#john luther fanfic

[your-averagewriter]

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Summary: (y/n) has to be held back during one of Luther's dangerous missions but luckily it has a happy ending (John Luther x fem!reader).

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: Violence, swearing, weapons, usual Luther stuff

-

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Tugging at the sides of my cost, I pull them around myself as I move from fast-walking to jogging. The streets are empty except for the police vehicles, I can’t even see any policemen. My eyes scan the empty square, searching for anyone but most importantly John.

Striding through the square I can see the shooters up on the roof but I simply ignore them, making my way down the street until I see Ripley up ahead of me.

“Ripley, where’s John?” I ask, hurriedly.

“(y/n), you can’t be here. It’s too dangerous, come on.”

“Where’s John?”

“Come on, we’ve got to go.”

“Ripley, I’m not leaving until I see John and know that he’s safe because by the looks of this cleared out square lined with snipers, it doesn’t look likely.” I can hear his superiors through his earpiece, yelling commands to get me out of here. I put out my hand in front of me signalling for Ripley to pass me the earpiece. 

“Where’s John?” I ask.

“(y/n), you have got to get out of there now.” The voice is muffled through the speaker.

“Not until you tell me where John is.” I say.

“Give the earpiece back to DS Ripley.” I roll my eyes but oblige and after a few seconds of talking to each other Ripley looks back at me, dread in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n).” He says and I look at him confused but in seconds he’s lifted me up over his shoulder, holding me there.

“Ripely, put me down!” I yell at him and hit his back but it’s useless.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n).” He says, hurrying from the square to some makeshift base filled with screens and microphones.

Placing me down on the ground gently, I stare at him darkly and he just looks awkwardly away. It remains silent for what seems like hours but must’ve been seconds before I speak up again.

“Can someone tell me what’s happening?” I ask, loudly, looking from Ripley to Schenk.

“DCI Luther is making some sort of deal with the suspect.” Schenk says.

“What kind of deal?” I ask, curiously.

“He, umm,” Ripley hesitates. “Poured petrol all over himself and is planning to roll a dice with the suspect…if he picks the number then the criminal will be arrested but if he doesn’t…”

“If he doesn’t? What happens?” I ask, feeling stress run through my body.

“The suspect has a lighter.” Schenk finishes his sentence.

“He’s gonna set my husband on fire?” I ask my eyes boring into the two men. Ripley looks away, unable to meet my eyes but Schenk gives me a short nod before looking away. “Why would you let him go through with this?” I ask, desperately. My hand, now covering my mouth trying to stop myself from crying.

“I’m sorry, (y/n). You know how he is…” Schenk starts.

“You should have stopped him!” I almost yell.

“He doesn’t take no for an answer and by the time you know what he’s doing he’s basically already done it. All we can do now is watch.” He says, indicating to the screen filming him as he stands opposite to the suspect.

My hand stays clasped around my mouth as I watch him walk into the lorry, sound accompanying it. A stray tear runs down my cheek and I quickly wipe it away, not moving my eyes from the screen, staying focused on the white van.

I can hear them talking but the words don’t mean anything to me but I do understand the sounds of liquid falling. More petrol and I can’t help an audible sound rise up from my throat, a sort of gasp as the situation only gets more and more real. Ripley places his hand on my shoulder, rubbing it gently as we all watch the intense scene unfold in front of our eyes.

John’s voice is echoing through the screen and I hope to God it’s not the last time I hear his voice. Coaxing the suspect into putting the pin back in his bomb instils a little more hope into me as a plan seems to have arisen.

Finally, the man rolls his dice.

“What do you say?” He asks in a malicious tone like he’s enjoying the game.

“Alright, he’s what I say.” John starts and I hope he has the right answer or something in his plan. We wait with baited breath for him to answer. “The ‘A’, between the ‘L’ and the ‘R’, aim low.” He says, voice monotone and that’s all Schenk needs to give the command.

We hear a small sound of confusion as the suspect slowly catches up but Schenk’s already given the order.

“You heard the man.” He says and round after round are shot into the back of the lorry. All I can do is pray that my husband is still alive. I stare at the screen, the lorry being torn apart by the bullets but it soon stops in hopes that the suspect is dead and John still alive.

All I need is the door to be pushed open for me to leave and start running towards the scene. Hearing shouts from various officers behind me, I ignore them as I see my husband walk out from the lorry. I run faster towards him, tears falling from my eyes, blown away by the wind as I launch myself at him.

I’m not even sure if he saw me but he seemed prepared for me once I was in his arms. I bury my face in his chest, our height difference very apparent as he towers over me, his large calloused hands resting gently on my back.

“Love, what are you doing here?” He questions, softly. “You’re meant to be at work…”

“Yeah, because you left me to watch this whole situation unfold on the news!” I say angrily but I’m just glad that he’s still alive. He stays silent for a second. “Are you hurt?” I pull myself away from him to look over him. Pulling open his jacket I look for any blood or bullet wounds. 

“No, I’m fine. I’m okay darlin’, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me one day, making me worry so much.” I say before resting my head on his chest. He places a kiss on my head before giving Ripley a thumbs up as he approaches us.

“Glad you’re alright, boss.” He says with a smile and I turn to look at him.

“He picked me up!” I say loudly but not shouting.

“She was in the active shooter zone, I wasn’t really sure what else to do…”

“Good work, Ripley.” John says and I look at him with a stare that could kill.

“Don’t congratulate him!” I say angrily, still gripping on to his large figure.

“Sorry, again, (y/n). I didn’t think Luther would want you to be involved…”

“You’re entirely right, Ripley, good work and if you ever need to do it again, please do.” He says and I give him another look.

“It wouldn’t need to happen again if you didn’t do stupid things like this!” I point out. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” I say after sighing.

“I’m always okay, you know that.”

“If you didn’t pull this shit then I wouldn’t need to worry about you!” I cross my arms and stare at him, both his and Ripley’s eyes on me.

Grabbing hold of John’s coat, I start tugging him with me.

“C’mon we’re going home.” I say,pulling him by his coat. “You’ve got a lot to make up for.” I say.

“Can’t wait.” He smirks knowing what tonight entails.

-

AN: Can you guys tell I like Idris Elba?

Why is there not more Idris Elba content especially John Luther? People need to get writing!

I hope you enjoyed reading!

[gh0stlyb34r]

Welcome to my blog!

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[lilith-696]

I've been rewatching all the Mission Impossible movies in the last few days and there's one idea I can't get out of my head:

What if Ethan actually was John Lark?

What if he'd actually snapped after having been betrayed by his government one too many times?

He would be absolutely unstoppable.

But how would Benji, Luther and Ilsa fit into it? Would they follow him? Or would that be the thing that makes them turn their backs on Ethan?

And I've been looking for fanfics and headcannons but I haven't found anything. But this idea just keeps on zipping around in my head so if anyone has also thought about this, please come and talk to me cause I'm going crazy.

[swiftwaterprawn]

@ct-9902 thanks for the tag, you're right, this is a lot haha but here we go..

