stray kids oneshot #stray kids blurbs

[irenespring]

Possible House MD AU Project Plan

Someone stop me from making my next project a House MD/School for Good and Evil AU. I think SGE is such a fascinating world (and so much darker than I think people realize, especially people who are only familiar with the movie, there are two genocides in the first three books). I've been obsessed with it since before the third book was published and it is so much fun to adapt characters into. The possible project would be Hilson based, and involve some teacher characters from the actual SGE books.

I did this project with SVU a couple years ago and it was SO MUCH FUN. And all my readers were like "okay I have no idea what SGE is but I trust you" and ended up like "I care about this so much what the fuck is going on at the murder school how will the characters escape." I think the same reason it worked for SVU could make it work for House, though obviously it will be different because the characters are different and have different reactions to things. The issue is I only attempted such a crazy AU after like fifty works published in SVU, compared to what will be seven for House.

So bear with me, here are three possible options:

Everyone (Cuddy, Wilson, House, most side characters) are already in Good, but from vastly different backgrounds. This worked for the SVU AU because I think Good is the more interesting and more horrifying school (at least in Evil you're allowed to be gay). Wilson would be the character from "Woods Beyond" or outside the traditional fairytale realm, from a small village, Gavaldon. House is from an upper-class backgrounds within the fairytale realm. House already knew about the evils of Good, and really doesn't want to be there, because it's what his father trained him for. Wilson realizes he's gay and therefore doomed unless he and House (with help from Cuddy) can escape.

House is sorted into Evil, Wilson is sorted into Good. Mainly focuses on how unjust the sorting system can be, since in the books illustrated that a lot of Evil students were abused as children, which spurred on their behavior. Focuses on whether or not someone can be different from what is assumed (Wilson hates the restrictions and fear in Good, House doesn't want to be Evil).

SGE traditional AU: Wilson is sorted into Evil, House is sorted into Good. They are both from Gavaldon, where they were codependent friends (Wilson was the golden boy, House was the outcast). Everyone is shocked, especially them. But like what happens in the books, they both learn that yeah...maybe there is some truth to the sorting. Wilson does like not having to pretend to be perfect and conform to societal rules, and also having an outlet for his inner mean-streak. House likes not being immediately treated as a monster and learning healing potions. They plan to wait out the school and live together with magic in the woods. Except that House hates Good's rules too, and Wilson discovers about 75% of Evil's students die. Things reach a boiling point when House and Wilson are discovered, and House refuses to apologize. Then they must find a way to escape before they are summarily destroyed.

#house md #hatecrimes md #fanfiction #alternate universe #fanfic writing #gregory house #james wilson #hilson #school for good and evil #I just remembered SGE exists and feel compelled to write about it #It's such an interesting fantasy dystopia and it is clear the author created it that way on accident #There is so much creepy horror-adjacent writing to be done #It would but the characters in so many Situations #However the premise is so bizarre I would need to bet on having enough readers trust me from past work that it wouldn't suck #Or readers who are just morbidly interested in whatever crazy nonsense is going on over there #I PROMISE IT WOULD BE COHERENT AND FUN

[amrass]

Fanfiction updates and excerpts 02.16.24

I think I am getting better after my burnout, which is nice! And I also finished all my main projects, so that's also nice. Thank you for all the kind feedback and well wishes I've gotten, I appreciate them loads.

My life seems to get steadily busier in spring. I'm observing Lent from 02.14 to 03.28 together with my fiancé, who is more religious/spiritual than me, but I enjoy the mental challenge. Our main way of fasting is restricting the internet outside of work, so I won't be online as much. But I still copy paste comments/messages with me, so I can answer when offline.

The upcoming projects are a few old ideas and a few new ones. Lots of Micah, as always. NSFW content under the cut.

Main works: 

Salt 

Colm/Micah, sugar daddy precanon AU, dark content. Currently at part 5, opening Arc 2: "Christmas with the O'Driscolls". Soon readers can look forward to heavy bondage, accidental retraumatization, a murder attempt, spanking, sounding, needle play and piercing play. And Owen O'Driscoll delivering the line "As a boy, I used to weep in butcher shops," while sneaking into Colm's bedroom at night to ... check out Micah. Here is an excerpt from chapter 6:

"Don't be scared," Colm said, choosing the moment when Micah steeled himself to press his nail into the nipple. He imagined the soft, pink space giving in to his finger, all those sensitive nerve endings giving a way for him, engulfing him like a cunt. The steel mechanism kept on making a slight scraping sound when Micah pulled at them, until he drew his legs up, spreading his knees while his ankles remained bound tight together. "You want more?" 

"I'll kill you," Micah mumbled. 

"Yeah, you want more." Colm kissed the skin between Micah's cheek and ear, then finished the remaining shirt buttons. He tugged the fabric to the side so that he could kiss the boy's shoulder, until the hunching made his collarbone jut forward. It looked delicious, and Colm sank his teeth into the bone until Micah whimpered. 

The Lost and the Lethal

A motorcycle gang AU set around 1990-2010, like in GTA 4: The Lost and the Damned, with the RDR2 main cast as bikers and their horses as smaller pets. While out riding, Arthur gets tasked with recovering Micah, who has been missing from the clubhouse for a few days. After finding him in a lethal condition, there's a race to get him to a hospital, with some help from fellow members and a threat from a rival MC gang. My first attempt at whump with an VdL vs O'Driscoll MC fight in the middle. Kind ZanaZira has been helping me out with this, she is a godsend!!!

Micah came and went to the clubhouse as he pleased, unless forced to stay due to an ankle monitor. He guarded his bike like Gollum with the Ring (a reference he wouldn't get despite the gang's frequent film marathons), but it had been parked in the clubhouse garage for a couple of days. Arthur had even gotten a chance to study the red skull details amid the black paint, and read the edgy quote about vengeance scratched into the fender of the bike.

"Just try to find him, that's all I ask," Dutch said.

"Alright," Arthur grumbled, not looking forward to the shift from open roads to city alleys, the car queues, and the trucks riding his ass like randy dinosaurs. Worst of all was the smog trapped between the tall buildings, tickling the scar tissue inside his lungs. "I'll do it."

The Sweet Escape

My take on the Morbellicious "Blessed are the Meek?" scenario. Arthur has Micah where he wants him, jailed in Strawberry, soon to be hanged. Threats, among other things, are exchanged through the window bars, while Arthur is barely concealed by the nightly rain fog, and Micah's cellmate is being an O'Driscoll flavor of bastard.

"I could use a toothpick, and ... " The hand found him and wrapped around his shaft, pulling him out from the fabric. The following silence made Arthur look down, focusing on Micah's expression behind the bars. Micah was staring at his cock. Arthur flushed; was there something wrong with it? The air was cold, and he was too uneasy to be fully erect, but ...

A whistle from the corner of the cell. "Holy shit, that's a huge dick."

Micah whipped around, "Shut the fuck up, O'Driscoll!" His grip on Arthur tightened like a vice, and he groaned like some sort of demonic background choir to Micah's shouting. "One more word and I'll crack you skull open like I did with your friend!"

"Hey, no fighting down there!" a lawman called from upstairs. Arthur and Micah froze. The O'Driscoll held a finger to his lips, and then fluffed his pillows as if getting comfortable before a show.

Other pieces I am thinking of a lot but have not written much of:

Untitled Catboy Micah fanfic 

CRACK. Arthur has to take Micah to the vet to get him fixed, because his kittens are overflowing in the camp. My notes are all there, I just need to write it in one go, as I do with crack fics.

Say that we're sweethearts again

Kind of a sequel to "Through the Wilderness" set 20-30 years later. Old!Micah/old!Arthur. An AU where (low honor) Arthur is tasked to find (low honor) Jack Marston. There's reason to believe (high honor??) bounty hunter!Micah is after him. Having had a stormy relationship ending in Dutch's death, the reunion is tense, and Jack doesn’t help matters. Lol, I loved playing low honor creepy Jack ...

Slug

WARNING: REALLY DARK, HORNY CONTENT. O'Driscoll Gang/Micah. Set in my MC AU, extremely dubcon biker gangbang, O'Driscoll Thrash Party … I wanna write Micah trying to steal from the O'Driscolls, getting chased by motorcycles, then waking up in a concrete garage of some sort. Will include duct tape, drugs, vibrators, boot worship, overstimulation, alligator clamps, spider gags, watersports, the writer slobbering all over the biker wear … Colm is overseeing the whole thing and being his beyond creepy self. Colom boy, I love youuuuu (as a fiction character yada yada)

And that's it! I have a few old projects mentioned in other posts that I might work on later, but for now, my main focus is Salt, the first chapter of the MC whump threeshot, and The Sweet Escape.

#amras writes

[tanoraqui]

"Shattered Heart at the Foot of Your Throne" for the fic title game?

ok obviously I have to respond with some sort of fealty kink. But which couple...

S & D Tier has been updating daily on youtube lately, which prompted me to read a bunch of fic, so let's say: au set in a low fantasy world equivalent to Arthurian legend, wherein there are knights and feudalism and magic is known but restricted to wizards, witches, fae and the occasional magical artifact, usually obtained on a quest.

For mumblemumble reasons, Morgan is King (gender-neutral) of a small kingdom, and for related and/or different mumblemumble reasons, Alex is their top knight (also gender-neutral). Morgan is Morgan; Alex has every nigh- or genuinely magical ability ever ascribed to a medieval knight - can go 9 days without sleeping or breathing, catch an arrow in midair and throw it back, personally slew a dragon by wrestling it nude and biting out its throat, etc.

The Catch, relative to canon: Morgan is generally known as just but merciful king, clever in diplomacy and mighty on the battlefield to protect and uplift their people. Alex is generally known as the greatest knight ever, obv, and good and true and ok a little zealous in battle, but also merciful, honorable, etc.

Then the kingdom of D-Tieria is threatened, perhaps by the much greater kingdom of Rooferia! Oh no, what will we do! But never fear, Morgan has convinced would-be Emperor Rex to winner-take-all single combat, just the two of them, no substitutes...but really it's just a delaying tactic, they know that winning would just make Roofer angry, and killing him might work but more likely his many ambitious potential heirs would try to prove themselves by conquering D-Tieria when he couldn't...

And, Morgan confesses to their most excellent and loyal knight in private, they've never actually killed anyone before, despite general assumption, and they really REALLY don't want to.

"...I could do it," Alex offers. "I've been...hiding something, too. Kinda the opposite thing. I love killing people. I mean, I REALLY love it. And I am SO good at it. Most of the time when I go on solo quests, I get the magic goblet or whatever in like a day, and then I use my magic to travel abroad and just go on murder sprees? I'm so sorry for lying to you about being good and noble and all that, if you want me to leave, I'll go - but I'll destroy Rex and his whole army on my way out, if you want - "

"Alex!" Morgan interrupts their nervous ramble before it can gain too much steam. "I...kinda guessed? And I'm not sending you anywhere except at Rex's armor, if you truly think you can best them."

"What? How? The guessing, now the besting Rex's people - that'll be easy."

"You lick your lips every time you get blood on them, and look hungry for more."

Alex internally: They look at my lips!

Morgan internally: Please do not ask how much I look at your lips.

Then Alex got to single-handedly salughter an army, and they both lived happily ever after. Then end!

#midku nimfa #ask meme #S&D tier #s & d tier #ficlet #my fic #this ended up cheerier than the title really implies but i couldn't bear to make alex ACTUALLY feel bad about murder #even for an au that's too ooc

[danggirlronpa]

Oh! Well I can solve the mystery for you. My first mom and my second mom were married before my second mom came out as a transwoman! They are both my biological parents. They got divorced before she came out, not because she came out or anything. They were very much already divorced when my second mom came out. I call her "second mom" because she's younger than my first mom.

Also, yeah, I totally agree that the fandom at large only headcanoning the Murder characters as nd is. Really bad, actually! I do forgive it more for Danganronpa specifically since. Most of the cast are murderers, lol, but when in fandoms with a ton of morally upright characters in it, only the villains are headcanoned as nd is just. Oof. I would love to see more characters like Izuku Midoriya being headcanoned to have bipolar, because (imo) I can definitely See it for him. Another character I headcanon as bipolar from Danganronpa is actually Kaede Akamatsu! She's great. I didn't mention her though since I tend to see V3 as taking place in a different universe unless it's a AU, tbh. But you're definitely right that it's an issue in fandom spaces. Funnily enough, my therapist specifically told me to headcanon more characters and/or create ocs with bipolar, so that's what I've been doing. She said it was good to see myself in characters.

But yeah!!! Sato & Mikan murder4murder nd couple who messily makes out!!! Tbh I think a lot of people forget that Sato and Mikan were Friends!!! I want to see more content out there exploring their dynamic. They are both So Normal about love (read: they both get extremely attached to people who show them even An Ounce Of Kindness. relatable tbh)

A FOURTH second mom option!! We Love To See It. (& you absolutely should headcanon characters as bipolar!! The reason I was specifically like "this isn't directed at you" was because it's important & wonderful to see people looking at characters like themelves - I just wanted a General Disclaimer, since DR is so. Gestures To DR. I'd LOVE to hear more about bipolar Kaede, what a great concept!!)

