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bloodlust-1 · 6 months

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.·:*¨ Night Affairs ¨*:·.

Astarion x fem Tav — Explicit 18+

Summary: Oops! Tav accidentally ate a mushroom that causes her to completely lose her mind. Astarion finds her in this state and enjoy each other’s company, A little too much.

T/W: smut!

Notes: this is Pre- Astarion telling Tav his feelings for her. Also, this takes place in the under dark! Happy reading~

Tav’s body felt a subtle change that began to take hold on her. At first, she felt a gentle warmth spreading through her veins, accompanied by a tingling sensation that danced across her skin. Colors seemed to intensify, becoming more vivid and vibrant with every passing moment. Gods, she was feeling the consequences of mistaking a mushroom for something safely edible. Damn it, these mushrooms in the under dark are all confusing to her. How was she supposed to know it’d make her delusional?

It was already time for everyone to settle in their tents. Tav would have been trying to catch some Z’s like everyone else, but As time passed, Tav’s perception of reality became distorted. The world around her transformed into a kaleidoscope of swirling patterns and shifting shapes. Sounds became amplified, echoing through her ears with an otherworldly clarity. Her senses were heightened to an extraordinary degree.

She wondered outside her tent, away from the camp unknowingly, and stumbled her way around the underdark. It was beautiful with its luminous plants of all kinds. Tav’s thoughts took on a dreamlike quality as her mind wandered through uncharted territories. She experienced a profound sense of euphoria and introspection, as if she had been granted access to hidden realms of consciousness. Time lost its meaning as minutes stretched into hours and hours into what felt like an eternity.

From a short distance sat Astarion, admiring the access he had to life again. He wouldn’t admit it, but he loved the adventure away from home no matter how much he missed Baldurs Gate. He was in deep thought about his situation until he heard dragging noises. He reached for his knife as he saw Tav, clumsily dragging her feet around. Her eyes were widened, almost sparkling from reflections from all the glow of the mushrooms. There was definitely something off about her.

Tav's eyes caught Astarion, by his lonesome in deep thought. She noticed his odd stare at her, "Oooh, Astarion! My favorite person in camp. Isn't it soOooOoo beautiful tonight?" She drunkenly plopped her body onto the ground, now sitting next to him.

Astarion's eyebrows crocked, and he noticed her pupils were dilated. "Oh dear, I see what's going on here. What did you eat?"

In this altered state, Tav's emotions fluctuated wildly. Waves of laughter washed over her as she found humor in the simplest things. Tears welled up in her eyes, not from sadness but from an overwhelming sense of beauty and interconnectedness with the world around her. "I didn't knoooow, please don't be mad at me. I just want to see the pretty plants tonight." Tav wiped away her unjustified tears, her mind was going insane. She could only cling to what little hold she had on reality.

Astarion tilted his head and stared at her. He was unable to take his eyes off her, often staring directly into her eyes or admiring her physical features. He adjusted his posture to face her. Admittingly, Astarion was already catching feelings for Tav the night they indulged in each other's bodies. It was just a part of his plan to manipulate her, something he knew how to do all too well. He just didn't expect to enjoy himself more than usual. It actually felt— good?

Astarion cleared his throat, "You must be losing your fucking mind. I bet anything we talk about now you won't even remember by tomorrow."

Tav slouched her head on his shoulder, her body twitching every so often, "I reaallyy don't want this to end. I lovE traveling w-with you guys, so much fun. I'm scared to go back home..." She spoke with slurs and all kinds of messiness. However, due to the fault of the mushroom she ate, the truth comes spilling out of her mouth uncontrollably.

Astarion perked up, "Scared? Darling what in the hells do you have to be scared of?" It wasn't like she had Cazador hovering over her shoulder. She couldn't possibly feel what he felt.

Tav's face ingrained with sadness. She clutched her trembling hands together, trying to steady herself. The fear that gripped her was suffocating, threatening to consume her entirely and the high didn't help her cope either. Home for her was anywhere but home. She wanted to run as far away as possible from this place that held nothing but darkness for her. "It's hard t-to talk about...You know that feeling that power someone has over you. It's hard to escape something that happened for soooo loonnngg." She rubbed her wide tired eyes. The area around her started to feel like it was melting with colors.

Astarion furrowed his brows, oddly, yes, he knew that feeling. But why did she know that feeling, "I do. But why—“

Tav cut Astarion off quickly, "I LOVE making bread. I have a hidden talent for it...Although now it isn't a secret anymore, so now you know." Tav cracked up a laugh, the little random bursts of confessions entertained her. It was hilarious to her. For no reason of course other than the mushroom effect.

"Uhh, right..." Astarion chuckled softly. She's ridiculous. It's actually entertaining to him how obliviously out of her mind she was. This was great blackmail fuel, or perhaps something he could poke fun at her for.

"Y-you are my favorite camp friend." She smiled goofily.

"Friend? What about our late-night tryst, Did you not enjoy yourself?" Astarion felt offended at her comment. Favorite, sure, but friend? This 'friend' comment did not fit into his plans. Although, lately he has been catching himself smiling at Tav more. He started to notice himself staring at her longer, maybe even lustfully? His heart raced whenever she got close to him, this was unfamiliar territory for Astarion. He leaned closer to her ear and whispered, "Would it make you happy to try again?"

"Oh! Yes, yes. Something in me tells me that'd make me very happy. But hold on! You dont reallyyy mean that do you?" Tav leaned away from him, and crossed her arms doubtfully.

"I— actually don't know. It doesn't really matter what I say now, you'll wake up tomorrow with not a zero clue." His mind wondered. Even if he confessed maybe having feelings for her, she would be oblivious. But it could also be a good moment to test the waters. If Astarion got a bad reaction from Tav, she'd forget all about it the next day. This could be an advantage for him.

"What if I told you you're incredible? That my plan to easily course you didn't work. That my master plan fell apart and every little thing we did together felt— meaningful…That in the midst of this mess I actually find myself caring for you?" He softly pushes away a strand of hair that swayed over Tav's face. His heart started to race to see her reaction.

To his surprise, Tav fell quiet and stared up at him. Her face flushed red and her eyes went a little watery. "You do..?" She spoke softly. Her breathing became heavy. Tav went and wrapped her arms around him in a warm and comforting embrace. The world around them seemed to fade away as they held each other tightly.

At that moment, all of Astarion's doubts melted away as he felt genuine affection and acceptance from Tav. He couldn’t believe that she reciprocated his feelings, and it filled him with an overwhelming sense of joy and relief. As they sat there embracing each other, time seemed to stand still.

The hug spoke volumes without the need for words. It conveyed a deep connection between them, finally acknowledging their feelings for each other. It was a moment of vulnerability and trust, where they could let down their guards and allow themselves to be open to the possibility of love. After all, Tav was Astarion's first consensual sex affair where he didn't worry about Cazador. He could not ever imagine taking her to him. She actually made Astarion feel love. This made him only want to protect her from any harm.

"I promise I'll make this sound better when you're not out of your damn mind." Astarion held her close. It was such a refreshing feeling to love someone instead of loathing someone. He felt the heat of his cheeks flush, and Tav tugged on his sleeve.

"C-Can I kiss you, Astarion?" The way she looked at him with those eyes of hers. Big, full of lust. He saw this same look the night they had sex.

He chuckled cockily, "You couldn't help yourself? I would like that." No one ever asked for his permission, it was admired greatly by him. His lips covered hers in a swift motion, and a soft smooch was placed on her lower lip. Her skin was so warm compared to his, and it only made him yearn more for that warmth.

There they were, in an atmosphere lushed with glowing plants as they held each other tightly in its nature. They kissed each other until it got sloppy, their breaths going in haste. Astarion pushed his body over hers, forcing her back onto the soft moss.

Astarion gazed down at Tav. It took him back to that night, how beautiful she looked under the moonlight, and how beautiful she still looked now. He felt lucky to have met such a beauty, she had a charm he only saw from royalty. The kind that has people swooning over her hand, begging to make her their beloved. Not many people could say they bestowed these kinds of looks.

"Astarion?" a whisper left her lips, cutely yet— begging. Her eyes averted from his and she felt her body tense. No mushroom could mask her lust for Astarion's touch, it was written all over her face. Her little trembles of excitement gave it away.

"Just say the words, love. You know I can give you all the pleasures, Your wish is my command." His hands traveled up and down her thigh, caressing her skin tenderly.

Tav nodded as a shiver ran up her spine from his touch. She spoke with a soft tone, one that begged for him tenderly, "I need your touch."

"As do I." He hovered over her small stature, placing his lips gently on hers. A soft kiss it was. It was different from their last kiss because that one was just lust. This kiss had a heart in it, so naturally it felt so much better. Especially when the warmth of her blood heated his cold lips.

Astarion shut his eyes tightly, and a tingle ran up his spine. The passion from the kiss scrambled his mind because why did love feel this good? Love never felt good. Cazador claimed all of his spawns were a family, something to love. That was no love. But Tav, however, felt completely different. Even regular sex felt amazing, which was also just bland for him.

Astarion kissed her lips until they couldn't no more. Both gasped for air as their adrenaline ran threw their bodies. Astarion's shaft pushed hard into the seam of his pants, and it poked her inner thigh. He then adjusted himself so that he wasn't poking at Tav anymore.

"I want to save that for later, my dear. A day when you can wake up and remember it. So you can come to me in the morning with flushed cheeks and a racing heart." Astarion didn't want to sour a moment where he could make love and not just have sex. He'd rather wait for Tav to be completely aware of herself.

Tav nodded in agreement. Her body felt like she was floating on a cloud. Her high still clouded her mind, and her body still yearned for him. "Could you suppose still spoil me...?"

His eyebrows raised in surprise. "Cheeky aren't we?" His hand raced down her curves, exploring the warmth of her skin, "I suppose I can, pet." Without a thought, Astarion swiftly tugged down Tav's pants. He pulled her legs apart so that her core was to full access to him.

His lips planted kisses all over her neck. The heat of his rough breaths hit Tav's skin, causing her goosebumps to crawl all over. All the while Astarion's hand was caressing over her folds. His fingers moistened as it stroked over her slit. Tav let out small moans as his fingers rubbed her clit. His motions were skilled, almost like a second nature to him.

“M-mphh…” Tav clutched onto the cloth of his shirt. His kisses grazed over her neck tenderly, and he nibbled on the lobe of her ear, “How does that feel?” He spoke in a breathy tone.

“Amazing.” She purred. Her legs twitched from Astarion’s touch. She became sensitive and more wet as he circled around her clit. He seemed pleased with the performance Tav was giving, the moans were a validation for him. But he wanted feel more of her.

With two fingers, he slipped it into her entrance. Tav gasped out of pleasure, the feeling was all too much and she spreader her legs more for him. He bucked his hand in and out of her. The warmth of her walls encased around his fingers, begging for more.

Tav cupped Astarion’s face, pulling him into a kiss that was muffled between her moans. His tongue danced with hers, a sweet taste he’s been thinking about the day they first kissed. Her back arched for him more, and it was granted, a third finger slipped into her and she pulled away from the kiss. A pleasurable wince left her lips and Astarion looked at her with red piercing eyes. He enjoyed watching her crumble under him. It made him feel powerful.

Tav’s head hung back as moans and groans left her mouth like a lyric to a song only Astarion could produce. Her wet core made it easier for him to fuck her with his fingers fast and swiftly. His arm burned as it continuously fucked her, he didn’t break his motion while beads of sweat formed on his temples.

Astarion suddenly lowered his head, he kept his fingers in her, and now his tongue was over her clit. His saliva trailed down between her inner thighs as her moans grew more intense. Her hand gripped a chunk of his hair, forcing his face closer into her core.

His tongue played with her clit, rubbing it in circles as his fingers thrusted in and out of her. An intensity swelled in her lower stomach, she gripped Astarion hair tighter as her finish comes to a near.

“F-fuck! Ahh— S-starion..” her back arched more and more against his face, like a two magnets attracting each other. His steamy breath huffed against her sex, awarding him with more groans. It was absolute bliss for Astarion. It was his first time spoiling someone like this. It felt so intimate and so passionate. If this is what sex felt like with a lover, he wanted to do it over and over again.

Tav yelled out a final moan of pleasure before releasing onto Astarion’s face. His tongue dragged along her folds, licking up any wetness he could as if he was drinking blood. He kissed her moistened core, he then picked up his head from between her legs.

Astarion used the back of his hand to wipe the cum off his mouth, his eye contact was like daggers. “Mmm…That taste of yours. It’s amazing.” He wrapped his fingers around the band of her pants, and pulled them up. Cleaning her up was a love language for him. To destroy someone sexually and then cleaning up the mess he caused, it was so liberating. Especially since it was Tav.

Tav sat up, her skin moistened red on her cheeks, “you’re too good at that. Do it again.” Tav teased him. She liked to have fun with Astarion even at the most tense of times.

“Cheeky pup. You might get tired of me if I keep spoiling you like this, however I couldn’t imagine ever getting bored of that taste of yours. You’re magnificent.” His finger stroked the side of her face softly. “Shall we get some rest? You’ll be needing it tomorrow when you’re sore.”

💤

The next morning Tav woke up with an aching head and also…a soreness between her legs? She brushed off the feeling and greeted her fellow camp members. Gods was she never touching another mushroom ever again. She pretty much went blank but she remembered a faint memory of Astarion face. But, she couldn’t tell if it was a wet dream or not.

She yawned and went to stroll around the camp to chat. When she made her rounds to Astarion he flashed her a welcoming smile, waaay nicer than he usually was, “Well look who we have here. How’d you sleep my dear?”

Tav pleasantly nodded her head to his kind words. “It was strange…but much needed. How did you sleep?”

“Wonderful. I wanted to say thank you for last night. It was…an experience I won’t forget.” He clicked his tongue softly. His face was smug and he walked away from Tav, who fell silent.

Her heart dropped in her chest and it all clicked together. The soreness, the stickiness she felt in her pants, and Astarion being extra nice. A moment she had alone with him and she could barely remember what was said. Tav was mentally cursing herself in her head. She was very fond of him and honestly, she wanted to figure out their dynamic. Only Astarion could tell the tale of their late night affair, but for now, Tav wondered all about her wet dream. Or so she thought.

Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage !

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eureka-its-zico · 10 months

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Commitment Part 2

Summary: After finding out the truth about who Jungkook really is, your world - and everything you thought you knew - comes crashing down. Do you begin to give in to your new captive situation, or do you continue to fight? The choices no longer seem so easy when you feel betrayed by the one you love…

A/N: Let’s be real: I bet a lot of you never thought there would be a second part to this (its a far assumption). But I’ve decide to make this a small series, maybe two or three more parts. I hope that this chapter feels worth the wait, and I hope it makes you excited for things to come. As always, thank you for stopping by, for reading, and hopefully, enjoying my work. Much love, Jenn.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 7k

Genre: Mafia!Jungkook, Detective Reader, enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies, mutual pining

Warnings: mentions of violence, sexual content (its smut, y’all), graphic violence, slight dom behavior, fingering, cunnalingus, almost p in v.

If it wasn’t for the searing pain that exploded behind your eyes you could’ve sworn - for a brief moment - that you were home. Safe at home in bed beside Jungkook, who was currently running his fingers softly through your hair. If he wasn’t peppering your jawline with kisses to wake you he was most definitely running his fingers through your hair.

You’d come to expect it. Your body responded in kind by nuzzling up beside him and claiming his lips with your own.

Morning breath be damned.

Unfortunately, it didn’t take your body long to remind you that the bed you were lying in didn’t belong to you. The pain pulsating inside your skull wasn’t just a killer migraine. God - you wanted to believe it was a bad dream and that you’d open your eyes and find yourself nestled against Jungkook’s chest with fresh coffee waiting for you on your nightstand.

The dried blood crusted somewhere in your hair and swollen lip reminded you that you weren’t that lucky. The only real thing you knew for sure was that Jungkook was in the room with you.

How did you know this? While you weren’t in your shared bed, sunlight drifting through the curtains to remind you it was time to start the day, you could feel fingers playing carefully through your hair. The pattern his fingers took, the way he gently moved through each strand to make sure his fingers didn’t catch it - pull it out of place - was something specifically Jungkook.

Now, Jungkook was taking even more care not to hurt you. His fingers moved achingly, slowly, through your hair making sure to avoid the throbbing wound.

You wanted to pull away from him. To open your eyes and scream at him while smashing your fists into his chests. You wanted answers - needed them to clear your conscience that what happened back at the station wasn’t your fault.

