#and I AM part of the problem but I'm also hopelessly in love with it. i also had a very bad day. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lowkeyremi · 5 months

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Hello Maya! Before I start my request, I just wanna say, I love your writing!!! I've been reading your things for a few weeks now (I'm new to tumbler) and I'm hooked!!

Anywho- I was listening to "Enchanted" by Taylor Swift and it gave me the idea of fem!reader meeting Satoru at some big event for sorcerers and falling hopelessly in love with him

heyyyyyy thank you for reading my stuff and i'm really happy you made a request, i've been hoping someone would bc i want to write ideas other than my own. i'm not huge on taylor swift so i had to listen to this song lol its pretty good :) you ask and i shall provide!! also i'm sorry if this isn't what you had in mind :')

Enchanted S. Gojo x fem!reader

wc: 1.1k

content: fluff, meeting and getting together

The night hadn't been going so well. You spilled some of your drink on your dress. That was borrowed from your friend might you add. Three guys that showed any potential interest were already with someone and their dates angrily pulled them away from you.

There are whispers about the oh so famous Satoru Gojo, and how he's finally made an appearance with his long time friend Nanami.

You've heard plenty about him, he's the famous sorcerer from Jujutsu High that has six eyes. He can solve any problem and he's said to be very hot. Honestly you're kind of a hater, you think people are gassing him up for no reason.

You've never personally met him but his description makes it hard to miss him if you see him; white hair blue eyes, but he'll likely be wearing an eye mask.

A sigh escapes your lips as you walk toward the bar for another drink, you would have invited your best friend but she's not a sorcerer and would not get it at all. "Hi, sorry for being back so soon, but could I get a strawberry margarita?" The woman behind the bar nods.

Before she can walk off though, a silky, carefree voice makes a request with your order, "Me too! Never tried strawberry margarita. Sounds pretty fruity." This day is already bad so you turn your head to see who just made it even worse-

A pretty white haired man stands by your side, piercing blue eyes peaking through sunglasses that look down right ridiculous at such a formal event. "Why are you wearing sunglasses indoors??" Is the first thing you ask, no 'Hi how are you?' or 'why are you ordering drinks on my tab?'

"Cuz I could make everyone faint with my pretty blue eyes." He smirks, confidence evident in every word.

You look confused and he finds it cute. A foreign feeling stirs in your stomach. "Just kidding. I'd waste my power if my glasses were off. Actually, I was advised not to wear them, but I didn't wanna wear my mask for this event. I have it in my pocket just in case though." He's so light and bubbly you almost forget what you were fuming about.

"You're Gojo right?" He smiles and gives a quick nod.

"And you must be 'girl with a stain on her dress', huh?" You fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"Woo that was a good one, almost made my stomach hurt from laughter." You counter sarcastically; the moodiness coming back to you.

"Haha, my bad. Anyway when we get drinks I'll find us somewhere to sit and I'll make you laugh for real." That confidence is still there. You love funny people, they're exciting to be around.

"I'm holding you to that. I need a good laugh." His smile consists of all his pearly whites and is enough to make you, or anyone around you melt.

He goes to pay for your drink, and even hands it to you. "I have to say you are way less selfish than people make you out to be."

The man in question shrugs and smirks at you, "I am very selfish about certain things, childish even. It's only the first date though so pretend you don't know about that." He waves his hand dismissively. You couldn't even care about the fact he admitted to selfishness, you're stuck up on the part where he said this is a date.

"Who said this is a date?" He notices you're trying to play it cool, but he can see right through you.

"I did. I mean if you want, we can think of it more as a blind date since it wasn't planned." Something about him doesn't rub you the wrong way or make you angry at all. He's definitely an odd ball, but he's able to make you feel something in your gut that you haven't felt in a very long time, maybe not ever, actually.

"I- what- you can't just-" You cut yourself off, lost for words, trying to comprehend what he'd just said.

He intertwines his fingers with yours. They're cold to the touch, long and slender. He does that thing where you rub your thumb across all the other fingers. On top of that he gives you that love struck gaze. You're all kinds of confused because why is someone like him trying to flirt with you??? He could literally have any other pretty sorcerer but he's walking you over to a fancy table to sit and talk.

"Ugh, you're supposed to have warm hands to contrast my cold ones." He complains, and if you weren't already stunned then you definitely were now. He's swinging his arm back in forth, with you mirroring it because he's holding your hand.

"I can't help my hands being cold, maybe you should be the one with the warm hands." He shrugs at your response. The swinging stops when you two reach a table big enough for four and pulls out your chair for you.

"I normally don't do this but you're definitely worth it." a lopsided grin covers his face.

As nice as all of this is you look around for cameras. Your mind is telling you he means no harm, but you can never be too sure.

"Okay, is this some kind of joke or show?? Where are the cameras because this can't be real." The white haired six foot something giant's face contorts into something very (ugly) funny. His face scrunches up at your words.

"I can't believe you'd suggest something like that! I'm serious, I just want to be a normal guy and have a normal encounter with someone. So, can you just pretend I'm a normal date and not Gojo Satoru?" He's telling the truth and for the first time tonight you fully relax.

"Okay, hi normal guy. What do you like to do?" You ask playfully feeling enchanted by his charismatic presence. He makes you feel a sense of freedom like you never have before.

The rest of the night the two of you goof off and talk about all kinds of things. Eventually he's being dragged out by Nanami because of how drunk he is. He'd given you his number, "Call me!!!" He whines loudly while being led to the car he arrived in.

"Okay! When I do, don't forget everything from tonight." You yell back to him.

"Like hell I will!" And he was telling the truth because about two hours later when you were winding down for bed you get a call from an unknown number. Usually you wouldn't pick up but you have a feeling that the person on the other side was none other than Gojo normal guy.

"Hello?" You don't get a response for a few seconds, your stomach drops thinking you had miscalculated...

"I miss you already, when can I see you again?" He asks sleepily.

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etoilesombre · 5 months

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Hey, do you guys want to hear a story? Let me tell you about the romance between Lancelot and Guinevere, as recounted in Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur.

So, I thought I knew the basics. I grew up reading modern versions of Arthurian legend that focused on other aspects, but had a general knowledge of the Arthur-Guinever-Lancelot love triangle. It didn't show up too much, but I assumed it was subtext in some other versions. What I picked up was that it was sort of pure, almost an ot3, and not the cause of a lot of problems.

My friends. In this version it is NOT SUBTEXT, it DEFINITELY CAUSED PROBLEMS, and it is WILD. It is a true will-they-won't-they drama fest soap opera romance, and I need to share. So please, come on this journey with me.

[I’m looking at you, Black Sails fandom people. I need you to know that Flint canonically would have read this. He would almost certainly have also grown up hearing these stories. I’m not saying he’s Lancelot coded, but I am saying it's interesting that he would have been aware that was something it was possible to be.]

A couple notes, before we dive in. I am very much just summarizing what happened in the book. The thing is, the book is a million pages long and also in Middle English, and this is just one of many plots, which I think is why it's not more widely known. I will show some excerpts so you can get a feel for the text, but you don’t need to read them to understand the story. I'm referring to a version that is as close to the manuscript as I can find, though with spelling regularized. For real fun, see what the original looked like. Malory purports to be translating part of the French Vulgate cycle, which likely is where the character of Lancelot originates, but in fact he is doing much more than translating, and compiles other stories as well. Point being, when he says “so the French book sayeth” etc, that is the “book” to which he is referring. Because of my lack of knowledge about the language and cultural context, this lecture series from Mythgard Academy was absolutely invaluable to my understanding. I cannot recommend it highly enough. Inevitably, some of the opinions of the prof are reflected here. I do not have it in me to compare the scholarship of various medievalists right now, I just want to tell you about this DRAMA.

Let’s start with a prophecy. When Arthur decides he wishes to marry Guinevere, Merlin advises him to take someone else, because if he takes her, she will betray him with Lancelot and it will destroy his kingdom. All of this is foretold, not only to us, but to Arthur himself. Of course he takes her anyway, and all is doomed from the start.

As we begin the main arc of this story (several books after the prophecy), Lancelot is widely acknowledged to be the best and most renowned knight of Arthur’s court. He is plainly and hopelessly in love with Guinevere, and she loves him in return. Arthur doesn’t have a problem with this - who wouldn’t love Guinevere? This sort of love is socially acceptable, so long as they do not sleep together, which would be treason. Arthur in fact seems to support their love, because it means that Lancelot will be Guinevere’s champion should she need one. This is a role Arthur himself legally cannot fill because he is the king, and so would have to be the judge. Lancelot is indeed a good champion for her, and fights for her when she is wrongly accused of murder.

Lancelot is deeply chivalrous, in a way that seems sincere. This is a great place for a first excerpt, a conversation with a Random Damsel Lancelot has been helping:

‘Now, damosel,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘will ye any more service of me?’ ‘Nay, sir,’ she said, ‘at this time, but almighty Jesu preserve you wheresoever ye ride or go, for the most courteous knight thou art and meekest unto all ladies and gentlewomen that now liveth. But one thing, sir knight, me thinks ye lack, ye that are a knight wifeless, that ye will not love some maiden or gentlewoman. For I could never hear say that ever ye loved any of no manner of degree, and that is great pity. But it is noised that ye love Queen Guenivere, and that she hath ordained by enchantment that ye shall never love no other but her, nor no other damosel nor lady shall rejoice you; wherefore there be many in this land of high estate and low that make great sorrow.’ ‘Fair damosel,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘I may not warn* people to speak of me what it pleaseth them; but for to be a wedded man, I think it not; for then I must couch with her, and leave arms and tournaments, battles and adventures. And as for to say to take my pleasance with paramours, that will I refuse, in principal for dread of God. For knights that be adventurous should not be adulterers nor lecherous, for then they be not happy nor fortunate unto the wars; for either they shall be overcome with a simpler knight than they be themselves, or else they shall slay by unhap and their cursedness better men than they be themselves. And so who that useth paramours shall be unhappy, and all thing unhappy that is about them.’

So after doing his Knightly Deeds for this damsel, Lancelot asks if she needs anything else. She says no, but you are lacking one thing, which is the love of a woman. It is rumored that is because Guinevere has through sorcery made you love only her, and that causes all of the women great sorrow. In reply Lancelot makes this speech about how he cannot have a wife or paramour and be a good knight, but everyone thinks it is at least in part because his love is reserved for Guinevere.

Now, throughout the book his chastity DOES notably cause all of the women great sorrow. Everyone wants to sleep with Lancelot. Literally he is kidnapped by the four most beautiful queens other than Guinevere, and they say he has to choose one of them as a lover (not even a wife, a lover) or else die. He says he would rather die, though in the end he escapes. This is just an example, truly it is a recurring problem for him. He is, at one point, tricked into sleeping with a woman with whom he conceives his son Galahad (as was prophesied, it's a long story and the romance is only part of it. It is worth mentioning that something similar happens to Arthur, which is how Mordred is sired.) When Guinevere learns that Lancelot has been with someone else, she is angry and banishes him from the court. They still love each other and eventually reconcile.

So, Lancelot goes on the quest for the holy grail. But he fails, specifically because while he is outwardly dedicated to God, in his private heart he is still dedicated to Guinevere. And so he makes a vow to renounce his love for her, acknowledging that it is beyond measure (beyond what is right, even if they have not technically done anything wrong.) However when he returns to Camelot, he cannot keep this vow, as we see.

Then, as the book saith, Sir Lancelot began to resort unto Queen Guenivere again, and forgot the promise and the perfection that he made in the quest. For, as the book saith, had not Sir Lancelot been in his privy thoughts and in his mind so set inwardly to the Queen as he was in seeming outward to God, there had no knight passed him in the quest of the Sangrail, but ever his thoughts were privily on the Queen. And so they loved together more hotter than they did beforehand, and had many such privy draughts together that many in the court spoke of it, and in especial Sir Agravain, Sir Gawain’s brother, for he was ever open-mouthed. So it befell that Sir Lancelot had many resorts of ladies and damosels that daily resorted unto him to be their champion: in all such matters of right Sir Lancelot applied him daily to do for the pleasure of Our Lord Jesu Christ. And ever as much as he might he withdrew him from the company of Queen Guenivere for to eschew the slander and noise, wherefore the Queen waxed wroth with Sir Lancelot.

He and Guinevere start spending a lot of time alone together, and so there are rumors circulating about them in court. In order to put a stop to the rumors, Lancelot starts paying other women attention and doing more good knightly deeds for them. Guinevere is terribly jealous, but he tells her it's for their own good, and also tells her about the vow he made, and his concern that their love is beyond what is appropriate. She is devastated, and weeping banishes him from the court (again).

Lancelot then rides in a tournament, disguised. (Why? Because this is simply a thing knights do.) To make it an effective disguise he takes the token of a woman, the sleeve of the fair maid of Astolat to wear on his helm. When she discovers that he was only using it for the disguise, and he does not indeed love her, she is so heartbroken that she says if he will not marry her or be her lover, she will die. He refuses, on the grounds that love must not be constrained and should arise from the heart, and offers her a thousand pounds a year instead if she marries anyone else. Properly insulted by this, she does indeed die. She has her body sent in a boat to Camelot, with a letter in her hand, saying that she died of her love for him, that he would not return.

Seeing this, Guinevere reconciles with Lancelot, presumably reassured by the fact that he would let this very beautiful much younger woman die of her love rather than being with her. She insists that from now on he will not fight in disguise, and will openly bear her token.

Then Queen Guenivere sent for Sir Lancelot, and said thus: ‘I warn you that ye ride no more in no jousts nor tournaments but that your kinsmen may know you; and at these jousts that shall be ye shall have of me a sleeve of gold. And I pray you for my sake to force* yourself there, that men may speak you worship. But I charge you as ye will have my love, that ye warn your kinsmen that ye will bear that day the sleeve of gold upon your helmet.’ ‘Madam,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘it shall be done.’ And either made great joy of other.

It is important to keep in mind that, to this point, there is no textual evidence that they were sleeping together, and a great deal of evidence that it was important to Lancelot that they not cross that line. There is much less evidence that this is important to Guinevere.

So then one fateful day in May, Guinevere goes picnicing with an entourage of knights. They are captured by someone else who is in love with Guinevere, and taken back to his castle, but she manages to send a message to Lancelot. At the castle, she insists that her knights sleep in her bedchamber on the grounds that they were wounded in the battle when she was captured and need tending, but truly she wants them there to keep her captor from raping her.

Lancelot arrives to rescue her, and the person who kidnapped her agrees to give her back in the morning. She tells Lancelot to visit her room in the night. He climbs up to her window, which is barred. They have a heartfelt reunion and she says she wishes he could come in to her. He acquiesces and breaks the bars to get into her room, cutting his hand to the bone to do so. Despite the profusely bleeding wound and the ten other men sleeping in the room, they at last do sleep together, in this passionate blood covered consummation. He sneaks back out and replaces the bars.