One of my (many) (sorry DR3 fans) gripes with DR3's choice to make Chiaki a Real Girl TM and setting Sato into the Reserve Course instead of making Sato the 16th student in Chiaki's place is that there's no indication of the group friendship we see in Twilight Murder Syndrome in the anime. (Especially when the game specifically hinted at Sato's ultimate talent! She mentions archery club! For no reason!! Except to establish the "ultimate sportsperson as class' first blackened" parallel to Leon!!) And there's a lot of other reasons that happened, too, including the anime relegating what was an ensemble cast into a couple mains and a series of background characters, and the overarching story choices that restricted their timeline.

But it's always SUCH a bummer to me to watch "Ibuki, Mikan, Hiyoko, Mahiru, and Sato had a complex group dynamic, the breaking of which ultimately led to the ruination of all their lives and the lives of several others" into "Mahiru had a girlfriend and it made her sad for a few minutes, and then everyone moved on." Like. There wasn't ANY other way to establish Hajime's character arc?? I have to stop or I'm just going to work myself up about DR3. But it bums me out. And I LOVE seeing representations of the dynamics that could've been. Sato and Mikan is a top tier of them for SURE.

#danganronpa #asks #anon #this strayed from the initial point. anyway youre SO right affection starved murder girls 4ever #talk to the mod

[hyperbeam33]

Some fun facts about my au.

If the character is in security breach or ruin your most likely able to get a version of them if you ask the right questions. For instance if you asked someone about eclipse he might just be askable all the sudden.

Angie goes by all pronouns other than he/him, if you ask her something with those pronouns another character will awnser with whatever he thinks is the truth, meaning you may get something she isn't willing to reveal or missinformation.

Most of the characters are almost completely free of others control. (As in the animatronics probably have less restrictions but also aren't forced to murder anyone) Having much more free will than anyone wanted them to have. Some of them are still overwhelmed by this.

The main gang each has a couple instincts and extra keen senses based on the animal their based off. For example, Roxy has keen senses, Freddy is extra sensitive when dealing with kids, ect. Sun and Moon also have infrared vision.

Dj music man is partially blind and uses security cameras to see better. He's also mute, but uses sign Language, with humans, and electronic messages, with animatronics and STAFF, to speak.

monty happens to be the most protective of children other than Freddy. He also likes showing love physically. curling his tail around people, just barely not touching them, giving high five, little pats on the shoulder, ect. He is also the closest to Angie.

Angie fears physical touch from anyone but Monty and moon, their the only ones who don't have to ask before touching her. She loves being carried and held, but won't let most even tap her shoulder. Even her mom isn't able to touch her without getting a flinch.

What other characters would you like to know about?

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 23 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

hello my loves! Some of you may have already seen this, but I have news! This fic is officially complete. There are thirty chapters, so you still have seven left after today’s update. I’ll be keeping the usual Tuesday/Saturday posting schedule, so you have a month left of updates.

Now that I am done drafting this fic, my requests will be open while I begin to bank up new chapters of the Hotch x Reader Scandal!AU that I plan to write next. Please send in requests here. I would also LOVE if you could fill out this survey about the Scandal!AU so I can get a sense of what you all would like. I will make sure to write it in a way that makes sense, even if you haven’t seen Scandal! 

As always, thanks so much for reading, y’all are just the best. 

Read previous chapters of this fic here!

contains: canon-typical descriptions of violence, cursing, hospital mention

wordcount: 2.3k 

A little while later, Hotch sends JJ and Emily to the school to interview the classmates of the students who had been murdered, and you and Morgan head off to the medical examiner’s office. 

“Find anything interesting in the calls from the tip line?” Morgan asks you as he pulls out of the parking lot, and you shrug. 

“I need to go back through my notes. There were a couple kids' names that came up, but I want to go back and cross check for the names that came up more than once-- i figure if the name only comes up once, it’s kids pranking each other and I don’t want to waste our time on dead ends. Garcia’s looking into a teacher for me, though.” 

“We just need a couple more puzzle pieces, and then it’ll all come together,” Derek says, more to himself than to you, and you murmur out your agreement as he pulls into the examiner’s office.

“Cause of death for Mrs. Mack and Mrs. Sutton was a gunshot wound to the neck. The daughters, to the abdomen,” the doctor says, passing over her report. “The men were all strangled. The boys by hand, the men with a garrote.”

“Any idea what order they were killed in?” You asked. 

“My guess is the women first, one right after the other. Then the sons, and the husbands.” 

“How did he stop the husbands from taking him down while he killed the sons?” Morgan asks skeptically. 

The medical examiner points out a bruise on Mr. Sutton’s skull. “Looks like he was knocked unconscious, maybe by the butt of the gun or something in the home.” She explains.

“Thank you,” you said to the medical examiner, who smiled and left you both to your work.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Morgan asks you.

“White man in his twenties or thirties, snubbed by a woman he desired for another man, taking out the families he’s convinced he’ll never have?” 

“Call Hotch,” he said, taking off at a brisk pace back towards the car and trusting you to follow. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and discovered that Garcia was already calling you. 

“Hi Garcia, can you patch Hotch in?” You asked. 

“Already here bug, and trust me, you’re gonna want to hear this.” She told you, and you put the phone on speaker so Morgan could listen in while he drove. 

“What did you find, Garcia?” Hotch asked. 

“So, I looked into Marc Vexper, and it turns out this long-term English sub has something to hide-- he didn’t make a single card purchase on either day that he was out, and his phone was completely off from the moment he stepped off the school’s campus to the time he returned.” 

“Morgan and I are just leaving the medical examiner’s office now-- Marc fits the profile to a tee.” You interject. 

“Oh but wait, the high school of horrors doesn’t end there,” Garcia warns you. “I took a peek at Marc’s texts looking for clues about his whereabouts, and I noticed some too-friendly chats with Victoria Sullivan, a student in his AP Literature class. Her phone was on both days, and I’ll give you one guess as to where she was both days-- and it wasn’t school.” 

“You’re kidding,” Morgan sighs out. 

“So did he groom Victoria into doing it herself, or was she an accomplice?” Hotch asked. 

“The men were strangled, Aaron. There’s no way she could have done that herself.” You tell him. 

“We need an address, Penelope.” Hotch demands. 

“Already on your phone. The station’s closest.” She tells you. 

“We’ll meet you there.” Hotch says, and the line clicks. 

In a routine you’ve performed too many times to count, Morgan flicks on the lights and sirens as you mount your phone with the GPS sending you in the right direction. It’s all the same as it usually is, so why are you so nervous? 

**********************

Hotch elects not to put on his lights and sirens as he approaches Mr. Vexper’s house, not wanting to alert him that anyone had found him out. There are two cars in the driveway-- a modest sedan with a few dings in it, and a shitbox of an old jeep with a parking permit for the local high school on the back bumper. 

“The girl is here-- she might be a hostage.” Hotch tells Spencer, who nods. “We need to be careful. There’s no need for any other kids to lose their lives,” he says, quietly opening up his car door and gesturing for Spencer to take a back entrance while he takes the front. He climbs the worn wooden steps and peeks into the window, seeing nothing before he takes one hand off of his gun to swing open the front door of the home, where he’s met face to face with the Victoria Sullivan, standing on the main stairway of the home, gun leveled square at the middle of his forehead. 

“Victoria, put the gun down,” Hotch says slowly, raising his own hands as a sign of good faith. “I’m here to help you. Where’s Marc?”

Before Victoria can answer, Hotch hears the woosh of metal in the air and feels an overwhelming crack in his legs, falling to the ground as he yelps in pain. 

“Run, Vicky! You know where to go!” Marc yells, and the girl disappears from Hotch’s blurring line of vision as March continues to beat on Hotch with a crowbar, stomping on his legs. 

Hotch vaguely hears Spencer's running footsteps, and Marc takes off, running in the same direction as Victoria. 

Spencer falls to the ground next to Hotch, attempting to gently tend to his injuries, but Hotch weakly waves him off. 

“Go, go, save the girl, he’ll kill her next. I’m okay. Go,” he coughs out, and after a moment’s hesitation, Spencer goes. 

Hotch groans as he gropes around in his pants pocket, pulling out his cell phone and calling Garcia. 

“I need help,” he says once the line clicks.

****************

If Aaron lived through this, you were going to kill him yourself. You knew you were being irrational, you knew it wasn’t his fault, and worst of all you know that he hadn’t even done something you could be mad at him for, like going in without backup. This was just the job. This just happened sometimes. And you were absolutely fucking livid that it was happening to him. Not to mention scared shitless. 

Morgan had pumped the gas as soon as Garcia called, but it still wasn’t fast enough. Your leg bounced anxiously in the passenger seat. 

“He’s gonna be fine,” Morgan attempted to placate you, but you wouldn’t have it. 

“You don’t know that,” you spat out. 

“He’s tough. He’s got a lot to stick around for. He’s gonna be okay,” He tells you, and this time you don’t argue.

When you finally pull up to the house, Aaron is on a stretcher being loaded onto an ambulance. You throw yourself out of the SUV before it’s even fully stopped, calling out for Aaron. 

“I’m okay,” he sputters out as you climb into the back of the ambulance. 

“No you aren’t, you asshole,” you scoffed at him, your voice a little watery. “Tell the paramedics what happened so they can help you,” you said, stroking at the hair at the top of his head as your chin quivered. 

“Don’t cry,” he says, reaching up for you and you see that his hands are bloody. 

“Shh, shhh. Don’t worry about me. Let them help you,” you calmed him down, trying not to let your tears interrupt the medics when his eyes roll into the back of his head and he loses consciousness.

 Aaron will live, and you suppose you won’t follow through on your threats to kill him. Once he’s in the hospital, they wheel him back to a restricted area, leaving you alone in a waiting room while the rest of the team finds the unsub. You call Jess, let her know what’s going on, but ask that she keep it from Jack until you’re back in the room with him and Hotch is able to talk to Jack himself. You didn’t want Jack to worry, and you knew that Aaron’s assurance that he was fine was the only comfort Jack would accept.

After a while-- it could have been thirty minutes or three hours, Emily appears in the waiting room..

“I was appointed to come check on you,” she says by way of greeting. “Have you seen him yet?”

“Not since they took him out of the ambulance. He looked… bad,” you struggle to find a word that explains the magnitude of it. 

“He’s gonna be fine. No gunshot wounds, just some nasty bruises. I’m sure it looked worse than it actually was.” She consoles you gently.

“I hope you’re right.”

At that moment, a doctor appears in the doorway. “For Agent Hotchner?” He asks, and you walk over to him. 

“I’m Aaron’s partner,” you explain, the word “girlfriend” feeling entirely too childish for the scenario. 

“Agent Hotchner is going to be just fine. His left leg is fractured slightly at the femur and the kneecap, but we’ve put him in a brace to stabilize the knee, and he should recover over the next eight to twelve weeks. He’ll need some physical therapy, and field work is out of the question until he is cleared, but he’ll make a full recovery.  He has a mild concussion and a few bruised ribs, but we’ve given him some meds for the pain and the concussion shouldn’t present any further complications.” 

No field work. Aaron was going to be pissed. “Thank you, doctor.” You said gratefully. 

“He’s been asking for you, if you’d like to follow me,” The doctor responds, and you allow him to lead you down a maze of hallways, leaving you just outside Aaron’s room, where his eyes are shut and his chest rises and falls slowly. Figures, you were sure he’d been up all night running through profiles in his head.

You sat on his right side, away from his injured leg, and rested your head against his mattress, near his hip bone. He looked so fragile like this, wrapped up in a thin blanket and a johnny, bandaged from his collar bone to his toes. You wondered, briefly, if he felt this helpless and frustrated the night that he picked you up from your old apartment. The tears well up against your will, but you allow them to fall, for a few moments. You had earned the right to care for him, to worry about him, to fret. You had earned the right to sit vigil at his hospital bed and try to force images of a lifetime lived without him to stop passing through your head. 

Aaron stirred, and you sucked in a quick breath, not wanting to wake him. He settled, again, and you rested your head back against the mattress, letting the gentle rhythm of his breath lull you to sleep. 

He twitches a little while later, and the sudden movement jolts you awake. His return to the waking world is slower, and you let him come at it at his own pace, not wanting to overwhelm him when he was probably already going to be in pain and disoriented. You hear him mumble out your name and you stand, placing one hand on his cheek and the other in his uninjured palm. 

“I’m right here, baby,” you whispered to him. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, trying to look you up and down without moving his neck. 

“Am I--” you chided gently. “Honey, I’m fine. Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” 

“My leg,” he tells you, trying to sit up, but you push back on his shoulders. 

“Absolutely not,” you tell him. “You broke your leg. You are staying in this bed until a doctor tells you otherwise.” 

“Fuck,” Aaron muttered out. Suddenly, a thought occurs to him. “Is Spencer okay? And the girl, Victoria Sullivan?” 