You wanted to hear him say he wasn’t the devil and you weren’t the fool.

But you couldn’t face him. Sure. You were filled with rage from being deceived, but had he really deceived you? Or had you simply deceived yourself?

All the red flags were there that his story didn’t make sense. The odd hours. The mysterious phone calls that sent him racing for the door half-dressed with promises to return. When he did come back, he wouldn’t let you touch him - come close to him - until after he showered. He’d ask simple questions over morning coffee about cases that you weren’t sure you’d ever talked to him about.

All the red flags were flown in your face, and you chose to overlook every single one for a handsome face and great dick. It wasn’t just that, was it? No. Somewhere along the line you both became too entangled; tethered to the same cord that strangled you both.

Maybe that’s why when he cupped your cheek your body instantly turned into him. You hated him - loved him - were hopelessly devoted to him all at the same time. All those emotions would tear you to pieces as surely as your rage would.

“Kitten - I know you’ve been awake for the last five minutes. Look at me.”

“Oh, I’ll look at you, alright,” you snarled.

You allowed all that anger - your brimming hatred - to burn in your gut. It gave you enough courage to do something either incredibly brave or plain stupid. You opened your eyes just enough to meet his gaze before your teeth sunk down into the soft flesh of his palm.

In a split second, the love that blossomed in his eyes as you looked at him wilted and replaced itself with a lightening of rage. Jungkook tried to shake his hand loose from between your teeth but it caused you to bite down harder. Never once did he yell or sound out his pain. It should’ve warned you that this flame would burn you.

You never were one to listen.

Jungkook tried one last time to violently shake his hand free, and when it failed his hand smacked down across your face. The ringing in your ears was deafening and caused your vision to blur. Your jaw loosened enough for him to slip his hand free, and the taste of copper flowed like a river across your tongue.

“Don’t ever call me ‘Kitten’ again,” you snapped, spitting blood onto the cold concrete floor.

“Anything else - Kitten.”

The bastard was smirking. Gone was the unholy look of rage that could destroy whole cities and back was the coy softness you’d grown to expect from him.

“Yeah. Don’t fucking touch me either.”

You expected him to snap. To bare teeth and tell you who you belonged to. Instead, all you got in return was that infamous smirk that spoke louder than words: he thought you were all talk. All venom that dripped from the pain of knowing you did belong to him. Even now with your body radiating with the urge to strike him you knew all it would take was one touch of his lips against yours and your fight would end.

“We both know you don’t mean it.”

“Don’t I? You’re a liar, Jungkook. A fucking psychopath.”

A sigh left him as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. The smirk now gone as he regarded you with raised brows and a look of indifference. His reaction telling you plainly that you were overreacting.

“It’s a little late to try and act like a forensic psychologist, don’t you think?”

“I’ve been to your crime scenes! I’ve seen the fucking carnage that you leave behind. Shit that would make Ed Gein look like a fucking Saint!”

God. You wanted to keep it together and act as cold as he portrayed himself to be, but how could you? Jungkook had become eerily still. For the first time since you’d realized who he was you felt scared.

“A psychopath you took to your bed. Who lived in your house, and cooked you dinners with the same hands that were held finger deep by your clenching pussy were also the same ones used to maim and murder. Tell me, Kitten, did it feel better being fucked by a psychopath than the straight and narrow pricks you allowed in your bed?”

You allowed the fear you felt to turn into stone cold dread as it dawned on you that they’d been watching you from the beginning. That he was mentioning your old partner, Christian, that you’d had a relationship with before it turned sour. Before he began to care more about having you sit at a desk job instead of being in the field chasing after bad guys. Bad guys like Jungkook.

For all the dread that corroded your veins they were stoked to life with a rage so incredibly potent you could’ve sworn, for a moment, you went blind.

“Get. Out.” When Jungkook showed no signs of moving you grabbed the only pillow off the cot bed and flung it as hard as you could. He dodged it easily. “Get the fuck out! I don’t want to see you ever again. You hear me? I hate you!”

“No you don’t-“

“Don’t you tell me what I feel, Jungkook!”

“You wish you could hate me, Kitten, but you can’t.”

“Watch me. I’m going to get out of here and I’m putting your narcissistic, psychotic ass in prison for the rest of your unnatural fucking life. Afterwards, I’ll find someone to fuck to wash you completely out of my system! Marry them-”

When you first started your rant, Jungkook was smug. The cockiness of his belief that you couldn’t hate him - couldn’t move past him - kept his shoulders squared in confidence until his eyes met yours. Whatever he saw there - the raw determination - was enough to make that confident facade drop leaving only something much worse in its wake. Your bratty words meant to wound him only stoked a fire that threatened to burn entire cities.

He took a threatening step towards you as his hands dropped from inside his pockets. His fists clenching and unclenching in time with the ticking of his jaw. You wanted to put as much space between you two as possible, but you didn’t want to back down either.

“I have never loved someone like I love you. Do you understand that? You are mine. And if you think I’m ever going to let you go, you got another thing coming, sweetheart. I am not letting you go.” Jungkook was standing in front of you now. His body dropped down just enough to meet you at eye level as he breathed one final promise across your lips, “Ever. I will burn down a thousand fucking cities looking for you, if I have too.”

You braced yourself for a kiss that never came. Your pulse felt like at any moment it would burst from your neck. Jungkook noticed. He always did and that seemed to be enough for him, because he didn’t kiss you. He simply pushed back on his feet and turned towards the cell door. He called out and a man dressed in all black with an m16 strapped across his chest appeared. Jungkook shot you one last look as the guard opened the door, and allowed him to pass through just before he began to lock it again.

Jungkook was still looking at you when he spoke to the henchman. “Don’t you fucking go in there with her. Don’t you let anyone in there unless it’s been cleared with me first.”

“Sir, what about Namjoon-“

“I said cleared with me first. Got it?”

The man nodded his head too many times. Enough to make you wonder if he’d given himself whiplash before Jungkook spared you one last glance before disappearing back inside the depths of whatever fresh hell you’d put yourself in.

When you continued to wake up still breathing on the cot, you were surprised. Okay. You were a whole lot of surprised. You half expected to be a lifeless corpse rising from a trash heap than to be found tucked inside bedsheets. It didn’t take you long to know why you weren’t dead yet nor was it a surprise

It felt like you’d been awake for hours. Your eyes helplessly combed over every painted brick of the walls for any sign of weakness. Without an actual clock inside your makeshift prison there was plenty of room for error when it came to time frames. It could've simply been hours since you’d been in the cell. But because of the trauma you’d sustained to your head - the possible unseen damage - it could’ve been days. The thought alone causes your stomach to somersault violently into your throat.

Since you woke up that first time and had your spat with Jungkook, he hadn’t returned to visit you. The guards at your cell, however, still followed his orders. Most of them wouldn’t even look at you.

The headache you’d been nursing with the palm of your hand since you woke up continued to be a nagging friend. It’s persistent poking and prodding against your temple caused your vision to shift into doubles at the worst times. Mostly, those worst times accumulated down to when you were pacing in your cell. The game plan you’d come up with kept constantly changing -forming- and retaking shape.

When you first awoke in the dank cell, you were quick to notice you were lying on a cot. It’s placement in one of the corners of the room's brick walls made it easy for you to determine the only thing inside it was you and the cot. The exposed lightbulb above the room swaying at odd times. As if the ground above shook with the same rage you felt building in your chest.

There weren’t any windows, and instead of metal bars there was just a door. It’s rusted exterior letting you know wherever you’d been taken too was very old. No windows and no open metal framework told you simply that yelling for help was out of the question. You weren’t surprised: you’d been reading their files for years. If they didn’t keep you closed off from the rest of civilization, you’d have questioned the whole thing.

You started feeling the grooves in between the bricks. Every single one painted over in gunmetal grey to make the cell appear darker. Whatever light the flickering bulb above gave off was consumed and tinted by lighted shadow.

It took everything you had to concentrate on feeling out the grooves for possible signs that the bricks were possibly lose. Or maybe even catch the slightest breeze - making its way through a large crack. You allowed yourself to hope.

How stupid of you.

With every inch and glide of your palms against the cool surface, you felt your heart beginning to sink. You were never getting out. The chances of you making it out on your own two legs and not a body bag was dwindling and your hysteria. Well, that was definitely beginning to spring to the surface.

You’d just taken rapid steps back away from your latest attempt, the panic swelling up your chest was threatening to turn you feral. The only course of action you could think to do was to cause yourself pain. So, your hands flew up to grab at your head. The minute your finger scratched at the dull cut your vision exploded in pain - hissing past your lips with your eyes flinching at the thundering ache. The dried blood flaked down to your jacket, and you stared at the few flakes resting on your shoulder.

The pain was bringing you out of your breakdown, but barely. You were running out of ideas - of options - when you heard the sound of a large deadbolt coming loose and right after a few larger bolts slid out of place. Your anxiety attack had placed you dead center in the middle of the room.

The lightbulb’s glow painted you in a spotlight of sunburnt yellows - the blood on your hair and face made you feel like a wounded animal. Every click of a lock coming undone a time bomb to the Hunter coming in to finish the job.

Your heart was back in your throat as you glanced around hopelessly for an object, anything to defend yourself, and came up short. With the last lock coming undone you decided you would wait for them to enter. Your muscles tensing up in your thighs as you prepared yourself to run at whoever it was.

You prepared yourself as much as you could but when the door squeakily opened and Jungkook stepped through all your resolve faded. He was just standing there - like nothing happened - looking handsome as ever with a tray held with one hand. The entire night flashed before you. The deceit. The lies. The last conversation you had before he’d left the room. To see him standing there with that smug look on his face - the same one he gave you when he proved he was better at cooking, games, or sex irritated the shit out of you.

All the dinners you cooked together in your shared kitchen. The trips you’d taken and the little notes you found inside your coat pockets or on the fridge and bathroom mirror. Was it all a lie? Was his smugness due to him winning the biggest game of all?

The scream that you bottled up broke free as you charged towards him. You hated how unfazed he seemed - how amused. Jungkook wasn’t apologetic for tearing your world apart: for making you love him. If anything, he stood like a god before you. Gluttonous in his pride knowing you couldn’t do anything to him.

You swung at him, realizing too late it was a wide swing. His hand came up in seconds to grab your swinging arm in mid-air. You were still moving forward with your momentum, unable to come to a stop, and Jungkook used it to twist your arm in his grip and bring you colliding into his chest.

The tray of food and whatever else he’d carried was an afterthought as its content scattered all over the floor. You tried to wriggle out of his strong grip, but that only succeeded in making him hold on to you tighter. You could practically feel his muscles as they flexed under the shirt.

“I told you, I didn’t want to see you again,” you seethed.

“And I told you, Kitten, that I wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Let me go, Jungkook. Let. Me. Go!”

If you could’ve pounded on his big stupidity attractive chest you would have. Since you couldn’t, you settled for screaming in his face. You tried to take a step back, to try and gain some kind of leverage, when his free hand came up to grip the back of your head. He used that leverage to bring your face dangerously close to his. The wild look in his eyes made you grow incredibly still.

“I need you to get it through that thick skull of yours,” he used your name. Jungkook rarely ever used your name. “If you think for one second I am spending one second of my life without you, you are sadly mistaken.”

“You’re an idiot,” you gasped. You were not going to fucking cry right now. “Why would you want someone who doesn’t want you - who can’t stand the sight of you?”

Jungkook dipped down and brushed the tip of his nose over yours. The gentle touch shocked you enough that you stopped moving; forgot to breathe.

“When are you going to stop lying to yourself, Kitten? We were made for each other.”

You wanted to deny his statement. To remind him that he was not only a psychopath, but a delusional one at that, but was he the only delusional one in the room? Or was it you?

You didn’t get a chance to dispute his claim. Using the hold he had on the back of your neck, Jungkook brought you the last couple inches closer and sealed his lips down on yours.

The worst part about Jungkook kissing you was how your resistance completely crumbled. You knew he must have noticed it too - the way the fight slowly seeped out of your muscles. How easy it was for his tongue to spread your lips open to dive inside. The grip he’d held on your arm released, but Jungkook made sure he kept you secured to him. His hand on your neck pressing you painfully closer as the hand he’d removed from your wrist now dug its fingers into the soft flesh of your hips.

You didn’t want him thinking that it was over for you; that he’d won. Your lust may have clouded your mind, but somewhere behind the cloud your common sense was screaming. Unfortunately, common sense was losing when his hand trailed up beneath your shirt to the swell of your breasts. Nimble fingers pulled down the cotton fabric of your bra to expose your nipples to him.

Jungkook made quick work to take the bud between his thumb and index finger and applied the right amount of pressure. Just enough to make a moan gasp against his mouth right before he moved in to swallow the sound with another heated kiss.

He pinched your nipple one last time sending a delicious shiver to shoot down your spine. Instantly, your pussy reacted to his touch. You knew if - when - he pulled down your pants Jungkook would find your underwear soaked.

You weren’t sure what made you do it. Maybe you were annoyed by how easily he made you crumble at his touch. He was a monster. A killer.

But he’s your monster.

The thought made your blood run cold. The desire Jungkook had stoked inside you quickly disappeared as that thought haunted you. When you tried to pull away from his kiss, Jungkook’s grip on your neck refused to let you go. So, you did the only thing you could think of.

You waited until his bottom lip pressed down into a pout to grab it with your teeth. You bit down hard enough for your tongue to be greeted with the taste of blood. A growl rumbled deep in chest; a sound he pressed with violent force against your lips.

The kiss felt bruising as his hands dropped down to the back of your thighs. You were able to pull away from him enough to let out a small yelp of surprise when Jungkook’s hands grabbed your thighs and hoisted you up. Instantly, you wrapped your legs around his waist.

His feet carried you over to the corner of the room. You expected to be thrown down on the cot. Your body tensed up as it waited for the coming drop, but it never came. Instead, Jungkook pushed you up against the cold stone of the wall with enough force it pushed a rush of air from your lungs.

You were about to call out - the jolt of brief pain ready to escape from your mouth - when Jungkook crashed his lips back into yours. His hips rutted up into you. His cock hard and pressed into the fabric of his jeans.

He controlled the movement with his hands on your hips. Half of your weight supported by the wall and his hips that he moved over your clothed sex. The friction of his clothed cock rubbed against your clit made you moan into the kiss.

“You want to play rough, kitten,” he huffed against your lips. “I can play rough. I’ll be as rough as you want me to be.”

To prove his point, Jungkook traced his lips down to your neck. His tongue grazed from the hollow of your throat down towards your collarbone. When he reached your shoulder he sank his teeth down into the skin. You let out a small scream, your hands fisting into his hair, as you tried to tug him loose.

Jungkook kept the pressure of his teeth firmly in their place and, using his hands on his hips, ground up into you. The jolt of pleasure that collided with the pain sent another moan spilling free from your lips. You were close to begging him to stop teasing - to give you what you wanted - but Jungkook seemed to know from the soft pleas that you hummed against his ear.

Without warning, he peeled you from the wall and flung you both on top of the cot. Jungkook caught himself with his hands at the last second making sure he didn’t crush you against the mattress. You wouldn’t have cared. You couldn’t find time to care as he helped strip you of your jacket and shirt. Your own hands desperately trying to pull his shirt over his head so you could feel him bare and pressed against you.

When your bra was removed and flung off your arms, Jungkook didn’t hesitate to take each breast in his hands. He dropped down and wrapped his mouth around a nipple. The feeling of his tongue flicking and swirling caused your body to arch into him. Your hands flew wildly to grab ahold of the strands of his hair - fingers curling and pulling as he took a nipple between his teeth. Jungkook made sure he took his time taking each nipple in his mouth; tongue swirling around the stiff peaks.

You could feel his hand drift down your middle to the edge of your jeans. You didn’t try and fight him as his nimble fingers worked at the button of your jeans, and further down between the fabric and the lace of your underwear.

When Jungkook’s fingers first felt between your folds - his fingers finding you soaked - he exhaled heavily. His mouth made a loud pop as he disconnected from your breast with eyes hollowed with hunger meeting your own.

“Fuck. You’re always so wet for me, Kitten,” he huffed.

You weren’t sure how to answer him or if you even should. You hated him - wanted to believe you hated him - and everything he stood for. There was no denying, however, that you wanted him. It went beyond reason, because you couldn’t understand it. The only thing you did understand was when he pushed three fingers knuckle deep inside your aching pussy, your body turned molten with a need so deep that only Jungkook could sate.