PART ONE

are you named after anyone: no

when was the last time you cried: yesterday... therapy

do you have kids: no

do you use sarcasm a lot: nooooo -said sarcastically-

what's the first thing you notice about people: clothing? their voice? generally not very much, I'm terrible at facial recognition.

what's your eye colour: hazel

scary movies or happy endings: I freakin love scary movies

any special talents: I hyperfixate/focus so its got me through various degrees and qualifications but more recently i'm using this power for evil (fanfics lol)

where were you born: UK

what are your hobbies: writing, video gaming, reading

have any pets: my dog (Ahsoka!)

what sports do you play/have played: bit of tennis, horse-riding

how tall are you: 171cm

favourite subject in school: Biology, psychology

dream job: if I could become a published author writing fiction and not have to do my usual day job honestly that would be THE dream

PART TWO

first ship: the first one I ever read about in fanfic was Drarry and it OPENED my eyes let me tell you

three ships: the three I have written about the most are John/Arthur (RDR2), Stucky (Marvel), and pretty much any cloneship (TCW) I just wanna see the clones happy ok

last (current) song: current song stuck in my head is Waves, Dean Lewis

last movie: I seem to watch a lot more TV than film at the mo, but last film was Luther, after re-watching the whole series as well

currently reading: not at the moment actually as im fixated on writing lol but last book was The Girl From the Well (Rin Chupeco) fantastic horror

currently watching: literally at this moment The Night Agent, but also Mando, You, Narcos, Shadow & Bone, Castlevania, and just finished The Bad Batch(!)

currently consuming: A coffee

currently craving: to write!! But also a croissant. Gimme that pastry goodness.

I'm kinda new here so @just-a-lonely-trashcan @sw-2020-1 @letsgetgoingbro @myrtlesb @kaminosfinest no pressure to reply but hi join in if you want :)

[wellhalesbells]

Tag 9 people you want to get to know better

tagged by @andavs - who is clearly trying to make me not be an enigma over here.  But I. Am. Enigmatic!

Three ships? - Geraskier (I’m not happy about this, okay, but it is like.... all I’m reading lately.  No desire to write it but I am devouring the fanfic), Sterek, and, um, my third is in constant rotation for when I get bored of the other two (recently John/Justin from Luther, Merthur, Rickyl, idek, it is eclectic in the third seed, friends.)

First ever ship? - Drarry.

Last song? - I saw an image on tumbles that said ‘I loved you first’ yesterday and then I kept trying to make that the lyrics to You Broke Me First by Tate McRae - which they are not and it took a lot of ransacking my iTunes and humming the tune to figure that out because when the words are all wrong, turns out.... not easy to track down, so I listened to that probably about thirty times in a row once I figured it out because I earned it.

Last movie? - Glass Onion, I watched it this afternoon.  I was going to watch it this morning, got it all queued up, made myself coffee and a bagel, sat down, missed the coaster and spilled the entire thing on the carpet before I even managed a sip.  *curtsies*

Currently reading? - I was only gonna read two books at once this year and if you count two as four then I am killing that.  Hare House by Sally Hinchcliffe, Kingdom of the Feared by Kerri Maniscalco (God, I hate it so far :/), Hidden Pictures by Jason Rekulak, and Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, Volume 4 by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu.

Currently watching? - I stopped watching anything at all for months and months last year so I’m happy to report that I have actually started two shows: Derry Girls (season 3) and Interview with the Vampire.

Currently consuming? - I just got back from my sister’s where my bro-in-law’s mom made a huge thing of mujadara - I had two servings.  *groans from floor* please don’t talk about food right now or ever again, thank you for your understanding at this sensitive time.

Currently craving? - Sleep, bro, I just got so tired an hour ago (probably a rightly deserved food coma tbqh) and yet not only am I not sleeping, I am also doing nothing productive!  *tosses confetti*

tagging: @callunavulgari @highway-to-purgatory @literaryoblivion @alocalband @rosieposiepuddingnpie @yodas-yo-yo @clotpolesonly @rinahale @savileho @kikiroo and anyone else who wants to do this!

[nade2308]

GIFS AND EDITS MASTERLIST POST 6

Previous masterlists: one || two || three || four || five

Mission Impossible

Ethan shooting Luther in Fallout: part 1 || part 2

Luther holding Ethan back + Benji winning the bet: part 1 || part 2 || part 3

Ethan and Luther gif in the boat

Boys and trust

Scared Ethan

Top Gun/Top Gun Maverick

July 29th anniversary gifset

Dogfight football beach scene: part 1 || part 2 || part 3

Rock of Ages

"Pour some sugar on me" by Def Leppard gifset: part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4

Jack Reacher 2012

Jack gifset

Jack Reacher: Never Go Back

Jack and Susan at the motel: part 1 || part 2

Jack holding Sam

Reacher on Prime

Dancing little imp: part 1 || part 2

Shirtless Jack: part 1 || part 2

Jack and the medal

Reacher season 2 trailer gifs

Hit the road Jack video edit

OG Magnum PI

Scars of the past cover edit

Your softness is your strength cover edit

Squad goals

Exasperated Thomas

Detached

Delirium

Forever in time

Sleepy time Tom

Thomas and Rick edit (1x01)

Every sunrise

Thomas/TC edit

Port side

Troubled birds OG MPI characters edit

Troubled birds OG MPI edit

Did you see the sunrise video

Morning swim + comfort cover edit

Heads and aches

Limbo

The boys

Thomas and Jack AU edit

Thomas 6x09 edits

A boy

Klutzy Thomas

Persist and prevail cover edit

Smiley boy

Thomas and TC edit (John Denver - Looking for space)

Criminal Minds

Hotch gifs (1x08)

MacGyver 2016

Fluke AU edit (MacGyver 2016 and CSI)

Imp Mac gif

WK 3x08 edit 1

WK 3x08 edit 2

Mac and Jack edit (first version of the show)

Drugged and disoriented Mac video 2x04

Video 1x03 - Mac and Jack at the cemetery

Jack angsty edit

For your eyes only (AU) edits

Winged Mac fic edit

"Sorry" by Daughtry, Mac and Jack edit

Monte Walsh 2003

Anniversary gifset

Smallville

AC being hit with a dart

Born on the Fourth of July

Ron being carried by his father

Reacher on Prime

Boy getting undressed: part 1 || part 2

Reacher in every episode of season 1

Hawaii Five 0 (2010)

Steve and Freddie gifs - 3x20: part 1 || part 2

Fast X

Boy in Rio

TMNT 2003

The turtles and their weapons

Leo and flashback

Missing scene to 2x16 fic cover

Parallels

Thomas and Greg parallels (OG MPI and Black Sheep Squadron)

Jesse Stone and Thomas Magnum parallels (OG MPI and Jesse Stone: Thin Ice)

Jesse Stone and Thomas Magnum parallels, "Bedside vigils" (OG Magnum PI and Jesse Stone: Sea Change)

Shower parallels (Smalville and Reacher on Prime)

Parallels Bill Cage and Nick Morton

Cuffs parallels

Mission Impossible and MacGyver 2016 parallels: part 1 || part 2

Miscellaneous

Hugs (H50, MacGyver 2016, The Old Guard)

Fanfic writers appreciation day edit

Ari Levinson and Clay Appuzzo edits: edit 1 || edit 2

Mirror gifset + bonus gif

Ella Thomas birthday edit

Donnie Wahlberg birthday edit

[allisoooon]

HOW IT HAPPENS IN CANON

Klaus: Any luck finding your one-eyed man?

Luther: What’s he talking about?

Five: Does it matter? It’s Klaus.

HOW IT HAPPENS IN FANFIC

Klaus: Any luck finding your one-eyed man?

Five: No.

Luther: Does it matter what he says?  It’s Klaus.

Klaus: Hey!

Luther: (spits in his eye) You’re a little fat girl, aren’t you?

Klaus: Noooo.

Luther: SAY IT!

Klaus: I’m a little fat girl.