“The team took them both alive. Spencer is fine, just a little breathless from his run.” You tell him. 

“When is it gonna heal?” He switches topics back to his injury. 

“You mean, when are you going to be allowed into the field again?” You asked skeptically, and he at least has the good grace to look sheepish. “Not for at least six weeks, more than likely closer to ten, plus physical therapy.” 

“God damnit,” Aaron sighs. 

“It could have been a lot worse, Aaron,” you point out softly, and he looks up at you. 

“You’ve been crying.” He says softly. 

“No, I haven’t.” 

“Don’t lie to a profiler,” He chides you gently.

“Well, I’m the woman who loves you and I’ve earned the right to cry when you’re hurt.” You said defensively, but not unkindly.

“Hey, I’m okay. Really, I swear. Come up here,” he urges you, and you roll your watery eyes. 

“I’ll hurt you,” you tell him. 

“You’ll hurt me worse if you don’t come cuddle,” he pouts. 

“Corny bastard,” you chuckle, tenderly sliding into bed next to him. 

Unable to shift and cuddle, Aaron settles for reaching out for your hand, which you allow him to take in his own. He strokes his thumb over the back of your palm tenderly. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he whispers, and you might start crying again right there.

“Don’t do it again. I was ready to kill you myself,” you warned him. 

“Noted.” 

“We should call Jack. I didn’t tell him what was going on, I didn’t want to scare him. Jess knows.” 

“I just… want to hold your hand for a couple more minutes.” 

“Okay, love. A few more minutes.”

tagging:  @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee      @zheezs14      @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13  @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner  @ijustwannaread2k19    @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner  @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

[stupendousconnoisseurpuppy]

Back to back... Zenitsu X reader

This is a Kny modern AU starring our fabulous lemon boy Zenitsu!

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡(❁´◡`❁)｡.｡:+*

Enjoy~

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

You were an… interesting individual to say the least. Not so much that you could be classed a scumbag, but you could unabashedly say that you enjoyed the occasional fight on public transportation as much as the next person… It was a welcome distraction, one where you could pick sides and silently rate the insults exchanged between the involved parties. What you did not appreciate however, was being caught in the crossfire.

You should have known of the chaos that would ensue as soon as you saw them get on the train. A weirdo in a boar mask. Check. Another weirdo, dressed like a lemon that looked like he was perpetually on the verge of tears… Check.

The last of the troupe looked normal, with pretty red hair and gentle features. But looks could be deceiving and judging but the fact that boar mask had repeatedly referred to him as an “underling” you knew his kind face was probably a façade and that they were in league with one another.

At the time their peculiarity had only served to spark your curiosity, allowing you to momentarily escape the monotony of your own life and enter into the world of their colourful attire and animated conversation. Boar mask or “Inouske” as you’d come to know by overhearing their discourse, was engaged in a histrionic display of attempting to jump out the window and pit his speed against this “beast” that was the train… probably an acting student. You’d also watched as the crying lemon tried desperately to restrain his eccentric friend.

Their idiosyncratic ministrations caused you to erupt in a fit of withheld giggles and made you wonder of the interesting adventures that would arise from being a regular in their company.

Such was the blissful state of ignorance you found yourself in. But once enlightened you’d come to realise that it was not acting, nor anything cultured that functioned as Inouske’s motivation for wearing such bizarre animal skin, but rather to hide a glaring absence of brain cells.

The start of the era of aforementioned “enlightenment” was commenced by raised voices, for a few incoherent shouts later and you had realised you were witnessing the beginnings of an argument… about what, you could not tell.

A couple moments later the lemon and the boar were engaged in a heated exchange whilst the man you’d come to know was named “Kamaboko Gonpachiro” had restricted Inouske by the underarms. Again, you had almost been enjoying the front-seat experience but - to your own detriment - the boar slipped out of Gonpachiro’s grasp, and he sent the lemon flying in your direction.

You briefly heard a pained grunt of surprise, but you hadn’t the time to analyse the particulars of the sound any further as before you knew it his sturdy back had slammed into your face. In any other context you might have welcomed the notion of being smothered by built muscle, but you were on a rather stinky train going home and of all the empty cars you had to have been seated near some (newly regarded) boisterous fools and a drunkard singing Beyoncé.

Gone was the simplicity of an evening train ride. You get on, you get off. Bob’s your uncle. Was it too much to ask? Apparently.

Anyway, back to the matter at hand. With murder on your mind, you pushed the lemon away from you and cupped your face. As if your body was sharing your mental vexation, blood started to dribble out of your nose and onto the train flooring. “WAAAAH! IM SO SORRY MISS,” he screamed. You decided to dignify his apology with a curt scoff; this fool has the audacity to look more distressed than me! “Save it, just leave me alone.”

Kamaboko was busy scolding Inouske and offered up his apologies along with a handkerchief, but you waved them off and told them to forget about it. They’re probably worried I want to press charges…

The lemon, however, completely ignored your dismissal, continuing to ask desperately for your forgiveness and for a way he could make amends (whilst Inouske snorted arrogantly in the background). You, in a wave of sympathy and despite initial annoyance, agreed.

That was how you ended up in a small coffee shop on the corner of a quiet road. What you hadn’t expected was for you both to become good friends and for it to become the spot for your regular rendezvous. You’d come to learn allot about the lemon you now called Zenitsu. He, despite occasionally being overbearing, had a kind heart and was quick to make you laugh, so you had asked if he wanted to meet again, he’d accepted (a little too enthusiastically), and you’d become increasingly fond.

There were also casual gatherings - on occasion - with the rest of his enigmatic companions, ones you enjoyed very much, but had always found such meetings could never allow you to hold the same sort of enthusiasm you did for the almost intimate setting you and Zenitsu would frequent together.

However, on one such visit to said setting, there had been something noticeably different about his behaviour.

These observations were substantiated by the understanding that you had recently come into the knowledge he was interested in you romantically to some capacity and – to your own amusement – it was becoming progressively evident.

He’d been fidgeting in his seat, fiddling with his hands, and tripping over his words. Not to mention the fact that he’d turned a bright shade of plum red. You subsequently decided to humour his antics and dissipate the tension.

“Stop blushing, it’s running your colour scheme.”

What, in your mind, served as a witty, ice-breaking, apprehension abolishing conversation starter was met with more blushing and followed by awkward silence.

Tough crowd…

“um … Yn-chaan” Eventually, his timid voice broke the silence and captured your attention.

“hm?”

“I- I like you.”

You smiled into the cup and took a long sip of your hot chocolate “Yeah, I like you too Zenitsu.”

“NO YN-CHAN NOT THE NORMAL LIKE-”

Rolling your eyes, you let out a laugh “I know what you mean…”

And I mean it too

#demon slayer #zenitsu agatsuma #kny #kny modern au #kny au #kamaboko squad #kamaboko gonpachiro #tanjirou kamado #kny tanjirou #kny inosuke #kimetsu no yaiba #zenitsu x reader #kny x reader #kny x you #demon slayer x reader #zenitsu x you #kny zenitsu #agatsuma zenitsu headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba agatsuma zenitsu

[jadelynlace]

Nightly Secrets / Ink Drinker Modern Vikings AU Request [Ivar x F!Reader]

catch up on the porno, I mean series, here.

requested by: @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom ♡ “sex in the dark/night”

author’s note: thanks to this post, and the notes that follow, you’ll all be subjected to the written requests. smut below the cut.

synopsis: Being caught never meant less.

*Note: This takes place in the timeline before you and Ivar are “out” as a couple.

✎

Your flat was minutes away from the station, for better or worse. It typically lead to Hvitserk crashing there after a particularly grueling shift, or drinking troubles away after the same amount of crap. More than once he was already there when you got off, sometimes alone, raiding your fridge, telling you that you needed to grocery shop, and sometimes there was a certain brother in tow. A certain brother that you “hated”. The only thing you hated about Ivar was his inability to admit to wanting something more than a friends with benefits situation. It was late, like it had been for the past couple of hours and when your car rolled into it’s parking spot, to see Hvitserk’s in the adjacent one, Ivar’s mustang two spots over, you almost went back to the station. To a cot without the large tattooed furnace, one you would have to try to avoid throughout the timing they would be staying. Even if all you wanted was a god damn hug from him.

A case of beer was already gone, drowned and when you walked through the door Hvitserk spread he mouth into a wide smile, like a puppy who seemed to see the tearing of your shoe was not an issue. You flipped him off in response.

“Tough shift?” Ivar said before he could help himself.

“We got out asses kicked, and handed back to us in a blender,” You answered, grabbing a bottle of beer and the bottle of whiskey.

“Oh, good idea—shots,” Hvitserk said suddenly and you sucked the whiskey back against your uniform.

“No, this is mine.” You grumbled, sitting on the other side of the room.

“Fine,” He whined like a dog. “I have to take a leak anyways.” He announced, standing and off he went down the hall. You no sooner were through the living room, Ivar standing from his spot just to meet you in the limited time. Tongues down each other’s throats for too short of a second, encased in his arms as he barreled down against you tightly. 

“Missed you last night,” He whispered, sealing that with a kiss. 

“Missed you too,”

“Was it really a shit day?” He asked, thumb on your cheek as you both listened for the sounds of the toilet flushing. 

“Shit is an understatement,”

“We’ll fix it when Hvitserk falls asleep, yeah?” Ivar teased, lips back on yours, groan dancing from his through as you pulled against his shirt. The sounds from the bathroom became noticeable, and you bit down quickly on his bottom lip, separating suddenly and skirting back to the kitchen. 

*

“You’re both too drunk to drive,” You said, folding arms.

“Am not,” Hvitserk challenged back.

“You can have the couch or the bathtub, take a pick,” You said.

“Couch,” Hvitserk answered. “That leaves the bathtub for you, brother.”

“Or, an Uber,” He replied but he caught the way your eyes looked down, as if he just shattered your heart. “Or, the floor,” He added.

“I’ll leave the vanity light on in case you feel the overwhelming urge to puke,” You groaned, another flip of your middle finger and you set off back to your room. 

You kept the lights dim, television flickering on an even quieter volume, murder mystery playing as you went about winding down. Dressing in the loose clothes you’d rather wear, saving the undergarments in case Ivar decided to stay true to his promise. And even if he didn’t because he was already too drunk. You didn’t know which was better or worse.

Hvitserk was nearly comatose within minutes of his head hitting the couch, and Ivar watched for a steady half hour to make sure he was really as out as he looked. And then he was up, moving from his spot on the floor and slipping down the hallway to your room. You were on your stomach, thumbing through social media on your phone and you felt the bed dip, Ivar’s hands climb the backs of your thighs and settling over you.

“I can’t believe you’re still awake too,” You said to him, head turned slightly as you spoke. “With all that you drank.

“I’m not even drunk,” He hummed resting weight against you, pressing you into the mattress and you both sighed. “Ever time Hvitserk looked away I poured my whiskey in his glass.” Ivar said. You had to push your face into the pillow to catch your laughter.

“Turn the light off, Ivar, and come in here,” You whispered, feeling him move again, warmth leaving before darkness took over the room. The television switched off next, over head fan taking notice and buzzing through the room. Ivar went about closing you curtains and plugging in your phone as if it wasn’t a night out of the unordinary, and Hvitserk wasn’t passed out in your living room. You heard his jeans fall next, belt against the wood floor and then he was pulling his sweatshirt off and climbing next to you. “I want a hug,” You mumbled, crawling into his space as he settled with you among the duvet.

“You looked like I gutted you when I said I was going to get a ride home,” Ivar mumbled, hands curling around you as his face settled against your hair.

“Was it that obvious?” You asked back.

“Yeah, baby girl, it was—only to me though because I don’t even think Hvitserk knows his own name anymore,”

“I just don’t like the thought of you being here and I can’t even spend time with you like I’d like to. Fuck me, I sound like such a girl,” You whined, face against his bare chest and he only chuckled.

“I did kinda intend to fuck you, but you’ll have to be quiet.”

“I’ll have to be quiet? Ivar the whole complex can hear you when you come,” You teased, propping your head up against his chest. Through his eye roll, you took the liberty to crawl over him, straddling him against your bed and his hands latched to your hips immediately. “And, I’m not even wearing panties,” You smiled.

There was a flicker in his eyes that took your notice and he was pulling you then, filling the space between the two of you quickly as his mouth sought out yours. You felt the slip of his hands, sliding over the sleep shirt and into your hair, passing around and then back down as if he dared to leave no part of you untouched. For a brief second they stuck to your hips, rocking you against him ever so slowly and you only ground down on his pelvis in response. His cock hardening almost immediately as you let a soft moan slip between your mouths. Ivar’s hands finally stilled, spreading wide like a wingspan before latching around you, spinning both of your bodies until you were caged underneath him. Even with the room so dark, the light of the nightlight in the far outlet still danced over his cheek bones, catching with his eyes as his forehead stayed plastered against yours.