The lewd wet sounds of his fingers thrusting in and out of you filled the room. The only other sound to try and cover that was your soft moans that only grew louder when Jungkook stripped your pants and underwear down over your thighs, and off your legs and buried his tongue between your folds.

His tongue traced up from your entrance, and took his time licking his way up to swirl at your clit before giving a large stroke. This time you did scream as his tongue fucked you; stroked and sucked every inch of you until your legs quivered around him forcing your words to become incoherent.

You couldn’t take it anymore. The need to be filled with him became overwhelming and, using his hair to pull him violently up, you asked, “Jungkook-“ you breathlessly pleaded, “Fuck me. Please.”

He looked up at you from between your legs. His pupils were blown out completely with lust. There was a moment where you wondered if he’d even heard you. There was no recognition in his face that he had heard you until a growl brushed past his lips, and he nipped at the inner corner of your thigh. You let out a sound of surprise as you tried to move back, but Jungkook kept you securely in place.

“Is that what you want?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want you, Jungkook.”

You thought he was going to ask more stupid questions. Couldn’t he see you were a fool for him? Couldn’t he see how much you needed him? At that moment, you were willing to beg him. You were ready to start doing exactly that when Jungkook suddenly moved up with his hands at his belt. His fingers were rapidly unbuttoning his jeans when a loud knock came at the door.

Jungkook’s response was instant and animalistic. A snarl cut through the room that seemed to suspend time completely. The person behind the door no doubt shitting themselves for making a boldly stupid decision.

“Whoever it is, you better have a good fucking reason for interrupting me,” he snapped.

Again. Silence. You were willing to bet they’d run for safety, except you were wrong.

“I’m sorry, boss, but Namjoon sent me down to find you. He needs you to come back to the lounge, and he requested you bring the prisoner with you.”

Jungkook had gone eerily still above you. The sexually charged air began to change as the lust that had been in his eyes was replaced by something darker; more dangerous. Suddenly, you felt too exposed to the room. Your hands meekly moved to try and cover your nakedness from the room, while Jungkook remained on his knees above you. His buckle loose at his waist and upper body bare.

He seemed to be deciding whether to do as he was asked or tell them to fuck off. You’d learned, however, that while Jungkook was no doubt the unhinged part of Namjoon’s crew, he was loyal. You didn’t think he would deny a request from his leader, even for you.

He let out a heavy sigh as he removed himself from the cot, his legs bending down slightly so he could scoop up his shirt and put it back on.

“Tell him we’ll be there in five minutes.”

While he didn’t sound happy about it, Jungkook was still going to be a good boy and do as he was told.

“Namjoon asked for you to hurry-“

“Fuck off!” Jungkook snapped. A booted foot slammed against the metal of the door making everything grow still with fear. “I said it’ll be five minutes. Now go.”

The sound of retreating feet filled the hall outside before Jungkook had even finished telling him to leave. Smart man. You swung your legs over the side of the cot and moved to start picking up your clothes when hands on your waist pushed you back against the wall.

You looked up just in time to watch Jungkook fall to his knees between your legs. His hands grasping your left thigh to raise it up onto his shoulder. The angle left him closer to the mound of your sex.

“Jungkook, what are you doing? You told them we’d be there in five minutes.”

The devilish smirk you knew all too well tilted the corner of his lips. The lust that was stripped away seconds ago coming back as his tongue lazy stroked between your folds coaxing a gasp to leave you.

“I only need a couple to make you come.”

Jungkook always was a man of his word.

You walked down the hallways beside Jungkook as he led you through the large building. Wherever it was The Devils’ called home, it was a renovated industrial building. Maybe once upon a time, it had housed machinery of some kind to build cars or maybe make some sort of sweet treat that eventually closed down. Whatever the building was used for originally, it had been refurbished to house evil.

The cold original metal and brick of the interior has been kept with only a few choices of artwork, drapes around the windows, and furniture giving it a sense of life. To you, no matter what anyone tried to place in the building, it would still feel uninviting.

Jungkook instructed you to follow him as he turned left at the next four way intersection of the building. His hand on your arm gently pulled you along and kept you close to him all at the same time.

“When we get in there don’t speak unless he instructs you to speak.”

“I’ll speak when I want too,” you snapped, hating the idea of being good for any of them.

Jungkook sent you a glaring look of warning as came to a set of double doors.

“Don’t be stupid, Kitten. The only reason you’re still alive is because of me.”

“And should I be grateful for that?” You wanted to pull your arm out of his grip, but it felt silly to do that when you’d just come all over his tongue.

Jungkook appeared to be having the same thought.

“Yes. You should.”

That was all the reply Jungkook bothered to give you as he pushed open the door and ushered you inside. This room, whatever it had been, was more updated than what you’d previously seen. The walls were painted a warm tone and carpet was put in. Off to the counter was a large bar that had an actual bartender stuck behind the empty counter with a slew of couches placed like a large C inside the middle.

Inside that large C is where your eyes found Namjoon. His body positioned in the center of the C and sitting patiently. The second the two of you entered his eyes were on you. The judgment in them was heavy and something that he wasn’t afraid to show.

Namjoon didn’t seem to like you very much. Well, the feeling was mutual. Jungkook stopped you in the middle and released the grip he’d held on your arm. He moved away from you to go and stand off to the left of Namjoon with Yoongi being at his right.

You hated being left there like some kind of fucked up prize. It wasn’t just the three of them and a bartender. No, scattered around the back of the lounge stood more lackey’s, the unimportant ones that were used as fodder when shit got heavy were scattered all around. Most of them wear shit eating grins as if your presence in their bad guy lair was just the funniest damn thing.

You’d see who’d have the last laugh.

“Welcome, Detective,” Namjoon’s voice boomed inside the room. His arms swept over the area as he attempted to smile in what he must have thought was a greeting. It looked more like a grimace. “I do hope you’ve been enjoying your stay here.”

You considered him coolly as you thought of how to reply. Jungkook had instructed you to speak when spoken too; to play nice. You always did have an issue with doing what you were told.

“Actually, it’s been shit,” you started with a shrug. “I’m just waiting to get out of here.”

“And why is that?”

Namjoon seemed to know why. He didn’t need to truly ask you. He was only doing it because he wanted to see if you’d have the guts to say it out loud.

“You aren’t dumb. None of you are, and I’m willing to bet you all know exactly what I’m going to do when I’m out of here.”

“Kitten.”

One word. Jungkook spoke your pet name as a warning. His face and body had grown stiff as he took a cautious step towards you. Namjoon held up a hand to stop him, waving him back to stand in his spot. Jungkook didn’t like it. It was made apparent by the ticking of his jaw as he continued to watch.

“No, no Jungkook let her speak. You think you are going to put us away?”

“Oh, I know I can.” You retorted, allowing yourself your own sickly sweet smile. “I won’t stop until I place every single one of you where you deserve.”

“That's a noble little quest you’ve given yourself, but you’ve got your ideas of who’s good and who's bad backwards, I’m afraid.”

A snort of laughter left you. The disbelief evident on your face as you regarded the men around you. These men who had slaughtered droves of people; families even. Men who had tried to come forward to atone for the crimes they had committed, their conscience finally taking hold, only for you to find the entire home missing or dead. Hospital staff who had been gunned down along with rival gang leaders who’d been inside.

The terror these men had caused and all for the name of what? Infamy? Power? Money? All the things that didn’t mean shit when you were six feet under. The thing that disgusted you the most wasn’t these men and their atrocities, but your own.

The very man who was responsible for so much of that carnage had just been buried nose deep between your legs, and you’d let him. All the fight you’d claimed to have - the moral standing - completely went away when he touched you. Where was your resolve then? Where was your belief in Justice for those victims when his hands were digging into your hips and his cock buried inside you?

Nowhere.

Looking at him now you knew a part of you hated Jungkook, but the person you really hated was yourself.

With your eyes roaming back to face down Namjoon, you square your shoulders and make sure your resolve shown through as you speak your next words.

“I’ve seen your handiwork, and I know what kind of men you are. I meant what I said. I’m going to find a way out of here and when I do, I promise you until my very last breath, I will hunt you down and put you fucking animals where you belong.”

You hadn’t realized you were shaking - that you’d taken a step towards him until Jungkook and Yoongi took a step with you. Good. Let them know you meant every word. That they weren’t the only boogeymen meant to be feared.

Namjoon sat forward, his arms resting on his thighs, as he regarded you with a calculating eye. No longer did he think you were trying to talk tough because of your situation. Now, you were positive, he knew you meant every word and that maybe he should proceed with caution.

“You’d lock up Jungkook, as well?”

He was testing you. Maybe it was a test meant to show Jungkook he shouldn’t have grown soft for you. That you didn’t care for him the way he did you.

You wished that was the truth but, unfortunately, it was far from it. Maybe that’s why when you turn to look in Jungkook’s direction you will yourself to look callous; completely disregarding what resembled hurt that was scrunching across his brow.

“All of you deserve to be in cages. No exceptions.”

“We’ll, I guess we better make sure to keep you locked inside one yourself.”

You knew that voice.

Your back went rigid as your mind raced at the recognition of that voice. A part of you didn’t want to turn - to see - the betrayal you felt coming towards you like a speeding train. Unfortunately, this was something you couldn’t run from.

Turning your head to your right, you watched as your Chief came into view. A smug smile showing all of his pearly white teeth like the Cheshire Cat who’d stumped you at your own riddle. The shitty part about that was that he had.

You’d always suspected that The Devils’ had some form of inside help. Most gangs were good, but no one rivaled The Devils’ when it came to the amount of intel they seemed to have. When witness protection magically lost informants, or informants were found out while undercover. Good seasoned Detectives who had been doing this for years miraculously were caught with their body parts being dumped in front of the police station with rats festering inside the bags.

At first, you thought it had been you. That these men and women had paid with their lives all because of some costly fling. The endless guilt of racking your brain wondering what you’d left out; let slip while grocery shopping or relaxing with him on the couch.

And all along it had been Chief Ebert.

“You fuckin’ traitor!” You snarled.

Seconds later, your closed fist collided with his nose and a spurt of blood erupted like a spout. A sharp cry of pain filled the room as you launched yourself at him, but found arms securing themselves at your waist and pulling away. The fast movement off to your left let you know it wasn’t Jungkook who had grabbed you, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he didn’t like it one bit.

“Jungkook - stay where you’re at,” Namjoon ordered. “Hyujin, restrain her.”

“I’d like to see you fucking try!”

You felt murderous. Your heart pounded like war drums inside your chest. In a matter of a day, two days, the amount of betrayal you’d experienced left your world spinning. With an even bigger question of, “Who could be trusted?” raging inside of your head.

“You fucking bitch!” Chief Ebert muttered out. His fingers sloppily trying to stop the blood from running out. “I always knew you were psychotic.”

“That’s rich coming from a treacherous weasel,” you snapped back. “How much did you sell your honor for, huh?”

“Oh, shut up,” he huffed. “Like you have any room to talk. When I requested for Jungkook to follow you to make sure he kept you off leads on investigations, I never would have thought it would’ve been that easy for him to fucking get to you.”

Another flash of red filtered over your vision. With a snarl you lashed out with your foot with your boot connecting with his chest shoving him down.

“That is enough!” Namjoon’s voice boomed over the room. “Hyujin, take her back to her cell. Ebert get the hell up so we can get this over with.”

You were still struggling as the lackey in question, Hyujin, walked you back down the long stretches of hallway Jungkook had just led you down.

Did Ebert say he requested Jungkook to follow you? So, that night at the bar…Jungkook knew exactly who you were. He knew everything about you, because Ebert told Namjoon who had told him.

Your mind tried to make sense of the carousel of deceit you kept finding yourself in. It struggled to find footing - on a course of action - but at the end of every idea the uncertainty of who could you trust came slamming home into your chest. Hyujin almost had you back to your cell when you finally made up your mind. While you weren’t sure who you could trust, you knew one thing - you could trust yourself. With your mind made up you took in a breath preparing for your next move.

It was now or never.

You let out a small scream as you slammed the heel of your foot down on top of the guard's foot. When he bent down in predictable fashion, you brought your elbow up to crash against his face. It gave you just enough momentum to grab the m16 that was strapped around his neck, to grab at the strap, and move behind him, pulling it tight across his throat.

It takes longer in real-life to choke someone into unconsciousness, even longer if you’re trying to kill them. Lucky for this guy you only meant to only do the first. When Hyujin finally stopped struggling, you removed the strap from around his throat, completely removing the gun from his body. You put the strap over your shoulder and went to work looking for keys.

You found a walkie talkie and earbud and quickly put it on. While you didn’t plan on staying long enough to actually use it, it would come in handy as you tried to make your escape.

After locating the keys, you plugged in the earbud and secured the radio to the back of your pants. With the gun held tightly in your hands, you started making your way back up the hallway in search of an exit. It was time to start your escape.

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. Thank you for reading! XoXo

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toaster-trash · 9 months

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One of the things that piss me off the absolute most about popular academic Frankenstein analysis is the “Victor Frankenstein is sexist” take. Like I know I’ve spoken about this quite a lot before but god damn it’s like people just look at the text and see, “(I) looked upon Elizabeth as mine—mine to protect, love, and cherish. All praises bestowed on her I received as made to a possession of my own.”, and they just immediately go, “Oh! Oh! Sexism! Misogyny! Victor Frankenstein is a sexist! Why does he want to create the perfect man, huh? *gasp* is it because he thinks women are inferior?”

When if those people pulled their heads out of their asses for five minutes and read the rest of that paragraph, “On the evening previous to her being brought to my home, my mother had said playfully, “I have a pretty present for my Victor—tomorrow he shall have it.” And when, on the morrow, she presented Elizabeth to me as her promised gift, I, with childish seriousness, interpreted her words literally and looked upon Elizabeth as mine (…)” along with the fact that Victor explicitly says he was “about five years old”, they’d maybe consider, “huh, maybe it’s very fucked up of a mother to give her to her son as a gift and spent her entire life basically shipping these two adopted siblings together until, on her death bed, she says, “my firmest hopes of future happiness were placed on the prospect of your union. This expectation will now be the consolation of your father.” Wow, maybe that’s kind of fucked up. Maybe painting, again, a five year old, who was honesty for all intents and purposes pretty much just manipulated into thinking it was his duty to marry his adopted sister out of respect for his dead mother’s last wishes who died when he was seventeen, as a wife-beating woman hater who reanimated the dead to spite half the human population, is very very fucked up!”

Like I can’t stress this enough – both Elizabeth and Victor are victims here. Of course as the story goes on a bit and Victor is a grown adult man who’s still avoiding his feelings and fucking off across the continent with his buddy pal best friend every five minutes instead of facing his mistakes and emotions, yeah, he is honestly more or less to blame for Elizabeth’s death, but that isn’t misogyny. Avoidance of everything is like one of his integral character flaws.

And I mean if you thought the 1831 republication had some creepy undertones, look at the bloody original 1818 version.

“(My uncle) request(ed) my father (…) take charge of the infant Elizabeth, the only child of his deceased sister. “It is my wish,” he said, “that you should consider her as your own daughter, and educate her thus.”’

So just explicit incest, basically. And again, if you thought Victor’s mother was a bit creepy and pushy in the republication,

“I have often heard my mother say, that she was at that time the most beautiful child she had ever seen, and shewed signs even then of a gentle and affectionate disposition. These indications, and a desire to bind as closely as possible the ties of domestic love, determined my mother to consider Elizabeth as my future wife; a design which she never found reason to repent.”

“………A desire to bind as closely as possible the ties of domestic love?” My brother in Christ you were groomed. Fun fact, I read the 1818 version first and read that in the middle of form class and sat for a good five minutes staring flabbergasted at what the fuck I was reading.

So no, dear God no, nowhere in the text does it imply Victor Frankenstein hates women. I mean honestly it’s kind of shown in the way he talks about the Creature’s Bride that he doesn’t view women as objects and does, in fact, view them as people.

“He had sworn to quit the neighbourhood of man and hide himself in deserts, but she had not; and she, who in all probability was to become a thinking and reasoning animal, might refuse to comply with a compact made before her creation.”

My guy basically says “well what are we expecting her to do here, immediately marry you just because she was told to?”