HOW IT HAPPENS IN CANON

Klaus: This whole jumping through time thing of yours, how did you know how to do that?

Five: I didn’t. You’d realize that if you were actually sober.

Klaus: Hey, I am sober!  I’ve been sober for two—almost two days now!

Five: (unimpressed) Yeah, two days.

Klaus: It feels like forty-five years…

Five: Who are you kidding, Klaus?  I’ve seen you fidgeting all day.

HOW IT HAPPENS IN FANFIC

Klaus: This whole superstrength thing of yours, how did you know how to do that?

Luther: I didn’t. You’d realize that if you were actually sober.

Klaus: Hey, I am sober!  I’ve been sober for two—almost two days now!

Luther: (unimpressed) Yeah, two days.

Klaus: It feels like forty-five years…

Luther: Who are you kidding, Klaus?  I’ve seen you fidgeting all day.  Give up already, you useless junkie!  I’m gonna frame you for murder and you’re gonna go to jail for thirty years!

Klaus: Why are you doing this to me?

Luther: Because we’re Delta Airlines!  ♫And life is a fucking nightmare!♫

[thesevenwondersofawitch]

Alice smiled bitterly, "everyone you care about dies in the end, that's how the story ends for them. I was fully expecting to die in that warehouse, but I didn't. I survived and then I disappeared so that we both could live. Even if it was not together."

[rosncrntz]

“Her gesture is crude, her meaning cruel, but her eyes are sad. Mark can’t help it. He’s a lawyer; he trades in sadness.”

When Alice Morgan shows up at Mark North’s doorstep, he invites her in. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t want to know why. The reason is too much to bear.

When Mark North walks home with Zoe Luther, she invites him in. She knows why. It’s inevitable.

[svicolotuttoamancina]

An au in which, at the end of his adventures as a D.I., John Luther crushed by the weight of his misadventures, moves to America and changes his name.

He becomes a corporate shark, and a self made millionaire in no time. But in the City in which he moves in, he has to fight a paragon of good so big, so pure, a man so brave that makes John go mad with the knowledge of what he could have been.

So, John, has to destroy this man. This, "Superman", will face the wrath of the ex John Luther, or, as he calls himself now, Lex Luthor

[illictaffrs]

There is Love in the World - The Happy Ending (John Luther/Alice Morgan)

And here it is! The first of three endings, and you’ll be glad to know that this one ends happily (unlike the finale).

I’ve also uploaded this fic onto AO3, so here’s the link if you’d rather read it on there:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17326028

Hope you enjoy it!

It’s dark by the time she makes it to George’s back garden; the preparations took longer than she had anticipated. She’s missed this, the careful planning of a murder, she’s missed how grounded it makes her feel. There’s more control, more power. It’s the opposite of how she feels around John. With him, it’s more unpredictable, similar to the scientific phenomenon that is a black hole, but less...evil. They suck each other in, collide each time with more intensity than the last. She’s certain that, if they wanted to, they could destroy anyone or anything that stood in their way. The same way a black hole would: by dragging them in and crushing them, making them nothing.

Which is exactly what she intends to do with George Cornelius.

Maybe the two feelings aren’t so different after all.

Regardless, there she stands in his garden, surrounded by perfectly trimmed bushes, carefully watered plants, and...is that a shed filled with shotguns?

Oh, this is almost too easy.

Barely a minute passes before Alice has ditched her own weapon in favour of one of George’s many shotguns.

Yes, she thinks, letting a sinister grin form upon her lips, this will do nicely.

He spots her before she’s even fired the first bullet. No problem there, she’d rather he knew who was going to be responsible for his demise, she likes to have her brilliance recognised.

A look of pure horror passes over George’s face, but no sooner has it appeared when dozens of armed policemen storm into his house, shouting and screaming and shooting. The horror has been replaced with a glint of amusement, and Alice wishes more than anything that she could stay and cut it off his face, literally.

But unless she wants to die here, that simply isn’t an option anymore. She makes a dive to the right, only just avoiding what could have quite easily been a fatal shot. Her legs just manage to make it to the back gate when a sharp jolt of pain sends her stomach into a state of bloody mess. Fabulous, back for three days and shot twice. She’s must be breaking all kinds of records.

“Do not move!”

George holds his hands in the air, a sign of surrender, but not defeat, not just yet. Schenk looms above him, a teasing smile on his lips. But George doesn’t even notice, he has one last trick up his sleeve.

He’s pinned down and handcuffed, but he bides his time until it’s only him and Schenk left in the room, then he strikes.

“Martin, I think it’s time you and I discussed getting me some legal protection.” It’s a subtle move, but the first of many.

Schenk misses it entirely, too focussed on the death of one of his own, one of his friends.

“I can’t put it together, George. I’ve tried, but I can’t work out what happened.” There’s no fight left in his voice, only a tired noise of defeat.

“I need a show of good will,” he continues, gathering what remains of his strength, “an upfront payment. Right now.”

There’s no command, no discussion, just one of Schenk’s men entering the room and uncuffing George.

He plays it safe, and, remaining silent, hands Schenk his phone, the image of John hovering over a body glaring on the screen.

The shock and disbelief on the other man’s face gives George the sign he needs to open his mouth and condemn John Luther.

“I told you, Martin, your lad’s a wrong’un.”

Schenk momentarily clears the mist in his head, it’s clouding around him, surrounding him and he knows if he’s not careful, it’ll eat him up inside. But he manages to ignore it long enough to issue a warning to Halliday.

“Hey, boss.”

“DS Halliday, are you with...DCI Luther?” The exhaustion in his voice shakes her for a second, but she regains her composure and answers him steadily.

“Yeah, I am.” There’s a hint of defiance in her voice, as though she’s trying to lift the uncertainty from Schenk and continue the conversation normally, without the mist threatening to consume her too.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully.” Her attempt fails, and his voice sounds even more full of grief than previously, she tries not to wonder why.

“Without alerting DCI Luther to this order, I need you to bring him back to the station as soon as possible.”

“Ok, yeah.” It’s hard for her not to ask questions, and even harder to try and remain calm in front of John, when it’s just been hinted at that he is a danger to her.

“If you alert him to this, there is every chance that he will run.” Schenk’s voice takes on a more confident tone, with an edge of anger building up and threatening to seep over.

“Do you understand me?”

Halliday takes a breath, just about staying calm and responding in her usual chirpy voice.

“Yep, got it.”

“Good. Now get him back to the station. Tell him...I have some interesting news, and I want to give him it face...to face.”

The call ends, and Halliday lets her own mask slip for just a second, allowing confusion and anxiety to write across her face.

John picks up on it immediately, and Halliday curses herself for letting him read her so easily.

“Schenk has asked you to bring me in, hasn’t he?” There’s a long sigh before he speaks, and Halliday wonders if it’s one of irritance or anger. She hesitates, then decides there’s no point in lying if he already knows.

“Erh, yeah. Yeah...he says that he’s got some news, something he wants to tell you?” She intends for it to be a statement, but by the time she’s finished, it resembles more of a question.

“Fair dues.”

The rest of the journey is made in silence. That is until they pull up outside the teacher’s house and John takes the opportunity to clarify where they stand.

“I’m not going anywhere until this...is dealt with.” It’s a risky move, he knows that. It could result in Schenk coming after him himself, but it’s one he has to make, otherwise, they’ll never catch Lake.

He doesn’t catch Halliday texting Schenk.

When it’s all over, and Lake is slumping miserably in the back of a police car, John approaches Halliday.