In the morning, the man who kidnapped Guinevere comes in and sees blood all over the bed. He accuses her of being unfaithful to the king, saying she lay with one of the knights who had been sleeping in her room. She denies it, but it is very clear that she did sleep with someone who was bleeding.

Lancelot says he will fight to defend her from this accusation, which is right and proper because he is her champion. In this story people take trial by combat and oaths before God very seriously, especially Lancelot. He really does try. So he swears an oath that he will prove with his life that Guinevere did not sleep with one of the wounded knights who lay in her room. This of course is TRUE, but only on a technicality. Lancelot, having slept with her himself the night before, is also the one who defends her honor after. I love this story so much.

Instead of fighting him, the kidnapper takes Lancelot captive. In captivity he encounters ANOTHER damsel who insists that sleep with her in order for her to help him. He refuses, still faithful in his heart to Guinevere. Eventually she settles for him holding and kissing her, which is not across the line of appropriateness apparently, giving us some idea of where that line is drawn. Anyway, Lancelot gets out, fights for Guinevere and wins. There are indications that he feels like he barely dodged a devine bullet.

Guinevere and Lancelot return to Camelot. Finally the rumors about them are true, the deed has been done, but of course nothing appears particularly different as there were already rumors about them. Two knights, Mordred and Agravaine, who have been intriguing against Arthur already, go and tell Arthur that Guinevere is being untrue to him. Here is his response:

‘If it be so,’ said the King, ‘wit you well, he is none other; but I would be loath to begin such a thing but I might have proofs of it. For Sir Lancelot is a hardy knight, and all ye know that he is the best knight among us all; and but if he be taken with the deed he will fight with him that bringeth up the noise, and I know no knight that is able to match him. Therefore, and it be sooth as ye say, I would that he were taken with the deed.’ For as the French book saith, the King was full loath that such a noise should be upon Sir Lancelot and his queen. For the King had a deeming of it; but he would not hear thereof, for Sir Lancelot had done so much for him and for the Queen so many times that, wit you well, the King loved him passingly well.

Arthur says he will not hear of this without proof, because if Lancelot is accused and allowed to fight he would beat anyone. And, it is said that Arthur had some idea of the affair, but would not credit it because Lancelot had done so much for him and Guinevere, and he loved Lancelot greatly.

So, one night when the king is away hunting, the two accusers contrive to catch them in the act, with a group of twelve armed knights. They do find Lancelot in Guinevere’s chamber, but the text is notably, pointedly vague about whether they are actually in bed. In any case, Lancelot asks for a trial. The knights say no, they have caught him and so may kill him. He is Lancelot, so he kills all of them instead, save one (Mordred) whom he leaves wounded. Lancelot flees, intending to return to rescue Guinevere and take her to his own castle to protect her from Arthur’s wrath. He maintains her innocence, and still intends that they will all reconcile.

Guinevere is to be burned at the stake (normal in this situation). Lancelot rescues her from the burning at the last moment, killing a number of knights of the round table. Arthur seems to blame the accusers more than Guinevere and Lancelot (for good reason; keep in mind that the romance is a subplot, there is a great deal of political intrigue going on.) Now a war will begin, whether anyone wants it or not, because of the people Lancelot killed. Lancelot takes Guinevere to his own castle. Battle lines are drawn, and Lancelot and Arthur confront each other in the fighting:

And ever was King Arthur about Sir Lancelot to have slain him, and ever Sir Lancelot suffered him and would not strike again. So Sir Bors encountered with King Arthur; and Sir Bors smote him, and so he alit and drew his sword and said to Sir Lancelot, ‘Sir, shall I make an end of this war?’—for he meant to have slain him. ‘Not so hardy,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘upon pain of thy head, that thou touch him no more! For I will never see that most noble king that made me knight neither slain nor shamed.’ And therewith Sir Lancelot alit off his horse and took up the King and horsed him again, and said thus: ‘My lord the king, for God’s love, stint this strife, for ye get here no worship and I would do my utterance. But always I forbear you, and ye nor none of yours forbear not me. And therefore, my lord, I pray you remember what I have done in many places, and now am I evil rewarded.’ So when King Arthur was on horseback he looked on Sir Lancelot; then the tears burst out of his eyes, thinking of the great courtesy that was in Sir Lancelot more than in any other man. And therewith the King rode his way and might no longer behold him, saying to himself, ‘Alas, alas, that yet this war began!’

So Arthur tries to slay Lancelot, but Lancelot, the better fighter, refuses to slay him and indeed when Arthur is unhorsed Lancelot forbids that he be slain, and gives him his own horse. Arthur weeps for the honor that is in Lancelot, and laments that the war began.

The pope intervenes and tries to negotiate an end. Lancelot confirms that he is willing to return Guinevere to Arthur, and says he has always been willing to do this and will still defend her honor, but that he does not feel he can do so because Arthur has listened to liars and been misled, and he had more reason to take her away than the accusation of adultery - he does not trust she can be safe in that court, with things as they are.

Eventually they do make a deal, with some assurances, and he surrenders Guinevere to the king. He kisses her openly, says that he will leave, but should she be in danger or ever again accused of being untrue, he will fight for her as he always has. He departs the court forever, to much great sorrow, and returns to his own lands.

The war continues - eventually Mordred seizes the throne, Arthur kills him in battle but is mortally wounded himself and passes to Avalon. Following the king’s death, although her love would no longer be adulterous, Guinevere retires to a convent rather than reuniting with Lancelot. He seeks her out, and this is her reaction:

Sir Lancelot was brought before her; then the Queen said to all those ladies, ‘Through this same man and me hath all this war been wrought, and the death of the most noblest knights of the world; for through our love that we have loved together is my most noble lord slain. Therefore, Sir Lancelot, wit thou well I am set in such a plight to get my soul health; and yet I trust through God’s grace and through His Passion of His wounds wide, that after my death I may have a sight of the blessed face of Christ Jesu, and at Doomsday to sit on His right side;* for as sinful as ever I was, now are saints in heaven. And therefore, Sir Lancelot, I require thee and beseech thee heartily, for all the love that ever was betwixt us, that thou never see me no more in the visage. And I command thee, on God’s behalf, that thou forsake my company; and to thy kingdom look thou turn again, and keep well thy realm from war and wrack. For as well as I have loved thee heretofore, my heart will not serve now to see thee, for through thee and me is the flower of kings and knights destroyed. And therefore go thou to thy realm, and there take ye a wife and live with her with joy and bliss. And I pray thee heartily to pray for me to the everlasting Lord that I may amend my misliving.’ ‘Now, my sweet madam,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘would ye that I should turn again unto my country, and there to wed a lady? Nay, madam, wit you well, that shall I never do, for I shall never be so false unto you of that I have promised. But the self* destiny that ye have taken you to, I will take me to, for the pleasure of Jesu; and ever for you I cast me specially to pray.

Rather than rejoicing in Lancelot’s presence, Guinevere laments that their love brought about the downfall of the Arthurian court, and the deaths of the knights of the round table and King Arthur. She calls upon Lancelot, by all the love that was ever between them to leave her presence, telling him to marry someone else if he wishes and see her no more. Lancelot replies that he wants no one else, and that he will respect her wishes, but will also renounce the world and join a religious order. He asks Guinevere for a final parting kiss, which she denies him.

When Guinevere lies dying of illness, Lancelot sets out to go to her, having had a vision. She knows of his coming, and prays to die before she sees him, because she cannot bear it. She dies a half hour before he arrives, leaving instruction that he is to tend to her body, and then lay it to rest beside that of her lord King Arthur. Lancelot does this with great sorrow, and after ceases to eat or drink, and within weeks is dead himself.

And there you have it, the love affair that doomed Camelot.

HUGE DISCLAIMER: Any and all mistakes or misinterpretations are my own. This is what I gathered, but I am not a medievalist. I am barely an interested layperson. I’m just a random fic writer who got obsessed with research for a story, and had to share this tragic mess.

#i have a million thoughts about this #and there is a great deal of context that would be helpful #but i this doesnt need to be more than 4k words long so #i may do a followup post if there is interest #but black sails folks #i'm writing a lot of flintmadi convos right now #and vaguely planned to have them talk about this book #as a way to discuss their own situation and values #but i had not actually read it #and it is WAY MORE than i expected #anyway they are going to refer back to it #so i figured i should write it down so i can point at it if readers want to know wtf they are talking about #is there an #arthurian legend #tag?#i purposefully haven't looked i don't go here if there is a here to go #but fuck it that was a lot of work might as well see #anyway there are so many things to dig into here #arthur's role or lack thereof #(the rest of the book has a lot more to do with him)#the treatment of fate and prophesy #the courtly love tradition #how this fits into the arthurian tradition as a whole #and the clear french influence #vs the old celtic stories #also so many fun things about language in general #did you know that paramour is derived basically the same way as paramilitary?#'para' as 'beyond that which is regular'#also in middle english negatives are additive rather than canceling each out out!#fun facts

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poppletonink · 9 months

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Best Quotes From 'Best Friend's Brother' (Part One - Jegulus Edition)

"Maybe James will wait for three years, maybe he won't, but Regulus? Oh, Regulus will wait all the way until his final breath."

"If you ever change your mind, if you ever decide you do want me, you have me. My feelings never changed, love. They're never going to."

"My heart doesn't know it yet. All it knows is that it belongs to you. I haven't quite worked out what I'm supposed to do with that, honestly, but that's not your problem. If you don't want it, then you don't."

"I'm hopelessly, pathetically in love with James Potter. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. I want to marry him; I would marry him tomorrow if he asked, and I've been running from marriage my whole life," Regulus murmurs, and his entire face erupts into a bloom of red.

"Why am I like this? I should have just warned him at the start, should have told him—if you keep being mean to me, I'm going to fall in love with you."

"Regulus is so still that it's like he's impersonating a statue, but one carved and frozen into a state of great emotion. There's devotion there, cutting into the pinched wrinkle of his brows and the hollow of his cheeks, his mouth parted. He's beautiful. He is so, so heartbreakingly beautiful that it's hard to look at him, and even harder to look away."

"If Regulus were actually a statue, one of those chiseled with precision and put on display, James knows it would be a famous attraction."

"The truth is—the real truth is—Regulus is rain and whipping winds, mystery and familiar, angelic and man. He is made of stardust and something cosmic, but he is also home."

"James didn't find forever in Lily Evans; he discovered it in Regulus Black."

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indestructibleheart · 4 months

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🧭🤔❤️

xoxo MJ/kiwiana-writes

🧭: An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)?

Technically, most of them are currently titled with "alternative" titles that definitely won't be what they're called, lmao. My latest WIP is called "am I more than you bargained for yet?", which may or may not be its actual title. It will definitely be a FOB title and might be:

part-time soulmate, full-time problem OR

i'm just hopelessly hopeful (you're just hopeless enough) OR

i’d burn this city down to show you the light

OR... something completely different... 😂

🤔: What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

There are several docs on my drive that don't have a single word written for them yet, but that I really want to write. I think #1 on that list is my playwright/actor AU that I told you about.

There's also this other thing that I haven't talked about yet because I'm afraid that it will become my entire brain if I talk too much about it... and I have other, shorter things I think I want to do first. 😅

Send me emojis!

#ask:meme #kiwiana

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kagiura-akira · 4 months

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i took this part out of my current WIP because I felt like I was making the fic too dark for their ages, so then when I took the darker themes out, this conversation between Niibashi and Kagi I had written didn't make sense, but I really like it so I saved it. So here's a cut scene from a (since revised and completely rewritten) chapter of I'll Love You If You Let Me. I like it because of all of Niibashi's wisdom and all that

___

Hirano sat up groggily and rubbed his eyes. He squinted at the early morning light peeking through the window, then looked away and down at Kagi for reprieve from the light. "We'd better get up. Can't spend too much time lying around in bed. You've got practice, and I've got to help Sasaki with his studies."

He gripped Kagi by his side to nudge him out of bed, but the skin of his palm against his bare abdomen sent a rushing sensation through the younger boy. A chill that helped wake him up.

After both were dressed and ready to stop by the cafeteria for breakfast prior to heading to school, they lingered in the genkan for a bit to get one last kiss in before another long, arduous day of not being able to touch, and likely another day of not even seeing each other until the evening.

On the way to school, Kagi thought about the feeling when Hirano touched him this morning, as minor as it was. His hand twitched as they walked side by side, itching to interlock their fingers. Flashbacks to the night prior - the way he looked at him with hungry eyes and his teasing with that confident and cocky attitude - all of it came back to his mind. Unfortunately, even as they parted ways at the stairs, the memory stuck to the forefront of his mind. It haunted him throughout the day, the embarrassment of his reaction to too much stimulation and the way he stopped everything. Even if the way they fell asleep was pleasant and warm, the way he acted was almost childish.

“Uuurrrggggggghhhhhhh!”

“What the hell is your problem?” Niibashi barked at him. Kagi had crumpled into a pathetic ball in the corner of the classroom, the broom previously in his hand completely forgotten as it had fallen with a clatter onto the floor. “Please tell me you're not having a meltdown about your husband. I'm not in the mood today, Kagiura,” he said with a light kick to his shin.

“Please just leave me here to die, Niibashi,” Kagi muttered.

Niibashi let an agitated groan slip from his throat. 'He's your friend. You have to support him. Support him, Juuya. Friends support friends. Friends support friends. Friends support friends,' he chanted over to himself a few times before taking a seat on the floor next to his friend. “So, what's got you down today, buddy?” he said reluctantly.

Kagi buried his head into the crook of his arm, “I am the world's biggest blockhead, Niibashi.”

“Agreed,” the pink haired boy said, “but I'd like to know why you think so.”

“Last night, Taiga-san and I... We, I, ugh. I blew it. We almost- We could've- If I just-”

“Whoa there, big guy. Take a big deep breath for me,” Niibashi said with a pat on the shoulder. “I can't particularly say I want to know what you were about to do, but I can take a good guess. Without being too descript, why don't you tell me why you're upset with yourself?”

Kagi rolled over on his back to stare up at the ceiling hopelessly. “Things were a little... hot and heavy last night,” he said quietly, though he was stating the obvious. He put his arm over his eyes. “We both wanted it, but I stopped it.”

Niibashi shifted uncomfortably, resting his hand on his knee as he looked out the window. “So you're upset with yourself for interrupting?”

“Embarrassed is a better word,” Kagi rolled over onto his side to face the wall.

“I guess I'm not following why,” Niibashi's speech was unusually patient but also uneven, like he was trying his hardest for Kagi to be the supportive friend he deserved.

“I stopped it because I was afraid.” Kagi took a deep breath, “I'm afraid that I'll get out of control, that I'll hurt him. It was so lame, Niibashi. I acted like such a kid.”

The other boy hummed, “Well for what it's worth, you are a kid. You both are. You may be younger, but the two of you aren't so different when it comes to maturity.” Kagi opened his mouth to correct him, but Niibashi stopped him. “Turning 18 doesn't magically make someone mature. Besides, the World Health Organization considers you an adolescent from 10-19. It's not like he became a different person on his 18th birthday, nor will you a year from now.”