(Just a fun little comparison I noticed there – not to turn the conversation back to my whole “does Victor is gay” theory but I think it is interesting that Victor thinks that, that he does go “well she can’t just be expected to marry someone just because she was told to!” and then suggests to himself that she would probably rather “turn with disgust from him to the superior beauty of man” – interesting, Victor. Like Clerval’s “form so divinely wrought, and beaming with beauty”? Interesting as well that after Victor comes to that conclusion and destroys the Bride, the Creature immediately then kills Henry and only then does Victor finally go “well. I finally have to marry Elizabeth.” Feeling disheartened by sparing her your predicament only to be thrust even deeper into your own, are we?)

But yeah. “Victor Frankenstein is a full-blown women-hating misogynist” takes really piss me off. Another case of “oooh yes let’s cherry pick the text scouring it for anything we can possibly use to turn things back around to the same few analysis points we’ll reuse over and over instead of possibly considering that just because a text is written by a woman doesn’t mean that it’s a massive rant on the patriarchy disguised as a science fiction novel.”

Maybe that’s kind of sexist itself. Maybe women can just write kick-ass gothic horror sometimes. And maybe just because a work definitely has undertones about sexism and misogyny (like, fair enough, a lot of Elizabeth’s character definitely does) that doesn’t mean that the male protagonist wants to kill all women! And surprise surprise as well, works can comment on misogyny and patriarchy and acknowledge that women are treated badly in society and have been in differing ways for hundreds of years, without going “all men are inherently evil and fuck them all”. Bit of a side rant that I won’t go all into here, but just worth mentioning that after seeing this over and over again in media and analysis of media over and over again, hey, misandry won’t fix misogyny. It just makes everything considerably stupidly worse. –your friendly neighbourhood bisexual

#gothic lit #classic literature #gothic literature #goth lit #classic lit #frankenstein #frankenstein weekly #frankenstein or the modern prometheus #Victor Frankenstein #Elizabeth Lavenza #Frankenstein analysis #Clervalstein #(kind of)#frankenstein everyday

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vanquishedjelly · 1 year

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Mission Accomplished

HellBoy x Reader

Summary- You and HellBoy have been flirting back and forth. Waiting for each other to make a move. Battling to see who will react first. What will happen when you take the flirting up a notch?

A/N- I love the thought of how flirty HellBoy is, and I love the thought of someone else flirting just as much with him (if not more) and so my imagination took hold. Enjoy!

It's been a few years since I've joined B.P.R.D. When I was asked to join I didn't think I would be of much use. I only have Intention/Emotion Sense, both of which I couldn't see being useful on missions, but nevertheless they ushered me to join and I am so glad they did. When I first met Abraham and HellBoy I was blown away by their abilities (and their looks, not gonna lie). Almost feeling slightly lesser than, but Abe was the first to speak up and quickly dismissed those thoughts (which is how i found out he could read minds… crazy, right?) HellBoy on the other hand was kind of stand off-ish?.. is the only way I can put it. His Emotion showed neutrual- no like nor dislike- like he didn't expect me to be around for very long, so he didn't really see the need in putting much time in friendly conversation. Understandable. The first few months it was just me and Abe, goofing about. Normally talking about the books in the library, the missions he and HellBoy has been on- which HellBoy made sure to chime in every now and then to add small details in the stories as he could. Or just chilling- Abe in his tank munching on his god awful smelly eggs and me sitting in the big chair in the library with my phone talking about whatever crossed our minds. Slowly but surely HellBoy started sitting down with us in the library, speaking up a lot more about stories, or even asking my thoughts on random things. I was curious and I felt his intentions, wholeheartedly friendly and emotions were slightly nervous at times, so I opened up to his interactions quickly. After that, me and him talked damn near on a daily basis. Finding out how much of a flirt he was and how much of a goofball he was, was a rollercoaster to say the least- especially on my first mission. Oh lord… You should've seen his face when I started flirting back just as much. I didn't even need to sense to see how surprised he was.

_ "Hey, (y/n), you still with us?" I quickly look up from my forgotten book, staring wide eyed at HellBoy, who was leaning against the door frame. It wasn't hard to sense that his intention was to find me. "Ok, I gotta know what you're thinkin' bout to get that look on your face." He says, his laughter showing through his tone. I tilt my head, "I had a look on my face?" He nods, "yeah, smilin' from ear to ear," he motions his finger towards my face, "and with that far away look, i know it wasn't because of what you're reading." I laugh and shrug slightly, "didn't know i was so easy to read." I sigh, the same reminiscing smile reappears on my face, "just remembering my first few months here." I close the book in my lap and set it aside as HellBoy walks further into the library, almost towering over me. "yeah, I remember the look you gave me when i walked into the room." He says, "the way I saw your pupils dilate." He whistles in emphasis, " I just know you was marveling in how hot i was." I huff out a laugh. "Oh, ab-so-lutley!" staring up at him, "I was so hot and bothered i didn't know what to do with myself." i half joke, fanning myself. He lets out a hearty laugh. "so, you've found me, what'd you need?" I ask "Manning has another" he makes air quotations, " 'Gas leak' for us to fix before it gets too outta hand." I nod, "He needs all of us in the meeting room in 30 minutes to talk about the details." I stand up, "alright, gives me the perfect amount of time to take a shower and get ready." I say absentmindedly walking towards the door with him in tow. "without me?" he says, I can hear his grin in his voice. "yes, without you." I whip around, halting him in his tracks. I run my hands up and down his chest in sensual motions "baby I'd take my time with you, so I don't think we'd make it to the meeting." I smirk. I can basically see the wheels turning in his head, imagining all the things that would entail that moment. "Is that a promise?" He says, his voice in between a whisper and a growl. I can physically feel his arousal build. "Maybe." I smile. He takes a quick intake of breath. 'gotcha' I think to myself. "but," I say, slightly pulling away, "I don't wanna hear Mannings' bitching about us running late." He growls. He raises his hands, about to wrap his arms around my waist, but I whip around and start walking away before he can. I smile to myself as I can feel how frustrated he is.

Mission accomplished.

#HellBoy #Hell Boy #Hellboy x reader #Hellboy x GN!Reader #Hell boy x reader #abraham sapien #GN!reader #almost smut #smut #David Harbour #B.P.R.D.#i need someone to give me more stories prompts

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silenzahra · 5 days

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Dear friends: I LOVE YOU 💖💖💖

I don't even know where to start... I feel so HONORED that you've enjoyed my latest post so much 🥹😭💖

Thank you so much for all the comments, and likes, and reblogs, and for recommending it to your followers and friends. I swear I still feel like dreaming and you guys make this feel even better 🥹🥹🥹

@nuctoria @peaches2217 @itsavee4117 @keakruiser @bberetd

@alex-procrastinates @vulpixfairy1985 @hyperfixatingonbowuigisohard @cool-taya @charlie-the-ghost64

@mrs-luigi-vargas @luigitime83 @fandomphantom1 @thedragicloudluigi @canela2001

@wogwoman @imaginativefanatic @nunchukaninja-archive @pepperycar @brave-little-pauper

@thesavagekitten This goes for all of you 👇

I really hope I didn't forget about anyone! 💖💖💖

In all honesty, I never thought this would get this far... It all started with some silly ideas from an avid bookworm who began to see herself reflected in her favorite character and got extremely excited every time she saw him with a book. And, from then... it all came alone, more or less. I've totally poured into Luigi (and the whole post) my own feelings when reading and fangirling over books, for you BET I'm also extremely intense when I'm enjoying a good novel. I simply thought that Luigi would act the same, since I have in common with him that I also get emotional very easily and experiment my own feelings in a very intense way. And it only makes me feel all the way more connected to my beloved boy in green 💚💚💚

So thank you. Thank you for your enthusiasm (I didn't expect that there would be so much anticipation when I shared my teaser post a few days ago!), and for welcoming all my ideas with open arms. I totally enjoyed writing them, and it was definitely something I needed after everything I went through last month. These headcanons have helped me connect with Luigi (and the whole gang) again, which means I totally feel like writing fics again and I just couldn't be happier because I've missed it so much! 🥹🥹🥹 I really hope you're ready, because some of the HCs I've shared today will definitely become written works in the future! And I'll obviously be bringing at last my pending fics! ✨

Of course, I can't leave without giving special thanks to the amazing @itsavee4117 for his lovely post (please go check it! 💖💖💖). Dear friend, it's been such a pleasure to work with you and to see some of my ideas come to life in your gorgeous art style! 🥹 I just LOVE how you've illustrated them, the many details here and there, how expressive and CUTE all the characters look... And of course, seeing our beloved Luigi in a beautiful dress is always such a treat! 💚 I seriously LOVE all of your drawings, but if I had to choose, I'd go with the babies (MY HEART 😭), the Cycle of the Common Reader (Peach and Luigi are so ME in that one!), and of course...

LUAISY 💚🧡

They look so damn CUTE 😭😭😭 I swear, I've enjoyed writing the whole post, but the Luaisy parts were my ABSOLUTE favorite because this couple really owns my heart. And, more specifically, their first Book Day together, with Daisy's purple dress covering Luigi's legs while he tries to read the book he has gifted her... My God, how I ENJOYED writing that. These two cuddling and kissing and sharing their love for literature I just 😭😭😭 I love them.

And then you go and draw this MASTERPIECE and I'm. So dead and happy and crying 😭😭😭😭😭 It's literally my phone wallpaper right now, THANK YOU, thank you for all your drawings, Vee, but especially for this one 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 You made me SO HAPPY 😭😭😭💚🧡✨

Again, thank you everyone for all your love and support! You truly mean EVERYTHING to me 🥹 I still can't get over the fact that what I write not only interests you, but you also enjoy and love it. I'm so elated to be part of such an amazing and wholesome community 💖💖💖

I'm now off to bed, but again, thank you so much for making this the best Book Day I've ever had 🥹🥹🫂🫂 I love you all with all my heart 💖💖💖💖💖

#THANK YOU #I don't deserve you #you're all so GREAT and SWEET #I truly and deeply adore you #thank you so much 🫂💖#Luigi the Bookworm #Book Day #Luaisy #thank you post #silenzahra

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neonacity · 9 months

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Of Love and Lust | Jaemin x Reader | Demigod!AU [An Elysium Special Preview]

Summary: There are a few notable things that Jaemin learned early on in his short, young life. First, beauty can give you anything and anyone, especially if you know how to play your cards right. Second, being wanted and desired is the one true thing everyone strived for, mortal, god, and anyone in between.

He lived by these rules and won every game he played; until finally, he met an unlikely match—the first soul he has ever encountered who didn't throw herself at his feet. Now, Na Jaemin is adding a third in his short list of life learnings.

Rejection is an ugly thing and he has no plans of tasting it, Olympus be damned.

***

A/N: hi! It's been... uhh... months since I posted anything on here. I don't know what got into me but I decided to quickly write something in advance for Jaemin's birthday. YES, I know the concept is cheesy. Yes, I am aware it is cliche. This is more of a practice piece so I don't want to fuss over it too much. Note: this is not proofread.

The official first chapter of this series can be read here and Jeno's version can be found here.

"Hi. I'm here for the interview."

Jaemin looked up from the book he was holding, finger stopping mid-flip as his gaze settled on the owner of the voice. Standing on the threshold of the door was a girl wearing the same uniform that he—of great unfortunate circumstance—had been forced to wear when he was dumped into this school exactly fourteen days, eight hours, and two minutes ago. The visitor returned the same blank stare he gave her and it took him a few seconds to realize what was off with the current situation.

And then it hit him.

She was returning the same BLANK stare that he has. There was not a trace of mildest interest there, not even an inkling of dreaminess that the rest of Rosewood Academy's student body have bestowed upon him the moment he stepped foot into the school of demigods. If anything, she was starting to look mildly irritated as his silence lengthened.

"Is Jeno here?"

Her choice of change in question finally brought Jaemin back to reality. Gathering his wits, he masterfully pushed back the growing curiosity under his well-practiced perfect mask and closed the book he was holding with a snap. The sound of it rang in the room, pointed and lingering.

"Who are you?"

His voice was casual when he answered her question with another one of his. Despite the lack of inflection, however, he didn't miss the way her brows furrowed, as if he just asked her something offensive.

"I'm the president of the Journalism club. Your friend, Jeno, told me to come here this afternoon. He said I can interview him for a story I am developing for the club."

Jaemin didn't even take more than a cycle of breath to understand what was happening. His good friend Jeno is the least sociable of the pack, but this is the reason why the ass was so adamant in turning down his invitation to hang out today in this very room. Now that he thinks about it, he remembers him mumbling something about this student who was trying to harass him about a story for the school paper. What he didn't expect was said student in the form of this miniscule girl in front of him, giving him the coldest stare he had received... probably ever.

Jeno, you bastard son of Hades.

"Look, if he's not here, can you at least tell me where he is?"

This time, she didn't exactly try to downplay the irritation in her voice. Jaemin internally frowned at the way his heart oddly jumped at the tone of it. At the back of his mind, there was a gnawing taste of a strange emotion he couldn't quite put a finger yet. He felt odd, almost uncomfortable—another first for him—so he decided to distract himself by finally standing from his seat.

"He's busy at the moment. If you have any message, I can pass it on to him," he offered as he put his hands on his pockets. The girl in front of him barely blinked even as he stared her down, his eyes trying to search for something on her face. Infatuation. Wonder. Lust. Nothing. Jaemin did pick up an emotion under her facade though, and it took him everything not to burst in laughter when he realized what it is.

Suspicion. Of all things he could stir upon her, it's suspicion.

"Who are you?"

As if she was trying to outdo him in everything, her question made everything so much better, and so much more confusing for him. He'd be damned if he let her know much she caught his interest though. After all, if there is anything Jaemin will never do in his life, it's to grovel for attention.

Slowly and with practiced grace, he tipped his head to the side as he put the full force of his stare on her. He thought he saw her falter a little, but it was too fast, and soon enough, she was back to giving him her deadpanned stare.

When he finally answered her question, he made sure his words lingered in the air. Jaemin's lips curled into a smile that barely hinted at the thoughts in his head.

"Jaemin Na. Son of Aphrodite."

"At your service, love."

#jaemin x reader #jaemin fic #jaemin au #fic: elysium #nct fic #nct dream fic #nct demigod au #nct dream demigod au

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nightswithkookmin · 1 year

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Hey Goldy

Hope u are doing good cos i am not atall. When JK said Be happy even without us and cried on Live. He Literally cried infront of millions of people. Why did it felt like a Good Bye ? My heart is broken. I am sad. I have never thought about being happy without BTS in my life. I know this day will come when Army will have to learn to live and be happy without BTS but not now not anytime soon. I am not ready but what JK did in that Live has left sadness in my heart. I am happy about Set me free pt 2 teaser and been streaming it. Its going to be Legendry. I am excited for Jimin album but my damn mind keeps thinking of JK and his face with tears rolling down is bothering me. I dont know whats going on with him but i am praying to God that it was just Alcohol and nothing more.

I was bopping my head and sobbing along till I read goodbye

Ma'am step away from the light I will not lose you

Saying goodbye to WHOMST???

Not me cos he and I are not done

We have JJK1 to promote, stream and get to number one.

Goodbye, chileee I will move into his basement and ship him from there. now both he and I are uncomfortable staring at eachother cos my fat ass didn't fit under his bed.

Jungkook is not going anywhere hajima😫

Like you said, he switched on live television to cry in front of millions of people. If he had somewhere else to go with his angsty ass he wouldn't be here doing al that 🥴

Imagine being his 'girlfriend' and seeing him shed tears and cry himself to sleep drunk in front of million strangers when he could have come to you and cried and be vulnerable with you so you console him

When I think about all the times Jimin said I was talking with Jungkook, caressing our phones, crying, talking about how I want to be with the members for a very long time- these people have girlfriends my ass

Tae can't relate

I was expecting this around covid and around the time they announced their Solo careers. Seems he didn't give himself time to take it all in and deal and now it's hitting him hard🥴

I think it's good he is processing pent up emotions and externalizing certain thoughts. There are so many things I want to address from that video but will save it for another blog.

He is at the height of his career and he knows it. He's gonna process that somehow, the doubt the uncertainty, the fear, I just hope it doesn't paralyze him. Suga went through a similar phase as did Namjoon. Every artist goes through this.

People think it's easy to step out of the shadows of a big band as BTS and just catapult into the lime light- they should as Zayne Malik💀

As RM said, it's just too many voices telling you you are no good without your bandmates, too many people tearing your self Esteem apart, telling you you will fail, suddenly you are doubting if that song you made is good, wondering if you will become successful etc

For Jungkook I heard him saying all these, raising all these questions and curiosity about a solo career even before they announced it. I don't think it's easy for him. There's a lot of expectations and pressure to excel. Poor thing.