“Catherine, I owe you an explanation.” He pauses, giving her a chance to put in an input, but realises she just wants him to carry on.

“Schenk...Schenk is more than likely under the impression that I’m responsible for two recent murders.” Once again he gives her time to react, but glancing up at her face sees only a prompt to elaborate. God, he thinks, this woman is too nice.

“I can’t tell you much else, and I’m sorry for that, but I just need you to know that I didn’t do it. This is nothing more than a huge misunderstanding that, unless you let me leave right now, could get blown way out of proportion.” He exhales, lets out the breath that he didn’t realise he was holding. For once, he struggles to read the expression plastered onto his partner’s face. Whether that’s a mercy or a curse he isn’t sure of.

It’s only when she answers him that he realises he’s got this woman all wrong.

“Am I going to be able to stop you from leaving?”

The question throws him off guard; of all the things he’s been expecting (a panicked frenzy; an emotional speech; or even just handcuffs and a silent condemnation), this blunt, straight-to-the-point assessment was not one of them.

“I-erm...no, not really.”

“Then that’s that. If it’s not going to be possible to prevent you from running, then there’s nothing I can do.”

Pure admiration shines on his face.

“Go on boss, what are you waiting for?”

And so he runs.

He’s only made it as far as the second corner when he sees her. Red hair dishevelled and untidy, face scrunched up, mouth turned downwards and icy blue eyes glassy and bloodshot. She’s making her way towards him, clutching her stomach and half bending over. It terrifies him, and for a moment he comes to a sudden stand-still.

“Don’t just stand there!”

The tinge of alarm embedded in her words would have been enough to wake him up from his momentary slumber, but it’s the way her voice cracks as she speaks that really does it for him.

He’s at the top of the street and next to her before he so much as take another breath. It’s lucky too, because the second he reaches her, her legs give way and her body collapses into his arms.

“This feels awfully familiar,” manages Alice, adding a forced laugh at the end in hopes of lessening the ever-growing seriousness of the situation.

Her efforts are pushed aside as John aims a glare at her so intense and full of emotion that it forces her to turn the other way.

“Alice, what have you done? What happened?” A certain panic enters his tone, mirroring Alice’s from only seconds ago.

Shrill laughter fills the air around them, bitterness and anger and pain all rolled into one as Alice admits her failure, “Turns out I couldn’t do it either, how ironic!”

An element of unstableness is present in her revelation, and John is reminded of their exchange on the phone so long ago, the one he tried to cover up by telling his colleagues it had been his ex-wife, and not a certain malignant narcissist.

Right now, however, he’s more confused than anything else.

His bewilderment is expertly picked up on by Alice; nothing else could be expected really.

“Kill George,” she clarifies, sucking in a breath and steadying herself against John, “Your big boss interrupted us with his gaggle of armed policemen. You really ought to explain to him that I was only trying to do him a favour.”

She’s pouting now, toying with him by trying to appear more innocent than she’s ever been in her whole life.

“Rather rude of them to open fire, don’t you agree?”

Her mask is back on, draped across her face in an attempt to convey humour, rather than the sense of dread that dangles above her.

John, ever the gentleman, wraps his arm around Alice, careful not to aggravate her wound but still adding the extra support she won’t admit she needs.

“We need to move, get you somewhere safe. If Schenk knows you’re alive then we’re in more trouble than I thought. I’m not exactly in his good books right now.”

This time Alice doesn’t need to fake a laugh, if John didn’t know any better he’d say she was truly delighted by his implication.

“Now, John, have you been naughty?” She revels in the normality of the turn their conversation has taken. The playfulness brings her joy; she’d forgotten how immensely fun it was to mess with the man who’s embrace she was tightly wrapped in.

It only adds to her delight when John flashes her a sarcastic smile, before remembering what was happening and turning serious once more.

“George has a, um, a photo of me...standing above his hitman’s body and holding a gun,” he’s staring at the ground now, determined not to meet Alice’s enquiring gaze, “From what it sounded like on the phone, he’s shown Schenk. And in Schenk’s mind that places me as the top suspect for both his and Benny’s murders.” He awaits Alice’s reaction.

“John, look at me.”

He pulls his eyes up to meet hers, expecting to find them full of fire and anger, but after searching them sees only understanding and pity. Sometimes he forgets how much Alice has changed since he first met her at the station.

“I told you before...those people, the ones you mistakenly call ‘friends’, are nothing more than vampires. You,” she amends her misuse of pronouns, “we, need to leave before this escalates any further and you get blamed, once again might I add, for a crime that you did not commit.” She finishes, not with a look of satisfaction (which would have definitely appeared if they had had this same conversation three years prior), but with an encouraging smile that spreads across her entire face and lights up her features.

He wants to let her know that she’s right, something he would’ve been too proud to admit in the past, but he’s sensible enough to recognise that the most important thing is to get Alice to safety.

“We can talk about this later,” he promises, “but right now we need to focus on getting as far away from here as possible in a short space of time. Got any ideas?”

Ten minutes, one stolen car, and multiple stitches later, the two of them are back at Alice’s parents’ house, wounds tended to and all.

It’s nowhere near as bad as either of them had feared, and once it’s all dealt with they bask in the fleeting relief that washes over them both. It’s all too easy to disregard the events outside of the house and pretend they’re in a world of their own.

But soon reality kicks in, or at least it does for John.

Alice is awoken by a kiss on the top of her head, tickling her hair and stirring butterflies that do not exist in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes flutter open, and the fantasy is ruined by what she sees in front of her.

“Where are you going?” It comes out harsher than she meant it to, and she knows she could amend it, apologise even, but she decides it’s a fitting reaction to John nearly walking out of the front door, so ready to abandon her again.

“I..well,” he tries again, this time more sure of his answer, “I figured since you’re all patched up and ready to go you’d want me out of your hair,” he’s not doing a good job at disguising his uncertainty, so he gives it one more shot and encompasses Alice’s signature dash of humour, “You know, so that you can disappear again, fake your own death, I don’t know.”

Alice watches him, an identical pained expression on her face. There’s no use for her mask now, he’d only see right through it.

“What on earth makes you think that?” There’s genuine hurt in her eyes, and John isn’t sure what she wants him to say, so he says nothing.

“You and me, John, we’re in this together now, for better or for worse,” she huffs a laugh at her reference; maybe her pride isn’t gone after all, “We’re equals and opposites, the same but oh-so-very different. Yin and yang; Bonnie and Clyde; Bert and Ernie, remember?”

He does remember, couldn’t forget even if he tried. Part of him wishes they could be back in his old apartment, Alice pressed up against him, like a devil whispering in his ear, a devil with no concept of personal space. If he could go back, he’d accept her offer of travelling, her promises of adventure and mystery and seduction. But he can’t, and they aren’t in his old apartment, they’re in a house haunted by the murders that took place there. He wonders if this time he can make the right choice.

“I had an interesting conversation with Mark after you left. He helped me realise something, two things actually, if we’re being specific.”

“And what were they?”

She pauses, he supposes she’s preparing a response intended to pique his interest.

“The first was that he’s not quite as unobservant and incessantly boring as I initially believed him to be.” John just about succeeds in morphing his laugh into a cough, but Alice smiles nonetheless.

“The second...well the second is something I’ve had quite a bit of trouble accepting.”

The vulnerability solely reserved for him is once again present on her face, and John has to scold himself for the look of awe that has snuck onto his face.

“And what was that?”

She wastes no time in answering him.