“Yeah, but-”

“And what did he think about it anyway? Surely you two talked about it.”

“He was okay with waiting for me,” Kagi said taking his arm away from his face. A little blush tinted his cheeks when he remembered Hirano's understanding and loving gaze. The blush deepened when he remembered the other part of that conversation:

“Akira, has it ever occurred to you that I might want you to be rough with me?”

#hrkg strawberry dreams universe #fic talk

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rahleeyah · 10 months

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I think my main problem with the TL final is that I actually liked and enjoyed it and, with the exception of Ted, Rebecca, and Beard, I was happy with where it left everyone. So it's been hard for me to properly reconcile these positive emotions with how sad and annoyed I am at the way Ted's and Rebecca's and Beard's stories ended. It feels like they got 'paper endings' - endings that they should have had, that made sense for them to have; endings that looked good on paper but that somehow failed to transition properly to the screen. Like Beard choosing his new life and girlfriend in Richmond over his old life in Kansas makes perfect sense. He doesn't appear to have anyone or anything waiting for him back in Kansas so of course he decides to stay. Except the show has spent three seasons showing both Jane and their relationship to be toxic (at best) and outright abusive (at worst) and I'm sad that (dream or not) married to Jane with a baby on the way was deemed the best ending for him.

After her relationship with Rupert Rebecca deserved to have a happy ending surrounded by her friends and with someone who loves her. And she gets that! And the chance to be a mother! And yet her ending feels so unsatisfactory because they put their female lead with a man with no name who was introduced halfway through the final season with only 20 minutes of screen time. But the thing that I'm really annoyed about is that I would have been fine with her ending up with him if they had put the effort into building their relationship. Amsterdam showed that there was something between them and they could have easily used that as a jumping off point to build something more solid between them that would make their ending satisfying. Instead, they chose to have Rebecca decide not to know his name; they chose for her to decide not to keep in contact with him; they drew a line under Amsterdam as soon as the episode had finished and now I can't be happy that a character I love is in a relationship that (appears to) make her happy because I have absolutely no emotional investment in it whatsoever. She got the ending I wanted for her and I cannot enjoy it and I am heartbroken by that. (1/2)

Hi ok I know it's been a minute but let's get into it:

(this is a lot I'm gonna try to do this in order)

I did like parts of it, sort of, and I agree with you on the 'paper endings' thing - it looks good on paper but it doesn't resonate, emotionally.

I hated what they did with Roy/Keeley/Jamie but that's a separate post.

Yes the Beard thing works on paper - he stays with his new love - but not in practice bc she's awful, and everything Brendan has said about it has raised huge red flags to me; it's not abuse why? Bc she's a woman and it's cute/endearing when women are abusive??

Rebecca finding a supportive man, and family, is great, except you're right - who is this guy? Why do we care? It was so on the nose, also; I was looking for "Rebecca is already a mother to the team, to the fans, and that is a valid way of nurturing and loving people" but instead we got "the traditional heterosexual family structure is the only valid family structure."

Ted doesn't really grow; he's right back where he started, putting aside his own needs and desires for other people, his life hopelessly entangled with the woman who left him for their couples therapist.

And Ted and Rebecca!! What was the point of the parallels with their fathers, their awful exes, the when Harry met Sally couple in the stands! What was the point of these deliberate choices that were made to draw a line between Ted and Rebecca only for the writers and cast to now mock people who thought all those choices meant something? That is a profound piece of cruelty; I've had ships that were fan creations, that weren't ever gonna be main text, and that is not what this was. This wasn't delusion; this was baked right in, and now they're shaking their heads at us?

And Ted, at the end, looks miserable.

I've been thinking lately that there feels like a lot about the ending of this show that is deeply masculine, by which I mean it is reflective of how our society says men are supposed to behave and what our society says men are supposed to believe.

Sport is one of the few places where men's emotions are encouraged. You're meant to love your team, your teammates, meant to laugh and cry and scream with them, but being on a sports team is by its very definition transient. Those relationships are so profound when you're in them, but they are meant to come to an end; the season's over, a player gets traded, you're too old to do it anymore, etc, and then the men have to go back to what society will allow them to have: family. A woman and child to love, not a found family of fellow men. The man can't aspire to stay with his team; he's only meant to be with them for a season.

And that's true of a lot of different kinds of relationships, but I just think it's very telling that we have a bunch of men running this show saying obviously the romance with Rebecca wasn't real - she's not Ted's wife, not the mother of his child, she can't take priority - saying Ted had to put Henry, had to put being a father (being a father in the strictest, most traditional way, no out of the box thinking or creative solutions here) above any other relationships he might have, bc he's not supposed to want kinship with those men, he's only supposed to want it with his family.

Idk this is something I'm still trying to articulate but it makes me very, very sad bc I think it reflects an attitude of people who think they don't deserve to stay with their friends, with their community, where they're happy, bc they have obligations that they are only permitted to fulfill in one very strict, structured, lonesome way.

#anonymous #ted

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taken-aurally · 2 years

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Zelda, Link, Ganon number 10 to make it interesting

Interesting it certainly is — I have had to give this one quite a bit of thought, and I'm not yet sure that these are the best answers.

Also, assuming Breath of the Wild incarnations of each.

Also also, I'm not totally sure if this should be Ganondorf the Gerudo King, or Ganon the Dark Beast, so I'm doing both.

And finally, I'm sticking to canon for these as much as I can — by which I mean I'm answering not for Ganondorf the Himbo King, but Ganondorf the Great King of Evil (frustration with this aspect of fandom documented in a previous post).

Netflix & Chill

(Interpreting this literally, with the casual intimacy of close friends at most, not the "wink wink nudge nudge" version)

Zelda: She needs the space to not have the world on her shoulders for a little while, and she's likely to have interesting takes on whatever we're watching, whether silly or serious.

Link: Most likely to be sound asleep within fifteen minutes. Not necessarily a problem, though.

Ganondorf: Does he even know how to chill? That aside, the series implies he can be very charming, but never genuinely so — he charms only as a means to further his own lust for power. The vibes are rancid.

The Dark Beast: The vibes are no less rancid, but my apartment and I are unlikely to survive the encounter. Pass.

Ice Skating

Zelda: Doesn't strike me as the most coordinated of people, so hey, she's on my level! We'll fall down together a thousand times and nurse our bruises over tea afterward.

Link: He'll skate rings around me while giving me pointers on how to be more steady. His inner goofball will come out to play.

Ganondorf: Not remotely in his element. We all need humbling experiences, but these will only fuel his rage. The most likely outcome is we'll fall down a thousand times together, and he lifts me by the neck and chokes me to death in front of witnesses. Alternatively, the fear is an excellent motivator and I learn to skate.

The Dark Beast: Skates confound it completely, it falls and cracks the ice hard. If we're on an artificial rink, people with common sense run for their lives; people filming it for social media die messily once the beast finds solid ground. If we're on a frozen lake, the beast's attempts to get back up shatter the ice completely. The beast dies, along with me and three dozen innocent bystanders; I am remembered as a hero afterward (but Tiktok calls me problematic because of the bystanders; there's just no pleasing some people).

Dodgeball

Zelda: Initially has no confidence, but quickly learns to cast aside dignity in the name of fun and discovers she's actually very good at it (especially the dodge part, given that nobody ever lands a hit on her in canon). Lots of laughter.

Link: Hopelessly outclasses me, but intentionally limits himself for the sake of everyone having a good time. Sets up ridiculous challenges for himself in the name of entertainment; everyone loves it. There is a spontaneous parody of the Top Gun homoerotic volleyball montage.

Ganondorf: Thinks the entire thing is beneath him, until someone beans him square in the back of the head. The tennis boss par excellence throws the ball at the offender of his pride so hard it kills them and breaks the ball. Ball out of play, he then begins shooting dark energy balls at everyone left. Three or four intrepid souls manage to hang on dodging the energy balls for a few scant minutes; I go down early and fake death, rising again only after the paramedics arrive.

The Dark Beast: Is absolutely crap at dodgeball — he's an immense target, and never manages to hit Link in single combat, so accuracy is not his strength. He does somewhat better with multiple targets. The dodgeball isn't substantial enough to hurt him. Loses the game, but kills half a dozen and takes a nap in the middle of the playing field; finds the experience enriching.

Conclusion

If Ganondorf: Ganondorf for Netflix (rancid vibes, but I live, and no bystander deaths), Zelda for ice skating, and Link for dodgeball.

If the Dark Beast: Zelda for Netflix, Link for dodgeball again, and the Dark Beast for skating on the lake (best possible outcome for the world at large).

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fiovske · 2 years

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10, 35, 36, 45, 58, 58, 65. For finn but if any others apply feel free to answer for them!!

oh my goddd finn infodumping tiiime!! this is gonna get long i have a feeling so buckle upp!

10. what inspired this character’s creation?

i have, wanted to play a lost knight so bad for so long! like, all my characters are either wanderers with no attachments who are upset or people who are running from something who are also upset. for finn I wanted them to pursue something instead and I wanted that pursuit to be interwoven with the instinct to protect! so even tho finn starts off with amnesia in the campaign and does not know their purpose, i'm hoping the person they are supposed to protect (i pitched it to the DM as a princess but I've given them full narrative control over molding that to however it fits their worldbuilding!) will show up and that'll mess with finn's head!

35. when did they feel loneliest?

probably when ae discovered that aer princess, someone they were. deeply in love with and were supposed to protect... had been murdered. (and before they even get to process this, they had been framed for said murder.) but because they are bonded magically to the princess as this homebrew subclass i took as a ranger called Witchguard, ae know that the Princess is alive. so up until the amnesia hits... ae believe its a kidnapping.

36. how do they fidget?

probably pulling at the threads at the end of their scarf, which is already torn in one side. and when they're fidgeting they keep shifting their weight from one talon to another, feathers quite literally ruffled.

45. what lies do they tell themselves?

ooooof this is. oooof. finn, i think, is overconfident and believes that every trouble that comes their way they can cut it down, that there's no problem they ever met they can't solve with a blade. also that that they're out on this quest out of a sense of duty. not anything else.

58. how often do they swear? do they mind when others swear?

i think they swear a normal amount, like if they are around other people they wont swear but if ae are around their party they'll swear it really depends on the circles they are in! i think they used to mind if people swore in front of like, the higher-up royalty bc there's this whole image to maintain,, but now they dont mind bc they are very far away from those people.

65. what would their go-to karaoke song be?

i LOVE THIS actually i am SPOILT for choice its either Thousand Miles or. OH OH OH GOT IT ae will be drunk-singing Shallows karaoke by Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga insisting on singing both the parts with exaggerated dramatic moves.

tbh jack i'll keep it real,,,... finn was born out of my, intense need to play a tragic knight hopelessly in love with their princess, for better or for worse. there i said it. its the beau complex. 😔✌️

#this was very very fun jack ily #thank u for letting me infodump abt finn <333 #ae are my.. special blorbo.. i am SO excited to play themmmm #character: finn

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polite-pandemonium · 2 months

Text

Thoughts from an exhausted 30-something

I have been at my job nearly two years and still, sometimes I look around and see someone walk by and just think to myself, wow, I have never seen you before in my life. This honestly happens a lot more than I would like.

I need to go to the pharmacy before it closes and pick up my prescriptions, but I just need like, five minutes to think about what a bad mood I am in and wait to see if I am going to get indigestion from basically INHALING my dinner.

I also inhaled a bunch of Skittles as soon as I got in the door, what is wrong with me?

Speaking of what is wrong with me, spent a good fifteen minutes going back and forth from the kitchen to the mirror by my front door looking at my throat and thinking, "Is that part by my tonsils always red? Have I just never noticed before or am I getting sick?" like a fucking WEIRDO - my health anxiety is so much better than it was before but EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE, I stare at my throat like a WEIRDO.

I ended up saying to my reflection, "ARE YOU OKAY?"

I am SO SICK AND TIRED of the amount of admin life requires. Like I don't want to go to the pharmacy? I don't want to put my dinner away and pack my lunch for tomorrow and run the dish washer and fold laundry. I WANT TO REST.

I read a post on Reddit recently where the poster was lamenting the amount of life admin tasks that make her too exhausted for hobbies and I just...felt that so deeply. I haven't completed any writing in almost four years and I think while a huge part of it is work, the other part is life admin. I just spend so much time cooking and cleaning and feeding myself and book appointments and steaming my clothes and figuring out what to wear to work and putting on make up and washing and drying my hair that I just feel depleted.

But also, I was reading something a bit of writing i was working on yesterday and I just hate it! I think it's so bad! Maybe my best writing days are just behind me! Maybe I just don't got it! Maybe it's not work or life admin, but my talent! Maybe I'm the problem!

It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me.

Taylor Swift has released two new albums (evermore, Midnights) and will probably release a new one (TTPD) before I get around to updating my fic.

Taylor Swift is a year older than me (because she is born so late in 1989 and I was born so early in 1991) and I sometimes feel incredibly close in age to her and also incredibly far away.

Recently, for the first time in years, I just feel incredibly behind my peers. It's a wild feeling but I am accepting that I am kind of stagnating in my career and I'm kind of in a place where I can't do anything about it. I feel like I maybe wrote about this, but I don't think I am worthy of a promotion, but I want one and I want more money. And since I have such great insurance and medication that costs $3,000 a month, I can't really just comfortably move.

God, I regret spending FIVE FUCKING YEARS at a company that bled me dry and wouldn't promote me when I didn't need insurance and wasn't chronically ill.

I guess you can't know you are making mistakes until after you have made them, though.

I also never really care about being single, but I'm so tired lately, that all I want is a partner who can clean the kitchen and make dinner and pick up my prescriptions sometimes. If I didn't have to make dinner or clean up tonight, I could have done so much more! I could even go pick up my prescriptions and still have spare time.

But no, instead I have a messy kitchen and pasta sauce on my shirt.

Oh, to be 33 and hopelessly tired.

Oh, to be 33 and hopelessly alone.

I, for the most part, like being alone. I'm good at alone! I love living alone. I don't really feel like I *need* something or someone to feel less alone. It's just being alone just means that you only have yourself to depend on for everything and it's just a lot.

I am feeling TIRED IN MY BONES.

OK, my time is up, I really gotta go get my prescriptions now.

Which means I have to put on real pants and bundle up and get my travel cooler and ice packs from the freezer to transport one prescription.

Which feels like too much work.

Ugh.

Wait, also, I was in the elevator alone with our CEO today and he brought up my recent trip to Asia and then he mentioned that someone on accounts is going to Tokyo next week and I just felt SILLY saying, "Oh, I am headed back to Tokyo next week, too!" so I just DIDN'T and now he's probably gonna find out I'm going back from my boss and be like, oh that's weird why didn't she say anything? I JUST FEEL A LITTLE SILLY SAYING I'M GOING BACK SO SOON TO MOST PEOPLE.

The more I think about this, he probably won't think that cause he probably WILL NOT REMEMBER we chatted given the conversation started with him saying, "Sorry, I can't remember, have you gone on your trip yet?" And I was like, oh yes, I went in November.