I really wish Jimin was free and had time to cuddle him. He just needs to be spooned. He will be fine 🙂

I think sometimes they don't realize the effect their tears have on us. Especially when they're crying and being sentimental and ominous about your career😫

I don't think it's just the alcohol. There's something going on with him. But i think he will be fine. the fact Namjoon told him to be quick and release his album means he has something in the works which is good. I don't want to analyze him too much cos it will take me away from Jimin.

We love him and I'm sure he feels the love.

The best we can do is support him and assure him we will be here for him whenever he needs us.

I feel Jimin is competing with a lot of people for army's attention. I love the competition but it's becoming ridiculous.

Let's stay focused. Let's learn to prioritize.

When we are done with Face, we have all the time in the world to discuss Jungkook's moody phase.

I want to hug you and tell you everything will be fine

Here's something to cheer you up

youtube

If that don't do it try this🥵

youtube

In a few days he's gonna be dropping an MV that's gonna keep all the girlies active 🥺

That still doesn't cheer you up? Crazy😩

Fine. I'll post a full analysis soon😓

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djarinbarnes · 1 year

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me recordarás - one

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Pairings: Javier Peña x female reader

Rating: Mature

Word count: 4k

Summary: summer has come to an end. you find yourself thrown into a whirlwind of emotions, difficult choices and more adversity, like you’d never believed possible. someone is there to pull you out of it - but it’s not someone you’d ever imagined.

a/n: god I feel like it’s been so long since I've posted. I'm finally back, somehow, and I'm so excited to share everything with you. I’ve enjoyed coming back into this little universe I've created. I hope you'll like it, and please, don’t hesitate to let me know what you think! I’m not ready for this...

SERIES MASTERLIST

Read it on ao3 here

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

A missed period was one thing. It happened to many, without there being a reason for it. Though, a missed period after weeks of unprotected sex with a handsome stranger was giving you an uneasy feeling. After waiting a whole week, you decided that a test was the only thing that could ease your mind.

Even though you didn’t want to believe it at first, the surge of emotions that coursed through your body when the two lines stared back at you from the little stick between your fingers had you convinced.

You were pregnant.

And not by a man you had been seeing for a while, a boyfriend, a husband, no, a man you had a summer fling with, a man you had given your all, a damn womanizer, if his reputation was true. A man who fucked whores for information.

You turned right around on the toilet and fell to your knees, just in time for the contents of your stomach to fall into the toilet. Somehow it was sickening to you. You regretted the whole summer just like that – even though it had been the most amazing weeks of your life.

You hid the test rolled up in some toilet paper, truly not wanting your mother to find it and bug you even more about Javi. You had to figure out what you had to do first, and you already knew it wasn’t going to be easy.

You had literally given him your all. Your first kiss. Your virginity. Your very first I love you. You had opened yourself up to him like you hadn’t ever done with anyone before. Told him secrets that he now was the only other person than you who knew. And now it had all culminated into a situation you’d rather not be in.

You felt betrayed. Especially since he was so hard to get into contact with. You knew it would be a challenge because of his work, but you had expected to talk with him more frequently than once a week for five short minutes. You wanted nothing more than to live out your imagination and expectations, to lie in your bed and talk with him for hours on end, into the early hours of the morning.

“You know how men are. They only want one thing, and that’s to sleep with young, unsuspecting girls like you. He’s no good, and I don’t want you seeing him anymore. He’s going to leave you hanging anyways.”

Your mothers’ words kept resonating in your head. While her words had been a surprise those weeks ago, you were now starting to think that maybe she was right, and that it wasn’t just said in spite to hurt you momentarily. Maybe he was going to leave you hanging, now it was more than a stab to your chest, and it was starting to hurt more than you wanted to admit.

Maybe you should’ve just forgotten him – had an abortion already, so you wouldn’t be stuck with… the little wonderful secret blossoming inside of you, that probably would be the splitting image of their father. You could somehow feel it – that resemblance your baby would have to the tan, beautiful man you’d fallen in love with.

But you were tired. Tired of being let down every time you tried getting in contact with him – you’d gotten Steve on the phone more than once, actually up to ten times, and he told you the same story every time. Javi is busy right now. Is there something I can help you with? I’ll have him call you back when he’s got the time.

His absence brought only one thing. Loneliness.

A feeling somewhat hard to describe… Because loneliness comes in so many different shapes and sizes. Well… Somehow there’s a certain loneliness to every situation there is, and yet nothing feels more all-consuming than the loneliness surrounding you at that exact moment.

Along with the constant twinge in your gut, you had no idea how to keep your emotions in check. Maybe it was just hormones coursing through your body. You just had a feeling there was something more multiplying the emotions.

Leaving your parents’ house after the summer break and going back to your small studio apartment in Center Court was truly an improvement for you – your mother was constantly getting more nosy and was bugging you about Javi. It certainly wasn’t helping your situation, when all you wanted to do was bury yourself six feet under.

You dreaded going back to uni after the summer break. Mainly because your whole mindset was corrupted by the thought of him and your current situation, and you just knew you had no chance of following the syllabus before it was taken care of. You had to talk to Javi somehow, to tell him about your situation and find out what you were going to do about it.

The best spot in your small apartment was currently your bed – it felt like the safest spot for you to be and scrutinize your situation. It was warm and cozy, and your thick duvet comforted you in ways you couldn’t explain. The comforts of your bed brought along another unforeseen consequence – the nagging of your own thoughts.

The spot on the wall where your eyes had been glued to for the past three days had been glared into so intensely, you were afraid the paint was going to chip off under your hardened gaze. It was tough - you knew you had to eat something, but your appetite was little to none.

So, that’s one thing love does. Makes your head spin and your appetite diminish.

You knew you had to do something. If there was something you had done over the last three days, it was think about what to do with the whole situation before the semester started.

With the baby. Your baby. Javi’s baby.

Your heart ached for someone to actually love, and for someone to love you back the same way. A love that came easily, naturally. Just like your love for Javi. He was easy to love and admire, no matter how hard he tried to deny his feelings and apparently fuck his way through and around every obstacle.

“If you want to know things about them… I figured you have to hang around the same people they do. The same women they do.” Javi’s words still nagged in your mind. You knew he had probably had sex with enough women to last a man a decade, and yet he never seemed fully sated. Could you be enough for him?No, shut up. Stupid mind.

You knew you had to tell him. You had to give him a say in the matter, because you respected him that much. No matter how much or how little you wanted to keep it, you didn’t feel like it was your choice to make on your own. And with every day passing, your love and want grew.

Most of the things you were considering was talking against having the baby, with the first being where the father was located. He was so far from you, both location and expectation wise. Maybe even development wise. You reached out your hand and grabbed the crackers from your nightstand, along with the phone.

You needed to try and call him again. He needed to know, and you had to get through to him somehow.

You dialed one of the numbers he had given you and waited patiently while it rung, while pushing a cracker past your lips. It was the only thing you could manage to keep down. Even though the crackers managed to dry out your entire mouth just by looking at them, they were still the most inviting food you could think of.

You felt your heart pick up the pace as the tones kept going off, until you got to the automated voicemail in Spanish, probably asking you to leave a message after the tone.

It seemed like starting to pick apart the problem was even more overwhelming than you had expected, since you started bawling the minute you hung up.

You had no idea what to feel - all the emotions were overwhelming and settling on one out of them all seemed like an impossible task. You decide on trying to get hold of Javi again. You bite your lip before you hold out the phone in front of you yet again, and dialing the other number Javi gave you.

The fucking Embassy. You felt like a childish stalker as you patiently waited for someone, anyone, to pick up the damn phone. A click sounded, before his voice filled your ears, for the first time in… what felt like a very long time.

“Peña.” It felt like all the air had left your lungs, and the whole speech you had prepared to get into touch with him had disintegrated into thin air the second you had heard his voice. You were instantly thrown back into your fantasies, the recollection of his hands on your skin - your hips, your waist, your neck, his lips against yours.

“¿Quién es?” You could hear the impatience in his tone, and you knew you had to speak up sooner or later, or he would hang up on you. He was an impatient man after all, and he was probably busy.

“Javi,” Your voice was shaky when you finally managed to mutter out his name. “It’s… me.” You breathe in, closing your eyes at the relaxing feeling of the air being let back into your lungs. You could feel your body missing him, the presence of him already. You shut your eyes tightly at the sound of him sucking in a breath on the other end.

You didn’t know what kind of breath it was. Was it an I miss you, I’m sorry I haven’t gotten properly in touch with you since you left Colombia? Or was it an in all just a Fuck, not you again, stop trying to get in touch with me, I’ve got other, more important things to do?

At this point you didn’t even know which of those two you wished for it to be at this point. It would be easier if he just ignored the fact that you even existed. Well, easier for him, that is. This wasn’t ever just going to be easy for you anymore. You were bound to him one way or another. You weren’t ever going to forget this point in your life.

“Hermosa.” And then everything disintegrated yet again. The wall you had been building along with the fake scenarios you had been making up in your head simply vanished in that moment, and the whole slate was wiped clean. You hated he had such power over you, with just one simple word. It was like you could feel his gaze on you. His breath fanning over your face and his hands hovering over your skin.

“I’ve been thinking about you. A lot.” You open your eyes at his voice telling you just what you needed to hear. “I’m sorry hermosa. For not getting in touch sooner.” You lift the hand not holding the phone to your heart, somehow trying to keep it from beating out of your chest. “We really need to talk.”

“It’s alright.” It’s barely a whisper, but you know he hears you nonetheless, from the way he starts going on about how much of an asshole he’s been, and how sorry he is, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice. You don’t know how long he spends apologizing, if it’s just a few seconds or a minute, but you cut him off.

“I need to talk to you about something.” Your voice is shaky as you hear his flood of words come to a halt. The silence between the two of you in those short seconds is deafening. An awful number of thoughts manages to run through your head in the span of barely any time. You feel like he knows already, yet he isn’t telling you if he does.

“I really don’t wanna do it over the phone.” You lean back against your pillow, looking up into the ceiling as you mentally prepare yourself for what’s to come next. “I really need to see you, Javi. It’s been almost two months.”

You hear papers being ruffled on the other end of the phone, and you bite your lip as you await his answer. What if he didn’t want to see you again? You really had no idea what you were going to do, no matter what the two of you ended up agreeing on.

“I need to see you. It might be possible for me to get some additional leave within the next week.” You hear him lighting a cigarette on the other end, and you close your eyes, imagining him as the cigarette hangs between his lips while he talks. “I’ll come see you.”

You hear him inhale, followed by a deep exhale, and you find yourself dreaming back to the few times he’d blow the smoke into your mouth ever so sinfully. You let out a silent whimper, your thoughts already taking you further and further away from reality. If you could just daydream for the rest of your life, everything would be so much easier.

“Hermosa?” his voice pulls you out of your trance, and you breathe out a sigh. “I got your postcard.” You smile softly. Your heart was pounding heavily behind your ribcage at the thought of him holding it, looking at it, thinking of you.

“Yeah?” You manage to breathe out, before you let your hand travel down to rest on your stomach. That meant he now knew where you lived. “I’m in Miami now. Back for the start of the semester.”

You hear Javi ruffle some papers again. “I’ll talk to the director today. Let her know what the plan is. Then I’ll call you back, alright? I promise.” You close your eyes as the feeling of tears welling up comes back for another moment. Don’t make promises you can’t keep. You wanted to tell him that, but somehow you couldn’t allow yourself to say it.

“Okay Javi.” You bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from crying. You have so many suppressed feelings coming to the surface right at that moment, and your whole body desperately wanting to give in and let out all of the emotions you’ve been containing, but you really didn’t want to flood Javi with it, giving he’s at work. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“I’ll see you soon, hermosa. I miss your beautiful face.” You can hear the smile playing on his lips, and you stifle a giggle. You hear his name being called on the other end, and you know you must let the moment pass for now. He’d already given you a lot of his time. “I love you. Talk soon.”

You barely manage to say the words back to him before he’s hung up the phone, and you once again throw your head back against your pillow. Now there was a possibility that you could see Javi the following week. God, you wish it would happen. You needed to see him. You didn’t know what part of you longed for him most – your heart, your mind, your lust, or your conscience.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

“Peña.” His voice sounded nothing like she had expected. It was definitely a mature voice - a voice that had been strained from many years of usage. She could also hear the roughness that had probably come from smoking countless cigarettes. No good sign, so far.

“I’m calling on behalf of my daughter.” She stated into the phone, and she heard the man hold his breath on the other end of the line. “I don’t know what you have told her or what the two of you have been doing, but I know one thing. You’re going to leave my daughter alone and pay for what you have caused.” There was no tremble in her voice as she spoke to him.

“Ma’am, I have no idea wha-“ Javi started, but was cut off by the pitched voice of the woman on the other end.

“You have no id- oh my lord. How can you be so selfish? Or was she just an easy target for you to sink your predatory fingers into?” She spat back, feeling the heat of her flash of anger spread from her cheeks and into the skin of her chest.

“My sweet girl has been defiled by a man who won’t even take responsibility for his actions. I don’t know how you sleep at night, knowing a young woman is now on a crash course because you decided you needed some young meat to settle your urges with! I am disgusted beyond words!” The words resonated within his mind, and Javi felt his mouth run dry.

“Ma’am…” his fingers rubbed over his forehead, trying to relieve the tension drawing in his eyebrows. “If this is about this summer with your daughter, I reassure you that every intention I had was good. I would never, and didn’t force anything upon your daughter.” He heard the woman huff on the other line and decided to speak up again before she could start.

“Those weeks I spent with your daughter were some of the best in my life, and believe me when I say I would let nothing bad happen to her. With all due respect ma’am, I have no idea what you’re talking about.�� Javi heard her sputtering again before retracting the phone from his ear - her voice still clear as day as she screamed into the phone. Javi felt his attention slowly dissolving into nothing.

“You son of a! She’s barely entered her twenties and you… oh my. Are you a complete imbecile?” Javi halfway agreed with her, barely listening. His eyes landed on what his pen was scribbling on, and he muttered out a ‘shit’, noticing what he had been doodling on. He held the phone between his head and shoulder, removing the important information he had just ruined… a little.

“She is pregnant! You do know what happens when two people take the Lord’s name in vain before marriage?! You are dishonoring our beliefs!” Javi sighed and, against his good will, barely continued listening with half an ear to your mother’s spew of profanities. “You have sinned! You have taken the innocence of an unsuspecting young woman!”

If Javi hadn’t been listening before, he certainly was trying to recall what your mother had just said. It couldn’t be. Your mother continued talking, and Javi could hear her voice going through many different emotions while she switched between weeping and screaming.

“Ma’am I’m gonna have to call you back…” Javi slowly ended the call before drawing out a cigarette and lighting it with no emotion. Steve looked up at Javi from his paperwork, having listened in on a bit of their conversation, calling out his name.

Javi’s eyes met Steve’s over the table between them, and it felt like a drum was being pounded upon inside his head. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. He hoped to God it wasn’t true. It sounded harsh, but it was definitely a situation he didn’t want to find himself in.

Javi didn’t know how to feel. Or rather, he didn’t want to. He reached into the cabinet below the desk and pulled out the bottle he’d been storing in the darkness of the confined space, silently wishing he magically would fit in there as well.

Steve was watching him from behind some paperwork, having gained a little insight into the phone call Javi had just received. Somehow, Steve already knew. You could call it a gut feeling, or just the fact that Steve truly knew his partner. He just hadn’t expected this situation to become a reality.

Steve felt sorry for the man on the opposite side of the desk as he watched him screw off the lid and gulp down some of the brown liquid. Then he followed the tan hand as it reached into the pocket of the jacket slung over the armrest of the chair Javi was seated in, and watched as a cigarette appeared between the long fingers.

He watched in silence as the tip of the cigarette disappeared under the curtain of the brown mustache, eyes flickering to where nimble fingers flipped open a zippo and lighting the bared, encapsulated leaves of the tobacco. Silently, Steve wished for Javi to open up to him. He was tired of the way his colleague always shut himself up like a clam when something happened.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” The smoke left Javi’s lips along with the words, and Steve couldn’t help but laugh. Javi’s eyes darted to Steve’s face, taking in the way the skin around his eyes drew up into crinkles, as he smiled at the older man.

“I have to go see her.” Javi breathed, cigarette smoke twisting its way around his words as he spoke. Steve nodded, understanding with the little context given. It was routine by now. He knew Steve knew him like the back of his hand, no matter how reluctant Javi was to admit it.