In a second he was moving, slipping back under the covers as he yanked your thighs to part for his own pleasure. The first flattening of his tongue through your folds was met with the slap of your hand over your mouth, Ivar’s snicker not too far behind before his voice was cut short by the wetness in your cunt. Tasting your juices on his lips as he slurped at you like a parched man, trying to hold your hips down but in your inability to be vocal you took that strain away with the wiggling of your lower half. You were moving too much for Ivar’s liking—how a client might fidget in the chair and it always peeved him, soured his mood and then Ivar was pulling back. Eye flicking up and set sternly as you looked back at him.

“Stop moving,” He grumbled, dipping his mouth back down over your clit, sucking slowly and you still couldn’t stay still. Ivar let out another low groan, peeling his mouth away, arousal around his lips, dripping to his chin as he bit down in the fleshy crevice of your thigh before climbing back up. You wanted to challenge him, a snarky reply right on your tongue but it was swallowed up by the gasp that rolled off instead, his fingers pushing into you as your head tipped back. Studying you, Ivar curled both digits, milking them against your walls as your breathing picked up, his free hand moving from your chest to wrap around your throat. Your mouth dropped open as he squeezed, womanhood squeezing him back and a breathless moan slipped from your mouth. He could hear how wet you were getting, soaking his hand the faster it moved and when he saw both of your hands hold his wrist to stay in place he knew you were about to tip. Through a final tightening of his grip you came around his fingers, back bending away from the mattress as your airways tightened, restricting any noise as Ivar only slowed his hand down to let you float back. As soon as his fingers left your throat his mouth was back over yours, climbing back over you and you wasted no time to grab at him, rolling his boxers down and his hand met yours at his middle. Pushing it away and grabbing his length to start pass your entrance. “Did you take your pill today?” He asks suddenly, his lips moved against yours as he speaks. Your answer doesn’t even get completely through your mouth before he starts sinking into you, spreading still quivering walls with his girth and he moans.

He moans and it’s no quieter than it ever had been before and when he rests completely swallowed up he stays still for a moment. Knowing that if he starts moving it’ll turn into a symphony of noises between the two of you and it’ll likely wake the passed out man down in the living room. Ivar’s forehead falls against yours and his lips still, savoring how you’re squeezing him and you can only giggle in response.

“You want to make noise, don’t you?” You whisper and from where he is you can feel him nod. 

“You feel too good,” He says in response and takes a languid roll of his hips to prove his point, pulling out barely and shoving back inside of you and you both gasp. Your nails digging along his back and the sear of the red streaks only turns him on more. Ivar’s hands take to the sheets again as he moves, timely pushing back into your with minimal force and even though there’s a worry in the air of being caught, he can’t rush. He needs to savor how you feel, and how you both feel connected and in the moment he does’t care if Hvitserk finds out. This matters too much to him to worry about his older brother’s pointless remarks and he wants to make you his so badly but he too scared you’ll deny him. And instead he shows you with his movements, his body against yours, making love although neither of you will admit to it. Finally his hands move, seeking out yours and it catches you by surprise when your fingers tangle too easily as he moves, his lips on yours and your end is rolling back to you again. 

There’s a movement in the sheets as one hand separates from yours, pushing your thigh up to flatten on the mattress and it sends him deeper, hitting that sweet spot inside of you and you’re done for. Pleasure takes to every pore and Ivar’s put his mouth over yours to swallow the sounds you make when you come for a second time, even as your lips stay motionless against his. Your walls tighten him like a vice as you shake in his grasp, his own end pulling from his shaft and coating you. And the moan he wants to let loose come out and a whispered groan, estranged noise as his body tenses; his back quivering as the muscles ripple and you’re pressed against the sheets even with no additional room to move. 

“Don’t move yet,” You whisper suddenly as the pleasure fills your eyes with a brief wave of tears and Ivar couldn’t move if his life depended on it. “I know we have to move but not—not yet,” 

“I’m not moving,” Ivar rasps against your skin, his nose bumping yours and trailing down your jaw. “I don’t give two fucks if Hvitserk sees us, that doesn’t matter to me anymore,” His voice comes against your ear, sealing that secret there with a kiss. And when he finally does pull away, Ivar only rolls off of you, landing back against the duvet and waisting no time to latch around you. 

“What about in the morning?” You peep softly, safely secured in his arms.

“That sounds like something we’ll have to worry about when it’s morning, baby,” Ivar’s voice comes from behind you, thickened with exhaustion and he’s finally feeling some evidence of sleep through his body. And you’re there with him to see him to it.

“You really don’t care, do you?” You ask and Ivar shakes his head against you.

“Not in the slightest. You’re mine, and nothing is going to change that,” Ivar says just as sleep claims him.

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[justimajin]

Til Death Do Us Part ♜ Pt.7

➟ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

➟ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut

↳ (3.8k), Arranged Marriage AU

➟ Summary: If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread.

➟ Warnings: 18+ rating, the angst is strong with this one

gif credit.

➟ Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

➟ Next Update: Tuesday, February 2 

The home is somewhat cozy.

It’s smaller than the one you and Namjoon have been occupying, doors and rooms completely foreign. There’s a serene meadow nearby that remains you of the garden, and within the interior of the house lies a surprisingly expansive assortment of spiraling halls, all leading into different directions.

The aftermath of your sudden kidnapping led Namjoon to the decision of temporarily retreating elsewhere. 

“It’s not much, but it’s definitely doable.” He explains, pacing around the bedroom and double checking the various drawers for clothes, “I don’t think we’ll be here too long, but there seems to be enough supplies.” 

You remain seated on the edge of the bed, eyes staring at the ground in silence. Namjoon quickly glances outside the window before resuming to take apparel out of them. 

“We should be safe here.” He hurriedly says, carefully placing the clothes aside, “I haven’t been able to get into contact with my family either, so I’m hoping they know to stay under the radar after discovering our absence. In fact, I‒” 

“You knew….” 

Your voice is incredibly faint, akin to a whisper. He’s crouched down on the ground, hands clasped around a cotton shirt when they freeze in place. 

Slowing rising from his spot, he turns to face you. The first thing that captures his attention is the accumulation of tears within your eyes, your features twisting. 

“W-Why didn’t you just kill me?” 

He walks closer to you, “Y/N…” 

Your facade snaps, no longer able to play a game of pretend. 

“I was sent to spy on you, Namjoon!” You rise from the bed, stalking towards him and placing your hands on his shoulders. “I was going to kill you!” 

“Y/N!” You abruptly glance up, startled from his tone. 

Namjoon holds a pained expression, and carefully holds your hands, just like you had reached out for his as you stopped him from going to work, “I-I’m not going to kill you….” 

You can only stare, eyes wet and teeth digging into your bottom lip. The discovery has been killing you on the inside, the sinking awareness that he was capable of getting rid of you within any split second and that he knows, he knows of everything you’ve done in that house. 

It’s slowly driving you insane….and it terrifies you. 

“But why?!” You cry out, “I’ve killed Taehyung, I’ve murdered Eunjoo!”

Your hands frantically tremble, voice cracking, “What’s stopping me from killing you…?” 

A wave of tears run down your cheeks and your quivering hands raise to cover your face. Amidst of contemplating everything you’ve done, you can’t understand his actions and it serves to make you wonder why you’re even here. 

Why even bring someone as horrible as you into this house? 

His arms immediately wrap around you, tugging you closer. Your head rests against his shoulder, sobs amplifying. 

Namjoon sighs, his chest rising and deflating, “Honestly nothing is, if you ask me.” 

He truthfully admits it ‒ you do have the power to end his life, and he knows that, “But I accepted that being with you meant that I couldn’t interfere with your work and I wasn’t planning to either, Y/N.” 

“Y-You were waiting… you were waiting for me to kill you….” You shake your head as Namjoon continues to hold you, “I-I’ve killed so many people Namjoon…” 

Somehow, his knowledge and awareness makes you want to confess it all ‒ confess how much your hands have been horribly tainted. 

“I know, Y/N.” He whispers, “I know.” 

The wedding has commenced. 

An union between families has been forged. 

And Namjoon is no longer a single man. 

“I’d like to leave for bed now.” You smile, painting a look of exhaustion after conversing with Namjoon and his parents, “I’m feeling quite tired.” 

“Of course, of course!” Namjoon’s mother understandably waves you off as Namjoon’s father wraps a hand around his son. 

“Go on, Y/N! We need to catch up anyways!” His father says, smiling at him. 

Namjoon stiffens in his hold as you depart, following after his father into a separate room. 

The moment the door shuts close, the warm tone in Namjoon’s eyes turns cold. There’s a dark look in his father’s irises as he crosses his arms and leans against the wooden desk, staring at his son intently. 

He already knows what words he’s about to spew, and it's something his father acknowledges. 

“You know already, don’t you? Of what those pesky L/N’s sent into your home?” 

Namjoon hums, meeting the latter’s stare intently, “How long do you intend on keeping her around before getting rid of her?” 

“Perhaps for all of eternity.” His father lets out a snarl, but Namjoon challengingly quirks up a brow in retaliation. 

“Are you being serious?” He slams his fist against the table, “Do you even hear what you’re saying?!”

Namjoon’s mouth twitches, “I’ve already told you and mother multiple times ‒ I plan on marrying only once.” 

“So you’re going to have a L/N spy for a wife?! And bury this empire to the ground?!” 

“As the next heir, what I do to the business will be out of my own accord,” He sharply retorts, “And Y/N....has me for a husband. I’m no better than she is.” 

His father’s face turns bright red, angry veins running through his neck. Thankfully he doesn’t notice how Namjoon’s voice softens when he speaks of you, or the way there’s something spurring silently within his eyes, something that begins with pure curiosity and ends with wishing for a reflection. 

“You will bring our empire to its downfall.” 

Namjoon smiles. 

“Then so be it.” 

***

Kim Namjoon is blind. 

He doesn’t speak nor scrutinize, not a word leaving him as he notices a small wire sticking out from the bedroom window, ironically appearing to just be a simple one used for electricity but perfect enough to be connected to a static code receptor. 

He doesn’t retaliate with anything when you coincidentally arrive at his office with the excuse of bringing his forgotten lunch, painting on naive eyes during the meeting he holds with the shareholders of his company. He becomes aloof to their glares and scoffs, granting you complete access without being intrusive, and yet without any of his own actions, your exterior cracks ‒ breaking it on purpose to protect and defend your own family. 

His eyes flicker at witnessing your intent firsthand and without hesitation, he offers his help even if it meant welcoming deceit with open arms. 

Perhaps that act makes Namjoon hopeful, too hopeful in fact, when he draws more interest in you and wants to know more, even if your words are filled with lies and twisted truths. Perhaps his curiosity of who his wife truly is becomes too much for him to handle, that he must simply know about the person behind the mask, the person he saw at the altar that was avoiding his gaze and looking terrified beyond belief. He sees her again briefly when you begin to indulge him about your life before becoming a spy, but Namjoon can already pinpoint that he’s too hopeful as your mask surfaces again, innocently maneuvering yourself into being allowed to accompany him to his company’s warehouse. 

It makes him wonder, wonder if he was truly playing himself into a trap. If his father was right in a way, if he should simply cut off his hopeful ties and ultimately step away before it’s too late. 

But Namjoon decides to do something different, he decides to do something that you might be horribly frightened by, but he won’t ever hesitate to do. 

He becomes truthful. 

He tells you everything, what his business is, what his family is, what he is, and he can clearly see it. The terror that swims within your eyes, the astonishment that crosses you with being confronted by the truth and the hesitation, the very hesitation that drives his hopes up higher than they could be. 

But there’s one factor that Namjoon underestimated, and that’s how far you were willing to go to fulfill your role.  

He hates how late it took him to realize, scorns at how the combination of your sudden nausea coupled with Taehyung’s departure wasn’t obvious enough for him to decipher. 

The moment he comes back home that day, it’s strangely silent. He assumed that Eunjoo would be around and that you were perhaps consulting with her about your health, but the moment he rushes up the stairs, he can see it all. 

It looks squeaky clean, save for the few drops of blood stuck to the underside of one of the carpets that would have been easily ignored. 

Abruptly, the sound of the shower alerts him, and he knows exactly where the culprit is. 

He knocks on the door, carefully leaning his ear against the wood. 

“Y/N? Y/N, are you feeling better?”

“Y-Yeah...I’m feeling much better, Namjoon.” 

His eyes narrow. The sound of water restricts his ability to hear properly and gives you a sufficient reason not to face him at the moment, and your voice is hesitant and deeper than usual. 

The incident happened very close to his arrival, and you’ve been injured in the process. 

“Alright….I’ll just be here, if you need anything.” 

Before heading off to bed, he attempts to assess the situation to the best of his ability. 

Taehyung left shortly after you were feeling sick and was convinced that having you around was a bad call on his part. If Namjoon doesn’t hear from him tomorrow, it’s highly likely that he was able to figure the truth about your identity and decided to finish the job himself, ultimately failing. 