I don't mean this as a slight to him, I just mean he's a busy man and has a lot to think about other than conversations in passing and all of the vacation dates of the many staff.

Also all to say, he's not thinking about me, I'm just placing too much importance on this conversation.

#diana does stuff #more like diana WORD VOMITS

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1d1195 · 8 months

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Hi! I have FINALLY found time to fully give my attention to Protection and read part 6! AND it was also a super nice surprise to see you posted another new piece today, which I most definitely read as well! So I’m going to talk about those two but if it’s too long you don’t have to read it, it’s okay!

Protection: Where do I even BEGIN!?!? Overall this chapter was perfection! I love how you give us glimpses of how domestic their dynamic has become and them getting to know normal little things about each other! The scene of them decorating a Christmas tree together was so adorable yet I felt so sad for her because of how much she was wishing her mother to be there so she could experience Harry :( But Harry comforting her and them having another vulnerable moment together warmed my heart! Now THEIR FIRST FUCKING KISS!?!? I GASPED!!! It was such a them moment, her being so cute and happy and rambling while Harry was just so in awe of her and proud, you painted the perfect scene!!!!(and it so so hot btw) He called her kitten while he was basically teasing her and making her talk… HES INANSE! especially when he was kissing her and telling her he wants her but it’s protocol yet he was all up on her!? He was so annoying, in a cute way obviously! Also him calling her out on faking it was so hot to me and it just something bodyguardrry would say lol I can only hope this man asks her out on his day off!

Right Here: OMG I LOVE THEM ANS I ABSOLUTELY WOULD LOVE TO READ MORE ABOUT THEM!!! You are absolutely a GOD meshing all of the favorite and classic tropes together and still making the flow of the story go so smoothly! The tropes fit SO well and they didn’t feel forced at all! Harry being “sunshine” and hopelessly in love with her from the start but with the “miscommunication” trope they were not able to express their feelings towards each other 😭 brilliant honestly! And I was so devastated that she experienced something so horrible due to the slide incident and honestly I can understand how much that affected her! And the fact that she was still made to feel like SHE was the problem and weird was just so sad :( But once they talked it out my heart leaped so much I was ROOTING FOR THEM! When Harry said “I had a feeling y’couldn’t keep it up forever. And I’d wait forever for you, beautiful”, I DIED! This is so simple yet I find it so meaningful because even after all this time he’s just being their for HER and just wanting to have her in her most raw and vulnerable self is just so wonderful too read about and it hit close to home! Also when he said “Your leggings?” He smiled mischievously. ‘M’almost jealous of ‘em touching all of your legs.’ I GIGGLED because it was good ngl! If any other man said this to me it would be gross but NOT WITH HARRY! I loved it so much and I hope if you ever feel inspired to give an extra please do!

Also I saw what that mean anon said, FUCK THEM! Yes constructive criticism is allowed and having their own opinion is valid but not when it’s laced with the intention to hurt the person, I genuinely believe that they didn’t even fully read it because it was no used too many times! I love love LOVE your nicknames in your stories! It has made me love nicknames more in general! Plus it’s unique to you and I come to your blog because of what YOU create and it’s just so beautiful-💜

Okay I've been anxiously awaiting to hear your thoughts 💕 There isn't an ask you can send that I wouldn't read, I don't care how long it is. You took the time to read almost ~10k of nonsense that I wrote, I'd read whatever you have to say 💕

I am SO glad you liked the next installment of protection! I really liked writing this part. I'm def a Christmas girl (and a momma's girl) so I gotta throw all that in at every chance I get. I couldn't make them wait any longer to kiss but I really, really truly believe Mr. Protocol wouldn't push too much further than they did (and I honestly had a nice long mental battle with myself that what he did was too much anyway!)

Of course I'm glad you liked Right Here too! I don't think there's anything Harry could say to me that I would find gross which is probably a problem but it makes for great writing. I think he could punch me in the face and I'd probably thank him. They were really fun to write about and I thought Harry was actually quite adorable if I'm allowed to say that about myself. I liked making her grumpy and nervous because I thought Harry would be a really nice balance--I thought of him jumping all around stage and it just made so much sense. I think I saw another request to hear more about them. I'll have to see what I can think of lol

Honestly, your other ask about me using kitten to signify they're soulmates (which I realize I didn't do in Right Here but we're going to pretend because obviously) was the first thing I thought of when I got that other message. But honestly I'm glad you didn't feel like it was used too many times. I went back and glanced it over and thought I actually might have but maybe it's because I was bummed about it.

Anyway. I adore you as always and I am SO glad you took the time to write this message <3

xoxo

#💜#protection #right here

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cryptiql · 3 years

Text

untitled god song

pairing: bakugou/m!reader (trans reader in mind you can see it if you squint but can also be read as cis)

words: 2k

warnings: themes of religious trauma, homophobia, mentions of blood, the author projecting their mommy issues

a/n: this is purely self indulgent, don't mind me 😩✋ (written in first person)

i wish i had known him before the pain started. perhaps it is a fools dream to think that his presence would have solved anything, and it is likely that he might blown me sky high at the time, if given the chance, but i often ponder his place in my narrative. he is nothing less than a king—nay, a god—and what else am i to be except his humble servant, adoring him in the only way i've been taught?

i would bruise my knees as i kneel for him, and should he turn me away, i shall be lost and without purpose. but he does not, and instead, he snorts out a laugh and pulls me to my feet, roughly squeezing my cheeks together with a shit-eating grin. he'll tell me a joke i've heard a thousand times, and yet i laugh with him anyways, the pads of my fingers idly tapping the pulse on his wrists.

"dumbass, at least take me out to dinner first."

i never thought i'd ache to hear such a demeaning nickname, but it's like birdsong to my ears, and i long for the myriad of butterflies it provokes.

i would heed his every word like a faithful disciple, and—if i knew he would not use this power for the wrong reasons—carry it out without question. he'll roll his eyes at the notion, far too prideful at the idea of being praised, and card hands through my hair, gripping softly. "right. and if i told you to go to bed before five in the morning, would you listen?"

my smiles are genuine, as they all are with him.

"no." i wish my mother had been more open-minded; more loving to those she claimed were goners. maybe then, i could still call her my mother, and not a snarled version of her first name steeped in vinegar. maybe she could have met him, and maybe she would have keeled over in the process, but that is how we put it "killing two birds with one stone".

he was a fallen angel if ever i saw one—emblazoned in smog and ravenous inferno, the pieces of child-like innocence turning to ash. something happened to him when he was a kid, just as all gifted children, and oh, what a fool i was to let my gaze dawdle on his gorgeous form. but i will never regret it—no, not ever—for there is no such feeling that can compare to his eyes on mine, burning with a mind-fogging intensity.

it was instantaneous, the moment my thoughts turned on me with malicious intent, her voice ringing out like a gunshot.

you'll never be him.

his hand slots with mine perfectly; deliciously warm and comforting in a way i haven't felt in years; and hauls me up, the flecks of dirt and rubble from the road clinging to my jeans.

"watch it, pretty boy. i won't always be here to save you, y'know."

my heart batters against my ribs like a caged bird, screeching and wailing to be set free, and i wonder in a haze if i've died. judgement day must have come early, i think, not realizing that it was spoken aloud until the blonde quirks a brow inquisitively. he does not speak on the matter, but continues on his merry way, leaving my helpless; hopelessly enamored; and praying that we will meet again.

no, i could never be him. but i am like him. he has a sureness in his walk and fervor in the way he talks that is only recognizable when i look in the mirror. and we do meet again. it is a shame, however, that i must burden him with the weight of my past. i remember too often the troubles of my youth, even when all has passed into fleeting memories that haunt me as ghosts do to an abandoned house. yet, i still live in this house, and the ghosts are here to keep me company.

i remember the church, first and foremost; nestled between the barren country road and the outback; a beacon of hope to all those who stood in its doors. the luster of freshly polished wood still sits in my mind, accompanied by the echoing remnants of dulcet tones and multicolored bands of light, glaring from the stained glass windows and dancing across the musty carpet floor. the doddering pews were just as uncomfortable as the poorly padded chairs squatting in the front row, but every sunday, they were filled to the brim with hungry worshippers. they sang praise as though they were starved, but i was too young to understand for what. i am older now, and i still don't understand. all i know is that despite its reputation, the church was a cursed place, and i should never set foot in it again lest i go mad. i remember the creaking stairs which lead downstairs, and the winding halls that reeked of torment where shadows loomed. the paint was corroding and foul, and my conscious always loitered too long on the merlot stain on the ceiling; its origin unknown, but nevertheless urging my stomach to twist with nausea.

i remember the feeling of tall grass grazing my ankles; itching horribly from the old moth-eaten socks i was forced to wear. it had become second nature—running and hiding from my problems, from the church, from her. i shall never know a greater animosity than the likes that my mother encouraged, although unintentionally, with her pressuring views and sickeningly sweet smile. it's fake, and i would know, because ours are the same.

we are too similar, and i am sickened by the fact. will i become the wretched woman she is? will i fail to be the father i've dreamt of being? it is an easy thing to fall prey to haunting questions, and it serves as brain rot for every moment of silence that leaves me clawing at my skin, trying to reap the memory of her touch. then i began to think—about nothing and everything—and it does not stop. i will be kind; unforgivingly so, and without biased judgement; like my mother never was, and i'll make her hate me for it. i will grow in leaps and bounds, not for her sake or for god's, but for mine, as it always should have been. i will drink and curse with reckless abandon and kiss who i damn well please, because in no life does she have have the power to make me something i'm not. why should i feel sorry when the tears she wept were forged by my own blood; by the childhood memories locked away to rot in my subconscious? yes, she has suffered too, but it is through clenched teeth and raw-bitten lips that i must confess this, for her suffering was born in me and grew from a seedling into a thorned flower, nourished by her hatred and mine. she'll tell me the lie of all mothers before her: that she knows best, and i'll never know joy that is not from my savior's gracious hands.

one day, when she lies not with words but in silence, under worm-filled earth and withering pastures, i'll tell her that she was right. i'll tell her, with his hand in mine, that my savior arrived with hellfire in his eyes and fury unrelenting. his tongue holds venom that would make the devil blush, but he tastes of a sinful sweetness that i've drowned in more times than i care to count.

mother you should know, my god is like no other. he has a broad chest and muscles, i attest, that are sculpted like fine marble and smooth to the test.

my god is a man who loves other men, unashamedly; in all that is true; and kisses me like real people do. and i know it sounds silly, and a bit cliché, and he'd surely make a mockery of me if ever he heard, but i love him. i love him as passionately as you she does lord above, and it is a crime in itself how much i crave him, so yes, i will burn for this—not because my mother said so or by the ancient script that foretells it, but because i promise it. i promise to let neither hell or high water deter me from that which gives me life, and i'll do so with a ring.

"you hear that mom?" i'll whisper in the dead of night, his body flushed against mine in the most delightful way; his fingers curled into my nightshirt, pulling me closer as listless mumbles fall from his parted lips. he is dead to the world amid his dream ridden stupor, but still leans into my touch when i smooth back the wild tufts of hair to kiss his forehead.

"i'm gonna marry him." part of me wishes she didn't live on the other side of the planet, just so i could rub it in her face, but i won't give her the satisfaction of seeing me again. i won't let her think she's won, because i know, and katsuki knows, that he and i are one in the same.

i do not know who i should thank for my stubbornness, be it my mother or my father, so i will thank the pain they both caused me, for it made me stronger than they ever could. no, i did not become a better person, because the scars have yet to heal from how deep they cut, and the smell of blood still lingers, and i am angrier than i once was, but i cherish my wounds. the stench of my agony has long since been subdued, and i have learned to swallow the sickness it evokes. and yes, this anger is unhealthy and i've chosen not to purge it from my mind like the weed it is, but how lucky am i to have found one whose malice rivals my own?

the tales of his glory have littered my notebooks in smudged ink. you would hate him, is scrawled messily on the last page, but i only feel giddy with excitement. you would hate him for his spite and his unapologetic behavior, and that is why he's perfect. he's everything you hate about this world, but everything i love.

so when she gets to heaven and asks the angels "why?", they'll tell her it was him who made the devil cry. him, who held me like she should have—could have, if she hadn't terrified me—and who chased the nightmarish visions of her from my weary mind with his callous palms and soft-spoken reassurances. i wish i had known him when we were young; when things were not so simple and i needed a hand to hold; but i suppose we'll have to settle for faded photographs and stories told through the bitter aroma of alcohol. that's more than enough, i muse to myself, legs hooked over his as i rest my head on his shoulder, keening softly at the gentle scrape of his nails on my scalp. his arms wind around my waist as he mutters something along the lines of "i love you", his lips curling into a smile, illuminated by the televisions glow.

so when they ask of my religion, i will think of only him. i will recall the way he looks at me, the sound of my name on his tongue, the feeling of his lips trailing between the valley of my breast; featherlight, cautious and unfitting for a man of his nature. i've written songs of praise, all dedicated to him, and if only he knew, oh how smug he would be. but i love him, i love him, i love him. and when he spins me around like a marionette, it is with overwhelming pride and joy that i tell him this, and with rose hued cheeks and bashful grumbles, he tells me the same. so mother, wherever you are, i hope you know i've found my god.

#💥.katsuki #bakugou x trans reader #bakugou x trans male reader #bakugou x male reader #katsuki bakugou x male reader #male reader insert #mha x male reader #boku no hero x reader #bakugou x you #trans reader

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residentfangirl2104 · 2 years

Note

I'm sorry I couldn't pick just one question-

City of Stars (Are you Shining Just For Me?):

2. What scene did you first put down?

3. What's your favorite line of dialogue?

13. What music did you listen to while writing and/or what music do you think should accompany reading it? (Other than city of stars lol-)

-🦀🌶️🧂

You should know i had to go digging in my google doc and my old playlists for some of these because i wrote this so long ago and my memory is just that bad

2. The first scene I put down is the chronological first scene, because I had a very specific idea about setting up the status quo of Virgil's life; the idea was I needed to explore and show exactly what his life was like before the inciting incident, aka meeting Roman, so that it can really be clear how much things change afterwards.

3. This is a really hard one, but there is a specific one that comes to mind - "I am hopelessly, irretrievably in love with you; I am in love with Virgil Arquette, in love with the Storm Weaver, in love with every version, and every part of you, and regardless of what happens from here on out, I find it difficult to imagine a world where that changes." I also really like "No one is worth losing yourself over." and "This might seem to go against everything I've told you before, but the truth is, my image is not everything to me, Virgil. You are."

13. I did have a playlist I made which I listened to while writing the fic, but I'll just mention a few specific songs here which I think really influenced the mood of the story/I would suggest listening to while reading it

City of Stars, obviously

History Hates Lovers by Oublaire, I adore this song

Photograph and I Hear A Symphony by Cody Fry

Turning Page by Sleeping At Last

Like the Movies by Laufey

So This Is Love (yes, from Cinderella) as well as The Sleeping Beauty Waltz by Tchaikovsky

When the sun loves the moon by Reinaeiry

And lastly, loads of Taylor Swift. Like, i cannot emphasize how much. A few that were in my playlist were Love Story, Champagne Problems, Illicit Affairs, The Lakes, and You Are In Love.