“That I’m not a psychopath. That I’m not incapable of sentiment and empathy and all that nonsense.” She’s deflecting her emotional exposure and turning to humour again, despite knowing there’s no point.

Her confession causes John to suck in a breath. She won’t look at him now, and he knows it’s because she’s afraid, terrified even, of what she might find.

“Alice?”

She can’t bear to face him, to risk seeing what could only be amusement and taunting painted across his face.

“Yes?”

“He was right.”

It’s all she needs to hear. There’s no need for declarations and meaningful conversations because that’s not how they work. They both know that. Their relationship is built on trust and mutual understanding, not pointless three-word phrases.

John has long since moved away from the front door and is now positioned next to Alice on the sofa. She allows her head to rest on his shoulder and a content sigh rolls out of her mouth.

He looks down at her, at this woman that will forever remain a mystery to him, but who he discovers something new about every single day.

“So,” he wonders aloud, “what now?”

[halo-of-honey]

The Quartermaster

Justin Ripley x Original Fem. Character

Synopsis: Quinn is tired of her job. She desperately needs a vacation. So she decides to take a month and visit London. What she doesn’t expect is to meet a handsome, young detective in a city of millions. But can she let go of her past and move into the future?

Words: ~8,655

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

[[ Read on AO3! ]]

Chapter 4: The Rooftop Pool

Justin slumped back in his chair. He had been watching Luther in the interrogation room through the one-way mirror. Luther had been in there with their murderer for almost an hour, trying to get the guy to confess. Finally the murderer slipped up, Luther noticed, and then the man confessed to it all. Their case was solved and the murderer caught. Justin had worried that things would go sideways. Their criminal was smart, but clearly not smart enough. He felt a rush of relief and ease wash over him. It was a feeling he had been seeking like a drug since he became a cop.

Luther met Justin in the bullpen. Their desks faced each other, both cluttered with paperwork and photographs. They clasped hands and bumped shoulders, congratulating each other and the rest of their team on a job well done. Justin moved to start straightening up the files on his desk while Luther moved to take down the photos pinned to the wall. Eventually Luther returned to his desk and dropped the cardboard office box full of photos on his desk. The box landed on his almost completely paper covered keyboard and a moment later the computer started beeping incessantly from the repeated keystrokes.

“Move the box.” Benny, the Serious Crime Unit’s in-house technical assistant said in a dull tone from across the room.

Luther shoved the box away from his monitor a few inches and the beeping stopped, “Damn technology.” he grumbled under his breath.

“You’ll get used to it someday, old man.” Justin teased.

“Alright, give me a break. I just got the bastard to confess, didn’t I?” Luther replied, even as he smirked. “I’m starved. Anyone wanna grab a bite and a drink? First round’s on me!”

Benny stood up, reaching for his coat, “I’ll meet you outside. I think this calls for a celebratory smoke first.” he said, putting two fingers to his lips and winking.

Justin considered it, tapping the files in his hand against the desk to straighten them, “Actually can I take a rain check? I’m meeting someone tonight.” he said.

Luther cocked an eyebrow, “Who is this someone?” he asked.

“No one, just a friend.”

“Is this friend that girl you ran off to chat with in the square the other day?” Luther asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Wait, you saw her?”

“Of course I did, mate. She’s a stunner.”

Justin gaped at his partner, not sure how to respond to that. Finally he shook his head, “I should go.”

“Yeah, go. But I want to meet her soon, alright?”

“Yeah yeah...” Justin replied with no intention of actually following through. He really liked Luther, even considered him one of his closest friends. But he didn’t want to scare Quinn off. “Maybe someday.”

Twenty minutes later, Justin parked on the street as close to Quinn’s building as he could find. It was almost 7pm and he wondered if she’d even be home. From their long conversation at the bar the other night, he knew she didn’t really have any other friends or family in the city. But he didn’t know what time she usually got home in the evenings. He wondered if he should’ve called her first, then shook the thought out of his head as he approached the door. It was too late for that now.

Theodore saw Justin and pushed through the door to hold it open for him. “Good evening, sir. How are you doing tonight?”

Justin smiled politely if not a little taken aback, “I’m good, thank you. Just here to see a friend.” he replied.

“Very good. Which friend may that be, if you don’t mind my asking?” Theodore continued, following Justin into the lobby.

“Her name is Quinn. I dropped her off here after we went out for drinks the other night. Is there a buzzer where I can ring her?”

“Oh! Yes! Miss Quinn, a lovely young woman. Here let me call up to her flat for you.”

Theodore stepped over to a panel on the wall and pressed the button for apartment 32. He waited a moment, then pressed the button again but there was no answer.

“Well I know she hasn’t gone back out. So maybe she’s having a swim. She mentioned she likes to visit the pool daily.” he explained.

“Oh, alright. Well I can try to call her.” Justin said hesitantly.

“No need, come follow me. I’ll let you up to the pool.” Theodore said, waving Justin towards the elevator. He called it down and when it arrived, he stepped in and tapped a plastic keycard against a scanner next to the other buttons, “Check up there first.”

Justin got into the elevator, “Thank you, I appreciate your help...” he paused, not sure of the doorman’s name.

“Theodore Carmichael. And you are?”

“DS Justin Ripley. It’s nice to meet you, and thanks again for your help.” he replied as the doors began sliding shut.

“You as well, sir!” Theodore called back.

As Quinn flipped underwater to turn into her next lap, she saw someone enter the pool room. Assuming it was just one of her neighbors, she didn’t pay them much mind. She was about halfway back across the pool when she noticed the person had approached the edge of the pool. Her head tipped to the side so she could take in a breath. Using the time to take a better look, she saw that it was a man in a dark suit and peacoat. She slowed her pace as she came nearer to the opposite end of the pool. The man squatted down as she glided up to the edge, putting her hands on the pavers at his feet.

“Justin, what’re you doing here?” she asked, treading water so she could smooth her hair back and wipe the water out of her eyes.

“I’m sorry to surprise you like this. But we got our man and I was hoping I could take you out to dinner to celebrate.”

Quinn smiled up at him, “Oh that is good news. Do I say congratulations? I’m not even sure.”

“Well really Luther cracked it. Got the killer to confess.”

“Either way, that’s great.” she said. “How did you get up here, by the way? You can only access this floor with a keycard.”

“Oh the doorman, Theodore was it? He let me up. Said you’d be up here. I didn’t know you were a swimmer.”

Quinn lifted herself up out of the pool, sitting at the edge to ring out her hair, “I was never on a team or anything. It’s just good exercise.”

“Well you look good in the water from what I saw.”

“Thank you,”

Justin held out a hand to help her to her feet, “So anyway about dinner, it’s alright if you’ve got plans or didn’t want to go out. Like I said, I was just feeling good about this case and wanted to see what you were up to. I really should’ve called.” he rambled.

Quinn reached for her towel and rubbed it in the shell of her ears, “No! No, I’d love to go to dinner. It’s always better to celebrate with company.” she answered, smiling at him.

“Oh, great. Well I can come back in an hour or something so you can get ready...” he trailed off.

“That’s alright. Just come downstairs, it’ll only take me a half hour to get ready. I promise.”

Quinn already had her hand on the door to the hall and Justin had to jog a few steps to catch up with her. She led him back onto the elevator and pressed the button for the eighth floor. When the elevator stopped, she got off and turned right. She pulled a set of keys from the pocket of her robe and unlocked the door on the left at the end of the hall. Justin followed her inside, shutting and locking the door behind him. She dumped the keys in a dish on the kitchen counter.