Eunjoo is nowhere inside the house. She doesn’t leave at sporadic times with informing him or leaving behind a notice, making it possible that she unintentionally found out who you were and decided to take action. 

There was only one simple method you could have used to render them silent. 

His back hits the wall as he squeezes his eyes shut, a deep remorseful sigh leaving his lips. 

“Why did the two of you need to get involved in this?” 

After that night, Namjoon sees a stark difference within you. It’s almost like there’s a deep crack within the surface of your mask, your own worries and concerns easily leaking out. 

And you make no move to sew it up. 

It brings him to the point where he even convinces you to go back home, that maybe leaving all this would grant some peace of mind to you. In the process, he was even able to keep the investigation under control and the spotlight away from you, as his involvement and words were trusted more than anything. 

But of course, your collective duties to your families reigns higher than anything. 

Ultimately, he knew solely getting involved in the investigation placed him in threatening territory. That as subjected, he would be able to easily decipher your actions and be given the opportunity to compromise your identity.  

So what better way was there, than to get rid of him? To pretend your husband met with an unfortunate incident, all while to cover up your tracks along the way? 

It was his last day ‒ he knew it. He would have to conclusively tie up your investigation in such a way that you would never be found out as the culprit. His perceived demise led to him parting a farewell gift for you as well, something he had hoped he would have survived long enough to see you wear. 

But when given the golden opportunity, you casted away your ensuing aim, choosing to save him instead.  

After taking time to calm down, a question lingers in your mind for Namjoon. 

“A-Are you going to tell anyone?” You wonder, peering over at the opposite side of the bed where he sits, “About me…?” 

Namjoon looks away from the window, instantly shaking his head, “Of course not.” 

Although his answer spreads relief through you, a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “But I do have to say, having a wife that was prepared to secretly kill me would have made a really good brunch story.” 

You let out an exhale, shaking your head with a smile that manages to crack through, “My family won’t know about you either, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that my life is in danger.” 

At the mention of prior events, you crane your head to the side and narrow your eyes. 

“It’s strange.” You place a pondering finger on your lips, “No one ever informed me that the Kim family was being targeted….”

Eyes suddenly widening, an abrupt thought sparks in your mind. 

Your voice drops into a whisper, “My mission…” 

“Huh?” Namjoon leans forward, attempting to catch a glimpse of you. Turning around, there’s dread in your eyes. 

“My mission.” You repeat, firmer this time. “It’s been compromised.” 

Recognition spreads through his irises as you uncomfortably shift. 

The feeling of a target resting on your back as well makes your stomach wind up into a thousand knots. 

“Well, are you going to follow through with it?” 

Your brows furrow immediately, answer coming through without hesitation, “No.” 

“Then the best way to combat it is to act as if nothing ever happened.” Namjoon explains, “They don’t need to know that someone is aware of your true identity.” 

Your eyes twinkle with the information, “Then I’ll need to set up some kind of communication line with them.” 

For this to work, you’ll need to keep in touch and send false reports through. However, your hopes dwindle with the knowledge that you don’t have any of your equipment with you. 

As if he knows exactly what you're thinking, Namjoon quirks up a smile and slides off the bed. He reaches his hand out to you, which you take in confusion. 

“Come on, I still need to show you the rest of the house.” 

***

Namjoon ends up leading you to a separate hallway, one that’s extremely lengthy and almost never ending until you reach a door you wouldn’t have been able to find yourself. As Namjoon knocks against it and presses his ear against the door, you notice a handful of maids walking by, some sending you friendly smiles that you return. 

The door opens and Namjoon gestures you inside. 

You’re greeted to the sight of two men in the room. One of them leans against a wooden table with his arms crossed, a pair of glasses resting on the bridge of his nose and his brown hair considerably tousled. The other sits at the same table, his cheeks full and blonde hair parted to the side. 

The blonde haired man eyes are wide, staring at you in fascination.

“Is this her?” He immediately blurts out, and when Namjoon nods, he instantly gets up and rushes over. 

A breathtaking angelic smile spreads across his features as he reaches his hand out, “Hi, it’s great to finally meet you.” 

You return the gesture but are puzzled with the interaction, your eyes swaying over to Namjoon. The man with the glasses stands up straighter, walking over to you with his hands in his pockets. 

His gaze is scrutinizing and there’s a faint twinkle residing within his irises. “Do you know who we are?” 

You're hesitant to answer, shaking your head. 

He immediately scoffs, eyes blazing with anger, “You never mentioned us?!” 

At the sound of his spiking loud tone, Namjoon sheepishly smiles and just shrugs. The man scoffs again, shaking his head. 

The action makes your mind churn, and the more you stare at the two, the more bits and pieces of information begin to weave together. 

Something suddenly flickers within your eyes, jaw instantly dropping down. Your finger shakingly points towards him in awe. 

“K-Kim Seokjin….” Your sight moves over to the man you just shook hands with, pupils widening with more realization, “and Park Jimin?” 

A smug smile crosses Seokjin’s lips, “Ah so you do know who we are, Miss Y/N.” 

His voice gives off the inkling that he knows just as much about you as you know of him ‒ even doubting that his extensive knowledge is perceptive and aware of more. 

“I’ve only seen the two of you a handful of times,” You turn to Namjoon, “When I was familiarizing myself with individuals involved in the business, we had plenty of photographs and records on each person and the tasks they oversee.”

“‒But there were some individuals that barely had any information on them. They would be spotted near you from time to time and aside from just a name, those parties remained a mystery.” 

Your eyes flicker up again, oscillating between the two. Seokjin smiles, appearing impressed with your ability to remember the trivial matters. 

Namjoon steps forward, offering up an explanation, “I think it’s great that we don’t need an introduction, but it’ll probably surprise you to know that Seokjin and Jimin are shareholders within my company.” 

Your jaw instantly drops and Namjoon chuckles, “I’d like to call them my secret shareholders, because aside from funding and aiding me with my company, they’re both equipped with other skills.” 

At the mention of it, Jimin lets a small smile slip out and Seokjin’s eyes twinkle. “They’re the only ones I can truly trust and because of that, I don’t expose them to the world and they know to keep a low profile.” 

You nod, slowly processing the information. It's still baffling to know that despite the amount of rigorous training and memorization you’ve done to prepare yourself for this task, there was still something missing that you wouldn’t have known until Namjoon told you himself. 

And their ultimate purpose is something he eventually explains. 

“The reason why I’m introducing you to them is because they will be staying with us until it’s safe to return home,” He points to Seokjin, “And I wanted to bring you to someone that knows communication lines inside and out, so that you can send your reports back.” 

Your wide eyes come into contact with Seokjin’s, and he begins to back away, gesturing to you as he heads towards the door. You take it as a sign that you need to follow after him, leaving Namjoon and Jimin behind as you exit. 

He leads you down a separate hall, entering a room with multiple devices attached to the walls. There’s various cords and headsets that mimic your initial intelligence reporting within the dark corridor, alongside computers with jargon written on them. 

Your first reaction is to simply stare in awe, “Wow….” 

Seokjin smiles, flopping down on a chair and wheeling himself over to a computer. He hands you a headset, beginning to type frantically on one of the computers. 

“This is how you’re going to hear the signals being sent through.” Spinning around in his chair, he grabs onto a bronze and steel contraption and gives it to you, “This is an upgraded version of a telegraph sounder that connects to these computers and should allow you to send information via morse code.” 

Your eyes instantly light up in recognition and you begin to carefully tap against the metal, noticing a reception signal forecasting onto the screen. Seokjin points it out to you right away and begins to type something into the keyboard. 

“This technology is so advanced….” You mumble, eyeing the screen keenly. 

“It’s good for using multiple lines when the signal you’re sending out isn’t just being received by one location.” Seokjin explains. 

You hum, continue to test out the machinery. Seokjin hooks you up to the same line you were using to communicate previously and when a successful correspondence is sent through, he grins. 

After assisting you through the process, you start sending the information over like usual. Seokjin glances at his phone, slowly rising from his seat. 

“I have to get back to the others.” He guides you to sit where he was, letting you take over completely, “Namjoon wants to discuss the events of what happened with you two.” 

You nod, eyes glued with the screen and occupied with decoding and understanding the message you receive. “If you need anymore help, don’t hesitate to ask.” 

You quickly nod and Seokjin carefully exits the room, attempting to disturb you in the middle of communicating. Your hands work furiously to decode the messages, pupils rapidly flickering all over the screen. 

However in the midst of this process, you don’t notice the abrupt static coming through from a screen that was previously turned off.

***

By the time you leave the room, you are thoroughly exhausted. 

It seems so far things are under control, though you were vigorously questioned on the delay of your previous mission. A tumble of excuses are conjured within a spindle of minutes, differing from your simple inability to do so due to your husband constantly being occupied with your investigation and the fact that he has been remaining underneath the spotlight. Regardless, it seems acceptable enough and though displeased ‒ you’re reminded that the job must be conducted efficiently as soon as possible. 

Wiping your clammy hands against one another, you peer around the hallways. It’s still considerably mind spinning to understand where the long expansive pathways lead to, especially in such a small house, but a friendly smile greets you right away. 

“Miss Y/N?” 

You whirl around to see one of the maids you had passed by earlier on, and she bows before you. 

“Master Kim alerted me that you were in this room.” She explains, “He’s been waiting for you.” 

You nod in retaliation, following after her. Your eyes begin to roam around, noticing the fine wood carvings on each door and the way there are multiple rooms in the current corridor you’re in. It doesn’t seem much like a house but more so like a mansion with its endless ways. 

The maid leading you abruptly stops and you tilt your head to the side, attempting to see what was before her. The sight of a window greets you instantly and you raise an eyebrow, but suddenly it dawns upon you that you’re no longer in the same hallway anymore. 

Instantly, your eyes snap up and the maid swivels, her hands wrapping firmly around your mouth from behind. You erratically kick your legs and attempt to grab onto bundles of her hair, but your shoes are soon dragging against the carpet. 

Your brows shoot up in alarm when more maids begin to pool in ‒ one of them begins to strenuously wrap a broken wire around your hands as another gives the first maid a damp piece of cloth. They immediately switch places, the fabric pressed right against your nose as you furiously push away from them with muffled grunts. 

Suddenly a wave of vertigo hits you and your eyes begin to frantically dart around, barely being able to focus on the way a cool breeze hits your face. 

As seconds fly by, your limbs fall limp and your pupils roll back in your sockets, rendering you completely unconscious. 

#btswriterscollective #btsbookclub #namjoon fanfic #bts namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon fanfic #bts rm fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #bts namjoon fluff #bts namjoon angst #bts namjoon smut #bts namjoon arranged marriage au #bts arranged marriage au #bts rm arranged marriage au #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #namjoon x reader #namjoon x oc

[enha-woodzies]

𝗟𝗢𝗦 𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦 ㅡ CHAPTER 05 [ m.list ]

𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 : timetraveler!sunoo x fem!reader

𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘𝗦 : fantasy au; dystopian au; classism; friends to lovers au; angst; romance; drama

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 : none

𝗪𝗖 : 712

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 : @en-sun @youreverydayzebra @ofaffectionate @enhaphile @thaliee @sooblvr @neo-shitty @danyxthirstae01 @lublycho @jdyunvrs @woonieiv @whoe-dis @sherlockholicsbysoobin

Outliers.

Insufferable, corrupting, and deadly.

Just the ideal formula for catastrophe.

But what an excuse for violence.

The reason for the aggressive raids is due to the known fact that the Outliers know too much. Their time-travel abilities can both be a blessing and a curse. They’ve heard a lot, seen a lot even, and some escaped death too many times, they’ve even considered themselves great at it.

It angered the HQ and their resentment against individuals of such kind has reached its crescendo that extreme and unimaginable measures were put into immediate action.

No one knows exactly what happened decades ago that ignited the great divide between such kinds, all they know is that an Outlier’s very existence is a crucial threat to the HQ and for the entire city of Los Ageless.

In Kim Sunoo’s case, he has lived and traveled to multiple periods of his life. He may just be a mere eighteen-year-old, but he has seen and felt his life at the ages of 20 and more, and boy was he in shambles one night the first time he saw himself at 27.

Under normal circumstances, Roamers are not capable of controlling their timejumps, unless they defy the law then they are suddenly able to hold back or flow along with the drift. Sunoo deemed his ability as a rare case in a Roamer’s history because there have been several events where he managed to control his time leaps, allowing him to leave voluntarily, or stay as long as he pleases when he hasn’t even committed the forbidden act yet.

The lapse in his ability made him think that something’s probably wrong with him, mentally for the most part. Ada, who knew best to keep important matters at bay, has advised him instead to see the Roamer doctor living in the outskirts of the woods, but to no use, Sunoo still prefers to travel back and inquire to his now late father to a time before his murder.

Unfortunately, his father told him nothing of the sort yet.

Not much is known about the Outliers to the point that they can even pass off as nothing but an old woman’s tale or better yet, bedtime stories and mysteries for the curious.

The government made it known that they haven’t captured any since the great divide and the information about the Outliers are just rumors or made-up by the HQ to protect the two colonies from having romantic affiliations.