“You can stay with us. No rush. I’m sure Con would be delighted to have you staying.” Steve was transferring back to Miami, and the two colleagues were wrapping up some last minute ties in Medellín before Steve’s departure the following week.

Connie had moved back to Florida the year before, leaving with their adopted daughter to ensure their safety, and Steve had decided to stay. It had taken a lot of convincing on Connie’s end, but Steve had finally given in and was moving back to the states after two years in Colombia.

Javi, on the other hand, had no intentions on moving back to the states in the near future. Maybe because all he had was his father and some broken relationships to people from his past, or because, no matter where he was, he never felt like he properly fit in.

He never felt like he could do his job right, meet the right people or even spend his time right. That was, until he met you. In the short period of time you were in Colombia, you managed to give him a feeling of belonging - something very foreign to him.

He loved the few days when he got to go home to you. He loved the feeling of coming home to someone, and having someone who actually admired him, talked with him, laughed with him, and didn’t judge him for his line of work.

Javi had to admit it - dating, as a federal agent, was hard. There was the unforgiving hours of work, there were unforgiving people wanting to hurt him and the people around him, and then there was the way of getting information in the god-forsaken country of Colombia.

Sometimes, Javi wishes he could get lost. Lost, and having no responsibility. Maybe just disappear? It would definitely be easier that way. Especially right now. Javi secretly wished he would just melt into a puddle and be dried off the floor by the cleaning lady.

What the hell was he supposed to do with a baby? Was he supposed to bring you into this life? Was he supposed to bring a baby into this life? He never knew if he was safe, if the people around him were safe. He could already see you kidnapped, beaten up, what was worse. He couldn’t lose you that way.

He felt a hand land on his shoulder, and it pulled him out of the spiraling of his own thoughts. He looked up at Steve, who offered him a warm smile. “It’ll be alright, man.” Javi leaned forward and rested his head in his hands, letting out a deep sigh.

He needed to figure this situation out. And quickly.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

next chapter

#javier peña #Javier Pena #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #Javier Peña #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena imagine #me recordarás #pedro #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x you #Pedro Pascal

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bonebabbles · 9 months

Note

So since my rose-colored Gray Wing glasses have been torn of my face and stomped into tiny pieces, I’m now wondering if my perception of Clear Sky’s arc is also skewed. I thought his redemption arc was well done (until Star Flower came back) because he was sincerely trying, wasn’t expecting forgiveness, and (unlike a lot of redemption arcs) was not forgiven by most of the characters right away because of how bad his actions were. Until he got with Star Flower, I thought his redemption arc was damn near perfect. Do I have on rose-colored glasses for his redemption arc?

Clear Sky's "redemption arc" is one of the most incompetent bits of writing that has ever blighted the entire series and I promise you I'm not doing hyperbole. It is so bad that it drags down everything it touches, including Gray Wing, Thunder, Acorn Fur, and the entire concept of StarClan.

And, unfortunately, both things you cited there absolutely did not happen, I am going to have to eat your glasses. I'm gonna munch. I'm gonna cRUNCH

"He was sincerely trying"

He wasn't. He just stopped actively shredding random people on his border and then whines that he's "Trying So Hard," using it as yet another guilt trip tactic because he's still an abuser.

The SECOND anyone gives him any criticism (FOR BRINGING A WIFEBEATER INTO HIS CLAN MIND YOU), he twists the fact they're supposed to "forgive him" against them, starts calling Gray Wing slurs for having asthma, and gets offended at a warning while huffing, "no one tells me what to do!"

Like a big fucking baby

And he only let Tom into his clan (even implying he's not a REAL cat because he's fat + an ex-kittypet) because he promised he could show him how to "fight dirty."

AND ALSO he is fully aware that this man kidnapped children in a previous book; but Blazing Star completely forgets major details of the previous three books in a way that is absolutely unacceptable. You are practically reading a new continuity.

"He was not forgiven by the other characters right away"

He was. He was literally, immediately forgiven in the very opening of Blazing Star. By Gray Wing and Thunder, because the narrative decided that Everyone Is Responsible.

Even back in First Battle, right after the fight ends we get a line that gives Bramblestar a run for his money. "WE let it get too far." The narrative even scrambles for some reason to make a woman responsible and grabs Tall Shadow for some fucking reason.

Acorn Fur doesn't even mention that CLEAR SKY WAS STARVING HER FATHER before she decides to move in with him, because she would miss her parents too much on the moor... those parents who just died. In the battle Clear Sky started.

Everyone immediately forgives him and kisses his butt because "The guilt will hurt him more than any actual consequences :((( He was just under so much pressure of leading guys.... which is why he should continue to lead............"

I've actually had a hard time continuing my reread because I've actually been fucking enraged at how Thunder is swooning over his daddy "finally looking at him" uwu

This is painted like a good thing. This is a sweet and nice thing that finally, the abusive ghoul who shoved his face into a festering wound and said he shouldn't have been born just before trying to kill him and all of his friends 'respects him.' Oh Joyous Day Yippee Hooray!

How this ruins the other characters

It destroys Gray Wing because it makes ALL this dogshit behavior that he displayed for the first three books correct. In spite of how GOD awful this "Redemption Arc" is, you are supposed to believe that there is good "deep down" within Clear Sky. That all of this abuse apologia was wisdom. Gray was, and IS, right to take every insult and understand it as humility, and the Clear Sky on the page is actually a Good Boi who Really Does Love His Clan.

It ruins Thunder because even after ALL of that physical and emotional abuse and neglect, he's still supposed to honor Clear Sky as "You'll always be my father." These destructive impulses to want his approval are good and natural in this narrative, not something to confront or fundamentally question.

Fuck, just look at the Tom Redemption. The writers LOVE abusive parents. Even if they beat the shit out of your mom, get her killed, kidnap you, and had no part in raising you, "they still love you and would die for you." Tom's Redemption and Clear Sky's Redemption are just different lines in the same song.

Acorn Fur moves in with the guy who held one of her parents hostage and ultimately got both of them killed

And STARCLAN forms to "tell clear sky what to do," because in the baffling Fear vs Greed Dichotomy this series thinks is some kind of thesis, Clear Sky was just "afraid," not "greedy," and that means his fucked up little head can be fixed by the comfort a religious force can bring. He wasn't abusive because he loves having power over people, the thing that is right there on the page, nope, he really was just worried about death or responsibility or something.

This isn't even getting to the person he is in later material. He's a MONSTER in Moth Flight's Vision, as if his growth never happened.

And this is taking him all at face value-- in a meta sense, the sheer amount of female characters that get brutalized just for his man pain is legitimately dizzying. 2 mates die, 2 innocent women slaughtered, a child beaten and another starved to death, and even pregnant Star Flower gets pinned to the ground and licked on the face as her assaulter talks about how much he wanted her as a mate

This is the worst arc in the entire Warrior Cats franchise and it is spinning on the crap-axis that is Clear Sky's 'redemption'.

The arc is bad BECAUSE it is working towards this idea, that the best villain the series ever wrote has to become the writer's Poor Little Meow Meow halfway through 6 books, so we can get to our regularly scheduled Born Evil Foreigner Villains Who Hate Love And Friendship.

Imagine TPB but Fireheart cries that self defense against Clanborn cats makes you Just As Bad, Tigerstar was just scared or something, and you get two Diet Scourges. That's DOTC.

#dotc hate #tw abuse #tw fatphobia #tw domestic abuse

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0shewrites0 · 2 years

Text

ALL YOUR LIES

S2 | Kassam/MC (Aaliyah in this case because it’s gonna be a chapter in Seamless) | 2500+ words | @0shewrites0

summary | The Islanders are nearing the end of the month, the couples are pretty much set by now, and what better time than to throw in a lie detector test to heat things up? Kassam and Aaliyah are having a blast, sparks are flying like crazy, but they're not there yet - they haven't admitted to each other that they have feelings for each other. And could there be more secrets just waiting to be revealed through this challenge?

prompt | my submission to the Lie Detector Challenge Prompt @litgwritersroom

what to expect | Angst. And more angst.

note | Maybe you won't understand all the references, but then you'll just have to read the whole fic. The first two chapters are already online and I plan to upload weekly.

quote | “Trust is like a mirror, you can fix it if it's broken, but you can still see the crack in that mother fucker's reflection.” - Lady Gaga

Aaliyah sat on the chair next to the lie detector in the Hideaway, the cables and electrodes attached to her and she was sweating like crazy. She knew she had nothing to hide, and yet she was afraid that she would get so worked up in her emotions that she would accidentally lie. She desperately wanted Kassam to trust her because she knew his trust was so fragile.

Noah smiled encouragingly at her, and that should have reassured her, but it didn't. It also didn't help that all the islanders were sitting in the lounge watching her closely. Especially Kassam with his intense, piercing gaze. Through the damn camera set up in the corner of the room to her left, she could basically feel his eyes on her, and it sent nervous shivers down her spine. She swallowed hard and nodded, "Just start."

And Noah did. "Kassam's first question to you is, 'Did you have feelings for Lucas?'" He looked up at her expectantly.

Aaliyah shook her head confidently and answered, "No."

The screen to her right flashed green and she could read the word 'truth' on it.

Noah gave her a thumbs up and she exhaled in relief. Maybe this wasn't so bad.

"Alright, next question, 'Did you really like me for myself from the beginning and not just for my fame?'"

And again, Aaliyah confidently answered, "Yes."

Of course she had liked him for himself. He had been so different and had immediately caught her attention. And now that she knew him - really knew him - how could she not like him that much more?

The screen flashed green again and Aaliyah hummed contentedly. But then Noah read Kassam's third question, and suddenly she knew she was fucked.

"'Are you still keeping your promise to tell me as soon as you fall in love with me?'"

Because no, she hadn't kept that promise. She had fallen in love with him and she was falling in love with him all over again every day. It had taken her such a long time to even admit that to herself. But to muster up the courage to tell him? That was a completely different story.

Why? She was afraid of falling in love with him without him falling in love with her too.

What if she had told him and he had hesitated for that split second, where you just knew? Where you knew everything you needed to know? She wouldn't have been able to cope with that. So she had thought it safer to keep it a secret. To enjoy their time together and not bring feelings into it.

That was always easier.

"Aaliyah?" Noah's soft voice snapped her out of her thoughts and she panicked. "Your answer?"

She nodded quickly and decided to do the only thing she could to hide her true feelings, hoping and praying to the gods that the polygraph wouldn't pick up on her lie. "Yes," she replied quietly, just barely resisting the urge to squeeze her eyes shut. She didn't want to see the result because she knew what was coming. And she knew that Kassam would know now, too.

And as predicted, the screen turned blood red and the three letters "L-I-E" literally screamed at her,

LIAR!

She felt her cheeks flushing and suddenly wanted to hide somewhere. Anywhere. She wanted to dissolve into vapour and just disappear. Her face burned and when she looked at Noah, he had raised an eyebrow as if silently accusing her of lying about something so important. But that was exactly why she had wanted to keep it to herself. Because it was that important and she wasn't ready to tell him. Or anyone, for that matter. She wasn't sure she could ever have told him, not without the certainty that he would say it back. That he had fallen for her just as hard.

She didn't dare look at the camera, so she averted her eyes and stared at her hands clenching in her lap.

Finally Noah cleared his voice and said, "You have two more questions. Are you ready?"

Aaliyah looked up in surprise. "What?"

Noah just nodded and began to read, "Lottie asks, 'Have you been faithful to Kassam all this time and not wanted to get with someone else?'"

Aaliyah just nodded dazedly and whispered, "Yes." Of course she had been loyal. There was no one here who could make her feel the way Kassam made her feel.

She barely noticed the screen turn green before Noah asked the last question. “Anonymous said, ‘If someone you once had feelings for came back into your life - would those feelings surface again and would you leave Kassam for that person?’”

Aaliyah frowned and stared at Noah in disbelief. Who would ask her such a question? She shook her head and answered firmly, "No. Absolutely not."

The screen flashed green one last time and she took a deep breath. Finally, this was over and done with.

Noah smiled at her, "Well done, Aaliyah." Then he nodded towards the door and said, "You can go now."

Relieved, Aaliyah disconnected the electrodes and stood up. She left the Hideaway and walked across the lawn to the kitchen where the other islanders, who had already answered their questions, were gathered around a small iPad watching everything that happened in that room. Marisol looked up as she approached and smiled reassuringly at her. As Aaliyah took a seat next to her, she murmured, "That was intense, huh?"

Aaliyah sighed and nodded, "You can say that again..."

Marisol put her hand on her back and rubbed it in even circles. Aaliyah knew her fingers were itching to ask the all-important question, but she kept her mouth shut, for which Aaliyah was very grateful. She was dreading the moment she had to speak to Kassam and she needed a few moments to collect her thoughts.

"Oh," Chelsea squeaked, pointing at the iPad, "Kassam is up now. Look, Lia!"

Aaliyah lifted her head and stared at the small screen, eager to see how he would do. As much as she was on a rollercoaster of emotions at the moment, it wasn't over yet. The questions she had prepared for him were just as intense.

Noah read the first question out loud. “Aaliyah wants to know, ‘Was it your original plan to make me fall in love with you, only to dump me right after the show?’”

They hadn't talked about it, but it only made sense because he had told her he had wanted to prove that Love Island's concept of finding love on a reality TV show was all wrong. She wasn't surprised when he answered “yes” and the screen turned green. It wasn't in Kassam's nature to lie. Not about something so important.

“About something so important.”

The thought flashed through her like a lightning bolt and she winced. But she had done it - she had lied about 'something so important' and she felt terrible about it.

"Next question: 'Is that still your plan?'"

Kassam didn't even hesitate and answered firmly, "No." He seemed as cool and calm as ever, and if her lie had upset him, he didn't let on. Aaliyah admired that, but her heart started beating a little faster when the screen turned green again, which could only mean that he liked her.

Right?

Maybe he had even fallen in love with her? She nibbled her bottom lip and thought, That just means he's not playing with me, doesn't it? At least he doesn't want to hurt me, and why should he care if not because he really likes me?

She thought of all the times she had noticed this softness in his voice that he normally didn't have and only showed when he was talking to her. It gave her a fuzzy feeling inside and warmed her so much.

Noah's voice snapped her out of her thoughts and she focused on what he was saying. "'Was there any other reason why your last relationship destroyed you like that, besides her cheating on you?'"

Oh yeah... She couldn't help feeling that Kassam hadn't told her the whole truth. She knew that his ex had been cheating on him with one of his best mates for quite a while and that when he had broken up with her, she had told him that she had stopped loved him for a long time too. Aaliyah knew how much that had hurt him and how it had led to him not believing in love anymore. That he no longer wanted to love or even be loved. But she sensed that wasn't all there was. There was a piece of the puzzle missing and she felt she had a right to know.

Kassam hesitated for a moment before slowly nodding his head, only confirming what Aaliyah had already suspected.

There is another reason...

She looked at his face, his angsty eyebrows and cold eyes, and she knew that whatever it was - it was big. Huge, even.

But she couldn't think about it any further because Noah spoke up again. "There are three more questions. One from Lottie and two anonymous ones."

Kassam only raised her eyebrows, but signalled him to continue.

"Lottie wants to know, 'When you said my name at the beginning of Casa Amor - basically telling me you fancied me - did you mean it?'"

Aaliyah raised an eyebrow as well. Casa Amor had been so long ago, why did she even bother? Was it just because she couldn't believe Kassam had chosen Aaliyah over her? She shook her head in disbelief. She was with Gary now and they seemed happy. Right?

When she looked at Gary out of the corner of her eye, he had a frown on his face and a sour expression. "Why does she even care..." he muttered to himself and Graham patted him consolingly on the shoulder. But Gary just snorted, snatched Graham's hand away and hissed, "I don't need your pity."

Aaliyah turned her attention back to the iPad and watched as Kassam shook his head. If she looked closely, she could see the corners of his mouth twitch and she couldn't stop a smug grin from spreading across her face.

"And that's... the truth," Noah commented, nodding at Kassam.

"Next question, 'Did you have a sex dream about someone other than Aaliyah at any point in the villa?'"

Kassam snorted, "Who asked that?"

Noah shrugged, "Doesn't say. It's anonymous."

Kassam scoffed. "Yeah, no, I know exactly who asked that. Someone can't help but keep calling me out on my supposedly bad fuckboy habits, am I right, Hope?" He turned his head to stare at the camera and Aaliyah's grin widened even more. She could just imagine Hope's face turning so red she would need a cooling shower.