#Welp this is longer than expected #thanks a lot for the ask tho!#ask #city of stars #sanders sides #fanfiction

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watching-pictures-move · 3 years

Text

Move Review | White of the Eye (Cammell, 1987)

This review contains spoilers.

This movie has so many elements that I should love, but the end product left me inexplicably cold. Ostensibly an American-set giallo, White of the Eye opens with a brilliant murder sequence where a combination of bracing camera moves, high class decor and everyday objects are used to suggest the horrific violence that's barely past the edges of the screen. You see, there's a serial killer loose, but rather than the gritty urban or backwoods milieus we associate with such characters on film, the action is set in a small mining town in the Arizona desert. Our protagonist is David Keith, a sound system technician of Native American descent who becomes the chief suspect thanks to his unusual tire tracks and his inability to keep it in his pants. The movie attempts some kind of comment on Native American identity, but I'm not sure I found it entirely coherent and it probably went over my head. In an case, making literal sense is not the movie's priority.

At this point the movie becomes an unwieldy soap opera about the hero cheating on his wife and the strain on his marriage. The movie remains as visually aggressive and hallucinatory as before, yet in ways that feel entirely out of sync with the story. Perhaps this is my fault for not being as attentive as I should have been, but the combination was so disorienting that I mistook a flashback explaining how he met his wife as a "present day" scene with a character who just happened to resemble his wife. When the movie seems this drug-addled with its roving camera moves, dissolves and whatever other flourishes cross its mind, the latter felt entirely plausible. This flashback scene also shows him bonding (sort of) with another male character and hinting ever so slightly at his capacity for violence. And of course, in the third act we learn its true extent, snapping the movie back into overly horrific territory, using certain imagery that seems to subvert Cannon Films' more popular output. (Yes, this was a Cannon release.)

The problem is, the movie never really builds in a way to give that last section an appropriate tension. We supposedly get a sense of the main characters' domestic situation, but the psychedelic style has already undermined it to such an extent that the third act's reveal doesn't really feel like subversion. Perhaps I am more amenable to this kind of material in actual giallo as those movies tend to run shorter (this is nearly two hours) and manage to find the right rhythms for their kooky narratives. In contrast, this never builds the necessary momentum in its pacing and feels both too feverish and too languid at the same time. I will concede that this is perhaps intentional on the movie's part, and I did find it got good mileage out of its Arizona setting.

The desert feels almost primeval and utterly incongruous with the ultra-modern nouveau riche mansions that jut out of the landscape, and one character's reference to hunting with handguns mines a similar contrast. (Of Donald Cammell's work I'd previously seen Performance, the Mick Jagger film he co-directed with Nicolas Roeg, which has similar druggy vibes and echoes of this kind of tension in juxtaposing decadent rock star life with ruthless criminals.) The film's visual character feels at war with itself, and produces no shortage of great images. Maybe the problem is I'm too hopelessly square, but I just wish they accumulated to something more enjoyable.

#film #movie review #white of the eye #donald cammell

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iwrestlenow · 3 years

Text

Many More To Die, Chapter 12

TITLE: Many More To Die (Chapter 12)

FANDOM: Sanders Sides (Necromancer AU)

SUMMARY: While the assassin makes another attempt on Roman's life, the necromancers find help from an unexpected source--and an all too brief reunion between Logan and Roman has some disturbing results.

SHIPS: Logince (Logan/Roman), Moceit (Patton/Janus) and Dukexiety (Remus/Virgil)

WARNINGS: None really, not this time.

Told you this one would come faster. XD It's bigger than most, because the next one is gonna be a whopper--and also, the next installment will be the last! But fear not: I'm already planning a sequel.

...and tbh, I can't stop writing these adorable jerks so you'll get lots more stories outta me. :P

NOTES: This is based on the gorgeous piece of art by @gretacticdraws that can be found here. I ended up writing a ficlet for it, and then my brain got swallowed up. Breathe at me wrong, and I’ll write more…hell, who am I kidding? I’ll write more anyway because this? Is self indulgent drivel. XD

Also located at AO3 over here.

1022, A.A.

“Pass the glue?”

Logan blinked, slowly looking up from his jacket to gradually focus on Roman's face. Watching him rise from something that had swallowed his whole attention was hopelessly adorable—a thing he could never tell Logan to his face, but could never hide the smile that crept across his face when he watched Logan surface like a pearl diver.

He saw the moment Logan's face shifted, the moment he finally returned to reality. Scanning the craft supplies scattered on the riverbank around them, he located the glue pot and passed it to Roman with a curious frown.

“What are you gluing?” he asked.

Roman held up the white mask he'd selected to go with his costume for the final night of the Festival that Logan had invited him to.

“Feathers! I want to be one of those things you showed me in the graveyard—the creatures etched on the one tombstone?”

“Angels.” Logan reminded him. “You know their wings go on their back, not their face.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “I know that, Starlight. I can't exactly get a pair of wings for my costume on such short notice, though, so I...Logan?”

Roman set his mask down, scooting closer to the other boy with a cold lick of concern in his belly. Logan was staring at him with an intensity that made him want to squirm, and his face had gone completely ashen.

“What's wrong?” Roman asked, reaching for his hand. “Logan, are you all right?”

Logan blinked, drawing a trembling breath before briskly shaking his head as if to clear it.

“I—yes, I am fine. I just...” He trailed off, and that look was on Roman again.

“Why did you call me Starlight?”

Roman couldn't stop himself from frowning, confused. Gesturing to the jacket in Logan's lap, he shrugged.

“The beads you're sewing onto it—it looks like the night sky. It's—it's just a nickname, like Specs. I won't use it anymore if it bothers you.”

“No,” Logan insisted, “it is perfectly acceptable, it's just...it surprised me, that's all. Starlight is actually the name I use for the Festival. As I told you, we forsake our identities at the celebration, so we all use different names. Mine is—is Starlight.”

Roman watched Logan blink, and would have accused Logan of lying except that Logan never lied. He took things too literally, he was just...not the kind of person who did it. Not with Roman, at least. So if he said he was fine...

So why did he look like his whole world had been shaken?

“...Muse.” Roman spoke before he could think about it.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Muse.” he repeated, feeling confident about the decision. “That'll be my name for the evening. Muse.”

Logan just stared at him for a long moment before huffing, shaking his head as he scooted across the grass until he was leaning against Roman's side, shoulder pressed to Roman's arm.

“You're not required to do it. You're not part of the tribe.” Logan pointed out.

“It's your tribe, though—and I don't want to be disrespectful.” Roman insisted, reaching for the bag of feathers Logan had brought for their costume work. “Besides, I...I like it. I understand it. It's all to make the dead feel less alone, isn't it? I want to help.”

Roman focused very hard on picking the feathers he wanted to glue to his mask...and tried not to pay attention to the way Logan's head tipped to rest against his shoulder and just stayed that way for a very long time.

**********

1033, A.A.

“So that's how you did it—this is a problem.”

Roman blinked, shaking his head. He hadn't lost consciousness, he was certain of it.

...well, relatively certain.

Glancing around, Roman realized he was in his father's bedchamber, held fast by a palace guard on either side. He tried to tug free, but they held him fast, staring straight ahead with glassy, unfocused eyes and blank expressions.

“Don't bother—I've been rotating soldiers through dungeon detail for years. Nearly all of them are mine now.”

Roman's chest seized with cold, cloying horror and disbelief. He could feel warmth in the hands that held him, see their chests rising and falling with breath...

He turned to the man standing before him—salt and pepper hair and overly tanned features, with piercing blue eyes Roman was starting to realize he should have known on sight.

Colonel Mori—if only he'd remembered before this moment...

“The same curse you used on my father, I take it?” he asked, proud of how level his voice came out, clear and firm.

“Something like that.” Mori replied, idly tossing a familiar ring into the air, catching it, and repeating the action with casual thoughtlessness. “It's always been a specialty of mine—generational curses. You only have to curse a single man, and an entire bloodline or brotherhood will fall...would, at least,

if not for you and that idiot progeny of mine.”

Roman wasn't aware that he'd lunged until he had one guard's arm around his throat to hold him back. He'd actually slipped free, and found it hard to breathe until he consciously stopped trying to wrestle free of his captors.

“Logan is not an idiot.” he snarled. “He's stronger than all of us—he's the best man I have ever known.”

And just like that, he was aware of all the memories that infernal talisman had been holding back—the stolen moments, the beauty of learning new things about Logan's people...the purity of that young love that had been stolen from him.

He thought of Logan now, that lean and handsome face hardened by ten years of imprisonment...and how it opened up to him the night before, how Logan tucked against him in his sleep and clung to every touch like it would be taken away from him, just as he had when they first met...

Mori's hands were suddenly on him, gripping his chin and yanking his hair until Roman was staring directly into his eyes.

“Logan Crofter is a good man—and that is his downfall.” Mori spat as his eyes began to glow with an unholy orange light. “Good men have too many rules and too many weaknesses.”

Roman tried to shake his head, but couldn't fend off the impossible grip of the necromancer before him, the light of his gaze causing a slow, dull throb through his skull.

“Decent men have rules to keep them decent. Evil men like you have rules so they can revel in breaking them.” Roman replied flatly. “Good men don't need rules. They simply choose and act.”

The pain in his head grew, forcing Roman to close his eyes—but the light was still there, behind his lids and in his brain, turning the dull throb into a burn.

“So I'm looking forward, Colonel, to watching you face a good man with no rules—and nothing to lose.”

Mori's laughter was grating in his ears as Roman slowly began to lose the ability to think coherently.

“He has one thing, Your Highness...he has you. And I'm going to make sure he comes to find you so I can get what I want: the soul of another Lazari.”

There was some shuffling, a voice—and Roman's blood ran cold as he hung helpless in the grip of a guard and lost his hold on reality.

“Remy Somnum! Bring me Lord Janus. It's high time I added his life to my collection.”

“Yes, Master.”

********** 1023, A.A.

“You're certain this is where it is?”

Roman nodded as he finally opened the padlock on the door of the long abandoned storeroom, deeep in the bowels of the palace dungeons. “The locator spell Remus gave me works. He knows more about magic than half the court mages, even if he can't use it.”

“Picking locks as well.” Logan observed with a raised eyebrow.

Glancing over his shoulder at Logan, Roman just grinned at his expression.

“Remus didn't teach me that.” he declared, pushing the door open and ushering Logan in ahead of him. “If I'm going to be king one day, I shan't rely on anyone else to rescue me—what if I have to break free of some prison or shackles?”

Logan stepped into the room ahead of him, but immediately stopped and turned to face him, looking at Roman with blue eyes that glittered with something Roman couldn't name, something that made it hard to breathe.

It happened so fast he almost couldn't process it—Logan's hands in his tunic, the sudden feel of warmth crowding his front...

The soft, firm, smacking press of a kiss to his mouth that made his heart, and the rest of the world, stop.

For long moments, they just stared at each other, Logan seemingly reeling as much as Logan was.

“I...I am—I'm—apologies.” Logan stammered, trying to busy himself with straightening his tie instead of holding onto Roman's tunic. “I did not mean...that is to say—I just—your intellectual moments, they just—you're so—and I--”

Roman snatched up Logan's hand, pressing his lips to the back of it. He could feel Logan trembling, and Roman felt his heart tremble in sync with it.

“Me, too, Starlight.”

For a second they just stood there, Logan's hand in his, and Roman's heart...

He had never, not once in his short fourteen years of life, ever felt so tranquil or so powerful, and definitely not both at the same time.

Roman forced himself to be the strong one, releasing Logan's hand so he could shut the door and finally take proper stock of the room.

There was barely any light through the bars on the small window in the door, but Logan moved forward with purpose, locating a torch and lighting it with some spell Roman didn't recognize—one that ignited a dazzling blue-white flame that was far clearer and brighter than the golden flicker of normal torchlight.

The layer of dust covering everything in the room was so thick Roman could feel the urge to cough bubbling in his throat just from breathing the air. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and could have made it easy to mistake the space for a library save for the fact that there were very few books on any of those shelves.

“It's like some kind of storeroom.” Logan observed. “That, or...perhaps a trophy room?”

“I told you,” Roman reminded him, “this palace is full of hidden nooks and crevices—places to hide, or to hide something you don't want anyone else to find. I hardly ever notice this door, but the locator spell sure did.”

“So...who does this belong to?” Logan wondered aloud, venturing over to one of the shelving units that had a few books scattered throughout. “And if these are trophies, what are they trophies of?”

Roman wondered the same thing, so intensely it took him a moment to realize Logan was no longer by his side. Shaking himself, Roman crossed the room carefully, painfully aware of the layer of dust his feet were disturbing as he came to stand beside Logan in front of the shelf. His eyes scanned over the objects and books displayed there until...

“Here!” he suddenly blurted, reaching up to pluck a book off the shelf. “This binding matches the Tomes in the palace library.”

Passing the small, leatherbound volume to Logan, he watched as Logan ran his fingers over the cover with a strangely thoughtful look, head cocked just slightly before he opened the volume.

“Is that it?” he asked hopefully. “The geneaology?”

Logan stared at the first page, shaking his head. “No...I mean, it is one of the Tomes, the one you likely said would have the magical bloodlines of the royal family, but—Roman, this was hidden for a reason. It's one of the Forbidden Tomes.”

“What?! Weren't those lost before the fall of the Animator?”

“Affirmative...this one, however, is quite new. Old still, mind you, but maybe two hundred years old at the most.” Logan looked up at Roman, eyes wide.

“I think this volume is a reconstruction.”

That rattled around in Roman's head, untethered and incomprehensible. “Who would be old enough to be able to rewrite one of the Forbidden Tomes? And how do you know how old this book is?”

Logan just stared at it...then flipped a couple of pages before going weirdly still.

“I can...it's an incorrect description, but I can hear it. The Tomes are written in mystical dialects, languages laden with power. My power.”

He lifted his head, meeting Roman's gaze head on with an intensity that stole Roman's breath.

“The mystical dialect this book was composed in is Mairome—the language of necromancy.”

Roman couldn't get his voice to work for a long moment as Logan turned back to the Tome and began reading, eyes flicking back and forth at a speed that was vaguely dizzying, trying to consume every nuance of the page, drinking it all in.

“What...what does it say?” he finally managed to ask aloud.

Logan didn't answer for a long moment. He shut the book gently, his gaze cast downwards.

“It says,” Logan finally answered, “that King Thomas Roman I is the name of the Animator.”

“...that can't be true. That...that means...”

“It means that the king did not slay the Animator—it means your ancestor assassinated the king. It means the Necromata have a legitimate claim to the throne.”

Roman ran his hands over his face, dizzy with the onslaught of information. “Who knew this that they had to take this book from the palace library and hide it here?”