Despite these, they are still determined to have certain raids because they alone believe that such species are present among them.

There have been multiple Roamers and Dwellers who defied the law but luckily, the matters were quickly resolved by the HQ, and no Outlier progenies were known to have existed or formed during the affiliations since then.

At least that’s what the government tells its folks.

Nearly two decades ago, a Dweller and Roamer couple was known to have borne two Outlier progeny. It was a tragic era in those trying times that restrictions were at their height because the family was known to have slipped from the HQ’s supposedly final touch.

Despite the several press conferences held that time, the government would always dismiss any matters with regards to the fugitive family. They’d be ashamed if the whole city knows they let them get away and if they lied and told them otherwise, they’d still feel awful knowing the fugitives are still out there.

There had been many theories about what happened to the family. Some say the Dweller mother died during the childbirth of the allegedly third progeny, while some speculated she was held captive in the heart of the government and the rest of the family were in hiding.

Others also confessed that there’s an Outlier resistance existing among them. Years later, new rumors sprung that one of the Outlier children mysteriously went missing or was captured and killed.

They could’ve sent out a BOLO, but because the HQ has no single information about the children, chances are they’re roaming around the city defenseless. That being the case, the aggressive raids shall go on until the outlaws are arrested.

It’s been years in the persecution yet no one but the government knows the real truth.

*send me an ask or a message if you want to be added on this series' taglist!

ㅡ © ENHA-WOODZIES, 2021

#kpopscape #enhypenwriters #enhypennetwork #ficscafe #los ageless #kim sunoo #enhypen sunoo #enhypen sunoo fluff #enhypen sunoo imagines #enhypen sunoo x reader #enhypen sunoo angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen angst #enhypen scenarios #sunoo fluff #sunoo imagines #sunoo scenarios #sunoo x reader #sunoo angst

[shezzaspeare]

Pilot/Episode 1: Patching Things Up With Pastiche & Fanfiction

Hi, hello, and the wait is finally over! My name is Blessie, and welcome to the first episode webisode log installation I've decided to call these things an episode for now because why not also let me know what do you actually call these things episode of The Science of Fanfiction, where we take a closer look into our beloved works of fanon because we've all got plenty of time to spare till Season 5. Before I continue, I would like to thank everyone who's liked and reblogged the last few posts before this one. It means a lot for a small and growing Tumblr user like me, and your support is something I cherish more than my modules. You guys rock!

Anyways, like with most things, we have to talk about the boring and bland stuff before we proceed with the fun stuff. For today, we are going to settle the difference between a couple of things: first being the confusion between pastiche and fanfiction; then the distinctions between tropes, clichés, and stereotypes, which we'll tackle the next time. It's important for us to establish their true meanings in order for us to really understand what fanfiction truly is, even if it's merely just a work done for the fandom. I know – it's boring, it's something that shouldn't be expounded that much, but I believe that all forms of writing (unless it's plagiarised) is a work of art — and fanfiction is not something we always talk about. I hope that by the end of this, you'll learn about what they really are as much as I did. Let's begin to talk about the—

[Image ID: A flashback of John (left) and Sherlock (right) finding an elephant (not in the screen) in a room in The Sign of Three. End ID]

. . . I did say that this GIF will always have to make an appearance here, didn't I?

So, just as with Sherlock Holmes, all other works of fiction have their own pastiches and fanfiction, and many more original works out there have taken inspiration from them to create their own books. Although they've gained popular attention, this will not be possible if they did not have taken inspiration from the materials their writers had at the time.

[Image ID: Various actors as Dracula. Jeremy Brett in 'Dracula' (1978) (upper left), Adam Sandler in a voice role for 'Hotel Transylvania' (2012) (upper right), Gary Oldman in 'Dracula' (1992) (lower left), and Bela Lugosi in 'Dracula' (1933) (lower right). End ID]

For instance, Bram Stoker's 'Dracula' (the second most adapted literary character, next to the consulting detective himself) has been portrayed on the screen over 200 times — from Gary Oldman to Adam Sandler — and has spawned off numerous books and pastiches of its own such as Stephen King's 'Salem's Lot'. Its cultural impact served as a basis of how we see vampires today, since some characteristics of the Count were made by Stoker himself. Stoker's creation is the brainchild of his predecessors and inspirations.

[Image ID: Vlad the Impaler (left) and a book cover of 'Carmilla' by J. Sheridan Le Fanu (right). End ID]

Other than the ongoing hysteria over dead back then and the existing vampire folklore, Stoker also took his inspirations from the published books on vampires he had at hand. He is said to have taken inspiration from Vlad the Impaler, a Romanian national hero known allegedly for having impalement as his favourite method of torture. He is also said to have been inspired by the J. Sheridan Le Fanu's 'Carmilla', a Gothic lesbian vampire novella that predates Dracula by 26 years. I could go on, but hey, we're going back to Sherlock Holmes now before I deviate any further. However, if you want to know about Dracula's literary origins, I suggest you watch Ted-ED's videos about the subject matter such as this one or this one.

Very much like Stoker, ACD didn't just conceive Holmes on his own. He took his own inspirations from what he had available at the time.

[Image ID: Dr Joseph Bell (left) and Edgar Allan Poe (right). End ID]

As we all know, ACD's biggest inspiration for Sherlock Holmes was one of his teachers at the Edinburgh University, Joseph Bell. He was famous for his powers of deduction, and he was also interested in forensic science — both characteristics which Holmes is greatly known for. He also drew inspiration from Edgar Allan Poe's sleuth, C. Auguste Dupin ('The Purloined Letter' & 'Murders in Rue Morgue'). As ACD himself has said at the 1909 Poe Centennial Dinner: "Where was the detective story until Poe breathed life into it?" Some other writers he took after are Wilkie Collins, Émile Gaboriau, and Oscar Wilde.

Now, what does this say about us Sherlockians/Holmesians (depending if you're the coloniser or the one that was colonised)? Basically, ACD laid the groundwork for us with Sherlock Holmes: his humble abode 221B that he shares with his flatmate Dr. John Watson, his adventures, memoirs, return, casebook, last vow, and all that. Now that we have this material at hand, we can now make our own versions, takes, or even original stories featuring the characters of the Canon. Our inspiration comes from ACD's Sherlock Holmes, and we now get the chance to make our very own stories/conspiracy theories about them.

As I have mentioned earlier, Sherlock Holmes is the most adapted literary character in history. He has been adapted in over 200 films, more than 750 radio adaptations, a ballet, 2 musicals; and he's become a mouse, a woman, a dog, even a bloody cucumber. On top of all that are numerous pastiches and fanfics, and finally, we have arrived at the main topic of our post!

Fanfiction and pastiche are often confused together since they have three common elements: they take after the original work, they usually use the characters in that original work, and more often than not do are they set in that same time frame/period or not long after that. The common misconception is that pastiche are printed fanfiction, which is only partly true. While pastiche is definitely fanfiction in some ways and vice versa, there are fanfictions out there that aren't necessarily classified as pastiche that have been published.

Let's get on with our definition of terms to clear up the confusion a little more. Pastiche, according to Literary Terms, is:

. . . a creative work that imitates another author or genre. It’s a way of paying respect, or honor, to great works of the past. Pastiche differs from parody in that pastiche isn’t making fun of the works it imitates – however, the tone of pastiche is often humorous.

A good example of a pastiche is Sophie Hannah's 'The Monogram Murders', which is her take from Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot.

[Image ID: A book cover of 'The Monogram Murders' by Sophie Hannah. End ID.]

Although this was a commission from Christie's estate, it's still considered as a pastiche as:

It's takes after Christie's writing style;

It is set in the early years of Poirot's career (1929), which is still within the time frame that the author wrote him in;

It features Poirot and;

It pays respect to Christie in a sense that it stays true to her (Christie) characters and way of storytelling.

Meanwhile, our good and slightly unreliable friend Wikipedia defines fanfiction as:

. . . is fictional writing written by fans, commonly of an existing work of fiction. The author uses copyrighted characters, settings, or other intellectual property from the original creator(s) as a basis for their writing. [It] ranges from a couple of sentences to an entire novel, and fans can both keep the creator's characters and settings and/or add their own. [ . . . ] [It] can be based on any fictional (and sometimes non-fictional) subject. Common bases for fanfiction include novels, movies, bands, and video games.

To avoid any copyright infringement issues if I ever use a popular fanfic in the fandom, we'll use my (unfinished and unpopular) Sherlock Wattpad fic, 'Play Pretend'. You can read it here.

[Image ID: The second self-made book cover of Blessie/shezzaspeare's 'Play Pretend'. End ID]

Why is it considered a fanfiction and not a pastiche?

It takes after an adaptation of Sherlock Holmes (BBC Sherlock) which is a TV show, not the ACD canon itself;

The author (in this case myself) uses her own writing style and does not take after the original story's style;

Although it is set well in modern-day London and after Season 4, it also features scenes decades before the actual fanfic is set and outside of London;

I added a considerable number of characters, i.e. siblings to canon characters;

I had my own take some of the canon characters' personality especially after the events of Sherrinford;

It is written by a fan – myself. It is a work of fan labour and;

It is only a work of fanon, and isn't likely going to be considered by the show as its writing style is different from the actual show.

To put it simply, you can have more freedom in a fanfiction as it does not necessarily restrict you to follow or take after the original stories. Alternate universes (AUs) such as Unilock and Teenlock are perfect examples of this thing.

So can a pastiche be classified as fanfiction? Yes.

Can a fanfiction be classified as pastiche? Not all the time.

What's the difference? While yes, they share the basics, pastiche is technically leans more onto the original work's fundamental elements whereas fanfiction is a broader range of works inspired by the original work but doesn't necessarily follow all or any of its fundamental elements.

In order for us to understand it more, I'll give another example.

[Image ID: The 'Enola Holmes' title card (upper left) and Henry Cavill as its Sherlock holmes (upper right). Underneath it is a a scene from the opening titles of BBC Sherlock (lower left) and Benedict Cumberbatch as Sherlock Holmes in A Scandal In Belgravia. (lower right) End ID]

Most of you are familiar with these 21st-century adaptations of Holmes: the 2020 adaptation of Nancy Springer's Enola Holmes books and BBC Sherlock, which needs no further explanation – but for those who don't know, it's basically Holmes and the gang if they were alive today. I specifically chose these two as they are the ones that I believe would get my points across best. Though both are considered as wonderful pastiches with a well-rounded cast and awesome visuals, if we break them down bit by bit, we'll see which one is more of a pastiche and which one is more of a fanfic. (Yes, I know they're both screen adaptations. However, as Enola Holmes was based on the books and BBC Sherlock's fanfiction has the show's scenes written out in most fanfics, hear me out.)

They share these characteristics of a pastiche:

They feature characters from the Canon (Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, and Lestrade);

They have additional characters added by the writers (Including but not limited to Molly Hooper, Eurus Holmes, and Philip Anderson for BBC Sherlock while Enola Holmes has Lord Tewkesbury, Eudoria Holmes, and Enola herself) and;

They pay respect to the original Canon as their stories are based on the cases (BBC Sherlock) or simply what was going on around them (Enola Holmes).

They also share these characteristics of a fanfic:

They are made by enthusiasts of Sherlock Holmes (Moffat has called himself and Mark Gatiss 'Sherlock Holmes geeks', while Nancy Springer's Enola Holmes books are not just one or two but six);

They follow a common trope (we'll discuss these tropes in the following episodes) that goes on in the fandom (Sherlock's Sister & Modern AU)

They are based on a fictional subject (Sherlock Holmes);

They used characters and story elements that are copyrighted by the author/author's estate (fun fact: prior to the production of Enola Holmes, the Conan Doyle Estate filed a lawsuit against Springer & Netflix over Sherlock's emotions since he was more 'sympathetic' than he was portrayed in the Canon – this was later dismissed by both parties) and;

Their writing styles don't necessarily follow ACD's.

Despite these similarities, there are very obvious differences between the two that separates them from being a pastiche and a fanfiction.

Enola Holmes embodies pastiche more as it doesn't stray far away from the original elements of the Canon. It's still set in Victorian England. While Springer added characters of her own and definitely twisted the Canon to suit her series, she didn't necessarily place them out of the social construct that was going on around the characters. It follows ACD's writing style more as Enola Holmes' setting still remains within the Canon's original setting.

Meanwhile, we can safely say that BBC Sherlock is a work of fanfiction. While it did give us The Abominable Bride, the main series focused on Holmes and Watson in 21st-century England, which is drastically different from Victorian England. There are phones, black cabs, and cellphones — things which ACD Sherlock Holmes doesn't have. It also diverted from the Canon in the characters themselves, which is mostly seen in the names: Henry Baskerville became Henry Knight, Charles Augustus Milverton became Charles Augustus Magnussen, the H in Dr Watson's name stood for Hamish and Sherlock's full name is actually William Sherlock Scott Holmes. They also changed the personalities of some Canon characters: Mary was actually an ex-assassin, Mrs Hudson was an exotic dancer who drove a kick-ass sports car, Irene Adler is a dominatrix, to name a few. Moffat and Gatiss created a world of their own featuring the characters of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, which is really what most of us fanfic writers do with Mofftiss' rendition of Holmes.