“Here, put on some music. I think there’s beer in the fridge if you want one. Make yourself at home.” Quinn told him, opening up her laptop.

Before Justin could say anything in response, Quinn had already gone down the hall. A few moments later he heard the shower turn on. He took a cursory glance around the flat, more out of work habit than anything. It wasn’t the biggest apartment he’d seen, but it was a good size for one person who was just visiting for a month. Of course because she was renting, many of the trinkets and accessories were of the homeowner’s choice and not Quinn’s. So he couldn’t get a very good idea of who she was off the decore alone.

He went to the fridge and opened it, ducking to look inside. It was mostly empty, with only some condiments and a few leftovers containers. He didn’t see any meat, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was a vegetarian. On the bottom shelf there was a six pack of beer with two missing. He took two more out and shut the door, then rifled through the drawers until he found a bottle opener. Leaving one bottle on the counter and taking a long pull from the other, he made his way back to her computer. She had opened Spotify for him and the playlist she had last been listening to was still up on the screen.

When Quinn returned, she was dressed in a black, thigh-length dress, camel leather jacket and a large plaid scarf. As she came down the hall, she pulled her damp hair up into a messy ponytail. Justin was bent over her laptop with a beer in one hand, scrolling through her music collection. He had taken off his coat and she had to admire the way he fit in his tailored black slacks. Even though she wasn’t wearing shoes, he still seemed to notice her presence and looked up. Her eyes quickly darted away, pretending like she hadn’t just been staring at him.

“I didn’t know you liked dance music.” he said.

She raised her eyebrows, reminding herself of what was going on, “Oh? I guess it didn’t come up.”

“You have a lot of good stuff on here,” he said, picking something and letting it play in the background.

“I fancied myself a DJ in college. I even got a part time gig at a club in Providence when I was doing my masters.” she admitted.

“Really? I wouldn’t have thought.”

Quinn laughed, reaching for the beer that Justin had left on the counter for her, “Yeah it was a hobby really. I wouldn’t say I was any good. But the people at the club seemed to enjoy my sets.”

“Well that’s what’s important.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Quinn said. She leaned on her elbows on the counter, giving her calves a gentle stretch as she sipped from her beer. “I guess you listen to this kind of music then?”

Justin himself was almost caught staring at her ass and quickly had to look away, “Yeah. I listen to a lot of stuff. Never really been able to choose. But my mates and I like to go to the clubs sometimes.”

“I’m sure that must be fun. I haven’t been to a club in ages.”

“Hey, we’re actually supposed to go out to this new club that’s opening in Canary Wharf next weekend. You should join us.”

Quinn stood up, drinking more of her beer, “Oh, I wouldn’t want to butt in on your friends.” she replied politely.

Justin shook his head, “No, not at all. There’ll be so many people there, they won’t even notice. Just come, it’ll be fun.”

“Alright, alright.” she conceded, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “Send me the address and I’ll try my best to be there.”

When Justin and Quinn left the restaurant around 9pm, it was still very warm outside. They had had a couple of drinks and neither of them were ready to say goodnight quite yet. So they started walking towards the Thames and then eventually along it towards Westminster Palace. Justin couldn’t think of a time he felt so comfortable around another person. Quinn seemed to have this bizarre effect on him. Her conversation could make him laugh one minute and the next make him contemplate the world around him. She was incredibly smart and he felt evenly matched with her.

Eventually they reached the palace and stopped, standing under the glow from Big Ben. They leaned against the railing overlooking the river. Justin listened intently as Quinn explained the struggle artists faced with respect for the relationship between their time and the cost to sell artwork. He was blown away by how passionately she could speak on the topic. She seemed to have all the right words and never stumbled or faltered with her convictions. Eventually she noticed he hadn’t said anything for a minute or two and looked at him worriedly.

“I’m sorry, I’m boring you.” she said sheepishly. “I never know when to shut my mouth.”

Justin shook his head and stood up straight, “No, not at all. I was very interested in what you were talking about.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not.” he said. He moved a little closer to her, “I will admit I was getting a little distracted though.”

Quinn’s voice was barely a whisper when she responded, “Distracted by what?”

“By how much I want to kiss you right now.”

Justin watched as Quinn’s tongue snaked out to trace across her pink lips, “Then kiss me.” she told him.

He reached for her, weaving his fingers into the hair at the base of her skull and leaned in to press his lips against hers. She sighed into him, her whole body moving to be closer to him. They both grinned through the kiss and then Quinn giggled. Justin broke the kiss and looked into her eyes. He couldn’t help but chuckle with her.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. Her fingers reached to touch her lips, “I didn’t think I’d be standing here, halfway across the world, kissing a man I just met.”

“We didn’t just meet.”

“Okay, but just about.”

Justin smirked, “Well I don’t know about you and maybe I’m just going mad, but the connection I feel with you I can’t explain. When I saw you on the plane that day...it was like I knew you. Like we had been friends when we were little or something and just happened to run into each other again.” he admitted to her.

“No, I get that.” Quinn agreed. She looked away past him, “I’ve never felt like this before. Not with anyone.”

“Not with Ethan?” Justin joked.

Quinn smiled, bringing her eyes back to him, “No, definitely not with Ethan.”

“Oh, come on. I’m sure there must’ve been something there.” he teased, grinning as she rolled her eyes.

“Shut up and kiss me again.”

[teawithsgtbarnes]

Irdis Elbra read RPF about himself

[moving-accounts-uwu]

Future Stories/Fanfics!

Hiya! I’m new to the whole Tumblr Author scene so please bear with me and be patient! Below is a list of fandoms and characters I write for, as well as themes. I hope to create both original stories and fanfics soon; I also don’t take requests at the moment either! I want to pump out a few stories before I take on requests, and with the few stories I write I’ll finally make a masterlist so you all can stay updated with series or one-shots for fandoms/characters that you love <3 

Here are some fandoms I will write fanfics for:

- Marvel

- Supernatural

- The Walking Dead

- Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit

- Dead by Daylight

- Halloween

- Friday the 13th

- Predator/Yautja

- Aliens/Xenomorphs

- Days Gone

- Far Cry 5

- Knives Out

- Assassin’s Creed

- Resident Evil (2, 3 & 8)

- Call of Duty (Modern Warfare, Ghosts & WWII)

- Final Fantasy (VII, XIII, XIII-2 & XV)

- Detroit: Become Human

- Legend of Zelda

- Horizon: Zero Dawn

- Prey

- Overwatch

- The Witcher

- Until Dawn

- Evolve 

- Dragon Age

- Stranger Things

Characters I Write For:

- Marvel: Steve, Bucky, Clint, Natasha, Pietro, Wanda, Tony, Peter Parker, Thor, Loki, Ultron, Venom

- Supernatural: Sam, Dean

- The Walking Dead: Daryl, Rick, Carl, Glenn, Maggie, Negan, Jesus

- LOTR/Hobbit: Thorin, Fili, Kili, Bilbo, Dwalin, Thranduil, Azog, Elrond, Bard,  Legolas, Aragorn, Frofo, Samwise, Pippin, Merry, Boromir

- Dead by Daylight: Trapper, Wraith, Michael, Huntress, Legion, Ghost Face, Demogorgon, Oni

- Halloween: Michael Myers

- Friday the 13th: Jason Voorhees 

- Predators: Yautja, Ultimate Yautja

- Aliens: Xenomorph

- Days Gone: Deacon, Boozer

- Far Cry 5: Jacob, Joseph, John, Faith, Staci, Eli, Junior Deputy

- Knives Out: Ransom Drysdale 

- Assassin’s Creed: Altair, Malik, Ezio, Connor, Edward, Arno, Kassandra, Alexios, Evie, Jacob, Eivor