“I think I know that, too.” Logan croaked, handing the book to Roman. “Start here—you should be able to read it.”

Roman accepted the book and peered at the page. Most of the text was a blurry mess of gently glowing lines and strange symbols, but some of the words were written in clear, plain English in various parts of the page.

When he was done, he passed the book back to Logan, reeling.

“Mori...I know that name.” Roman realized. “What are these?”

“They are the True Names of the monarchy.” Logan replied. “I know the name as well—it is the name of the man who tried to kill me when we first met.”

“...you never told me that.”

“I did not know his place among the palace guard—if he was someone close to you, I feared for your safety if he knew you were aware of his crimes.”

“Corporal Mori...he's a member of the dungeon guard.” Roman murmured. “My brother and I used to sneak into the dungeons to play at adventuring when we were little—he was a new private back then, and cruel to both of us. But...Logan?”

“Yes?”

“The name in there, below Thomas Roman I. Is that the Animator's son?”

Logan swallowed thickly. “It is.”

“But...but his True Name is Crofter...that's your last name.”

“Affirmative. At least...it was. Just as Mori's name was once Thomas Roman Sanders.”

Roman couldn't speak around the sudden tightness in his throat. Instead, Logan spoke for him.

“The Animator...he's not your ancestor, Roman—he's mine.”

Then the door of the storage room opened, slamming against the pile of detritus behind it.

Roman froze. Logan, however, snatched the book and rose.

“I'll lead him away—get back to your rooms at once, and look after Virgil.”

“Logan--”

He was cut off by another abrupt kiss, this one on the cheek.

“We'll get out of this, one way or another. I swear it on the Spider's Thread.”

Then Logan was gone, diving between the legs of the figure in the doorway to lead him away from Roman's location.

********** 1033, A.A.

“Paddock.”

Patton looked up from where he was crouched beside Logan's prone, writhing body. Logan's eyes had rolled back into his head and he was muttering incoherently while he twitched and twisted with an agony Patton could only guess at.

The voice that had spoken aloud belonged to a prison mage he recognized. The man was tall, dark, and tanned. He was handsome, mostly—he always wore dark glasses that hid his eyes, so it was difficult to be sure.

“What're you doing here, Somnum?” Remus asked sharply. He was awfully fast, next to Virgil one minute and the next standing beside Janus in front of Logan's prone form so Patton could only see Master Somnum through the space between their shoulders.

“Remy—the name's Remy, you fuckin' killjoys.” the mage sighed. “Will you just move already? Patton can vouch for me.”

“I can?” He asked uncertainly. Patton's nostrils flared on reflex, trying to scent the air—and immediately felt his magic rise, all animal instinct and threat.

The smell of death, old and ripe, was on the air. Not the smell of corpses or long settled dust, but death, fresh damp grave dirt and sticky in his lungs like worms crawling.

But...

Patton turned to Virgil, crouched beside him, and put a hand on his shoulder. Virgil just looked at him, then at Remus and Remy, and nodded before focusing on his brother again.

Patton stood and came to stand next to Remus. He could feel more than hear the subsonic hiss building in the back of Janus's throat nearby, and found his gaze to reassure him before he faced the prison mage.

“He knows my True Name.” Patton admitted. “Janus can confirm it...but how?”

Remy didn't answer right away. He just stared at Patton, making him feel squirmy stomach and trembly. Breathing felt...not hard, but strange, and he wasn't sure if he liked it--

Reaching up, Remy removed his dark glasses.

“'Cause mine's Graymalkin.” he replied softly.

“What does that mean?” Virgil snapped testily. “Quoting Macbeth at each other won't--”

Patton didn't hear the rest. As far as he knew, Black Dogs and Heralds couldn't fly, but he couldn't feel the floor under his feet anymore...

...oh. Oh, he couldn't feel any of his legs anymore. The world was spinning, too—kind of like playing Statue Maker as a boy, grabbing his friends' hands and spinning, spinning, spinning before he had to stop and strike a pose--

“Patton.”

Patton blinked, and suddenly drew a deep, shuddering breath into his lungs before he started coughing. He—oh, he hadn't been breathing. That wasn't remotely good, willikers!

As he tried to get his breathing normalized, Patton found he was on the floor, being cradled in Janus's arms. His forehead was tucked against the scaled side of his neck, a lovely contrast of cool scales over warm skin and so much softer than anyone would think scales could be. As Patton calmed, he drifted, and gently rubbed his forehead against those scales, sighing at the soothing texture of their satiny surface brushing his skin, the edges gently catching in ways that sent pleasant little buzzes of sensation from his forehead to skitter over his scalp.

Finally, he lifted his head—and found Remy kneeling in front of them, staring at Patton.

His eyes were pure onyx, from sclera to pupil—solid black orbs in his head, barely glinting in the light of the room. They were the eyes of a hijacked body, a resurrection gone wrong. The owner of the body was gone, and another soul had taken its place.

A soul Patton was fairly certain he knew.

“Patton?” Janus's voice, a question.

Slowly, Patton nodded.

Remy sagged visibly in relief. “You remember...Paddy, I'm a Reaper. I can help Logan. Will you let me?”

Feeling more like himself, Patton nodded again. Without thinking, he twisted and tipped his head up to kiss Janus's cheek before he got shakily to his feet.

“Virgil, Remy's gonna help.” he announced, still watching Remy with a secret fear that this would be a dream and that he'd vanish.

“Fuck you. I don't--”

“He's my brother. Please, Virge.”

There was silence for several moments, but then Remy was moving off some indication from Virgil, and Patton twisted to watch Remy drop to his knees at Logan's side. He touched his forehead, taking his hand and watching him closely.

“Motherfucker knows the only real way to kill a Lazari, and he's using the king to do it.” Remy muttered. “Let's see...nerd's Claim is holding, that's good, but his mind won't hold up under the Baccanal...lemme see, gurl...”

Remy shut his eyes, bowing his head. As he did, Patton suddenly felt a gust of warm air touching the back of his neck, making him flinch and whip his head around.

“Easy, Sin-ammon Roll.”

Prince Remus was there, his hand a buzzing gnat in Patton's awareness as it sat on his shoulder. He was watching Patton with a look he couldn't read—his features were like Janus's, well schooled into calm lines, but his eyes were clouded with some very turbulent emotion.

“Is the prison mage really your brother?”

Patton opened his mouth to answer, but no sound was coming out. The words were all there, but they were sort of...clogging in his throat, too many coming too fast, all fighting to escape at the same time. Fortunately, Janus's arms were suddenly there again, wrapped around his waist, cradling Patton back against his chest, warm warm warm and comforting in their familiarity.

“Patton was four years old when his brother died.” Janus stepped in. “Remington Morell was not quite fourteen—essentially executed in the street. Patton told me when they were children...their mother loved the Scottish play. Quoted it all the time--'I come, Graymalkin' when Remy called for her, 'Paddock calls' when Patton would cry.”

“...but the kid died.”

“Yes, but...it's the black eyes. They indicate the presence of a Raptor.”

“Like the dinosaur?” Remus asked.

“Like a body thief—a soul that hijacks a coprse during a botched resurrection.” Janus sighed, rolling his eyes as Patton twisted his head to look up at him.

“Ohhhh, I mean—wow.”

“Lucky for me, children age in Shadow.” Remy's voice piped up. Refocusing on Logan, Patton realized his best friend wasn't writhing and muttering anymore, just...laying there, asleep. Seemingly, anyway.

“What'd you do?” he asked, gently removing himself from the circle of Janus's arms to move towards Remy as he stood.

“Guided Logan to the Loom of Memory.” he replied. “It'll protect him for a while, and let him communicate with Roman if I'm right about how those two are bound—Mori's got the king under the Baccanal.”

“Cursing him with madness?” Patton breathed, his stomach churning with horror as he covered his mouth with both hands. “That's forbidden, Remoo.”

“Yeah, well, the Animator ain't known for playing by the rules, gurl.” Remy replied with a shrug. “So burning away a man's mind, one layer at a time until he's a drooling vegetable? Totally on the table.”

Patton felt something loosen in his chest as he grinned up at the other man. “You really are Remy, aren't you?”

Remy opened his mouth, brow furrowed with confusion—then understanding filled his features and he grinned, laughing. “Ah, geez—Remoo. You started calling me that when you were two 'cause you couldn't say Remington.”

“It's the only thing I remember really well.” Patton admitted, rushing forward to fling his arms around Remy with a choked laugh that quickly melted to tears.

“Mom and Pop kept your Vigil every Festival—but I never stopped.” he giggled wetly. “Every day—I had an altar in my room...”

“I know.” Remy soothed, holding onto Patton tight and reaching up to tousle his curls in a manner that Patton didn't recognize, but still felt weirdly familiar. “I heard you. Why do you think I snuck back when I realized you were in trouble?”

Patton pressed his face into Remy's shoulder. The smell of the mage's trade clung to him, acid and alcohol and herbs, but under that was something that set of primal echoes in Patton's head of family home safe loved, loamy earth and fresh rain.

Remy held on tight, just for a few seconds, but when he pulled back Patton felt steadier than he had in a very long time.

“We need to get the Lazari outta here.” Remy instructed. “It's a long story, but I was sent here to drag Lord Scaly off for execution. Plans changed, now I'm takin' you all somewhere safe.”

“Where's that?” Virgil asked, flinching when Remus swooped in to gather Logan up into his arms before Virgil could.

“Long story, tell you when we get there. Everyone move.”

********** When Logan opened his eyes, he was home.

It was a very familiar part of his home, however—none other than his childhood bed, wrapped in a familiar pair of arms.

Lifting his head, he had to fight not to lose his composure when he saw Roman's face. His head was nestled into Logan's pillow, features slack with repose...

Then tense, a low noise of distress rumbling in his chest, vibrating against Logan and shooting straight to his marrow.

Reaching out, Logan dug his fingers in beneath Roman's ribs. Fortunately it worked: immediately, Roman woke up with a squeal that was wholly undignified, and melted immediately into giggling he promptly cut off.

“Roman, it's okay...shhhh, you are safe. It's Logan, I'm here.”

Roman stared at him with a blank, unfocused look that scared Logan—actual fear he could not deny any longer, cold and cloying and sticking to the inside of his chest. Those green eyes were glassy and unseeing...they did not know him.

Very deliberately, Logan reached for Roman's hand, meshing their fingers together. He held them up in Roman's eyeline.

“Hold on...do not let go.”

That struck a chord, bringing some focus back to Roman's eyes. After a moment that stretched into eternity, Logan felt Roman's fingers tighten around his. Roman stared at their joined hands, mouth working soundlessly...

“I...never have.” Roman finally replied. “I never will.”

Logan's throat closed up, his eyes burning.

“Swear it on the Spider's Thread?” He hated how small his voice sounded, how desperate.

Recognition finally sparked in Roman's eyes.

“...Starlight.”

Logan lost control then, flinging himself into Roman's arms. Roman let himself be bowled over onto his back, let Logan stretch out atop his body, press his face into the curve of Roman's neck, and just held on tight as Logan wept for the first time in ten years. Deep, heaving, wretched sobs that Roman soothed him through, a hand running over his back, Roman's deep and beautiful voice murmuring soothing nonsense directly into his ear.

Time passed. The slow, steady rhythm of Roman's fingers gradually smoothed the jagged edges until he could reach out and touch them without getting cut open again.

“Did you know?” Logan finally asked, lifting his head to meet Roman's gaze.

Roman stared back up at him, uncomprehending as his fingers drifted up to caress Logan's cheek. Logan found himself unable to resist leaning into the tender touch.

“Did I know what?”

“That day by the river—before the Festival. Did you know that you changed my True Name.”

“...not until we found the Tome. I...suspected something happened, but wasn't sure until we read about your grandfather.”

“What about later? When you came to me in my cell and gave me my new Name?”

“I...I'm not sure. I know I wasn't supposed to remember what you were to me, but...”

But he had. Reaching up to catch the hand Roman still had pressed to his cheek, Logan felt like he understood. Not really, but...but that was the point.

Roman never should have remembered enough to care about Logan, yet he'd come to find him, and helped him in his moment of need.

“I think,” Logan began hesitantly, “that it is as Grandpap often says. The stuff of Shadow—the things we are not allowed to know.”

Roman frowned pensively. His brow furrowed with it, and Logan let himself surrender to the temptation of bowing his head and kissing that line away.

“Miracles.” Roman murmured. “Shadow brought to the light.”

Logan made a sound of affirmation, nose brushing along Roman's hairline.

“Or an outsider brought to the Loom of Memory.”

Roman shifted under him, seeking out Logan's gaze with wide, curious green eyes.

“Is that where we are?” he asked, awestruck.

Logan nodded, running his fingers through Roman's hair.

“It is...and time moves differently here.” he explained, mouth hovering over Roman's.

Time Logan was going to take...because if Logan was Lazari, that meant he had power. If he was descended from the Animator, the First and most powerful, he had more power still. If he was bound, soul to soul, to the ruler of all the Kingdoms, Logan had power beyond magic.

He had all the power, maybe more, of his ancestor. Power enough to corrupt.

So he allowed it to corrupt him. He let himself be ruthlessly selfish.

He was not going to allow Roman to be taken from him again.

Never again.

********** He expected to feel a warm, strong pair of arms around him when he rose from a deep and restful slumber...but instead, his groggy mind was rattled by voices.

“So you've just been...what? Fooling him into thinking you were zombified? That's hot, don't get me wrong, but I don't see how he'd buy it.”

“Gurl, greedy men are dumber than a bag of hair—ain't that right, Emi?”

“Eh—yes, sweetheart. Basically, anyway. It takes a great deal of focus and power to control as many dead as Mori currently is.”

“That's why our people don't normally do it—raising a corpse is way different from resurrecting someone to life. Grandpap told Logan off for even suggesting the raising of more than two corpses at the same time. It's doable, but I think five is the limit before you risk madness under the weight of all those deaths.”

“So these are really zombies? Not people he resurrected? Gosh, that's just...scary.”

“Easy, baby brother—none of 'em are coming the fuck near you. That's why I got a heart-healer on my side...they don't tell people that they study necromancy on the side, y'know.”

“Remy, please. We don't...er...well, we don't study all of necromancy. Just necromatic theory—its relation to the mind. The function of the Cleansing, body theft, the psychological toll of magic...that's sort of how Remy and I met. I'm a bit of a bookworm...”

“Shhhh, he's waking up!”

Finally opening his eyes, he moved to sit up, reaching, fumbling until strong fingers caught his.

“It's okay, Loganberry—you're fine.”

“Logan—where is he?”

That was the moment he froze, his question coming out...strange. Deep, but not deep enough, well enunciated but too stiff.

“Logan?”

That was his voice...but it wasn't his voice saying Logan's name.

“...something's wrong.”

He looked around in confusion. Something was wrong with his eyes, the world fuzzy and haloed in blurs of color. He could recognize Remus only from the color of his tunic and the sound of his voice.

“Remus? What's happening?”

“Hold on—Virgil, his glasses.”