In conclusion: while pastiche and fanfiction could have been the same thing, they're actually not. There's more to them that just printed fanfiction or pastiche e-books, and we all should take some time to see and observe them in a closer perspective.

And that's it for our first episode! I hope you enjoyed it. It was a lot fun for me to write this, especially now that I'm only starting. I would also like to note that while intensive research has been done on this series, some parts of this comes from my own observation and opinion, which may vary from yours. I am very much open to criticism, as long as it is said in a polite and civil manner. I'm still young, and to be educated as I go is something that could really help me with this series.

Like and reblog this you like it. It helps out a lot. Be sure to follow me as well and the tags underneath if you want to see more of TSoF.

See you soon!

Blessie presents – The Science of Fanfiction: A Study In Sherlock (2021) • Next

Follow me! • My Carrd | My YouTube Channel

SOURCES • Pinterest, Google Images, Wikipedia, Literary Terms, Conan Doyle Estate, Definitions, The Sherlock Holmes Book, and Google

#the science of fanfiction #sherlock #sherlock holmes #johnlock #bbc sherlock #dracula #enola holmes #lord tewkesbury #jeremy brett #shezzaspeare #bram stoker #acd #canon #fanfiction #pastiche #holmes #adlock #sherlolly #molly hooper #greg lestrade

[anarchycox]

For the writer's game, all the 10's (10, 20, 30, etc). If you please!

I am very happy to please!

10. Pick a writer to co-write a book with and tell us what you’d write about.

My dear @thenerdyindividual we'd right about lgbtqa2s pirates. lots of shenanigans and absurdity and falling in love on the high seas

20. Post a snippet of a WIP you’re working on.

Carver looked at Blackwall. “You got to say you were a warden, and people were in fear and awe. You got to say you were a thing of myth and legend without an ounce of the pain that comes with that. The hunger in your belly, the knowledge that one day you will die, in the deep roads, alone. The calling is a curse, a walking bomb in the back of your mind, in your very soul. But you know when you join you have about twenty or thirty years if you are really lucky. Though of course most don’t make it that long. Stroud was old for a warden, did you know that? So very old. I understand why Clarel was scared, why they did the stupidest fucking thing they could.” Carver walked off the dais and whispered in Blackwall’s ear for a moment before stepping back. The pale man went even paler and there was a tremor in his hand. “Imagine hearing that, all the time, in the corner of your mind. It never, ever stopping. It is no wonder that some wardens embraced madness, just hoping to stop that.”

Hawke watched as Carver moved back next to the Inquisitor. “And you dealt with none of that. You stood there and pretended. What if that had been a true archdemon?” Carver’s voice rose. “The whole of the Inquisition, the fate of the world would have been in your hands and you would have done FUCK ALL!” Blackwall flinched at that. “It isn’t training, it isn’t luck, it is truth that only a warden can kill an archdemon. For the lie he has been living, for the threat he could have been, the wardens demand his fucking head.”

30. Favorite line you’ve ever written.

It was in an Agents of Shield fic, one I never finished but it is still my favourite line. Phil says it to Melinda when she argues he left her behind and then he says, "I beat myself bloody on the wall of your silence." I really love that turn of phrase.

40. Original Fiction or Fanfiction, and why?

Fanfiction. I like the restrictions and freedoms it carries. And original fic I'd have to care about in a way I don't have the spoons for - it was just be so much more to write. Here I already have a baseline to work with and the challenge of playing with that, stretching it but staying true so that I get comments like "this is the most in character thing I have ever read in a modern au" that is a tremendous skillset in and of itself and one I love.

50. Weirdest story idea you’ve ever had.

I answered before but I will answer again for a different fandom. Weird ass undercover mission that requires Shep and Garrus to be happy married couple raising their kid - who of course is Shep's little murder baby Grunt. Shep would teach Garrus about bbqing.

[vagrantblvrd]

Super self-indulgent FAHC AU wherein for whatever reason Geoff doesn’t come to Los Santos to start the FAKE AH Crew until ~later.

Meanwhile, everyone ends up in Los Santos anyway - because reasons - and have to scrape by without the support of the crew behind them?

Like, hacker/thief/??? Gavin ends up in Los Santos via a series of unfortunate events in which he is a total shit and sticks his nose where it doesn’t belong?

Cue his ~fleeing to the US and meandering his way along - getting in trouble along the way, because of course he does, but also amassing a rather impressive list of contacts and such as well - to Los Santos.

Where, lol, of course he gets in over his head yet again? Young and stupid and tries to get one past the wrong guy and before he knows it he’s got himself an arrangement, right?

Work for the guy he tried to fuck over or be horrifically murderized, and oh, hey? The family and friends he left back in England? Sure would be a shame if something happened to them, you know? They seem lovely.

(Why would you just look at the pictures and videos this guy has of them doing all sorts of everyday things and accidents happen, you know. Awful, that.)

Anyway, anyway, Gavin keeps his head down and plays good little hacker/thief/???.

Gives his new boss what he asks for out of him and no more, doesn’t volunteer information or skills or anything he may have himself or know someone who knows someone who might be useful.

No.

Gavin does what’s asked of him and lets his boss’ goons and thugs push him around - little weasel, a coward and so on?

But also Gavin is making a list (or two or three) that has all kinds of interesting information to be had in them? Things his boss’ enemies or other such interested parties could use to utterly ruin the bastard.

Gavin’s got plans, you see, it’s just a matter of time and all that.

Until then he’s meek and mild and does his part whether it be hacking or off to steal some shiny little bit of interest to his boss or whatever else his boss knows he’s capable of. (Nasty stuff, when you get down to it, strange how his boss never wonders how Gavin knows how to do any of this stuff or rest easy thinking they won’t be used on him, but arrogance will do that to people, I guess?)

ANYWAY.

Things are going along...well enough when Gavin’s boss brings in a new hacker.

This kid (not really a kid, if anything a couple of years younger than Gavin at most, but he seems young) who buckles down and plays nice without the rough treatment Gavin and the handful of other hackers and “specialists” like him that have been through the base where Gavin works most of the time.

Gavin would let things run their course for this “Matt Bragg” but he’s not like the others Gavin’s been forced to work with?

They were always the same kid of wrong as his boss and his boss’ favorite goons and thugs. Mean and cruel for the sake of it and didn’t worry who they were hurting so long as they made a profit off it.

But Matt Bragg, okay.

Quiet kid, keeps to himself and gets this pinched look on his face when their boss decides whatever information he handed over to him was to be used in the most “efficient” way possible.

Matt gives their boss two different routes to obtain whatever shiny he’s after, one with minimal casualties on all sides but it’ll take a little longer. The other requires guards and security to be killed, but it shaves a hefty chunk of time off the entire operation, and no bet which one their boss chooses.

And, look.

The fact that Matt took the time to come up with two different approaches like that - contingency plans, yeah, sure, that’s a given - but Matt went out of his way to devise a tactic to avoid having to kill people.

Other things like that crop up from time to time, and Matt gets into trouble for it sometimes, taking too long to get the boss the information he wants because he’s concerned about having to kill some hired guns in a batch of mercs or rent a cops or whatever.

But he keeps on looking for those alternatives, and Gavin takes an interest.

Realizes Matt’s in the same boat as him with regards to working for their boss. Details might not be exactly the same, but whatever they are he ended up here same as Gavin, and that’s.

Interesting?

interesting.

Enough for Gavin to take that interest in Matt, sabotage him here and there so the boss gets pissed, yeah, punishes Matt by restricting his “privileges” and so on?

But there’s a good reason for that.

Because Matt’s good at what he does, too good, and there have been others like him through here before.

Got chewed up and spat out and left to fend for themselves when the cops (or worse) came looking.

Got set up, put on a job and left high and dry in the middle of it while the boss and his flunkies got away with the shiny they were after and a pretty little scapegoat/sacrifice left behind.

It’s where Matt’s headed if he’s not careful, and he isn’t.

Careful, that is.

Goes along with what the boss wants, but he’s the stubborn kind of idiot, you know?

Mouths off when he shouldn’t, and it gets him knocked around a bit. Gets him noticed by their boss’ goons and thugs when it’s the last thing people like them need or want.

Matt’s not stupid, realizes what’s going on and goes to confront Gavin about it, grabs his arm and freezes when Gavin lets out this little hiss f pain, pulls his arm back when Matt’s left staring at him.

Because in all the commotion Gavin’s sleeve got pulled up and there are these marks, bruises and worse and faded scars and -

“What - “

Gavin scowls at Matt, because rude, and also, idiot.

“Leave it alone, Matt Bragg,” he says, meaning Gavin deliberately fucking Matt over and everything else, because you know, because.

Those jobs and tasks and whatnot of Matt’s that Gavin sabotages him on?

Have to get done by someone, and Gavin’s reliable about things like that, isn’t he. (Has to be with everything he’s got on the line and all.)

So Gavin does the jobs/whatever Matt was supposed to and since Gavin has certain skills and the whatnot Matt doesn’t he ends up in the field when Matt would have remained at the base.

Gets hands on experience with whatever conundrum was posed to Matt, and sometimes that means he gets hurt because like hell will his boss offer him helpful support and such, you know?

It’s Gavin thieving about in hostile territory and with the odds stacked against him and shit always goes wrong.

And if it’s not the job/whatever where Gavin gets hurt you can bet their boss’ goons and thugs have something to say about things. (Gavin’s got a mouth on him even now, and makes enemies like you wouldn’t believe without trying.)

So anyway, anyway, Matt is like !!! and oh, you fucking moron, and drags Gavin off to get propery patched up.

Cue Friendship montage in which they realize they’re more or less working towards the same goals - Gavin wants the fuck out of this arrangement he was forced into and would rather do that than burn things to the ground while he’s still inside.

But Matt?

Lol, fucker would cheerfully burn the place down around him and figure his way out from there.

So.

Montage sequence in which they team up and utterly wreck their boss and his operation.

And, you know, because hackers end up filthy rich afterwards.

Fuck around for a while because Freedom and Choice and :DDDDDDDDDDDDDD but then they get word their boss had enemies who are looking to take over his territory and such and Gavin and Matt are like “...wait.”

Between them they have the resources and connections to set themselves for life in Los Santos, so they do?

Start setting up their own little criminal empires in the remains of their former boss’, and they start by bringing in assholes like this Rimmy Tim guy Matt met out at a bar one night?

Recently liberated from their boss and getting a drink to celebrate while Gavin was making sure things were good back in England and his boss’ allies/whoever couldn’t touch them and Matt’s more than a little tipsy, you know?

Mouths off to the wrong guy and almost gets the shit beat out of him but this weirdo in purple and orange (”I remember yellow, too?”) comes along and plays white knight for Matt.

At which point Matt has to buy him a drink as a thank you and the two of then end up getting shit-faced drunk.

Also you know.

Smooches are exchanged because oh, hey, he’s cute/hot/I like his face a lot before the alcohol kicks in and they end up snuggled together on a bed and passing the fuck out.

Not important whose bed, so much as the !!! the morning afterward realizing they went home with some weirdo and...smooched? Before snuggling and passing out???

And then awkward dating, because of course, and hey, since we’re building a criminal empire I totally know a guy, Matt says to Gavin, and then has to add, “It’s uh. We’re dating? But he’s exactly what we’re looking for for the whole...criminal empire thing???”

Gavin would be highly critical of Matt and his everything if it weren’t for the fact a bounty hunter he tangled with a ways back finally tracked him down?

Michael is super not thrilled with him, because of course?

This whole Thing where Michael got sent after this asshole hacker/thief/whatever in Gavin and they ended up being all 80s movies romcom/action flick flirting while avoiding the legit hitmen sent after Gavin?

Saving one another’s lives - at one point administering mouth-to-mouth - and getting matching flesh wounds in a shootout followed by a teensy amount of torture by some baddie?

And then!

Michael rethinking turning Gavin in only for Gavin to make that decision moot when Gavin knocked him out and chained him to a motel radiator before fleeing to parts unknown?

Only not so unknown as Michael finally found him.

There’s a cat and mouse game that ends up with both of then soaking wet - caught out in a rainstorm/went for a swim in a river/body of water - and Michael scowling at Gavin like he’s about to beat the shit out of him?

Only he kind of does...not that, what with the Angry Kissing that’s happening and Gavin’s !!! that turns to :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD and Michael’s >:((((((((((((((((((((((((((( that turns to >:((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( becuase Gavin is a piece of shit and Michael hates him so fucking much, stop laughing you little shit!!1! >:(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

Anyway.

Gavin and Matt have Jeremy and Michael, and then the rest trickle in?

Like.

Gavin worked with a gang a while back that hired this sniper - odd sort, but damn good with a sniper rifle and the kind you can trust to keep their mouth shut.