- Resident Evil (2, 3 & 8): Leon, Mr X, Jill, Carlos, Nemesis, Karl Heisenberg

- Call of Duty (MW, Ghosts & WWII): Price, MacTavish, Ghost, Roach, Nikolai, Yuri, Zussman, Logan Walker

- Final Fantasy (VII, XIII, XIII-2 & XV): Cloud, Zack, Tifa, Sephiroth, Vincent, Lightning, Hope, Snow, Fang, Vanille, Yuj, Maqui, Noel, Caius

- Detroit: Become Human: Connor, Markus, Kara, Hank, Daniel, Gavin, Luther

- Legend of Zelda: Link, Sidon, Ganon

- Horizon: Zero Dawn: Aloy, Erend, Varl, Avad, Teb

- Prey: Typhon, Phantom, Mimic, Nightmare, Poltergeist, Technopath

- Overwatch: McCree, Reaper, Soldier 76, Hanzo, Reinhardt, Tracer, Widowmaker, Sombre, Mercy, Junkrat, Genji, Baptiste, Orisa, Zarya

- Witcher: Geralt, Ciri, Jaskier

- Until Dawn: Josh, Sam, Mike, Chris, Wendigo

- Evolve: Goliath, Wraith, Kraken, Behemoth, Gorgon

- Dragon Age: Solas, Varric, Iron Bull, Cassandra, Dorian, Sera, Cullen, Hawke, Cole, Vivienne

- Stranger Things: Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove, Eddie Munson, Jonathan Byers, Jim Hopper

What I write:

- Series

- One-shots

- Fluff

- Angst

- Smut

- Romance

- Slow Burns

- Enemies to Lovers/Enemies to Friends to Lovers

- Strangers to Lovers/Strangers to Friends to Lovers

- x Reader

- Original Female & Male Characters

- Polyamorous 

- Hurt/Comfort

- Dub-con/Non-con (stories with these will have warnings!!!)

- Kinks

- Monsters

- Aliens

- Robots

- AU’s

[cutepastelstarsalior]

Things I hope for in season 2 for the umbrella academy

Five and Luther find out their twins

Flashback(s) to Vanya and Diego punk band

How did Ben die?!?!

What happened to The other kids that sir Reginald didn’t adopt?

(Spoilers) Will the second hero team make an appearance? Who are they?

Healthy family bonding + family therapy

The siblings get to meet claria

Klaus’s baby + what happen to them?

Give me soft family + hurt/comfort family dynamic 😔🥺

Five gets his puppy!!!! (Mr.Pennycrumb)

Let the comic villains be in the show!!!! I Love to see John Perseus AKA Perseus X in the show!

Let the other’s find out about Luther’s self harm scars and help him deal with it as well as his suicidal thoughts and eating problems

More claria and Patrick!!!!!!!

Things I don’t want to happen

All the siblings get force into a romance without dealing with their problems

Five getting a romantic subplot

Having five go to school or be around kids his age (look there a bunch of fanfic we’re five is sent to school but I don’t think it would be good for him since he is still a killer and has a bunch of issues he would also mostly likely stab someone )

None of the siblings getting character deth besides the fan favorites (five and Klaus)

Having the new character be superheroes

[theplatinthehat]

*nails my piece of paper to Philip Pullman’s front door*

So, I made a joke earlier today about writing up my grievances with the world-building of the His Dark Materials trilogy. I genuinely didn’t think anyone would be interested enough to ask me about this. But someone did, so I’ve abandoned the actual jobs I needed to do today and went away to cobble together this post to summarise My Thoughts (and no-one was more surprised than I to find that there were more than two).

Let me say that these are my thoughts and opinions on this particular canon of work. I don’t judge anyone who likes them (hell, I love the idea of daemons and I certainly think there are some interesting concepts explored in the series) and you are more than welcome to disagree with me on any (or all) of the points that I outline below. And you’re certainly allowed to acknowledge that there are issues with a text and still find enjoyment from them. I’m not looking to Cancel anyone – I just have questions and I’m prepared to shout them into the void.

If anyone does reblog this, I ask that you don’t tag it with #hisdarkmaterials or #hdm, because that’s unfair on the people who are using those tags to curate a positive fandom experience.

Caveat to all of this – I haven’t read the books, but I have watched the current BBC/HBO series in great depth. I’m also writing a fanfic called The Shadow Mandate set in the world of His Dark Materials and that has required me to do extensive research and engage with multiple sources about the world. It’s as a direct result of this research that much of these questions and critiques have arisen. I am planning to read the books soon though (mainly so I can roast them more thoroughly)

Don’t send this to Philip Pullman (or Philman, as I will probably refer to him from here on out). 1 – he isn’t going to care what I say (he’ll just say it’s a metaphor and to not read too much into it or something equally as infuriating) and 2 – I don’t care what he says.

Now all that boring stuff is done, let’s get to it. I’m putting this all under the cut so the poor folk who want nothing to do with this can ignore at their leisure.

This will possibly get a bit tongue in cheek in places – just a warning

One Church to Rule Them All, One Faith to Bind Them

So, one of my main questions about the world of His Dark Materials is the Magisterium and the Holy Church. And that question is “How?”

Overlooking the fact that this was probably a conscious decision by Philman to Make A Point, I still have questions behind this behemoth of an institution. Based on my research, I’m of the understanding that Lyra’s world parted from our own when John Calvin became the Pope, and transferred the seat of Papal power to Geneva. After Calvin’s death, the Magisterium was formed and they consolidated power from there.

In my mind, this just doesn’t work. Because it makes it sound like Calvin was the only person standing between the Catholic Church and the Protestant Reformation. Whilst he had a big role in the Reformation, he just wasn’t the only person working for reforms (I mean – Luther? Hello? He had 95 problems, and Indulgences were all of them). You could probably argue with me on this, as he was a significant figurehead of the Reformation, but there were so many people working for change in Europe at the time that I would have thought that someone else would have taken that place (you can read more here).

The lack of denominations also doesn’t really sit with me because if there’s one thing I know about Christians, it’s that we love to argue over teeny-tiny details and build whole new ways of worshipping around them. The fact that the Magisterium doesn’t just tear itself apart is, to be honest, quite surprising. And, you know, the Eastern Orthodox tradition was already a thing at the time… (here’s a brief overview of the East-West Schism of 1054)

I’d also like to point out that Papal power was dominant in Western civilization. That leaves a lot of the world for the Magisterium to then suddenly gain power of. Or did Philman conveniently forget that Judaism (although the Jewish people had suffered significant persecution in Europe by this time), Islam, Hinduism and Buddhism (and many others) were all already very well-established religions in other parts of the world that I doubt would have taken too kindly to the Magisterium’s political advances. This idea of a religion having such a heavy-handed control over the whole world just seems a bit too far-fetched for me to believe.

However, I have to acknowledge that I say this as a white, Western Christian – perhaps people genuinely feel that is the case.

I do know that the witches are mentioned at having their own religion, but I can’t really find any information about it, so I can’t really compare them. It could well be that other religions and faith practices are mentioned in the books themselves, but I’m struggling to find them (do the shamans count? I’m not sure). Perhaps this is just me, but one religion consuming the whole world (or, at least, the vast majority of it) doesn’t strike me as particularly plausible.