"Then watch me tell you the truth once and for all," Kassam continued, still staring into the camera, "No, I did not have a sex dream about anyone other than Lia."

Immediately the screen flashed green, but Kassam didn't even look at it.

He looked so sure of himself that it made Aaliyah's stomach heat up. Not that she had ever doubted him, but to have it confirmed by him once again was hot.

Heat crept up her cheeks and she bit her lip. Marisol noticed and nudged her teasingly, "You're a lucky girl, babe."

Aaliyah chuckled and shrugged nonchalantly.

Noah cleared his throat, at which Kassam tilted his head in his direction.

"Okay, here's the last question. Again from anonymous. ‘If your ex came back to you and said she was sorry and wanted you back and that she still loved you - would you consider giving her another chance?’”

Something in Kassam's demeanour changed. His eyes became hollow - almost numb - and his jaw tightened.

And Aaliyah couldn't help but wonder, Who knows about his ex? After all, he only told me!

"No," he groaned out through clenched teeth, and it sounded hard and determined. But Aaliyah couldn't help noticing the insecurity that resonated in his voice. He didn't sound as confident and sure now as he had seconds before. And when the screen turned red and she knew he had lied, her heart sank.

Lie. It's a lie.

Chelsea gasped audibly and gave Aaliyah a look that made her heart tighten painfully.

No, no, no, no. This can't be true!

But when she looked at the iPad again, the screen was still red. Especially now that he basically knew she had fallen in love with him because she had involuntarily told him through the lie detector, it hurt.

Her fear of not being loved back turned into sheer panic and her body began to shake uncontrollably. Her fingers felt frozen and she could no longer move. When she tried to draw in a breath, it sounded more like a pathetic sob. Everyone around her turned to look at her - sympathy and pity were etched on their faces - but that only made her want to retch. She was staring at the small screen in front of her again when she noticed Kassam look up in shock and turn his head to look back at the camera. It felt like he was looking her straight in the eye, and the look he gave her sent a chill down her spine. His eyes looked panicked, almost haunted - like a deer caught in the headlights of a car at night - but he also looked genuinely shocked and confused. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Then he jerked his head around and snapped at Noah, "What do you mean it's a lie? There's no way in hell I'd give her another chance!"

His voice sounded upset and seriously pissed off, but Noah just shook his head weakly and muttered, "I'm afraid that's exactly what it says."

For a moment Kassam just stared at him, but it seemed more like he was staring right through him, then he got up from his seat, ripped the electrodes off his body and slowly walked out of the room. Aaliyah shuddered as she realised she had never seen him so angry. The way he had powerfully but calmly ripped off the wires and strode so elegantly out of the room was alarming. Because she knew how much he could freak out and how loud he could get - he had shown it with Lucas. But this was different now. He was eerily quiet. Too quiet. And she knew what people were saying - you can tell how dangerous a person is by the way they quietly hold in their anger.

She shuddered again, but froze abruptly as she realised that he was only so angry because he had realised that he could try to fool her, but never a lie detector. The polygraph had called him out, and now there was no turning back. Her vision blurred and her eyes welled up with tears.

Was this it? Did they even stand a chance? Had they ever had one?

#litg s2 #litg #litg kassam #litg fanfic #kassam x mc #litg writers room #lie detector test #angst prompt

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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 7 months

Text

Pedantic, chapter one - a Malevolent AU

Arthur Lester is the best IT architect in the world, and the reason Carcosa, Inc. has its fingers in every pie. Government, medical, everyone in the world uses its systems.

Arthur is also going blind, with a rare genetic condition that can’t be fixed.

The looming depression is bad. He can’t imagine a life where he can’t create anymore. Arthur nearly gives up… until a deeply annoying cybersecurity programmer prods him into trying something new.

Great, right? Now, if only this John Doe weren’t clearly hiding something so wild that not even PI Parker Yang can dig it out…

Chapter One: Time for a bet.

AO3

----------

Arthur couldn’t see his view.

He knew it was good. He could still see when picking out the penthouse three years ago. He also knew it was a complete waste for him to hang on to this view now when he couldn’t see it, but he didn’t give a fuck. It felt like revenge against whatever force saw fit to do this to him, by depriving some other bastard of a view like this.

I’m telling you, it isn’t compliant, the robotic voice in his head said, synthesizing that fucking American’s words in the least emotional manner possible.

Arthur had never heard John’s actual voice, but was certain it wasn’t emotionless. “It does. I checked it against CIC standards, and YTM, and even the elusive Carney and Dobbs scale. You’re wrong.”

No, you are, argued the distant engineer.

Arthur didn’t have time for this. “Listen, Mister Doe, it is two o’clock in the morning here. I know damn well what I sent you works. So the problem is on your end, and I expect you to figure it out. ”

Silence. A long moment of silence.

Arthur knew precisely two things about John Doe. One, he was some sort of security whiz, capable of sniffing out backdoors and potential risks before even the pro hackers did, and two, John Doe absolutely hated his guts.

It was personal. Had to be. He never agreed to anything, always dragged out every damned conversation. Damned pedantic son of a bitch.

Finally, an answer: I think you need to check your code.

Check his code! Arthur did not need to check his code. “Excuse me?”

Check your code.

“No. It is two o’clock in the morning here, Doe.”

It is noon here, Lester. I have four hours to get this implemented. If you don’t fix your fucking code, I will.

And there we go. Pointless threats. Inappropriate language.

The sucky thing was, while normally altering code like this without approval would be enough to get someone fired, John Doe could get away with it.

Doe had come out of nowhere; Arthur had never heard of him, and he’d made no waves, but boom, old Hastur had promoted him to chief of cybersecurity for the whole company, and evidently paid him enough to live comfortably in the Upper East Side, Manhattan.

And Arthur had to admit: Doe was some kind of golden boy. He knew his stuff. It may feel like he sprang fully-formed from Hastur’s head, but he knew cybersecurity. It was like he had a fucking pipeline to the bad guys, the way he was able to spot exploits before anyone else could grab hold.

What Doe didn’t know was art. Or beauty. Or utility. Or any of the things Arthur’s entire life had revolved around since he was twelve and used Python to design his first Linux GUI.

Arthur sighed. He turned away from his glass walls and wraparound balcony, from the view of Melbourne at night which he could not see, and made his way to his computer.

His monitor—enormous, because all the text had to be, as well—booted up, and he sighed as he entered the usual frustrating and painful balance of trying to focus, squinting, dealing with the pain of the monitor’s brightness (without which he couldn’t see the damn screen) and adjusting the size of the text until he could handle it and read through what he’d written.

Gods, this was a gorgeous design. Lullabye, he called it, because it was designed to help after a DDOS attack, to put all relevant and endangered systems right to sleep, cutting off access, stopping whatever invasion was going on right in its tracks.

It was flawless. It was efficient. It was beautiful. It was a hell of a major project to go out on.

He could not spot whatever put Doe in a tizzy. Fuck.

The easy solution would be to give Doe permission to patch it, requiring detailed notes of what changes he made.

The medium-hard solution would be to give him permission to patch it, but live, with Arthur sharing his screen, so Doe couldn’t do anything unmonitored (and maybe Arthur could finally understand how Doe thought).

The dangerous solution was to refuse him, foment more conflict for no pay out, and watch Doe have his way, anyway.

Damn it. But it’s perfect, he thought, unable to keep from whining a little.

Arthur sighed. Carcosa had been good to him. Hastur had rewarded his artistry over and over. The ungrateful thing would be not to trust Doe. “Fine,” Arthur muttered. “Cassilda, email John Doe.”

Emailing, she replied through the implants in his head, voice as musical as he designed her to be, damn near singing.

“Permission granted to make changes to the code as long as we do a screenshare and all changes are approved by me. Send.”

Silence for a moment.

About fucking time, Lester. Here’s my number. Text is fucking faster.

This guy knew his stuff, but he did not know how to be fucking appropriate in a fucking business setting. “Is he serious?” Arthur said. Maybe he did spring fully-formed from Hastur’s head, he snorted. Being a year old would explain it all. “Reply: If you’re trying to cover your ass legally, that won’t work with a company phone.” It was both sarcasm and a warning. Also, logic. Touché!

Arthur’s smugness lasted all of the 60 seconds it took for Doe to receive and reply: I have my own personal phone and so do you. Don’t be a dick. Let’s get this done.

How did… What? Why did Doe know that? “I’m not a dick,” Arthur muttered, trying to decide if this was a great big personal information violation, or…

Well, it was, but did it really matter? He could change the number. Block Doe. Whatever he wanted to do here. And it would be quicker. The Hyades global network was faster than any email because Arthur had helped design it. (Hastur had given him an incredible bonus that year.) “Cassilda, send Doe my phone number.” Okay, why had he done that? Why? “Because I’m not a dick,” he answered himself. “I’m an idiot.”

The reply took literally as long as Doe needed to save the contact to his phone. Nice to meet you.

“We haven’t met yet, Doe,” said Arthur, replying through Cassilda.

Call me John. Now let’s fix this code.

“Damn you, there’s nothing to fix!”

An exclamation mark! A swear word! Looks like I finally got some emotion out of you.

Arthur gaped at nothing. “I will have you know that you get plenty of emotion from me. Primarily, frustration.”

Glad to know you’re not frigid. Okay, I’m sending the screenshare request now.

“Frigid? What the fuck… Wait, wait, give me a moment. Got it, got it. You prick.”

Better believe I am. Now, pay attention. Line 1004. Doe—John—read the code to him via text, because Cassilda would read it next.

Arthur paled. It had a typo.

He couldn’t see the typo. The font showed the difference between a lower-case l and a numeral 1, but he couldn’t see it.

He leaned in, face nearly to the monitor, peering. The serifs might as well have all been erased.

See it? Good. Next we’ll jump down to line 8524.

Arthur didn’t reply. He swallowed.

It was another typo, but this one… he didn’t need to know this was the big one. The typo on 1004 just rendered that bit of code inoperable; nothing would happen. But this one…

This one. Instead of a semi colon, it was a colon, which meant…

This is the big one, said John unnecessarily. Arthur didn’t reply. This one means this process keeps running, and the particular ping it creates to find the invading bug also leaves it open to malicious injection.

“I was right,” Arthur whispered, because he had been. He’d thought, deep down, this would be his last major project.

About what?

Arthur hadn’t meant to send that. He leaned back in his chair, reducing the familiar, beloved language on the screen to blurry dots and squiggles, and was surprised to find he was crying. He wiped his face, furious. “Nothing.”

Tell me. It could be relevant.

Fuck him. “It’s not relevant.”

It might be. We’re getting this fixed so you can go to bed and I can go get drunk. Come on, Lester.

He sighed. “Arthur. Just Arthur.”

All right, Just Arthur. What were you right about?

Arthur checked. Cassilda confirmed that “just” had been capitalized. Like receiving a knighthood, or something.

He laughed weakly. “Didn’t know you were funny, Doe.” A pause. “John.”

Only when it’s worth my while.

So… well, this moment was certainly worth his while. They had three hours left to implement this thing. “Just that this was my last big hurrah. That’s all. I knew. I knew it. Just didn’t want to know it, if you get what I mean.”

Why the hell had he said that?

Arthur sighed. There was no undo send with Hyades and the Carcosa phone line (Dancer—it had long put Apple out of business). It was better, Arthur believed and had argued, to have a record of communication, even when things were sent by accident. Better to have that record, legal and powerful, then try to handle the fallout of removed knowledge and the potential for deceit.

It doesn’t have to be, fucking hell.

That made him laugh for some reason. “Right. Sure.”

It doesn’t. I’m guessing the coding doesn’t work so great with Cassilda for you?

No, it had not worked with Cassilda. Cassilda could read it all out (Line 147, from enum import Enum semicolon. Line 148, class Day(Enum) colon. Line 149, all capitalized letters, MONDAY space equal sign space the numeral 1).

Yeah, he couldn’t do that. It was like trying to listen to an audiobook one godsdamned letter at a time. “It doesn’t work for what I do.”

You just need someone who knows how you think who can put your stuff into code, then. You’re good at this, Arthur.

“I’m going blind, John.” Which of course he knew. Everyone knew. Fucking TIME magazine knew.

So?

“Excuse me?”

You a betting man?

“Oh, what the hell are you saying?” Arthur muttered. “Don’t send that!”

It’s already sent, Arthur. My apologies.

He sighed. “No, it’s fine. Continue to send automatically unless instructed not to. I guess we’re doing this.”

John was scrolling on his end, highlighting bits of code and fixing them. It wasn’t a lot. The whole thing was nearly 100 million lines of code, and Arthur had made a total of four mistakes. That wasn’t bad.

Except that when Arthur could see, he never made any.

The code scrolled. Too fast; he didn’t have time to focus on what John was doing (and doing quickly, with an ease that spoke of artistry the idiot himself did not understand). The next generation, folks, picking up the slack.

One wild, intrusive thought of throwing himself off his expensive balcony later, Arthur shook it off. “What bet?”

Let’s design something together.

Oh, this could go so badly. “What?”

Don’t know yet, but here’s the catch.

“Of course there’s a catch.”

Heh, heh, heh.

What a silly text to send. Arthur’s lips quirked. “Out with it, you dork.”

You share your vision with me, and I design it. Your specs. I won’t interfere with your idea of beauty or whatever you call it. You stick to the parts you love—making it pretty, and how the user accesses it. I’ll make sure it works.

Arthur swallowed. He’d never successfully designed with anybody. It always fell apart. “I don’t know.”

Let’s make it big. We won’t announce it. If it falls apart and I lose the bet, I’ll do whatever you want. Quit. Shave my head. Whatever.

Arthur laughed. “Shave your head?”

But if I win—

Arthur waited. He frowned. “Did you fall on your overlarge head and die?”

Shut up. If I win, you have to keep creating shit, and I get to be smug at you over coffee.

Eh? “That’s—” He didn’t know what to say. “What kind of a stupid bet is that?”

Beneficial to us both. You think my best work isn’t done on your coattails? It is. My star rises and falls with yours. I need you, and for once, you need me, too.

That was too much, and Arthur walked away from the desk. He had to pace.

This shouldn’t be personal, but it was. “How the hell was that both flattering and infuriating at the same… need… what in fuck’s name…”

Of course, Casdilda sent that.

By all means, keep going. This is funny as fuck.

“Fuck you.” Arthur sat back down. He was shaken. He felt like he was a million years old.

It’s cleaned up. Do you want to test it?

“No, it’s ready to go live. I… I trust you.” Because he had to, at least in this. But this bet… insane. Insulting. Ingratiating? What the hell? How was he supposed to take this? It was the weirdest thing he’d ever been offered.

And it’s implemented. Congratulations. Updates are going out now. Got any champagne?

“It’s three in the morning. What I have is bed. We’ll talk tomorrow. Goodnight, Doe.”

It’s John. Dick.

Arthur decided not to answer out of pure pettiness, and was still churning the entire conversation in his head when he fell asleep.

------

CHAPTER TWO

Notes:

This was posted on the road and written on my phone, so I beg your patience as I correct inevitable coding errors typos. Also, the tech stuff is made up. Just pretend it’s an alternative future. We’re all here for John and Arthur, anyway.

#john x arthur #arthur x john #malevolent #malevolent podcast #malevolent fic #malevolent fanfic #john doe malevolent #arthur lester #kayne malevolent #malevolent au #pedantic fic

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theauditionsareinhereright101 · 1 year

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Outer banks season 3 opinions no one asked for! Feel free to read, or not read. Im a waffler, so be prepared. Also, if anyone disagrees with what I’m saying, that’s completely okay! Im just here to share what I thought. Plus no one I know watches it, so this is my only platform 💛💛💛

Overall, very much enjoyed the season!! Well worth the waking up at 1 in the afternoon the next day because I was watching it well into the early hours of the morning!

JIARA:

It comes to no surprise that I was most excited for Jiara, and while I am very much satisfied with how it turned out, I have a few things that I would change. (But I want to clarify that I am very happy with what we got. Considering Jiara is pretty much all fan service, it’s mad that we actually got them. So thank you writers)

I remember thinking to myself when I finished season two, that I wouldn’t be able to deal with the slow burn being any slower, but now I’ve watched this season, I kinda think it should’ve been dragged out a bit more. I used to think I wanted a kiss this season, but after watching I wouldn’t be mad if they didn’t. Which goes against entirely with what I once thought.