He didn't wear glasses, what the--

Then a pair was being set on his face, and the world suddenly came into painful focus. He was laying on a low couch in one of the palace offices. Remy and the heart-healer, Emile Picani, stood off to one side. Virgil and Remus knelt by his side now, with Janus and Patton wrapped around each other by the window.

Trembling, he lifted his hands in front of his face.

Pale. Slim. Long, lean fingers that had run through his hair so greedily, touched him so tenderly, blunt nails scoring skin in the depths of his mind...

“...Roman?”

Lowering Logan's hands—now his hands—Roman looked into his twin brother's eyes, into the face that he shared with him.

Or had at the start of the day.

“Please tell me that my brother did not just swap bodies with the fucking king?” Virgil squeaked, looking visibly ill as he swallowed thickly.

Roman, wearing Logan's skin, nodded slowly.

“I think he did,” Roman replied, “and in doing so...he just gave Mori exactly what he wanted.”

#necromancer au #sanders sides #fanfic #fic #logan sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #ts creativity #ts dark creativity #ts morality #ts deceit #ts anxiety #ts logic #my name is liz and i swear to god i will fic again #this is all the artist's fault i'm just the hapless writer that stumbled across it

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inevitably-johnlocked · 6 years

Note

LOVE YOUR BLOG!

Hi Nonny!!

Thank you! I’m glad you’re enjoying my blog!!! You’re in luck, because I LOVE LOVE LOVE slow burn fics!!! First, let me direct you to this post here, where I have a list of Platonics, Fluff, and Bedsharing fics! You also might enjoy my MONSTROUS Pining Sherlock Fic Rec List, because it’s also one of my all-time fave tropes. And my Epistolary / Texting / Letters Fic Recs! (there, I think I got all of the ones I was thinking of)

Next, you can check out ALL my fic recs on this masterpage here, in case I missed any! It’s updated every time the third reblog of the post hits my dash! :)

Finally, I shall take this opportunity to share one of the two last sections I have collected on my offline document of the fluff fics :) (I’ll share the last one when someone unknowingly brings it up, LOL. ‘Cause I’m a jerk like that, LOL.)

You’re lucky that I LOVE SLOW BURN FICS, especially fluffy ones (I also have an angst slow burn list but I’ll save that for one of the MANY angst requests I got!) HERE WE ARE! This is byfar not all I have, but just currently all I have sorted so far! I have SO MANY and am still working through my bookmarks, LOL! Hope you enjoy!

LOVE CONFESSIONS / SLOW BURN / DEVELOPING REL.

New Year, New Beginning by DaisyFairy (T, 810 w. || New Year’s Eve, John POV, Post S4, Friends to Lovers) – New Year at a crime scene and John makes a decision.

Ex by Itsallfine (T, 1,248 w. || Love Confessions, Coming Out, Exes, First Kiss) – One night, in the midst of their post-case high and on the cusp of something more, John and Sherlock run into John’s ex. His ex-boyfriend.

There’s Always Three of Us by Itsallfine (T, 1,765 w. || Post-S4, Parentlock, Love Declarations, First Kiss, Anniversary, S4 Fix it Fic, Fluff) – Sherlock takes John and Rosie out to Angelo’s and gets a chance to correct the biggest mistake of his life.

Want by siennna (T, 1,806 w. || Fluff, Pining, First Kiss, POV Sherlock, Requited, Second Person POV) – When John speaks, you hear more than words. You hear the rise and fall of his tone, the comfortable quake of his laughter, the warm pauses of silence in between. When John laughs, there are stars glittering on his tongue and galaxies resting just behind his teeth, and you wish you could press your lips there and burrow into the warm sound. Part 6 of sienna’s favourites

The Marriage Proposal Negotiation by Goddess_of_the_Night (G, 2,161 w. || Dev. Rel., Possessive Sherlock, Insecure Sherlock, Fluff, First Kiss, Post Mary) – Sherlock hasn’t ever really done anything the traditional way, so of course it wouldn’t bother him to propose to John even though they’re not even dating. And the fact that John is already on a date with someone else when he decides to do it? Tedious.

Moonlight by ConsultingPurplePants (E, 2,213 w. || First Time, Scars, Camping, Sherlock’s Bum) – Sherlock is standing near the door, wearing, for what John thinks may be the first time in their acquaintance, jeans and a jumper. John drags his eyes away from the way the jeans cling to Sherlock’s just-muscled-enough legs to notice that Sherlock is wearing his own backpack, and is also carrying a collapsed tent. John’s jaw drops open. Is he about to go camping with Sherlock Holmes!?

The Case of the Made-Up Case by DoubleNegative (T, 2,394 || Fake Relationship, Clubbing, First Kiss, For Science) - Sherlock takes John to a club. For a “case.” Yes, John, a case. Part 1 of The (Secret) Adventures of Sherlock Holmes

No Strings Attached by Elster (G, 2,714 w. || Magical Realism, Fairy Tales, Love Confessions, Fae/Faeries) – To save John from being spirited away Under the Hill, Sherlock challenges the fairy queen to a fiddle contest.

What He’s Like by magikspell (E, 2,919 w. || Love Confessions, Fluff, First Time, Inexperienced Sherlock) – Realistic first time. They love each other so much.

Right Foot Red by Irrevocably_Sherlocked (E, 3,089 w. || First Time, Board Games, Frottage, Masturbation, Frottage, PWP) – …ok, it’s juvenile, but at least it’s a game where touching is allowed. And if something more were to happen, well, John can’t say he’d be too upset about that. “What are the rules of this game?” Sherlock asks, the disdain evident on the word ‘game’. “I spin, you do as I say.” John thinks he sees a slight widening of those pale grey eyes at that, just for a fraction of a second, before it is shut down. Oh, this is interesting, he thinks.

Affirmation by jamlockk (E, 3,096 w. || First Time, Dev. Rel., PWP, Love Declarations, Emotional Sherlock, Comforting John, Gross Fluff) – “Sunlight dappled John’s skin, casting a glow across his spreadeagled form as he dozed among the rumpled sheets. Sherlock knew the expression on his face was hopelessly soft but for once did not care about showing his true feelings so openly. He simply stood there, in the doorway, gazing at the impossibly beautiful man currently snuffling softly in his slumber.” Part 8 of All the ways we love

It Wasn’t Just the Mistletoe by Irrevocably_Sherlocked (E, 3,593 w. || Christmas Fluff, Mistletoe, First Kiss / Time, Frottage, Masturbation) – Sherlock and John just stood there, seemingly frozen. Sherlock was desperately trying to think of a way out of this. There was no way he could kiss John, even a small kiss, and not have him know immediately how he felt. Sherlock could lie, and fake and sham, but there was no way he could hide this.

Christmas at Holmes Cottage by johnlockedstarkid (G, 4,295 w. || Christmas, Fake Relationship, Love Confessions, Holmes Family, Pining, Kisses, Fluff, Allusions to Mystrade) – Sherlock doesn’t want to have to deal with his mother’s wishes for him to find a partner when he goes to visit them for Christmas, so asks John to pose as his boyfriend. Little does he know he’s not the only one who wishes that the relationship could be real.

Forty-four by jamlockk (E, 4,415 w. || John’s Birthday, Fluff, PWP) – John turns forty-four, gets some advice and the best birthday present he could’ve ever hoped for.

How Will I Know? by eragon19 (E, 4,895 w. || Pining, Love Confessions, POV Sherlock, Fluff, Sherlock’s Imagination, Papa Lestrade) – Here was the problem: Sherlock Holmes was completely and irrevocably in love with John Watson, and he had absolutely no idea how to tell him.

Sociopathy and Other Fibs by kinklock (M, 5,314 w. || 5+1, Miscommunication, Humour, Friends to Lovers, Post S3, Love Confessions) – Five times John called Sherlock out, and one time Sherlock returned the favour.

Tease You Till You Come by phoenix089 (E, 6,090 w. || First Time, Clueless Sherlock, Texting) – Initially, Sherlock was rather put out by John’s lack of presence on the case. But then he starts to recieve pictures, several of them, of an unexpected nature. The case is forgotten rather quickly after that.

Closeted by sussexbound (T, 6,115 w. || Love Confession, First Kiss, Games) – Sherlock and John get trapped in a closet while on a case. Some revelations are made while they play a game to pass the time. Part 1 of Intimacy

Naked by sussexbound (E, 6,166 w. || Fluff, Frottage, Love Declarations, First Time, Intimacy) – This is the sequel to Closeted and MUST be read. It’s so good! Sherlock is soft and clueless and John is just John. Part 2 of Intimacy

Onomatopoeia by aquabelacqua (M, 6,904 w. || First Time/Kiss, Frottage, Dirty Talk, Domestics, Word Kink) – Something is the matter with John. Sherlock is determined to figure out what it is. Mark his words.

What Meets the Eye by worldaccordingtofangirls (M, 8,251 w. || Amnesia, Fluff) – Amnesia is just another case to solve. Piece together unfamiliar faces, reconstruct the old identity, the lost reality. A challenge that Sherlock could even enjoy. He can read people like books. The man with the silver hair is his boss. The tottering old woman, his landlady. The girl with the worried look in her eyes…infatuated. And as for John Watson? His husband. Obviously.

The Thin Line by Odamaki (M, 10,809 w. || Virgin Sherlock, Awkwardness, Confessions, First Times, Anal) – John swallows. Keeps his eyes on Sherlock. Begs him not to ruin him.Sherlock leans forward over the witness box ever-so slightly, “I was distracted,” he informs the court, “by my partner, John Watson.”

Iris by slashscribe (E, 11,948 w. | Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Post-S3) – Sherlock does his best to make John happy when John comes back to 221B with his new baby after the events of Season 3, but Sherlock has a track record of getting things wrong in this area. This story is an exploration of their gradual shift from friends to lovers, told from Sherlock’s perspective, full of a lot of pining and lack of emotional awareness.

Speaker for the Bees by antietamfalls (M, 14,649 w. || Deaf Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Sign Language) – It isn’t always easy assisting a deaf detective. Luckily for John, they make a pretty good team.

A Silver Sixpence by doodle (E , 16,400 w. || LIVEJOURNAL || Fake Relationship, Fake Marriage, Case Fic, ) - John and Sherlock have to get married for a case, and learn some things about each other. I LOVE LOVE LOVE this story, though it’s on LJ.

At the Edge of Desire by philalethia (E, 16,375 w. || Post S3, Pining, Arse Worship, Humour, First Kiss / TIme, Sexual Fantasy, Awkwardness) – While helping John move back in to the flat, Sherlock discovers a strap-on among John’s things. He finds the discovery considerably difficult to move past.

The Effect of Memory by testosterone_tea (E, 6,430 || Praise Kink, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Smut, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Confused Sherlock) – John has temporary amnesia coming off of anaesthesia after an operation and not only does he not recognize Sherlock, he starts flirting with him! After John recovers, he doesn’t remember the incident at all. But Sherlock does. Confusion ensues.

Tap by doctorcaseyholmes (G, 896w || Fluff, Morse Code) – Sherlock finds an unobtrusive way to let out his feelings for John.

A Need To Know Basis by mattsloved1 (G, 934 w. || Humour, Romance) – As the cab door shut firmly, the DI had yelled out they were to make an appearance at Scotland Yard the next day. It was while John watched London pass by that it happened.

BBCSH ‘How To Save A Life’ by tigersilver (T, 2,784 w. || First Kiss, Angsty Schmoop, Requited Love) – Pining, requited, and unabated spates of ‘first kiss’ fluff. Post Mary, AU, mildly cracky. John lays a smooch on Sherlock’s nape in passing. The world does that thing it does when it wobbles and Sherlock practically falls off his own pins. Part 1 of 'How To…’

A Bit of Indulgence by beltainefaerie (NR | 3,364 w. || Fake/Pretend Relationship, Developing Relationship, Love Declarations) - A case leads John and Sherlock to fake being boyfriends and John runs into an old acquaintance.

Once is Enough by Jominerva for inkandsoul (T, 3,030 w. || Love Confessions, Domestic Fluff, Whump) – Just as the earth rises to meet the sun at every mountain crest, John reaches out for Sherlock and takes his hand in his own.“Tell me it won’t end like this,” he says, blue eyes holding grey while he laces their fingers together. Sherlock lets out a shaky laugh and shakes his head. “I wish I could.”

A Lifetime Together by LondonGypsy (M, 8,886 w. || Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Falling in Love, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Pining Idiots, Alternating POVs, Domestics, Retirement) – John and Sherlock falling in love.

The Newlywed Game: Johnlock Edition by patternofdefiance (E, 9,020 w. || Fake Relationship, Fake Marriage, Friends to Lovers, Humour, Romance, Smut, Case Fic, Self-Esteem Issues) – John and Sherlock pretend to be married in order to be contestants in a Newlywed Game. Of course it’s for a case. Of course it doesn’t stay that way. Part 8 of I Blame Tumblr

Merlot by Itsallfine (E, 14,844 w. || Christmas, Pining Sherlock, Wine, Slow Burn, First Kiss / Time, Love Confessions, Wine, Holmes Family) – Sherlock and John work toward becoming something more as they prepare to host the Holmes parents at 221B for the holidays. Part of 25 Days of Fic-Mas 2015.

Twelfth Night by yourdykeinshiningarmor (E, 15,139 w. || Friends to Lovers, Fake Rel., Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining) - John is invited to his aunt’s Twelfth Night ball. Sherlock offers to attend with him as a friendly face among strangers, but John’s family force him to address his true feelings for Sherlock. [[this one is cute]]

About Sleep and Coffee and the Existence of Fate by Atiki (E, 17,426 w. || Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Humour, 5+1) – Naturally, John was startled when suddenly the ultimate solution occurred to him: Marriage. This was, of course, a bit of a fundamental problem rather than an actual solution. One didn’t simply use the words “Sherlock” and “marriage” within the same sentence. Not even in a hypothetical context. Five times John kind of wanted to propose to Sherlock, and one time he didn’t have to.

Once More, With Feeling by cellard00rs (T, 21,178 w. || John’s Family, Fake Relationship, Romance, Fluff, Humour) – To put off his meddlesome, matchmaking mother, John convinces Sherlock to play the role of his significant other. Unparalleled awkwardness ensues.

The Norwood Love Builders by flawedamythyst (T, 47,798 w. || Fake Relationship, Slow Burn, Post TRF Angst) – Sherlock and John go undercover to solve the murder of Joanna Oldacre, but things are complicated by the many feelings John has been repressing in the wake of Sherlock’s faked death and return.

No Good Without You by textsandscones (T, 4021 w. || Case Fic, Busking, Violins, Fluff) – A diverting new case surrounding musicians and stolen instruments captures Sherlock’s attention, the consequences of which lead both detective and doctor to see one another in a different light. Part 1 of Prompt Fills

The Importance of Torn Papers by MyLittleCornerOfSherlock (G, 2427 w || Pre-Slash, Love Declarations, Fluff) – Little things make a big difference, even little notes of thanks. Small reminders to show he cares.