 Beast from the East

This is probably my most serious critique of the series, and one that’s actually been the most nightmarish for me to deal with in my own expanded world-building of Lyra’s world for The Shadow Mandate. This is an issue that has been discussed at length Marek Oziewicz in the paper ‘Representations of Eastern Europe in Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials, Jonathan Stroud’s The Bartimaeus Trilogy, and J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter Series’ – which I highly recommend you read!

(And it dunks on Ms R*wling too – what a treat!).

I’ll do a little summary for those of you who haven’t got the time to read a whole paper:

The His Dark Materials trilogy is told from a very British point of view (understandable, the author is a white British man)

Britain is a positive and exciting place, where all the characters are individuals with the capacity for good or evil

The general geographical sense of the world-building is that the further East you go (in Europe) that the less ties the people have to the Holy Church and the more barbaric they are – see the Tartars and their ‘Breathless One’ practices

The Eastern European races are frequently described with qualities such as “cruelty, pitilessness, barbarism, fierceness, physical and emotional instability” (Oziewicz, p. 8)

A lot of nationalist stereotypes surround the peoples of these races/countries

I mean, the treatment of the Tartars (which is a living, breathing ethnolinguistic group) as a whole is pretty disturbing. They’re described to be like a ‘warmongering race of xenophobic genocidal humans who want to conquer the whole of the Earth’ (Quote) - compare that to the complexity of the characters from the West. Oziewicz notes that the Tartars are somewhat akin to the Imperial Guard of Star Wars, as their helmets have ‘no eyes – or at least you couldn’t see any eyes behind the snow slits’ (Northern Lights, p. 289). As far as I can tell, they’re pretty much just tarred with one brush – made particularly plain by the fact that all Tartars seem to have identical wolf/husky daemons – unless that was a requirement when the Magisterium put the job posting on Indeed.

So, a whole nation of people has been reduced to a single archetype – one that plays on existing prejudices in British culture. That just feels like extremely lazy world-building to me – I don’t know a single country or ethnic population that could accurately be described as one archetype.

I also feel that a lot of other countries in the world are written off with sweeping generalisations – or just kinda lumped together? So, a lot of my research has involved me looking at the canonical list of Globetrotter Maps, and a whole bunch of countries tend to get lumped together – particularly, I’ve noticed, the South American countries. It does this really intriguing and complex world a major disservice. As I said, this is something that I’ve had to grapple with for my own work – and I hope that I’ve done enough work so as to begin to dissemble what Philman started.

 A new and exciting way to get around the ‘G’ slur

For those of you who are unaware (although, you’re on Tumblr – how could you possibly not be aware?) the G-slur is considered to be a pejorative description of the Romani ethnic group, associated with idleness and itinerancy. It comes from the mistaken European belief that the Romani people came from Egypt (they aren’t). You can read more about that here and here.

Philman decided to name his ethnic group known for travelling and trading as they go ‘Gyptians’. I won’t insult your intelligence by explaining any further.

Should I let this slide with the explanation that the term is so pervasive in Britain that it’s actually a legal term? Perhaps, but I’m not going to.

 Kill Bill God

My only issue with this is that if Philman wants to kill God, he should kill… God. Not some angel with a superiority complex. But seeing how badly some people took it, I can understand why he didn’t. I still think he’s a coward.

 Sex, Dust and Dragons

I have a whole other bone to pick with Philman about his obsession with sex in children’s literature, but that’s not what you’re here to talk about. No, you came to hear about His Dark Materials.

It’s established in the world that Dust doesn’t settle on children because they don’t have experience – they are too innocent. Based on the research I’ve done, and the language used in both the film and the mini-series is this maturation from childhood to adulthood is though protosexual experiences e.g. kissing. And this is what Mary Malone’s role as ‘the serpent’ is – she’s the one that make Lyra think about her sexuality for the first time:

As Mary said that, Lyra felt something strange happen to her body. She found a stirring at the roots of her hair: she found herself breathing faster. She had never been on a roller-coaster, or anything like one, but if she had, she would have recognised the sensations in her breast: they were exciting and frightening at the same time, and she had not the slightest idea why. The sensation continued, and deepened, and changed, as more parts of her body found themselves affected too. She felt as if she had been handed the key to a great house she hadn't known was there, a house that was somehow inside her, and as she turned the key, deep in the darkness of the building she felt other doors opening too, and lights coming on. She sat trembling, hugging her knees, hardly daring to breathe, as Mary went on...

Marzipan, The Amber Spyglass

(That’s such a long quote)

It’s then made explicitly clear that it’s the intimacy of Lyra and Will’s relationship, and the touching of one another’s daemons, that causes Pan and Kirjava to settle in their true forms.

Andrew Lloyd Webber was right – love really does change everything.

Here’s where things get a little bit petty.

So, if Dust begins to settle on children once they’ve had their first ‘sexual awakening’ – what about those people who don’t ever experience that? Because, believe it or not, asexual people have existed for a very long time. If they don’t experience this, then would their daemons settle? What are the implications of this? Are asexual people remaining in the ‘childlike innocence of the Garden of Eden’? (Quote)

Asexual fans of His Dark Materials, I pass this question to you – do you lack a soul because you’ve never experienced sexual desire? Is sex truly instrumental on the road to maturation? I’d love to hear your thoughts, and what you’d do if your daemon never settled. Would you let them shift into a dragon? I know I would if I were in that position.

This issue, to me, is massively indicative of the prevalent attitudes towards the asexual community. There is a tendency for media products to portray a-spec people as immature because they don’t experience sexual attraction – which is just not true. The ace community has said many times that they feel that this attitude infantilizes their orientation, and it’s a view that needs to be challenged. Check out this source for more information on the microagressions faced by this community – section six is particularly relevant. Asexuals are mature – despite this lack of ‘experience’ that Philman seems to think all people need to have in order to become free-thinkers. This just isn’t true. I don’t understand why society seems to believe this theory, but with its prevalence in media it’s not too difficult to see why this view pervades.

Anyway, the only reason I’m so petty about this particular aspect is that I’m so bored of reading stories where sex and romance are the most important thing. I think heresy is a much more interesting sin than sex, so that’s what The Shadow Mandate will be about once I’ve finished it.

I also have some more minor world-building issues both in HDM and the later Book of the Dust trilogy including, but not limited to:

Why is it New Denmark? The Dutch were quite famous for reaching America – New Amsterdam being the original name for New York. Admittedly I’m only cross about this because I got mixed up in my own world-building.

There’s even more ‘othering’ of non-British races – particularly the Skraelings who are analogous to the Inuit people (but possibly a term for all Native-American peoples) who carry out ‘barbaric’ practices such as trepanning

Witches can’t forgive men that turn them down. Well I don’t have much of a problem with this as such, but it just makes me think of that quote about fairies from Peter Pan – “Fairies have to be one thing or the other, because being so small they unfortunately have room for one feeling only at a time.”

The treatment of Pantalaimon by Lyra in subsequent adventures

Malcolm Polstead needs to leave Lyra tf alone

 I appreciate that this is a very long and whingy list about things that I don’t like, so congrats on making it this far! I’d love to give you something – perhaps your time back – but alas, my powers only extend so far. I appreciate that the His Dark Materials books are well-loved and that most people would probably disagree with what I’ve said – I just have lots of questions and Philman doesn’t have as many answers as I would like. But then again, should I really read this much into the work of a writer who seems willing and capable to ignore the personality of their protagonist for a whole book? I don’t know. But I do know, that axolotl daemons would require a lot of work.

(I have beef with Philman – thank you for humouring me)

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