Now this is probably a me issue, but now I’ve read pretty much every Jiara fanfiction out there, my expectations were very very high, and some parts of the ship this season didn’t reach it. In hindsight, the idea of it not feeling right is because I’m addicted to fanfiction is hilarious, and a me issue I need to sort out. It’s small things, like when JJ goes to Kiara’s house to get her so they can go rescue big John, only for Mike to be like nah. That scene would’ve been so great if JJ had that moment of being like “I love your daughter sir” instead he leaves really quickly without saying much.

The kiss (while beautiful and emotional), I wish it wasn’t in front of all those girls, cause stuff like public displays like that make me uncomfortable, and I wish it wasn’t brushed off as easily as it was. I get that they are in a rush, but come on now. 3 seasons we’ve been waiting. And there’s barely anything after that that even shows that they are a couple. Yeah they sit next to each other and walk next to each other, but they’ve been doing that back in season 1. Maybe it’s like, they’re JJ and Kiara, they don’t need to do all this coupley shit to show they are a couple. But I’m a slut for fluff! Which we did get a lot of from them this season, which was an aspect I really enjoyed!!!

Overall, I really loved Jiara this season, and I am excited to see what they do with them next season. Don’t fuck then up. Please for the love of God!

RAFE (and a little Ward):

I am never not entertained when Rafe is on my screen. He is hands down in my top 3 favourite characters. (Behind JJ, but in front of Sarah)

He’s got that complexity that has me crawling back for more every single time. I like the subtly of shaving his head to show how insane he’s become. They had me fooled at the beginning of the season. I was sat there like damn, they gonna make Rafe a good guy? No. No they are not. And I am very happy with that conclusion.

I’ll shoehorn Ward into this section while I’m here. While he’s been a prick, and I mean ABSOLUTE prick, I love his journey and how it ends. I believed him when he said he regretted doing that to Sarah, and his sacrifice made me cry goddamit!

Back to Rafe! Yeah he’s great once again this season. In other news, water is wet.

JOHN B AND BIG JOHN:

Honestly? I got kinda bored watching them 🫣

It just felt like the same thing every time. They go somewhere, something happens, they run away. I love me some John B tho, and I love what they did with Big John’s character. His character wasn’t what I expected, but I think that’s why I enjoyed him so much.

I think this season was a great reintroduction to Big John, as well as a great goodbye.

Not much else to say about these two 🙃

SARAH:

Okay, so don’t hate me for this.

I kinda liked what they did with Sarah and Topper. I didn’t hate their interactions. While I think it was fucked what Sarah did to John B, me personally? I’ve never been incredibly attached to John B and Sarah. I like them together, their chemistry is great, but they aren’t my ride or die couple.

But I like how lost she it this season. I mean she’s at a serious low point this season, and it’s so interesting to watch! She’s a chaotic messy mess and I love every minute. To see someone so highly regarded become so reckless is so satisfying to watch in a weird way.

Overall, love Sarah, Will always be in my top 3.

Pope

I loved pope this season!!

He was so manic this season, and it was so interesting to see! I think I’ve said that like 50 times. But to see him so angry and shit, it was such a cool contrast to him in the two first seasons. Him and Cleo are adorable, and I wish nothing but the best for them. I haven’t got much else to say about pope, other than that I love him and want to marry him. K bye.

KIARA (on her own)

I am so thrilled to say, that after 2 season of eh and ugh, I finally am of the opinion that Kiara is a queen!!!

I don’t know what it is, cause she’s not incredibly different to who she was in the past seasons, but something about her this season just made me fall in love!

I think maybe this whole JJ thing has grounded her. Finally someone who she is interested in, is showing hesitancy, which is a really humbling thing, which has made her character so much more relatable to me.

I’ve also never realised how funny she is. The girl makes me giggle man, and I’m not afraid to admit it. So yeah, big love for Kiara, keep it up!

Aaaaaaaaaaaa, JJ.

You never fail to make me smile.

You went through a lot this season, and I wish you the best! And I hope Kiara is treating you right! If not, I definitely will.

The scene where they all come home, and JJ has no one to greet, kills me everytime!!! Someone give this man a damn hug!!!

Kiara’s dad??? I’m sorry sir, I’ll happily go to prison if it means you’ll be off my screen and 6 feet under. I say this with love.

But yeah, JJ is at his most angsty, and I love seeing characters getting to show and feel their emotions. And he does that a lot this season. The scene where his insecurities about being with Kiara were so important for his character, and makes him so much more endearing, even tho he’s been that since season 1!

Still my favourite character, will always be 🤭

Random thoughts!

Wasn’t a massive fan of the 18 months later time skip. I read somewhere on Instagram that it might be a vision or a dream? I’m open to that idea, but who knows.

I didn’t like who little time we spent on the island. Would’ve loved to have spent the whole first episode there.

Would’ve liked a scene between Kiara and Pope talking things over. Would’ve layed to rest whatever was between them.

Carlos Singh was very meh to me. The amount of times he said ya know? My teeth were gritting and my eyes were rolling.

Wheezie? Never heard of her. Considering she’s BARLEY USED!!!

I love Anna Carrera this season. Sending her kid away is not great, but other than that? Loves her. Didn’t think I would after the past 2 seasons. You surprised me outer banks.

I’m very happy with how much I warmed to Cleo. I thought I’d find it hard, but I think she’s a great addition to the group, and I welcome her with arms wide open.

#outer banks #john booker routledge #kiara carrera #jj maybank #sarah cameron #pope hayward #cleo obx #outer banks season 3 #jiara #jarah obx #rafe x reader #ward cameron #rafe cameron #outer banks season two #obx netflix #jj obx #obx

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my-johnlockficrecs · 2 years

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it's may, oh thank god. summer is here and time is finally behaving more or less properly. i can breathe! it is also my birthday month🤭 i hope april was kind to you, and if it wasn't, here's hoping for a better may! i think i say this a lot, but i genuinely thought i hadn't read much fic last month, but clearly i did. i think because i mostly stuck with short fics, i didn't realise precisely how many i went through. in any case, here is my (slightly belated) april round up! enjoy 💌

key: blue: reread •🔥 spicy fics

spotlight recs

✰ Out of the Shadow of Missed Chances by MargueriteSomebodyoranother (1k, teen)

He’d had eighteen months - it seemed like a goddamned eternity at the time - and he never uttered a word.

a short, TEH fix-it fic, Out of the Shadow is a spectacular example of precisely how much of a punch short-form stories can pack. the emotion in this fic, so carefully reigned in yet so deeply felt, gets me every damn time. the elegant way mary bows out, john "half-imagining" choking sherlock but actually only grasping his neck to check sherlock's pulse, leaning down to kiss him as irrevocably as the earth moves around the sun—utterly beautiful. this is the reunion we all wanted and the reunion sherlock and john deserved. i can only thank the writer for sharing this with us 💖

✰ In His Care by @the-pen-pot (20k, teen)

It was only a matter of time. John knew that from the start. Now, he stared at the read-out on the thermometer before examining his reflection in the bathroom mirror. A glassy blue gaze stared back at him from beneath the dishevelled nest of his hair. Dark shadows smeared their warpaint beneath his eyes and his skin had an unhealthy, greyish tinge.

John catches Covid-19, and it's up to Sherlock to take care of him within the sanctuary of Baker Street.

so i may or may not have stalked @the-pen-pot's entire ao3 catalogue. and it is, as i'm sure many of you already know, immaculate. (go see my humble rec of Electric Pink Hand Grenade by the same author.) but this fic. clearly, i have a thing for how this author writes sick!fic, because In His Care just hit all the right spots for me. the way sherlock is so tender in his care for john, but tender in his own way? very recognisably gentle and caring, but not in a facetious way at all. and the way john slowly leans into sherlock's care, oh. (and the way he physically leans into sherlock as well! i love me some back-to-chest cuddles. which was also a thing in Electric Pink Hand Grenade, where it was john caring for sherlock.) i love the dual-pov and how we get to see sherlock's thought processes and emotions alongside john's. it adds a lovely bit of additional layer to the events of the fic. oh, and that cathartic moment of forgiveness in the middle. my heart 🥺

bite sized (5k and less)

1. Lines in the Sand by @jrow (3k, G)

"He examines the plain white box, which clearly holds a new mug. John must have purchased it and he’s written a note on the top.

First time for everything. – J

Sherlock smiles and feels excitement as he opens the box. As expected, it’s a mug. It appears to be a boring, white mug. Sherlock pulls it out of the box and his breath hitches as he sees the image decorating the side. It’s not boring at all."

2. Exceptions by lily_winterwood (1k, M)

Perhaps it's because it's Sherlock, because Sherlock has always been the exception in John's mind.

3. We've Only Just Begun by SherlockWatson_Holmes (936, unrated)

If the pilot universe had continued into canon, what might have happened on that fateful evening as our boys leave the scene of Jeff Hope's death and head for the Chinese restaurant?

4. rainy days by @simplyclockwork (307, G)

“Haven’t danced with you in a while.” John’s voice was a warm murmur in the space between them. “Thought I should fix that.”

5. Reverie by @finamour (3k, E)

“You fancy me.”

Sherlock is drunk, and he’s probably not making any sense.

6. Golden Hours by stopthat (4k, M)

John is too quiet. Sherlock whisks him away to the sea.

They sit in silence for long moments, watching the sun begin its descent into the horizon as the light slowly fades to a glorious gold. Their arms brush occasionally as they sip their stout, and Sherlock feels each touch like an open flame, waiting. For what, he's not sure.

7. A Quiet Murmuration by cathedral_carver (4k, teen)

Just pay me back with one thousand kisses.

8. Home and Dry by @the-pen-pot (1k, G)

Sometimes actions speak louder than words, and comfort can come from the most unlikely source. John and Sherlock pre-slash blanket-fic fluff.

9. Puzzled by @the-pen-pot (1k, teen)

"It was a jigsaw. Thousands of petite pieces were strewn across the scarred surface of their kitchen table, and every single one was plain black."

10. The Joye of Snacks by @khorazir (3k, teen)

Christmas is approaching, and Sherlock surprises John with newly acquired culinary skills. John, in turn, simply ... surprises Sherlock.

11. Shape of My Heart by MissDavis (4k, teen)

February, 2021: John (finally) moves back to Baker Street.

John opened his eyes. "Thought we agreed we weren't going to get takeaway for every meal."

"We won't. This is a special occasion." Sherlock stepped back from the chair, unable to keep a smile off his face, knowing that when John got up, it wouldn't be because it was time for him to leave. He lived here now. Again. Finally. It wasn't everything Sherlock had ever wanted—John would still be sleeping upstairs, not next to Sherlock in his bed—but it was still very, very good. Nearly perfect. He exhaled, letting his shoulders sag as a tension that had lived in him for years began to dissolve.

12. The Old Familiar Sting by songlin (2k, teen)

He calls himself a sociopath because he’d rather be hated than pitied.

13. The Secret Life of Bees by orphan_account (1k, unrated)

'John finds it ironic that the most emotion he has ever seen Sherlock show is to a dying insect'

It takes John Watson a little while to discover Sherlock Holmes' obsession with bees; but when he does, he wonders how he ever could have missed it.

14. Make Perfect the Present by @thetimemoves (221, G)

John Watson waits to be seen.

15. choke, hold by @thetimemoves (221, teen)

John reaches for Sherlock’s throat with his hands, not his mouth. Warring wants. He remembers this feeling.

16. The First Law by @thetimemoves (221, G)

Mike Stamford sets change in motion.

17. Is It Any Wonder by @thetimemoves (221, teen)

He will fix it, fix them.

18. What Happens in Vegas (is legally binding in the United Kingdom) by moonblossom (5k, E)

When a case sends the boys to Vegas, John comes out of it with a bit more than he bargained for.

19. Don't Read the Last Page by @raina-at (4k, teen)

What does it mean to be brave?

Or: Sherlock and John spend New Year's Day with a grumpy toddler and have a long overdue conversation.

short fics (5k-15k)

20. Drunk Drialing by @bertytravelsfar (6k, teen)

Inevitably Johnlocked posted an ask on Tumblr a couple of weeks ago from someone who wanted to know if there were any fics with one of the boys drunk dialing the other to declare their love. I adored this idea and I know some others did too, so here's my take on that. Other drunk dialing fics are available!

21. The In-Between by @blueink3 (10k, M)

Beginning in a Chinese restaurant and ending at the bottom of a well, what about the moments we didn’t see?

22. Distractions by allonsys_girl (9k, E) 🔥

Sherlock's on a stakeout and John's very pretty - distractions ensue

23. come undone by @simplyclockwork (7k, E) 🔥

At his stag night, John discovers just how much Sherlock loves dancing

24. Oblivion by @algyswinburne (8k, teen)

I can't even stand looking at you anymore, John had written in the Letter.

But this is certainly a whole lot more of Sherlock to look at.

25. Because I Care by CarmillaCarmine (7k, G)

During the epidemic, John comes back home from the clinic with a fever.

26. Isolated by CarmillaCarmine (10k, E)

Due to an ongoing pandemic, John and Sherlock find themselves isolated at 221B.

27. A Grave Situation by @the-pen-pot (6k, teen)

"The idea of being sealed inside a sarcophagus was morbid at best, even if he did have John for company."

Trapped and awaiting rescue, Sherlock and John finally have a chance to talk about more than just a case.

28. A Brand of Gold by aquabelacqua (12k, M) 🔥

What am I doing? he wondered. The answer came back at once:

Flirting.

He sank deeper into the pillows, let the mist and blur of the wine settle around him, let it shore up his nerves and dim the warning signals that flashed dully in the back of his mind. He let the rest of the disappointment about Lucy and his strange accommodations and about the weekend as a whole fade into obscurity. He let the vital, missing piece snap into place as surely and as cleanly as if it had always been there.

He was flirting with Sherlock Holmes.

mid length (16k-50k)

29. The House on Rue des Boulangers by @bertytravelsfar (24k, M)

After being invalided out of the army and without any other prospects, John Watson has relocated to a small town in northern France. Now he has to decide what to do for the rest of his life. One morning there's a mad stranger in his garden chasing a swarm of bees, and it seems John's decision is made.

30. In Need of Quiet Affection and Gentle Words by @kinklock (16k, E)

After John's girlfriend (of sorts) sends him an online sex guide, John finds himself more intrigued by the guide's author than anything his girlfriend might have had in mind.

31. Love or What You Will by miss_frankenstein (31k, teen)

John is an English professor who specializes in War and Post-War Literature and Sherlock is the brilliant yet impossible Ph.D. student assigned to be his TA because no one in the Chemistry Department is willing to put up with him. And - somewhere between Waugh and Plath, e-mails and takeaway, novels and villanelles - they fall in love.

32. Lockdown by johnwatso and Salambo06 (23k, E)

The world is in lockdown due to Covid-19. This is how Sherlock and John spend their time.

long fics (50k and above)

33. All Things Inherit by @the-pen-pot (53k, E)

"For John, it's not a bullet that throws his existence into disarray – it's a bite."

In a world where twelve percent of the population are Mactiri - people with the ability to turn into wolves at will - John finds himself struggling with a new and horrifying existence. The victim of a shocking attack, he is discharged from the army and sent home, determined never to acknowledge what he can now become.

However, when his health starts to fail, it is up to his enigmatic new flatmate to show him that perhaps his life is not the nightmare John believes it to be.

34. Quarantine by wendymarlowe (53k, teen)

John and Sherlock are stuck at 221B together due to coronavirus concerns. Sherlock slowly drives John barmy.

Updating in real time (daily).

series

35. Cat Among the Pigeons series by @the-pen-pot (56k, 10 works, incomplete)

As days became months, John found himself overlooking the cat-like characteristics or the occasional moments of Felisian behaviour. He forgot about Sherlock's sharper-than-usual canines and the way he could see in the dark. So what if he lived with a rare genetic variant of Homo sapiens, rather than a bog-standard example of the general population?

It was just Sherlock, unique in every respect and captivating for his mind as much as his physical appearance.

36. One Fixed Point series by @the-pen-pot (4k, 2 works, complete)

Every meeting is different, but somehow the result is always the same.

I opened up prompts briefly on Tumblr to AU scenarios. This is where I'll be putting the results. Each one's different, so each part will be like a different story.

37. parts 2-6 of A Doctor in the House series by @kitten-kin

#i also didn't reread many fics last month #huh #at this point gentle affection is a staple for every month #i'm sure i'll end up reading it again in may #it's a great fic😌#johnlock #johnlock fic recs #johnlock fics #my johnlock fic recs: april 2022 #myjohnlockficrecs #bbc sherlock

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