Ray’s not in it for the long-haul, not looking for a crew, but he’s always up to do a favor for friends and such.

And then Michael meets Lindsay through -

“Don’t fucking ask, seriously.”

And then!

Some friend of Jeremy’s in Trevor - this !!! You!!1! - moment between Gavin and Trevor because Thieves!!1! who may or may not have run into one another in the field and ensuing shenanigans as they were after the same shiny and oh, what a fun night that was, eh?

Alfredo just.

Suddenly fucking there???

Seems to know Michael who is like, “Oh, this fucker,” and no one can tell if he likes Alfredo at first? But then it comes out Alfredo used to be a bounty hunter too before he decided it was more fun being a “bad guy”

(Extenuating circumstances in which he was hired by some people to bring in some poor bastard who was innocent of whatever crime they said he committed because reasons? Alfredo finding out and then shenanigans in which he saved the poor guy’s life and set them up with a new life somewhere and ended up being framed for crimes he didn’t commit and all that. And since he was being framed for crimes he didn’t commit, why the hell not go out and commit actual crimes?

But.

Like.

Fun crimes.)

And then!!1!

Just as things are going smoothly, Gavin and Matt’s old boss manages to hire some assholes to kill Gavin? Matt would be great, sure, but the focus is on making Gavin super fucking dead, and everyone is freaking out, right, because for whatever reason they all like the little shit?

General sort of panic/mayhem until one of the assholes hired to kill Gavin actually gets their hands on him?

Catches him alone somewhere and while everyone is panicking trying to find Gavin, Gavin himself is :DDDDDDDDDDDD because the asshole who caught him is the fucking Vagabond.

When everyone gets to where they are Gavin’s like ??? at all the fear/panic he’s seeing and is like. “Guys, it’s my ex!”

Because this whole thing way, way before Michael and such where Gavin met Ryan and somehow wasn’t murdered?

Managed to make friends with the bastard that turned into something more and it was good, really, really good, until it wasn’t.

Someone from Ryan’s past gunning for him and Ryan ran Gavin off - “Bastard shot me!” but Gavin’s not mad, not anymore.

And it wasn’t like Ryan ran him off so much as dumped him at the ER and left Gavin to deal with the gunshot wound and explaining how he came by it to the authorities and then trying to find the bastard again afterward.

Which...he didn’t, but after months looking for him his contacts told him the Vagabond had set up shop in a city somewhere and seemed to be doing well for himself?

And Gavin was like :(((((((((((( because oh, well then, thinking maybe Ryan was better off without him weighing him down and such?

(Because hey, Vagabond and some hacker/thief/whatver in Gavin and honestly, no doubt who the more capable/dangerous one of them was.)

Thinking if Ryan wanted to, he could have come back for Gavin, or at least looked for him, but he hadn’t,so.

Gavin left him to it, kept on his way towards eventually arriving in Los Santos and everything that happened since - including Michael, oh shit - and then, uh.

Super awkward inching towards Mavinwood with Gavin and his feelings for Michael and Ryan and Michael and Ryan with their feelings for Gavin? But also bonding over the fact they have feelings for Gavin, because the guy’s a little shit, you know?

Complete asshole, and oh my God, do you want to hear about this one thing he did once?”

And so on, and also other reasons such as oh no, he’s hot and oh no, he’s an unbearable dumbass, why do I always fall for them?

Fiona comes along because Gavin’s old friends in England get curious about what’s going on with him and there’s a misunderstanding and she kid of, sort of, tries to kill him?

Like.

A lot.

Worse than that time every asshole in the city (and beyond) were after the price on Gavin’s head and persistent as hell and “Wait, Dan told you to what?”

And Fiona’s like “He said, and aI quote, ‘Take care of the wanker, for me, would you, Fiona? I’ll owe you,” and other such things and Gavin almost dies from laughing so hard while Fiona’s like “What? What are you laughing at, you asshole?”

More shenanigans and such and by the time Geoff and Jack do get to Los Santos they’ve heard about this weird as fuck crew  - dangerous, rumors say they took out the biggest name in Los Santos’ history to get where they are - and are greeted with Gavin and Matt and all the other assholes, what even??

#ragehappy #mavin #mavinwood #jerematt #possible alfreyco because of course there is #and other fun things #¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #late night thoughts??? #technically not a fic #vagrant fic #long post

[newstfionline]

Wednesday, September 29, 2021

FBI Data Show An Unprecedented Spike In Murders Nationwide In 2020 (NPR) The number of murders in the United States jumped by nearly 30% in 2020 compared to the previous year in the largest single-year increase ever recorded in the country, according to official FBI statistics released Monday. The data show 21,570 homicides in the U.S. in 2020, which is a staggering 4,901 more than in 2019. The tally makes clear—in concrete terms—just how violent last year was. The overall violent crime rate, which includes murder, assault, robbery and rape, inched up around 5%, while property crimes continued their long-running decline and dropped 8% from 2019. But the spike in murders jumps out in the FBI report because of the sheer scale of the change. Jeff Asher, a data consultant who studies crime rates, said the increase is the largest since national records began being kept in 1960s. The homicide rate thus far in 2021 is up 10% from last year.

Haitians returning to a homeland that’s far from welcoming (AP) Deported from the United States, Pierre Charles landed a week ago in Port-au-Prince, a capital more dangerous and dystopian than the one he’d left four years before. Unable to reach his family, he left the airport alone, on foot. At least 2,853 Haitians deported from Texas have landed here in the last week with $15-$100 in cash handouts and a “good luck out there” from migration officials—many setting foot in the country for the first time in years, even decades. More than a city, Port-au-Prince it is an archipelago of gang-controlled islands in a sea of despair. Some neighborhoods are abandoned. Others are barricaded behind fires, destroyed cars and piles of garbage, occupied by heavily armed men. On Saturday, a local newspaper reported 10 kidnappings in the previous 24 hours including a journalist, a singer’s mother and a couple driving with their toddler, who was left behind in the car. Even before the assassination of President Jovenel Moïse a in July, the government was weak—the Palace of Justice inactive, congress disbanded by Moïse and the legislative building pocked by bullets. Now, although there is a prime minister, it is absent. Most of the population of Port-au-Prince has no access to basic public services, no drinking water, electricity or garbage collection. The deportees join thousands of fellow Haitians who have been displaced from their homes, pushed out by violence to take up residence in crowded schools, churches, sports centers and makeshift camps among ruins. Many of these people are out of reach even for humanitarian organizations.

Some Bolsonaro supporters have called for a military takeover of Brazil. Why do they wave the American flag? (Washington Post) On the day when Brazilians celebrated the nation’s independence, when thousands of protesters this month called on President Jair Bolsonaro to lead a military takeover of the country, a middle-aged man set out onto the streets of Brazil’s largest city, cloaked in the flag. The American flag. Wilson Gomes, 56, strutted down streets thronged by thousands of Bolsonaro supporters, the Stars and Stripes draped across his right shoulder, demanding radical change in Latin America’s largest nation. The time had come to do away with the Brazilian supreme court, which he said had been corrupted by a kleptocratic left and was unfairly targeting Bolsonaro and his supporters. The only way to save the constitution, he said, was to suspend it. At far-right rallies all over the country, where many have called for supreme court judges and opposition lawmakers to be removed, the American flag is now a staple. Supporters wear cowboy hats and belt buckles emblazoned with Texas longhorns. In a country that has more traditionally viewed the United States and its intentions with suspicion, the sudden appropriation of American symbols has exposed a political paradox at the heart of the Bolsonarista movement. A group that many here believe wants to subvert, if not overthrow, Brazilian democracy has chosen as one of its banners the flag of the world’s oldest democracy. “The Brazilian right and American have an agenda in common,” said Sèrgio Sant’Ana, president of the right-wing Conservative Liberal Institute.

Macron says Europeans need to stop being naive and assert independence from the United States (Washington Post) French President Emmanuel Macron urged Europeans to "come out of their naivete" on the world stage and assert their independence from the United States, sending one of the strongest signals to date that the diplomatic crisis prompted by a disrupted submarine deal could have long-lasting repercussions on transatlantic relations. Speaking alongside the Greek prime minister Tuesday at a news conference to unveil a major Franco-Greek defense deal, Macron said the Europeans should make themselves “respected.” “For a bit over 10 years now, the United States has been very focused on itself and has strategic interests that are being reoriented towards China and the Pacific,” he said. “It’s in their right to do so,” he continued, but “we would be naive, or rather we would make a terrible mistake, to not want to draw the consequences.” Macron’s latest remarks come as he appears to position himself as the next leader of Europe, an unofficial role so far largely attributed to German Chancellor Angela Merkel.

China energy crunch triggers shutdowns, pleas for more coal (Reuters) China faces mounting pressure to ramp up coal imports and ensure supplies to keep lights on, factories open and water flowing as a severe power crunch roils the northeastern industrial heartland. With electricity shortages sparked by coal shortages crippling large sections of industry, the governor of Jilin province, one of the hardest hit in the world's no.2 economy, called for a surge in coal imports, while a power company association said supply was being expanded "at any cost". News organisations and social media carried reports and posts saying the lack of power in the northeast had shut down traffic lights, residential elevators and 3G mobile phone coverage as well as triggering factory shutdowns. A utility in Jilin even warned power shortages could disrupt water supplies at any time, before apologising for causing alarm. The power crunch has taken hold as a shortage of coal supplies, toughening greenhouse gas emissions standards and strong demand from industry have pushed coal prices to peaks. Goldman Sachs estimated that as much as 44% of China's industrial activity has been hit by power shortages.

American siblings trapped in China under three-year ‘exit ban’ finally return home (Washington Post) China allowed two U.S. citizens, siblings Victor and Cynthia Liu, who were prevented from leaving the country for more than three years, to return to the United States on Sunday. Cynthia and Victor Liu are the daughter and son of Liu Changming, a businessman wanted on fraud charges in China. The siblings went to China in June 2018 to visit relatives but were barred from leaving, while their mother, Sandra Han, who made the trip with them, was detained. Their lawyers and the U.S. authorities described the move as an attempt to pressure Liu Changming into returning to China to faces charges—despite the siblings saying they had not had contact with their father in years. Victor and Cynthia Liu’s lawyer Marc Ginsberg told the New York Times that he believed a Sept. 9 phone call between President Biden and Chinese President Xi Jinping had “helped to break a logjam” and contributed to the siblings’ release. He added that the siblings would have no comment for the news media.

Japan to lift all coronavirus emergency steps nationwide (AP) Japan’s government says the coronavirus state of emergency will end Thursday so the economy can be reactivated as infections slow. Prime Minister Yoshihide Suga announced Tuesday that virus restrictions will be eased gradually. With the lifting, Japan will be entirely free of emergency requirements for the first time in more than six months.

Taliban issue no-shave order to barbers in Afghan province (AP) The Taliban on Monday banned barbershops in a southern Afghanistan province from shaving or trimming beards, claiming their edict is in line with Shariah, or Islamic, law. The order in Helmand province was issued by the provincial Taliban government’s vice and virtue department to barbers in Lashkar Gah, the provincial capital. During their previous rule of Afghanistan, the Taliban adhered to a harsh interpretation of Islam. Since overrunning Kabul on Aug. 15 and again taking control of the country, the world has been watching to see whether they will re-create their strict governance of the late 1990s. During the Taliban’s previous rule, the conservative Islamists demanded that men grow beards. Since being ousted from power following the U.S.-led invasion in 2001, shaved or cleanly trimmed beards have become popular in the country.

Violence in Nigeria (Foreign Policy) At least 34 people were killed in northern Nigeria following an attack on the village of Madamai in northern Kaduna state, state security commissioner Samuel Aruwan said on Monday, blaming unidentified assailants for the attack. The assault, which Aruwan said took place on Sunday, came the same day that 22 Nigerian security personnel were killed in an attack on an army base in Sokota state, also in the country’s north. In recent weeks, Nigerian states have introduced restrictions on residents in an attempt to stem the violence, attributed to so-called bandits as well as the Islamic State’s West African offshoot.

A Crypto-Trading Hamster Performs Better Than Warren Buffett And The S&P 500 (NPR) What if we told you there was a hamster who has been trading cryptocurrencies since June—and recently was doing better than Warren Buffett and the S&P 500? Meet Mr. Goxx, a hamster who works out of what is possibly the most high-tech hamster cage in existence. It’s designed so that when Mr. Goxx runs on the hamster wheel, he can select among dozens of cryptocurrencies. Then, deciding between two tunnels, he chooses whether to buy or sell. According to the Twitch account for the hamster, his decision is sent over to a real trading platform—and yes, real money is involved. Look, we’re not telling you to follow in this hamster’s financial decisions or that this process is scientific in any way. But what we can tell you is his portfolio is up nearly 20% since he started trading in June, according to his Twitter account. And as of Sept. 12, Mr. Goxx was performing better than Bitcoin, the Nasdaq 100, Warren Buffett’s Berkshire Hathaway and the S&P 500.

#headlines #news