Laid Bare by esplanade (T, 6529 w. || Romance, Fluff, Pining, Angst) – “I suppose it comes as no surprise that I always rather detested grand romantic gestures. They struck me as unnecessary and contrived, feeble attempts at desperately holding together relationships, most of which should have been allowed to fall apart.”

Law of Reciprocals by thequeergiraffe (T, 4377 w. || Fluff, Angst) – “Law of Reciprocals, is it? You’ve saved my life enough times. I figure, turnabout’s fair play.” Sherlock finds ways to reciprocate his appreciation of John.

Pleasure to Burn by scullyseviltwin (E, 17,863 w. || Firefighter AU, Firefighter John / Arson Investigator Sherlock, Slow Burn, Pining, Case Fic-ish) – “If you’d kindly stop knocking about in there and destroying all of my evidence, it would be most appreciated!” John groaned and for a moment rested his head against the side of the truck. Of course he was the only captain left on the scene, which meant he would have to be the one to deal with the arson investigator.

A Life Well-Lived by Kate_Lear (E, 20,121 w. || Original Male Character, Sherlock Woos John, Jealous Sherlock, Reluctant Bi-John) – John got scared off men by an abusive past relationship. Sherlock has to try and woo him while not scaring him off with protective possessive rage.

“finally kiss the bloody idiot” by Salambo06 (E, 29,812 w. || Mutual Pining, Declarations of Love, First Kiss / Time, Angst, Misunderstandings, Fantasies POV John) – Inspired by a fic idea on tumblr : “John and Sherlock know the Yard has a pool going for when they’re finally going to get together. It’s been running forever, and it’s worth thousands of pounds. It’s all fun and games, hahaha, until they find out Lestrade is in dire financial straits (dog needs emergency surgery, he’s putting his kid through gymnastics training, I don’t know, something), and they decide to fake a relationship to win the pool for him. Sherlock figures out the day and way that Lestrade thinks it’s going to happen, and they act it out. It’s all for a good cause, fake relationship style, until it’s not.” Part 1 of The Pool

Hitting the Water at Sixty Miles an Hour by what_alchemy (E, 30,568 w. || Fake Rel., Roadtrips, Slow Burn) – “You love your mother, Sherlock?” John watched the muscles in Sherlock’s jaw jump. He nodded in one sharp jerk.“Then we’re going to her party and making her happy.” John let out a resigned sigh. “As a ruddy couple, you bastard.”

A Study In Auto-Signatures, Sniper Dolphins, and Sex Holidays by cwb (E, 32,690 w. || Case Fic, Post S3, Evil Mary, Dev. Rel., Honeymoon, Epistolary, Bottomlock, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Secret Agents, BAMF!John) – John and Mary go on their sex holiday, and Sherlock is grumpy and pining about it. Part 1 of HOT DOLPHIN SEX

Bedtime Stories by Liketheriver (M, 34,388 w. || Emotional H/C, Romance, Angst & Humour, Bed Sharing, John First Person, TRF, John Whump) – John’s POV during Season 2 and beyond when Sherlock takes up semi-permanent residence in his bed. A collection of codas and missing scenes wrapped up into one long fic and topped with a bow that takes the story beyond Reichenbach and into happy territory once more. Part 1 of Bedtime Universe

LHR-HNL by scullyseviltwin (E, 35,066 w. || Hawaiian Vacation, Post-TRF, Friends To Lovers, Slow Burn, Just Talk Already, Drinking, Mutual Pining) – In need of an endangered flora sample, Sherlock and John must make a trip to an unexpected destination.

once upon a time by darcylindbergh (M, 6,501 w. || Fluff and Angst, First Kiss / Time, Love Declarations, Christmas) – It starts with a wish. In the beginning, John comes home. Part 1 of things fairy tales are made of

The Newlywed Game: Johnlock Edition by patternofdefiance (E, 9020 w. || Fake Rel., Friends to Lovers, Humour, Romance, Smut) – What it says on the tin: John and Sherlock pretend to be married in order to be contestants in a Newlywed Game. Of course it’s for a case. Of course it doesn’t stay that way. Part 8 of I Blame Tumblr

Turbulence in the Sky by esplanade (T, Fluff, Pining, Anxious Sherlock, Love Confessions) – “But some things needed to stay secret. Or at least, that was what he told himself every time he lost his nerve.”

You fit me, Sherlock Holmes by orphan_account (G, 10,077 w. || Fluff, Slow Burn, Idiots in Love, Experiments) – An unfortunate series of events leads to John accepting being a part of Sherlock’s study in physical intimacy. As the days pass by, John realizes he might be in for more than he bargained for. He doesn’t entirely mind.

Bread and Wine and Curry Once a Week by cwb (E, 8737 w. || Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Stroppy Sherlock, Love Letters, POV John) – Sherlock asks John for relationship advice. Little does he know that it’s him that Sherlock is in love with.

Correspondence by Cleo2010 (T, 8,031 w. || Letters, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Pining) – Sherlock’s been spirited away on a case for Mycroft. Part of the deal was that he and John could communicate via letter until the case was completed. Maybe the cliche is true, absence does make the heart grow fonder. Or perhaps something is growing on the feet in the fridge.Read their letters month by month. Written after series one.

Turn the key, and come home by TooManyChoices (M, 2,718 w. || Angst/Humour, First Time/Kiss, Happy Ending) – Sherlock and John have been dancing around what’s between them for years. Will John return to Baker Street, and if so, will things ever be the same?

Overture by Kate_Lear for fengirl88 (M, 4,435 w. || Friends to Lovers, First Time) – A short snippet on how John and Sherlock might have got together.

Acceptable Behaviour by bbcatemysoul (M, 3449 w. || Fluff, Dev. Rel., Miscommunication, First Time) – Sherlock isn’t really sure why John wants to shag him, but he’s certain that if he’s careful to behave properly about it, John can be persuaded to keep doing it. In other news, John is a good boyfriend and Sherlock is an idiot.

First Night Out by verityburns (M, 3251 w. || Romance, Christmas, Dev. Rel.) – As John recovers from the effects of a brutal kidnapping, he and Sherlock attend the Yarders’ Christmas Party. There are… developments on the dance floor…

Confessions by crimsonwinter (T, 4711 w. || Love Confessions, Fluff) – John and Sherlock finally confess their love for each other.

that thing you like by misspamela (E, 7165 w. || Holmes Family, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers) – “Happy Christmas, etc. etc.” Sherlock and John go to the Holmes’ for Christmas, and everyone thinks they’re together.

Their Great Reward by BeautifulFiction (T, 10,095 w. || UST, First Kiss, Fluff) – Boxing day, in John’s opinions, is the worst day of the year. Christmas is over, the tree is wilting and stripped of gifts, and there’s a week of dead-time until the clean slate of the new year. However the combination of a blizzard, a power-cut and Sherlock might just make it a day to remember.

Matters of National Security by mistyzeo (E, 8465 w. || Jealous Sherlock, First Time, RST, Idiots in Love, Frottage) – John starts dating a male client of Sherlock’s, and Sherlock can’t figure out why he’s so incensed about it.

Paparazzi by SilentAuror (E, 10,543 w. || Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Post S3) – John moves back into 221B Baker Street after his marriage falls apart and the paparazzi won’t leave him and Sherlock alone about the status of their supposed relationship. Sherlock, of course, never denies it, until one day he does…

At the Heart of it All by SilentAuror (E, 19,812 w. || Virgin Sherlock, Post S3, POV John, Domestics, First Time, Kissing, Romance) – John has been back at Baker Street for four months now and thinks it’s about time they had the Talk to see whether or not they could be more than friends. Sherlock has a lot of uncertainty about this concept for multiple reasons. Unabashed romance.

Hallowed Eve by EventHorizon (T, 14,750 w. || First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Halloween) – It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to let Sherlock choose the costumes for Halloween, but John never considered himself the smartest man in the room, anyway.

Once More, With Feeling by cellard00rs (T, 21,178 w. || Humour, Romance, Fluff, Fake Rel.) - To put off his meddlesome, matchmaking mother, John convinces Sherlock to play the role of his significant other. Unparalleled awkwardness ensues. [[nice amount of fluff and pining!]]

Brief Conversations with the Woman by May_Shepard (E, 21,906 w. || Pining, Love Fairy Irene, Filler Fic, UST/URT, Drug Use, Clueless Sherlock, Relationship Advice, Angst w/ Happy Ending) – Sherlock has a puzzle to solve, and his name is John Watson.

Tomorrow’s Song by agirlsname (M, 24,645 w. || Post-TRF, POV Sherlock, Angst with a Happy Ending, Virgin / Repressed Sherlock, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Pining) – How can he think a relationship with me would be a good idea? I am the sort of person to take a break from my life and when I come back after two years, I expect to find it exactly as I left it. In reality I find it shattered to pieces. (I actually equate you with my life. When did I start doing that?)

State of Flux by Atiki (E, 24,655 w. || Sherlock POV, Slow Burn, First Kiss/Time, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Cuddles and Snuggles, Awkwardness, Insecure/Virgin Sherlock, Romance) – John’s marriage is over and he is finally back home (i.e. at Baker Street, where he belongs). Sherlock is awfully insecure and John is awfully hesitant, and they’re both awkward idiots, of course, but they figure it out. Many First Times happen.

Don’t Leave Anything Out by lookupkate (E, 27,422w. || Epistolary, Falling in Love, Misunderstandings, Alternate First Meeting) – The first letter John writes home from Afghanistan is meant to go to a woman he went on only one date with. How it ends up in Sherlock’s hands is completely innocent. What happens next is not. What do you do when you find out the person you’re in love with has been lying about something as monumental as who they are? What do you do when you’re the one who lied? How on earth do you put the pieces back together?

Hitting the Water at Sixty Miles an Hour by what_alchemy (E, 30,568 w. || Road Trips, Fake Rel., Family) “You love your mother, Sherlock?”John watched the muscles in Sherlock’s jaw jump. He nodded in one sharp jerk. “Then we’re going to her party and making her happy.” John let out a resigned sigh. “As a ruddy couple, you bastard.” (FAVE!)

The Sum of His Parts by CommonNonsense (T, 4,311 w. || Body Worship, First Kiss / Time) – There are eleven major organ systems in the human body. Sherlock knows about all of them to some degree, but none fascinate him as much as the ones that make up John Watson.

The Detective and the Pin-Up by XistentialAngst (T, 15,683 w. || Romance, Humour, First Time/Kiss) – Sally Donovan discovers an old secret John Watson considered long buried - a ten-year old “Men of the Armed Forces” calendar, which has John as a very enticing pin-up for August. The image of John might just change the way everyone sees the unassuming sidekick, even Sherlock Holmes.

Unwasted by patternofdefiance (E, 8,966 w. || First Time, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Dev. Rel. Smut) – John finds it three months after he’s moved back.He’s on the hunt for something to make for dinner, is scrounging through the cupboards, when he happens upon the graveyard of pasta boxes Sherlock still seems to create when left to his own devices. Behind seven boxes of pasta, all almost completely empty, is a dark-glassed bottle, with a paler coat of dust. It’s unopened. John’s face falls slack when he sees it, instantly recognises it, and for a long moment he just stands and looks at it.

Wars We Fought, Things We’re Not by blueink3 (M, 55,204 w. || Parentlock, Fluff & Angst, Kidnapping, Whump, Post-TAB, UST, Slow Burn, Couple for a Case) – Five months after John’s world has fallen apart, Mycroft sends the consulting detective and his doctor on a case that neither is prepared for.

The Case of the Vanishing Pants by SwissMiss (E, 44,025 w. || Post-TRF, Case Fic, UST, Homophobia, Friends to Lovers) – Five times John and Sherlock lost their pants in the course of a case.

Anytime by SilentAuror (E, 17,995 w. || UST, Porn With Feels, POV Sherlock, Romance, UST/URT, Happy Ending, Drunken Endeavors) – Sherlock blinks and attempts to focus. There is a little too much vodka in his veins at the moment and it’s having an unfortunate effect on his brain and retinas both. There are two Johns sitting across from him, and both of them are frowning at him.“You’re drunk,” the Johns tell him. Sherlock blinks some more. “Says the man with Mrs Hudson’s doily on his head.”

John Watson doesn’t have a Boyfriend by naughtyspirit (E, 18,932 w. || UST / URT, Fluff & Smut, Voyeurism, Masturbation) – John’s date has gone very well. Sherlock requires tea. John wishes he hadn’t resolved that their relationship was strictly hands off and isn’t about to address it.Unless he has to. Smut, fluff and shower time for a naked John Watson.

Just a Kiss by emmagrant01 (E, 19,695 w. || Case Fic, 5+1, For a Case) – Five times John and Sherlock kissed because of a case and one time they kissed for real. (Chapter 7 is the one you want :D)

You Can Imagine the Christmas Dinners by ardenteurophile (T, 23,584 w. || Humour, Romance, Drama, Fluff & Angst) Sherlock takes John along for Christmas dinner with Mycroft and Mummy (And “Anthea”, too). Over the course of the evening, John realises that everyone in the room - apart from him - seems to think that he and Sherlock are a couple. Part 2 of Xmas Dinners Verse (I LOVE THIS ONE)

Bedroom Tales by Junejuly15 (M, 49,950 w. || Friends to Lovers, Through the Years, H/C, Military Kink, First Kiss / Time, Romance, Insecure Sherlock, Voyeurism, Post-TRF, Ficlets, Fluff and Angst, Fix-It Fics) – Bedroom Tales is a collection of John and Sherlock ficletsThey are set at various stages of their relationship and are in no particular order. Some are fluffy, some sexy, some angsty, there is hurt and comfort, romance and love. What unites them is that they all play in a bedroom, but not necessarily the one in 221B.

John Watson’s Twelve Days of Christmas by earlgreytea68 (M, 53,464 w. || Christmas, Holmes Family, Fake Relationship, Alternate First Meeting, Falling in Love, Fluff and Angst, Hardcore Pining) – It’s the holiday season. John Watson needs money. Sherlock Holmes needs something else.

Uphill by scullyseviltwin (E, 77,750 w. || Olympics AU || Sherlock POV, Skier!Sherlock / Medic!John, Rivalry, 2014 Olympics, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is striving for gold in this, his fourth and final Olympics as a downhill Alpine racer.

Definitions by siennna (T, 101,528 w. || Dev. Rel., Pining, Fluff and Romance, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Cuddles) – Sherlock’s journey in defining his flat mate and stumbling through the muddled world of emotion.{{This feels complete; the chapter count is listed as ? but I feel like it is done}}

between each beat are words unsaid by darcylindbergh, hudders-and-hiddles (T, 107,998 w. || Epistolary, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Angst, Happy Ending) – On their wedding night, John and Sherlock gift each other with the things they each said when the other could not hear, the things they each put down where the other could not see: a collection of writings that illustrate the way their love for one another has grown over the years. Part 1 of between each beat

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #fluff fics #slow burn #GIVE ME ALL THE BURN #Anonymous

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